The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-01-09 00:00:00

- -71 r=• r PO ETRY. A MISSIONARY HYMN. BY ML.qS M. A. GAMMAGg. (For th^ tirerpool Stan.lird.) " In due season we shall re,p, if we Print not "—GAL. vi. 9. Raise h trt , t'v' standard o. the ro,s! Spread the zlad news air! )a , i Till all the king•donis of the c Shall bow before the 1,0 (t What though ;he enemies :•1. ('heist Miy strive to h-r the e''y ; What e.,,..; y w;ia! ear tiny might, The King of kings shall stay? Our God is wit: r doubt ye not The issue of ti:e Ile sheds upon our .n.war.: path A stream livine Veht. Fear not 1 the chat: ne=s of the lands 5h.,11 fade '•efo, e r very salt. inrwir !ig rise the G T r t! the groat -iv.? glorious rize now in view; g. ,h r. the promi , e it your hearts tiii •'e shall fi,i;l Is nc ur•.; u:^rs e CAW(' of God? And wh , . Cs .1 , nbt success. When I; e bath plerhze:! His word of truth The war. tu love to 1314'ss ? Oh, Thou who hearest prayer I send forth Thy power and ' , light we prav, And let the giiinmering shine on To pure and perfect day. " PAPA! WHO ARE THE IRISH?" The " Irish" are people vrh 1 brawl. my child, I❑ the " Conciliation Hail " my child, Who would ..ick u • a row, If they only knew how, And were proof against powder and ball, my child. The " Irish" are those who don't care, my child, If their dupes should go hungry and bare, my child; Who excite discontent, To 6 I DA N'S hag with " rent." And make profit of want and despair, my child. The" Irish" are tho4e who talk loud, my child, To excite art i .flammabie crowd, nay child; But the Lion of Law Only lifts np taw. And at once they stand cringing and cow'd. my child. These " Irish" call " Saxon" and "slave " my child, To all on their plans who look grave, my child; While " tyrants" are they Whom the loyal ohey .From confusion the country to save, my child. These " Irish" of concord ~!an prate, my child, All the while teaching discord and hate, my child; Drinzinz sca•,•lal and shame -On an Irishman's name: May confusion their projects await, my child I CARDINAL DE RETZ, Ott THE COURTIER'S PLOT. BY PETER POPJOY, E,q• (For the Liverpool Standard.) CFIAFTER X The unwilling conspirator—A sudden and unexpected visitor. TttE uttera-ce of this distinguished name -welled at once the indignant feeling that had been gradually gathering in Fabien's breast. He now began to perceive the task that was required of him. "And' is it," s.,id he, with an honest energy, " the first prince of the Royal blood—the great Coade—that it is proposed I should assas..inate ?" " Peace ! peacel in 1 - leaven's name," said the Baron, with an air of aim m ; " some one will hear you." "And do you, brother, require me to embrue my hands in such noble blood ? Is it your wish that I should strike the hero—the very saviour of Prance?" " Silence, Fabien—or I swear"— " And do you think that you can make me believe—l who am but a simple countryman—that the Queen of France has given so horrible a command ? " Be silent, Sir, I command you," said the Baron, seizing him by the arm. The next moment Fabien beheld a dagger glittering over his head. Quick as lightning, the hardy youth flung off his brother's grasp, and caught hold of the threatening steel; he was about to direct its point against the Baron's breast—he, however, cast it from him, and sunk on the nearest seat, covering his face with his hands. A silence of some moments followed this rapid scene. " Monsieur de Creissi," at length murmured Fabien, in an altered tone of voice; " what would our poor father have said had be seen us—his sons, just now ?" " He would have said, Fable.'," replied Albert, with boldness, " that you are an , bstinate and thick-headed fool, who instead of coolly discussing those measures which cannot but tend to your advancement, can utter words so loudly, that, if heard, would inevitably cast both of us into a state prison. Come, Fabien," said he, all at once moderating his tone, and approaching his brother, " let as forget this disagreeable encounter, and let us calmly converse, without passion or prejudice. You have taken offence at a proposition which many of the nobles of Paris would have accepted without hesitation ; if they could have only complied with the terms of the agreement. To quote an example in justification of this aff.ur, the great Duke de Guise rendered to France quite as many services as this turbulent and ambitious Prince de Conde ; nevertheless, he was poignarded in the anti-chamber of Henry III! There was no one could blame those gentlemen, who but obeyed the order of their sovereign —their escutcheon did not receive any stain from this act of during; and I could call to your mind many of their descendants amongst us who carry their heads hi h at court, and who speak of their father's deeds as worthy of commendation, and as proofs of loyalty. That which we must all deplore the most, F a h;,,, is, that party rage should have put the Queen in such an extremity that she cannot save Fiance, without having recourse to the means which her own heart, and the hearts of her devoted adherents, cannot but re prove as much as you." The wily Baron now paused to judge of the effect which this specious speech might have upon his brother. Fabien remained pensive and abstracted, as if he measured the' depth of the abyss into which his brother wished to plunge him. " Sir!" at length asked he, in a tone which he simu lated. and with a calmness which he did not feel, " I am not skilled in casuistry, and I cannot dispute with you upon matters like these. I wish to know what will become of me if l refuse to accomplish the task which you have prescribed me ?" " You must have thought. Fahieti," replied the Baron, his brows lowering as he spoke, " that is, if you think at all, that in the event of your refusal to accede to orr wishes, when you were possessed of the important secret, we have not omitted to adopt means for our safety. Your betrayal of our intentions to the Prince would be a pretext fora civil war, and a specious one it would be, indeed, to the new faction. If, therefore, you refuse to serve us, be hold that which would shelter us from your indiscretions." So saving', the Baron laid upon the table several blank lettres-de-cochet. _ _ " I need only endorse your name upon one of these pa pers," continued he drily, " and in one hour the doors of Vincennes or the Bastille would be closed for ever upon you." " What, sir," said Fabien, in an accent of bitter te prose) ; " would you, Albert de Croissi, allow me to lan guish in a state prison because I have refused to accom plish a deed wi ich my conscience abhors? Albert, my brother—you would not do this ?" " I would—l would deliver you up myself," said De Croissi, in a fierce tone ; " you little think, young man, how slightly you are valued in comparison to the safe keep ing of such secrets as that you are now in possession of.' " But I am something now before you," said Fabien, drawing himself up to his full height, "we are alone. I am more active than you, and I will defend myself against such an act of tyranny." The Baron shook his head with an air of pity; when, rising gravely, he laid hold of Fabien gently by the arm, and led him to the window, where, r.inting to the court yard below, he showed him several persons of sinis ter aspect who were lounging about. " I told you that all my precautions were taken. Look at those fellows ; those men a ould slay you in an instant were Ito make to them the least sign. Without the least compunction they would not scruple to execute a lettre de-cachet to conduct you to Vi cennes. A coach awaits our coming close by. Several confidential persons surround the house, and would enter it, on the least noise being made. hile I now speak to you any one may come into this hotel, but no one can leave it without my express permission." " I care not. I will proclaim your secret ; I will stir up the people." , lf you cry out, you shall be gagged ; and if you divulge the secret to your guards, they will be doomed to partici pate in your captivity ; and I look upon you as being a man of too honest a nature to drag a poor fellow into the same scra pe as yourself. As it is, I have so arranged matters that they will not believe you, whatever you should say to them ; and no credence would be placed in your words, if the people even should gather about you on your way to prison • I need