The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-04-09 00:00:00

Wittraturt. POETRY. THE PRIMROSE AND FORGET-ME-NOT. BY MISS CHRISTIANA WELLER. Where sun-beams crept and gaily danced, In sp rtive light, on al ar und ; Where trembling moon -beams often glanced Along the fairy-ha low'd roun.!. A primros‘ , blos om'd to the day. Of sweetest perfume. palest dye : The infant flower 'mid green le ,ves lay, And z,phyrs san its lullaby. And time pass'd on, and gently dealt With this fair token of the spring ; The chilling blast it scarcely felt,— 'Twas fann'd as by a seraph's wing But ,- 'er it Pity shower'd her dew, In falling dr ps of crystal lie•ht : For well the tearful mourner knew That fleeting—frail, was its delight. Each morning-ray dispelled the gloom That hung upon the fair one's cheek ; The golden beam restored its bloom, And painted it with beauty meek. And noontide's fervour harm'd it not; A canopy of verdant shade Threw freshest charms around the spot : Hope wAsper'd that it neer should lade, Another flow'rct blossom'd nigh, And, mingling fondly, thus they grew; For friendship lent her sympathy, And sweet companionship they knew. They lived, they loved in after days, As, one by one, each joy decay'd When summer's sun withdrew its rays, And winds the darkening skies obey'd. When each fond dream that youth had shown And pictured, fair as earth could know, In one sad hour had vanish'd—flown, And desolation left below. The primrose heard the night winds sigh, And read its doom amid the storm ; Unbroken only was the tie That friendship threw around its form And, whispering sweetly from its bower, Ere yet had closed its cheerless lot, It named its vntle sister flower. And, dying, said—" Forget-me-not !" " SITTING ON A RAIL." THE LL'S TUNNEL. Hark t the shrill whistle runs up the L— tunnel—the rope is adjusted—the cap fits roundly upon your head, in stead of your hat—the gleaming red oil light gives its sickly hue to the book in your hand or the face of your vis-a-vis companion. Slow—slowly —less slowly the car rir.ges move on till they break at last into a run, with a ratt:e, and you are rattled through the dark future, and are only glad that you have already escaped the murky gloom of the sabled past, whilst each successive moment becomes in its turn one of present conflict with the powers of darkness, until the blue light of day gradually expands before you at the tunnel's mouth, with phantasmagoric effect and welcome ! Another scream of the whistle, which like some fabled bird of darkness, throws all its lungs into the loudest embodiment of a hideous sound, distressfully shrill, and seems to rejoice in thus fitfully celebrating the praises of its birth-place. Spirits are generally seen ; thou, tunnel-bird ! art only heard, and never seen ; and thy wings must have the stilly flight of thy living and vi sible prototype, the hooting and noiseless owl, or in the gliding whirl of the many wheels, as they skim over the expectant rail, we should sometimes hear them flap and flatter. Thou art truly the creation of the engineer! a Prometheus offspring of his steam and smoke—a being embodied in sound only—invisible—untangible, whilst thy wiry claws scratch at our ear-drums till they are ready to bleed again under the vexatious infliction : yet we know not thy ugly form—too ugly to be revealed perhaps— though we can note down with the accuracy of astonish ment the fiery octaves and the wild wolf-note' of thy murderous din ! A music so severe and spiteful, though blunted in the enshrining column of steam, must owe its origin, and that in the nineteenth century, to the tunnel of L—, out of whose sombre bowels, oh, Earth! that such a fossil echo should ever have been dug! Whirl—whirled upon a rail, through the green fields— below, above—like the Shaksperia❑ witch— " Thorough water, Thorough fire, Thorough brake, Thorough brier"— bow we do go along, "sitting on a rail"—quaking over moss and swinging down " inclines ;" and after a short look out beneath, over canals and race-courses out-sped every Lour by the exploits of subjugated steam, the giant town of M— spreads out its swarthy arms to welcome us to its heaving bosom, whence are belching daily forth clouds of smoke and vapour of smoke—contracted for by the whole island of Great Britain, as to be furnished at the rate of a cubic mile per second, of the best black Egyptian —warranted, as per sample, to contain a variable supply of smuts of the true jetty hue. Well, but leave M—to itself, for gold dust and cotton refinements ; look what airy picture sits like a marine refraction, on the terminus of a bridge which spans the Stygian river, whose dusky red sides must have been bathed in the thin red tide of the manufactured and manufacturing victims. Ah! this L— terminus is a gem of a place, set picto rially in the jetty frame of mill-work—a pleming fresco on an ancient wall—a fair relief in cast-iron—a picture in iron and glass, standing out from the hieroglyphic spinning jennies of countless numbers around, plied by incessant bands, and as under Egyptian rigour doing a service "without straw." Here the rail has a rope for a fringe or tassel to pull up by ; but then there is no tunnel wherein to take leave of your senses " cheminfaisant." There is some thing pictorial, too, and enticing in the construction and nomenclature of some of their carriages : a fine "Divan" for those who divert in smoke; a " Gondola" for pic-nic parties and associated groups; and finally, a " Tourist" for the summer season, when pedestrians and butterflies are out, the former not liking to he inclosed and entombed in a first or second-class carriage, may in this carriage gaze around and above to the heart's content, for they are only " glazed in" in these directions, though their correspond ence below is intercepted by a platform of wood, which is far more satisfactory than if they were invited to a glass seat and foot-stool likewise, as in a diving-bell, especially since they are about to dive into numerous cuttings and tunnels where from. any accidental fidgittiness on their seat, it would be a very hard and irrecoverable penalty to be left behind, the victims of a glass seat and cushion. First we come to " blue pits," which are anything but blue, though dyers might wish they were so; in fact, we don't understand the name, but suppose it an accidental misnomer in the first instance, and now kept up because it is not so. The sky is not blue ; how then could the wa ter be ? and we defy all the powers of Prussian blue to make it so, A little further on we did see some "red" cloth hanging out to dry, and it was the most pictorial thing in the district ; but we are ready to go before a ma gistrate and aver, that blue was a scarce commodity, ex cept inside our carriage, and that of a flashing order in the " bonnie blue e'en" of the little school-girl in the rail arm chair opposite to us, whose merry pranks and laughter often quickened our own dull circulation. There were sheep, too, further on, but they should have been white, and yet they were not " black sheep," that Orthodox variety, we mean, of " ovis," but they were bor. &ring on black—the best iron-grey we ever saw, and as such we should have set them down in our " notes of rails," but the lambs at their sides frisked about in such Italie little jackets as at the same time to puzzle and please ourselves, and to discredit their dams somehow or other ! What means " Shut off your steam," unless it signifies " bottle up your courage" paraphrastically ; it will be very likely wanted anyhow; for you are approaching the L. tunnel, and there is no escape, so it's no use wishing it. Bottle up your courage, then, and " keep your powder dry." We were sitting reading our newspaper, when all at onceascream from our invisible courier bird alarmed our weak nerves and presaged—what! darkness—and coldness, and horrors! The lettered page remained in our rivetted lands a blank page—the sides of our carriage were obli terated in our vision, and the region beyond the window shot past into darkness, and the stone sleepers jarred and rattled, and the disembowelled tones rung from the vaulted tunnel's roof, and pressed down ruth lessly on our ear, even through the roof of our carriages, until those two organs of sense, eye and ear, gave up in despair their straining contest with din and darkness, and we sat captive and mute, astonished and dumbfounded— rattle and jar from the awakened sleepers —roar of the en gine condensed in the arched domain—chill from the im isoned damp air trickling from the weeping sides—casual fits of shriek from the unseen friend—palpable darkness to the hand outstretched from the windows—silence within, not a foot or hand stirring from where each traveller last Isad them—scarcely a breath drawn. and when taken drawn inaudibly for certain—the heart recoiled back upon itself, the