The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-12-03 00:00:00

Rittraturt. THE OTHER DAY. (From Fraser's Magazine for December.) Upon the meadows spread below Full softly fall the flakes of snow, Yet choke they up the way That lately wound along the scene • 'Mid fields of gold and swards of green. .. Ay, but the other day. The sun bath shrunk into the south, • And every bird bath shut its mouth, .And broken off its lac; • And yet with sultry beams the air, And yet with songs the woodlands fair, Were full the other day. , All things are here but for a while, ' The IrOwn must vanisn, fade the smile, E'en beauty must decay. And who upon that wrinkled face The lily and the rose can trace We saw the other day? But form and beauty, too, might die, And fire forsake the aged eye; Could any mortal say, My heart is still as warm and light, . As full of hones and fancies bright, As 't was the other day? Repose mankind can never know, They change as on the seasons flow, Until they pass away ; And whilst we live there 's not an hour That sees not fall some cherished flower• That bloomed the other day. The mother sadly bends her head Upon the breast that lately fed A child with glances gay ; See how her eyes now vainly seek The softly dimpled rosy cheek She kissed the other day ! But wander through all scenes of life, Through scenes of peace and scenes of strife, Consult the whole army! • Seek amidst every rank of men, For one who would not fly again Back to the other day. Lovers regret their early sighs, Regret the maiden's downcast eyes, When first she said them nay ; All quaff too soon, a'l would regain The feelings they esteem'd a pain, And quench'd the other day. Children alone look forward still, They pant to climb life's rugged hill, — Oh !in the valley stay; • Stay in the balmy land awhile, Where heaven, and earth, and all things smile Now as the other day ! They listen not, hut onward throng,— Farewell to innocence ere long,— Enjoy then whilst you may! Those rad.ant brows ere long will lower, Ere long you will regret the hour You scorn'd the other day!! But if in joy, and if in woe, Along these twilight plains below, You f;illow virtue's ray, less bitter pangs may ring your breast, When rise amidst your hours of rest Dreams of the other day ! NOTICES. Report of William Foirbairn. Esq , C E., rn the Con. struction of Fireproof Buildings. With Introduc ory Remarks, by Samuel Ho'me. Liverpool: printed by Thomas Baines. Our townsman Mr. Samuel Holme, who last year de livered a talented discourse on " the public improvements of Liverpool," at the Polytechnic Society, (afterwards published,) in which he evinced much classical taste as an architect, has just put forth a most interesting and, at the present time, when fireproof buildings are in rapid pro gress as essential to the commercial prosperity of the town, a most. important pamphlet under the title quoted, which we have no hesitation in strongly recommending to all persons interested in the security of our mercantile buildings, and especially to those who cor template the • Construction of fireproof warehouses. The frightful Number and extent of the fires that have occurred for forty years past, and within the last five years especially. in our town,—involving an immense loss of property, as well as a great loss of life, and the consequent increase of insurances,—at length roused a portion of the moneyed Community lo a sense of the necessity of erecting build ings that would withstand the ordinary risks. In the expressive language of Mr. Holnic, ‘• whole neighbour- hoods have been swept away, principally be the rapidity with which cotton has been consumed ; sad it has been mo uncommon circumstance to see at once a number of warehonses, offices, stables, and dwellings, reduced in a few hours to one smouldering mass of ruin and devasta tion. Since the year 1795 it is conjectured that above sixty lives have been lost during our conflagrations, be sides numbers who have been mutilated or injured ; and, independently of the losses which have had to be borne by the insurance offices, and by those who have, unfortu nately, been uninsured. or only partially covered," (amounting in all to upw a rd s o f £2,000,000 s t er li ng .) " the poor who reside in the vicinity of our warehouses have suffered to an extent of which few lave any coecep tion, by the breakage and removal of their furniture, and by being burnt out of their d we lli ngs a t a ll h ours an d staving. ' Further on in his " bar iductory Remarks," Our author, with equal point, after noticing the long apa thy towards improvement, which had previously found its way in the manufacturing districts, says—" The Formby street fie having, however, burnt us into conviction that some improvement was necessary in our warehouses, and the only building that was saved in that conflagration being the fireproof warehouses belonging to the Royal Bank, which escaped with very trival injury, though fi11,41 with cotton at the time, several gentlemen determined on 'erecting fireproof buildings, amongat whom were Mr. Anthony L. Molyneux, Mr. Harold Littledale, and Mr. Higginson. These have been followed by Mr. P. W. Brancker, in Dublin -street, Mr. James Brancker, in Mathew-street, and several other parties. The buildings erecting by the Messrs. Brancker are of a most extensive character, and when completed will be of the most secure description. The splendid pile in Dublin-street, which covers nearly an acre of ground, will probably be the most complete set of private warehouses tbat hag ever • been erected. But sonic fears having been expressed, that the principle of substituting iron beams and arched floors for the old method of construction was likely to result in danger, and that goods would not be more secure from fire in one mode of building than another, it was deemed advisable to request the opinion of some eminent man on this most important subject who had no local connection With Liverpool, not only to allay the fears of those who were investing large sums is the erection of the buildings, but as a justification to those who had advised this mode of construction." Mr. Fairbairn, a gentleman of great experience and high attainments as an engineer, was selected to visit several of the new warehouses that had been built, and alio to inspect the plans and details of those in course of erection for Mr. P. W. Brancker, which cover nearly an acre of ground. He did inspect them, and here we have his valuable report, also the joint ra•port of himself and Mr. Bellhouse on the causes that led to the destruction stsf Messrs. Radcliffe's mill at Oldham, showing that that fatality did not arise from any want of security in fire. proof warehouses, of iron and brick, but from unskilful construction and want of sufficient strength and proper application in the iron tension rods and beams. Mr. Fairbairn's report on fireproof warehouses generally is exceedingly interesting throughout, and the facts he de duces will not be questioned by any mechanical or scien tific man of experience, who has studied the subject. He states that, in order to give perfect security to fireproof warehouses, they must be constructed upon the following principles : " I.—The whole of the building to be composed of mon-combustible materials, such as iron, stone, or bricks. 2.—ln order to prevent fire, whether arising from accident or spontaneous combustion, every opening or crevice communicating with the external atmosphere to be closed. " 3.—An isolated stone or iron staircase (well protected on every side by brick or stone walls) to be attached to every story, and the staircase to be furnished with a line of water-pipes communicating with the mains in the Street, and ascending to the top of the building. 4.—ln a range of stores, the different warehouses to be divided by strong par ition walls, in no case less than 18 inches thick, and no more openings to be made than ere absolutely necessary for the admission of goods and light. s.