only show the royal mandate, and every one will satisfied and quiet. We must hay , no non sense, sir;it may perhaps cost you dearly to trifle with me." A silence followed these words ; the younger De Croissi cast himself on a seat with an air of despair, convinced that all resistance was useless. The Baron stood before him, calm, cool, and inexora ble. " Come, be quick," said he, after a pause; " have you decided ?" c " Sir," said Fabien, slowly, " you have spoken to me re f ward committing a cr i me; b u t w hy do you not mention my ?" inquiry This at length to announced that Fabian had de cided to yield This seeming consent, however vague and necessity . This given, appeared to con vince Albert that his was, gained. But he dared not l ea ve him to himself. that you .. The reward," said he, " you know that will be im mense, a nd, I may add, all r .. A magnificent Mlle. de Montglat, and wish to marry her. You love Le allotted to her; title, a nt i dowry willaches also, will be yours. " But," interrupted Fabien, warmly, " is it true h the Countess is 'acqua inted with this arrangetneni,tand at that she is ready and willing to ratify it ? She has b efq deceived, or I deceive myself." . . " Upon my honour, as a gentleman, she is deeply en gaged in this plot, and has undertaken on her part to re ward with her hand and fortune your devotion to her royal mistress." " And is she, too," cried the young man—" is she, too, in league with my brother to induce me to become an as sassin ?" Fabien hid his face in his hands, upon the table, and shed abundant tears. _ _ The wily Baron prhfited by this show of feeling, and employed all his perfidious arts, acquired by long expe rience at court, to extract from Fabien a consent. He entreated, then threatened. He enumerated at length the grievances that had accumulated in France since the death of Louis XII., all of which he attributed to the pride and ambition of Conde. He endeavoured also to prove to his brother, that in obeying a legitimate power he did nothing contrary to divine or human justice, and at length alluded to the great rewards which he would have a right to demand, and obtain, when he had succeeded. Fabien did not seem to listen to him, so absorbed was he in grief. At length, raising himself up — with a chok ing voice, he ask e d, a " Can vou show me an order written by the Queen, in her own handwriting, which commands me to strike so foul a blow?" Such an order as that, Fabien, would be too danger ous to sign, and it would be absurd to ask it ; but if you wish, and will be content with a verbal instruction, I will promise you that you shall see the Queen, and she shall deliver it to you herself." " And Elizabeth, the Countess de Montglat ; can you place me in her presence, and let me hear from her lips her approbation of this terrible enterprize?" I can." " Well, then," said Fabien, " I accept the task on this double condition ; I will do what is de sired of me b y these two ladies : one I respect, the other I dearly love." This was said with some little wildness of manner, but Albert saw rilthing but the gratification of his wishes. " I hope you do not—l think you cannot wish to de ceive me, Fabien," said the Baron ; " if you intend to do so, let me tell you that you are playing a perilous game. I repeat to you that you shall be told by both the Queen and Mile. de Montglat that this act is necessary to save France. But, Fabien, you will have, in your turn, to swear to us devotion to our cause, and discretion when put to the test. If the blow fails, we will assuredly save you, but you must not mur mur At the tortures you will have to sustain, or the rigours with which you may be treated. You must swear to us to remain silent as the grave ; one avowal from your lips would perhaps bring about destruc aon to the Queen, the Countess de Montglat, and many others." " I will not make this promise to you, brother," said Fabien, in a tone of reprimand; " it is not to you I will swear to maintain my vow. None other than the Queen has a right to demand it of me." " Well, you shall see her to-night." " And Elizabeth ?" • At this moment, a gentle knock at the door was heard, and a soft voice calling on the staircase. Fabien at once recognised it. " Here she is herself," cried he; we will now see if you are deceiving me." At the same time, Fabien unbarred the door, when Eli zabeth, enveloped in a dark mantle, and wearing a black mask, suddenly entered the apartment. (To be continued.) NOTICES. Blackwood's Magazine. We have perused the number for the present month with much pleasure, and, we trust, no little profit. It contains several sound, argumentative, and well-penned articles of a political character, as well as a considerable variety of others, some of them involving interesting real adventure and perils, and some of that lighter and inven tive description which range themselves amongst the pro ductions of the tale-writer, the novelist, and the poet. The first article, headed " State Prosecutions," inquires into the relative systems of it gal procedure pursued in past and in present times, and successfully combats the opinion too widely entertained of the superiority of the former, adducing incontrovertible instances proving that the discord, tyranny, and oppression of those days has given way to a practice more humanely considerate to offenders, to whom every possible chance of vindication is allowed ; more in accordance with the benevolent feel ings of the age, and, though apart from all vindictiveness, more sure and effectual in the punishment of delinquents, while at the same time the majesty of the law is main tained with ride( na firmness, and the people are led to respect it from it, justice and certainty, rather than to fear it from its extreme severity. He furnishes a succinct view of the principal state prosecutions for the last thir teen years, including the cases of O'Connell, Lawless, and others, in 1831,—0f the Canadian convicts brought from Canada in 1838,—the Monmouthshire riots in 1839. —the Chartists in 1842,—and the Rebecca rioters ; and from these it appears that the failures of state prosecu tions have been comparatively few. In noticinv the fair ness with which these prosecutions are now conducted, he forcibly remarks :—" Every consideration is shown, every indulgence is granted to the unfortunate being who is in jeopardy. The crown has no interest to serve be yond that which the state possesses in the vindication of the law, and that cool, deliberate, and impartial adminis tration of justice which has so long distinguished this country. Nothing is unduly pressed against the prisoner, but every extenuating fact is fairly laid before the jury by the crown ; it is, in short, generosity, candour, and for bearance on the one side, matched against craft, cunning, and the resolution by any means to win, upon the other. Such are the real difficulties that may be often felt by those who conduct a state prosecution ;"—but, he argues, it is better that those difficulties should remain, than that any change should come over the spirit in which these trials are now conducted. The writer furnishes much information on the manner in which law proceedings are conducted in our courts ; the pleas a prisoner may put in, the challenging of jurymen, the trial itself before a jury, &c.; and concludes with some remarks on the present case of O'Connell and others, from which we elsewhere quote a passage.