The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1847-09-07 00:00:00

MIN KEET, Manche 'ter, August, 1847 TRANSITION FROM ABUNDA principal Is love in all his ways : He blesseth us, and feedeth Ev'ry creature of his ham d hills, and valleys Re-echo the glad voice I ar him that r Be tt. And wi From glen, and plain, and city, Let gracious incense rise; The Lord of life in pity Hath heard His creatures' cries And where in fierce oppressing Stalked fever, fear, and dearth, Be pours a triple bl And we, wh Pere coy end over all disti Then gather, CI To th heart ghty Fa a voice The good Almi Who biddeth you rejoie( Hundred Qi Persons I Answer principally for the use of Sch By V l / 4 T. if. an, d J. Myer man and Co., Paternoster-ro' In noticing the above valuable and able work, we can- :7, .._.? not do better than, in the first instance, to state from the athors' preface the objects for which it has been compiled. g work," they state, "has been compiled in : .;; found useful to young persons engaged : ptures, and that it may also prove not : .7e " The fc the hope ti in the study of the Sc unacceptable to those "The questions are " Conild 1 other knor "To the au press their ackr tention :baracter, in order to ite more if mid be t the book for the opinion on too highly - app: ght too difficult for I et time, these may perusal e easier to the more diffi worthy of attention, both .nd iri the acquirern, !ompilers 1 thus follow vernagu giver it is found.' " Arried out the views here b a work better calculated to in, f the old testament, by leadi, ,ose passages to which the ques le time one which is better calcu- save full aning of those doubtful passages only so because of the difficulty a expressing in the Eng- )ut comment orsexplanittio nal H rew, especially N ceremonial, or idiomati ,een used her of apparent ssrs. Myers, as their name Albers of the Jewish persua- We m a Jewish college, and the and in the clearing up of zes as those to which we .d by them to the c the reader that few—we I in the history of, their the inspired wr ish people the Jew 1 of this work, moaesd ase of sc Such to 6ted to 1 matter well worthyt of read :or whom Ni• of the questior question 6 asks " What is the art of the Bible ?" _ The answer ade in the Greek ri of the Ptolemies iter the captivit Answer z fort} By the dead s for their selection There are other ntfication, and involving the coi r at urr. POETR ) WHO TURNS DAY INTO NIGHT, 'D NIGHT INTO DAY ! the " Bard of homing c and weep scene ! ,otli fled THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD: TheMhOW Scriptural Epitaphs. Smith, Elder, and Co., London. INDIFFERENCE OF THE PUBLIC THE GREAT The design of this little book — which is very beautifull y HINDRANCE TO SANITARY REFORM. • printed and neatly bound—is "to furnish a selection of passages from the Holy Scriptures suitable for Christian (From Fraser's Magazine.) epitaphs, in the hope that it may tend to a more judicious The great difficulty with which the advocates of sanitary choice of monumental inscriptions." It is too frequently reform have to contend, is the apathy of the people in all +b. .... thfit lines or inscriptions are placed on tomb that concerns the preservation of health and life. It has THE PERSONATOR A SCENE FROM " AN IRISH ELECTION IN THE TIM} OF THE FORTIES. " (From the Dublin University Magazine.) - - - n7Y taste, but are re multi- stones, which a even ludicrous— tude s not only offensive to goon " not blasphemous. There , )assages in the pible which can be very advan- never oceurrei look upon They forget that it is by it alone that they are enabled to earn a livelihood ; that the strength of their bodies, the skill of their hands. and even the operations of their tageously used to set forth tne ieeungs or tne mourners, and possibly be of lasting benefit to some casual reader. With this view the compiler of the work before us has brought together about three hundred suitable texts of and we call only hope that his laudable effort 1 to bring about a thorough reformation in the ' • -- This little book minds, are directly contingent upon the continuance of their health ; that upon it depends their own subsistence, and the support of wife and children ; that without it they must bid adieu to comfort, to independence, to all hope of bettering their condition or rising in the world ; that, in a word, in every - conflict with outward things, in the pursuits Scripture will ten in the hand of every pa i-clerk in of peace as in the strut 3ease defeat. But not only is the great mass of the people unconsciou iifferent to, this great truth, but those e kingdom les of war, health is victory an The Natural History of Stuck-up I of, or it to whom a This little work cont, les of a CU11V.1,11.1 LPL Luc v aiuc ua last to feel it and to act upon it. In the tailors' work shop and in the printing-office, where men rot like sheep in the marshes, poisoned by impure air ; among the fork grinders of Sheffield, and in the noisome cellars of Liver pool ; you will find this indifference at its height. The inhabitants of these places are not ignorant of their dan ger, but custom has blunted their feelings. They know that they are doomed to a sickly existence and an early grave, that in their peaceful occupations they have not even the soldier's chance of escape, and that with scarcely an exception they will die before their time; but they are fa talists almost to a man, and, as far as this part of their creed is concerned, might as well be Mahometans as Christians. The very men who would move heaven and earth to maintain some petty usage of their trade, or to resist the most unimportant innovation of their so-called rights, will suffer themselves to be suffocated and poisoned without a murmur, and even oppose the most unreasona ble and vexatious obstacles to the humane attempts of the employer to improve their condition. But the infa tuation of these men does not stop here ; for, in exact proportion as their occupations are fatal to health and life, they are addicted to that destructive habit of intoxication, which exerts so strange a fascination over the victims of physical and moral wretchedness. This reckless disregard of health and life, this wanton waste of the poor man's only property, this strange apa thy in a matter so momentous, forms, as we have said, the great difficulty in the way of sanitary reform. The school master and the clergvman are sadly wanted here. The class of people who are to be author has placed them upon th in every grade of lif a town, not a vii .up people "—its family who do not visit with tradespeople ; its , not a nuitant veg vegetating upon t ters are taught to consid( hundred a year, the family of M: " Ay, but where is he, and what his name ?" " He is under the care of honest Paddy Brandy, who will see that he doesn't communicate with or go over to the enemy. His real name, I dare say, few know ; his alias, for the present, is Pendleton." He had scarcely concluded, when Brandy, who received that soubriquet from his predilection for the liquor in question, which was the only description of spirits he ever drank, now entered, accompanied by a respectable looking Methodist preacher, or, at least, by a person in the garb of one. " What is this, Paddy ?" exclaimed Burnside, angrily ; " where did you leave Pendleton, or what has become of him ?" " Begorra, sir," replied Brandy, " he was too soople for me! What has became of him is more than I can tell; but he has given me the slip at all events. In the mane time, here is a gintleman that wishes to say some thing to you about the election." " Certainly," said Burnside ; " with pleasure. I hope you 're a friend, sir," he added, addressing the stranger. " I know not exactly whether I am a friend to you, sir," replied the Methodist ; " but I trust I am a friend to truth." _ _ _ _ wealthy grocer over tl from their teens to that period at which ladies are uncer tain whether to prefix Miss or Mistress best becomes them in hopeless assaults upon the few presentable bachelors to be met with in their petty sphere. Stuck-up people are to be met with everywhere ; and some of the specimens to be found amongst the middle ranks, rendering their "Have you a vote ?" asked Burnside. " I have a vote," replied the other, " but I am not clear that I should give it to a man whose private morals are questionable, as those of Mr. Vanston are reported to be-" poverty contemptible by the airs Ns the transparent devices which they use to conceal it, would afford a far more taking subject for ridicule than that which Mr. Albert Smith has chosen— the Lacquer Fa mily. He has handled his subject, however, with great cleverness and some of the scenes—the dinner party es- ssume, ant are very effectiv( The Bottle. In eight Plates. By George Cruickshank. London : D. Bogue ; and Wiley andPutman, New York. In this effort, the distinguished artist has aimed suc cessfully at the production of a series of pictures in the Hogarth vein, containing in themselves at once a picture • A •, g of tt " We have nothing to do with his private life, I hope," aid Burnside. " Pardon me, my friend ; that is the great error of Protestantism—in the heat of our zeal for the ascendancy of our principles, we are too apt to overlook purity of private life. How can a man, negligent of moral obliga tion, and dead to religious experience, prove himself a consistent advocate for truth ?" " Pray, are you a clergyman ?" asked Billy, adroitly ; " because, if you be, no man, I assure you, respects con scientious scruples more than I do. Your sentiments certainly do you honour " " I am a clergyman only in a certain sense ; in a true sense, I trust, though not in a legal one. I belong to that humble but earnest class, the Primitive Wesleyans, and my call to teach and to preach is from above. My name is John Wesley O'Rafferty—a brand plucked from the burning. and a sincere convert from the abominable &lan must pulpit especially must be put in requisition be taught his duty to his own body. The dictum of Samuel Johnson, that " to preserve health is a moral and religious duty," must be enforced in the Church. Men must be reminded that long life, and, by inference, the sound health of which it is the consequence and the sign, bold a prominent place among the temporal blessings promised in Scripture. Above all, the minister of religion should bear always in mind, that every year snatched from unhealthy occupations or unwholesome habits and added to the term of human existence, is so much added to his own opportunities of usefulness,—so much, under Provi dence, to the sinner's time of trial and repentance, and the Christian's period of improvement. Hitherto the clergy have not exerted themselves in this promising field of Christian labour. Their thoughts have not been turned in that direction. They have looked upon disease too much in the light of a punishment, and too little in that of a necessary and natural consequence of an infringement of God's laws revealed in man's body, and in the elements by which it is supported. The pestilence bred and nursed in filth has been regarded as a providential provision against a redundant population ; and the merciful Being who has declared that he " willeth not the death of a sin ner," is supposed to have made express provision .to en sure the premature death of a man. We must not enter further upon this subject. Enough that we have invited the co-operation of the clergy in a work in which all their efforts are urgently required. They themselves are the best judges of their own opportunities and duties. In this truly Christian work of rousing the people of England to a sense of the value of health and life, the members of the medical profession may co-operate with even more effect. In their home ministrations, and in that larger sphere of duty afforded by hospitals and dis pensaries, they have golden opportunities of impressing on the minds of all classes, but especially of the lowest, those simple rules for the preservation of health, of which nine-tenths of the people are grossly ignorant, and the greater part of the remaining tenth disgracefully careless. We know that many members of that most unselfish pro fession have already embarked heart and soul in the cru sade against the causes of disease which swell the lists of their own patients, and in a noble spirit of forgetfulness, are doing everything in their power to dry up the foul springs of their own prosperity. How favourably does this contrast with the narrow and jealous spirit of paro chialism, which will not resign the least of local usages, though the lives of the poor are at stake, and the pockets of t 1 rata!