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

Etteraturr. POETRY. THE PRIMROSE AND FORGET-ME-NOT. BY MISS CHRISTIANA WELLER. Where sun-beams crept and gaily danc.2d, In sp rtive light, on al' ar nod; Where trembling moon -beams often glanced Along the fairy-ha b.vy'd.round. A pritnros , blos , om'il to the day, Of sweetest perfume, palest dye: The infant Howe 'mid green leaves lay, And z,phyrs san, its lullaby. And time pass'd on, and gently dealt With this fair token of the spring; The chilling blast it scarcely felt, - 'Twas fann'd as by a seraph's wing But o'er it Pity shower'd her dew, In falling drops of crystal light: For well the tearful mourner knew That fleeting—frail, was its delighs, E.-eh morning-ray dispelled the gloom That hung upon the fair one's cheek ; The golden beam rest , red its bloom, And painted it with beauty meek. And noontide's fervour harm'd it not; A canopy of verdant shade Threw freshest charms around the spot : Hope NV, isper'd that it ne'er should fade. Another flow'ret blossom'd nigh, And, mingling fondly. thus they grew; For friendship lent her sympathy, And sweet companionship they knew. They lived, they loved in after days, As, one by one, each joy decay'd When summer's sun withdrew its rays, And winds the darkening skies obey'd. When each fond dream that youth had shown And pictured, fair as earth could know, In one sad hour had vanish'd—flown, And desolation left below. The primrose heard the night winds sigh, And read its doom amid the storm ; Unbroken only was the tie That friendship threw around its form : And. whispefing sweetly from its bower, Ere yet had closed its cheerless lot, It named its g ntle sister flower, And, dying, said—" Forget-me-not 1" " SITTING ON A RAIL," THE LL'S TUNNEL. Hark ! the shrill whistle runs up the L— tunnel—the rope is adjusted—the cap fits roundly upon your head, in stead of your hat—the gleaming red oil light gives its sickly hue to the book in your hand or the face of your vis-a-vis companion. Slow—slowly—less slowly the car riages move on till they break at last into a run, with a rattle, and you are rattled through the dark future, and are only glad that you have already escaped the murky gloom of the sabled past, whilst each successive moment becomes in its turn one of present conflict with the powers of darkness, until the blue light of day gradually expands before you at the tunnel's mouth, with phantasmagoric effect and welcome ! Another scream of the whistle, which like some fabled bird of darkness, throws all its lungs into the loudest embodiment of a hideous sound, distressfully shrill, and seems to rejoice in thus fitfully celebrating the praises of its birth-place. Spirits are generally seen ; thou, tunnel-bird! art only heard, and never seen ; and thy wings must have the stilly flight of thy living and vi sible prototype, the hooting and noiseless owl, or in the gliding whirl of the many wheels, as they skim over the expectant rail, we should sometimes hear them flap and flutter. Thou art truly the creation of the engineer! a Prometheus offspring of his steam and smoke—a being embodied in sound only—invisible—untangible, whilst thy wiry claws scratch at our ear-drums till they are ready to bleed again under the vexatious infliction : yet we know not thy ugly form—too ugly to be revealed perhaps— though we can note down with the accuracy of astonish ment the fiery octaves and the wild wolf-note' of thy murderous din ! A music so severe and spiteful, though blunted in the enshrining column of steam, must owe its origir., and that in the nineteenth century, to the tunnel of out of whose sombre bowels, oh, Earth! that such a fossil echo should ever have been dug! Whirl—whirled upon a rail, through the green fields— below, above—like the Shaksperian witch— " Thorough water, Thorough fire, Thorough brake, Thorough brier"— how we do go along, "sitting on a rail"—quaking over moss and swinging down " inclines;" and after a short look out beneath, over canals and race-courses out-sped every hour by the exploits of subjugated steam, the giant town of M— spreads out its swarthy arms to welcome us to its heaving bosom, whence are belching daily forth clouds of smoke and vapour of smoke—contracted for by the whole island of Great Britain, as to be furnished at the rate of a cubic mile per second, of the best black Egyptian —warranted, as per sample, to contain a variable supply of smuts of the true jetty hue. Well, but leave M— to itself, for gold d us t an d co tt on re fi nements ; l oo k what airy picture sits like a marine r e f rac ti on , on t h e term i nus of a bridge which spans the Stygian river, whose dusky red sides must have been bathed in the thin red tide of the manufactured and manufacturing victims. Ah! this L— terminus is a gem of a place, set picto rially in the jetty frame of mill-work—a pleasing fresco on an ancient wall—a fair relief in cast-iron—a picture in iron and glass, standing out from the hieroglyphic spinning jennies of countless numbers around, plied by incessant bands, and as under Egyptian rigour doing a service " without straw." Here the rail has a rope for a fringe or tassel to pull up by; but then there is no tunnel wherein to take leave of your senses " chem ' , ant." There is some thing pictorial, too, and ente in the construction and nomenclature of some of their carriages : a fine " Divan" for those who divert in smoke; a " Gondola" for pic-nic parties and associated groups; and finally, a " Tourist" for the summer season, when pedestrians and butterflies are out, the former not liking to be inclosed and entombed in a first or second-class carriage, may in this carriage gaze around and above to the heart's content, for they are only " glazed in" in these directions, though their correspond ence below is intercepted by a platform of wood, which is far more satisfactory than if they were invited to a glass seat and foot-stool likewise, as in a diving-bell, especially since they are about to dive into numerous cuttings and tunnels where from any accidental fidgittiness on their seat, it would be a very hard arid irrecoverable penalty to be left behind, the victims of a glass seat and cushion. First we come to " blue pits," which are anything but blue, though dyers might wish they were so; in fact, we don't understand the name, but suppose it an accidental misnomer in the first instance, arid now kept up because it is not so. The sky is not blue ; how then could the wa ter be ? and we defy all the powers of Prussian blue to make it so, A little further on we did see some "red" cloth hanging out to dry, and it was the most pictorial thing in the district ; but we are ready to go before a ma gistrate and aver, that blue was a scarce commodity, ex cept inside our carriage, and that of a flashing order in the " bonnie blue e'en" of the little school-girl in the rail arm chair opposite to us, whose merry pranks and laughter often quickened our own dull circulation. There were sheep, too, further on, but they should have been white, and yet they were not " black sheep," that orthodox variety, we mean, of " ovis," but they were bor dering on black—the best iron-grey we ever saw, and as such we should have set them down in our " notes of rails," but the lambs at their sides frisked about in such white little jackets as at the same time to puzzle and please ourselves, and to discredit their dams somehow or other ! What means " Shut off your steam," unless it signifies " bottle up your courage" paraphrastically; it will be very likely wanted anyhow; for you are approaching the L. tunnel, and there is no escape, so it's no use wishing it. Bottle up your courage, then, and " keep your powder dry." We were sitting reading our newspaper, when all at once ascream from our invisible courier bird alarmed our weak nerves and presaged—what! darkness—and coldness. and horrors! The lettered page remained in our rivetted bands a blank page—the sides of our carriage were obli terated in our vision, and the region beyond the window shot past into darkness, and the stone sleepers jarred and rattled, and the disembowelled tones rung from the vaulted tunnel's roof, and pressed down ruth lessly on our ear, even through the roof of our carriages, until those two organs of sense, eye and ear, gave up in despair their straining contest with din and darkness, and we sat captive and mute, astonished and dumbfounded— rattle and jar from the awakened sleepers—roar of the en gine condensed in the arched domain—chill from the im prisoned damp air trickling from the weeping sides—casual fits of shriek