The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-03-19 00:00:00

tittrature. POETRY. THE FIRESIDE. AIR.—" The days we went a gipsying." I have tasted all life's pleasures—l have snitched at all its joys— The dance's merry measures, am! the revel's festive noise ; Though wit fiash'd bright the live-long night, and fliiwed the ruby tide, I sighed for thee—l sighed fcr thee, my own fire side ! In boyhood's dreams I wandered far, across the o'cean's breast, In search of some bright earthy star—some happy isle of rest; I little thought the bliss I sought in roaming far and wide, Was sweetly centured all in thee—my own fireside flow sweet to turn at evening's close from all our cares away, And end in calm, serene repose, the swiftly passing day! The pleasant books, the smiling looks of sister or or bride, All fairy ground doth make around one's own fireside ! The poet sings his deathless songs, the sage his lore repeats, The patriot tells his country's wrongs, the chief his warlike feats Each godlike mind in books enshrined still haunts my fireside. Oh ! let me glance a moment through the coming crowd of years— Their triumphs or their failures—their sunshine or their tears— How poor or great may be my fate, I care not what betide, So peace and but hallow thee, my own fireside. Still let me hold the vision close, and closer to my sight : Still—still in hopes elysian, let my spirit wing its flight; Still let me dream, life's shadowy stream may yield from out its tide, A mind at rest—a tranquil breast—a quiet fireside CARDINAL DE RETZ, on THE COURTIER'S PLOT. BY PETER POPJ OY, Esq. (For the Liverpool Standard.) CHAPTER XVI. Which, being the last, it is left to speak for itself. FABIEN felt, as may be naturally expected, the utmost eagerness and anxiety to comm Vicate to Elizabeth the happy results of this memorable meeting. The young wife was greatly surprised that the Queen should wish to see them that evening at the palace. The knowledge of the Queen's forgiveness caused her to shed abundant tears of tenderness. " The Queen can then pardon me," she exclaimed. " Oh ! Fahien, you cannot conceive what I have suf fered in the thought that my royal mistress should des piseme." The remainder of the day was passed by the now happy young couple in forming plans for the future Nevertheless the delight of Fabien was somewhat clouded by the recollection of the cruel manner in which his bro ther had been treated that day in the hall of the Palais de Justice. Nor did he forget that in the evening the meeting was to take place between him and the captain of the guards of the Prince de Conti. Whatever might have been the wrongs his brother had done him, he could not but experience the utmost apprehension as to the possible result of the combat. Elizabeth noticed his pen sive air, but she could not control her feelings of de light at her approaching reconciliation and meeting with the Queen. Fabien saw DO more of Paul de Gondi for the rest of the day. He remained in his cabinet surrounded by his chief partisans, and a crowd of persons of distincti,n, who thronged to the cloister to hear the events of the morning. At the close of the day the number of visitors began to abate, and Fabien and Elizabeth were about to retire for the purpose of preparing for their visit to the palace, when the Scholar, gaily dressed, entered their chamber. He was followed by two servants, who brought with them most sumptuous dresses. " What," said the Scholar, smiling, " not yet ready ; " have you forgotten that in an hour's time you will be presented to the Queen. I know how it is ; Monsieur cannot find a dress plain enough for so mournful and so lemn an occasion. However, here is one which you are entreated to accept; and I hope you will lose no time in getting ready." The servants having laid down the dress, left the chamber. " What," said Fabien, "is this splendid dress for me ? It does not become my humble state." " Oh ! this is not all," continued the Scholar, enjoy ing the astonishment of the pair before him ; " Madame will find in her apartment a happy match to this." " But--tell us—pray—" " I shall tell you no more," continued the Scholar, " than this, that a carriage will shortly be ready to con vey you to the palace. You will have footmen and pages, bearing torches ; in fact you will go in right royal state." " But in the name of all the saints, good Eustace, to whom are we indebted for these delicate attentions and rich presents ?" " And to whom should you be indebted if not to the brave and gallant Paul de Gondi, coadjutor of the Arch bishop of Paris, and who soon will be Cardinal de Retz !" " What, does he still think of us, overwhelmed as he must be by visitors, occupations, cares, and difficulties ?" " He has thought of your dress, of Madame de Croissi's jewels, of your expenses, of your carriage, of the number and quality of those who will accompany you. He has thought of every thing, seen to every thing. This has all been done in a few words which he whispered to me in the presence of the great lords, the princes, and dukes. He gave me his orders; I ordered his confidential servants; and his wishes have been obeyed, as they always are, like enchantment. But be quick, you must not keep the great personage you are about to visit in waiting; you know she does not like that." Elizabeth laughed heartily at the rapid chatter of the delighted Scholar,' and quitted the room to attire herself. Fabien immediately arranged his dress. Elizabeth quickly returned, apparelled in a costly and elegant court dress. We need not tell the reader how lovely she looked in the picturesque costume of the time. Eustace could not but give vent to his admiration at the elegant appearance of both, and he did not scruple to felicitate Fabien especially on the loveliness of his bride. The Scholar left the room, promising to return quickly; and Elizabeth, in her happiness, could not refrain from shedding tears cf happiness. Eustace soon made his ap pearance, intimating that the coach was in waiting to convey them to court. Fabien took Elizabeth's hand, and led her to the court-yard, where a rich coach was drawn up. As `'ire ton had stated, there were many pages in gay liveries, men on horseback, and attendants bearing flambeaux, ready to accompany the young pair to court. They quickly took their seats, and were passing slowly out of the court-yard, when a sudden disturbance, at the gate somewhat arrested their further progress. A number of soldiers in the pay of the Coadjutor were assembled about the entrance, and the lacqueys and grooms ap peared to be listening to a vivid discussion which was taking place between the chief of the Coadjutor's guards and a strange gentleman who bore the uniform of an officer of rank. As the crowd only opened to allow the carriage to pass, Fabien caught several words of the al tercation. " I tell you, sir, that you cannot see my lord if you have not an order expressly signed by him," exclaimed the chief of the guards of Gondi ; " I know all important per sonages who come here, and your face is not familiar to me. Retire, sir, I beg; we cannot allow anybody to have an audience with his eminence ; his enemies have no doubt too great an inclination to get rid of him." " I swear to you, sir, that I am well known to the Coadjutor, although not of his party - . If Ido not tell you my name I have good reason for concealing it at present, but I must speak to the Coadjutor of an affair of honour which admits of no delay." At this moment Fabien looked through the window, and cast upon the stranger an earnest gaze, and turned pale, on recognising the Marquis de Crenan, the captain of the guards, his brother's antagonist. As soon as the coach was outside the gate Fabien oi &red it to he stopped, and leaped out, bidding Eliza beth not to he alarmed at his absence. He touched the officer on the shoulder, whose discussion with De Gondi's captain was becoming still more animated. " Mons. de Crenan," said he, in a low voice, " one word if you please." On hearing his name mentioned the Marquis turned quickly round, but seeing a gentleman in a court dress, he followed him instantly. " Mons. le Marquis," said Fabien, " excuse my in trusion ; but may I ask if the interview you desire with the Coadjutor has any reference to a certain duel P" " Who the deuce told you that," interrupted the Mar quis, with surprise ; " but you were perhaps in the ante chamber io-day, and know as much about the affair as any other person. It is about this duel that I wish to see the Coadjutor." " The Coadjutor himself?" Crenan kept