The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-03-05 00:00:00

iterattire. CARDINAL DE RETZ, otr. THE COURTIER'S PLOT. BY PETER POPJOY, (For the Liverpool Standard.) CUAPTER XV, The dawn of the day. The Coadjutor and his suite. The Palais de Justice The tra•tor convicted. The insult and the challenge. The celebrated sitting. The craft of the Coadjutor An ordeal. strange events. FOR the space of a month fter the midnight interview had taken place in the Libra-y of the Coadjutor, Fabien and Elizabeth remained concealed within the cloister of Notre Dame. On the day after their arrival they were married by the chaplain of the Coadjutor. This bridal, as may well be imagined, was .solemnised under the cloudiest auspices; but Gondi at once saw that it was indispeusible to disarm the malice and scandal, which would sooner or later he indulged in, when the re sidence of a young and lovely girl in the dwelling of a prelate whose gallantries were no mysteries to the gay world, became known. This important ceremony had however brought with it but little happiness to the young couple, nor did it modify that kind of life which had been prescribed to them from the first by the Coadjutor; cooped up within the walls of the cloister, restricted to their own apartments with hut a silent court-yard in view, and with but little to amuse and nothing to interest them, be. pond their own society, it may be well imagined that, considering all circumstances, with their fate uncertain, the future a chaos, that time did not fly very swiftly away. Fabien endeavoured to cheer up the drooping spi rits of his bride, and bade her hope for the best ; bur save a casual visit from the scholar, and the attendance of Dame Germain, the old housekeeper of the Coadjutor, not a human face greeted them from morni,g till night. Oh ! bow that young pair did sigh for the plea=ant fields of Normandy, for the broad and sunny lands of Croissi, and the deep groves of Montglat. In the meantime the most profound trr..-,,,,ry was ob served, respecting the a' seuce of Elizabeth, at the palace. The Queen, to avoid the scandal of her flight, spread a report that her maid of honour was absent by her express commands ; and if the courtiers made it a subject of gos sip, they did so quietly. Anne of Austria, as one may readily believe, suspected that the Coadjutor had some connection with her extraordinary disappearance; bur, although she saw him every night in her oratory, she did not speak to him upon this most delicate subject; while he, on his part, was silent, perceiving, by certain ind , ca- Cons, that it would not be prudent just then to plead the cause of his young friends. It appealed as if there ex isted between the two, a tacit conv en ti on t h at t h e su bj ect should he av o id e d whilst the affairs of the state so impe riously required that they should act in concert. Neither one nor the other seemed willing to make any advances in the matter—the Queen to pardon those who had of fended her, nor the Coadjutor to abandon those over whom he had thrown the shield of his powerful protection. The most dangerous enemy the newly-married couple had to contend against was Alpert de Croissi. From the first moment he had no doubt as to the hiding place his two victims had chosen. But as Albert eontinued in disgrace at court, he was not invested with any power to act against the fugitives, and he was too politic a gentle man to run a risk by which he might get himse f perhaps still deeper into disgrace, since he was totally uninformed how the Queen felt upon the subject of the absence of her maid of honour, as well as F abien's disappearance. He therefore contented himself with rambling about the cloister, and engaging in conversation, at all times, the gentlemen who formed the Coadjutor's guard. The marvellous sagacity of Eustace de Vireton, whom Gondi had especially commissioned to watch over Fabien and Elizabeth, had at all times baffled his manoeuvres ; but De Croissi did not doubt that if the power of the Coad jutor at any time declined, he might seize his victims by force, and which perhaps would not be then displeasing to the Queen. The lot of the young couple, therefore, seemed intimately connected with the fortunes of their protector, who maintained his unbounded influence amidst all the political changes and fluctuations of the time. At this epoch of revolutions and troubles events followed thickly one after another, and from the departure of Conde to Saint Maur great alterations took place at court. On the first warning of his danger, the Prince was staggered with the boldness of the project meditated for the purpose of getting rid of him, but he soon profited by the indigna tion which was publicly expressed when the plot became generally known. In fact Conde became more popular and powerful than before. He had required and obtained, the dismissal of Servien, Liunne, and Chateauneuf, who were suspected by him as the authors of the contemplated plot against his life ; he obtained a guarantee to enter Paris without fear of molestation; and at length, assured by every possible strong precaution, quitted ht. Maur, at tended by a magnificent train, and once more took pos session of his residence in the city. Day by day did he attend the Parliament, accompanied by a numerous reti nue, and if it had not been for the influence and bold front of the Coadjutor, he would have been the most powerful personage in Paris. Such then was the political aspect of affairs on the 21st August, 1651, about one month after the eventful escape from the palace. Upon the morning of this day the whole neighbourhood of Notre Dame was thronged by crowds of persons, who assembled to accompany the Coadjutor to Parliament. The sitting of the evening before, had been stormy, the yellow scarfs had shewn in superior number in the grand chamber, as Conde had assembled his partisans to shew that the old and legitimate faction should not humi liate the new. Gondi, on his part, prepared himself for the struggle, and all who sided with him were desired to meet him this day at the Palais de Justice. It might have been imagined that the Parisians were about to commence a battle, by the warlike preparations visible on all hands. The artisans, in their shops, rubbed off the rust from arquebuses that had beioiged to their sires in the time of the League. Everywhere was to be met with persons hearing great sabres, and sinking beneath the weight of ancient cuirasses, while to judge by the martial gait of certain citizens known to be of a paciac tempera ment, the attar, of the day seemed likely to turn out warm, since they wire induced to mingle in the expected pro ceedings. These preparations took a graver aspect in the vicinity of the cloister. There, might be recognised fewer of the clumsily armed citizens, and a far g eater number of sol diers, and well-mounted and well-equipped gentlemen. Materials were placed at the angles of the streets, so that barricades might instantaneously be erected, if necessary. Men were posted on the frowning towers of Notre Dame, with grenades. Severul houses were closed, and boarded up, to serve the purpose of fortresses. But in the princi pal court of the Petit Areheveque" were signs that could not be mistaken, and which presented the appearance of of an arsenal at the moment of an attack. Muskets, ar quebuses, and halberts, were ranged along the walk, while horsemen and foot soldiers pressed forward in that vast square, now become too small for their accommoda tion. In the centre were six coaches which were in tended to convey to the Pa l .ais-de-Justice the chiefs of the party of the Queen. Lacqueys and pages in liver), attached to the Coadjutor, ran about executing various commands in the very busiest way, in the midst of the horses and heaps of arms. They cried aloud, they shouted, while sonorous oaths made the holy echoes tremble. The confusion was enough to turn a timid man's brain, and the bustle of the scene was sufficient to raise an uneasy feel ing for the peace of the city of Paris. At the extremity of the immense buildings of the cloisters of Notre Dame, in a quiet chamber, the windows of which opened upon a little court-yard, where the infer nal noise without fell upon the ear with but a murmuring sound, sat Fabien and Elizabeth, side by side, attired in simple costume. They conversed in under tones, with out one thought of the tumultuous passions that were ex cited in the breasts of thousands near them. Dame Ger main, who had come to pay her accustomed visit, stepped out every minute upon the balcony, to see if anything were going forward below; and if a straggling cavalier happened to pass beneath the window, the officious but kind-hearted woman thus placed as a gaoler over them, duly