The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-02-10 00:00:00

HAPPY What pot. —The Aui- JAMES GRA YET, nay lour, iwer ;ht sway —Minn Own ars have passed wed to thine, all shine rds, that find In combined y rise ears they set, &RIETIES ssia, ne rotten of all ? D'ye give it ur an who was unable to sur- he French grammar, that, like id been stopped by the elements. ICAL ARCHITECTURE. an alligator's tail strik ver was such a thing ! NEW ORDER OF ECCLESIA ie spire of Grace Church is 1 g up a New York Trib smorr.—While they yes into office, Sir Robt. constant drag upon the sent. Their motto was, s. You gave us the Re id a final measure we are " Pind no more changes did and to institutions which less intimately connected istocracy than the present ive been. Now let us not tion of the tenant-at-will as accomplished with the of the whole party. It seemed to against the ten-pounders; inties, however weak they ,ut did any of the followers id 1834 look the length of not; otherwise they would a measure as the New letely alienated the labour ive them, converting into Bed to be the humble bat ;racy. Surely not ; other uld have consented to the suppression cks in Ireland, thus weakening the influ tantism in the very portion of the empire Where it stood most in need of support, and encouraging arch of which they professed e things, however, they gave I them that it was wise to do the affections of the poor by s, and alarmed and offended e with which they looked on ierents, the popish hierarchy, over the Irish branch of the oner was a proposal made to 'rfere with the game-laws, or of the empire, or promote an than to a man they denounced istice, they were marvellously ty and the privileges of the accepted a Tithe Commute ?,), said, and perhaps believed Ild be as advantageous to the lemen. But they would not plan of national education. form, the term was never used, ex id then it was hooted down Thus in every ques- THE steadily r Peel and :RVATIN to forc iariot-wt Let us t up, beca so. Tht nterpois In the c the cle while O'Connell and his adi achieved s of Lord M is to church vaguely by tl triumf But no Efteraturr. POETRY. WE SHALL BE THE LATE MF Whilst rainbow visi That may the deer tar not ! I take a pi What though 1. ye eau neither wane nor set Bich ay i to thr their c ) of its own accord, and that its adherents ye that it c ed stopping anywhere.— Fraser's Magazine. THE CONSERVATIVES IN POWER.—In 1835, the party ^a its new name so gallantly in opposition, - - , fleet, somewhat prematurely into -• of its chief? A manifesto ition of the church, and the under the crown to devise of the party in both It was a bold state of the times required it; and as .rthing was taken from the church, however widely some portions of church property might be from '-;ch the testators had assigned them, nobody - a strictly conservative measure. was the fi up their caps measur that it v n sat ; extinguished canonries ,• bishops from the dignity of e position of state pensioners ; ueathed by good men in Dur of Durhamites, to the relief of the dwellers in Cornwall ' , wed a prelate from Bangor __:ennes in his hand. What y about then? Did they not bee that nd privileges were weakened by such a 'its and privileges of the church ? • consenting and approving parties ansidered at the time, and still step on that ladder of descent, _.,, as t hey themselves now affirm, _ 6 ,,ing to lead them.—Fraser's Mag. RY OF HAVING TO MAKE AN UNEXPECTED AFTER peakers are usually brought irk of respect, and are there- As they have been deemed ur one pities them. Theirs is They came out to be corn ..mou,ly selected as deserving a the esteem and praises of the whole are consequently put to the torture. a modest man of this class undergoing " all the 1," as per order, from the chair. He was in ex ipirits before you drank his health • he never felt nhis life than when unconscious of your concern im ; he wanted nothing on earth until he found of your good wishes, but now he tips. Observe how they tremu chen he has risen to fulfil the g himself upon the rack. Listen 1 voice yet, but you may hear his ie is a bold, brave fellow, and no - Incapable. He is a dashing nen six times a week clean nt members of Parlia limiest peers in his ink- He can't say " Bo" to dord to throw at the dog that _delis power to express his grate of th horrib dilemma you have placed him in. a i and low ; his command of lan :t t, of the most hacknied and com re an 4ese he used without the at gr, hat confusion and havoc al tke nan's mind! One of the a lick rsons alive, but one of the in put " being obliged, to I c rPg, a ~crates on some Shakspe o i fact, than" the memory of Shako ?as oast he bad to propose, actually in at nfusion intro'tuced the poet as one e v ure must be known to every gentle -1 's fame I There were almost 20 or them must have been authors." of Life, by the late Laman Blanchard. RING-PLACE IN NEW ZEALAND.—On our way Wakarewarewa Hotsprings, by far the finest at bout seven miles from Mr. Chapman's and a from Ohinernutu. Here are to be seen all the Ngawha (hot -springs). They are mud caul k, blue, grey, green, yellow, and red, the very laziness; a faint stream rises from them, and Lnon. a solitary bubble of gas disengages itself ni the surface, which then returns to its usual t o of these, and in strong contrast, rater, of great depth, and of precipitous walls of sulphureous ..me of these, hot streams flow down, re guided by the natives either into artificial baths latural hollows of the rock; the supply of hot wa g so regulated as to keep the bath at the right , re. Among these cauldrons and pools, a strong stream of cold water rushes, down, in some ,e spot at which the natives are in hot water, shelling Tasva ber , or failing in these employments, ing resource of smoking. But by rings are the boiling jets, which are ,t of many feet from a narrow ori regular cone, formed of the matter e water, which is deposited as it cools, ce of a pinkish white colour, sometimes llow by crystals of sulphur. It is per tops of these cones, to the and from that position it is grand, and boiling of the cauldron, and into the air, shivered by the 'n into silvery foam, and accom of white steam. The hot watt r, in its wn the sides of the crater, and falls baths of most agreeable temperature, ind white substance of the cone, and matter in its half-formed state, still Here the traveller may lie at his ease, ing of the boiling fountain above him; ild happen to change, he must shift his e will soon be too hot for him. A s here, with the usual appurtenances on at the hot springs, namely, hot laid over boiling water upon, steam banghis, or native always inn aess, and boles of boiling water in fish and potatoes can be speedily cooked. &dative completes the equipment of this fashionable water which, together with the game of drafts, relieve 'e who resort to the baths,—Bishop Set visitation Tour. .tv. the AcCor di n.-' remodel landowo and Suss to Ripon th all his the rig t. They w ave been t to the very base of whic their champion is INNER S . _ compliment ; dm table, and they about I himself [s rnis , !rai Lously to zrateful e to the fi knock t mgh a dozen tolerably elo.quer Ma full clear voice is reduced to a ce phrases even tl ,eaking, ian sub. which was L eskowly f dulness. Close by tilt lear pools of bright formal azure, enclosed in ion; from or into temper •om th and form also tinged with fectly safe to sti first, to of its Proj d by a voluo formed to the pu lined with the sa yielding and elast . • . I position, or h is small native v iii of a native steal ade of large slabs of sto e Tawa berr a their own influence, or lents, fiscal or otherwise, it personal influence, the I wonders. Their broad teemed to go with them ge, and they had strength rogress of a government for determined that Bill as a final measure hall be appeared to them t with a state o might be in the boroughs. of Sir Robert Peel in 183 their no have resis Poor law Bil devoted wise they r of extend the franc} ovens, which THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. ANIMAL MAGNETISM THE SOURCE OF THE MIRA CLES PERFORMED IN THE GREEK TEMPLES.