—That the iron columns, beams, and brick arches, be of strength sufficient, not only to support a continuous dead pressure, but to resist the force of impact to which they are subject by the falling of heavy goods upon the floors. Lastly, that in order to prevent accident from intense heat melting the columns, in the event of fire, in any of the rooms, a current of cold air be introduced into the hollow of the columns from an arched tunnel under the doors." Adopting these heads, he proceeds to consider each separately, and supplies a mass of valuable information as to the requisite strength of iron, the rise of the arches, ac., to sustain the required weight, or resist the acciden tal falling of heavy packages, and points out the kind of iron doors. frames, shutters, &e., most suitable, strongly recommending those constructed by Messrs. Samuel and James Holme. After alluding to some objections to fire proof warehouses of iron, &c., he concludes by stating— " In my own mind, there is not the shadow of a doubt as to the security of such a structure ; and I do not hesitate to assert, that a well-buil and properly-arranged fire proof warehouse can not only be constructed, but may be wade to entail upon the commercial and manufacturing Communities of this country an important and lasting benefit. Reverting to Mr. Holme's introduction to the report, we may state that it comprises a valuable succinct view Of the calamities by fire that have for many years arisen in the town from the manner in which warehouses have been built, and, in some parts, huddled together; as well as from the deficiency of water,—both of which evils will, he anticipates, be speedily removed—the first by improved buildings, and the latter by the introduction of an abun dant supply of water, in virtue of the recent act. In the Appendix, Mr. Holing has supplied, from offi cial sources, a " List of Fires in Liverpool, and Estimate ef Losses which have taken place in Liverpool since the burning of the Town-hall, in 1795." This is a truly in teresting document, and much trouble and research must have been exnended in procuring it. We select from it She principal fires only, in .h... n the loss in each respec iively ameunted to £15,000 and upwards, not having room for the whole list :- 1795 Jan. 18 Town-hall 1796 7 Sept. 22 Middleton's warehouse, Cheapside 15 , 000 199 May 23 Okill & Co.'s sugar-house, Preeson's row ........... £45,000 ............. 35,000 1802 s.pt. 15 Goreewarehousem,buildings,goodo,&c. 399,500 40,000 1818 Jan. 31 Parr's warehouse, Suffolk•street.. 1821 Jan. 31 Caxton printing-office, Bolton street.. 36,000 1823 Oct. 22 Booth's warehouses, Wapping........ 100,000 1826 Nov. 23 Three sh;pbuilders' yardc, Sefton-st.. 30,000 Tennis -court, Gradwell-street, full of cotton, Wright and A,pinall's, Orford-street and Campbell-street 33,835 50,000 1828 Dec. 25 Holmes's, Old Haymarket ....... 16,000 1830 Mar. 21 Downward and Ryland's sugar-house, H ari ington-street 1831 Dec. 22 Hey wood's warehouses, Fenwiek-street --crerchlnd:ze only 1833 Jan. 14 Lancelot's-hey Fire— Fourteen warehouses . Five dwell , ng-houses Merchandise. . . 35,68 -198,000 .. 40,000 May 24 Dover and Co.'s, Gibraltar-row 1834 Oct. 10 Birkett's, Lancelot's-hey 30.000 Dee. 2 Bird's Castle Mills, Meadows-street 15,000 1838 Oct. 5 Warehouses and merchandise, Robert street 1841 150,000 Sept. 12 Rev. J. Tobin's, Galton-street 23 Great fire, Formby-street...... Dec. 22 Platt and Crane's, Parliament-street 38,663 1843 March 6 Fawcett & Pri-ston's, York-street, and wen-houses in Lydia Anne-street 41,446 19 Wright's warehouses, Jackson-lane 43,587 June 14 Croft's soapery, Comus-street Dec. 28 Brincker's, Mathew-street. &ELECTIONS. ANECDOTE OF Trios' as CAMPBELL.—On one occasion, Profess ,r (af erwards Sir Daniel) Sandford attempted to take precedence of the Lord Rector at a dinner party, but was defeated and somewhat humbled by the quickness of a lady standing at Campbell's side. " Bless me! I was not dreaming of any precedence," said Campbell; "but is it nor strange that Mr. Sandford should be so vain as to think that his being a bishop's son, and a professor should g!ve him any rank, Why, it merely means the son of a dissenting clergyman and a respectable school• master." An anecdote was current at this time of a dig nified functionary of the University—a man of pomp and form. He sneeringly said they would not know where to address the official announcement ; so obscure, it might he inferred, did he consider the man whose poetic fame was bounded only by the limits of civilization. A gentle man present promptly answered, " You have only to ad dress it to the author of the ' Pleasures of Hope,' and put it into the post-office.—Metropolitan Magazine. DISSENTERS' BAPTISM.—A conference of Bishops took place at Easter, 1712, at Lambeth Palace, on the validity of Dissenters' baprism ; arid they all agreed that it was valid; four days afterwards, in consequence of th t conference, the Archbi s h o p of Canterbury drew up the following declaration : —Forasmuch as sundry persons have of late, by their preaching, writing, and discourses, possessed the minds of many people with doubts as to the validity of their baptism, to their great trouble and dis quiet, we, the Bishops arid Archbishops whose names are underwritten, have thought it incumbent on us to declare our opinions, in conformity with the judgment and prac tice of the Catholic Church, and of the Church of England in particular, that such persons as have been already bap. tised with water, and in the names of the Fatl-er, Son, and Hely Ghost, ought not to be baptised again. Arid to prevent any such ra.h practice in our respective dioceses, we do require our several clergy that they presume not to baptise arty adult person whatever without giving us timely notice."—Life of Archbishop Sharp. FALSE DISPARAGEMENT OF THE ENGLISH.—One of the most ludicrous evidences of the rage that has prevailed in England during the last and existing centuries for every thing foreign, without reference to any actual standard of vain:, is the notion, not yet extinct among us, that we are not a musical people! Our old ecclesias tical music is of the very first ordt r, yet we are not a mu sical people 1 The glee we altogether invented, and the beautiful madrigal we carried to a higher pitch than airy other country, yet we are not a musical people! Scarcely two centuries ago, part singing was held an indispensable accomplishment in every lieeral scieme of English edu cation ; and "at a social meeting, when the madrigal books were laid upon the table, everybody was expected to take a share in the harmony ; and any one who declined, on the score of inability, was looked upon with some con tempt, as rude and lose bred ;" but for all that we are not a musical people! Music, of old, marked every stet) in our devotion tl worship, accompanied every kind of sport and festival, was carried round to the humblest d.ior by the itinerant minstrels, and floated from the very watch-towers of our baronial and title c4stles, where the waits or watchmen made the long night musical with their pipings —and yet, sapient Englishmen will have it, we are not. a musical people. It is true, the unhappy decadence so visible in all that relates to the welfare and happiness of the poor, preva Is also, or rather tjh recently did pre vail, in regard to our na'ional music. But the e,cepiions might have told us that it was not owing to any unfitness of the English mind.—llluminated Magazine. A BEAR.--" Were you ever hugged by a bear ?" " Well, I wacret ever hugged ; but onre I was much closer to one than ever I wish to be again."—" Oh ! when was that? Do, pray teU us." said Emma —" It was when I was young, that one day I sounded a tree in the forest with my axe, and I was certain that there was a bear in it ; but the animal did not show itself, so I climbed up the tree to examine the hole at the top, and see if the bear was at home; if so, I was determined to have him out. Wel, Miss, I was on the top of the hollow trunk, and was just putting my head into the hole, when, all of a sudden, the edge of the tree.on which I knelt gave way, like so much tinder, and down I went into the hollow; luckily for me I did not go down head foremost, or there I should have remained until this time, for the hole in the middle of the tree, as I found, was too narrow for me to have turned in, and there I must have stuck. As it was, I came down with the dust and crumbles smothering me almost, till I came right on the top of the bear, who lay at the bottom ; and I fell with such force that I doubled his head down, so that he could not lay hold of me with his teeth, which would not have been pleasant ; indeed, the bear was quite as much, if not more astonished than myself, and there be lay beneath me very quiet till I could recover a little. Then I thon_ht of getting out, as you may suppose, fast enough, and the hollow of the tree, providentially, was not so wide but that I could work up again with my back to one side and my knees to the other. By this means I gradually got up again to the hole that I fell in at, and I perched myself across the timber to fetch my breath. I had not been there much more than a quarter of a minute, and I intended to have remained much longer, when I perceived all of a sudden the bear's head within a foot of me; he had climbed up after me, and I saw he was very angry, so in a moment I threw myself off my perch, and down I went to the ground at the foot of the tree, a matter of near twenty feet, even faster than I went down inside of it. I was severely shaken with the fall, but no bones were broken; in fact. I was more frightened than hurt : I lay quite still for a little while, when the growl of the bear put me in mind of him ; I jumped on my legs, and found that he was coming down the tree after me, and was within six feet of the ground. There was no time to lose; I caught up my rifle and had just time to put it to his ear and se tle him, as he was placing hi s f ore -f oot on the ground. " " hat a narrow escape!"