The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1803-03-09 00:00:00

FROM Till 4011 DON C.IZETTE, 11. e r.

Which°ll, March P, Igo3.
The King has been pleased to appoint the r*..-
verend Peter .'!(aster to the ('hurch and P;11-.1-1
of New Luce, in the Presbytery of Straurawer, a •
county of Wigtown
The King has also been pleased to present the r.:--
verend Andrew Jameson to the Church and P.)r:'''
of St. Mungo, in the Presbyter? of Loclurtaban
county of DuMfries, vamutt by the death of the Re-
verend David Dieks,ai, late Minister there.
li'h,trbad, March 8, 1803.
The Lord Chancellor has appointed Thomas
terhuck, of Bradford, in the county of "Wilt.,
to be a Master Extrardinary in the Ugh C.44a. P:.
Chancery.

Berl a, February 26, 18(r.
Ihe Queen of Prussia wag safely del'+~•ered
Princess, on Wednesday last the 2d instant. I 1.,r
Majesty and the young' Princess continue as well
can be expected.

IImal•Ims

BANXRUPTCIES SUPERSEDED.
Edward Co.:kerton, of AM .rsgati:-Strecti
James NH:man:ll, of King's Bench Prim, merchant.
BANKRUPTS.
T-nch, the Younger, of Totenholise- yard,
to ‘1ar.ii"13,122, and April 19, at t:n, at G
Attorney, Mr Great Pres:xit etre.
riolpertAlement, of !.11.w E ielcenhani, shopkerw:i
to tturend r Nli.tch 11, 50, and April 19, at fain,ist the
of Charlotte Pink*, the Blue Bell, Norwich. Attotnie
Messrs. rioter, Son, Vottiank, and Fewer, Noew ch.
Joseph Baylis, of Upton-upon.Severo, b.uld r, to simenit• t
M irch 22, 23, and Aprir 19, at eleyeri, at the'hunie of. Tl.re!
Inas Page, the White J,..ion Inn, Uptun-upon.SeNerti, Atrew-
nies, Mr. Anthony Watts, No. lit, Si:mood's:lnn, Lood.sw•
and Mr. S Beale 14ton-upon-Severn.
11 ni7-rt Whitby, of Beale,
eotroa•spinner, to surt-ni-
del A, ril it, 9, 19, at three, at the house of Henry Wool
luaus', the Bull's Head Inn, in the Market Thee. Manche-1 .r.
Attoriii,e3 Mr. Sam. Edge, Brown-street, ManchiAter ; and
Mi. Edge, linter-Temple, Wandal.
Stephen Shatcross and Robert Barnes, of Manchester, co..
ton manufacturers, to surrender April 4,5, 19, at three, 'at
the house of Henry Woodhouse, the Pion Head Inn, in Ow:
Market Place. Attorney, Mr. Sam. Edge, Brown-street, Man-
chester
J.rlin. Drayton, of Carshallon, vietualler, to surrender Nlat h
15, at eleven, M ireh 26, at twelve. and April 19, at eleven, at
Giiiieha I. Attorney Mr. Greg:on, Angal-court, Throginni-
ton-strzet. .
DIVIDENDS. "
March 19. Christopher Srainbauk, of Old Bond street, p
seller, at ten, at Guildhall.

, Bloomw

March 19 Thomas Thomas, of
bury, jeweller, at one, at Guildhall.
April 11. Joseph Bruidon, of H4rtington, Derby, hawker, `a.
three, at 1111.idge's Tavern, in the Market-Place, in Mao--
chestier.
March 29. David Currie; of ?hrogmorton-street, merchant,
at ten, at Guildhall.
April 12. John Pierce, of Broad-street, warehouseman, at tet,
at Guildhall.. ,
April 2. John Maenarnara, of the city of London, merchai t.
at ten, at Goildhall.
Maw 3. James Huok aid William Turner, of Bridc.t-fix.it;
Witutniter, cnal-mitrchaito, at ten, at Guildhall. •
CERTIFICATES, MARCH 29.
John Hinford, of 11uloorn-bridge, •Imeii-oraeer.

ohn uf ksid.!, colour-matinfiet rcr.
Ralph Wucfd Carr and Robert Clff, of Leads ury->alter;

POLICE.

