The Sun.
London, England, 1821-07-05 00:00:00

COLEBROOK V. LEIGH

Mrs Colebrook, in proplia persona, requested that his Lord.
ship would deliver his Judgment on this petition.
The Loup CHANCELLOR.—" I will, Madam, very shortly:
The last time I sat here, Mr. Hart, I told you I could not grant
the prayer of the petition as prayed for,l have read the pe-
tition again since then, and think a middle course may be
Ulm]. The Petition goes to throw the Scotch estates into the
English, and that cannot be done, as there is no power of aliena-
tion of the Scotch estates."

Mr. HART.."--" I beg to'suggest to your Lordship whether
you could not order the payments to Mrs. Colebrook to-be made
out of the Engl;sh estate.
The LORD CLIANCELLOR.—" lam afracl not, alt'iough
there would be a family Convenience in doing so ; but look-
ing to the limitations of the Sco.ch estates, I doubt whether I
would be warranted in ordering it. The next time I sit here I
will tell you what I will do." His Lordship then turned to
Mrs. Co ebrooke, and said—" Be assured, Madam, I will do all
I can for you."
Mrs. Colebrooke then curtsied and left the Court. She is a
very handsome woman, and was most fashionably dressed. She
was accompanied by another Lady and her Solicitor.

COURT OF KING'S BENCH, JULY 4.

THE KING V. DOLBY.

Mr. SCARLET T applied to their Lordships to grant a Rule
to show cause why a Special Jury List, furnished by the Sheriff
to the Master of the Crown-office, in this case, should not be set
aside, and a new list furnished.

The Learned Counsel rested his motion upon the fourth and
fifth Statutes of George the Second, which provided that no
Special Juror should within the space of two years from hii
having filled that office be again included in the Special Jury
List. Ile had an affidavit which stated that within the last
Term several of those Jurors, whose names were to be found
in the list now furnished, had served upon Special Juries.
. The CHIEF JUSTICE thought that the object of the Statutes
to which allusion had been made by the Learned Counsel, was
to relieve Jurors from the severe pressure of a too laborious
duty. But no complaint of that nature had been made, and it
was not to be supposed that without extreme inconvenience, if
not to the total suspension of justice, a rule of this description
could. be conceded. It would, in fact, operate in such a way as
effectually to exclude the most competent individuals from rill;
ing the situation of Special Jurors.—Rule refused.

ILCHESTEIt INQUIRY.-The Commissioners ap.-
pointed to investigate the serious charges brought
against Mr. Bridle, Governor of the Gaol of P.
chester, terminated their arduous labours on
turday evening la t. After four months unceai;.
ing exertion of the great green-eyed radical
Hunt, his host of adherents without, 200 culprits
within—after fourteen days of inquiry by a Com-
mittee, and 36 by the Commissioners of the
House of Commons, not a single charge has been
substantiated against the Covertor. Qn .the
contrary, his conduct has been proved to be most
laudable ; although in preserving peace, good
order and industry in gaol, and in protecting the
weak, the unsuspecting and well behaved part of
the community consigned to his care, from those
whose desperate conduct and disappointment
were a perpetual annoyance to their fellows in.
adversity, he was obliged to exercise occasional,
punishment. Hunt's mortification is extreme,
and has produced a visible alteration in his per-
son.—(Morning Post.)

So great is the number of Sparrows in the H lines of Cum-
berland—and such have been the eff.:tas of t! eir visitation—
that the farmers in that part of the country have absolutely
been driven to the necessity of forming a Society for their
destruction ; which seems to promise the desired success. The
regulations of the Society are simply—tn give one. halfpenny
for every four eggs that are delivered to their Secretary, and a
penny for every old sparrow : and to contribute equally.towards
the funds. The mortality in the feathered species is, in conse-
quence, very great. _ _

Yesterday se'nnight, a man in the service of
Mr. MACKENZIE incautiously discharged a fowl-
ing piece at a pidgeon, at Church Farm, East
Woodhay,near Newbury; the wadding alighting
on some thatch, caught lire, in consequence of
which three barns were totally destroyed, to-
gether with a stable, cow-house, piggeries, a sow
arid eight pigs, several stacks of hay, an oat-rick,
and about two loads of threshed wheat.