bottled-up courage flagged and fainted—mo ments extended their ordinary brief length into prolix mi nutes, and still on we went, and rattled and whizzed with fearful rapidity, till thought lost its elasticity of wonder gent, and sullenly retired within its cell, to try and sleep Vat the rest of this plunge into darkness, but in vain. Lo ! the angry/it/re of a burning torch upheld by one solitary denizen of this awful gutting, stretched out at arm's length, and waved to and fro, seemed like a welcome to our arri val at the dark gates themselves which usher into Ache_ rontic regions ! Not a question but now we were ushering into the postern-gate of Pluto's stale-prison and citadel ; seen—the next moment probably—earth and its busy scenes would have been left behind for ever, and the irre vocable plunge made into the depths of the lake from whence no mortal had ever been suffered to upspring back again to earth. Here joys sublunary and griefs terrestrial were to be drowned alike in the molten elements below, where even oblivion of the past was to be denied—the last aolacedeniedtothewicked—and every past was tobe rivetted and chained in the brazen mirror of immortality Father Time seemed to be niggardly counting out his last sands, whilst we recounted them over too, lest he should serve us eut with short allowance of our seconds. Boz would have "declined" our position with "ghostly" s kill i nto past, present, and future tenses ! We begun roundly with the perfect past — Acoavi ;" we tried the p resen t, " Amo," but it faltered on our tongue • and the f u t ure " Amabo," stuck in our throat as a fiction of diseased imagination ; and the echoing sounds of " Peccavi," s' Miserere mei," seemed to fit alone the regi on we aP "smooched so moodily. " Half of our heavy task was done," however, and that " by the light of the torch so fitfully burning." Onwards still rolled our rapid wheels, and other pangs of suspense screwed up our very vitals into nothing; and when minutes of Agopy has drawn out their laggard length alone, and the ninpl had made it_ self up for the worst, and had given up all idea of doing its lest, even if it were to realise a calamity—a flare of ligi t laughed upon our dark path, and again the dark curtain fell, ju-t as in the time-annihilating power of thought, " hope" was beginning to tell "a fl rttr ring tale" ! Another round swell of soft light beamed with a be nigh witchery on our benighted eves, and hope &owed again, and sent a warmer pulsation from our heart,. Again a dark period, and then—the angel of light waved its wings at the tunnel's mouth, and %visaed us joy, and grric:lnily unfolded its celestial robe around itselt and ourself, end the breath of Heaven again played its refreshing and thrice-welcome truancy on our cheek. Our heart grew reassurred—our fears, retreating, lost their colossal magnitude, and receded into midges and imps of darkness; and our organ of veneration grew ex cited to bursting, on once more beholding the April sun shine around us; and we kissed our hand to that sun, and would have done so to the moon as well, had there been a moon visible at the same time, so that in intention of such idolatry, performed actually, i. e. constructively, as Lord Abinger lays down, we have incurred by this time the cen sure of J o b fo r heathenish practices, and yet who could resist the passage of so natural a theology ? H eaven forgive us, in pity ! Our reluctance to leave this world was a proper feeling, especially when we considered ourselves booked for another and not altogether the most agreeable change from this. The Sun was a type of Heaver, and as Heaven's ambassador we doubted not the credentials of light and love, so we made our salaam to the viceroy, in token of our loyalty to the viceroy's king ! Was there anything wrong in this? If there was, gentle reader, we are glad to find ourselves in the company of poets of all nations and Persian magi. But it is no use reasoning on the matter; it was a matter of pure feeling, and—so--we did it in our innocence. On regaining the light, we turned to one of our near seated travelling companions ; expressing our own horror at the nature of our route, we enquired if she had been alarmed, expecting that what had given us alarm would in all probability have disturbed the equilibrium of a wo man's mind. She calmly replied, that she had not felt terrified. We then ventured to ask, if she had been this way before. Her reply was in the negative, and we felt ashamed of our lesser courage. Waiting a while, think ing of our own humbler standing, in being frightened when a woman could be courageous —we took the liberty of enquiring if she enjoyed vision in common with my self. Judge of our surprise and relief; our self-respect rose up again, for she told us—she was blind This L. tunnel is a mortal queer place, and a queer part of the story is that, as Miss Edgeworth remarks, asyou enter Ireland, in sailing to Dublin, between two bulls and a blunder, so you enter this tunnel in the teeth of contradiction and irony, and you leave it in a witticism. Thus the village at the mouth is called Litt/eborough, which is a lie, for we think nearly two miles of tunnelling is a great burrow, and the village at the other side is called Tod-morden, which means, it its radicle be German, Death-Murder. But we have done with the tunnel, and its dangers are iescaped. We have been on board ship in a gale, when " sails never bent before were torn to rags," but this tun nel bangs a storm hollow. We don't intend to go down it again without, Esop-like, taking a lantern in our hand, if they wont give us the consolation of one in the roof. On returning on this route the trains have two engines, one to push up the inclines, as if the carriages themselves, as well as passengers, felt some degree of reluctrnce to proceed up hill or down hill to such a " horrid bore"! Down these inclines we now gladly rattled, " shutting off your steam" being the war-hawk placard on the road-side for the engineer. Then the country acquired a romantic and bold character, and the hills and vvolds of Yorkshire, on to Normanton, would repay any tourist ; but he must not forget to " bottle up his courage," whenever " Shut off your steam" meets his eye. After all, the incline on the Gloucester and Birmingham line is the greatest of any in England, we believe. 'L'o bestride a town or city or river or valley, or turnpike, is as easy to those railroads as to creep like a mole under a hill, or disembowel a mountain ! Whilst pausing at Normanton, a bumble bee whizzed past our ear, a train arrived in the central line, with its whiz of a whistle lastin g for a second or two. We endea voured to discriminate between the sound of the bee al our ear and the more distant whistle of the screamer. We were not a little surprised to find how very difficult it was to detect one sound from another, as, a priori, one would have thought would have been quite easy to do. By the duration of the sound only could we tell. The whistle came suddenly, so did the sweeping flight of the insect ; but the noise ceased too smartly, and this cleared up the doubtful sound, for the hum of the bee we reckoned should have died faintly away as the insect got more and more remote from the ear. It was a trifle, but it was a fact, presenting itself to us ; and it was not a trifle, inas much as it led to a train of reflection upon the unjustify. able and unphilosophical scepticism about facts in nature, which we doubt because we have never studied them analogically, and because the guage we test them by is narrower than the field of the subject to be tested. NOTICES. The Manchester Keepsake. Edited by William Gaspey. Manchester : B. Wheeler. Pp. 78. More poetry from Manchester ! Why, the place will be as famous for its rhyme-spinners as its cotton-spinners —its weavers of delicate po”tical fabrics as its manufac turers of silks and muslins! Well, the more the merrier. It is pleasant to find that literature goes hand in hand with commerce. Although Byron says, " It fills the pocket, though it clogs the brain," the brains of most commercial men are-clear enough. The present brochure (if such it may he termed) cannot fail to be well received by the lovers of poetry, not only for its very varied contents, but for its neat and pleasing appearance. The getting-up is extremely good, and the typography undeniably excellent. Amongst the contri butors we notice that our fair and accomplished towns woman, Miss Christiana Weller, is numbered ; a very fanciful and graceful poem from her pen appearing at page 72. The other contributors are Mr. Wm. Gaspey, the editor, (son of the talented author of " Lollard's Life of Lord Cobham," and other sterling works,) the Rev.J. Davies, A.M., T. J. Ouseley, J. B. Rogerson, Ner Gar diner, Dr. Bowring, Lord John Minners, J. E. Carpen ter, Rev. G. Gilfillan, F. Kempster, Mrs. Craven