reported the circumstance. Their conversation had taken a turn more sad perhaps than usual, and a profound melancholy seemed to have settled on their faces. In vain it was that Fabien en deavoured to console Elizabeth, and make her believe in what he himself, entertained no faith ; silence at length ensued, and they sat like the images of despair. Elizabeth wept upon her husband's breast. At this moment the Scholar, out of breath, darter'. into the room. Although he was clad in black, a handsome rapier was suspended at his side, which gave him an un usual martial air. Astonished at his sudden appearance, Fabien and Elizabeth instantly rose, while Dame Ger main uttered a cry of affright ; but the brave Scholar, without troubling himself with the disquiet he had occa sioned, said to Fabien, hastily— " Quick, quick, Mons. Fabien de Croissi ; get ready ; we only wait for you, to depart." " For me ?" exclaimed Fahien, overwhelmed with as tonishment ;whither would you conduct me P" " To Parliament." " Oh ! why is this, Sir P" asked Elizabeth, with terror, " Fabien will be recognised, arrested, or perhaps—" " I can answer you nothing, lady, but that my lord has ordered me to summon your husband, and it is certain that he has good reasons for what be does. If Ido not deceive myself, he meditates certain projects by which he will be enabled to bring you out of the false and un happy position in which you are now situated." " But how P by what means ?" " He has not told me any ; but merely given me in structions. He desires you, Mons. Fabien, to prepare to accompany him to the Palais de Justice, and that you attic e yourself in the same costume which you wore on the day of your presentation to the Queen. This he has expressly bidden me to tell you." " This is strange," said Fabien, looking at Elizabeth. " Obey our protector," replied the countess, with con fidence; " obey him, Fabien, without endeavouring to seek info his designs." " I obey," said Croissi, " because I have sworn to do so ; but it would seem to me that some prudence and pre caution —" " Come, come, throw over your shoulders your cloak, an d you will perhaps e.:cape all notice.. But, in the name of the saints, be quick, Mon•=i.nir tie Croissi ; I h-ar the :rumpets sounding to horse is the great court-yard, and the hour of audience is already past." Fabien placed a fervent kiss ou the fair brow of his young wife. " Courage, courage, dear Elizabeth," said he, smiling, " I hope our benefactor will make some effort for our deliverance. I shall, I know, bring you back good news." " Heaven protect you," said the young wife, who at the moment of separation burst into tears. " Quick, quick," cried the impatient Scholar. Eustace accompanied Fabien to his chamber, and as sisted him in a speedy change of dress. According to the wish of De Gondi he clad himself in the costume he wore on the night of his visit to the palace, buckled on a good sword, and wrapped his mantle round him, so as to con ceal his face, an act not unusual at the time, as it was customary for masks to be worn in the publi:: streets by both sexes, when they wished to pass along unknown. The two young men descended the grand staircase, and entered the court-yard already described. Fabie,i, at the first sight of the spectacle before him, was blinded by the brilliancy of the costumes of the gen tlemen and domestics who composed the escort. Nothing was to be seen but rich embroideries, gold lace, and arms glittering in the sunlight. Plumes of feathers of all co lours waved over the silken scarfs, which ornamented the persons of those present. De Croissi and the Scholar could hardly force a passage through this compact mass. They at length arrived at the door of a coach, which a valet who seemed to act as a master of the ceremonies, was endeavouring to close against the entry of three mus tached cavaliers who attempted to enter it. No sooner, however, did the valet perceive the two young men ap proach than he allowed them to take possession of the empty places, to the great annoyance of the cavaliers ; and after having made a mysterious sign to Eustace, was lost in the crowd. At length the Coadjutor appeared on the steps of the palace, and his presence was saluted by a thousand cheers. He had not yet assumed his Cardinal's cos tume : he wore lawn sleeves and a square cap, and his golden cross glittered on his violet camail. Around him was a magnificently-clad assemblage of gentlemen, amongst whom were MM. Chateaubriand, de Noirmon tier, de Fosseuse, de Montahrne, d'Argenteuil, de Se vigne, and many other illustrious men who adorned the time. " Vive le Coadjutor ! Vice La Fronde ! " cried the assembled multitude. The prelate graciously saluted his partisans, and thanked them by a smile. He then stepped into the first coach ; the gentlemen filled the others; and the cortege slowly left the court The train was of immense length. The whole of the way from Notre Dame to the Palais de Justice—the bridges, the quays, the streets—was crowded with the population, to witness the procession of the Coadjutor. N - ac might be heard the loudest cries of applause—now th hootiags and hissings of a knot of the other faction ; while numbers remained silent, or deplored in whispers to each other, the evils that could not but result from such a proud party demonstration. But it was in the neighbourhood of, and around the Palais de Justice—the very sanctuary of the laws—that the most novel, and at the same time painful, spectacle was presented. All the approaches were guarded by soldiers under the orders of the Coadjutor. The armed citizens filled the taverns in the vicinity, while in the court was a dirty, ragged mob, armed with bludgeons and sabres. It consisted of the very scum and off-gather ings of the thieves and vagabonds of Paris, who would have received pay to shout for any one or any thing, by the hour or day. The Coadjutor descended from his carriage in front of the great staircase i❑ the Rue de la Barillerie, which he had no sooner mounted than he was saluted afresh with cries of " Vice La Fronde ! " " Vice le Coadjutor ! " Nevertheless, amidst all these enthusiastic acclama tions, the quick ear of the chief could distinguish several voices c , ying " To Mazarin ! To Mazarin ! In the meantime he advanced towards the Great Chamber of Parliament, which is now the " Salle de la Cour de Cassation." The Scholar took care to place himself with Fabien in his way. The Coadjutor stopped opposite to them, and said quickly, but in a low voice, " So, so, trusty lieutenant ; I see you forge nothing." Nothing, my lord." . . " It is well ; and you, young sir," continued he, ad dressing Fabien, " put your trust in Master Eustache as you would in me ; he will provide for your safety. Cou rage. cheer up ! all will—all shall go well." Gondi immediately passed on, and joined his noble companions who were awaiting him a few steps apart; quietly resuming conversation with them, he entered the spacious hall. " You heard what my lord said, did you not ? You must, you see, trust implicitly to me. Your part will be easily played. Nothing is wanted but for you to appear before the parliament : your friends will do the rest." " Before the parliament !" repeated Fabien. " But neither you nor I have any right to enter there." " Well, we shall see that sir," said the Scholar • .1 it • t nt - us um] seat ourselves amongst the members ; but there are in the hall far more quiet places, and the Coadjutor has taken care to provide us with accommodation. Follow me, and before you speak, look well around you." While the Scholar thus spake, he conduct d Fabien towards the door of the Great Chamber; but at the moment they were passin,; through, a voice was heard which predominated over the buzzing of the crowd as sembted in the hall. At the same time the ushers pushed back the crowd with their silver staffs, and cried aloud, " Make way for his Highness the Prince de Cor.cle ! Make way for his Highness the Prince de Conti ! ' The two young men immediately crept between two pilasters, and saw the two princes mounting the stair case. attended by a retinue as numerous as that of the Coadjutor, and perhaps still more bri.liant. The gen tlemen, the p iges, arid the attendants, all wearing the yellow scarf, were covered with gems, feathers, and rib bons, producing • a splendid effect. Their manners and conduct aneared more turbulent and insolent than the Frondeurs who recognised Gondi as their chief, and at the sight of several grotesque citizens of the opposite faction they laughed loudly and rudely at the objects of their mirth. As soon as the Princes appeared, the Frondeurs re tired rapidly to that half of the Chamber next to the Rue de la Barillerie, leaving the other half unoceup ed for the new arrivals. In ordinary times the two fac tions mingled until the chiefs entered the parliament; but on this occasion the.re seemed such a probability of a conflict, that the two parties would not be seen together an instant. The Prince de Conde stopped in the midst of the Chamber, and leisurely examined his enemies. Conde was still young, and his figure, although not tall, pos sessed much masculine grace, and a boldness of cart iage which, while it was remarkable, was still majestic. His costume was magnificent. He wore beneath his peer's mantle a yellow dress, the colour of his livery, decorated with pearls and rubies. An immense diamond sustained his hat, in the style of Henry IV. All the orders of knighthood of his native land, and many of other coun tries, glittered round his neck and at his breast. His examination was not long. He spoke a few words to his brother Conti, a little hunchback, clad nearly like bithself, and who appeared to be his caricature, for while entering the Great Chamber he elevated his shoulders with disdain. " Now, now !" 