The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-01-30 00:00:00

Literature. JANUARY. (For the Liverpool Standard.) By the author of " Rural Sonnets," " spartacus, the Roma n Gladiator," and ot her tragedies. Hardy as yon fresh bays upon his brow. Witt, full-blown tanrustinits interweav'd, Ere yet the husbaridmen resume the plough, Or festive days by labour are retriev'd— Lo, JANUARY leads the youl.g new year, appy in welcolles, and with h we elate, Though round its form cold winds and clouds career, 4nd barren would appear its first est te. Now—if the weather freeze, or hind the pound— Manures are carted, and the routes repair'd : In forest haunts the wood. .en's strokes res.,und : For earliest produce gard-ns are prepar'd : And, here and there, just peep above the soil, Signs of the life wherewith vast nature's womb doth toil. Inner Temple, Jan. 20, 1844. J. JONES. SCENA, SUNG BY MISS WHITNALL AT MISS C. WELLER ' S FIRST CONCERT. (The words and music by Miss Christiana Weller.) Ozema.—Bright visions of the past all fled ! Gay dreams of youth all swept away; Hopes once so cherished now are dead, And sleep unheeded in my lay. The heart is chilled that warmly beat, That glow'd with life's delusive joys Fond memory only holds her seat, Unharmed 'mid all proud time destroys. My mind is one ur.varied blank; My life is one unbroken sigt ; I n.ourn my weary stay on earth, And gladly would, this moment, die. None soothe with balmy words my pain; None dry the tears that ceaseless flow, Nor with sweet tunes bid me restrain Their Bushings from the founts of woe. When o'er my soul sleep gently steals. And thought, unshackled. wanders free, A fleeting bliss my spirit feels, But wakes to mourn reality. Those hours are happy, but how few , Delusion is my only stay; Kind heaven give my despair her due, And angels waft my soul away. CARDINAL DE RETZ, on THE COURTIER'S PLO BY PETER POPJOY, ESQ. (For the Liverpool Standard.) CHAPIER, Xl.—(Continued.) (We left Fabien about to reply to the Queen.) The most profound silence reigned at that moment in the lofty chamber. " Madame," said Fabien, in a respectful but firm tone, " I must supplicate your pardon if I take more than common precaution against any mistake on this occasion; and that your grace will permit me to inquire if it is really the great Conde, the first prince of the blood, who is thus designated as " an enemy to the state ?" A low murmur ran through the assembly. The Queen blushed deeply. " And why not, Sir," said she, with vehemence, "if he, whom you, on your part, term the Great Conde,' is insolent and factious, a man whose ambition would lead him to betray France and the King. Why put such a question—can I have been deceived ? Will you refuse to obey Your sovereign ? The Regent stamped her foot with passion. The con spirators appeared confounded. Fabien alone stood un moved. `: Most gracious liege"--replied Fabien, with an ani mated voice and manner —" Do I really see your grace —do I hear the grand-daughter of Charles the Fifth ? Where are we ? Ought we to enter the palace of the Queen of France, furtively, stealthily, in the dead of night, gliding in obscurity like bad men, intent upon some wicked purpose ? Where is the majesty of the throne ? where the Queen ? I see no one here but a mere woman, who hiding herself amongst midnight conspira tors, is about to employ an assassin." The boldness of these words struck the courtiers dumb —they appeared in a complete stupor : not one dared to open his mouth to check the imprudent enthusiast. "Audacious !" exclaimed Anne of Austria, instantly rising from her seat, every bad passion now aroused. " Is there not o: - .e present to silence this daring knave." The courtiers stood aloof like statues. Fabien fell on his knee, catching the hem of the Regent's robe —• " Hear me ! oh, hear me, noble mistress, but for one moment," continued the youth, with enthusiasm ; " listen to me--but an instant : I know that I am a lost man ; I know that the dungeons of the Chatelet or the Bastille are ready to receive me ; I know that I have sacrificed myself that you might hear the truth that otherwise would be hidden from you ! The frightful step that you, ma dame, have been advised by bad men to take, will not save the state. No, gracious lady, though they may tell you so—the blood of the bravest defender must not be thus ignobly and traitorously shed by an obscure hand, in ambuscade. Let the scales fall from your eyes, noble lady ; think of your illustrious ancestors, think of the sa credness of the power you hold from God !" Anne of Austria laughed convulsively. " And who has brought before us this contemptible preacher," said she, in a tone of bitter irony. " Who has dared to introduce to us this presumptuous moralist ? Is this a new insult devised by my enem.es ? Sirs," said she, apparently suffocated with passion, " he who has prepared this for us shall bitterly repent it." At the next moment a nobler impulse suddenly arising in her mind, with that buoyancy so prevalent in capricious tempers, she quickly added, turning to Fabien— " So, then, you believe yourself to be here amongst an assembly of conspirators, who meditate a bad action. Be it so ; but do you know where this convocation of con spirators is held ? Do you know in what place you are at this moment ? You are in my oratory in the Cardi nal's palace. You know me not ? Look at me well : I am the Queen Regent. Look at these gentlemen, also : this is Monsieur de Tellier, this De Servien, and De Lionne—ministers and sub-secretaries of state ; this is M. de Chateaunea, the keeper of the seals ; this the Ma rechale d'Hocquincourt, general-in-chief of the King's armies : the whole of the council of the Regency you see before you—these are the most strenuous de fenders, the most zealous supporters of my son Louis. Look at us all, sir. Little does it matter to us whether you believe or not that the royal power is fallen so low, that the Regent and her ministers are reduced to conspire in the dark, like discontented citizens, and that they are reduced to supplicate a poor country gentleman like yourself to save the state by a blow of a poignard." The Queen, unable any longer to moderate the vio• lence of her feelings, sunk on the seat nearest to her, and covered her face with her hands, to hide the scalding tears that fell abundantly down her cheeks. These emotions were not unfelt by those who stood around : the courtiers were not rendered so completely callous by po litical intrigue, as to be altogether devoid of generous thoughts, and they could not but experience some touches of pity for all the evils with which France was over whelmed. The Baron profited by the moment of confu sion to draw near his brother, and whisper to him— " Unhappy boy—retract or, " but Fabien, com pletely pre-occupied by his generous design, heard him not ; he remained prostrated at the feet of the Queen, and exclaimed, in an agony of heart, clasping his hands together, " Oh, Madame, in the name of God, do not overwhelm me with your anger and contempt. I have not yielded to a vain and ridiculous temerity in thus telling you a cruel truth. I have fulfilled my duty at the peril of drawing upon myself your anger—a duty, Madame, that I regarded as sacred. I am but one of the most obscure, the humblest of your subjects—like others, I owe you profound respect, devoted duty, and ardent love. I will do your bidding without a murmur, at the very cost of my life, but God forbid, Madame, that I should sacrifice my honour and my conscience in any cause." Anne of Austria appeared at length to have conquered the tenderness that had awakened in her breast the most painful recollections. She raised her head, and replied with a haughty air, " Whoa think you, Sirs, of the insolence of this young preacher P If he has done nought but wound the heart of a queen and mother in recalling to her in what a state of abasement she had allowed the power of her son to fall, she cannot forget that he has also expressed himself in a manner that ought not to be permitted in an august presence—but be possesses your secret and mine— nothing remains for me but to dispose