The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1843-08-15 00:00:00

Eittraturr. P 0 E 'r it Y . THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. (From Poems and Ballads of Schiller, translated by Sir E. L Bulever, i,t Blackwof,d's Magazine.) She comes. she comes—the Borthen of the Deeps! Brmeath her wails the Universal Sea! With clanking chains and a new God, she sweeps, And with a thousand thunders, unto thee ! The ocean•castles and the floating hosts— Ne'er on their like, looted the wild waters ! —Well May man the monster name " O'er shudd'ring waves she gAthens to thy coasts ! The horror that she spreads can claim Just title to her haughty ❑ame. The trembling Neptune quails Under the silent and majestic forms ; The Doom of Worlds in those dark sails; — Near and more near they sweep ! and slumber all the Storms Before thee the array, Blest island, Empress of the Sea! The sea-born squadrons threaten thee, And thy great heart. BRITANNIA Woe to thy people. of their freedom proud— She rests, a thunder heavy in its cloud ! Who, to thy hand the orb and sceptre gave, That thou should'st be the sovereign of the nations ? To tyrant kings thou wert thyself the slave, Till Freedom dug from Law its deep foundations; The mighty CHART thy citizens made kings, And kings to citizens sublimely bow'd! And thou thyself, upon thy realm of water, East thou not render'd millions up to slaughter, When thy ships brought upon their sailing wings The sceptre—and the shroud What should'st thou thank ?-31u,b, Earth, to hear and feel What should'st thou than ? Thy genius and thy steel. Behold the hid, en and the giant fires Behold thy glory trembling to its fall ! Thy coming doom the round earth shall appall, And all the hearts of freemen beat for thee, And all free souls their fate in thine foresee— Theirs is thy glory's fall ! One look below the Almighty gave, Where stream'd the lion.fiags of thy proud foe . ; And near and wider yawn'd the horrent grave. '° And who,"saith he," shall lay mine England low — The stem that blooms with hero-deeds — The rock when man from wro g a refuge needs— The stronghold wilc!re the tyrant comes in vain? Who shall hid England vanish from the main? Ne'er he this oul. Eden freedom knew, Man's stout defence from Power, to Fate consign'd." God the Almighty blew, And the Armada went to every wind ! THE WORIL VOICE. BY MISS SKELTON. There came a nice from a distant land, with a sad lamenting tone— It told of war, and- chains, and death, power lost, and glory gone; A voice of pain, despair, and woe, a wild and mournful cry— " Oh, england ! mother ! weep for us, a bitter death we die! " Wear) , and wounded, faint and few, we fight, and fight in vain ; We die, and leave our bones to strew this desert's icy plain, And to thee the memory of our blood. and our distant tomb to be An altar and a fitting shrine for a vengeance worthy thee." And England heard that woful voice, and bow'd her queenly bead, AtAi there went a wail round her sacred shores, a mourning for the dead ; For many a happy heart was chill'd. and many a hope laid low, And many a warm affection sleeps with them beneath the snow. And England wept—well may she weep—yet doth she weep in vain ; Not all her tears, her blood, her wealth, can bring back life again, Or change that note of utter grief, or hush thafvoice of shame, Which tells of chains and bitter death, defeat and tarnish'd fame. There came a voice from a distant land, a wild and mournfn cry— " Oh, England! mother! weep for us, a bitter death we die ! And we leave to thee our de ,ert tomb, a fitting shrine to be For a vengeance meet for such fate as ours, a vengeance worthy thee! "Oh, England! mourn thy fallen sons; oh ! gallant hearts and brave, Mourn hearts as gallant and as true—mourn, for ye could - not save ; And let their distant, desert tomb, a deathless altar be To vengeanee worthy wrongs like theirs, to vengeance worthy ye HINTS FOR PEDESTRIANS, PRACTICAL AND ;MEDICAL. (From an unpublished Manuscript, by a Physician of Liverpool.) By MEDICI:TS. , (CONTINUF.L. PROM OUR LAST.) 45. If you have a great liking for ease, you will not have your coat made with any fashionable tightness, but quite loose, particularly in the arms. By having it to button very easy in ordinary, it just fastens up comfor tably when the pockets are stowed away. The button loop is a good plan : the coat does not cut so soon in the arm-holes, and it.keeps the skirts down in walitig giek,a:Prasiteti;t3T-it tslslittiin up tight across the chest and up to the neck, for rough weather, inde pendent of the coat: it can be buttoned or thrown back in fine weather. 47. The cravat may be taken off with comparative im punity whilst in the act of walking, but it should be re adjusted on stopping ; owing to this simple rule being dis regarded, many have had to thank themselves for sore throats, which unpleasant companions might have been kept at a respectable distance by a little exercise of common reflection. 48. With regard to pantaloons, &c. Col. Shaw says— " Have two pair of trousers, of dark gambaroon. As it is of consequence to walk cool, if possible march without drawers, but he sure to put them on at the end of the journey • one pair is enough ; they can be wash e d an d dried whilst you are in bed." " The best gaiters to wear are those used by the French when shooting. They are made of the strongest, softest leather, with straps to tighten if necessary . They should be as high as the knee, and buckled over the trousers, so that however dirty the roads may be, on throwing them off, you find your trousers quite clean and dry." 49. The best shirts are those made of calico or long cloth, as it is called— linen bar now discarded, partly on account of the economy of the former, but chiefly because after enercise has heated the body, the linen strikes cold to the surface : the adoption of calico does half away with the necessity for flannel or framework singlets, owing to its greater warmth, a fact resulting from the supe rior non-conducting power of this calico (cotton). " As to shirts, have one in the knapsack, and a very long night shirt, made of the finest and lightest cotton, which will be found of the greatest benefit, when you are not sure of the cleanliness of the bed. If your trousers are wide, you can wear it at the end of a day's journey. Of course a fresh flannel under-vest must always be in the knap sack," says the above authority. 50. Caps are much worn by pedestrians, and some find them lighter and more suitable than hats in several respects ; but Col. Shaw gives a good reason why hats are preferable, viz., because you can carry things in the hollow of a hat. By all means avoid a waterproofed cap. Waterproof hats, as they are called, do ventilate, or you may perforate them with pin-holes for this pur pose. Hats are cooler, because the?' don't sit so close to the head. 51. " As to other requisites, the first to be provided is a good knapsack," says Col. Shaw, " of the best oil skin. It is to be had in all the military store shops in London. Care should be had to have the straps of the best patent leather, and a degree broader than usual. The proper breadth for ease is the regulation' strap for the Guards' knapsack. They should be so long that you could use them in the foreign manner if you chose. By this I mean that, in the foreign knapsack, the fixture from which the shoulder-straps play is placed in the centre of the knapsack, while the English fixtures are placed on the points of the shoulders, just in a line with the shoulder-straps ; so that the whole weight of the knapsack is on the upper part of the arms, instead of being divided over the back. In the French manner the knapsack sticks closer to the back, consequently you do not feel its weight so oppressive." Improvements are daily occurring in everything, and of course we find fresh plans even for carrying and constructing knapsacks. However, one point might be certainly adopted with advantage, viz., the making of the knapsack so as that wet clothes, stockings, itzc., can be left outside to dry on the journey, instead of being put inside along with the dry things. " In Germany," a continental student and ex-militaire remarks, " the stu dents in the time of vacation are constantly, with their knapsacks on their shoulders, visiting distant countries, and often roam on foot as far as Italy ; and it is a plea sure to see the rubicund youths walking the roads singing, laughing, and smoking." 