The Sun.
London, England, 1824-07-13 00:00:00

FASHIONABLE CHANGES.

Lord and 14;dYi..1:flo;;;;Tit :their house in Albemarle-
street,. from the Isle of Wight ; bir George Sitwell, Bart. at
the Pultaney Hotel, Albemarle-street, from Paris; Lord Dy-
nevor, for lus seat in South Wales ; Lord and Lady Chet-
wynd, for Woodstock, Oxfordshire ; Sir George Wombwell,
Bart. for his seat in Suffolk; the Hon. Mr. and Mrs. Coven-
try, for their seat, Foot's Cray, Kent ; the Ladies Beauclerk,
for the seat of Sir Gilbert East, Bart., Hall Place, Berks ;
the Hon. P. Stourton, at Fenton's lintel, St. James-street,
for his seat in Yorkshire ; Robert Cripps, Esq. from ditto,
for his seat, near Southampton ; Count and Countess Lieven,
the seat of Thomas Hope, bsq., Deepdene, Surrey; Lord and
Lady Anson, from the Clarendon Hotel, Bond-street, for their
seat in Staffordshire ; Lady Fielding, from ditto, on a tour
Lord Cranley, from ditto, for his seat in Surrey; Lord and
Lady Cremorne and family, from the Hyde-park Hotel, Hyde
park-place, for Oxford ; Sir E. Harvey, M.P., la►dy Louisa,
and the Alisses Harvey, from ditto, for their seat, Rolls Park ;
Mr. and. Mrs. Johnson, from ditto, for Tunbridge-wells ; J.
Hyde, Esq., from ditto, for Oxford.

MR. GREENWOOD'S ENTERTAINMENTS,
At. Brompton.park, on Sunday evening, commenced with a
dinner to a party of 20 personages in high life, among whom were
—Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester,
the Princess Sophia Matilda, Earl of Chesterfield, Marquis and
Marchioness of Salisbury, Lady Isabella Thynne, Mr. and
Mrs. Arthur Stanhope, Gen. Upton, Lady. Georgina Bathurst,
General Dalton.—The banquet was given in the very fine room
next the Lawn. In the evening, the Circle was joined by. his
Royal Highness the Prince Leopold and Sir Robert Gardiner,
Duchess of Richmond and the Ladies Lennox, Duchess of Leeds
and lody Osborne, General and Ludy Matilda Wynyard, Mar-
chioness of Winchester and the Ladies Paulet. At ten o'clock
a Concert commenced, of vocal and instrumental music,
led by Sir George Smart. The usual professional per-
sons assisted. Miss Goodall sung several English airs
with great sweetness, and Master Listz played on the
piano-forte with wonderful taste and execution. The Saloon,
and the principal Drawing-room were occupied by the corn-
pany.—The Melange ceased at midnight—Glees were also sung.

GRAND DINNERS.
YESTERDAY—The Earl of 'Westmoreland, Sir John Cop-
ley, Earl of Manvers, Mr. Angerstein, Countess of Cork and
Orrery, Lord \Valsinghani, Lord Alvanley, A. Stanhope, Esq.
Lord Carrington.
SUNDAY—The Earl of Limerick, Earl of Westmorland,
and lady Trollope.
Si it W. CU RTIS.—No sooner was the arrival of
Sir W. CURTIS, in his schooner, known to the people of
Ramsgate, than every preparation was made to receive him
with the highest marks of public respect; and the moment he
received permission to land from quarantine, every thing put
on an air of gaiety and hilarity. Boughs of trees and flags
were festooned across the streets, and the inhabitants dresse4
their best array, linked three and three, formed a procession to
meet the worthy Baronet, who landed amidst the firing of can.
non and the cheerings of the populace. This was the sponta-
neous effusion of public feeling—this was the reward of that
undeviating course of constitutional conduct which Sir W.Curtis
at all times, and under all circumstances, has manifested; and
it is now that the people are practically satisfied of the excel.
lence of that system of which Sir William has been the unvary-
ing supporter, that they are free and ready to afford those gra-
tifying
.testimonials of approbation of the public conduct of
public individuals ; but to this must be added, as a claim on
the part of Sir W. Curtis, his private worth, his kindness and
liberality, and all those other good qualities which have secured
him a host of friends.