—The " Adventures in Texas " are con cluded in this number, and abound in extraordinary mili tary adventure—" the struggle" ending with the freedom of that country. A classical review of a curious Greek romance follows. The " New Art of Printing "—that is by illustration—is quizzically hit off. The story entitled " The banking House," continued in two former num bers, is concluded in this. It is, we think, rather too long fot such a publication, and rather mechanically construct ed, though containing some striking and effective scenes. The finale appears to us to be also rather severely retri butive on the erring but humane hanker, who is killed in a duel—a mode of exit happily becoming unfashionable. This is, however, a matter of taste. " Marston, or Me moirs of a Statesman," is continued with, if possible, increasing interest. It is replete with military and diplo matic adventure during the revolutionary mania in France, and Lafayette and other prominent characters form dra matis. personce. The last article, and in our opinion the best in the number, is on " The position and prospects of the Government," which ably vindicates Sir R. Peel and his ministry from the vague and groundless aspersions thrown upon them, and shows their policy to have been wise and benefic al. From this an extract or two will be found in another column. The writer, in the course of his remarks. inflicts a sound castigation on the Anti- Corn-Law League. Hood's Magazine, No. I. of this work—an agreeable comic miscellany— (as may he expected from the name.) has reached us. and has afforded us much amusement. There is an anreeable conimitsgletnent of prose and verge, and though "the grave" occasionally appears, it serves in contrast but to set off " the gay" to better advantage. The first piece— " The Haunted House,"—a short metrical romance, is well conceived and talentedlv wr ught up. " For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of my-tery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is haunted !" This is illustrated by a beautiful vignette in the best line of engraving, representing " The Haunted House" and the scenery around it. "The Reminiscences of Bayonne" is a graphic and interesting sketch of that locality, and its manners and customs. One of the most amusing pieces in the book is e n titl e d " G rea t Tom of Oxford.' and details some extraordinary adventures of a young stu dent on his first entering the University. " Mrs. Bur race," a temperance romance is also well told and ex tremely ludicrous. " Life in the Sick Room," (a review) is of a serious curb, and replete with affecting narrative. " A Christmas Carol," in prose, by C. Dickens, is lively and enteriainine, exhibiting much of the original humour, as well as of the kindly feeling of the author. " A Prac tical Joke" is droll enough as it proceeds, but beyond a joke in its termination. One of the articles " A Dream by the Fire" is well told, as is a satirical essay entitled "An Irish Rebellion." The poetry is generally too long for quotation, but (referring to an extract in prose from the present number in another column,) we give the fol lowing _ _ EPIGRAM ON THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE STATuEE IN TRAFALGAR-SQUARE. If Nelson locks down on a couple of Kings, However it pleases the Logsls; 'Tis after the fashion of nautical thing,s A Sky-scraper over the Royals. SELECTIONS. BRITISH HATRED OF AMERICAN INSTI TUTIONS. (From Martin The Honourable Elijah Pogram glanced at his friends as though he would have said, •• Observe this! See what follows!" and they rendered tribute to the Pogram ge nius, by a gentle murmur. " Our fellow-countryman is a model of a man, quite fresh from Natur's mould!" said Pogiam, with enthu siasm. He is a true-born child of this free hemisphere! Verdant as is the mountains of our country ; bright and flowing as are our mineral Licks ; uhspiled by withering conventionalities as air our broad arid boundless P, rearers! Rough he may be. So air our Barr.. Wild he may be. So air our Buffalers. But he is a child i f Natur', and a child of Freedom ; and his boastful answer to the Despot and the Tyrant is, that his bright thlme is in r he Settin Sun." Mr. Pogram waited until his bearers were calm again, before he said to Mark : " You do not seem to coincide, Sir ?" " Why," said Mark, " I did n't like him much, and that's the truth, Sir. I thought he was a bully ; and l did n't admire his earryin' them mur derous little per_ suadir-, and being so ready to use " It 's singl r!' said rogratu, lifting his umbrel!a high enough to look all round fri•tit umler it. " It's strange! You observe the settled opnosoion to our institutions which pervades the British mind !" " What an exttaortlinary people you are!" cried Mar tin. " Are Mr. Chollop and the class be represents, an Institution here? Are pistols with revolving barrels sworn-sticks, bowie knives, and such things, Institutions on which you pride yourselves ? Are bloody duels, brutal combats, savage assaults, shootings down and stabbing in the streets, your Institut;ons! Whv I shall hear next, that Dishonour and Fraud are among the Institutions of the great republic!" _ The moment these words passed his lips, the Honoura. ble Elijah Pogram looked round again. " This morbid hatred of our Ir,stitutions," 1-e observed, "is quite a study for a physchological observer. " He's alludin to Repudiation now!" " Oh ! you may make anything an Institution if you like," said Martin, laughing, " and I confess you had me there, for you certainly have made that, one. But the greater part of these things are one Institution with us, And we call it by the generic name of Old Bailey ?" " What do you think of my countrymen who are pre sent, Sir ?" inquired Elijah Pogram. " Oh ! very pleasant," said Martin. They were a very pleasant party. No man had spoken a word ; every one had been intent, as usual, on his own private gorging; and the greater part of the company were decidedly dirty feeders. The Honourable Elijah Pogram looked at Martin as if he thought, " You don't mean that, I know!" And he was soon confirmed in this opinion. Sitting opposite to them was a gentleman in a high state of tobacco, who wore quite a little beard, composed of the overflowings of that weed, as they had dried about his mouth and chin : so common an ornament that it scarcely attracted Martin's observation . but this good citizen, burning to assert his equality against all corners, sucked his knife for some moments, and made a cut with it at the butter, just as Martin was in the act of taking some. There was a juicyness about the deed that would have sickened a scavenger. When Elijah Pogram (to whom this was an every-day incident) saw that Martin put the plate away, and took no butter, he was quite delighted, and said " Well! The morbid hatred of you British to the In stitutions of our country, is as-ToNishing I" " Upon my life !" cried Martin in his turn, " this is the most wonderful community that ever existed. A man deliberately makes a hog of himself, and that's an Insti tution !" THE REGULAR AND IRREGULAR DRAMA. (From Hood's Magazine.) A writer in the Times lately attributed the decline of the public taste for theatrical exhibitions to the superiority of the dramatic scenes, serious and comic, which are so ad mirably got up and performed daily in the bankruptcy courts, the Old Bailey, Guildhall, Westminster Hall, the police-offices, the courts of conscience, and other houses, major and minor, in London and the provinc-s. And there is certainly some truth in the theory ; for the snatches of tragedy, comedy, and farce, furnished by such places, are much more interesting and amusing, and in finitely more instructive than the pieces fabricated by most of our modern play-wrights. Some of the judges and counsel show quite as " fiery off" as any stars on the hoards, and the jarors, common or special, are quite as clever and entertaining as the walking gentlemen. The want of music and dancing in the places alluded to, makes them less strong in opera and the ballet, and her Majesty's Theatre, in the Haymarket, prospers accord ingly, from the absen eof competition. The police offices, however, are powerful rivals to the Adelphi. Surrey, &c., in pieces of strong and sometimes very domestic interest, the plots of which are duly recorded in some of the daily prints ; and melo-drama flourishes at the sessions-house and in the inquest-roi.m. Here and there a coroner is also a very respectable performer in the funny line; arid constables, beadles, and bumpkin wit nesses are low comedians. How far it might be practicable to retrieve the fortunes of the patent theatres, by allowing a certain portion of the public business to be transacted on the stage, is left for the proprietors to discuss with the lord chamberlain • no thing else, probably, will ever raise the shares of either to a profitable premium —for, who would pay to sit at their fictitious shows, when he might, gratis, see such exhibitions of real life elsewhere, and listen to the genuine dialogue of human nature ? Here is a brief example : MISAPPRENENSION..—A DRAMATIC SKETCH. SCENF.—A Club Room at the Hare and Hounds. At the table sits the County Coroner with his Clerk. The Jurors are arranged round the board. The Constable, Src.. fill the background. TIMOTHY GUBBINS, a witness, is under examination. Cor.