The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1845-04-01 00:00:00

,7 ) tteraturr. soul of the departed. `There, father!' said he, as he THE PUBLISHING SEASON.—So dull a publishing sea arose at last, and in a voice as if addressing a living per- son has been rarely seen as is the present. Since our last, son at his side; ' there, father : the Lord, he knows my but one work of importance has issued from the press, heart inside me; and if walking the world barefoot would and there is little of importance to look forward to. We give ye peace or ease, I'd do it, for you were a kind man much fear, indeed, that cheap reprints are producing the and good father to me.' He kissed the coffin as he spoke, effect of banishing original works ; for books that must and stood silently gazing on it. remunerate an author cannot possibly compete in price " Arousing himself with a kind of struggle, he untied with such as have no copyright, and cost nothing but print the cords, and lifted the coffin from the cart. For some and paper; and, unhappily, the public appears to estimate seconds he busied himself in arranging the ropes beneath cheapness above all other attractions. Thus the diffusion it, and then ceased suddenly, on remembering that he of knowledge, as it is termed, has its evils as well as its could not lower it into the gr ve unassisted. advantages. But it is done, and our booksellers should " ' I'll have to go down the road for some one,' mut- now consider how the evils may best be remedied, and tered he to himself ; :but as he said this, he percei ve d a t whether it be not practicable to obtain for original works some distance off in the churchyard the figure of a man, some of the patronage now lavished on reprints, by pub as if kneeling over a grave. ' The Lord help him, he has fishing them at prices equally low, relying on extent of his grief too !' ejaculated Owen, as he moved towards circulation to compensate for the lesser price.—The Critic. him. On coming nearer he perceived that the grave was CHINESE BOTANY. — Letters have been received from newly made, and from its size evidently that of a child. Mr. Fortune (the botanist) dated the 16th December. "'1 ax your pardon,' said Os-en, i n a timid voice, He was then at Hong Kong, arranging fur the shipment after waiting for several minutes in the vain expectation of his collections to Europe. They occupied many chests, that the man would look up ; 'I ax your pardon for di,- and were about to be dispatched as fast as opportunity turbing you, but mayb e y ou 'll b e ki n d enoug h to h elp me occurred. Mr. Fortune had met with many very beauti to lay this coffin in the ground. 1 have nobody with me ful shrubs, and it is hoped that a large part of them will but a child.' prove hardy, o r near l y so. Viburourns, with heads of " The man started a n d looker, round. Their eyes met ; large flowers, like a hydrangea ; moutans in great variety ; it was Phil Joyce and Owen who now confronted each peaches, apricots, roses, handsome creepers, azaleas, daph other. But how unlike were both to what they were at ries, both sorts of the curious hexangular carneilia—a their last parting ! Then, vindictive passion, outraged great desideratum, for it must be most beautiful of the Pride, and vengeance, swelled every feature and tingled varieties; others from Fokien ; hydrangeas, a very fine in every fibre of their frames. Now each stood pale, care- double white gardenia, with flowers as large as a camellia ; worn, and dispirited, wearied out by sorrow, arid almost I a curious chrysanthemum, named as a perfect gem; new broken l -hearted. Owen was the fir s t t o spea k. I pines, honeysuckles, and plums, are among the rareties and I ex axedagain now your pardon before I saw you. Phil Joyc e , ment i oned as being actually on their way to England. it , for disturbing you, .:rid I want to We learn from other sources that Mr. Fortune has been put my poor father's body in the grave.' consulted by the Governor of Hong Kong as to the prat "' I didn't know he was dead,' said Phil, in a hollow ticability of planting the bare hills of that island, which voice, like one speaking to himself. ' This was poor little at present consist more of buildings than vegetation. In Billy here,' and he pointed to the mound at his feet. , the former respect, the pl ace was ma ki ng extraor di nary " ' The heavens h e hi s b e d t hi s n i ght! ' said Owen, I progress, a large town having already started up. The piously ; ' Good night !' and he t urne d t o go away ; then ' panic as to unhealthiness was wearing off; good hospitals etopping suddenly, he added, ' Maybe, after all, you'll and barracks for the troops were rapidly erecting; the not refuse me, and the Lord might be more merciful to , rest of the inhabitants were already well provided for, us both, than if we were to part like enemies. I and the ships in the harbour were perfectly healthy.— "' Owen Connor, I ask your forgiveness,' said Phil, i Gardener's Chronicle. stretching forth his hand, while his voice trembled like a I ae has hitherto shone. "S. Pa- i sick child's. ' I did n ' t thi n k t h e day would come I ' d ever 1 THE REvoLuTiON OF 1688.—With ou t un d erva l u i ng th e effects of the Revolution of 1688, without discrediting the _a weetrative of the Idoit ; but my heart is humble enough now, and maybe social w.. - ' 'twill be lower soon. Will you take my hand?y o the patriots w o com me to s a e o motives l of man f' h b . d h. kff acters ate " ' Will I. Phil? will I, is it? ay, and however ye may . • the oppressive tyranny and Ro m i s h bi gotry o f J ames 11., very stirrine change to me a ft er t hi s n i g h t , I' ll never forget this. ' And iit may be safely affirmed, th a t it was G eorge 111 ., L ord Bute, and Mr. Pitt, who put the British constitution upon wonted spirit a.... he grasped the cold fingers in both hands, and pre-sed I its rig h t, * and the only durable and beneficial basis, and -onveyed is one which, them ardently, and the two men fell into each other's , worke out the Revolution itself to its appropriate and be nder unnecessary any arms and wept. I neficent effects. This is the great and important moral of e them, by Land "Isit a proud or a humiliating confession for hamanity I English history during the eighteenth century ; this is the -tore peace and —assuredly it is a true one—that the finest and best traits ' conclusion forced on the mind by the perusal of Walpole's eted land of of our nature are elicited in our troubles, and not in our I Ilemolrs, and his vehement abuse of Lord Bute arid Geo. : however, joys? that we come out purer through trials than pros -1 ill, l for their dismissal of the` higs from power. Doubt 'is not 1 perity ? Does the chastisement of heaven teach us better less, they acted from selfish motives in doing so. The a or , I than the blessings lavished upon t- ? or are these gifts ! king wanted to regain his prerogative, the minister to se-. 1 the compensation sent us for our afflictions, that when ' ' , cure his power ; but still it was, on the part of both, a step poorest before man we should be richest before God ? , tit the right direction.. But for the resolute stand which Few hearts there are whit h sorrow makes not wiser— they made against the Whig oligarchy—but for their wis none which are not better for it. So it way here. These I t om in throwing themselves ou the property of the nation - iption, with the passages which. e men, in the continuance of good f inune, had been ,to withstand its debasement, a domineering party would enable our readers to form a correct enemies for life ; natural hatred had grown up between ' have been irrecoverably plunged in the slough of corrup the story and incidents. The " first them, so that each yearned for vengeance on the other ;i i tion, and the liberties of England lost for according fight, of the story, Owen Connor, and now they walked like brothers, only seeking forgive- , all former experience,in 'firmly -established ever,g , to ight, his opponent of the hostile ness of each other, and asking pardon for the past." tisrn consequent on a successful revolution. George 111. , „he brother of the girl of his love. The third era exhibits Owe,' Connor driven out, a I said, on the first decisiveparliamentary divisionwhich gave oe saves the life of his landlord's son, hunted and desperate man, from his small holding ; the 1 • • I a majority to the Tories in 1761—" At length then, we _AI gets severely beaten; for which he sub- agent for young Leslie, who, on the death of his father, , have a gl en oh the throne in England." Posterity ' will as intimated to him by Mr. Leslie, sen., that ; has succeeded to the property, having demanded the ap- ! add—at length the foundations ofaf Fee constitution were strip of moorland will for the future be I parent arrear of six years' rent due from him. He is I laid on a durable andb practicable b asis.