silent for a moment, as if he hesitated whether he ought to reveal his secrets to a stranger. " Faith," replied he, " you may perhaps help me out of this embarrassing situation. I confess that it is not the Coadjutor that I so much wish to see as a gentleman who is residing in this vicinity." " Monsieur Fabien de Croissi P" " Just so. Do you know him " I am the person." " In that case," said the Marquis, in a grave voice ' " I have a melancho l y dut y to perform towards you Will you follow me ?" " Where P" " To see your brother; he is dying." " My brother—Albert ; where is be 1"" " There," said the gentleman, pointing to a coach which stood in "La Place du Paris," in the deep shade of the towers of Notre Dame." Fabien, in great excitement, quickly followed his guide. At that moment he forgot all his brother's crimes, and his only desire was to see him again. The Marquis mounted the step, and said softly,— " I have fulfilled your wish, Monsieur de Croissi, and I have brought the brother you spd:e of to see you." " My brother," replied a fee)le voice from the car riage ; " has Fabien then come to scot:l(' my dying mo ments ?" The Marquis saluting him, stepped to the gr.mnd, making a sign to Fabien to take his place, retiring a few paces, to avoid witnessing this mournful interview. Yes, 'tis I, Baron," said Fabien, in great agitation ; " it is I —your, brother, who supplicates your pardon for any injuries he may have done you, as he freely forgives those whic!i you have heaped on him." The dying man was silent for an instant. " Come," said he, as if talking to himself, as his thoughts wandered ; " let me speak a few words to him before I die. Sir," continued he, in a different tone, but of profound bitterness, " you are the son of Madame de Itieul, and will become by my death the Baron de Croissi. I h ave w i s h e d to be the first to salute you by the title, and this wish is doubtless that of a good bro ther." The strange manner in which these words were spoken made Fabien shudder. " Brother," said he, sadly, " why do you suppose me to harbour sentiments which are very far from my heart. Perhaps your wound is not mortal ; and if you will per mit me to conduct you to the cloister, I am sure the Co adjutor will see that every care is taken of you." Albert evidently trembled ou the seat on which he was stretched. " No, no," replied he, groaning, " the night is too dark to see the palor of my countenance, and the depth of my wound. A few moments, brother, and you will be the possessor of your inheritance. Every moment I feel as if I should suffocate. A learned doctor has told me I have no hope, and I wished but to see you, and say a word or two to you. I—" The Baron now grew faint. Suddenly rallying, he continued— " Doubtless you have thought me highly blamable ; but reflect what would have became of you had it not been for me. I saw you but three times in my life ; I knew little of you; you were the son of a person I de tested, and whose origin I despised. I kept you, and considered you as my vassal. Judge, then, of the efforts that I found it was necessary to make in the exhibition of any interest—any affection towards you ; and reflect upon what my auger must have been when I found you opposing my will. Why you were but a poor serf, and thus to refuse to sacrifice your life for the sake of your relation ! Judge then—oh ! pain, pain." These frightful words were accompanied by horrid ravings. Fabien spoke not, fearful of irritating still more his dying brother. De Croissi seemed sinking. " Well." said he at length, " he happy, I shall not see the light again. My hotel is near, you may take possession of it. Go to Croissi, the vassals know you ; they will see in you their equal—their lord—ha ! ha! ' Take all my wealth; but with it I leave you the curse of a wish to increase it, with a hope that you may never succeed--" He stopped, and in the next moment his delirium still increased. " But I forgot," continued he, laughing horridly ; " I forgot. You are a prisoner in the cloister of Notre Dame. You cannot peaceably enjoy your possessions— you will soon be a state prisoner. l know the courtiers well ; you will be forgotten by them. Your protector will he compelled to abandon you. Life shall not be spread with flowers, in spite of your tender conscience ; and your betrothed—she shall not wed you—she too is condemned. It is consolation to know that you canno enjoy your inheritance." P - ablen could not restrain his grief. At this moment Elizabeth, who had become alarmed at Fabien's long absence, now came up to the carriage, preceded by the pages with flambeaux. The sudden light of the torches displayed to the dying man the rich habiliments of those near him ; he raised himself up, and with an expression of deadliest hate said—" So then this is the lady of your love ; she :has followed you then. What does she here, thus attended and thus attired ? Who has bestowed upon you those gay garments ? Have you already seized the manor of Croissi ? " Ha! ha ! Mademoiselle ; you are now about to wed my brother, now that I cannot oppose your union." "Monsieur le Baron," said Elizabeth, greatly moved at the pitiable sight before her, " we are already married." " Married ! married ! oh, imprudent pair ! What ? married !—with the gates of the Bastile open to one, and the veil of the Carmelites ready for the other. Married, ha ! ha !—" Elizabeth could not but gaze upon De Croissi with as :onishment ; she saw he was dying, but she did not under. stand the mainspring of these wild exclamations. Fabien pressed her hand. " Are you then so ill, Monsieur le Baron Oh live, :o smile on our union !" " What ! are you then pardoned ?" suddenly said Albert, the truth rushing upon his wandering brain. " The Queen, my brother, has deigned to grant both of us forgiveness, and we are now on our way to thank her at the palace." " To the palace !" said the Baron, with a convulsive movement—" You ! do you go to the palace ? By some sly door, no doubt. I never went to the palace but by the great gate. Oh, my brain ! how it wanders. What do those flambeaux and those pages mean ?—and is it by the door of honour that you enter? Speak ! speak !'" The young couple turned away their heads. "It is true—it is true You and virtue have obtained more than I, with skilfulness and knowledge. Happiness will crown you, while I, hated, scoffed at and scorned —well—adieu !" His words faded away—the malediction hung on his lips, unpronounced. The bad man was dead. • Elizabeth and Ebien remained a minute or two ab sorbed in grief and chilled with terror, until the Marquis de Crenan and the scholar, tearing them away from the mournful spectacle, forced them into their coach. The carriage Containing the body of Albert proceeded slowly to the Faubourg St. Germain, where the Hotel Croissi was situated. Fabien would have accompanied it thither, but the scholar shouted " To the Palace !" andto the palace it proceeded, where Fabien Baron de Croissi and his lovely bride attracted considerable attention, and found favour in the eyes of Arnie of Aus tria, who did not shortly after forget to throw fortune in the way of the protegees of Paul de Gondi: Fabien and Elizabeth had seen enough of courts, and soon sought happiness in a country life at Croissi, where it need not be told the Scholar was a frequent and wel come guest—the richly beneficed friend of Cardinal de Retz. NOTICES. A Word for the Church. By the Rev. E. G. Carr, 8.A., Minister of St. John's, Guernsey. Perris, Liverpool. This little work is an answer to the Rev. C. Hargrove's " Reasons for retiring from the Established Church, and joining the Plymouth Brethren." The author does not profess to enter into any formal defence of the general reasons which may be advanced for attachment to the Church of England, but he certainly has presented an irrefragable reply (which he alleges to be his object) to the objections brought forward against the Establishment by a seceder from her pale. This secession on the part of Mr. Hargrove, Mr. Carr proves, even on the showing of the former, to have been most unjustifiable and, though we marvel that any one with ordinary intelligence or scriptural perception could forsake the church of his fathers for the reasons advanced by Mr. Hargrove, yet those reasons have, in the good providence of God, only afforded the groundwork for this triumphant defence of the Church's faith and discipline. The following remark of Mr. Carr is entitled to much more weight than may appear due to it on a first reading. We wish it were candidly pondered over by some who so