-rinvors heavily taxed ! It is more in sorrow er of the family, caused oy inuuigence is traced until, the wife having been ed upon her by her husband by the their join.; de- killed by a blow inflict „*.,,ca LA lcaaDaa 111 41,a4 ma,. gradation, the unhappy being himself is represented in the last plate as a hopeless maniac, visited in his cell by his son and daughter, the former a thief, and the latter an outcast of the street._ The plates are of a large size, about 15 inches by 12, are full of character ; and the price at which they are sold—a shilling—should induce their being purchased extensively for framing, as substitutes fnr the trashy pictures which are to be found in the houses '07;7 ;;;;:: and - - even of some of our middle classes An Edition is also printed on fine paper, and tinted. Blackwood's Magazine contains one or two amusing articles of a light and entertaining character, along with two or three of a higher class. The best of the former is " How I stood for the Dreepdaily Boroughs"—a laugh able sketch, containing some good hits at the electioneer ing morality of our cannie northern fellow-countrymen. " The Crusade of the Children" is a beautifully-written lesson ; and the article, " Le Premier Pas" contains some truths which may be studied with advantage. We have also some excellent reviews, and other interesting and in structive matter. SECOND EDIT! Standard-office, Two o'clock I LIVE CORN EXCHANGE-THIS receipts of any kind of produ system of Popery." " Pray, was your father a Papist, Mr. O'Rafferty ?" "Unhappily he was," replied O'Rafferty, " for which I fear he is now paying the penalty." " And how did it happen that he, being a Catholic,. should have christened you John Wesley O'Rafferty ?" asked Burnside. " He never did so, my friend," replied the preacher. " The name bestowed upon me at the font was Patrick, or, as I was more familiarly called, Paddy. I felt un comfortable under that ungodly name as soon as I had ceased to be an Idolater, and changed it to the more suit able one of John Wesley." " A very appropriate change, indeed," replied Billy, with great suavity, " and an evident proof of your sin cerity. But, Mr. Wesley, I trust you are coming to give us your vote." " Unless Mr. Vanston shall express himself willing to attend some of our meetings, and sit occasionally under our ministry, I fear I cannot conscientiously do so. I am decidedly opposed to the practice of sending ungodly men to parliament. I think none but serious persons, of decided piety, should be sent there, and that our legisla ture ought to be only another name for a religious meet ing." " You are perfectly right, Mr. O'Rafferty," replied Burnside ; " but, touching your objection, I believe I can remove it ; for it is no longer than the day before yesterday that Mr. Vanston spoke in the highest terms of the connexion to which you belong, and expressed a de termination, as soon as he should be returned for the county, to examine into your principles. I encouraged him strongly in that determination, having myself felt very serious impressions for some time past, and a dispo sition to take the same steps. So far, then, as Mr. Van ston is concerned, you may lay aside your scruples." " There is a good deal of truth in what the gentleman " observed another supporter of Vanston's. " A still unimportant ; •oad since Friday, th Church aiding and abetting, instead of sternly reproving, this mean display of local selfishness. man of unscrupulous life and morals ought not, ceeteris paribus, to be returned to parliament whilst a man of private worth and honour can be had. See what discredit the Liberal party have entailed upon themselves, by electing unprincipled adventurers, who have scarcely any other means of subsistence than what they derive from the sale of their franks, or swindle at the gaming-table ; —men without fortune, principle, or character—the asso ciates of sharpers and blacklegs—who contrive to get themselves into parliament, not for the public good, but in order to be able to laugh at and cheat their creditors. These men, I say, may be proper exponents of the public honesty which influences the party that countenances them, in defiance of public shame and decency, but they are, at the same time, very unfit persons to guard the moral interests of society, which they themselves openly trample upon and violate." " Well, in that case," observed. O'Rafferty, addressing himself to Burnside, " I think I may lay aside my scru ples, and I can promise you five votes." " Brandy, what the devil are you grinning at ?" said Burnside, interrupting John Wesley ; " better for you, in the present pinch, to make yourself useful. Go and secure Pendleton, if you can ; it was rather a soft job of you to let him escape. I beg your pardon, sir," he added, turning to Wesley—" pray proceed." Kept " Never mind, sir," replied Brandy, " I'll engage I the seeds make him forthcoming yet, beggin' the gintleman's par be not sown don for intherruptin' him. Go on, sir," said he. -' WIND-UP OF A YANKEE BARRISTER'S ADDRESS.— " May it please the Court, I had rather live thirteen hundred centuries on the small end of a thunderbolt, chew the ragged end of a flash of lightning, swallow the corner of a Virginian thorn fence, and have my bowels torn out by a green briar, than thus to be bamboozled by those gentlemen. SOWING SEEDS.-It is not sufficiently known, amongst gardeners, that their ineffectual endeavours to raise some plants from seeds, often arises from their being kept through the winter, for spring sowing. If tho )1 man herbaceous plants W and trees as soon as ripe, they never vegetate. This circum stance is interestingly alluded to in reference to the Cly clamen, in Maund's Botantic Garden and Frnitist, for the present month. It is there remarked, " Cultivators over look the fact, that the seed should be sown as soon as ripe ; it never should be thoroughly dried ; the plant itself asks fcr immediate sowing. The circling downwards of its peduncles, with the seed vessels, after flowering, to con vey the seeds to the soil, should be our lesson. Here nature suffers not the seeds to dry, by suspension in the atmosphere ; but, by independent locomotion, the plant nestles up its brood, and even previously to the maturity of its offspring, conveys them in her bosom to the earth. BENEFIT SOCIETIES.—The evils incident to Benefit Societies as in general at present constituted, arise mainly from ignorance. Hence it at once appears that intelli gence is the appropriate cure. Those great principles of mutual assurance which science has developed and expe rience found safe and satisfactory, must be applied in or der to secure the working man from want and dependence. The propriety of this is so obvious as to need no illustra tion—some however may be disposed to think that every needful provision has been already made in Mutual As surance societies free from objections, if not in the Savings' with a grin—" proceed, yer reverence. " Well, then," proceeded the other, " I can make out five hone 4 votes for you. First,. myself—John Wesley O'Rafferty, the Methodist preacher; next, myself—being one Paddy Boulger, a farmer ; third, myself—being Mi chael Boulger, a brother of Paddy's, about six months in heaven, I hope ; fourth, ditto—another brother of that went to paradise on a French bullet from the battle of Watherlew, now betther than a year agone ; fifth, ditto —as an honest ' Forty' ; and, stay—l have a cousin a sailor—l'll make it six ; and I think six votes taken out of one man speaks strongly for Billy Burnside's wig and a shifting countenance." On uttering the words, he took off the wig, and, allow in.