A widow of the name of MILLER, IS now 'MR:.
at Lynn, at the great age 107 years, and re-
tains all her faculties and senses, except sight.
She has lived in the reigns of the four Georges,
and well remembers the Coronation of GEORGE
the FIRST.

SUICIDE.—An Inquisition was taken yester-
, day before J. W. UNWIN, Esq. Coroner, at the
White Hart Tavern, 'Wheeler-street, Spitaltields,
on view of the body of Mr. Thomas Taw les, aged •
about 40 years. It was proved that the deceased' .
was in a disturbed state of mind, and the Jury •'
returned a verdict, 44 that the deceased put a
period to his existence by hanging himself, being
at the time-in a state of temporary mental de-
rangement."
DREADFUL SUICIDE.--Tuesday afternoon, a
young woman went into a shop the Borough to
purchase some articles. On being served with
which, she tendered two counterfeit shillings,
and ultimately gave a new counterfeit half
crown. The owner of the shop prevented her
leaving it, and sent for an Officer.—Shortly after--
wards Childe and Dean, two officers, arrived,
who took the woman into custody, and conveyed •
her to the Guilford-street watch-house, where
she gave her name " Sarah Clow•ster," and Ora
she resided at Rotherhithe. The officers locked
her up and proceeded to make further inquiry
concerning her. On their return to the watch.
house, they found her suspended from an iron •
bar by the end of her apron, the other Enid
tied round her•neck. She was quite dead. .

THE LONDON JOURNALS.

DAILY-EXTRACTS , ERO)1 THE MORN f:NC -PAPERS.

July 5.

BUONAPARTE.
; • [THE,
The despatches brought by Captain COCKETT,
announcing the death of BtroNAeAkTE, are dated
St. ilelena,•May )7. That • event took place on
the sth of May, at ten minutes before kix in the
afternoon. The illness of the ex-Emperor lasted,
in- 'the' whole,. six weeks ; and its effects on his
frame, as described by an officer who had• fre-
quent opportunities• of seeing him during that
period, were so powerful as nearly to reduce him
to a skeleton, and to obliterate all traces of his
former features. During' the latter part of his
illness he frequently conversed with- his medical
attendants on its nature, of which he seemed to
be perfectly aware. He declared that it was
heredilary, and that his father had died of the
same disease. Ofi examination after death, the
stomach was found in a state of extreme ulcera-
tion, so that it appeared in some places perforated
in large openings. His medical attendants gave
it as their decided opinion, in which the physi-
cian who was called hi coincided, that the disease
was incurable, and that the climate had had no
effect in producing it. One trait of character
displayed itself in his last moments, which marks
the " ruling passion strong in death." As he
found. his end approach, he was hahited, at his
own request, in his uniform of Field Marshal,
with the boots and spurs, and placed on a camp
bed, on which he was accustomed to sleep
when in health, and, preferred to every other.
In this dress he is said to have expired. It has
been asserted that the Heron, 'which brought
the despatches, also brought the body of Buona-
parte to England, but this we understand, is not
the case. His attendants wished his body to be
conveyed to Europe ; but on opening his will it
was found that he had left a request that his body
should be interred in the island, and pointed out
the spot where he wished his remains to rest, hi a
beautiful valley near to his residence. Though
Buonaparte is supposed to have suffered
much, his dissolution was .so calm and se-
rene, that not a sigh escaped him, or any
intimation to the by-standers that it was so
near. At the departure of the Heron no day
had been fixed for the funeral, but it was under-
stood that it would be solemnized with the mili-
tary honours due to his rank. A likeness of
Buonaparte, after his decease, was sketched by an
English oticer, and is brought to, England.
Count Montholon, we hear, arrived by the ship
which brought the intelligence of this event, and
immediately forwarded it by an extraordinary
courier to the French ambassador. Numerous
expresses left town yesterday morning to an-
nounce the death of Buonaparte to the different
European courts. The news will be conveyed
from Calais to the French capital by telegraph,
where it will probably be known in- less than 24
hours after its arrival in London.

