The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-10-13 00:00:00

eturatilrE. N OTIOE S. A Description of the Bath , and Virushhouses belonging to the Corporation of Liverpool. Printed under the direction of the Health Committee. This pamphlet apoears at a very seasonable time, when the public mind is neginning tc b aaakened to a know /edge of the distressed and comfortless c on diti on o f t h e poor in the crowded dis!ricts of our town, and is occu pied with plans to better that condition, and at the same time to protect their own health, which is endangered by the disease e . ogt-ndered in these di s t r i c t s . P ro p e r sana tory precautions, it Is now felt, do no t cons i s t i n me t e street drainage , and sew ereze , Gr t h e di suse o f ce ll They ar habiia- Cons. hty West he carried into the dwellings and to the persons of the working rlas-es, who must be taught that . clean skin and clean clothes are as important to health as a pure atmosphere. We do not know that any efFirt could be made more calcuhatA to promote the personal cleanliness of our po pulation than the t rovidiug them with cheap baths, and those remly and efficacious means of washing and drying which they cannot command in their own small and un comfortable dwellings. It has been proved by experience haw gtiolly they avail themselves of these facilities. From a table given in the rropillet before us, it appears that in the Federick-street Baths—an fsokblishment on a very small scale—the total amount received for washing and Laths in 1812.3 was £l:',9 Id. ; in 1845-6 the amount was £137 2s. 6.1. Th . number of clotbes washed in 1842.3 was 19,261 dozens ; in 1845.6 it was 21,095, and would hart teen enormously increased had the acsommo dation been equal to the demand for it. How - ever, it is gratifying to observe that the speculation is not altogether :I losing one on the part of the Corporation. We give elsewhere a description of a second and larger establiii, snit now ready to he brought into operation, and trust that not many years will elapse before one is found in every ward in the town. The pamphlet, which is most ably written, contains plans and elevations of the new baths in Paid-street, and t ill well repay perusal by all who are interested in those philanthropic works by which the welfare of their fePow-creatures is advanced. it has been written by John A. Tinne, Esq., who has thus given an other evidence of his !rent exertions—necessarily at the cost of much self-denial—to ad;ance the moral and social condition of his poorer fellow-townsmen. A Romance of Liverpool Lip.. By John Dignan. Liver pool : .ROS 3 and Nightingale, Lord-street. Pp. 64. Toe unpretendirre little volume before us has appeared in detached chapters in the columns of the Liverpool Chronicle; and is now repahli-bed by the author, at the request of several friends who, having been pleased with portions of it, have been disaepoitwed in their wish to complete the tale, some of the tomb-Ts of the paper con taining it having run out of print. The chief scenes and incid- rite, as may be ssen from the title, are laid in Liver pool, the whole Itinaing upon an occurrence connected with the disasters whet, took place upon the banks off our port during the great storm of January 7, 1839. The tale is well worked out, and ectiiveya an excellent moral. We shall not incur the risk of diminishing the interest with which our readers ma y t a k e u p th e lace k, by giving any description of the plot and incidents of the story. We prefer increasing the interest by giving an extract or two. Tire fo lowing powerfully described scene contains the main incident, upon which the remaining events of the tale are made to hinge : " The teleeraph speedily made known in Liverpool the desperate condition of the foundering ships. Aid was sent, even at the peril of the hrave fellows who risked their own lives, to save those of their fellow creatures. The life-bout did good service, the tug-boats were even more successful in rescuing the unhappy wretches from a horrid death. On beard of the vessel with Mrs. Smithdown and her daueh tee, was a steerage passenger, who appeared to take anin terest in thei safety, afforded them all the protection in his power, comforted them in their railings, and extended a helping hand to save their lives, where he could safely do so without jeopaulising hi. awn. His age seemed to be about fifty, and a slight patois proclaimed him a York ahireman. scarcely above the middle size, he possessed a bard well-knit frame, brawny chest and shoulders, and a comweriance of rude health that showed him capable of enae uetering any hardsh p. He was just the man for such an emergency. He hod emigrated two years previously, and was returning to Leeds, where he had left his wife and family, after a fruitless attempt to better his condition in America. ll'hertier prompted by the hope of reward, or the nobler instinct which induces the brave and the hardy to support those who are too wesk to support themselves, it matters not—probably troth feelings combined, for the sight of a woman and b au'y in distress appeals powerfully to the he irt of every man—cerain, however, it is. that from the time the vessel struck, the attentions of Martin Small to Mrs. Smithdown and her daughter, were kind and unremitting. lle lashed them to a portion of the bulwarks with the same piece of rope that secured himself from bring washed overboard, dewirmined, apparently, that they should sink or swim together. A tug-boat came to the rescue of the foundering vessel, but the sea, boiling like a cauldron, and the wi n d s till con 'i nu i ng hi g h, ren dered great caution necessary in approaching her. The captain of the steamer had apprehensions that he could not with safety come sufficiently near to take off the pas sengers, without certain destruction to his own vessel, and all on board. Eventually, however, after much manoeu vring, which seemed an age to the sufferers, the steamer was brought nearly parellel with the wreck, and many of the passengers sprang with all the force which an effort to escape from death inspires, from the vessel to the steamer. Some succeeded, others tailed, and the failure was death —instant death ! It was a leap from life to eternity, and the death-shr ek of those whit sunk into the yawning abyss wits lost in the requiem of th- passing storm. Sta ple urged Mrs. Smithdown, by all the entreaties in his power, to take the leap. In ordsr to inspire her with cou rage he preceded her, and stood on the steamer's side to Catch her in his arms. She, poor creature, wild with af- ! fright, looked the picture of despair on th e vesse l' s s id e , her daughter madly clingier, to her garments. But lie en couraged her by shouts aittlFeatures, to make the attempt. Once when tie steamer. dr' ./en by the tide, came a fe w inches nearer to the wren; than was safe, he shouted out in a peal which towered s h ove th e blast, Now ! now ma'am,. now or never!' Si te sprang, t h rew h er arms wildly furwaril, but the impetu s b e i ng e i t h er i nsu ffi c i ent, or Staple proving nervous i n th e emergency, M rs. Smith down sank into the roaring waters, and was never seen earere. The packet w hi c h s ' e b a d d epos i te d f or secur it y in her bosom was in her hand as she took the fatal plunge, and although Martin Staple was not fortunate enough to save the lite ot' poor Mrs Smithdown, he succeeded by the merest accident, in grasping this packet, which contained the bulk of her own and her husband's property. It con sisted of a large number of Bank of England notes, dia monds, and other valuables, arid these he contrived, quietly and unanticed, to transfer to his own breast. The young lady was more fortunate than her unhappy mother, who thus perished before her eyes, and Staple bestowed on the broken-hearted girl much generous sympathy." The purpose to which the stolen packet was appro priated, and the visitation of affiiwion and remorse which followea the dishonest act, we also give : " Martin was not long in plar;na himself in abetter po sition before the wow. He took a larger house; his fa mily gave signs of iessed comfort ; their appearance at church in new and gayer attire attracted attention ; and the " windfall" which had blown a fortune into his fingers, become the current topic of conversation : it puzzled and surprised his tisighbours. He commenced business as a woollen manufacturer, first on a small, subsequently on a more extended'tale. He exported largely to America— Lnew how to hit the taste of the market—added consider ably to Its gains, and in a few years became a wealthy man. He was assisted in his business by his eldest son, Itenry ; and another son acted as junior clerk in the counting house. But as Martin Staple grew in wealth, he found that happiness, without a pure conscience, was un attair,able. Tile fanciful notion which prevails in the East, that in the passage to Paradise some of the followers of the Prophet must traverse, barefooted, an