- his features to fall into their natural expression, he le very Bank; such an opinion betrays ignorance of the feelings and wants of the people. Towards Savings' Banks many of them entertain grave suspicions. The existence of those suspicions we regret. We think those suspicions unfounded. Did we hold that England was on the eve of THE 14IURDER OF THE DUCHI PRA SUN. SS DE a social convulsion : did we believe that its rulers were aiming at an aristocratical despotism, we should have a ground for these suspicions. As itis, the security afforded ny Savings' Banks is among the best in the country, — when that security fails, none will be safe, and if any are said that the minister, by having in his pocket the peo ,_ _ ;,, ..inving the tyrant, let them We have already given every particular .. connec pie's monc„ reflect that the people by withdrawing their money within comparatively a short period, have full power to disap point an ambitious and paralyse a tyrannical governor. In most transactions the creditor has power at least equal to that of the debtor. If by the Savings' Banks the state pledges the people to abstain from violence, the people by the same means impose on the government the neces sity of ruling not without a regard to their advantage. And the larger their deposits, the greater security is pos .,. were po siv - ely by the wor s, they would thereby ho: T ceasc Bard with respect Dther exi existence —founded or and approved data of Mutual Assurance. These s should unite in their constitution the three great elemen of British prosperity . and strength, namely, intelligence wealth, and popular influence.—People's Journal. ORIGIN OF THE DON COSSACKS.—The origin of the Cossacks is unknown, and has long been the subject of It is generally held that peo )m Kassachia, mentioned by Dther the y teshead s made a that a mecha antiquarian controverst bserver the pint LI century as a Rrovi se of rocl bourhood of the Caucasus ; but of this Icassachia nothing is known ; and, while the name occurs only in the ninth century, our Cossacks did not appear for four hundred infusion of r, as they. are my beloved, unless by my suspicions and my temper, anti when did a kind word fail to soothe me ? Give not vent to your anger—be not inexorable. My heart is breaking. Theobald, pity ! pity ! on her who loves you! Trust your happiness to my keeping, as I trust mine to yours. * * * Do not break the heart that is beating only for you. You who once loved me so much, forgive. When you confess to me your sorrows—your head upon my sorrows—your head upon my breast, your hands in mine, my lips upon your forehead,—do you think that they will not be less than if pent up in your own breast ? Do not sacrifice our mutual happiness to an empty fear that I will abuse your goodness; no, no, I will only share and console you in all your sorrows. But will you be the less a man to have a loving woman to share your pleasures and your sorrow ? Let this union of our hearts be a sweet mystery of love between us. Oh ! we could be so happy if you would but try it. You would always be met with a happy and smiling countenance, ready to follow you wherever you liked. Perhaps, after all, you are the more lealous of the two. God knows what suspicion you may nourish in your breast, for I am at a loss how to in terpret your secret sorrows. If you knew what I suffer, my beloved ! It is still in our power to be so happy, I cannot think that you wish to abandon me thus for ever to deprive us of mutual happiness—life is so short, my beloved, and we have been separated so long ! Soon, I shall not dare to make proposals, always refused like my caresses. It is not your character to make the first ad vances, and from custom your wife will fear you too much to make further attempts, and life will then pass by, and you will be unhappy and your wife will die of grief. Oh, return! return unto her! LETTER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN FOUND IN TH DESK 0: THE DUKE, AT PARIS MAY 21, 1840.—D0 not be astonished, my dear Theo bald, at my fear of being alone with you. We are sepa rated—for always—you said so ; a sad recollection will ever be attached to yesterday. : You must have perceived yesterday that I felt its full weight, when, in the presence of persons who are the cause of this separation, nothing betrayed that it had taken place. You will never have occasion to complain of me before the world—my conduct yesterday is proof sufficient. As long as 1 nourished hopes of a reconciliation (and latterly I had many) I was hovering between joy and fear, and gave way to fits of temper ; but now that the sacrifice is done, you need not fear. Before the children and the world, nothing will lead to the supposition that you have destroyed my peace. When I say you, it is not you that my heart accuses, but to be alone with you would be too much for me. I must weep in solitude, and endeavour to gain sufficient strength to hide my misfortune from the world ; my illusions are imposes upon me. My heart would overflow ; it will need time to calm its movements—then, anon ami, instead of avoiding you, I shall seek your presence—but at the present moment I love you too well. To act towards you for the _ future as I ought I must endeavour to forget my past hopes. Time aid habit can alone teach me to draw a line between Theobald and M. de Praslin. If I could but think that you would be happy at the price of all my sufferings, present and to come, it would be a consolation to me. Farewell ! what pain is in that word, pain that 1 never dreamt of before. Fare well ! And yet you loved me ! We will meet in heaven ; may the thought sometimes cross your mind, that I still love you! EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN THE CHAMBER OF THE DOMES " April 23, 1842.