The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-01-09 00:00:00

titeraturt. POETRY. A MISSIONARY HYMN. BY MISS M. A. GAMMAGE. (For the Liverpool Standard.) " In due season we shall reap, if we faint not."—GaL. vi. 9 Raise high the standard of the cross ! Spread the glad news abroad. Til! all the kingdoms of the earth Shall bow before the Lord. What. thourt, the enemies of Christ May strive to bar the way; What earthly power. what earthly might, The King of kings shall stay? Our God is with ns. doubt ye not The issue of the fight; lie sheds upon our onward path A stream of living light. Fear not the darkness of the lands Shall fade before its ray; Cn every sad inquiring soul Shall rise the Gospel day. Faint not! the great and glorious prize Is even now in view; Keep hut the promise in your hearts And ye shall find it true. Is not your cause the cause of God? And who can doubt success, When He hath pledged His word of truth The woos of love to bless? Oh, Thou who nearest prayer ! send forth Thy power and might we pray, And let the glimmering., light shine on To pure and perfect day. "PAPA ! WHO ARE THE IRISH?" The " Irish" are people who brawl, my child, In the " Conciliation Hall," my child, Who would kick up a row, If they only knew how, And were proof against powder and ball, my child. The " Irish" are those who don't care, my child, If their dopes should go hungry and bare, my child; Who excite discontent, To fill DAN'S bag with " rent," And make profit of want and despair, my child. The "Irish" are those who talk loud, my child, To excite an i fl mutable crowd, my child; But the Lion of Law Only lifts up his paw, And at once they stand cringing and cow'd, my child. These " Irish" call" Saxon" and " slave," my child, To all on their plans who look grave, my child; White " tyrants" are they Whom the loyal obey. From confusion the country to save, my child. These "Irish" of concord can prate, my child, All the while teaching discord and hate, my child; Bringing scandal and shame On an Irishman's name: May contusion their projects await, my child ! CARDINAL DE RETZ, oli THE COURTIER'S PLOT. BY PETER POPJOY, Esq. (For the Liverpool Standard.) CHAPTER X. The unwilling conspirator—A sudden and unexpected ♦isitor. THE utters-ce of this distinguished name swelled at once the indignant feeling that had been gradually gathering in Fabien's breast. He now began to perceive the task that was required of him. "And is it." said he, with an honest energy, "the first prince of the Royal blood—the great Conde—that it is proposed Ishould assas,inate ?" Peace! peace! in [leaven's name," said the Baron, with an eir of alarm ; " some one will hear you." " And do von, brother. req&re me to embrue my hands in such noble blood? Is it your wish that I should strike the hero—the very saviour of France?" " Silence, Fabien—or I swelr"— " And do you think that you can make me believe—l who am but a siatele eouetryman—that the Queen of France has given so horrible a cernmand ? " Be silent, Sir, 1 caunnand you," said the Baron, seizing him by the arm. The next moment Fabien beheld a dagger glittering over his head. Q'iick as lig/a:lke., the hardy youth flung off his brother's grasp, and caught hold of the threatening steel ; he was about to direct its point against the Baron's breast—he, however, cast it from him, and sunk on the nearest seat, covering his face with his hands. A silence of some moments followed this rapid scene. 4 4 Monsieur de Croissi," at length murmured Fabien, in an altered tone of voice • " what w ou ld our poor f at h er have said had he seen us—his sons, just now ?" " He would have said, Fabien," replied Alb er t, w i t h boldness, " that you are an obstinate and thick-headed fool, who instead of coolly clistpe:ing those measures which cannot but tend to your advancen-te, can utter words so loudly, that, if heard, would ir,,,vitably cast both of us into a state prison. Come, PaLtar," said he, all at once moderating his tone, and approaching his brother, " let us forget this disagreeable encounter, and let us calmly converse, without passion or prejudice. You have taken offence at a proposition which many of the nobles of Paris would have accepted without hesitation ; if they could have only complied with the terms of the agreement. To quote an example in justification of this affair, the great Duke de Guise rendered to France quite as many services as this turbulent and ambitious Prince de Conde; nevertheless, be was poignarded in the anti-chamber of Henry 111 ! There was no one could blame those gentlemen, who but obeyed the order of their sovereign —their escutcheon did not receive any stain from this act of during; and I could call to your mind many of their de , cendants amongst us who carry their bends high at court, and who speak of their father's deeds as r . ,f commendation, and as proofs of loyalty. That .nisi we must all deplore the most, Fabien, is, that party rage should have put the Queen in such an extremity that she cannot save France, without having recourse to the means which her own heart, and the hearts of her devoted adherents, cannot but re prove as much as you." The wily Baron now paused to judge of the effect which this specious speech might have upon his brother. Fabien remained pensive and abstracted, as if he measured the depth of the abyss into which his brother wished to plunge him. " Sir!" at length asked he, in a tone which he simu lated, and with a calmness which he did not feel, " I am not skilled in casuistry, and I cannot dispute with you upon matters like these. I wish to know what will become of me if 1 refuse to accomplish the task which you have prescribed me ?" 4 " You must have thought, Fabien," replied the Baron, his brows lowering as he spoke, " that is, if you think at all, that in the event of your refusal to accede to our wishes, when you were possessed of the important secret, we have notomitted to adopt means for our safety. Your betrayal of our intentions to the Prince would be a pretext fora civil war, and a specious one it would be, indeed, to the new faction. If, therefore, you refuse to serve us, be hold that which would shelter us from your indiscretions." So saying, the Baron laid upon the table several blank lettres-de-cachet. " I need only endorse your name upon one of these pa pers," continued he drily, " and in one hour the doors of Vincennes or the Bastille would be closed for ever upon you." " What, sir," said Fabien, in au accent of bitter re proach ; " would you, Albert de Croissi, allow me to lan guish in a state prison because I have refused to accom plish a deed which my conscience abhors ? Albert, my brother—you would not do this ?" " I would—l would deliver you up myself," said De Croissi, in a fierce tone ; " you little think, young man, bow slightly you are valued in comparison to the safe keep ing of such secrets as*that you are now in possession of.' " But I am something now before you," said Fabien, drawing himself up to his full height, "we are alone. I am more active than you, and I will defend myself against such an act of tyranny." The Baron shook his head with an air of pity; when, rising gravely, he laid hold of Fabien gently by the arm, and led him to the window, where, pointing to the court yard below, he showed him several persons of sinis ter aspect who were lounging about. " I told you that all my precautions were taken. Look • at those fellows; those men would slay you in an instant were Ito make to them the least sign. Without the least compunction they would not scruple to execute a lettre de-cachet to conduct you to Vincennes. A coach awaits our coming close by. Several confidential persons surround the house, and would enter it, on the least noise being made. While I now speak to you any one may come into this hotel, but no one can leave it without my express permission." " I care not. I will proclaim your secret ; I will stir up the people." " if you cry out, you shall be gagged ; and if you divulge the secret to your guards, they will be doomed to partici pate in your captivity ; and I look upon you as being a man of too honest a nature to drag a poor fellow into the same scrape as yourself. As it is, I have so arranged matters that they will not believe you, whatever you should say to them ; and no credence would be placed in your words, if the people even should gather about you on your way to prison I I need only show the royal mandate, and every one will be satisfied and quiet. We must have no non sense, sir ; it may perhaps cost you dearly to trifle with me." A silence followed these words ; the younger De Croissi cast himself