—Did you know the defunct? Wit.—Who's he ? Cor.—Why, the dead man. Wit.—Yes. (Pr.—lntimately ? Wit.—Were. Cor.—How often have you been in company with him ; Wit.—Ony once. Cor.—And do you call that intimately ? Wit.—Yes—for he were wery drunk, and I were wery drunk—and that made us like two brothers. Cor.—Who recognised the body ? Wit.—Jack Adams. Cor.—H ow did he recognise him? Wit.—By standing on his head to let the water run out. Cor.-1 'mean how did he know him? Wit.—By his plush jacket. Cor.—Anything else ? Wit.—No : only his face were so swelled, his own mo ther wouldn't have knowed him. Cor.—Then how did you know him ? Wit.—'Cause 1 warn't his mother. [Applause in court. Cor.—What do you consider the cause of his death? Wit.—Drownding in course. Cor.—Was any attempt made to resuscitate him? Cor.—How ? Wit.—We sarched his pockets. Cor.—l mean did you try to bring him to ? Wit.—Yes----to the public-house. Cor.—l mean to recover him. Wit.—No. We warn't told to. Did you ever suspect the deceased of mental alienation ? Wit.—Yes—the whole village suspected un. Cor.—Why ? Wit.—That he alienated one of the Squire's pigs. Cor.—You misunderstand me. I alluded to mental aberration. Wit.—Some thinks he was. Cor.—On what grounds? Wit.—l believe they belonged to Squire Waters. Cor.—Pshaw. I mean was he mad? Wit.—Sartenly. Cor.—What, devoid of reason? Wit.—He had no reason to drownd himself as I know of. Cor.—That will do, sir. (To the Jury.) Gentlemen, you have beard the evidence, and will consider of your verdict. Foreman.—Your worship, we are all of one mind. Cor.—Well, what is it? Foreman.—We don't mind what. We're agreeeble to anything your Worship pleases. Cor.—No, gentlemen—l have no right to dictate—you had better consult together. Foreman.—We have, your Worship, afore we came, and were all unanimous. Cor.—l am happy to hear it, gentlemen. (To the Clerk.) Mr. Dicks, take down the verdict. Now then, gen' lemon. Foretnan.—Why, then, your Worship, it's " Justifiable Suicide ;"—but begs to recommend to mercy ;—and hopes we shall be allowed our expenses. HEADACHE.—Food taken into the stomach of a person of weak digestion immediately before retiring to rest, lodges there during the greater part of the night very little altered ; thus acting as an irritant for so many hours on an organ already too sensitive, can we wonder that the pa tient should awake in the morning with a headache? But it frequently happens that the change the food has under gone during sleep, is not merely imperfect in kind, but unwholesome likewise in its nature, and the crudity gene rated by the morbid process usually abounds with acidity. —Dr. Hume Weatherhead on Diet. UNLUCKY DAYS.—Thou beginnest in the morning, for instance, by putting thy shirt on wrong side out, and this gives a kind of direction to the events of the day. Thou cuttest thyself when thou art shaving, thou guest out to seek people whom thou dust not find, and thou art found by people whom thou dost not seek, and whom thou couldst wish at Jericho; thou sagest what is dull when thou wish est to be witty ; thy dinner is bad ; every thing goes in conceivably wrong; and if thou takest it into thy head to make au offer to a lady, such a day thou mayst be certain of getting a refusd, for thou art on the wrong side of thy luck. What the President had turned wrong side out in his toilet, on a certain Thursday, in a certain week, in a certain month, I will not take upon me to guess ; but certain it was that an ungentle fate followed him all through the day, and every member of the family was made more or less conscious of it.—From Mary Howilt's new work, " The President's Daughter." DR. MAGINN'S CONVERSATIONAL Powitass.—l sat, on last Friday, two hours with Dr. Maginn in his bed room. The doctor has been raking, I believe, since his family went to France ; he was quite ill when I saw him. However, he managed to write a leader for the Argus newspaper in his shirt, and that completed, he jumped into bed, and we had, a, long talk. The more I see of him, the more I admire his talent. He is really a splen did fellow. He knows everything. He will teach you as much in one hour as the best book will in ten. His conversation is the most extraordinary thing possible. He jumbles together fun, philosophy, and polemics; and in these (so incongruous) he is pre-eminent. At first you would say, that he spent all his life reading jest books ; but then there is such admirable philosophy and common sense in his reflections, that you get rid of your first notion as quickly as possible. But just as you are on the point of averring that t his man reads nothing but works of thought and reaso ning, you are forced to gulp down the exclamation, for he jumps into theology, and will argue on it like a bishop. Then you declare that he has studied nothing but polemics all his life. Such a man is Maginn. He is a ruin, but a glorious ruin neverthe less. lie takes no care of himself. Could he be induced to do so, he would be the first man of the day in litera ture, or anything else. But he lives a rollicking life; and will write you one of his ablest articles while standing in his shirt, or sipping brandy, so naturally do the best and wittiest thoughts flow from hi§ pen. His reading is im mense; his memory powerful; and his knowledge of the world is perhaps equal to that of any man that ever lived. In fact, I say he knows everythitr, and so he does. We talked about a war with France, about which all the John and Jenny Bulls are getting anxious. The doctor assert ed stoutly that there would be none, and quoted Lord Brougham. who said, in allusion to the national debt, that England was bi end in eight. hunched millions to keep the peace.—Dublin Magazine. THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. SECONI) 11,1)1 ; . Standard-o/ice, Three o'clock. LIVERPOOL COTTON MARKET.—TtIis DAY. A fair average enquiry for Cotton to-day, at the full prices of yesterday, with a market rather hardening than otherwise. The sales are estimated at 2,500 to 3,000 bales, entirely to the trade. LIVERPOOL CORN EXCHANGE, THIS DAY. (From Messrs. R. Makin 8r Sons' Circular.) The arrivals into ibis port up to and since Friday last, furnish a moderate supply of Wheat, Oats and Flour, with a few parcels of Barley and a further large accession of Oatmeal from Ireland ; those in Coastwise, during the same time, forming little more than 1532 qrs, of Wheat, and from Canada 1680 qrs. of Wheat, 442 qrs. Pease, and . 3211 barrels of ,Flour, Ls specified underneath. Upon a good attendance of local and country millers at thi s day's market, the Wheat trade was firm, all sorts of English and Irish new commanding a slight advance upon the improved rates of Friday, thereby increasing our quo-, tations for these descriptions 2d. per 'Nibs. ; the general runs of foreign- free Wheat were also Id per bushel dearer; the amendment, however, was not readily complied with, nor were the transactions beyond a moderate amount. Flour continuing to meet a good demand, English, Irish, and Canadian realised fully the advance noted in our report of Friday. Barley and Malt, attended with a moderate sale, re mained steady in value. Beans and Pease were in limited request, but not cheaper. Oats and Oatmeal attracting much less notice to-day than usual, both were taken off very sparingly, and scarcely maintained our last currency. ' ARRTVALS OF CORN. From the 2nd to the Bth Jan., 180, inclusive. IRE- COAST !CANADATO REIGN. TOTAL. LAND. WISE. V‘ heat .. Ors. ; 2936 I 1532 1680 46 6194 Barley Qrs. I 498 44 542 M alt Qrs. 2OO 22 222 Oats Qrs. ) 6122 20) 6322 Rye Qrs. Beans Pease Qrs.' 442 I 442 Shelled HarleyQrs. Indian Corn Qrs. I I Rapeseed Qrs. I Oatmeal .. Loads 15783 2 2 ' I 15985 Flour. ....Sacks 4;63 47 4813 , Ditto Brls. 3211 3211 Into Runcorn, Ireland and Coastwise, Wheat. 125 qrs. ; Malt, 368 qrs. ; Oats, 91 qrs.; Beans, 187 qrs. ; Oatme.l, 898 loads ; Flour, 592. sacks. EXPORTS.—Foreign. Malt, qrs. ; Oats, 163 qrs. ; Pease. 25 qrs. ; Indian Cor. - qrs.; Oatmeal, 0 loads ; Flour. 2115 brls.---Ireland Wheat, 64 qrs. ; Beans, qrs ; Indian Corn. qrs. ; Flour, sacks, brls.—Coastwise. Wheat, 171 qrs. ; Harley, 15 qrs. ; Malt, 22 qrs. ; Oats 24 qrs. ; Beans, 0 qrs. ; Pease, qrs. ; Indian Corn, qrs.; Oat . meal, loads ; Flour, 04 sacks 102 brls. Average prices of Grain, for the week ending Dec. 30 lii3, Wheat 495. gd. I Barley :12s. 3d. Oats 18s. sd. Rye 31s. 4d . _ Beans.:3oS. lu.Pease.. 