The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1853-11-08 00:00:00

L O UISE Dear, sweet Louise, So formed to please, And yet so coy, love! 'Bow blest that smile of thine, Enchantress mine ! It gleams With light and silvery beams Of joy, love ! De r, bright Louise, Thou born to teaze— Dear, kind Louise, Thy sympathies With pity glow, love ! how soft those eyes of thine, Enchantress mine! y el As if, in tears, they felt t For woe, love ! Liverpool, Nov., 1853. So fresh, so fair, love 1 How red those lips of thine, Enchantress mine! What bliFs To plant my ardent kiss ! Ah—there, love! Dear, fond Louise, Upon my knees, Now bolder grown, love, I claim that heart of thine, Enchantress mine ! It's beat Doth ever bound to meet My own, love ! HENRY GRAZEBROOK, REVIEWS OF BOOKS. illackwood's Magazine. Edinburgh : Blackwoods. The justly-deserved popularity which this Maga 2ine has acquired and so long maintained, has attached a more than ordinary interest to its ap pearance every month at the head of our periodical literature. The number for November opens with a review of " Haydon's Autobiography," which has been recently published, and in which some curious particulars are given of that fanaticism for Art - which characterised that self-praised but unfortu nate man. " Brute Life in th e Alpi ne R eg i ons ' Contains some interesting particulars of the animals of Switzerland, from a recent work by a member of the Swiss Society of Naturalists. The next article, on " The Romans in Scotland," we may pass over as a tribute to national enthusiasm, 'which will be better appreciated on that side the - Tweed. " Athens in 1853," affords some interest ing information on a country which is perhaps less down in the present than for the glories of the past, but which may yet occupy a more prominent position, as Turkey experiences the decay which seems inevitable. In A few more words on University Reform," we have some judicious com ments on those alterations in the system produced at Oxford University, which are more needed than those recommended by Her Majesty's Commis sioners ; and no doubt they will receive attention by those who can render reform more efficient than the men who have tried their hands at it. From " Our Commissioner in Paris," who gives us an entertaining description of his visit of inspection, we extract the following episode, characteristic of "French love of military glory, and yet a proof of England's triumphs, which occurred at THE HOTEL DES INVALIDES. Whether the old warrior who did the honours on this occasion was a chosen representative of his class, we do not know, but he had the politeness of a marshal of Louis XIV., and the information of a member of the Institute. The little biographical hints he gave of the different go vernors of the institution, when we entered the room adorned with their portraits, were very short, sharp, and -- decisive. Some of the older race, dukes and marquises who had obtained the office by their influence and rank, be passed over with a magnanimous disdain, merely enu imerating their na mes and titles,—but when others of -more distinction came under his notice, he sounded forth , 'the names of their victories as if they had only recently appeared in the Gazette ; and this is a peculiarity which ; we observed among all classes of the French population. They seem to keep a catalogue of their glories from Cha ions to Isly, and remember the smaller actions of Conde and Turenne with an accuracy which few Englishmen of a humble class possess of Salamanca or Waterloo. In the Arlapel are suspended flags of all nations conquered in war. There are standards of Austria, and Prussia, and Russia, rid Africa in great profusion. We lo o k e d ' round with great satisfaction as we failed to discover the Union Jack --among these spoils of victory.—" You don't happen to have any English specimens here ?" we asked with a ' chuckle, which we felt at the moment was horribly impolite. "Look," he said, "high up, just under the roof"—and there we certainly saw a small bit of bunting which it - was impossible to mistake for anything but the meteor flag. "And how and where was that taken ?" we inquired, somewhat crestfallen. "It was seized at Dantzic," he replied, "when we took Monsieur Corbet prisoner." There was nothing more to be said; we had never beard of any battle or victory at Dantzic; but then we are so apt to forget those military events, and the French are so accurate. We had and have no books of reference ; lint we heard from a friend that the flag fell into the bands of the French when they garrisoned Dantzic at the time of the Moscow campaign, and it had formed part of the colours of a mercantile brig, at that time in the har bour, commanded by a skipper of the name of Corbet. But our venerable guide seemed to fo rg et Vitt or i a an d Waterloo when gazing on this proof of his countrymen's prowess ; and as it was the only one they could show, we were well pleased to leave him to his triumphant medi tations. After a second part of " The Narcotics we indulge in," which was commenced some months since, and which contains much valuable information on Opium and Hemp, and their uses and abuses, the number concludes with " A few facts concern ing the Turkish question." It gives a plain recital of the leading incidents of the qaarrel, and having shown the almost insuperable difficulties which Russia would have to encounter before she could obtain possession of Constantinople, " the most important position in the world, and the easiest to defe n d," ma k es the following remarks on THE PROBABILITIES OP WAR IN runway. The ambiguous and undecided attitude of Austria and _Prussia renders it difficult to speculate on results in the case of the war on whose verge Europe apparently now totters. When Vienna conferences abruptly terminated, Olmutz and Warsaw interviews began, and it is impossible to say how far the arguments, energy, and moral superi ority of the Czar may have influenced Prussia's wavering king and Austria's youthful emperor. The mere fact of _these monarchs having hesitated to take a side, the neu trality they from the first attempted, the proposal of Austrian mediation, and the adhesion of Prussia to the Conference, sufficiently prove their real conviction as to what are their own interests and those of the countries theynce reign over. H a d th ey had a doubt they would at ohave declared themselves for Russia. But the course that common sense and sound policy suggest to them, is a strict union with the Western powers, than whom they are certainly not less interested in preventing that destruc tion of the balance of power in Europe which must result from Russia's obtaining Constantinople. What does Russia care for the Danubian provinces, save as a step toward the attainment of her one great aim, the possession of the Turkish cap i tal —which is at once the key of the Black Sea and of the 'Mediterranean, and the passage be tween those se as ? Constantinople is the one great object on which her eyes have for more than a century been covetously fixed. If she be allowed to stretch her Power that far south, none will be able to prevent her afterwards extending it both east and west. And she will become as dangerous a neighbour for Austria as she -at present is for the decayed empire of the Ottomans. If Russia persists in her aggression, which we stand believe that she will, and if Austria and Prussia aloof, which we doubt their doing should war break out, the contest can hardly be of long duration. The part taken in it b y F rance and England will be chiefly mari time. The Black Sea swept of Russian vessels, all its Ports garrisoned or blockaded, an Anglo-French army of . ' moderate size s u p por ti ng t h e Turks, and occupy i ng R o dosti on- the Sea of Marmora, French and English officers assisting the Turkish leaders with their counsels—such are the steps that will obviously• first be taken. But it would be madness on the part of Russia to accept the struggle unless Austria and Prussia were with her. In that case, indeed, the war would assume a terrible and deplorable character : throughout Europe the democratic party would raise its head ; Hungary and Lombardy would be quickly in arms ; Germany and Italy would be the battle-fields, and who shall foretel the issue of the strife ! For whatever evils may arise out of the present critical _conjuncture, as well as for the prolongation of a state of suspense, which, in many respects, and especially i commercial point of vi ew , i s near l y as prejudicial as war itself could be, Europe is indebted to the weakness of Lord Aberdeen, and to the servility of his supporters in the Cabinet. If Russia now gives way, she would mani festly have done so four months ago, had England then shown herself determined to oppose her aggressions. But the political predilections and illegitimate manoeuvres of the Premier, and the feebleness and incapacity of the Present Foreign S ecre t ary have prolonged the crisisand encouraged Russia ; and if war occurs, at their door it will lie—the sole compensation being that they have at last shown themselves in their true colours, and utterly disgusted the country i n w h ose government th ey h ave ill. advisedly been permitted to share. -Letters from Egypt, Ethiopia, and the _Peninsula of. Sinai. By Dr. Richard Lepsius. London : Henry G. Bohn. These letters form the chief literary results of a scientific expedition, despatched by the King of Prussia, in 1842, for thepurposeof exploring the Nile valley, and investigating the architectural and other i nomments with which that valley is so copiously + ched ; and which, in th e i r m y s t er i ous an d su b- 'le magnitude and durability, convey to us the earliest, and almost the only historical data by which we are enabled distinctly to trace the dawn ,and progress of human civilisation. The author of t he letter s , Dr. Lepsius, was the individual to .Lvriern the chief direction of the Prussian expedition was entrusted, and the volume before us bears maple testimony to the judgment, intelligence, and tsiduity he devoted to the objects of his mission. letters are written in a familiar style, and are ZZessed o f a ll the freshness and minuteness which I,eZeterise sketches drawn on the spot, having dun desp atched to Europe from time to time b et Zg a period ex t en di ng from September 1842 to raeilt Tu s her 1845, and they are descriptive of monu the i i .v441 1, according to the doctor, indicate nearly ° g r easive hiAtory of man, from a period of k, 4 3 0 00 years antecedAnt to the birth present ti ' almost, it may be said, to the embracing, as they do, brief but country, Zreounts of th e p resen t s t a t e o f that exp e di tion w its works of recent institution. The among its the e in all respects complete, including cenc es An s i °lll Nnent members individuals learned artists, architecture and archaeology, gentl eman vit , al l° , in the learned doctor himself, a id the an ti q, added to the methodical patience " 111( 1 171 arY the profound erudition of the scholar, and the irrepressible enthusiasm of the devotee. In the course of those extensive as well as minute investigations undertaken and perfected by this expedition, many important discoveries were made, and much information acquired, tending to elucidate doubtful points of historic allusion, and to afford data by which to conduct the researches of future explorers. Among 'others of what (for want of a better term) we must call the antique novelties brought to light by the researches of Dr. Lepsius, is one which, in a physical point of view, must be regarded with much interest. At Semneh, in Nubia, nearly in 22° N. lat., the party disco vered what the doctor designates as THE OLDEST NILEOMETER IN TILE WORLD. The Nile is here compressed within a breadth of only about 1,150 feet, between high rocky shores. On both sides there are ruins of old temples of the 18th dynasty. But these were not the earliest buildings which were erected here. We found a considerable number of inscrip tions from the 12th and 13th Manethonic dynasties, especially on the large foundations of the Temple of Kummeh, situated lower down, opposite Semneh, on the eastern bank, as well as on the scattered rocks on both banks in the neighbourhood of that temple. Many of them were intended to indicate the highest risings of the Nile during a series of years, especially in the reigns of the Kings Amenemhe 111. and Sebekhotep 1., and by comparing them we obtained the remarkable result, that about 4,000 years ago the Nile used to rise at that point on an average 22 feet higher than it does at present. At the end of the volume, we have a very eru dite and interesting paper, from the pen of Mr. Leonard Horner, in the form of an appendix upon this change of level in the waters of the Nile, in which that gentleman displays much geological learning, and in which also, with praiseworthy caution, he inculcates the propriety of not being carried away too easily, to a conclusion so important as that involved in a change so marked and exten sive, in the level of the Nile-bed, within the historic period. However willing we may be to follow Mr. Horner in these his interesting speculations, we are warned that the more ostensible object we have in view is to trace the progress and note the dis coveries of Dr. Lepsius, a better summary of which could not be given than that which is contained in the " Prospective Review " for May, 1850, in which the writer succinctly says of our author, "He has discovered undescribed pyramids, equal in number to those known before ; has traced the Labyrinth, and ascertained its founder.''' Important as such facts undoubtedly are to the superintendent of an antiquarian exploring expedi tion, they do not constitute the only claim the doctor has upon the general reader ; on the con trary, his letters abound with scenic descriptions of great fidelity, and are interspersed with reflec tions of more than passing interest ; as a specimen, take his delineation of A VIEW PROM THE GREAT PYRAMID OE CHEOPS. The panoramic view of the landscape spread out at our feet riveted our attention. On the one side the Nile valley a wide sea of overflowed waters (it was during an inundation), intersected by long serpentine dams, here and there broken by villages rising above its surface, like islands, and by cultivated promontories filling the whole plain of the valley that extended to the opposite Moqattam hills, on whose most northerly point the citadel of Cairo rises above the town, stretched out at their base. On the other side, the Lybian desert, a still more wonderful sea of sandy plains and barren rocky hills, boundless, colour less, noiseless, enlivened by no creature, no plants, no trace of the presence of man, not even by tombs ; and be tween both, the ruined Necropolis, whose general position and simple outline lay spread out clearly and distinctly as on a map. What a spectacle, and what recollections did it call forth ! When Abraham came to Egypt for the first time, he saw those very pyramids, which had been already built many centuries before his coming. In the plain before us lay ancient Memphis, the residence of the kings on whose tombs we were then standing ; there dwelt Joseph, and ruled the land under one of the most powerful and wisest Pharoahs of the newly-restored monarchy. Further away, to the left of the Moqattam hills, where the fruitful low ground extends on the eastern arm of the Nile, be yond Heliopolis, distinguished by its obelisk, begins the blest region of Goshen, out of which Moses led his people to the Syrian desert. It would not, indeed, be difficult from our position to recognize that ancient fig-tree on the road to Heliopolis, at Matarieh, under whose shade, ac cording to the tradition of the country, Mary rested with the infant Christ. How many thousand pilgrims of all nations have since visited these wonders of the world down to ourselves, who, the youngest in time, are yet but the predecessors of many other thousands who will suc ceed us, ascend these pyramids, and contemplate them with astonishment. I will not describe any further the thoughts and feelings which agitated me during these moments. There, at the goal of the wishes of many years, and at the same time at the commencement of our expedition ; there, at the summit of the Cheops Pyramid, to which the first link of our whole monumental historical inquiry —not merely for the history of Egypt, but for that of the world—is immoveably attached ; there, where I looked down upon the wonderful field of tombs, from which the Moses'-wand of science now calls forth the shadows of the ancient dead, and causes them to pass be fore the mirror of history, in the order of their time and rank, with their names and titles, and with all their pecu liarities, customs, and surrounding accompaniments. Delineations of scenery, and reflections on its associations, are not the only means adopted by Dr. Lepsius to convey an idea of the present con dition of the Nile valley, he likewise gives spirited sketches of its natural history, and occasionally treats his readers with a clever portrait of some of its inhabitants. As an example, take the following CHARACTER OP THE ARABS. There is a curious mixture of noble pride and vulgar avarice to be found in the Arab, which is at first quite incomprehensible to the European. Their free, noble bearing and imperturbable repose appear to express nothing but a proud sense of honour ; balanced, however, against the smallest gain of money, it melts away like wax before the sun, and the most contemptuous treatment is not taken into consideration, but is borne with the most crouching servility where money is in question. We might, at first, imagine one of these two natures to be hypocrisy, or dissimulation ; but the contradiction returns too often in all forms, both great and small, not to lead to the conviction that it is characteristic of the Arab, if not of the entire East. Even as early as in the days of the Romans, the Egyptians had so far degenerated that Am mianus Marcellinus could say of them, " He among them blushes, who cannot show many strokes upon his body, for non-payment of tribute ;" and in the same manner the fellah to-day points, with a contented smile, to his scars as soon as the tax-gatherer has withdrawn, who, in spite of his instruments of torture, has been curtailed of a few piastres. This work, by the learned Prussian doctor, not only throws much light upon the antiquities of Egypt, but it likewise conveys important informa tion relative to the geographical position and peculiarities of the peninsula of Sinai, and contains reflections deduced from observation on several of the most interesting events of Jewish history, particularly those connected with the Exodus of that remarkable people. The volume, which has been skilfully and cleverly translated by two ladies, Leonora and Joanna B. Horner, daughters, we believe, of Mr. Leonard Horner, already referred to, is illustrated by several maps and pictorial illustrations, and is altogether a valuable accession to Mr. Bohn's Antiquarian Library, of which it forms a portion. The Public and Domestic Life of the _Right Hon. Edmund Burke. _By Peter Burke, Esq. Lon- don : Ingram, Cooke and Co. This volume, a very elegant one by the bye, is intended to supply a deficiency in English bio graphical literature, by furnishing a clear and continuous memoir of Edmund Burke, hitherto a desideratum so far as the general reader is con cerned. Memoirs of the great statesman and transcendant orator are no doubt numerous enough; but these are generally confined to his political movements and associations, conveying little know ledge of his private character, and almost no infor mation relative to his domestic life and history. In the present memoir these latter considerations form a prominent and interesting part, which is elaborated with skill as well as tact. As in the other biographies of Burke, a considerable portion of this one is also devoted to a consideration of the probable share, or entire claim he tad in the author ship of the mysterious " Letters of Junius," a politico-literary enigma which seems to have no great chance of a satisfactory solution. One re mark of the present biographer connected it is subject is worthy of notice , although brief; is simply "curious enough, nearly every one charged with being Junius was really an intimate of Burke's," a circumstance in itself no doubt re markable, and one which, in this memoir, is made, to some extent, corroborative of the suspicion that Burke was in reality connected with the author ship of the l e tt ers . A mon g the valuable sayings of Burke quoted in the volume before us, is part of a speech delivered in the House of Commons, de scriptive of the patch-work Cabinet of Lord Chatham. How applicable is it to the Mosaic ministerial array which now marshals under the banner of the Earl of Ab er d een P Th e d escr i p ti on by Burke is as follows, and may be entitled— A PRIME MINISTER AND HIS HETEROGENEOUS AIDS. I am afraid to flatter him ; I am sure I am not disposed to blame him. Let those who have betrayed him by their adulation, insult him by their malevolence. But what I do not presume to censure, I may have leave to lament. For a wise man, he seemed to me, at that time, to be governed too much by general maxims. I speak with the freedom of history, and I hope without offence. One or two of these maxims, flowing from an opinion not the most indulgent to our unhappy species, and surely a little too general, led him into measures that were greatly mis chievous to himself, and for that reason, among others, perhaps fatal to his country—measures, the effects of which, I am afraid, are for ever incurable. He made an administration, so chequered and speckled ; he put to gether a piece ofjoinery : so crossly Indented and whimsi cally dovetailed; a cabinet so variously inlaid; such a piece of diversified mosaic ; such a tesselated pavement without cement, here a bit of hlacketone, and there a bit of white; patriots and courtiers, king's friends and re publicans, Whigs and Tories, treacherous friends and open enemies, that it was indeed a curious show, but utterly unsafe to touch, and unsure to stand on. The colleagues whom he had assorted at the same boards stared at each other, and were obliged to ask—" Sir, your name ?"