'murmured Eostache, perceiving at length that the entree was free, and that several of the members passed through without difficulty. But, to the astonishment of the Scholar, Fabien remained motion less, his eyes fixed - towards a group who were talking loudly at some distance. Vireton followed the direction of his eyes, when his pre-occupation was at once ex plaine I. The two parties had traced a sort of line of demarcation in the Chamber between them by a tacit agreement, nor dreamt of passing over it till the mo ment for action occurred. Some few persons only of the different sides had advanced upon the limits of their re spective ground, exchanging between them gay pleasan tries, or at least politenesses. They recognised each other ; they called each other to them, without either bitterness or anger ; although perhaps the next moment they would cut each other's throats. Such were the manners of the times. Suddenly a great tumult arose on the side of the par tisans of Conde. A gentleman bearing a yellow scarf attempted to enter the Chamber, and was about to mix without ceremony amongst the nobles of his party ; but as soon as he was recognised, bursts of disgust and dis approbation were raised against him. Ills scarf of the colours of Conde was torn from him, and a thousand voices loaded him with reproof. " What do you here, traitor ? " cried one. "Do you come to spy again into our secrets to betray them ?—to sell them to the Coadjutor and the Court ?" "Turn out the traitor ! " " Turn out the spy " "He is unworthy of approaching his highness." He who was thus addressed with such bitter invec tives, who, pale and with disordered vestments, struck down the hands raised against him, was the Baron Albert de Croissi ! " Hear me ! hear me, gentlemen," said he, in a sup pliant tone. " You—you—mistake me. I have always been faithful to the Prince ; and the proof is, that I have now an important secret to reveal to him. You have heard that a plot bas been concocted against the life of his highness. I know the whole of the details. I will make him fully acquainted with them. He can then take vengeance against his enemies." Fabien shrunk back with horror. He had not thought his brother capable of so base and cowardly an act as that he meditated. " Still tricking," said a gentleman bearing the uniform of a captain of the guards of the Prince Conti. " Gen tlemen, let us turn out this spy of the Cardinal's, or at least let us send him back to his friends the Mazarins below." " Yes, yes ! let us send them back this double traitor," THE LIVERPOOL STANbAtlit NOTICES. The Farmers cud the League. Speeeh of Mr. Georoo Game Day, of St. Ines, at linatinlrli.n, January 27. 1844. London : John Officer, Pall Mall. • Mr. Day has already done good service in the warfare waged by the Anti-Corn-law League against the agricul turists of Great Britain ; and his second aprarince iii the field is in every way worthy of his previous reputation. In the pamphlet before us, which ought to be extensively circulated, he has fastened upon the League the erossest dishonesty, proving every statement which he brings for ward from their own accredited reports. To the manu facturing and town population he exhibits them engaged in declaiming upon the blessings of cheap bread, declaring that the corn-law has taken a third part of his food out of the working man's mouth, and promising, in the event of a repeal of the corn-law, bread at three farthings a pound ; and again turping to the farmer and assuring him that free trade would not have the effect of reducing prices a shilling per quarter below existing prices. As a specimen of Mr. Day's mode of treating his subject we extract from his pamphlet the folloWine LEAGUE INCONSISTENCIES. In July last Mr. Bright, prior to his election, wrote to the freemen of Durham, that "the corn-law had, for the past five yew's, caused them to pay twenty shillings a sack extra for their flour;" and he implored them, " on his bended knees, for their sakes, NOT His, for the sake of themselves and their families, to claim the right to have cheap food." Yet this identical Mr. Bright had, in the previous April only, stated, in the theatre at Plymouth, that ":the price of food was then probably much lower than it would be, if there were no corn-laws." Mr. Bright says, " I am a manufacturer, and Mr. Cobden is a manufacturer, and we have not the slightest love for low prices for. the goods we manufacture." No, and I dare say the farmer has no very great love for low prices for the goods he manufactures ! Mr. Bright attended a meeting amongst the farmers at Dorchester, when, he says, a con versation to this effect occurred :—One farmer stated, he had an estate worth about £5OO a year: £4OO went in interest on the mortgage, £5O in expenses, and the other £so.was i ttli behgot out of it. He asked Mr.. Bright what his condition would-be with a repeal of the corn-laws ? I am now telling you what the League itself reports. Mr. Bright replied, " Well, it would be a sorrowful condition ; but it is clear you would only lose about £5O a year 1" .This is what we lawyers: would call a.quietus But," said the farmer, "if that should-be the state of things, will not all the landed interest be reduced, and the result be a national 'bankruptcy ?" " - You mistake," replied Mr. Bright, -" perhaps there would be a few individual cases of bankruptcy, but there would be no national bankruptcy." Can you credit these things ? If I had read from any other paper than the League, you might have supposed the report to be inaccurate. But this League paper is, as they term it, ." the accredited organ of their opinions," and a " correct "record of their proceedings." 1 rimy, therefore, fairly quote it against the League with just the same force as I might quote a paper signed " James Rust," againiit Mr. James Rust, now in the chair. (Mr. Rust smiled, and nodded assent.) This " correct record" of the League's sayings and doings, then, informs us, that this farmer, who bad only £5O a year, would, by a repeal of the corn-lewti, -lose that £5O a year. He would ,not lose any more ! COBDEN'S CONSOLATIONS FOR THE BRITISH FARMER. This same Mr. Cobden, in a speech to the farmers of North Cheshire, said, " Ignltrant men have told you, that we want to throw open the . '„niarket to the foreigners ; 'and that, by doing so, we shoffl ruin the agriculturist, and, as a matter of course, destroy the home trade. Now, we want to do just the opposite of this. Instead of wanting to destroy it, we want to double the home trade, and treble it. And now, farmers, hear what he said to the people of Manchester, when be proposed to rid you of part of your home-market, and transfer it to the foreigner : If the Americans will only put down their monopolising manufacturers, and we put down our monopolising land owners here, when our election time comes, we will lay the Mississippi Valley alongside of Manchester, and we will have a glorious trade then !" " The Mississippi Valley has been styled, par excellence, the wheat-growing region of America. League authority informs us, that its soil is fertile beyond description, and abundantly wa tered by the finest springs and streams. Its climate is clear and salubrious. It possesses unequalled facilities for forei n intercourse and commerce, by means of its great lakes and rivers. The most distant parts of it are now reached in twenty days from Liverpool.' The land is mostly sold-in fee-simple by the government to the first purchaser, at ss, 6d. an acre. It is unencumbered by tithes, high taxes, or poors rates, and its whole produce belongs to the cultivator alone. The Mississippi Valley, which Mr. Cobden proposes to lay alongside of Manches