31s. 6.1 Aggregate average of the six weeks. Wheat 50s 8d I Barley 32s Od I Oats 18s Bd. I Rye 30, 5d , Beans..3la. sd, j Pease..32s. Bd. Duty on Foreign Grain, Br.c. this week. Wheat2os Od I Barley 6s Od I Oats .. . 8s Od Rye.. If's 6d Beans los 6d I Pease.. 10s 6,1 I Ind. Corn ns Od I Flour 125 Old Ditto from British Colonies out of Europe. Wheat.. Is. Od. I Parley.. os. fd. Oats 2s. od. Rye.. 2s 6d. Beans Is. 6d I Pease Is. Od. I Ind. Corn Os. 01. I Flour Os. 74d. Liverpool Averages, week ending January 2, 1843, Wheat, 1367 qrs.. price 465. led. Oats. 223 qrs. price 17s. sd. Barley, qrs. price es. Od. THE IRISH STATE PROSECUTION OF O'CONNELL.— Whatevey be the result of that prosecution, whether those indicted be found Cu lty or acquitted of the misdemeanours laid to their charge, we feel assured, on the one hand, however long and grievous may have been the " provoca tion," that while there will be " nothing extenuate," nei ther will there he " set down aught in malice ;" but that the measure of the retribution now demanded by the state. will be so temperately and equitably adjusted, that while the very semblance of oppression is carefully avoided, the majesty of the law, and the powers of the executive, will be amply and entirely viudicatA. On the o. her hand, if Mr. O'Connell and his companions, in guilt or misfor tune, should break through the cobwebs of the law, and hurl a retrospective defiance at the eovernmen', we feel the utmost confidence, that the learning, foresight, and ability, of the eminent lawyers who rep. eseht the crown, together with the firmness and integrity of the Irish bench. "sans peur et sans reproche," will demonstrate to the millions who look on, that the constitutional powers of the state still remain uninjured and unimpaired in all their pristine and legitimate energy and vigour; and that neither in the machinery now set in motion, nor with those who the on chum;conduct i in course supe o r superintend itsac proceedings,tio but sci wilt with be thrown others execution of a grave and all important duty, :mist rest the real blame, if blame there he, of the failure of this " State Prosecution."—" State Prosecutions," in Blackwood's Magazine. AN OLD-FASHIONED ENGLISH TAVERN.—Being set ashore, with very little,n•oney in their pockets, and no de finite plan of operatiotfin their heads, they sought out a cheap tavern, where they regaled upon a smoking steak. and certain flowing mugs of beer, as only men just landed from the sea can revel in the generous dainties of !h -earth. When they had feasted, us two grateful-tempered giants might have done, they stirred the fire. drew back the glowing curtain from the window, and making each a sofa for himself, by union of the great unwieldy chairs. gazed blissfully into the street. Even the street was made a fairy street, by being halt hidden in an atmosphere of steak, and strong, stout, stand-up English beer. For on the window-glass hung such a mist, that Mr. Tapley was obliged to rise and wipe it with his handkerchief, before the passengers appeared like common mortals. And even then, a spiral little cloud went curling up from their two glasses of hot grog, which nearly hid them from each other. It was one of those unaccountable little rooms which are never seen anywhere but in a tavern, and are supposed to have got into taverns by reason of the facili ties afforded to the architect for getting drunk while en gaged in their construction. It had more corners in it than the brain of an obstinate man; was furl of mad clo sets, into which nothing could be put that was not spe cially invented and made for that purpose; had myste rious shelvings and bulk-heads, and indications of stair cases in the ceiling ; and was elaborately provided with a bell that rung in the room itself, about two feet from the • handle, and had no connection whatever with any other part of the establishment. It was a little below the pave ment, and abutted close upon it ; so that passengers grated against the wintlew-paties with their buttons, and scraped it with their baskets - ; and fearful boys suddenly coming between a guest and the light, derided him, or put out their tongues as if he were a physician ; or made white knobs on the end of their noses by flattening the same against the glass, and vanished awfully like spectres. Martin Chuzzlewit. THE HYPOCRISY OF THE LEAGUE TOWARDS THE FARMERS.—" We can never carry the measure oursekes : we must have the agricultural labourers with us 1" They therefore proceeded to commence operations upon the agricultural constituencies. They knew they could always reckon upon a share of support wherever they went—it being hard to find any country without its cluster of bitter and reckless opponents of a conservative govern ment, who would wilhugly aid in arty demonstration against it. With such aid, and indefatigable efforts to collect a crowd of noisy non-electors: with a judicious choice of localities. and proruse bribery of the local radical newspape,s, in order to procure copious accouots of thei proceedings—they commenced their " grto.d series of country triumphs 1" Their own or,ons. r..rin time to time, gave out that. in each and every county visited by the League, the farmers attended their meetings, and joined in a vote condemnatory of the corn-laws, ano pledged themselves to vote thereafter for none but •he candidates of the Anti-corn-law League ! The followin are specimens of the flittering appellations which had til now ' een bestowed, upon their new friends, upon the, selfsame farmers :—" Bull-frogs 1" " chew-bacons I' " clodpnles I" " hair-bucks!" " deluded slaves I" " bru drudges !" Now, however, they and their labourers wer , ,addressed in terms of respectful sympathy and flattery, a., the victims of the rapacity of the landlords—on whom were poured the full phials of anti-corn-law wrath. Th, following are some of the scalding drops let fall upon thei devoted heads :—" Monster of impiety !" " inhuma fiend !" " heartless brutes !" " rapacious harpies !" " re lentless demons!" "plunderers of the people !" " mer ciless footpads!" " murderers!" "swindlers!" "hiss tiable !" " insolent !" "flesh-mongering!" " scoundrel!' " law-making landlords !" " a bread-taxing oligarchy !" Need we say that the authors of these very choice an , elegant expressions were treated with utter contempt t. both landlords and tenants—always making the few allow ances above referred to ? Was it very likely that 11. landlord or the farmer should quit their honourable an important avocations at the bidding of such creatures t had thus intrtried themselves into their counties ? shoot. consent to be yoked to the car, or to follow in the train these enlightened, disinterested, and philanthropic cotto spinners and calico-printers ? Absurd ! It became, fact, daily more obvious to even the most unrefl-ctin t that these worthies were not likely to he httaged in the " labours of love ;" were not exactly the kind of permit, to desert their own businesses, to attend out of pure b neyolence that of others—to let succumb their own terests to promote those of others ; to subscribe out 'he gains which they had wrung from their unhappy far tory slaves their £lO. £2O, £3l). £5O, out of mere pubr ,pit it and philanthropy —" Positiortand Prospects of IL Government," in Blackwood's Magazine. It is go •d to he children sometimes, and cever bet 'lmo at Christmas, when its Mighty Founder was a chi: ~onselt.—Diekens SHOPS A AT CHRISTMS. Fruitere were radient in their glory. There were g re:it, round, Po elb , d baskets of chestitu s, s haped like tie waiste,ats jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors. anti tumid , out into'the street in their Apoplectic opulence. ORIGIN OF FRASER'S MAGAZINE.