MAELDORPUIiki STREET.
Yesterday a wornan was cirargtd before e
ting Magistrate at this (Tice, by a girl ?F. )ut
eleven years of age, sendiifg• ber int .the
streets to commit depredations on the public. It
appeared that thii girl bad ran away from her an:::
about two months since, and meeting with anoth,r
girl in Peter-street, bad asked her if she knew where
she could be taken in, as she had ran away fr,,n:
her aunt, to which the answered in the affirma-
tive, saying, there was a .woman, (naming tin
prisoner) who fired in Marlborough-row, svh•
would take her in ; and while they were talk.
ins, the woman in question passed by, with a
pair of boots in her hand, being a shoe-blac::,
and was immediately pointed out to the witries,
as being the person ; that she went home with
her, when the prisoner. immediately pledged
her gown'. and apron, and employed her to go
round the different places to steal whatever slid,
could lay hands on ; and not content with her
ploynient in that way only, she used to send her son,
a lad about eight years of age, about the neigh-
bourhood, to steal also ; the son stole a hand of
pork from a housein Pulteney-street, on Saturda;
night last. The Magistrate ordered an officer to
go to die house as described by the witness, to se2
if such an article had been lost; when a person a;-
tended, and said she had lost one at the time nn -
timed by the girl. The boy, which the mother hi 1.
brought with her, was fully committed with his •
mother.
GUILDHALL.
'Yesterday William:on and Brown, twn men wlif•
have been sonic days in custody, on a charge _tt
stealing, on the river Thames, a boat, the proper! -
of Mr. Johnson of Thames-scree, were broaght
for examination •
The Patrole of Castle Baynard Ward gave. ev:•
dente of his being desired by Mr. Johnson to tal.o
the nrisonerS into custody, who were seen in 1.11.
boat, in which there was a great coat, some beef,
bread, and cheese, which property had been taken
out of the barge to which the boat Was affixed when
stolen. On the Patrole asking them to whom tai.•
property in the boat belonged, one of them said
WAS hiS: he lived in the Strand, and was pin .
Gravesend.
Mr. Johnson, the proprietor of the boa:,
originally gave charge of them, did nut app::ar
day to give evidence; but a Mi. Dalton, th:.• • -
prietor of the barge, came forward, and calkd :
bargenian and his wife, who proved that such.
perty as had been found in the boats as well us -04...
boat,. had been stolen on Thursday evening last.--
Tbe constable not having brought the prOperiy
forward, the prisoners were committed for
mination.
A yining man. was charged by Mr. Macey, a . -
cher in Newgate-market, with stealing the carcass
of a hog, his property.
Mr. Macey having been informed the prisoner bad
stolen the pig, :and had sold it to Mr. Payne, he
went to Mr. Payne's, and saw part of a hog whit;,he believed to be part of the one stolen from him.
Mr. Payne said, the prisoner brought the pig to
him for sale • saying he had three of them, and aid
s..ld two of them in the starker.
The Magistree did not think thb evidence, as it
stood, suadtudy strong to commit the prisoner tilt..
trial, unless they eauh/ bring forward the person
who *i* him steal it, which Mr. Macey engaged to
do. He was 4 xi:misted for fur** eke:inflation.

1

I

-
. .

LITEIMiureE.

Est oilers prelim. tr. ceporcert. Ho R.

DELPDINF, By MADAME DE STAEL-TIOLsTEIN.
We persuade oarselves that our readers will
thank us, for indulging them with another extraa
front this interesting novel. In I)elphine, we under-
stand that Madame de Stael has professed to give a
transcript of her own charaaer ; and she has cer-
tainly succeed: in arraying the heroine of her work
in all Idle am :talons which ever clustered round a
wlinan. As we have called the accomplished Del-
phine an amiable Deist, it is bat just that we
should stiffer her to speak for herself, and to com-
municate, in her own manner, her sentiments on
religion. The following let.er, however, though
evidently the prodaaion of a person who is careful
of not belirving too much, presents us with nothing
which can be deemed exceptionable by the Chris-
tian.