—Blackwood. " second era" exhibits Owen somewhat i only rescued from becoming the murderer of the agent 1 wetter off in the world, yet still unsuccessful in hi s w i s h !by the timely intervention of remorse for the meditated I EFFECT OF THE WINDOW DUTIES ON ARCHITECTURE. to become an aeovre. suitor of the sister of Phil Joyce. I deed, arid the arrival of the young landlord himself, by —The youthful architect goes abroad for models, and has The following attempt to gain her ear, and that of her i whom justice is done to his past oeservings. also his own native ideas of beauty. When lie comes to brother, will shew the strength of the enmity existing The work is beautif u lly g u t up i n t h e sty l e o f D i ckens ' practice, however, he must not omit the window duties between the two factions : " Christmas Ca, ol" end " The Chimes." from his rules of taste. Should he fancy those long trans- THE PILGR IMAGE. parent suites of rooms, of w hi c h our F renc h ne i ghbours " Owen's heart b eat a l most to bursting, as be found The 0' Donoghue, N o . 4. B y H arry L orrequer. Dublin : are so fond, and which certainly would not be wholly un- Curry and Co. su i ta bl e to our c li mate, the taxgatherer forbids. A series himself so clos e to M ary ; a ll hi s former impatience to justify himself, an d t o spea k to her, fled in the happiness The interest of this ser i a l goes on i ncreas i ng. The of narrow windows in the Lombard style would be pic ' number before us co n t a i ns some exce ll ent and racy Muse , turesque—but ruinously expens i ve. A l ib rary, or a vi be now enjoyed. N o d evotee ever regarded the relic of a Saint with m ore t rem bli ng extacy than he the folds of trations of Irish mann e r s an d pre j u di ces. The scene be- I levy for paintings or sculpture, might be conveniently and that heavy mantle th a t f e ll at hi s k nees : he touched it as tweet' Sir Marmaduke and his t enantry i s espec i a ll y r i ch. I e l egant l y li g h te d b y a continuous range of small apertures, men would do a sac re d thing. The li ve -l ong d ay he fo turn each shrine an d h o l y spot ,at a consider a ble e l eva ti on . B ut a dozen such apertures lowed her, visiting in l.- Abbotsford Waverley, No. 77. wou ld cost fi ve or s i x pounds a •year. It is found that ; and ever, as he was re i d y to stea k to her, some fear that The present numb er carr i es us t h roug h some of the last glass domes, and other central lanterns, contribute to , by a word, he might di spe l t h e d ream of b liss he revelled chapters of Quenti n Di nwar d . Th e i llustrat i ons and ge- economy both in material and space, and not less to in, stopped him, an d b e was s il ent. neral getting-up of the wor k cont n iue o f t h e fi rst order. wholesomeness end beauty. We must leave that luxury "It was as the evening drew near, and the Pilgrims --ws- to millionaires and the London clubs. Lancet windows were turning towards the lake, beside which, at a small INDUCEMENTS TO SANATORY IMPROVEMENTS.—Are end numerous turret-lights are necessary to gothic archi thorn tree, the la-t " station" of all was performed, that Iwe grieved at the premature loss of relatives and friends ? , tecture, but virtually p ro hibi te d b y l aw. Li ghted closets an old beg gar , w h ose i mportun i ty suffered none to escape, Let us then bestir ourselves to save others from a simil r I are convenient additions to drawing-rooms and bed-rooms, blocked up the path, and prevented Mary from proceeding sorrow. Do we forget that already in England the value and, at least in any of the ancient styles, very ornamental. until she had given him something. All her money had (or probable duration) of the life of a new-born child ex- Boudoirs, however, find no favour with Parliament. A been long since bestow- d ; and she said so, hurriedly, and ceeds by six years the value of a similar life at Ostend ; century since, people used ofte n t o li g ht a passage h a ll endeavoured to mov e f orwar d . that in cases of childbirth, one out of every 15 mothers , with two narrow windows,—one on each side of the en '• ' Let Owen Connor behind you give it, acushla ! Ile's died at Paris so late as 1780, and that now in the healthiest l trance door. The window-tax has transformed them into tow, and can well afford it,' " said the cripple. rural districts of England, one in every 1,205 cases appears a small semicircular aperture over the entrance, or made ,he turned round at the words ; the action was in- to be the proportion ; or that, to follow a little further the us content with a little stray light from the window of Wary, and their eyes met. There are glances which history of the new inhabitants of the globe, that even the first or second landing of the stairs. A light on every .1 the whole secret of a lifetime; there are looks within the last 10 years, the mere circumstance that vac- story of a staircase is desirable ; but the law- makes it which dwell in the heart longer and deeper than words, cination has been enforced by law has reduced the 10,434 economical to substitute the uncouth contrivance of a Their eyes met toe merely a few seconds ; and while in deaths by smallpox of 1840, to 6,368 deaths in 1841 ; or long narrow light, cut in two by the floor. Lastly, ma n y her face offended pride w as d ep i c t e d , poor O wen ' s sorrow- l ast l y , t h at the ent i re population of England, notwith- people fancy the old arrangement for an oreinary parlour Struck' and broken aspect spoke of long suffering and standing the intensity and number of the injurious physical of two windows with a pier between them, The window grief so powerfully, that, ere she turned away, her heart and mental influences that act upon large portions of it, is tax has in nine cases out of ten abolished that pier, and had half forgiven him. known now to live longer by 169 weeks than the higher or given us instead a single window, approaching sometimes " ' You —one, me hardly, Mary,' said he, in a low, most favourably situated classes alone of England did be- too near the legal allowance of 4 feet 9 inches to be con as the train moved on. ' The Lord, he tweets the years 1693 and 1715.—Douglas Jerrold's sistent with perfect beauty. On bow windows arid octa- Art this blessed day ! Pater noster, qui es i Shilling 111a2azine. gonal windows, and other architectural vagaries, of course _ . added be, l ou d er , as h e perce i ved that his im- POPE.—Pope had a gentleness of spirit, which showed we cannot es, pert th e L eg i s l ature to have mercy ; yet it is mediate to find taste and in genu it y cr i pp l e d i n every di mediate follower h a d cease d hi s prayer to listen to him. itself in his filial offices to his father and moth er —t o h er 'He knows that I'd ra th er li ve and die the poorest— the most, in the prolonged wearing out of a beloved life. Ti rection. mes. Beueficat mum nomen l' cried he, louder. And then, It appears in kindly re l a ti ons t o hi s f r i en d s, i n charities, NAPOLEON CROSSIN G M OUNT S T. B ERNARD.—He turning abruptly said : in the scheme of his life —contentedness in a bounded, ( a-as accompanied by Duroc, his aide-de-camp, and De "' Ay it's plazing to you, sir, don't he trampin' on my quiet existence, a seclusion among books, and trees, and Bourrienne, his secretary. Artists have delineat- d him heels. I can't mind my devotions, an' one so near me.' flowers. His life flowed on peaceably and eently, like crossing the Alpine heights, mounted on a fiery steed. " ' It's not so unconvaynient, maybe, when they're the noble river upon which his modest dwelling looked. The plain truth is, that he ascended the St. Bernard in afore you,' muttered the old fellow with a grin of sly 11l health, as we said, often dedicates a student. The that gray surtout which he usually wore, upon a mule, led malice. And though Owen overheard the taunt, he felt constitutional feebleness from which he suffered, might by a guide belonging to the country, evincing, even in the no inclination to notice it. doubly favour his mind; as often the more delicate frame difficult passes, the abstraction of a mind occupied else " ' Four long years I've loved ye, Mary Joyce; and the harbours the greater spirit ; and as inaptitude for active where, conversing with the officers scattered on the load, sorra more encouragement I ever got nor the smile ye and rough sports, throws the solitary boy upon the com- and then, at intervals, questioning the guide who attended used to give me. And if ye take that from me, now— panionship of books, and upon the