ter, could alone supply this country with every bushel of corn it requires for consumption. Indeed, League autho rity says, ` A. few years would enable it to feed the world.' And yet, British farmers! Mr. Cobden seeks to persuade you that those men are ` ignorant' who tell you, that he wants to throw open the market to the foreigner !" On another occasion, he told the same people :—" Our doc trine is, let the working man ply his hammer, or his spindle, or his shuttle, and let the Kentucky or the Illinois farmer, by driving his plough on the richest land on the s irface of the earth, feed this mechanic or this weaver, and let him send home his produce in exchange for the Products of our operatives and artizans." Is this the way: farmers, that Mr. Cobden proposes to " double and tre- We" your home market, by transferring the manufacturing portion of it to the Kentuckian or the Illinois farmer ? Is it not, rather, evidence of a desire to carry out the plan, which another free trader, Mr. Joseph Hume, seemed to contemplate, when, in the House of Commons, he " maintained that England might exist and prosper as a purely manufacturing and commercial country, if it did not grow a single bushel o cprn —if- in egchanecio_its_ e mauractures and miners s, it imported from the cheap corn-producing countries every quarter of wheat required in this country !" Dear farmers, exclaims Mr. Bright, " let distrust be banished ! hy should we not be friends?" The League paper struggles to equal all that I have cited from Messrs. Cobden and Bright, on the sub ject of cheap bread. It says, "The finest Georgiana wheat can be laid down at the door of our factories at 30s. a quarter, dwe are now (October, 1839) paying 70s. or 80s. for the worst." " Spain could land the very best wheat in England at 405., for which we are now (October, 1839) paying 675." "In the American port of Cincinnati alone, there are a million quarters of wheat, which we could purchase at 165., or less than one-fourth the price nowNo Now, that at verycompelled to pay ea gu e f ourrin the samehome grown year, pro ducesaps, whenv e are w " writing of the landlords, that they "may sately do justice to others, without injuring themselves; for much d t , o e ‘ s , h e t o t w h. t 7 h a a t t 0 trah repeal p o , n a e i y of price the oefo corn - a l i a n w w s aid ill Mr. William Witham Barrett. of Manchester, was offered n A hl g st ai bb n eee : ino iT s s its readers, on the last day of 1840, " that a large order for manufactured goods, from a Hamburgh Merchant, if payment would be received in the best Baltic w leer, to be delivered, free of all charges, at Hull, at the rate of 30s. 61. per quarter." And yet, on the 20th of January last, it is boldly said, that " the League do not want to render corn cheap." And here is a little seal, (holding it up,) bought only last Thursday, at the League iace, Fleet -street,' for 4d., and on it is this sentiment, " Cheap bread, and good trade." cried a multitude of voices ; " he disgraces the Prince'„ cause." The captain of the guards, assisted by another gentle man, seized hold of De Croissi, and thrust him into the midst of the partisans of Gondi. " A present," cried the soldier, "from the new faction to the old. Take care of your precious jewel : we ask nothing in return." Shouts of laughter and applause welcomed this coarse jest. Well,",cried De Croissi, foaming with rage, point ing his finger towards the party of Conde, "since. you will have me your enemy, so be it. Brave people," said he, addressing the citizens who surrounded him, " I am now yours ; and I swear to you that I shall not be sorry to see you deal your lustiest blows amongst the insolent factionists " The'Citizens looked at De Croissi with a calm and steady gaze ; but the gentlemen on the side of the Co adjutor now surrounded him. " We want him not," cried the Chevalier de Laignes, Gondi's most intimate friend. " I declare that I know that De Croissi is persotilally obnoxious to the Coadjutor. We want no renegade... Let the new faction keep its presents to itself: we want no worthless gifts." A loud cheer welcomed this speech. Croissi endea voured in vain to he heard in ju*tkation. " We want no explanations," said. the Chevalier de Laignes. " Away from our ranks ! or we will turn you out by force." Ali that the passions of hate and shame could express upon the human face might have been read in the fea tures of the baffled and degraded De Croissi. His, eyes rolled; his teeth gnashed with rage. " Away, away ! " said the partisans of De Gondi, endeavouring to push him out of their company. "W e want you not." " If the traitor comes here, we will slit his ears," cried the captain of the guards. Croissi found himself between the two parties, like a wild boar persecuted by the hunters. He threw fierce glances around him, as if to seek some enemy on whom he could retaliate. He at length darted towards the captain of the guards, who appeared the most active against him, and said in a voice of thunder, "Although I have been disgracefully insulted, Marquis de Crenan, I am still a gentleman, and have a right to inquire the reason of this shameless conduct." " You a gentleman ! Pshaw ! Away !" " Well, then, I proclaim, in the midst of this assem bly, that you are a coward, and refuse to meet me in hvnourable combat." A terrific tumult now ensue d. The friends of De Crenan insisted upon it th a t h e s h ou ld not accept the challenge, upon the plea that De Croissi, by his trea cheries, possessed no claim to the distinction of a gen tleman. Others insisted upon it that the Marquis's honour had been called in question, and that he ought to meet his opponent, who thus had challenged him ,so publicly. Cretlan appeared to be of this opinion, for he exchanged several words in'a low tone with his antago nist, when, raising his voice, he said authoritatively, " Let no one now attempt to'resent either the words or actions of De Croissi. I will reckon with him." The assembly seemed satisfied with this, for at the epoch of which we write the laws of the " duello" had certain privileges, which were held ns sacred. " This , evening, then, sir," replied Crenan, with a grave tone, " you can meet me without fear of interrup tion." He saluted De Croissi politely, strangely contrasting with his previous conduct. Albert immediately bowed and quitted the hall, without any one taking further notice of him. (To be continued.) SELECTIONS. A BEDOUIN BRIDAL.—We were informed that the bride was safely boxed in the vehicle carried in the midst of her friends ; but, that in order to manifest a due re luctance to quit the virgin state, it was requisite she should be for.ibly carried off by her future husband, after a pro per degree of resistance had been manifested by the escort. No sooner had she reached the centre of the square, than the bridegroom with his adherent—some on foot and others mounted—approached from an opposite direction, and a scene of tumult occurred which it is difficult to imagine. The music (if such it could be called) struck up a louder livelier tune, swords were brandished, and amidst shouts and yells, under the discharge of musketry, the op posing parties—horse and foot—mingled in apparently deadly conflict, which ended in the defeat of the lady's party, who was then carried off in triumph by her amorous suitor.--(From Col. E. Napier's Wild Sports in Europe, Asia and Africa.) ETYMOLOGY OF MEOLS.—MeoIs or Meals, is a name which occurs in both the Eastern and Western counties of England, Mr. Baines, in his " Lancashire," traces the etymology of the word (North Meols) to the the Saxon dialect of the Teutonic melo, a grain of any kind, as " sand," in allusion to the numerous sand-dunes which form the sea barrier to this part of the country. "An Inhabitant of North Meols," in the Gentleman's Maga zine for this month, mentions an ingenious, though im probable devirations from the Greek, viz. me non, and alit mare, " no longer sea," because tradition asserts that the country was formerly inundated by the tides, where the feeble breakwater of sands now exists. The writer offers another derivation of his own, and asks, " Instead of a Saxon, might not the term naeol have a Celtic origin, and by a mere permutation of moel, a word still used in Welsh expreeits mountain or hill? In ancient MSS. the word is spelled meole, moles, or meols indifferently." ORIGIN OF THE STORY OF BLUEBEARD.