FUNERAI4
OF THE QUEEN OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDS

Yesterday morning nt a very early boor, in
pursuance of previous arrangements, and with the concurrence
of his MAJESTY, the remains of the late Queen of the SA ND.
WICII IsLANDs were deposited in a vault under the Church of
St. Martin-in-the-Fields. In the course of Sunday the leaden
coffin, in which the body had been placed, was put into the
outer case, which was of uncommon magnificence. It was
elevated about four feet from the ground by trends. On each
side were wax candles placed at equal distances, and around
were suspended the hem mane, or war cloaks, which were very
beautiful and composed of red and yellow feathers, curiously
wrought. At the head of the coffin were placed her -hiAJEST Y'S
cloak the kaili, or fan plume, and on the lid, the rei ale mew,
or head and neck ornaments of the deceased. Bouquets of
flowers were arranged on each side, and the floor strewed with
rose leaves. The body is not embalmed by the usual process,
but merely wrapped tightly in waxed linen, which is sufficient
for its preservation. It is soldered in a leaden coffin, which is
deposited in one of oak, covered with rich crimson Genoa vel-
vet ; the handles and mountings are of plated Britannia metal.
In the centre of the lid is a large brass plate, on. which it en-
graven the following inscription :
TAMEH A3IALU

No Na :tine o awahi
22 Makaiki Taitu
London 8 Kemahoe o ke Maikaiki
Underneath was the following English translation :
TAMEHAMALU,
Queen of the Sandwich islands,
Departed this life in London, on the Bth July, 1824,
Aged 22 years.
On each side of the cofhn stood the Lady companion of the
deceased Queen, the Governor, Treasurer, and two others of
the suite, and the Interpreter at the foot. They all looked
wistfully at the depository of the mortal remains of their late
Royal Mistress, with countenances which bespoke their inward
grief. When the Governor asked the King s pleasure as to
the ceremonial in honour of the deceased, the only special di-
rection given by his Majesty was, to hang the war cloaks round
the coffin. Every assistance and convenience would have been
afforded in the celebration of any peculiar rite; but, on the
contrary, though the persons of the suite were uninfluenced in
their arrangements by the advice or assistance of any one, no
ceremonial unusual to this country, with the exception of the
display of the war insignia, was observed.
It was the wish of the King that she should be deposited in
the vaults of one of our churches until he was abli to return to
his dominions, which lie declares shall be the case as soon as
ever his health is restored. The form adopted in depositing
the body was as simple as possible. The hearse was drawn by
six horses, decorated with the usual mournful plumes, and was
followed by three mourning-coaches, drawn by four horses, in
the first of which were the gait of his Majesty, including 11ogi,
the Governor; Tournerbara, the Treasurer; .lassin lie Reme,
the Interpreter; and Captain Starbach, who brought the King
to this country. The remaining two carriages were empty, the
Hon. Mr. Ilyng having gone forward to the church to make
the necessary arrangements for the reception of the body.
On reaching the church the coffin was carried into the vault
prepared for its reception, and there left without any ceremony ;
the customary forms pursued on such occasions by the Royal
Family of the Sandwich Islands being reserved until the arrival
of the body on its native soil.
We regret to state the King still remains in a precarious state,
and that his medical attendants have but faint hopes of his
recovery.
It is known that their Majesties have been converted to
Christianity, and when the melancholy intelligence of his
consort's death was communicated, his Majesty was for a few
moments deeply affected ; he thee looked upwards, and said,
" she is gone to Heaven." After a pause he added, " I know
that every thing that skill and care could do has been done. I
ant grateful for it." His demeanour on that afflicting occasion,
and his resignation since, are forcible and interesting proofs of
religious faith. Though very ill, he daily made an effort to pen
disp-Jelies to Crime Cao, his favourite Minister, whom lie fami-
liarly calls IVilliam Pitt, and who is invested with the exe-
cutive authority. These dispatches were on Sunday sent to
Gravesend, for conveyance by the 0811, Capt. Staners, which
sailed yesterday. Oar own King is much concerned at the
calamitous visitations which his Sandwich Majesty has expe-
rienced since his arrival in England, and sir Henry Halford
daily reports to him his state. An official report is also daily
sent to Mr. Canning. The Right lion. Gentleman called on
Sunday. The King knew of his intention to visit him, anti
gave orders (though he is recommended by his medical ad-
visers to forbear receiving any one until a favourable change
may take place) for him to be conducted to his bed-side. Mr.
Canning expressed his concern, and hoped his Majesty would
not suffer his feelings to aggravate his illness. The King said
he was most gratefully sensible of the kindness and attention
which he had received, and that he would.. strive to endure the
trial with fortitude. His Majesty is remarkable for the mild-
ness and affability of his demeanour. lie was particularly at-
tentive to the Ladies who have visited him, and never re-
sumed his seat, until they departed. Fears were entertained
that the Admiral's illness would alive have proved fatal, but he
is better.

POET It T.

ATHENS.
A POEM, which obtained the CLIANCELLOR'S MEDAL, at
the CAMBRIDGE COMMENCEMENT, July MN.

By WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAEDi of Trinity College.

" High towers, fair temples, goodly theatres,
Strong walls, rich porches, princely palaces,
Large streets, brave houses, sacred sepulchres,
Sure gates, sweet gardens, stately galleries,
Wrought with fair pillars and fine imageries,—
All these, (0 pity !) now are turned to dust,
And overgrown with black oblivion's rug."
SrassEa.
Muse of old ATHENS ! strike thine ancient lute !
Are the strings broken ? is the music mute?
Hest thou no tears to gush, no pray'rs to flow,
'Wails for her fate, or curses for her foe ?
If still, within some dark and drear recess,
Clothed with sad pomp and spectral loveliness,
Though pale thy cheek, and torn thy flowing hair,
And reft the loses passion worshipped there,
Thou lingerest, lone, beneath thy laurel bough,
Glad in the incense of a poet's vow,
Bear me, oh ! bear me, to the vine-clad hill,
Where Nature smiles, and Beauty blushes still,
And Memory blends her tale of other years,
With earnest hopes, deep sighs, and bitter tears !
Desolate Atheas ! though thy Gods are fled,
Thy temples silent, and thy glory dead,
Though all thou had'st of beautiful and brave
Sleep in the tomb, or moulder in the wave,
Though power and praise forsake thee and forget,
Desolate Athena, thou art lovely yet!
Around thy walls, in every wood and vale,
Thine own sweet bird, the lonely Nightingale,
Still makes her home; and, when the moonlight hour
Flings its soft magic o'er the brake and bower,
Murmurs her sorrows from her ivy shrine,
Or the thick foliage of the deathless vine.
Where erst Megiera chose her fearful crown,
The bright Narcissus hangs his clusters down ;
And the gay Crocus decks with glittering dew
The yellow radiance of his golden hue.
Still thine own olive haunts its native earth,
Green, as when Pallas smil'd upon its birth ;
And still Cephisus pours his sleepless tide.
So clear and calm, along the meadow side,
That you may gaze long hours upon the stream,
And dream at last the poet's witching dream,
That the sweet Muses, in the neighbouring bowers,
Sweep their wild harps, and wreath their odorours flowers.
And laughing Venus o'er the level plains -
Waves her light lash, and shakes her gilded reins.
How terrible is Time ! his solemn years,
The tombs of all our hopes and all our fears,
In silent horror roll !—the gorgeous throne,
The pillar'd arch, the monumental stone
Melt in sure ruin; and of mighty climes,
Where Fame told tales of virtues and of crimes,
Where Wisdom taught, and Valour woke to strife,
And Art's creations breathed their mimic life,
And the young Poet, when the stars shone high,
Drank the deep rapture of the quiet sky,
Nought now remains, but Nature's placid scene,
Ileavon's deathless blue, and Earth's eternal green,
The showers that fall on palaces and graves,
The suns that shine for freemen and for slaves :
•
Science may sleep in ruin, man in shame,
But Nature lives still lovely, still the same I
The rock, the river,—these have no decay'.
The city and its masters,-7where are they ?,
Go forth, and wander through the cold remains
Of fallen statues and of tottering farms,
Seek 'the loved haunts of poet and of sage,'
The gay paleestra, and the gaudy stage !
What signs are there ? a solitary stone,
A shattered capital with grass o'ergrown,
A mouldering frieze half-hid in ancient dust,
A thistle springing o'er a nameless bust,
Yet this was Athens ! still a holy spell
Breathes in the dome, and wanders in the dell,
And vanished times and wondrous forms appear,
And sudden echoes charm the waking ear :
Decay itself is Brest in glory's gloom,
For-every hillock is a hero's tomb,
And every breeze to fancy's slumber brings
The mighty rushing of a spirit's wings.
Oh yes ! where glory such as thine high been,
Wisdom and Sorrow linger round the scene ;
And where the hues of faded splendour sleep,
Age kneels to moralize, and youth to weep !
E'en now, methinks, before the eve of day,
The night of ages rolls its mist away,
And the cold dead, the wise, and fair, and proud,
Start from the urn, and rend the tranquil shroud.
Here the wild Muse bath seized her maddening lyre,
With grasp of passion, and with glance of fire,
And called the visions of her awful reign
From death anti gloom, to light and life again.
Bark ! the huge Titan on his frozen rock
Scoffs at Heaven's King, and braves the lightning-shock,
The Colchian sorceress drains her last brief bliss,
The thrilling rapture of a mother's kiss,
And the grey Theban raises to the skies
His hueless features, and his rayless eyes.
There blue-eyed Pallas guides the willing feet
Of her loved sages to her calm retreat,
Anti lights the radiance of her glittering torch
In the rich garden, and the quiet porch :
Lo ! the thronged arches, and the nodding trees,
Where Truth and Wisdom strayed with Socrates.
Where round sweet Xenophon wrapt myriads hung,
And liquid honey dropped from Plato's tongue
Oh ! thou Wert glorious then ! thy sway and sword
On earth and sea were dreaded and adored,
And Satraps knelt, anti Sovereigns tribute paid,
,And prostrate cities trembled and obeyed :
'Tile grins Laconian when he saw thee sighed,
And frowned the venom of his hate and pride ;
And the pale Persian dismal vigils kept, .
if Rumour whispered Athens 1' where lie slept.
And Mighty ocean, fur thy royal ma,
Hushed the loud wave, and stilled the stormy gale;
Anil to thy sons Olympian Jove had given
A briglither ether, and a purer heaven.
Those sons of thine were not a mingled host,
From various fathers born, from every coast,
And driven from shore to shore, from toil to sou,
• To shun a despot, or to seek a spoil ;
Oh no I they drew their unpolluted race
Up from the earth which was their dwelling-place:
And the warm blood, whose blitshieg streams hati
run,
Ceaseless and stainless, down from sire to son, -
Went clear and brilliant through its hundred rills,
Pure as thy breeze, eternal as thy hills !
Alas ! how soon that day of splendor past,
That bright, brief day, too beautiful to last
Let other lips tell o'er the oft-told tale ;
How art succeeds, when spear and falchion fail,
How tierce d6sensinn, impotent distrust,
Caprice, that made it treason to be just,
• ' And crime in Some, and listlessness in all,
Shook the great city to her fate and,fall,
Till gold at last mule plaits the tyrant's way,
And bent all hearts in bondage and decay !
I loathe the teak ; let other lyres record
The might and metes, of the Roman sword,
The aimless struggle, and the fruitless wile,
The victor's vengeance, and the patron's smile.
• 'Yet, in the gloom of that long, cheerless
There gleams one ray to %mien and delight;
One spot of rapture courts the Muse's eye,
In the dull waste of shame and apathy,