—" Well, perhaps it was; but there's no say ng, Miss, which beats till the fight is over." —Captain Marryat. SINGULAR ANECDOTES OF A RAVEN.—The first ap pearance of Jim Crow was in the street, where be was tied by the leg to a stick, while a pack of inhuman boys were gathering stones to pelt him to death, when Mrs. W., the landlady, kindly interposed and saved the devoted victim. He rapidly tamed, and in a few days exhibited both intel ligence and amusement to his protectors. Upon the landlord, from first sight, be appeared to have centred his affections—and the ardour of the poor bird's attachment almost exceed belief. He watched for his master in the morning, followed him through the day, was always at his elbow when he dined, and if he afterwards in the evening joined a jovial party —as landlords are wont to do—Jim Crow was sure to be upon his shoulder, or on the table, if permitted to make one of the " merrie company." If any person pretended to beat the host the rook attacked him furiously—and, as if be knew that a razor was a lethal in strument, and the carotid in dangerous contiguity, before the barber dare commence operations, Jim Crow had to be secured in another room, to secure; the skater from maltreatment. It might be imagined that the poor rook could reason. The communication' over the Tweed, be tween Spittal and Berwick, is kept up by diieinutive steamers which cross the river repeatedly within the hour. If his favourite were missing, Jim Crow would fly down to the pier and ascertain if the lost one was on board ; and in that event, the rook would cross the river, and no matter where his owner went, he would be found flying by his side, or settled on his shoulder. Of course this personal attendance was occasionally to be dispensed with—but it required no little ingenuity, by turning a corner, or getting down an entry, to enable his master to blink his too faithful friend and companion. If he suc ceeded, the bird would fly up and down the street, look anxiously around—and if he could pop on his lost proprie tor, his joy would be unbounded, and lest another sepa ration should occur, he would stick to him for the re mainder of the day close as his own shadow. If, how ever, Mr. W. managed to get off—a feat not always to be effected—after a sharp search Jim Crow would wing his way across the Tweed, return home, and there anxiously await a reunion with his lost protector. I said that the rook was fond of convivial meetings; and there he was an active auxiliary. Were there a dozen persons at the table, Jim would hop regularly round, receive the scores from the guests respectively, pouch the money beneath his tongue, return to his master, insert the black and horny bill into the clenched hand of mitre host, and honestly deposit there every, coin he had collected. A still more curious anecdote of the bird remains ; and, upon my life ! it goes far beyond my philosophy. The first movement in the morning in the landlords chamber, the first cough or creak of the shoe which announced that his master was afoot—was hailed by this singular bird with loud and exulting cawitts. The I. ndlord was a wag—his marriage bed had not been blessed by a family, and open ing the room door he would remonstrate with his noisy favorite—" What the diet are ye at, mon ? Hauld ye'r tongue or ye'll wauken the bairns !" In a moment the loud and ciamarons caw was changed to one so piano and subdued that had Rubini been his preceptor, Jim Crow's descending scale could not have been more rapid or more euphonious.— Wunderings in the Highlands. A FRENCH HOTEL. —The walls blazed with rows of copper stew pans, highly burnished; ranging, in nice gradations of size, from comfortable elbow-room for a sheep to boil in, whole, down to the guage you would se lect to do one fritter. Among these hung here and there vessels with implements of a more contorted shape, and apocalyptic m ean i ng — cu li nary slembics, probably to dis til the finer flavours ; " portentous e ngines and strange gins," applied when deep and obstinate essences are to be tortured forth for princely deguetation. They filled me with respect for the chef de cusim ; a meagre, thoughtful man ; clad in pure white from head to font, like to some antique hier arc h, surp li ced for sacrificial rites. He, with daring hand, had set a-going seventeen simultaneous pans, big doubtless with the fate of seventeen separate break fasts. Among them his vigilant eye wandered up and down—active, yet serene ; like Goethe's planet, "without haste, without rest." Some of the pans were simmering tenderly ; some frizzled in a louder key ; some rumbled under cover; some, lidless, bubbled full in view. Each had its crisis, and doubtful turning-points—its special contingencies of failure and success. Yet all these com plicated issues his clear mind kept apart, arid severally overlooked. I note d w i t h del i ght the nice discrimina tions of his artistic torches—so fine, and yet so decisive. Into one pan he let fall one single drop from the cruet.. Another lie strired with a s p oon ; f rowne d, and ca s t iii three sort s o f sp i ce. O ne li tt l e one he taste d , and, with a smile gently laid back the lid.—Hood's Magazine. THE PRINCE OF PEACE V. THE DUKE OF WELLING. TON.—I heard a curious account of the condition of the Soto de Roma, the estate of the Duke of Wellington. It is well known this estate was selected by him out of three royal domai ns , w hi c h were off-red to his choice by the first Cortes, as a reward for his great services in the i war ~ f independ e nce. Thi s gran t was con fi rme d by the abso lute king, and never I b e li eve at t empte d to b e interfered with during the successive changes which have taken place, until quite rece n tly, w h en , o f a ll persons living, which, by the by, he was not generally supposed to be until his reappearance o n th e s t age i n the g uise of a chan cery suitor, but the Prince of Peace ! This personage has brought what is equivalent to an action of ejectment against the duke, and c l a i ms th e es t a t e as his property by a former grant of the royal possessor. I understand that the Audiencia, or supreme tribunal of Granada, has more than once decided in his favour, but an appeal being laid at Madrid, the superior court declared itself incompetent to enter on the question, and so it rests. I heard that the title of only the house and a small tract of land adjoining it is effected by this curious claim, and not the greater part of the property. The person alluded to is living at Madrid quite retired, and, it is said, in great poverty, which may readily be believed ; but he finds money suffi cient to carry on the process, and fee not only the bar and solicitors, but the judges also, who must be paid, if you are to credit the Spanish accounts of the mode of admi nistering justice in their courts, though it may be hoped not universally nor to the extent they state.—Captain Widdrington. A ROTHSCHILD IN WANT OF SIX SOUS.—The Chari sari gives a pleasant anecdote of M. de Rothschild, which it affirms is founded on fact. The day was very wet. A thick fog, dark as a prologue, overspread the streets and over shadowed a splendid house at the corner of the Rue Laffi , te. Then a cloud burst, and down came torrents of rain. At this moment a gentleman emerged from the pavement—he was as wet as Dutch soup. He looked for a hackney-coach, and saw nothing but gutters. The gate ways were crowded with persons seeking shelter. The gentleman hesitated an instant—saw an omnibus. dashed into it like lightning, and took his seat, bathed like a Tri ton. lie looked less like a man than a duck. The vehi cle pursued its course, and the gentleman, wrapped in a tweed and a pelisse, seemed to try to dry himself. At length, however, the shower stopped, and the omnibus reached the Rue Richelieu opposite 'the Exchange. The gentleman made a sign to the conductor, rose from his seat. and got out, and was passing away, " And my six sous ?" said the conductor. " Your six sous," rei lied the gentleman with a German accent, " I forgot." The gentlemen thrust his hands into his pockets, tried what was there, and found nothing. " Come, come," said the conductor, getting impatient, " look sharp." " Parblue,' said the gentleman, " I have got no change." " You ar e n farcatr," said the conductor. " Insolent fellow," re joined the gentleman, " I am Monsieur de Rothschild." " Never heard of you," said the man ; " Give me my six sous." At the name of the illustrious banker the passen gers all turned round, whispered, and laughed. "Go to the d-1," said the banker; "I have important business at the Exchange, and must go. There is my card." Give me my six sous," groaned the conductor. M. de Roths child became exasperated. The conductor persisted, and there seemed to be every chance of M. de Roth child being taken into custody for six sous. " Fury !" said the banker, " I shall miss a splendid coup. I have only a order for a million. Give me my change." Saying this, half laughing, half furious, the banker drew from his pocket-book a coupon for 50,000 f. of rentes of five per cent., and presented it to the conductor. The conductor stared, and at this moment an agent de change came by. " Oh, my frie,d," sad Rothschild, " how lucky. '1 am a prisoner r debt. Lend me six sous." The agent turned round, and threw a sf. piece to the conductor. " The d—l," said the man. " This must be some one :" and then, as if struck with remorse, he turned to M. Rubs. child, and said, " If you want ten francs, Sir, I don't mind lending them to you." MARRIAGES IN THE EAST.