Green, Mrs. Caulton, Mrs. Thomas, &c. " The Manchester Keepsake" is a very creditable production, and the price places it in the power of every one wishful of making a gentle friend or dear relative a pretty and amusing pre sent, to do so at small cost. We annex the following from its pages : THE CHRISTIAN MISSION. BY MAURICE HARCOURT. Oh, God ! the cloud of ignorance Hangs over Pagan lands; — Send forth thy messengers of truth To those benighted strands. Cammand the dawn of Gospel-light Its cheering rays to shed O'er hearts, untouched by Christian grace, To Christian virtues dead. Oh ! may the heralds of thy Word Its saving power proclaim, Inspiring Afric's dusky suns To praise Messiah's name : And, as within the cottage-homes O'er-arched by milder skies, Beneath the Indian's wigwam rude, May strains of worship rise. Grant that the ice-fields of the north, The prairies of the west. The trackless deserts of the east, May have their altars dressed, — In p ace of flowers, (that, bright to-day, To-morrow lose their bloom,—) With hearts that, through the Cross, have won Deliverance from the tomb. Lord ! bless the ministry of those Who seek, in every clime, For heirs unto Eternity, Amid the sons of Time; And let Salvation's standar ' be On heathen shores unfurl'd, Until the Sun of Righteousness Shine over all the world ! Blackwood's Magazine. The number for the present month is, in our opinion, one of the best that has appeared for a long time, and this is saying much for a periodical which is admitted on all hands to be invariably clever. " The Pirates of Segna," a tale of the Adriatic, founded on historical facts, but wrought up with romantic energy of imagination and great strength and individuality in the portraiture of cha racter is here concluded. We should not be surprised to see it ere long dramatized, as it is full of striking incident, and would furnish ample scope for scenic effect. An ar ticle on the slave trade—a review of " Fifty Days on board a slave vessel, in 1843," by the Rev. P. G. Hill, Chap lain to H.M.S. Cleopatra, will be read w th interest, not unwingled wi' h deep regret and reprehension of the un accountable mismanagement of some of our own officers of the navy, in charge of a slave ship captured off the coast of Madagascar, about twelve months ago, by which 54 of the poor slaves were .smothered in the bold in one night, and so many afterwards died from consequent suffering and disease that nearly half of the whole' living cargo (450 in all) perished before they could be landed at the Cape of Good Hope ! The reviewer properly remarks, that if this statement and its consequences be true, the conduct of the persons by whom it was brought about (without any apparent necessity) ought not to be passed over without inquiry. A paper, entitled the " Moslem Histories of Spain," is full of interesting historical facts— a succinct and authentic history in fine of the reign of the Arabs of Cordova, from the period of their conquest of that country, and the consolidation of their power under that magnificent and extraordinary prince Abdurrahman, to the expulsion, A.D., 1036, of the last member of that illustrious dynasty, which had ruled over Andulus (Spain) and a great portion of Africa, for 284 years. The accounts given by the Moslem compiler of these histories, Ahmed Al Makkari, of the splendour of the court and palaces of Abdurrahman, his encouragement of literature, education, and the fine arts. and his benignant policy, both as a warrior and a legislator, are extremely curious. "Two Nights in Southern Mexico," details the perils endured, in flood and field, by two Americans and their compa nions, on a journey through a most extraordinary portion of that remarkable country. The descriptions of some of the sublime and beautiful scenery of the splendid valley of Oaxaca—nearly 300 leagues in I length —and of the dread . ful storm of thunder and rain by which the party were overtaken and nearly engulphed, appear to border on the romantic, but, we believe, are nevertheless not exaggera ted pictures of the diversified localities and climate of that extraordinary portion of the American continent. The next paper, on " The British Fleet," besides a variety of historical reminiscences of the progress and advancement of navigation, through the science, discoveries, and perse verance of Britons, embodies a memoir of the life and character of " the gallant Jervis," including accounts of his principal victories. " Marston, or the Memoirs of a Statesman," is continued, and increases in interest — the hero being left in perilous proximity to the guillotine, from which heaven knows how he is to escape. "The Two P ti ons" is a stay of the lighter and more amusing de cription, replete with character and quaintness. The number concludes with an article on " Ireland" and the late state trials, evidently from the pen of me who is ma=ter of his subject. The stanzas ervitled " The Child's Waring" are pathetic and beautitul. A few extracts from this number will be found in our present sheet. THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. I look upon death to be as necessary to our constitutions as sleep. We shall rise refreshed in the morning.—Dr. Franklin. CAUSE OF A SUSPICIOUS DISPOSITION.—One thing you will learn fast enough in the world, for it is potent in such teaching—that is, to be suspicious. Oh ! cast from you for ever the hateful lesson. Men do not think how much of their innocency they are laying down, when they assume a clothing whose texture is guile. Beware of this mock protection ; for you can hardly use it without prac tising deceit. Ido not ask you to trust always ' • but I would have you think well o f men unt il you find them otherwise. When you are once deceived, either by an acted or a spoken falsehood, trust that person no more. I had it once laid down to me as an axiom, by a very dear friend, (and I am so satisfied of the precept's truth as to make it a rule of my life) that, persons rarely suspect others except of things which they are capable of doing themselves. Yes ; these shadows of doubting are generally flung from some bad realities within. You are looking at your own image when you see so much vileness in your neighbour's face. How much better might not we our selves become, if we used more largely to others that blessed charity which thinketh no evil !—Dublin Univer bill/ Magazine. THE SLAVE TRADE.—We fully believe that, if we were to look for the deepest misery that was ever inflicted in this world, and the greatest mass of it, we should find it in the slave trade. It is the misery, not as in civilized life, of scattered individuals, but of multitudes, and a misery comprehending every other; sudden separation from every tie of the human heart, parent, child, spouse, and country; the misery of bodily affliction, disease, fa mine, storms, shipwreck, and ultimately slavery, with all its wretchedness 6f toil and tyranny for life. We cer tainly do not think it our duty to go to war for the object of teaching humanity to other nations. We must not at tempt to heal the calamity of the African by the greatest of all calamities and crimes—an unnecessary war. But England has only to persevere sincerely and steadily, however calmly, and she will, by the blessing of that su preme disposer of the ways of men, who desires the hap piness of all his creatures, succeed in the extinction of a traffic which has brought a curse, and brings it at this hour, and will bring it deeper still, upon every nation which insults the laws of humanity and the dictates of religion, by dealing in the flesh and blood of man.—Black wood's Magazine. THE PACKED JURY COMPLAINT.—Just think, for a moment, of any house-breaker, on being called on to take his trial, demanding as a right that six at least, (one would suffice)—six of the jury should have been practised burg lars—men who did not regard smashing a street door and shattering a shutter as any great invasion of private pro perty, nor privacy—and who had certain free-and-easy notions of their own about the distribution of this world's wealth. Imagine the accused gravely demanding of the crown prosecutor a jury of his peers in iniquity, his co mates in rascality—claiming as his birthright, that six of the twelve in the box should, while trying his case, be de ciding on their own; that their own fortune should be at issue, and the legal formula of "like case, like rule," be able to transfer them from the jury-box to the goal. One is insensibly led away to speculate on the strange scenes such a line of practice would originate ; how miserable would be all the bottled-up smartness of the cross-exa mining counsel, before the real knowledge of such a jury as we should then see—how common-place all his home questions, and how blunt his fiercest thrusts at the wit ness, compared with some pertinent demand of the " art ful dodger" who acted as foreman. Daniel is not content with Ireland for the Irish, he had twelve natives of the " gem of the sea," and yet they did not suffice him—his exclusiveness goes further; they must be " Irish, and something more.' Give me a few of the right sort, quoth he, shilling-a-week men, wardens, or pacificators, or whatever other humbug designation they rejoice in—fel lows that feel that the dock and the jury -box are all one. Don't pack a jury, crieth the pickpocket, let me see plenty of light-fingered gentry to try me. No infringement of the liberty of the subject, exclaims the highwayman— where are the robbers on the panel? If Mr. O'Connell has not had a fair trial, there have been scandalous doings at the Old Bailey—that's all ; and I hope something will be done for the memory of Jack Sheppard, for, assuredly, he was a murdered man.