—" Sir, you have the advantage of me."—" Mr. Such-a-one, I beg a thousand pardons." I venture to say it did so happen, that persons had a single office divided between them who had never spoke to each other in their lives, until they found themselves, they knew not how, pigging together, heads and points, in the same truckle-bed. Could the present ill-assorted boards be more appositely described, or their peculiarities of non agreement more felicitously hit off? The biogra phy contains numerous instances happily illustra tive of Burke's social habits and disposition ; yet, on the whole, it is, like most of its predecessors, chiefly filled by illustrations of his public life, clearly showing that, however interesting in itself may be the quiet domestic life of a public man, home, the temple and sanctuary of domestic exis tence and delight, must yield the palm to those more striking displays which fill the eye and ear of a great people. The volume before us, which is both cheap and beautiful, as well as interesting and well-written, is profusely embellished with portraits of Burke's contemporaries, and with views of scenes and localities in which he dwelt or took an active interest. It is a book replete with amuse ment of a high order, and full of instruction. The Rhine. By Victor Hugo. To which is added A Guide for Tourists on the Rhine. London : Ingram, Cooke, and Co. In this little and cheap volume, which is pro fusely illustrated by clever wood engravings, the Rhine is invested with all that intensity of romantic and historical interest which the enthusiasm and skill of so great an adept in romantic art as Victor Hugo could bring to bear on its traditions and its physical beauties and peculiarities. Added to M. Victor Hugo's work is a brief " Tourist's Guide" to the Rhine, in five chapters ; this will prove a useful, as the preceding will prove an exciting, portion of the work. SERIALS.—The Lover's Magazine, No. 1, a well-intentioned advocate of the law of kindness. -The Protestant Magazine, No. 179, a zealous and unflinching supporter of Protestant truth. The Bulwark, No. 29, a keen and able expositor of popish intolerance and trickery.-The Ragged School Union Magazine, No. 58, a useful collection of facts and speculations connected with the opera tions and purposes of ragged schools.-The Christian Family Advocate, No. 17, a miscellany devoted to the combination of religious feeling with secular business and amusement. The People's Magazine, and the Working Man's Friend, No. 1. The working man has now so many friends, that we suspect his capabilities of selection to be greatly overtaxed in determining his choice. This new friend professes to give counsel which shall improve the working man as an inhabitant of this world and an heir of eternity. THE LIVERPOOL STANDA RD, AND GENERAL COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER. VARIETIES. ME MAN who was struck with astonishment caught hold of a link in the chain of circumstances, and has quite recovered. "FIRST CLASS IN MUSIC stand up. How many kinds of metre are there ?" " Three, sir ; long metre, short metre, and meet her by moonlight alone." SERENITY OF MIND 15 nothing worth unless it has been earned : a man should be at once susceptible of passions, and able to subdue them. COME HERE, SONNY, and tell me what the four seasons are." "Pepper, mustard, salt, and vinegar—them's what mammy always seasons with." " Mary, put that boy to bed; he is so sharp he will cut somebody.' A LOVE SCENE.—Overheard and phonographically re ported by Frederick Phinephun :—" Phairest of the phair," sighed the lover, " phancy my pheelings when I phoresee the phearful consequences of our phleeing phrom your phather's phamily. Phew phellows could have phaced I the music with as much fortitude as I have ; and, as phickle phortune phails to smile on our loves, I phind I j must phorego the pleasure of becoming your husband. Phairest Phrances, pharewell phor ever." " Hold, Pprank lin, hold !" screamed Phrances, " I will phollow you for ever." But Phranklin had pilled, and Phrances phainted. "THE SCHOOLMASTER AEROAD."—A letter, of which the following is a literal copy, was received at the Retford police-station a few days ago, from a tradesman at Wellow. We ought to say that the scribe himself is a baker, other wise our readers might, perchance, fail to ascertain its meaning :—Oct. 15-1853.—Sir hi sent to you the peck And hark' peck Mechers And Beem to Bee Made Right Pies to due them to day Plees to send the 2 pees of leed Bak Ass theay was not weeghts theay was put in for to Hay lowe for waste in Backin.—Polis Stasinon Retfor. THE DEACONS "down east" have a bad practice of snoring aloud whilst asleep in church, which appears to disturb some folks here. The Boston Bee has the follow ing polite notice for one of them :—" Deacon —is re quested not to commence snoring to-morrow until the sermon is begun, as some persons in the neighbourhood of his pew would like to hear the text." A YOUNG LADY'S DILEMMA.—At a temperance meet ing in London, lately, an incident occurred which occa sioned some mirth. In consequence of the remarks made by Mr. Fry on the subject of courtship, a note was handed up to him as follows :—" I have a lover who is a moderate drinker, If I discard him, will you warrant me a tee totaller in his stead ?" After the laughter occasioned by the reading of this had subsided, Mr. Fry advised the lady by no means to discard her lover, but to use all her in fluence to make him a teetotaller. He thought that if she used a little address, and exercised a little patience, she would win her lover before 1853 expired. ELOQUENCE OF A YANKEE THIINDERER.—One Paul Denton, a Methodist preacher in Texas, advertised a bar becue, with better liquor than usually furnished. When the people were assembled, a desperado in the crowd cried out, Mr. Paul Denton, your reverence has lied. You promised us not only good barbecue, but better liquor. Where is the liquor ?" " There !" (answered the mis sionary in tones of thunder), and (says a Yankee contem porary) pointed his motionless finger at the matchless double spring, gushing up in two strong columns, with a sound like a shout of joy from the bosom of the earth. " There !" he repeated, with a look terrible as the light ning (while his enemy actually trembled on his feet), "there is the liquor which God, the Eternal, brews for all His children ! Not in the simpering still, over smoky fires, choked with poisonous gases, and surrounded with the stench of sickening odours and rank corruptions, doth your Father in heaven prepare the precious essence of life, the pure cold water ; but in the green glade and grassy dell, where the red deer wanders, and the child loves to play—there God brews it ; and down, low down in the deep est valleys, where the fountain murmurs and the rills sing ; and high upon the tall mountain tops, where the naked granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm cloud broods and the thunder-storms crash ; and away far out on the wide, wild sea, where the hurricane howls music, and the big waves roar the chorus, sweeping the march of God—there He brews it, that beverage of life, health-giving water. And everywhere it is a thing of beauty ; gleaming in the dewdrop ; singing in the sum mer rain ; shining in the ice gem, till the trees all seem turned to living jewels, spreading a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon ; sporting in the cataract; sleeping in the glacier; dancing in the hail showers ; folding its bright snow curtains softly about the wintry world ; weaving the many-coloured iris, that seraph's zone of the sky, whose warp is the rain-drop of earth, whose woof is the sun-beam of heaven, all checkered over with the celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of refraction. Still always it is beautiful—that blessed life-water ! No poison bubbles on its brink ; its foam brings no madness and murder ; no blood stains its liquid glass ; pale widows and starving orphans weep no burning tears in its depths ; no drunkard's shrieking ghost from the grave curses it in words of eternal despair ! Speak out, my friends ; would you exchange it for demon's drink, alcohol ?" A shout like the roar of a tempest answered, "No !" A PYRAMID IN CALIFORNIA.