52. Next, a cloak, for protection in wet weather, re quires a word or two. Col. Shaw's advice runs on from the wallet thus :—" When provided with a knapsack, get a wide cloak (so wide as to go over the knapsack) of the very best oil-silk, long enough to reach to the middle of the thigh ; likewise an oil-skin for the hat. The oil skin cloak can be used either for sitting or laying on the ground." There is a very light and portable article of this kind imported lately from France : it is termed, from these qualifications, the " Zephyr " cloak : it is composed of some very fine material, with a very thin layer of caoutchouc between : the weight of a cloak runs about 20 oz. Our remarks on the prejudicial effects of waterproof garments in general, seems to be here con flicting with Col. Shaw's advice. We can only qualify our own statement by admitting that a light cloak of oil silk or india-rubber cloth, of the dimensions of a cape rather than. of a full-grown cloak, makes this difference, that it does not stick to the figure like a coat, and so allows of ventilation being carried on underneath, and still more so when worn over the knapsack, a body of air being always preserved about the shoulders: ag ain, its protection as a sitting cushion is manifest and unob jectionable. There is a light summer walking surtout, which would turn a gentle shower sutliciently—the " D'Orsay " build. The French blouse coats are rather a protection against dust than wet : for this purpose they are well adapted, and, from their ch. apness, accessible to all. It appears to us possible that, in the march of improvement, the pedestrian may be so far favoured as to have some plan introduced, t'le result of some inge nious artisan, whereby a small silk waterproofed cape, just large enough to cover the shoulders and down to the elbows, may be arranged so as to be worn as a cape or as an umbrella, being attachable by a clasp or spring and stretcher to his walking cane. This brings us to the accompaniment 53. Of a walking-stick or cane, which deserves our notice, or people would not prove so wedded to them. It is not a mere fancy ; there is a real utility in having one, not only as a weapon of self-defence against all manner of attacks from men and animals, but, as a regulator of the locomotive vibrations of the body and limbs, it does a real service, as also by taking off some of the weight of the body from the lower limbs, and taxing the upper extremity, which grasps the stick. Davis say—" The use of a stick may serve partially, and only partially, to combine the action of the upper limbs in the exercise of walking." Those who are used to much writing, or wish to preserve their right hand in working trim for using the artistical pen c il, & c ., would avoid, by using a stick that swelling of the hand which general exercise always produces. The handle of the stick should be at a right angle with the shaft, and not a mere knob or steam-turned bend. A good hazel, with the handle worked out of the root, comes up nearest to the mark for durability, lightness, general service, and economy. A small brass ferril, tightly fitted on, saves the wear and tear. A stick should not be too tall. We are indebted to a friend of the quill for these useful suggestions on the practice of the stick. We advise the selection of a good light cane in preference to a heavy walking-stick. A cane of a large calibre (one of the Malaccas is the best, though expensive) will give you all the support you can want towards the end of the day, not always unwelcome, whilst from its lightness, through the whole day, it will do all but carry itself—a companion never leaning too heavy on your arm. The last make of umbrellas appears very inviting to use, as they are very little heavier than a stick, the ribs being made of fine-drawn steel. Of the comfort of an um brella in a soaking wet, we need not speak, nor of their comparative inutility in a high wind, except you mean to try the " aerial principle" of flight. Every one has a predilection for or against a thing in matters of taste and comfort : some never go without one, some never use one by any chance. We can only bow our head and say, "de gustibus non disputandunz est." However, there is one point touching the steel ribs to umbrellas, viz., that they are more likely to attract lightning than whalebone, especially if any part of the steel has been uncovered from the varnish, or has got rubbed bright, as at the points. 54. We can hardly leave off without equipping our knight-errant with a pair of gloves, though he does not require the " spur" ; and of gloves there is one kind far before all other for walking, and for weather fair or wet, hot or cold : it is the " Woodstock," or doe-skin—a glove that will wash and wear better than any (ab sorbing perspiration), and keep the hands from suffering by the weather-changes. Belts are used by some. Par ties are better without, unless corpulent. CHAPTER V. THR START-FIRST DAY'S DOINGS AND UNDOINGS. 55. saving all matters arranged, the toggery all donned, the knapsack fairly strapped on, we should say, select in the next place some suitable companion of con genial feelings and cheerful humour : for much of the pleasure of a tour depends on this having of company, even if only a dog to whistle to. " The influences of agreeable conversation, in alleviating the toilsomeness of travel, have been pleasantly depicted by Shakspeare : "These high, wild hills, and rough, uneven ways, Draw out oar miles, and make them wearisome; Add yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable.' Richard 11., Act ii., sc. 3. Indeed, every one knows that the Irish bull, that a journey of ten miles is reduced to five a-piece when undertaken with a companion, is founded in - truth and nature. It may be that the cultivation of the mind, and the improvement of the taste, might have enabled the traveller to have found, at least in part, that companion ship he desired in the birds,•beasts, plants, trees, brooks, hills, and stones, he encountered in his excursion ; but still the force of the observation remains the same, that the most pleasing and unwearying efforts demand an impulsion from the mind as well as from the mere bodily powers." " An additional reason for seeking cheerful companions is, that the mind is unbent from intense thought or anxious care by the presence of others and their extem poraneous converse, when, if left alone to yourself, it might prove next to impracticable to unshackle the trammelled habits of intense application ; and unless such he accomplished, the chief end of the excursion is missed : the mind must be at ease , to allow the body to reap the benefit of its exertions: Davis observes most justly,. in his interesting Manual, p. 355,--" As we have- seen that, for an agreeable and beneficial large . nurrif r iir The-gaits and organs of the body, so there should be a like harmony of excitation to call this action forth.- The will, the great stimulant of muscular contraction, must direct, its efforts with singleness of purpose to the acting limbs." - 56. The allotting of the amount of exercise each day is, for the commencement of such a tour, and to the unaccustomed, of the greatest consequence ; and we must proceed to shew why it is so, in order that this condition, absolutely essential to the pleasure and bene fit of the pedestrian excursion, may be cautiously attired. People may be accustomed to walk about all day in town, and yet find a day's walk in the country very different; and, from their not rightly estimating this experience, may be very apt to overdo themselves at starting, and so get fatigued with the new and exhilarating demands upon their animal frame and spirits : therefore it would be well to limit their first and even second day's work to something under what they might possibly accomplish at a great stretch ; for, if the first day become a toil instead of a pleasure, the spirits be gin to flag, and a listlessness as to the objects undertaken steals over the mind, owing to fatigue. Few minds man then, under the pressure and lassitude caused by the first day's forcad march, muster np courage sufficient to throw themselves out of bed early, to begin with spirit and alacrity the second day. Davis- remarks (p. 323) that " all exer cises should be accurately apportioned to the age, strength, and previous habits of the individual. Where this rule is neglected, exercise becomes