energies, avocations, him, making him relate the particulars of his life, his Are ye listening to me, Mary ?do you hear me, asthore ? and pleasures of his own intelligence and fancy. The little pleasures, his pains, like an idle traveller, who has nothing —Bad scran to ye, ye ould varmint! why won't ye keep poem of his boyhood, and the first of his manhood, pro- better to do. This guide, who was quite •young, gave him behind ? How is a man to save his sowl, an' you making phesv his tenor of life, and his literary career. A corn- a simple recital of the details of his obscure existence, him blaspheme every eninit?' raan di ng power, a predominant star in English literature and especially the vexation he felt, because. for the want "' I was only liste n i n ' to that elegant prayer ye were you might say that the last century belonged to him. of a little money, he could not marry one of the girls of saying,' said the old fellow, drily. Dryden reigned over his contemporaries. Pope, succeed- his valley. The First Consul, sometimes listening, some " ' 'Tis betther you'd mind your own, then,' said Owen, ing, took dominion over his own time and the following. times questioning the passengers with whom the mountain fiercely ; 'or by the blessed day, I'll teach ye a new pen- The pupil of Dryden, and gratefully proud to proclaim the was covered, arrived at the hospice, where the worthy once ye never heerd of afore!' greatness of his master, and to own all obligations, he monks gave him a warm reception. No sooner had he " The man dropped back, frightened at the sudden de- moulded himself nevertheless upon a type in his own mind. alighted from his mule than he wrote a note, which he termination these words were uttered in ; and Owen re- In the school of Dryden be is an original master. Din den handed to his guide, desiring him to be sure and deliver sumed his place. is, properly speaking, without imitators. His manner lit to the quarter-master of the army, who had been left on " I may never see ye again, :Nlary, 'Tis the last time proceeds from his own genius, and baffles transcribers. I the other side of the St. Bernard. In the evening, the you'll hear me spike to you. I'll lave the ould man. But Pope completed an art which could be learned, and I young man, on returning to St. Pierre, learned with sur- God look to him ! I'll lave him now, and go be a sodger. he left a world full of copyists.—Blackwood. prise what powerful traveller it was whom he had guided Here we are now, coming to this holy well • and I'll swear NELSON'S PINION OF IMSELF.— a al l my ac. 0 H H din the morning, and that General Bonaparte had ordered an oath before the Queen of Heaven, that before this time that a house and a piece of ground should be given to tions, my dearest Fanny (Lady Nelson) been gazetted, not to-morrow —" one fortnight would have passed d ur i ng t h e w h o l e war him immediately, and that he s h ou ld b e suppl i ed, i n short, without a letter from me : o n e d a y or ot h er I w ill have a with the means requisite for marry i ng and for realis i ng all long gazette of myself; I feel that su c h an opportun i ty w i l l the dreams of his modest a m biti on. T h i s mounta i neer died not long since, in his o wn country, t h e owner of the be given me. I cannot, if lam i n th e fi e ld o f g l ory, be I land given to him by the ruler of th e wor ld . Thi s singu bykept out of sight. Probably my servi ces may b e f orgotten ' the great by the time I get home; but my mind will lar act of beneficence, at a moment when his mind was not forget, nor cease to feel, a d egree o f conso l at i on an d engaged with such mighty int eres t s , i s wort h y o f attent i on. of applause superior to undeserv e d rewar d s . Wh erever If there was nothing in it b u t a mere conqueror ' s caprice, there is anything to be done, th ere P rov id ence i s sure to I dispensing at random goo d or ev il, a l ternate l y overthrow direct my steps. Credit must be given me in spite of ing empires or rearing a cottage, it may be useful to record envy. Even the French respe c t me : t h e i r m i n i ster at such caprices, if only t o t empt t h e masters o f the earth to imitation ; but such an ac t revea l s somet hi ng more. The Genoa, in answering a note of mine w h en re t urn i ng some h wearing apparel that had been tak en , sa id, " Y our nat i on, human soul, in those mo men t s w h en i t i s fill e d w i t h ar d ent sir, and mine are made to show ex am pl es o f generos i ty as ; desires, is disposed t o ki n d ness ; i t d oes goo d b y way of well as of valour to all th e p eo pl e o f th e eart h . " T he meriting that which it i s so li c iti ng o f P rov id ence. — following is a copy of the note I had sent him. I will I Thiers' Consulate and Empire of France. also relate another anecdote, all vanity to myself, but you 1 CHILDREN. —ln Blackwood for the past month there will partake of it. A person sent me a letter, and directed i s a splendid sequel to the well-known " Confessions of as follows, " Horatio Nelson, Genoa." On being asked an English Opium Eater," from which we subjoin an how he could direct in such a manner, his answer, in a extract. The author has been speaking of his childish large party, was, " Sir, there is but one Horatio Nelson i grief at the death of a beloved sister, and its effects upon in the world." The letter certainly came immediately. I him then and in after life, and concludes with the follow- At Genoa, where I have stopped all their trade, I am be- I ing passages :—" God, be assured, takes care for the re loved and respected both by the Senate and lower order. I ligion of children wheresoever his Christianity exists. If any man is fearful of his vessel being stopped, he comes I Wheresoever there is a national church established, to and asks me ; if I give him a paper, or say " All is right," I which a child sees his friends resorting ; wheresoever he kin he is contor state ented. where nay w forgotten. This 1 fore those illimitable heavens which fill to overflowing his is my gazette.— The Nelson Despotches. 1 young adoring heart ; wheresoever he sees the sleep of EFFECTS OF THE CONFISCATION or CHURCH PRO- death falling at intervals upon men and women whom he PERTY AT THE II EFORMATION.—AIthough no rational knows, depth as confounding to the plummet of his mind man who knows the human heart will ever express a wish as those heavens ascend beyond his power to pursue— to see entire religious unity prevail in a state, yet there can I there take you no thought for the religion of a child, any be no question, that the prodigious multiplication of sects ! more than for the lilies how they shall be arrayed, or for in Britain, which strikes foreigners with such astonish- the ravens how they shall feed their young. God speaks :merit, is mainly to be ascribed, as well as the immense to children also in dreams, and by the oracles that lurk mass of civilised heathenism which, through the whole of in darkness. But in solitude, above all things, when 'the eighteenth century, was growi ng up i n t h e i s l an d, to made vocal by th e t ru th s an d serv i ces o f a nat i onal church, ,the iniquitous confiscation of the property of the church God holds ' communion undisturbed' with children. So which took place at the Reformation. It is well known litude, though silent as light, is, like light, the mightiest I that the proportion of the tithes of England which belongs of agencies • for solitude is esse n ti a l t o man . All men Ito lay improprietors, is m ore cons id era bl e t h an t h at wh i ch come into this' world alone—all leave it alone. Even a is still in the hands of the church ; and if to them is added little child has a dread, whispering consciousness, that if the abbey and monastery lands, they would by this time he should be summoned to travel into God's presence, have amounted to a very large annual sum, probably not no gentle nurse will be allowed to lead him by the hand, less than six or seven millions a-year. In Scotland, it is nor mother to carry him in her arms, nor little sister to well known, the church lands at the Reformation were share his trepidations. King and priest, warrior and about a third of the whole landed property. They would maiden, philosopher and child, all must walk those mighty now, therefore, have produced £1,700,000 a-year, as the galleries alone. The solitude, therefote, which in this entire rental is somewhat above five millions. What a world appals or fascinates a chill's heart, is but the echo noble fund here existed, formed and set apart by the piety of a far deeper solitude through which already he has and charity of former ages, for the service of the altar and passed, and of another solitude deeper still, through