of him." Fabien rose, and waited his doom with calmness and dignity. Those around regarded him in silence, as if to communicate to him their defiance; but no one offered any advice, when the Countess de Montglat, who, du ring the scene, had suffered the utmost agony of mind, advanced into the midst of the circle formed around the Queen, and exclaimed with despair, " Oh, Madame, did I not tell your majesty that he could not accept this office. But have pity on him— pardon him my liege—he is faithful, loyal, and generous —he will not betray your secret." " Are you about to resume your weepings and wail ings, De Montglat," interrupted the Queen, somewhat softened. " But I am tired of all this intriguing, and it was only at your earnest supplication that I consented to your coming with me. You must he aware, added the Re gent coldly, to yield to your entreaty—this folly—for folly it is—that it is necessary these gentlemen and myself must consent to forego measures that concern our safety, as well as that of the state. You will see also if they will permit your gallant Norman to boast in all the taverns in Paris of the fine things he has just told me to my face —in the face of the Queen of France." This ungracious reply did not however restrain the generous ardour of the maiden. " May Heaven save the state, and grant your majesty a long and happy life, but humbly do I supplicate per mission to prove to you that it is not necessary to drag this unhappy gentleman to a state prison to be satisfied of his discretion. He is a man of honour, and his word may be trusted ; I know him to be noble, discreet, and generous. I will be a willing hostage for his truth and fidelity." seeing that the courtiers who stood around appeared surprised at her warmth and earnestness, " Sirs," she continued, burstity , into tears, "lit w„s who first drag ged him to the edge of this precipice. •I it was who in duced him to leave his peaceful country home, where happy and calm, life passed away without a knowledge of courtly intri,!ues—and oh ! of crimes—and if I love him —I love him with all my heart—hut I, too, have been deceived—betrayed—entrapped." Sabo stayed her fur ther utterance. The Queen replied coldly, and with that apparent callousness she sometimes could assume. Truly, gentlemen, I am sorry to find that we who are assembled here on the subject of an enterprise that affects a kingdom's welfare, should now only find our time occupied by an affair of the heart of one of my maids of honour, and her Normandy beau! believe me, nevertheless, this exhibition of man's scruples and wo man's love is not more diverting to me than it must prove to you." Several voices now were raised to tender advice, but the Baron de C ro i ss i —hi s f ace li v id—hi s e y e s glistening with anger, approach e d th e Q ueen , an d said in a tone of ill-disguised passion,— " I beseech your majesty to believe that I have been deceived by the pretended simplicity of this young man. He has unworthily abused my trust, and has departed from all his most solemn promises. But let not your majesty despair of the project which your most faithful servants have conceived. I will not fail to find before this time to-morrow a gentleman who will accomplish it without conditions, or any difficulties being cast in the way. For the present, I shall not seek to avert the just vengeance that your majesty will not fail to visit on him who has betrayed us." " I—l take revenge upon this unhappy youth," said the Queen, with disdam ; " Sir, my vengeance does not descend so low. Let these gentlemen decide his lot :to them do I abandon him." " Madame," exclaimed D'Hocquincourt, with ear nestness, " I knew not this young man until yesterday : to-day I have seen him for the second time. I avow to your grace that h e h as a cted and spoken in a manner which, in a person of importance, would amount to high treason ; hut this headstrong youth is guilty only of folly and ignorance. If th en your majesty will take into con sideration any loyal and good services I may have ren dered my country, I implore your majesty not to permit him to be too heavily punished for his boldr)ess. lam his debtor, and his language appears to me to be inspired by a feeling of generosity that, though I cannot but admire it, I still must in this case look upon it as absurd and unbe coming. in one word, madame, I think it will be quite sufficient to exact from him a promise to reveal nothing that he knows in this affair; and if it should be considered necessary to place any one to watch over him, to secure his silence, I will not hesitate to pledge myself to under take the charge, and hold myself responsible for his ap pearance before your majesty and these noble gentlemen present." " Thanks, thanks, gallant D'Hocquincourt, mur mured Elizabeth. The younger De Croissi acknowledged by a sign his thanks, to his defender. The courtiers gathered in a group, and discussed, in low tones, the pro priety of adopting this course to guard against any in discretion on the part of Fabien. Some hinted that the walls of a state prison were more likely to secure them from an unguarded word than the interior of the Hotel D'Hocquincourt. Nevertheless, as few of them wished to embroil themselves with the Mar4chal, who seemed intent upon his propositirn being carried out, and as the Queen who had turned away her head with an affectation of indifference, appeared also to lean towards the side of clemency, they were about to decide that Fabien should be placed in charge of D'Hocquincourt, when the Baron de Croissi interrupted— " One moment, gentlemen,—but one moment," said he, with firmness, "by the royal clemency—a most un deserved favour—my brother has not been requited as his most audacious speech and conduct so well merit, but I will not forego to any man the right I have of dis posing of him, and I claim him, being his eldest rela tion and his natural protector. " All those ties that once bound me to you are now broken and for ever annihilated," cried Fabien, with an indignant air. " Every kindness you have done is effaced from this moment—you are no longer my brother—l know you not." "So now a family scene—for our edification—nothing like a change, gentlemen," said the Queen, with bitter irony." " Gentlemen," said Elizabeth, stepping forward and addressing herself to the courtiers, " do not deliver this young man into the hands of his brother, do not abandon him to a pittiless tyranny ; he has already shown that he wished to sacrifice him to Ifs ambition ; who knows what fate he may have in store for him for the future ?" " Gracious lady," she continued, turning towards the Queen, " remember that young De Croissi yesterday de voted himself bravely in your Majesty's cause. Pardon him, and my life upon it, you will' not have in all the kingdom a more faithful adherent." The Queen, in spite of the insensibility which she so delighted to assume in public, still possessed a good heart ; her anger, when roused, was blind, violent, and irresistible, hut it was never very lasting, and after the first burst always to be softened. The tears, the suppli ant tone of Elizabeth de Montglat—no slight favourite at all times—won upon her sensibility ; perhaps that very artless affection which Elizabeth exhibited towards Fa bien, and which she pretended to despise, recalled certain fond recollections of her own girlhood. Whatever might havO been the cause of this softening towards the culprit, she was about to pardon him when the pittiless Albert, in an instant, changed his intentions. " Madame," said he, pointing to the maiden with an air of contempt, " does your Majesty know well who it is that solicits such a favour as is just preferred, and who brands me with the names of infamy and of being a traitor ? Does your grace know all the mischief that this weak and trembling girl hath done, holding, as she does, a confidential situation near your Majesty?" " What have you to say of the Countess de Montglat," inquired the Regent, with astonishment and some show of displeasure. " Monsieur De Croissi !" cried Mdlle. de Montglat, dismayed, trembling, and turning pale with terror. " You have not kept your promise, therefore I will not keep mine," continued Albert ; "in place of inducing my brother to do his duty, you have pictured to him in odious colours a deed that would save the state. I will now let the Queen become acquainted with a secret which chance alone enabled me to discover, and which has placed you in my power. Know, then, Madame, that Madlle. de Montglat, the most favoured of all, and whom you have loaded with favours, day by day betrays your confi dence, and— " Peace be with you," exclaimed a deep toned and sonorous voice, which appeared to issue from the very midst of the assembly. (To be continued.) HINTS FOR HUNDREDS.