an evil, and that of serious magnitude." And further on, alluding to undue exertion of any powers, whereby their growth and development suffers in the young—" A state of weariness comes on, that sleep refuses to alleviate. Such a call is made upon the digestive organs and the nervous sys tem, for velocity of action, that these parts are first to fail ; and fever, accompanied with serious digestive dis order, ensues. • • Under an extraordinary stimulus, the task may possibly be performed; but the conse quences are disagreeable and prejudicial. Excessive fatigue takes the place of that moderate tiredness which conduces to sleep, and the balmy soother of wearied nature refuses to do her office ; a painful restlessness, attended with fever, and, in extreme cases, with deli rium, distresses the frame ; and when at length slum bers steal over the troubled system, they are not fol lowed with any commensurate degree of refreshment." Dr. Combe relates a very striking instance of the folly of over-exertion of this kind. Exercise pushed, then, to the point of inducing fatigue, so as to render the muscles sore and trembling from over-strained efforts, remaining stiff and sore after a night's disturbed repose,, is not the way to derive either benefit or pleasure from a country tour. On an average, we should say, that, for those who can accomplish by effort some 20 miles for a day's walk, a dozen or 15 is the outside they should lay out for the first day's exercise ; then, by getting a refreshing night's rest, they will have the power and disposition to walk 20 miles on the next day, and perhaps 25 on the third, and increase a little each day as they feel equal to do so : thus they will adopt the safest way to secure all the beneficial and agreeable results of a pedestrian journey. Experience will probably have already convinced some of our readers that our advice, resulting from the same instructive source, is not to be despised, even by comparatively old hands, on com mencing a tour after a period of sedentary pursuits and comparative bodily inactivity : though there may be some buoyant spirits who feel as if they had done no thing unless they came in like a horse after a day's hunting, tired and jaded with a glorious run, (in exci ting companionship of the baying hound and bugle note,) forgetting most probably, as such highflyers generally do, that the hunter gets the next day for recruiting re pose; so that, in fact, he only runs generally three or four days out of the week. This reflection will be suf ficient to moderate, we hope, the zeal of those freshmen who seem not yet to have learnt that discretion is the better part of valorous enterprise ! We are certain that many a green tourist gets dispirited, if not almost dis gusted, with what he pays too dear for in the purchase of, whereas the fault lies entirely with the folly of his own extravagant hid, and not in the article. This re mark applies not only to this little episode of our com mon life, but to that ordinary routine of our course, as well, which—because we pursue with too absorbing an aim, too avaricious a grasp—palls, wearies, and disgusts. What saith the sage Armstrong (page 36 of his valuable poem on health) in reference to overwrought exertion P " For know, whate'er Beyond its natural fervour harries on The sanguine tide ; whether the frequent bowl, High-seasoned fare, or exercise to toil Protracted; spurs to its last stage tired life, And sows the temples with untimely snow." 57. Early rising is at all times so unquestionable a good habit, and so conducive to mental and bodily vi gour, that few wordS need be added to enforce the car rying out of this practice, as well on the starting as on all succeeding days ; the pure freshness of the air penetrating like a cordial to the inmost recesses of our nature, fulfilling body and mind with the glow of con- * Davis' Manual, p. 354. scions and joyous existence, until a sensation of almost bursting life chases the blood through its several chan nels with the bounding flow of healthful activity—an enjoyment the sluggard never realizes, even in the all capable range of his snoring ideal life. A few miles stepped out before breaking the fast will make light work of the rest of the day's labours ; and a keen appe tite acquired for breakfast is of itself no mean recom mendation—indeed, of such preponderating value is this motive alone with many, that did it co-exist with no other, it would raise them from their couch, and cause them to sally forth early. We need scarcely stop to remark, besides all just stated, that, as far as the search of the picturesque goes, no time equals the morning for beauty and sharpness of outline, whether the objects be mountain peak or mirrored lake : all nature around wears a youthful brow, and, if the sun shines out, then, in the flowing language of Shelley's translation of a hymn in Faust-- " The world's unwithered countenance Is bright as on creation's day." An old Latin doggrel has presumed even to fix the hour for rising, in order, we suppose, that, by adopting the benevolent suggestion of a standard hour, mankind may derive the advantage of imitating the regulated visits of Aurora's early beams : " Surge (pinta, Praude Dona, Coena quintA, Dormi Nec est morti Vita prona." Which, being rendered into English, will run thus, making allowance for our modern confusion of meal times : Rise at five who has the power; Breakfast and lunch at nine's good hour; Dine atfive's revolving magic; So shall death by sickness tragic, Who by nine sleeps if he can, Ne'er cut short life's little span. Thus, then, we have got our chart to steer by ; and, though an adage of olden time, it will hold good now-a days—at all events, in country rambles and health seeking tours. We have the hour, then, laid down, though the cloth wants laying for -58. Breakfast; and, moreover, something to garnish it with, suitable for the devastations of a hungry pedes trian. We can't exactly produce the materials, but we can suggest what we have found, from experience, the most hunger-proof amongst provisions--that is, in stead of tea or coffee, a good jug of well-made cocoa or chocolate. There is something substantial in it : the stomach takes some time to discuss its endless resources of liquid nutriment. If to such a host in itself, you append plenty of bread and butter, and an assortment of fish, flesh, or fowl, or eggs, you cannot starve though you wait till afternoon for your next substantial meal, viz., dinner. Tea is all very well in a drawing-room ; or when pursuing literary avocations,. a light meal is required, in order to let the brain have more opportunity for concentrated thought ; but when at ploughman-like labours, the nearer you come to his solid suhsistences the better. We fancy tea will come in with a better grace towards the fag end of the day, say after sinner, as a diluent of aromatic and grateful nature. In C. Croker's Legends we find, and cannot help extracting, the following rich and appropriate passage: " A fine day anywhere is a fine thing; but a fine day at Killarney is the finest of all possible things. Only see how clear the mountain looks, with but one little silvery cloud sleeping in the hollow of the Devil's Punchbowl, the broad face of the sun smiling on it, as if he was just going to say, You brat of a cloud, I'll swallow you up in a twinkling !' It would be a pity to lose a moment—' Hallo,. Gorham ! breakfast, break fast, all in a hurry, if you please ; tea, coffee, bread, butter, toast, eggs, ham, honey, salmon, all very good —is everything ready, Gorham ?" Yes, sare."' (TO BE CONTINUED.) ARCHBISHOP CRANMER NO PERSECUTOR. From the Works of Roger hittchinson, edited by the Parker Society.) Much undeserved odium has been cast upon Archbishop Cranmer in connexion with this case of Joan &cher, in consequence of an erroneous statement of Foxe the mar tyrologist, respecting the importunity with which he urged, if not forced, the young king into the signature of the death.warrant upon which she suffered. All classes of objectors to the Reformation have availed themselves of this presumed fact, to magnify the clemency of the king by way of contrast to the primate's " importunity for blood. 