flippantly bandy objections against the Church : " Undue importance is attached to the alleged causes of separation from the Church of England, and no suffi cient weight (perhaps I might say, no weight) attached to the strong reasons for adhering to her communion : and thus, in magnifying to the greatest possible degree mat ters of difference, and passing lightly over the advantages of union, many have been led to adopt a course which, it is to be feared, is more the result of bias or instability, than of sound and sober views of scriptural truth." Churchman's Monthly Review. Seeley, London. We wish we could recommend this periodical as it de serves. Both in the style of its articles and the force of its arguments, it accords more with our taste than that of any other religious publication with which we are ac quainted. The reviews are extremely vigorous, but equally temperate; and whilst the articles and formularies of the church are defended in their entireness and truth, it is only from a manifest conviction in the minds of the wri ters that they can be proved to be true by " most certain warranty of holy scripture." We see here no tampering with political dissent, no compromise with infidel liberal ism, and " no peace with Rome" ; whilst, at the same time, we are not pained and shocked with that vu l gar it y and unseemly trifling with common sense which meet one at every page of such publications, , for instance, as the Christian Rernembrancer. 1,1:e think we recognise, in many of the articles, the inimitable pen of the auth or o f " Essays on the Church and " Peri▪ ls of the Nation." The number for March c ontains an admirable pap er on Baptismal Regeneration, in which the following point s are established :—First, that neither scripture nor general usage fixes and confines the term "regeneiron" to on e exclusive sense ; secondly, that scripture views the new birth as a spiritual and permanent change, and nowher e connects it with baptism as its exclusi▪ ve cause, but the very reverse; and lastly, that the absolute construction of the church services is contradicted, in the fullest man ner, by those formularies themselves. The writer, who is evidently a person of matured judgment and sound scriptural knowledge, expresses his deliberate conviction at the close of the article, that " the doctrine of a vital change of heart, effected always in baptism, and baptism only, is one main opiate of Satan for the delusion and destruction of immortal souls." Amongst the other no tices is a paper on the appeal to the members of the So ciety for Promoting Christian Knowledge. The Christian's Monthly Magazine. Simpkin, Mar- shall, and Co.. London. This is another sound defender of the " faith once de livered to the saints," and of the church as by law es tablished. It is rather a more elaborate publication than the preceding one, but combats successfully the errors in faith and discipline of those who, neglecting the fountain cf living waters, and resting. chiefly in the "stinking pud dles of man's traditions," have fallen into all sorts of fancies and vain conceits. We have the number for March—being the third since its commencement—and in it we have various excellent articles under each of the fol lowing heads, which constitute generally the divisions under which the Yart4 contents of the magazine are ar ranged : Theology and Phibilophy—Art and Antiquity— Miscellaneous Literature Correspondence Monthly Register—Editorial Retrospect. SECOND EDITION. Standard-qffice, Two o'clock, SERIOUS GALE in the 'RIO CHANNEL. SERIOUS LOSS OF LIFE AND DAMAGE TO SHIPPING. For the last few days a heavy gale from the south-east has prevailed in the Channel, and occasioned serious de- Caction of life and property. The following particulars have been kindly afforded us by Mr. Court, the master of the Underwriters' Rooms. " Wexford, 17th March, 1844. " Thomas Court, Esq. " Dear Sir,—l regret to state that the Georgina, 'Wil son, master, from Liverpool to Arica, with a general cargo, struck on Black water Bank this morning, and sunk about a mile from the shore, part of her masts over water. Twelve of the crew were lost coming on shore in the boat. William Curran, mate, and David 111`Lean, seaman, were saved." The Georgina is, we understand, owned by the executors of the late John Worrall, deceased, and the loss of ship and cargo is estimated at upwards of £lO,OOO, little of which, we are happy to learn, in insured in Liverpool. " Pwllheli ' 17th March, 1814, 10 p. m Wind S.E., blowing fresh. " Thos. Court, Esq. " Dear Sir,—Since my report of last night, the gale continued with great violence all night, and most part of this day. At daylight this morning there were only three vessels that rode out the gale at St. Studwell's-roads, viz., the schooner Myriam, of Pwllheli ; the Content, Roberts, of Pwllheli ; and the French brig. In all, 12 are now on shore, including those I reported last night, viz., schooner Hope, of Milford ; schooner Roberts, from Bangor for Exeter; schooner Elizabeth, from Barrow for Swansea; smack Gelert, from Portmadoc for Bridge water ; smack Ellen, from Portmadoc for Swansea ; smack Unity, of Cardigan ; smack Hopewell, of Cardi gan; brig Catherine, of Whitehaven, from Whitehaven for Cardiff, with iron ore, carried away windlass and bitches, slipped both anchors, and makes a deal of water." " Dublin, 18th March, 1844. " Thomas Court, Esq. " SlR,—The night of the 15th instant, and all the sub sequent day, it blew a perfect storm from the N.E., and continued until yesterday at noon. Several colliers and light craft have been wrecked at Kingstown Harbour, of which the names are annexed. The Kish Bank light-ship also broke her chain, and ran for this port, but we expect will be replaced this tide, or, at furthest, the next tide, by a relief light-ship, as every exertion is making to get her out to her station. The schooner Active, of Leith, Capt. Norman, with wheat, from Derry to Drogheda, went to pieces near Clogher Head ; crew saved. The schooner Majestic, Corkhill master, of Ramsey, from Runcorn to Dublin, with coals, is on shore on the Velvet Strand, near Baldoyle, but expected to be got off if the weather keeps moderate. The schooner Mary, of Milford, James mas ter, with oats, from Killala to London, is stranded badly on the Wicklow Bar, and has damaged her cargo. The schooner Seymour, of Bray, struck on the Burford Bank, and capsized, crew drowned. Weather now moderate. LIST OF WRECKED AT KINGSTOWN HARBOUR. Brig Honour, of Maryport, with coals. „ Mary, of Whitehaven, ditto. Schooner Betties, of Liverpool, ditto. Brig Tom, of 11 hitehaven, ditto. Schooner Agnes, of Preston, ditto. Schooner Belview, of Greystones, ditto. Schooner Jane & Francis, much injured. Brig Pandora, ditto. Sloop Catherine Mary, ditto. Brig Maria, of Whitehaven, ditto. Sloop Colonel Smith, of Carnarvon. THE LIVERPOOL krtANDARD SELECTIONS. AD LIBITUM ORNAMENTS IN SINGING.—One night, while Handel was in Dublin, Dubourg having a solo part in a song, and a close to make, ad libitum, be wandered about in different keys a great while, and seemed indeed a little bewildered, and uncertain of his original key ; but, at length, coming to the shake, which was to ter minate this long close, Handel, to the great delight of the audience, and augmentation of applause, cried out loud enough to be heard in the most remote parts of the theatre, " You are welcome home, Mr. Dubourg Burney's Sketch of the Life of Handel. RAPID TRANSIT.—An attorney's clerk may steam it to St. Petersburg and coach it to Moscow, and be back be fore the long vacancy is over; aye, though he do Warsaw and Berlin by the way. The shop boy in Liverpool, after his Saturday's labours are ended, embarks his cherished person on boards steamer for I:l;abtlin ; stares at Nelson' s pillar in Sacville-street, and Wellington's obelisk in the Phoenix Park ; and, after hearing Paddy's opera in the cathedral where Swift once presided, and visiting two or three meeting-houses (the best schools for flirtation in the world, as is known to e7ery visitor to the Irish metropolis.) he may re-embark about bed-time-- when he may reckon with tolerable certainty upon being home in time to open his master's shop,- at the wonted hour, and soberly assume the cares and duties of the week. —Modern Traveller. ANECDOTE OF THE EMPEROR FRANCIS 11. OF AUS TRIA.