The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-03-10 00:00:00

Z.lttraturr. POETRY. NIGHT. (Written for the Liverpool Standard.) Night, solemn priestess ! reigns. Na k, hear'st thou not Her voiceless call to worship ? Earth's delights, The gilding of its baubles dimm'd, are gone ; Its cares cease to distract, and the calm soul Becomes a temple consecrate to peace; Whence the heart's incense to the sky is given. I hear thee, Night, declare the present God! Thy myriad gems are flaming; not alone To Nature lights, but lamps to Reason too. Bright orators, mysterious, of his praise; They herald the Eternal, and proclaim, In characters sublime, his attributes. This was the theme of the primeval song; The burden of Creation's morning hymn; The still small voice through distant ages dim. 0 Night! thy gl-res these; and yet too well They mark the boundaries of our love, and seem The flaming swords that guard the way of Truth. Brunswiek-roart. SAML. HUGGINS THE CLOUD IN THE WEST. (From the Dublin Cairerstly Magazine.) A cloud is on the western sky, There's tempest o'er the sea, And bankrul t states are blustering high, But not a whit care we. Our guns shall roar, our steel shall gleam, Before Columbia's distant stream Shall own another's sway; We'll take our stand, And draw the brand, As in the ancient day. They count on feuds w:thin the isle, They think the sword is broke, They look to Ireland, and they smile — But let them hide the stroke. When rendered one in hand and heart By robber war, and swindler art, Home griefs all cast away; We'll take our stand, And draw the brand, As in the ancient day. Oh, let them look to where in bonds For help their bondsmen cry— • Oh, let them look ere British hands Wipe out that living lie. Beneath the flag of Liberty We'll sweep the wide Atlantic sea, And tear their chains away ; There take our stand, And draw the brand, As in the ancient day. Veil, starry banner, veil your pride, The blood-red cross before. Emblem of that by Jordan's side, Man's freedom-price that bore. No land is strong that owns a slave, Vain is it wealthy, crafty, brave; Our freedom fot our stay, We'l' take our stand, And draw the brand, As in the ancient day. Shoat, dusky millions, through the world ! Ye scourge•driven nations, shout! The flag of Liberty's unfurl'd, And freedom's sword is out ! The slaver's boastful thirst of gain Tends but to break his boudsman's chain ; And Britain's on the way To'take her stand, And draw the brand, As in the ancient day. SELECTIONS. CHARACTER OF THE MOVEMENT IN GERMANY.—In principle Ronge appears to be a rationalist of the lowest school, professing principles widely different from Czerski, who is at the head of another section of the movement party, professing an orthodox Christian creed. The reli gious principle is much more strongly developed in the latter than in the former of these two great leaders. While Ronge complains in nervous strains of the load which Rome has laid upon his spirit, of the weariness he feels under her yoke ; Czerski dwells entirely upon the degradation which falls upon him as a Christian, and the absolute incompatibility of the maxims enjoined by the Romish Church with the pure and unadulterated Word of God. The tendency of ell the pamphlets I have read upon this subject seem decidedly in favour of the presby terian form of church government, as will at once be apparent from a perusal of the document I annex. and I fear the creed professed by the party is very nearly similar to the Ariau schism as it exists in this country ; so that although any remove from downright popery is an altera tioa for the better, much remains yet to be accomplished before the new Catholic Church in Germany can prove permanently useful. In a very able article upon this sub ject in a former number of this magazine, the writer ex presses his conviction that the introduction of our liturgy, or some similar form of worship, would prove of most material benefit to the permanence of the new German church ; and this writer is happy to state, that in the town where he was a resident, the clergyman of our Es tablishment, who was the chaplain there, had procured, from the society in London for the Promotion of the Gos pel in Foreign Parts, an abundant. supply of Common Prayer books, translated into German, and was actively engaged in distributing them among the new congregation, the leading members of which professed their extreme gratification at our simple and beautiful forms of prayer, and appeared most anxious to obtain the introduction of them into the course of the new service.—Dublin Univer sity Magazine. LORD PALMERSTON'S HOBBY.—However much Lord Palmerston may fall into the sham-patriotic vein in his usual party speeches, there is one subject on which, as we have said, he is inconveniently in earnest. Touch his fo reign policy, and on the instant his soul is in arms. Nay, he does not wait till it is touched, aspen-like though his vanity be on that theme. So intimately possessed is be of the absolute excellence of his foreign administration, and of its importance to mankind, that he is unceasingly, and without being asked, expounding and explaining it. lie defends himself spontaneously, without having been attacked ' • and he never defends himself without gratui tously attacking some one else. Sir Robert Peel once charged him, in well-sugured parliamentary phrase, with assurance. The imputation was well aimed ; every one instantly responded to it; for, indeed, the noble lord has no unnecessary modesty in speaking of himself or his ser vices. He is assiduous, and altogether unrestrained by delicacy, in trumpeting his own exploits as foreign minis ter. All the wars he didn't and all the wars he did bring about ; all, his dexterous manceuvres by which, while pro claiming peace, he was countenancing a kind of war in disguise ; these have been paraded session after session, upon all imaginable pretexts, before the House of Com mons, till Lord Palmerston's pertinacity has become pro verbial. His amour propre, in fact, on the subject of his foreign policy, almost takes the shape of a mania. His constant references to it, and the extent to which he has trespassed on the patience of the house, have detracted, to a considerable extent, from the influence which his unde niable talents as a speaker, and even his admitted abilities as a foreign minister, have long since entitled him to and secured for him. He is so easily excited on this topic, that whatever subject he may be talking on, however much his speech may necessarily be confined to subjects of a domestic nature, hiS mind seems, by a natural affinity, to glide into the one great theme which occupies his thoughts At a guess, it might be hazarded that. taking the average of his speeches during the last ten or twelve years, four fifths of them, at least, have consisted of self-praise, or self-defence, in connexion with his foreign policy.—Con temporary Orators, in Fraser's Magazine. THE PENNY-A-LINER.—The penny-a-liner, like Pope, is " known by his style." His fine Roman hand once seen, may be sworn'to by the most cursory observer. But though in this one respect of identity resembling Pope, he bears not in any other the least resemblance to any author dead or living. He has no brother, and is like no brother in literature. Such as he was, he is. He disdains to ac commodate his manner to the ever-altering taste of the times. He refuses to bow down to the popular idol, in novation. He has a style, and he sticks to it. He scorns , to depart from it, to gratify the thirst for novelty. He ; even thinks that it improves with use, and that his pet phrases acquire a finer point and an additional emphasis upon every fresh application. Thus in relating the last fashionable occurrence, how a noble family has been plunged into consternation and sorrow by the elopement of Lady Prudentia a month after marriage, he informs you, as though the phrase itself carried conviction to the heart, that the " feelings of the injured husband may be more easily conceived than described." If he requires that phrase twice in the same narrative, he consents to vary it by saying, that " that they may be imagined, but cannot be depicted." In reporting an incident illustrative of the.fatal effects of taking prussic acid, he states that the " vital spark is extinct," and that not the smallest hopes are entertained of the unfortunate gentleman's recovery. A lady's bag is barbarouslyistolen from her arm by " a monster in the human form." A thunder-storm is de scribed as having " visited" the metropolis, and the me mory of the oldest inhabitant furnishes no parallel to the ravages of'the " electric fluid." A new actress " sur passes the most sanguine expectations" of the public, and exhibits talents " that have seldom been equalled, never excelled."' A new book is not simply published, it " ema nates from the press." On the demise of