—The annual authologies, published by Southey, were not much ap proved of by his friend, though he contributed to one of the volumes a p em of Bluebeard, which we believe was rejected. In defending it from some critical remarks made by Southey, Taylor has given an erroneous account of the origin of the legend. He says :—" The story of Bluebeard was invented by the Catholics as a satire on Henry VIII. Demonology was still cre lihle under James 1. I see no objection to dating the incident under bloody Mary. If the murder of half-a-dozen wives had been asc•ined to Bluebeard he would have been a mere mad man, beyond the limits of the artist's imitation, not a human being, and certainly not the centre of interest. It the story in the dark chamber had been pure tr igedy, un spoiled by hanging tip the head to talk like the barber's block in the pantomime, the first wife would have been more ioterestirg than the second, contrary to tlv law of climax. So much by the way of apology rather than de fence." The story of Bluebeard is as old as the crusades, if not older, and, so far as its earlier forms can be traced. it was designed as a satire on the marriage of Christian ladies with Saracenic or Turkish chieftains. The earliest version of it with which we are acquainted is the Sicilian, the hero being one of the Saracenic chieftains who occu• pied a piratical stronghold in Sicily before the Norman invasion. Some foll.,wer of the Guiscards brought the le.;end into France, where it was repeated in a variety of forms. One of rsion of it, now before us, is named "La Comtesse de Saulx," and clearly belongs to the periotl of Norman romance, the language beine the same as that of the " Chroniques Anglo-Norrnands." It is true that some foreign satirist.: of the reformation have identified Henry VIII. with Bluebeard, bat, in doing so, they trove clearly applied an old story instead of inventing a new fable. At hence urn. A GLORIOUS OPPORTUNITY FOR ATTORNEYS AND BARRISTERS.—If an attorney has any business at all e must do well in Melbourne, tor his fees are inordinately high. Protesting a bill is five-and-twenty shillings ; noting, half-a-guinea : every letter demanding payment of account, if under twenty pounds, halt-a-guinea; above twenty and under a hundred pounds, one guinea; above a hundred, two guineas. Every summons (a summons being a short printed form) before the supreme court is charged six guineas : and the clients pay down at once, without any questions, too glad to do so, provided they can get rid of their temporary difficulties. Litigation is short and quick. Conveyancing is downright profit ; a deed, however short. conveying a piece of land, however trifling, costs 6ve guineas. There are no stamps, and the work is done in an hour. More valuable properties are conveyed by a deed generally charged nine guineas. My friend--has drawn twelve such deeds in his office in the course of one day ; and with these eyes I have seen him earn six guineas in as many minutes, by appearing at the police office when a dispute has arisen between a master and his servant. All quarrels of this kind are arranged at the police office, when the amount of wages received by the servant does not exceed thirty pounds annually. An attorney with brains cannot fail to get a-head. He has only to use despatch, and to begin and continue in one even and undeviating course. Our bar risters are few in number. There are but four of them. There is still a glorious field for a barrister of talent, and especially if he be conversant with the nicer points of conveyancing. Any clever barrister, nit to_ the business, and a good speaker, rii - iglit - reTrirp - o - n making immediately, at least, a thousand a-year ; the community are looking and waiting for such a man.—Blackwood. SPECIMEN OF A RACE NE At t LY EXTINCT.—A n d really it might have confused a less mo d es t man t h an Tom to find himself sitting next that coachma n ; f or of all the swells that ever flourished a whip, professionally, h e m i g h t have been elected emperor. - He did'nt hanale his gloves like another man, but put them on—even When he was standing on the pavement, quite detached from the coach —as if the four greys were, somehow or other, at the ends of the fingers. It was the same- with his hat. He did things with his hat, which nothing but an unlimited knowledge of horses and the wildest freedom of the road, could ever have made him perfect in. Valuable little parcels were brought to him with particular instructions, and he pitched them into his hat, and stuck it on again ; as if the laws of gravity did not admit of such an event as its being knocked off or blown off, and nothing like an accident could befall it. The guard. too! Seventy breezy miles a-day were written in his very whiskers. His manners were a canter; his conversation a round trot. He was a fast coach upon a down-hill turnpike road t • he was all pace. A wagg on could not have moved slowly, with that guard and his key-bugle on the top of it. These were all foreshadowings of London, Tem thought, as he sat upon the box, and looked about him. Such a coachman and such a guard, never could have ex isted between Salisbury and any other place. The coach was none of your steady.guing, yokel coaches, but a swaggering, rakish, London coach ; up all night, and lying by all day, and leading a devil of a life. It cared no more for Salisbury than it it had been a hamlet. It rattled noisyly throt.gh the best streets, defiled the ca seivwe rhe re, along the m aki ng ia o k p i e n n g c e % r t ) , ; t t r t y i i . t r i g o agde,t blowingo ut f its a thcdral, took th e worst corners sharpest, went cu t t i n g i n l w iv a e y ly ; a d n e d . fiance out of its key-bugle, as its last glad parting legacy. , Mar tin Chuzzluit. FASHIONS FOR MARCH. Prom the London and Paris Ladies' Magazine of Fas h ion ) Under the name of robes de chambre, very pretty morn ing tie' s /Hy; dresses are made, of plain cachemeire lined with yauft6 satin, which is a pretty novelty for this pur pose; they are ornamented by two biais, one matching 'he lining and revers, the other of dark velvet, with gimp between; they are also made of printed or Braganza vel vet, ei,ising from top to bottom with bradenbourgs ; the sleeves are wide and long, with cuffs or a l' Orientale to the elbow. and tight under ones of the same materials, lacing up so as to show the one of muslin ; the open sleeves, with under ones, are so generally in use now that much attention is paid to the make of these white ones ; some are of guipure or rich lace, but many are made of inlets, one row of wbich is almost tight over a ribbon, the the other row forming bouillon; the caps fashionable with this toilette are of embroidered India muslin trimmed with Valenciennes lace, having double brides of ribbon, one pair tying, the others loose, or of guipure lace, the only ornament being lappets of the same. Gimp and braid are still much used, as well as embroidery, on dresses ; there is a new style of braid, with the edges pearled, which has a richer effect; some indoor redingotes are made-with revers, showing the chemiselle made of inlets and colonnes of work; the skirt is also with revers, which if not joined shows the under skirt full trimmed. For carriage dresses the high b .dies are ornamented with braid or braden bourgs. Walking dresses are generally plain in the skirts, though fashion tolerates a double flounce of moderate width, or a plissé of ribbon down the front, the corsages high and tight, as well as the sleeves ; the principal thing observable in ball dresses is, that the corsages are worn higher, some even what are termed half high ; drape's and Grecian corsages are fashionable, the steeves'are short, and frequently entirely covered by Oriental sleeves of lace, and the berihes are worn so deep as often to cover the sleeve; for dancing the skirts are shorter, others con tinue long, double and treble skirts continue in favour, but the newest style is a single skirt en biais, for tulle, white, pink, blue, green, &c. The hair is much orna mented by flowers, mounted either en couronnes, with bunches forming diadem, or twisting round the coiffiere; ringlets or bandeaux are equally fashionable. Many re silles of gold or silver are twisted round with geuze or velvet, in the turban style ; some fanchons of cachemire or crape lisle with silver fringe are merely fastened on the head with two diamond pins. Dress hats of black lace, with bugles, or of blond, or pearls, or pink crape, have a bouquet formed of tips of feathers, fastened by an emerald brooch. The spring bonnets have not yet appeared in great va riety ; the forms continue of moderate size, one of the newest trimmings is fluted ribbon round the front, which is frequently lined with guipure on the capotee, with wide runners ; lace often replaces the ribbon. Capotes of pale coloured satins are often covered with black lace and or namented by a drooping marabout. A SCENE IN THE LORDS.—On Tuesday, after a delay of a few minutes, and a dead pause—there being no busi ness before the House—The Lord Chancellor, sotlo voce —"Campbell, have you nothing to say ?" Lord Camp bell shook his heed. The Lord Chancellor.