—The following morning at daybreak, I was awakened by singing voices, which sounded strangely through those solemn cloisters. On descending into the open space in front of the convent., I found a bridal party assembled, and, there being some difficulty on the part of the priests, the villagers were amusing themselves with a dance during the delay. Now, a dance at sunrise is rather a singular occurrence—but it was not less so than the solemn and measured step of the dancers, which David might have imitated without any appearance of levity. Micnal would scarcely have smiled at this choral band, that appeared like a procession swayed about, and slowly undulating to a hymn-like music. All the performers were women; the men, including the bridegroom, decorously sat apart, smoking their pipe s, with an air of gentlemanly indifference. '1 he poor little bride (who was only twelve years old) stood all the while enveloped in a sort of tent, that moved with her like a May-bush on a chimney-sweep. This singular envelop. ment, which exactly resembled a large kaleidscope, co vered with pink silk, pe . nritted us no glimpse of its fair occupant. who was surrounded by a group of staid ma trons. The dance went on, meantime,.with perseverance, if not with spirit. Wreathing their arms round one ano ther, they advanced and retreated in two parties, keeping time to their choral voices —then, forming in a circle, they danced round and round without a smile. Their gay and various drapery floated in picturesque masses of purple or crimson folds, as they moved along; their dark tresses fell in showers la , hind them. or were looped up with golden ornaments or coloured beads; their voices were passing sweet, and the music that they made seemed, to me, ten der, though very wild. While this was going on, the fathers of the expectant couple were bargaining with the priests about the marriage. The dispute was carried on with the usual violent gesticulations, and arose from the priests having raised their price. as I understood. The villagers had brought one dollar, the usual sum demanded for the business; but the minister required four. The conference at length broke up angrily. I grieve to say its is'ue was unfavourable, and I saw the bridal procession move off with regret. I would willingly have furnished the necessary expenses, but I confess I grudged them to the ill-favoured, harsh-spoken friar, who probably, after all, acted only from necessity. As I had bad s , ‘me con versation with the elders of the party, I made an offering towards the dowry of the kaleidoscope, and inquired whi the they were going with the bride. "To the Santos," they replied, " who will do the business quite as well, and only cl arge half a-dollar." When I returned to the con vent, I found the priest still standing at the door of the Latin convent, and ventured to inquire w hether this would not afford a dangerous precedent. " Not so," he said ; " before a child is born, they'll come here to be married properly ; for they are respectable people, and would not have a Moslem child for twice the money.— The Crescent and the Cross. THE DEATH OF LORD CHATLIAM.—Chatham, at the time of his decease, had not, in both Houses of Parlia ment, ten personal adherents. Half the public men of the age had been estranged from him by his errors, and the other half by the exertions which be had made to repair his errors. His last speech had been an attack at once on the policy pursued by the Government, and on the policy recommended by the Opposition. But death at once re stored him to his old place in the affection of his country. Who could hear unmoved of the fall of that which had been so great, and which had stood so long? The cir cumstances, too, seemed rather to belong to the tragic stage than to real life. A great statesman, full of years arid honours, led forth to the senate-house by a son of rare hopes, and stricken down in full council while strain ing his feeble voice to rouse the drooping spirit of his country, could not but be remembered with peculiar vene ration and tenderness. Detraction was overawed. The voice even of just and temperate censure was mute. No thing was remembered but the lofty genius, the unsullied probity, the undisputed services, of him who was no more. For once, all parties were agreed. A public fune ral. a public monument, were eagerly voted. The debts of the deceased were paid. A provision was made for his family. The city of London requested that the remains of the great man whom she had so long loved and ho noured might rest under tife dome of her magnificent Ca thedral. But the petition came too late. Everything was already prepared for the interment in Westminster Abbey. Though men of all parties had concurred in decreeing posthumous honours to Chatham, his corpse was attended to the grave almost exclusively by opponents of the Go vernment. The banner of the lordship of Chatham was borne by Colonel Barre, attended by the Duke of Rich mond and Lord Rockingham. Burke, Savile, and Dun ning upheld the pall. Lord Camden was conspicuous in the procession. The chief mourner was young William Pitt. After the lapse of more than 27 years, in a season as dark and perilous, his own shattered frame and broken heart were laid, with the same pomp, in the same conse crated mould. Chatham sleeps near the northern door of the church, in a spot which has ever since been appro priated to statesmen, as the other end of the same tran- sept has long been to poets. Mansfield rests there, and the second William Pitt, and Fox. and Gran, n, and Can- (ling, and Wilberforce. In no other cemetery do so many great citizens lie within so narrow a space. High over hoSe venerable graves towers the stately monument of Chatham, and from above, his own effigy, graven by a cunning hand, seems still, with eagle face and outstretched arm, to bid England to be of good cheer, and to hurl de fiance at her foes. The generation which reared that me morial of him has disappeared. The time has come when the rash and indiscriminate judgments which his contem porories passed on his character may be calmly revised by history. And history, while, for the warning of vehement, high, and daring natures, she notes his many errors, will yet deliberately pronounce, that, among the eminent men whose bones lie near his, scarcely one has left a more stainless, and none a more splendid, name.—Edinburgh Review. THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD INVITATION TO UNITED PRAYER, FOR THE OUTPOURING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT, ON WED NESDAY, IST OF JANUARY, 1845, BEING THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW YEAR. DEARLY BELOVED IN THE LORD,—It is with feelings of grateful thanksgiving to our Heavenly Father, that I now, for the ninth time, renew my annual invitation for a general concert for Prayer for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, which, be divine permission, wilt be held on the fist day of the New Year, Wednesday, January Ist, 1845. Upon entering upon so spiritual a service, it will be well to hear in mind that striking passage in the 59th chapter of the Prophet Isaiah—" Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither is his ear heavy, that it cannot hear : but your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins hate hid his face from you, that he will not hear." For, whilst this scripture shews us the Lord's readiness to hear our petitions, and his ability to grant our utmost desires, and thus encourages us to draw nigh to a throne of grace," it will lead us to do this with a deeper sense of ous manifold infirmities, with a humble confession of our individual shortcomings, and with a personal application