—Dublin University Magazine. SCIENCE OF NAVIGATION.-It is a remarkable instance of the slowness with which science advances, that almost the whole scientific portion of seamanship has grown up since the middle of the seventeenth century, though America bad been reached in 1492, and India in 1196; and thus the world had been nearly rounded before what would now be regarded as the ordinary knowledge of a navigator had been acquired. England has the honour of making the first advances. It was an Englishman, Norwood, who made the first measurement of a degree between London and York, and fixed it at 122,399 Eng lish yards. The attention of the world thus once awa kened, Huygens and Cassini applied themselves to ascer tain the figure of the earth. The first experiments of the French sarans were in contradiction to Newton's theory of the flattening of the poles ; but the controversy was the means of exciting new interest. The eyes of the scientific world were turned more intently on the subject. New experiments were made, which corrected the old ; and finally, on the measurement of the arc in Peru, and in the north; truth and Newton triumphed, and the equa tor diameter was found to exceed the polar by a two hun dred and fourth part of the whole. This was perhaps the' finest problem ever solved by science ; the most perplex ing in its early state—exhibiting for a while the strongest contradiction of experiment and theory, occupying in a greater degree the attention of philosophers than any be fore. or since, and finally established with a certainty which every subsequent observation has only tended to confirm. And this triumph belonged to an Englishman. The investigation by measurements has since been largely adopted. in 1787, joint commissions were issued by England and France to connect the Greenwich and Pari sian observations. Arcs of the meridian have since been measured across the whole breadth of France and Spain, and also near the Arctic circle, and in the Indian penin sula. In navigation, the grand point for the sailor is to as certain his latitude and longitude; in other words, to know where he is. The discovery of the latitude is easily effected by the quadrant, but the longitude is the diffi culty. Any means which ascertained the hour at Green wich, at the instant of making a celestial observation in any other part, would answer the difficulty; for the dif ference in quarters of an hour would give the difference Of the degrees. But clocks could not be used on ship board, and the best watches failed to keep the time. In the reign of Anne, parliament offered a reward of £5.000, perhaps not far from the value of twice the sum ia the pretitat day, for a watch within a certain degree of accu racy. Harrison, a watchmaker, sent in a watch which came within the limits, losing but two months in a voy age to the West Indies; yet even this was an error of thirty miles. But, though chronometers have since been considerably improved, there are difficulties in their pre servation in good order which have made it expedient to apply to other means; and the lunar tables of Mayer of Gottingen, formed in 1775, and subsequently improved by Dr. Maskelyne and others, have brought the error within seven miles and a half. Improvements of a very important order have also taken place in the mariner's compass; the variation of the needle has been reduced to rules, and some anomalies arising from the metallic at traction of the ship itself, have been corrected by Profes sor Barlow's experiments. The use of the marine ba rometer and thermometer have also largely assisted to give notice of tempests; and some ingenious theories have been lately formed, which, promising to give a know ledge of the origin and nature of tempest-, are obviously . not unlikely to assist the navigator in stemming their vio lence, or escaping them altogether.—" The British Fleet," in Blackwood. EFFECT OF A CONCILIATORY POLICY.—The other road is indeed open to you, and we fear you show too many leanings towards it, that admirable legacy the whigs be queathed you—Conciliation. Popery may be pampered ; treason,caressed; the loyalty of those who it is supposed must be true under every defeat and under every discou ragement may be insulted ; the repealers may receive that mild correction which evinces love and affection rather than anger, and a few years more of distuibance purchased without the final result being attained. For this course, apparently, you are prepared. Like Eugene Aram you are " equal to either fortune." You have so trimmed your sails that you can stand out to sea, or sun for shore, as you deem fit. Already your declarations in parlia ment give a foretaste of your intentions. With what shrinking delicacy you receded from any defence of Pro testantism on the ground of its truth ; with what sensitive tendeeness you avoided attributing any corruption to Romanism, or idolatry to popery. How admirably just— what Irish justice !--your letter to Lord de Gray regard ing Mr. Howley's appointment, that of two men equally qualified the Roman catholic should be preforred, because of the previous disabilities under which he rose to the equality. And so, because one man has embraced christi anity according to the state religion, and another in oppo sition to its avowed preference, this latter is more to be trusted, sooner employed, and higher honoured for his opposition sake—the question of eternal truth or false hood, either way, being a matter quite beside the point, and one which, not to ruffle certain susceptibilities, muss not be agitated at all. You may follow this path—is is smooth worn and easy—Lord Normanby's footsteps are still there to guide you ; but we would ask you, is at as safe for you as for him; can you do with impunity the acts he performed with such success? No: very differ ent are the hopes men conceive of your government. They know you to be independent of that faction by whose aid your rivals held places; they hope, as you have the power, you may have the will to be honest. They regard you as the depository of that trust which secures to them the advantages of their free constitution, and the enjoy ment of that religious truth which you have sworn to up hold. Take care that you betray not these expectations; take care, lest in your efforts to conciliate the traitor you discourage the true man; above all things, take care lest you suffer this miserable land to linger on under the slow and consuming fever of decay. If concessions are to be made, make them ; if the axe is to be laid to the root of the tree, do not begin by lopping off the branches; it you mean to remodel the social system of our island, let us not first moulder away to ruin; do not halt between two opinions. " I would tnat you were cold or hot." The capricious bestowal of the patronage of the crown may, for a time, stimulate that even-banded justice it affects to be ; but men grow weary of this at last. The zealous and the active grieve to see that the rewards of government are bestowed upon the cautious and expectant poltician who consults his ease and his interest together, and who, by doing nothing for his country, does every thing for him self. Every country abounds in such " artful dodgers" of politics, but their promotion disgusts honest men of all parties. Take care then—the time is creeping on —some vague assurances of respect for the church as by law esta blished, and for the rights of property generally, will not suffice. Men are beginning even now to exclaim— Quousque tandem Catilina abuteris patentia nostra ? Approach your ta-k in a spirit of determination, and re solve that, acting under the dictates of that constitution you have sworn to defend, you will govern Ireland.— s Dublin University Magazine. A. LANDSCAPE IN SOUTH AMERICA.