Here, where wild Fancy wondrous fictions draw,
And knelt to worship, till she thought them true,—
Hero, in the paths which beauteous Error trod,
The great Apostle preached the UIinCSOWN GOD !
Silent the crowd were hushed ; for his the eye
Which power controls not, sin cannot defy ;
His the tall stature, and the lifted hand,
And the fixed countenance of grave command ;
And his the ♦oice, which, heard but once, will sink
So deep into the hearts of those that think,
That they may live till years and years are gone,
And never lose one echo of its tone.
Yet when the voice had ceased, a clamour rose,
And mingled tumult rang from friends and foes ;
The threat was muttered, and the galling gibe,
By each pale Sophist and his paltry tribe ;
The haughty Stoic passed in gloomy state,
The heartless Cynic scowled his grovelling hate,
And the soft Garden's rose encircled child
Smiled unbelief, and shuddered as he smiled.—
Tranquil
he stood ; for he had heard,—could hear,
Blame and reproach with an untroubled ear ;
O'er his broad forehead visibly were wrought
The dark deep lines of courage and of thought ;
And if the colour front his cheek was fled,
Its paleness spoke no passion,—and no dread.
The meek endurance, and the stedfast will,
The patient nerve, that suffers, and is still,
The humble faith, that bends to meet the rod,
And the strong hope, that turns from man to God,—
All these were his; and his firm heart was set
And knew the hour must come,—but was not yet.