a person of eminence, it' is confidently averred that he had a hand " open as ; day to melting charity," and that , " take him for all in all, we ne'er shall look upon his like again." Two objects not immediately connected are sure to be " far as the poles asunder ;" although they are very easily brought together and reconciled in the reader's mind by the convenience cf the phrase " as it were," which is en especial favourite, and constantly in request. He is a great admirer of amsflitude of title, for palpable reasons; as when he reports, that " Yesterday the Right Honour able Lord John Russell, M.P., his Majesty's Secretary of State for the Home Department, dined with, &c." He is wonderfully, expert in the measurement of hailstones, and in the calculation of the number of panes of glass which they demolish in their descent. He is acquainted with the exact circumference of every gooseberry that emulates the plenitude of a pumpkin ; and can at all times detect a phenomenon in every private family by simply reckoning up the united ages of its various members. But in the discharge of these useful duties, for the edification and amusement of the public, he employs, in the general course of things, b ut one se t o f phrases. If a fire can be rendered more picturesque by designating it the " devour ing element," the devouring element rages in the descrip tion to the end of the chapter. Once a hit, always a hit; a good thing remains good for ever; a happy epithet is fe licitous to the last. The only variation of style that be can be prevailed upon to attempt, he introduces in his quotations. To these he often gives an entirely new as pect, and occasionally; by accident, he improves upon the originals. Of this; the following may stand as a speci men:--_ . _ "'Tis not in mortals to deserve success ; But we'll do more Sempronins, we'll command it." —Latnan Blanchard's Life and Remains. GLINTINGS OF THE SHANNON.--Yes! "spreading like a sea." So spake Edmund Spenser. We love the mightiest of British rivers for his sake. Who, indeed, that ha 3 wandered among its beautiful and winding lakes, its purple mountains, its banks and slopes of richest green, its imc . cerons and storied isles, that has mused onits mag nificent, rapids, and has rambled amid its ivy -mantled ruins, its dismantled castles, its wild dells and glens, its rocky headlands and promontories—but must feel delight at that " other brother" of Milton and Shakspeare, thus in one line, stamping with immortality our glorious tribu tary to the Atlantic. We love the Shannon for dear Una's sake, that child of light! when we remember that the poet has placed ber fabled residence, overhanging the most magnificent and beautiful pieces of scenery among its upper lakes ! Distinction meet, indeed, for its poetic grandeur, and investing its fairy legends, and lovely waters, with such a crowd of gentle and hallowed associa tions, of the Faerie Queen, that " divinest allegory," that we should not willingly exchange our liver of "quiet depths, and dark mementos," for any, the most crowded stream in the three kingdoms.—Dublin University Meg. LORD PALMERSTON AS A SPEAKER.—AII things taken into account, Lord Palmerston is, perhaps, the best deba • ter among the Whig leaders of the House of Commons. In the different qualities which, when combined,,go to render a man an orator, he is excelled by many indivi duals among his contemporaries. Lord John Russell shews more tact, more intimate acquaintance with party history (not with part'es, for, in that knowledge, Lord Palmerston beats all men living, having been a member of almost every government within the memory of man), greater skill in pointing allusions to the political errors of opponents, and altogether more refinement in the manage ment of his parliamentary case. In eloquence, both of conception or in delivery, Lord Palmerston is, of course, excellEd by Mr. Shell or Mr. Macauley, and even by men holding a far inferior rank as speakers. In soundness and vigour of argument he cannot stand a moment's compari son with Mr. Cobden or with Earl Grey (when that no bleman does justice to his own powers), or even with Mr. Charles Buller. Each speaker on his own side, in fact, is in advance of him in some particular quality of the orator. Yet no one would for a moment hesitate to place Lord Palmerston amongst the first speakers in the House of Com mons, or would deny that he had derived from hearing one of that nobleman's speeches as much pleasure, of its kind, as if be had listened to the most brilliant efforts of Mac auley, the most spirit-stirring of Shiel, or the most skilful and satisfying of Lord John Russell. The peculiarity in Lord Palmerston which gives him this singular power of charming with an oration as a whole, the several parts of which are not calculated to please, if critically analysed, is the thorough and hearty spirit of partisanship, not ma lignant, or angry, or mean, as is that of most zealous ad vocates of embodied opinion or interests, but frank, manly, open-hearted, and undisguised, so much so as to assume almost a sportive character, as if parliamentary politics were a mere pastime, a kind of relaxation from the heavier cares or labours of administration or of ordinary political life, in which all men are bound by a sort of mu tual compact, answering to the laws of a game, to exert their utmost powers to excel or to overcome each other, for the sake of the distinction and applause which are the reward of success.—Contemporary Orators, in Fraser. . _ How SHOULD WE DO WITHOUT A NEWSPAPER.— But with all its present imperfections and faul , s, the press is acceptable to society st large. No man except an op pressor likes to have anything to do with a lawyer, and he uses him only as a tool which it is unpleasant to handle. No man is willingly without a newspaper. Paley thought the rough disorder of English freedom, the want of cour tesy which is the national characteristic, and all the evils of warm political discussion, cheaply purchased by the amusement and instruction of a newspaper. Cowper de scribes it as : .. This 'olio of four pages, tappy work Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds Inquisitive attention while I read Fast bound in chains of silence, which the fair, Though eloquent themselves, yet fear to break ; What is it but a map of busy life, — Its fluctuation and its vast concerns !" But the folio of four pages has now swelled to a folio of eight pages, sixteen pages, and even twenty pages. Loco motion has scarcely improved more than newspapers since Cowper wrote, and is not more subservient than they are to the general welfare. Every man looks daily for his newspaper. Were the judges to abdicate, and the courts to suspend their functions, no man would at once miss and regret them, except for the loss of a column of amusement in the newspaper • but the day and the hour when the postman " with his twanging horn," " the herald of a noisy world," or the mail train leaving its great bags of almost a ton weight of letters, should go to its destination without newspapers, would be full of consternation. We cannot picture the general alarm, the fidgetty uneasiness of the merchant looking for accounts of the arrival of his ships, or of the state of the markets, on which his whole daily business is dependent; and the fright of the timid owner of public securities, or of the well-paid functiona ries of the government,—which would spread itself into in numerable conjectures as to what commotion could have laid an embargo on the newspaper. For the mail to ar rive without the journals, would be like the approach of day followed by no rising sun. Whenever the.fact is al luded to, every man becomes instantly sensible. that so ciety could not exist in its present wonderful ramifications without them. They are not merely the offspring of the na tural system of society, they are essential parts of it, which will outlive the throne and the peerage.—Jerrold's Mag. LIFE ASSURANCE.