—A new and sur passingly beautiful landscape burst suddenly upon our view, seeming to dance in the transparent atm .sphere. On either side mountains, those on the left in deep sha dow, those on the right standing forth like colossal figures of light, in a beauty and splendour that seemed really su pernatural, every tree, every branch shining in its own vivid and glorious colouring. There lay the valley in its tropical luxuriance and beauty, one sheet of bloom and blossom up to the topmast crown of the palm trees, that shot up, some of them a hundred and fifty and a hundred and eighty feet high. Thousands and millions of con volvoluses, paulinias. bignonias, nendrohiums, climbing from the fern to the tree trunks, from the trunks to the branches and summits of the trees, and thence again fall ing gracefully down, and catching and clinging to the mangroves and blocks of granite. It burst upon us like a scene of enchantment, as we emerged from the darkness of the forest into the dazzling light and colouring of that glorious valley.—" Two Nights in Mexico," in Black wood. THE QUARTERS OF LIFE.—The seven ages of man have become proverbial : but in respect of the condition of our minds, there are granted to the best of us but four periods of life. The first fifteen years are childhood. 'We know nothing—we hope. The next fifteen are passion and romance—we dream. During the third period of fif teen years, from thirty to forty-five, we are what nature intended us to be. Character has formed : we pursue a course of life ; we reason ; we meditate. This is the pe riod in which we may be said with most propriety to live. The fourth period is that of . commencing decay. We may grow wiser ; but it is the wisdom that speaks in a shake of the head. Pain and penitence begin —we sorrow. Ne vertheless, if the third period has been passed in _pro viding against the fourth, nature is changed, our declining years are lighted with happiness and love, and as they ap proach their destined end, instead of the gloom naturally accompanying decay, they are tinged with a ray from be fore them, the shadows are cast behind us on our path, feelings spring up, unfelt even in the magic periods first traversed by us—we rejoice. —Dublin University Mag. ORIGINAL STYLE OF Boz.—Boz has achieved a great thing—he has created a STYLE. Perhaps lam wrong to say created—a term which implies independence of materials —whereas the singular circumstance in this case is, that by careful study ofprevious styles, by imitation of them, by more, perhaps, than by imitation in the first instance, this author has produced out of the heterogeneous ele ments a compound essentially differing from all its com ponent parts, and claiming—claiming justly—the high merit of being original. That such a result should follow such a course ought to encourage writers who aim at true celebrity, to adopt this humble and painstaking initiatory system, which though in other arts it has admittedly led to the grandest results (in painting for instance) in litera ture has been too much overlooked and despised. Boz now stands alone in his style, he has had no models, he has no imitators, he will probably have no disciples. But, besides this, he has a moral code of his own, akin to no other, except, perhaps, that of Sterne, from whom he appears in part to have derived it. The exquisite ap preciation of the finer phases of feeling, the employment of the most wayward humour in forming character, the undeviating firmness of a humility which acknowledges and courts no elevation but that of the heart, the humanity, the simple pathos, the brevity of expression even, and the sly yet innocent comicality which enlivens the whole—all these are to be found in Sterne, but are transferred to Boz with so much of transmutation as to shine a different substance, having got rid of one alloy in the process— affectation, the great depreciatory ingredient in the metal run from Yorick's skull. I have been led to remark these peculiarities from having found in the " Christmas Carol," illustrations of them all on a small scale. Chuzzlewit is an improvement on Boz's former novels—it is stronger, more fearless, more condensed, more masterly. The Carol exceeds Chuzzlewit in the exquisite moral, and rivals it in its other qualities. Not even Sir Walter Scott's wholesomest fictions ever left a healthier flush upon the mind than does the perusal of this " tin)" vo lume. We rise from it, happy, smiling, and good ; ani mated with benevolence and charity. We have been obliged to sob as we laughed, and to chuckle through our tears. It softens and subdues the heart, and preaches powerfully though indirectly that creed which in the breasts of the best of us is acknowledged and adored as Christian. Let this eminent man continue to instruct and benefit while he delights us. It is thus that fiction may lay claim to be called literature, and its authors earn a niche—more than a niche—a chapel, in the temple of Fame.—Dublin University Magazine. THE LATE STATE TRlALS.—Blackwood for this month, after combatting the desperate attempts made to fasten charges of unfairness " on the fairest of all recorded trials," thus winds up. " And with an interest so keen in promoting the belief of some unfairness, was there ever yet a t rial that could have satisfied the losing party ? Losers have a proverbial privilege for being out of tem per. But in this case more is sought than the mere grati fication of wrath. Fresh hopes spring up in every stage of this protracted contest, and they are all equally ground. less. First, Mr. O'Connell was not to be arrested : it was impossible and absurd to suppose it. Next, being arrested, he was not to be tried. We must all remember the many assurances in Dublin papers—that all was done to save appearances, but that no trial would take place. Then, when it was past denial that the trial had really begun, it was to break down on grounds past numbering. Finally, the jury would never dare to record a verdict of guilty. This, however, being actually done, then was Mr. O'Connell to bring writs of error ; he was to " take the sense" of the whole Irish bench ; and, having taken all that, he was to take the sense of the Lords. And after all these things were accomplished, finally (as we then understood it) he was to take himself off in the direction pointed out by the judges. But we find that he has not yet reconciled himself to that. Intimations come out at intervals that the judges will never dare to pass any but a nominal sentence upon him. We conclude that all these endless conflicts with the legal necessities of his case are the mere gasconades of Irish newspapers, addressing themselves to provincial readers. Were there reason to suppose them authorised by the repealers, there would be still higher argument for what we are going to say. But under any circumstances, we agree with the opinion ex pressed dispassionately and seasonably by the Times newspaper—that judgment must be executed in this case. We agree with that journal—that the nation requires it as a homage rendered necessary to the violated majesty of law. Nobody wishes that, at Mr. O'Connell's age, any severe punishment should be inflicted. Nobody will mis understand, in such a case, the mitigation of the sentence. The very absence of all claim to mitigation, makes it im possible to mistake the motive to lenity in his case. But judgment must be done on Cawdor. Two aggravations, and heavy ones, of the offence have occurred even since the trial. One is the tine of defiance still maintained by newspapers under his control. Already, with one voice, they are ready to assure the country, in case of the sen tence being incommensurate to the case, that government wished to be severe, but had not courage for the effort; and that government dares not enforce the sentence. The other aggravation lies in this—that he, a convicted con spirator. has presumed to take his seat amongst the sena tors of the land—' Venit in senaturo, fit particeps consilii.' Yet Ca , iline, here denounced to the public rage, was not a convicted conspirator; and even his conspiracy rests very much on the word of an enemy. It is true that, in some formal sense, a man's conviction is not complete in our law until sentence has been pronounced. But this makes no reel difference as to the scandalous affront which Mr. O'Connell has thus put upon the laws of the land. And in that view it is, viz. as an atonement for the many outrages offered to the laws, that the nation waits • for the consummation of this public example." WILLIAM AND MARY HOWlTT.