to that " precious blood, which cleanses from all sin." Thus it was that holy Daniel offered up his prayer. First, with humble confession, and then with earnest sup plication. And, surely, at this time such a course is peculiarly re quisite, to give us that confidence in prayer, without which it cannot be effectual. For, without referring to those open transgressions of the ungodly, for which " the Lord is angry with then. every day," consider the present state of the church of Christ Who that compares his own personal religion with the standard laid down in the Wot d of God, but will be ready to smite upon his breast, and say, with the publican, " God be merciful to me a sinner." For reflect upon the description given of the ministers of Christ, and of the trust reposed in them. They are called Men of God," " Ambassadors for Christ," " the glory of the churches ;" they are " in Christ's stead ;" they are set as " examples of the believers in word, in conversa tion, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity ;" they are " put in trust with the gospel ;" they " watch for souls, as they that must give an account;" and such is their love for their divine master, that they "count not their lives dear unto themselves, so that they might finish their course with joy, and the ministry which they have received of the Lord Jesus." Such is their high and holy calling. Who that minis ters before the Lord, when he compares himself with this standard, will not feel as the pi“phet did when he said, " R o is me for I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips." (Isaiah vi. 5.) Then mark the description given of the Lord's faithful people. They are " the salt of the earth," " the light of the world," " a city set upon a hill ;" they " have their conversation in heaven ;" they are directed " to 11 , M forth tne word of life in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation ;" to be followers of God as dear children; to walk in love, as Christ also has loved us, and given him self f. r us ; to be " as servants who wait for their Lord, that, when he cometh and knocketh, they may open unto him immediately." It it be asked where shall we meet with Christians of th s scriptural standard? Will not the tn , st devoted among the Lord's people be ready to say, " My leanness, my leanness. Wo unto me, the treacherous dealers have dealt very treacherously." (Isaiah suit , . 16.) How ne cessary, then, is it, when we enter upon this spiritual ser vice, to bear in mind the scripture to which I have refer red. For the new year approaches under such interesting cir cumstances, as may well call forth our most ardent pray ers. Thus, through the good providence of God, there i 3 at this moment peace throughout all the amid. The So vereign liuler of the Universe, also, has given to our gra cious Queen so large an extent of territory, and such a commanding influence among the nations, that there is scarcely a portion of the haoitable globe, into which either our Christian missionaries, or* the pure Word of God, may not tied an entrance. Such is he present position of the British empire, so peculiarly favourable for the spread of divine truth. Further, whilst in England there are, alas, many things, as noticed in former addresses—which, to use the words of the Pcopoet Ezekiel "are for a lamention, and shall be tor a larnentte ion," still the new year will come in, under these encouraging auspices. That there is a general feel ing amongst the influentidl orders of society, that the prosperity, if riot the absolute safety of our country de pends upon diffusing sound Scriptural religion among the working classes ; raising their moral condition by encou i aging them in habits of industry, temperance, and fru gality ; and in promoting their ge..eral comfort by short ening their hours ot labour, improving their dwellings, and assisting them in husbanding the resources which their own good conduct may supply. Various steps have been taken for carrying these benevolent sentiments into effect. May we not expect that these plans, if the Lord be en- CI ested, may prove the germ of far greater ble-sings. That they may produce kindlier feelings amoi g all classes, a closer union among tile members of our church, and es pecially a greater readiness to receive the glorious truths of the Gospel of Christ. In Scotland, also, the dawn of hope appears. For whilst at the do-e of the last year, we bad but to lament a dis ruption in the established church ; during this year, we might have seen the general assembly of those who left her communion, meeting in a truly Christian spirit, with out using any reproachtul words against their brethren, bnt, in deep abasement of heart, humbling themselves be fore the God of their Fathers, for their own personal short comings, and fur the low state of religion through out the land.* Surely this is a favourable sign —for if hu malty be the soil in which Christian love flourishes, may we not hope that this lowly spirit, if earnest prayer be made, will lead to a fervent desire that every separaiing cause may be removed, and that all who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, may as His disciples of old, " be knit t , getber in love," and br o th er l y union. Oh ! that it may be thus, that He " who devises means, that his banished ones be not expelled from Him," t would yet so unite the two churches, that they might, like Ephraith and Judah, be "as one stick in the hand of the Lord."l: In our sister land also more pleasing prospects appear. Those " monster meetings," as they have been termed, which last year distracted the country, are now no more : and by the blessing of God upon the society for educating the native Irish in their own language, and other religious institutions, a deep impression has lately been made in several places, and a great desire produced for the Holy Scriptures, and for the faithful preaching of the Gospel of Christ. The cause of God's ancient people also is assuming a more interesting state. The influx of the Jews into the holy land has been very great of late. There is no more room in Jerusalem for them, and they have already spread over a part of the Turkish quarter. The number of in quirers after the truth are increasing. Some have been publicly baptized under most Irving circumstances; per mission has also been given to erect our Protestant Church in Jerusalem; the building of which will be again resu med. Added to these tokens of God's returning favour to his people, the Sultan has issued a decree, wit hdravving in some cases the punishme❑t of death from those who re nounced Mahomedanism, thus abrogating to that extent the laws of their prophet, and this in the 1260th year of the Hegira! Such are the circumstances with which the new year approaches. Do not these favourable tokens afford powerful reasons for our again uniting in fervent prayer for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, and for doing this under a sense of our own manifold shortcomings, with humble confession of our sins, and with earnest supplication, that nothing may separate between God and us; but that having all our sum put away through " the blood of the lamb," and our souls clothed with His perfect righteousness, we may " draw near to the throne of grace with a true heart, in full assu rance of faith," remembering that the Lord has said " open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." " A s k wh a t thou wilt, a n d it s h a ll be done unto thee." Allow me then to renew my annual invitation, and to request all who love the Lord Jesus in sincerity, to com mence the new year, by uniting in the general concert for prayer for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, on Wednes nesday, Ist Of January, 1845. The following suggestions are respectfully offered, to assist those who are desirous of a similar union on Wed nesday, Jan. 1, 1845 "la. Let Christians follow the example of our blessed Lord, (Mark i. 25,) who rose up a great while before the day tor secret prayer. Let them thus secure the blessing of Him who says. " Pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. ind. Let them call upon the Lord in their families, for his Spirit to be poured upon themselves and their households, their neighbours, their country, including Great Britain and Ireland and our Colonies, the ministers of the Lord, the churches of Christ, the remnant of scat tered Judah and outcast Israel, and upon the Gentile world, " 3d. Where circumstances will admit of a morning service, let the congregation be assembled, and, in Addi tion to the appointed prayers and a suitable sermon, let all who are devoutly disposed partake together of the Supper of the Lord —or, as may be more convenient, let the whole congregation meet in the evening for public wor ship, and let an appropriate discourse be preached. "4th. Let the ministers of the Lord meet on the fol lowing day, with their bre , hren of their own communion, in earnest prayer for themselves, their flocks, the whole body of Christ, and the world at large ; and then especi ally consult together uprm' the most effectual means for hastening the coming of the Lord's kingdom, and parti cularly for the continuance of such a general concert for prayer, that the sear may proceed according totbis devout commencement." May the Lord accompany these means of grace, or such others as may be adopted, with his abundant blessing! Oh! may it indeed be a season of special refreshment from the presence of the Lord ! fet this be the prayer of all who read tbis paper; and as the new year is now approaching, it would be a great kindness if those who approve the object, and have influ ence over the press, would republish and circulate this invitation, which any one, into whose hands it muy fall, has full permission to do. Peace be wi , h all who love the Lord Jesus in sincerity ! Thus prays their affectionate Brother, And servant in the Lord, JAMES HALDANE STEWART. S't. Bride's, Liverpool. * SPe the rublished Reports of the General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotl ind, in May and August. 