of the poor—two causes which God bath joined, and no which he has to pass : reflex of one solitude—prefigura man should put asunder! What incalculable good would tion of another. Oh, burthen of solitude, that cleavest it have done, if it had been preserved sacred for its proper to man through every stage of his being—in his birth, destination—sacred from the corruptions, mummery, and which has been—in his life, which is—in his death, which despotism of the Romish church, but preserved inviolate shall be—mighty and essential solitude ! that west, and for the support of religion, the relief of suffering, the art, and art to be; thou broodest, like the spirit of God spread of education ! What is it which blights and pare- moving upon the surface of the deeps, over every heart lyres all the efforts now made, whether by individuals, vo- that sleeps in the nurseries of Christendom. Like the luntary association?, or the state, for the attaniment of vast laboratory of the air, which, seeming to be nothing, those truly godlike objects ? Is it not ever one thing—the or less than the shadow of a shade, hides within itself the practical impossibility of finding the requisite funds to principles of all things, solitude for a child is the Agrip support the institutions necessary to grapple with the evils, pa's mirror of the unseen universe. Deep is the solitude on a scale at all commensurate to their magnitude? The i in life of millions upon millions who, with hearts welling Established Church could not spread for want of funds to forth love, have none to love them. Deep is the solitude erect and endow churches; meanwhile the population in of those who, with secret griefs, have none to pity them, the manufacturing districts and great towns was rapidly Deep is the solitude of those who, fighting with doubts cr increasing, and, in consequence, part of the people took darkness, have none to counsel them. But deeper than refuge in the divisions of dissent, part in the oblivion of the deepest of these solitudes is that which broods over practical heathenism. Thence the multiplication of sects, childhood, bringing before it at intervals the final solitude the spread of pauperism, the growth of civilised heathen- which watches for it, and is waiting for it within the gates ism in the state. The poor-laws dated from the dissolu- of death. Reader, I tell you a truth, and hereafter 1 will tion of the monasteries; the forty-second of Elizabeth convince you of this truth, that for a Grecian child soli stands a durable record of the real origin of that burden- tude was nothing, but for a Christian child it has become some tax. It was the appropriation of the funds of reli- the power of God and the mystery of God. Oh, mighty gion and charity to the gratification of secular rapacity, and essential solitude, that west, and art, and art to be— which has been the cause of the chief religious and social thou, kindling under the torch of Christian revelations, evils under which Great Britain has ever since laboured ; art now transfigured for ever, and hest passed from a and it is it which still presents an invincible obstacle to blank negation into a secret hieroglyphic from God, sha all the efforts which are made for their removal.—Black- dowing in the hearts of infancy the very dimmest of his wood's Magazine. truths!" POETRY -lERN L Dublin L. s ascend, II arches bend m star to star, rthly sphere— s, a glory streams ded land, aved by an angel's hand that seldom give mg time, ay im,,g on faint aven-lit rays St. Pair trick's E effects u followe the best spe cabin and -free. Th broken in ceplis " How is one to mind their prayers at all, Owen Con nor, if ye be talking to yourself, so loud ?' said Mary, in a whisper, but oce which lost not a syllable, as it fell on Owen's heart. " ' My own sweet darling, the light of my eyes, ye are !' cried he, as with clasped hands he muttered blessings upon her head ; and with such vehemence of gesture, and such unfeigned signs of rapture, as to evoke remarks from some beggars near, highly laudatory of his zeal. " Look at the fine young man there, prayin' wid all Ayeh, the Saints give ye the benefit of your Pilgrimage " Musha! but ye'r a credit to the station ; ye put yer cowl in it, anyhow !' said an old Jezebel, whose hard fea. tures seemed to defy emotion. " Owen looked up ; and directly in front of him, with his back against a tree, and his arms crossed on his breast, stood Phil Joyce his brow was dark with pas sion, and his eyes glared like those of a maniac. A cold thrill ran through Owen's heart, lest the anger thus dis played should fall on Mary : for he well knew with what tyranny the poor girl was treated. He therefore took the moment of the pilgrims' approach to the holy tree, to move from his place. and, by a slightly circuitous route, came up to where Joyce was standing. I've a word for you, Phil Joyce," said he in a low voice, where every trace of emotionwas carefully subdued. Can I spake it to you here ?' Owen's wan and sickly aspect, if it did not shock, it at least astonished Joyce, for be looked at him for some seconds without speaking ; then said, half rudely : " ' Ay, here will do as well as any where, since ye didn't like to say it yesterday.' " There was no mistaking this taunt ; the sneer on Owen's want of courage was too plain to be miscon strued; and although for a moment he looked as if dis posed to resent it, he merely shook his head mournfully, and replied : • It is not about that 1 came to speak ; it's about your sister, Mary Joyce.' " Phil turned upon him a stare of amazement, as quickly followed by a laugh, whose insulting mockery made Owen's cheek crimson with shame. " True enough, Phil Joyce; I know your meanin' well,' said he, with an immense effort to subdue his pas sion. ' I'm a poor cottier, wid a hit of mountain-land— sorra more—and has no right to look up to one like her. But listen to me Phil !' and here he grasped his arm, and spoke with a thick guttural accent : Listen to me ! At the girl wasn't what she is, but only your sister, I'd scorn her as I do yourself ;' and with that, he pushed him from him with a force that made him stagger. Before he had well recovered, Owen was again at his side, and continued : And now, one word more, and all's ended between us. For you, and your likings or mislikings, I never cared a rush : but 'tis Mary herself refused me, so there's no more about it ; only don't be wreaking your temper on her, for she has no fault in it.' " Av a sister of mine ever bestowed a thought on the likes 0' ye, I'd give her the outside of the door this night,' said Joyce, whose courage now rose from seeing several of his faction attracted to the spot, by observing that he and Connor were conversing "Tis a disgrace—divil a less thanadisgrace to spake of it.' Well, we won't do so any more, plaze God said wen, with a smile of very fearful meaning. It will be another little matter we'll have to settle when we meet There's a score there, not paid off yet :' and at the word he lifted his hat, and disclosed the deep mark of the -lased gash on his forehead : ' and so, good bye to scarce- NOTICES --+-. :ek's Eve. B London : Ch zorou sly 5p rity ❑dition O'Malley, Jack Hinton, &c.. admiration of thousands of readers a faction fi Phil Joyce, Mr. Le sequent —oarles Lever. Illustrated b pman and Hall, 186, Strand. mplished Harry Lorrequer comes before us ^ation in a somewhat different walk of author which - hitherto shone. " St. Pa 's a Junestic sketch, illustrative of the system in the sister country of . The characters are forcibly drawn ; some ,ciderits are of a very stirring description, de -11 the author's wonted spirit and power ; -.led to be conveyed is one which, if j, would render unnecessary any ..es founded upon them, by Land her committees, and restore peace and to the unhappy and distracted land of treats. With these merits, however, and to admit that " St. Patrick's Eve " is not '.::e❑ of Mr. Lever's abilities as an author, e seen to the best advantage in those adventures - " as Harry Lorrequer, Charles he has commanded the 1- `` A rude nod from Phil Joyce was all the reply, and Owen turned homewards." is tl e secluded district in which Owen's cottage was situated, and his own rather f a ll s a v i ct i m to its ravages, whose funeral brings ahont the A pestilenc RECONCILIATION OF THE LEADERS OF THE RIVAL FA CTIONS " Kneel down, darlin', here by my side,' said he, placing his arm round the little fellow's waist; ''tie the likes of you God loves best ;' and joining the tiny hands with his own. he uttered a deep and fervent prayer for the THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. INSANITY.