—The man of twenty-five years of age, young, strong, full of hope, and health, and vigour, thinks, perhaps, that he need not concern himself about life assurance at present, as he has a long lease of life be fore him. Let us see if this is a sound view which be takes of his own position According to the now well known value of life at different ages he may expect to live about thirty-seven years. Now, how many chances are there against his continujng regularly to set aside the annual sum he designs as a provision for his family, in the event of his decease, when he is not impelled by the the fear of loss in failing in his engagement with another party, by the formality of the contract between them, by the periodical demand of the company. If he hoards his savings, they will amount to little, compared with what an insurance company would give, and are 'liable to be continually encroached upon for trifling objects. His grand aim is to improve these savings as much as he can, ' with perfect security. Is he likely to be able to invest them from time to time so readily, or so securely, as -a company which receives them from him in small annual (or even quarterly) payments, and without trouble to him invests them safely and profitably ? And what bright prospect, what fair chance of health, long life, or good fortune, can be set against the moral certainty he acquires that those for whom he is anxious to provide are assured beyond all accidents or risks of the sum he is desirous to recure for them , even should he die the next day after having paid only the first annual payment 1 How many chances are there against his attaining the expectation due to his age ? Of every hundred persons of the same age, ten will be cut off in ten years. What assurance has he that he will not be one of the ten? In the next ten years eleven more will be gone to their graves; and at the end of the thirty-seven years, of the hundred who thirty-seven years previously were living men of twenty-five, only fifty-six (little more than half) will remain. Who, then, that would leave any one for whom he has a regard in dif ficulties were he cut off will be so rash as to delay insur ing because he has a chance of a long life. But this is not all. If he delays he may be attacked by disease. He will most likely have about nine weeks' sickness between twenty-five and thirty-five, the effects of which on his constitution may raise considerably the premium for in suring his life. Between thirty-five and forty-five be is liable to about twelve weeks' illness ; fifteen between forty:five and fifty-five. Lastly, should he have the sin 'Ruler good fortune to have all these chances turning in his favour, to attain a long life, to acquire independence, to have preserved good health, so that delay would not have increased his premium, he cannot be so selfish as to complain, when he receives a return but little short of what he has advanced, (with its compound interest,) or to grudge that little differ rice which has gone to alleviate the sufferings of oth who have been less fortunate, while he has so lar proportion of his payments re turned to him, and enjoyed so long the security he sought for his family or his old age.—Mr. Reid's Circular. SABBATH DESECRATION IN LONDON.—WE were both astonished and grieved to find the opening of places of bu siness on that holy day seemingly on the increase in Lon don. Net only cigar and snuff-shops, but common gro cers-shops, tea-warehouses, and the like, were carrying on sales—at least in the intervals of service • not to speak of those abominable hotbeds of misery, the gin-palaces. Piano-fortes, too, arc not rarely to be heard sounding by the street pedestrian, decency being only so far observed as respects the gravity of the sits bone to his ears. In the evenings, some of the suburbs of London present any thing but commendable scenes of moral instruction for youth. Near Primrose Hill, towards Hampstead, we re marked immense swings and circular hobby-horse ma chines, in full work on several Sunday evenings consecu tively, according, we believe, to an established custom. The frolickers here were chiefly boys, seemingly old enough to be apprentices to tradesmen and merchants; and we own that the recollection of George Barnewell came across our mind as we saw these lads paying their pence reiteratedly fora prolonged swing, and treating girls about their own age and standing to the same enjoyment. The flushed faces of most of the parties spoke also of their indulgences. At the same spot might likewise be seen youngsters, of lesser age generally, following the amuse ment of riding on asses, provided by men there for' a con sideration.' The galloppings over the short penny-course, the tumbles, the shouting, and the swearing which fell on the bearing on the occasion, formed anything but an agreeable subject of reflection. We ciamot but deplore the existence of such scenes as these, and think with omi nous regret of Paris and its open Sunday theatres, The description which Dr. Harris gives in his Christian Citi zen' of the desecration of the Sabbath in the metropolis is by no means too highly-coloured. Speaking of the many forma and sources of evil existing in London, he says—' But does not the return of the Sabbath form an exception to this state ? It does—but an exception of the most;fearful kind—for it consists in their state then being aggravated tenfold; 650,000 hunian beings then stand up and say in the face of heaven, There shall be no Sab bath. We will rest from our ordinary labour only to toil in sin—the flay shall be set apart to evil.' And in obedi ence to this fearful decree, issued as from the throne of wickedness, the temples of vice are early thrown open, and thronged with impious devotees : the press issues its weekly manual of slander and sedition, impurity and blas phemy ; every minister of evil is then in full employ, aided by numerous helpers, called in for the occasion. In many districts, the ordinary market is quickened into the bustle and riot of a fair; the quiet of the week is broken up by the carnival of the Sabbath; the great volcano of iniquity heaves, and rises, and discharges its desolating contents into the country for miles around ; every availa ble form of art is pressedinto the service of sin ; the whole satanic system of depravity is in active and universal ope ration; and vice holds its saturnalia. Such is their Sab bath state.' Let us hope and pray, that the progress of moral and religious education will soon change this fear ful state of things.—Hogg's Weekly Instructor. THE IRISH CHURCH Now AND FORTY YEARS AGO. —Looking back to the period when I was raised to the episcopal office, forty years ago, and comparing the in ternal condition of the Church now with what it was then, the improvement is most marked and gratifying. The growth in zeal, in diligence, in devotedness to their sacred employment, in earnest and laborious exertion on the part of the clergy, call for devout gratitude to Him from whom the ability comes, which has enabled them thus to will and to do of His good pleasure. Their increased attain ments in professional learning has been equally observ able, and .is to be traced to the efficiency of the divinity school in our university, and the care and labour there bestowed on the candidates for the ministry by the res pective lecturers, and especially by the learned and excel lent Regius Professor, who has so long presided over that school. The generally large and regular attendance of the people at our churches—the numbers habitually and de voutly approaching the Lord's table—the attention on the part of the parents in sending their children to be cate chised, and of the clergy in catechising, and in superin tending the instruction given in schools—all evince an awakened anxiety for religious improvement—all tend to assure us that we are not forsaken of God, but, we may humbly hope, are partaking of his favour and protection. * * At my advanced time of life, it may not be given me to see the day when the perils that surround the Irish church shall have disappeared, and the beams of temporal prosperity shine once more upon it. The clouds that now overhang and darken its worldly prospects may not be dispersed before my eyes are closed in death ; but if it should be so, I shall, nevertheless, bless God that the church which I leave in earthly troubles and adversity, is in a state of spiritual health, and life, and order, and de votedness, such as, I believe, never adorned it in any for mer period of its history. These are favours bestowed onus by God's mercy and goodness. These arsblessings which are not in the power of states to give or to take away. They are of higher value and nobler worth than any worldly prosperity.— The Primate's Charge at the Annual Visitation. kERSONAL APPEARANCE OF RONGE.