- - In Greece, the temple-'leep and the revelations of the son nambule were phenomena no less common than in Egypt. The temple of lEsculapius at Epidaurus, as Pausanias describes it, was in a very beautiful and pleasant region, situated on an acclivity. and surrounded with garde,* and sacred t roves. In its fore-porches were the images of fortune, of the dream-god and of sleep ; behind the temple was the sleeping-house for the patients, and beside this a marble bath. No one was admitted to the interior of the temple, and they who would apprcach it had to undergo a course of preparation in a temple adjacent. The patients were obliged first to fast and to give a pro mise that they would do all that should be required of them ; at the same time the priests showed them the images of the gods and the votive tablets in the porches, in order to put their expectations on the stretch, and to produce in them an excited state of mind ; then prayers were said, and hymns sung, after which a sacrifice, gene rally a ram, was offered. An indispensable part of the preparatory treatment was bathing, and the drinking of `he watt - be ' The .er was on no account to be omitteu. sat was combined with frict'ons and a variety of manipula tions; then the patients were fumigated with different perfumes, often composed of a great number of ingredi ents, and after this were conducted into the sleeping house, where they slept either upon a ram's skin, or in a bed. This, Pdusanias says, was done by night in solemn silence and darkness, after all lights had been put out : noise and light disturbed the ancient sonnambule as they do the modern. They now dreamed, and prophesied for themselves and others, mostly in rhythmic forms; thus Aelius Aristides reports tint he " heard complete rules for the conduct of life in a poetical dialect." In their " lucid " dreams the image of the god was generally pre. sented to them, and from his lips, as it seemed to them, they received their revelations. However, then as now, not all slept who were received as patients, neither did all who slept dream or prophesy.—Dublin University May. TRAVELLING Two . CENTURIES AGO.—Nor earlier than the year 1638, Mary de Medicis, the queen-mother of France, v siting her daughter, Queen Henrietta, en tered London in a litter carried by two tutees. Mary, Queen of Scots, while under the surveillance of the Earl of Shrewsbury, appears to have travelled on horseback in her various journeys. That nobleman alludes in a letter to a fall the queen sustained from her horse, when tra velling from Sheffield to Buxton. In another letter from the same to his agent, T. Bawdewvn, is the following picture of a journey to London in 1582 :—" I thynke my company wyl be 20 gentylmen and 20 yemen, besydes ther men and my horse keprs I thynke to sett forwards about the 2d of Sept. from Wyngteld to Lester to my bedde, and so make but four days' journey to London." In the year 1640, the wife of Henry, last Earl of Cum berland, occupied eleven days going to London, and ap pears, from the state of the roads, to have ridden the whole way on horseback. "At this time (1609) the com munication between the ncrth and the universities was kept up by carriers, who pursued their route with whole trains of pack-horses. To their care were consigned the packages and persons of the scholars. It was through their medium that epistolary correspondence was managed; a letter could scarcely be exchanged between Yorkshire and Oxford in less time than a month." In December 1703, Charles, King of Spain, slept at Portsmouth, and the Prince of Denmark went to meet him. One of his attendants writes, " We set out at six o'clock in the morning, to go to Petworth, and did not get out of the coach (save only when overturned, or stuck fast in the mire) till we arrived at our journey's end. 'Twas hard service for the prince to sit fourteen hours in the coach that day without eating, and passing through the worst ways that I ever saw in my life: our coach would have suffered very often if the nimble boors of Sussex had not frequently poised it, or supported it with their shoulders, from Godalming almost to Petworth."—Mackinnon's History of Civilization. THE HOUSE OF SALLUST—ITS SPLENDOUR AND DE STRUCTION.—The situation was the most delightful in Rome. The spot where the house stood is now marked by the church of St. Susanna, separated by a street from the baths of Diocletian, and not far distant from the Fa. larian gate. During more than three centuries the palace of Sallust gradually expanded beneath the affluence of its imperial possessors. But its end was at length to ap proach. Upon an autumnal night, August 24, A.D. 410, the Falarian gate was silently opened, and the slumber of the Roman metropolis was startled by the tremendous sound of the Gothic trumpet. One can scarcely repress a feeling of regret, that the eye of the historian could not have been once more opened to behold the solemn specta cle that swept before his lighted window in that awful hour. The stern Alaric had commanded his barbarian legions to abstain from injury or insult to the churches and their treasures. Tile consecrated plate and orna ments were carried to St. Peter's. Art might have felt its pencil kindled by the astonishing procession, which then wound, in slow magnificence, from the extremity of the Quirinal hill to the distant quarter of the Vatican. Bands of the fierce and blue-eyed Goths marched in bat- tle array through the principal streets, protecting with their glittering arms the long train of terrified citizens, who bore aloft on their heads the sacred vessels of gold and silver. As the neighbouring houses poured oat their little companies of age and youth to mingle with the gathering stream, the air was rent with the shouts of the soldiers, softened into an indescribable sweetness by the strains of religious psalmody that melted into the clangor and tumult. Hitherto the flash of armour had shed a feeble glare upon this melancholy expedition ; but a brighter illumination soon broke over the path. The Goths set fire to the houses, partly with the intention of facilitating their own advance, and partly to bewilder the awe-stricken inhabitants; the flames quickly spread ; the home of genius and of empire began to blnze ; and, in the words of Gibbon, the ruins of the palace of Sallust re mained, in the age of Justinian, a stately monument of the Gothic conflagration.—Frazer's Magazine. A PICTURE'S WORTH.—" And yet." responded I, " the best artists are always the most admired. Some in ferior ones may, from adventitious circum s tances, obtain patronage in high places, but they do not command, even with this advantage, the popular voice. Whose names are most familiar to the public mouth? The names which the highest talent has made memorable. Around what picturei in an exhibition are the largest and most admir ing crowds collected ? The pictures which high talent has made glprious." " Fashion," returned Sharpson, " holds sway more or less in every thing, and crowds be get crowds. Besides, there are some kinds of power which, employed on certain subjects, will always interest even the dull herd. But rarely, indeed, save under the influence of fashion and flock-following, do the dull herd seek pasturage on the eminences of art. They prefer to leave the ' fair mountain,' to ' batten on this moor,' where their low spirits are quite at home. Of course they do not go away without getting a glimpse of the pictures, the frames at all event!, to which great names are attached ; because they are aware that in the cant of the circle' in which they move, be it wide or narrow, they are required to take part ; and they are alive to the necessity of falling into ecstasies, whether the present performances of those leading artists be exquisite or so-so. But it is the com mon-place that in reality enchants them ; the portrait of a lady, the kitten with the ball of cotton, the intolerable hamper of game, the detestable bunch of flowers, and the execrable basket of fruit." " That such execrables are yearly exhibited in sundry places is admitted, but you are not thence to assume that they are admired ' " I prove it," interposed Sbarpson, " when I prove that they are painted. Artists, good ant; bad, work for the market. The great painter, indeed, may find a liberal purchaser for his work, but the profound incapable is almost sure of a customer. Why, what becomes of the hundreds of odious outrages annually set forth ! Do you think they are burned? They are bought. Somewhere shines the sun upon their horrible varnish, and some poor wretches' eyes have daily to endure the sight of them." " Nay, if they are bought," cried I, " they cease to be atrocious. They instantly acquire a moral glow that gives a mellow ing tone to their flaring Ilues ; they are wrapped in a poetry of sentiment that redeems them from contempt. The act of purchase seals lair pretensions as valuable works of art, and the ' thin; of beauty is a joy for ever,' an heirloom on the walls of its owner." " You substan tiate the charge with whic% I started ! " exclaimed Sharp son, upsetting his glass. " I said you judged of a picture by the wall on which it hung."—Lamun Blanchard's Sketches of Life. WHY PROTESTANTS DISTRUST SIR ROBERT PEEL.