—In 72 most recent dissections at Bethle hem Hospital, performed by M r . L awrence , t h e b ra i n was found to have u n d ergone some structura l a lt erat i on. (F rom the Dublin Statesman.) In 400 di ssec ti ons ma d e b y M r. D av id son at t h e County I We need scarc e ly request our readers ' attention to a Lancaster Lunatic A s yl um , th e b ra i n was i nvar i a bl y short, conversation between Si r R o b er t Peel and Sir R.H.found disorgani ze d. M.M. Foville and Delaye had paid Inglis in the House o f Commons, which appears to us to more attention than perhap s an y o th er two mor bid w st h ic ieh of si t r he ßa p b la e u r s t i p b e le el b e u la t p_ h t o r l a l p o i w tomists to thi s su bj ect ; an d t h ey state th at t h ey. r e teetne eminently l fairness,chcharacteristic b haveana- p be always been able to detect organic changes in the brain cally covers the subcutaneous venom of his pro-popish after death, principally in the cortical or gray part, which schemes. Having dealt in oth er art i c l es w i t h t h e princi was freque n tl y f oun d to b e o f an i ntensely red colour, re- plc of the increased gran t, an d o f t h e permanent tooting sembling erysipelas. If the gr a y su b s t ance i n th ese cases proposed to be given to th a t i ncrease d grant by the new be dexterously pared, and very thin slices of it cut off, so bill scheme, we only now advert to the point so plausibly, as not to lay bare the white part of the brain, a preterna- and yet so hypocritically and dishonestly put by the pre tural redness, varying from tint of red to lilac colour, will I mier in the following conversation : be seen. In some cases of acute mania, the brain will be " Sir R. Inglis.—l refer to the regium donum, and the grants found of a marble appearance, in which patches of still to Presbyterians in Scotland. deeper red h ue an d o f preternatura l softness are detected. "Sir Sir It. Peel.---If my hon. friend w i s h es th ese cases placed on Medical Time s . a permanent footing let him make th a t propos i t i on. From the high respect in which I hold the Protestant Presbyte , ian body in Ireland I am not prepared to sa y th at I w i ll resist his propo. AMBULATI NG PENNY-A.L INERS.— S orne penny-a liners have circuits as extensive as the judges, and tra- sition. verse periodically a certain district, narrating, in default " Sir R. Inglis.—l have no such intention ; and if any mem of crimes an d m i s f ortunes, t h e deta i ls of parish squabbles, ber shall make such a propositio n I w ill vote against it. (A local elections, the appearance of the crops—anything la . u , g s h i rR. Peel.—Then I think it ha r dl y f a i r t o ra i se a prejudice . ) that appears to th em o f su ffi c i ent pu bli c i nterest to war- against my proposal wall refe ence to May. ooth by implying rant a paragraph. In some districts the travelling penny- that I would leave Protestant institutions on a lees permanent a-liner passes for a very great man, and receives no small footing." (Cheers.) attention, with good fare and free quarters, from inn and Now, what is the fact which Sir R. Peel, with such a hotel keepers., from the hope that some day, in the superfluously majestic air of indignant and unassaulted Times or Morning Chronicle, he will say a good word virtue thus disguises? He does propose and does give no for the excellence of his accommodation, and the urbanity tice of his proposal to establish permanently the Popish and good wines of the host—en expectation which the grant, and he does not propose to establish permanently obscure penny-a-liner but rarely has an opportunity of the Presbyterian. He, pre ends that if Sir R. Inglis were fulfilling. He is also a person of some consequence with to make such a proposition he Peel could not oppose it. police-inspectors, whom he may have occasion in a future This appears to us to be a mixed piece of malignant craft, paragraph to designate as " zealous and active officers." insult, and falsehood. He knows well that the principles Nor is this consideration less with parish orators; for if of Sir R. Inglis would not lead him to make the proposi he cannot repeat their eloquence in full, he can manse to fion, and be therefore strives to render Sir R. Inglis un say in print that they delivered "able speeches,' and popular with the Presbyterians, and so to divide the Pro that they were " loudly and repeatedly cheered." If the testant unity against the Popish scheme. Why was there penny-a-liner of this kind have any faults besides his ver- not some man of power in the house to tear the hollow bosity, it is his impudence. He has no scruples. A pri- web of this arch hypocrisy to shreds ? Sir R. Peel pro vate house is not private to him ; he lives by narrating tests against the unfairness of implying that he would incidents, and incidents he will have, at whatever sacri- leave Protestant institutions on a less permanent footing fice. It has happened ere this that the penny-a-liner has than popish ones. The answer is —Sir, you do leave them been ducked under a pump for his impertinent prying ; so. You may pretend what you like, and you may here that he has been left on a mud-bank by the indignant after patch up your present pretence by making the regium boatman, for obtruding himself on the privacy of distin- donum a permanent thing ; but up to this period you have guished or royal personages in their own barge; and suf- not proposed to do by that Protestant institution what fered various other like mishaps and indignities in the you have proposed to do by the abominable Maynooth " pursuit of knowledge under difficulties." Nay, the nuisance penny-a-liner has been known to suffer indignity with a willing mind, and even with delight, if it would aid him to write a report for the morning iournals which no rival penny-a-liner could have the opportunity of supplying. He has been known to put on the livery of a great family, and wait upon the guests at table, napkin in hand, like any other footman, that be might gather the names of the distinguished guests, and describe their rich banquet next morning in the columns of all the journals. And when he could not do this by the connivance of the great man pimself, lie has bribed the butler, and been admitted as an extra hand for the extraordinary occasion. SAILING ON THE NILE.—" When, towards evening, the mist cleared away, the sky assumed that bright cerulean tint, which generally distinguishes it in those latitudes ; and the Nile, unruffled by the slightest breeze, presented to the eye a vast mirror, beautifully reflecting the over hanging mountains, pale and blushing in the light of the setting sun. This noble scene was succeeded by another, still more serene and beautiful ;—the same landscape, painted in new colours by the moon. It is extraordinary that the ancient Egyptians should have been a quaint un poetical people, as nature, however calm and regular has crowded together, in the land they inhabited, all those physical sources of enthusiasm which are supposed to concur in kindling the fire of genius. The vast naked rocks of the Arabian chain, which, but for a few minutes before, had been glowing in the setting sun, now stood like pale spectres in the moonlight ; their bald and ghastly brow resembling that of a skeleton ; while the river, broad, tranquil, of a deep azure tint, glittering with the bright images of the moon's sharp crescent and a thousand resplendent stars, displayed a still softer beauty than by day. In many places the shadows of the moun tains threw their huge masses over its unruffled bosom ; and on the opposite side, the low level shore, scarcely elevated above the waters, gave rise to a kind of illusion, the mighty river appearing to stretch away indefinitely towards the west, where every group of date palms or mimosas, upon the plain, seemed to mark the site of some higher island rising in the midst of the waters. But no powers of language can ever embody the surpassing splen dour of this scene, or. perhaps, succeed in creating the belief that Egypt contains a picturesque landscape ; though, for my own part, I have seldom been more pow erfully affected by scenes of acknowledged magnificence ; in the mountains of Sicily ; in the beautiful valleys of the Apennines; or among the naked Alps of the upper Valais. It will, in fact, be conceded, that the effect of moonlight, falling upon a wilderness of white crags and pinnacles, with innumerable gorges, ravines, hollows, chasms, and cavern mouths, wrapped in deep shadow, partly conceal ing them from the eye, and giving rise to mysterious con jectures respecting their forms, is, in the highest degree, startling ; as those who have traversed by night any of the loftier Alpine ridges will certainly have remarked. But, in Egypt, the historical, and, still