[MORNING POST.]
The most important intelligence which has
re-ached this country since the battle of Waterloo
broke the thraldom of the world and restored the
independence of Europe, arrived yesterday. Na-
poleon, the Conqueror, at whose feet Monarchs
knelt, and the Powers of the earth, with the ex-
ception of England, bent for a time with hum-
ble submission and adoration, no longer breathes
in that universe which he filled with terror
and ,desolation. Of a man who has filled so
large a space in the history of mankind, it
is difficult, at so early a period as the pre-
sent, to form a just estimate. His enmity
against our country was so deadly and unre-
lenting ; he was so much bent on the degradation,
if not on the annihilation of the British name, that
it is not without some difficulty we bring our-
selves to speak of his conduct, adopting as we
most cordially do the maxim, " De mortuis nil
nisi bonum." It may, therefore, be sufficient to
say, that he was without doubt the leading spirit
of the age in which lie lived. Endowed by na-
ture with genius only equalled by his ambition,
and favoured by circumstances so far as to meet
for many years with no difficulty which he could
not surmount, no force which he could not over-
power, and no glory which he could not eclipse,
it is not astonishing that he should have forgotten
that he belonged to a race whose powers are
limited, and should have deemed himself resist-
less and omnipotent. To this belief, or rather in-
fatuation, he owed the reverses which clouded
his latter years, and made him terminate a career
of triumph and glory in exile and imprison-
ment. Placed by fortunate circumstances in a
situation where he might be the minister of un-
bounded good to mankind, instead of proving
himself a benefactor, he chose to become a
scourge and a curse. Earth was too little for his
ambition. Worthless as it is, lie coveted a larger
field for the exercise of his talents and the grati-
fication of his rapacity. But when his preten-
sions exceeded the bounds of human.daring—
when he attempted to contend not only with
men and their strength, but with the untried
strength of elements—when amidst the smoking
ruins of Moscow, he challenged the slumbering
energies of a polar winter, he was smitten in his
pride, and the vigour of the giant was turned
into infant weakness. How he fell, and rose
again only to fall with deadlier violence, it is un-
necessary for us to relate. Suffice it to say, that
the prisoner of St. Helena was still the terror of
an emancipated world. As long as he breathed,
no Continental Monarch could feel his diadem fixed
and steady on his brow. The Magician who tram-
pled upon Crowns and States had lost his wand;
but one moment, one accident, might still have
restored it. The danger is now passed—the spirit
of towering ambition is for ever quelled. He
has now rendered up an account of his mortal
deeds to that God, before whom human glory is
but pollution and 64 abomination." Hostile as
we were to our enemy during life, may he be
forgiven after death. This is a prayer in which
every Briton, or at least every Christian, will
unite. The conquered is turned into dust.—Shall
the Conqueror be proud and exult, because he
may survive one hour or one day ?—A life of am-

!Tbition, and the prostitution of the noblest faculties
Ito the worst purposes, thus ends in a lingering
death in the dreary hour of affliction, almost
without the cheering presence of a friend, or the
tender consolations 'of a relation—ve will not
withhold the inspiring hope which is imparted
by religion ; for though Napoleon - whether
among Mahometans or Christians, uniformly ren-
dered religion subservient to his political views,
still it cannot be denied that he possessed a great
mind, the resources of which, we are fond to be-
lieve, were properly used in the solitude to which
his ambitidus projects had devoted him.,--Peace,
therefore, to his probably repentant Manes !

