The Sun.
London, England, 1828-10-02 00:00:00

STORNAWAY.

• Arrived here last week in a 'very exhausted
state, Captain Stenton, and four of the crew, of
the ship Emerald, of St. John's, New Bruns-
wick, from the island of St. Kilda. Capt..Sten-
ton states, that having had a tedious passage
across•the Atlantic, and St. Kilda being the first
land that the.ship made, he was induced, from
the mildness of the weather, to land, in expecta-
tion of procuring some fresh provisions and
water. He' says that he had no sooner 'landed
than it came on to blow, very fresh 'from the west-
ward ; and when a dense fog, which accompanied
the gale, had subsided, -it was found that the
ship had been blown off, and upon ascending
the most elevated parts of the island, no trace of
her could be seen in any direction. Capt. Sten-
ton remained a week on this remote island, daily
looking' out for thele-appearance of his ship, and
wherfilig saw that her :return became unlikely, he
rescived ;upon the desperate attempt of quitting
the island in the boat in which he had landed
(which was only about twelve feet keel), and to
steer for the Orkney Islands, whither he sup-
posed his ship had been driven. He accordingly
left St. Kilda, from whose inhabitants he expe-
rienced all the hospitality and kindness their
scanty circumstances could afford, and made for
the eastward,. without either compass or sail, their
provisions consisting only of two buckets of
water, and a few cakes of coarse bread. They
had rowed only about five leagues, when the sea,
hitherto calm, became instantly ruffled, and a
breeze sprung up, which in a few minutes termi-
nated in a most violent gale. Every successive
wave seemed ready to ingulf them ; but they
contrived to avoid the danger, by keeping the
boat's head to the sea, and thereby rode it,
with apparent safety. About twelve o'clock at
night, however, she shipped a sea, which almost
filled her. The buckets which had been used to
contain their little stock of water were used to bale
out the water, which was not without the greatest
exertion effected. The fury of the storm still
continuing, about three o'clock in the • morning'
she shipped another sea, which nearly over-
whelmed her. A watery grave now seeming in-
evitable, struck horror into their appalled bosoms.
The darkness of the night, their entire ignorance
of the direction from which the wind blew, and
the idea of drifting through the Western Ocean,
supposing them to survive the storm, without one
morsel whereon to subsist, and as little prospect
of ,deliverance, preyed so much upon their minds,
that they became abandoned to despair, and a
considerable time elapsed ere a single effort was
made to relieve the boat. It was cold, and
rained hard, which added m uch to their sufferings,
and rendered their condition truly pitiable and
distressing. The boat was, however, again baled
dry, and the morning approached their drooping
spirits began to revive. The storm gradually di-
minished, and the rising of the sun enabled them
to see that the wind blew between the northern
and the westward, which would carry them
to some 'part of the Long Island. They ac-
cordingly rowed in that direction,. and next day
landed at Scarp, on the west side of the Lewis.
Happy and thankful for having escaped the dan-
gers they had. thus so awfully and recently en-
countered, they remained there for the night, and
next day proceeded in their boat to Stornaway,
a distance of 30 miles, where, they arrived on
Thursday last in an enfeebled state. Upon
'Captain Stenton's reaching Stornaway, he was
informed of the safe arrival of his ship in the
Orkneys, whither he immediately proceeded to
join her. She is timber-laden, and bound from
St. John's, New Brunswick, to Hull.—Glas-
gow Chronicle.

Silt GEORGE Mir-L.-The Right Honour-
able Baronet has addressed a letter to 114 in reference to Mr.
DAwsoN ; and nothing but the Reports of the Meetings—
and which it was impossible to postpone, could prevent our
insertion of it in the publication of this evening. It shall
positively appear on Wednesday, and we call public atten-
tion to it.—Dublin Evening Mail.

The trade in gin must be the most flourishing
of any, if we may judge from the expensive manner in
which the retailers of it, all over the town, are fitting up
-thvir poison shops. • . .

Mr. BYERS, one of the guardians of the public
aga►nst the overloading of stage coaches, is at this time
taking a professional tour through the West of England.
A craggy rock adjoining . the Land's End, in
Cornwall, has obtained the name of Dr. Johnson's Head,
from the marked resemblance it bears to the physiognomy
of our great moralist.

On Saturday morning the house of Mr.
Orrr.Fv, proprietor of the Burton ale-rooms, in Henrietta-
street, Covent-garden, was broken open, and a quantity of
plate and wearing apparel stolen.