—A1l is finished. We have quarrelled beyond recall. Oh, he is more than harsh, he is cruel towards me. How could he acquire this excess of aver sion for me whose love he knows to be so pure, so tender, so devoted ? What infamous influences have been at work upon his heart, once so good, so affectionate, so just ? He excuses himself doubtless by telling himself that my character has become hateful and intractable. But whose is the fault ? Has he not disordered all my sentiments, all my principles—does he not seize every oc casion to hurt and wound me ? The chamber I live in kills me with its bitter recollec tions. The sight of the staircase which I mounted on the day of marriage so full of joy, of love, of hopes so trusting—all this part of the chateau which I inhabited when you loved me, when you never left me, all this makes me mad. I know not what Ido or say, so ill have you treated me since you have come into possession of your magnificent chateau. Your first word was to tell me that I was not to think myself at home. It is true you made me fine promises for the future : but how have you kept them ? It seems that since you have been Duke de Praslin, and possessor of the chateau, I am no longer worthy of being your wife. Since you have wished for no more children you have believed yourself freed from all sentiments of affection, from all consideration, from all regard. Was I then only a machine ? But I—l had placed all my heart, all my hope, all my happiness in our union. It was the history of my life. Far from dreading age, like so many women, I rejoiced in the anticipation of the happiness we should have together, as having loved one another so long—in talking over our old recollections—in living again in our children—in quitting together this world for a better. Alas ! why are you no longer reli gious ? My fears would not have arisen, if you had not excited them. 1. no longer see you 11.111.. Ult: LIJ auy re straint of religion. For a long time you have adopted the appearance of the most disordered life, you effect the greatest levity of manner, the greatest contempt for the bienseances. I have seen you depart from the truth so far as to say that you have done one thing when you have done another. Alas ! what can I judge from except ap pearances since you will not allow me to know the reality ? nh r 111r1rP unfortunate than blameable. If you did if you loved me, i iuld have Sept. 1, more eager to seize every opportuhity of being of service to you, and that I shall be thankful to you if you will point out the means. I heard that yott intended paying Lady Hislop a visit, in which case I. will give you a letter to Lady Tankerville, who I am sure will do all that is in her power to second Lady Hislop's endeavours for your welfare. if you would like to have letters to Madame de Flahault and Miss Elphinstone, I shall be most happy to write them. I remember that on arriving ut Praslin you asked me to lend you a book ; I hope you will not refuse to accept this little souvenir, which I have great pleasure in sending you. I can only repeat, Mademoiselle, that I shall seize every occasion to be of service to you.—S. Praslin." been required to excite jealousy in one the least suscep tible of it ? •By my God, how superstitious does grief make one ! So I am ashamed of it. On Sunday, the day of your arrival, on rising I perceived an enormous This trigh plore your manner to m ~,,i,l ~,,1 ili.aninfril_ In WILLS OF THE DIIF ND DITCHES " Two wills of the Duchess de Praslin have been deposited in the hands of the President of the Civil Tribunal of the Seine. One of these is dated in 1841, and the other in 1846. In t speaks of her husband in the most affe the second she does not, as has been erroneous give a life interest to the duke in all her in queaths to him a part of her personal I interest in one of her landed estat, every day it becomes more s moment, while writing, I turn my eyes and see a little spider. My tears stop. I feel an emotion of joy, as if a hope came to me. How weak is the spirit of man ! Nevertheless, it is in thee, my God, my heart has placed all its hopes. But it is possible that sometimes thou sendest visible signs of the will. Oh, save him, and if it be possible, restore him to „• first the duchess late terms 1, .1 stated, ty, but be perty, and a life In this last will is a curious clause, by which she leaves her jewels to one of her sons, with directions that they shall be sold, and the produce invested in government funds. The dividends of the stock thus purchased are to be invested to accumulate till the time when this son shall be about 'to be married, when the whole fund thus augmented is to be laid out in the purchase of diamonds for his bride. On Saturday morning the will of the Duke de Praslin was also deposited in the hands of the President of the Civil Tribunal. This will was in the portfolio of the duke, who, just before his death, took care to indicate tnat circumstance. Imme diately after the decease of the prisoner, the portfolio was opened, and two wills were found, bearing date 1841 and 1843. The first is not signed, but the second, which is the exact reproduction of it, is perfectly regular. In the testamentary act of 1843, the Duke de Praslin, after several liberalities made to his different children, leaves par precipnt the chateau of Praslin de Vaux to his eldest son. In a particular clause he engages his sons not to contract marriage before having attained their twenty-fifth year. There is also in the testament of 1843 a legacy, by which the duke secures a rente of 3,000 fr. to 111dlle. de Lu zy-Desportes, in acknowledgement of the enlightened zeal which she had shown in the education of his daughters." The subsequent examination:of Madlle. de Luzy tends to show that the duchess was of a quick, jealous, irritable, Madlle. de Luzy showe son of very high ability Le is a per- .ra love for she spoke duclie'ss, the interrogator took occasion frequently to ac cuse her of throwing unnecessary blame on that most un fortunate lady : " In every answer you give you insinuate something wrong against Madame de Praslin ?" (Weeping.) " I . wish ' most sincerely I had not to say what I - do. — She is dead, and I only wish I could bring her back to life, not by merely giving mine for hers, but, in addition, by suf fering the most horrible tortures. Who beheld as I did for six years every fold of her mind, every change of her existence ? Who knows as Ido that extraordinary and incomprehensible versatility which caused Madame de Praslin to pass from anger to mirth, from disdain to mild ness, from irony to kindness ? I feel that, except before you, I would not have uttered a word except of respect, veneration, and regret. Oh ! Ido not defend myself. I only endeavour to enlighten what is dark." " Did you ever hear anything from M. de Praslin to lead you to suppose that he was likely to have recourse to ex tremities ?