—I was seated very nearly opposite M. Rong6, and had, consequently, a fair opportunity of making my observations upon his out ward man. In person he is about the middle stature, with handsome countenance, dark piercing eyes, and a fine head of long black hair ; but I searched his face in vain for any of those lines of thought produced by severe study and reflection. The expression was intelligent, but certainly not characterised by that earnest seriousness which might have been expected. The chair nan, rising, proposed to the company the health of their guest, and at the conclusion of his speech, placed upon his head a garland of flowers. _ Ronge then replied. He returned thanks for the enthusiastic reception he had met with, gave a detailed account of his progress through the vari ous towns he had recently visited, complimented - the company assembled upon its respectability and num bers, and said a good deal, the purport of which I could not at the moment catch, as he spoke with great rapidity and considerable gesticulation. When he bad concluded, dinner was served up, of which he seemed to partake with great avidity, the crown of flowers remain ing all the time upon his head. When the soup had been served, and the banquet was approaching its middle stage, I saw his next neighbour directing ttie attention of M. Rona to me, and 1 heard him whisper the name of my country. could instantly observe a sharp, quick glance of the eye directed towards me; but no further observa tion was made until towards the conclusion of the repast, when, after the greater portion of the assembly had dis persed, M. Ronge directed his conversation to me, and made many inquiries as to the exact condition of the Ca tholics in this country, which I an swered according to the best of my information. He carried on the conversation exclusively in French, which he spoke with the same fa cility as German ; and before we parted he presented me with a small volume of songs, composed by himself. — Dublin Untvereity Magazine. THE KETREAt THROUGH THE KOORD CABUL PASS. —A long tourney, indeed, and the real horrors of the Koord Cabul Pass, it yawned in terrific arandeur to re ceive them. On either side tremendous cliffs, huge masses of beetling rock overhanging the deep ravine, cast a sha dow over the road, " rough and narrow," which wound between them. . " --- At noontide there 'Twas twilight, and at sunset blackest night." And beneath, a fuaming torrent, unbound by the mighty frost, leapt wildly along, through channels of frozen snow. And above, around, on every side, the Affghan marksmen, perched aloft, with their unerring jezails, or lying in wait, on lower ridges, with their long sharp knives, looked wistfully down upon the doomed army, as slowly, confu sedly—a dense, undistinguishable mass of living matter— it streamed into the jaws of that mighty defile. * And on went the British army—an army no more—shut in between the impending walls of that grim, infernal pas sage ; now plunging through the impetuous mountain stream, now huddling on confusedly through the narrow defiles ; whilst thick and fast fell the deadly showers from the jezails of the Ghilzye marksmen. And there, through that dreadful pass, rode delicate English ladies, with ten der infants in their arms—rode through the thick fire of the enemy, on wretched ponies, or on jolting camels, or falling, with the beasts that bore them, shot down by the Affghan jezailchees, struggled on with rent and frozen garments, along the slippery snow, jostled and unregarded by the teeming multitude—stumbling over the stark bodies of the dying and the dead. There wretched Hin dostanee sepoys, soldiers no longer, threw away their arms and fled—seizing whatever cattle came in their way, casting away the baggage, ransacking it in search of food or clothing, riding on through the mass of camp-followers, and treading down all who came in their way. There wretched native women threw away their children to per ish in the snow, and hurried on, scared and panic-struck, till their limbs refused to bear them further, and they fell exhausted, agonised, to die the dreadful death of slow congelation. There naked Hindostanee camp-followers sunk down, maimed, crippled by the cruel frost, racked by the pains of hell—tbe devouring cold eating into their flesh, and turning it to rottenness before its time. And there, one on another, fast and thick, fell the bodies of men—soldiers and camp-followers, European and natives —beneath the murderous fire of the Gbilzyes, who lined that dreadful pass.—Long Engagements.—Chapman and Monthly Series. _ . . . INDICATIONS OF CHARACTER.—Becearia wrote against capital punishments. His servant read his book and stole his watch. How did the advocate for abolition il lustrate his argument ? He exerted himself in every way to hang the thief. At that moment he was correcting a second edition. Thus by an incident in his own life we, refute his book. Again, we are accustomed to think and read of Prince Eugene as a warrior and man of renown. He appears with Marlborough in the historical picture. What, then, is our astonishment to find him debating with Bolingbroke (who was anxious to conduct him im mediately to the queen) whether be could with propriety appear in a short periwig, his luggage not being arrived, and his efforts to borrow that equipment having proved ineffectual ! Or look at Pepys. We all know him to have been a frivolous gossiper about the court, a thinner kind of Horace and Walpole ; but the following circum stance reduces him to smaller dimensions than any criti cal compression could accomplish. A subject, that weighed heavily upon his thoughts during the great plague, was the probable fashion of periwigs after it should have abated, seeing that no one would dare to buy any hair, from the apprehension that it had been " cut off the heads of people dead of the pestilence." If we think very humbly of Pepys from this feature, we confess that Garth, the good-natured Garth of Bolingbroke and Pope, has sunk very low in our estimation since we read Gay's ac count of setting him down at the opera, and of his show ing his gratitude by a squeeze of the fore finger.—Fraser's Magazine. OUR OBSCURE KNOWLEDGE OF THE SPANISH PAIN.' TERS.—Seville was the great school of Spanish art, and this leads us to a subject of high interest—the pictures and collections of Spain. So little are they known beyond the Pyrenees, that Wilkie called the country " an unexplored territory, the very Timbuctoo of art ;" and evincing his estimate of its importance in this respect, adds, that " he reckoned the seven months and ten days he passed ifi Spain as the best employed time of his professional life. " Mu rillo is known by some few of his paintings in England; Velasquez, by name only ; of dark Rib?rs—powerful, but severe —" who painted," (says Allan Cunningham,) " Ixion on the wheel with such distressing force, as mis formed an unborn babe," not much is known beyond the name he goes by. " Spagnoletto," often appended to bad copies of him in catalogues ; nothing is ever heard of lii balta, the Domenichino of that country, or of Bicerra, who, as we learn from the last cited writer, wrought such a virgin, from a vision that came to him by night, as en raptured Queen . Isabella ; nothing of Morales, called, from his sweetness, the divine ; also of Alonzo Cano, the Michael Angelo of Spain; or of its Raphael, Juan Battista ; or of Roelas, the painter of the Jesuits ; or of Francesco Zurbaran, rated by Wilkie as next to Murillo, and often his equal; nothing of Gallegos, of ClauJio Cuello, or, among others, of Pedro de Campana, whose manner a good deal resembled that of Correggio. There is a picture by this master—the taking down from the cross—now in the cathedral of Seviile, beneath which Murillo was, at his own desire, buried. Such was his admiration of the work, that he had cften stood before it for hours, " wait-• ing," as he said, " until those men actually descended with the hod; of our Lord."—Dublin University. THE PROJECTED JEWISH COLONY IN THE HOLY LAND.-The Jews are willing to endure privations and hardships in order to secure their long-lost privileges —to be any thing or nothing, provided they can but tread on that consecrated ground, there to live and die. The hardships and severities which they have been of late years enduring in Russia, and which they still continue to, suffer in many parts of the continent, as well as in Asia and throughout the work!, and too well known to need any illustration. And were it only to be esteemed as :a work of philanthropy, restricted to them, it would be well deserving our consideration and countenance; for we can do nothing else - Effectually—nothing so surely calculated to better, and permanently raise the physical, intellectual, social, and moral condition of that people, as to gather them to a common centre. And where shall that rallying point be? Not in our own country. It cannot be any where but in their own chosen land, for which alone they have a settled and general desire, or will make any perse vering effort to congregate. It has been supposed by some that the poor Jews now resident in the Holy Land are averse to labour and industry, and will not till the soil, being mendicants alone by choice. The very reverse of this is the fact. It is their desire, if they cannot be come possessed of land, to earn their livelihood as their recompense for its cultivation. Though many of them are entirely devoted to religion, yet even those would re joice to be able to engage in agricultural employment. But they are too poor, and, deprecating their condition, can only pray for assistance. The first operations of the society might be directed to their establishment on the land, the expense of transit being thus saved. Besides, there are in the Turkish empire two hundred thousand, and in the neighbouring countries a greater number. who, with little expense might at once emigrate, according as tt.ey may be able and willing to do so, to their own ad vantage and that of the colony.