The Sun.
London, England, 1828-04-02 00:00:00

SHIPPING INTELLIGENCE.

LI VERPOOL.
Msfinav, MARCH 31.—High water 13 min. past 11.
—Wind S.S.E.—Arrived the Defiance, Rodgers, from
New York, with cotton, turpentine, and flaxseed ; Bkvoin,
Knight, Newry, with oats; Solway (steamer), Wylie, do.
with do. ; Ann and Betsy, Watkins, Cardiff, with iron;
Dispatch, Jries, do. with do. ; Catherine, Hughes, do.
with do. ; Sarah, Smith, Larne, with sundries; r_Cluit,.el,
Sheerer, do. with do ; Ann, Kernoll, do. with do. ; Lee
(steamer), Chapman, C .Ic, with do. ; Corsair (steamer),
Goodwin, Belfast, with do. ; Earl of Roden (steamer),
Spencer, Dundalk, with do. ; James Watt (steamer),
Johnson, Greenock, with do. ; Melampus, Monteith, Leith,
with do. ; Lord William Paget, Hughes, Bristol, with do. ;
Fame, Miller, London, with do. ; Valiant, Watkins, South-
ampton, with do ; Sisters, Osborne, Campbeltown, with
do. ; Dolphin (steamer), Sinitbett, Dublin, with the mail.
2 brigs off -k past 6.
Telegraph Office, March 31.
Reported by telegraph, en Saturday evening—No. 127,
Huskisson, passed Holyhead outwards at 5 p. m.
Reported by telegraph yesterday (Sunday)—Passed
Holyhead outwards, No. 643, Dart, at 7 a. m., and No.
239, Crescent, at 12 at noon ; wind variable.
POINT LYNAS, MARCH 30.—Thirty minutes past ti, I
bark, 1 brig off, homeward-bound ; 7, 1 brig, 2 schooners,
1 galliot, ditto; 12 30, 4 brigs, 3 schooners, 2 sloops,
ditto.—Wind variable.

Brig Pleiades, and schooner William, sailed from Holy-
head on Saturday, at 5 p. m.
Twenty-five minutes past 2.—Ship off Point Lynas,
homeward, bound, supposed to be No. 351, Jane, from New
Orleans.

Messrs. Evans and Troke's private signal made by a brig,
between Floating-light and N.E. buoy.
A brig passed Holyhead homeward-bound at S this
morning, supposed to be No. 490, Highfield ; the signal
man was not sure of the number.—Wind at Holyhead this
morning South, light breeze.
An American ship, supposed to be a packet, passed Holy-
head at 6 o'clock last evening, homeward-bound. No. 18,
Higginson B. S. passed Holyhead, homeward-bound, to-day
at 3 o'clock, the vessels that sailed this tide are to the west-
ward, off Floating-light-2 40 p. m- all well.

FlRE.—Last night a destructive fire broke
out in the stables of Mr. Butcw, surgeon, of Blackheath,
which communicated to that gentleman's dwelling house,
and destroyed his stock of medicines. It was with some
difficulty got under at a late hour. Fortunately no livo
were lost.

MAGAZINE DAY.

BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.

This is an able number, with more than its usual
share of lively and miscellaneous information. The
Essay—Review, we believe it should be called—of Sir
H. Steuart's Theory of Transplantation, is a ramb-
ling eloquent sort of concern : earnest, poetic, and im-
passioned in places, rhapsodical, and downright a!-
surd in others, but in both instances, whether absurd
or rational, well worth perusal. We give the follow-
ing extract as a specimen :
Trees are indeed the glory, the beauty, and the delight
of nature. The man who loves not trees—to look at
them—to lie under them—to climb up them (once mere a
school-boy)—would make no bones of murdering Mrs.
Jeffs. In what one imaginable attribute, that it ought to
possess, is a tree, pray, deficient? Light, shade, shelter,
coolness, freshness, music, all the colours of the rainbow,
dew and dreams dropping through their umbrageous
twilight at eve or morn—dropping direct—soft, sweet„
soothing, and restorative, from heaven. Without trees,
or comforts of life?
how, in the name of wonder, could we have had houses,
ships, bridges, easy-chairs, or coffins, or almost any single
(W'neithoofuttheawni"m'enigiehnr ha've been born with a
trees,neesosnareiesm,
silver spoon in his mouth, but not another with a wooden
ladle.

Tree, by itself Tree, " such tents the patriarchs loved"
Ipse nemus—" the brotherhood of Trees"—the Grove, the
Coppice, the Wood, the Forest—dearly, and after a diffe-
rent fashion do we love you all !—Aud love you all we
while our dim eyes can catch the glimmer, our dull
ears the murmur, of the leaves—or our imagination hear
at midnight, the far-off swing of old branches groaning in
the tempest. 'Oh ! is not Merry also Sylvan England ?
And has not Scotland, too, Ler old pine forests, blackening
up her Highland mountains ? Are not many of her rivered
valleys not unadorned with woods—her braes beautiful
with their birken shaves?—And does not stately ash and
sycamore tower above the kirk-spire, in many a quiet
glen, overshadowing the bumble house of God, " the
dial-stone aged and green," and ell the deep-sunk, sinking,
or upright array of grave-stones, beneath which
" The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep ?"
" The Letters from the Peninsula," are lively but
without any very characteristic trait about them.
The analysis of Macnish's Anatomy of Drunkenness,
has some very 'spirited and powerful passages, de"
scriptive of the effects on the mind and person, of
habitual intoxication. The writer's powerful pen
cannot fail to be recognized. The " Letter &am a
Whig-hater" is remarkable solely for the brazen
quality of its assurance : it affects wit, but possesses
about as much of it as the Pilgrim's Progress. In
fact, it is altogether a silly, puerile, and unmeaning
tirade against what is called " Whiggery"—a poli-
tical distinction of which the author seems to have
no very definite idea. We hare no space for further
extracts.