—The Placerville (Cali fornia) Herald gives the following account of the dis covery of a pyramid in California :—A party of men, five in number, had ascended the Colorado for nearly two hundred miles above the mouth of the Gila, their object being to discover, if possible, some large tributary from the west, by which they might make the passage of the desert, and enter California by a new, more direct, and easier route, inasmuch as there are known to exist nume rous small streams upon the eastern slope of the moun tains, that are either lost in the sands of the desert or unite with the Colorado through tributaries heretofore unknown. They represent the country on either side of the Colorado as almost totally barren of every vegetable product, and so level and monotonous that any object suf ficient to arrest the attention possesses more or less of curiosity and interest, and it was this that led to the dis covery and examination of this hitherto unknown relic of a forgotten age. An object appeared upon the plain to the west, having so much the appearance of a work of art, from the regularity of its outline and its isolated position, that the party determined upon visiting it. Passing over an almost barren sand plain, a distance of nearly five miles, they reached the base of one of the most wonderful objects, considering its location, it being the very home of desola tion, that the mind can possibly conceive of, nothing less than an immense stone pyramid, composed of layers or courses of from eighteen inches to nearly three feet in thickness, and from five to eight feet in length. It has a level top of more than fifty feet square, though it is evi dent it was once completed, but that some great convul sion of nature has displaced its entire top, as it evidently now lies a huge and broken mass upon one of its sides, though nearly covered by the sands. This pyramid differs, in some respects, from the Egyptian pyramids. It is, or was, more slender and pointed ; and, while those of Egypt are composed of steps or layers, receding as they rise, the American pyramid was, undoubtedly, a more finished structure. The outer surface of the blocks was evidently cuttoanan re g g l uia e, rthatsurface gave f t r h e e m st t r o u p ct t u e rt otm. when complete, the present smooth or present level of the sands that surround it, there are fifty two distinct layers of stone, that will average at least two feet ; this gives its present height 104 feet, so that before the top was displaced it must have been, judging from an angle of its sides, at least twenty feet higher than at present. How far it extends beneath the surface of the sands it is impossible to determine without great labour. Such is the age of this immense structure, that the per pendicular joints between the blocks are worn away to the width of from five to ten inches at the bottom of each joint, and the entire of the pyramid so much worn by the storms, the vicissitudes, and the corrodinge of centuries, as to make it easy of ascent, particularly upon one of its sides. We !say one of its sides, because a very singular fact connected with this most remarkable structure Is, that it inclines ten degrees to ope side of the yertial or perpendiettiar. ADVERSITY Is A SCHOOL, in which both private per sons and public societies have learned the most heroic virtues. _ _ A QUEER SOCIETY has been formed in Philadelphia, called the " Broken-hearted Club." Its members are a sad set of miserable dogs, who may have been used badly by the world, and whose only consolation will be the re cital of their mutual sorrows. METHOD OF WOOING AND WEDDlNG.—Marriage is preceded by two other ceremonies, the first of which is Thin Manock, Tagal words, signifying or meaning " the cock looking after his hen?' Therefore, when once a young man has informed his father and mother that he has a predilection for a young Indian girl, his parents pay a visit to the young girl's parents some fine evening ; and after some very ordinary chat, the mamma of the young man offers a piastre to the mamma of the young lady. Should the future mother-in-law accept, the young lover is admitted, and then his future mother-in-law is sure to go and spend the very piastre in betel and cocoa-wine. During the greater portion of the night, the whole com pany assembled upon the occasion chew betel, drink cocoa-wine, and discuss upon all other subjects but mar riage. The young men never make their appearance till the piastre has been accepted, because in that case they look upon it as being the avant-courrier—that is, the first and most essential step towards their marriage. On the next day the young man pays a visit to the mother, father, and other relations of his affianced bride. There he is received as one of the family ; he sleeps there, he lodges there, takes a part in all the labours, and most par ticularly in those labours depending upon the young maid's superintendence. He now undertakes a service or task, that lasts, more or less, two, three, or four years, during which time he must look well to himself; for if anything be found out against him he is discarded, and never more can pretend to the hand of her he would espouse. The Spaniards did their best to suppress this custom, on account of the inconveniences it entailed. Very often the father of the young girl, in order to keep in his service a young man who costs him nothing, keeps on this state of servitude indefinitely, and sometimes dis misses him who has served him for two or three years, and takes another under the same title of pre'tendant, or lover. But it also frequently happens that if the two lovers grow impatient for the celebration of the marriage ceremony, for "hope deferred maketh the heart sick," some day or other the young girl takes the young man by the hair, and presenting him to the curate of the village, tells him she has just run away with her lover, therefore they must be married. The wedding ceremony then takes place without the consent of the parents. But were the young man to carry off the young girl, he would be se verely punished, and she restored to her family.— Twenty Years in the Philippines. RUSH ROADS IN AIISTRALIA.—Let me first state what a road is. • It may be aptly compared to a geometrical line; it has length without breadth or thickness. Ido not say a straight line, for it is by no means the nearest way between two points. A road is the most vile of sub lunary deceptions. A will-o'-the wisp is something; a ship's track through the waves has a transient existence ; but an Australian road is an abominable nonentity. When you are told you cannot possibly miss your road, be assured of the truth of it, for there will be no road to miss ; look forward confidently to an agreeable night " by moonlight alone," about which I could "tell you a tale," but that I don't like to be talking about myself. What do you think of the following for a direction ? Squatter, standing at his hut door, with one arm stretched out before him, loquitur : " Take that rise on the other side of the creek, and it will bring you on to an open plain ; go straight on for about a mile, and you'll see a belt of timber on your right ; make a cut through it till you come to a swamp; go on beyond that for three miles, keeping the sun on your right shoulder, and you'll see a large mob of wild cattle ; leave them 9n your left, and keep on, head ing the gullies, till you come to a camping ground ; there will be a flock of sheep somewhere in the neighbourhood, and the shepherd will put you on the right track. You can't miss it." Thank you, so much for roads. Not that a creek is different ; not but that some creeks are roads, and some roads are creeks—nay, I have ridden along a plain level road that was a river. But, generally speaking, a creek is different from a road. A creek is an indenta tion in the ground, into which, if it should happen to rain heavily, water would probably run and remain there till it is dried up. And in this consists the difference between a creek and a gully ; the gully being more or less on a slope, the water would not remain in it, but flow down somewhere else. It is easy to understand, then, what a creek or gully is (and a river is just the same, except that you will seldom follow the course of a river for a mile or so without meeting with a water hole) ; but the difficulty is to know what is not a creek, or gully, or a river. You may be told that, after passing two creeks, you will come to a certain but ; and yet, in your humble and innocent opinion, you may have erossed a dozen creeks, and not have reached it. I am not yet deep enough in the mys teries to say when a creek (crick or crink, I think, must be the correct orthography) is not a creek, and a gully (or gull-ye) is not a gully.—Australian and New Zealand Gazette. _ _ JENNY LIND'S FAILURE AND TRIUMPU.—The circum stances, too, of the failure were singularly trying. She was announced to appear as Agatha, in Weber's Fries chutz, a character she had long regarded as that in which her ability would be genially tested. To it her young ambition had long pointed, and with it her artistic sympa thies were familiarly identified. The hour came, and that wonderful and delicate instrument, that as a child she had governed so adroitly, that it seemed the echo of her mind, that subtle medium through which her feelings had been wont to find such ready and full vent, refused to obey her will, yielded not to the pleadings of love or ambition, was hushed as by some cruel magic, and Jenny Lind was mute, with anguish in her bosom, her friends looking on in tearful regret, and her maestro chagrined beyond description 1 Where had those silvery tones fled ? What catastrophe had all at once loosened those invisible harp strings ? The splendid vision of fame, of bounteous pleasure, of world-excited sympathy, and of triumphant art, disappeared like the gorgeous cities seen by the tra veller, from the Straits of Messina, painted in tinted vapour on the horizon. Jenny Lind ceased to sing, but her love of art was deepened, her trust in nature un shaken, her simplicity and kindliness as real as before. Four long years she lived without the rich promise that had invested her childhood, but, with undiminished force of purpose, she studied the art for which she felt herself born with patient, acute, earnest assiduity, and then another and blissful episode rewarded her quiet heroism. The fourth act of Robert le Diable had been announced for a special occasion, and it so happened that, in conse quence of the insignificant role of Alice, consisting of a single solo, no one of the regular singers was disposed to adopt the character. In this emergency Berg was re minded of his unfortunate pupil. She meekly consented to appear, pleased with an opportunity to be useful and oblige her kind maestro. While practising this solo, to the delight and astonishment of both teacher and pupil, the long-lost voice suddenly re-appeared. It seemed as if nature had only withdrawn the gift for a season, that her child might gather strength and wisdom to use it effi ciently, and in an unselfish spirit, and then restored it as a deserved recompense for the resignation and truth with which the deprivation had been borne. We can fancy the rapturous emotions of the gentle votary that night when she retired from the scene of her new and unanticipated triumph.