1841. t Sam. xiv. 14. Ezek. xxxvii, 29. II See their Report, particularly that of the Irish Society for 1844. CHESTER CATTLE FAIR.—The usual November cattle fair was held on Thursday. There were but few milch cows shown. Fat Beef of good quality was worth sd. per lb. and sink. Fat sheep sold for s;d. and 6d. The horse fair was indifferently attended. The show was poor and the demand limited. MISS MARTINEAU AND MESMERISM. The Atheneum contains a long communicati n from Miss Martineau, detailing the particulars of a wonderful cure which, she says, has been effected by mesmerism, after a serious illness of five years and a half. Of the character of the disease under which she suffered, she thus speaks :—" This is not the place in which to give any details of disease. It will be sufficient to explain briefly, in order to render my story intelligible, that the internal disease under which I suffered appears to have been coming on for ninny years; that, after warnings of failing health, which I carelessly overlooked, I broke down, while travelling abroad, in June 1839 ; that I sank lower and lower for three years after my return, and re mained nearly stationary for two more preceding last June. During these five years I never felt wholly at ease for one single hour. I seldom ha] severe pain, but never entire comfort. A besetting sickness, almost disabling me from taking food for two years, brought rite very low, and, together with other evils, it confined me to a condi tion of almost entire stillness—to a life passed between my bed and my sofa. It was not till after many attempts at gentle exercise that my friends agreed with me that the cost was too great for any advantage gained ; and at length it was clear that even going down one flight of stairs was imprudent. From that time I lay still, and by means of this undisturbed quiet, and such an increase of opiates as kept down my most urgent di-comforts, I passed the last two years with less suffering than the three preceding. There was, however, no favourable change in the disease. Everything was done for me that the best medical skill and science could suggest, and the most indefatigable humanity and :amily affection devise, but nothing could avail beyond mere alleviation. My dependence on opiates was desperate. My kind and vigilant medical friend—the most sanguine man I know, and the most bent upon keep ing his patient hopeful—avowed to me last Christmas, and twice afterwards, that he found himself compelled to give up all Lope of affecting the disease—of doing more than keeping me up, in collateral respects, to the highest practicable point. This was no surprise to me, for when arty specific medicine is taken for above two years without affecting the disease, there is no more ground for hope in reason than in feeling. In June last I suffered more than usual, and new measures of alleviation were resorted to. As to all the essential points of the disease I was never lower than immediately before I made trial of mesmer ism." Miss Martineau then gives the following narra tive :—" On Saturday, June 22, Mr. Spencer Hall and my medical friend came, as arranged, at my worst hour of the day, between the expiration of one opiate and the taking of another. By an accident. the gentlemen were rather in a hurry —a circumstance unfits ottrable to a first experiment. But result enough was obtained to encou rage a further trial, though it was of a nature entirely unanticipated by me. I had no other idea than that I should either . t rop asleep or feel nothing. I did not drop asleep, and I did feel something very strange. Various passes were tried by Mr. Hall ; the first that appeared effectual, and the most so for some time after, were passes over the head made from behind, passes from the forehead to the back of the head, and a lit , le way down the spine. A, very short time after these were tried, and 20 minutes from the beg nning of the seance, I became sensible of an extraordinary appearance, most unexpected, and wholly unlike anything I had ever conceived of. Something seemed to diffuse itself through the atmosphere—not like smoke, nor steam, nor haze—but most like a clear twi. likh - , closing in from the windows and down from the ceiling, and in which ore object after another melted away till scarcely anything was left visible before my wide-open eyes. First the outl ne of all objects was blurred : then a bust, standing on a pedestal in a strong light, melted quite away ; then the opposite bust ; then the table with its gay cover; then the floor, and the ceil ing, till one small picture, high up on the opposite wail, only remained visible, like a patch of phosphoric light. I feared to move my eyes, lest the singular appearance should vanish ; and I cried out, 0! deepen it ! deepen it!' supposing this the precursor of the bleep. It could not be deepened, however ; and when 1 glanced aside from the luminous point I found that I need not fear the return of objects to their ordinary appearance while the rasses were continued. The busts re-appeared, ghost like, in the dim atmosphere, like faint shadows, except that their outlines, and the parts in the highest relief, burned with the same phosphoric light. The features of one, an Isis with bent head, seemed to be illumined by a fire on the floor, though this bust has its back to the win dows. Wherever I glanced all outlines were dressed in this beautiful light ; and so they have been at every Ae - ance, without exception, to thi s say ; though the at). pearance has rather given way to drowsiness since I left off opiates entirely. This appearance continued during the remaining 20 minutes before the gentlemen were obliged to leave me. The other effects produced were, first, heat, oppression, and sickness; and, fur a few Lours after, disordered stomach, followed, in the course of the evening, by a feeling of lightness and relief in which I thought I could hardly be mistaken." The second application of mesmerism was made by Miss Martineau's maid. " Mr. Hall," says Miss Mar tineau, " was prevented by illness from coming over, too late to let me know. Unwilling to take my opiate while in expectation of his arrival, and too wretched to do without some resource, I rang for my maid, rind asked whether she had any objection to attempt what she saw Mr. Hall do the day before. With the greatest alacrity she complied. Within one minute the twilight and phos phoric lights appeared ; and in two or three more a deli cious sensation of ease spread through me—a cool com fort, before which all pain and distress gave way, oozing out, as it were, at the soles of my feet. During that hour, and almost the whole evening, I could no more help ex claiming with pleasure than a person in torture crying out with pain. I became hungry, and ate with relish, for the first time for five years. 