—William Howitt is of the niends ; but, as we have frequently heard him de clare,was much more indebted to a steady practice of self instruction than to any school or teacher whatever. He early showed a predilection for poetry ; and in a periodical of that day, called " Literary Recreations," a copy of some verses " On Spring," may be found, stated to be by " William Howitt, a boy thirteen r-nrs of age." During the time that he was not at school, he was accustomed, with his eldest brother, to stroll all over th e c untry, shooting, coursing, and fishing, with an indefatigable zeal which would have delighted any of the Nimrods from whom he was descended. As a boy, he had been an eager birds' nester; and these after-pursuits, together with a stro. , g poetical temperament, and a keen perception of he beauties of nature, made him familiar with all the haunts, recesses, productions, arid creatures of the coun try. In this manner the greatest portion of his early life was spent. Af er he arrived at manhood, however, those pleasures were blended with an active study of chemistry, botany, natural and moral philosophy, and of the works of the best writers of It .Iy, France, and his own country. He also turned the attention of his youngest brother, now Dr. Howitt, to the study of British botany; and the doc tor has since prosecuted it with more constancy and suc cess than himself. General literature and poetry soon drew his attention more forcibly ; and his marriage, in his twenty-eighth year, no doubt naturally contributed to strengthen this tendency. The lady of his choice was Miss Mary Botham, of Uttoxeter, in Staffordshire, also a member of the Society of Friends, and now familiar to the public as the delightful authoress, Mary Howitt. Soon after their marriage, they undertook a walk into Scotland, having long admired warmly the ballad poetry and traditions of that country. In this ramble, after landing at Dumbarton, they went on over mountain and moorland wherever they proposed to go, for one thousand miles, walking more than five hundred of it—Mrs. Howitt performing the journey without fatigue. They crossed Ben Lomond without a guide, and, after enjoying the most magnificent spectacle of the clouds alternately shroud, ing and breaking away from the chaos of mountains around them, were enveloped by a dense cloud, and only able to effect their descent with great difficulty and with considerable hazard. They visited Loch Katrine, Stir. ling, Edinburgh, and all the beautiful scenery for many miles rotted it ; traversed Fifeshire ; and then, taking Abbotsford in their route, walked through the more southern parts, visiting many places interesting for their historical or poetical associations , on to Gretna Gi een , where all the villagers turned out brimful of mirth, sup posing they were come t her e to be married, especially as they entered the public - house where such mat c h es are They ours rteotuirinteerdary pursuits. Here th e y by way of the E ng li s h aoljktire completed, ens: h: isleisure anjv and engaged the landlord to p u t th em in the way l ar g as they have been f requently heard to de ed the most delightf u l j ourney imaginable. . h Soon after their return they settl e d i n N ottingham ; Mr. Howitt, though actively enga ge d i n b usiness, still de soon published another joint volume of poems, called The Desolation of Eyam," which was received with equal favour by the public. The attention which these two volumes excited brought many applications from the editors of annuals and magazines; and both Mr. and Mrs. Howitt for some years contributed a great va riety of articles to these public ' N airons.— ew Spirit of the Age. April 9, 1844._ COMMISSIONERS OF BIRKENHEAD• On Tuesday ev;:ning, the usual monthly meeting the Coto tri-sionerii of Birkenhead was held at the Town - hall. John Deane Case, Esq., presided. I The t alluding t ri ,; ‘ % i r n h N a l .t ANn he tletnan who had been accused of smoking on board oner,v, _i; the p tokets. He also stated that there were some r ema in the STANDARD on the subject, but he did not CO raPle' of them. alleged the to business b e a m i s o r f p e the re s e evening i)tataio giie_b l Vie Mai/ respPctioc the case of Captain Judkins ,_ _ The Watch Committee repotted that two of the Sep t officers had hcen found drunk. ing Nir tak . n the drunkenness. • t th e e l, W. Borne .l\C KdSeri decisive s s u te r e p d s t w h e h e c n om th m e i y tte h e ad fo d r is n c o o t c ha erw n The Fire Committee reported that the new boa Queen, was now completed an d rea dy for work, and tI 3 1 :; the receipts of the Ferry for the past month had sho wn satisfactory increase. Upon the motion of Mr. W. JACKSON, Messrs. Stake field, Cole, and Hind were appointed auditors of ferry accounts, preparatory to the same being subrnittes to the Clerk of the Peace. Mr. JACKSON said that more money would not be lig: mod' if for some time, but that they should not take 7, , if his suggestions were adopted, at a higher rate of i ate t rest than four per cent. (Hear, hear.) He was o the prepared at present to bring forward the reduction of e l ferry-rates ; but his view was, that they would be en abL t o to reduce the rates to contractors as follows :- 2 ° s i • adults, and 10s. for every one belonging to each fee 3l l; and by the Ist of January be hoped to be able to Te a° the rate across to hi. for children, and all besides. The Road Committee were requested to obtain cr . ; mates for six water-carts, and the cost of making the l f f against the next general meeting. The Market Committee were authorised to look out fe d i a suitable site for an additional weighing machine; and also for a convenient site upon which to erect a bridel l '" and magistrates' room. A memorial to the Post-office authorities was adoPted' praying tbem to continue the mail which reaches Birk t l: head at seven o'clock in the evening, and not, as proP o bl to take it off at Harford, and to convey it from thence , . gig, to Chester. counteredhaMd passedr.N%- . sJttrAhoecnrcgsorrr Commonsep reported oppositionr tue unanimously, nnt theina that ou t he Monks Ferry I)? Corporation. All the principal claus ps e la s yr h l a ca d fft b teh e r e eh n La r vi e vi t ile aF e l and one or two saving clauses bad been introduced w t Lord Shaftesbury. He had not the slightest doubt ah4l - obtaining, in the present session, a bill for the e°,,'" struction of docks at Wallasey Pool ;—(hear, heafr, and, while he was speaking on this subject, he m ight well add, that the estimate for the dock, about whiehl w much was said, had been gone into by several most en 3l o i nent contractors. One of them, Mr. Tomkinson , Liverpool, was anxious to get the contract many the sands below the estimates. Mr. Brassy would take it even less. Another individual would take it many tbete sands less than Mr. Tomkinson, and a fourth would till it for less than him again. (He a r, h ear .) He hat" moreover, the opinion of Mr. Cubitt that it was pate!, cable for the a m ou n t s p ec ifi e d • and they had those fw_t eminent contractors w h o wou ld' execute the work for le" than the amount stated in the original estimates. (g ear? hear.) The subject here dropped, and the board adjourned. MEETING OF THE TOXTETH OPERATIVE PROTESTANT ASSOCIATION. o f Israel he aiondsntegHofisnitemedt, h. taehnedm all. The half-yearly meeting of this association, held tiesee e e t l before last at theToxteth-Hall, wasso numerously aitende' r that many persons couldnot obtain admittance shortly aft„ the opening of the doors. The Rev. Heinle M'NEll'' presided ; and we noticed present the Rev. Messr s ' Nolan, Butler, Irvine, and Lea, and Councillors Glalf; brook, Sheppard, Trotman, &c. The proceedings open e r with prayer, after which the Rev. Chairman addreesel the meeting at great length, and with much energy; 1 / 1 1 , 3 we regret that, on account of our Assize reports, we at only afford room for an outline. He began by stating t""' it was written in the Book of Proverb that " as iron sharp; eneth iron, so does the countenance of a man his friend!, and as the weapons of their Christian warfare r equire" sharpening, and to be kept sharp, they met from time t , ° , time for this, amongst other reasons,—that every leni i „, countenance might sharpen his friend to increased activ ll 4 so as to counteract the efforts of those whose business', seemed to be to blunt every thing. There were tot who seemed in these times to be trying to deal with vine truth as masters of gymnasties did with the 011 when they fixed corks upon the points of them so that they might not take effect; or. as when they put stuffe d , gloves on little boys to teach them to box and fight muffled sort of battle. Now, what would the meeting think of soldiers in her gracious Majesty's service who muffled up their swords so that they would not cut; theire guns so that they would not shoot ; their drums that ti!e7e would not beat, or their trumpets that they would gi ve but an uncertain sound? Why, that they were trait.