LETTER X IV.
DELPHINE TO LEONCE.

I was not satisfied -with you yesterday, my dear
Leonce. I never thought you were so indifferent
to religious sentiments, and I venture to find fault
with that indifferente. Your morality has no other
foundation than honor. You would have been
touch happier had you adopted those true and sim-
ple prieciples; which, by subjecting. our aftions to
the dictates of conscience, emancipates us from
every other yoke. You cannot bat know, that the
education which I have received, instead of subju-
gating my mind, has, perhaps, rendered it too in-
depelidant. It is even possible that superstition it-
self might he suited to the condition of females.
'nave tottering beings require a variety of supports;
and lore is a sort of credulity, which, perhaps, very
easily blends with every other species. But thege-
nerous protector of my infant years had sufficient
regard for my charatier to induce him to develope
my understanding, and never desired me to adopt
an opinion until I had investigated it with all the
information I possessed. I may, therefore, speak
to rou on the religion I love, which I have freely
and cand:dly examined with all the powers of my
mind aitd my soul ; and yekt cannot ascribe the
sentiments I am about to disclose, to habits which
authority has imposed, or to impressiens received
in the unrefleeftilo„; period tsf infancy. I assure you,
th :t ever since my mind was at all formed, the in-
difference and levity too often displayed by the
world on religious ideas, has always excited in me
strong feelings of disappmbation and repugnance.
Whatever may be the degree of conviEtion, of hope,
or of d.--:::.t, is of inferiar importance ; the soul
prostrates its..if before a chance as it would before a
certainty, v hen it is filled with that one grand idea
which Aid hovers over the destiny of mankind.
I was penetrated with these sentiments, Leonces
before I knew what it was to love i how powerfully
rust I no; feel them now, when that passion ex-
pands my heart with ideas that are boundless, and
wishes that never can. end! I shall not attempt to
retrace all the various kinds of proof which doubt-
less have engaged yOui etrentisin; but let me ask
you whather you have, since
,s au loved me, felt in
your heart something which revealed to yen the
hope of immortality ?
At the death of )4. d'Albemar. I was not quite
witty)* a religious belief; but I never befora telt
the **essay of recurrin to it. I was then so
yoom that no painful m tent had ever reached
itin
my heart; and throe who ave experienced no sor-
raw cannot have exercised much refledion. But on
the death of may benetaeor 1 was persuaded that I
had not done enough for his happiness, and this
idea was followed by the mint tormentin remorse.
The extremeiliffer-nce of our ages, when he be-
came my liasband, frequently raised in my mind
snelaucholy refs liens on my situation. I feared I
bad sometimes given vent to those feelings ; and now
Olathe had ceased to live, I could not avoid re-
proaching myself for entertaining them. Nothing
can be more horrible than the idea of repentance,
when there are no possible means of expiation—
when death has for ever deprived you of the hope of
repairing the wrongs you have committed. So
great was the influence of this melancholy reflec-
tion, that it would have affeted my reason, had
not the excellent si Aar of M. d'Albemar calmed my
mind, by representing to it, with new force, the
existence of God, and the immortality of the soul.
_ Convinced that my generous friend was the witness
of my sorrow, I at last believed that he had accepted
my contrition, and the idea of his pardon poured
consolation into my heart.
I executed his last orders with a reli;inus punc-
tuality : every time I fulfilled any of his wishes, I
experienced an eacquisite sensation which gives me
the assurance that our souls still hold communica-
tion. What would have become of me, had I
thought there was no longer any part of him in
existence ?a—What should I have done with my re-
pentance?--How could its pain irave been miti-
gated ; or where was I to seek for consolatiOn for
the slightest of my errors, if I had believed that he
had received the seal of eternity ?--Shall it be said,
that those emotions of gratitude, thosa sentiments
of regret which attach us to the dead, form the on-
ly farshood of steam., the only grief without an ob-
jell, the only desire without hope? RecolleEtion,
the most noble faculty of the soul, would then
prove our torment, by making us bestow our sor-
rows on nothing but the dispersed dust of those who
were his friends.
It is tru-o my dear Leonee, I am not afraid of
surviving you. I never shalt weep over your tomb ;
fur my lite is inseparable from yours: but if that
shocking system which har annihilation for its term,
were to take possession of my soul, horror would
be mingled with my love. How could I cherish
the tender aftartion I feel for you, if I thought that
all your excellent qualities were only the result of
one of those hippy combinations of chance which
time produces and destroys?—Could we, in the in-
timacy of our soils, search our most secret thoughts
to entrust them to each other, when, at last, all our
refleaions must terminate in despair? An extraor-
dinary sensation obscures my mind, when any pro-
cess of seasoning snatches from it, for a moment,
• the hope of futurity, and encloses it within the nar-
,, r,.• boundary of this life. I tl.-.1 feel that every
4 thing is lost to me. I have no longer any confi-
dence in myself; I- tremble at the thought of being
for ever separated from him I love. It seems to
one that his countenance becomes pale ; that his
voice is lost in the gloom that surrounds me. I see
him plated on the brink of an abyss. Every /no.
arm in vdich I aligiiik to hint, appears to me the