— We are not insensible to Sir Robert Peel's great merits as a finance minister, nor have we been slow to give to him the cordial weed of our approbation. But no amount of financial prosperity can compensate for any deteriora tion of moral weal ; nor does the hectic flush of fever differ more from the glow of health, than a plethory of wealth from the only sure indications of national great ness. A nation may be even oppressed and encumbered, undoubtedly she may be corrupted, by a superabundance of worldly comforts, if they be not accompanied by the only knowledge which can make wise unto salvation. It is of little consequence that we provide for the life, if we neg lect the life of life. Man was created for higher things than to be a mere instrument of sordid accumulation. And never can the minister who limits his activity to the pro viding things needful for bodily necessities, accomplish the great end for which a nation like England has been raised up, dr secure to hims.-lf a lasting remembrance by the wise beneficence of his regulations. It is in this, Sir Robert Peel is wanting. He had at his command an in stitute by which he might have effected all that could be desired; a church es:Alishment, which in its teaching • and offices fully met tar, requirements of the age; which only required to be supported and extended, to do all that could be do by human instrumentality, for the religious well.!. nig of the people. It is painful to be obliged to add. ;hat the advantages of such an institute have been neglected. And in Ireland what has been the case? Has it not been rudely shaken, and contemptu ously set aside, while popery, the nurse of darkness and error, has been cherished and exalted ; in the hope, no doubt, that some temporal end would be answered. by the depression of a true, and the encouragement of a false religion ? We tell the right honourable baronet, that even in his political calculations he will be disappointed. The allies whom he fain would purchase, will become tyrants whom he cannot control. And the priesthood by whom be would hope to rule and to pacify a distracted country, will belie all calculations which may be made from the past, if they be not the agents and the stimulators of an agitation more violent and more turbulent by far, than any by which a British minister has as yet been Jet and hindered." So much for the sacrifices of moral to poli tical considerations. The moral guilt is incurred, and the political object is not attained. It is in vain to contend against the devil with the devil's own weapons. In the use of these he will be more than a match even for the adroitness and dexterity of ,Sir Robert Peel. His new popish friends may nibble off the bait, but they will not swallow the book which be designs for them. And this it is—this fatal blindness or indifference to the value of -moral and religious principle—which has shaken the con fidence of the country, and sapped the foundation! of his power, and will, if persevered in, render his administra tion as great a curse, as it promised to be a blessing to the British empire.—Dublin University 11{agassne.i ON THF. PRACTICE OF " MAKING FREE " WITH A FRIEND.—We can take any freedom with a friend; we stand on no ceremony with a friend. This, taking a friendly freedom, often means taking somebody by the arm and dragging him into a desperate scrape, because we reverence him above all other men. This standing on no ceremony, frequently implies, sitting below the salt at your friends board, and being wholly overlooked in the flattering attentions lavished upon a guest whom your friend cares not ever to see again. These things daily happen "in the beaten way of friendship." Dine with a man who bad selected you from the whole world as his own; who had eyes and chose you; who plays Hamlet to your Horatio : he sits you down to a friendly dinner, and gives you his second best port—no hock—no champagne —no claret. Dine again, when he would not for the. world you were absent, as he is desirous of entertaining an illustrious obscure whom he despises; you occupy no seat of honour, to be sure, on that occasion, but you are regaled with your friends best port, and invited to deliver verdicts upon his champagne and claret. You are com paratively certain of being well treated, when the enter tainment is not got up on your account—when you play a subordinate part in the friendly comedy • although then. if there happen to be a cold plate or a ;lullaby bunch of grapes, you are sure of getting it, because your friend can " take the liberty with you," be knows " you don't mind it." We feel bound to be punctual and conscientious with those we are indifferent about; while we can afford, at any time, on the frostiest night, to be an hour after our appointment with the single gentleman who occupies an apartment in our heart's core. With him we can play any prank that pleases our humour, or suits our conveni ence. We can fail to visit him when be expects us, if we have to make a call upon an acquaintance ; we can leave his letter unanswered for a week, if we have notes about nothings to reply to from unrespected correspond ents. The pledge one gives him, in an after-dinner pro mise to one's wife to be home at eleven, which is rigidly observed, if nothing happens to tempt one to break faith. It may be kept, or it may not be kept. We are to be punctual—if we like.—Blanchaed' s Sketches. CHILDREN.—To see children as they ought to be, you must see them in numerous covies. The real child is only to be found in a house where you can't set down a foot heedlessly without trampling on one. There they are so much in the way, that people are not allowed to forget them, and they are so many, that none of them can be spoiled by petting. Besides, children make by far the best keepers and companions for each other. A baby in its bascinet, trying to rest on its feet, while propping its little hands on the rim, or reaching over to catch some thing, is enough to outwear the patience of the most pat tern nurse-maid ; but .cet a little creature of two or three years old, the quiet and gentle one of the family, to watch the baby, and, proud of the commission, it never tires. The baby, too, is more amenable to its tiny coercion, when seeking to break bounds. Such a group is the only beau tiful emblem of the power that love imparts to human weakness. When the blind is imagined directing the lame, while the lame carries the blind, the picture is pain ful and humiliating; but there is no such alloy in the pic ture of an elf, only half emerged from babyhood, keeping baby from hurting itself while the baby supplies the place of a plaything. Or perhaps it is a gallant unbreeched boy who takes upon him the guardianship of a sister some twelve moons his senior. flow soon the " lord of the 1 creation" shows himself in the male. There is a mis chievous, laughing self-confidence in an urchin of two years, that girls never attain. If any other class of intel ligent existence have it in their power to contemplate human beings, the most inexperienced mate them must at once have a presentiment that in the baby• boy, they behold a creature whose will is to be law to himself and others. A nursery-maid, when children who are verging towards the transition epoch at which the child passes into the boy or girl prove unusually stubborn, sometimes threatens to leave them. Let the experiment be tried, and it is ten to one that the culprit, if a girl, looks on while ti .e bonnet and shawl are being pinned, half-incredulous, half- anxious, that her younger sister is dissolved in tears, and that while baby keeps crowing utterly unconscious of what is passing, little master, with a pout on his lip and a frown on his brow, doggedly sets his back against the door to prevent egress, and says nothing. In girl-children, the intellect develops itself more rapidly than in boy-children ; but the character is much earlier pronounced in the male. This may be the reason why we always find in the nursery pairings off, a brother and sister keeping themselves some what apart from the rest. Where there are two, one must go before; either the elder girl has not the talent of lead ing, or the younger feels instinctively that she has no au thority over her by divine right. The boy takes the lead unconsciously, and yet, as in after life, the girl has per haps more influence over him than he over her.—Tait. THE RAILWAY MOVEMENT.