° o 7 for thus rendering their weapons useless, while wearing her Majesty's livery and taking her pay. But what wou l d_ they say of soldiers of a greater than her Majesty, ante pledged to be faithful,—and not only the clergy but te ef laity were the soldiers of Christ,—what would they sal of those who would muffle up the bright blade of the la e o n __ the Lord, so that it carried no conviction to consci, th ''' s ' t and who would so muffle up the everlasting gospel and the trumpet would give forth an uncertain sound, were carry no consolation to the heart of a poor condoms:ere penitent. (Hear, and cheers.) This was what rneß. ae it doing now. They muffled the law of God so ;P ale d brought no conviction to the conscience, and r g i lernen" , up the gospel, mixing it with ecclesiastics' 6 t t was highe so that ,t carried no consolation to the heal-. 1 e sue time they should conside the real nature of the Pro e antism they were defending, and not be misled by n atnee! for there were enemies abroad, who said that Protestaq, ism was only a name and a cloak for party politics. 1 , 1 . there were any such present, they would hear him y7 l _ l ' l ; impatience, for they would rather see the meeting all '',,, the move about some party politics, and abusing s L, protestants of the nation. But he would tell such h erp 04 that all the parliaments in the world could neither neat, nor mar a real Protestant, because a true Protestant Or . of God's own making and keep ng. (Cheers.) The Pre it testantism they met to defend was of the genuine sort i., lay at the foundation of happiness hire, and of salvatto,r, hereafter. What, he asked, had given power and strengt.l to the English nation? Not the name, but the realite ie . : Protestantism. If they had had only nominal Protestsl4 at first, they would never hay- had the reformation; for nominal Protestants would have shrunk from the trials i' ll which true Protestants were exposed in the reign of Qu es t Mary, and denied all they had before said to save the necks. But they had real Protestants then—real Pn4; testant people, and real Protestant bishops; and when Mary tried, and put forth her powers to try them, t"''";, proved themselves true men, and sufficient to light up .1 candle in England that was never yet out. (CbeerU These men had not the parliament on their side—nor t+ Queen, who was herself a Roman Catholic—nor the s ee n , diers. They had but a few faithful sound-hearted 0 0 `; $ who loved the Lord Jesus, who believed in the doe tr ta lte of Christianity, who preached ' them, who &eclat the s ste e to maintain them, and who handed them down to P°_.. e a rity in their articles and homilies. Such were the I D!'__A who existed at the time of the glorious reformation: (tau; what had they now? Talk of Protestantism bein n g the in.. ger. No such thing. Talk of Popery being n i t ? The shout of the conetlerq crease. Let it increase; what had they to fear from Talk of certain men being led away, and going to Rome', H e was W e afraid of either of them. In the name of the Lord Go' ol L afu e t gbhe.i them gwaef g r o wa , iad a n n to d efd ppneooaptceseruycb such people. rpir with ppines. t e h ym e i m samn . y. people(Hear, ea r, talked and which he held in his hand, which cont fay l y— i r n strong-hold of the enemy. became b.goer:eandth tehheabdutrrndueoent achievedfo an it d ow h e t r a o tt f hoe C f h yt r ih i ce s t t o , dr And here they were in OM' sition to the Church of Rome, for she was still in bona: saints. The rev. gentleman here referred to a little boo of one of the Roman Catholic saints—made I te • .s so a ei t 1830. By the bye he saw they going make sal" were to a ~..p . of O'Connell—a queer sort of canonization—St. Dar"' contained isdather'arl description. captain rl l i a e d dh 51 l the First. (Great laughter.) He would read to then what O'Connell would have to do when he became a salt; from the account given in that little book of a man 9: r was a cardinal, and was put on the list for his great I; tues in 1830. The author said, " I know for a certallt he that he constantly scourged himself;" well, perhaps' t e deserved it. It was no part of the Christian's dutt; scourge himself, for where was it enjoined in the Bit, " Bloodily, and sometimes unbloodily, he scourged bom o g self." He read other passages 'describing the freetle o , flagellations which the saint gave himself morning, non"' ' ofw He h it hce h alluded w and night, showing the melancholy state of the Rooolt erei Redeemer,n t strongo be i n atonedthose language fwo who too ? 1 mind, even in the present day. But flagellations One most i w a el m boog e n n u t ehn i i n ts the aopb pi ledarletuo promulgation carlile dtrfuoe o r f ib, t rr h oe e taed lh sa r bn is too t :4 l ? t n h o r t ou w g i h pe th a e w m ay er s c i i n es s apathyttili a e n m a n a man who, of parliament people; woun d lik u e p ne b d y i a t n to aff t e h c e ti c n o g nd c o bli c t ed giver their eiigi t iohrneumas amongst stand by the faith of their fathers, as the only sound In'''' of happiness here and salvation hereafter. et The Rev. Mr. BUTLER then addressed the meeting i f considerable length, imploring them to rouse from • to indolence indolence, and illustrating his argument by eeu" an an 10 , related in Catlin's account of the North Annerican e f4 diens, sho w i ng th a t a l esson m i ght b e derived even American savage life not to be m i s l e d b y th e ev il genius, 10 de cling to that which was good. What alone they had to was to abide by the Gospel. f ill The Rev. THOMAS N OLAN f o ll owe d hi m i n a povel . i i r address in behalf o f P ro t estant i sm. T he o bj ect of t O6 meetings was to settle and establish in their faitb•oh alluded to the ac t o f un i on b etween E ng l an d and Ire . `" „ , e ln showing that the churches of both were our united clill' b et and that the church in Ireland must be maintained lit ne le integrity against all machi na tio ns aga i ns t her, itlesnieer as an injury could not be sustained by one without a J i l l responding weakness being felt by the other. The lea principle of Romanism was hostility to the simplicitlo• 6 easily understood doctrines of Protestantism. ' o w aimed, by the most insidious means, at universal 6 t 're: macy • the ruling of her dupes by tyranny the coc is „ s peA morseless, and the crushing of those who stood be Post truth. The Protestants of Ireland deserved the wa t. ell • sympathies of the Christian population of Englan d ' eta teS, alluding to parliament, he lamented that Protestan t ' e, ano men had not been more true to their professiol6_, to concluded an eloquent appeal by calling upon th e Well cling to the good cause for the sake of themselves 6 as their ne'g'nbours. l a g ri Mr. SHEPPARD proposed, in a highly eon,R l e b iner be. l-- „ speech, a vote of thank s t o th e Ch a i rm an, woe by se seconded by Mr. Councillor T ro t ma n, was c arried clatnation, and ably responded to, after which she o c siastic assemblage peaceably dispersed. SELECTIONS. AN INCIDENT OF THE REIGN OF LOUIS XIV. (From Tom Burke of " Ours.") I am going somewhat far back in history, but have no fears on that head, Burke ; my story is a very brief one. There was once upon a time in France a mom: ch of some repute, called Louis the Fourteenth ; a man, if fame be not unjust, who possessed the most kingly qualities of which we have any record in books. He was brave, mu nificent, high-minded, ardent, selfish, cruel, and ungrate ful, beyond any other man in his own dominions ; and, like people with such gifts, he had the good fortune to attach men to him just as firmly and devotedly as though he was not in his heart devoid of every principle of friend ship and affection. I need not tell you what the ladies of his reign thought of him—my present business is with the ruder sex. Among the courtiers of the day was a certain Viscomte Arnoud de Gency • a young man who, at the age of eighteen, won hi s gra d e oicolonel at the siege of Besan con, by an act of coolness and courage worth recording. He deliberately advanced into one of the breaches, and made a sketch of the interior works of the fortification, while the enemy's shot was tearing up the ground around him. When the deed was reported to the king he inter rupted the relation, sayina-- " Don't tell me who did this, for I have made De Gency a colonel for it." So rapidly did Louis guess the author of so daring a feat. From that hour the young colonel's fortune was made. He was appointed one of the gentlemen of the chamber to his majesty, and distinguished by almost daily marks of royal intimacy. His qualities eminently fitted him for the tone of the society he lived in—he was a most witty con verser, a good musician, and had, moreover. a very hand some person ; gifts not undervalued at " Saint Germain." Such were his social qualities ; and so thoroughly did he understand the king's humour, that even La Valliere herself saw the necessity of retaining him at the court, and, in fact, made a confidant of him on several occasions of difficulty. Still, with all these favours of fortune— when the object of envy to almost all the rest of the house hold—Arnoud de Gem , was