—In 1830, Fraser's Magazine was established; and with the foundation and chief management of that brilliant periodical, Maginn was most intimately connected. Some disagreement with Blackwood, we believe, led to the birth of this new and powerful rival, which soon attained a circulation the most extensive and respectable of any of the London-published periodicals. The first three or four numbers were almost entirely written by the doctor and his friend Mr. Hugh Fraser, one of those clever, well-bred men of wit and honour about town, whom London produces in greater perfection and greater numbers than-any other metropolis in the world. The articles being completed, they both sallied forth with the manuscript in their pockets, and proceeded dow❑ Regent-street, in search of a publisher. Passing No. 115, the doctor said, " Fraser! here is a namesake of yours—let us try him." They entered the shop—some bright star of fortune that presided over Mr. James Fraser, then conducting them. The terms were arranged, and thus was laid the basis of Fraser's Maga zine. Many persons thought it was so called after the publisher. This was a mistake. Mr. James Fraser, so far from taking pride in the journal which bore his name, never permitted any one in his establishment to call it Fraser's Magazine. In his books and correspondence, which we have seen, we find it always called " The Town and Country," and it was after Mr. Hugh Fraser the magazine was designated by the title by which it is known. —Dublin Magazine. THE QUEEN'S RESPECT FOR THE SUNDAY.—Although not connected with this portion of her majesty's life, there is another incident which proves the high moral and religious influences exercised over the mind and heart of the Princess Victoria during her earlier years, and which now lead her to conduct herself in every way worthy of her rank and elevation. The fact I am about to record demonstrates the devout respect she was always taught to feel for the sacredness of the Christian Sabbath. Indeed, her religious education was invariably made a matter of the deepest and primary importance, and the lessons w is e fan a t r o e ry no r w es c u o lt n s si i d n er a i f n te g t , days. iaavvresen. broughta t T i t i h e e incident p to e r r t io h d t othote. whmost iff s : a t refer is the following ;—A certain noble lord arrived at Windsor one Saturday night at a late hour. On being introduced to the Queen, he said, " I have brought down for your majesty's inspec tion some documents of great importance, but as I shall be obliged to trouble you to examine them in detail, I will not encroach on the time of your majesty to-night, but will request your attention to-morrow morning." " To morrow" morning!" repeated the Queen, " to-morrow is Sunday, my lord." " True, your majesty, but business of the state will not admit of delay." " I am aware of that," replied the Queen ; and as, of course, your lord ship could not have arrived earlier at the palace to-night, I will, if those papers are of such pressing importance, at tend to their contents after church to-morrow morning." So to church went the Queen and the court, and to church went the noble lord, when, much tc his surprise, the sub ject of the discourse was on the duties of the Christian Sabbath. " How did your lordship like the sermon ?" asked the Queen. " Very much, indeed, your majesty," replied the nobleman. ." Well, then," retorted her ma jesty, " 1 will not conceal from you that, last night, I sent the clergyman the text from which he preached. 1 hope we shall all be improved by the sermon." The Sunday passed without a single word being said relative to the pa pers; and, at night, when her majesty was about to with draw, "To-morrow morning, toy lord, at any hour you please," said the Queen, turning to the nobleman,—" as early as seven, my lord, if you like, we will look into the papers. The nobleman said, "That he could not think of intruding on her majesty at so early an hour ' • he thought nine o'clock would tie quite soon enough. "No —no, toy lord," replied the Queen, " as the papers are of import ance, I wish then) to be attended to very early. However, if you wish it to be nine ' be it so ;" and, accordingly, the next. morning at nine, her majesty was seated, ready to receive the nobleman and his papers.—Fraser's ffagazine. IN yearsic:sßtTin time y N e. A. —t T oC E raen E pa x titr . e x ac c l T l. A nt T is,ee t r o ve N ay s tiills F e ß rs e O bs zd euletxi T ipi expected frothg te d P i n E a s T T E W E N N O T years' gross mismanagement of the national affairs by their predecessors ? " The evil that they did, laves after them." But for the fortunate strength of the Conserva tive party, moreover, in opposition, and the patriotism and wisdom of the House of Lords, the late ministers would, by the time of their expulsion front office, have rendered the condition of the country utterly desperate—tor very nearly desperate it assuredly was. Their vacillating, in consistent, wild, and extravagant conduct during these ten years, had generated an universal sense of insecurity and want of confidence among all the great interests of the country, which locked up capital—palsied enterprise. Trade and commerce drooped daily, and the revenue melted sway rapidly every year. Great things were justly xpected from the practical skill and experience possessed ny the new government ; but time is requisite for the de .elopment of a policy which had, and still has, to contend igainst such numerous and formidable obstacles. Confi dence, especially mercantile confidence, is a delicate flower, of slow growth, and very difficult to rear. A b, eatl; may blight it. It will bloom only in a tranquil and temperate air. If ever there was a man entitled to speak, trowever, with authority upon this subject, it was Mr. Ba ring, the late candidate, and unquestionably the future ,neinber, for the city of London—a man constantly en gaged in vast mercantile transactions in all parts of the -lobe, and whose ability equals his experience. In the presence of a great number of gentlemen, representing two-thirds of the wealth and intelligence of the city of London, thii spoke Mr. Baring, on the Citii October, 1843 :—" I rejoice that Sir Robert Peel did not hold out .o the country the fallacious hope, that, oy any particular measure. he could restore prosperity, or cute sufferings which were beyond the reach of legislation, and that he patiently relied upon the resources and energies of the country to set trade and commerce right. That expecta tion is already beginning to be realized. That calm re liance is already justified. lam speaking in the presence of those who are as much as, it nol - iiiore conversant with business than myself, and they will contradict me if I am not riglit when I say, that great symptoms of improvement in the trade and industry of the country have manifested themselves; which symptoms are of such a nature, that they do not appear to be the result of momentary exci,e went produced by some fallacious experiment, but of the uaramouet re establishment of ,commerce, and of a fresh era in the prosperity of the empire. I am asked what have the government done ? Why, they have restored CONFIDENCE to the country ! They have terminated wars, they have restored confidence at home. and com manded respect abroad."—'-" Position and Prospects of the Gorernment," in Blackwood's Magazine. A BALL ON CHRISTMAS EVE.—Old Fezziwig laid down his pet', and looked up at the clock, which pointed at the hour of s i,t e iep, e z n zirei . iwkcih.g H ,. e rubbed his hands, adjusted his c,ihir,aecaiotuos his organ 011 a benevolence;u g f C h at e h: d .ri jNsaotirolniaaoismv,evoarorEciei voice —wcnaeso,lezr,i called Yo f o r u o t m in hi a s cci;nahnytisLoi Christmas a a b ss l a e ie , d, o e ° l t o h - o n L i e g t t l o i t t y a have the shutters up," cried old Fezziwig, with a sharp clap of his hands, " before a man can say Ja c k Robin son." You wouldn't believe how these two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters— one, two, three—had 'em up in their places—four, five, six—bart e I 'em and pinned 'em—seven, eight, nine—and Caine back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses. " Hilli-ho ! " cried old Fezttiwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. " Clear away, my lads, and let 's have lots of room here ! ti ho, Dick I Chirrup, Ebenezer 1" Clear away ! Flirie is nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or noultla't have cleared away. with old Fezziwig looking on. It was dine in a rui'.ute. Every moveable was packt d off as if it were dismissed from public life for evermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed. fuel was heaped upon the fire ; and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and dry, and bright a ball-room as you would desire to see upon a winter's night. In came a fiddler with a music-book. and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fitty