—No. L (For the Liverpool Standard.) " Esti auton kinanto ? "—DIMOSTHISB9+ " ANY THING NEW?" A straw floating on the surface of the water, or a feather wafted in the air, things but trifling and insignificant in themselves, are yet sufficient to indicate the current of the mightiest river, or the direction of one of the most powerful and subtle elements of nature. This assertion you may admit to be true, but certainly not " any thing new." Yet the application which I wish to make of a circumstance, trivial in itself as either of the above illus— trations, and, from its every-day occurrence, unnoticed and not hitherto applied to the purpose I intend, will be deemed, I humbly opine, in your estimation, to be— " something new." But first let me premise, that as a stranger and visitor for a short time in your large and flourishing commercial city, the modern Venice or Tyre of ancient times, it has forcibly occurred to me, as a startling and puzzling paradox, (as I know it has- also done to others visiting you under similar circumstances,) that such a strange discrepancy should exist between the symmetrical proportions and uniformity of style,. propri ety and adaptation for the purposes intended, as are to be found in your public docks, causing them to be deservedly an object of great attraction and admiration, and the ab sence of all uniformity, and the studied irregularity and confusion of all styles of architecture hitherto.known and acknowledged as standards of art, and, until exhibited in your town, never deemed to have an existence in any imagination however glowing or fanciful, in any of the vagaries (and these have been numerous enough) which have been exhibited to the world by amateur or profes sional architects. In every modern square and street of your town, this is conspicuously visible*. But more: it is not that this discrepancy exists in the style of the build ings alone, but in the materials also of which they are composed. Look at a row of goodly houses : at its com mencement you will find two or three to be built of stone, then as many more to be lath and plastered buildings, i some having their front s p aint e d to mitate the stone, but those whose houses are immediately adjoining their stony neighbours will take care that there shall not be any pos sibility of mistaking their cement for the more durable material, and will have it painted a dead white colour; the next will have a shining quarantine-like front, glo w i ng with y e ll ow oc hre ; another " w ill choose to be considered as, " wh en l eas t adorned , to be " . adorned the rnost,r, and will e x hibit the cement in all its native purity, or impurity rat h er s h ow i n g cameleon-like green, yellow and black, accordingly as the atnaosphere,. smoke, and dirt have in turns done their respective duties; and then, as if to set at d e fi ance an d utterly to defeat any ideas that may have been entertained that uniformity may have been aimed at, a few bright red brick houses will succeed, some garnished and de cora t e d w ith stone cornices and mullions, so me merely with b r i c k l aug hi n g to scorn the attempts of passers-by to account fo; this strange medley ; then for fear lest, after all, this incongruity might, by a great stretch of the imagination, be mistaken for regularity and uniformity, and to r emove t h e mono tony of the prospect, which might otherwise be occasioned, y o u will find either in the centre of the row, or intervening somewhere before it terminates, a large uns i g h t l y hi a t us , left unoccupied , with a board nailed on a post, indicating that this forlorn and rejected piece of ground is " to be sold " or " to be let "—but not to be " let alone" (that is the b oa rd), for this serves as the rallying poi n t an d t arge t for the dirty, ragged lads in the ]neighbourhood to concentrate their force, and there. with yellings and hootings, to exercise their skill as tharksthen. iti shythg '' (as they trim tt) stones and missiles of all kinds, from broken bricks and dead dogs to glass bottles and defunct cats, at this primi tive bull's eye, much to the risk of damaging also the eyes of others, not ambitious to be so marked and distin guished by their notice ; this " desirable piece of ground" generally having also a pool of liquid, originally perhaps water, but so coloured and diverted by its ingredients, that it may be stale porter, with a goodly assortment of vegetable and animal matter boiled together, and, when reeking with a hot sun, cannot fail to be an agreeable addition to the odours, which are generally to be found, from the crowded courts and small houses which it ap pears always desirable to have attached to the back of your " better kind " of houses ; it is went also, as a receptacle for all the rubbish, the oyster-shells, and bro ken crockery of the neighbourhood, besides the filth and nuisances of occasional passers-by. Then to notice the variety of porticoes !—the interminable variety of all kinds of oak, ash, mahogany, and bird-eyed maple doors !—the various shades of green, black, and grey, with which the balconies and iron rails for the area are painted, with their sundry decorative styles of iron casting,—would be a task too arduous for me to undertake, and would require a skill and knowledge of the sciences and fine arts beyond what I can boast of possessing, and I must therefore give up the attempt severally to enumerate them. For all this confusion of order and regularity, I have often attempted to account, often strove to find some reason, why, among such an enlightened community as your Liverpool people profess to be, and undoubtedly are, having taken the lead, as you have done of late years, in applying all the great scientific discoveries to the prac tical uses of life—particularly that mighty power of steam, by which you have, as it were, annihilated time and space, and removed the various obstacles that previously existed to the rapid and easy communication between the different towns in your own country, bringing Manchester, Bir mingham, and London, within breakfast, luncheon, and dinner distances, and the United States as a" trip" merely across the water, and the East Indies as a pleasant " summer jaunt" ;—with all this manifest demonstration of intelligence, activity, and scientfic skill, I say I have often strove to find some reason, some cause, why such a miserable want of taste, such a misapplication of know ledge, should be found, in the improvement and adorn ment of the dwelling-houses of your town, the health and comfort of its inhabitants ; and it always appeared to me a most puzzling enigma. But I think I have read this riddle aright, by a little" straw," a " feather," constantly to be seen wafted in the air, or floating on the surface, of any portion of society, the " good society," that you may move in, and which indicate the " ruling passio n " which influences the thoughts, and directs the actions, of this portion of your community. And this I will proceed to demonstrate. A by-stander is often able to see more of a conflict, whether it consists of a battle with lads of fisty-cuffs, or a combat of boys of older growth, accompanied by all the " pomps and circumstances " of glorious war. This is true, for many reasons, which I need not detail ; take this as sufficient, and be quiet, for " I know it "; and as a bystander among you, I have had the means and oppor tunities of detecting and suffering also from the distin guishing characteristic of your