[BRITISH PRESS.]
The character of Napoleon Buonaparte, and
the influence which his fame and fortune have so
long exercised upon the political condition of
Europe, or rather, we should sat, of the civilized
portion of the globe, have been too frequently
and too recently discussed, both in writings and
conversation, to become now suitable topics for
further remarks. The memory of kis achieve-
ments is still too fresh not to be associated
strongly in the public mind with an energetic
sense either of admiration or of hatred, and until
this personal bias be wholly obliterated, it will
not be possible to sketch his character with
candour and impartiality. But whatever may
be the judgment of posterity respecting the mo-
tives and the means that regulated and marked
the exercise of his talents, whether he shall be
considered as the scourge or the benefactor of
any portion of Europe, there can be no second
lopinion with regard to the magnificence of his de-
signs and the imposing greatness of his talents.—
His actions must ever stand as prominent epochs
in the history of mankind, and his name must in
times.far distant distinguish the age in which he
lived. The death of Buonaparte will be a great
saving in the public expenditure of England.
The Saint Helena establishment has been esti-
mated at about 300,0001. a-year,butwith incidental
and accidental expences, it may be perhaps rated
as little short of 400,0001. When Buonaparte
escaped from Elba the French charged England
with having let him loose, thus insinuating that
his liberty would promote her interests. In the
opinions of the French, therefore, England has
paid two millions of money in her own wrong on
account of Buonaparte, and this immense • sum
she has F .id for the honour of being the keeper
of the prison of her, best friend.

rNEW TIMES.] "
Information was received yesterday of an event,
which a few years ago would have produced a
most extraordinary sensation throughout Europe.
Dispatches arrived from St. Helena, announcing
that Buonaparte expired on the sth of May. It
is a remarkable instance of the mutability of
human affairs, that this intelligence scarcely
moved the English Funds an eighth per cent.!
The mighty Emperor, the wonderous Conqueror,
had long before ceased to exist ; and what be-
came of the shadow, which wandered about on a
desart rock of the Ocean, was felt to be a matter
totally indifferent. After all the declamations
against the unhealthiness of Buonaparte's place
of confinement, it turns out that he died of the
same disease as his father, who never moved from
his native town of Ajaccio. The old Notary
perished of an uncommon disease, a cancer in the
stomach ; and Buonaparte, it is said, aware of this
circumstance, formed a right conjecture of the
nature of his own malady. He, however,
very properly directed his body to be opened,
that his son might be informed of the na-
ture of his complaint. Sic transit Gloria
Mundi ! It was but a few years ago that
this man saw himself at the head of the most
formidable army the world ever furnished,
with nations for his treasury, and Kings and Em-
perors for his attendants. It seems that nothing
could withstand his power, and that his pros-
perity was as boundless as his wishes. " Pride
compassed him about as a chain, and violence
covered him as a garment." But his greatness is
now " a dream when one awaketh :" he is re-
moved from the face of the earth ; and we scarce-
ly mark the hour of his departure. These are
striking and awful lessons to mankind, and espe-
cially to those who have received talents, and
wealth, and power above their cotemporaries, and
who turn these gifts to their own selfish aggran-
disement, instead of directing them to the bene-
fit of their fellow men, to the maintenance of
order and true liberty, and to the promotion of
religion and virtue, the sure and only guides to
temporal and eternal Lappiness. It is difficult to
say how far Buonaparte may have deceived him-
self into the belief that he had done good to
others in the course of his career ; but he too
palpably betrayed an utter disregard of every
principle which stood in the way of his own ag-
grandisement. When we look back on the vain
and preposterous claims which he openly ad-
vanced to universal admiration ; we blush that
this " 'enlightened" age, as it is called, could
be the dupe of such empty ostentation. Even
now, weak and the discontented think of
him only as a great man, unfortunately for-
getting that his misfortunes were the genuine,
natural, and necessary results of his vices.—
He is, however, gone to his account, and we do
not now wish to dwell with asperity on the re-
collections which his name recalls to mind. Yet
on such persons the grave does not immediately
close. History necessarily reads a lesson over
their ashes; and it is impossible to apply to their
public characters the rule " de mortuis nil nisi
benum," whatever we may wish to do in regard
to their private failings. It appears that he was,
for a long time previous to his dissolution, per-
fectly sensible of its approach. Under such circum-
stances, an entire self-delusion was not easily
practicable ; and we trust that he made serious
efforts towards " redeeming the time."