4 Cranmer's advocates have apparently felt this passage in his - life to be one extremely difficult, if not incapable, of defence. They have mostly contented them selves with alleging that it was contrary to the general tenour of his life, and with bringing forward the entry in the privy-council-book to prove that he was not present when her fate was finally determined, and may therefore be presumed to have exhibited but little of the eager spi rit of a persecutor. The last writer of the history- of the Reformation has gone a little farther, and•has ventured to impugn the authority of this particular passagein Foxe, on the ground of- the - silence not merely of the 'king's journal, but also of the Romanist libellers of the primate, triVnliar AkgrOY4l2 iA t eedifenauNiak i iteitacirGlikaT presents, the entry in his journal would have been differ ent from the one we find there ++ ; whilst, if such an in terview had really taken place, Sanders, and other writers of that class, would have been delighted to avail them selves of it against Cranmer; but it is unfortunate that Cranmer's defenders have not produced the whole entry in the privy -council book, instead of merely referring to it, in proof of the single fact of Cranmer's absence. Had that been done, it would long ago have occurred to some one, that it contains evidence that Foxe's story, for which he does not assign any authority, could not be true. Amongst the minutes of the business transacted by the council (who, be it remembered, under the wilt of Henry VIII. were the actual governors of the kingdom during the minority of Edward:Vl.) on the 27th April 1550, is the following entry : " A warrant to the L. Chauncellor to make out a writt to the Shireff - of London for the esecucon of Johan of Kent, condempned to be burned for certein detestable opinions of heresie." It appears from these words, that, in conformity with the ordinary legal practice of the period, Joan Bocher was executed upon a writ de hceretico corahurendo, ad dressed to the Sheriff of London, and issued out of Chan cery, upon the authority of a warrant signed, not by the king, but by the council. It would have been contrary to constitutional custom for the king to have signed any such document; it is quite clear, from the entry quoted, that, in. point of fact, he did not sign it ; and the narra tive which the worthy martyrologist was raisled into in serting,. and Cranmer's difficulty to cause the king to " put to his hand," and - the tears by which subsequent writers have declared that his submission to the stern pleading of his spiritual, father were accompanied, all vanish. ¢ ` i • Hayward's Ed. VI. p.. 16. Ed. 1636. t Soames, in. 544. " Joan Bocher, otherways called Joan of Kent, was barnt for holding: That Christ was not incarnate of the virgin Mary : being condemned the year liefore, but kept in hope of conver sion ; and the 30th of April the bishop of London and the bishop of Ely were to perswade her, but she withstood them, and re. viled the preacher that preached at her death." That no doubt may remain upon the , subject I will add, i. That it was not customary for the king to attend the meetings of the council. ii. That whenever the council desired that the king should be consulted, or communicated with, an entry was made upon the council book similar to the following, which 'occurs on the same day as the preceding: " It was agreed by the whole counsaill, that the king's majestie should be moved for the restituton of the duke of Somersett unto alt his goods, his debts, and his; leases yet ungiven." iii. That the persons present on the day, referred to were " The Lorde Chauncellor, The L. High Threasorer, The L. P. Seale, The L. Great Cham berlaine, The L. Chamberlaine. The L. Pagett, The Busshopp, of Ely, Mr Threasorer. Mr Comptroller. Mr of the Horse, Mr. Vicechamberlaiae, Sir Rauf Sadler, Sir Edward Northe." A DUEL IN THE DARK (From Ainsworth's Magazine.) All things being ready, the door, which had cautiously been kept closed, to prevent the interior of the place from being seen by the duellists, was opened, and they entered the room of death together. The old man whose friend one of them was, wept in silent bitterness, but by an in voluntary action, as the young man passed out of his sight, evidently besought heaven tnassist the insulted and the innocent. The door was closed. The time-keeper drew out his watch, and kept his eyes steadily fixed upon it. The assembled' party employed that brief period, In offering and accepting (in whispers) bets of from one to five hundred and more dollars. as to the result. Accord to sporting phrase, " the colonel was the favourite." though the backers of neither one nor the other appeared inclined to offer very long odds. The time-keeper closed his watch, and gave the signal ; at the same moment all the lights on the landing and staircase were extinguished, in order that no ray might pass through the least crevice into the inside of the room. Everybody expected, upon the giving of the signal, to bear the commencement of the strife ; but they listened in dead silence to no purpose, not the remotest sound, even of a footstep, could be heard. And thus they waited five minutes, and ten, and twenty, and yet the combatants gave no sign. After the lapse, as near as might be conjectured, of half-an-hour or thereabouts, one Pistol was discharged ; and although the listeners had been in the continued expectation.of it so long, yet when it did come, a sudden start of surprise ran through them, as though each man had instantly felt that he might have received the contents himself. And then followed a hasty step across the floor—another pistol report—the clashing of knives, and a brief but seemingly desperate attempt to wrestle, which quickly terminated, and all again was quiet. " It's all up !" whispered one—" I'll bet drinks for the crowd !"_ _ _ _ . . _ " Taken 1" said another—" I begin to want a julep 1" " Fifty to forty the colonel has killed him 1" remarked a third ;—" he was a very nice young man, but he cant come in this time !" And thus would they have gone on, had not the third report been just then heard, followed by a prolonged ca n _ fiict hand to hand, and knife to knife, in the cour3e ,oy which the fourth pistol was exploded. The strokes of the knives began to grow less frequent, and more faint in sound ; but ere they bad entirely, ceased, a heavy b o d y dropped with a dead sound upon the floor of the room Another instant, and there followed another fall. Some individuals present were for opening the door mediately ; but this proposition was overruled, on th e ground that if the fight were not yet over, the most able might take advantage of the appearance of the light to kill the other, even lying on the boards. About half-an-hour was, if I recollect aright, allowed to pass in close and attentive listening to catch the most dis tand sound from within. None was heard ; and at the expiration of that period, amidst a crowd of the most hor rible of anxious faces, the door was opened, and the whole party rushed in. Towards the remoter end, and not far from the wall, lay a heap like red cloth. It was com posed of the gashed and bloody bodies of the duellists ! One lay across the other. They were taken up, and some thing like a distant murmur of applause followed, when it was discovered that THE COLONEL WAS UNDERMOST! But many who best knew him spoke outright their glad. ness, when an examination proved that he was perfectly dead. Both bodies were so mangled, that it was next to impossible to handle them without touching the wounds. The best of it was, however, that the conqueror of this fearful white savage was found to be still alive. He was taken down stairs instantly, stimulants were given, and he began to revive. His body was then carefully washed ; after which, being cautiously wrapped up, he was con veyed away to the nearest surgeon's, sometime after mid night. The room exhibited a spectacle not to be described. The young man eventually recovered entirely of all his wounds, and was often congratulated on having rid the country of a monster whom few dared to attack. THE LIVERPOOL sTANIMIID. SELECTIONS. GOSPEL PROPAGATION SOCIETY.