on a seat with an air of despair, convinced that all resistance was useless. The Baron stood before him, calm, cool, and inexora ble. " Come, be quick," said he, after a pause; " have you decided ?" " Sir," said Fabien, slowly, " you have spoken to me of committin g a crime ; but why do you not mention my reward ?" This inquiry at length ece announced that Fabien bad de cided to yield to necessity. This seeming consent, however vague and unsati s N y a t ct . or i lygiven, appeared to con vince Albert th at his object was gained. But he dared not l ea ve him to himself. " The reward," said he, you know yOud that will be im mense, and, I may add,.all that Mile. de Montglat, and wish to marry her. A. you love dowry will be allotted to her; title, and riches magnificent also, will be yours. " But," interrupted Fabien, warmthat the " is it t rue tbe Countess is acquainted with this arranzement, and that she is ready and willincr to ratify it ? She has been 11.1ceived, or I deceive myself." " Upon my honour, as a gentleman, she is deeply en gaged in this plot, and has undertaken on her part to re ward with her hand and fortune your devotion to her royal mistress." " And is she, too," cried the young man—" is she, too, in league with my brother to induce me to become an as sassin ?" Fabien hid his face in his hands, upon the table, and shed abundant tears. The wily Baron profited by thi s s h ow o f f eel i ng, an d employed all his perfidious arts, acquired by long expe rience at court, to extract from Fabien a consent. He entreated, then th r e a t ene d . H e enumerated at l eng th the grievances that had accumu l ate d i n France s i nce the death of Louis XII., all of which he attributed to the pride and ambition of Conde. He endeavoured also to prove to his brother, that in obeyi ng a l eg itimate power he did nothin g con t rary to divine or human j ust i c e, and at length allud e d t o t h e great rewards which lie would have a right to demand, an d o bt a i n, when lie had succeeded . Fabien did not seem to li sten to him, so a bsorbed was ' he in grief. At l engt h , raisin., himself up —with a chok ing voice, he as k e d , " C an you show me an order wr itten by the Queen, i n h er own h andwriting, w hich commands me to strike so foul a blow ?" " Such an order as that, Fabien, wou ld be too danger ous to sign, an d it would be absurd to ask it; but if you wish, an d w ill b e content with a verba l i ns truction, I will promise you that you shall see the Queen, and she shall deliver it to you herself." " And Elizabeth, the Countess de Montglat; can you place me i n h er presence, an d l et me hear_from her lips her approbati on o f thi s t err ibl e en ter Prize?" " I can." " Well, then," said Fabien, " I accept the task on this double condition ;•I will do what is desired of me by these two ladies : one I respect, the other I dea r ly love. ' This was said with some little wildness of manner, but Albert saw nothi ng b u t t h e g ratification of his wishes. " I hope you do n o t—l thi n k you cannot wish to de ceive me, Fabien," sa id th e B ar on ; " youintend to do so, let me tell you that you are playing a perilous game. I repeat to you that you shall be told by brth the Queen and Mlle. de Montglat that this act is necessary to save France. But, Fabien, you will have, in your turn, to swear to us devotion to our cause, and discretion when put to the test. If the blow fails, we will assuredly save you, but you must not mur mur at the tortures you will have to sustain, or the rigours with which you may be treated. You must swear to us to remain silent as the grave ; one avowal from your lips would perhaps bring about destruc aon to the Queen, the Countess de Montglat, and many others." " I Rill not make this promise to you, brother," said Fabien, in a tone of reprimand ; " it is not to you I will swear to maintain my vow. None other than the Queen has a right to demand it of me." " Well, you shall see her to-night." " And Elizabeth ?" At this moment, a gentle knock at the door was heard, and a soft voice calling on the staircase. Fabien at once recognised it. " Here she is herself," cried he; we will now see if you are deceiving me." At the same time, Fabien unbarred the door, when Eli zabeth, enveloped in a dark mantle, and wearing a black mask, suddenly entered the apartment. ( To be continued.) NOTICES. Blackwood's Magazine. We have perused the number for the present month with much pleasure, and, we trust, no little profit. It contains several sound, argumentative, and well-penned articles of a political character, as well as a considerable variety of others, some of them involving interesting real adventure and perils, and some of that lighter and inven tive description which range themselves amongst the pro ductions of the tale-writer, the novelist, and the poet. The first article, headed " Sate Prosecutions," inquires into the relative systems of legal procedure pursued in past and in present times, and successfully combats the opinion too widely entertained of the superiority of the former, adducing incontrovertible instances proving that the discord, tyranny, and oppression of those days has given way to a practice more humanely considerate to offenders, to whom every possible chance of vindication is allowed ; more in accordance with the benevolent feel ings of the age, and, though apart from all vindictiveness, more sure and effectual in the punishment of delinquents, while at the same time the majesty of the law is main tained with adequate firmness, and the people are led to respect it from its justice and certainty, rather than to fear it from it s ex t reme sever i ty. H e f urn i s h es a succ i nct view of the principal state prosecutions for the last thir teen years, including the cases of O'Connell, Lawless, and others, in 1831,—0f the Canadian convicts brought from Canada in 1838,—the Monmouthshire riots in 1839, —the Chartists in 1812,—and the Rebecca rioters;: and from these it appears that the failures of state prosecu tions have been comparatively few. In noticing the fair ness with which these prosecutions are naw conducted, he forcibly remarks :—" Every consideration is shown, every indulgence is granted to the unfortunate being who is in jeopardy. The crown has no interest to serve be yond that which the state possesses in the vindication of the law, and that cool, deliberate, and impartial adminis tration of justice which has so long dis•inguisherl this country. Nothing is unduly pressed against the prisoner, but every extenuating fact is fairly laid before the jury by the crown ; it is, in short, generosity, candour, and for bearance on the one side, matched against craft, cunning, and the resolution by any means to win, upon the other. Such are the real difficulties that may be often felt by those who conduct a state prosecution ;"—but, he argues, it is better that those difficulties should remain, than that any change should come over the spirit in which these trials are now conducted. The writer furnishes much information on the manner in which law proceedings are conducted in our courts; the pleas a prisoner may put in, the challenging of jurymen, the trial itself before a jury, &c. ; and concludes with some remarks on the present case of O'Connell and others, from which we elsewhere quote a passage.—The " Adventures in Texas " are con cluded in this number, and abound in extraordinary mili tary adventure—" the struggle" ending with the freedom of that country. A classical review of a curious Greek romance follows. The " New Art of Printing "—that is by illustration—is quizzically hit off. The story entitled " The banking House," continued in two former num bers, is concluded in this. It is, we think, rather too long for such a publication, and rather mechanically construct ed, though containing some striking and effective scenes. The finale appears to us to be also rather severely retri butive on the erring but humane hanker, who is killed in a duel—a mode of exit happily becoming unfashionable. This is, however, a matter of taste. " Marston, or Me moirs of a Statesman," is continued w:.th, if possible, increasing interest. It is replete with military and diplo matic adventure during the revolutionary mania in France, and Lafayette and other prominent characters form dra matis personte. The last article, and in our opinion the I best in the number, is on " The position and prospects of the Government," which ably vindicates Sir R. Peel and his ministry from the vague and groundless aspersions thrown upon them, and shows their policy to have been wise and benefic al. From this an