[MORNING HER A LD.]
It is chiefly as a great master of the art of
war and conquest that the name of Buonaparte
will go down. When the extent and splendour
of his victories are compared with those of the
greatest Captains, modern or ancient, it is diffi-
cult to fix upon a name to which a superiority
over him could be adjudged. Hannibal is re-

' carded as one of the greatest warriors of antiquity.
His invasion and occupation of Italy—the hor-
rible carnage which he committed upon armies
composed of the flower of the Roman pAple,
the most warlike and patriotic people of
the world—with an army composed of the re-
fuse of Spain and Africa, united by. no tie but
that of plunder, yet made to act and to endure
with the utmost force of courage and discipline, is
certainly a brilliant phenomenon in the history, of
military genius. It is, perhaps, as a military ex-
ploit, more amazing than the first conquest of
Italy, by Buonaparte, to which it bears an
analogy. But how much has Buonaparte the
advantage, as a statesman and negotiator, during
that memorable campaign ? Hannibal's abandon-
ment of himself to the sensuality of Capua, where
he was already lost, before the invasion of Africa,
by Scipio, is in the spirit of a marauding adven-
turer, rather than a soldier—anti of political ta-
lent he gave not a glimpse. Of all the great Ge-
nerals,of antiquity, Buonaparte, perhaps, most re-
sembled Philip of Macedon, who was unscrupulous
in his means, and conquered the bravest and most
civilized enemies by his Cabinet intrigues and his
inventive genius in military science. In the ex-
tent, combination, and sagacity of what, in the
military art, is called " the coup &tell," Napo-
leon is said to have surpassed all competition, as
well as in the manoeuvring of large masses of
men.—lt is said that .he could wield 100,000
men as easily as a Colonel could his regiment.—
Another quality which he possessed was inspir-
ing the soldier with confidence even to enthu-
siasm.—This art was not confined to his army.—
The ascendency of his genius fascinated the
gaze not only of the French, but even of a great
portion of the indifferent of other nations, who
did not hate him. He was a brilliant usurper—
a character calculated the most of all others
to fascinate minds that have any ardour,
and affect boldness in speculative princi-
ples, and an emancipation from prejudice.—
Yet, there are in his life some sublime and daz-
zling traits. His courage in the field has been
called in que3tion, but without reason. There
are numberless instances in which he signalized
it—but never without an adequate motive—
without an emergency, which shed personal
lustre upon himself, and held out chances of a
great stake. In civil or political emergencies
his courage, his self-possession failed-L--he became
confused or intemperate. He has done much in
his time, and France and Europe will long retain
the impress of hisgenius and character. The great
object. of his life was power—direct, positive
power. He spoke his will as if he wished that" his
words were blows." Even glory, separate from
the acquisition . of power, had no attraction for
him. And shall it be said that he was wrong ?
Docs not the history of his own life and death
justify the bent and object of his ambition ? His
fall from power excited a sensation like a great
shock—His descent from life into the grave, an
event much more awful, has hardly caused the
slightest emotion. A leading feature in his mind
was his contempt of men, and his disdaining to con-
ceal it.. The latter was an imprudence. lie was
naturally,austere, and he had disciplined his heart
to an utter impenetrability. Yet the softness of
nature in him was not wholly done away. He had
the sentiment of friendship, and more personal
friends than most Monarchs. His attachment and
kindness to his family were remarkable. HIS
mother preserved great sway over him in private,
and he possessed the affections of both his wives.
His religion was a kind of fatalism, which con-
stantly appeared in his speeches and bulletins.
Speaking of the death of General Muireur, in
Egypt, he says, in" a despatch to the Directory,
" General Aluireur, in spite of all remonstrance,
and by a fatility which I have often remarked in
men arrived at their last hour, went out alone, and
was assassinated by two Bedouins." On the eve
of a battle, he says to the army of Italy, " Death
overtakes the coward, but never strikes the brave
till his hour is come."