" In colleges, such as have been instituted in
former ages, the professors enjoy the advantages of
independence and seclusion, and are removed from
the distraction of our busy world. It is otherwise
in London. Here professional rtien are differently
situated, and more activity is requisite, perhaps of
a different kind, less contemplative or theoretical—
more practical; and to maintain a distinguished
place unceasing exertion is necessary. They are on
an acclivity, or rather in a rushing stream, where
they will be carried down if they do not endeavour
to ascend. In the course of thirty years- I have
seen the establishment of many schools attempted
but it has always happened that the temptation of
following a lucrative practice has far outweighed the
desire of reputation to he gained' by teaching ; and,
consequently, just when the professor became use-
ful by the knowledge he was capable of- communi-
cating, he has withdrawn himself : and so the situa-
tion of a medical teacher, instead of being the
highest, and" entitling him who holds it to be con-
sulted in cases of difficulty,--=as' being of the seniors
of his profession—one who has withstood petty so-
licitations, and has maturely studied as well as
practised,--it is merely .looked upon as a situation
introductory to .business—one of expectancy, and
to be occupied in rapid succession by young and in-
experienced men. • Let us hope; that instead of this
rapid succession, this University may be able to
raise the professors of science to higher considera-
tion, hiduce men of talents to prepare themselves for
teaching, and to continue their public labours to a
later period of life.
" With respect to our students, the defects of
their mode of education are acknOwledged on all
hands : they are at once engaged in medical studies,
without adequate preparation of the mind--that is to
say, without having acquired the habit of attenticfn
to a course Of reasoning; nor are they acquainted
with those sciences which are really necessary to pre-
pare them for comprehending the demerits of their
own profession. But in this place this is probably
the last time they will be unprepared, for example,
for such subjects as we must touch on to-day. In
future they will come here to apply the principles
they have acquired in the other :lass rooms to a new
and more useful science.

" Another disadvantage -of the mode of conduct-
ing our medical schools has arisen from the too nu-
merous engagements of the heads of schools, and a
want of the necessary division of labour. In conse-
quence of this, there is no one to take an interest in
the student's welfare--to recommend regularity--to
observe his character--to notice his moral or religi-
ous conduct. In short, there can be no condition
more solitary and neglected than that of a young
man, who has come to London to pursue his studies,
until he form his own society. And thus, without
a guide, he makes the first and most difficult step
in life—that which may give a colour to all his fu-
ture objects. How different his condition here !
Instead of the unnoticed privacy of his chambers
where there is nothing to give him the hope of dis-
tinction through study, or to gild his prospects ; and
how prone is genius to be distrustful of itself„and to
add gloom to poverty and solitude—here, he is
watched with solicitude, not by his Professors only,
but by those able as willing to raise him to the dis-
tinction he shall deserve--men of extensive in-
fluence, who have given abundant proofs of their
desire to display the fair rewards of virtue, to foster
genius, and to open the prospects of the unfriended
student.—(Cheers.)

" Tb:•re is a character that attaches to our medi-
cal students which well deserves the consideration
of all who desire their improvement. Besides the
pleasure and the independence of mind which a
young man finds resulting from habits of study, there
is something peculiar in the character of the medical
student.

" His occupations lead him off from authority at
an immature and'danverous time of life. The pur-
suit of experinkntal philosophy, and the history of
those sciences to which he is now introduced, tend
to give him a mean opinion of the efforts of indivi-
duals, and to beget a suspicion of any thing like
authoritative language. His mind suddenly illumi-
nated, and feeling all the delights which arise from
the contemplation of nature and the cultivation of
science, if you love him and value his permanent
good, touch with extreme delicacy upon his reli-
gious opinions. The man of classical accomplish-
ments only has lost his influence upon him, and
hence arises a jealousy in many pious and learned
men of the cultivators of philosophy. They And,
they scarcely know how, that the youth have
escaped from their control. To our students, books
are no longer talismans and spells ; they have no
respect for 'antiquity, and names have no authority
with them. Taught to surrender their judgment to
experiment only, can we be surprised that they re-
quire to be reasoned with, and to have the example
before 'them of men highly informed in those de-
partments of knowledge, which they are in the habit
of considering the test of intellectual eminence ?
" In classical learning, that is, in the works of
imagination, the ancients must have anticipated all
the most natural and obvious allusions, and in sim-
plicity, force, and beauty, must surpass the moderns.
But in:physical science.the course of discovery is
progressive and expanding, and the facts discovered
daily are more and more interesting and important.
The consequence is naturally this—the student of
the former are more amenable to authority : they
look back on ancient times as being worthy of all
admiration, whilst the student of the latter class is
conscious that he knows a great deal more than the
most ingenimE or 'inquisitive of those who lived a