—Extract from Report. - THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. EXTRACTS FROM THE LIFE OF GEORGE CANNING.* BIRTH OF GEORGE CANNING, AND CONDITION OF HIS PARENTS AT THE TIME. Mr. Canning soon got into debt again as deeply as ever; and, as if there were a fatality in his embarrassments by which he was predestined to Wear the heaviest responsi bilities at the times wheh be was least qualified to dis charge them, this was the moment he thought fit to become a husband. The excess of the imprudence seems to have fascinated his imagination. In this year, 1768, without any resources on either side, but his own poor allowance, or any prospect of increase, except the increase of expense, he married Miss Costello, an Irish lady of considerable personal attractions, and good family. Miss Costello, at that time residing with her maternal grandfather, Colonel Guydickens, was only eighteen years of age, extremely beautiful and captivating, but portionless. We hear no thing more of Mr. Canning's early attachment. It had either passed away, or been broken off, or it had faded in the light of the new and brighter enchantment. An alli ance formed under such inauspicious circumstances, so far as fortune was concerned, could not fail to exasperate the resentment of his family to the utmost ; it effectually crushed all hope of reconciliation. Mr. Canning never returned to Ireland, and never saw his father again. The only members of his family with whom he held any inter course after his marriage were his two brothers and his eldest sister. His union with Miss Costello awoke him to the neces sity of more energetic exertions than he had hitherto made in his flirtation with literature and politics, but they re sulted only in a succession of failures. The situation of this young couple, in the great conflict upon which they were cast, was painfully embittered by constitutional in aptitude for the worldly strife. Highly gifted, sensitive, and ambitious, they were dragged down into sordid cares which wounded their pride, and forced them to attempt means of extrication for which few people could have been so ill fitted. The close retirement.in which they found it necessary to live was cheered by the birth of a daughter ; but the child died early, and their pecuniary distresses now growing more urgent than ever, Mr. Canning, eager to embrace every hopeful opportunity that presented itself, tried several experiments in business. He set up as a wine-merchant. and failed, as might have been expected. Other speculations were entered upon with no better suc cess ; and in the midst of these overwhelming troubles, on the 11th of April, 1770, George Canning was born. He must have been a brave prophet who should have predicted that the child of such afflictions would one day be prime minister of England, yet this prophecy wtis actually made a few years later. According to some authorities, this event took place in Paddington ; others, with greater likelihood, assign the honour to the parish of Marylebone, where George Can ning was baptised on the 9th of the following May. The register of St. Clement, East Cheap, contains entries of the baptisms of several members of the Canning family ; but these were the children of Mr. Stratford Canning, the merchant, including Sir Stratford Canning, Mr. Charles James Fox Canning (for the merchant was a thorough Foxite), and others. THE CONVERT. The mass of the reading, writing, and speech-making public thought of nothing else, and during the first stages of the Revolution, the valour and devotion of the republi cans furnished the grand theme of admiration everywhere, in all companies, especially in the numerous debating so cieties, which at this period were the vents and safety valves of opinion. The young and unoccupied intellect of the inns of court found congenial employment in these stormy discussions, and here some apprentice politicians. who afterwards won a wider celebrity, first tested their powers, and .plumed their wings for more ambitious flights. Amongst them was a student of pale and thoughtful as pect, who brought to the nightly contests unusual fluency and grace of elocution. He, to 6, along with the rest, had been inspired by the heroic spectacle, had pondered upon its causes, and exulted over its prospects. His head was full of constitutions • for his studies lay amongst the ele mentary writers, rather than the special pleaders and the form-mongers of the law. And after a morning of close reading and severe reflection, he would wend his way in the evening to one of these debating-rooms, and taking up his place unobserved, watch the vicissitudes of the discus sion, noting well its effect upon the miscellaneous liste ners; then, seizing upon a moment when the argument failed from lack of resources, or ran into sophistry or ex aggeration, he would present himself to the meeting. A figure slight, but of elegant proportions; a face poetical in repose, but fluctuating in its expression with every fu gitive emotion ; a voice low, clear, and rich in modulation ; and an air of perfect breeding, prepares his hearers for one who possesses superior powers, and is not unconscious of them. He opens calmly—strips his topic of all extraneous matter—distributes it under separate heads—disposes of objections with a playful humour—rebukes the dangerous excesses of preceding speakers carries his -auditors through a complete syllogism—establishes the proposition with which he set out—and sits down amidst the acclama tions of the little senate. Night after night witnesses si milar feats ; at length his name gets out ; he is talked of, and speculated upon •, and people begin to ask questions about the stripling who has so suddenly appeared amongst them. as if he had fallen from the sky. But be does not confine his range to the debating socie ties, which he uses as schools of practice, and as places in which the nature of popular assemblies may be profitably observed. He is frequently to be found in the soirees of the Whig notabilities, where the aristocracy of his style is more at home than amongst the crowds of the forum. Here his' cultivated intellect, and fastidious taste are ap preciated by qualified judges; and these refined circles cry up his accomplishments as eagerly as the others have ap plauded his patriotism. Popularity besets him on both sides. The societies look to him as a man formed ex pressly for the people ; and the first Lord Lansdowne (stranger still) predicts to Mr. Bentham that this strip ling will one day be prime minister of England 1 He is plainly on the high road to greatness of some kind; but how it is to end, whether he is to be a martyr or a minis ter, is yet a leap in the dark. The crisis approaches that is to determine the doubt. While he is revolving these auguries in his mind, and filling his solitary chamber with phantoms of civic crowns and strawberry leaves, flitting around his head in tantalis ing confusion, a note is hurriedly put into his hand, with marks of secrecy and haste. It is from one of whom he has but a slight personal knowledge, but whose notoriety, if we may not venture to call it fame, is familiar to him. The purport of the note is an intimation that the writer desires a confidential interview on matters of importance, and will breakfast with him on the following morning. The abruptness of the self-invitation, the seriousness of the affair it seems to indicate, and the known character of the correspondent, excite the surprise of the law student, and he awaits his visitor with more curiosity than he chooses to betray. A small fresh-coloured man, with intelligent eyes, an obstinate expression of face, and pressing ardour of man ner, makes his appearance next morning at breakfast. The host is collected, as a man should be wl.O holds him self prepared for a revelation. The guest, unreserved and impatient of delay, hastens to unfold his mission. Among the speculators who are thrown up to the surface, in great political emergencies, there are generally some who are misled by the grandeur of their conceptions ; and who, in the purity and integrity of their own hearts, cannot see the evil or the danger that lies before them. This was a man of that order. He enters into an animated descrip tion of the state of the country, traces the inquietude of the people to its source in the corruption and tyranny of the government, declares that they are resolved to endure oppression no longer, that they are already organised for action, that the auspicious time has arrived to put out their strength, and ends by the astounding announcement, that they have selected him—this youth who had made such a stir amongst them—as the fittest person to be placed at the head of the movement. Miracle upon miracle ! -The astonishment of the youth who receives this communica tion may well suspend his judgment : he requires an in terval to collect himself, and decide ; and then, dismissing his strange visitor, shuts himself up to think. In that in terval he takes a step which commits him for life. It is but a step from Lincoln's-inn to Downing-street. His faith in the people is shaken. He sees in this theory of re generation nothing but folly and bloodshed. His reason revolts from all participation in it. And the next cham ber to which we follow him, is the closet of the Minister, to whom he makes his new confession of faith, and gives in his final adherence. Reader, the violent little man was William Godwin, the author of the " Political Justice," and the convert was George Canning. TUE ANTI-JACOBIN. The first number of the " Anti-Jacobin," or " Weekly Examiner," was published on the 20th of November. 