—I swear by all that is most sacred never. often heard Madame de Praslin threaten to kill herself- Once at Vaudreuil she wa n t e d t o s t a b h erse lf, and M. de Praslin, in disarming her, wounded himself in the liana. Another time at Dieppe, after an altercation with her husband, she rushed into the street, threatening to fling herself into the sea; but some hours after, by that strange inconsistency of character of which I have already spoken, she was found by M. de Praslin in a shop, making pur chases, and quite calm. On many and many an occasion M. de Praslin was calm, unmoved, and full of mildness." " Was not the demonstration of these extremities to which Madame de Pritslin was tempted to have recourse, a proof to you of the profound afflictions which she must have felt ? If you liked, you could certainly state to us how great a part you had borne in producing in her such a state of mind. How heavy ought not such a conviction to be to you at present ?—The first demonstration of Ma dame de Praslin was anterior to the time of my entering the family ; M. de Praslin had mentioned it to me as an intimation of the great consideration and attention that it was necessary to evince towards her; the others were fol lowed by so much calm and sometimes high spirits in a short time, and indeed often immediately after, that 1 re garded them rather as the effervescence of an excited im agination than as the result of a real evil." The Presse gives the following particulars relating to this unfortunate young lady :—" Mad'lle de Luzy was a resident in the school of the Marais for only a month. She had been introduced there in the name of the duke and duchess, and was accompanied on her first visit bi one of the demoiselles de Praslin. When she took up her residence there, her pupils, in bringing her a superb cop)" _e al_,. 4 Tome nenavorl hv 4110 diirhe3s ()LUAU 1.1111..L1V 11 wa • I COLLO •-•111a0l, wank. ukkr, herself, as a testimony of gratitude, came and aideq' effecting her removal and settling her chamber, besi d e s frequently since renewing their visits. Mad'lle de LOT' who was altogether a stranger to the institution s ,1-,°p remain charged with the direction o f th e studi e s o f t"- demoiselles de Praslin; and the duchess, in dismissing her,gave no other motive for her sending her sway than the too lively affection which the Aildren felt for their stood before Burnside as Pendleton himself man with whom he had held a long conversation about a me. L.rant Loab ..... ......, couple of hours before. him, and that they may touch his heart. ' Confound you, for a scoundrel," said Burnside, IMPRESSIONS. laughing ;" I think you must be the devil himself, since Document found at Paris, in the Duche s secretaire, you have imposed on me ; a circumstance which I deemed iri a sealed envelope, entitled ' ~. to be impossible. However, I suppose it was the w i g did " 13th July, 1847.—1 t is long since i nave written any it. Multiply yourself now into fifty, if you can ; only be thing, and nevertheless nothing has changed in the in if and vote. The Personation Committee will provide terval. She will leave, they say, when we go to Proslin ; .• • -4. 7? and in the meantime the empire she holds is most ai-- some c stay of the fan - lily in the hich sl Sladem- • murder, during tho a comml .Aon to purchase for the Children some bathing clothes , which they were to take on their way through Paris. 1 0 his visit the evening before the crime, M. de Praslin ac companied four of his children, who brought from the country to Mad'lle Luzy a basket of fruit and flowers. It He was was the first time that he visited the institution, received by Mad'lle Luzy in the parlour, the of the house forbidding the visit to be otherwise regulations ~. The mistress of the school ipoke apart to the duke of certain rumours which had reached her relative to Mad'lle de Pizl' , and expressed her surprise at these reports, which con trusted so strongly with the lively friendship which the duchess authorized between her children and their former ruarmittPrl +hex. litaioa 111 romp. with dared to him her intention to write to the duchess her self, to demand a letter in refutation of these reports. The duke approved of the design. The letter was written joy impressions mediately, but had not time to reach the duchess. it hag " 13th ce I has been delivered up by the mistress to the Procureur du Rio.' thing, r s chan The Moniteur of Thursday contains a new and most, t erve ) hen vv , important article on the subject, being the confession 0; and a hol ---u- the wretched murderer made to the Duke Decazes ' Gran' 11- tains inem a ll as in a Referendery of the Ch amber of Peers, and which he (the . What a future he D u ke Decazes) communicated to the Court of Peers oil is preparing for himself ! If he allows hi m self to be their next sitting of the 30th ult. The document filth' thus domineered over and brow-beaten by intriguantes at absolves the government and the authorities of all know" ced with forty-two, what will he be when he grows old ! And yet, ledge of, and instrumentality in, the death tl o t f eh t e h i e r assassin . how I love him ! lie must have with Stilltsiei search irticerheemisvi person I p a r n o ne v ew e d zee t nr h efi a that sat t l h p e ab i l inferior negligente committedrio officers .ieay i o c em h n a ict r et g i c a l this melancholy tragedy, whim 0u,,,, _ :ead with painful interest. From the official report - of the Proces 12y all a thesf3ad w ir a ins as : p f i o re r a or e e m se e ei g this love so im n :as w : with .cci t a h r e e m , an :: :. Verbaux, we select the most interesting portion of the explainsinned. He is no longer the same man ; how dull is his t t h h e e ir v n a e le g t lig d e e nc e e r i s i i n f b u r rt e h w er h e o st re atis o h n e s d tr b a T ed correspondence of the unfortunate Duchess, which has spirit—how narrowed his heart—how much has he grown seen on more than one occa sion alluded to in the details s uspicious, ennuied, and irrita ble. Nothin g animates their inattention to the movements of his master. These of this distressing case. him. Nothing interests him, nothing exalts bm. No officers allege in their defence, that : we understand, '- obliged the Duke (Praslin) t ...... CITA THE DUCHESS TO .11ER HUSBAND. generous, i mpass ioned , or enthusiastic . sentiment seems foc, Father anc -w either for 1 Ldren, she ref life he leads ! untry or for his children Truly I believe that h D. (whom he has not loved My God ! what an exi ice ! What )ught him so different, Oh, he suppose d COURT IN SCOTLAND Loch I d always been so: I_ could nev heart, in I pies of moral i . mind, have caused him to And with all this he wishes How completely has he 2 isol Prince Albert, the Prim f Wal' roman: have loved him if h adjoining. ;ion, an imb to its return to the metropo. On Friday, the Earl of her Majesty royal party 1 one real, those which have sprung from his pleasures, and which have become claims from his weakness when he wished to detach himself from them. How frightful it is ! He drags after him, the exigencies of women with whom he has been connected. And yet how bizarre are men ! He las always sacrificed, oppressed, wounded, humiliated, " ft did rious friend He has no connection On Satur ill-treat( not love zs:t the 1.11 MM. cif ed on a visit w additions toEtarbei • ;orn and the ajesty, and Pilo& hold, attended the of Aberdeen. On Sunday, her Albert, together with the royal hous,_ performance of divine worship at Ardveril On Monday Prince Albert, accompa -an, the Duke of Norfolk, and Mr_ Ans, Ider, on a deer-stalking excursion. 