from the unseen friend—palpable darkness to the hand outstretched from the windows—silence within, not a foot or hand stirring from where each traveller last bad them—scarcely a breath drawn, and when taken drawn inaudibly for certain—the heart recoiled back upon itself, the bottled-up courage flagged and fainted—mo ments extended their ordinary brief length into prolix mi nutes, and still on we went, and rattled and whizzed with fearful rapidity, till thought lost its elasticity of wonder ment, and sullenly retired within . its cell, to t r y an d s l eep out the rest of this plunge into darkness, b u t i n va i n . Lo ! the angry flare of a burning torch upheld by one solitary denizen of this awful gutting, stretched out at arm's length, and waved to and fro, seemed like a welcome to our arri val at the dark gates themselves which usher into Ache rontic regions ! Not a question but now we were ushering into the postern-gate of Pluto's state-prison and c itadel ; soon—the next moment probably—earth and its busy scenes would have been left behind for ever, and the irre vocable plunge made into the depths of the lake from whence no mortal had ever been suffered to upspring back again to earth. Here joys sublunary and griefs terrestrial were to be drowned alike in the molten elements below, where even oblivion of the past was to be denied—the last solacedenied to thewick ed—and every past was tobe rivetted and chained in the brazen mirror of immortality ! Father Time seemed to be niggardly counting out his last sands, whilst we recounted them over too, lest he should ser ve us , out with short allowance of our se c o n d s . B oz would have "declined" our position with "ghostly" s kill i nto past, present, and future ten.se,l! e begun rou n dl y with the perfect past — A ; we tried th e present, " Amo," but it faltered o n our tongue ; and the futu re " Amaho," stuck in our throat as a fiction of diseased imagination ; and the echoing sounds of " Peccavi " " Miserere mei," seemed to fit alone the region we ap proached so moodily. " Half of our heavy task was done," however, and that " by the light of the torch so fi tfull y burning." Onwards still rolled our rapid wheels, and other pangs of suspense screwed up our very vitals into nothing; and—just when minutes of agony has drawn uut their laggard length alone, and the mind had made it self up for the worst, and had given up all idea of doine its best, even it it were to realise a calamity—a flare of light laughed upon our dark path, and again the dark curtain fell, just as in the time-annihilating power of thought, " hope" was hegini.ing to tell "a flattering tale"! Another round swell of soft light beamed with a be nigh witch, ry on our benighted eves, and hope danced a;ain, and sent =+ wanner pulsation from our heart. Again a dark period, and then—the angel of light waved its wings at the tunnel's mouth, and wisAed us joy, and grae fully unfolded its cel-stial robe around itself and ourself, and the breath of Heaven again played its refreshing and thrice-welcome truancy on our cheek. Our heart grew rea.surred—our fears, retreating, lost their colossal magnitude, and receded itto midges and imps of darkness; and our organ of veneration grew ex cited to bursting, on once more beholding the April sun shine around us ; and we kissed our hand to that sun, and would have done so to the moon as well, had there b- en a moon visible at the same time, so that in intention of such idolatry, performed actually, i. e. constructively, as Lord Abinger lays down, we have incurred by t his time the cen sure of Job for heathenish practices, an.l yet who could resist the passage of so natural a theology ? Heaven forgive us, in pity ! Our reluctance to leave this world was a proper feeling, especially when we considered ourselves booked for another and not altogether the most agreeable change from this. The Sun was a type of Heaven, and as Heaven's ambassador we doubted nor the credentials of light and love, so we made our salaam to the viceroy, in token of our loyalty to the viceroy's king ! Was there anything wrong in this? If there was, gentle reader, we are glad to find ourselves in the company of poets of all nations and Persian magi. But it is no use reasoning on the matter; it was a matter of pure feeling, and—so—we did . it in our innocence. On regaining the light, we turned to one of our near seated travelling companions ; expressing our own horror at the nature of our route, we enquired if she had been alarmed, expecting that what had given us alarm would in all probability have disturbed the equilibrium of a wo man's mind. She calmly replied, that she had not felt terrified. We then ventured to ask, if she had been this way before. Her reply was in the negative, and we felt ashamed of our lesser courage. Waiting a while, think ing of our own humbler standing, in being frightened when a woman could be courageous —we took the liberty of enquiring if she enjoyed vision in common with my self. Judge of our surprise and relief; our self-respect rose up again, for she told us—she was blind This L. tunnel is a mortal queer place, and a queer part of the story is that, as Miss Edgeworth remarks, asyou enter Ireland, in sailing to Dublin, between two bulls and a blunder, so you enter this tunnel in the teeth of contradiction and irony, and you leave it in a witticism. Thus the village at the mouth is called Littleborough, which is a lie, for we think nearly two miles of tunnelling is a great burrow, and the village at the other side is called Tod-tnorden, which means, if its radicle be German, Death-Murder. But we have done with the tunnel, and its dangers are iescaped. We have been on board ship in a gale, when " sails never bent before were torn to rags," but this tun nel bangs a storm hollow. We don't intend to go down it again without, Esop-like, taking a lantern in our hand, if they wont give us the consolation of one in the roof. On returning on this route the trains have two engines, one to push up the inclines, as if the carriages themselves, as well as passengers, felt some degree of reluct +rice to proceed up hill or down hill to such a " horrid bore"! Down these inclines we now gladly rattled, " shutting off your steam" being the war-hawk placard on the road-side for the engineer. Then the country acquired a romantic and bold character, and the hills and vvolds of Yorkshire, on to Normanton, would repay any tourist ; but he must not forget to " bottle up his courage," whenever " Shut off your steam" meets his eye. After all, the incline on the Gloucester and Birmingham line is the greatest of any in England, we believe. To bestride a town or city or river or valley, or turnpike, is as easy to those railroads as to creep like a mole under a hill, or disembowel a mountain ! Whilst pausing at Normanton, a bumble bee whizzed past our ear, a train arrived in the central line, with its whiz of a whistle lasting for a second or two. We endea voured to discriminate between the sound of the bee al our ear and the more distant whistle of the screamer. We were not a little surprised to find how very difficult it was to detect one sound from another, as, a priori, one would have thought would have been quite easy to do. By the duration of the sound only could we tell. The whistle came suddenly, so did the sweeping flight of the insect ; but the noise ceased too smartly, and this cleared up the doubtful sound, for the hum of the bee we reckoned should have died faintly away as the insect got more and more remote from the ear. It was a trifle, but it was a fact, presenting itself to us ; and it was not a trifle, inas much as it led to a train of reflection upon the unjustify able and unphilosophical scepticism about facts in nature, which we doubt because we have never studied them analogically, and because the guage we test them by is narrower than the field of the subject to be tested. NOTICES. The Manchester KePpsake. _Edited by William Gaspey. Manchester : B. Wheeler. Pp. 78. . - More poetry from Manchester! Why, the place will be as famous for its rhyme-spinners as its cotton-spinners —its weavers of delicate po'.tical fabrics as its manufac turers of silks and muslins! Well, the more the merrier. It is pleasant to find that literature goes hand in hand with commerce. Althon4h Byron says, " It fills the pocket, though it clogs the brain," the brains of most commercial men are clear enough. The present brochure (if such it may be termed) cannot fail to be well received by the lovers of poetry, not only for its very varied contents, but for its