[MORNING CHRONICLE.]
The man whom nature and fortune made so
peculiarly the object of their favour, and on
whom the eyes of the world were incessantly
fixed, from his first appearance on the scene,
to his final removal from it, is now no more.—
The intelligence of the death of Napoleon
Buonaparte was, SOOII after its arrival, known
in every part of this metropolis, and pro-
duced every where a -strong sensation. The
eventful period during which he wielded at will
the destinies of the Continent, when the most
powerful Sovereigns of Europe vied with each other
in the abjectness of their submission to him, and
when even we, protected as we are by our navy,
and our situation, saw so much cause for appre-
hension from his power, is yet too fresh in our
recollection, to allow us to receive the account of
his death as we would that of one of the mob of
Monarchs. Fallenfrom his power, the miserable
victim of a cheerless and rigorous captivity, the
people remembered that he was a Sovereign by
nature ; and while a, Francis, an Alexander, a
Frederick, or a LQUiS would, under the same
destiny, have attracted as little of the re-
gard of the present generation as they will
of that of posterity, they willingly paid to
him the homage to which his extraordinary
genius and energy entitled him. The reproof
which one individual received from the Meeting
of East India Proprietors for alluding to Napo-
leon in a harsh and unbecoming manner, may be
considered a fair test of the general feeling. The
history of the close of his life is every thing but

ionourahle to those who are at the helm of affairs
n this country, and even to the nation itself.—

f his detention was necessary to the repose of
Europe—if it was impossible that the Sovereign
of England could receive him as another Themis-
tocles—it was not surely necessary that his cap-
tivity should have been embittered by such an
incessant display of petty tyranny as made his
life a burden to him, and could not fail to
bring it to a rapid close. But we will not
dwell on this painful subject. He belongs now
to, History ; and while envy itself will be
forced to allow him the possession of the highest
talents, his indifference to every thing but his
own personal exaltation must also he admitted.
Wielding, as he did, the power of the new order

of things, he might have conferred the greatest
and most lasting benefits on mankind. _lf he
had bad the good of the human race at heart, he
would never have sought to ally himself with
thoSe Dynasties Which the Revolution and him-
self had made 30 ridiculous and contemptible
in the eyes Of the world ; nor have attempted
with:so 'much eagerness to foster and revive the
aristocratical prefudices to which the Revolution
had given such a shock, in order to surround him-
self with a pageantry which he of all rulers least
required. He might easily have extended to other
countries the benefits which France had by her
struggle succeeded in obtaining,and destroyed the
reign of feudalism and privilege in Europe. But
the benefits which foreign nations received
from France, as a compensation for the loss
of their independence, were received by them
before his accession to power. At a very early
period of his career, he distinguished himself by
his hatred of free Institutions, and he carefully
preserved the vicious Governments, and most of
the vicious Institutions of the countries which he
subjugated. The free Institutions of France
which he inherited from the Republic, he
either destroyed or greatly corrupted, and the most
important of all, namely, .Jury Trials, was con-
verted into a complete State engine. The noble
plan of instruction which the great men of the
Revolution formed, but were unable to carry
into complete execution, and which would soon
have freed France from the reproach which still
attaches to her, of a great want of knowledge in the
mass of the population, soon dwindled down to
a petty object in his hands. One can understand
why the Ultras should openly avow their hostility
to the instruction of the people in reading, writ-
ing and accounts, as a national evil; but that self-
ishness should so warp and blind a mind of such
singular power as that of Napoleon, is, indeed.
a singular phenomenon. But hiS selfishness proved'
the cause of his downfal. The people of the
Continent feared him, but hated him as their op-
pressor, and they seized the very first favourable
moment to join those whom they hated only
less than himself, in order to put an end to
his power. Gratitude for benefits would have
rendered time population either friendly to him
or neutral, and the snows of Russia, which
annihilated his army, would still have left his
power almost intact.
,The confidence of the
world, when once lost, cannot easily be re-
gained. Hence the incredulity with which the
pledges of Buonaparte on his return from Elba
were generally received. This we can under-
stand. But we fear the friends of liberty con-
tinued to invest him with all his former power,
when circumstances had rendered it almost im-
possible for him ever to regain it; and the po-
pulation of Germany, once more, roused by
the strains of liberty, poured itself out on
France, and aided our 'gallant countrymen at
Waterloo to destroy the independence. of the
fairest part of Europe, and to rivet the chains of
the nations.

PROVINCIAL JOURNALS.

ROMAN CATHOLICS.