iron bridge made red-hot. as a punishment air their sins, describes, not inaptly, tae living, existing hell by which he was daily consumed. His sort was constantly seared by an iron as Lot as that which is said to toast the soles of the faithful. Domestic misfortunes embittered his life. His youngest daughter, a lovely creature, sickened and died. His ollfi t ,e • est son, while strolling through the works, was struck by the machinery, anti killed a n the spot. His wife had iridifferent health, anti consumption was fastening its fangs on his eldest daughter, who possessed a form and face, in the days of his happiness and poverty, that Hebe might have envied. The destroying Angel seemed to keep guard over his house, and he rarely rose from his pillow without the fear of same new calamity bursting on his de voted head. The foundation of his own constitution was being sapped, and the hale, hearty Martin Staple was ra pidly, prematurely sinking into a feeble, decrepid old man. " Martin !" said his wife, ewe day after dinner, when they were alone, as the well spread table which groaned under every delicacy of the season, was being replenished with a handsome dessert, and wines of the richest and choicest vintages sparkled on the mahogany,--` Martin! I have never known a day's happiness since you produced to my astonished eyes that roll of bank notes you brought from America. It is a casual lam unwilling to touch, but I have always had my fears that that wealth would prove our ruin. Now, when I see my sweet children falling in the flower of their loveliness before my eyes —now, in the midst of splendour, when we . are steeped to the eyes in misery the most excruciating, with decaying health assail ing both of us—pardon me, dearest husband, if I ask you whether your statement of thcwoode in which you attained it was correct. I hope it was, but my fears exceed my Lopes.' She did touch a c h o rd which thrilled through every fibre of his frame. Ile paused—became excessively a g it a ted —looked wildly round him , and his wife, fearing apoplexy, was proceeding to alarm the inmates of the Louse, when he motioned her to desist.: The remaining portion of the tale, with its striking de nouement, are wrought out with great skill. , e trust that the issue of this little adventure upon the discrimina tion of the public will induce Mr. Dignan to favour us, at no fang interval, with a more sustained effort of his pen. VARIETIES. TIIE VALUE OF LADIES' TIME IN AMERICA. — Miss Fly, of Massachusetts, has recovered 365 dollars of Mr. Frost, for a breach of promise of marriage. He courted Ler one year, anti the jury allowed her one dollar per day. COI.oNIAL EPiscopAcv.—lt is now universally known, that after a st , uggle against the combined difficulties thrown in the way by po'iticians and dissenters for nearly a century, the first epi sco p a l see i n th e B r iti s h co l on i es (that of Nova . Scotia) w as f oun d e d i n 1787. Di v idi ng the period of about sixty years which has intervened into three equa l in tervals, we shall find that in the first twenty years hut one other see was founded ; in the next period, from 1807 to 182! three new s-es were founded; a nd , since that time, i.e. i n the last nineteen years, fo ur t een additional coloniz.l hishopricics have been ere c t e d, t h e endowment of several of which has been effected or aided by the fund commenced in 1841 for that purpose.-ox. ford and Cambridge Review. DEMAND FOR ARTISTICAL OPERATIVES.—The em ployment of coloured decorations increases, promises In deed to be general, and should lead our young artisans and of :ers to become draughtsmen and designers, and so avail ing them se l ves o f th e d eman d, i mprove th e i r condition. In the private exercise of our profession we have, at this time, decorations going on in three or four places; and it is a constant source of annoyance to us, almost pain, to find that English workmen cannot be obtained for this purpose—at least, so say the masers, who, moreover, pro fess themselves anxious to obtain English assistants, and vexed at being obliged to send to Germany or France, for what they ought to be able to find in London without diffi culty. At Ole little works to which we have referred, and at eny similar undertaking now going on in England, a visitor would fancy himself in a foreign atelier—wouE- Niches, rolling hair, and jaunty smoking caps, distinguish ing the occupants:—The Builder. DIFFICULTY OF PAINTING BREAKERS.—AS respects the form of breakers on an even shore, there is difficulty of no less formidable kind. There is in them an irrecon cilable mixture of fury and formalism. Their hollow sur face is marked by parallel lines, like those of a smooth mil:-weir, and graduated by reflected and transmitted lights of the most wonderful intricacy, its curve being at the same time necessarily of mathematical purity and precision ; vet at the top of this curve, when it nods over, there is a sudden laxity and giving way, the water swings and jumps along the ridge like a shaken chain, and the motion runs from part to part as it does through a ser pent's body. Then the wind is at work on the extreme edge; and, instead of letting it fling itself off naturally, it supports it and drives it back, or scrapes it off and carries it bodily away : so that the spray at the top is in a con tinual transition tetween forms projec , ed by their avail weight, and forms blown and carried off with the weight overcome; then at last, when it has come down, who shall say what shape that may be called, which shape has none of the great crash where it touches the beach. I think it is that last crash which is the great taskmaster. Nobody can do anything with it. I have seen Copley Fielding come very close to the jerk and nod of the lifted threatening edge, curl it very successfully, and without any look of its having been in papers, down nearly to the beach ; but the final fall has no thunder in it. Turner has tried hard for it once or twice, but it will not do. The moment is given in the " Sidon" of the " Bible Il lustrations," and more elaborately in a painting of " Bamborough" ; in both these cases there is little foam at the bottom, and the fallen breaker looks like a wall, yet grand always; and in the latter picture very beauti fully assisted in expression by the tossing of a piece of cable, which some figures are dragging ashore, and which the breaker flings into the air as it falls. Perhaps the most successful rendering of the forms was in the " Hero and Leander"; but there the drawing was rendered easier by the powerful effect of light which disguised the foam. —Modern Painters, by a Graduate of Oxford. STORIES OF THE SILVER MINES OF PERU.—The In dians have discovered that their silver mines have made their condition rather worse than better. They determine, therefore, to keep secret their knowledge of some rich veins of silver not yet explored by Europeans. Traditions of these mines have been handed down, it is supposed, from father to son, through centuries. Even brandy, which will open the Indian's mouth on any other subject, fails in this case. A few years ago there lived, in the large village of Huancavo, the brothers Don Jose and Don Pedro Irriarte, who were among the wealthiest mine proprietors of Peru. As they had reason to suspect the existence of rich unexplored veins among the neighbouring hills, they sent out a young man in their employ to examine the country, and use the likeliest means of discovery. Ac cordingly, be repaired to a village, where he found lodg ings in the hut of an Indian shepherd, from whom he con cealed his object. In the course of a few months an at tachment had grown up between the youngadventurer and the shepherd's daughter ; and, at last, the young man succeeded so far in his object as to win from the girl a pro mise that she would point out to him the mouth of a rich silver mine. She directed him to follow her, at some dis tance, on a certain day, when she should go out to tend her flock on the hills ; and to notice where she dropped her " manta" (s woollen shawl). There, she told him, he would find the entrance of the mine. The young agent obeyed her directions ; and, after some digging, found his way into a moderately deep shaft, which led to a rich vein of silver. He was busily engaged in breaking off some specimens of the ore when be was surprised be the old shepherd, who congratulated him on the discovery, and of fered assistance. After working together for some hours they rested, and the Indian offered to the young man a cup of chica, which he drank. Soon after drinking he felt unwell, and, as a suspicion of being poisoned flashed upon his mind, he instantly packed the specimens cf ore in his wallet, hastened back to the village, and thence rode to fluancayo. He had only time to explain his adventure to his employers, and point out as well as he could, the lo cality of the mine, for he di: din the night. Another ex ploring party was immediately sent into the