neat and pleasing appearance. The getting-up is extremely good, and the typography undeniably excellent. Amongst the contri butors we notice that our fair and accomplished towns woman, Miss Christiana Weller, is nu m b ere d ; a very fanciful and graceful poem from her pen appearing at page 72. The other contributors are Mr. Wm. Gaspey, the editor, (son of the talented author of " Lollard's Lite of Lord Cobham," and other sterling works,) the Itev.J. Davies, A.M., T. J. Ousrley, J. B. Rogerson, Ner Gar diner, Dr. B 'wring, Lord Joh!' M inners, J. E. Carpen ter, Rev. G. Gilfillan, F. Kenipster, Mrs. Criven Green, Mrs. Caulton, Mrs. Thomas, &c. " The Manchester Keepsake" is a very creditable production, and the price places it in the power of every one wishful of making a gentle friend or dear relative a pretty and amusing pre sent, to do so at small cost. We annex the following from its pages : THE CH RISTIA'sT MISSION. BY MAURICE HARCOURT. Oh, God! the cloud of ignorance Hangs over Pagan lands; — Send forth thy messengers of truth To those benighted strands. Cammand the dawn of Gospel- ight Its cheering rays to shed O'er hearts, untouched by Christian grace, To Christian virtues dead. Oh ! may the heralds of thy Word Its saving power proclaim, Inspiring Atric's dusky sons To praise Messiah's name And. as with n the cottage-homes O'er-arched by milder tkies, Beneath the Indian's wigwam rude, May strains or worship rise. Grant that the ice-fields of the north, The prairies of the west, The trackless deserts of the east, May have their altars dressed, — In p ace of flowers. (that might to-day, To-morrow lose their loom —) With hearts that, through the Cross, have won Deliverance trom the tomb. Lord ! bless the ministry of those Who seek, in eve' y clime, For heirs unto Eternoy, Amid the sons of Time; And let salvation's standar ' be On heathen shores untnrl'd, Until the Sun of Righteousness Shine over all the world ! Blackwood's Magazine. The number for the present month is, in our opinion, one of the best that has appeared for a long time, and this is saying much for a periodical which is admitted on all hands to be invariably clever. " The Pirates of Segna," a tale of the Adriatic, founded on historical facts, but wrought up with romantic energy of imagination and great strength and it dlividuality in the portraiture of cha racter is here concluded. We should not be surprised to see it ere long dramatize d, as it is full of striking incident, and would furnish ample scope for scenic effect. An ar ticle on the slate trade—a review of " Fifty Days on board a slave vessel, in 1843." by the key. P. G. Hill, Chap lain to H.M S. Clei pat a, will be read w th interest, riot unmingled wi h deep regret and ;et n-hension of toe un- ' accountable mismanagement of some il our own officers of the racy, in charge of a slave ship captured i ff the coast of Madagascar, about twelve months ago, by which 54 of the poo - slaves were smothered in the hold in one night, and so many afterwards died from consequent suffi , rimr and diseoss , that nearly half of the whole living cargo (450 in all) perished before they could be landed at the Cape of G od H pe ! The reviewer properly remarks, that if this statement a id its consequences be true, the conduct of the persons by whom it was brought a b out (without any ? apparent necessity) ought not to be passed over without inquiry. A pacer, entitled the " Moslem Histories of Spain," is WI of iuteresting historical facts— a succinct and authentic histery in fine of the reign of the Arabs of Cordova, from the p- riod of their conquest of that country, and the consondation of their power under that magnificent and evriiirdinaiy prince Abdurrahroan, to the expulsion, A. 1).. 1036, o f t h e last memb er o f that illustrious dynasts. and a great portion of Afic which Iva I ruled Over Andulus (Spain) ' ~ fir 281 years. The accoun a given by the Moslem r °milder of these histories, Ahmed Al Makkari, of the splendour of toe court and pi1a..f.,.. o f Abdurrahmain,. ,f literature, educaiton, and the line arts, and his bei.ignant policy, both as a his eec wrap-went warrior and a legislator, are extremely curious. "Two Nights in Soothers, Mexico." .iehi!s the peril , endured, in flood and held, by two Amer eat s and their compa nions, on a j• , urney through a most extraordinary portion of that reit arkable country. The descriptions of slnie 0' the sublin e and beautiful sc-nery of the splendid valley of Oaxaca—neatly 3OO leagues in len_th I.—and of the dread ful storm or IA under a-id rain by which the party were overtaken and nearli e.•gulphed, appear to border on the romantic, bet, we believe, are neverthrl, ss not exaggera ted pictures of the diversified It ditties and el mate of that extraordinary portion of the American continent. The next pap r. on " The British Fleet," besides a variety of historic 1 r •miniseei.ces of the pi eere , s and advancement of navigation, ttireugh the seiente, discoverit s, and perse verance of Britons, embodies a meiricir of the lite and character of " the g iilant Jerc s." i. cluiii, g accounts of his psi c pal victor tea. " Altirst it, or the. Met ()its of a States i a `' ' ' , Is to. , tinued, arid it ea: , s In intete•t—lle her, be rig left ;.n h e, il.n. s ter N in t, ti tie guillotine, frown which heaven knows 1;ov h• is ti escape. " Ihe 'Two THE LIVERPOOL• STANDARD. P.iti-ons" is a stay of the liAter and more adiusing de scription, replete with character And quaintness. The nun:l,er coheliplos with an hr iele i,n " Ireland" and the state trials, evid e ntly from the pen of ne who is o•a ,, i';:.r of his subject. The stanzas en "The Child's I,Vdrid , 4 " are pa:hetic and beau itul. A few extracts from ti.:: number will be found in our present sheet. SELECTIONS. AN INCIDENT OF THE REIGN OF LOUIS XIV. (From Torn Burke of " Ours.") I am going somewhat far back in history, but have no fear: on that head, Burke; my story is a very brief one. Pt, re was once upon a time in France a monarch of some repute, called Louis the Fourteenth ; a man, if fame be not unjust, who possessed the most kingly qualities of which we have any record in books. He was brae, mu nificent, high-minded, ardent, se fi-h, cruel, and ungrate ful, beyond any other man in his own dominions ; and, like people with such gifts. he had the good fortune to attach men to him just as firmly and devotedly as though he was not in his heart devoid of every principle of friend ship and affection. I need not tell you what the ladies of his reign thought of him—my present business is with the ruder sex. Among the courtiers of the day was a certain Viscomte Arnoud de Gency • a young man who, at the age of eighteen, won hi s gra d e oicolonel at the siege of Besan con, by an act of coolness and courage worth recording. He deliberately advanced into one of the breaches, and made a sketch of the interior works of the fortification, while the enemy's shot was tearing up the ground around hint. When the deed was reported to the king he inter rupted the relation, saying— " Don't tell me who did this, for I have made De Gengy a colonel for it." So rapidly did Louis guess the author of so daring a feat. From that hour the young colonel's fortune was made. He was appointed one of the gentlemen of the chamber to his majesty, and distinguished by almost daily marks of royal intimacy. His qualities eminently fitted him forthe tone of the society he lived in—he was a most witty con verser, a good musician, and had, moreover, a very hand some person ; gifts not undervalued at " Saint Germain." Such were his social qualities; and so thoroughly did he understand the king's humour, that even La Valliere herself saw the_necessity of retaining him at the court, and, in fact, made a confidant of him on several occasions of difficulty. Still, with all these favours of fortune— when the object of envy to almost all the rest of the house.. hold—Arnoud de Gen) , was suffering in his heart one of the most trying afflictions that can befall a proud man so placed :he was in actual poverty—in want so pressing, that all the efforts he could make, all the contrivances he could practise, were barely sufficient to prevent his misery being public. The taste for splendour in dress and equi page which characterised the period had injured greatly his private fortune; while the habit of high play, which Louis encouraged and liked to see about him, completed his ruin. The s dary of his appointments was merely enough to maintain his daily expenditure ; and thus was he, with a breaking heart, obliged not only to mix in