—Tuckerman's Mental Portraits. THE MOTIVES OP MARY QUEEN OP SCOT'S MISCON STRUED FESTIVITIES. — The festivities which moved the ire of Master John Knox took place just before Lent, always the close of the court season in Edinburgh during the brief bright days of Mary Stuart's widow reign. Her enter tainments in the February of 1564 were more than usually brilliant. "So soon as her Grace had recovered health," writes Randolph, " she determined with herself to pass her time in mirth, and such pastimes as were most agree able for that time approaching Shrovetide Her Grace sent for the most part of her nobility to be here against Sunday last. She made them so solemn a banquet that the m 'age of a prince, or the like , was not seen. Both day as in Scotland, in the r emem brance of man, exce p t a t were little inferior to the first." The the object days of following thet banquets was neither revelling nor idle will between lately discordant powers, on whose union the dissipation, but the re - establishment of peace and good tranquillity of the realm depended. A political crisis of no ordinary interest had occurred. The deep-seeing Earl of Moray, having formed an accurate estimate of the popular influence of John Knox and the strength of his faction, had effected a reconciliation with him during the long and dangerous illness of the Queen. Moray had united with Lethington and Mary's other ministers in the judicious measure of taking her out of a bed of sickness to expose her to the agitation of a personal discussion with the most ill-mannered person in her dominions, and then, instead of supporting her, had championised her adversary. The affront Mary had received from her Privy Council on that occasion was followed up by a formal requisition for her to abstain from practising the rites enjoined by the religion in which she had been nurtured. Mary, not con sidering the thorny diadem she Wore worth the sacrifice of a compromise of conscience, offered to resign her office to Moray, and in the bitterness of her heart commanded him to take the thankless burden on his own shoulders." Such was, indeed, the desire of his soul, but the hour was not yet come for its accomplishment ; the necessary arrangements had not yet been made. Queen Mary was the idol of her people ; affection for her person and vene ration for her office were united with respect for her virtues ; she must be deprived of their love, and painted blacker than Messalina, ere another would be tolerated in her place. Moray rejected her offer of resigning it to him, and craved permission to retire to his estates in Fifeshire. Mary granted him leave of absence for eight days ; he tarried twenty-one, during which he incurred suspicion by a meeting with his brother-in-law, the Earl of Argyll, at Castle Campbell. A report was next brought to the Queen that he had privily em b ar k e d f rom hi s own monastic post of Pittenween for England, and this was at first believed both by her and others, the conduct of Moray, previous to her retur n t o S co tland, having been such as to justify any suspicions of treasonable correspon dence between him and Queen Elizabeth. When Mary, however, was convinced that the rumour of his retreat to England was unfounded, a revulsion of feeling in his favour succeeded her late anger and mistrust. How could she doubt his loyalty and love t o her, when he had refused to receive her demission of the crown of Scotland P Womanlike, she paused not t o examine too closely i nto the motives of a negation which appeared so convincing a test of his honesty. But Moray knew full well his own position, and that if he would govern Scotland, it must be under the shadow of his Sovereign's sceptre; for how or less akin to the royal line, Parliament, whom Mary called s r dbe l t o ino us gp pE o rs rmmo o re f lie liege homage to her base-born brother P and Moray had, as yet, no infant puppet to call their monarch, as a cloak for his own usurpation of the regal office under the name of Regent. How often must the poor deluded Queen have marvelled at her own blind ness and credulity. when retr ac i ng the progressive moves of her fraternal rival's finely-pl ayed game! True to her generous nature, Mary was the first to seek a reconcilia tion after the serious misunderstanding g between herself and her brother in the commencement of the year 1564. Without waiting for him to make submissions and sue for pardon, she graciously extended the olive branch, and wooed him to leave his sullen retreat and resume his wonted place in her affections and her councils. As herbe woul d p cousins, 11 Ss the jealous nothing more conducive to his o , wn „,_ aggrandisement could then be effected, Moray accepted her invitation, and she honoured his return to her court with fetes and merry makings, to which all her nobles were frankly bidden, whether they had sided with her p a -4. or his faction during the late estrangement —Mies Stricklan,d'affe of Mary Queen qf Scots. ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE. THE CHURCH AND THE STANDARD, TO THE EDITOR OP THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. SIR,—As an old reader of the Standard,—indeed a subscriber from its commencement, which is now nearly thirty years since,—l consider myself in some degree com petent to speak with confidence of the course which it has pursued, the principles which it has advocated, its merits and demerits, its good deeds and its short-comings. Judge, then, my surprise, when I hear it more than in sinuated, indeed openly asserted, that the Standard is the organ of Tractarianism. So far from such•a charge having a shadow of truth, the Standard has proved itself the consistent advocate of Protestantism, and an unwearied defender of that party to which the term Evangelical has been applied. Through good report and evil report has this party been supported, its sayings and doings chronicled five times more fully than in any other newspaper in Liverpool, and that assistance rendered of which none ought better to appreciate the value than those who have received it. Within the last year or two I have observed a perceptible difference, but it is one of greater ability and increased vigour, a change which has rendered the Standard a more efficient champion of the cause which it has so triumphantly vindicated, and for which I have no doubt it has received a considerable increase of public support. Of what little value, comparatively speaking, would be the eloquent appeals of our leading ministers in behalf of the various societies by which the work of spreading the truths of the Gospel is so well performed, were it not for the reports which appear in your columns, by which they are brought before thousands of readers who could never have been hearers. I mention these but as evidences of the good service which has been rendered by the Standard to the cause which I have so much at heart, and which renders me more astonished at the wilful misrepresenta tion to which, it appears, you have been subjected. It would seem, indeed, as though some men are so obtuse of intellect, or so wilfully perverse, that they would in one breath boast a Free Press •as the palladium of British liberty, and in the next villify their ablest champion be cause he does not prove the abject slave to laud every petty crotchet of his imperious task-masters. For my own part, I applaud your spirit of independence in daring to offer rebuke where rebuke was more deserved than praise, because I view it as an earnest of the right being supported for the sake of the right, and not for the sake of pandering to the prejudices of this or that individual. There is something that appears to me very absurd, as well as foolish, in thus casting unjust suspicions after so long a career of usefulness and consistency, more than enough to make the character of any man living. There are but two newspapers in Liverpool conducted by mem bers of the Church. An attempt is now made to misre present the views which you have so ably and temperately put forward, by the very men who have just discovered that your Saturday contemporary has a leaning towards Tractarianism. So the result appears inevitable, that these few individuals, having rejected their best friend, and deprived themselves of any claim to further support, must resort to those dissenting prints which have ever been the bitterest enemies of the Church, and which have never joined with us but to serve their own ends : for it may safely be affirmed that, with the single exception of a portion of the Wesleyans, the Dissenters have almost to a man supported Radicals and Romanists. If this is to be the upshot of all that the Standard his done in defence of the pure principles of Protestantism, I tremble for the pecuniary support which will in future be given to the various societies to which I, in common with many of my friends, have hitherto contributed. I allude to the Scripture readers' Fund, the Pastoral Aid Society, the Church Mis sionary Society, the Jews' Society, and similar institutions. I for my own part shall continue my subscriptions from a conscientious conviction that it is my duty to lend my aid as far as I have it in my power ; but there are many of my friends, and I have no doubt others, who will pause before they countenance the few intemperate men who have joined in this movement, and who, with many pro fessions of peace, seem only too anxious to be throwing the apple of discord where all should be unity. Christian liberty is one of the proud boasts of the true Protestant; but it is making the chains of slavery more galling than the fetters of Rome, if an old and tried friend cannot express an honest opinion, in sober sincerity and temperate language, without being subject to such an absurd accusation as that of leaning towards Tractarianism. It perhaps ought hardly to excite surprise, since our blessed Saviour was subject to much worse treat ment of a similar character by the self-righteous Pharisees, who took counsel together how they might entangle him in His talk. We read of the lawyers asking Him a question, tempting him ; of His rebuke, " Why tempt ye me ?" and the result, that from that day forth no man durst ask Him any more questions. These men of extreme opinions and no moderation are not confined to this town, as I observe, by a report of a public meeting of the Jews' Society at Salisbury, that one of them was not only publicly rebuked by the chairman for his intemperate language and offensive epithets, but the latter threatened to leave the meeting. Blindly wedded to their own narrow views and selfish prejudices, they cannot brook contradic tion, and take offence at a manly expression of honest independence for which I give you credit, though I may not agree with all your views. If this, however, is to be the end of long and faithful service, then farewell to our boasted British freedom ; but I am rather inclined to think that such wilful misrepresentations can only come from a few whose intellects are too confined for reason to have the slightest influence upon them.