—" Brougham, oh. do say something." Lord Brougham would not be seduced. He shook his head too; but in the meantime rose and took his seat on the woolsack. This motion without a speech had as much signification in it atra thou sand speet•hes without a motion. Their lordships laughed heartily at this entertaining pantomime. After the pre sentation of a few petitions, on one of which Lords Camp bell and Brougham contrived to have a speech a-piece, their lordship s adjourned to Thursday.—Morning Post, 131RTEIS, DEATHS, AND MAIMIAGES. , The fifth annual report of the Registrar.Cleneral of Bi,th., Deaths, and Marriages, in England, (lately issued Irani Somerset House.) vmhrm.es a large mas of deeply interesting and important molter. The mat riages, births, nod deaths, in the years 1839. 1840, and 1811, a ere as follows:- 1839. 1849. IR 1. Marriages .... 123.165 - 122.665 122.4913 Births ... 492.574 5U2 393 512.158 Deaths ........ 338,979 359.6.34 343,847 The marriages in 1841 were 1 in 130; births, 1 in 31 ; deaths, 1 in 46 of the population ; the average of the two preceding years having been, of marriages, 1 in 127; births, lin3l ; deaths, lin 45. Thu s i n 181 1, 769 mar riages, 3,217 births, and 2,160 deaths. were registered to every 100,000 of the population. The marriages hav e diminished slightly in number every year. The falling off was chiefly in the metropolis, in Cheshire, Lancashire, Yorkshire, and the western division of the kingdom. There was a remarkable decrease in Monmouthshire. The fluctuation is coincident with the depression or pros perity of industry or trade in various parts of the country. The greatest number of marriages took place in autumn, and the smallest in winter. The report contains an ab stract of the number of widows and widowers re-married ' in the last 'half-year of 1811. It appears of 65,498 women married, 5,888, or 9 in 100, were widows ; of the same number of men, 8,476, or 13 in 100, were widowers. During the years 1839, 1840, and 1841, the average an nual number of marriages was 122,777, so that 106.957 men, and 111,765 women, or 218,740. persons, marry every year. One in every 72 males, and 1 in 72 females, are mar ried annually in England. The proportion of.re-mar riages is greate4t in the metropolis, and in the northern, western, and York divisions, where the mortality is high est, and where families are therefore most frequently broken up by the death of the husband or wife. Under the age of 21, 5,362 men, and 16,285 women, were mar ried. This is a startling discrepancy. 33 in 100 men, and 49 in 100 women, married in 1841, signed the regis ters with their marks„ Of the 122,496 marriages in 1841, 114,371 took place in conformity with the rites of the Established Church ; 13. by special license ; 972 by super intendent-registrar's certificate. By bans, 94,298 were married; by licens-, 19,088. Of the 8,125 marriages not performed in the Established Church, 5,882 were in re ' in_saperintendent-regis trarsoffices, 66 between Quakers, and 113 between Jews; During 184"., 151 additional buildings have been registered for the solemnisation of marriages. BIRTHS. In 1841, 512.158 births were registered; in 1840, 502,303; 1839, 492,574. Three births were registered to every two deaths. The rate of births over deaths during the three years, (1839, 1840, and 1841.) was 474,575, or 158,192 annually. More births take place in winter than in summer. Years. Years. Winter. Spring. SummerlAutumn. Total. 1839 .... 123.543 128.806 120,115 120,110 492.574 1840 .... 132,305 129.059 119.822 121.117 502,31.13 1841 .... 133.720 129,884 123,868 124,686 512,150 Total .... 389.568 387,749 363 805 365.913 1.507.027 Mean.... 129,85 ) 129.250 121 268 1121,971 502.345 In the last two qu irttrs of 1841, of 248.554 ch ldren registered, 15,839 were illegitimate ; so 1 in 16 of the children born in England is not born in wedlock. In England f 4 to 1000 children are born illegitimate. The proportion in France is 71 in 1003. Of the legitimate births the boys are to the girls as 105.4 to 100.0; of ille gitimate births the boys are 108.0 to 100.0. DEATHS The deaths in the year ending December 31, 1841, amounted to 343,847. Upon comparing the deaths in 1840 and 1841, there will be found a decrease of 16,787. The deaths were more numerous (99,069) in the winter of 1841 than in the winter of any preceding year ; but in the spring the decline commenced, which reduced the mortality in the following quarters below t'le mean mor tality of the four years. The deaths in the four winter quarters, viz., those of 1839, 1810, and 1841, were 385,764; in the four summer quarters, 305,333; the deaths in the four springs, 355,248; in the autumns, 338,662. If the mortality were uniformly at the same rate as in the winter, 391.059 deaths would happen annu ally; if at the same rate as in summer, 302,827 deaths would be registered. These exhibit the striking effects of cold upon mortality • also of the crowding and privations to which a considerable portion of the population is ne cessarily more exposed in cold than in warm weather. The births and deaths are most numerous in winter, mar riages in autumn; whilst the smaller number of births and deaths occur in summer, and marriages in winter. An elaborate tabular statement, we are happy to say, establishes a decrease of the high rate of mortality which prevailed in 1839 and 1840 in the manufacturing divisions. The marriages and births are most numerous where the mortality is highest. STATE OF TRADE. MANCITE4TER.—We have conversed with many upon the re sult of this week's business, and the version of each is so con tradictory, that we are hardly prepared to say what is the actual state of our market; but, from all we can gather. we would say that the end of last week, and the early part of this things were flat compared with two or three previous weeks. The buoyancy for the last few days. in Liverpool, has stimulated the buyers here, and a considerable amount of business has been done where the parties would concede a little in price. which some of the manufacturers have done, and printing cloth may he quoted rid. per piece lower, and domestics FL to id. per yard. We are still of opinion that no ma , erial change in favour or buyers will take p .lay =ma arta II Ivo. "prised' u the packet that arrives here from America about the :4th of this month, does not cau-e another excite rent in Liver pool; for she will bring the resu:t of the efnct pi o :tiled there by the news " of the greatest cotton week" ewer f.n iwn in Li verpool ; for even the last accounts, received on Thursday. can not fail to convince us that every elfol making to keep bf ck cotton, and that every strata ? . .em will be used to advance the price. They will draw u ion Orieaus. a d then upon I i:erpool, for the bankers are equally interested with h' pl inters and, in spite of all we can do, we fear they will tH t() much for us, and keep up the pr ce for some mon hs to come. .7 inei 6 i's, 5 194 d.; and 72's, 6s. 92. to 7s. lid. —Madolterter Advertiser of Saturday. Lsgos,—The influx of Ifetropoltan and Irish buyers, usual in the closing week of each calendar month, ha- been as large during the past week as for several months past, and a good bu siness has been done. This has inspirited our merch nits. who have bought freely in the Cloth Halls when likely goods offered, and the stocks are now considered l iw as many of the clothiers are now making to order. The Woollen Cloth trade does not admit of so much speculation s the Worsted trade, in conse quence of the spinner and manufacturer of Wool en being gene rally the same person, else we might have had to record a greater advance in prices than has taken plum. BRADFORD MARKET.—The demand for goods rt this market on Thursday was as large as for some tine past, and me tran sactions were considerable when someth ttg near late prices could be acceded to ; but although the merchants did in some instances give rather better prices, there was an evident dispo sition on their part to cheek the upward tendency of prices by buying only for immediate wants. Yarns were in request. and as there are no stocks in the market, and scarcey any coming forward, (nearly all the spin , ers being employed on orders.) late rates were fully maintained. Notwithstanding. therewas a good business done for shipment. The transactions in th , Wool Market were not quite so an mated as of late, but the staplers held firmly for late rates. FlunnsusFinom MARKET. —The demand fir goof's at this mai ket has been better towards the close of the ntr nth than it was at the beginning-, not only in f oicy goods of new ns, but in plain Cloths of crdinar.. quality. 