all the reckless gaiety and frivolity of that voluptuous court, but still more, tax his talents and his energies for new themes of pleasure—fresh sources of amusement. Worn out, at length, by the long struggle between his secret sorrow and his pride, he resolved to appeal to the king, and, in a few words, tell his majesty the straits to which he was reduced, and implore his protection. To this he was imoelled not solely on his own account, but on that also of his only child, a boy of eight or nine years old, whose mother died in giving him birth. An occasion soon presented itself. The king had given orders for a hunting parry at St. Cloud ; and, at an early hour of the morning, De Geoff, in his hunting dress, took up his position in one of the ante-chambers through which the king must pass—not alone, however ; at his side there stood a lovely boy, also dressed in the costume of the chase. He wore a velvet doublet of green, slashed with gold, and ornamented by a broad belt, from which hung his couteau de chasse; even to the falcon feather in his cap—nothing was forgotten. He had not waited long when the folding-doors were thrown wide, and a moment after Louis appeared, accom panied by a single attendant, the Marquis de Verneuil, unhappily one of the very few enemies Arnoud possessed in the world. "Ah, De Gency ; you here?" said the king, gaily. " They told me Brelan ' had been unfavourable lately, and that we should not see you." " It is true, sire," said he, with a sad effort at a smile ; " it is only on your majesty fortune always smiles." Pardie ! you must not say so ; I lost a rouleau last night. But whom have we here?" My son, so please you, sire, my only son, who desires, at an earlier stage than even his father did, to serve your majesty." " How like his mother," said the king, pushing back the fair ringlets from the boy's forehead, and gazing almost fondly on his handsome features; "how like her,—she was a Courcelles." " She was, sfre," said Arnoud, as the tears fell on his cheek-bone and coursed slowly along his face. " And you want something for him," said the king, re suming his wonted tone, while he busied himself with his sword-knot; " Is it not so ?" " If I might dare to ask—" " Assuredly you may. The thing is, what can we do ? Eh, Verneuil, what say you ? He is but an infant." "True, sire," replied the marquis, with a look of re spect in which the most subtle could not discover a trait of his sarcastic nature ; " but there is a place vacant." Ah, indeed," said the king quickly. " What is it? he shall have it." " Monsieur Jacotot, your majesty's head cook, stands in need of a turn-pit," said he in a low whisper, only audible to the king. "A turnspit !" said the king ; and scarcely was the word uttered when, as if the irony was his own, he burst into a most immoderate fit of laughter, an emu:lotion that seemed to increase as he endeavoured to repress it ; wben at the instant the cor de chasse, then heard without, gave a new turn to his thoughts ; and he hurried forward with De Verneuil, leaving De Gency and his son rooted to the spot—indignant passion in that heart which despair and sorrow had almost rei , dered callous. His majesty has still laughing as he mounted his barb in the coin t-yard ; and the courtiers, like well-bred gen tlemen, laughed as became them, with that low, quiet laugh which is the - meet chorus of a sovereign's mirth, when suddenly two loud reports. so rapidly following on each oth-r as almost to seem one, startled the glittering c rriege, and even made the Arab courser of the king plunge madly in the air. " Par St. Denis! messieurs," sa'd Louis passionately, "this pleasantry of yours is ill thought of. Who has dared to do this ?" But none spoke. A terrified look around the circle was the only reply to the king's question, whets a page rushed forward, his dress spotted and blood-stained, his face pale with horror— " Your majesty—ah, sire!" said he, kneeling; but sobs choked him, and he could not utter more. " What is this ?—wil no one tell ?" cried the king, as a frown of dark omen shadowed his angry features. " Y-ur majesty has 10-t a brave, air honest, and a faith ful fo'lower, sire," said Monsieur de Coulanges. "Arnoud de Gency is no more." " Why, I saw him this instant," said the king. "He asked me some favour for his boy." " True, sire," replied D: Coulanges mournfully ; but he checked himself in time; for already the well-known and dreaded expression of passion had mounted to the king's 'ace. `• D•smi-s the chasse,' gentlemen," said he. in a low, thick voice ; " and do you, Monsieur de Verneuil, attend me " Tha cortege was soon scattered ; and the Marquis de Verneuil fobowed the king, with an expression where tear and dreg I were not to be mist ken. Moos,eur de Verneuil did indeed seem an altered man when he appeared amo g his friends that evening. What ever the king had said to him assuredly bad worked its due efr-ct; for all his radlery was gone ; and even the veriest trifler of the party might have dared an encounter with wits, which then were subdued and broken. Next morn ing, however, the sun shone out brilliantly. The king was in high spirits, the game abounded ; and his majesty with his own hand brought down eight pheasants. The Marquis de Verneuil could hit nothing ; for although the best marksman of the day, hi- hand shook, and his sight faded him ; and the king won fifty louis from him before thy reached Saii.t Germain. Never was there a happier day, nor followed by a plea santer evening. The king supped in Madame de la Vailiere's apartment; the private band played the most delkious airs during the repa-t ; and when at length the party retired to rest, not one bright dream was clouded by the memory of Arnoud de Gency. ANTIQUITY OF HERALDRY.—There can be little doubt hut that, with all its absurdities heraldry is a most an cient science. The twelve Hebrew tribes bore on their banners insignia, under which the dying patriarch Jacoll had typified them (Gen. xlix.) The supporters of our own national arms were regal emblems, even in the days of Balasm. When that bold bad man would speak of the victories and power of Israel, he selects those two animals in illustration (Numbers xxiii. 22, 24 ; xxiv. 8, 9)—the lion, as the emblem of conquest; the unicorn, that of strength. —Dublin University Magazine. WHAT SHOULD BE DONE WITH THE CONVICTED CON VICTED CONSPIRATORS ?—Whatever sentence the judges of the land pronounce upon the convicted conspirators, let it be enforced. The purity of that bench—which is not the less unsullied that the rancour of party spirit has dared to a , perse it—will not visit their crime with any strained infliction. They will be treated like other men so c rcurnstanced. See to it, then, that you mitigate not heir doom, as you would not that of others. Let not Irsh treason have favour that is withheld from English. Let riot popery press her claim, that a divided allegiance may excuse di s l o y a l t y, an d b e no t l en i en t t o the papist .here you have been merciless to the protestant. This point, so insig n ifi can t i n some respec t s , i s a ll-important titers. For the individuats we care nothing; or, if we lia%e any feeling, it is the ordinary one of regret, that men education and position should have compromised them selves and their lib er t y b y a course o f wan ton agitation arid. disturbance. Bnt for the cause of peace, for the hope ~f future advantage to Ireland, for the success of that better state we look for with longing and anxiety, we say, punish the evil-doers, set men an example of the fruits of b l h ousdisiurbanc e . D sahuse the peasant mind of the invomerability of their arch deceiver. Let them know that lie who boaeted the fertility of his wiles, has found tre law t‘ , o strong for him. Show them the libellous dis seniina,ors of rebellion in rhyme, and prose treason, at t re bar: ot Kilnisinharn; Let the " Freeman" be a mis t , er as palpable as the " Nation," or the " Pilot." Do this, and your . measur e o f conc i l i at i on— i f suc h a nam e coney he Elise inipressio n will " s h ow th a t yo u can be e e nos wh 1N j ust, and that a sense of right, whether t or re yrsrii, is arming , the char acteristics of your Coo try. —Dublin University Magazine. SECOND EDITION. Standard•ofice, Three o'clock. LIVERPOOL COTTON MARKET.