extract or two will be found in anther column. The writer, in the course of his remarks. inflicts a sound castigation on the Anti- Corn-Law League. Hood's Magazine. No. I. of this work—an agreeable comic miscellany— (as may be expected from the name,) has reached us. and has afforded us much amusement. There is an a ,, reeable comminglement of prose and verse, and though " the grave" occasionally appears, it serves in contrast hut to set off " the gay" to better advantage. The first piece— " The Haunted House,"--a short metric,' romance, is well conceived and talentedly wr ught up. " For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is haunted!" This is illustrated by a beautiful vignette in the best line of engraving, representing "The Haunted Morse" and the scenery around it. "The Reminiscences of Bayonne" is a graphic and interesting sketch of that locality, and its manners and customs. One of the most amusing pieces in the book is entitled " Great Tom of Oxford." and details some extraordinary adventures of a young stu dent on his first entering the University. " Mrs. Bur rage," a temperance romance is also well told and ex tremely ludicrous. " Life in the Sick Room," (a review) is of a serious curb, and replete with affecting narrative. "A Christmas Carol," in prose, by C. Dickens, is lively and entertaining, exhibiting much of the original humour, as well as of the kindly feeling of the author. " A Prac tical Joke" is droll enough as it proceeds, but beyond a joke in its termination. One of the articles " A Dream by the Fire" is well told, as is a satirical essay entitled "An Irish Rebellion." The poetry is generally too long for quotation, but (referring to an extract in prose from the present number in another column,) we give the fol lowing EPIGRAM ON THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE STATUES IN TRAFALGAR-SQUARE. If Nelson looks down on a couple of Kings, However it pleases the Loyals; 'Tis after the fashion of nautical thing,s A Sky-scraper over the Royals. SELECTIONS. BRITISH HATRED OF AMERICAN INSTI TUTIONS. (From Martin Chuzzlewit.) _ __ _... The Honourable Elijah Pogram glanced at his friends as though he would have said, " Observe this! See what follows!" and they rendered tribute to the Pogram ge nius, by a gentle murmur. " Our fellow -countryman is a model of a man, quite fresh from Natur's mould !" said Pogram, with enthu siasm. He is a true-born child of this free hemisphere ! Verdant as is the mountains of our country ' • bright and flowing as are our m i nera l Licks ; un s pil e d by withering conventionalities as air our broad and boundless Perearers! Rough he may be. So air our Barra. Wild he may be. So air our Buffalers. But he is a child of Natur', and a child of Freedom ; and his boastful answer to the Despot and the Tyrant is, that his bright home is in the Settin Sun." Mr. Pogram waited nntil his hearers were calm again before he said to Mark : " You do not seem to coincide, Sir ?" " Why," said Mark, " I did n't like him much, end that's the truth, Sir. I thought he was a bully ; and I did n't admire his carryin' them murderous little per suaders, and being so ready to use 'em." " It's singh-r !' said Pogram, lifting his umbrella high enough to look all round from under it. " It 's strange ! You observe the settled opposition to our institutions which pervades the British mind !" " 'Wuat an extraordinary people you are!" cried Mar tin. " Are Mr. Chollop and the class he represents, an Institution here ? Are pistols with revolving barrels swore-sticks, bowie knives, and such things, Institutions on which you pride yourselves ? Are bloody duels, brutal combats, savage assaults, shootings down and stabbing in the streets, you! Institutions! Whv I shall hear next, that Dishonour and Fraud are among the Institutions of the great republic !" Tile moment these words passed his lips, the Honoura. ble Elijah Pogram looked round again. " This morbid hatred of our Institutions," he observed, "is quite a study for a physchological observer. " He's alludin to Repudiation now !" " Oh ! you may make anything an Institution if you like," said Martin, laughing, " and I confess you had me there, for you certainly have made that, one. But the greater part of these things are one Institution with us, and we call it by the generic name of Old Bailey ?" " What do you think of my countrymen who are pre sent, Sir ?" inquired Elijah Pogram. " Oh! very pleasant," said Martin. They were a very pleasant p lrty. No man had spoken a word ; every one had been intent, as usual, on his own private gorging ; and the greater part of the company were decidedly dirty feeders. The Honourable Elijah Pogram looked at Martin as if he thought, " You don't mean that, I know!" And he was soon confirmed in this opinion. Sitting opposite to them was a gentleman in a high state of tobacco, who wore quite a little beard, composed of the overflowings of that weed, as they had dried about his mouth and chin : so common an ornament that it scarcely attracted Martin's observation : but this good citizen, burning to assert his equality against all comers, sucked his knife for some moments, and made a cut with it at the butter, just as Martin was in the act of taking some. There was a juicyness about the deed that would have sickened a scavenger. When Elijah POgram (to whom this was an every-day incident) saw that Martin put the plate away, and took no butter, he was quite delighted, and said : " Well! The morbid hatred of you British to the In stitutions of our country, is as-ToNishing !" " Upon my life !" cried Martin in his turn, " this is the most w on d er f u l commun i t y th a t ever existed. A man deliberately makes a hog of himself, and that's an Insti tution !" THE REGULAR AND IRREGULAR DRAMA. (From Hood's Magazine.) A writer in the Times lately attributed the decline of the public taste for theatrical exhibitions to the superiority of the dramatic scenes, serious and comic, which are so ad mirably got up and performed daily in the bankruptcy courts, the Old Bailey, Guildhall, Westminster Hall, the police-offices, the courts ot conscience, and other houses, major and minor, in London and the provinces. And there is certainly some truth in the theory ; for the snatches of tragedy, comedy, and farce, furnished by such places, are much more interesting and amusing, and in 'finitely more instructive than the pieces fabricated by most of our modern play-wrights. Some of the judges and counsel show quite as " fiery off" as any stars on the boards, and the jwrors, common or special, are quite as clever and entertaining as the walking gentlemen. The want of music and dancing in the places alluded to, makes them less strong in opera and the ballet, and her Majesty's Theatre, in the Haymarket, prospers accord. ingly, from the absen eof competition. The police offices, however, are powerful rivals to the Adelphi, Surrey, &c., in pieces of strong and sometimes very domestic interest, the plots of which are duly recorded in some of the daily prints ; and melo-drama flourishes at the sessions-house and in the inquest-ro ,, m. Here and there a coroner is also a very respectable performer in the funny line; and constables, beadles, and bumpkin wit nesses are low comedians. How far it might be practicable to retrieve the fortunes of the patent theatres, by allowing a certain portion of the public business to be transacted on the stage, is left for the proprietors to discuss with the lord chamberlain • no thing else, probably, will ever raise the shares of either to a profitable premium —for, who would pay to sit at their fictitious shows, when he might, gratis, see such exhibitions of real life elsewhere, and listen to the genuine dialogue of human nature ? Here is a brief example MISAPP REPIENSTON.—A DRAMATIC SKETCH . . SCENF.—A Club Room at the Hare and Hounds. At the table sits the County Coroner with his Clerk. The Jurors are arranged round the board. The Constable, &c., fill the background. TIMOTHY GUBDINS, a witness, is under examination. Cor.—Did you know the defunct ? Wit.—Who's he? ' Cor.—Why, the dead man. Wit.—Yes. ('or.—lntimately Wit.—Were. Car.—How often have you been lir company with him; Wit.—Ony once. Cor.—And do you call that intimately ? Wit----Yes—for he were wery drunk, and I were wery drunk—and that made us like two brothers. Cor.—Who recognised the body ? Wit.--Jack Adams. Cor.—How did lie recognise him? Wit.—By standing on his head to let the - water run out. Cor.-1 mean how (I'd be know him? Wit.—By his plush jacket. Cor.—Anything else ? Wit.—No : only his face were so swelled', his own mo ther wouldn't have knowed Cor.