—No reflecting man can contemplate the prodigious magnitude of the railway en terprises in which the nation is involved—the hundreds of millions of capital required for their completion—the character,'profession, and standing of the proprietors— the districts of country they are intended to intersect, and the probable traffic expected to arise, without coming to the conclusion that, in the midst of a mass of the most arrant folly and madness, there is abundant material for grave thought. The statesman whose judgment is not clouded and bewildered by personal or pecuniary interest in any of these schemes, may find ample scope for the exercise of his talents, in estimating their probable effects upon the different orders of society, in advancing the in terests of trade, in promoting the welfare of the poor, in consolidating our strength at home, in vindicating our power abroad. It is, perhaps, not beyond his province to consider how far, by the exercise of a wise policy, they may be rendered subservient to'these great ends. This mass of railway enterprise, domestic and foreign, is the strong and distinctive evidence of a mighty stride in the progress of nations ; one of those great eras which mark the world's history, It may be fraught with the ruin of hundreds; it professes to be big with the happiness of millions. It is looked upon as the precursor of great good, because it comprises as essential ingredients to its accom plishment whatever is calculated to elevate, improve, and extend the interests of all classes .—the circulation of money—the extension of commerce—the employment of the people—the improvement of the facilities of inter course at home and abroad. It is impossible to say what important results may spring from these facilities—what increased resources may be acquired at home—what new relations may be formed abroad. With countries into which we have scarcely yet penetrated, it may be our pri vilege to enter into the most advantageous alliance—to open out an intercourse that may provide food and em ployment for millions unborn. It may be ours to bring into the closest intimacy of family relation, the inhabitants of new and comparatively unknown regions; to form set tlements, raise cities, and extend all the advantages of trade and the blessings of religion, where the sound of hammer has never yet rung, the rush of steam never yet been heard, nor the tidings of salvation yet been pro claimed. Holding such sentiments as these, we would be the last to throw a damp upon any legitimate enterprise, or to cloud with prejudice and doubt the unknown, the unseen future. This generation has witnessed the mighty revolutions effected by steam in the course of a few years. Where is the infidel who would venture to define the limit of improvement, the boundary of science ? How many sciences are known by experience to be still in their infancy? Is not the universe one vast storehouse of knowledge, in which we are, one day after another, mak ing new and important discoveries? The greatest philo sopher, in the midst of his brightest acquirements, can only adopt the sentiment of the immortal Newton, and say, that be feels as a child upon the sea-shore, throwing pebbles into the mighty ocean of truth that lies extended before him !—New Quarterly Review. SIR JAMES GRAHAM AS A RADICAL AND AS A CON SERVATIVE MINISTER. — Sir James Graham has always been equal to his position. Various as have been the parts he has played in the political drama of his time, he has always glided naturally into them, and distinguished himself as one of the first actors, rising naturally to the top. His speeches from time to time afforded an accurate barometer of his political position. On whichever side of politics they were made, they have always been marked by great aptitude, readiness, tact, vigour, and power. Except Lord Brougham and O'Connell, he has been, perhaps, the most actively militant orator of his day. When he was down be attacked those who were upper most; now he is in power, he wages perpetual war with those who are out. Whether attacking institutions or defending them, howev,:r, he has shewn equal ability and determination to conquer at all hazards. When he was a radical, or at least so very ultra a whig that the steady ones of the party were almost ashamed or at least afraid of him, he was so thoroughly uncompromising in his de nunciations, that Mr. Duncombe, whom he is now nightly striving to extinguish with all the awful terrors of law and order, would have been by his side but a mere wretched shadow of a demagogue. In fact, we have no such radi cals now as Sir James was then. They are all fat, jocular men, growing wealthy upon coronerships, and suchlike abominations; or blasi dandies in search of an excite- ment. Some o the speeches o ham, wh, ther in parliament, at the hustings, or at public meetings, at the time referred to, would in the present day be ae couote.! almost too bold for the most determined aspirant for the honours of political martyrdom. For they were unredeemed by the philosophy of liberalism : they had not even the dignity and tone of chartism. They were simple, unadulterated, partisan speeches, made to serve a purpose, and forgotten as soon as uttered. But about their talent there was no mistake. It was not that they were distinguished for high eloquence, but for power and downright hard hitting. They gave the speaker a claim on the rising party of the time; and in a few years the quasi-demagogue shot up into a minister. And a capital minister he made. His most determined enemies do not deny this. Whatever may he thought of Sir James Gra ham as a politician, no one hesitates to admit that he is one of the best administrative officers this country has for many years produced. The same talent, the tact and aptitude, which had made him so clever an assailant of the former government, rendered him immediately fit for office. He was here, as before, equal to his position. As a speaker on behalf of the government, too, he proved himself a most valuable ally,—turning the flank of his quondam radical associates with provokirn skill and un erring precision. But the prior claims of those who were already designated as the successors to the chief posts in the whig party still kept Sir James in the background, and forbade the hope of his taking that distinguished po sition for which his talents and ambition alike indicated him. The reorganisation of the party at that time, and their adoption of a policy of dangerous progress, afforded an opportunity for a change; and accordingly, in a very short time we find Sir James Graham (after a short time spent in a chrysalis state) a full-blown conservative. Here, again, he was fully equal to his position ; and as it was during the long and glorious struggle of the conser vative opposition headed by Sir Robert Peel, Lord Stan ley, and Sir James Graham, that the latter made his best speeches, a better opportunity cannot be taken to treat of his peculiarities as an orator-.which was the part he then laid himself out to fill—before attempting to describe him as be now is in his new character of repressor-general of the insubordinates in the House of Commons, or " crusher"-in. chief to the ministry.—" Contemporary Orators," in Prone.: -Magazine. PHENOMENA OF SOUND.—In the Arctic regions per sons can converse at more than a mile distant when the thermometer is below zero. In air, sound travels from 1130 to 1142 feet per second. In water, sound passes at the rate of 4708 feet per second. Sound travels in air about 900 feet for every pulsation of a healthy person at 75 in a minute. A bell sounded under water may be heard under water at 1200 feet distant. Sounds are dis tinctat twice the distance on water that they are on land. In a balloon, the barking of dogs on the ground may be heard at an elevation of three or four miles. On Table Moun tain, a mile above Cape Town, every noise in it, and even words, may be heard distinctly. The fire of the English on landing in Egypt was plainly heard 130 miles on the sea. Dr. Jameson says, in calm weather he heard every word of a sermon at a distance of two miles. Water is a better conductor of sound than air. Wood is also a powerful conductor of sound, and so is flannel or riband. Sound affects particles of dust in a sunbeam, cobwebs, and water in musical glasses ; it shakes small pieces of paper offa string in concord. Deaf persons may converse through deal rods held between the teeth, or hell to the throat or breast. Echoes are formed by elliptical surfaces combined with surrounding surfaces, or by such of them a fall into the respective distances of the surface of an ellipse, and are therefore directed to the other focus of the ellipse; for all the distances from both foci to such surface are equal, and hence there is a concentration of sounds at those points direct from one focus, and reflected back again from the other focus. An echo returns a monosyl lable at 70 feet distance, and another syllable for every 40 feet additional. The echo of artillery is increased or created by a cloud or clouds. Miners distinguish the sub stance bored by the sound ; and physicians distinguish the action of the heart or lungs by a listening tube. Gam blers can distinguish, in tossing money, which side is un dermost, though covered by the hand.—Hogy's Weekly Instructor. PROGRESS OF MUSIC IN ENGLAND.