neighbour hood, but without success : the Indian and his family had vanished from the place, and no trace of the trine could be discovered. Another story is the following :—A certain Franciscan monk, a passionate gambler, lived at Huan cayo. By his friendly offices he had become a favourite among the Indians, to whom he often applied when in want of money. One day, when he had suffered losses at the hazard-table, he begged of an Indian, who was his relative, to help him out of his poverty. The Indian pro mised assistance on the following evening ; and arrived punctually at the appointed time, with a bag full of silver ore for the monk. This process was repeated several times, until the still needy monk earnestly prayed that he might be favoured with a view of the source from which his wants had been so often supplied. This request also was granted by the friendly relative ; and, accordingly, on the appointed night, three Indians came to the house of the Franciscan, desired that he would allow th.am to hog_ dage his eyes, and, he assenting, carried him away on their shoulders, some miles among the mountains. There they lifted him down, conducted him down a shaft of little depth, and displayed to hint a rich and shining vein of sil ver. When he had amply feasted his sight, and taken ore enough for his present necessities, his eyes were again ban daged, and he was carried home on the shoulders of his guides. On the road he slily untied his rosary, and dropped a bead here and there, that be might have a clue to the mine. Arrived at home, be lay down to rest, in the comfortable hope of exploring the path to wealth on the following day ; but, in the course of about two hours, the Indian, his relative, carne to the door, with his hand full of beads, " Father," said he, as he gave them to the monk, " you lost your rosary on the road !"—Dr. Tschudi's Peru. AN ANCIENT STRONGHOLD.—There is a very remark able subterranean labyrinth, which would alone se ice to render this island (Milo) extremely interesting, from the singularity and ingenuity of its construction, and from its great antiquity, the extent of which it is iropcssible to de termine, although its existence is known historically as a work already ancient after the Peloponnesian war, from its connexion in a very striking manner with the fate of Sopyrus, last king cf Milo, about that period. Even with the assistance of a correct plan of this extraordinary laby rinth, it is no easy matter to give a distinct idea of its na ture, or of its admirable adaptation to the purpose for which it evidently was first contrived—that of a defence to the country. Its turnings and windings, carried down considerably below the level of the sea, are very intricate, and the means of concealment, as well as the precautions taken against attack, most cunningly devised. It is indeed a strange memento of the degradation to which the human race may fail, since they could so prey the one upon the other, and the weaker party were forced thus to burrow like moles in the earth, hunted down by their own fellow creatures. Even now that its secrets are known to all cu rious eyes it is hardly possible to discover the entrance to this subterranean stronghold, so cleverly had it been ar ranged to deceive the eye, as merely a small natural chasm in the rock. Having passed the outer cavern into which this opens, a flight of steps leads down, as it would seem, to the very depths of the earth. The darkness is of course intense, and the air, though far from cold, has that heavy, lifeless chill which is always produced by the tctal absence of all those warm per fumes with which it is impregnated when exposed to the influences of a living nature. A. very ingenious contrivance for defence already pre sents itself at this point—a solid wall of stone faces those steps, and would seem to terminate the vault altogether, but it contains two arrow holes, through which these or or any other deadly missile might be directed against the persons descending the stairs, which communicate with a concealed chamber behind, only accessible by an im mense circuit from the other end of the labyrinth. The workmanship of this curious place is all the more extraor dinary that there is no building whatever, and the whole intricate web, as it were, of chambers and passages, is entirely hewn out of the rock. Taking an abrupt turn from the direction in which the stairs would seem to lead, a low narrow passage, which a man can enter orly on his hands and knees, branees off suddenly, and is met at some distance by a similar contrivance to that already described ; it then doubles again, and after winding about somewhat as if it were a path formed by a gigantic serpent as it pierced its way through the earth and terminates in a second flight of steps. From these a narrow vomitory leads past two chambers, where a few men stationed un seen might do deadly execution on those attempting to penetrate further ; and finally, after descending several times, and twisting round almost in a circle, it opens into a large chamber which is arranged with benches fashioned in the wall, and a fountain in the centre. It has also a communication with the upper world by means of a cre vice in the rock, the wade half of nature half of art, slanting upwards, so that no advantage can be taken of it from the outside even were it perceived. Beyond this again there is a little chamber yet more secret, which was the last refuge and ultimately the tomb of Sopyrus, the conquered king of Milo. It is related that he and his people had sided with the Lacedremonians, and after the war the exasperated Athenians, determined to avenge themselves, came down upon Milo with their armies and speedily subdued the whole island. As soon as all hope was over, and the doom of the unfortunate king but too certain, be fled to these subterranean caverns, whose ex istence was unkown to the enemy, and concealed himself in the labyrinth. Here he lay hid, it is said, for several weeks, the peasants supplying him with food, through the opening which has been described in the large chamber ; at last the men having been observed t o carry prov i s i ons to that quarter, suspicion was excited, and a minute search having been made of the whole ground, his retreat was discovered—still with such means of defence as this labyrinth has been shown to possess, it was not taken without a long resistance. The Athenians had to fight their way inch by inch, and they finally dro ve S o py rus with a few of his followers into the very inmost cell. Even here he made so resolute a stand, that they termi nated the whole business in a summary and most hor rible manner. They heaped up wood and straw before the one narrow inlet, to which they set fire, and soon sti fled the unfortunate king, who thus died as cruel a death as could well he conceived ; buried deep in the heart o f the earth, with the fire all around, from which there was no escape, eating its way towards him.--Dublin Univer sity Magazine. A flower, a tree, a fly. has been enough to give me a delightful train of ideas and emotions.—Fosler. THE LIVERPOOL STANDARIS. THE WEST INDIES AND THEIR TAXATION (From the Jamaica Despatch of September sth.) If a chance exists by which the West Indian planter can hope to survive the ruinous measure which has first evi denced the return to power of a destructive ministry, that chance rests solely on such a reduction of his expenditqje as may place him on a footing with the Spanish colonist. Wages must be brought down—taxes must be greatly re duced. If Great Britain determines recklessly to (loom to destruction a body of loyal 'one who 'have invested their capital, under the faith of British laws, in the soil of the colonies, Great Britain must be prepared to pay the cost of that government which she chooses to maintain over those ruined colonies. Whence, under present cir cumstances is to be derived the amount of revenue neces sary to uphold in its present scale the machinery of go vernment hitherto provided for by our legislature? They who profess to believe that the admission of slave sugar will not be so ruinous as is generally imagined, still admit that a vast number of estates now cultivated must be thrown up. Are the remaining estates—those few that can struggle for an existence amidst surrounding ruin— are these to bear the amount of taxation, at ail times grievous, but which has hitherto been divided among so much greater a number? Perhaps there is no country under Heaven in which, in comparison to its income, the public and parochial taxation is so enormous as it is in Jamaica. The net value of our exports this year hardly exceeds £1,200,000, and our public taxation, expended in the civil and ecclesiastical government of the country, amounts to £400,000, or nearly so—one-third of our pro ductive industry is bestowed for the mere purpose of pay ing the charges of government. How can this continue How are we practically to controvert the old maxim, Ex nihilo Whit fit f How, when the mother country has de clared that the staple out of which all our revenue springs shall be sold also at a rate that will not pay for its pro duction—how are we to maintain the establishment of a Viceroy at a cost of some ten thousand pounds per an num ?