—Then how did von know him ? Wit.—'Cause I warn't his mother. [Applause in court. Cor.—What do you consider the cause of his death? - wit.—prowntung in eours,,. Con—Was any attempt made to resuscitate-him ? Wit.—Yes. Cor.—How ? Wit.—We sarched his pockets. Cor.—l mean did you try to bring him to ? Wit.—Yes- to the public-house. Cor.—l mean to recover him. Wit.—No. \%e warn't told to. Did yon ever suspect the deceased of mental alienation ? Wit.—Yes—the whole village suspected un. ? Wit.—That he alienated one of the Squire's pigs. Cor.—You misunderstand me. I alluded to mental aberration. Wit.—Some thinks he was. Cor.—On what groond,? Wit.—l believe they beknged to-Squire Waters. Cor.—Pshaw. I mean was he mad ? Wit.—Sartenlv. Cor.—what, devoid of reason ? Wit.—He had no reason to drownd himself as- know of. Cor.—That will do, sir. (To the Jury.) Gentlemen, you have heard the evidence, and will consider of your verdict. Foreman.—Your worship, we are all of one mind. Cor.—Well, what is it ? Foreman.—We don't mind what. We're agreeeble to anything your Worship pleases. Cor.—No, gentlemen—l have no right to dictate—you had better consult together. Foreman.—We have, your Worship, afore we came, and were all unanimous. , Cor.—l am happy to hear it, gentlemen. (To the Clerk.) Mr. Dicks, take down the verdict. Now then, gentlemen. Foreman.—Why, then, your. Worship, it's " Justifiable Suicide ;"—but begs to recommend to mercy ;—and hopes we shall be allowed our expenses. HEADACIIK.—Food taken into the stomach of a person of weak digestion immediately before retiring to rest, lodges there during the greater part of the night very little altered ; thus acting as an irri - ant for so many hours on an onan already too sen-itive, can we wonder that the pa tient should awake in the morning with a headache? But it frequently happens that the change the food has under gone during sleep, is not merely imperfect i❑ kind, but unwholesome likewise in its nature, and the crudity gene rated ny the morbid process usually abounds with acidity. —Dr. flume Wreatherhead on Diet. UNLUCKY DAYS.—Thou beginnest in the morning, for instance, by putting thy shirt on wrong side out, and this gives a kind of direction to the events of the day. Thou cuttest thyself when thou art shaving, thou guest out to seek people whom thou dust not find, arid thou art found by people whom thou dust not seek, arid whom thou couldst wish at Jericho ; thou sayest what is dull when thou wish est to be witty ; thy dinner is bad_; e-ery thing goes in conceivably wrong; and if thou takest it into thy head to make an offer to a lady, such a day thou mayst be certlin of getting a refusel, for thou art on the wrong side of thy luck. What the President had turned wrong side out is his toilet, on a certain Thursday, in a certain week, in a certain month, I will not take upon me to guess ; but certain it was that an ungentle fate followed him all through the day, and every member of the family was made more or less conscious of it.—From Mary Howitt's new work, " The President's Daughter." DR. MAGINN'S CONVERSATIONAL POWERS.—I sat, on last Friday, two hours with Dr. Maginn in his bed room. The doctor has been raking, I believe, since his family went to France ; he was quite ill when I saw him. However, he managed to write a leader for the Argus newspaper in his shirt, and that completed, he jumped into bed, and we had a long talk. The more 1 see of him, the more I admire his talent. He is really a splen did fellow. He knows everything. He will teach you as much in one hour as the best book will in ten. His conversation is the most extraordinary thing possible. He jumbles together fun, philosophy, and polemics; and in these (so incongruous) he is pre-eminent. At first you would say, that he spent all his life reading jest books ; but then there is such admirable philosophy and, common sense in his reflections, that you get rid of your first notion as quickly as possible. But just as you are on the point of averring that this man reads nothing but works of thought and reasoning, yoi are forced to gulp down the exclamation, for he jumps into theology, and will argue on it like a bishop. Then you declare that he has studied nothing but polemics all his life. Such a man is Maginn. He is a ruin, but a glorious ruin neverthe less. He takes no care of himself. Could he be induced to do so, he would be the first man of the day in litera ture, or anything else. But he lives a rollicking life; and will write you one of his ablest articles while standing in his shirt, or sipping brandy, so naturally do the best and wittiest thoughts flow from his pen. His reading is ins_ rnense ; his memory powerful; and his knowledge of the world is perhaps equal to that of any man that ever !med. In fact, I say he knows everythite . and so he does. We talked about a war with France, about which all the John and Jenny Bulls are getting ai , xions. The doctor assert ed stoutly that there would be none, arid quoted Lord Brougham, who said, in allp-ion to the national d. bi, that En: l unt was br , r.nd in eiat hut.dted millions to keep the peace,—Dublin 41,agaz ne. FRUITERERS' SHOPS AT CHRISTMAS. -- Fruiterers were radient in their glory. There were great, round, pot bellied baskets of chestmrs, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spauish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish Friars ; and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung up Miseltoe. There were pears and apples clustered high in blooming pyramids ; there were bunches of grapes made, in the shopkeepers benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks. that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed ; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragance, ancient walks among the woods, and pleasant shuffiings ankle deep through withered leaves ; there were Norfolk biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten after dinner.—Dickens's Christmas Carol. THE NATIVITY.—Perhaps there is not one spot on the face of the globe that is more deeply interesting to Chris tians than the village of Bethlehem. It extends east and west, standing on a hill six miles from the city of Jeru salem, and in which the most remarkable events had oc curred, according to those minute descriptions given in the Record of Inspiration; but, above all, none more striking than it being the place giving birth to the infant Jesus, who was the Prophet of the Highest, and came forth to give light to those who sit in darkness. There is one large monastery of Franciscan monks, on a command ing height, looking down on a charming valley, which calls to mind that ever memorable moment when shepherds who were there watching their flocks, heard the heavenly choir, and saw the star with unbounded joy, which had led the Magi, or wise men of the East, to the place of the nativity. In the magnificent church within this monas tery is a chapel under ground, finely ornamented, where fifty massive lamps of silver are suspended, and kept con stantly burning. Here is pointed out, in the form of a star in marble, the place, where h e came forth, who was declared to be Wonderful, the Mighty Counseller, the Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace.—Rae Wilson, on Judea. THE IRISH STATE PROSECUTION OF O'CONNELL.— Whatever be the result of that prosecution, whether those indicted be found gudty or acquitted of the misdemeanours laid to their charge, we feel assured, on the one hand, however long and grievous may have been the " provoca tion," that while there will be " nothing extenuate," nei ther will there be " set down aught in malice ;" but that the measure of the retribution now demanded by the state, will be so temperately and equitably adjusted, that while the very semblance of oppression is carefully avoided, the majesty of the law, and the powers of the executive, will be amply and entirely vindicated. On the other hand, if Mr. O'Connell and his companions, in guilt or misfor tune, should break through the cobwebs of the law, and hurl a retrospective defiance at the government, we feel the utmost confidence, that the learning, foresight, and ability, of the eminent lawyers who represent the crown, together with the firmness and integrity of the Irish bench, "sans peur et sane reproche," will demonstrate to the millions who look on, that the constitutional powers of the state still remain uninjured and unimpaired in all their pristine and legitimate energy and vigour ; and that neither in the machinery now set in motion, nor with those who conduct or superintend its action, but with others on whom, in course of these proceedings, will be thrown the execution of a grave and all-important duty, must rest the real blame, if blame there be, of the failure of this " State Prosecution."