—There is a story told of the Emperor Francis 11., which I believe to be perfectly true, and which fully cor roborates Prince Metternich's description of the parental character of that monarch's government. During the period that the cholera decimated its victims at Vienna, the emperor walked in the streets. At an obscure portion of the city he met a funeral. It was evidently that of a poor and wretched being. There were no friends to sur round the bier, and the pauper's funeral was conducted with rapidity and inconsideration. " Halt V' cried the emperor ; " I shall follow the remains of the deceased to the grave." "He was only an obscure person," was the reply, " and he has died of the cholera." " Never mind that," retorted the monarch, "he was one of my chil dren,—for are you not all my children ?" and the emperor followed to the grave the remains of the obscurest of his subjects.—Fraser r s Magazine. CONSUMPTION OF OUR MANUFACTURES AT HOME AND ABROAD.—If we compare the proportion purchased of our manufactures, which is taken off by foreign nations, for the export to whom we are r.quired to make the sa crifice of our domestic agriculture, with what is consumed by our own native population, whether in the British is lands or in our colonies of British descent, the difference is prodigious, and such as might well, even for their own sake, make the Anti-corn-law League pause in their ca rer of violence. From the tables compiled from Porter's Parliamentary Tables, and the population of the-different states to whom we export, taken from Malte Brun and Balbi, it appears, that while the British population, whe ther at home or abroad, consume from £3 to £:s a-head worth of our manufactures, the foreign nations to whom we are willing to saczifice the British agriculturists, take off per head only as many pence. In preferring the one to the other, therefore, we are, literally speaking, penny wise and pound foolish.—Blackwood's Magazine. SCREW PROPELLING.— MR. GRANTHAM'S PLAN.— The paper by Mr. Grantham on screw propelling, which was read at the Institution of Civil Enigneers, on the 13th ultimo, was followed by a discussion on the subject,which continued for three successive evenings, to the exclusion nearly of all other business. Mr. Grantham stated on the second evening that his object was not so much to point attention to the construction of the vessel which had been at work in Liverpool, as to illustrate an important fact which his experiments had brought to his knowledge, namely, that a propeller might be constructed of such dimensions that the number of revolutions it would be required to make to obtain a high velocity, should not much exceed those of the ordinary paddle-wheel • ; whence he deduces this conclusion, that the usual condensing marine engine might be applied direct to the propelled shaft, not requiring the intervention of spur wheels or bands, which are at present considered by many engineers as insuperable objections to the general adoption of screw propelling.--Mechanics' Magazine. - ,1 71..0NG1NG OF THE IRISH PEOPLE FOR EDUCATION.— There is no country on the earth in which either educa tion, or the desire to procure it, is so much reverenced as in Ireland. Next to the claims of the priest and school master come those of the poor scholar for the respect of the people. It matters not how poor or how miserable he may be ; so long as they see him struggling with po verty in the prosecution of a purpose so laudable, they will treat him with attention and kindness. Here there is no danger of his being sent to the workhouse, commit mitted as a vagrant —or passed from parish to parish, until he reaches his own settlement. Here the humble lad is not met by the sneer of purse-proud insolence, or his simple tale answered only by the frown of heartless contempt. No—no—no. The best bit and sup are placed before him ; and whilst his poor, but warm-hearted entertainer an afford only potatoes and salt to his own half-starved family, he will make a struggle to procure something better for the poor scholar; " 13ekase he's far from his own, the el-at/air! An' sure the intintion in him is good, any how ; the Lord prosper him, an' every one that has th e h ear t se t upon l arn i n !"—Carleton 's Traits and Stories. PRINCE METTERNICH AND THE EMPEROR ALEXAN DER.—In the art of penetrating the weak points of his superiors, an d ma ki ng hi mse lf necessar y to their frailties, the Prince de Metternich has shewn himself a roaster. It was in the m id s t o f reve l ry d ur i ng th e C on gress of Vienna that th e E mperor Al exan d er grew t i re d o f the fastidious bacchanalia. When the Prince de Metternich perceived this, all the gorgeous tournaments, balls, and dinners, were at once superseded by petites soirees, given by him self, at which the Princess de Cl g was the queen. The emperor was much struck by her beaaty and fascina tions, but h er f am il y w i t hd rew her f rom Vi en na. The Prince de Metternich, aware of the influence which her conversation exercised over the mind of the emperor, still contrived to secure her presence at Trappau and Laybach, to neither of which, probably, would his maje.ty have proceeded but from the expectation of there seeing her. All was purity and virtue, but the illustrious lady in ques tion so spell-bound the monarch that, with her aid, the Austrian chancellor contrived to drive away ennui from the monarch, and kept him to the great questions which had constantly to come before him until all were settled. —Fraser's Afaja:it.e. , IRISH LANDLORDS.—T iI e two greate s t fau l ts of '.'"" landlords are these :—ln the first phce, they suffer them selves to remain ignorant of their tenantry ; so much so, indeed, that they frequently deny them access and redress when the poor people are anxious to acquaint them with their grievances; for it is usual with landlords to refer them to those very agents against whose cruelty and rapacity they are appealing. This is a carte blanche to the agent to trample upon them if he pleases. In the next place, Irish landlords too frequently employ ignorant and needy men to manage their estates ; men who have no character, no property, or standing in society, beyond the reputation of being keen, shrewd, and active. These persons, Sir, make fortunes; and what means can they have of accumulating wealth, except by cheating either the landlord or his tenants, or both ? A history of their conduct would be a black catalogue of dishonesty, oppression, and treachery. Respectable men, resident on or near the estate, possessing both character and pro perty, should always be selected for this important trust. But, above all thinrs, the curse of a tenantry is• a per centage agent. He racks, and drives, and oppresses, without consideration either of market or produce, in order that his receipts way be ample, and his own income large.—Carleton's Trails and Stories. Tent EARL 0F OXFORD'S PROCRASTINATION.—Even Swift's raillery was ineflicatious to root out a besetting sin entwined with Oxford's nature, and which he had dis covered soon after his introduction. " His lordship has long designed an answer to the letters he received from the bishops, and he said ten times he would do it to-mor row," Many years af terwar d s h e was to ld hi mse lf by the earl's private secretary;—•' Lord Oxford has received your letters: he will answer them, but not to-day; 'B/cut olim',nothing can change him." In the crisis of his fate, as we learn from the diary, it was just the same. "April 7th, 1813. I dined with the Lord Treasurer, and though the business I had with him is something against Thurs day, when the parliament is to meet, and this is Tuesday, yet he put it off till to-morrow. I never saw his fel low for delay. To-morrow will be a very important day; all the world will be at Westminster. Lord Treasurer was as easy as a lamb." Immerged in too much business for a man of the most exact habits to perform, the time that could not comprehend unavoidable engagements he dissipated in such as were superfluous. He used to send triflinc , verses from the court to the Scriblerus Club, and would come and talk idly almost every day and night with them, even when his all was at stake. In private life and to his friends, he was equally the dupe of the morrow, nor could ever begin the business of the week on the Mon day morning. The simple act of sitting for his picture for a friend, he delayed till the opportunity was gone. Swift writes to the Earl, October, 1722, " I have now been ten years soliciting for your picture, and if I had solicited you for £l,OOO (I mean of your money, not the public) I could have prevailed in ten days. Nor did he prevail at last, for death interfered with the old earl's contemplated fulfilment of his promise. " I have often heard my Fa ther say," his son writes for Wimple, " that he did de sign to sit for you, but did not. I shall certainly take care that you shall have a picture."