townspeople. On my arrival from India, after an absence of many years, I took up my abode in my relatives' house, no matter where situated, sufficient that it was in one of the " best" streets and neighbourhood of the town, and was welcomed with a warmth and cordiality which they only can appreciate who for years have been absent from an English home, with all its comforts and enjoyments,_ not to be found in any other quarter of the globe. Uncle was here the " lion," or rather the great Bengal tiger of the day : every thing was ordered and regulated for " uncle's" convenience—his feeding times, his sleeping, his walking, his riding hours, were all studiously arranged for his convenience and "comfort ' (a truly English-home word)—his every wish anticipated, not only by an affec tionate brother and his amiable and exemplary lady, but by a tribe also of young namesakes, whom my bachelor habits, of many years' standing, had led me at fir s t t o regard with looks of dread, mixed up perhaps with a touch of the " fierce," in order to put them ou their guard, and to keep them at a respectful and respectable distance. But this restraint soon broke down, for the strength of childish affection few can long withstand ; and many days had not elapsed before I found many of my bachelot's prejudices had made themselves wings and flown away. My Indian establishment was revived : one urchin took charge of my hookah ; another of my hat and gloves ; a lovely, graceful maiden of my cloak and stick ; a curly_ headed, laughing Hebe roused me in the morning (a ticklish undertaking) ; whilst another monopolised the privilege of supplying my tea and coffee with the precise quantity of cream and sugar, which she alone knew to administer; whilst all their little hands vied to be em ployed in uncle's service, and seemed amply repaid with an approving smile, and rendered exuberantly happy with a yarn of a jungle hunt, a tiger fight, a sketch of uncle's palanquin, or his elephant and hookah. 1 wish I durst intrude further on your patience, by sketching more at large this " happy home," and pay a tribute of deserving respect, admiration, and gratitude to her, the presiding and tutelar genius of all this domestic bliss. I never knew until now the value and capability of female power ; of course I had seen and felt much of its influence during my rambling life, but little of its domestic worth; nor could I have deemed it possible that the matron I now saw was, ten years ago, the giddy, laughing, lining, ball frequenting, ever-dancing, never-tiring girl I then knew so well; but now comely, and better looking, in my esti mation, than even then—cheerful, active, kind, and inde fatigable. and as untiring in her exertions as before, but with different aims and in pursuit of better objects. The comfort and happiness of my brother (spoiled, I must admit, by her indulgence), and the religious and moral training and discipline of her children, seemed now to form her only delight, her most pleasing occupation ; and well did she appear to be repaid, in the dutiful and obe dient and affectionate demeanour or her young 001573 1 . who seemed to regard her every look, and whose punishment, when required, was felt severely in her frown, or word, of rebuke ; no other punishment was ever needed, none other ever permitted ;—their greatest reward her smile and kiss of approval. Her benevolence and kindness to all was only bounded and constrained by her pecuniary means, and so strongly was this characteristic exhibited in her. countenance, that she could never walk abroad without attracting (much to her astonishment) all the poor and needy who crossed her path, as I have often witnessed when accompanying her in her walks. Truly she has had, and I trust will continue to have, her reward; which so much worth and benevolence has justly entitled her to receive. But bow am Ito apologise for this long digression? I know not what to say r but must throw myself unreser vedly upon the kind indulgence and sympathy of your readers, who, I doubt not,. can readily enter into the feel ings of gratitude and affection, which have thus taken possession, vi et artnis, of my pen, and, though at their coat, have afforded an opportunity of giving vent to that which, when " cabin'd and confined" within my own bosom., seemed difficult and almost impossible to be si lenced and restrained. I promise, however, to go on, and sin no more. I remember well my first appearance in town, and the first indication I then received of your Liverpool " ruling. passion." Accompanying my brother to his office, on our drawing near to the Exchange, we soon began to fall in with his acquaintances,.and the ceremony of my intro duction to his numerous friends commenced and conti nued after the following manner, which take as a sample of the rest :—" Ha! Molasses,. how are you ? " and mo tioning with his band towards me, " My brother, from India." " Oh, indeed ! Any thing new, sir, in India ?" Now this. was a choker, and somewhat indefinite ;. and whilst I was ruminating what might be considered" new" to him—whether in Scinde, the Punjaub, Upper or Lower India—l could only smile and bow, by way of gaining • time ; but I. need not have troubled myself, for before 1 could have written.these few words, Molasses' attention, was withdrawn from myself, and, smiling at my brother,. demanded, " What's new with you, Cotton, this morn ing ? " To which my brother replied, " Have you any thing new " " I'm off to the docks," was the answer ;. and then, giving each other a poke with the thumb about the region of. the second button-hole, they laughed, winked at each other, and started off at different tangents. . " A funny fellow that Molasses is, isn't he ?" I. replied that I had had no opportunity of judging whether he was so or not. " Bless met , didn't I introduce you to him ?" " Oh, yes. you certainly did ; but " " Well, then, isn't he—Morgan, wAat have you new ? My brother, from " What is there new in your part of the world, sir ? " Again puzzled, and again beginning to cogitate for an answer, I was again relieved by an.addi don to the two of some other friends ; and, again intro duced, and the same inquiry again made. I could only listen to.the manner in which the salutations were given and the answers returned, and found, them to consist-- question and answer varying a little in the arrangement of their, words and emphasis, but all ringing the same tune—of " Any thing new ?" " What have you, new ?" " Have you any news ?" And thus was I handed round, and, bandied with the same nexer-varying inquiries. And often. have I since recalled to mind my first appearance on " 'Change " ; but it was-not until I bad made several visits there, that I began to notice this. universal style of address; and then I began to reflect, that, for my own credit, and in consideration of my brother's also, it be hoved me to be prepared with some of the " news " 9f the day, Taking my way to the newsroom, therefoie, in good time in the morning, by the most unfrequented streets, fearful lest I should be falling in with some of my friends before I was prepared, I soon dived into the contents of a goodly broadsheet, and, from amidst its va ried stores, began to lay in a " supply" likely to be com mensurate for the " demand." But here another diffi culty met me, which I had not reckoned upon. I Was at a loss to know what might be regarded as " news." by one, and " stale, flat, and unprofitable " by anothes; and this I soon found to my great annoyance :—e. g. " Well, captain, any news }this morning ? " " Yes !' Brimful with my morning cramming, now I thoughta good op. portunity for a fling off. " Yes!" I rep lied low ly, boldly, setting my legs apart, and thrusting a hand into each of my breeches.pockets, as I remarked was the standard fashion of the nobs of the flags. " Yes," I re plied ; " I see the funds"— " Funds ? ! " drawing his mouth into a small funnel-shaped projection, and turning a pivot on bis right heel, and describing, at a considerable elevation, a circle with the left. " Funds! My dear fell ow , l e t th ose b o ther their heads about the, who have go t any t hi ng to