—" State Prosecutions," in Blackwood's Magazine. AN OLD-FASHIONED ENGLISH TAVERN.—Being set ashore, with very little money in their pockets, and no de finite plan of operation in their heads, they sought out a cheap tavern, where they regaled upon a smoking steak, and certain flowing mugs of beer, as only men just landed from the sea can revel in the generous dainties of the earth. When they had feasted, as two grateful-tempered giants might have done, they stirred the fire, drew back the glowing curtain from the window, and making each a sofa for himself, by union of the great unwieldy chairs, gazed blissfully into the street. Even the street was made a fairy street, by being half hidden in an atmosphere of steak, and strong, stout, stand-up English beer. For on the window-glass hang such a mist, that Mr. Tapley was obliged to rise and wipe it with his handkerchief, before the passengers appeared like common mortals. And even then, a spiral little cloud went curling up from their two glasses of hot grog, which nearly hid them from each other. It was one of those unaccountable little rooms which are never seen anywhere but in a tavern, and are supposed to have got into taverns by reason of the facili ties afforded to the architect for getting drunk while en gaged in their construction It had more corners in it than the brain of an obstinate man ; was full of mad clo sets, into- which nothing could be put that was not spe cially invented and made for that purpose; had myste rious shelvings and bulk-heads,, and indications of stair cases in the ceiling ; and was elaborately provided with a bell that rung in the room itself, about two feet from the handle, and had no connection whatever with any other part of the establishment. It was a little below the pave ment, and abutted close upon it ; so that passengers grated against the window-panes with their buttons, and scraped it with their baskets ; and fearful boys suddenly coming between a guest and the light, derided him, or put out their tongues as if he were a physician ; or made white knobs on the end of their noses by flattening the same against the glass, and vanished awfully like spectres. Marlin Chuzziewil. THEM EASURES OF GOVERNITENT.—Under the joint operation of the three great measures of the government —the income-tam,-the new tariff,. and the new' corn-law, onr domestic affairs exhibit, at this moment, such an as pect' of steadily returning prosperity, as not the-most san guine person living could have imagined possible two years ago. For the first time after a miserable interval, we be hold'our revenue exceeding our expenditure ; while every one feels satisfied of the fact, that our finances are now placed upon a sound and solid basis,. and daily improving. Provisions are of unexampled cheapness, and the means of obtaining them are—thank Almighty God !—gradually increasing among the poorer classes. Trade and commerce are now, and have for the last six months been:steadily improving ; and we perceive that a new era of prosperity is uni be te g d in g n ow ing rn t dawn m o e nt,n evidently upon a u s s . firmly%Ve havef ixed a i a s t t r h o e n g and confi dence of the Queen as in that of the country, and sup ported by a powerful rnajority in the House of Commons —an annihilating one in the House of Lords. The reign of order and tranquillity has been restored in Wales, and let us also add, in Ireland, after an unexampled display of mingled determination and forbearance on the part of the government. Chartism is defunct, notwithstanding the efforts made by its dishonoured and discomfited leaders to revive it. When, in short, has Great Britain enjoyed a state of more complete internal c:lm and repose than that which at present exists, notwithstanding the systematic attempts made to, diffuse alarm and agitation ? Do the public funds exhibit the slightest symptoms of uneasiness o of a r c e tt x i li e rai i n t ypi e gnir m merdeta e oli: n savaet t nemtr ? dsi e:ctesa O cvli emennnrthe government, contrary, there hasev e r been since scarceth e accession an y va riation letywh respectively e i o e sn n ap. ner t cdt h th e ifv, oodeflsy England,t e u av r te b n a t hnecie quitting height.r i and n t 11 E e Nn m vg aal Her Wales, a d — Mad h aj e e r isnt ministers enjoy their usual intervals of relaxation and absence from town—all the movements of government go on like clockwork—no symptoms visible any where of feverish uneasiness. But what say you, inquires a timid friend, or a bitter opponent, to the repeal agitation in Ire land, and the anti-corn-law agitation in England? Why, we say this—that we sincerely regret the mischief which the one has done, and is doing, in Ireland, and the other in England, among their ignorant and unthinking dupes ; but with no degree of alarm for the stability of the go vernment. or the maintenance of public tranquillity and order. Ministers are perfectly competent to deal with both the one and the other of these two conspiracies, as the chief actors in the one have found already, and those in the other will find, perhaps, by and by ;, if, indeed, they should ever become important or successful enough to challenge the notice and interference of the government. —" Position and Prospects of the Government," in Blackw3od's Magazine. THE. HYPOCRISY OF THE LEAGUE TOWARDS. TAE FARALERS.—" We can never carry the measure ourselves we must have the agricultural labourers with us ! !" They therefore proceeded to commence operations upon the agricultural constituencies. They knew they could always reckon upon a share of support wherever they we nt—it being hard to find any country without its cluster of bitter and reckless opponents of a conservative govern ment, who would willingly aid in any demonstration against it. With such aid, and indefatigable efforts to collect a crowd of noisy non-electors: with a judicious choice of localities, and profuse bribery of the local radical newspapers, in order to procure copious accounts of thei. proceedings—they commenced their " grand series of country triumphs !" Their own organs, from time to time, gave out that in each and every county visited by the League, the farmers attended their meetings, and joined in a vote condemnatory of the .porn-laws, and pledged themselves to vote thereafter for none but the candidates of the Anti-corn-law League The following are specimens of the flattering appellations which had tilt now t een bestowed, upon their new friends, upon these selfsame farmers :—" Bull-frogs !" " thaw-bacons !" " clodpoles 1" " hair-bucks!" " deluded slaves!" " brute drudges !" Now, however, they and their labourers were addressed in terms of respectful sympathy and flattery, as the victims of the rapacity of the landlords—on whom were poured the full phials of anti-corn-law wrath. The following are some of the scalding drops let fall upon their devoted heads :—" Monster of impiety !" " inhuman fiend !" heartless brutes !" " rapacious harpies !" " re lentless demons!" "plunderers of the people !" "mer ciless footpads !" " murderers!" " swindlers !" " insa tiable !" " insolent !" "flesh-mongering !" " scoundrel l" " law-making landlords !" " a bread-taxing oligarchy !" Need we say that the authors of these very choice and elegant expressions were treated with utter contempt by both landlords and tenants—always making the few allow ances above referred to ? Was it very likely that the landlord or the farmer should quit their honourable and important avocations at the bidding of such creatures as had thus intruded themselves into their counties ? should consent to be yoked to the car, or to follow in the train of these enlightened, disinterested, and philanthropic cotton spinners and calico-printers ? Absurd ! It became, i n tact, daily more obvious to even the most unreflecting, that these worthies were not likely to be engaged in their " labours of love ;" were not exactly the kind of persons to desert their own businesses, to attend out of pure be nevolence that of others—to let succumb their own in terests to promote those of others ; to subscribe out of the gains which they had wrung from their unhapoYufac tory slaves thei r £lO. £2O, £3O t . , £5O, not " mereP o f the spirit and philanthropy.—" Positionand Prosp ects 00 17 ; g m o er: d t i tob n e ß e l h a i c ld k t u e , o n l or , o'smAVeltaina,a,zsii o n u e. nn than at Christmas, when its Mig ht y himself.