.

last, since One Imo an4ve to Anish nut ieserconrse '
ler ever, nhd my soul experiences the agitation of
fear, instead of the enjoyment or love.
But, oh! how the sentiment of love is strengthen.
ed !—hnw it elevates us when two souls mutually
animate euThi other to place their trust in the Su-
preme Be eg! Do not, Leonce, do not resist the
consoled •ns which meurel religion can afford. It
is not posSible for our minds to be cnnvineed On
this subjed by positive argument, but our sensibi-
lity can teach us all that is necessary to be known.
Take hut a slight view of human destiny; you *ill
there perceive only a few delightful moments of
youth and love, followed by a length of declining
years, which eoniluCt from sorrow to sorsow, and
from terror to terror, until the whole is closed by
the awful hand of death. Hope is of all things
most necessat y to man, and yet his existence, after
his twenty-fifth year, consists only of a series 01.
days, of which the present is always better than the
next. He wishes to cause when he finds himself
on the declivity of life ; he clings to each twig, in
order that his steps may carry him less rapidly to-
wards old age and the grave. lie incessantly
dreads the period for which the imagination is
formed—the only one from which it can never be de-
tashed—fitterity. Oh, Leonce, is this all the use
of life ? Is this soul of fire given to us for no pur-
pose, but to be slowly extinguished in the agony
.of
age?
By the faculty el loving I am enabled to feel
within me the immortal oiliest of life. Vhat I
shall my ashes be laid near thine, without the hope
of reviving I Shall we, for ever, be strangers to
that nature which speaks so powerfully to the soul !
Shall that magnificent sky whose aspect excites so
limy noble sentiments, and sublime ideas !—Shall
those brilliant stars of night and of day arise on
our tomb, as they rose on our happiest hours, and
nothing of us remain to admire them ? No, Leonce,
the idea of annihilation is as dreadful to me as
that of guilt, and the same conscience teaches me
to abhor both.
But how melancholy must he my hope if you do
not partake of it ! Shall I deliver up my soul to a
future state which is not recognized as yours ?
What idea can my imagination afford me of happi-
ness, if it is not to be enjoyed with you ? How shall
I continue those solitary meditations which are not
encouraged by your voice lam capable of nothing
by myself ; 1 require to examine with you all my
thoughts, in order to judge of them, admit them,
and attach them to to my love. Oh ! Leonce, le-
once, believe with me, that I may hope in peace,
that I may follow thy brilliant course in that heaven,
where my eyes seek thy place before they aspire to
mine.
Indeed, Leonce, there exist another world, in
which the fad tious bonds of this are broken ; where
no enjoyment is promised, but the love of those we
love : Oh ! be not impious to this hope ! The hap-
piness which sensibility gives, instead of diverting
us like other pleasures, from paying that homage of
gratitude which is due to the Crmtor, turns our
minds incessantly towards him ; the nearer we ap-
proach pertedion, the more necessary becomes the
idea of a Deity : and the more ardent and pure the
affeCtiou of the heat, the less possible is it for us to
resign them to the bounds of this life. I conjure
yeu, Leonce, never allow yourself to speak with