DO w ith the funds--I So you've nothing n the politics ! Who'd trouble new ? " When I tried the politic! of him self about the m 1" When the " fashion and table talk," " Oh, all humbug!" But still something, any thing "new " was required. Never was a poor fellow soyes tered and bothe re d. M osqu i toes un d er your curtain at night, hot water when cold was wanted, a tight uniform and heavy helmet under a hot grilling sun, are nuisances sufficient singly of themselves to disturb the equilibrium of any m an's temper; b u t th ese may b e en d u red, becausa you can obt a i n i ng ,lndulghope of at some Om', relief from your sufferings, a riddance from your an op nc But here I was bound and whipped with ne,tho, i our T, daily; and often have I been inclined to burst mit with a hearty anathema at the inquiry for " n-e-w-s," arid, by way of doing something " new," to " pick " a quarrel, in a proper way, with the anxious inquirer. But then, as I saw no offence was intended, and by following the latter expedient I might be making the bad worse, I deemed it prudent, like the man in the play, rather " to b ;or the ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of " ; and could only therefore answer, to such brusque replies, I know not what, accompanying my words with a grin, a laugh, or an hideous attempt for something to be mistaken for this kind of exercise of the muscular organs. Having come to the conclusion that discretion was to be preferred to valour, I deemed it the wisest and most prudent course to avoid the nuisance I could not otherwise overcome ; and such an impression had the " fretting " I had under gone made upon my nerves, that for weeks I ventured not into the town. I dreaded to meet any of my brother's friends; I shrunk from any thing new ; and had nearly committed an assault upon my tailor, from his inquiry if I could give him " any thing new" —as a hint in his line ! (To be concluded in our next.) SECOND EDITION. Standard-office, Half-past Eleven o'clock. THE STATE TRIALS• THIRTEENTH DAY, Monday, Jan. 29th. At the opening of the Court this day, after their Lord ships had taken their seats, Mr. John O'Connell, one of the traversers, rose and addressed the Court and Jury. Something, he said, had dropped from Mr. Shiel, in his speech on Saturday, which might convey the impression that he was disposed to accept an occasional or an annual visit of the Imperial Parliament to Dublin, as a satisfactory concession to the present agitation for repeal. He was not of such opinion. Whatever might be the consequences of the avowal, he would not allow it for a moment to be supposed that he gave up the inalienable right of his country to a free legislature. (Considerable sensation was excited by the above declaration.) Mr. Mom's, Q.C. then proceeded to address the court on behalf of the Rev. Thomas Tierney, and remarked at great length upon the alleged unanimous resolve of the Irish people in favour of repeal and the harshness with which the defendants had been pursued by the Attorney- General. Mr. Hatchell then rose and said, that be appeared as counsel for Mr. Ray. He admitted that Mr. Ray was a repealer, and the paid secretary of the association, but the jury were not to try him as such, but whet her or not he had in conjunction with the other trav-rsers entered into a preconcerted plot to excite discontent against the govern ment and constitution. The learned counsel proceeded to argue at some length against this allegation, and closed his address at two o'clock, when Mr. O'Connell, who had been present in the course of the morning at the Con ciliation Hall, had the Court adjourned until this (Tuesday) morning, assigning as a reason the illness of Mr. Fitzgibbon, of counsel for Mr. Tierney, and the hon and learned traverser forthwith transported himself to the scene of agitation. THE AMNESTY ADDRESS. The Lord Mayor has received a letter from Sir James Graham, acquainting him that the Queen will receive the celebrated Amnesty Address from the hands of his lord. ship on Friday next. In consequence of this intimation their honours held a meeting this day, at which, we un derstand, it was proposed by Alderman George Roe that the Lord Mayor should not wait upon her Majesty ; but that a letter should be written to the Home Secretary to request him to present the Address. This view was gene rally dissented from, and it was strongly put to•the ex-Lord Mayor, that he at least should not refuse to du the polite thing upon this occasion. He flatly refused, however, to accompany his successor into the dread presence of Ma jesty. A deputation, consisting of some half-dozen mem bers of the council, was ultimately got together, and it was determined that they should should proceed to Lon don forthwith. THIRD EDITION. Standard-office, Three o'clock. . COTTON MARKET-THREE O'CLOCK. There is a tremendous Tuesday's business going on at present, the extent cannot be correctly calculated, but it will exceed 10.000 or 12;000 bales, at id. per lb. advance on yesterday's prices, and generally id. on Friday's quo tations, on all Cotton at sd. and downwards. Specula tors are monopolizing all. LIVERPOOL CORN EXCHANGE, This DAY. (From Messrs. R. M'akin & Sans' Circular.) The moderate arrivals, uw to Friday last, have been con siderably augmented since, furnishing a good supply of with a fur- they liheral - ticcessiOn of Trish dittmealTaTsWaal is i statement below ; from abroad, however r we have nothing to report beyond 176 barrels of Flour from the American Rtates, the imports from Canada having nearly, if not wholly ceased for the winter. Having very few country buyers at our Corn Exchange to-day, and our home millers remaining decidedly inactive, we have to report an extremely dull'and lingering sale this morning for all descriptions of English and Foreign free Wheats, and a very limited demand for Irish, any of which hardly sustained current rates of this day se'nnight.— Several more cargoes of Foreign were eagerly offering to arrive, but of these no further purchases transpired. Flour of all denominations was equally difficult to sell at our last quotations. _ _ _ Barley, upon a slow demand, was unaltered in value ; whilst Malt of prime quality was the turn dearer. Beans and Pease, confined to small retail sales, barely supported late prices. ARRIVALS OF. CORN, From the aardto the 29th Jan,, 1844, inetiative. IRE. COAST. i PO "wp. w.. I CANADA REJON. TOTA L . Wheat .. Ors. 4305 1737 6942 Barley. Qrs. 445 1793 2238 Malt Qrs. 419 28)4-, 3223 Oats Qrs. 5748 837 6585 Rye Qrs. Beans Qrs. 7 313 320 Pease Qrs. 20 20 ShelledßarleyQrs. Indian Corn. Qrs. Rapeseed Qr 3. Oatmeal .. Loads, 14570 29 14590 Flour. .... Sacks 7244 561 7805 Ditto Bris. ! 176 176 Into Runcorn,— Ireland. and Coastwise, Wheat, 981 qrs. ; Malt, qrs. ; Oats. 500 qrs.; Beans, qrs. ; Oatmeal, 1049 loads; Flour, 032 sacks. EXPORTS.—Foreign. Malt, qrs. • Oats,. sog, qrs. ; Pease, 75 qrs. ; Indian Corn , qrs. ; Oat meal, loads ; Flour, 50 brls.—lreland Wheat, 138 qrs. ; Beans, qrs ; Indian Corn, qrs. ; Oatmeal, 20. , loads ; Flour, sacks. brls. —Coastwise. Wheat, aro qrs. ; Barley. qrs. ; Malt, 7 qrs. ; Oats, qrs. ; Beans, qrs. ; Pease, 22 qrs.; Indian Corn, I I— qrs. 3, Flour, 221 sacks 81 brls. Average•priceS of Grain. for the week ending Jan.. 20, 1844. Wheat 516. Bd. Barley 335. 7d. I Oats- 18s. 9d. I Rye 31s. 7d. Beans.. 295. 6d. I Pease.. 303. 3d. Aggregate average of the six weeks. Wheat 505 6d I Barley 325 7d I Oats :8e 7d. 1 Rye 31s 2d Beans.. 30S. 2d. I Pease.. 31s. Id. Duty on Foreign Grain, Sec. this week. 13711e3t20s Od I Barley 6s Od I Oats .. . 8s Od I Rye.. 10s ed Beans Hs 6d I Pease.. 10s 6d I Ind. Corn Os 04 I Flour 12s Oid Ditto from British Colonies out of Europe. Wheat.. Is. Od. I Barley.. Os. 6d. I Oats ..2s. Od. I Rye.. 2s Od Beans 2s. 6d I Pease 2s. Od. I Ind. Corn Os. Od. I Flour.. Cs 7id Liverpool Averages, week ending January 23, 1844. Wheat, 738.qr5., price 495. Lid. Oats, 4ii4 qrs., price 18s Id. DISTINGUISHED Inismatex.