—" There has been a considerable stir at Baripore in consequence of a perse cution headed by the Zemindar of the village, and direc ted with peculiar bitterness against a Brahmin of high connexions, who had lately become a serious inquirer after Christianity. That mission, as I think, is proceeding most hopefully, thank God ; and not at all the less so, because Satan, seeing his kingdom shaking, excites, as in the days of the blessed Apostles, the hated of the sur rounding heathens. Thus it has always been when a great and effectual door is opened to the ministers of Christ ;' there are many adversaries,' as the Epistle to the Corin thians records, There is about our young missionary so much simple, evangelical piety, such discretion and meek ness, and an activity so encouraging, that nothing in In dia has ever given me more pleasure. A work of consid erable extent, and daily widening, is there going on, by the power of truth, accompanied with the blessed influen ces of grace in the consciences and hearts of men, and guided and adorned, I may add, by the meek, gentle, prompt, and wise behaviour of the chief Missionary."— Bishop of Calcutta's Letter, Jan. 21, 1841. AMERICAN MANNERS.—The following is a descrip tion, by the late Lord Sydenham, of some of his visitors in Canada :—We have a host of Yankees, either in the house, or arriving daily from the opposite shore, a gun shot off, to see Mr. Governor Thomson. You never saw or can imagine such a set of people ; but they are great fun. I gave them a review yesterday of the 92d, a High land regiment in kilts, which delighted them not a little, I guess. I overheard one of them say, " I guess these Britishers do it a r most as handsome as the Buffalo Citizen Militia f" Another said to me, meaning, I presume, to pay me the highest compliment, " I opinionate that you are very like our old Hickory" (Jackson)—you downs them everlasting locusts of play-goers, and won't stand no up but your own ;"—pretty true by the bye. Yes terday on the balcony a Yankee lady was walking with her little girl; the child said, "Mamma, I can't bear this." Upon which mamma looked daggers at her and said, " How can you talk so before the governor? You should say I can't tolerate' this." Such is their delicacy of lan guage. What it is practically, you may imagine from the circumstance of my bed rooms opening on a balcony that is common to the house; , and there is not a young lady in the hotel who does not walk up and down staring at the window of the room, which is about eight feet square, every morning whilst I am going through all the processes of my toilet.—Life of Lord Sydenhanr. LONDON DINNER PARTIES.—" Sarvants keep goin' round and round in a ring, slow, but sartain, and for ever, like the arms of a great big windmill, shovin' dish after dish . , its dumb show, afore your nose, for you to see how you like the flavour; when your glass is empty it's filled ; when your eyes is off your plate, it's off too, afore you can say Nick Biddle. Folks speak low here : steam is valuable, and noise onpolite. They' call it a `subdued tone.' Poor tame things, they are subdued, that's a fact; slaves to an arbitrary tyrannical fashion, that don't leave 'em no free will at all. You don't often speak across a table anymore than you do across a street, but' p'rhaps Mr. Somebody of West End of town, will say to Mr. Nobody of Vilest End :of America, Niagra is noble.' Mr. Nobody will say, ' Yes, it is ; it got its patent afore the Norman- Conquest, I reckon, and afore the subdued tone came into fashion.' Then Mr. Somebody will look like an oracle, and say, Great rivers and great trees in America! You speak good English.' And then he will seem surprised, but do not say it, only you can see the words on his face, Upon my soul, you are a'most as white as us.'—Dinner is over. It's time for ladies to cut stick. Aunt Goosey looks at the next old goosey, and ducks-herhead, as if she wassgoin' through a gate. and then they all come to their feet, and the gosling come to their feet and'they all toddle off to the drawin' room together. The decanters now take the grand' tour' of the table; and, like most travellers; go out with full pockets, and return with empty ones. Talk has a pair of stays here, and is-laced up tight and stiff. Lar nin' is pedantic; politics is unsafe; religion ain't fashion able. You must tread on neutral ground. Well, neutral ground gets so trampled down on both sides, and so plundered g nd r e o rzi d byis tried, all, there ivti ain'tw ell le a n a y t t , h b i n u ' t f r: t h h good grown u: and• you get back t o ' w h ere you started. Uncle Gandepr looks at next oldest gander hard, bobs his head-. and lifts one leg, all ready for a go, and says, Will you take any more wine?'—` No,' says he, ' but I take the hint, let's line the ladies.' "—Sam-Slick. DREAMING PREITOMENON..—We are sometimes alarmed in our dreams by supposed danger, and are con scious of making an exertion to save ourselves,- but yet without success. At the moment of the anticipated dan ger, .the terror is often so great as to awake us._ For in stance, it is no uncommon occurrence to dream of being pursued by wild beasts : we distinctly see their approach, and endeavour to escape by running away, or by climbing to some secure place: but every effort to move seems to be in vain; we are unable to exert ourselves. Usually no cause appears to prevent our escape; no object is seen to restrain the urgent attempts to save ourselves by flight from the pursuing animals ; but yet every limb is pars lized—every effort is in vain. The cause of this peculiar state of mental action may be thus explained. The re membrance, and consequently the apparent reality, in step, of our ideas of touch, are not so vivid of those of vision. We see distinctly the objects of our terror, but the memory does not bring before the mind the idea of the sensation of touch, and consequently we cannot imagine the sensation of running or climbing, which would ensue upon that remembrance._ The clearness with which the memory reproduces before the mind the ideas of past time, formed by the sensation of vision, causes those ideas of imagined vision to be peculiarly powerful ; the contrary is the case with the sense of touch ; thus the imagined sense of touch will be less clear and distinct than the ima gined sense of vision • and when compared with it, as i n the supposed scene, w ill,, for that reason, produce confu sion in the mind of the dreamer. In the waking state, the mind is accustomed, to the usual and invariable dis tinctness of the different sensations ; and no confusion arises in the mind, because each sense operates uniformly and without any apparent variation. In sleep, the re markable clearness of visual imagination, increased by the vividness and intensity of the mental action peculiar to that state, renders the scenes presented to the mind's eye of the dreamer to be apparently as real as if they were viewed in open day. But it is not so with the sense of: touch. Thus one sense is in its action As if perfect; the other scarcely acts, or. but imperfectly. The usual ante cedent to vision, the object seen, excites sensation ; the usual antecedent to, touch, the ground which is trodden, or the weapon which is bandied, causes no sensation. The dreamer is in the same condition as if during the waking state he has lost the sense of touch, but retains that of vision.—Erom a Treatise on the Operations of the Mind in Sleep, by F. H. Elwin, Esq. A CRAFTY TIGRESS.—Some years ago, a tigress, in Kandish was the terror of the country, which she haunted like a. destroying fiend. She preyed entirely on men, shifting her quarters from village to village so rapidly as to render it exceedingly difficult to mark her down. To. day a man was carried off; every cover in the neighbour. hood was tried in vain—the enemy had decamped ; and, next morning, another victim had disappeared from a vil lage many miles distant. Rewards were offered by go vernment for her destruction ; they were doubled ; but such was the dread inspired by this tigress, whose cun ning was only equalled by her ferocity, that no one would venture to attack her. Matters became worse ; whole vitlat k isi wee deserted_t_people_hardly,dared to leave their I hbuilearlbily deserted day some family were lett mourn ing. Of course, the Kaudish sportsmen proceeded to beat. up her quarters, as soon as information reached them. A chosen band of Bheels were put upon her trail, and for four days followed it incessantly over burning sands, be. fore they could surround her—so watchful had she become in guarding against surprise ; but what will not Bheels ac complish? On the fourth day, the welcome intelligence reached head quarters that this famous tigress was at last hemmed into a small thicket. Several sportsmen, accom. panied by a good elephant, were soon at the ground. They arrived on horseback ; and one of them, in