—Townsend's History of House of Commons. HER MAJESTY'S CaowN.—The crown of her present Majesty was, it is well known, made by Messrs. Rundell and Bridge. It is composed of hoops of silver, which are completely covered and concealed by precious stones, surmounted by a ball covered with small diamonds, having a Maltese cross of diamonds on the top of it. In the centre of this cross is a magnificent sapphire. In front of the crown, above the rim, is another Maltese cross, in the middle of which is the large unpolished ruby which once graced the coronet of the chivalrous Black Prince, and, underneath this, in the circular rim, is another immense sapphire. The arches inclose a cap of deep purple, or, rather, blue velvet, and the rim of the crown, at its base, is clustered with brilliants and ornamented with fleurs-de lis and Maltese crosses, equally rich. There are many other precious gems, emeralds, and rubies, sapphires, and small clusters of drop pearls of great valve. The follow ing estimate of the value of the different jewels contained in this magnificent diadem has been published Twenty diamonds round the circle, £l5OO each Two large centre diamonds, £2OOO each 4,000 Fifty-four smaller diamonds placed at the angle of the former Four crosses, each composed of 25 dia. monds Four large diamonds on the tops of the crosses.. 40,000 Twelve diamonds contained in fleur-de lis Eighteen smaller diamonds contained in the same. Pearls, diamonds, &c., on the arches and crosses • • • • O 12,000 10,000 2,000 10,000 Also one hundred and forty one diamonds 500 Twenty-six diamonds on the upper cross 3,000 Two circles of pearls about the rim.... 300 £111,900 We know not upon what data this statement was made ; but it will be' observed, that the value of the sapphires and rubies has not been included, and we have reason to believe that were it possible to re-collect and again bring together such precious gems, the estimate just given would fall much below their intrinsic value. The old crown made for George 111. weighed upwards of seven pounds ; but, notwithstanding this gorgeous display of jewellery, independent of the gold cap, the present crown only weighs nineteen ounces and ten pennyweights. It measures seven inches in height from the gold circle to the upper cross, an& its diameter, at the rim, iafive inches. This crown is worn by her Majesty whenever she opens and closes, in person,- the houses of parliament.—Poly tecnnic Magazine. POPULAR IGNORANCE OF THE HISTORY OF THE LAST FIFTY YEARS.—The part which England took in the long and mighty struggle against the despotism of de mocracy, the efforts of ambition, the injustice and oppres • p?ti of France towards many lands and people, the iniquitous tyranny of Napoleon Buonaparte and his satel lites and slaves; and the sacrifices that same England made in behalf of true freedom and European order,.peace, and justice, have not been• brought sufficiently before the minds of our young men now advancing from eighteen to thirty. They have heard of a national debt of eight hun dred millions of pounds sterling ; but they have also " heard that the sum was expended in unjust and unneces sary wars." Many of them—tens of thousands—have v n e o b r t y g e e e t n i e u r a n i d e c c i e r c i v u e l d a t ;and i on. They LIE r eyh have heard a s of obtained a HOLY ALLIANCE, and have been told that Lord Castlereagh and the Duke of Wellington joined " the Despots of the North" to make war on the liberties of Germany, Poland, Italy, Switzerland, Spain, and Portugal. Tens of thou sands of our healthy and stalwart young men believe this, —for no one has set about proving to them the contrary ; and so LIE SECOND has obtained currency. They have have been told, that Buonaparte was a deliverer ; that he had sublime notions of government; that he wished to emancipate the world ; and that he carried on single handed a mighty war against armed sovereigns, in order eventually to establish the independence and the happi ness of the people. Now, if popular books bad been written in profusion, and circulated cheaply by hundreds of thousands of copies, giving to the young men of our epoch facts, documents, undeniable events, all sheering the contras), LIE THIRD would not now be believed in as it is by those who are soon about to become the fathers of the next generation. These same young men have heard that England would have been richer, happier, and more respected, provided she had remained neutral from the very commencement, in the long European struggle of which I' write, and that our manufacturers would not now be struggling with closed markets and against high protecting duties levied by foreign governments on Eng lish produce ; and that our garners would have been full, and our provisions cheap and abundant, and our poor well employed, and our labouring classes at ease and happy, if we had not engaged in that " long and ruinous war." Ana no one has taken the trouble, nay the pleasure, to shew to them, that but for the conduct England then pur sued we should have had no manufacturers at all,—no allies, no government, or at least no independent one; and that the Gaul would have printed the mark of his iron hoof on our soil, and would have subjected our necks to his iron. yoke. Thus LIE FOURTH has been propagated, and the history of England,. from 1793 to 1815, has been backwards, or topsy-turvy, by our now youths of from eighteen to twenty-five years of age.—Fraser's Mcgazine. SMOKERS, MALE AND FENT AT.E.—Every body smokes here man, woman, boy, and girl, almost down• to the baby just escaped from the cradle ; but still I was not prepared for the novel spectacle of the very " sylphicles" themselves strutting about with huge, undisguised, verita ble cigars in their mouths, puffing and smoking• like so many yellow chimney-pots, that they resemble much both in symmetry and colour. Smoking I detest, as one of the most unsufferable and nauseous follies of the day. Strange that men should persist in this offensive habit that all women with pretensions to a nose at all civilized unite in condemning; yet custom has inured men to this. But a woman's smoking was a barbarism I hardly sup posed myself destined ever to see; and, certainly, the first time 1 came plump upon one of my whity-brown at tendants, with her wreath on one side, her wings all awry, sucking, for dear life, at the end of a flaming cigar, my astonishment and the tobacco smoke together quite took my breath away ; that was an impression neither time nor distance will either dim or remove. A full-dressed sylphide sitting on a painted bank of flowers, where I first spied her, exhaling the smoke of a coloss , l cigar, and of a horse-killing strength, with ail the nonchalance of a veteran smoker, was an outrageous novelty that ab sorbed me quite : and whilst I stood gazing there, a call summoned the volcanic troupe to the stage, and each one deposited with jealous care her precious weed on bench and chair, with growling menaces neither to touch nor taste, and then they betook themselves to their mystic gambols, meant to charm the love-lorn " Reuben!' to their fairy haunts. It requires faith in one's art to pre serve illusions amid such scenes. The men of all degrees smoke and smoke everywhere ; in the houses, in the streets, in the theatres, in the cafes, in the counting-room, eating, drinking, and truly, I suspect, sleeping, they smoke—smoke—smoke ! It is odd that strangers don't scent Havana far out at sea. The gentlemen, however, are addicted to a small paper cigar, called " cigarito", containing a small quantity of pulverized tobacco, of the best flavour, which is by no means offensive. No true Havanceo even moves a foot without his portable armory of cigaritos, as indispensable to him as his quiver to the wild Indian. He may get along comfortably without his coat, hat, or nec k c l o th ; b u t w ith ou t hi s c i gar it o , h e cou ld neither walk, talk, nor even think. The first thing that follows a salutation of friends, meeting no matter where, is to pull out their pacquets, light the sociable weed, another talk ; it gives life to Havaneco, lie opens his heart and mouth at the same time, and fills up the gaps of conversation. A cigar ought to be the national em blem of Cuba ; ce r t a i n ly, no thi ng i s more com pletely identified with them in my mind, and I shall never recall a friend to memory who will not be enveloped in a soft haze of tobacco stroke.