1797. The avowed purpose of this journal was to expose the vicious doctrines of the revolution, and to turn into ridicule and contempt the advocates of them in this coun try. The work originated with Mr. Canning, who wrote the prospectus, and contributed some of its ablest articles. Mr. Gifford was the editor, and amongst the writers were Mr. John Hookham Frere, Mr. Jenkinson, Mr. George Ellis. Lord Clare, and Lord Mornington. afterwards Mar quis Wellesley. It occupied the opposite ground to that which had formerly been taken up by the " Rolliad" and the " Probationary Odes," but " with a difference." The wit and vigour (and scurrility) of the " Anti-Jacobin" left behind, at an immeasurable distance, the gentlemanly satire of the Whigs. Wherever the wit of the " Anti-Jacobin" is irresistible, the reader may conclude that he has detected the hand of Canning ; but there was such a copartnery in tbese things, and such a disinclination to separate each person's share, even were it possible to do so, that, with some marked exceptions, the authorship cannot now be ascertained with certainty. The work closed in 1798, and during its brief existence, Mr. Canning wrote largely for it. His connec tion with it was well known at the time, nor was he ever disposed to disavow it. He declared in Parliament, ten years afterwards, that he had no other source of regret for the share he had in it, except the imperfection of his pieces. But what that share • was is to a great extent a matter of conjecture, to be determined by internal evidence. CANNING ' S DEVOTION TO PITT. Mr. Pitt had been taunted by*Mr. Grey for his apostacy on the question of parliamentary reform ; an apostacy ren dered the more glaring on this occasion by the fact that one of the persons whom he had just dragged to prison for agitating that question—John Horne Tooke—had formerly been his own associate in the very same cause. " William Pitt, the reformer of 1782," exclaimed Mr. Grey, " was now the prosecutor, ay, the persecutor of reformers." There was no possibility of turning aside this accusation. It was drawn from circumstances too notorious to admit of evasion. Mr. Canning met it boldly, and declared that [* This work forms the present month's publication of Messrs. Chapman rind Hall's excellent Monthly Series of Bio graphy and Romance. It contains many circumstances con nected with the life of its distinguished subject, Geo. Canning , which are not only interesting, but perfectly new to us. We look to the next number to furnish us with much matter. which will be peculiarly acceptable to our readers, relating to his con nexion, as member, with the interests of the town of Liverpool.] he entirely agreed with Mr. Pitt, that though such a re form might not be improper for discussion in time of peace, yet it was a proposition that ought not to be agi tated in times of tumult and storm. As to the change in opinion, be had no hesitation in saying that if Mr. Pitt in future should return to his former opinion, it was probable that he might again agree with him. These declarations on the part of Mr. Canning, extra ordinary and extravagant as they are, can scarcely be re garded as involving any specific principles. They must be looked upon rather as declarations of adhesion to Mr. Pitt. He felt himself bound to support the ministerial policy as a whole ; that was essential to what be believed to be the true interests of the country; and he knew that the slightest misgiving, the least wavering, or exercise of individual judgment, might be productive of the most serious mis fortunes. The practical question arising out of such a line of conduct, concerns, in effect, not the particular vote, but the obligations understood to be imposed by all party alliances. The character of the compact is clear. We have seen the ministerial majority turned round, like a troop of horse in the amphitheatre, upon the selfsame question, and re voking their own decision of the night before, at the bid ding of the minister.* This is an extreme case (such a one as it is reasonable to hope, for mere decency, may never happen again) ; but it illustrates the action, and discloses the real nature of a party compact. The united body must move together—there must be no straggling—no hanging back or breaking line for the pursuit of honest crotchets—there must be a total surrender of opinion —a tacit submission to orders—no man must think for him self—individual convictions must be sacrificed to unity of purpose. It is upon this principle the papal power has maintained itself so wondrously against the broken and scattered assaults of independent reason, pushing its con q nests silently by the mere force of the wedge, which keeps its place because there is no equal and uniform pressure by which it can be dislodged. This (happily uncommon) exploit occurred in the session of 1845, on the Ten Hours' Bill of Lord Ashley, and has oc curred also on some occasions in radical administrations. The devotion of Mr. Canning to Pitt, and adhesion to him in his changes of policy, appears to us greatly to resemble the feeling and conduct of our present Conservative nujority to their leader, Sir Robert Peel. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. LIVERPOOL NATIONAL STEEPLE-CHASE. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 4. _ _ _ FIFTY SOVEREIGNS, given by the Earl of Sefton, to a Sweepstakes of 10 soya. each, 5 ft. One mile. 7 subs. Mr. It. J. Mostyn's b c The Premier, 3 yrs.. Williams 1 Lord Howth's ch h Switcher, 5 yrs Wynne 2 Mr. Binnie's b f Apparition, 3 yrs The Poor Soldier. Camelia, Rosina, and L'HirondeLe c also started.—The Premier took the lead, was never head ed, and won easy by a length. THE GREAT NATIONAL STEEPLE -CHASE, of 20 sovs. each, 10 ft. with 100 added. Four miles. Mr. Adams's b g Pioneer, 6 yrs, list 121 b Taylor 1 Mr. Payne na ch g Culverthorpe, aged, list 41b.Rackley 2 Lord Howth's ch h Switcher ; 5 yrs, 12st 41b .. Wynne 3 Firefly, Cure-all, Regalia, Eagle, Golden Pippin, Major A, Troubadour, Carlow, Brenda, Tivderbor, Mameluke, Peter. Simple, Homihiharriho, Lancet, Pickwick, Veluti, Perambulator, Scavenger, and Lady Grey also started. Peter Simple took the le ad, followed by Veluti and Fire fly. Culverthorpe was first over the last hurdle, when Pioneer came up, went away from his horses, and won by three lengths, with the greatest ease. 200 to 10 was laid against the winner the evening before. A FREE HANDICAP HURDLE RACE. of 10 EIOVS• each, 5 ft., with 50 added. Two miles, over six hurdles. Mr. E. R. Clarke's b h Sir Edward, lOst 2lb .. Oliver 1 Capt. Campbell's b h Crcesus, list 12Ib ..... . Bradley 2 Pedlar, New Brighton, Clear-the-Kitchen, Everton, Quicksilver, Chintz Print, Single Peeper, Sands, Artist, Grace Darling, Alice, Artful Dodger, and Violet also ran. Artful Dodger made the running for the first mile, when Crcesus, Sir Edward, and Pedlar went on with it to the distance, where Pedlar made his effort but failed, Sir Ed ward winning a most excellent race by half a length. HOOTON PAP K STEEPLE CHASES. FRIDAY, MARCH 6. A SWEE PSTAKES, of 20 sovs. each, h ft, with 100 added by Sir William Massey Stanley, Bart., 12st each, three milee over a fair bunting country. Lord' Howth's Switcher Captain Peel 1 Marquis of Waterford's Firefly Barton 2 Lord Glamis's Eugene Sue .. ...... Owner 3 Lord Maidstone's The Kicker .. Owner 4 Marquis of Waterford's Regalia.... The Kicker led at a rattling pace the first time round, where he was headed by Eugene Sue ; Regalia was run ning well, when he fell ; a splendid race home between Switcher and Firefly, Switcher winning cleverly. The Marquis of Waterford, in consequence of being thrown from Regalia, had his shoulder knocked out. Sir Wm. Massey Stanley's surgeon was on the ground, and his lordship's shoulder having been re-set, he was to be seen on the ground enjoying himself as if nothing had taken place. Prince George of Cambridge was on the ground, along with a great number of nobility. A SWEEPSTAKES, of 10 sovs. each, with 50 added by Sir W. M. Stanley, Bart. 12st each.