•
hundred years before him, and considers • them ,
haiing lived in the childhood of the world..
" I do not speak of this condition of mind in our
students Its an adiantage, but merely as a too natural
consequence of their mode of education. As an ad-
vocate for that body of men with whom I have been
so long connected, I ask, if we shall not find clergy-
men who, animated by a zeal for religion, will fit
themselves to becOme guides to this important class,
by acquiring another claim upon their attention, be-
sides the authority in which they are already clothed
and who shall maintain their superiority by the ex-
tent of their scientific acquirements, being such as
can be best appreciated by these young men.
" If religious duties • have in the early part of life
been taught with parental affection—if the volun-
tary labours of some of our professors -extend these
lessons in a manner suited to the growing capacity
of our students—if our students have a place of public
worship, and jf on such occasions they ate under
the eye of those by whom they have been, instructed
cluing the week, there is in this respect incalculable
improvement in their. condition.
indifference " When the with which young men
are apt to look on thiisubject shall have,given,lilace
to experience and -Mature relleetipii—when they
shall have learned the importance of right principles.
and just modes of thinking, anti look back with gra-
titude to the examples they have had. in this place,-
-then may the. University be said to be established ;
for its establishment must ultimately depend on the
character of those educated in it, and their influence
on society. At present, whilst this beautiful edi-
fice is incomplete, and the labourS of the workmen
are only suspended, and • clamour • is excited, it re-
quires some exertion of the mind to rid us of the
influence of the present circumstances, and fully to
anticipate and appreciate the advantages to be de-
rived from this College, and not from this College
only but from others formed after its example, by
the exertions of those who, although they may not
have had the genius to conceive the plan, yet may
have the virtue to imitate it.—(Great applause.)
" There is only one more reflection which I shall
venture to express--great advantage and satisfaction
result from a combination of learned men, each active
in his own sphere, whilst all combine for the greater
object, and that one so laudable and inspiring as the
improvement of science and literature (for I deem
the right teaching of any department of science the
surest way of improving it). But, however much
men feel the advantage and necessity of such com-
binations, they seldom combine unless drawn to-
gether by the tie of some regular establishment.
" One happy effect of this is, the uninterrupted
progress of science ; for hitherto those who have
taught in our schools, have had successors to
their • places, without successors to their infor-
mation or their opinions. Too often, those who
succeed, attempt to depreciate the labours of- their
predecessors; but where the professors are united
this cannot take place. The opinion and the modes
of teaching are• appreciated and remembered when
the individual is lost, anti the course of improvement
rolls on unbroken from one age to another. In
Universities a posthumous reputation supplies the
interval after the loss' of a great man, till new men
of authority arise. In the general body the excel-
lence, whatever it may be, is perpetuated,: because
the society is permanent, and nor fluctuating with
the students.

• " This mutual aid, this common interest, these
high objects, I trust, will unite usin the most friendly
intercourse, and will be a lasting source of gratifica-
tion and advantge."
Mt. BELL then proceeded with the first of the
course of lectures which he proposes to deliver on
the subject of physiology. lie began to explain the
structure and functions of the blood-vessels in the
human frame, in which he pointed out to his hearers
the application of the laws of hydraulics to the cir-
culation of the blood. The period to 'which this
first part of his labours was necessarily limited pre-
cluded him from entering at any length upon a sub-
ject %o 'extensive. Recommending to the attention
of his pupils the facts which he had stated, he re-
minded them that there were other rules, peculiar to
the science of human life, without an accurate know-
ledge of which any conclusions from the principles
which he had laid down, merely by way of illustra-
tion, must be unsatisfactory, and might be dangerous.
He therefore concluded with an intimation that he
should in his next lecture resume the topic which he
bad opened.
At the conclusion of the lecture, the Warden,
Mr. Horner, announced that the whole of the Uni-
versity was open to the inspection of the persons
present. _ _ _

- A considerable part of the building is as yet un-
finished, but in a state rapidly approaching comple-
tion. .The Museum of Pharmacy, and the Materia
Medica, is already very forward. The dried medi-
cal plants are arranged with great ingenuity and ex-
tremely convenient for the access of students. The
Anatomical and Surgical Museum is in great for-
wardness. It contains some very rare and curious
specimens prepared with great. skill and beauty, and
is furnished with some part of a very large collec-
tion of drawings, made by Mr. Bell.
Among the many judicious arrangements which
have been made for the accommodation of pupils, is
one which will obviate some of the objections that
:have been raised against the institution. The lower
part of the building has been fitted up as a refresh-
ment room, in which the students may be supplied
at a very moderate rate with dinners, breakfasts,
and other refreshments. Any thing like an ap-
aha ads
eate: ev
ena t wiselyia furnished.avoided, but all
xs
aurryy tpli.motacish itieucel us
It is obviously inconsistent with the objects of a
newspaper to give a detailed report of the lectures,
institution. se
Tmh•hch are in
eiinterest cwoluiiresiei of dei
thalsivevrey at this
rynatu.
rally and deservedly excited has, however, induced
us to notice the commencement of the seriesond it
is probable that we may, from time to time, observe
upon such of them as appear to be of the greatest
public utility.
The audience yesterday was of the highest re-
spectability, and very numerous.