more, the mythologi cal associations, clinging to every scene, especially when the mute figures of gods look down upon you from the walls. and cavern mouth• and ruins, augment, in a won derful manner, the effect of the natural scenery , an d g i ve rise in the mind to emotions which it would be difficult to describe. To enjoy this magnificent prospect, I sat under an awning on the deck, till the cold of the advanc- 1 ing night compelled me to retreat into my cabin." Library of Travel PEEL AND PRESBYTERIANS SOUTH SEA WHALE FISHERIES. The present state of the South Sea Fisheries bas indu ced a correspondent to address a few remarks on the sub ject, in the hope, it would appear, that Government atten tion may be drawn thereto. According to the facts he furnishes, a few years ago, out of the port. of London alone, at least 60 ships or barques were employed in that trade, but at present not more than nine are engaged. He says it was the policy for years of successive governments to give, even by bounty, every possible encouragement to this really valuable branch of our commerce, as it was found to be infinitely the best nursery for seamen of the royal navy, and long continued to furnish first-rate sai lors to our ships of war. The consequence was the em barkation of a large amount of capital in the business, and the supply of oil, hone, &c. was very grea t, th oug h not more than equal to the demand. Under the present po licy of government, the greater part of this money has been withdrawn, and, besides allowing the Americans to run away with our fisheries, we are not only paying them £250,000 per annum for oil, but have raised the price to ourselves from £6O to £9O per ton. The French of late, our correspondent alleges, have been directing their atten tion very much to this source of mercantile enterprise, no doubt. he says, in pert with the view of improving their marine; while our own colonies in the East are likewise endeavouring to participate in the advantages which the same pursuit offers. Without the government takes some ready steps to arrest the decline of the trade by recourse to a bounty for a season, and thus enable our shipping in terest to regain its lost ground, he expresses a perfect conviction that we shall lose it altogether. Applicable to the same subject are some statistics which we extract from an American paper called The Whale man's Shipping List. These show that in the Amerizan whale trade, from the Ist of January, 1844, to the Ist of January, 1845, 199 ships and barques, 23 brigs, and 16 schooners and sloops, were employed, and that the pro duct of their voyages were 139,594 barrels of sperm, 262,047 barrels of whale, and 2,582,4451 b. of whalebone. A statement of imposts of sperm and whale oil from 1838 to 1845 exhibits the fact that the trade has been very steady, and increases in importance. In 1839, 1842, and 1843, the receipts were exceedingly large. In the first named year the imports of sperm reached 142,336 barrels, and of whale 299,783 barrels; and in the last named year the imports of sperm amounted to 166,958 barrels, and of whale 206,727 barrels. For 1844 the return gave the quantity of sperm as 139,594 barrels, and of whale as 262,047 barrels. The uncertainty of the sperm whale fishery in the Pacific, and the meagre accounts yet received from the north-west fleet of right whalers, rendered it im possible at the date of these advices to form an estimate with any degree of accuracy of the quantity of sperm and whale oil to arrive in 1845. It is stated that of the vessels which sailed from the United States in 1842 for the In dian and Pacific Oceans, 54 were sperm whalers, arid 130 right whalers. In 1813 there sailed 66 sperm whalers, and 147 right whalers. In 1814 there sailed 63 sperm whalers, and 177 right whaler s ; so th a t if th ere was a falling off on one hand, there was an increase on the other. In addition to these, there were 51 small barques, brigs, and schooners engaged in the fishery, which cruise exclu sively in the Atlantic, and make their voyage in eight to sixteen months.—Times. LONDON MARKETS MARK-LANE CORN EXCHANGE At this day's market the supply of English Wheat was only moderate. The improvement which we noted this day week was supported for fine qualities, but there was less firmness for other descriptions. Free foreign in limited request, without change i❑ value There was an inquiry for bonded for exporta tion, but no actual sales were spoken of. This completely pa ralysed the market. Ths offers received were fully Is. per quarter under last Monday's rates, which factors generally re fused, and only retail sales could be made, at prices in favour of the buyer. CURRENCY PER IMPERIAL MEASURE. Wheat, Essex and Kent. a. d. a. d Red White Norfolk and Lincoln, red White . Irish, red White — _ Rye, old . , New 30 0 -- 34 0 35 0-36 0 2 7 0 —• co 0 33 0-35 0 36 0— 00 0 58 0 -- f 3 0 56 0 6o 0 60 0 00 0 64 0 65 0 22 0 23 0 23 0 24 0 20 0-22 0 21 0-23 0 22 0 23 0 34 0-36 0 38 0-39 0 34 0 -- 36 0 35 0 —36 0 33 0 -- 35 0 36 0 -- 38 0 42 0-00 0 33 0-33 0 33 0-35 0 Barley, Grinding Malting Chevalier Malt, Suffolk and Norfolk Brown Kingston and Ware 'hevalier Yorkshire and Lincolnshire, feed Potatoe Youghall and Cork, black Cork, white Scotch, feed Beans, tick Pigeons Pease, Grey .... Maple White Boilers Flour, town made Suffolk Stockton and Norfolk. FOREIGN GRAIN AND FLOUR IN BOND. Wheat, Dantzic.. Hamburg 20 0 —24 0 17 0 18 0 15 n 17 0 24 0-29 28 0 32 0 18 0 Elarley Oats, new Flour, American Baltic .... FRIDAY, March 28. There has been, in the course of the present week, large ar rivals of grain to the market, principally English Wheat and Irish Oats. Of the former the quantity reported exceeds I 1,000 quarters, and of the latter 55,00., quarters. The change expe rienced recently to fine spring weather has had the tendency to make the trade dull, awl also to check advancing prices. Wheats arc t'-day in very moderate demand, and Barley also fine's but a limited sale ; neither of these two descriptions of grain are, however, cheaper. Oats have declined fully is per quarter from Monday, and do not meet a ready sale at the re duction. Beans and Peas continue steady. In other articles there is no variation. Arrivalg. I Wheat. Barley. Oats. Malt, 113604860 4050 5530 I 1020 Flour, 7830 sacks. English Irish Foreign SMITHFIELD CATTLE MARKET. The arrivals of Beasts, fresh up from our grazing counties, were somewhat extensive, for the time of year, as to number; but the r general quality was inferior. W e much regret to ob serve that at least a fourth of them were suffering severely from disease. The Beef trade was again excessively heavy, and Friday's depression in the currencies of 2d. per 81b. was bare y supported—the very highest figure for the best Scots not exceed in r 3s. 10d. per Slb. The primest Beasts were nearly all disposed of, but numbers of the inferior kinds left the market unsold. Fortunately for most parties the numbers of Sheep were rather limited, which caused the mutton trade to rule tolerably steady. No Lambs came to hand from the Isle of Wight, while from other quarters the receipts of that description of stock, arising no doubt from the low currencies obtained on Friday last, were rather limited. Down qualities sold slowly at from as. Hid. to 6s. Other breeds from ss. to ss. Bd. per 81b., being about t.ta tionary figures. With Calves we were but moderately supplied. Per 81bs. to sink the 061 s. d. s. d. a. d. s. d. Inferior Beasts 26—2 10 Second quality do. 38—3 10 Seccnd quality do. 3 0— 3 2 Coarse do. 4 0— 4 2 Prime large Oxen. 3 4 3 6 SouthdovrnWethers I 4 4 6 Prime Scots, &c... 3 8— 3 10 Do. out of the wool -- Coarse Calves .... 3 10— 4 8 Large If gs Small do. Suckling do. each.lB 0-30 0 Qr. old Pigs, each 16 0-20 0 Inferior Sheep 2 10— 3 6 Lambs SUPPLY AT MARKEI. Beasts, 3,C 04.. .. Sheep, 20,300.... Calves, 44 .. Pigs, 3:5 FRIDAY, March 26. The market opened very dull this morning, and continued so throughout the day. Nothing but good old Downs maintained their price, every thing else went off slowly at a reduction of 2d to 4d per stone. The supplies were tolerably large, and many were turned out unsold. LONDON SHARE MARKET, - - Birmingham and Gloucester shares have been last sold at 123 i, Caledonian 104, Cambridge and Lincoln 64. Churnet Val ley 74, Direct Northern 4. Eastern Counties 214, Great Southern and Western (Ireland) 14, Great North of England 192, Bir mingham 234, Brighton 624, London and York 34, Manchester and Leeds 1474, Midland 1404, Northern and Eastern 66, North Wales 24, Rugby 44, South Devon 20, South Wales 6, Trent Val ley 17, Boulogne and Amiens 1 4, Toulouse and Cette 2il, Great Northern of France 6, Orleans and B urdeaux 114, Paris and Lyons, Ganneron's, 24, Paris and Orleans 52, Tours and Nantes 3. THE SALT-HILL MURDER.