—Dickens. Founder e r n e w v a e s r c e l t o le ORIGIN OF FRASER'S MAGAZINE.—In 1830, Fraser's Magazine was established •, and with the foundation and chief management of that brilliant periodical, Maginn was most intimately connected. Some disagreement with Blackwood, we believe, led to the birth of this new and powerful rival, which soon attained a circulation the most extensive and respectable of any of the London-published periodicals. The first three or four numbers were almost entirely written by the doctor and his friend Mr. Hugh Fraser, one of those clever, well-bred men of w it an d honour about town, w h om London produces in greater perfection and greater numbers than any other metropolis in the world. The articles being completed, they both sallied forth with the manuscript in their pockets, and prcceeded down Regent-street, in search of a publisher. Passing No. 115, the doctor said, " Fraser ! here is a namesake of yours—let us try him." They entered the shop—some bright star of fortune that presided over Mr. James Fraser, then conducting them. The terms were arranged, and thus was laid the basis of Fraser's Maga zine. Many persons thought it was so called after the publisher. This was a mistake. Mr. James Fraser, so far from taking pride in the journal which bore his name, never permitted any one in his establishment to call it Fraser's Magazine. In his books and correspondence, which we have seen, we find it always called " The Town and Country," and it was after Mr. Hugh Fraser the magazine Magazine.wasdesignated by the title by which it i s k nown. —Dublin THE QUEEN'S RESPECT FOR THE SUNDAY. — Although not connected with this portion of her majesty's life, there is another incident which proves the high moral and religious influences exercised over the mind and heart of the Princess Victoria during her earlier years, and which now lead her to conduct herself in every way worthy of her rank and elevation. The fact I am about to record demonstrates the devout respect she was always taught to feel for the sacredness of the Christian Sabbath. Indeed, her religious education was invariably made a matter of the deepest and primary importance, and the lessons given at the period of her life we are now considering, have brought forth the most satisfactory results in after days. The incident to which 1 refer is the following ;—A certain noble lord arrived at Windsor one Saturday night at a late hour. On being introduced to the Queen, he said, " I have brought down for your majesty's inspec tion some documents of great importance, but as 1 shall be obliged to trouble you to examine them in detail, I will not eneroach.on the time of your majesty to-night, but will request your attention to-morrow morning." " To morrow morning!" repeated the Queen, " to-morrow is Sunday, my lord." " True, your majesty, but business of the state will not admit of delay." " I am aware of that," replied the Queen ; and as, of course, your lord ship could not have arrived earlier at the palace to-night, I will, if those papers are of such pressing importance, at tend to their contents after church to-morrow morning." So to church went the Queen and the court, and to church went the noble lord, when, much tc his surprise, the sub ject of the discourse was on the duties of the Christian Sabbath. " How did your lordship like the sermon?" asked the Queen. "Very much, indeed, your majesty," replied the nobleman. Well, then," retorted her aia jesty, " 1 will not conceal from you that, last night, I sent the clergyman the text from which he preached. I hope we shall all be improved by the sermon." The Sunday passed without a single word being said relative to the pa pers; and, at night, when her majesty was about to with draw, "To-morrow morning, my lord, at any hour you please," said the Queen, turning to the nobleman,—" as early as seven, my lord, if you like, we will look into the papers. The nobleman said, " That he could not think of intruding on her majesty at so early an hour ' - he thought nine o'clock would be quite soon enough. "No —no, my lord," replied the Queen, " as the papers are of import ance, I wish them to be attended to very early. However, it you wish it to be nine, be it so;" and, accordingly, the nex; morning at nine, her majesty was seated, ready to receive the nobleman and his papers.—Fraser's 'Magazine. INORDINATE EXPECTATIONS PROM THE PRESENT MINISTRY.—Can the Conservatives be expected in TWO years' time to repair all the evils resulting from a TEN years' gross mismanagement of the national affairs by their predecessors ? " The evil that they did, lives after them. But for the fortunate strength of the Conserve r tive party, moreover, in opposition, and the patriotism and wisdom of the House of Lords, the late ministers would, by the time of their expulsion from office, have rendered the condition of the country utterly desperate—for very nearly desperate it assuredly was. Their vacillating, in consistent, wild, and extravagant conduct during these ten years, had generated an universal sense of insecurity and want of confidence among all the great interests of the country, which locked up capital—palsied enterprise. ,Trade and commerce drooped daily, and the revenue melted away rapidly every year. Great things were justly expected from the practical skill and experience possessed by the new government ; but time is requisite for the de , velopment et a policy which had, and , still has, to contend against such numerous and formidable obstacles. Confi dence, especially mercantile confidence, is a delicate flower,. of slow growth, and very difficult to rear. A breath may blight it. It will bloom only in a tranquil and temperate air. If ever there was a man entitled to speak, however, with authority upon this subject, it was Mr. Ba ring, the late candidate, and unquestionably the future member, for the city of London—a man coustan ly en gaged in vast mercantile transactions in all parts of the globe, and whose ability equals his experience. In the presence of a great number of gentlemen, representing two-thirds of the wealth and intelligence of the city of London,. thte spoke Mr. Baring, on the 6th October, l843::—" I rejoice that Sir Robert Peel did not hold out to the country the fallacious hope, that, by any particular measure, he could restore prosperity, or cute sufferings which were beyond the reach of legislation,. and that he patiently relied upon the resources and energies of the country to set trade and commerce right. That expecta tion is already beginning to be realized. That calm re liance is already justiied. lam speaking in the presence of those who are as much as, if not more conversant with business than myself e and they will contradict me if I am not rigiit when I say, that great symptoms of improvement in the trade and industry of the country have manifested themselves ; which symptoms are of such a nature, that they do not appear to be the result of momentary excite ment produced by some fallacious experiment e but of the paramount re-establishment of commerce, and of a fresh era in the prosperity of the empire. I am asked what have the government done ? Why,' they have restored CONFIDENCE to the country ! They have terminated wars, they have restored confidence at home. and com manded respect abroad."—" Position and Prospects of the Gouernment," in Blackwood's Magazine. A BALL ON CrirtismaAs EVE.—Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock, which pointed at the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands, adjusted his capacious waistcoat; laughed all over himself, from his shoes to his organ of benevolence; and called out in a be life m for ps eve: were rn trimmed,, ; m floor fiddler comfortable, oily, rich,. f a t, j ov i a l vo i ce —" Y o ho, toy e a boys!" said Fezziwig. "N o more wor k to-n i ght Christmas eve, Dick. Christ mas , Eb enezer ! Let ' s have the shutters up," cried old F ezz i w i g , w i t h a sharp clap of his hands, " before a man can say Jack Robin son." You wouldn't believe how these two fellows went at it They charged into the street with he shutters — one, two, three—had 'ern up in their places—four, five, six—barred 'eni and pinned 'ern—seven, eight, nine—and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses. " " cried old FeAbiwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. " Clear away, my lads,, and let 's have lots of room here! Elilli-ho, Dick ! Chirrup, Eben e z e r ! Clear away ! There is nothing they would n 't h ave c l eare d away , or couldn't have cleared away. with old Fezzi w i g l oo ki ng on . It was done in a minute. Ev er y movea bl e was pecked o ff flasitt. wasthe it were swept ere and dismissed frompublic t watered,fuel was heaped upon the fire ; and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and dry, and bright a ball-room as you would with desire amusic -book, rnu si-b tose c euopok,and upon a went winters o p to n iget.. the In r e lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it , and tuned like fiery stomach aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming an d I loveable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women em ployed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin, the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's particular friend, the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not having board enough from his master; trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door but one, who was proved to have , bad her ears pulled by her mistress. In they all came, one after another; some sly, some boldly, some grace fully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple at once, hands half round and back again the other way ; down the middle and up again ; round and round in various stages of affectionate group ing ; old top couple always turning up in the wrong place ; new top couple starting off again as soon as they got there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them. When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, " Well done !" and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest upon his re-appearance, be instantly began again, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home exhausted, on a shutter, , and he were a bran-ne,v man resolved to beat him out of sight, or perish. There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of cold roast, and there was a great piece of cold boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great effect of , the evening came after the roast and boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog, mind! The sort of man who knew his business better than yon or I could have told it him !) struck up " Sir Roger de Coverley." Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them ; three t o to r four and twenty pair of partners; people who and Mrs. be trifled with ; people who would dance, no tion of walking. But if they bad be . e a n ve twi been a match ah, four times ; old Fezziwig evelPd h m ill e higher, and I'll use it. for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. every sense As ; n:l a o t d f weoh v e t aa a h rdhs n e e e c nrnrn e to:ae and he was worthy to be his partner to issue from Fezziwig's calves yourarp,darNtniersr.; Fezziwigbo m. They shone in every part A D' p th o a s t iti ' v s e n l o ig t h h t ig a h po p e r a a r is e e d , . You couldn't have predict , d at whenany th e g dance o h i , d e nFlei time,Fezziwig w rl3 g o w o h n a s And oof become of 'elm next with his legs, and came upon his feet again with b a d gone all through the dance and courtesy • rew ; thread-the ; needle, and back again to your ' place ; Fezziwig • cut ' —cut so deftly, that he appeared out a stagger. When the clock struck eleven,this - do mestic ball broke up. M r. treFoeoetrzi winkwe, stations, one on either side the door, and shaking hands took their with every person individually wished him or her a as h e or she went out, merry Christmas. When everybody had ref red but the ' higold hands with two prentices they did the same to them ; and thus the cheerful • voices died away, and the l -ids were left to their beds ; which were under a counter in the back shop.—Dickens's Christmas Carol. THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. Jan. 9, 1R44. Jan. LONG HOURS IN MILLINERY ESTAB LISHMENTS. The damp hair and pallid features of our young milli ners and dressmakers might have told us long ago—et least, during the season of long and almost sleepless hours—that they were taxed beyond their strength ; and we were often very sorry, very sorry indeed, for thew. We said they sat up too late, and perhaps rose too early'. We observed to "Madame," with overflowing human ity, that the work-room (we peeped into it through the glass doors) seemed ill ventilated ; and we frequently perhaps inquired after one "young person" or another, whose grace and loveliness had created an interest in her favour. We heard she was gone home, or gone to the country. She was, however, forgotten after one or tyro more visits to the beautiful " show-rooms ;" for other girls, as gentle and as pleasing, and more fresh, had taken the places of our favourites, and so we came away, only insisting that our order, given on Tuesday afternoon; should be completed by Wednesday evening. " M a d am e' shrugged and remonstrated a little—just a very little. She said they were very busy—had never been so busy —were up all night, and had been so for the last sis weeks—that "everybody" wanted their dresses in such haste; and if "every body" wanted their dresses in such haste, why should not we have our order executed to the time ? We repeated our instructions in a tone which convinced " Madame" that if she failed she might lose our custom ; and, of course, that being th e a lt erna ti ve , she had only t o cur t sey and promise. The consequence of this want of consideration was another sleepless night to the worn-out girls with whom we had sympathised; and yet, if this truth did occur to us, we consoled our selves with the idea "that our dress, our single dress, could not make much difference." We could have ordered it two or three days before, but the weather was too hot or too cold to get out, or we were .detained by visitors—or—or, at all events, whether we ordered the tress or not could m ake but little difference ; and dress makers are so unpunctual that we were obliged to say we wanted it a day sooner than we really did. How very, very angry we would be if told that, in saying we required it one day, when really we did not want it till another, we had been guilty of Jalsehood! And how our hearts would have rebelled if accused of cruelty. If any one had told us that we were guilty of cruelty towards those young girls whom we would have drawn wide our purse-strings to assist, whom we would have given to eat of our bread and drink of our cup—if it had been told us that so doing would serve them, how indignant we should have felt ! though perhaps at the same moment the brocade was trembling in their damp and slender fingers, and they could hardly open their wearied and aching eyes ; and, but for the haste our thoughtlessness had in sisted on, they would have enjoyed a few hours of the refeshing sleep which, if we lack but for a single night, our temples throb and our pulses quicken, and we corn pain of the long midnight hours, lacking res t. O ur thoughtlessness (to call it by no harsher name) occa soned a practical cruelty to a fellow-creature. We did not intend this ; but we cause a great deal which we do not intend. A little consideration will prove that we are great gainers by looking things steadily in the face— looking beyond the present into the future, which (so rapid is the flight of time) becomes the present while we are talking. The poor dressmakers have, however, found many to advocate their cause, but the grand re dresser of evils is the public. The modiste of established reputation will always find young persons, driven by necessity to the sacrifice, to work during the long hours, to the destruction of health, both of body and mind, if ladies do not give sufficient time for the completion of their orders. This is the great point; and it is mar vellous, when come to be seriously thought upon, that one female will endanger the health of another by a simple want of consideration. —Mrs. S. C'. Hall, in Ainsworth's Magazine. A NEW MODE OF DIVORCEMENT.—Two country gen tlemen hit the other day upon an expedient for dissolving the Gordian knot, which we believe proved satisfactory to all parties, but whether it was an original idea, or has been imported from the land of Brother Jonathan. we know not. Certainly it is knew to us, and will probably be so to our leaders. A couple rendered miserable by their domestic jars applied to the two gentlemen in ques tion to be "parted." After anxiously endeavouring to remove the acids and restore the sweets between them, and, after explaining that death only could part them, the worthy gentleman put the anxious pair to this ordeal. A cat was procured, and a cord tied round its neck with noose. The husband was desired to hold one end of the cord and the wife the other, and both to pull with their might if they still wished to be put asunder, either party being, however, thei r p a r t ol l i e b tn e h r e t ir y re s t fo o oir r um e t l ie e or n n t lop b vr y oe v, r e e ad f r n a ds i t n rb i o r o n g gh t e o rp u p lul thanel Id. the H remembrance e'er, away until poor puss was strangled, and " death having thus " parted them,"' they were declared man and wife no longer, and went their way rejoicing. We fear we should overwhelm the gentlemen who presided over this ordeal with business if we were to give a particular indica tion of their whereabouts : we deem it only necessary to say, that the circumstances we have narrated occurred in the county of Lancashire.