Again long years of darkness and of pain,
The Moslem scymetar, the Moslem chitin ;
Where Phidias toiled, the turbaned spoilers brood,
And the Mosque glitters, where the Temple stood.
Alas! how well the slaves their fetters wear,
Proud in disgrace, and cheerful in despair !
While the glad music of the boatman 'it song
On the still air floats happily along,
The light Calque goes bouniling on its way
Through the bright ripples of Pirsus' bay ;
And when the stars slime down and twinkling feet
In the gay measure blithely part and meet,
The dark-eyed Maiden scatters through the grove
Her tones of fondness, and her looks of love
Oh ! sweet the lute, the dance ! but bondage flings
Grief on the steps, and discord on the strings.
Yet thus, degraded, sunken as thou art,
Still thou art dear to many a boyish heart;
And many a poet, full of fervour, goes,
To read deep lessons, Athens, in thy woes.
And such was he, the long-lamented one,
England's fair hope, sad Granta's cherished son,
111-fated TWEDDELL !—if the flush of youth,
The light of genius, and the glow of truth,
If all that fondness honours and adores,
Hall that grief remembers and deplores,
Could bid the spoiler turn his scythe away,
Or snatch one flower from darkness and decay,
Thou burst not marked, fair city, his decline,
Nor, reared the marble in thy silent shrine—
The cold, ungrieving marble,—to declare
How many hopes lie desolated there.
We will not mourn fur him ere human ill
Could blight one bliss, or make one feeling chill,
In Learning's pure embrace he sunk to rest,
Like a tired child upon his mother's breast :
Peace to his hallowed shade ! his ashes dwell
In that sweet spot he loved in life so well,
And the sad Nurse who watched his early bloom,
From this his home, points proudly to his tomb.
But oft, when twilight sleeps on earth and sea,
Bviutiful Athens, we will weep for thee :
For thee, and for thine offspring they bear
The dreary burthen of their own despair,
Till nature yields, and sense and life depart
From the torn sinews and the trampled heart ?
Oh ! by the mighty shades that dimly glide
Where Victory beams upon the turf or tide,
By those who sleep at Marathon in bliss,
By those who fell at glorious Salamis,
By every laurelled brow and holy name,
By every thought of freedom and of fame,
By all ye bear, by all that ye have borne,
The blow of anger, and the glance of scorn,
The fruitless labour, and the broken rest,
The bitter torture, and the bitterer jest,
By your sweet infants' unavailing cry,
Your sister's blush, your mother's stifled sigh,
By all the tears that ye have wept and weep,—
Break, Sons of Athens, break your weary sleep !
Yea! it is broken !—llark, the sudden shock
Rolls on from wave to wave, from rod, to rock ;
Up, for the Cross and Freedom ! far and near
Forth starts the sword, and gleams the patriot spear,
And bursts the echo of the battle song,
Cheering and swift, the banded hosts along.
On, Sons of Athens! let your wrongs and woes
Burnish the blades, and nerve the whistling bows;
Green be the laurel, ever blest the meed
Of him that shines to-day in martial deed,
And sweet his sleep beneath the dewy sod,
Who falls for fame, his country, and his God !
The hoary sire has lielmed his locks of gray,
Scorned the safe hearth, and tottered to the fray
The beardless boy has left his gilt guitar,
And bared his arm for manhood's holiest war.
the weak girl has mailed her bosom there,
Clasped the rude helmet on her auburn hair,
Changed love's own smile for valour's fiery glance,
Mirth for the field, the distaff for the lance.
Yes, she was beauteous, that Athenian maid,
'When erst she sate within her myrtle shade,
Without a passion, and without a thought,
Save those which innocence and childhood wrought,
Delicious hopes, and dreams of life and love,
Young}, flowers below, and cloudless skies above.i
But oh, how fair, how more titan doubly fair,
Thus, with the laurel twined around her hair,—
While at her feet her country's chiefs assemble,
And those soft tones amid the war.cry tremble,
As sonic sweet lute creeps eloquently in,
Breaking the tempest of the trumpet's din,—
Iler corselet fastened with a golden clasp,_.
Her falchion buckled to her tender grasp,—
And quivering lip, flushed cheek, and flaghing eye
All breathing fire, all speaking LIBERTY
Firm has that struggle been ! but is there none
To hymn the triumph, when the fight is won ?
Oh for the harp which once—but through the strings,
Far o'er the sea, the dismal night-wind sings ;
Where is the hand that swept it ?—cold and mute,
The lifeless master, and the voiceless lute !
The crowded hall, the murmur anti the gaze,
The look of envy, and the voice of praise,
And friendship's smile, and passion's treasured vow,—
All these are nothing,—life is nothing now !
But the hushed triumph, and the garb of gloom,
The sorrow, deep, but mute, around the tomb,
The soldier's silence, and the matron's tear,—
Theme arc the trappings of the sable bier,
Which time corrupts not, falsehood cannot hide,
Nor folly scorn, nor calumny deride.
And what is writ, is writ l'—the guilt and shame,
All eyes have seen them, and all lips may blame;
Where is the record of the wrong that stung,
The charm that tempted, and the grief that wrung?
Let feeble hands, iniquitously just,
/take up the reliques of the sinful dust,
Let Ignorance mock the pang it cannot fee),
And Malice brand, what Mercy would conceal;
It matters not ! he died as all would die ;
Greece had his earliest song, his latest sigh ;
And o'er the shrine, in which that cold heart sleeps,
Glory looks dim, anti joyous conquest weeps.
The maids of Athens to the spot shall bring
The freshest roses of the new-born spring,
And Spartan boys their first-won wreath shall bear,
To bloom round BYtION'a urn, or droop in sadness there !
Farewell sweet ATittcws ! thou "halt be again
The seeptred Queen of all thine own domain,
Again be blest in all thy varied charms
Of loveliness anti valour, arts and arms.
Forget not then, that, in thine hour of dread,
While the weak battled, and the guiltless bled,
Though Kings and Courts stood gazing on thy fate,
The bad, to scoffs—the better, to debate,
peee, where the soul of youth remembers yet
i The smiles and tears which manhood must forget,
I In a far land, the honest and the free
F Had lips to pray, and hearts to feel, for thee