—ln the highest branches of human knowledge, and on the widest arena of human en terprise, the names of Irishmen are justly celebrated. A m ong divines, philosophers, statesmen, orators, legisla tors, diplomatists, financiers, historians, warriors, poets, astronomers, physicians, sculptors, musicians, and dra matists, we find the names of Archbishop Ussher, Berke ley, Adam Clarke, Wellesley, Wellington, Burke, Boyle, Swift, Sterne, Steele, Goldsmith, Sheridan, Hastings, Grattan, Canning, Foster, Curran, Flood, Bushe, Yel verton, Clare, Beresford, Croker, Gifford, Duigenan, Musgrave, Barrington, Charlemont, Burgh, Valentia (Lord), ons Parsons, Lucas, C aven di s h, M a lone, Hutchison, p oby, Pakenham, O'Loughlin, Plunkett, Sheill, Jebb, Browne, Loftus, Sloane (Sir Hans), Castlereagh, Macartney, Staunton, Francis (Sir Philip), Coote (Sir Eyre), Knox, Parnell (financier), Parnell (poet), Pottin ger (Sir Henry), Gough (Sir Hugh), Brinkely, Oxman town, Edgeworth, Robinson, Hamilton, Morgan (Lady), Blesslngton (Countess), Mornington, Gillespie (Rollo), Moore, Hawkins, Abernethy, Collis, Crampton, Lever, Newenham, Hall (Mrs.), Lover, Wolff, Maxwell, Matu rin, Carolan, O'Neil (Miss), Farren (Miss), Sheridan Knowles, Montgomery, Plowden, Leland, Stephenson, Mossop, Murphy, Cooke, Macklin, Hogan, Shee, Maclise, and others of past and rising celebrity. What enabled these distinguished men to inscribe their names in the scroll of fame, and to add to the honour and to the wel fare of their country ? The wide and noble field of Bri tish enterprise. Wherever wind blows, or ocean rolls, there may be found united the English, Irish, Scotch, and Welch, under the glorious title of Britons, establish ing the physical, mental, and moral supremacy of their " United Kingdom," striking the fetters from the slave, emancipating the oppressed, and, in fulfilment of a Di v i n e mission, prea c hi n g the glad tidings of the Gospel in dis tant and heathen lands.—Montgomery Martin's Ireland. FOURTH EDITION. Standard-office, Four o'clock. ADJOURNED ➢IEETING OF THE TOWN COUNCIL, UPON THE DOCK QUESTION. The Council met again, pursuant to adjournment, this day, and the mover of the adjournment, Mr. ASPINALL, was called upon to open the debate. After begging the indulgence of the council on the score of indisposition, and stating that nothing but his extreme anxiety for the issue of one of the most momentous questions which had been agitated since the passing of the reform bill would have induced him to attend, said he should support the resolution proposed by the chairman of the Dock Committee ; but whilst thus indicating his opinion upon the subject, he could not help expressing his astonishment at the mode of proceeding adonted yes terday. The object was well known to he to postpone the decision of this question for an indefinite period. He was surprised to hear Mr. Evans assert, contrary to all evi dence, that there was no necessity for dock extension. He had the opinion of quite as competent an authority as Mr. Fvans—viz. Mr. Wm. Brown—that ever since the year 1810 the trade of this port had been in advance of the facilities afforded for it ; and he was convinced, from many considerations which he brought before the Council. that they would be wantonly injuring the Estate under their management. if they let slits the present opportunity of purchasing the Harrington Estate. Mr. HODGSON. at some length, maintained that, in deciding the question now before the council. it was not requisite that parties connected with the Harrington pro perty should abstain from voting. They were bound to their constituents to express their honest opinions upon a great public question, or to retire from the council, and let the opinions of the constituency itself he represented by others. Mr. Hodgson concluded by exnressing his intention to supnort the resolution of the Chairman of the Dock Committee. Mr. PARKER spoke against the purchase of the Har rington property. which, he contended, was about to he thrust upon the Dock Committee, because it had Droved an unprofitable speculation for its original proprietors. Mr. BIRKETT spoke briefly in favour of the resolution, and in reply to Mr. Evans's speech of yesterday. Mr. ISAAC HOLMES ea,ressed his gratification that at length the north end of the town was about to be rendered available for dock purposes, and was particularly pleased to see the connexion proposed to he formed with the Leeds Canal. A dock to the north was much wanted for our large steamers. But above all things, it was abso lutely necessary that the Harrington property on the south should be purchased. It was free from rates to the dock estate. By purchasing it they got rid of its act of parliament, which, if the cnuneil had done its duty, ought never to have been eranted. Rather than not buy this, he would go the length of buying both the Harring ton and the Herculaneum properties. Mr.Busnatt. at great length, and to the evident surprise of many of his friends in the council, contended that a large increase of dock space was not wanted. He main tained that by increasing the length of the Custom-house day from eight hours to twelve, one third more work could be done in the existing docks, than at present ; and illustrated his argument by the fact, that in a celebrated house in London, called !my's Chop-house, a• large busi ness was done in a small space, by the pronrietor not ad mitring newspapers into his premises, on the ground that his benches were made for dining unon. and not for his customers to sit rending. Liverpool, he contemled, was now differently circumstanced to her former position. She was menaced with opposition by (leeks in Wallasey Pool, which could he executed fir £50.000, (which state ment was dissented from by Mr. Lace,) and it was the'duty of the council to husband the resources of the dock estate, so as to prepare themselves for competition. No member appearing disposed to go on with the de bate, and the Chairman not rising to reply, the Mayor was proceeding to take the votes, when, after some hesi tation, Mr. ATKIN rose, and addressed the meeting at great length, urging - most of the objections to the dock exten sion proposed on the part of the Dock Trustees, which he has so frequently put forth previouslY. There was no just ground for such haste in the purchase of the land, and in incurring so great an outlay. If they went to such cost they must increase their rates, and'the consequence would be. a decrease of our trade, through a preference that would he given to other and cheaper ports. If they kept their rates low, this port would always command a prePrence, whatever the charges might elsewhere be. H e moved an amendment. "That it is inadvisable to proceed further with the dock hills, until the plans of the proposed n .ry docks he prepared and approved of " Mr. BARCLAY concurred with Mr. Bushell, that they ought to-make the hest use of the land they already had, and price was a main question. Mr. ROYDEN said that it would be wrong to enclose the Queen's Dock Basin. from which there were so many entrances, the gridiron, shelter for hosts, &c. Mr. Nicol., in a long and very able address, replied to the arguments adduced against the proposed measure, furnishing in proof of the increase of the port a variety of authentic statistics. There W.R last year a surplus of re venue from the docks of £66,000, and the whole cost of the proposed dock extension was £1.120,000. Mr. H. LAWRENCE said the general voice of the public WAR for dock extension, and they must either concur or reduce their present dock rates. ata i o.az;ax.gx...llToctitia_ said. _that. after ...It: ha lifid Yetillear , e saw the neeessity of going to-parlia ment for docks, both north and south. Trade was in creasing. and would, he trusted, continue to increase. The amendment was then put, and lost by 33 to-14. Mi. TURNER moved another amendment, to the effect that negnriations should be entered into with the Har rington 171nrk Company for the purchase of land. for a steam dock to the extent of 40.000 yards. This was put and also lost by 34 to 13. The original motion was then carried by a large- majo rity, without the names being taken. ANOTHER SERMITQ rti RGE AGAINST A CAPTAIN. At the Police-court this day, Capt. Charles M'Donald, of the Cleofrid, was