—Bla kburn Standard. DEATH OF A VENERABLE CHARACTER.—Died on Saturday night, the 31st ult., at an advanced age, an extraordinary and venerable character,—altho' severely visited on her first attack with cold, she expired as peace fully and mildly as a lamb.. She had certainly for some time been , diseased, and a variety of sympf ons had be trayed a constitution fast breaking up. Once- came the Scotch fiddle, and this was followed by an inflamation that seemed to spring from her Welsh flannel petticoat, and her illness was much aggravated by repeatedly dining off Irish stew, a dish strongly recommended to her by a physician who had too much of her confidence, one Dr. O'Connell, and by whose advice she strongly and foolishly E hr e e c w iesia" recommended it to her youthful su ccessor. —O n t h e w h o l e , however, she rallied frequently during h er lif e t o - a d egre e t that i:a! seemed matters fondwas orc c h a u p T r c ic h i , o s u ie s t iri t her self into a fever more than once, upon smaller matterS that must - have been nuts to dissenters ; such as black gown and white gown, crossing or no crossing, standing up and bowing down : and took delight in setting big Whigs and Bishops by the ears. She had, however, a good memory and some understanding, and recollecting somewhat of the fires of Smithfield (by the way she was rather fond of incendiarism herself) and the virtuous and respectable Queen Mary long before she died, sent Popery and his first cousin to the right about, the latter of whom was very anxious to gain her hand. Peace to her Manes! in the the spring of her youth she was lively, joyous, and free; in her summer, cheerful and liberal; in her autumn, sober and serene; and even the white locks of her wintry age were more like silver than snow. Be her pleasantries and worth long remembered, her sins and her sorrows forgot ; and may no worse at least be said of her posterity than of her dear old sepulchral ac quaintance, dear, long, accustomed, ancient friend, eighteen hundred and forty three.—Philo.—Jan. 1, 1844. THE. OLD MAN AND MS Ass.—An old man named Edward: Birkett, residing in Skerton, Lancaster, where he carries on an extensive trade in the crockery and mussel ling line, appeared lately at the judges'l , dging to answer to a charge preferred against hill of having broken into the pound at Skerton, and released his ass, where his Neddychip had been lodged for having been found tres pa-sing where he had no right to be. James Lancaster, the keeper of the pound, proved the offe,:ce, and showed that,. by a recent act of parliament, the defendant had subjected himself to a penalty not exceeding .C 5. On the defendant, who, it is said, in early life belonged to a corn pany of strolling players, being called upon for his defence, he threw himself into a theatrical attitude, and delivered hiin. self after the following manner : " My lords, mine ass is that by which I live. Take him away, and shut him in a pound, Rohs ms of many pounds. 'Tis through his aid, That, from the tide-left sand and pebbly skein, I loads of cockles and of mussels take Whereby I to my neighbours do supply A dainty feast—and that at small expense; And, in return. I with their trifling coin Do buy that which cloth feed my inward man. . ass, my lords, is thus part of myself— If I to him illegal freedom gave, I pray your mercy and your quittance clear— For I am old, and miserably poor— And then, my lords, whene'er mine ass i drive, You will be present to my grateful mind." Notwithstanding this powerful and very affectingly-deli vered appeal, the defendant was fined lOs. and costs, or, in default, sentenced to be imprisoned and kept to hard labour for one calendar month— Ten shillings !—ten farthings he them could not pay, So to prison the constables took him away ; And when going, he said, " Hird is the lacking of pelf, For un•pounding my ass, I've im-pounded myself." DEATH OF A ONCE CELEBRATED CHARACTER."-. An individual died in Edinburgh a short time since, who obtained an unenviable celebrity more than twenty years ago. This was the Bishop of Clogher, who was i ra iLted for crime, in 1822, forfeited bail, and fled, was degraded u f o r n o l ad m t sei glrl h otn i wh s .e.w e c a. c sii l s e uiti s sm i a eem s dtkiocendala,eltradoehu o i f g o n f i s t ly, livingw and a s has never been beard of e at No. 4, S a li s b ury - p l ac e r h i o n m g a p s r W ev i i l o s u o s n ly , to re w si t d ii e e d h he rem oved four years ago ha'v extremely private, scarcely any visitors being known to enter his dwelling, but it was remarked that the post occasionly brought hill/ letters sealed with coronets. His incognito was wonder , fu after dt l e l u y ra preserved hhe: Te l i t hg eh w ba a op s up o rl li n lco l a y ot ido k , nnwofhoworni kept rt o m n t e ehne o t r ws t e w acs o r em i t n a d tdi i i 16 .• in the name of Thomas Wilson. There was a plate upon the coffin, which he had got prepared a number of year% before, but without any name upon it. It bore a Latin inscription, the sense of which was as follows :—" Here lie the remains of a great sinner saved by grace, whose hope rests in the atoni ng sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ." The preparation of this inscription Years before shows that he was deeply penitent. He was very anxious to conceal his true name, having got it carefully obliter' ate(' from his books and articles of furniture. He gave instructions that his burial should be in the nearest church yard, that it should be co"ducted in the most private 50 ,1 plain manner, and at six in the morning. His directions were complied with except in the selection of the ground' His body was drawn to the cemetery in a hearse with one horse, followed by five mourners in a one-horse coach, at seven in the morning. Such was the obscure and humble death and funeral of the Honourable and Reverend Percf, Jocelyn, the son of a Peer, who spent the early years of his life in the society of the great, and held one or the highest ecclesiastical dignities in the empire. He WO uncle to the present Lord Roden.—Scolornan, n i s l a T a ur i nn u m , ip dd e ip mo at o s A n i g a e o y c s un t w t r o E h p e c : 4 ' and at high the unexpec business h a sincerely In encour age Liverpool, t that some' c, a consideral 'Was rarely 1 )10 Y, to pay Pr eparat i nn! not go too 1 may fairly a many buyer they are un Come down prices." 2; and 72 , 3 , 6 s. and 72's, 6s 66's, g s. Pd. turday, the but on Tues larly in the the warehot to both me: their stocks BRADFOR Th erChalltB tinfavourab Nir 1s done it the manufai the late adv Of profit if 1 stand on 1 band genera realising be ther improv bensive of i they refuse( dates. A g but althoug S t fly for hi ised. RUDDER! terldallCe of Previous VI freely at p out for imp to much bu been the ca In the time; HA LIFAX attendance at this marl Were very to be only t are now c ago. IlEcinrr] a tolerable foreign tra On Thursc extreme. Rocnimketi to.day, acted ha, b lioszxav State, that branch, an two years, of a revive trade still than the al four fifths hose branc in the mail the wrong pretty well tion s whicl Journal. LIVE! In-patient Relieved a Made Out- Irregular Dead Consu P REM ..........._----.- Bolton a Binningl oirrhDitihto o Ditto c Bristol al Birkenlie Ditt o h Dit to Dublin ' al Eastern I kdinburf Ditto Ditto Glasgcrw, Dit Grand Ju Ditto h Quarte New di Great W( Ditto ni Ditto F: Great No Hull and Ditto 0 Liv er Pool Ditto Ditto Lancaster Ditto London a Ditt o Ditto . Lond on Ditto LOtidon 111 Ditl •l aneliest Ditto at Ditto hi Ditto qu Midland C Ditto, q 1-sth St North Mk Ditto ne Ditto ,e s. North Uni Newcastle Ditto qu Newcastle .o rwich Rouen ani S heffield a ' o llth E a , 1, New s ° lir and Ralf taxis a n taxis and ea and ank 1:41.17- o s Ci i ASSU Soe NM:lNER t fofo° e a L ve ive ib liR, L r se er Pool a n 'i'V erDool Comp t xo. MI 1 . , flang e Pool an Wot ootle Dit Q D O oI G; Oitto fp ul Ne ne An e j ct ris and stetttoeZni4rr APoth ec ' 4sPhaltat LONDOI