—how can we support a judicial establishment en tailing an annual expenditure of £60,000, including £19,000 for salaries to to judges ?—how shall we find means to maintain a police force?—how, in fact, are we to raise £400,000 per annum out of a beggared population ? In 1834, the public revenue raised by taxation, amounted only to £74.000 sterling. and we were not worse governed. If the expenses of judicature were comparatively nothing, the laws were administered as impartially, and although we had not the luau). y of viewing three lavender-robed judges solemnly seated in banco, justice was not the less easily and far more speedily attainable. We have now an array of judges, great and small, whose united salaries amount to one-fourth of the whole amount of public re venue raised in 18:34—and to these we have added an ex penditure of some £40,000 for a police force, and we find crime increased 100 per cent. since that period. Why should we need greater and more expensive establishments than we did in 1834? Is it because we have receded in prosperity—because we are less able now than we were twelve years ago to bear our public burthens ? Commerce was flourishing then, and our agriculture had not felt the blighting effects of the Emancipation Act—we were then content to take the law from a learned chief justice, who, on his part, considered his independence sufficiently se cured by an annual vote of £2,400 per annum. Mais nous aeons change tout cela. The public revenue of £74,000 in 1834 has reached £380,000 in 1816, and we defy any one to tell us what public good has resulted out of this enormous increase of taxation. It is manifest that we can no longer meet it—and it behoves all classes of the community to unite in resisting the further imposi tion of such a burthen upon an impoverished people. This is a question in which all are interested. The sugar planter, the coffee grower, and especially the small settler, the labourer—all are deeply interested in reducing the burthens which a lavish and inconsiderate legislature have imposed upon the people. With this view, there should be meetings throughout the island. Let no member go down to the House in the approaching session without in structions from his constituents on this important ques tion. Economy or ruin are the alternatives. It cannot be said that a reduction of our present expenditure will involve a breach of faith. When present Establishments were erected, and present salaries fixed, our position was widely different. The interests of agricuture, from which all revenue ultimately proceeds, are now paralysed—who is to pay the taxation of the country if it be impossible with the same pressure as hitherto ? Even the import duty cannot remain at its present amount, supposing that prudence should admit of its re-enactment at all. The wages of the labourer must be reduced, and the principal argument which has been used against any reduction in the price of labour is, that the high price of provisions caused by the import duty has rendered a reduction im possible, or at least unjust. If we are to be endangered by free trade from abroad, surely we are entitled to free trade at home. We hope, therefore, to find our countrymen up and stirring throughout the island. A meeting in every parish, and in every district, should be convened, and a petition signed by all classes in favour of reduced taxation. Wherever the burthen can be thrown off entirely, an ef fort should be made to do so. The cost of the Executive Government should be paid by England altogether, and her increased revenue from slave sugar would enable her to do this without her being sensible of it. There seems to be no equitable or just reason why the colony should pay for a vice-regal establishment, when the means of making a provision for it have been mercilessly torn from us by the present government. THERE SHALL BE NO MORE SEA.—A ship is resting , on the ocean ;it is the middle watch ; there is not a breath , of wind; the sails flap on the masts. The wheel is use- , less in the steersman's bands ; there is a great calm ; the waters are still, as though in expectation of some coming event. The moon looks down silently on the fair deckof the stately vessel; alt nature seems to listen ; the sailors of the watch can no longer tell the story of former dan gers; silently they gaze upward at the quiet sky, and little heed they that their last peril is at hand. Olt ! in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye, the bright blue sky hath become black, the face of the golden moon has changed to blood—a tempest lashes the angry waves ! It is the last storm. The ocean is writhing in its dying agony ; the fiat has gone forth and there shall be no more sea! What of the night, mariner, what of the night ? Again there is light in the heavens; the blood-red moon hath passed away ; the streaks of a dawn, brighter than ever yet illumined the horizon of the once again stilly ocean, blend with the fires of a burning world. It is " the last day !" The waters sink ; the dry land appears ; the dead of the battle and the wreck awake again to life ; and the ocean-murders which the waters have cover, d, as with a shroud, are revealed ; the dead are living witnesses against their murderers. Mariner, what of the morn ? There is no more sea. Lo! the ships of a thousand na vies add their wrecks to the fires of the last day. Their crews stand before " the great white throne," and the " workings" of many days shall be a fearful " reckon ing." Oh ye whose business has been in " the great waters," ye who have gone " down to the sea in ships and seen the wonders of the Lord," have ye glorified Him ? Ye who have staggered to and fro like drunken men in the storm, and been at your " wits' end," when He hath, in answer to prayer, said to the waves " Peace, be still," have ye praised Him ? Praised Him in a life devoted to his service, from whom cornetts help ? Has Christ been the anchor of your souls? Has your com pass pointed Zion-ward ? Alt! ye who now walk the deck in the pride of seamanship, remember such will be the questions, master and mariner, captain and ship's company, must answer to their own souls and unto the judge of the whole earth," at the " last day," when there shall be " no more sea."—The Last Day. limit EVICTIONS.—Those who have never known what it is to have anxieties as to a provision for them selves or their families, a want of reflection may lead to the commission of acts that their better judgment would tell them was wholly indefensible. " The wounds I might have healed ! The human sorrow and smart ! And yet it never was in my soul To play so ill a part. But evil is wrought by want of thought, As well as want of heart I" And so it is but too often : when it is considered that the small holding of the poor occupier stands between him and beggary, though the possession may seem insignifi cant, and the provision a poor one, we cannot wonder at the tenacity with which he clings to it ; his wants are few and easily satisfied ' • his patience and his natural light heartedness make his condition bearable, insupportable as that condition must otherwise be. In the beautiful lan guage of a young poet— " The shelter that kept out weather and winds Had the magical name of home ; A w rd that is dearer to v.riglish minds Than palace or lordly dome. There were garments rude, and homely food, Fora little loving band; And a wife was there. once young and fair To clasp the horny hand, And bless it—through God—that its strength could give, Not store for old age..but the weans to live ! For the poor have hearts, and 'tis thought they know A feeling of joy from one of woe." Let us for a mom nt suppose ourselves in the place of the evicted tenant. We see those most dear to us—and the affection of the Irish peasant for his family is proverbial —threatened with absolute ruin, for the sake of carrying out some projected improvement : and how should we feel towards him who made the happiness of his fellow-crea tures of such little account, that he prefers the improve ment of his land, accompanied by our misery and wretch edness, to the attempt at the improvement of the same land, accompanied by our happiness and prosperity ? We straitly must regard him as heartless and tyrannical. It i s humiliating to us as men, that so little value should beset on our happiness ; it is humiliating to us as Christians, living in a Christian country, that the precepts of that Gospel which we profess to believe, should be thus openly violated, and that we should so far forget one of the two commandments on which hang all the law and the pro. pla is—" thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." But by a righteous retribution, misdeeds, even in this world, by whomsoever perpetrated, brig their own punishment along with them. The carrying out of the clearunce sys tem reacts upon the very improvement it is intended to advance and obstructs it. The tenant who is permitted to remain must feel that it is not from any regard to himself, but probably from his being more wealthy, or having a better house than his poorer neighbour, that he is allowed to enjoy it; and though he will not be sorry to get an in crease to his farm, yet he will, and he must, feel the wrong that has been inflicted on another; he will know that the same thing may hsppen to himself, should, at a future time, fresh measures of improvement seem to require his removal ; his exertions are paralyzed, for he knows that immutable as the truths of eternal justice are said to be, they have no existence for him. The frame of society at large is shaken by such acts, the social ties are broken, the links that bind man to man are severed, the observati ons of the moralist and the philosopher, on the mutual de pendence of man upon his fellows, is felt to be a mockery and delusion, and the very name of improvement becomes associated with human suffering, its track marked by roof less dwellings and starving children—its history written in the tears of the widow and the orphan.