stomach aches. In came Mrs. Frzziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and loveable. In came the six young tollowers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men arid women em ployed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin, the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's particular friend, the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not having board ••nough from his roaster; trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door hut one, who was proved to have cad h er ea rs pulled by her Mistress. In they all came, afterthe sm" sly, some boldly, some grace v, some awkwardly, another; some pushing, some pulling; in iiey all came. anyhow and everyhow. Away they all ...ant, twenty couple ~t once, hands half round and hark again the other way ; down the middle and up again ; round and round in various statics of affectionate group. ng ; old top couple always turning up in the wrong place ; iew top couple starting off again as soon as they got here; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to , . lelp them. When this result was brought about, old 7 ezziwig, clapping his hands to situp the dance, cried out, • Well done 1" and the fiddler plunged his hot face into trot of porter, especiatty provided for that purpose. But :tuning rest upon his re-appearance, he instantly began _lain, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other iddler had been carried home exhausted, on a shutter, ild he were a bran-nest man resolved to beat him out of ight, or perish. There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and here was negus, aA there was a great piece of cold roast. ad there was a great piece of cold boiled, and there were since-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great effect of le evening came after the roast and boiled, when the ddler (an artful dog, mind t The sort of man who knew is business better than you or I could have told it him!) truck up " Sir Roger de Coverley." Then old Fezziwig nod out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; ith a good stiff piece of work cut out for them ; ihr , e or our and twenty pair of partners; people who were not to , e trifled with ; people who would dance, and had no no on of walking. But if they had been twice as and courtesy ; n'i a n tC 7 :l- ; 1 .), four times ; old Fezziwig would l ' av 'i bee o n h a er n , she i e moons. y,, ; lie appeared , r is them, worth a y n t d o so be his would pa partner in Fezziwig. o:: : : : do l t I: 11 e u term.se i t . 're i , ezziwitt's Calves. het k * .uldn't have predicted, at whenany,. what would g o ' ld Fezzi 1 ipeovs that's it shonei positive e n loi light nh te high v every rpyr appearedapi part ret, to te f l i l issue s m i h nue: every dt ia. from i n t. ee l I ne e t i ili e . , come of 'em next. And _ wig and Mrs. 1 through the dance • ;idy ll , 81 1 •ur partner how : ' ee and Y' „ Isere ... ; thread-the. 7,, needle,ai d back agai n 1 , your • k with his l ee s , awl came upon his feet • , win4.9itn with ,t a sinegei. When Ihe click struck elev en, ;ace , z i z re i w : ibgF, bold hands had c i, atodn.se e , t s odeftly, that estic ball broke up. Mr - cvatid Mrs. wig took their Atiung. one on either side the door, and shaking hands it) every pursuit individnaiy as h e l or she writ out, ished him or in !. a merry Christmas. When ad retired but the two , pr,fitir . When everybody em ; and thus the cheeiful 1 :8, they did tie same to voices died away, and the is were left to their lied the back 'shop —if • i s , ; which mere under a counter ckens 8 Christmas amok' ' Fegz; . this do- Jan. 9, ig44. LONG HOURS IN MILLINERY ESTAB LISHMENTS. The damp hair and pallid features of our young ners and dressmakers might have told us long ago—et least, during the season of long and almost sleepiest hours—that they were taxed beyond their strength and we were often very sorr y, very sorry i n d ee d , f or them• We said they sat up too late, and perhaps rose too early. We observed to "Madame," with overflowing huineu" ity, that the work-room (we peeped into it through the glass doors) seemed ill ventilated ; and we frequently' perhaps inquired after one "young person" or another, whose grace and loveliness had created an interest in her favour. We heard she was gone home, or gone to the country. She was, however, forgotten after one or two more visits to the beautiful " show-rooms ;" for other girls, as gentle and as pleasing, and more fresh, had taken the places of our favourites, and so we came away, only insisting that our order, given on Tuesday afternoon) should be completed by Wednesday evening. " Madame shrugged and remonstrated a little—just a very little. She said they were very busy—had never been so bug' —were up all night, and had been so for the last silr weeks—that "everybody" wanted their dresses in such haste; and if "every body" wanted their dresses in such haste, why should not we have our or der executed to the time ? We repeated our instructions in a tone which convinced " Madame" that if she failed she might lose our custcm ; and, of course, that being the alternative, she had only to curtsey and promise. The consequence of this want of consideration was another sleepless night to the worn-out girls with whom we had sympathised; and yet, if this truth did occur to us, we consoled our selves with the idea " that our dress, our single dress, could not make much difference." We could have ordered it two or three days before, but the weather w as too hot or too cold to get out, or we were detained hi visitors—or —or, at all events, whether we ordered the dress or not could m ake but little difference ; and dress makers are so unpunctual that we were obliged to sal we wanted it a day sooner than we really did. Hoc very, very angry we would be if told that, in saying we required it one day, when really we did not want it till another, we had been guilty of falsehood! And how our hearts would have rebelled if accused of cruelty. If aril one had told us that we were guilty of cruelty towards those young girls whom we would have drawn wide our purse-strings to assist, whom we would have given to eat of our bread and drink of our cup—it it had been told 10 that so doing would serve them, how indignant w• s h o uld have felt ! though perhaps at the same moment the brocade was trembling in their damp and slender fingersr and they could hardly open their wearied and aching eyes ; and, but for the haste our thoughtlessness had ia sisted on, they would have enjoyed a few hours of the refeshing sleep which, if we lack but for a single night, our temples throb and our pulses quicken, and we cora pain of the long midnight hours, lacking rest.* Our thoughtlessness (to call it by no harsher name) occa soned a practical cruelty to a fellow -creature. We did not intend this ; but we cause a great deal which w e do not intend. A little consideration will prove that w e a re great gainers by looking things steadily in the face--• looking beyond the present into the future, which (se rapid is the flight of time) becomes the present while We are talking. The poor dressmakers have, however, found many to advocate their cause, but the grand re dresser of evils is the public. The modiste of established reputation will always find young persons, driven by necessity to the sacrifice, to work during the long hours, to the destruction of health, both of body and mind, if. ladies do not give sufficient time for the completion of their orders. This is the great point; and it is mar vellous, when come fo be seriously thought upon, that simpleon female e want f consideration.—Mrs. o n si ng de r ethehealth ofanother by a a r ou.mr s. S. e. Sall, Ainsworth's Magazine. A NEW MODE OF DIVORCEMENT.