—Fannt, Elssler at the Havana • Fraser, - Es.—Cheap prices of grain are like the , hams ; the greatest of all blessings is according as they arise from - oduction, or magnitude of JO 4rst we had an example du ',n, from 1830 to 1835, -vas practically abo 'nsequent high a a period, -n pled THE LATE FATAL DUEL. CHEAP NA, ..imreeta cap iti lit_ t h e greatest of all es,_ l Faw • - .de of domestic p. magnttc.. to the LieutenantH of his duel with the unfortunate Lieut.-Colone %in extract reign impodation. Of the .... n importation .. years in suteesaa.. 1 w lllows : jloisn .a account cT. S. Mourn o olifi : has ho en3a origin d b d e addressed e s m s e o. d pf t. a h Letter tdrt duel. Fe r i ;n s b t Ati h fr e ty s i.r a b e bh i c : eby c tet. ring the five fine' harvests, and t>. ing detailed, at some length, a transaction in w", a id during which the fof7ig o f e • niversal and unexse was concerned for Colonel Fawcett, in respeo ws in ot se a house, he states that the Colonel had said eo . lished by the abundan t -l i fs' scale . This in., I, duty on grain under the she s scond we had a mem: (Lieutenant Munro) had been very fortunatein b e l d s o f deavours to serve him. The Lieutenant then prose as all the world knows, rears in successioft, commercial prosperity. Of the s course of which him sliding scale, rable example during the five bad ~ ~7 (Colonel Fawcett) requested me to call ty e a n so ll which elapsed from 1836 to 1840, in ths' the corn-laws, from the effect of the same' as so':n l as -I. could, to explain to him what sow so, s ot tied paid to his credit. I did . p i g. evening of t he . ~ Lieu t. and the continued low prices, were practically' a&Aished ; sums wt sre that -,.! and importations, at the close of the period, amounted to 26th of last . 2,500,000 quarters, and, on an average of the whole, lies little short of 2,000,000 of quarters. And what was tia:i Colonel Fawcett into the city, he hinted to lo o s, s m ost result? The exportation of 6,000,000 of sovereigns in a had some sus ,-ficions upon his mind that were , I b ' e l ves . I tin h f a o v r e tu n n o a vi tel t y o ', single year to buy grain; an unexampled pressure on the unhappy nature. When I called upon him 0 9, L sse ltei. mention onthe that sl'hen I accompanied tha t he money market ; commercial embarrassments, long-conti- ing of the 29th of :une, he appeared considera l ol' n om nued, and severe beyond all former precedent • the con- There was a person 0: the name of Romer if h u pon traction of ten millions of additional debt in /our years, who was sent away as 0 ,.-on as I entered, althoug h l l f se and the creation of a deficit which at length rose to the previous occasions he had -,:mained. I think r lier ei formidable amount, in 1842, of £4,000,000 sterling ! And expected; and, from the aceen2nts being at once at tilt what first dispelled this distress, and arrested this down- upon, and from other circurostan‘:"' I believe pre°. -ewards was s pea ward and disastrous progress ? The fine harvests of 1812 gross insult that was put upon me ON. -led mss.r' lb, —the blessed sun of its long summer, followed by the dilated. The small sums previously alba, Stlll more checkered, but also fine summer of 1843, which explained to his satisfaction • but the £5O the s nier aP t again gave us plenty, derived from domestic production, was allowed for the loss she bad sustained in tab.-. hisc, and consequent general and increasing manufacturing as wick-house with a bad tenant in it, was made the S l t',. well as rural prosperity.—Blackwood's Magazine. upon which a quarrel was to be effected. I end INFLUENCE OF PRINCE METTERNICH OVER THE repeatedly to make him understand that it was strino ROYAL FAMILY OF AUSTRIA.—The influence exercised conformity with his own directions that Mrs. Salita st i o a by the Prince de Metternich over the royal family of Aus- been let off paying £5O, as well as to draw his st l e s u t bet tria is one of those subjects to which that statesman never to the important services I had rendered hint lo ss v oss ; refers, and which he much dislikes to hear conversed matters, and the high price I had obtained for the g yp, about. The fact is, that Francis 11. was, personally, so but he kept constantly reverting to the case of the we . omnipotent in Austria, that " r i g ht" was w h a t p l ease d an d i ns i nuated repeatedly that I had neglected his o r i, the emperor, i. e. his will ; and " wrong ," w h a t di sp l ease d rest, and bad allowed myself to be bamboozled be "; ire him. It is very far, indeed, from true, that the monarch Smith. * * * I remained perfectly l it and his prime minister always thought alike ; but the lat- under all the insinuations for a considerable time. /4 1 ter knew when to yi e ld, an d never a ll owe d t h e emperor I tried to get him off the subject of the £5O, but be ",„e, to feel than any o th er w ill rea ll y governe d b ut his own. perpetually and violently returning to it, and blarningse The Emperor Fra nc i s ad m i re d th e i ntegr i ty, openness, as pointedly as he could, for all that was wrong ahem' f elf and consistency of th e P r i nce d e M ettern i ch ' s character; delay in the sale of the house. The consciousness° h y and would laugh very heartily when told that the English most zealous, fortunate, and unwearied t . ns i n - exer to o f prints sometimes called him a Jesuit. The prince, in his favour made me doubt for a long time if he could t e ... f t, turn, smiled at the eccentricities of his sovereign, and en- mean what he said ; at last I observed, ' Well, FoisyV e r joyed the old-fashioned green caleche of his royal master, this is a very different return from what I expected , 1 "; with his simple pair of horses : the emperor dressed in a I have attended to your interests as I never - did W °l i g brown, shabby cabotte, with a corresponding hat ; thus own. I have served you as no other man could 1211 4,1 riding along like an old retired merchant, nodding, here done, and you have frequently insinuated that I neglec t„ and there, right and left, most friendly as be passecralong. your affairs or interest when you were absent.' He " . 0 ; "In spite of all that easy exterior," remarked the Prince plied loudly, ' I did not, sir.' I answered, ' You did, , de Metternic hi hto an English gentleman, who was wa lki ng I un d erstood you to d o so. ' H e violently answered, 4 with him as s majesty passed, " the emperor i s no t l ess fl at contra di ct i on I w i ll b ear f rom no man.' He rang ' w an emperor; his will is law in this country, an d th e peo - b ell ( he was during the whole of the above time, orn ple love to have it so." Of his brother s , th e em p eror was so, walking hurriedly about the room), opened the doo r 4 most attached to the Vice-King of It a ly ; o f th e P r i nce b efore the servant could answer to the bell, and 0061 Charles he was said to be jealous, Prince Joh n was t oo out i n a rage, ' O pen the door, and keep it open u_sno, learned for him, and the Palatine too impet uous . Wh en M r. M unro is turned out of the house.' I was so °lot the latter requested the emperor's permission to marry founded by the unexpected and unnecessary violate s , for the third time, the emp e r o r re pli e d, " Y ou may ta k e the act, with the recklessne ss an d i ngrat i tu d e ev inced ut her ; but I shall myself pr a y f or h er l ong lif e , f or I pre- it, that I did not know what to d o or w h a t to say;' butif some you would next marry a J ewess ."—F raser ' s Maga- remained for a few minutes, and then went away', ne sr b i zine. distracted with the cruel and gross insult put upon me j, THE CEDAR OF LEBANON.