NOTE.—Several images in the early part of thepoem are se-
lected from passages in the Greek Tragedian*; particularly
from the two well-known Chorusses •in the Cgdipus'Coloneus
for the sending in of the exercise*;
and the Alludes. , .. .
The death of Lord Byron took place after the day appointed
and the :dilution to it has of
course been introduced subsequent to the adjudication of the
Prize' - •,. • '
01 We regret that we had not an opportunity of giving an
earlier insertion to dais beautiful Poem. The tribute to the
Memorya of Lord BrYltON is 'onet.of the best monuments that
rciesy can rsise::-

MIDDLESEX SESSIONS-(Tim DAY.)

ASSAULT AND FALSE IMPRISONMENT.

J. Bartlett and J. Green, two of the parochial
officers of the Parish of St. Giles, were pot to
the bar, charged by a person who gave his name
W. Leviss; 'with a most violent outrage ott.the
25th of October last, in Lacelles-court, Broad-
street, on his person, and also with falsely im-
prisoning him for three days.
The circumstances of this case were, that on
~
the day in question the gentlemen of the Poro-
chial Board were sitting at the poor house. Two
women, who had been farmed out, came to the
Committee-room in a state of intoxication, and
behaved in the most violent manner. The
defendants were ordered to remove them, and
while in the act of so doing, the prosecutor
interfered, and the consequence was that Mr.
,Leviss was taken into custody, and con-
veyed before Mr. Dyer, at Marlborough-street,
where he was ordered to find bail, and to give
'.2-1 hours notice of the same. The wife of the
prosecutor in this case, however, applied, to the
defendants, and having implored them to forgive
him, they consented to any bail being taken.
On the part of the prosecution, it was at•
tempted to prove that the most gross outrage
had been committed ; but this was met by the
testimony of a number of respectable witnesses,
who swore diametrically opposite to those called
in support of the prosecution.
The worthy CIiAIRMAN summed up the evi-
dence on both sides, and the Jury found a yer.
dict for the plaintiff. The verdict was received
with marked surprise. The Court sentenced
them to pay a fine of 51. each.

MIDDLESEX SESSIONS, CLrnicENwELL, JULY it

Tut KING V. JOSEPH BRAND.
Mr. ALLEY. stated this to he a prosecution at the instance
of the Paving Committee of St. Martin's Parish against the
defendant, for assaulting and obstructing John Pask, one of
the beadles of that parish, in the exercise of his office. It ap-
peared that the inhabitants of Upper St. Martin's-lane have
bean much annoyed of late with a number of costermongerf,
jockies, Ate. who assemble outside " A ldridge's Repository" for
the purpose of selling their horses. In the present ease Pask
had merely requested a boy to move off a cart with two hoists
from narrow part of the carriage-way, with which the latter
complied ; when the defendant and his brother came up and
grossly abused the prosecutor, and the defendant assaulted him,
by spitting in his face, &c.—The defendant called a man mauled
Wnght, who so grossly prevaricated, that he was ordered
out of Court.

The Jury found the defendant Guilty ; and he was sten.
:enced to ONE MONTH'S imprisonment and hard labour in the
!louse of Correction.

MERCANTILE SHIPPING.

DEAL, JULY 12.--Wind S.W.--Arrived the Promise,
Thrusgrove, from Ilavannah ; Karen Elise, Jansen, from.
Longsound ; Sophia, Arbo, from Dram ; and Vw. Etta,
Roben, from Amsterdam. Came down from the River, and
remain with the rest of the outward-bound, the Sir Charles
M'Carthy, Friend, for Demerara; Ileart of Oak, Robertson.
for Quebec; Resignation, S3unders, for Buenos Ayres ; and
Scandinavian, Schteur, for Alicant.
PORTSMOUTH, Juts 12.—Wind W.S.W.----Arrived the
Pilchard, Pocock, frobn Cape Coast Castle, in 39 days, with
loss of anchor and cable. bailed the Mangles, Cogill, for New
South \Vales. _ _