arraigned at the bar, charged, under the following circumstances. which were briefly stated by Mr. Dowling :—Tn the month of August the Cleofrid: the Susan, and the William Rathbone w re lying in the Ca meroon River, in Africa ; that on the 30th August the captain came on hoard the Cleofrid, and addressing him self to the chief officer, said he could not stand the mate of the William Rathhone, Green, taking oil from the kegs belonging to his emeloyers. and ordered him to put the trade pistols in the boat, with which he complied. The captain took with him a person of the name of Boyle. who was a kind of captains clerk, and the res were all Kroo men. Shortly after this a boat, with the mate of the William Rathhone. who was wounded, came alongside the Cleofrid, and Mr. Green was put on board. It would be shown, in evidence, that previous to his death, the wounded man stated that he was shot by Boyle. Boyle had. however, died a short time after, from natural causes. Mr. Dow ling then called Andrew Potter, who stated that he was chief mate of the Cleofrid, that about half-past seven on the morning of the 30th of August the captain came on hoard from the beach, and stated to him that Green was taking the oil be longing to the owners of the Cleofrid, and that he would not stand to see the oil'taken away in his own casks. He then ordered witness to put 2 or 3 of the trade pistols in the boat ; the pistols were loaded with ball cartridge, which he (witness) had cast himself ; he obeyed the captain's orders, and the boat shoved- off, the captain and Boyle being the only white persons on board. About a quarter ofan hour after this the mate, with a crew of seven, followed the captain to the shore, and on the passage the witness beard the reports of two or three pistols, and saw the flash of another that had missed fire. The captain hadtwo pistols, but the bore of them was smaller than those of - the trade ptois, and the captain was in the habit of having the balls cut down to fit them. When the mate's reached the shore, the captain was in the boat alongside the beach. He (the captain) ordered the mate to take the oil on board a vessel called the Susan, that the dispute might be settled there, and accompanied the mate to the Susan, on thz deck of which he (witness) heard the captain say " he would rather have lost a thousand pounds than that Green should have been shot." This was the first he had heard of it, and at this time the captain had a silk hand kerchief round his waist, in which were his own pistols and one of the trade pistols. From the Susan witness proceeded to the Cleofrid, and them, near the round house, saw the wounded man ; the ball had entered on the left side of the stomach, and was afterwards extracted near. tlua- rata on . the right gide by Mr. _TbomPson. a surgeon. The ball was not one that would have loaded the trade pistols, but one similar to those which were cut down for the captain's pistols. In reply to a question from Mr. Rushton, witness said the ball extracted from Green had been cut down and reduced to fit the captain's pistol. Green lived three weeks after the wound and did not, in the witnesses opinion, think himself in dan ger. Two days before he died he wrs taken on board his s hid, he could then walk, after which be had never seen him. Witness took the pistols from the captain, one was loaded the other was discharged. Boyle never seemed the same man after this affair occurred, and walked up and walked up and down like a man deranged ; he died on the 2nd of October. This witness was examined by Mr. Owen, when be stated that while lying on the deck he heard Green say to Boyle " You scoundrel my blood is on your head." At this stage of the proceeding the case was remanded till to-morrow. Mr. Rushton allowed the prisoner to be admitted to bail, himself in £5OO, and two sureties in £2OO. EMIGRATION TO CANApA.—SOUthaMptOR is appoint ed the port for the emigration to Canada, under the Gov ernment arrangements. The fine brig Rainbow, now in the Southampton docks, will be the first to leave, and will take out 300 e migrants.—Hampshire Advertiser. MBLANCHOLY CASE.—A poor fatuous woman, be longing to Rsss-shire, who had been in the habit of wandering from home unknown to her friends, was lately found by a shepherd lying on a hill in Sutherlandshire, exposed to cold and inclemency of the weather. When discovered, ber lower extremities were found to he in a state of mortification from frost-bite. She was last week cenveyed to the infirmary, Inverness, and has since had both legs amputated by D. Manford, one of the ordinary medical attendants. We understand she is going on well. —Ross-shire Advertiser, THE BANK OF ENGLAND. The probability of the continuance of the Bank of England's charter becoming an important object of consideration in the monetary circles now the, time for the session is drawing near, a s h o rt view o f the different renewals of that charter may not be uninteresting to the general reader, who has not the means of information on this subject constantly within his reach. The act by which the Bank of England was esta blished is entitled "An Act f or grant i ng to their Majesties several duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, for securing certain recompenses and advantages in the said act mentioned to such persons as shall volun tarily advance the sum of £1,500,000 towards carry ing on the war with France." After authorising the raising of £1,200,000 by subscription, this act states that the subscribers shall be formed into corporation, to be called " The Governor and Corn• pany of the Bank of England." The Charter wall issued on the 27th of July, 1694. The first renewal was in the year 1697, extending the c h ar t er until the expiration of 12 months' notice, to be given after the Ist of August, 1710, and until payment by the public to the Bank of the demand specified. 1 0 1708 the charter was extended until the expiration of 12 months' notice, to be given after the Ist of August, 1732; and by the same act (7 Anne, c. 7) it was provided— That during the continuance of The said corporation of the Governor and Company of the Bank of England, it shall not be lawful for any body politic or eorporette whatsoever, created or to be created (other than the said Governor and Company of the Hank of England), or for any other persons whatsoever, united or to be united in covenants or partnership, ..xceedielr the number of six persons, in that part of Great Britain called Englind, to borrow, owe, or take up, anysura or sums of money on their bills or notes, payable at demand, or at a less time than six months from the borrowing thereof. This is the famous act by which the monopoly of issuing paper payable on demand was secured to the Bank o England. In 1713, the charter was renewed until the expiration of 12 months' notice, to be given after the Ist of August, 1742, in which year it was again renewed to 1764, and in that year to 1786. In 1781 there was a further renewal to 1812. The celebrated suspension of cash payments took place on the 37th of February, 1797. In 1800' the charter was extended to 1833. In 1819 " Bill" was passed, requiring the Bank to return to cash payments. In 1826 the ac t was passe d allow ing banks having more than six partners to carry on business in England at a greater distance than 65 miles from London, thus partially abolishing the monopoly established by the act of 1708. The act under which the Bank of England at present holds its privileges is dated the 29th of August, 1833, and by it it was likewise enacted-- That any body politic or corporate, or society, or company, or partnership, although consisting of more than , six persons, may carry on the trade or business of banking in London, or within 65 miles thereof, provided that such body politic or corporate, or society, or company, or partnership, do not borrow, owe, or take up in England, any sum or sums of money on their bills or notes payable on demand, or at any less time than six mouths from the borrowing thereof, during the continuance of the pri vileges granted by this act to the said Governor amiCompany of the Bank of