4 ' this mountain is famous for the num on the sii Tied by P r i n ce Lei went oil. The fore anti excellence Os sne ueer, auu - markable as having been the hiding-place of Charles in, ward, after the battle of Culloden. The retreat on -- 13e d Alder is thus described by Home ." It was situatedli ry numerous attendance of buyers thi Lemand for Wheat at the full prices of The instances mite money was paid ry acti of this c lower ft good r o Ireland, at 21 Line ofld, per 45 5 P. s• " e trade for Flour, at the full p being obtainable foi 1 brands. LETTEI Wherefore, my beloved, do you yet your afflictions ? You deprive our life of all the charms all that col of affection! Do you then believe, or rather do you wish and honon to persuade yourself, that independence consist " "^"-"^' tude ? You say that lam exigeante, becau share your sorrows. You do not like me to you have any , est on I tor him in I loy f the deep- e that ,d; If _1 within my heart a som-u. est love, sufficient to calm and soothe all your sorry . and you discard me ! Am I not your wifo, the partner of your life, she whose duty it is to share equally your plea sures and sorrows ? If you were ill, is it not my hand that would smooth thy pillow ? and are not sorrows dis eases of the mind—of the spirit? Wherefore, then reject * You have a heart to appreciate the joys, the 'nf.r. heart, in which to place full , confidence wants of a IoN Lers nun I . BelieN in me. me, Theobald, fOur months of sorrow and repentance have chastened me ; it is to love and con sole you, and not to torment you that I seek v- ,ur conti- For my part, I have loved only him, a passion inexpressible--an ardour which astonishes mt T Itnnur not hot at the bottom of his heart he and with best En Ts, now so well know of praise to the publisher f a deservedly establisheed works, ;üblic an opportunity of pur- ible remunerative pric any laudation of a . ,ke the one before us, as taees of circulating the rning, on terms that ible to all, and we 'shall therefore aying that the present volume is ) those of its predecessors, and is xecuted engraving of Machiavelli. History of Enoland, by n : David Bogue. part of this pretty, but it, which carries us down ,de. It is well calculated e author --to furnish the related in a dry hard Thomm lv useful and instru s of Edmu ish the obj to accomi istory (which ar minds), in an attractive and interesting garb,Thy writing them in a familiar man ner. Mr. Miller wishes to give his work "all the fasci nation of fiction without altering a single recorded truth." This is a great improvement on historical novels, inas much as they misrepresent admitted facts, whilst here not a single fact is distorted, though the pleasing style of the former is adopted, and by this means we shall, no doubt, see many of our young friends more correct and enlarged Istorians than they have hitherto been. Each numb er _ , embellished with two beautiful steel engravings, bring mg before the " mind's eye " the scenery and events ren. =lova memorable at various periods. to youn needle the term Cc ack is of Tart origin, and means adven [le m in the word Cossack describes a nom of, as ever used, people, living under a peculiar military organiza is thus limbed not only to the Don Cossaci LO•I •••• • • in, M while in Bessarabia a medley of ppm: ple are called the Cossacks of the Dneistr ancient regard to the Don Cossacks, the mos important of all the tribes who have ever they became first known in history in the tury, on the dismemberment of the Tartar empire ; in the reign of Ivan IV., they put themselves under the protec tion of Russia, and since that period their history has ait been blended with that of the empire. lney the mountaineers of the Caucasus in physiological teristics, and from the Circassians in language gion, and in the well-marked fact, that while the sians show great skill in manufactures, the Cos , - 1. no liking for any employment of the kmc. They are, probably, of the Sclavonic stock, mingled with Circassian and other bloods ; and this intermixture, together with their republican institutions, may have imparted to them the national and intellectual vigour by which, as com pared to their neighbours, they have been and are distin guished. Catherine 11. determined to remodel their or ganization, with the object of their being incorporated with her people ; but, though her plans have been con stantly pursued, it is only at the present hour that they are in course of being accomplished. Every interference, however, with their rights and usages, has been in a very high degree unpopular ; and had Napoleon only sent emis saries to the Don, with promises to re-establish amongst the people there their ancestral constitution, the issue of the campaign of 1812 might have been wholly different. The Count Platoff of that bri lliant period was the last Hettman, or Ataman, of the Cossacks ; and on his death, and under the pret e nce of rewarding the nation for its services, the functions of the station were suppressed, while the title was conferred on the heir.apparents— I Dublin University Magazine. lountain, cal "—I. lic house 31most ith term by pegs of veal, said, " I t Lte as usual." " and you will to remark, that the v( nother word of objection. Inch of Papistry. 'he tag su avent, the lay brother, the be; i was suitable to the gross at ig habits o as, still le._ t, or Christians. P WALLS.— When damp walls proceed from delt ce, in the case of muriato of soda, &c., in intimat .ation with the sand used for the mortar, it is merel, necessary to wash the wall with a strong solution of alum This converts the deliquescent salt into an efflorescen, one, and the cure is complete. Or, alum may be added to the plaster in the first instance.—Dr. Murray. A BEGGAR'S PRIDE. — In the suburbs of Madrid, a beggar, with a most noble air, asked alms. " Are you not ashamed," said the person solicited, "to follow such an infamous employment, well able as you are to work ?" " Sir," replied the beggar, " I asked your charity, and not your advice," and immediately , turned his back upon him with all the dignity of an insulted Castilian. A VALUABLE WIFE.