PLYMOUTN, Jut 11.—Wind W.—Off the Pert the.
Circus, Dean, 39 days, from Sierra Leone, for London ; lett
there the John, of Liverpool, sh reports that a packet had
arrived from the Gold Coast, and that an engagement was daily
expected ;—also the Dykzigt, Sckaa'r, from Batavia, for Han:-
burgh ; Wilmington and Liverpool Packet, Briggs, 25 days
from Virginia, for Bremen.
Fa tmotrrit, JULY 11.—Wind \V.—Arrived the Union,
Brock enshire, from London. Sailed the Fortitude, Dupen, for
Corunna and Lisbon.
LIVEItrOOL, JULY 11.—Arrived the Ulverstone, Carney,
from Savannah ; Margaret, Creighton, from St. John's, N. B.
William, Thomson, from St. Andrew's, N. B. ; and the Fairy
Queen, from Quebec.

Ills Majesty's ship Maidstone, Commodore Mullen, arrived
at Sierra t.eone the 2nd of slay from Portsmouth, and sailed
again on the sth, with his Majesty's ship Bann, for Cape Coast•

SHIPWRECK Or THE BRIO JESSIE, AHD DREADFUL
FATE OF THE CREIV.—It has never been our lot to record a
more melancholy catastrophe than the loss of this vessel, on
her homeward. passage to this port from the river St. Lawrence.
The intelligence is brought by the Mary, Ford, which arrived
here from Pictou, on Tuesday last. The Jessie, a fine new
vessel of 310 lons burden_, commanded by Captain M'Alpine,
a gentleman distinguished for his general talents, and particu-
larly for his skill as a seaman and a naval architect, Rail, d
from Three Rivera, in Prince Edward's Island, on the 2211 of
December last, a period of the year somewhat later than usual
for an European voyage. Nothing was known of the vessel
and crew for several months and it was so generally supposed
that she would never again' be beard of, that we understand
a settlement was in contemplation by the underwriters with
the Parties interested. It chanced, however, that on the 19th
of May last, the master of the mail-boat from Prince Etlivard's
Island to Pictou. discovered part of the wreck of a vessel
stranded on the Isle of St. Paul's, a barren rock about half a
Mile in circumference, 200 miles from Cape Breton, and 300
to 400 from Three Rivers. It was soon discovered to be the
remains of the Jessie, but no living creature was to he seen
[near her. On landing, the boatman found a weather.beaten .
temporary hut, and within it the awful apeCtucle of the'passen-
germ and crew of the Jessie, 22 in number, all dead. From Vie
remants of barrels, and other appearances, it was evident that on
being wrecked on this dreary inhospitable spot,they had succeed.
ed in erecting the hut with such materials as hail been washed on
shore from the wreck, and had saved some portion of the provi-
sions, but that, after the most dreadful sufferings from cold.
owing to inadequate shelter, and want of food and fuel, they had
perished under the united rigour of famine, and the storms of
an almost polar winter. What their sufferings must have
' been, or how long the stoutest among them were doomed to be-
hold the pallid bodies of their companions while the finger of
death pressed upon their own, there is now no tongue can-tell.
There was amongst them, besides the lamented coinmander of
the brig, Mr. Donald the owne.r of the vessel, and Mr.
Forbes, of Illiratnichi' a partner of Mr. Drinkwater, of this
town. 'rho names of the other Officers and crew of the brig
we have not been able to ascertain. On the intelligence of the
catastrophe reaching. Prince Edward's Island; a small vessel
was dispatched to bring the bodies for interment at that place ;
but owing to the change in the atmosphere, they were red to
be in such a state of decay, that it was necessare to per.omi the
last sad duties of humanity
on the spot where they p
(Liverpool Mercury.)ertshed.—

BOW-STREF.T—(TII IS UAL':)-7-TIT. driver of
a hackney-coach, No. 07, ifilsl st.iirOcaurq before
Mr. HALO, the presiding ,fingistrate, on a corn.
plaint preferred by a Gentleman named 1.14161 e,
for . refusing to take a fare, when ordered: so
to do on the Stand. It was proved, hew_
ever, that the coachman was afterwards.. Ob.
served about the town driving his coach, al.
though in his defence he mated eitrema Illness
and inability to drive the. COAO• 0011Chee ..was
about to have the penalty inflicted 'upon Alm,
when Mr. Hesse, in a very laudable and praise.
worthy manner, gave up the complaitit, OR the
icoachman paying for the suMmons, and compen-
, sating a witness.
GAILE.,---We learn that Came of every de-
,scription is unusually. Plentiful On the moors.its
the Highlands. The young moor-I/mine already
on .the wing, and are fullv as strong and ,well-
grown as they were . six weeks after this time
last year. The :young 11' l are tHICOUP,
Anonly numerous, and,tlte. .4rs
sportsmanso may he an.
ticipatift-
g, a season or escellent amusement...-
1 (111Verne3S Courier.)