crossing a small ravine leading into the cover, was charged by the tigress, and escaped only by his horse's speed. She was already on the alert, and no time was to be lost. The ele phant was mounted, and with a Bheel walking by his side to track, proceeded into the cover. The trail was - .very distinct, and, after leading them in a circuitous direc tion round the jungle, returned to the very spot where they had first taken it up. Here all further trace was lost, and even the Bheel was at fault. A cast was made without success ; but, on trying back, they were asto nished by discovering the fresh track of a tiger over that of the elephant. This was quite unaccountable. Again they made, circuit of the jungle, and again the mysterious footprint followed : but still no tiger appeared. They halted, uncertain how to proceed. The Bheel bad just left the elephafies aide, and Captain o—, who was in the howdah, had turned to look behind him, when to his utter amazement, be 'encountered the gaze of the crafty old tigress crouching close under the elephant's crupper and intently eyeing the Bheel, as if watching her opportu nity to spring upon' him the moment he exposed himself by leaving the cover of the howdah. She had all along been following in the footstepaof the elephant, which ac counted for the mysterious double trail, and appeared bent upon carrying off the Bheel, as if aware, that, with out the aid or his sagacity, the weapons of the sportsmen would be of little avail. The hour was come at last: Captain 0— seized the favourable moment ; and a ball, directly between the eyes, laid her dead upon the spot. Thus fell oue of the most cunning and destructive brutes that ever infested a country. REVERSES OF FORTUNE, (From Railway Rambles round Manchester.) Whalley is a quiet and secluded village, " far from the town, its madness, and its riot.". A coach passes through it twice a week. Here, in this locality, lives Mr. William Brooks, familiarly styled in the village " Old Billy Brooks." This gentleman is the father of two of the Crcesi of Manchester—viz., Mr. Alderman John Brooks, the rich merchant and calico printer, and Mr. Samuel Brooks, the opulent banker of the firm of Cun liffes, Brooks and Co. Mr. William Brooks was origi nally a hand-loom weaver of Whalley, but is now a partner in the bank just named, and is a man of considerable pro perty. His manners are quite primitive, and his diction that of the working operative of these districts half a cen tury ago. He lives in a house less ostentatious than that of one of his clerks, and this from liking and not penu riousness. This family affords another instance of those gigantic strides which many of our Lancashire manufac• turers have made from poverty to enormous wealth. It was in this village, too, when passing through it, ac cident detained the late Dr. Hardy (the father of the highly respected physician of that name in Manchester), and who, in consequence, was induced to fix his abode here, where, in the course of forty years, he acquired, as the reward of his very superior talents, an ample fortune. This gentleman was of rather a rough exterior, but con cealed beneath it lay a heart of kindliest warmth, always open to the claim of the poor and needy. He never dunned for his debts, and his system was to send in his accounts every seven years. He never sued for the reco very of a debt but once, and being the loser by some quibble, he determined never more to employ a lawyer ; he notwithstanding died rich, after having discharged his arduous duties on horseback till nearly 70 years old. It was no uncommon thing for him to tell the young wife who came to give him notice of her expected accouche went, that he had never been paid the fee for her own entree into the world, but the doctor was not therefore absent in the hour of need. He was independent in the . . _ _ . - avowal of his political opinions. On the occasion of Mr. Brooks and he voting for Mr. Fort, a lady of the neigh bourhood, in the opposite interest, who was the proprie tress of the houses in which they lived, sent them notice to quit the abodes they had occupied for more than thirty years (how absurd was such a notice to such men !) ; but the doctor went at once to her ladyship, and told her he was independent of such intimidation; that he, with the ability of buying her estate, had paid in rent, several times over, the value of the house which be held of her ; and that he gave her notice in return—he had been useful to her when his skill was in requisition, but if she attempted to fetter him in the exercise of his conscientious duty as a citizen of a free country, she must look for another doc tor when she needed one, for, in such case, he would not visit her "if she died on a hillock." Great ability like his could not be spared, and the notices to quit were withdrawn. Wh.lst chatting pn the personal histories of this neigh. bourhood, we may mention that the steward of this estate accumulated many thousand pounds, and when his mas ter, who, by his convivial habits and his losses in play to George IV., had become straitened in his circumstances, and was on the edge of difficulties, he found seasonable relief in the thrifty savings of his servant, who, dying, bequeathed all his property to his master. Passing by Padiham, we pass along a road of varied beauty, the length of which is forgotten by the wayfarer. as each new feature of grace or grandeur alternately en gages his contemplation. Sabden lies on the left of the road we have chosen. Here are the print works of Messrs. Sheriffs, Foster, and Co., the well known Lon don House, whose beautiful work has so high a reputation in our home trade. We cannot refrain from a passing remark on a gentleman connected with this establishment whose character and conduct have endeared him to every individual in this neighbourhood. We allude to Mr. George Forster, the junior partner in the firm just men tioned,who,to his honourbe it spoken, resides atWinsh °use, a mansion, his father, as a labourer, limewashed. He is a partner in one of the most respectable print-houses in Britain. His history is briefly told. He is the son of a poor man ; was born at the village of 174 iswall, near Whalley. At the age of ten.he was put to the occupation of a hand-loom weaver, and his prospect at this time, did not encourage him to hope for anything beyond the com— forts of that classof now miserably remunerated operatives. Evidencing, however, a taste for drawing and design, an opportunity occurred, when he had attained his fourteenth year, to be apprenticed to a pattern designer—an opportu nity eagerly embraced by his father, as opening for his son a more lucrative employment. During his apprenticeship and subsequently his steady attention to business his efforts at self improvesnent,and his superior moral character acquired for him the high respect and confidence of his employer--the late Richard Fort Esq. father of the late M.P. for Clithero, At the death of the former gentleman, Mr. John Fort succeeded to' the works. Being soon after elected the member for Clitheroe, and being the senior partner at the large establishment at Oakenshaw, he made a liberal offer to Mr. R. Cobden (the present M. P. for Stockport) and Mr. George Foster, which enabled those gentlemen to take this valuable establishment into their hands. Two men, so well skilled in their respective de partments, with youth, indomitable spirit; and energy to sustain them in their first efforts, were sure to succeed. Their progress was almost unparalleled, and their advances to wealth have been' very rapid. The member for Stock port has of late occupied ton prominent a position in the world's regard for us to dwell upon his fortunes here. It is only necessary tee indicate that this place is the point whence the " son of the Sussex farmer" first' plumed his wing, when he sought to soar high above the - heads of his rnsmp r rnmneers. Mr. Foster, from his less conspicuous situation, has not become, like Lis I.tc partner, the " cy nosure of all eyes," yet he is a man of no mean mark. For miles around his home he is, rerarded as the poor menu, cue encourager of virtue, the promoter of education. From the time of his apprenticesnip, he was a laborious and exemplary Sabbath school teacher, and to the present hour takes' an active concern in the same es tablishment. In purposes of charity and religion he has expended large sums.