pleasantry of my desire to inspire your soul with
religious ideas. I should even doubt your love for
me, is I could not succeed at least in making you
respect those great questions, which have interested
so many enlighteaed minds, and calmed so many
suffering souls.
Levity in the principles of condud, soon leads to
levity in sentiment. The art of speech may easily
turn in des isioa every thing most sacred eerth ;
but the impassioned character repulses that superfi-
cial pride, which attacks all the powerful and deep-
rooted affections. The enthusiasm which love in-
spires, is a new principle of life. Some enjoy it,
but it is as utiknewn to others, as that future exist-
ence to which you will not turn your thoughts. We
feel in ourselves, sentiments which vulgar souls can-
not comprehend, let us then also hope for those
blessings, of which we have at present but a con-
fined prosped. Sublime ideas are as necessary to
love as to virtue.
But, alas ! is it fit that I should speak of virtue !
I well know that pure morality would already re..
prove my condua ; and I am more severely judged
by my own conscience, than I should be by the opi-
nions received in the world ; but 1 love the justice
of Heaven better than the indulgence of man t
Though I have not the. resolution to renounce see-
ing you, I air convinced that 1 shall better preserve
the natural quelities of my heart, by offering, each
day, my repentance to the Supreme Being, than
by seeking to doubt the power which condemns
rite-
The education whizh you hare received, Leonce,
the crimple and the recolledion of the ancient
Spanish menaces, the military and romantic ideas
which charmed your infancy, seen 'to you capable
of sueelying the place of the most delicate principles
of religion and nnn.ality. All eerierous characters
experience a pleasure in makieg sacrifices, and you
hive formed of t':: seatiment of honour, an almost
superstitious respect for public opinion, an idol to
which you would immolate yourself with joy. But
if religious ideas occupied your mind, you would
be less sensible to the praise or the blame of the
world ; and, ales! perhaps calumny would not be
so' easily able either to irritate or convince you. Oh !
my frieed ! devote es Heaven some of those quali-
ties which distinguish you from other men. You
will then find in your own approbation, a censola-
don which no one can disturb ; and I shall also be
more tranquil respecting my fate. Religions ideas,
even when they condemn love, never dry up the
source of that generous passion ; bnt the perfidious
filshoods of the world wither fer.ever the affections
of him who dreads, and yet obeys their influence.
You see, Leonce, that when speculating with you
on the gravest subjects, I constantly revert to that
interest by which lam governed—to your sentiment
of attachment for me. Neither this letter, nor any'
ocher action of my life, can henceforth be attributed
to virtue ; for love alone is the origin of ell the gOod
as well as all the evil k perform. •
s
On Monday morning, about one o'clock, a man
genteelly dressed hired a hackney-coach at Charing
icross, who ordered the coaclutten to drive to the
King's-road, Chelsea, and, on the coachman stop,.
ping at the place as dircded, the man got out of talc
coach, and immediateie demanded the. coachman':
money, which only. amounted so eighteen shillings,
with whiclethe robber-made his, escape: •

~~ <.