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THE LONDON JOURNALS.

DAILY

Extracts from the Morning Paper:, July 13.

[THE TINES.]
The Papers received yesterday by the Lisbon
mail are wholly destitute of interesting matter,
but the private letters are curious for the light
they throw on the existing situation of the Court
of Portugal. The actual danger in which the
King was placed having for the present disup-
peared, it had been succeeded by a system of in-
trigue, set. on foot by the various parties aiming
at influence in order to gain the ascendancy ever
him. There is at Lisbon a French party, an
English party, a Spanish party, and a party
espousing the principles of the Holy Alliance,
which may also be called that of the Queen and
her son Miguel. The weakness of the King's
character, which renders him peculiarly suscep-
tible of personal influence, had appeared to give
each party in turn the prospect of success; but
as the discovery was soon made that none could
depend upon him, the objects of all were alike
in turn frustrated. If French intrigue has ac-
tually gained the upper hand at the Court of
Portugal, it has been conducted with peculiar
adroitness, as the impression unboubtedly is, to
judge from the tone of the best-informed private
letters, that English influence predominates.
Sir Edward Thornton is highly popular
•there, but Marshal Beresford less so, and
a recent proceeding of Count Subserra in pro-
curing the banishment from Court of a Portuguese
Lady of rank, for whom the Marshal had strongly
interested himself, and had even been instru•
mental in procuring her patent of nobility, was
believed, to be a blow secretly levelled at him.
The charge against the lady in question, of hav-
ing carried on a clandestine correspondence with
the queen of Portugal, was not thought to have
any substantial foundation. It was said to be
Lord Beresford's intention shortly to pay a visit
to Cadiz, he having applied for permission to
employ one of the Lisbon packets for that pur-
pdse, which permission he had obtained ; but it
was supposed that the journey was prompted
Solely by business of a private nature, and that
he would very shortly return to Lisbon. We have
been anxious to collect, if possible, from the pri-
vate letters from Lisbon, what the circumstances
were which led to the application for troops to the
English Government, of which at least no one
entertains a doubt. The origin of the request
seems to have been a general distrust of the con-
stitution of the Portuguese army. Men of reflec-
tion in the country are well aware, that when
au army has been the chief instrument in po-
litical revolutions, and has tasted the sweets
of the power derived from such a source, its
fidelity to any form of government will alwirys
assume en ambiguous character. They are always
ready, like the Protorian bands or the Janissaries,
to barter or give away a kingdom for an eaten-
aims of the privileges and pay of the military
order. The Portugese soldiery, who within the
last five years have several times been placed in
this predicament, ace discovering the, effect in
their conduct, in their insolence and disregard of
discipline. It is therefore wished to disband
nearly the whole of them, and knowing by former
experience the steady character of the English
troops, they have been asked for as a point d'ap-
pui for the Portuguese Government during this
very delicate and dangerous operation. On the
whole we discover nothing in the lows from Por-
tugal to justify any immediate apprehension of an
interruption of tranquillity.

Maw TIMIMi
We have been kvoured with the perusal of pri-
vate letters from Lisbon, received yesterday by
the packet, to the 30th ult.; and we regret to
state that they represent the state of affairs to be
far from settled. The arrests are said to have
been numerous ; amongst them was that of the
Editor of a Liberal Journal. It was known gone.
rally in Lisbon, that the King' had applied to the
British Government for the aid of troops ; and
it is added, his Majesty persisted in the re-
quisition, and had intimated, that in the event
of this country declining, the► proposal of as-
sistance from France wound be accepted.—
It was believed that no answer had yet been re-
ceived .11i the dispatches of Sir Edward Thorn-
ton. A Lady,nanted J uromenha, had been disco-
'waved to be particularly active in promoting plots
against the Governmeut,and was therefore ordered
to leave Lisbon in 48 hours. It is said that Marshal
Berasford, with the natural feeling of an English-
man toward the fair sex, bud twice applied to the
King in this Lady's favour ; but the reports of the
Police were probably too decisive of her crimina-
lity ; for notwithstanding the very great desire of
the King to gratify the Marshal, no further re-
laxation.of the orders previously issued could be
obtained, than that she should be allowed to
choose her place of residence anywhere beyond
a certain distance front the capital. Upon the
important subject of converting Lisbon into a free
port, nothing further had transpired. Mr. Can-
tring's speech Upon the South American question
had been translated at length, and inserted in
most of the Journals. These letters convey the
apprehension of the writers, that the reseal:
tranquillity was not of a description to warrant
the belief of its continuance.