—A blacksmith named Osborne offered himself as bail, at the Court of Sessions, for a Prisoner whose trial was put off till next term. " Are you clearly worth 500 dollars above all your debts ? " in quired the Recorder. " Why, sir, I hold my wife to be worth 500 dollars at least, without counting my property." " The Court is satisfied, replied the Recorder i " take hi bail."—Xew lurk /Suns_ I monke ;ss defen, but it ought never to fir among gentlemen, Eni uescen ombin PIG ANI re is sure r and WI !eats ti ;ar stilt legrad Le drudge c Lent. Thl WHIST :o be a 1 [ual qua aid the av be r without a ; and but to I give you my word nev r over you; lam fully a mind ; I on. use you tt CM TIM • AI character ant my room to share your it that I wished Arid T Qtapsir lint( try again t of your su name of my love, in the name of you have mine. I will blin torment you by jealousy I will no longe d too much to return tc itude. 1 it being of a round o - r — rat - lo l v - ai 'sli.a — e - ' - a v ntrif:e sctu r ic • ghat,. Do ii, thatched and covered over with fog. 13 The whole fa o 0 amour pr 0...-... ...-... ...... Iney all breathe a feeling _____. ine hung, as it were, by a large tree, which reclined fl" 0 . ..1 and nu_ one end, all along the roof, to the other, which „d 4... same to it _ of deep love toward the duke, who had withdrawn his it the name of the. Cage, and by chance there haPil t e 'i,er, my it_ mutual c. _ affection from his wife, mingled with bursts of jealousy to be two stones at a small distance from one sno t 0 and prayers for the welfare of her children. They are a on the side next the precipice, resembling the pill'rj is union, happiness, and virtue any —_ .we me, repetition of each other. We subjoin a few extracts : a chimney, where the fire was placed. The smoke bt' 5 9° I shall never abuse your confidence ; your confessions repel am morally and physically worn out by this long vent out here, all along the fall of the rock, which s'i t ' the will be received in my bosom with the same mystery and and cruel struggle. You have entered a darksome path ; much of the same colour as to discover no diff e rence affection as thy caresses. Take again your own Fanny. Try her but for a short time with love and affection, and you are leading our children towards perdition, and bring- clearest day.' ' This Cage is still in existence,and from it: 4 re' you will find that you will be much happier than living in ing them up in wrong principles, and teaching them to flexion. wit:n the eventful career of Prince Charles, l acy' despise their mother, by showing them the example of internal discord at home, where a third person is allowed garded with' considerable respect by the High lan uo il solitude. You seek a change ; but are you rea lly happy ; to usurp the p l ace of their mother, of your wife." The deer-stalking party on the mountain could not ' c ipl Oh ! no, you are not, with a heart like yours, and the life In another letter, without date, the duchess says :—" To been lar distant from it, but whether it was visi te ao we are leading. The only happiness of your wife consists them or not, was not ascertained. The sport of tildiell in pour life and support. Turn not then a deaf ear unto have not the right to do it. To abandon my children to her entreaties ; unto her vows—to her repentance, for she entrust my children to another ! Oh, no, Theobald, you way not remarkably good, a single stag only havinkpaY to the shot of Prince Albert. In the course of t`:;tia: loves you, and her whole life will be past in love and gra titude towards you. You have driven her from your bed and from your heart ; could you do more if she was false? a giddy, shameless creature, without principles, without tact, can you be so weak, so deluded !" She spends her days and nights in tears ; she waits out- After this, the following letter in June last, runs oddly Royal your door, but dares not enter, for fear you should _ June 19, 1847.—Mademoiselle--I deeply regret to reproach her for it on the morrow. Mon anti, in the hear that you are unwell, and that in that state you took name of the many dear remembrances which you bid me invoke, should I ever have offended you, hearken to me ; the trouble of writing to me on a subject which your care for my children makes so natural. If circumstances give me again your confidence, and your love, and open which materially concerned their interests precipitated an your heart to the woman whose life is devoted to you. event which I looked upon 'out a few days since as still ph, I w ill ma i o lin it, ph, hew Dave 1 offeuded yo, _far diatant, you may be certain that I shall only be the the Queen, accompanied by one of the ladies in sc u '' ifo: ventured out on the Loch in her barge, wbi c "f l i ,,' manned by six rowers belonging to the crew °,, rho Royal yacht. There was also a fisherman on boar%ord; baited a few lines, and after throwing them over t '', fel', committed them into her Majesty's hands. 14° • iI P .., 0 to,A minutes elapsed till a fine trout rewarded the, WI s bri i , and but for an unlucky entanglement of the lit. e i l Yall e more would have graced her Majesty's piseaton' ‘t. er After spending about half-an-hour 011 till Loch, P jesty returned to the Lodge. DO not condemn us both to so, How. We love each other, we are both of us pure, and shall we live apart from each other both in body and in mind ? Do not let - LIM .1111Iiiuca sy. some of them without date, is thirty-three. Only one is written by Mdlle Deluzy, and one by Marshal Sebastiani to the duke ; the others are all in the hand-writing of the V.'s... A.l-. your confidence loving and obedient part ner of your life. . .nd, confidence is the bond of mar riaze souls, their mutual confessions are their caresses, and IIT9 by all that . l hold I shall never aim •• . perhaps prefers me to those women, whom he despises nn&l fears : and I. lam well disenchanted with him. How to not believe th this can ever our children He will alwaxs. void me because he i conscious of his wrong, a from duty to my children. ~....... ... . _ feeling of shame will al- my husband, when I doubt of my Love r( when I feel that other ideas, repressed f so many me to his the face o Letternilichk very rough, high, a part of gen Ald and some scattered wood inter ed. 1.116 ithin a small thiekbush, of wood. There were .6 e thpr ; and J. thisve a firaaiasreafbtlire some ra habitation and as the nizec e way of joists-or earth or gravel. There were naturally on their own roots earth, which, with the frees, planks, were levelled etwixt the trees, groW k l io some stakes fixed in AM 'ere interwoven with ror.'„ nt, to the ton of the C,0510 .mll Sult Jet' Lis a nd tern A R li es f tub, SA TaYl( Malil Th loss ( Th boar( Sir burg. Cal Fre At t . M` S A , cl ans Qtiet Sa x lth it a, Sri fo r E