—The prevailing notion that music, as a science and as an art, has now reached a height far beyond that of any former age, is a mischievous error, of which it would be well that the world were disabused. Because music has always been chang ing, it has been taken for granted that it has always been advancing ; but these changes have often been the reverse of progressive—the mere dictates of caprice and fashion, they have often substituted ignorance and frivolity for depth, learning, and earnestness. In this country, doubt less, musical accomplishment as it is called—the smatter ing, that is, which all young ladies, and many young gen tlemen, acquire from fashionable teachers, is mere widely diffused than it ever was before. But it is equally certain that there were days, in the olden time, when the educated classes in England were much better instructed in music than they are now. In the days of Queen Bess, know ledge of the principles of the art, and skill in its practice, were so generally diffused among these classes, that any lady or gentleman who betrayed an ignorance of it was re garded as low-bred, and unfit to make a decent figure in good company. * * The books which, " according to custom, were brought to the table" when supper was ended, consisted of the works of the great English and Italian madrigalists of that time—those wonderful speci mens of vocal harmony which (like the sculptures of an cient Greece) modern art has vainly attempted to imitate, and whose performance demands an extent of instruction very different from that which is included in the musical accomplishment of our day. Compare one of those old English suppers with a modern musical party. One young lady, who has had what might be a decent patrimony spent on music masters, sits down to the piano -forte. and boldly attacks the last fantasia of Thalberg ; another fa vours the company with an entirely new reading of Grisi's favourite bravura in Donizetti's neiv opera. Their efforts are lost amid the clatter of tongues ; for it generally hap pens that music (and with such music, how can it be otherwise ?) is a signal for conversation, except, peradven ture, to some unfortunate wight, who, constrained by po liteness or some other motive, listens, like Pope, With sad civility, and an aching head, and then loads the fair exhibitor with a profusion of com pliments, extravagant in proportion to their insincerity. It is not among the higher classes only that music is thus abused and converted into an actual social nuisance. Fa shion has a downward tendency : " the toe of the peasant galls the kibe of the courtier ;" and there is hardly any class of society, however humble, which does not attempt to emulate the modes and amusements which prevail in the gilded saloons of the great.—Daily News. SIR JAMES GRAHAM'S BITTERNESS TOWARDS HIS OPPONENTS. — Sir James Graham has made enemies of almost every party in the legislature. It has not been because he has opposed them from time to tine, for other men who are much more populur have for many years done so more effectually. But it has been on account of the extreme virulence of his opposition. His fighting has always been a !'outrance. He has been too prone to dis dain the courtesies of political warfare ; fictions though they be, yet agreeable ones and humanising. He has always appeared to import his passions into party con flicts, as though he were not merely fighting the battle of opinions, but also maintaining his own personal quarrel. And yet he has never succeeded in impressing one with the idea of his being in earnest. That would have ren dered pardonable. language otherwise too severe. His harangues while in opposition, and indeed all his party speeches, rather seem the elaborate efforts of one having little real sympathy with the themes he is discussing or the views he is urging, but who has worked himself up to a state of fictitious enthusiasm or moral indignation, in order the more effectually to gratify political vindic tiveness, or advance personal ambition, by obtaining the applause of audiences willing to be misled under cover of those high-sounding pretences. But, whether simulated or real, some of the speeches here more particularly re ferred to—and to which, it must be added, no one could listen without being struck with admiration at their bold ness, skill, and sustained energy—were scarcely recon cilable with that liberal and charitable interpretation of the motives of opponents, which is one of the first duties of public men to eaeh other. Nor has Sir James Graham, while conducting his combats in this spirit, been at all choice in the weapons he used. Any missive that came to hand was hurled indiscriminately at the foe. No epi thet, however heavy its imputation (always, of course, saving that it is parliamentary) ; no taunt s however bitter or exasperating, whether to individuals, to parties, to opinions, or even to whole nations; no general charge, however grave as against the policy of a party, or however damnatory of the motives of his opponents in their coun cils or their conduct; and, finally, no manoeuvre that could by any stretch of license be accounted not incon sistent with parliamentary honour, even to the extent of partial statements of opponents' opinions, or partial quo tations or withholdings of justificatory matter ; not one such expedient, however little to be approved in fair and free public discussion, by which a temporary triumph could be won, or a rival for the hour put down, was ever rejected by Sir James Graham from any delicacy of tem perament; or from any high and fastidious sense of ho nour, such as restrains some men from grasping the vic tory which is theirs on such conditions ; or even from that constitutional love of fair play and open, stand-up fight ing which is the Englishman's boast, and which is covertly the guiding principle in all the debates in parliament.— " Contemporary Orators," in Fraser's Magazine. ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF FHE WAR BETWEEN BUENOS AYRES AND MONTE VlDEO.—General Rivera was the first President of the Banda Oriental. He was elected in 1831, after the Orientales had got rid of the Buenos Ayrean and Brazilian armies. His terms of office expired in 1835, and by his influence one of his offi cers, D. M, Orihe, was elected his successor. Rivera had been no friend to Rosas, President of Buenos Ayres. He had refused in 1831 to deliver up such of the Unita rians as had sought refuge in Monte Video. Oribe, on the contrary, not only prosclibed those men at the re quest of Rosas, but formed a plan for destroying the in dependence of his country by annexing to it the Argen tine Confederation. This was in 1836. The national party took the alarm. and Rivera. whom Oribe had at- tempted to deprive of the employment as Commander in -Chief, putting himself at the head at those disaffected to the government, obtained possession of the whole country, except the lower towns of Monte Video and Paysandie, to both of which he laid seige about the months of August and September, 1838. Soon after Oribe made a formal renunciation of his presidency, which being accepted by the congress, he retired into private life in Buenos Ayres. Rivera was elected Pre sident in 183 J; Oribe in the meantime having protested formally against the validity of his act of abdication Unhappily, the new President was persuaded by the French, then blockading Buenos, to declare war against Roses, under pretence that he had abetted the intrigues of Oribe ; but in 1840, when that great power adjusted its quarrel, " nothing was done about thl auxiliary war declared by against, who was thus left to his own re sources and the effects of the folly which the French had all but forced him to commit." Oribe thenceforward entered the service 1,;. meu•a !Anil eft, of General Rosas, assisting him in all badge of servitude, a portrait of General Rosas, stitched on his coat, on a red merino ground, surrounded by a motto, " Death to the savage Unitarianos." This is also inscribed on the flag of the despot; which once, and we hope once only, at the house of a British minister, min gled its folds with those of the banner of St. George. Without this portrait, and this device no person in the dominions of Roses may enter a church, establish a school, fill any public office, or serve in the army. Even the Uraguay officers who have joined Oribe must tarnish their honour by wearing it, or pay for the forfeit of their lives. Oribe, then, las Rosa's general, entered the Banda Oriental ; and of the horrors of that warfare General O'Brien enables us to judge. lie says, "At the time that Oribe invaded the Banda Oriental with the army and the Masorea commissioners of Rosas, I was then residing on my estate in the country. 