—TWO country gen tlemen hit the other day upon an expedient for dissolving the Gordian knot, which we believe proved satisfactory to all parties, but whether it was an original idea, or has been imported from the land of Brother Jonathan, we know not. Certainly it is knew to us, and will probably' be so to our readers. A couple rendered miserable by' their domestic jars applied to the two gentlemen in ques tion to be " parted." After anxiously endeavouring to remove the acids and restore the sweets between them, and, after explaining that death only could part them, the worthy gentleman put the anxious pair to this ordeal. A cat was procured, and a cord tied round its neck with a noose. The hu,band was desired to hold one end of the cord and the wife the other, and both to pull with their might if they still wished to be put asunder, either party being, however, at liberty to relent by refraining to pull. However, their presen. resolution proved stronger than the remembrance of their former love, and both pulled away until poor pus , was strangled, and " death " having thus " parted them," they were declared man and wit . * no longer, and went their way rejoicing. We fear we should overwhelm the gentlemen who presided over this ordeal with business if we were to give a particular indica tion of their whereabouts : we deem it only necessary to say, that the circumstances we have narrated occurred in the county of Lancashire.—Bla kburn Standard. DEATH OF A VENERABLE CHARACTER.—Died on Saturday night, the 31st ult., at an advanced age, an extraordinary and venerable character,—altho' severely visited on her first attack with cold, she expired as peace fully and mildly as a lamb. She had certainly for some time been diseased, and a variety of bymetons had be trayed a constitution fast bra g kin up. Once came the - Scotch - fiddle; tit d this was followed by an inflamation that seemed to spring from her Welsh flannel petticoat, and her illness was much aggravated by repeatedly dining off Irish stew, a dish strongly recommended to her by a physician who had too much of her confidence, one Dr. O'Connell, and by whose advice she strongly and foolishlY recommended it to her youthful successor.—On the whole, however, she rallied frequently during her life to a degree that seemed impossible. She was capriciousin Ecclesias tical matters: for altho' fond of Church, she threw her self into a fever more than once, upon smaller matters that must have been nuts to dissenters ; such as black gown and white gown, crossing or no crossing, standing up and bowing down : and took delight in setting big Whigs and Bishops by the ears. She had, however, al good memory and some understanding, and recollecting somewhat of the fires of Smittifi 'ld (by the way she was rather fond of incendiat ism herself) and the virtuous and respectable Queen Mary ; long before she died, sent Popery and his first cousin to the right about, the latter of whom was very anxious to gain her hand. Peace to her Manes ! in the the spring of her youth she was lively', joyous, and free; in her summer, cheerful and liberal; in her autumn, sober and serene; and even the white locks of her wintry age were more like silver than snow. Be her pleasantries and worth long remembered, her sins and her sorrows forgot ; and may no worse at least be said of her posterity than of her dear old sepulchral ac quaintance, dear, long, accustomed, ancient friend, eighteen hundred and forty three.—Philo.—Jon. 1, 1844. THE OLD MAN AND HIS Ass.—An old man named Edward Birkett, residing in Skerton, Lancaster, where he carries on an extensive trade in the crockery and mussel ling line, appeared lately at the judges' lodging to answer to a charge preferred against him of having broken into the pound at Skerton, and released his ass, where his Neddyship had been lodged for having been found tres passing keeper er where of t he e had pound, n proved right the 0 ffe c e . Jamese , and showed Lancaster, the that, by a recent act of parliament, the defendant had subjected himself to a penalty not exceeding £5. On the defendant, who, it is said, in early life belonged to a com pany of strolling players, being called upon for his defence , he threw himself into a theatrical attitude, and delivered himself after the following manner : " My lords, mine ass is that by which I live. Take him away, and shut him in a pound, Robs me of many pounds. 'Tis throug'il his aid, That, from the tide-left sand and pebbly skeir, I loads of cockles and of mussels take ; Whereby I to my neighbours do supply A dainty feast—and that at small expense; And, in return, I with their trifling coin Do buy th it which cloth feed my inward man. Mine asv. my lords, is thus part of myself— If Ito him illegal freedom gave, I pray your mercy and your quittance clear— For I am old, and miserably poor— And then, nay lords, whene'er mine ass I drive, You will be present to my grateful mind." Notwithstanding this powerful and very affectingly-deli yard appeal, the defendant was fined 10s. and costs, or, in default, sentenced to be imprisoned and kept to hard labour for one calendar month— T s o e n t o shillin i gs t l h — e t c e o tt farthings o o h k e them a could t not pay, And when going, he said, " H ard is the lacking of pelf, For ten-pounding my ass, I've ins-pnunded myself. " DEATH OF A ONCE CELEBRATED CHARACTER."' An individual died in Edinburgh a short time since, why obtained an unenviable celebrity more than twenty years ago. This was the Bishop of ,Clogber, who was indicted for crime, in 1822, forfeited hail, and fled, was degraded of havingri'lo a s previously Wilson W ilson from his ecclesiastical dignity, and has never been heard of till now. He kept house at No. 4, Salisbury-placet to re w si h d i e c d h he viduals in the scarcely any visitors being known to enter his dwelling. but it was remarked that the post oecasionly brought him letters sealed with coronets. His inco g ni to was wonder fully .dfratiutriils. m e T a o r hd s ee ago ,apopf living gn fully preserved. It was only known to one or two indi• under the assumed name neighbourhood, who kept the secret till in the name of Thomas Wilson. There was a plate °VI% the coffin was f or in ter ment e xtr emely w was private, m ado which•he had got prepared a number of year , before, but without. any name upon it. It bore a Latin inscription, the sense of which was as follows:—" Here lie the remains of a great sinner, saved by grace, whose hope rests in the atoning sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Cnrist." The preparation of this inscription years before shows that he was deeply penitent. He was very anxious to conceal his true name, having got it carefully obliter' and from his books and articles of furniture. He gage instructions that his burial should be in the nearest churl yard, that it should be co.‘ducted in the most private ao plain manner, and at six in the morning. His direction s were complied with except in the selection of the ground' His body was drawn to the cemetery in a hearse with one horse, followed by five mourners in a one-horse coach, e t seven in the morning. Such was the obscure and humble death and funeral of the Honourable and Reverend Perct Jocely it, the son of a Peer, who spent the early years 01 his lite in the society of the great, and held one of th e highest ecclesiastical dignities in the empire. He 1 18* uncle to the present Lord Roden.—Scotsman, Jan. ......._ IW ANCIIRSI and most pe and in our oi Tuesday we and at highe suppose the the unexpecl business has sincerely ho encourage t Liverpool, bi that some ca a considerab Was rarely Ploy. to pay preparations not go too hi May fairly ar Many buyers bonding stocl they are unE come down prices." 27 and 72's. 6s. and 72's. fis . 66 's , Ss• 9d. 1 LEEDS.-1 turday, the 1 but on Tnesi billy in the the warehou to both tner, their stocks. BRADFORI Merchants e nnfavourabl, Was done in the manufac the late adva of profit if t' It Rawl on tl hand genera realising bet then improve pensive of a they refused dates. Agc but althougt at fly for hig hied. HUDDIC its tendance of previous we freely at pr out for impr So much bus been the cas in the'faucy HALIFAX attendance at this mark Were very s to be only Sr are now cc ago. REQUITE a tolerable foreign tra c On Thursdi extreme. ROCHDAL ket to.day, I acted has bt Hosinair state, that branch, and two years, t Of a revival trade still si than the am four-fifths hose branch in the -main the wrougl Pretty well i tions which Journal. LIVER In-patients Relieved au Made Out-I Irregular Dead Consul Hou PREM L ONDON Jamaica... Leeward I Honduras Havana„ New York, Charleston New Orlee Canada . British I, Tri Newfouna Brazils .. River Plat East Indie China .... Batavia .. New Soutl Cape of Gri Africa.... Gibraltar Lima, Val Malta, Sic Smyrna ai Malaga .. Madeira.. Western I Lisbon .Cadiz . Prance . Holland.. Hamburg Gottenbu Petersbur °Porto B9lton an iri n i ngN u . 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