—Tnrs DAY. A decidedly good Tuesday's demand for Cotton, and fully 4000 bales have been sold entirely to the trade at full market prices current yesterday, viz., an advance of ltd. per lb. on the lowest point of Thursday last. LIVERPOOL CORN EXCHANGE, This DAY <From Messrs. R. Makin & Sons' Circular.) The fall in the duty on Foreign Wheat and Flour, as intimated in the foregoing r-port, has been confirmed ; that on all other produce remaining stationary here until Friday next. The arrivals into this port, Coastwise and from Ireland, were altogether trivial up to the close of last week ; and except Malt and Flour, of which we have a good supply fresh in for to-day, that of other articles thence is still very moderate ; the imports of Foreign produce, during the same period, consisting of Wheat and Beans, chiefly Egyptian, with a few parcels of Oats from Embden, and 7219 barrels of Flour from the American States. In consequence of the improved aspect of the Wheat trade in some of the inland markets last week, anticipa tions of a more lively character were entertained here ; but the advices received this morning from Mark-lane, serving rather to check than to promote any extensive business, the transactions in this branch of the trade to day were to a moderate amount only ; good samples of Irish Wheat, however, were id. per 701 b. dearer, whilst English and Foreign, though held with unabated firmness, scarcely exceeded the rates of this day se'nnight. Simi lar remarks are applicable to Flour, of all descriptions. Barley and Malt, upon a limited demand, remained unaltered in value. Beans and Pease, attended with a moderate sale to consumers, supported former prices. Oats and Oatmeal were in some, but by no means lively request, at our last quotations. In bonded or floating produce, no sales transpired this morning. ARRIVALS OF CORN, From the 2nd to the Bth April, 1814, inclusive. IRE- COAST• CANADA F°- TOTAL LAND. WISE. REIGN. Wheat .. ... Ors. I 1228 183 2623 4064 Barley .. Qrs. I 142 142 Malt Qrs. 47 2611 2658 Oats Qrs. 849 933 1782 Rye Qrs. Beans Qrs. 272 540 1920 2732 Pease Qrs. 175 175 ShelledßarleyQrs. Indian Corn. Qrs. , Rapeseed Qrs. Oatmeal .. Loads 1992 63 2055 Flour. .... Sacks 4394 1330 1 5724 Ditto Brls. 7219 7219 EXPORTS.—Foreign. Malt, qrs. ; Oats. qrs. ; Pease, qrs.; Indian Corn, 0 qrs.; Oatmeal, 0 loads ; Flour, 6 EXPORTS.—Foreign. Malt, qrs. ; Oats. qrs. ; Pease, qrs. ; Indian Corn. 0 qrs. ; Oatmeal, 0 loads ; Flour, 6 brls.--Ireland Wheat, 15 qrs.: Oats. qrs ; Indian Corn, 60 qrs. ; Oatmeal, loads ; Flour, sacks, brls.— Coastwise. Wheat, 393 qrs. ; Barley, 15 qrs. ; Malt, 54 qrs.; Oats. 12 qrs. ; Beans, 0 qrs. ; Pease, 31 qrs. ; Oatmeal, 70 loads ; Flour, 262 sacks 85 brls. Average prices of Grain, for the week ending March 30, 1944 Wheat 565. sd. 1 Barley 325. 7d. 1 Oats .. 19s. Bd. 1 Rye 335. 3d. Beans.. 3:s. 2d. 1 Pease.. 315. od. Aggregate average of the six weeks. Wheat 56s Id I Barley 33s 3d I Oats I9s 11d. Rye 33s 10d Beans.. 30s. 11 d. j Pease.. 313. 2d. Duty on Foreign Grain, &c. this week. Wheatlas od I Barley 5s Od I Oats .. . 7s Od Rye.. gs 6d Roans lOs 6d Pease .. 10s 6d Ind. Corn Os Od I Flour gs Ditto from British Colonies out of Europe. Wheat.. Is. Od. I Barley.. os. 6d. I Oats .. 2s. Od. I Rye.. Is Od Beans 2s. 6d I Pease 2s. od. I Ind. Corn os. od. I Flour .. Os 74d Liverpool Averages, week ending 26th March, 1844. Wheat, 3647 qrs., price, Sls. Id.; Barley, 33 qrs., price, 31s. Id.; Oats, 1416 qrs., price 18s. 4d.; Rye, qrs., price, —s. Beans, 387 qrs.; price, 325. Od.; Pease, 3 qrs, price, 41s. I look upon death to be as necessary to our constitutions as sleep. We shall rise refreshed in the morning.—Dr. Franklin. CAUSE OF A SUSPICIOUS DISPOSITION.—One thing you will learn fast enough in the world, for it is potent in such teaching—that is, to be suspicious. Oh cast from you for ever the hateful lesson. Men do not think how much of their innocency they are laying down, when they assume a clothing whose texture is guile. Beware of this mock protection ; for you can hardly use it without prac tising deceit. I do not ask you to trust always ' • but I would have you think well of me n un til y ou fi n d then) otherwise. When you are once deceived, either by an acted or a spoken falsehood, trust that person no more. I bad it once laid down to me as an axiom, by a very dear friend, (and I am so satisfied of the precept s truth as to make it a rule of my life) that, persons rarely suspect others except of things which they are capable of doing themselves. Yes ; these shadows of doubting are generally flung from some bad realities within. You are looking at your own image when you see so much vileness in your neighbour's face. How much better might not we our selves become, if we used more largely to others that blessed charity which thinketh no evil !—Dublin Univer ity Magazine. THE SLAVE TRADE.—We fully believe that, if we were to look for the deepest misery that was ever inflicted in this world, and the greatest mass of it, we should find it in the slave trade. It is the misery, not as in civilized life, of scattered individuals, but of multitudes, and a misery comprehending every other; sudden separation from every tie of the human heart, parent, child, spouse, and country; the misery of bodily affliction, disease, fa mine, storms, shipwreck, and ultimately slavery, with all its wretchedness of toil and tyranny for life. We cer tainly do not think it our duty to go to war for the object of teaching humanity to other nations. We must not at tempt to heal the calamity of the African by the greatest of all calamities and crimes—an unnecessary war. But England has only to persevere sincerely and steadily, however calmly, and she will. by the blessing of that su preme disposer of the ways of men, who desires the hap piness of all his creatures, succeed in the extinction of a traffic which has brought a curse, and brings it at this hour, and will bring it deeper still, upon every nation which insults the laws of humanity and the dictates of religion, by dealing in the flesh and blood of man.—Black wood's Magazine. EFFECT OF A CONCILIATORY POLICY.—The other road is indeed open to you, and we fear you show too many leanings towards it, that admirable legacy the whip; be queathed you—Conciliation. Popery may be pampered ; treason caressed; the loyalty of those who it is supposed must be true under every dt feat and under every discou ragement may be insulted ; the repealers may receive that mild correction which evinces love and affection rather that, anger, and a few years more of disturbance purchased without the final result being attained. For this course, apparently, you are prepared. Like Eugene Aram you are " equal to either fortune." You have so trimmed your sails that you can stand out to sea, or sun for shore, as you deem fit. Already your declarations in parlia ment give a foretaste of your intentions. With what shrinking delicacy you receded from any defence of pro tet•tantism on the ground of its truth ; with what sensitive tendeeness you avoided attributing any corruption to Romanism, or idolatry to popery. How admirably just . — what Irish justice !—your letter to Lord de Gray regard ing Mr. Howley's appointment, that of two men equally qualified the Roman catholic should be preferred, because of the previous disabilities under which he rose to the equality. And so, because one man has embraced christi anity according to the state religion, and another in oppo sition to its avowed preference, this latter is more to be tru,ted, sooner employed, and higher honoured for his opposition sake—the question of eternal truth or false hood, either way, being a matter quite beside the point, and one which, not to ruffle certain susceptibilities, muss no t be agitated at all. You may follow this path—is is smooth worn and easy—Lord Normanby's footsteps are still there to guide you ; but we would ask you, is at as safe for you as for him; can you do with impunity the acts he performed with such success? No : very differ ent are the hopes men conceive of your government. They know you to be independent of that faction by whose aid your rivals held places; they hope, as you have the power, you may have the will to be honest. They regard you as the depository of that trust which secures to them the advantages of their free constitution, and the enjoy ment of that r eli g i ous trut h w hi c h you have sworn to up hold. Take care that you betray not these expectations; take care, lest in your efforts to conciliate the traitor you discourage the true man; above all things, take care lest you suffer this miserable land to linger on under the slow and consuming fever of decay. If concessions are to be made, make them ; if the axe is to be laid to the root of the tree, do not begin by lopping off the branches; if you mean to remodel the social system of our island, let us not first moulder away to ruin ; do not halt between two opinions. " I would that you were cold or hot." The capricious bestowal of the patronage of the crown mav, for a time, stimulate that even-handed justice it affects to be; but men grow weary of this at last. The zealous and the active grieve to see that the rewards of government are bestowed upon the cautious and expectant psi tcian slat, consults his ease and his interest together, and who, by doing nothing for his country, does every thing for him self. Every country abounds in such " artful dodgers" of politics, but their promotion disgusts honest men of all parties. Take care then—the time is creeping on—some vague assurances of respect for the church as by law esta blished, and for the rights of property generally, will nut suffice. Men are begtnning even now to exclaio.