- To the Baptist jubilee fund he gave a thousand pounds, and' his firm has established a hand some educational institute near the works, capable of ac commodating in its lecture room upwards of SOO "persons. Mr. Foster is a dissenter, but is no bigot or gloomy fana tic. Nor is he blinded to the merits of other churches in his-attachment to his own, for, as we were informed, that when- about leaving home on a recent occasion, to visit the continent, without any solicitation, he left a handsome do nation towards the collection which was announced as about to be made in aid of Sabden Church. SOMERSET BRIDGE, BRIDGEWATER.—AIIOIher and fatal accident has occurred at this bridge, in the death of two boys, brothers, Richard Hall, 18, and Joseph Hall, 15 years of age, who, being driven by the current against a piece of balk, placed by the Railway Company, to pre vent boats striking the arch, were upset, and both drowned. At this same dangerous spot a boy lost his life in Septem ber last, from the ill-adapted construction of the bridge. DANGEROUS USE OP MESMERISM.—A young lad, in Glasgow, who had for some time past allowed himself to be mesmerised by all his companions who desired it for their amusement, was•for two days past so completely put into the magnetic sleep that it was found impossible to get him ont of it. During thi(time his eyes were shut, his jaws firmly fixed, and neither food nor drink could be administered to him. It was feared that the unfortunate youth had forfeited his life to his folly. We are glad to be informed, however, that he was taken out , of this un natural sleep on Thursday afternoon by a lecturer on Mesmerism, after two hours' work. This ought to act as a caution to inexperienced operators.—Glasgow Chronicle • OUTRAGE ON A SAILOR.—A seaman, having occasion to buy a suit of clothes, entered the shop, of a broker in the Bridegate. On turning over a number of clothes he found a suit which he thought would fit him, and pro ceeded to try them on. For this purpose he divested him self of the garments he usually wore, and laid them aside. As the price asked did not please him,however, he threw them off, and,wished to put on his own clothes previous to leaving the shop to seek a cheaper. article. This the broker would not agree to, but instead insisted that, be fore returning him his own, he should either take the clothes at the price he fixed, or pay him a sum for the trouble he bad been put to. This the lad resisted, when the broker praduced a drawn sword by way of intimida tion, upon which the other got out in the street, and was discovered by the police all but naked in a close in that quarter of the city.—Glasgow Journal. SCENE IN A PLACE OF WORSHIP.—An occurrence of a most unseemly character occurred on Sunday evening se'nnight at the Welsh Baptist Meeting-honse, Ponty pool, and but for the arrival of the police, a serious riot would have been the consequence. It appears that Mr. Isaacs, the present preacher, has for some reasons given offence to a part of his flock, and in the course of his. ad. dress on the above evening went so far as to threaten ex ocknamnnirAtinn to aFtvpral pnacent, which led to an.nut break, and a series of. recrimination and abusive lan guage, some of the party insisting that Mr. Isaacs should immediately descend from the pulpit, whilst others urged him to proceed. By this time many of the congregation became alarmed, and a I ush was made to the door, cries of " send for the police" b e i ng h ear d w i t hi n. The police was immediately sent for; the tumult, however, con tinued, the following being part of the discourse which took place in the mean time : "If he does not leave the pulpit, he shall not have his life to go home with him." " Pull him down; turn him out!. "He has done no harm—he has told the truth," .re. 8( c, At length the police arrived and rescued Mr. Isaacs. HORRIBLE CASE.—At the Stafford assizes, on Wed nesday last, before Justice Maule, Charles Higginson, aged 26, was tried for the wilful murder of his son on the 2d April last. It appeared that the prisoner, who is de scribed by the reporter as a man of dull and stolid look, was a widower. He had but one child, a little boy, aged five years. This little fellow he put out to board, but was unable to pay the charge, one shilling and sixpence a week, for his maintenance. He was told that he must remove him, which he did, borrowing a spade from the parties by whom alone the poor boy bad been supported. The prisoner reappeared without the child, and gave such answers to repeated inquiries made respecting him that suspicion was excited. At length, he said his son had died as he was taking him through the wood, and he had buried him there. Search was made, and, near a gate, some fresh soil was observed, upon turning up which the body of the poor boy was found about ten inches below the surface. There was a handkerchief over the eyes, and another very tightly bound over the mouth. There were contusions on the head, but no fractures. From the state of the lungs, the Surgeon thought he had died of suffoca tion. The surgeon having given his evidence, the pri soner was asked if he had any questions to put to him. He replied, " I pufthe child in alive." A thrill of hor ror ran through the court at this declaration. The Jury found the prisoner guilty, and the Judge immediately passed sentence Of death upon hiln, holding out no hope of mercy. o"'_-•—• - -- -- iwicasequ meetinga l tow --The 81/‘ --- vim 'r kn t st SHEFFIELD AND ROTHERHAM .'cl„„Fritilll.-h•ch RAILWAY INTEILLIGE'NCEI nual meeting of this Company was hci`' — L3578, "' t al i the Sheffield station. The net profit Is and a (livid to that amount was declared. -A P IP EASTERN COUNTIES RAILWAY EICTOSION. °v job' ot i Tos five as IP° a tbeE o i day last, at which it'kas determined to ester! ~, by 1101 1 , Counties Railway from Colchester to Norwic" ; to liar Ipswich, with branches from the main Lae Harbour and Bury St. Edmunds. 131 01/1* FATAL ACCIDENT ON THE LONDON D •Oa , . AN D is `td HAM RAILWAY.—A shocking accident, • a to pon, death of a man named John Robins, a labourer _ aii c os on this line of railway,occurred to the down lasi, nit to Birmingham on Saturday night last, with ie , oar hePiedratcetnhte. Toonwtnhencasipi,ita,, a_ and a half of the Roads station, arid ne arly , between London and Bi rm ingham• ILO of ~- )1 Rnways.—l a ears the circular ositio" Bell A and Rhodes, t for this'month, that a r_ P OPP unite the North Midland, Midland Counties,the4 Birmingham and Derby Railway ComPs eies ' n od the , ' of the two former to be rated equal in value,loo s n ter to receive 255. less per annum for each 1 ' b blitir has been agreed to by t h e directors of the Nort and Birmingham and Derby compani es ' I. A NEWCASTLE RI, ILW A her AND DARLINGTON id on t ai , half-yearly meetin this Compan y w as he. f p g of d the inst. at York. The land is all purchased an ,„, 0 , be ('" I. contracted for, and the line is expected to . 0 ot A by the Ist July. The whole line is expected '' en tieri t than £400,000, being 20 per cent less than insuredthe an t a l ~, estimate. Interest at 6 per cent has been 50' shareholders in this line by the midland radwa' mr il years. -- 1 1 71 140 01 JUMPING FROM A RAILWAY THAI- ' 1 ,,,t u. 12.45 up-train was proceeding on MondaYirmS4 Fleetwood and Preston, and near the ICirs ua- blO po l the hat of a passenger of the third-class carriagtely io n j another passenger connected with him lo s t bate over the side of the carriage to reco ver the b A li it was thought was killed on the sp ot ; h°L,s4ocsteit,l appear to be the case. He , however, " i , bora! shoulder; but being properly atten ded to, it ~, 017 will recover the shock. It is a me rc y that " tot 01101 dashed to atoms, as the train was at the time the rate of 20 miles an hour. The 1161 0 MIDLAND COUNTIES RAILW AY.