.• • •

NA PAL INITLLICENCE.

tORT.MMTI-1, 'MARCH 7.
Last night saited his Majesty's ship ileaeta, of 36
guns, Capt. Wood, supposed for Guernsey.
This day arrived his Majesty's ship' Castor, of
32 guns, from the West Indies, bearing the broad
pendant of Commodcire the Hon. Robert Stopford ;
anti his Majesty's ship Juno, of 32 guns, Capt.
Richardson, from the Downs ; they remain at Spit-
lieu!, with his Maj'sty's ships Neptune, Isis, Calcut-
ta, La Loire, Apollo, Dryad, ilmat.on, Amphi,m, La
De!ermi4e, Kite, Port Mallon, Alorgiana,
azd .tionley.
His Majesty's ship Amazon, of 38 guns, Capt.
Parker' is under orders to proceed to sea.
His Majesty's ships Venerable, of 74 guns, Capt.
Seatle, and Diamond, of :;8 guns, Capt. Elphin-
ston, have received orders to proceed to Spithead,
without loss of time. Wind E. and blows stro,g.

DOVER, MARCH 7.
We have had a most violent storm of wind and
snow all day from the eastward. This morning, at
eleven o'clock, a large collier brig, the Claude, of
Blyth, in attempting to come into the harbour,
struck against the south pier head, and was after-
wards dashed on shore, where she now lays a perfect
wreck. A small fishing-boat, with five men, was
upset about the same time at the entrance of the
harbour; the boatmen immediately put off their
boats to the relief of the poor sutforers, and provi-
dentially arrived to their ass stance at the moment
they were sinking ; and it is with much pleasure
we state, that all of them were brought on shore
without receiving any very material injury.

lIRIDQZTOWN, BAR BADOLS, JAN. 4.

Tnis morning arrived from London and Madeira
the ship Simon Taylor, biiund to Jamaica, with
troops. By this vessel accounts are received of
the loss of the ship Simon and Bella (a new vcccel,
intended for_the trade of thiq island), Anthony Moll,
commander, which happened in the night between
the 4th and sth December last, of Madeira. Soon
die; the ship struck, the Captain,with eleven seamen
and six passengers, took to the long boat, while the
second mate and seven other seamen had the pin-
nace and yawl, which took the long-boat in tow, and
endeavoured to reach the shore; but unable toweather
point tie St. Lorenzo, the long-boat was cast off at
ten o'clock on Monday morning, when, being im-
merged in a tremendous surf, she was soon dashed
to pieces, and every soul in her perished. It is but
adding to the affitaing tale to state, that the unhap-
py sufferers were, besides all the seamen, Capt. Moll
who has left an amiable widow and five infant chil-
dren in this island), the two Mr. Goodridges (sons
of Jacob Goodridge, Esq. of Christ Church); Dr.
Denny, a Mr. Bennett, and Mr. Jacob Belgrave.
The yawl and pinnace reached the shore with the
people in. them, who soon after had to perform the
melancholy office of burying twelve of their unfor-
tunate companions, whose bodies had been washed
to:the shore. The ship is entirely lost. The ship
Siam, from Bristol, has just arrived; and the Le-
viathan, from London, put into the Bay.

LLOIT's LIST.

•11111 T ED.

At Lieerpnn'.—tlip Stirprize, Peartim, from Triera.
At Du Fame, t; VVIII3II, frmn flondura4 ; Coun-
tess of linty, —, from Alicant ; Brilliant, Gordon, front
Cadiz; ti,stert, Nfackii., from New York; and Jamaica,
Luldk, from laAtion.
At Loriduuderry—r•the Jo,:i.th Collins, —, from
Wil-
rnin!

At B-Ifast—William Sibbald, Christie, from Alicant.
At Gieirikey—the Thomas .urt —, fro'', Culir.
At Gibraltar--the Elizabeth and Ann, Lewi', from Lon-
don.
At New York—the Kwg•tou, Stevens; and Friendi, Powell,
frous London.
At Barbailoes—the Leviathan, Bryce, friin London; and
Diaries, Liddy, from Africa.
At Nevis—the Stanley, Chivers, from London.
At Deinarara:he Demarara, lugluh, from Liverpool.

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