—Dublin Univer sity Magazine. MEXICAN HIGHWAYMEN, Robbers in Mexico are what pedlars used to be in Eng land ; they keep up the life in the villages, plunder wher ever they can, cheat where they cannot plunder, ride stout horses, and lead, on the whole, a varied, and sometimes a very gay life. One of the American travellers saw, at one of the villages where the staee changed horses, a dashing and picturesque figure gaudily dressed, who rode by on a handsome horse, richly caparisoned. On inquiring if the coachman knew him, the answer was that he knew him perfectly well, and that he was captain of a band of rob bers who had plundered the stage several times since the whip and reins had been in his hands. On the American urging the question why he had not brought the robber to punishment the answer was, " that he would be sure to be shot by some of the hand the next time he passed the road ;" the honour of Mexican thieves being peculiarly nice upon this point. It appeared that the dashing horse man had gone through the village on a reconnaissance, but probably not liking the obvious preparations of the travellers, had postponed his capture. The mode of managing things in this somnolent country is remarkable for its tranquillity. The American, who narrates the circumstance, had taken with him from Vera Cruz four dragoons; but on accidentally inquiring on the road into the state of their arms, he found that but one carabine had a lock in fighting order, and even that one was not loaded ; on which he dismissed the guard, and trusted to his companions, who were well armed. The Mexican travellers, taking the matter in another way, never carry arms, but prepare a small purse " to be rob bed of," of which they arc robbed accordingly. A few miles from Perote the road winds round a high hill, and the passengers generally get out and walk. The Americans on this occasion had left their arms in the carriage, but their more prudent chief immediately ordered them to carry them in their hands, and in the course of their ascent they pounced upon a group of ruffians whom the driver pronounced to be robbers i • and who, but for their arms, would probably have attacked them. In less than a month aft, r this, five or six Americans having left their arms in the stage at this spot, were attacked, and stripped of every cent. belonging to them. It must be owned that this country has fine advantages for the gentlemen of the road. The highway between Vera Cruz and Mexico is the great conduit of life in this coun try. Nearly all the commerce goes by that way, and 99 out of every 100 travellers pass by the same route. The chief portion of the road is through an absolute desert. It frequently winds up the sides of mountains, and then is bordered by forests of evergreens, forming a capital shel ter for the land pirate, the whole being a combination of tiounslow-heath and Shooter's-hill on a grand scale, and making highway robbery not merely a showy but a safe speculation, the gaming table being the chief recruiting office for the whole battalion of Mercury. The statistics of gaming might borrow a chapter from Mexico. The passion for play is public, universal, and unbounded. It is probably even superior to the passion for pulque. Every one plays, and plays for all that he is worth in the world, and often for more. But he has his resource—the road. A man who has lost his last dollar, but who is determined to play on till lie dies, lays himself under strong temptations of coveting his neighbour's goods. The hour when the stages pass is known to every one; the points of the road where they must go slowly up the hill, are familiar to all highway recollections. Asso ciates are expeditiously found among the loiterers, who, after their own ruin, sit round the room watching the luck of others. The band is formed in a moment ; they take the road without delay, post themselves in the ever greens, enjoy the finest imaginable prospect, and breathe the most refreshing air, until the creaking of the coach wheels puts them on the alert. They then exhibit their weapons, the passengers produce their little purses, the stage is robbed of everything portable, or convertible into cash, the band return to the gaming table, fling out their coin, and play till they are either rich or ruined once more. Some time after an adventure, such as we have descri bed, the stage was robbed near Puebla by a gang, all of whom bad the appearance of gentlemen. When the ope ration of rifling every body and everything was completed, one of the robbers observed "that they must not be looked on as professional thieves, for they were gentlemen ; but having been unfortunate at play, they were forced to put the company to this inconvenience for which they re quested their particular pardon." An incident of this order occurring in the instance of a public personage, some years before, long excited remark. able interest. The Swiss Consul had been assassinated at noon-day. A carriage had driven up to his door, out of which three men came, one in the dress of a priest. On the doors being opened they seized and gagged the porter, rushed into the apartment where the Consul was sitting, murdered and robbed him, and then retreated. None knew whence they came, or whither they went; but the murdered man in his dying struggle had torn a button of the coat of one of the robbers, which they found still clenched in his hand. A soldier was shortly after seen with more money than he could account for. Suspicion naturally fell upon him ; his quarters were searched, and one of his coats was torn off. He was convicted, but re lied on a pardon through the Colonel Yanez, chief aide de-camp of the President Santa Anna, who was his accom plice in the transaction. On being brought out for execu tion, and placed on the fatal bench where criminals are strangled, he cried out " Stop, I will acknowledge my ac complices ;" and he pronounced the name of the colonel. Seam! , was immediately made in the house of Yanez, and a letter in cipher was found connecting him with this and other robberies. This letter was left in the hands of one of the judges. Ile was offered a large sum to destroy it, and refused. In a few days after he was found dead, as was supposed. by poison. The paper was then transferred to another judge, who was offered the same bribe, and ,ahn promised to destroy it; but, on conferring with his crest, though he took the money, lie shrank from the ac tual destruction of the document, and kept it in silence. Yanez was brought to trial, and believing that the paper was no longer in existence, treated the charge with con tempt. The paper was produced, and the aide-de camp was condemned and executed.