— Quousque tandem Catilina abuteris patentia rostra? Approach your to-k in a spirit f detsruonation, and re sol, e that, acting under the di, tates of that ronstit uti^rr von hare scorn to d fend, you will govern Ireland. — Dublin University Illoyazi,e. I A LANDSCAPE IN SOUTH AMERICA.—A new and s beautiful landscape burst suddenly upon our view, seeming to dance in the transparent atmosphere. On either side mountains, those on the left in d"ep sha dow, those on the right standing forth like colossal figures of light, in a beauty and splendour that s,-e ned re illy su pernatural, every tree, every branch shining in its own vivid and glorious colouring.. There lay the valley in it!) tropical luxuriance and beauty, one sheet of bloom and blossom up to the topmast crown of the palm trees, that shot up, some of them a hundred and fifty and a hundred and eighty feet high. Thousands and millions of con volvoluses, paulinias. bignonias, nendrohiums, climbing from the fern to the tree trunks, from the trunks to the branches and summits of the trees, and thence again fall ing gracefully down, and catching and clinging to the mangroves and blocks of granite. It burst upon us like a scene of enchantment, as we emerged from the darkness of the forest into the dazzling light and colouring of that glorious valley.—" Two Nights in Mexico," in Black wood. THE QUARTERS OF LIFE.—The seven ages of man have become proverbial : but in respect of the condition of our minds, there are granted to the best of us hut four periods of life. The first fifteen years are childhood. We know nothing—we hope. The next fifteen are passion and romance—we dream. During the third period of fif teen years, from thirty to forty-five, we are what nature intended us to be. Character has formed : we pursue a course of life; we reason ; we meditate. This is the pe riod in which we may be said with most propriety to live. The fourth period is that of commencing decay. We may grow wiser ; but it is the wisdom that speaks in a shake of the head. Pain and penitence begin —we sorrow. Ne vertheless, if the third period has been passed in pro viding against the fourth, nature is changed, our declining years are lighted with happiness and love, and as they ap proach their destined end, instead of the gloom naturally accompanying decay, they are tinged with a ray from be fore them, the shadows are cast behind us on our path, feelings spring up, unfelt even in the magic periods first traversed by us—we rejoice. —Dublin University Mag. ORIGINAL STYLE OF Boz.—Boz has achieved a great thing—he Ilas created a STYLE. Perhaps lam wrong to say created—a term which implies independence of .materials —whereas the singular circumstance in this case is, that by careful study of previous styles, by imitation of them, by more, perhaps, than by imitation in the first instance, this author has produced out of the heterogeneous ele ments a compound essentially differing from all its com ponent parts, and claiming—claiming justly—the high merit of being original. That such a result should follow such a course ought to encourage writers who aim at true celebrity, to adopt this humble and painstaking initiatory system, which though in other arts it has admittedly led to the grandest results (in painting for instance) in litera ture has been too much overlooked and despised. Boz now stands alone in his style, he has had no models, he has no imitators, he will probably have no disciples. But, besides this, he has a moral code of his own, akin to no other, except, perhaps, that of Sterne, from whom he appears in part to have derived it. The exquisite ap preciation of the finer phases of feeling, the employment of the most wayward humour in forming character, the undeviating firmness of a humility which acknowledges and courts no elevation but that of the heart, the humanity, the simple pathos, the brevity of expression even, and the sly yet innocent comicality which enlivens the whole—all these are to be found in Sterne, but are transferred to Boz with so much of transmutation as to shine a different substance, having got rid of one alloy in the process— affectation, the great depreciatory ingredient in the metal run from Yorick's skull. I have been led to remark these peculiarities from having found in the " Christmas Carol," illustrations of them all on a small scale. Chuzzlewit is an improvement on Box's former novels—it is stronger, more fearless, more condensed, more masterly. The Carol exceeds Chuzzlewit in the exquisite moral, and rivals it in its other qualities. Not even Sir 'Walter Scott's wholesomest fictions ever left a healthier flush upon the mind than does the perusal of this "tin)" vo lume. We rise from it, happy, smiling, and good ; ani mated with benevolence and charity. We have been obliged to sob as we laughed, and to chuckle through our tears. It softens and subdues the heart, and preaches powerfully though indirectly that creed which in the breasts of the best of us is acknowledged and adored as Christian. Let this eminent man continue to instruct and benefit while he delights us. It is thus that fiction may lay claim to be called literature, and its authors earn a niche—more than a niche—a chapel, in the temple of Fame.—Dublin University Magazine. THE LATE STATE TRlALS.—Blackwood for this month, after combatting the desperate attempts made to fasten charges of unfairness " on the fairest of all recorded trials," thus winds up. " And with an interest so keen in promoting the belief of some unfairness, was there ever yet a trial that could have satisfied the losing party ? Losers have a proverbial privilege for being out of tem per. But in this case more is sought than the mere grati fication of wrath. Fresh hopes spring up in every stage of this protracted contest, and they are all equally ground less. First, Mr. O'Connell was not to be arrested : it was impossible and absurd to suppose it. Next, being arrested, he was not to be tried. We must all remember the many assurances in Dublin papers—that all was done to save appearances, but that no trial would take place. Then, when it was past denial that the trial had really begun, it was to break down on grounds past numbering. Finally, the jury would never dare to record a verdict of guilty. This, however, being actually done, then was Mr. O'Connell to bring writs of error ; he was to " take the sense" of the whole Irish bench ; and, having taken all that, he was to take the sense of the Lords. And after all these things were accomplished. finally (as we then undeismod it) he was to take himself off in the direction pointed out by the judges. But we find that he has not yet reconciled himself to that. Intimations come out at intervals that the judges will never dare to pass any but a nominal sentence upon him. We conclude , that all these endless conflicts with the legal necessities of his case are the mere gasconades of Irish newspapers, addressing themselves to provincial readers. Were there reason to surprise them authorised by the repeaters. there would be still higher argument for what we are going to say. But under any circumstances, we agree with the opinion ex pressed dispassionately and seasonably by the Times newspaper—that judgment must be executed in this case. We agree with that journal—that the nation requires it as a homage rendered necessary to the violated majesty of law. Nobody wishes that, at Mr. O'Connell's age, any severe punishment should be inflicted. Nobody will mis understand, in such a case, the mitigation of the sentence. The very absence of all claim to mitigation, makes it im possible to mistake the motive to lenity in his case. But judgment must be done on Cawdor. Two aggravations, and heavy ones, of the offence have occurred even since the trial. One is the t Jne of defiance still maintained by newspapers under his control. Already, with one voice, they are ready to assure the country, in case of the sen tence being incommensurate to the case, that government wished to be severe, but had not courage for the rff , rt ; and that government dares not enforce the sentence. The other aggravation lies in this—that he, a convicted con spirator. has presumed to take his seat amongst the sena tors of the land—' Venit in senaturn, fit particeps . Yet Ca.il ne, bete denounced to the publ c rage, was not a convicted conspirator ; and even his conspiracy rests very much on the word of an enemy. It is true that, in some formal sense, a man's conviction is not complete in our law until sentence has been pronounced. Brit this makes no re .1 difference as to the scandalous affront which Mr. O'Connell has thus put upon the laws of tie land. And in that view it is, viz. as an atonement for the many outrages offered to the laws, that the nation waits for the consummation of this public examp'e." WILLIAM AND MARY HOWlTT.