1 am aware of wretches being staked into the ground forty-eight hours before their heads were sawed, not cut Off; of the lasso being flung over person's necks, and then dragged by a horse at full speed, until life became extinct; of spikes being driven into the mouths of human beings, and they, whilst living, thus nailed to trees !" After various fortunes of war, Rivera, in 1842, addressed a note to the govern ment of Rosas, requiring him to abstain from marching a fresh army into the Oriental territory. The Monte Videans at this took heart, strengthened their defences, enrolled their citizens, liberated and armed their slaves, and prepared to resist the land and naval forces already investing their city. But Rosas paid not the smallest at tention to the requirements of the representatives of Britain. His troops marched on as before, and Mr. Van deville, fearful of having already exceeded his instruc tions, did not even lift up his voice in protest against this insult to his Sovereign. Not so Commodore Purvis, who, in the Alfred Frigate, had come from Rio Janeiro to support, if need were, the representations of diplo macy, by a show of British guns. Thus have matters re- mained up to the present year, when the British and French governments, undertaking at all risks to restore the blessings of peace to the Banda Oriental, have sent troops to compel the bands of Rosas to retire. This at their bidding he is unwilling to do, preferring to trust to the natural defences of his country in the event of hos tilities with the two great powers.— Union Magazine. DEFECTIVE VENTILATION A CAUSE OF INTEMPE RANCE.-Dr. D. B. Reid, who has turned his attention to this topic, informs us that " defective ventilation re ducing the power of oxygenating the blood and sustaining the temperature, produces a morbid condition, which di minishes the relish for, and power of digesting plain food : unnatural stimuli, such as ardent spirits, are required to excite the languid circulation." In consonance with this opinion, we find many lamentable facts. A visit to some of the larger workshops in London and some of the ma nufacturing towns, would instantly lessen our wonder at the dissipated habits of the men, and explain the reason why certain classes of operatives are more intemperate than others. The pent up and polluted air, exhausted of all moisture, or floating with particles of dust, has a de pressing effect on the nervous energies of the men, and proves an almost irresistible provocative to the use of ar dent spirits and other strong drinks. At the risk of being somewhat personal, and that we may not be suspected of dealing in vague generalities, we condescend on two classes of tradesmen, who, on inquiry, were found to be more dissipated than others from this very cause—we mean flax dressers and tailors. Of the former we can testify from our own observation, that, while there are many honour able exceptions, as a class ney are the most addicted to intemperance of any in those districts where flax-spinning is prevalent. Yet they have no worse example and no greater temptations before them than other operatives ; but then they live in an atmosphere both dry and dusty— literally loaded with particles of flax. Let this evil be re medied or removed, and we are persuaded the craving for stimulants would be greatly diminished. With respect to tailors as a class, we submit the following extracts from the Report on the Sanatory Condition of the Labouring Population :--Thomas Brownlow worked eight years at Messrs. Allen's, Old Bond-street, London. There were from eighty to a hundred men in a room sixteen yards long and eight yards wide, close together, nearly knee to knee. The heat was twenty degrees higher than outside. The heat and smell were intolerable. I have known young men faint away. It had a very depressing effect on the energies. Many could not stay out the hours. The na tural effect of the depression was that we had recourse to drink as a stimulant. Gin was the first thing used in the morning at seven o'clock, an hour after beginning work. Gin and beer at eleven o'clock ! Beer and gin at three o'clock ; and gin and beer at five o'clock I—five times in one day 1 In answer to the query—" After work was there any drinking ?" the same person says, " Yes ; nearly all the young men went to the public-house, and some of the others." Here, then, was literally a hot-house for rearing drunkards! Other facts and statistics in abun dance are at band to prove that the same tradesmen in rural districts working by themselves, or only two or three together, in cooler places, are not specially addicted to drinking.—Hogg's Weekly Instructor. _ _ SUMMARY OF THE CHARACTER OF LORD BACON. — Patted on the head by Queen Elizabeth—mocking the worshippers of Aristotle at Cambridge—catching the first glimpses of his great discoveries, and yet uncertain whe ther the light was from heaven—associating with the learned and gay at the Court of France—devoting himself to Bracton and the Year Books in Gray's-inn—throwing aside the musty folios of the law to write a moral essay, to make an experiment in natural philosophy, or to detect the fallacies which had hitherto obstructed the progress of useful truth—contented for a time with taking " all knowledge for his province"—roused from these specula tions by the stings of vulgar ambition—playing all the arts of flattery to gain official advancement by Royal and Courtly favour—entering the House of Commons, and displaying powers of oratory of which he had been un conscious—being seduced ny the love of popular applause, for a brief space becoming a patriot—making amends by defending all the worst excesses of prerogative—publish ing to the world lucubrations on morals which show the nicest perception of what is honourable and beautiful, as well as prudent, in the conduct of life—yet, the son of a Lord Keeper, the nephew of the Prime Minister, a Queen's counsel, with the first practice at the bar, arrest ed for debt, and languishing in a sponging-house—tired with vain solicitations to his own kindred for promotion, joining the party of their opponent, and, after experien cing the most generous kindness from the young and chivalrous head of it, assisting to bring him to the scaf fold, and to blacken his memory—seeking, by a merce nary marriage, to repair his broken fortunes—on the ac cession of a new Sovereign offering up the most servile adulation to a pedant whom he utterly despised—infinitely gratified by being permitted to kneel, with 230 others, to receive the honour of knighthood—truckling to a worth less favourite with the most slavish subserviency, that he might be appointed a law officer of the Crown—then giving the most admirable advice for the compilation and emendation of the laws of England, and helping to inflict torture on a poor parson, whom he wished to hang as a traitor for writing an unpublished and unpreached sermon —attracting the notice of all Europe by his philosophical works, which established a new era in the mode of inves tigating the phenomena both of matter and mind—basely intriguing in the meanwhile for further promotion, and writing secret letters to his Sovereign to disparage his rivals—riding proudly between the Lord High Treasurer and Lo►d Privy Seal, preceded by his mace-bearer and purse-bearer, and followed by a long line of nobles and judges, to be installed in the office of Lord High Chan cellor—by-and-by, settling with his servants the account of the bribes they bad received for him—a little embar rassed by being obliged out of decency, the case being so clear, to decide against the party whose money he had pocketed, but stifling the misgivings of conscience by the splendour and flattery which he now commanded—struck to the earth by the discovery of his corruption—taking to his bed and refusing sustenance—confessing the truth of the charges brought against him, and abjectly imploring mercy—nobly rallying from his disgrace, and engaging in new literary undertakings, which have added to the splen dour of his name—still exhibiting a touch of his ancient vanity, and, in the midst of pecuniary embarrassments, refusing to be " stripped of his feathers."—Campbell's Lives of Chancellors. STATIONS OF THE BRITISH ARMY, ON THE IST FEBRUARY, 1846 (From Colburn's United Service Magazine [Where two places are mentioned, the last-named is that at which the Depot of the Regiment is stationed.] Ist LifeGuards—Hyde Park 40th—Bengal; Dover. 2nd Ditto—Windsor. 41st—Dublin. Royal H.Guards—Rgnt's Park. 42d—Malta ; Isle of Wight. Ist Dragn Gds.—Exeter. Reserve batt., Malta 2d—Dublin 43.21—Halifax ; Dover. 3d—Ballincollig 44th—Dublin. 4th—Edinburgh. 45th—Cape of Good Hope, I.W sth—Nottingham. Reserve batt., M.Video 6th—Manchester. 46th—Canada; Armagh 7th—C. G. Hope, Maidstone. 47th—Chester. Ist Dragoons—Dundalk. 48th—Jamaica; Kilkenny. 2d—Dublin 4gth—Athlone. 