—Blackwood. FRENEY'S RIDE. (From The Knight of Gwynne.) " Have you heard the news of the notorious robber be ing taken ?" said Lionel. " Who do you mean? Barrington, is it?" " No; Freney." " Freney ! taken—when—how—where?" " It's curious enough," said Lionel, coolly, seating him self to read the paragraph without noticing the eagerness of Daly's manner ; " the fellow seems to have a taste for snorting matters, which no personal fear could eradicate. His capture took place this wise. He went over to Don caster, to be present at the Spring Meeting, where he betted freely, and won largely. There happened, how ever, to come a reverse to his fortune, and on the last day of the running he lost every thing, and was obliged to ap ply for assistance to a former come anion, who, it would seem, was some hundred pounds in his debt; this worthy having no desire to refund, threatened the police. Freney became exasperated, knocked him down on the spot, and then turning smartly round, chucked one of the jockeys from his saddle, sprang on the horse's back, and made off like lightning : the other, only stunned for a moment, was soon on his legs again, and the cry of Freney !it was Freney, the robber !' resounded throughout the race course. The scene must then have been a most exciting one, for the whole mounted population, with one accord, gave chase. Noblemen and country gentlemen, fox-hun ters, farmers, and black-legs, away they went, Freney about a quarter of a mile in front, and riding splendidly. " That I'm sure of," said Daly, earnestly ; " go on." " Mellington took the lead of every one, mounted on that great steeple-chase horse he is so proud of—no fences too large for him, they say—but the robber—and what a good judge of country the fellow must be—left the heavy ground, and preferred even breasting a long hill of grass land with several high rails, to the open country below, where the clay soil distressed his horse. By this manoeu vre, says the newspaper, he was obliged to make a circuit which again brought the main body of his pursuers close up with him, and now his dexterity as a horseman became apparent, for while riding at top speed, and handling his horse with the most perfectjudgment, he actually contrived to divest himself of his heavy great coat. He had but just accomplished this very difficult task, when Lord Melling ton once more came up : there was a heavy dyke in front, with a double post and rail, and at this they rushed des perately, each, apparently, calculating on the other being thrown, or at least checked. " Freney, now only a dozen strides in advance, turned in his saddle, and drawing a pistol from his breast, took an aim—as steadily, too, as if firing at a mark. Lord Mellington saw the dreadful purpose of the robber, he shouted aloud, and pulling up with all his might, he bent down to the very mane of his horse. Freney pulled the trigger, and with one mad plunge Lord Mellington's horse came head foremost to the ground with his rider under him. Freney was not long the victor, the racer he be strode breasted the high' rail, and unable to clear it, fell heavily forward, smashing the frail timbers before him, and pitching the rider on his head. He was up in a se cond and away ; for about twenty yards his speed was im mense, then reeling, be staggered forwards and fell sense less : before he rallied he was taken, and in handcuffs. — There, is a description of the fellow," said Lionel, " and by Jove, one would think that they were describing some wild denizen of the woods, or some strange animal of sa vage life, so eloquent is the paragraph about his appear ance and personal strength." STATISTICS OF WESLEYANISM.—The Wesleyan Con ference territorially covers every parish in England, with 1,685 ministers under its orders, 15,000 local preachers, and 30,000 leaders, stewards, and trustees, with 468,313 members of society acknowledging its sway, and perhaps 2,000,000 hearers affording their countenance. The im mense amount of their chapel and other real property has been estimated at more than three millions sterling ; while the annual revenue of the body, from every source, is probably not much less than a million. The income of their missionary society for the year 1845.6 was more than £112,000 ; in 1840, by a mighty effort, £171,687 of chapel debts were extinguished, and the Centenary Fund fell little short of a quarter of a million. The product of the weekly pence and quarterly shillings [these are mi nima] contributed in the classes—of the yearly and July collections—suffices for the maintenance (in far greater average comfort than any other body of Christian minis ters) of more than fifteen hundred ministers, with their wives and families : for perhaps no married minister re ceives less than an equivalent of £175 per annum, and perhaps none more than £350. The Theological Insti tutions at Richmond and Didsbury contain seventy-four students ; the Kingswood and Woodhouse-grove schools provide for the education of two hundred pupils; Propri etary Schools have been established at Sheffield and Taunton; the last return shows that their Sunday• schools are attended by XOO,OOO scholars ; and of the 700 day. schools which it was determined to form at the close of 1843, more than one-half have been already called into existence.—Church of England Quarterly Review. CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS LIBt,RTY. (From the Gloucester Journal.) The Leeds Intelligencer affords us a somewhat curiostls illustration of what is meant by "civil and religious liberty," by those who find it a very easy and convenient theme for after-dinner eloquence. Our contemporary, describing a confirmation holden at Woodhouse. by the Lord Bishop of Ripon, says—" His Lordship's visit was attended with an especial interest, and will, we doubt not, be long remembered by many, from the circutnstrance of his holding a confirmation during the evening service, for the benefit of some young persons who had nut been al lowed to leave their work to attend the confirmation on Friday afternoon. His lordship's kindness in doiriq so was deeply felt by the clergy, and was calculated to make a strong impression on the young persons themselves, and we hope may not be lost uaou those who threw hindrances in the way of their makino a solemn religious profession." We do not quote this as being by any means extraor dinary. " Civil and religious liberty," does not mean confirmation, or any other rite of that old harlot, the Church of England. It does not mean " liberty" to join in her ceremonies, or make a profession of her faith. It means " libel ty" to abuse and malign her—" liberty" to erect the meeting-house on her ruins. It is a one-sided " liberty," and its great advocates have no notion of any thing so absurd as allowing the children in their factories and workshops to go to church to be confirmed. That is not the sort of " liberty" they have expended their breath upon. If it bad been an Anti-Corn-Law tea-party, or a nice little scheme for bagging pence to build a dissenting chapel, there would have been no earthly objection to sending the children to swell the crowd or the wallet ; but a confirmation by a bishop! Turn the tables. Suppose some churchman had refused permission to the children in his mills to take part in some ranting jubilee. Would there ever have been an end to the pious horror which the intolerable bigotry would have awakened ? We dread to think of the torrent of ex ecration with which the whole Church and every Church man would have been visited. The Nonconformist would have choked with indignant wails ; the Patriot would have groaned in agony of spirit at the villainy and tyran nical injustice ; and every pulpit orator in the land would have sent forth his richest stores of Establishment abuse at so flagrant an instance of blind bigotry. But there is no bigotry with these gentry out of the Church of Eng land. It would be bigotry worthy almost of flame and sword for a Churchman to " throw hindrances in the way of" Dissenters " making a solemn religious profession ;" but the same thing in a dissenter is-- " civil and religi ous liberty." THE AMERICAN FREE TRADE TARIFFS. It is now near some fifteen months ago that Mr. Web ster, the distinguished American lawyer and senator, delivered a memorable speech at Faneuil-hall, in Phila delphia, in defence of native industry. He clearly showed that the infant manufactures of the United States would be strangled by competition with the matured establish ments of Great Britain. He showed that the policy of protection had been sanctioned by the patriotism of Washington, the sagacity of Jefferson, and the cairn sense of Madison. He told the small tradesmen of Boston that their labours would be superseded by the influx of foreign produce, and that all those occupations in which men with moderate means were masters, would be swamped by the monied leviathans, and that, when too late, they would behold masses of labour ground between masses of capital. His warning voice was disregarded. The Legislature of America, bitten by the free-trade mania, determined to open their ports to British manu factures, in gratitude to Sir Robert Peel, who had opened our ports to the agricultural produce of America, and the beginning of the end is now being shadowed forth in the distance, and not indistinctly. The New York corres pondent of the Times, who writes under the signature of " A Genevese Traveller," in his communication of the 15th September, gives a most gloomy account of the state of trade in the United States. He is fully competent to form an accurate judgment on the subject ; he has re sided many years in the country, and has a very re sponsible duty to perform. Let our readers, then, ponder over the following sentences, which we extract from this letter : " Everything in relation to business is in a state of un certainty; all present importations are made on a falling market, while the season for commercial operations is ra pidly gliding away. Among the importers of