England. The clause in the charter under which notice would be given of its expiration is as followt: And be it further enacted, that upon one year's notice, given within six months after the expiration of ten years from the first day of August, 1834, and upon repayment by Parliament to the said Governor and Company, or their successors, of all principal money, interest, or annuities which may he due from the abbe to the said Governor and Company at the time of the expiration of such notice, in like manner as is hereinafter stipulated and provided, in the event of such notice being deferred until after the Ist day of August, 1855. the said exclusive privileges of banking greeted by this act shall cease and determine - at the expiration of such year's notice; and any vote or resolutiorr of the House of Commons. signified by the Speaker of the• said house in writing, and delivered at the public office of the•said governor and company, or their successors, shall be deenifxliind adjudged to be a sufficient notice. FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY. (From the " Landon• and Paris Ladies' Magasine'e Fashion." The winter season has again brought into favour the soft and warm douitleties, which are made of levantine or satin, with small square collar,. wadded throughout and' trimmed with gimp. Dresses of pekin damasse are made' withtight high bodies, very open in front, forming cceur, lengthened to a sharp point nearly to the waist, and often laced across ii la Bearnaise r the edges may remain un ornamented or have a revers of velvet or very narrow band of fur; the ceinture is-round, and chemisettes with . or without collars, formed of inlets of lace or work, are worn inside these corsagesorhich are the most novel of the season. Revere and facings-of satin quilted are very. much in use on peignoirs. Dresses of plain cachemire are ornamented with bands - or velvet on the bodies, high sleeves a la religieuse, and large pelerines. In ball dresses . , the double and triple skirts continue in undiminished favour in all transparent materials for young people; sometimes- a white satin skirt is- entirely concealed by the two deep lace flounces, the corsage being also covered 1)1 the deep- Dwaine of lace, reaching nearly to the waist. Dresses of tariatane with double skirts are pretty, trimmed - with marrow gold fringe, the berme to match. The most elegant dresses for court, worn at the Tuili,riest were of whtie satin, ornamented with silver scarfs. Some velvet dresses are made open- in front, with an under breadth of white satin ribbon crossing over it from side to side. A. pretty novelty is the- deep mantille of lace falling below the waist, and rounded in front so as to show the corsage: Black lace scarfs are also made SO wide as to permit converting them into tunics ; the den tate de v lours is much approved for full dress toilettes, manteaux, aLid satin pelisses ;. they may match the ma terial in colour. The hair is• worn rather raised and in ringlets, though , bandeaux are- always seen. Cotrurtir are rather rather- wide in front, some are raised in the centre a la Norma, others have a simple wreath in foliage, and toures at the side a l'Aspasio; detached flowers are also much worn, they are generally large ones, dahlias, roses, chrysanthemums. Bonnets are a little more open, particularly for dress ones, which are of satin or velvet, in the different shades of dark- blue and black but for ne - glige - the shape is closer; some bonnets of plain velvet are lined with light colours, and ornamented with three feathers. ettpotes of satin, with wide runners, are trimmed with lace for morning wear. Manteaux and pardeusses are often finished with revers of satin of velvet quilted ; the Polonaises of black satin are not veil, full, and do n o t reac h l ower t h an the knee. Paletots o f ecru cachernive are bordered with- velvet. CHILD FOUND. IN A PEw.—On Tuesday the dead' body of a full grown child was found in a box, snugly de posited in a pew of St. Martin's Church, Birmingham. EXTRAORDINARY CASE of INCLNDIARISM.—At the Eton Petty Sessions on Monday, two men, named Ed ward Langley and Alfred Amsden, the former keeping: petty chandler's shop, and the other a shoemaker lodgili in the same house, were brought in custody, charged with' arson. It appeared, from the evidence of the several wit nesses who , were examined,, that a strong light was ob served in two or three rooms in the house between.five and six o'clock on Sunday morning by some person who was passing by. The persons who lived next door were immediately aroused from their beds, and upon their. me tering the house of the prisoner Langley, it was found to be entirely stript of its furniture, with the exception of a part of a bedstead, which was tied up behind a door- Upon going upstairs a large fire was found burning in, the grate, with a bed post. one end resting on the grate and the other resting on the floor, in flames, and also piled up by the side of the fire-place, and likewise burning, mold picture-frame and a boot-tree, partly consumed, and se veral pieces of dry wood. The mantel-piece, composed of wood, had also caught fire. A large fire wasalso fotuld in the grate in the back room on the ground, floor, the chimney in flames, and upwards of two bushelsof i g nited soot on the floor. In the front room on the same floor there was likewise a fire in the grate, but not &single per son was found in the house. By the aid of the neighbours and the police, the fire was fortu nate l y got un d er b e f o re much damage had been done to the premises. The pri soners, having merely stated in their defence that, as the/ had no candles, they set fire to the wood to give thea) light, were fully committed to Aylesbury gaol to take their trial for arson at the ensuing assizes. HORRIBLE CRIafE.—A great sensation has been 0: cited at Newcastle. by the attempted perpetration of horrible and unnatural crime. No doubt is entertained that a gentleman of highly respectable family connections in the country, and holding an important office connected with the government, in execution of which he has tem porarily resided there, is inculpated. The offence was at tempted to be committed on Tuesday evening week, on & soldier belonging to an artillery regiment stationed there who suspected the object of the gentleman, and named it to a policeman, who watched the parties and took the gentleman into custody, but he subsequently managed , through the cupidity or negligence of a man named Car ter, to escape. Carter was brought before the magistrates , and Stephens, the superintendent of police, deposed that sufficient information bad been collected to lead to th e , belief that Carter h a d w i lfully assisted in the escape °` the prisoner, but th a t t h e chain of circumstances was o°', yet in that conclusive which he had no doubt it would eventually assume. Carterwas remanded, the magistratea refusing the prisoner's offer to put in bail. The indi vidual charged with the offence is a man about 45 years 01 age, and be is supposed to reside in a large town in o ne_ of the midland counties, where he has a wife and familP The Gateshead Observer says, that on Tuesday night SA individual, described to us as " George Louis, a barrister and assistant tithe -commissioner," was apprehended bf the Newcastle police, on the charge of tempting a privat 6 soldier to the commission of a revolting offence. He we locked up in a cell at the Manors police-office, for sate custody until the meeting of the borough magistrates but in the morning, at twenty-minutes past five o'clock , James Carter, a turnkey, reported to the sub-inspeefor on duty, that his charge was missing ! It was subse quently discovered that he had left Newcastle by the fife_ o'clock coac h for Darli ngton—just twenty minutes WWI the turnkey reported his absence ! Inspectors Little and Crake w ere di spatche d i n pursu i t of the fugitive in _ dif ferent directi ons . Hitherto, h owever, no i nte lligen o has been received of him, nor is his recapture yeti Pr : " bable, THE LIVERPOOL TANDARD. Jan. 30, 1844. l A . Ike] ke, t o , tOti O 1 tit., sit, D t Oa Pit