—l am, Sir, &c., SENEX. P.S.—I enclose you my card, and you have full liberty to make what use you please of this letter. PRIEST CAHILL AND THE CHURCH OF ROME. TO THE EDITOR OP TRH LIVERPOOL STA.NDA.P.D. SIR,—On hastily glancing over the letter of the Romish Priest Cahill, written the week before last, in answer to the challenge of the Protestant Clergymen of Birkenhead, I was forcibly struck with one passage in it. He says,— " We believe no one can infallibly learn Christ's law with out our teaching !" I think I noticed in some other part of the letter, something to the effect that Protestants could not teach truth, nor Roman Catholics priests error; but the whole letter strongly illustrates the arrogance of the man, and the unwarrantable assumptions of the Romish clergy. Nothing will satisfy them, it would appear, until they have reduced the human intellect and the entire population, from the highest to the lowest, to subjection to them, and their teaching ; but surely they can never succeed in this. The lamentable apathy and indifference of Protestants, and the open encouragement of some in fluential parties, from whom an opposite line of conduct might be naturally expected, would seem to spur them on in their nefarious career. But I must again refer to the extract above quoted. "We believe no one can infallibly learn Christ's law without our teaching!" This is monstrous. Can any educated Roman Catholic believe this ? Can he so prostrate his intellect as not to use his mental faculties in judging for himself upon matters that concern his eternal welfare, but blindly submit to the dictum of his fellow mortals ? Has the Almighty re linquished His prerogative of ruling and reigning in the hearts of His obedient children, and showing them Him self, by His Holy Spirit, what He requires them to do, and what He requires them to refrain from doing ? There are many, very many, I rejoice to say, who can say, from heartfelt experience, that their Creator has not so re linquished His undoubted prerogative, and given over His creatures solely to the teaching of frail, erring human beings like themselves. I think Priest Cahill asserts that the Scriptures are not forbidden to the members of the Romish Church ; but they must receive them, it is well known, subject to the interpretation of the priests, and along with the traditions of their Church, which are held as of equal efficacy and force with the sacred Scriptures themselves. Infatuated and debased indeed must be the intellect of those who will thus prostrate themselves to their frail fellow-creatures. I think, if any properly qualified person would keep a watchful eye on the sayings and doings of Priest Cahill, and expose his gross errors in the public papers, he would be doing good service to his country and the cause of true religion. The priest, feeling, as I hope he does, the weak ness of his cause, dare not meet an open discussion with the Birkenhead clergymen, but writes a long rigmarole letter to cover his retreat, and this letter is, forsooth, printed in a cheap form and extensively circulated among his ignorant dupes, with a view of giving him the appear ance of coming off in a triumphant manner, and having the last word. But he has for once acted wisely for his own reputation, and skulked away to the North, to bluster there, I suppose. Nov. 4, 1853. A PROTESTANT DISSENTER. THE MONSTER VICE OF LIVERPOOL, AS DE- PICTED BY A CLERGYMAN. TO THE EDITOR OF THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. Sia,—l have just returned, with sickened heart and de pressed spirit, from the densely populated district in which I labour, grieved and shocked by those fearful exhibitions of beastly intoxication so common in this locality, and also in the town at large. I, therefore, sit down to fulfil the resolve long made of addressing you on this alarming, dis graceful, and growing evil. The appalling and frightful extent to which this most degrading vice is carried has, for the last twelve months, weighed most heavily and sorely on my mind, and often have I thought, when my hurried gaze has been arrested by the large and glaring placard proclaiming war to Romish superstitions—that while the leading champions of Protestantism are arousing the attention of their fellow-townsmen to the daring ag gressions and blighting progress of Papal error,—while from the hoary battlements and massive turrets of our beloved Sion they soun d the trumpet's shrill alarm and ring the bugle call for marshalling their troops in bold defence of sacred truth, and the preservation of a pure and holy faith—that while within the precincts of the hal lowed temple, and without its walls, they exhort with burning eloquence their fellows to a martyr's courage and to a martyr's bravery in the cause of Christian truth and Christian liberty, the sensual and bloated Bacchus is suffered, unimpeded, unobstructed, and unchecked, to drive his desolating car, and to scatter unresisted his demon, yet seducing charms, over the homes and dwellings of now happy, prosperous, and virtuous—but, alas, ere long, wretched, forlorn, and vice-ridden families. It is high time to awake—high time for the preachers and lovers of domestic and social virtue to arise and arm for a determined struggle with the foe ; high time to unite and oppose the devastating onslaught of a foe who threatens to hold in brutal bondage millions of our countrymen, to defend the citadel of English sobriety, English virtue, and English order and morality. Lest I may be saluted by some of your readers with the salutation once given to St. Paul, " Thou art beside thy self," or lest I may be looked upon as one of those who delight to make the dark more dark, and give a gloomier tinge to the picture than rea li ty would warrant, suffer me to present, through the medium of your journal, to the authorities and influential men of this great town a few scenes which I sketched in my ministerial diary. I shall first refer you to the hospital which, as a clergyman of the district, it is my duty to attend. CASE I.—A few months ago I made my usual visit to the institution, when, upon entering one of the wards, to my perfect dismay and horror, I found a man who, although bleeding profusely from frightful wounds in the head, received while fighting, was raving and frantic from the effects of excessive drinking—he was as furious as a chafed lion—he used the most foul and obscene language, and uttered the met fearful blasphemies -1 w eyes darted and blazed with fiendish wrath and viciousness, and so utterly did this frenzied paroxysm overwhelm and de monize him, that the usual respect for my office, which generally, in cases of intemperance, is seen, however slightly, was so far forgotten, that he welcomed ME SPECIALLY with such a torrent of oaths and filthiness of speech, that I was compelled to leave; and I heard after wards that his state of intoxication was so desperate; that the surgeons found it necessary to strap him to his bed ere they could perform the benevolent duties of their pro fession. You ask me how came this man there in such a horrid and disgusting state ? He and a friend met—they entered a low beer-shop—drank to excess—enslaved their reason—left there intoxicated—made a second call upon another " public-house," the master of which house, although he saw their deplorable and beastly condition, freely and readily responded to their call, " more drink " —more drink—then they quarrel—fight—disturb the peace—one falls to the ground wounded, is brought to the hospital still drink—suffers for weeks—feeds on and enjoys the fruits of pure benevolence which have been generously provided for poor and unfortunate sufferers. CASE 2.—1 have known of several within the last few months brought into the institution in a state of death like insensibility, the result of long and continued drink ing, and some of whom have passed from time to GOd's dread tribunal in that awful state. CASE 3.—lt was only on Thursday last that I went to the bedside of a man whose head was covered with blood and wounds, and, upon asking him the cause, he said be had been fighting, when drunk, with another man. CASE 4.—A day or two ago I found a man lying there with a terribly fractured arm—the fracture received from a fall while drunk. I found, sad to say, he had been a most respectable man—a man of more than com mon education—once a devout and earnest member of a Christian church, but, alas! he had drunk deeply, and lost himself. Did I not fear to trespass on your columns, I could recount numberless others ; I could tell of women falling down stairs in a state of intoxication, breaking arm or leg, and carried here under the brutalizing effects of liquor. But now for the district. CASE I.—A few months ago, on the Sunday, I was, as usual, going to the afternoon service in the school-room, when I found the street in sad confusion and disorder,—two men partly naked, and fighting fiercely, opposite the place of Divine worship—both of them drunk to excess. The police-officer then on duty, being unable by himself to en counter these intoxicated savages, sent for the help of some of his brethren, who, coming to the spot, after a terrible scuffle managed to secure the men, and restore peace and order. CASE 2.—The day following (Monday), having to go into my district several times, I was compelled to witness two disgusting scenes, both the result of drunkenness, — the first, two women, with dishevelled hair, bloody coun tenances, matted heads, clothes torn from their backs, heads bleeding, both raging like furies. The second case, —a man in a frenzy from intemperance, disturbing thepeace and quiet of the street ; when taken home by some kind friend who was passing by, so furious and fiend-like was he, that his wife and children grew pale with fear at his approach, and shuddered when he staggered into the abode. I heard the history of the man, and found that he had been in respectable circumstances—for a time a consistent member of a religious body, a kind father, and indulgent husband, a quiet neighbour, and a steady and industrious workman. But in a fatal hour the winning voice and syren-call of Bacchus caught his ear, and made him her victim. CAsu 3.—Last week, passing through the street, I saw, at mid-day, two men, intoxicated, stripped to their waists, fighting, set on and encouraged by a throng alike the infatuated and senseless victims of strong drink. CASE 4.