3d—Bengal; Maidstone 50th—Bengal; Chatham. 4th—Hounslow. 51st—Van D. Land ;* Chatham oth—Birmingham. 52d—Quebec; Brecon. 7th Hussars—lpswich 53d—Bengal; Chatham. Bth—Longford • 54th—Glbraltar-I'ermoy gth Lancers—Bengal ; ?Midst. 55th—Devonport. 10th Hussars—York. 56th—Bury, (Lancashire. ) 11th Hussars—Dublin. 57th—Madras ; Chatham. 12th Lancers— Coventry. 58th—N.S.Wales ; Chatham. 13th Light D'goons—Cahir. sgth—Leeds. i4th—Bombay ; Maidstone. 60th(lst batt.)-Bombay; Chat. 15th Hussars—Madras; M'ston (2d batt.)—Canada ; Paisley. 16th Lancers—Bengal , Maidstn 61st—Bengal; Chatham. 17th Lancers—Brighton 62d—Bengal ; Chatham. Grenadier Guards, (Ist batt.) 63d—Madras ; Chatham. Wel ington Barr. 64th—Dublin. (2d batt.)—Windsor. _ _ 65th—Chatham.i _ _ (3d batt.)—St. George's Barr. Coldstream Guards, (Ist batt Portm an. st. Barr. (2d batt)—Tower. St. John's Wood (2d batt.)—Winchester. Ist Foot (Ist batt.)—Gibraltar (2dbatt.)Barbados; Glasgow. 2d Foot—Bombay; Chiche to 3d—Winchester. 4th—Madras ; Chatham. sth—Enniskillen. 6th—M tillingar. i3th gith- -10t- h-1 lth 12th- 66th—Gibraltar ; Clare Castle 67th Templemore. 68th-- Weedon. 69th—Weedon. 70th—Durham. Reserve batt., Canada —Gibraltar ; Templemore. 74th —Gosport, 75th—Birr. , 76th— M a, chester. 77th—Jamaica; Templemore 78th —Bombay; Chatham. 7gtli—Gibraltar ; Belterbut. —Portsmouth. —Bengal; Chatham. —Bengal; Chatham. —N. S. Wales, Chatham —Mauritius; Isle Wight Reserve batt., Mauriti 13th—Walmer. 14th—Canada ; Plymouth. 15th—Ceylon ; Waterford. 16th—Gibraltar; Buttevant. 17th—Bombay ; Chatham. 18th—China ; Chatham. 19th—Barbadoes; Carlow. loth—Bermuda; Isle of Mgt t—Canada i Jersey. [—Canada; Kinsale 84th—Madras; Chatham. 85th*—St.Vincent; Newry -Madras; Chatham Bombay ; Chatham 87th—Aberdeen. 88th—Malta; Boyle. Bgth—Canada ; Carlisle. 90th—Ceylon ; Hull. gist—Cape °Mood Hope; I.ofW Reserve batt., C. G. Hope g2d—Edinburgh. 93d—Canada; Newbridge. Nth—Men ; Chatham —Trinida - d Isle of Wight Reserve batt., Cana& 24th—Cork 25th—Madras ; Chatham 26th—Belfast. 27th—CapeG Hope ; Guernsey 28th—Bombay ; Chatham. 29th—Bengal ; Chatham. 30th—Castlebar. 31st—Bengal; Chatham. 32d—Athlone. 33d—N. Brunswick ; Clonmel. 34th—Corfu ; Cashel 35th—Mauritius ; Charles Fort, 36th—Newcastle-upon-Tyne 37th—Newport. 33th—Jamaica; London'lerry. 39th—Bengal ; Chatham. 95th—Ceylon ;. Tralee. 96th—N.S.Wales; Chatham. 97th—Corfu ; Isle of Wight. Reserve batt., Cephalonia. 98th—China ; Chatham. 99th—N. S. Wales ; Chatham. Rifle B (Istb.)—Corfu ; Dublin. (2d batt.)—Halifax,N.S., IsleW Reserve hatt., Halifax, N. S. Ist W. I. Regt.—Jamaica. 2nd—Nassau. * On passage to England. Embarking for 3d—Demera. Sierra Leone, &c Ceylon Rifle Regt.—Ceylon. R. Canada Rifle Reg.—Canada. Cape Mounted Riflemen—Cape of Good Hope. Royal Newfoundland Veteran Companies —Newfoundland Royal Malta Fencibles, Malta. St. Helena Regt.—St. Helena. t Under orders for Bengal Jew South Wales. THEATRIZ-BOYAL, WILLIAMSON - SQUARE,—We had three splendidly-filled houses at this theatre on Thursday, Friday, and last night; the attraction being the acting of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Mathews. To-night, it will be seen, the latter takes her benefit. EVANS'S RESTORATIVE BALSAM.—By reference to our first rage, it will be seen that Mr. Coupland, of Parker-street, is now sole manufacturer of this excellent article. Those who suffer from loss or insufficiency of hair should try this restorative, as within our own obser vance we have known more than one case where its effects were most efficacious. TH EATR E- ROYAL CHURCH-STREET. - The perfor mances continue to be of a varied and attractive character. The benefit of Mr. Shuttleworth, the box-keeper, whose affability and anxiety to accommodate the public must by this time be d u ly apprec i ated, is fixed f or T hurs d ay even. ing. Mr. Holloway, whose acting as clown in the panto mime will be remembered, takes his benefit this evening. DESTRUCTION OF VERMIN.—As the dwelling-houses of Liverpool —as in most seaport towns—are nearly all in fested with cockroaches, and other vermin, it will be gratifying to the occupants to learn that they may be re moved for a charge of threepence. Mr. Purnell, of Liver court, advertises in our paper to-day, a preparation which is strongly recommended by printed testimonials—and which instantly destrofs these abominable nuisances. Fel). 10, 1546. I Zirtbs, ,:filarriagrs anb Death°. . ~,, bill, si t ' . On the 4th ultimo, at No. BIRTH 3, St. Ma S ry's-plaeep ",-..- c i David Thom, of a daughter. ' a the 14" On the 28th ultimo, at ,Market-street, Ulverstone, Mr. William Nowlan, of son. On the Ist instant, at C urzon - s t ree t, L o ndon, the 11°Ij' ribi George Hope, of a son. CIO Same day, at the noble marquis's residence, in cent, London, the Marchioness of Bradford, of a son., . he Ref. On the 2nd instant, at Burwash, Sussex, the wife al '''' John Turner, of a son. l3 P l. G. ' On the 3rd instant, at 11, Shaw-street, the wife o f leras, Esq., of a dau_hter. ilef' f. On the 4th instant, at Oxford-street, the wi fe of the C. Griffith, of a son. Same day, in Duke-street, Mrs. N. Shannon. of a son . %_. 0 On the sth instant, at Belle Vue House, Wavertree, tu` of J. Park of a son; since dead. dO O, IA d 1 Same day, in •street, Grosvenor square, Lon Graham, of a daughter. On the Bth inst, at Claughton Firs, Mrs. Cole of a a"' Wilton MARRIED ately, at Leeds, Mr. Thomas Redfern, of the Butche rs ' to Miss Charlotte Blake, both of Douglas , Isle of Man' Atallei On the 31st ultimo, at St. George's Church. IL/lover-Nap London, Robert, youngest son of the late Mr. HeiorictV i o mann. of Chelsea, to Mary J an e, e ld es t d aug hter of " 1 John E. Brand, Esq., of Westbourne, Harrow-road. %fal l Same day, at St. Pa,cras New Church, London, Janics,: i aarta Syer. Esq , of New Bridge-street, Blackfriars, to E l ` l , Sophia, daughter of the late Willi am H enry Cham bers, : 5 1 i .ael± Same day, at St. Catharine Cree Ch urc h, Leadenha l 4 0 1 London, by the Rev. I. J. Gelli ng , C ap t a i n E. Taylor , ;:scla E. I. ship Similah, to Hannah Georgiana, daughter of 14 Messam, Aldgate. B V ) ,eS Same day, at Great George-stre e t Ch ape l, Mr. Arthu r og./ Stephens, Penryn, Cornwall, to S ara h Georiana, third d ter of Mr. Chars Morris. S il Same day, a le t the Parish Church. Lytham. Richa rd Wei °l Livesey, Esq., Crabtree House, Brindle, to Mary, daug John Lodge, Esq., Bare, near Lancaster. salty On the ist instant, at St. Philip's Church, Mr. Edwin 7 0 0 Miss Sarah, second daughter of the late Mr. Edifili -- -- watchmaker, Holywell, Flintshire. Same day, at the Wesleyan Association Chapel, p pleasant, Burnley, by the Rev. M r . Gilchri-,t, of nacu r ea 'o Simon Carter, cotton-dealer, &c., t o Mi ss M arg aret Hafgheroe daughter of the late Mr. Hargreaves, calico-printer, Ca J. Same day, at St. John the Baptist's Church, by the: sq. , 0 1 Hassall, Esq., to Sarah, daughter of Thomas Caris, Toxteth the 2 Park. mak On nd instant, at Croston Church, by the Rev* ter, Mr. John Evans, of Liverpool, to Margaret, daughte r Richard Norris, Ulnes Walton. p C. Same day, at St. Peter's Ch urc h, Ch es t er, b y the ..e/,:otlio` Taylor, Mr. James Bell, bre wer , t o M rs. A nn P aea sey, Chester. tt o Same day, by the Rev. Mr. Stewart, Mr. Brownbill Vraor,r, Sarah Anne, e dest daughter of th e l a t e M r. Thomas" both of this town. _ tif c. On the 3d instant, at the Cresce n t Ch ape l , by the Re i on Thomas, Mr. Edward Price Jones, late of Wrexham. % e sti' youngest daughter of Mr. Richard Willi ams, o f Great ..., street, Kirkdale 4 , John., al ,GreP Same day, at Farndon,by the Rev. M r . Piccolo, John. , .. lo E. q., surgeon, Weaverham, to Elle n , d aug ht er o f the la" i Miller. Esq., of Farndon. ti df o ,, f ' Rev. Sa Same day, at Renshaw-street Chapel, Mr. James .I n t ov• Rawlins, Syddall Cottage, near Wrexham, to Harriet act or youngest daughter of G. L. Cox, Esq.. of Spring-bank , , tt` breck. m ß e ic d h a a y r , d at ve T v r e in rs i , ty m C A h7 R ch ec , to M r stry of le c b u on bi e e , George Beresford, youngest son of the late Admiral 5 1 „elib Poo Beresford , Part., to the Honou, able Caroline , ' l , - , youngest daughter of the Right Honourable Lord DenT a dp Same day, at St. George's Church, Hanover-square, 'o no by the Rev. W. H. Dickenson, 8.C.L., Marianna, 1 . .,. 0 4 , daughter of the late Captain Bridge, of Calcutta and Chetnstp E. 1., a d of Elie, Fifesbire, to M. Dillon, Fitzgeral d, Bloomsbury, and Turlough, county of Roscommon. „ I. , ° r Same day, at the Church of St. Mary, Bryanston.squ a 'Voli", don, Viscount Curzon, son of Earl Howe, to Miss Harrie s of" Sturt, second daughter of Mr. H. C. and Lady Charlotte and niece of the Earl of Cardigan. lift ! 1 A t O k i n n the s cn . 