0. Tuesday the market was brisk. especially for those descriptions of goods. The Wool market was steady, the staplers not being disposed to give way, and the manufacturers being reluctant to buy beyond their lin. mediate wants HAI IFAX MARKET.—There was a brisk demand for goods and Yarn at this market on Saturday, especially the latter, which sold readily at late rates. The demand I,r Wools was, perhaps. scarcely equal to that of the prececing market-day, but the prices were very firm. WAKEFIELD WOOL M ARKET. - -Although few sales have been effectA in any description of Wools this week, holners are firm at fu i 1 prices. ECKMODWIKE BLANKET MARKET.--Monday there was only a thin attendance of buyers, owing probably to the very heavy fall of snow which had fallen, and which made the roads in th neighbourhood almost impassable. Thursday there was not much business done in the Hall, but we understand that the manufacterers generally have as many orders on hand as will see them into the month of April. ROCIIDALE FLANNEL MARKET.—The demand for fianne's to day has been very much the same as for the last three weeks. Prices are low, considering the late advance in wool ; anti some of the manufacturers refuse to sell without a greater adv , nce, than the merchants are willing to give. The Wool market has been more quiet to day, but prices continue very firm, and, if any thing, are rather on the advance. THE LEICESTER TRADE.—Though many of the growers doubtless wish to obtain a still further advance on Woois, we do not hear that any has taken place, nor that there is like!, to he any given, unless purchases are unavoidable. In Yarns there is no alteration. In common and low goods, both cotton and worsted, there has been a fair amount of business doing at a trifle higlier than old rates, yet not up to the late advances in the law material. All parties are evi :ently acting with caution, in consequence of the sudden and speculative advances above alluded to, which have been so madubeyond what the present state of the - meriret them to stand.--Leicester Chronicle. Hosi ERV AND LACK TRADies.-,The cottataltosiery trade still keeps in its improved state, and some of the branches, such as the cut-up hose, are yet brisk, and in some departments very brisk ; and as there has been a rise of twopence per dozen on the wages the situation of that numerous discription of work men has been ameliorated. 'This advance is all clear wages, the charges for frame rent and other s ch deductions being the same. The cotton and cotton-thread glove branch still keeps very brisk, though some months since hands engaged in this manufacture were in a most depressed state. The wrought cotton-hose branch, yet the main stap'e of the bowery trade, has if anything improved, e pecially in the finer qualities. The fancy cotton-hose branch, which was a most extensive and valuable manufacture, is still considerably depressed : the articles generally made are eyelet-hole sandal hose, rather i imitating lace, and a few tuck hose worked n small devices, the articles being in general made by tucking a light and dark coloured thread. The silk branches still keep in the most de plorable condition, whether plain silk, silk knotted, silk glove, or the fancy hose branches. The fancy bobbin net trade h as but little improved, and many machines are standing, or are making alterations. On the other hand, the plain trade, b ot h for pieces and Tiillings, has surprisingly rallied, the publi c having discovered the stability of the plain nets, which are mostly traversed, and are good sound articles. The w ar p cotton lace branch is still extremely brisk, and we hear at length of a scarcity of hands; whilst others are urged not by any means to lose their time from employment.—Nottitsgham Journal. A SPECIMEN OF YOUNG ENGLAND.—D ur i ng the de batetion in favour of Don Carlos, Mr. Hope, th e mem b er for last Tuesday evening, on Lord J o h n M anners ' s mo- Maidstone, rose to address the house at the same moment w ith Mr. Montagu Gore. The hon. member was in full evening dress, and bad a double t e l escope opera -glass in his hand. On rising he was greeted w ith much laughter, and his friends behind bim, pointing to Mr. Gore, pulled him back by the coat. The hon. member gravely raised his opera-glass, and turning ro un d, slowly surveyed those who had committed the trespass upon the nether part of his outer garment, and then resumed his seat amidst shouts of laughter.—Timet, March 5, 1844. DOMESTIC. faSt t" FIRE AND Loss OF L I V E S % AtIODt ha- D ... the &duck on 'Tue s day m.srni, g l as t, a fire broke cut 003/1,, premises occup i e d as a s h op an d dwelling-honsfil eco bs Aaron Jac o bs, it. St. Eboe-streer, Osford. mr, a nd was a gent le , ,lan of the H e b r ew per s uasion, rau;';',4s believed to be very we a lthy. Hi s family con sisteo_ the wife, a son, a nd th ree d aug h ters, an d two lodgers lu gt, house. Of these, tex escaped in a state of n oditf• mete g b Jacobs assisted i n l e tti ng hi s w if e , sun , and two dauit down by the window ; b u t not hi ng was s een of th e e c r i i daughter, Rebecca, aged 15, who must have perish? !s t tee t ' gether with her father. It i s su pp,,,, e d that the tst after the escape o f hi s w if e an d other ch ild re n, Wen N . small closet, at the top of the house,. to save sonl!P pe , pert)+, and was suffocated before he could make his T a ao d His body was found with the feet and head burnt om tb - a quantity of. gold, ail s , r , and other valuables ben ea The house was compl e t e d gutted. itb FEVER FROM DESTITUTION.—Dr. Southwoo d S °the has just given his annual report upon the state abide London Fever Hospital during the past year. from 140 , it appears that the ad m i ssions d ur i ng the period were eg r, being an excess of 4Hi ab ove th at o f any pre ceding Y, A large proportion of th e i nma t es were ag ricultutva o o bourers or provincial mecha n i cs , w h o h a d come to 'A i ° t io in search of employment, an d w h o were seized wit'•lsh malady either on the road or soon after their gni, evincing the clos e c onnex i on b e t ween i ever an d d e stitot h i ° o These poor creatures asc r ib e d th e i r ill ness, some ef .„t of to sleeping by the sides of h e d ges , an d others W v h , of clothing, many being without .stockings, shirts, s hee- e le• any apparel capable of defending them from th e je teJ mency of the weather • while the larger nu m ber attrio ll it to want of food, being driven by hunger to eat 7,, vegetables, turnips, and rott en app l es . Th e gr oss e 3 o f tality was 151 per cent. A n unprece d ente d numb et o i nurses and other servants of the hospital were attar with fever, namely, 29, of whom six died.—Globe• 4 MATERNAL CRUELTY.--011 Monday last, an in t i u • e fJ, was held at Longborougb, on th e b o dy o f an i n fast k es by John Gregory, Esq., when the following Port° 0 were given in evidence :—Th e mo th er , M ary G a rnet', ° he the wife of George Garner, of Sh ee p s h ea d, f rom wbolof ee separated about a year ago, h av i ng f orme d a c one° with a man named Higgs. The deceased child sbe t lt with her, which was then about twelve months old' th h a e t h t i i r m ed e litardgwaisneas? where she neh ealthyand thechild. chi ld live d , For som e 15 s was deposed that she was in the habit of boiling OP I A - A l . and water and treacle, and giving the mixture twice a to the child, to quiet it, while she would leave it for bo% to associate with Higgs. The guilty pair then went „" housekeeping, from which t i me t h e child altered e much for the worse. Sar a h Fli n d ers, mother of 131,8" d Garner, having her suspicion s awa k ened, she o', neighbour (Mary Allwood) de man d e d to see the chid when permission was refused until she threatened to s e a, for a constable. On going into the room the child ra found lying on the floor covered with a few rags, sa turat with water, its lower extremities paralysed, the lc": body emaciated to the last de gr e e , an d d ea f an d bill The child was then taken f rom th e i n h uman mot her st ) t, her brutal paramour, when it lingered till Saturday and then died. A poet mortem examination was an when the corpse was found to be totally destitute of 01 7; cuter substance; but the immediate cause of death w 5 5„ effusion of water on the b ra i n , w hi c h was probably P,v: duced by the treatment it had undergone from its 1011 1 1 ; tural parent. A verdict of manslaughter was returvel against Garner and Higgs.