—A 3 compared with other a person whom I had ren d ere d suc h service to; t i , I evergreen coniferous trees, it surpasses them all in grand supposing that I might be spurned for permitting i f '' and picturesque effect; and, when arrived at maturity, returned and said, that if it bard not been for the ea t or approaching those gigantic di m e ns i ons w hi c h i t ac- nex i on t h at ex i ste d b etween us, and the unseemly net i te quires in its native habits, may j us tly b e cons id ere d as o f suc h a proceeding, I would bring him to account f orm one of the most magnificent of the vegetable creation. or have resented it upon the spot. He replied that as i In its form and mode of growth, every circumstance is cal- I the connexion, lie wished never to hear of it again, a t il t culated to give it an imposing and noble aspect ; the trunk hoped that it would not prevent me from doing rib s . / being massive, and of a large diameter in proportion to referred to. I then went away. upon the followl; its height, indicates that strength and longevity by which morning I took the orinion of an officer of acknowledlf be it is characterized in passages of holy writ s whilst its py- judgment, and of upwards of thirty years' standing in t bs t riamidical head, composed of numerous horizontal boughs army, upon the unfortunate occurrence. He said t o , rising tier above tier in thick succession, tine /clothed with during the course of his service he had never heard of it a mantling foliage of never-fading green, forms a canopy, gross an outrage, and that, as a British officer upon fa i t or as the prophet Ezekiel expresses it, " a shadowing pay, I had no alternative whatever but what was us4 r , shroud " of vast extent and striking appearance. This viz., an apology or a meeting. I then called' upon , o f grandeur and beauty of form naturally associates the ce. Grant, and took him with me to consult with a friend. °f dar, in our ideas, with objects of importance and' scenery much experience in these unhappy affairs. ins o ,..l' in lei of the loftiest description ; and hence it is that it becomes entirely coincided with that of my other friend's on;t, a more appropriate ornament and appendage to imposing said he would take the advice of a general officer abot' , o architectural masses, and grounds of wide extent, than to whose reply was, that no officer holding her IVlalolt, the precincts of a modern villa, where none of the accom. commission could possibly exist under such ain insa, paniments are of a corresponding, magnitude, or in accor. In the course of the same day I took the opinionsof tliT dance with thosefeelings which its presence is calculated other friends (ail officers, or having been in the Bel; to excite. Such, also, seems the feeling of em i nen t pa i n- th e y a ll sa id, th a t, h owever lamentable the procesulss ters with regard to this tree, whenever it can b e a pp ropr i - was, I was com p e ll e d t o up h o l d the honour of the egtivi ately introduced into their compositions. Thus in seve- I held in the service at the hazard of my life. I e bs rat of the wonderful and highly imaginative pi c t ures o f th e that on e wor d o f regret m i g h t have been expresse d lotto celebrated Martin, the cedar is promi nen tly b roug h t f or- , wan t on an d gross- insult put upon me ' • but none von t ,.., ward, particularly in his representatio n o f th e d estruct i on b e g i ven , an d a meeting was proposed that day by Lic a ' if of Babylon, where it is made the p r i nc i pa l tree i n i ts C o l. F awce t t, to which Mr. Giant objected. Wh en s ce far-famed terraces and han g i ng gar d ens. I t i s also a fb un d, l a t e i n t h e evening of the 39th of June, that o, prominent object in the garde ns o f Ni neve h , as represent- am i ca bl e arrangement was likely to be come to, alt"„uds,' ed in his fall of that city ; and anc i en t ce d ars a l so enter I h a d l e ft th e a ff a i r ent i rely i n the hands of my sec°" t o' into its imaginary view of the Garden of Eden.—Selby'e I wrote a note, recommending my wife and children td' British Forest Trees. the care of some friends ;. and also a pa-per (which Isn o t in the presence of two witnesses), declaring that 1 . 11 ,1,4, f deeply deplored being obliged to go out with Lieut.-Cod Fawcett, and that, from circumstances over which I V l e , no control, I was forced to do so. 1 most ea rnestly A , sired that some arrangement m i g ht be come to the folumponti ing morning, and I ma d e th ree appea l s to Mr. GraGod, the ground with that v i ew , say i ng eac h t i me, . Goo d _ ga i t Grant, oan nothing be done to stop this dreadful from going on ? ' but it appears he was so obstirl o rcet,t• violently received the day before by Lieut.-Col' \ rStall" .. that he had no hope of oemoming to a friendlY l - 111 ' e ing." I l e t. The following extract will, convey some idea. of ' ---11 Munro's state of mind : " I will not attempt to describe my own roost unbelief; state of mind, si nce I h ave b een forced to fly from r°o country, my professi on , an d my b e l ove d w ile,- childret father, mother, an d re l a ti ons ;: b ut t h ose who h av e known me from my childhood, and' my gallant comrades, c an s , conceive what I have suff e r e d, I h a d a h app y a nd ao' tented home ;: my utmost and constant endeavours w e re 6 directed to perform, t o th e b es t- of my power,- say duties my God, to all men , an d a l so as a f a i t hf u l su bject t d her most gracious Majesty ; and I am now a marked sn. wretched esile. It has been s a id th a t I was t o enter d ; foreign servi c e, an d I h ave occasionally in my'so litn „a and wretchedhe ss th oug h t o f doing so ; but my heart an d affections are,,and ever will rs remain, with my kindred an my country and Ido n o t think that I need be asham ed of owning that w h en a l one I have shed many a bitter te a r for n - hat has happ ene d, b ut what I could not pro/e n , . But I have a great consolation in th e assurance t hat ',- 1 merciful and all- see i ng M a k er w il l hold me guiltless,no the abomin a bl e an d h orr ibl e cr:me that erring men, l i '' myself, lay to my charge." STRAWBERRY HlLL.—What will the palslic say when they hear of a " Second Strawberry Hill Sale ?" and yet such is the fact; but then it is ushered into publie atten tion with so much modesty and adroitness; there is such a degree of tact connected with the mode of communica tion, that Punch, if he be in a merry vein next week, will probably insinuate that this announcement is indepted to the prolific pen of Lord Brougham, who is now positively accusedlof being the original efGeorge Robins's "sayings and Doings.'' It may be remembered the celebrated Mathews, 20 years ago, in a facetious mood, after' dinner, one day created a joke athis expense, tothe effect that he had engaged the services of a great literary divine, classically endowed with an income of only one thousand pounds a year, to compose his own amusing advertisement. Our readers, after they have had their smile, need not be told this is all fudge —a story long since worn out—for we do know that whatever may belong to these literary achieve ments, they can be alone traced to the fertile brain of the " Knight of the Hammer ;" but Punch has just indulged its readers with a new version of a stale joke. The ex chancellor, Lord Brougham, it is now discovered, is-the culprit, but let us quote him correctly ; and before we do so we must finish our commentary upon Strawberry Hill. This announcement will be found in our columns, and there is a point or two that really deserve great credit,-and most especially -not less for originality than great ingenu ity ; our friend modestly introduces it thus :—" It is an exceedingly valuable melange of property (meaning the Countess of Mansfield's) on Richmond Hill, so recherche in the several departments in the arts- and sciences, that it will not be QUITE SACRILEGS! to designate it a humble revival' to Strawberry Hill. Now considering he is treading on such classic ground, he may be accounted clever to have made so neat an excuse for such a compa rison ; again, he says, in order to enlist the attention of the scientific world, and those who were ENRAPTUISIID at Lord Walpole's are to be DELIGHTED at this re nowned receptacle of varied treasures;• but we have wan dered from the point, and will conclude by Punch's proof of his perspicacity, by having discovered the "real Simon Pure," whose lucubrations have for twenty years afforded so much satisfaction and delight. Let us see his quota tion :—" The adjustment of the corn bill has arrived at a great, a triumphant result. It is now conceded to Sir Robert Peel, that in the intricate task, which required all the mind, the perspicacity, and depth of intellect pos sessed by our first minister, in organising his salutary alteration in the corn bill, he has dealt out a measure of strict and impartial justice, no less to the manufacturing than the agricultural interest." Now this style cannot be disguised, it rnit•t be from the prolific brain of one late lord on the Woolsack ; and the confirmation is sealed by the recollection of his present praise, compared with so many years of abuse in bygone days.