4thi rectorns instant, t c , l i a n d d M . g o h n ,IE countystow n Church , n c r a ch rio b w y , the Re ' 'to the , bridegroom, Charles Atkinson, Esq., of Green H b a r l ° l, th e e:t l; ti c l°'el Armagh, to Rebecca Sarah, only child of the late Ele i tot be E R si Same ah . mt of Montpellier edva.yt.haet i,os t r. Parade, dGße osrhgoep,B 0 county Ch uo rrckh. o . f E vert Dublin , o n andby the ni ec e e: I, e r tdi y .London, the Re,! l:l i j o ' b p : W. Ewbank, Mr. Thomas Davies, tailor, to Miss .'„' o tls Jones, youngest daughter of the late Mr. Daniel Jones , ' , this town. ..del! b A v Same day, at the Unit ar i an Ch apel, Gee Cross, ma- nc pte"el, by the Rev. J. Brooks, T. B. Potter, Esq., s on of the f fo Thomas Potter, to Mary, daughter of S. Ashton, Esq., Bank, DIED. Lately, at Stanley-place, Chester, Miss Elizabeth Ve oc Lately, at his seat in Ircla u d, i n t h e 71st year of his ag , ` t Admiral Samuel C. Rowlcy. Oat' At Skipton, aged 84 yea rs , M rs. El iz a beth Cockshott, tir daughter of the late Thomas Cockshott, Esq., of Ma rle ' .. Bingley, Yorkshire. Lately, at Milton, Somerset, aged I On, Betty RYd elL t ieit ti' deceased possessed all her f a c u lti es up t o t h e t i me of 11e 1 r . o ° ,l ately, at Mr. Crosby' s , b utc h er, Ki rkda l e, aged 1 8, „, Hornby, eldest son of the l a t e M r . H . Horn b y , fora H uyton. Lately, at Birley, near Bradf o rd, age d g7 i pea rs, i i v" Verity, retaining his mental faculti es up to t h e last his life. _rtOr Lately, at the residence of hisj daughter, WillOce - f g West Derby, aged 93 years, Charles Stewart, Ese•i °f 10 0 6 mire, King's County, Ireland ; a gentlem an throughon to life universally beloved and respected, and one of the 1" the old volunteers of 'B2. eed h i s On the 29th of October, at L oc k now, E ast In dies. - 'f t-,. months. Egerton Smith, i n f an t son o f Captain Bracken, to ) 1 ' 99th Bengal Native Infantry, and grandson of the 19 o f Egerton Smith. of this tow n . On the 4th ultimo, at A nnan , age d 101, Mrs. Ann -- Halliday. Or On the 18th ultimo, at A u B ar bi n , departement A DO'tg Inferieure, France, in his 81st year, Frederick Terry, of Finsbul6 th ry-place. London. „rd t ',( On the December, at Demerara, by falling overli e- 40 barque Mary, aged 15 years and 9 months, Alfred, third Mr. James rd Carrol, m of this town. On the 3 ultio, at Carraccas, South America, Sir ~eot6e Macgregor. I 1* td On the nth ultimo, at Mylor. aged 85 years, Mr. -• of 4 This veteran was the last survivor of the gallant crel e stl" o i Antelope packet, of which-he was boatswain, when in I u pel i f took the French schooner, privateer, Atalanta, All the 0 0` officers being killed. he took the command, and P er o e 0 ,; lashed the schooner's yard-arm to the rigging of the s l' it po curing which he had three shots through his hat, but t e injury Same to himself. day. Mrs Simpson, of Stanhope- S t ree t , relict o f tbe o Captain E Simpson, of this port. ; g e" 0 0 0 01 On the 22nd ultimo, at Marseilles, M. Casselle, 4,04, board the Osiris packet. He was seized with a pain in Her when walking on the deck, and was taken to his cabin• ired almost immediately. DeP r 1 Same day, aged 54, M r . E van Th omas, grocer. Stet' street, Toxteth-park. ed e ; ic of 01 the 23rd ultimo. a ge d 9 years, Prince William - Nicholas Albert, only son of Prince Frederick, and Der dj the King of Holland. - Ad Same day, aged 42, Mr. Joseph Roberts, boat.buildeb ,on.street b e . 01 On the 25th ultimo , at hi s res id ence, Copley Hill, 10 t (ls year of his age, Mr. William Wilkinson, youngest son ° Wilkinson, Esq., of Staleybridgv. Same day, in his 68th yea7,M r. Robert Creer, Douglas, Isle of Mau. Same day, in her gist year, Margaret, relict of the lalc T. Faulkner, of Hale- On the 27th ultimo, the late Mr. George Bramall. Same day, aged 85, S usan, w i fe of Mr. J. Dear den ' Of stead, Rossendale. Her immediate descendants comp children, 114 grandchildren, 125 great grandchildre n ' great great-grandchildren, making a total of 260. r o e 'e ll., Same day, at the Maid en ' s -b ower , K nows l ey, age" , Grent. for upwards of thirty years schoolmaster in tik e t, 1 On the 29th ultimo, at Charlto n , i n th e coun ty of 74 years, Lieutenant-General Sir Frederick William z" e of K.C.H.. late Inspector-Gene r al of Fortifications. o y l . Same day, at Manchester. suddenly, Mr. G. Cocks, the representative of the house of Cocks and Co., In ° London- On the twenty-t' t Speke ged 61 years, Sar 29th ultimo, at Cala Mr. Marshall, ,011hUl at mat place. e liet On the 3r th ultimo, at Worcester, Mrs. Yeomans, r, o e, Rev.W.B. Yeomanr, D.D., Rector cf Bucknell, name uay. at tile Kectory House, Donhead St. A.Z A :r. 35 years. Mary Cecilia, second dau g hte r o f the Rev. fatly'' et P dr Same day, aged 54 years, Mr. William Sa un ders, „ John and Miss Saunders, of the Theatre-Royal. a" y Saunders. of the Royal Amphitheatre, of this town• Same day, at his residence, Charlotte-street, Carpue, the celebrated reformer in the medical nrofe_ On the 31st ultimo. aged 4 years, Richa-d Bolton pa p c Same day, aged 37 y e ar s , M r . C rewe Ed w ards s irviving son of the kat. rs.p.wp flaVl e ..e bent of Flint. b ert og, Same day, in Dexter-street, aged 40 years. Mr. say. blockmaker. same nay, at his house, Davies-street, Berkeley: 9 l; o c:'l don, in the 50th yea r o f i l i s age, R i chard James 11,tcljelPal "tkme day, at Mo un t R a df or d terrace, Exe ter, 05 ' " Baugh, R.NA eldest son of Captain Tb° Henry 1 Bauch. R.N Same day. aged eight day s , Mary ,lane, infant ebild Edward Bickersteth. Park-lane. re wailed( On the Ist instant. in Ira yard year, Mr. Seed- "-eel _, th ,t.,...1.---.....i....4 laL vitipsc• Same day, at his house. Princes-st r eet. London: i°. O f .141 e uperintendent of the H Div sioo FitzmauriCe Pierse, politan Police Same day, at Laurie-terrace. Westmihster.road , , j o co' P 66 years, John Mackenzie, Esq., M.D., surg eon - Fields. eft g ob de Same day, at his residence, Marie Hill House , - t y rfrifitfi ton Leaper Newton, E sq ., of Mickleover, in theoonnot N' it. and late Lieut-Colonel of the Derbyshire Regifnen.the f ef ' its' ,' Same day, at the Rect ory H ouse, Nantwich, o' Gretton, rector of that parish. • nine' . ' d i Same day, aged 48 years, Mr. James Br,:ckeY, I - Jo' street. t D 83% d o ll Same day, aged at year s , R a l p h , e ld es t son ° , Same day, at his residence, near L} mm, Ellis, Warrington. b i l e, . t e Ches o r da years, John Walton Leaf, Esq second., vord On the 2nd instant, aged 2, years, Harriet, So ~f' of Mr. Joseph Tollitt, Warrington. , q t r. Wigg, Wavertree. Same day, in her 21st year, Mary Ann, wife of gr. . f er l l, Vi a ' . of ' Same day, at Runcorn, aged 23 years, Mr. .\ on e t , d 5 11 croft. cat.,tain or the schooner Bryan Boru, " 1 „r0...,,• , 10 Ravenscroft, chain- cab le.and anchor-smith, Rune - , , , r t ot Same day, at her residence, Vine-street, ag ed i,ill , • O f relict of the late Thomas Roberts, of BrownloW• 0 00 5 t o , " On the 3rd instant, Betsey, the wife of T oter marble-mason, Finch-street, 44, i 440 Same day, aged L 6 years, Captain John Bowden' oC , e i: road, deeply regretted. ar ro, v i 04 Sallie day, at Paris, aged 55, Senor Maximo ? 0 ,- fl'O e 0 ~o Minister Plenipotentiary to France. He %vas obe r d" attached to the Mexican embassy in London , gn o ~ much respected. Fr S i e a rd e s ... Jo nes . 4 , day at Dublin, Joshua Abel, a member of t he ''reol On the 4th instant, James, youngest son of Mr' bury, of Russell.street. Same day, Mr. John C. 1 1° regiment. t * m oo Same day. in Gr.at Newto n - s t ree t, aged 17 otoo so Same day, in his ackson 73rd year, Mr. W. Barnard , 8 . 6 10 3 •01'10 Globe Insurance Office from its establishmen t, J. 1 :0 3 01 4 00 On the sth insta n t, Th omas, on l y son of A. Nt, ilea o ft' Same day, aged 55, Mr. John V en ables, of t"" re lict Christleton, near Chester. Har risoll, *o o' Same day, in her 70th year, Mrs. Agnes , f elP late Mr. Wm. Harrison, of this town. Same day, aged 67, Elizabeth, relict of thean- a tll' "ra;g, late coloar-sergeant " Morgan, late- nf Pe C‘, On the 6th instatitaged 79, Mr., John Faza ketleY' of street. gbes 64 tb 0 On the 7th instant, aged 56,, Mr. Edward lie „rs way Castle, Hackin's-hey, for twenty-five Y e...- servant to John Bent, Esq,, brewer.. 'ant 4,1,41t1d ‘ ' ; ' ll e Q 1 :4; 1 1 h C 4a t kitiv !tiZ'..ki,,'' Tw r e hu t kir l i% 4l ' rci Of A ‘Lt, to It sa, r ist tt Opl .14j;th 1, 4 14 1 4 z v . bEelr) i t4l- e "W 'D;b44lll( 1„, 4 14 t , 't ll qq3 °. Oti 1. eat. 5 10, No4.ICQI iquq, : ;_ut 1) 4 11 ; ; 3 2 tik k t m , lo n :.1411 o'l 41. Y. hitt. l ,; Lai Ao kt /t t ll p t h4ll li t ,ch tt o ,to 4t, t 441 fi 0114 Y ‘ 4 :r l 4114 P. z ant OtiL T he /61°,11't V E Fl o ss fr o g I 4 0 A s4LSt Ar eth t , ke,f 3 Ylph 1 / or earth.