—A Monday or two ago, in passing down one street only, before eleven o'clock in the morning, I met FORTY drunken women, all tumbling and reeling home to their miserable and affrighted children. CASE s.—Last Sunday I visited a house where I found children and room in sad confusion—fright seen on every countenance—the poor wife in tears,—face swollen. Upon inquiry I found the husband a man given to excessive intemperance. It appears he is often drunk twice or thrice in a-day ;he spends every penny of the money he earns in the ale-house, the wife keeping a large family by her own exertions. Last Saturday he came home in a state of wild and unmanageable drunkenness; kicked his wife unmerci fully with his thick-nailed boots, struck her on the face, broke three of her teeth, and then, like a brute, went to bed. Numerous are the families I visit in their chairless and bedless hovels, surrounded by squalid and filthy poverty,—a patch of dirty straw cast into the far corner; a poor, haggard-looking wife and mother, in the midst of starving and ill-clad children; and when I ask the cause, my suspicions are confirmed. The father—the husband—with his pound, thirty shillings, or two pounds weekly, is allured, is seduced, is beguiled to the drinking booth, or the more luxurious and princely " gin-palace," and there, amid jovial riot and Bacchanalian song, amid wanton dance, and the sparkling wine -bowl, or the less costly ale-cup, he drowns the thought of crying children asking for bread— of broken-hearted wife, wild and mad with sor row, as she sees in fancy's eye the cruel monster, who swore in sight of heaven to love and cherish her, squandering with prodigal and thoughtless hand the hard, hard earn ings of the six-days' toil. My present task is made more painful when I am forced to say that such cases, so revolting, are daily brought before my eyes, that they are multiplying fast, are on a rapid increase, and that woman, tender-loving woman too, often acts the tragic part of murderess and destroyer of her children's, her husband's home and comforts—that woman, winning woman too, forgetting her pure and lovely nature, and sinking into the abhorred hag of Bacchus' train, offers her gentle offspring as worshippers and victims for his bloody altar. These are facts—facts undeniable—not the dreams or pencillings of poetic minds—but glaring and appalling facts. Shall these continue ? Can they ? indeed they must not —they cannot so continue with im punity ; retribution, dire retribution on such as these— retribution in the dreadful form of plague and pestilence ; a country cannot thrive and prosper while a vice, like some ferocious vulture, feeds upon its vitals. What can a kingdom be—what will she be—whose vast and multi plying masses— whose fast-increasing children of the workshop, wharf, anvil, and the plough (the strength and sinew of a people) become the sottish and idle votaries of intoxicating Bacchus—who steep their senses and benumb their fine feelings, and destroy their strength of arm and limb in the maddening and enfeebling vat of horrid drunkenness ? What can a kingdom be—what can a nation be—whose rising generation— whose future men and women—whose children, male and female, are nou rished in the midst of vice—who live and move amid the scenes of vilest sensuality—children listening to the ob scene and filthy jest of a besotted father—listening to the dreadful oath and wanton speeches of a drunken mother just returned from the neighbouring ale-house ? What can a country be—what will she be with an increasing multitude of such as these—what—what ? Public authorities, and men of influence in the town, lend me your ear, while I entreat you with all earnestness to help in stemming the torrentof drunkenness that threatens to demoralise and wasteyour country's people—entreat your energy and zeal in checking and opposing the bold and dauntless march of desolating intemperance. I suppli cate your co-operation with the clergy of the town in endeavouring to devise some plan whereby the lower classes may be sheltered, may be screened from the fas cinating temptations that beset them. I entreat you, if it be possible, to cease adding to the frightful number of licensed " spirit-houses ;" cease from sanctioning at every corner, and at every turn of our over-crowded districts, buildings, which, by their extent and external decoration and grandeur, and by their internal adornment of sculp ture, painting, and the charms of mirth, music, and in toxicating drinks, shall entice the unwary passer-by to enter those doors which too often prove to be the gate "that inclineth to death." I entreat you to exert your authority and influence in closing entirely all public houses on the Lord's day. 0, ye see not, and ye know not, as I do, of scenes of sensual riot that pollute the evening of that holy day. Deliver us from the withering curse of open "drinking palaces" on the Sabbath evening. We ministers of the Church may wear ourselves away; we may visit the chamber of poverty and vice from morn to eve ; we may point the outcast and the vile to the " fountain open for sin and uncleanness ;" we may plead, reason, and exhort the drunkard to forsake the path of premature death, and the horrors of eternal despair; we may spend our strength ; we may sacrifice our days to works of ministerial love and charity ; and our hearts may throb, and our pulse beat high, and our bowels yearn to reform and bring home the wanderer and the vile, but alone—alone as we are single-handed in the conflict, and worse than alone, while those professing the Gospel of purity and sobriety, and virtue, are getting gain ' are extending their domain, and accumulating f or tunes by the multiplying of those haunts of drunkenness —alone in a densely populated district, what are we — what can we do ? We exert ourselves beyond our strength —we feel already sinking in the fight. As lovers of your country—as Britons proud of her unsullied flag—proud of British valour, and British virtue, and British blessings— as Christians—as Churchmen who venerate and love the holy temple of youe fathers, and who desire to preserve her respected sanctity—as philanthropists, as men who know the joys of a virtuous home and virtuous wives, and loving and obedient children, help—aid to banish the curse—to eradicate the disease that, like a plague-spot, widens, enlarges, and mars the otherwise glorious beauty of your fatherland ; help to drive the pestilential evil from your town—a sin that fills your jails, crowds your work houses, throngs your hospitals, depopulates your country, carries to an untimely grave the healthy and robust among the labouring classes—a sin that multiplies your destitute widows and famishing orphans —a sin that profanes and desecrates God's holy day. Abstain from such rapid licensing as heretofore, and close these houses on the Lord's-day. I am, Sir, CLERICUS. Liverpool, Nov. 3, 1853. TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1853. THE POSITION AND PROSPECTS OF POLITICAL PARTIES IN LIVERPOOL. TO THE EDITOR OP THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. SIR,—It is a most extraordinary fact, that although the Liverpool Liberals have almost unvarying success in the Revision Courts, still they are as invariably defeated at the hustings. It is worth the time of these Liberals to find out how such results ensue, and for the Tories to consider what is the cause of their constant failure in registration business. At the parliamentary revision which was held between Mackenzie and Turner's, and Liddell and Hors fall's election, the Reformers had a gain of some 300 or 400 votes ; still, at the election which took place on the register so revised, Mr. Horsfall's majority was, as near as possible, the same as Mr. Turner's Again, at the municipal re vision, which was held a few weeks since, the Radicals knocked off 86 voters in West Derby Ward; yet, Mr. Wm. Earle,—who last year polled only 156 votes, and was beaten by 48,—after having this year polled 241 votes (nearly 100 more than last year), was again beaten, though only by a small majority. No one would—or could—say, that Mr. Horsfall used any influences different to Mr. Turner, or Mr. Clint to Mr. Henderson. This, I say, is worth the attention of all Reformers, for no one can brook defeat worse than y our mo d ern Radical. I never knew a Radical to be defeated, who did not console himself by at tributing his opponent's success to improper or illegal agencies. v ßut 11 • ow is it that the Tories are so unsuccessful in re gistration ? Because they don't go to the expense which is indispensable for success. There is plenty of material to reverse the result : there are in Liverpool now, at least 600 men who are qualified to be on the FBEEMEA's re mgiisgtehrt;baenpdutthoenrethareenTunsyEnoothLenrsE,R,wshlios,tlwitsh oawtt,eniftiootees Constitutional Association were better supported by the Tories of the town, all these men might be looked_ after, and put on the registers,—l am confident we could improve our position by 600 or 700! what would become of Liverpool Radicalism ? w tented it would degenerate into a mere faction of dis a pp and renegade politicians. All that is necessarY , an outlay similar to that of the Reform ASSOCiatiOD, which a constant and efficient attention, throughout the year, could be given to matters of reg,istration. The Tories of Liverpool, I own, are greatly indebted to Mr. Barb master, the Secretary of the Constitutional Association, for the vigilant and untiring zeal which he displays in their interest; but he cannot do impossibilities, and it would be an impossibility for him to do what they do at the Rethrg . Office, unless the same funds are placed at his dielxszn From what I know, I have little doubt that th e anntal ao ordinary expenses of the Reform, are double that of t he Constitutional Association. Even this year, when the e ver registration was bett er a tt en d e d to by the Tories than it was before, the R a di ca l s h a d a ga i n of near 160! l'Orl this should not be. Let the Tories of Liverpool give more energetic su P P°l to the Constitutio na l Association ; let all who are 11°' members become so forthwith and those who now belong to it, consider if they c anno t increase their subscription This is the only way by w hi c h we can save the town thee. annoyance of exciting and expensive contests at every election ; prevent the repetiti on o f f r i v olous and vex ation petitions; and convince even such despotic minds as Robertson Gladstone's, that Radicalism in Liverpool hay hitherto existed on sufferance !