—Morning Herald. VOLUNTARY .STARVATION. — Sometime ago,Mr.Jas l . e : Osborne, of Newark-upon-Trent, Nottinghamshire. c r 'A robbed of a co ns id era bl e sum o f money by a boy nara c" Thomas Charles, in whom he had placed great con fidence This circumstanc e p re y e d so d eep l y upon h i s min d a s t , produce an aberration of intellect, and on the 15t 1 5 3 . e , February last he attempted to commit su i c id e b y cutting his throat. He was, however, prevented from doingo,ls; 0 and since th a t p er i o d h as never b een suffered to be , himself ; but from that time he stedfastly refused to take the slightest nourishment, and even treated with violenc e any person wh o o ff ere d hi m f ood. On the 29th n i t . b , died from exhaustion. SUICIDE FEONI DEPRESSION OF SPIR*TS.-011 week an inquest wns held at the Friendship Inn, Burrells, near Appleby, on the body of James Harrison, husband; man, of that pl ace , age d 73 , w h o was found suspea de' from the branch o f an as h tree i n his own field. r some months past had complained of pain about his heir particularly at nights, when he was in bed, attended n sickness whi c h pro d uce d pa i n i n the head and for whi ch his wife was obliged to tie up his head with a handker chief. He had not any work for many weeks ; hut, UP td this time, had no occas i on to complain of want, but l 38" always decently to put on with, when out of work he Pl ° ,l ed and fretted a good deal. Within the last monthhel l , 3 _, stated that his spirit s were d own, and he would never able to work again. On Monday he got up between eigh t and nine o'clock, to o k a rop and said he wou ld fete' some hay from the stack, which is in the:field !about quarter of a mile distant. After he had been absent abO ° : two hours she thought he stayed long, and went. to 1001. for him, when she got to the field she found him suspend" ed from an ash tree near the bay stack. GATIiERINGS EXTRAOr.DINARY.—A venerable P. ir j man and wife, and both highly respectable p e ople, die_ lately in Galloway, w ithi n a d ay o f one ano th er , w ho ; effects, if brought to sale, wou ld f urn i s h m atter for o b , of the most curious catalogues that was perhaps ever tfi c , mitted by an auctioneer to the atntion f the P° Deposits of silver coin secreted in te places where s • would have ever dreamed of looking for such a rtie , ,e. f ; one parcel, carefully wrapped in a piece of rag, found l a the- corner of a lumben-drawer ; others in paper'craram i e v into an old basket, or- hid in outhouses, or some etin a ';., unpromising corner. These coins appear to have De e n , shut out from the light of day for a number of years, f r a ° ,l, the different values they represent, such as.ls. 6 d• ,15. ` - a . t 2s. 6d., and . Sc.; and had become, in consequence..°, e only tarnished, but nearly as black as soot itself. Til er were also gold coins, foreign as well as British, of ver y small values up bo £5, with a great variety of difftr en to , articles, the fancy of the party appearing to have been, 1 , have a something of everything. these, let the 0 , lowing specimens suffice :—Eight richly•ornamented ding whips ; la unbroken pieces of linen ; 30 pair of g- 17 4 sheets ; 20 down of towels ; about 250 rich-coloured , - handkerchiefs ; three dozen thimbles of divers me " f o p pairs of scissors, and one gold pair ditto; 100 1 13 ' 11 .'5 silk stockings ; 30 gowns, made and unmade ; 16 womeli r bonnets ; a lot of shoemakers' waxed threads, with brit, ties tles attached ; coffin lacing ; and a great number a 4, ties of wines and spirits, of all qualities. Part of t".., 0 • were found in an old tea-chest, supposed to contain r es , thing but rubbish ; but when the assistant to a Pro f Mona! gentleman, engaged in inventoring the effects; ee s directed to throw it out, he drew from their hiding-n l ' we r seventeen bottles of wines and spirits, some of the fa the r Champagne. But there was an endless array of ° t oo nick-hacks, an enumeration of which would o , :cuPY lieril l much space, if not exha us t th e p at i ence o f the gF eon' reader. The husband, i n thi s case , was a gr eat Plfve fancier for many years, and possessed a very large c o t erl tion of these birds, which he regularly fed and Ci ll r th e with his own hands, and which included nearlY all h e varying breeds known in the world; and, altho,_*,ol, lengthened period has intervened, we s till recollecnterf, pointing out a curious fact in na t ura l hi s toll - 7 ° , f o ot• that every time the turtle-dove c oos , it lifts its righ t c hiC , And that such is literally th e f ac t, was p r oved by m ien , demonstration. He had also a number of fine en S iage but all his feathered favou r iti es h ave b een disFafse his death among friends and acquaintances res idieg u , it 00 1 the locality which knew hi m so l ong an d well, D know him no more. Many of the doves were exne_`f o ro3 f beautiful, and even valuable to persons desirous of ing a collection on 3n extended•scale,--Drtrifire's" FREE TRADE OLD AND NEW STATES,---The supe rior weight of wages, rent, and all the elements of cost, in the old, when compared with the young community, affects the manufacturer as well as the farmer ; and in some branches• of manufactures it , does so with an over whelming effect. But, generally speaking, the advan tages of capital, machinery, and the division of labour, render the old state altogether predominant over the young one in these particulars. It would seem to be a fixed law of nature, that the progress of society adds al most nothing to the application of machinery to agricul ture, but indefinitely to its importance in manufactures. Observe an. old man digging his garden with a spade— that is the most productive species of cultivation ; it is the last stage of agricultural progress to return to it. No steam engines or steam ploughs will ever rival it. But what is the old weaver toiling with his hands, to the huge steam-power mill, turning at once ten thousand spindles? As dust in the balance. Man, by a beneficent law of his Maker, is permanently secured in his first and.best pur suit. /t is in those which demoralize and degrade, that machinery progressively encroaches on the labour of his hands. England can undersell India in muslins and printed- goods, manufactured in Lancashire or Lanark shire, out of cotton which grew on the banks of the Ganges ; for England, though younger in years compared to India, is old in civilization, wealth, and power. We should like to see what profit would be made by exporting wheat from England, raised on land paying thirty shil lings an acre of rent, by labourers paid at two shillings a-day, to Hindosten, where lice is raised twice a-year, on land paying five shillings an acre rent, by labourers receiving twopence a-day each. It is the constant opera tion of this law of nature which ensures the equalization of empires, the happiness of society, and the dispersion of mankind. To be convinced of this, we have only to reflect on the results which would ensue if this were not the case ; if no unvarying law gave man in remote sitaa • tions an advantage in raising subsistence over what they enjoy in the centres of opulence ; and agriculture, in the aged and wealthy community, was able to acquire the same decisive superiority over distant and comparatively poor ones, which we see daily exemplified in the produc tion of manufactures. Suppose, for example, that in consequence of the application of the steam-engine, ca pital, and machinery to the raising of subsistence, Great Britain could undersell the cultivators of Poland and the Ukraine as effectually as she does their manufacturers in the production of cotton goods ; that she could sell in the Polish market wheat at five shillings a quarter, when they require fifteen shillings to remunerate the cost of produc tion. Would not the result be, that commerce between them would be entirely destroyed ; that subsistence would be exclusively raised in the old and opulent community ; that mankind would congregate in fearful multitudes round the great commercial emporium of the world; and that the industry and progress of the more distant nations would be irrevocably blighted? Whereas, by the opera tion of the present law of nature, that the rich state can always undersell the poor one in manufactures, and the poor one always undersell the rich one in subsistence, p e a r rt t ic h u e la g r io situa tions, d ngers are removed, a c h ec k i s provided to the n du a multiplication the dispersion of the o f mankindspeciesin over vital object in the system of nature—is secured, from the very necessities and difficulties in which, in the progress of society, the old and wealthy community becomes ie voleed.—Bleekcooen Maya7ine, March 19, IS4 .I‘l, la ne, of th,e, lersN tica Dalt( .I)test at tb the s Past, been was exte rat' tray Of tart sy o Sup