dry goods, the month of September is presumed to decide, in some measure, the character of the season for business. It is in this month that our jobbers generally make their largest purchases. This is a class of dealers between the importer and the country merchant. If any opinion is to be formed of the business of the season, by the purchases they have made, that opinion will be unfavourable. Their purchases have been cautious and limited, principally at auction. The auction sales of domestic manufactures, when com pared with foreign fabrics, have been large. Under the influence of the new tariff, the manufacturers, in most cases, appear to be panic-stricken, and are emptying their warehouses, and sending the contents to public auction. In most cases, sales are effected at a very great loss, com pared to the selling prices previous to the passage of the new tariff. Whether, by reducing the price of the raw material, and the wages of the labourer, &c., they can obtain enough by these auction sales to replace their old stock, is the great question. If they can, they will be sa tisfied to run their manufactories for a year or two, with out the expectation or hope of obtaining one cent. of pro fit, but jn the full belief Mat the next Congress will re peal Me present tariff law." The italics are our own. But what does the whole ex tract denote but a downward career in prosperity ? Ame rican labour is about to be crushed under the giant wheels of British machinery. Native industry is to be victimised by Kee Trade, by a fearful competition ; and how are the capitalists to stand their ground ? By reducing the wages of their labourers. A notable scheme surely to give hap piness to a majority of the people. The bucks and swells of New York are to be indulged in cheap foreign clothing, just as Sir Robert Peel proposed that the idle rich among ourselves should be enabled to buy cheap carriages from Belgium. But what is the ultimate hope of the American producers ? Why, that Congress should retrace its steps and revive Protectionist principles, which is the very policy of our own Conservatives in reference to domestic agriculture. Thus on both sides of the Atlantic there appear to have been settlements which settle nothing—a pretty strong evidence that the world is not growing older in wisdom.—Newcastle Journal. THE FAMINE IN IRELAND. The Morning Post, of Wednesday, contains a letter of some length, from the pen of Richard Oastler, Esq.. conveying an emphatic and solemn appeal to the religious principles of the country, in reference to the dearth in Ireland, which the writer, justly bel eying that such visi tations " do not come by chance or without a purpose," ascribes as a punishment for the national sin of forget ing God, and setting up man's wisdom in the place of His, in the Councils of the Kingdom and the public acts of the State. The following extract from the concluding part of it will afford a pretty clear understanding of the tenor of this address, and supply subject for reflection : _ _ " We have shut the 13ible and closed the books of the Church. We have thrown away the reins that curbed our passioos and our lusts. We have unbridled our covetous ness—corrupted and silenced our Church—encouraged idolatry—oppressed the poor—and forgotten God! And, trusting to the wily and crafty sons of science and philoso phy, we have laughed at his laws—we have made his threatenings the subjects of derision! And what then ? Our triumph is complete! Last year a bill was enacted by Parliament for the express purpose of removing the name and influence of God from the education of the people. By the Irish Colleges Act, it was dared, for the first time in the history of tois country, to frame a Government measure whereby it was declared, that the only power whom the people could not tolerate was the power of the Almighty ! Yes, human wisdom has obtained its tri umph ! Truth languishes, idolatry is rampant, commerce is emancipated, labour is free, and the poor are reduced 'to live upon the coarsest sort of food!' But, what then, I ask ? Is prosperity the fruit of our aban donment of the principles of our old Constitution? Does plenty crown our rejection of the word of Gol ? Are the people made better and happier by this tri umph of cold and pitiless philosophy over the holy and life-giving principles of Divine Truth ? No ! ' The triumphing of the wicked is short !' No sooner was the top stone to the temple of human wisdom ele vated—at the very moment when the last attack on our constitutional protective principle succeeded—just when the owners of capital had removed the only remaining impediment to their uninterrupted tyranny—even before the session of Parliament had closed that crowned their efforts, by granting them unlimited freedom of action (of that Parliament which, by its determined adhesion to the New Poor Law, bad refused to acknowledge the right of the poor to any share of Nature's bounty, or even to " the crumbs that fall from the rich man's table,")—yes, when philosophy was indeed rampant over religion, and when man fancied that he had proved himself to be wiser and stronger than God—then the whole scheme of man's invention was thrown into confusion ; and, before the session was prorogued, the lie was by themselves stamped upon every preceding Act? In terror and dis may the right of the poor was recognised by law—even in Ireland, where hitherto for wages, the owners of pro perty had conceived they had a right to starve or banish the people at their pleasure! " The affrighted philosophic legislators, who had so often coolly ' argued the case, and bad always cruelly de cided against the right of the poor, were, in the moment of alarm, in defiance of every Principle of their creed, constrained by dire necessity, to pass a law, giving to th e poor of Ireland 0) a RIGHT to put their hands: into the pockets of the rich, and, without limit, therefrom to ex act all that they required ! Nay, more, if money cannot be found in the coffers of the Irish landlords, by that law they are compelled to borrow from England, on the se curity of their estates, as many millions of pounds as the poor shall need ! Those immense sums, thus wrung in terror from the Irish landlords, being subject to repay ment with interest. Thus has the RIGHT of the poor to sustenance been recognised by the philosophers them selves—they had no time, no power, to argue. In a mo ment of alarm and terror they conveyed the Irish estates from the Lords to the paupers! " Philosophy had done its work—it had reduced the ppooowrerttdt philosophy ohliveo nthecoareest sort of food'—when, by a can neither control nor compre hend, that ' food' was withheld ! Yes, sir, philosophy bhyadthe sameunbarred the gate on universal competition—when power tile course of trade was suddenly clogged, and those who, by their representatives in Par liament, had successfully resisted every effort to regulate the r manufactures on the principle of humanity. were forced to seek shelter from ruin in,' shorter hours of labour,' " The sounds of triumph linger in our ears, only to be silenced by the bowlings of despair ! " It is now admitted, even by the Queen's ministers, Oct. 13, Is4d. that all the boasted human aiMity ,is vain—an order in Council having been issued, by which we are directed to offer up a prayer to that same Almightt rower whom we have in vain attempted to dethrone, to stie humbly before him for relief in the distressing visitation under which we now suffer. Relief is to be implored; but, as yet, not one word is uttered by the Church, the Queen, or the Government upon the imperative necessity of the re acknowledgment of the supremacy of God, of strict obedience to his laws, and of the entire conformity of the principles of our legislation to his holy word. No authori tative injunction has been promulgated, to curb our selfishness, by commanding every man to look to his own daily consumption of food, with a spirit of willingness to forego all unnecessary consumption thereof ; thus pro viding an enlarged store for the destitute by a sacrifice on the part of the affluent." " I do not believe that famine comes by chance. I be lieve that there is a speci ftl cause for the blight of the po tatoes. I know that, in defiance of every principle laid down in the Word of Gpd, and acknowledged by His Church, millions of labourers have been reduced to live on that " coarse food," and that under the recommenda tion of Bishops of our Church, laws have been made for the avowed purpose of forcing millions more to live on the same root, or, as they express it, " a coarser sort of food." I know, also, that in the moment of the triumph of those principles of selfishness on which that inhuman scheme was founded,patatoes were blighted! It is our duty to discover the cause of this visitation, not by the study of human philosophy, but by the humble and persevering search for truth in the Holy Bible." "Love NEVER DIES."