'There was no heat, oppres sion, or sickness during the serance, nor any disorder af terwards. During the whole evening, instead of the lazy hot ease of opiates, under which pain is felt to lie in wait, I experienced something of the indescribable sensation of heal h. which I had quite lost and forgotten. I walked about my ro nog, and was gay and talkative. Something of this relief retrained till the next morning; and then there was no reaction. I was no worse than usual ; and perhaps rather better. _ . " Nothing is to me more unquestionable and more striking about this influence than the absence of all re action. Its highest exhilaration is followed, not by de pression or exhaustion, but by a further renovation. From the first hour to the present, I have never fallen back a single step. Every point gained has been steadily held. Improved composure of nerve and spirits has fol lowed upon every mesmeric exhilaration. I have been spared all the weaknesses of convalescence, and carried through all the usually formidable enterprises of return from deep disease to health with a steadiness and tran quillity astonishing to all witnesses. At this time, before venturing to speak of my health as established, I believe myself more firm in nerve, more calm and steady in mind and spirits, than at any time of my life before. So rr.uch in consideration of the natural and common fear of the mesmeric influence as pernicious excitement—as a kind of intoxication." Miss Martineau mentions several incidents. " Another striking incident occurred in one of the earliest of my walks. My mesmerist and I had reached a headland nearly half a mile from home, and were resting there, when she proposed to mesmerize me a little—partly to refresh me tor our return, and partly to see whether any effect would be produced in a new place and while a fresh breeze was blowing. She merely laid her hand on my forehead, and in a minute or two the usual appearances came, assuming a strange air of novel , y from the scene in which I was. After the blurring of the outlines, which made all objects more dim than the dull gray day had already made them, the phosphoric lights appeared, glo rifying every rock and headland, the horizon, and all the vessels in sight. One of the dirtiest and meanest of the steam tugs iii the port was passing at the time, and it was all dressed in heavenly radiance—the last object thit any imagination would select as an element of a vision. Then, and often before and since, did it occur to me that if I had been a pious and very ignorant Catholic, I could not have escaped the persuasion that I had seen heavenly vi sions. Every glorified object before my open eyes would have been a revelation, and my mesmerist, with the white halo round her head, and the illuminated profile, would have been a saint or an angel." THE NEW PARISH OF ST. BARNABAS. (Abridged from the Manchester Guardian.) Most of our readers are aware that the parish of Man chester is a very extensive one ; comprising an area of 34,507 statute acres, and containing thirty townships (of which the principal are Manchester, Salford. Chotlton on-Nledlock, Hulme, and Ardwick), and 353,390 inha bitants. Its ecclesiastical governm:nt is vested in the clean and chapter of Manchester; and the whole parish, up to the passing of a recent ac', has hitherto been main tained intact, notes ithstanding its great extent and immense population. An act was passed, however, in July, 1843, (6th and 7th Victoria, cap. 37,) the ninth clause of which, recognising the existence of large districts in which the provision for public worship and pastoral superintendence was insufficient for the spiritual wants of the inhabitants, enacts, that the ecclesiastical commissioners, with the consent of the bishop of the diocese, may constitute such districts, having no consecrated church or chapel in use, separate districts for spiritual purposes, provided that the minister of such district be permanently endowed with not 1 , -iss than £lOO ; and, if of less value than £l5O, to be in. creased to that sum, at the least, so soon as the district shall have become a new parish. The fifteenth clause enacts, that when any church or chapel shall be built, purchased, or acquired, i n suc h district, such district shall, from and after the consecration of such church or chapel, be deemed to be a new parish for ecclesiastical purposes, and shall be known as such by the name of " the new parish of ," instead of "the district of ;" and such church or chapel to be the church of such new parish. Thereu pen it is to be lawful to publi s h banns of ma , rimony, and to solemn ise marriages, bap tisms, churchings, and burials; receiving fees thereon, (except for baptisms,) to be fixed by the chancellor of the diocese, and the like Easter offerings and dues as, before the separation, were payable to the incumbent of the principal parish church. The sixteenth clause en acts , that on the di-trict becoming a parish, the minist er s h a l l become perpetual curate of the new parish. Tile seven tent°, teat two churchwardens, " members of the united Church of England and Ireland," shall be chosen ; one by the perpetual curate and the other by the inhabitants of the new parish, within twenty-one days from the con secration of the church. The 19th clause p rov id es for the , endowment or augmentation of income of the minister or perpetual curate, and gives an annual sum as compensation to the incumbent of the mother church. Clauses 20 and 21 relate to the patronage to these new. churches ; and the 24th section enacts that the church-hu ldin 4 commission -odi thatda 8 o the Victoria, diitr crown i distric ts ts cap. commission ers may make grants for the purpose s o f t hi s act. Then, another short act (chiefly explanatory o f t h e former) was clause p the as firsted ' g i o v enl e a s tuh p : o e 9wothr whichA to u S v u a l r s yt ena cts last , th u b (7 u limited time. m ay ay no minate the mini ster or perpetu a l curate; and the 9th within Dec. 3, 1844. lUnder these statutes the new parish of St. Bartishat Manchester, has been severed from the parish of MO: ► Chester, for ecclesiastical purposes, and erected into& new 1 parish, with a church, perpetual curate, and immunitie of its own. As this is not only the first slice taken fr o t h _ the parish of Manchester, but as it is also the first cr eati p t of a new parish under the acts noticed, we may brisql notice the circumstances of this remarkable change intle ecclesiastical constitution of parishes. i f t council of the 7th ult., containing a scheme propo sed Z last, for constituting a sep a rat e district for spiritual poi the ecclesiastical commissi o ners, dated the 13th Aug...., In the Gazette of the 22d ult. appeared an or der ._ poses, out of the district of St. George, in the pa rish Manchester. This scheme, after citing the acts, sets'ad forth that the district of St. George is of great extent' s , r contains a I.rge population, and that the provision for public worship a n d pas t ora l super i n t e ndence there in insufficient for the spiritual wants of the inhabitants; lit. that the part!c u l ar p ar t d escr ib e d did n ot then CO ntusui wihin its limits any consecrated church or chapel in so pr o, for the purpose of divine worship. The coremiss'° ° ;h o therefore, (with the consent of the Bishop of C had signed and sealed the scheme,) recommend that all that part of St. George's district described in the sc", e . tti - i d annexed, be constituted a separate district for sinr i b ` ar , purposes, to be named " The District of St. Barn a er . Manchester." They further recommend, in order P is. manently to endow the minister, that they (the c °l3/r9 ef siosers) pay him yearly £lOO, and the further suul the £3O on any building being licensed by the bishop foru performance of divine service ; and so :oon as a ch or chapel should have been approved of by the 0 0 1 8 1 0 sionsrs and consecrated, and such district should er thereby become a new parish for ecclesiastical PueP ° '' : the commis-inners to pay its perpetual curate Xlsoat e ,l o The scheme further states, that as £1666 13s. 4d. hed,, a t s contributed to such permanent endowment, and Pa'"•,4 l the commissioners, and a church had been erected I , they were s , tisfied was fit to be approved by themsel 7, h e ster, t and consecrated by the bishop, and the commissi" e be recommend that the nomination of perpetual curate tot district or new parish of St. Barnabas shall be eserci,7 by five gentlemen named, as trustees of such right of tronage and nomination. The schedule then sets out,.. g. t' boundaries of the dist r ict o r new parish of St. Barn The order in council states th a t the draft of the s eh O l d has been transmitted to the i ncum b en t s an d patrons the parish of Manchester, who have consented to Or o scheme ; that it has been a pp rove d b y h er Moies t ,/,11 council ; and having been ratifi e d by h.n. Majesty declared to be effectual in law immediately after its Pt ir lication in the Lo n d on G azet t e . I t i s a l so directed ti,l7 diocese , This this order in cou n cil be reg i stere d b y t h e reg i strar O f first is the o f Chester.case in which an endowment has bees granted and a parish assigned, and the right of patroug e , perpetually vested in trustees, u n d er th e acts to w hich", have alluded. In all other cases where parishes been divided, the nomination hay either remained withl," 6 crown, with the patrons, or with the i ncum b e nts O f " original er mother parish church. The church of St. Barnabas has been erected near