suffering in his heart one of the most trying afflictions that can befall a proud man so placed :he -was in actual poverty—in want so pressing, that all the efforts he could make, all the contrivances he could practise, were barely sufficient to prevent his misery being public. The taste for splendour in dress and equi page which characterised the period had injured greatly his private fortune; while the habit of high play, which Louis encouraged and liked to see about him, completed his ruin. The s *lary of his appointments was merely enough to maintain his daily expenditure •, and thus was he, with a breaking heart, obliged not only to mix in all the reckless gaiety and frivolity of that voluptuous court, but still more, tax his talents and his energies for new themes of pleasure—fresh sources of amusement. Worn out, at length, by the long struggle between his secret sorrow and his pride, he resolved to appeal to the king, and, in a few words, tell his majesty the straits to which he was reduced, and implore his protection. To this he was impelled not solely on his own account, but on that also of his only child, a buy of eight or nine years old, whose mother died in giving him birth. An occasion soon presented itself. The king had given orders for a hunting party at St. Cloud ; and, at an early hour of the morning, De Geoff, in his hunting dress, took up his position in one of the ante-chambers through which the king must pass—not alone, however ; at his side there stood a lovely boy, also dressed in the costume of the chase. He wore a velvet doublet of green, slashed with gold, and ornamented by a broad belt, from which hung his couteau de chasse; even to the falcon feather in his cap—nothing was forgotten. He had not waited long when the folding-doors were thrown wide, and a moment after Louis appeared, accom panied by a single attendant, the Marquis de Verneuil, unhappily one of the very few enemies Arnoud possessed in the world. " Ah, De Gency ; you here ?" said the king, gaily. " They told me Brehm' had been unfavourable lately, and that we should not see you." " It is true, sire," said he, with a sad effort at a smile; " it is only on your majesty fortune always smiles." " Pardie you must not say so ; I lost a rouleau last night. But whom have we here ?" " My son, so please you, sire, my only son, who desires, at an earlier stage than even his tether did, to serve your majesty." " How like his mother," said the king, pushing back the fair ringlets from the boy's forehead, and gazing almost fondly on his handsome features; "holy like her,—she was a Courcelles." " She was, sfre," said Arnoud, as the tears fell on his cheek-bone and coursed slowly along his face. " And you want something for him," said the king, re suming his wonted tone, while he busied himself with his sword-knot; " Is it not so ?" " If I might dare to ask—" " Assuredly you may. The thing is, what can we do ? Eh, Verneuil, what say you ? He is but an infant." "True, sire," replied the marquis, with a look of re spect in which the most subtle could not discover a trait of his sarcastic nature ; " but there is a place vacant." " Ah. indeed," said the king quickly. " What is it ? he shall have it." " Monsieur Jacotot, your majesty's head cook, stands in need of a turnepit," said he in a low whisper, only audible to the king. " A turnapit I" said the king ; and scarcely was the word uttered when, as if the irony was his own, he burst into a most immoderate fit of laughter, an emmotion that seemed to increase as he endeavoured to repress it; when at the instant the cor de chasse, then heard without, gave a new turn to his thoughts ; and he hurried forward with De Verneuil, leaving De Gency and his son rooted to the spot—indignant passion in that heart which despair and sorrow had almost rendered callous. His majesty was still laughing as he mounted his barb in the court-yard; and the courtiers, like well-bred gen tlemen, laughed as became them, with that low, quiet laugh which is the meet chorus of a sovereign's mirth, when suddenly two loud reports, so rapidly following on each oth-r as almost to seem one, startled the glittering coriege, and even made the Arab courser of the king plunge madly in the air. " Par St. Denis! messieurs," sad Louis passionately, " this pleasantry of yours is ill thought of. Who has dared to do this ?" But none spoke. A terrified look around the circle was the only reply to the king's question, whew a page rushed forward, his dress spotted and blood-stained, his face pale with horror— " Your majesty—ah, sire !'' said he, kneeling ; but sobs choked him, and be could not utter more. " What is this ?—w;11 no one tell ?" cried the king, as a frown of dark omen shadowed his angry features. " Your majesty has lost a brave, an honest, and a fa:th ful follower, sire," said Monsieur de Coulanges. "Arnoud de Gency is no more." " Why, I saw him this instant," said the king. "He asked me some favour for his boy." " True, sire," replied De Coulanges mournfully ; but he checked himself in time; for already the well-known and (leaded expression of passion bad mounted to the king's face. " Dismiss the chasse,' gentlemen," said he. in a low, thick voice ; " and do you, Monsieur de Verneuil, attend me The coit4e was soon scattered ; and the Marquis de Verneuil followed the king, with an expression where fear and dread were not to be mist .ken. Monsieur de Verneuil did indeed seem an altered man when he appeared among his friends that evening. What ever the king had said to him assuredly had worked its due effect; for all his raillery was gone; and even the veriest trifler of the party might have dared an encounter with wits, which then were subdued and broken. Next morn ing, however, the sun shone out brilliantly. The king was in high spirits, the game abounded ; and his majesty with his own hand brought down eight pheasants. The Marquis de Vernenil could hit nothing ; for although the best marksman of the day, his hand shook, and his sight failed him ; and the king won fifty louis from him before they reached Saint Germain. Never was there a happier day, nor followed by a plea santer evening. The king supped in Madame de la Valliere's apartment; the private band played the most delicious airs during the repast ; and when at length the party retired to rest, not one bright dream was clouded by the memory of Arnoud de Gency. ANTIQUITY OF HERALDRY.—There can be little doubt but that, with all its absurdities heraldry is a most an cient science. The twelve Hebrew tribes bore on their banners insignia, under which the dying patriarch Jacob had typified them (Gen. xlix.) The supporters of our own national arms were regal emblems, even in the days of Balsam. When that bold bad man would speak of the victories and power of Israel, he selects those two animals in illustration (Numbers xxiii. 22, 24 ; xxiv. 8, 9)—the lion, as the emblem of conquest; the unicorn, that of strength.—Dublin University Magazine. WHAT SHOULD BE DONE WITH THE CONVICTED CON VICTED CONSPIRATORS I—Whatever sentence the judges of the land pronounce upon the convicted conspirators, let it be enforced. The purity of that bench—which is not the less unsullied that the rancour of party spirit has dared to asperse it—will not visit their crime with any strained infliction. They will be treated like other men so circumstanced. See to it, then, that you mitigate not their doom, as you would not that of others. Let not Irish treason have favour that is withheld from English. Let not popery press her claim, that a divided allegiance may excuse disloyalty, and be not lenient to the papist where you have been merciless to the protestant. This Point, so insignificant in some respects, is all-important in oth ers. F or the i n di v i dua!s we care not hi ng ; or , if we have any feeling, it is the ordinary one of regret, that men of education and position should have compromised them selves and their liberty by a course of wanton agitation and diiturbance. But for the cause of peace, for the hope of future advantage to Ireland, for the success of that better state we look for with longing and anxiety, we say. punish the e v il-d oers , se t men an example of the fruits of rebellious disturbance. Disabuse the peasant mind of the invulnerability of their arch deceiver. Let them know that be who boaeted the fertility of his wiles, h a s found the law t oo strong for him. Show them the libellous dis seminators of rebellion in rhyme, and prose treason, at the bars of Kilmainham. Let the " Freeman" be a mis nomer as palpable as the " Nation," or the " Pilot." Do this, and your measure of conciliation—if such a name convey ne false impression —will show that you can be University generous while ju s t, an d that a sense of right, w h e th er t o c p o u u n , i i s t i r l y . o_r reward, is damongmtahgeazczbnae.racteristics of your