—Leicesiersh' Mercury. THE LATE ABDUCTION OF A Y OUNG L ADY. --"Ther e ' Mii, appeared last week a pa r a grap h respect i ng the e xtra or if nary abduction of a young l a dy name d J ane Page, cujrge 13 years of age, by a young farmer of the name of Ges. Gardner, from a seminary in High-street, Warow n , £5O reward was immedi a t e ly o ff ere d f or their apPrebetil sion •, but the police were unable to trace them out e n o i last Saturday night, when they were discovered quarte at an inn in Douglas, in the Isle of Man, having un f away just a week. a n d capture d f u ll 2 50 miles from ttedy native place. Gardner was i nstant l y ta k en i nto co st by the police, and havi ng b een conveyed to Stretron,n o sr Warwick, he on Wednesday last underwent an exatois'i, tion at the public-office bef or e M r . J . F u l lerton, a c oos , magistrate, the following being the substance of the deuce, which will be found to be of a very eetaarkv,,,, character :—The young lady is the d aug h ter o f a wesit', farmer at Stretton, and, upon her attaining her 18th, com into po , session of a large estate. The prisoner is a i. , very respectable and wealthy, an d b e i ng des i rous o f coming a farmer, he was apprenticed to the young la 6 T pa:rnt, so as to be instructed in the several branches J agriculture. He was considered as one of the family, I f freq ently had an opportu n i ty o f v i s i t i ng the young 1!,10 whilst at school, hut, owing to her very tender age, ns was entertained by their friends of an intimacy ex isting' On last Saturday week th e pr i soner went to the semivar't,; and informed the Mi ss Ki m b er l ey, the proprietors, Lbji he was instructed to convey Miss Page to her Pa re i lat residence, as she was go i ng to stay t h ere a short t i me a g a tew friends; and, under such circumstances, she ea4ily parted with.—The magistrate, in reviewing the el, re - narked that if the prisone r ' s d e f ence s h ou ld b e that t ` e , young lady was a willi ng p ar t y , i t wou ld not alfer t he off•nce, as he had absconded with her at such a tender go th it she was considered not t o k now r i g h t from wil/ext /Id was then fully committed to t a k e hi s tr i a l at the s assizes at Warwick, being liberated on two sureties 4300; and himself in a like sum.—Times. weed . LAMENTABLE SUICIDE.—On Su n d a y mor ni ng about eight o'clock, the inhabitants of Caistor w e thrown into the gre a t es t consternat i on b y the diSCNot pariso, and rector or too adjoining vdta g o,or FtoW v. u ha ta d t c ijie . R . e it v t . ed Gg s o u r i z c e id j e V u t t7e . r , peculiarly ete d d i s v tr ie e a ss r:4 3: e t l: cutnstances. Mr. Watson was a gentleman of very *"• fined mind, and so extremely sensitive to even the pearance of injury or disrespect, as to exhibit, when utta!: excitement or trouble, strong marks of mental aberratten, him to Some monthswrite a ago let N t i er in consequencet so n's morbid Mr. l slight, to the wife of one o f hi s par i s hi oners at R o thw . “ which letter was made the su bj ect o f coo , p l a i n t to 11 : «' arson's ibi of sensibilities some Bishop, and led to the issuing of a commission of ingTq under the Church Discipline Act. On Friday week tot % commission was executed, and the commissioners repos; ed—not on the innocence or culpability of Mr. Wat s° ,, e i ,s f there ofH appeared wasthatpea rea were d t p h rt e io y mbaef iaachi n oe uo case i t s) e h z the :o j n u rd d ergur e r s gt — tri : b ar: ne cv m ce e : l : tg l r Y ai adding, however, to their return the fact, that Mr. "" 3 , e and infirmity of mind. This cloud, over a reputati: which had hitherto been unsullied, was too much for 34 ,),; Watson's sensitive mind to hear. On the SaturdaY P 4 s v ( r )o e s a s i t o o n b , e g a e l t iz e t d h . e better Th e unfortunate n . '' previous distress hail settled into despondency, aud P e expressed fears that the affair would, to use his own O r ; seven o'clock on Sundae morning, rose from his and, in his diessing-govin and slippers, went into D'a g T e h n e tt s e e m f a e t a t s tL eu d t sitting.roorn, where he appears to have loaded a gun 49 0 discharged its contents into his mouth. His skull s'i j dreadfully shattered, and i.e was found, as before s :atet about eight o'clock, of course qui , e dead. The coroner] jury cam e to a nnan i tnous vet di That the deceits': had d , stroyed himself while labouring te,der mental rt i rangement.” Mr. Watson was 44 years of H ew Presented to the vica rage o r C a i stor, b y the Rev. W . (now Dr.) Pook, Prebendary of Caistor, in 1833, an' l the rectory of Rothwell, by Lord Yarborough, in 183 5 * the CURIOUS CASE OF SWIND LING .—A stranger , ; .rs he garb of a female, a b ou t t h ree wee k s ago walked into t"..1 bar of the Do g an d G un I nn , C oventry. Her c h e ers!: conversation, and insinuating manner, so won upon tr e landlady, (Mr. Hales,) that in s tead o f p rocee di ng by t_l' ae Banbury coach, which she p ar ti cu l ar l y w i s h e d , s h e 7: 1 " induced to stay all n i g ht, b e i ng unprepared w i th c l o tbt; to encounter the inclemency of the season. The worT a , hostess becoming more a n d more c h arme d w i th t he !, teresting stranger, several days elapsed in the mututl'4 terchanges of affection ar:d c on fid ence , w h en h er frte" o remarked that it might appear strange to Mrs. Hales t,,j she offered her no money. "The fact is," says shet nir have a remitta nce o f £6OO I expect to rece i ve at the P t mingham Branch of England Bank ; but how to g e there I know not. W ou ld you have the ki n d ness to ee company me in your g i g ? I have always consulted Y°a during my stay here, a n d i n t en d to make you my Conr, dance." Mrs. 11. co mp li e d , and with her freed ceeded to Birmin g h am t h e f ollowing morning. Cm s P r y riving at the Bank, inquiry was made for the mr,nager%;4l whom the stranger wished to know if £6OO had been P_nre to the account o f Mi ss Watts, to which a negative " 0 1 given. Gre a t surpr i se was manifested by Miss W- , 4 r ip the manager was requested to till up a cheque for Hales to receive the amount, provided she did not P; ( 4 sent it herself. On thei r wa y h ome , Mi ss W. aPPe Ls. concerned at her disappointment, and suggested to..Zir H. that, as her present exigences required a littlfriTO money, she, would place, tbo.chgck in•. Mrs., .11404 se for aloan cd".£6o, veA and would give her £4O-tbr the be cammodatioo.... swallowed .ZAvait-vves - by Mrs. H. forthwith produced fifty-five sovereigns and a£s new Mrs. ff.:proud - % tho eotripanY of Miss W., and me, W. highly delighted with Mr s. 11 ., spent several agrese i re i f o u n s t e a d gu to e. lea co v e n her Nio n c d a a rd y. days, during which the once paid a visit to. the seat of Lord Craven, at Coombe Abbey, with Mr. Hales! o t e he ria s m th e : a sa 'and gig. On being informed by the housekeeper, 1 11* . Robinson, that her ladyship was not at home , iklis e .,elV known to her ladyship, and expected soon to be 14 '• _ d oe made for the horse and gig to convey her to Market ist,i borough, where Miss W. had an aunt, who she ""ii, learnt, was not likely to live. No objection was offe_,Og. and Mr. W. anticipating the use of mourning, borrr o j the habiliments of. Mrs. Hales, very generously o ke .,b. for. her convenience, together with a valuable otieo Thus equipped, she arrived at Harborough, and alig u t ot y re in q g ue s s h t ,e w w as as r, " : opposite Mrs. Saunt's, observing she was afraid her e j, was dead, as the blinds welt, down. The man o , " sib sired to go to Swan's hotel and wait for her. Mias ne ta walked forward to th e U n i on i nn, where she took 61;001 brandy and water, with a biscuit ; and after staying s ot two hours, went to the Swans to inform John that hec to r was very ill, an d w i s h e d h er to stay a few days enri borough ; he must, therefore, return without her , ...,;01 bring the g i g f or h er on T ues d ay. the 13th, dischelbe) the expenses of John and the horse, with a promis e tbs of 10s. for his journeys, and 4s for what he paid oQ hr road. On the return of John, Mr. and Mrs. Haild, came somewhat concerned respe c ti ng th e i r f a ir fr.b and on the following mornin g di spatc h e d J o h n of policeman to Market Harborough, to take proper ° I LA Miss W. This, however, was round to be unneee7 e of as the clever and interesti ng v i s i tor h a d taken 101 l herself, by procuring a seat in th e omn ib us for V', se on the previous evening. 'W e m i g h t a dd, the dre e ,,, sr e ,„ under garments obtained of M rs . H., w i t h the wat ch ' leP considered worth from £l5 to £2O; while t 131 - 00 behind are estimated at 2s 6d. Miss W. has 0* been heard of—Oxford Herald: A ~_ I SA, 1..,,,, i , ►eeir a %lea la ke %tea hot lt, ANT 'Cie( 3 0] LION 4r. An sow] % ut! GI, , Sal 'Or tl La 1)4 31 fo r N e l Di c /cov. ih, ; Ito Fri i2 c l t Eli iron, pre sorl,an, liii der° , Para' P; ) 10 1 •Ogg c I Ael Um Fh /lan terid At boor, sr loth, Art ßl 44,1 ~S a. ar7" c a. , 13 ar f, qltta