- Mr. Dicken's Lucy Long . Captain Brooke's b g Jack Price...... Captain Glover's ch m Prejudice.... Mr. Robertson's gr g Tinderbox.... Ramill was objected to as a professional jockey. Tin derbox fell twice at the two first fences. Prejudice, who was winning in a canter, fell at the last fence but two, tumbled head over heels, and lost all chance. Barton claimed the stakes, on the ground that the other two jockeys were professional. A SWEEPSTAKES, of 5 sovs. each, with 20 added. Mr. Thomas's Single Peeper .. Mr. Matthew's br g Salopian Mr. Henderson's Ellen M'Gregor Mr. Massey's b g Landercan A splendid race between the first three. A grand steeple-chase is to take place on the 19th April in the vicinity of Paris, for which are entered the extra ordinary number of forty-two horses, many of them being our most celebrated English steeple chasers. WATERLOO COURSING MEETING. TUESDAY AND THURSDAY. MARCH 3 AND 5. THE WATERLOO CUP. Lord Eglinton's Rufus beat Mr. Donning named Clara Mr. Harper's Reserve beat Mr. Slater's Rocket Mr. Smyth's Sherwood beat Mr. Malpas's Lapwing Mr. Ardern's Nimble beat Mr. P. Taylor's Tiny Salute Mr. Barge's Harlequin beat Mr. A. Graham's Concession Mr. Kirkby's Slane beat Mr. Blundell's Brewer Mr. Ballis Best Bower beat Mr. Davies's Dangerous _ _ Mr. Bennett named Camera beat Mr. Jepson's Peter Mr. O'Grady's Othello beat Mr. Eden's Original Captain Daintree's Probity beat Mr. Bake's Coriolanus Lord Eglinton's Bessy Bell beat Mr. Deakin's Young Lill Mr. O'Grady's Oliver Twist beat Mr. Ridgway's Renown Mr. Swan nd Engineer beat Mr: Langtry's Star'of Erin Mr. Jebb's Lapwing beat Mr. Garven's Higbflyer Mr. Pollock's Faugh-a-ballagb bt Mr. Bagge nd Tricksey. Second Ties. Rufus beat Reserve ; Sherwood beat Nimble; Harlequin beat Slane; Best Bower beat Agnes; Camera beat Othello ' • Bessy Bell beat Probity ; Oliver Twist beat Engineer ; Faugh-a-ballagh beat Lapwing. Third Ties.—Sherwood beat Rufus; Harlequin beat Best Bower ; Camera beat Bessy Bell; Oliver Twist beat Faugh-a-ballagh. Fourth Ties.—Harlequin beat Sherwood ; Oliver Twist beat Camera. Deciding Course.—Mr. Barge named Harlequin beat Mr. O'Grady's Oliver. Twist. THE ALTCAR STAKES. Rocket beat Clara ; Lapwing beat Tiny Salute; Con- cession beat Brewer; Canino beat Dangerous; Original beat Peter ; Young Lill beat Coriolanus ; Renown beat Star of Erin ; Tricksey beat Highflyer. Second Ties.—Rocket beat Lapwing ; Canino beat Con cession • Original beat Young Lill; Tricksey bt Renown, Third Ties.—Canino bt Rocket; Original bt Tricksey. Deciding Course.—Original beat Canino. THE WATERLOO PURSE. Mr. Craven's Clarina beat Mr. Bake's Plakelev Lass Mr. Garven's Heels beat Mr. Ardern's Matchless Lord Eglinton's Bellona beat Mr. Ridgway's Romulus Mr. Robinson's Scotia beat Mr. Ball's Rapid Mr. Swan's Snapdragon beat Mr Graham's Rebecca's Daughter Mr. Jebb's Lodore beat Mr. Smyth's Sam Slick Captain - Daintree's Varna beat Mr. Eden's Eleus Mr. Deakin's Derwent beat Mr. Bagge named Tripod. Second Ties.—Clarina beat Heels ; Scotia beat Bello. na Lodore beat Snapdragon ; Derwent beat Varna. Third Ties.— Clarina beat Scotia ; Derwent beat Lodore Deciding Course.—Derwent beat Clarina. Harlequin, the winner of the Waterloo Cup, is, we be• him, the property of Mr. Philip Sampson, of this town. ALTCAR CLOSING MEETING.—Through the kind per mission of the Earl of Sefton, the 19th and 20th are hit upon to wind up the season on his popular domain. The programme shows not less than six prizes —four sixteens, and two for eight dogs. COINCIDENCE.-At the Steeple Chase, on Wednesday, it happened that the name of < the winning horse of the first race was " Premier," and that of the second race " Pioneer;" the name of the former horse signifying first, that of the latter—to go before. EXECUTIONS AND MURDERS IN LANCASHIRE.—In the twenty-one years ending December, 1833, there were in Lancashire 107 executions (an average of five yearly) of which twenty-four (not one-fourth) were the penalty for murder—the rest being mostly for offences not now ca pital. Of 104 committals for murder, in the same county, only 25 convictions end, 64 were acquitted, and the rest were pronounced ins e. One of the greatest impositions practised at the present day by shopkeepers, not only in London, but in every city and town throughout the kingdom, is that of forging the property of another, and imposing on the public the forged article with all the assurance of innocence. We allude in.the present instance to those admirable requisites for the toilet. the Macassar Oil, Kallidor, and Odonto, as prepared by the Messrs. Rowland, and which, from their merits and reputation, are the constant objects of fraudulent imitation. The parties so counterfeiting con coct some trashy compounds resembling in appearance Messrs. Rowlands' articles, and by ad opting the very same names and copying the labels and bills, endeavour to pass off their trash as the " genuine" Articles, reckless of the injury which they will inevitably inflict on those who are deceived by using them. We should have ima gined that English tradesmen, whose reputation for honour and integrity is proverbial, would not have stooped to the meanness of so base and paltry an action. Nevertheless we know for certain, that such is the case, and we would advise all patrons of Messrs. Row lands' Articles to purchase only of respectable vendors— and particularly to observe the Caution in the advertise ment which frequently appears in our paper. March 10, 1846. 13 w05, iflarriages anb Bratigs. BIRTHS. Lately, at Kelso, Mrs. FORREST, who had completed her. a n.s2snody year, and whose youngest child was twenty yeas old, o f On the 21st ultimo, at Great Bardfield, Essex, Mrs. JAME,” S . MILBANK. of a daughter ; and, on the 25th, of another dauge ter. The distance of time between the birth of these twins, the mother, in the meantime, being as well as could possibly be. expected after giving birth to a child, is considered an extraor dinary circumstance. On the 22nd ult., at Shillinglee-park, the Countess of WIN' TERTON, of a daughter. On the 3rd instant, at Nantwich, the lady of WM. KENT, Esq., surgeon, It N., of a son. On the 4th instant, in Albemarle-street, London, the lady of THOMAS WELD BLUNDELL, Esq., of a daughter. Same day, the wife of Dr. ASHCRFT, of St. Anne-street , of a daughter. On the 6th instant, the lady of JAQUES MYERS, Esq., of South Bedford-street, of a daughter. Same day, at the Vicarage, Carnarvon, the lady of the. Rev. T. THOMAS, vicar of Llanbeblig, of a daughter. MARRIED. On the 12th January, at Quebec, Mr.JOHN HENRY CLINT, to MARY ANN WHITTAKER, eldest daughter of the late Mr. WILLIAM WHITTAKER, of this town. On the 23rd ultimo, at St. George's. Hanover.square, Lon don, the Rev. LOW RIE GUTHRIE, rector of cran!ey, t° KATHERINE BLANCKE, daughter of THOMAS STAKKII S , Esq., Q.C. . . On the 24th ultimo, at St. Nicholas's Church, LEWIS, SOIL of L. HUGHES, E-q., of Tranmere-view, Higher Trannaeree Cheshire, to MARY, only child of the late J. A,KEW, Esq. On the 25th ultimo, at Annan, Mr. JOHN PEIL, of Kirk" dale, near this town, to ALJtXA. third daughter of the late GEORGE BELL, Esq., writer, Ecclefechan. On the Ist instant, at St. John the Baptist's Church, Mr' JOI BRADLEY to MARY, daughter of Mr. S. ROBINSON. of Blair-street. Same day, at Trinity Church, Mr. JOHN NICHOLSON td ANN, daughter of Mr. TAYLOR, of Woodchurch, Cheshire. On the 2nd instant, at St. Philip's Church, Mr. L. ARS' , STRONG, of Kendal, to Mrs. ANN WAINWRIGHT. Same day, at Llanbadrig, Anglesey, R. ROBERTS, Esq., Ina' nager of the North and South Wales Bank, Holyhead, t° EMMA, daughler of W. JONES, Esq of Buarthyfoel. On the 3rd instant, at St. John the Baptist's Church, Mr. ch THOMAS to• Miss ELLEN PARRY. Same day, at the Holy Trinity Church, Wavertree, by the , Rev. W..Badnall, WILLIAM PENNANT, eldest son of Mr. Jr• WILSON, of Wavertree, to ANN BIRD, daughter of the late Mr. L. STUBBS, of this town. Also, at the same time, JOSEPit BENNETT, son of Mr. W. HAWKINS, of her Majesty's CO' toms, to MARGARET, eldest daughter of the aforesaid Mr. J. WILSON, of Wavertree. On the 4th instant, at St. Nicholas's Char.'', in this town. Mr. SAMUEL SKERMER, of App'eby, Leicestershire, • W SARAH, fifth daughter of the late JOHN SKERMER, E 544 of Belton, Leicestershire. Same d a y, at Ruthin,iir. T. COTTON, chemist and druggis t ' to Miss MADDOCKS, daughter of Mr. Madducks, manager of • the North and South Wales Bank. On the sth instant, at St. George's Church, Everton.la• GEORGE BENNETT, to Miss PHCESE DAVIES, of tlr Commercial Hotel, Dutton-street. Same day, at St. John the Baptist's Church, JOHN OTTO WILLIAM, son of the late WILLIAM FABERT, Esc] of Riga, to ELLEN, eldest daughter of RICHARD WRIGH T '. . Esq., of Tosteth-park. Same day, at St. Philiip's Church, FREDERICK WHIT' TALL, Esq., to MARY, daughter of WILFRED TROUTBECKs Esq. Same day, at St. Silas's Church, by the Rev. R. Davies, KA' Mr. JOSEPH B. HIGNETT, second 80111 of the late Mr. WO' HIGNETT, of this town, to FRANCES, secocd daughter of JOHN HERD, Esq., merchant, of this town. Same day, at Edinburgh, by the Rev. Dr, Candlish. the Ker . DONALD FERGUSSON, of St. George's Presbyterian Church,. Myrtle-street, to CATHERINE, youngest daughter of the le a Lieut.