We have taken the following article from The
Hibernian Journal of the 30th ult. with the
areater satisfaction, because it shows that The
Dublin Evening Post, which was heretofore one
of the most strenuous advocates for the Roman
Catholic claims, seems to view the subject in a
new light, and is reasonably struck with the
im-
propriety of any intrusion upon his MAJESTY that
may tend to interrupt the enjoyment which he
may expect to derive from his approaching visit
to his loyal subjects of the sister island :

" DR. MILLNER.-ROMAN CATHOLIC AIEETING.—We
are pleased to find, and we esteem it creditable on the part of
" The Hibernian Journal," that it was the first Newspaper in
Dublin to caution the Roman Catholic Body, as wcll.as to ap-
prize the Protestants, of attempts to call an Aggregate Meet-
ing, which could not possibly benefit the Roman Catholics, and
may probably do them much injury. Some of the Newspapers
generally in their own interest, seem to have taken up our view
of the case, in corroboration of which we quote the following
observations from The Dubliii Evening Post of Thursday :
. PROPOSED CATHOLIC MEETING.—The Reader will see
thae•there is a Requisition for an Aggregate Meeting. The
ostensible object of the'Meeting is to prepare an Address to the
King. The real object, we have been informed, is to counter-
balance the Meeting held at D'Arcy's last Spring:. We put it •
to the Catholics of Ireland, whether this be a period to stir up
angry feelings, or to launch, unnecessarily, into controversy.
We put it to the Requisitionists to consider. whether this be the
mode which they should take in welcoming his Majesty to this
part of his dominions.-ewhether it be necessary to get up a
Public Meeting to discuss the Veto, just at this time—whether,
if there be, and we feel satisfied that there are, serious objec-
tions to such an arrangement, the time calls fur their discussion
just at present. Dr Miliner, we understand, •is in Dublin.
ile is a learned and pious Prelate, and will, no doubt, be
treated with respect and. hospitality ; but really we would wish
to leave the Ecclesiastical part of the Catholic Question to the
legitimate depositories of the Catholic Church in Ireland--
namely, the Irish Bishops. Of the prudence or consistency of
Dr. Millner, we have not, we do confess, the highest opinion.
He is not wanted. •He should not . have a voice potential, or
even optative in Irish politics. We say again, let the Requi-
sitionists pause. We perceive there are many good and re-
spectable men amongst them ; but we miss, at the same time,
the names of many respectable and good men. To the for-
mer we would appeal. Is this a tune when any disunion
should appear among the Catholics of. Ireland ? As to the
Address--is there any occasion, we would ask, to prepare
it now ? • For the love of God, let us have no tine or
gaudy compositions—we are sick of them, and of their au-
thors.. At all events, the Address will conic with a better grace
—will smell less of the lamp—on the arrival of his Majesty.
Let there be a meeting then by all means; but let the object be
defined, and confined to an expression of duty—of aflixtionate
attachment and ardent loyalty—to the first 'British .I;!onarch
that ever visited Ireland in peace—to the first King whose ar-
rival all sects, all parties and denominations hail with unani-
mity and delight. Let there be at least unanimity for once,
among the Catholics—let not those who are looking for liberty,
exhibit an odious and contemptible exception to any other
class of their Countrymen. The daemon of mischief alone
would recommend another course. it will be delightful to the
foes of Catholic freedom. Indeed, if we had rot reason to know
what was passing behind the curtain—if we did not believe in
our hearts that the getters up of this meeting are really anxious
for Emancipation, though there are some uncharitable enough
to suppose the contrary—vie should have no hesitation in say-
ing, that the enemies of the country alone would suggest the
introduction of polemical tapirs just at this time."

CHILD DROPPING.-About half past ten
o'clock on Friday night, a very fine male child,
apparently about six weeks old, was brought to
the workhouse of the parish of St. Anne, Black-
friars, which was found exposed in the street, de-
serted by its unnatural parent ; it was dressed in
a white bed gown, frilled at the bosom, a worked
muslin cap, lined with red silk, and laced foot-
►ng let in behind, with two narrow lace borders,
white ribband, chintz stay, and cockade of the
same. There was a bundle, containing other
necessary articles; found with the child.