—On Saturday, at Pyle, Mr, Thos. Harding, of the parish of Newton Nottage, aged 69 years, was married to Mrs. Mary Austin, of Pyle, aged 71 years,—their united ages being I , lo'years! It itr said in their youthful days—nearly 50 years ago—they had been " sweethearts"—bad quarrelled—parted—and had now, after an interval of half a century, redeemed' those pledges of affection, which, in the heyday of their youth, they made to each other. Such is the course of love ! JOINT STOCK COMPANIES.—We learn from a Varna mentary return, that before September, 1844, when the act 7 and 8 Victoria, cap. 110. to regulate joint-stock companies was passed, there were 994 companies in ex istence ; and that from November, 1844, to June last, as • many as " 1,633 companies were provisionally registered." Railways form the principal feature in the provisionally' registered companies. Such companies are required to be completed and registered within twelve months, and it appears that of the 1,G33 companies called into existence only 115 were completed. SECOND EDITION. Standard-office, Two o'clock. LIVERPOOL CORN EXCHANGE.—Tars DAY. rfWe continue to receive, on the whole, very limited ar rivals coastwise and from Ireland ; and those in from abroad since this day week are only moderate, except States and Canadian Flour, of which we have to report a fair supply. At this day's market there was a fair demand for most kinds of old and new Wheat, at an advance of Id. to 2d. per 701bs. on the rates of this day week. • Irish and foreign barrel flour was steady in value. Bonded Flour Is. dearer than this day week. Barley 3d. per bushel, and Malt 3s. to 4s. per quarter, higher than this day week. Beans and Pease remain unvaried, except Egyptian, which are Is. per quarter lower. In Oats and Oatmeal no alteration. Indian Corn still in request, and although scarce, ob tained from 535. to 545. to-day. ARRIVALS OF CORN, From the 6th to the 12th October, inclusive IRE- (COAST- (CANADA U. STATS LAND. WISE. AND AND TOTAL. COLON'S EUROPE. .--------- ------ Wheat .. ... Qrs. 1885 r 376 5517 777 g Barley ......Qrs. 433 433 Malt Qrs. 11 1150 1161 Oats Qrs. 1239 74 1580 2893 Rye Qrs. 8 g • Beans Qrs. 50 118 24,10 2568 Pease Qrs. 62 62 ShelledßarleyQrs. Indian Corn. Qrs. 3 0 59 3059 Oatmeal .. Loads 789 85 I 874 Flour. .... Sacks 1823 5 1828 Ditto EXPORTS.—Foreign. Wheat,— qrs.; Barley,— qrs. ; Pease' qrs. ; Oats, qrs.; Indian Corn, qrs.; Oatmeal, sacks ; Flour, 108 brls.—lreland. Wheat, 1610 qrs. ; Bar ley,— qrs.; Beans, qrs ; Oats,— qrs ; Indian Corn, 4950 qrs. ; Oatmeal, 3g sks ; Flour, 162 sks 5064 brls —Coastwise. Wheat, 600 qrs. ; Barley, 32 qrs.; Malt, qrs.; Oats, 262 qrs.; Beans, 62 qrs.; Pease, 58 qrs.; Oatmeal, a sacks Indian Corn, 546 qrs. ; Flour, 232 sacks 3062 brls. Average prices of Grain,for the week ending Oct. 3. 1R46. Wheat 545. ed. I Barley 365. gd. I Oats 245. 3d. Rye 354. 5d Beans.. 435. 4d. j Pease.. 455. 4d. Aggregate average of the six weeks. Wheat 505.11 d. I Barley 335.11 d. I Oats.. 235. 6d. I Rye 335. 511. Beans.. 41s. Sti. I Pease.. 40s. 10d. Duty on Foreign Producethisweek Wheat 7sod darley: 2s ud ) Oats ..... Is Od I Rye., 28 Od Beans 2504 Pease .. 2s Od Ind. Corn Os Od Flour s4s 2/1 Duty on British Colonial. Wheat.. Is. Od. I Barley.. Is. Od. I Oats, Is, od. I Rye.., IS. Od. Beans.. Is. od. Pease.. Is. Od. I Flour. 4id. cwt. Liverpool Averages, week ending Sept. 29, 1846. Wheat, 1423 qrs., price 53s .scl; Barley, 36 qrs., price 32s gd. ; Oats, 23n qrs., price 28s. 9d. ; Rye, qrs., price Os. Od. i Beans, 8 qrs.. 50s. Od. Pease, qrs., price s. Od. Duties paid in Liverpool, week ending Sep. 24. Foreign.—Wheat, 544 qrs.; Barley, qrs.; Malt, qrs ; Oats. 819 qrs. ; Rye, qrs. ; Beans, 515 qrs ; Pease, 707 qrs.; Indian Corn, 439 qrs. ; Oatmeal, loads ; Flour, 20 barrels. Colonial.—Wheat, 207 qrs. ; Pease, 46 qrs.; Flour, 2091 brl3 LONDON GAZETTE.-TUESDAY, OCT. 6. PARTNERSIIIPS DISSOLVED. Nicholson and Goddard, Lincoln, architects—Banks and Har rison, Birkenhead, millwrights—J. Booth and T. Thompson, Blyton and Morton, Lincolnshire, railway contractors—Moore and J. Dale, Lis erpool, shipbrokers —J. Carr and J. Bagshaw. Sheffield, grocers—W. Ingram and H. Johnson, Midhurst, Sus sex, surgeons—W. Ailcock and J. Fewkes, New Basford, Not tinghamshire, lace manufacturers—Llewellyn ard Ryland, Bir mingham, britannia metal manufacturers—J. Williams and T. Weisby, Liverpool, coachmakers—T. G. and J. Johnson, Coven try, brewers—H. and J. Ramsey, High-street, Poplar, auction eers—A. Moody and Co , Glasgow, merchants. DECLARATIONS OF DIVIDENDS. _ . _ R. B. Preston, Leigh, Gloucestershire, coal dealer. J. Crabtree and W. Burnley, Tustead, Lancashire, woollen manufacturer. BANKRUPTCY ANNULLED. Charles Beans, Winchester, miller. BANKRUPTS. John Burton, Liverpool, auctioneer, Oct. 2 , , Nov. 20. at 19 o'clock, at the Liverpool District Court of Bankruptcy. Solici tors, Mr. Walker, Furnival's-inn ; and Mr. Bradley, Liverpool. Official assignee, Mr. Cazenove, Liverpool. William Boomer, West Derby, Lancashire, joiner. Oct. 20, Nov. 13, at 11 o'clock, at the Liverpool District Court f Bank ruptcy. Solicitors, Messrs. Norris and Co., Bedford.row; and Mr Thompson, Liverpool. Official assignee, Mr. Morgan, Li verpool. William Maw, Birkenhead, builder, Oct, 13, Nov. 24, at 11 o'clock. at the Liverpool District Court of Bankruptcy. Solici tors, Mr. Woodroffe, Lincoln's inn; and Mr. Reade, Birken head. Official assignee, Mr. Morgan. Liverpool. Edward 13cney. Tunbridge. Kent, licensed victualler. Wm. Mullett, West Peckham. paper manufacturer. William George Grossmith, Romsey, Extra, brewer. Samuel Page. Nottingham, currier. Henry Parratt, Bristol, coach builder. DIVIDENDS Oct. 27, B. L. M. Rothschild, Great Queen-street, Lincoln's inn -fields, diamond merchant—Oct. 27, W. Mitchel, Finsbury place, South, and elsewhere, furniture dealer—Oct. 27, A. Bun nett, Bridge-house-place, Newington-causeway, blind maker — Oct. 37, M. Allen, Waltham. Holy-cross, Essex. apothecary — Oct. 27, H. Clarke, George-street; Mansion-house. lock manu facturer—Oct. 30, C. J. Edmunds, Bluntisham, Huntingdon shire apothecary—Oct. 30, W. Chandler, Minories, chymist— Oct. 31, J. Garsed, jun., Leeds, Sax manufacturer—Oct. 29, C• Lewis, Bath, innkeeper—Nov. p, J. Partridge, Cheltenham, coal merchant—Nov. 6, T. Read, Manchester, cigar dealer. CERTIFICATES to be granted, unless cause be 'shown to the contrary, on the day of meeting. Oct. 28, J. Turner, Ludgate.hl,l, jeweller—Oct. 27, E Joneo , Liverpool, ironmonger—Oct. 27, J. Carlysle, West Derby. Lan cashire, builder—Nov. 14, S. Griffiths, Wolverhampton, whole sale druggist. CERTIFICATES To be granted by the Court of Review, unless cause be shown to the contrary on or before Oct. J Staveley, J. Runn, baker, Por man-square, haberdasher - • `„ Munchester, warehousen an—W. Watts, Doncaster , MiliW r n 6-- M. Hobson, Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire, corn merchant — T. Edwards, Llansaintffraid, Montgomeryshire. surgeon. SCOTCH SEQUESTRATIONS. D. Gray, Edinburgh, solicitor. W. Finley, Walkerton, Fifeshire. FROM THE LONDON GAZETTE OF FRIDAY, PARTNERSHIPS DISSOLVED. W. Pass and J. Jarman, Sheffield, farmers—S. Harrison, .1. Kendall, and T. Hampson, Wednesbury, Staffordshire, coach• smiths; as far as regards J. Kendall—J. Stott and J Williams., Manchester, fire-engine manufacturers—J. Greenhalgh, Bridge, and J. Dawson, Manchester, gingham manufacturers—Blind less and Fildcs, Manchester, calico printers—R. Cooke and E. Hodson, Manchester, hatters—M. and T. Clarke, Derby, ma sters. DECLARATIONS OF DIVIDENDS. 11. Emanuel, Hanover-square, goldsmith. M. Emanuel, Hanover-square, goldsmith. BANKRUPTCIES ANNULLED Oct. 2, Charles Paddon, Charlotte-terrace, New-cut, Lambeth, slopseller. Oct. 2, Randle Bower, Stalybridge, Lancashire, cotton-spin ner. BANKRUPTS. Henry Ayres, Liverpool. jeweller, Oct. 23, Nov. WI, at twelve o'clock, at the Liverpool Di trict Court of Bankruptcy. Solici tors, Mr. Oliver, Old Jewry; and Messrs. Evans and Son, Li verpool. Official assignee, Mr. Cazenove, Liverpool. John Rumsey, Dean-street, Shadwell, glue-piece maker. William Marsden, Manchester, commission agent. Thomas Savage, Nunney, Somersetshire, butcher. Henry Charles Howells, jun., Albion chambers, St. Werberg. Bristol, sharebroker. Robert Harrison, Mold, Flint4iire, corn dealer. DIVIDENDS. Oct. 30. I Sally and I:SOlTy;jun.,St. Mary.axe, City, mer chants—Oct. 30, F. Macnaghten, Nicholas-lane, Lombard street, City, merchant—Nov. 3. S. Pilling and R. G. Watson. Gateshead, Durham, wine merchants. CERTIFICATES To be granted, unless cause be shown to the contrary on the day of meeting. Oct. 30, J. Gill, Liver - 04)J, wine merchant—Oct. 30, C. Wood' Liverpool, corn facto':—Oct. 30, J. Knight, Preston, Laucashille mercer—Oct. 30, A. Hall, Manchester. innkeeper. SCOTCH SEQUESTRATIONS. Alexander Kr:A, Edinburgh, grocer. John Lawse,a, Kilmarnock, plumber. Angus Su'aierland Helmsdale. Sutherlandshire, Ash-curer. Stepheii ivietcalf. Galashiels, manufacturer. Sbakach Robson, Glasgow, tea merchant, : -