-EXECUTION On Wednesday, John Tawell's wife and her daughter, Miss Cutforth, together with the brother, Mr. W. Tawell, arrived to take their final farewell. The prisoner had prepared several memoranda for his wife. His wishes were committed to paper with great method and accuracy. Minute commissions were set down, and vari ous small and outstanding accounts were mentioned. Upon this, as upon all former occasions he never alluded to his crimes, nor in any of the numerous and long epis tles which he has addressed to his wife, and to others of his family, has he mentioned the circumstances of the murder. The subject is one which he has always avoided. When pressed to reveal all that he knew concerning it, he always answered, " I am not prepared, I am not pre pared," at the same time leaving an impression that something iu the way of an explanation or a confession would ultimately appear. _ Independently of any confession of the murder, some extraordinary disclosures will be made relating to the fate of John T swell. The convict on Thursday passed a restless night, a cir cumstance which he attributes to having taken final leave of his wife. Upon his being asked whether he was ac quainted with what would soon occur he said, "Yes, I suppose to-morrow is the day ; I thought as much. Well, I have no complaint to make." At an early hour on Friday morning, about five o'clock, the drop, from which the prisoner was to be suspended, was arranged ; and even at that early hour there were persons anxiously looking on. Every moment the crowd was augmenting. There could not have been less than between 4.000 and 5,000 persons present at the time of the execution, and amongst them were several respectable looking females. Before the large window in front of the gaol was a balcony. within which the drop was erected, the lower part of which was curtained. There were pla cards carried about in several parts of the crowd, an nouncing, in large h.tters, " A Full Account of the Last Moments of John Tawell," which could not fail to be seen by the miserable man. The hour announced for execution was eight o'clock, but about a quarter of an hoar before eight a sudden motion of the crowd showed that the moment had come —the last fatal moment when the prisoner was to be launched into eternity, to meet his Creator. It was an awful moment, that movement of the crowd. The most intense silence prevailed —not a word escaped after the crowd had said "He is coming." The wretched ma was greatly moved when he saw the crowd; he trembled exceedingly, and was scarcely able to stand when he stepped on the platform under the drop. Calcraft, the executioner, and one of the turnkeys led him out of the gaol ; and Mr. Sheriff, the governor, stood immediately behind him. The nightcap having been immediately drawn over him, be knelt down to pray, which he did with the most apparent fervour. After he had been praying for about a minute, or a minute and a half, he was assisted to rise by Calcraft, who proceeded to place the rope round his neck. Here, however, there seemed to be an unnecessary delay, which might easily have been avoided by a little forethought. There being no chain from the cross beam from which to fix the other end of the rope, a considerable time elapsed between the rope being placed round his neck and the tying it to the cross beam, at which considerable dissatis faction was manifested by the spectators. Calcraft made two or three turns of the rope before it was properly and firmly fixed to the beam. This performed, the drop fell, and the wretched man became at once violently convulsed and his whole frame quivered—his arms and legs contracted—they fell again —were again contracted—fell again, again contracted—and he hung a motionless corpse, save that he oscillated to the motion of the wind, which was blowing strongly at the time. Probably five minutes elapsed between the appearance of the criminal and his death. Some say more, some less; but five minutes was about the time. From the first his hands were tightly bound together, and he kept his fingers locked in each other as if he still prayed, and had his mind directed towards heaven in spite of his bodily suffer ing. It was expected that the wretched man would be received with groans and execrations by the crowd, but we are pleased to be able to say that no such disgraceful proceedings took place. On the contrary, a most de corous and becoming silence was observed, and not a word escaped to distract him in his last moments. This conduct of the people is highly creditable to them, and contrasts most favourably with the behavour of the crowds who assemble at Newgate on similar occasions. The body was allowed to hang for an hour, and was then taken, but not cut down. He was executed in the Quaker's dress. The body was immediately interred in the precincts of the gaol, though up to Thursday night his friends had hopes, from the strong applications that were made on the subject, that his body would be delivered up to them—the ge.ve, however, was dug two days ago. To the governor of the gaol we are also indebted for the knowledge of the fact that the wretched culprit made a full confession of his guilt. It appears that he wrote his confession some days ago. He made a request that his statement might not be published, but he desired that the purport of it should be made known. He confessed that he poisoned Sarah Hart, and that he was also guilty of having made the attempt upon her life in September last, as suggested by the evidence for the prosecution at his recent trial and conviction. He also declared that he was April 1, 184.5. cot le to the comissin of te crime ecunial motives, but from the m fear o that the h fact of his co p nnecti,° l with his unfortunate victim would come to the ears of " 1 wife. We made an application to the Hey. Mr. CO t ° be allowed to copy the written confession, but the gentleman, in compliance with the dying request of 01 unfortunate man, felt it his duty to refuse it. A refusa! to a similar re ques t was , we un d erstand, g i ven to the under-sheriff by the chaplain. The rev. ordinary WO s° deeply affected by th e me l ancholy occurrence as to be l altogether unable to speak in reference to it. THE ARMY. WAR OFFICE, MARCH 28. 3d Dragoon Guard s .—C ap t. G . F . S tuart, f rom 44t0 Foot, to be Captain, vice Roden, who exchanges. 7th Dragoon Gu ar d s . —E ns i gn C . J . B . Pl estow , fr om 76th Foot, to be Cornet, by purchase, vice Petre, Pr o. moted. 2d Dragoons.—Capt. G. C. Clarke, from 89th Foot , t° be Captain, vice H. M. Campbell, who exchanges. G. Ist Foot.—Staff Surgeon of the Second Class G• Robertson, M D., to be Surgeon, vice Dartnell, prorou ted on the Staff. 10th Foot.—Brevet Colonel Sir G. Couper, Bart., from half-pay U na tt ac h e d, t o b e Li eutenant Colonel, v ice Luard, who exchanges ; Major T. H. Franks to be Lil o ' tenant Colonel, by purchase, vice Sir G. Couper, retires; Capt. G. Staunton to be Major, by purchase, vice Franks; Lieut. J. T. Gorle to be Captain, by Far chase, vice St a unt on ; E ns i gn C. J . Li n d am to be Lie"„' tenant, by purchase, vice Gorle; Ensign C. Nedbara, from 84th Foot, to be Ensign, vice Lindam. 15th Foot.—W. C. Bontine, Gent., to be Ensign , 11 purchase, vice Peel, appointed to the 85th Foot. 23d Foot.—Lieut. A. W. W. Wynn to be Captain , Purchase, vice Ferguson, who retires ; Second Lieut. Bruce to be First Lieutenant, by purchase, vice VirYn il ; J. Blakeney, G en t., to b e S econ d Li eutenant, by par' chase, vice Bruce. 44th Foot.—Capt. John Roden, from the 3d Dragoon Guards, to be Captain, vice Stuart, who exchanges. t 68th Foot.—R. W. W oo lcombe, Gent., to be-Assistan Surgeon, vice Irving, deceased. 76th Foot.—Gent. Cadet J. C. Clarke, from the Itq a Military College, to be Ensign, by purchase, vice Pies tow, appointed to the 7th Dragoon Guards. 84th Foot.—D. Maunsell, Gent., to be Ensign , bi purchase, vice N e dh am , appo i n t e d to the 10th Foot. , 4 85th Foot.—Lieut. H. M`D ouga ll , f rom h a lf -pa y Foot, to be Lieutenant, vice Ogilvy, appointed to t k ", 49th Foot ; Ensign R. M aunse ll t o b e Lieutenan t, purchase, vice M`D ouga ll, w h o ret i res; Ensign E "ir • Peel, from the 15:h Foot. to be Ensign, vice M an n-ell' i 89th Foot.—M a j or E. Th orp to b e Li eutenant C o lol: without purchase, vice Bouvierie, deceased ; Capt• tt Kenny to be M a j or , v i ce Th orp ; Li eut. W . H . Th o rota at to be Captain, vice Kenny • Capt. H. M. Campbell, ir° the 2d Dra goons , to b e daptain, vice Clarke, who changes; Ensign R. B. Kennedy to be Lieutenant, vice Thornton ; B. Mei n , G en t., t o be Ensign, vice Kenne u, ' Hospital Staff.