- - vis i 01 meeting of the proprietors of this railwa 2 Y, 00 0 .4 , Derby on Thursday last. A dividend of 1 5 ' Alger shares and 6s. on quarter shares was declareul _ and very warm debate took place relative to the amalgamation of the North Midland', th,„., e 104 and Derby, and the Midland Counties amr panies. Ultimately three proprietors 9 /.,e e ,tiool ,I,g( part of a committee, of which the North al l " bap" Ole t he pany were to nominate other three, to se the proposed amalgamation. ~„. Craaj r Itt GREAT NORTH OF ENGLAND RAriAr .. ., w ort" —The half-yearly meeting of this COMPSI," 0 Otil V Darlington on Tue d last. The ha' s° e a e s, s ay est revenue account for the half-year Wa s n o £13,622 7s. lid., out of which the directotFty mended that a dividend of £1 ss. Per sb ste 'ablatsi come tax, should be declared and made* 10 1 '0 1 31st instant. This would amount to Xf''' A rese,lll l leave a reserve fund of £3,259 17s. 11° ' ects' ' . t. do . confirmatory of the recommendation or t.e bo o unanimously agreed to. ~,. AIL, LONDON AND BRIGHTON RAILW A " • the pre yearly meeting of this company was held at _. gsg. , ,,ts Tavern, on Tuesday, at which J. M. p a rse d it t s he a ccs o pi sided. The report was extremely long , 85 cost AO were fully detailed. It appeared that &intros'-9. railway was £2,606,349, which would be griani £2,707,872 by the following items :—Londooo, ;Af tion, £20,000 ; land, for temporary purPoss;, . 09 I carriages, &c.,£4,750; re-ballasting, X11,7 r .1 0 1 0 tha j os &c., £16,666; new buildings, £10 . 0 2 ' .., od ° d off of £2,707,872, the items £49,93 2, combnua,oo4o4 and £327,334, receivable from the Es' oe , iQ ny, would have to be deducted. The " ii , e i the r 't# l &c. for the half yeer, was £85.297. a a w ed t e a_nounted to £74,394. A resolution was P to , £120,000 by loan notes. Ali t l l o o ' NORTHERN AND EAST3HN RAlOri,tll;l3 0 Or, yearly meeting of this company was he'" - 0 00 5 ,4 , The receipts from traffic for the half-Yesr_ressir:ooo £35;547. 7s. 6d., which, added' to the balance.d. 0; half-year, £1,246. 7s. Id., and' £lOO. It „ Q e 9 4, ltjid 85 unclaimed quarter shares, makes .4'-,573.1Z,d from this, deducting working expenses, x'n 696. ‘.- I!) interest on debentures and loan n otesi " , 049AZ toil to the Eastern Counties' Company,'oo ti i oe,ir and reserving £3,500 for rent due to the 1 " - : We' 1 9 Company to the 30th June, and £1;176 chs.bern the Ist September on 3,136 scrip s hares. ' O O of f t4 the divisible balance of £6,199. 11 43 . I°4 " Orin the directors recommend a dividend 0 12 5 ' 1, plt i l A on tbz-9,072 original shares of the' divided Irer the Ist September next, leaving arkttn""itoo o 7o4 £529. lls. 10d. A resolution was tra,a," o ", 6d....„1 , ,, authorising the payment of a dividend OT .'"'v.,l r e r YORZ , AND NORTH MIDLAND ftillid St , , 4 yearly meeting of this Company was IA be c p : o o 6 l6 l Friday. The report stated that there - .--, o itto off in the amount received for passe n g no ;re i lle r er, mails, during the last half-year , as ee Tigle , e vetpa ' corresponding half-year ending June 30, boto‘ e t. of £2,200. The receipts for rnerchand,,,lbiPltoy ceeded the corresponding half year of }7 dat ed " o ii as the working expenses had also been la' year, thedt,,,ioo tent of upwards of £l,OOO on the half i „,,,,pro ir ` eo ;9l , of 1 0 ner rent. v ynnirl hp maintained" "' est.- a considerable-increase of traffic, from the „ e n _,, i 4 01 of the Newcastle and Darlington railwaY-tleellig, ed as extremely encouraging. Resolutio°s;f: steli expediency of undertakin4 the forraati °ll ,,,' h s 'corbi the fashionable bathing-place of Scarbort;wbel'sr imously agreed to, it being stated tha t ,..6o,o o° ' 01 proposed line would be completed for , x , ‘• £6,000 or £7,000 per mile. . ro l bs . 11 ,,,, YlA b l i• ' li e LONDON AND BIRMINGHAM --i . 1 . 11,1 t o ..-L ot , yearly meeting_ of this company was ,"..` n or _„ t "sl' on Friday. The receipts for the ha"Aco;'iaw.o4 £389,658 7s. 10d., and the expenses to d. j to ...- showing a net profit of £223,924 3a• 1 1,0; th e sa i lid with the corresponding half year iiil7o.lo, 0 1 traffic showed a falling off of Xl3, 100,019,fberai goods and cattle traffic was more by 3 d . i - t o jr making a decrease in traffic of £3, 094 °9 O O - t fr ° lo ol l ,lo l a decrease also on the net rent and inte king ts t.g . 0 ployment of balances of £443 128. , o ,t o t o , I f n V . l o crease in receipt of £3,537 12s. 3d. ` - _'_ al ehi l 'os t `f as compared with the charges of the ; 3d. Log e" locomotive power wass less by £4,2 57 -41;01 iotai „10,001 expenses by £3,636 18s. Bd.; th e tog a 9 Ol £514 9s. ; depreciation, by £359; ra j a oc iot '94. these heads of £8767 9s. 11d• ; ar r " o B o43 o 69 ;:' other items gave a total decrease of , 7- , ' ; follow , i state of the balance to be divided v‘as a • li The. balance of profit brought forw a rd„ . 30 1 1 from the half year's acount , endin. i Dec. last ,is ..... • • • ''. .. he re - 1 1556 0 The profit realised by the sale o f t , n mainder unappropriated £32 shares la. • Al, SVP' 311 Making together. ................. • -.. t -4 1 e las Which, added to the net profit of th .. lib il half year - ...... ' r, up di' oilyjol to Leaving (the [amount of profit to ,---.. , j e e p . 0 4., vided ........................ • - hat 's . P 014 The directors therefore recommend t ita l stc' e p renvd , ) , should be paid on every £lOO o „,f eaP ,poort I.- ioaqit pi a deduction for income tax. 1.11e•-' t sess - t he,Al the preset' o d ( Vie' to the two bills passed during .., . / ,„ n y, 6 Of, to pi the Warwick and Leamington na b— ogb. bock : 0 ; line from Northampton to PeterhosZ d n oi mo , .: 0 o t the powers thus given, the directorat"oB X7•110...5r01..4 crease the capital of the comPa n Y bares to Cscrof they had reason to believe that DeW 5 ex i s till e gie tin li g of £1,375,000, in addition to tbe tue tote l i ti oi a ',4o £5,500,000, would be adequate to a the fore'rA , for the branch lines in question, sa d ther e des e irAt the borrowed money. The direc,t°l3'a'ren, reraftlitly mend the creation of 55,000 of Ji2i),!_ and hler s _ s iodo capital of X 1,375,000 to be allotterit t ' o " f liedraioLo pany's existing shares (on PaYin ee b a re fe r r ticiP s r edr share,) in proportion of one n ow st to P 5 o ftbd di capital stock—these new shares n e We Li nke 'f' th e 0 •40 o ' s dividend of the company till after ta 4 dir e._ e i l . 4 from the Ist of January next. The we lt WO is# 0 for converting into a consolidated s ch a p c . vide o , 0 0 0 . £25, and old £32 shares, on sch l • ti °f i ll th e , tet made and discharged. The Pr°Peritto . rio 0 .. A 6 from the profit on Sunday travell"ng; iloarsiv.nr" 4s. Hid. per £lOO. The report %deaf c proved of, and the dividend recfnio,a'at. ior to be paid on and after the 17th ins' til,/l 0 410 ' 0 ~,, -„,1 4 0 t 14 pr. , , , I s aid , lc" told BUNKUM.—" Bunkum!'' - f boo y e 00-. you never hear 0 0 t o Y . °;l o t b e ovoi d never." " Why you don't Wea Teed .,,te e f, f what that is ?" "I do not, jo tt scototent h s bo Why, there is more of it in Novoceroo ilo 0, 10 ,1 than would paper every room in g t he to° f • er- ' 0 ‘;, 1 0 144 , then curl the hair of every gall in No, °fp. k 5 AP/ 0 1 bunkum ? why how you talk!' . ver ybo ' joi o ' . or if that don't pass ! I thoughyboolt°,,,einetbeln,A, word. I'll tell you, then, wh a ~ o it s - pit " t lia, America, every place likes to he°, i f f ibel o bc! or , 1 gress, and see their speeches,,ctbeir rg e unil,!. dri t i apiece to the paper, inquirin i , a bov;s s , a do,,,,nol•ed teral death. or was skivered vittu a his frlw at iolVii r , hante seen his speeches lately, r enl igbro o to . 046 to / to know his fate. Our free it see 0 0 1 0 16 approbate silent members ;it y obe r l onot ir Squashville, or Punkinville, or 0 _ th ,oci 0 ,, ,d; represented, unless Squashville,. irinottaNso..7-I;',/ bertown, makes itself heard at; (l .. del, ~der,;`, r too. So every feller in boa nnt the 1°" 0 41t 0 0 ,0 4 hi too, and the smaller the Stin y boo 8 0 .0 ;ti p 1/ fiercer its members talk. Welkin the 0 5 1 13 4 el. Os r talk sake, fist to have si s peech 1....4* 0b to .° lh i lle f i , and not or any other airtblY Pug & Sta oil n ill . le our folks call it bunkum. . Ni l°. bees of all 110 great place for bunkum—ts rael°,_oo 04 ( t or with all s"lliois v ilil l 4 to run foul of England, yr' a a t el toy - . it°, d about the boundary line , yote m a , OP litiai r e9 able in pine logs and spruce 13 ° 5 att od I n vi , r 4* and called out a hundred thO uj o iii to sig lit .,o °,ll, go never come) to captor ' a saw. b a bo o id Ji o try that's bunkum—all that &tars at b og -aboa At bunkum. All that brag ttbespecohesoo ii)e, 19 ar eberiff was bunkum. All tue , . web , , ill i t, 4 ° o o line and Creole, and Righ t ? • Coofi res ts 1M.. 05 - short, almost all that's said 0 _ a s p Iy4 (for we set the fashions to them!. j os. milliners) and all Over Agicrica'' in England. Oth, lip; 1 84: Oft i a Ik e . , tb -„ Tti t , ot t 4 qt .7%