-Col. WILLIAM BALFOUR. On the gth instant, at St. Bride's Church, by the Rev..l. Stewart, JAMES WADDELL, Esq. wine merchant, to HArl - , • NAH, second daughter of Mr. THOMAS PAGE, engineer. DIED. On the 24th December, at Dhoolia, Captain FREDERICK JACKSON, of the Bombay Native Infa n t r y, y oung e s t son of the late Rev. GILBERT JACKSON, D.D., Rector of Donheade St. Mary, Wilts. On the 25th December, at Ferozepore, of the wounds he re" ceived at the battle of Ferosehah, in the 30th year of his age , Major A RTHER WILLIAM FITZt - ZOY SOMERSET, of the Grenadier Guards, Military Secretary to the Governor-Genera l of India, and eldest son of Lord Fitzroy Sotherset. On the 19th ultimo, W. FERGUSON, Esq., Governor of Sierra Leone colony, and its dependencies, who died on his passag e home, on board the Funchal!, off Madera. On the 20th ultimo, at Mill-hill, aged 45, HENRY HAZELE Y HOLM, Esq., Hendon, many years the pupil of the late D. Spurzheim, and known to the faculty as one of thd first anato mists of the brain. On the 20th ultimo, aged 3 years, WILLIAM HENRY, an d on the 4th instant, aged 5 years, THOMAS, sons of Mr. • USEIERW 00D, upholsterer. On the 21st ultimo, at Manchester, aged 22 years Mr ROBr PHILLIP EVAN oungestly son of the late Rev. Richar d Evans, mission the Paarl, South Africa. On the 24th ultimo, at Torquay,Devonshire, the Rev. ARTHUR HOLMES, Rector of I'Lmpleharvy, King's County. On the 25th ultimo, at his seat, Sweetbriars Lodge, Tramo l aged 86 years, G. ROCHE, Esq., o f G reenag h C as tle, ne w Waterford. _ On the 26th ultimo, in the Queen's Prison, London, where he had been confined seven years for a contempt of court, Mr' THOMAS WOOD, formerly solicitor of Wolverhampton. ..,A On the 27th ultimo, at Leamington, War w ickshire, SOPti,t; MARIA WEST, of Upper Grosvenor.street, London, daughts of the late Colonel West, of the Ist Regiment of Foot Guards , and sister of Admiral Sir John West, K.C.B. On the 28th ultimo, at Palermo, near Bray in his 90th Yea r ' the Rev. Sir S IMUEL SYNGE HUTCHINSON, Bart. Same day, at the residence of her aunt, Mrs. Hughes, StaMP t " office, Holywell, in the 25th year of her age, MARY, elde b daughter of the late Mr. JOHN EVANS, Kinerley, Shropshire. f Same day, at Underwood, paisley, JAMES ORR, Esq., Crofthead, joint patentee with Mr. Smith, of DCallStoll, self-acting mule. • WE Same day, at his cottage, Hampste a d -roa d, London, 10 f 78th year, EDWARD FAIRFAX, E sq ., R .N., f ormer ly master 0 the Channel Fleet under Earl St. Vincent. Ogg Same day, at the Royal Mint, Lond on , i n hi s 36th year, , ORDE OMMANNEY, Esq., fifth son of the late Sir Frau ,— Molyneux Ommanney. eldest Same day, aged r 9 years, WILLIAM WILKINS°, N son of Mr. ATKINSON, late Head Master of the Free Gramme r School, Blackburn. a ged 1 3 On . the ist instant, at the reside nce of h i s father. Aw. years, THOMAS, last surviving s on o f Mr. THOMASr, LINSON, cooper, Head street, Toxteth-park. On the 2nd instant, JOHN PEMBERTON , E sq ., W ine an t spirit merchant, of this town, and C ounc ill or f or Rodney-etrr. Ward. The deceased met 11 a death un d er c i rcums tances pain:ully distressing nature. It appea rs th at h e was out riclin± at Sandiwayhead, near Delamere Forest, about five miles fr° 6 7 Chester, on Saturday week, when the horse, a very spir it animal, gave a sudden plunge, and threw him upon the Pot an t lie of the saddle. Mr. Pemberton was so seriously injured 10 lower parts of his body, by the force with which he (*aloe _A contact with the pommel, that he was obliged to be convell' without delay to his cottage at the forest, where medical I d surgical assistance was promptly rendered him. He cont lo° _ to languish, however, in excruciating agonies, until BOON when death terminated his sufferings. Mr. Pemberton via a d gentleman highly respected in Liverpool for the uprightnes s , his character through life, and the gentleness of his demeaned, was formerly in partnership with Mr. Green, now of 1 1: 5 cross-street, but since the dissolution of partnership he he, carried on the wine business on his own account. His t relo . , choly and unexpected demise is dee9iy regretted by all class: of the commercial public. He was elected memb er f o r Rode% street Ward in November 1844, so that a new e l ec ti on will 1 1 '" have to take place for that ward. A flag was flying from 1 1.; front of the Town-hall last week, in testimony of respect I, the memory of the deceased. On the 4th instant, MARGARET, d aug ht er o f the 190 Captain GEORGE RAVELEY. Same day, at Everton, in his 61st yea r , th e R ev . CHAR-LO S ~ THOMAS GLADWIN, minister of St. M art i n ' s- i n- th e -Fielcn. On the 6th instant, at her son's house in Stafford.str ee g MARGARET, wife of Mr. FRANK BUNNELL, aged 59 ye of, • On the 7th instant, suddenly, at her residenee. 38/Winu s sr, street, aged 73, Mrs. P. A. JACKSON, re li c t o f the late Richard Jackson, Surgeon, Belton, Yorkshire. Sta rr' Same day, at her son's residence, aged 60, _Mrs. T. „ef TLEWORTH, widow of the late Mr. T. Shuttieworth,J°'" and builder, Wakefield. - Same day, aged 39, Mr. HENRY WILKINSON, coach sPl i4 maker. RAILWAY TRAFFIC RETURNS. (From the Railway Magazine of Saturday.) 1, 45 'Passen- .„,oney. Cor.wk• nif, t NAME. 1 gers. ''''' lastyeari - --- -- - ,1 Arbroath and Forfar Birmingham and Gloucester.. II Chester and Birkenhead ....1 521 4 1 Dublin and Drogheda Dublin and Kingstown — 9 3 9 4 Dundee and Arbroath .. 4624 274 252 % Durham and Sunderland .... 4176 756 686 6 Edinburgh and Glasgow ..... 2155 4k Eastern Counties. . . Glasgow and Ayr 14996 1849 1547 5k Glasgow and Greenocl - 11902 784 754 ..... Grand Junction* — --. Gravesend and Rochester 5506 136 _ ... Great North of England Great Western 41079} 15300 12725 „. Hull and Selby — Hartlepool Dock and Rail. Liverpool and Manchester London and Birmingham — 25601 ,5; London and Blackwal I 42 7 16 727 707 5 1 London and Brighton London and Croydon 15699 1211 812 , London and Greetiwiell — 9 Southwestern 1 5783 430 5 6 Manchester, Bolton, and Bury 945 866 6 Manchester and Eirmin2,llo.m.% 4108 3245 Manchester and Leeds and 8 Hull and Selby — 5414 52 04 tt Midland Counties Newcastle and Darlington .. 2628 1028 S Newcastle and CarliJe — 41 Newcastle and North S:oeicia 20308 462 37 3 1 Norfolk I 5718 1256 101 6 North Union — 1297 0 Paris and Orleans Faris and Rouen 17155 5238 3 6 Preston and W 3 iv Sheffield and Manche:her South Eastern .... Taff Vale .. Ulster — 57 0 -' Yarmouth and Norwich York ane North Midland 13928 4457 101 0 NOVEL EXHIBITION. —A gratuitous exhibitionr, been opened in the town-ball of Manchester. as cu ab ° as it is unexampled —an exhibition of all the false and measures seized by the Manchester police. t ele!! NATURAL PRODUCTIONS OF BORNEO.--AlTlOngSnoPe.' are :-firstly, minerals ; say gold, tin, probably evo;cilll antimony ore, and fine white clay for pipes. ,„ OW; vegetables, woods of the finest descriptions , I °;figti,,, l building and other purposes ; besides aloes woo d aloes), and araog or e bo n y wood, ca nes and rattan 5 s ae; these may be added, in the vegetable productionstrowil compon, rice, &c. The wild nut m eg was foun d , g ric e s li b c on the islands of Sadung and Sumpudin in aboneebrodio perfection, proving that by cultivation it might be 0;0 into the market as'cheap, and probably as goo 8 d, _„joie, produced in.the Moluccas. We have various sPc'pron of ores and stones', which, on being tested, r e9 o Y o3 p o 7 valuable commodities. Amongst these is clec ticle s granite rock, I believe, containing minute W e d to, I, what we conceive to be gold, and an ore belie v _ e hitaf r o copper. Besides the articles above enumerated, and otho`o nests and bees'-wax in considerable quantities, L O S o fil not worth detailing here. We have been able , t he 0 0 0 residence among the Bormeans, to continu e „ow friendly terms w ith th em , an d t o o pen a field ° "" P for our subsequent inquiries io the proper ficas pees Expedition - to Borneo. AA tory from to. lA lat Eliba rorti Th, ttkair awa y Th, Short to Gr Bar Sir at d o. Ant t t i t Slat Jan cia, Co; River T he al as bell , Arta itYrie Iro n , ' Lam s , SAIL A R ni .arst Nvac f an 17Om lIC Gr ace, L h h a n k , S 1 e BAli Henri keit 10a( Zoe, i China. s sivira James Aionte John ''"Lrkbay tutu,' ' E eidiu Uni on El~ Z nil eat A 2,1,; 41 tur i k ra i in c : 4 117 °— , 41:'e. r eeill t 417 1 : 3 3 ' fro' ro_4l er St a St .•