—Staff Assistant Surgeon P. Nichols oot M.D., to be St a ff S urgeon o f th e Second Class, v ice Rc fr - bertson, app o i n t e d to t h e I st F oo t ; J . M ee, G en t., t o be Assistant Surgeon to the Forces, vice Nicholson, Pr o. rooted. Memorandum.—The Christian names of Lieut. 130 1; say, of the 14th Light Dragoons, are Bulcarres Dalryn 3 P Wardlaw. THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE. • The Duke of Newca s tl e ( a no bl eman w h ose nam e it i 8 i refreshing to utter in times like these) has felt it inc t°l ; bent, in consequence of the recent allusion in parliatne ° to the Hafod Estate ma tt er , to wr it e a l ong public letter in vindication of hi s i nsu lt e d honour. «e can assure by grace that he has infli c t e d upon hi mse lf a goo d deal most unnecessary labour. His high and blameless eh a , racter as a public ma n i s a su ffi c i ent answer to the Erns °r 0 able imputations which, by implication, were cast uP or ° , him, in the discussion adverted to. His grace has, 10 . 4 ever, thought otherwise, and we, for one, do net regret', since it has afforded the public the advantage of knowi°4 the sentiments of a tried and trusty Conservative of Eli a, right sort, on the present unsatisfactory state of the ° tie don's affairs. His grace freely expresses th disgust. 5 feels, and in the subjoined passage seasonably indics", s e e what ought to be the common feeling in reference to t" ascendant policy : et!, " So in all me asures o f w hi c h 1 hi g h ly d i sapp rov whether Ro man C a th o li c emanc i pat i on, Reform, Eecle" astical commissions, old C orporat i ons, I r i sh policy, , , laws, Free Trade, with many others, and more reeen` t a the Income Tax and Tariff, Canada Corn, and Nati c ,., lions tu Education, ne tf have aocle t n c ro . tw, scrupledin t with th whiche to I i n is mayer disagreenot o r have the g ood f°' as a candid friend or a candid enemy—nor my Y.r duty and abstain from dissent, when I see such bilis a! oc the Jews' Disabilities Bill introduced into a Christi/ t I e nd da o y p — cpao o ns n ei all d Parliament, and look forward to the promised measures which are to give a heavy blow and great discourage w n to the Protestant Church, whilst Popery is to be eleya ; t ,, e ,,, and encouraged, and enemies to our faith, Her' t "li Sceptics or Infidels, are to legislate with that Church which they abhor • such measures demand the stern 01) : position of every Christian, and every conscientiouwshreti testant, who must too plainly and fearfully perceive Of . small is the consideratio n or care for the Establishme but how great for her deadliest foes. Thus, when I have differed I have never d one so f rom waywar d ness or te tion, but as a painful performance of a duty—from an ward pursuasion that though interest and ease forbade I°7 principle and conviction dict a t e d arid required it. Th eso , have been, and I trust will ever conti n u e to be, my °I tives, my incentives, and my guides ; and a ltho ug h 1 i t , not pretend to assert that I have been right, I can safeLi declare that I believed myself not to have been wrong: Many, perhaps, may remark—More fool he for his pai e n_ s r ; why does he not f o ll ow th e ways o f th e wor ld ? I . 1 1. only reply, that such ways are not my w a y s , and that le could derive no satisfaction from exchanging prineill, for expediency. So, like a woun d e d d eer , l a m discou u tenanced by the whole herd." estimate placed on his talents an d serv i ces i n the good i His Grace shows, in the foll ow i ng passage , the diffe re o _d t days of her Majesty's grandfather : " It is true, honorary and h onoura bl e di s ti n ctions 1 1 0 4 F been conferred upon me w h en a very young man. r° b6 the excellent and revered Ge orge th e Thi r d, I received t, Lieutenancy of the county and th e R angers hip of Shit, wood Forest; neither of these offices yielding one • er i pence of emolument. These app o i n t men t s 1 snli, c t ho at from the King himself, and they were b es t owe d o m hesitation, and with that paternal benignity which, " h is my earliest youth, 1 invariably experienced frot ° „,., o , Majesty. I entered upon the li eu t enancy in times nrlf siderable difficulty and much anxiety. I exerted n" og h to the utmost, and I hope not unsuccessfully, O r ! r e , many anxious years. when at len g th t ranqu illity wa' sc sa stored. I spared neither my person nor my purse; ' t ale my duty so to do, and I rendered it with alacrity and n o gence : perhaps I may have ear ne d an express i on of ttl.ded from the proper quarter; it wou ld h ave amp l y rev", of me, but it was forgotten. H av i ng h a d the honodilt serving four sovereigns, I may be permitted to ren; s o that the per contra in pounds, shillings, and penje', r est the payment for'the pate n t s on every accession. P4`),;ugb profit here. The garter I never wou ld as k for, t"d re frequently invited to solicit the honour ; when off t ',, to me I declined it, and suggested th a t it s!muld be g il- tiod . the Duke of Wellington, as I had no c l a i m to distine I was commanded to accept it, and was invested• of honour is great, and I hope that I am not insensill e s- 5 4' its value ; but as my prese n t o bj ec t i s to s h ow that ittetl not be charged with dish ones t ga i n , I may b e pet° Wit° to mention that the fees are on a scale commensurate dr the honour. As none of these distinctions confers er e e %. merit or patronage, it w ill:b e seen th at w i t h t h e singeorf4 ception of pay when o n d u t y w i t h t h e Yeomanry od" , which I command e d, I h ave never d rawn to t he n° of one penny fro public purse. The following p m ar t ag he raph pointedly displays the r . t h which a firm adherence to Tory principles meets W I these days of trimming expediency : de ter' "My present positi on seems to b e t hi s. Though 8,,te.? mined upholder of th e Ch urc h o f E ng l and an d the ti ' rj 00; of Protestantism and o f P ro t estant ascen dencrThrire' disguised Conservative of th e anc i ent an d onc e au t o< British constitution a n d th e i nst i tut i ons of t h e en°flitiid; I am disclaimed by those whom I am compelled t° old; should be what I am. Th e post w hi ch I held fc' t fOr years as the Sovereign's Lieutenant in this count r Y u 'acr Sovereign was advised to deprive me of, and I wa s q v re' remoniously discarded, mere l y b ecause I di s dainfuVoP sented the molestations of one of her Majesty's , b, i g cers—and this after servin g four sovere i gns loyally' fully, zealously, and, I hope, efficiently." CORRESPONDENCE. MR. CATLIN AND THE WELSH INHABIT OF LIVERPOOL. 0111 ) ' TO THE EDITOR OF THE LIVERPOOL sTAN - ' „ove r Stu,—From an advertisement in your valuableereely of th, 18th instant, it appears that Mr. Catlin, t b ove,r brated North Americ an t rave ll er, i s now stay ing inopeiir; pool. May I be p erm itt e d to suggest that suc h a% - " e t . 0 " tunity should not b e neg l ecte d b y t h e C ymr y rest lnlet Liverpool, to se cure f rom hi m, if poss ibl e, a leetur ce lorla the locality and present circumstances of the a of! founded in Am er i ca b y P r i nce M a d oc. This Pr in "%i r ''' t ; his follower s em i gra t e d f rom N ort h W a l es i n to tb e l ose:, tern Continent i n th e year 1170, an d th e ir descf r now inhabit th e sou th- wes t ern b an k s o f t h e tiPP' oa r % souri river. M r . C at li n . a f ew years ago , the, of his tr ave l s among th e I n di ans of N ort h Alne r „ l , ,c ,llli e 4 sided for seve ra l wee k s among t h e Whit e , or `l,lo` o , Indians, as they are denominated ; and has P e ii ,toa l t , some interesting ac coun t s o f t h e i r manners and nc-proei3ol He has also c are f u ll y t race d t h e i r various eneaiod i, from the United St a t es to th e i r present l oc ation , r e ; fully described the numerous Madocian or M an Wi n n' mains which are still extant. Mr. Catlin beinn el so" r fore, fully qualified to afford much important it%tic upon a subject so deeply interesting to all P a k r 4clog:r tives of the Principality, as the history of the i , fors .- bio or Welsh Indians, I hope I shall be pardoned gesting to your Cambrian fellow-town amen the II ", Ve t ` ti , lit) , of engaging the very valuable services of Y ° oo por tern visitor, which may not, should the present nity be lost, again be available. I remain, sir, your most rv o A ` obedient, e , T. JA Gwaenhelyg, Salop, March 25th, 1845. ri°f e P.1 ) 1! [We are sorry that M r . C a tli n h a d left th e t ? w ,, 0 06' . to the receipt of our cor res p on d en t's letter, btrogg es he may again visit us, when our corresponde nt ° :ion ought to be acted on.] _t --- , The trial of Hocker for the murder of Mr • Delay Hampstead, is fixed for the 11th of April.