—I am, Sir, yours, 84 e" Liverpool, 7th Nov., 1853. A TORY' PRAYERS AGAINST WAR AND CHOLERA- TO TUE EDITOR OP THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD-ART SIR,—It must, I think, strike every reflecting Me — . n of the Church of England, that there has been an onaissirno in our prayers in not having one suitable for the circa ed stances in which we are at present situated—thr eaten war ; as the one ordered to he used in " Time of war, : Is° tumult" is not fitted to our present situation; ati da y) that there has not been a Sunday (not to say a w ee l. ir ly set apart in which prayer mi g ht b e more lor tieu ich offered up for deliverance from the cholera, with w we are now threatened.—l am, Sir, tit ND. A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH OF Liverpool, Nov. 5, 1853. NOTES, NOTICES, AND Opi2lolV-S• BY JOHANNES RUSTICUS. ' i" . neh XIV. SERVANTS' HOME.—Liverpool is already I.l od her institutions ; but there is one wanting, which be be second to none in usefulness, and would, Perb a Y,„"'ply, more beneficially and extensively felt than any—na .— ts a Servants' Home—an institution whe r e domestic serve,,,, out of place, or coming from the co un t r y to seek a P l ' l 7d could find board and lodging on the cheapest terms , a n d be sheltered from the contamination, and misery, filth, and vice of the mi s e ra bl e cour t s an d hovels wn er a i they now take shelter. It has bec ome an a lmost univ ers d, complaint that there are few g o o d servan t s to be &unto Drunkenness, lying, and dishonesty are so common os, a be the rule of conduct, rather th an th e ex ception. ;'. e how can it be otherwise when servants, out of place' t. driven to the courts and purlieus of Ma b on e and SO Mary bone e°" le land-road to find a lodging, where, of course, they e the familiar with every species of vice, and are exposed to companionship of the very worst characters—often too,ure'iw doubt, contracting debts to be repaid tenfold, at a fu t time, with the spoils of their masters and mistressuid Now, all this may, and ought to be remedied, and it n° require no very large amount of money to set on foot ese institution which would, in a great measure, remedy t he evils. Let us suppose that there are in Liverpool " 111 , of immediate neighbourhood about 10,000 servant ma' — ',.Far whom we may calculate not less than 500 are cons— <3 out of place. Of these 500 we may assume that not lee than one-half may be induced to enter a Servant? 1-1 1 provided they could be boarded and lodged as ebegirle there as elsewhere—a number sufficiently large to en"• a m de an f n or er. i ar n r a an h g ig em hl e y ntsto be satisfactory m should be no private or individual speculation, but as in,"' a public institution as the Sailors' Home, and s hould carrying t g he on Se t r h v e att illtl—lu ': 36 not only at,keeping its inmates out of harm's way, b"" le , making them god and efficient servants. It is iroPc' sib 'O.. to estimate the amount of good which such an estabo or ment, if well conducted, would be sure to produce , e how many hundreds of families would, in a short c 0 tic of time, be indebted to it for a large increase of domes comfort. Let me hope these remarks will meet the eg of some philanthropic clergyman, or some bene v°l e ct lady, who will take the trouble to talk over the sub3 4 . o with their friends, and propose some public movement the accomplishment of so desirable an object. --- THE REV. DR. 3.IWEILE AND T J EDINBURGH REVIEW. Tun following letter has been addressed by the R ev Pr' M`Neile to the Rev. W. J. Coneybeare Albury-house, Liverpool, Nov r or DEAR SlB,—Since the appearance of the last nunw e „,o the Edinburgh Review rumour has ascribed to yon,,, the article on " Church Parties" which it contains. ttett unwilling to believe it possible that you could have wri parts of it ; and I now charitably hope that, before wrote pp. 292-293, with their foot note, you had forgotw what is written at p. 284. handy" , Our mutual friend Mr. How ha so v n e has the s in n fo d ri n n es ed s ra e ' w th i e t xt h aa e uy n t t hl , o, as rtho h efn e t, s hr a ee y q s au , rte a l n et y ley. b o r u eac to h of confidence, th at " are tu let me know on what evidence you char e m for, ju Y eur n th e , it is a charge, and a grave one— g with being a member r eal/ leader—the ablest leader, of what you are ploaSea '- the Recordite party in the Church ? t hY On the good taste of designating your brethren , 11° any theological or ecclesiastical peculiarities, real or S . : up' posed, but by a nickname derived from a newspaPerqe. make no comment • De gustibus, kc. With the Vit a ' ve or injustice of the description you give of the partya no personal concern—that is your affair ; but since y e or have introduced me, by name, as the leader of a Pa rt ! g y which you have given such a description, I think XA - 4 most reasonably expect that, as a gentleman, you will refuse to ve our proofs. Of the part y in question you say (p. 284), " Its d ist o e: tive doctrines are derived from those of the Evangelise school, by pushing each of these to extravagant c 0 to quences. Thus, from justification by faith, the Bee e ' infers the worthlessness of morality." fo/' Here I pause. I might, indeed, select any of t he { c ce. lowing clauses for comment, but this one shall S' yOti When you say, "the Recordite infers," I prestua - w ise mean that he gives expression to his inference, other._ts, you could not become cognizant of it ; he speaks, or Pfregg or both, i. e., he teaches, as an inference, the svort' sa cli ness of morality. It is not that his accuser draw s u id be an inference from some of his statements. This w° -• 13)• intelligible. The great Apostle felt this (see Bei m 7 'the But your charge is that the Recordite himself draw inference. You say, " the Recordite infers," an d w ith you open your description of a party in the Churr" , h iess• the deliberate statement that they teach the wort es ness of morality. An attempt to screen yourse l f, this, by pleading that to infer does not mean to 044 would be too obviously a special pleading. If your do not mean this they mean nothing. haV e There may be some persons who so teach. There 00. 0 unhappily been Antinomians in all ages. Som e r e el l ' whom you call Recordites may be guilty of though I imagine you could find nothing of the ft,l,", i t, the Record itself. Indeed, it seems pretty plain b .'„ ) 49 . 0f. you could have cited evidence to sustain this clause 1 ",, sa id , indictment, you would have done so. But, as I l r i ac „ - i i ject! this is not my concern. On some very important e ; t hif!" I entirely differ from the Record, while, on others , .. ry it has done good and faithful service. But my ia t t n ui &sr on what evidence you have felt yourself at liberty "" ag yo u me before the public as the leader of a party, r (11 ?1 ? If allege, teach, or infer, the worthlessness of mora lity oer you can cite any passage from any of my books , la ar ,cas a ,; mons, or speeches, justly exposing me to such an ts"" tion, I shall feel bliged by your doing so, and I snSitioo l care to have the mischief e x p unge d f rom the nest i r - her with a penitent acknowledgment of the past need ever nndesigned. But, if you can find no such Pas t and if my publications abound, as they do, vat.lV - oP ee ,t directly the reverse, then, I think, I have a right a ggi that you will acknowledge your fault in. bring - jag, yea':,o a brother clergyman—an acquaintance of rsa il ',,tert'g standing, for whom you have always professed t o sentiments of Christian kindness, and who 11 , rch l o c , entertained the same towards you—an accussll i t to ~c 1 you are utterly unable to sustain. I have a rg o ess,oe, pect, further, that, in all fairness, and uprig".'.. 0$ y o of equity, you will make your confession as public; 1 0 0 fault ; i. e.; that you will have it inserted in t h the Edinburgh Review. ot °{j I cannot doubt your willingness to do this, more tice, because I cannot as yet hold you g u ilty ° ,,ter• /out an inadvertence, though of a very grave chard fe d. The temptation was too great to be rear the t;iree associations lingered around Liverpool, and .„ e seg o .ola influence which you say (page 293, note) I h av e 101,0 by my eloquence over the second town in °- made me an object too prominent to esesP e ,,, - you were hurled at random against " the Evangeo`,, g ain,' foe But when, by way of compensation for the "",4‘ Del to made upon me, you acknowledge (ibid.) tha t y° o o - , me to be a thoroughly sincere and honest In e borne 4 0 have done much good," you should surely ha v in ion) the mind, that as I am an able leader (in your eP,...aitY, party who teach or infer the worthlessness of r_ff more sincere I am, and the more eloquent In of a t o he. more influence I have thereby acquired, inn - muses much good, the more intolerably mischievouS — c te Inconsistency with himself is the proverbial to f eig _ of a witness from whom the accused has notnltofienialce and of whom an intelligent jury soon leer!' suitable estimate.—l am yours, faith riu - an statam , THE SULTAN OF TURKEY'S NEW PALACIL;R, is now building a new palace at Dolma . 16 ... 0 s3 r otenaiir front to the Bosphorus. The architec t is a," n F r ance t he the son of the Sultan's builder ; he studied _able a short time. The palace is of stone and extends workmanship is very common ; the frontag st !rT a sli,f i l io the Bosphorus from Dolma Baktcht , to Be, must have a facade of upwards of 1,000 fee,t_;;; ev' is exquisite. The palace is more like greet' er isl covering in the rear something exorbitantly h p? was here that Mr. W. J. Smith erected 10 1 1 , 4 7, 1 it 01 1.1 .` c i majesty a winter garden and koisk, and furins..upog„ European style, with crystal fountain, eah a ece s are o f chandeliers lighted with gas. The chimne%e r fieo- ;,,ef crimson-coloured crystal and painted china; $ china; and the basin of the fountain eha' -11 fl o or ee t if exquisitely painted with flowers. The p rine ' l i to st e e5 ,,,t1 prises vast halls and apartments fitted up ina wi g manner in gilding and painting, executed by natives. The taste of some of the interior full questionable. The baths are fitted up with ' i 'dtaft ll alabaster. The roof is covered with lead ; theeta'. TDThe palaces, and only these, are covered with that in 1 palace is built on piles. The great staircase i ; s, i i , lf; a large skylight of crimson-coloured glass. 'T a ins ap e d areenerally low. The harem of the palace CO n__ pro ach meats for 300 or 400 women. The palace app through a costly trumphal gateway.—/holder