—William Howitt is one of six brothers. He was educated at different schools of the Fiends ; but, as we have frequently heard him de clare, was much more indebted to a steady practice of self instruction than to any -chool or teacher whatever. He early showed a predilection fot poetry ; and in a periodical of that day, called " Litera.y R. creatioi.s," a copy of some verses " On Spring." may be tound, stated ,o be by " William Howitt. a boy thir een yas of age." During the time that he was not at school, he was accustomed, with his eldest brother, to stroll all ove r t h e c untrv, shooting, coursing, a n d fishing, with an indefatigable zeal which would have delighted any of the Nimrods from whom lie was descended. As a boy, he had neen an eager birds' nester; and these after-pursuits, together with a strong poetical temperament, and a keen perception of he beauties of nature, made hm familiar with all the haunts, recesses, productions, af.d creatures of the coun try. In this mlnner the greatest p frtiod of his early life was spent. Af er he arrived at manhood. however, those pleasures were blended with en active study of chemistry, botany, natural and mord phito-ophy, and of the works of the best writers of It , ly, France, and his own country. He also turned the attention of his y , ungest brother, now Dr. Howitt, to the study of British botany ; and the doc tor has since prosecuted it with more constancy and suc cess than himself. General literature and poetry soon drew his attention more forcibly; and his marriage, in his twenty-eighth year, no &tub' riatirally contr buti-d to strengthen this tendency. The I idy of his choice was Miss Mary Botham, of Uttoxeter, in Staffordshire, also the publu a•; the delightful ant oress, Howirr. a member of the Society of Friends, and now familiar to Soon a'ter their marriage, they undertook a walk into Scotland, having long admired warmly the ballad poetry and traditions of that country. lii this nimble, after landing at Dumbartin, they went on over mountain and mootland a herever they proposed to e n, for one thonsand miles, walking more than five hundred of it—Mrs. Howitt performing the journey without fatigue Th ty cro ,, ed Ben Lomond without a gu de, and. after enjoying the most magnificent spectacle of toe t lond.e.t n a ely elyoud. ing and breaking away from the chaos of motLitains around them, were enveloped by a de fs • cloud, and o n l y able to effect their descent with great difficul y a n d w i th considerable hazard. They visit-t 1 Loch K ttrne, S tir. ling, Editibur2h, and all tie beau , iful scern , ry 'or m . .ny mfl s row .d ; traver-ed Fifeshire ; and Len, taking Abbotsford in the r route, walked throfth the more south-rrt parts, visiting many places intere.: , it , g 'or the 't i u them in th e histor cal or poetic associ”t otis, on to G retna Green, where all the viltgets tamed out brimf u l o f mirth sup e po ing they were come t her e to b e married, e.Teci.illy a s they entered the puolic-hone where suc h matches are completed. a ov:k",,rYeest, Carlisle.hanoe oyed the most delightf u l j ourney Soon a , tur t . teir return t t uy sett ed i n Nottligham ; Mr. n,l y ieturned by way of the English a have beta likes, n4a ,e they They to n p ty t thutteh actively f . ll2,itt, fi in business, still de vo ine 1,14 it i-ure h .tire to Met Pry pursuits. Here th e y soon 1 .1.1)1 , tot d an. tier j i'it volume of p,,ern called •.'l•h.. Des lattott of received with equal layout' by the poI c. The att..ntioo vai h these tw V excit-d t , touaa many frnt rah. edit°, s of annual. and n auPzioe,; and but h M.. and Mr . tlowit, for s.m.e yer,r, c t ilnit.•.l a ;.r at vs ratty of it t cles to these p.rtui. • jV a I ,, ns. c,tl SNirte of Me Aye, April 9, 1844. COAIMISSIONEi.S OF BIRKENHEAD. On Tuesday evening, the usual monthly meetim , of the Com missi , ners c t B 'it-On-ad was held at the Town' hall. John Deane Case, Fsq.. prt-siot d. The CHAIRMAN opened the business of the evening 10 alluding to what he aLeged to be a misrepresentation is the Mail resp cting the case of Captain Judkins, a g ell i tle man who had begin accu-ed of smoking on board one o f the p , ickets. tie also stated that there were some remark; in the STANDARD on the subject, but he did not complain of them. The Watch Committee repotted that two d the senior officers had been found drunk. Mr. W. JACKSON censured the committee for not hoc" ing taken some decisive steps when they had discovered the drunkenness. The Fire Committee reported that the new boat, the Queen, was now completed and ready for work, and that the receipts of the Ferry for the past month had show! satisfactory increase. Upon the motion of Mr. W. JACKSON, Messrs. Stang' field, Cole, and Hind were appointed auditors of the, ferry accounts, preparatory to the same being su bmittea to the Clerk of the Peace. Mr. JACKSON said that more money would not be re quired for some time, but that they should not take more' if his suggestions were adopted, at a higher rate of rote' rest than four per cent. (Hear, hea r .) H e was a ° . prepared at present to bring forward the reduction of tol ferry -rates ; but his view was, that they would be enabled to reduce the rates to contractors as follows : -205. adults, and 10s. for every one belonging to each lama!' and by the Ist of January he hoped to be able to reclueo the rate across to ld. for children, and all besides. The Road Committee were requested to obtain esti mates for six water-carts, and the cost of making thet a ' against the next general meeting. The Market Committee were authorised to look out for a suitable site for an additio n al wei g hi ng mac hi ne ; and also for a convenient site upon which to erect a bridevie° and magistrates' room. A memorial to the Post-office authorities was adopted , praying them to continue the mail which reaches Birketr head at seven o'clock in the evening, and not, as proposed , to take it off at Harford, and to convey it from thence, by gig, to Chester. aLchonaoud M drndop r tnea . sers W. JAcxsoN rep or t e d th a t th e M on k s F err y biu Shaftesbury. passed orst ett strong nuog ry. saving Commonsil principal c l auses h a d b een re tained & ch opposition aadusoensnot unanimously, e ttbhhaee dsblpart been e slightest oefs after introduced havinghde. doubt b iLiverpool e arbp ea' t oyti Ccrporation. All th e their obtaining, in the present session, a bill for the coo' struction of docks at Wallasey Pool ;—(hear, hear) and, while he was speaking on this subject, he might es well add, that the estimate for the dock, about which so much was said, had been gone into by several most ea+ nent contractors. One of them, Mr. Tomkinson, of Liverpool, was anxious to ge t th e con t rac t man y thou sands below the estimates. Mr. Brassy would take it at even less. Another individual would take it many thou sands less than Mr. Tomkinson, and a fourth would take it for less than him again. (Hear, hear.) H e bad, moreover, the opinion of Mr. Cubitt that it was practi cable for the amount specified ' • and they had those four eminent contra c t ors w h o would execute the work for less than the amount stated in the original estimates. (Hear, hear.) _ _ The subject here dropped, and the board adjourned. MEETING OF THE TOXTETH OPERATIVE PROTESTANT ASSOCIATION. The half-yearly meeting of this association, held the week before last at the Toxteth-Hall, was so numerously attended that many pers on S cou ld no t o b ta