the tb south-east corner of the new parish, adj o i n i ng Eliss. ,e ke and Rodney -streets. It has been chiefly erected bY it liberally with " Association for the purpose of e rec ti ng ten c hurches,' I which society contribut e d t o th e amount o f £3OOO for w th Other douat friends,donations u h f however, e e y r have e also materials;co m and e fur s i estimated that the church will probably cost net less altogether than abo u t £5OOO. Th e e difi ce is in_Ltes early Norman style of a rc hit ec t ure , an d wi accoranwu-,.. nearly 1100 persons ; and it is i n t en d e d t hat o f t heseru%'; than one-half will be provided with f ree s i t ti ngs ; end remainder of the pew s will b e l e t a t l ow renta l s to the"' habitants of the parish. The trustees have selected the Rev. Henry Deck for tl / 6 pastorship of the new parish. CORRESPONDENCE. TO THE EDITOR OF THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD' SIR,—As the " Fri en d t o Shi p b u ildi ng, " the writer 1 a letter in the Standard of the sth instant, has 110 ,t'„/ suppose, seen my letter which app eare d i n th e Ma i l the 16th in reply th , reto. 1 request the favour of II republishing the two l e tt ers w i t h t hi s i n your ne st Pt!, location of the Standard : and if the " Friend to Shltia building" does not the n r e t rac t th e i mputat i ons c ontaine a in his letter on the p ro f ess i ona l c h aracter o f Li v ere o shipbuilders, 1 shall proceed with a series of i n quirie s ; the first part of which w ill em b race a crit i ca l exam inatl° on a small work entitled " G rant h am on I ron as a Mate , rial for Shipbuilding." I am, sir, your obedient servant. JOHN WILSON GREEN. Ship-yard, Clarence Dock, 27M Nov., 1844. TO THE EDITOR OF THE LIVERPOOL MAIL. . 4 noticed in the Liverpool Standard of f ; h e i th instant a letter s ign e d a " Friend to Shipbuilding, / 1 " f - ° ,, induced me to send a lette r t o th e S tan d ar d- o ffice, rtl insertion in that paper, and I gave the name of a P i. e, b to whom I attributed th e l etter i n question, for . "r reason I apprehend my letter did not appear in that p a p er last Tuesday. The " Friend to Shipbuilding," whoever he maY be ! would fain appear solicitous for the profes.ional character of Liverpool shipbuild e rs, in w hi c h h e m ust either sincere or otherwise, and he must also be cognizant , the subject on which be writes, or ignorant tbereof. sincere, he betrays an ignorance of the subject ; ledhlni rant, then imbecility and selfi s hn ess h ave procop in this instance, he having some ulterior object in view' He appears to have been delighted, from his expressioor with the perusal of a letter or letters on Shipbuilding , winch also appeared in the Standard, signed `• Jolla Cock," for he speaks of the art being developed by Mr. Cock, and. suggests that the Livrrp..l shipbuilders take a lesson therefrom, and whom be charges with puerility, want of experience, ana professional attainments. Mr. Cock may be master builder at Pembroke dock pard. or master's attendant, or foreman, or anything elSer who or what he is being quite immaterial to me. I, fo r one, would profit if I could by the suggestion ; bur only development that 1 can di s cov er i s , that Mr. cock. has read one or more of the m a ny writings which appeared on the subject, without his having unfolded ant new doct ine or advanced any new hypothesis. I merely make of these the , Fri e d observations toShipbuilding" :.s being pe rt i annedn,t th t O the intelligence authority upon which the c h arges are f oun d e d ; and "`"" I might stop, if 1 had only to show the ignorance and WI: becility of our impu gner , b ut as t h ere i s a par ty in tl ) town to whom 1 attribute the letter signed a " Friend tO Shipbuilding," and whom I know has insidiously aPek ea of the professional character of Liverpool shipbuildr re a and at the same time endeavoured to extol himself; au s as he professes to be a n eng i neer , nava l arc hi tec t, and person acquainted with th e sc i ences genera ll y , s o as ~ design, ditect, and be consulted thereon, I desire to en: inquiry ; for I app re h en d t h a t so comprehe n sive a in even with its own ex er ti on , may not b e so ex t e asiveil known and appreciated as it shou:d be, and, therefor e ' by the investigation, w e t h e shipbuilders may sland,l fall, and this remarkable person, whom I may bring out," will rise to that high professional and O P ' entific character which he will deserve, or, at least, p ro. bably, save some person s f rom being deceived by his P re' tensions. I am, sir, your obedient servant, JOHN WILSON GAggr4. November 14M, 1844. DREADFUL CASE OF STABBING AT SEA.—CODS/d erP t ble sensation was created in this town on WednesdaY Isg by a rumour (which proved to be true) that CaPta'i Launcelot Reed, of the ship S ir Ch ar l es N ap i er (714 ion s „ii had been maliciously and dangerously stabbed by one his crew, on the high seas. The ship left St. Stephe n _ for Liverpool on the 25th of la s t month with timber, co s ' signed to Messrs David Cannon and Co., of South Cot"' street. On the morning of the 16th instant she was ov er ' taken by a squall in lon. 26 W. The capt a i n or d er ed th e turn to take in sail, but percei v i ng t h at one o f the cte , a ' t Samuel Brown, was tardy i n hi s movements, he gave b a push, when Brown m a d e a p l unge at him with sv- h 7t - s turned out to be a s he at h-k n if e. The captain gave Inui,r, blow in return, which threw him against the long- ° ,l O and then seized him to put him in confinement. removing him he made several attempts to stunt) CIIP‘, e " - 0 Brown with th e k n if e, t h ough w i thout effect; but, "40 near the mainmast, gave a stab in the abdomen. captain only now became conscious , f the deadly ills"' went with which he was assailed, and call, d out to th e mate that he was murdered. The mate and others On r ; cluditng Mr. Porter. the supercargo, and son of the oW" e , Mr. W. Porter, of St. St, phen's) ran to 11 , s assisla. n „ c ,' and he was removed into the cabin. It was then tih" b " e vere d that a portion of his hotels protruded from I _ 4 wound, which was sewed up. He had also received V A °tin r stabs. and no fewer than eleten cuts in the kc „,"( he wore. From that tine the captain was incapableia, removal from the cabin floor, and suffered extreme. fa Blown was put in irons. The vessel arrived on We ti r,.. day, and the captain wes taken on s h ore , an d the co ld lodged in Bridrweil. The case was heard cn Thur . ' and Friday before Mr. Rushton and Mr. S. Per ci '.. l ,.; when these fact s t ransp i re d . T he captain adm i tte d tiT a he first struck the prisoner, and one of the mateg ss that the prisoner, when put in irons, stated, on h, m t qnestioned, that h e was i n suc h a passion at the t i m e he did not know what he was doing. The prisoner , r o e made no d e f ence, was committed for trial at the ass' 0, for attempting t o kill. Th e capta i n i s a marr i e d 08 0 1 . , twenty .nine years of age, and belongs to Livers St , Brown is t wen t y -f our years o f age, shippe d f r om " John's, New Brunswick, and is a British subject. CHESTER CHE ESE F A i rr .—A t thi s f a i r on W e dnes' ' %ler only a sm a ll q u an tity, a b out 140 tons, was piled for and it was principally of a comnion quality. The Nol iir e bar fair is that a t whi c h th e b uyers f rom t h e Y"r ks ha se and Lancashire manu f ac t ur i ng di s t r i cts come to por u e ,. n g their " Christmas o r w i n t er stoc k." Th e quantity Lus, Small, and the buye rs f rom th ose districtsnwr", ( . l lst caused the sale to be brisk at fully 3s. to ss. above t h e i re, fair. Prices ruled genera ll y 46 5 . to 58 s. There 1 /.. e , however, some few exceptions above or below these_clA s . tations; and we have h ear d o f one d a i r y t h a t realise d er g Several dairies wer e t a ke n away unso ld, as the far m " woulnot take the oers:fr the. The DECAY of the TEE T H aris m es from various colsli hut, principally, it ma y b e attr ib u t e d to ear ly negle c t ' co l m i n er and or the use of T oo th P ow d ers c on t a ining ' n . o f and other deleteri ous ac id s , w hich gi v e a momen i I whiteness to the te e th, while they corrode the ena n l e o The extreme prevalence of this last cause is too well 10, 1 ,u_ 0 , to need comment. To this fact, indeed, is principa lly co be attributed the long botanical research, which W . !: t 0 terminated by the meat felicitous discovery ever gi ve ' ,1 the world for the Preservation of the TEETH, GlJBlalFl i Ilits:A•rn, viz.—ROWLAND'S ODONTO. or PEtt tio , DENTIFRICE : this Powder now occupies aPa ,he guished place at the Toilets of the Sovereigns an a nd Nobility throughout Europe, while the general d en, fur it at once announces the favour which it is unive rse 0 held.—Ste advt.