i n a d m i ttance shortly after the opening of the doors. The Rev. Henn M'Nereat presided ; and We noticed present the Rev. Messrs. Nolan, Butler, Irvine, and Lea, and Councillors Glaze.. brook, Sheppard, Trotrnan, &c. The proceedings opened with prayer, after which the Rev. Chairman addressed the meeting at great length, and with much energy ; but we regret that, on account of our Assize reports, we can only afford room for an outline. He began by stating that it was written in the Book of Proverb that " as iron sbarp , -, eneth iron, so does the c o un t enance o f a man hi s fr i en d,. and as the weapons of th e i r Ch r i s ti an war f are requ i r ed sharpening, and to be kept sharp, they met from time to time for this, amongst other reasons,—that every man's countenance might sharpen hisfriend to increased activity so as to counteract the efforts of those whose business A seemed to be to blunt every thing. There were owl who seemed in these times to be trying to deal with di vine truth as masters of gymnasties did with the fag, when they fixed corks upon the points of them so that they might not take effect; or. as when they put stuffea gloves on little boys to teach them to box and fight- 41 muffled sort of battle. Now, what would the meeting think of soldiers in her gracious Majesty's service who muffled up their swords so th a t th ey wou ld not cut; their guns so that they would not shoot ; their drums that they would not beat, or their trumpets that they would give but an uncertain sound? Why, that they were traitors for thus rendering their weapons useless, while wearing her Majesty's livery and taking her pay. But what would they say of soldiers of a greater than her Majesty, and _t pledged to be faithful,—and not only the clergy but the laity were the soldiers of Christ,—what would they say of those who would muffle up the bright blade of the law 0 : the Lord, so that it carried no conviction to conscienrat l and eand trumpetwho would wo so d mufflegiv e forth h the n euvnerclearsttaiinng sound, and ed carry no consolation to the heart of a poor Con an _ ere w hat ßo m tha m t it d pe o n in it g en n t o . ,. (H T e h ar e , y a m nd uifi ch e e d ers t . h ) e T ja h w is o w f as adodthev muffled brought no convictio n to the conscience, '„„ i nents, so that it carried no consolation to the, beset. it up the gospel, mixin g it with ecclesiastiCai arrallh• • e time they should conside the real nature of the Protest antism they were defending, and not be misled by names; for there were enemies abroad, who said that Protestant ism was only a name and a cloak for party politics. 1 t there were any such pees-nt, they would hear him with impatience, for they would rather see the meeting all op, the move about some party politics, and abusing the anti protestants of the nation. But he would tell such persona that all the parliaments in the world could neither make nor mar a real Protestant, because a true Protestant was of God's own making and k4ep ng. (Cheers.) The Pro testantism they met to defind was of the geriwne sort; it lay at the foundation of happiness here, and of salvation hereafter. What, he asked, had given power and strangtb to the English netion? Nit the name, but the reality of Protestantism. If they had had only nominal Protestants at first, they wou'd never hav- hid the reformation; for was beau nominal Protestant s would have shrunk from the trials to which true Protestants were exposed ie the reign o Queea Mary, and denied all they had b-foie said to save their necks. But they lead real Protestan s then—real Pro' testant people, and real Protestant bishops; and when Mary tried, and put forth her powers to try them, they proved themselves true men, and sufficient to light up candle in England that was never yet out. (Cheers.) These men had riot the parliament on their side—nor the Queen, w h o was h erse lf a R oman C atholic—nor the , sol diers. They had b u t a f ew f a i thfu l sound-hearted oe-es oho loved the Lord Je-us, who believed in the docirlu "ee of Christianity. who p reac h e d t h em , w h o d e d a t t h e St to maintain them, and who handed them down to Pos te ; rity in their articles and homilies. Such were the /L e d who exi s ted at th e ti me o f t h e g l or i ous re f orma t'" : what had th e y no w ? T a lk o f l'r4testatitisna being in . dan- ger. No such thing. T a lk ,•f Popery being erea-e. Let it increase; what h a d the y to fear from t t Talk of ceit tin me n b eing 1.-d a w a y, and g oing to Rome. Let them go, and peace he wi , h them. (Hear, and a laueh.) We wanted not such people. Many people talked of being afraid of Popery nod Puseyi m. H e was no t afraid of either of them. In the name of th e L or d G o d of Israel he defied them ail. 'I he alnut of the conqu eror became the true on thee 1 i ll_ fellower of (Mist, for his captain had borne the but den and h at of the day, and carried the strong-hold of the enemy. And here they were in (TV" silioti to the ('hatch of home, for she was still in bond age, and had n it achi-ved the victory —neither had bet saints. Tee rev. gentlem n here referred to a little book which he held in his hand, which contained a description of one of the Roman Catholic saints—made so late 5 1830. By the bye he saw they were going to make a saint of O'Connell—a queer sort of canonization—St. Daniel the First. (Great laughter.) He would read to the° what O'Connell would hare to do when lie became a saint. from the account given in that little book of a man who was a cardinal, and was put on the 1 st far nis great vir tues in 1830. The author said, " I know for a certainty that he constantly scourged himself;" well, perhaps, be deserved it. It was no part of the Christian's duty to scourge himseV, for where was it enjoined in the Bible. " Bloodily, arid s metimes unbloodity, he scourged him' stlf." He read other passages describ , eg the frequent flagellations which the saint gave himself morning, noono H Yer i sc in iine . ss'o H fw e hthi a ce ll i uded in st rong l anguage to t he and night, showing the on e I a ßw i i e c ed h ree o e l m y t oe s rb t , a ei t n e a o tto f hioi t es h de e fw, ll. ,hr o o rn opn i s mind, even in the pres en t d a y: B ut flagellations cou ld ui er w t t not h he ro i g i r r h p a e a t the a e i w i i na apathy of parliament in the premulgation of the Christian, religion amongst th e peop l e; likened it to the conduct o f the man who, when his children cried for bread, should give them a stone, and wound up by an affecting ant tian and most eloquent appeal to all true Protestants tv stand by the faith of their fathers, as the only sound basil of happiness here and salvation hereafter. The Rev. Mr. BUTLER then addressed the meeting 9 , considerable length, imploring them to rouse from the , ' indolence, and illustrating his argument by an anecdot e • related in Catlin's account of the North Americanln dians, showing that a lesson might be derived even fro , ' savage life not to be misled by the evil genius, but to cling to that which was good. What alone they had to do was to abide by the Gospel. The lieu. Thomas NOLAN followed him in a powerful address in behalt of Protestantism. The object of the; meetings was to sr t i l e and establish in their faith. li eluded to the ne t o f union between England and Ireland' shoeing that the chutches of both were our united chafe b ; and that the chu chin I re l an d must b e ma i nta i ne d be ts • integrity against all ma c hi na ti ons aga i nst h er, inastnee as all inj ur y coil]. I not he sustained by on e w i t h ou t a co t ' r.sprineineweakness being felt by the other. The leadi n ea' , principle of Roniatiism was hostility to th e simplicity awe easily understood doctrines of Protestantism. I t° ,. e . aimed, by the most insidious means, at universal sun_ macv ; tire ruling of tier dupes by tyranny the m ost . r . vi t niorseless, an t i th e crus hi ng o f t h ose who stood by gntit truth. The Protes ants of Ireland deserved the warafT o , syn pat hies of the Christian population of E n gland. •, al uuttig to p a rli a me e t, h e l amente d that P rotestan t eta 7 d men had not peen more tru e t o th e i r pre f e ssionat2 to concluded an eloquent appeal by calling upon them cling to the g ood raise f or th e sake o f themse l v es a as their tie g , hoors. er/ Mr. t. PPA an proposed, i n a hi g hl y compliment o u b e ing sp-ech, a tote of thanks to th e Ch a i rm an. ac' lar Mr. onotil.or Trotm was carried :tha, claucatam, at., abl % res t noted to, after which the a,6eu.bloge peaceably d spetseJ.