A Reverend Divine, about the period of the
late Doncaster Races, preaching to a congregation in which
he knew there would be several sporting characters, chose
for his text the following words :—" So run that ye may
obtain ;" and in the course of his sermon stated that the
" rules of the course were so clear and intelligible, that
those who ran might read."—Morning Paper.'
The terms offered to Miss SMITIION for
Covent-garden Theatre were 20/. per night for twenty
nights, and a benefit. They were declined ; but as they
as PETER
may justly be considered liberal, it is. probable that in de-
cliniHg accept them Miss SailTirsort was actuated by. a
laudable desire of obtaining a few' more months' practice
before she undergoes the ordeal of an English audience.
She has left Paris for Bordeaux, and intends to make a six
months' tour in the French provinces. Her popularity
seems to increase daily.
persisted in recommending asses'
milk as a certain cum.—The bard, tired of his importuni-
ties, at length quieted him by sending the following epi-
hpiitsNDflAre..nd,,NhVidAr,. Ifir;:soorßT:Tt„imbe,eattenir nvoi:ennt when
grain
And Doctor, do you really think

That asses'-milk I ought to drink ?
'Twonld quite remove my cough, you say,
And drive my old complaints away.
It cured yoursell-.4 grant it true ;
Eut then—Was mother's milk to you."

' It did rain to-morrow,' is growing good gram Mar ;
Vauxhall and Camp-stools bavebeen brought to the hammer;
A pony-gondola ie all I can keep,
And I use my umbrella and pattens in sleep ;
Row out of my window, wheae'er 'tis my whim ,
To visit a friend, and just Can yen swim ?' "
So'far my frientl.4' In 'short, whether in imre
or in verse, every body Riley! at the. weather.
But this is over now. The sun has come to dry
the world ; mud is turned into dust ; rivers have
retreated to their proper limits ; farmers have left
off grumbling ; and we are about to take, a vyalk,
as usual, as far as the Shaw, a pretty wood about
a mile off. But one of our companions being a
stranger to the gentle. readkr, we must do him the
honour of an introduction.

Dogs, when they are sure of having their own
way,•have sometimes ways as odd as- those of the
unfurred, unfeathered animals, who walk on'two
legs, and talk, and are called rational. Mv
beautiful white greyhound, Mayflower, for in.-
stance, is as whimsical as the finest lady in the
land. Amongst her other fancies, she has taken
a violent affection for a most hideous stray dog,
who made his appearance here about six months
ago, and contrived to pick up living in the vil-
lage, one can Hardly =tell how. Now appealing
to the charity of old Rachael Strong, the laim-
dress—a dog-lover by profession; now winning
a meal from the light-tooted and open-hearted
lasses at the Rose ; now standing on his hind-
legs, to extort by sheer beggary a scanty morsel
from some pair of 4, drowthy cronies," or solitary
drover, discussing his dinner or supper on the
alehouse-bench ; now catching a mouthful flung
to him in pure contempt by some scornful gen-
tleman of the shoulder-knot, mounted on his
throne the coach-box, whose notice he had at-
tracted by dint of ugliness; now sharing the
commons of Master Keep the shoemaker's pigs ;
now succeeding to the reversion of' the well-
gnawed bone of Master Brow the shopkeeper's
fierce house-dog ; now filching the skim-milk of
Dame Wheeler's cat :—spit at by the cat ; wor-
ried by the mastiff ; chased by the pigs ; scream-
ed at by the dame ; stormed at by the shoe-
maker ; flogged by the shopkeeper ; teased by
all the children, and scouted by all the animals
of the parish ;—but yet living-through his griefs,
and bearing them patiently, for sufferance is
the badge of all his tribe ;"—and even seeming
to find, in an occasional full meal, or a gleam of
sunshine, or a whisp of dry straw on which to
repose his sorry carcass, some comfort in his dis-
consolate condition.

ati 1:i
activitynti s
d
y(oitohfbbueotog(yr:se;y:rashet:liolondeipsi
;pnt
mailtrsisees:;:t
In this plight was he found by May, the most
high-blooded
netaporpni
and from this plight did May rescue him ;
idsehweotoarofr aristocratic
esmttteouoraruc rrinidtta:eht rilicyaiii
mis-
tress, riiiiioesmvsntiest:det
bhadaynelrhdlteiiTliaenti
protection, an the
pertinacity of her self-will ; made him sharer at'
her bed and her mess ;
and,
finally, established
him as one of the family as firmly as' herself.
Dash—for he has even won himself a name
amongst us, before he was anonymous—Dash is
a sort of a kind of a spaniel; at least there is in
his mongrel composition some sign of that beau-
tiful race. Besides his ugliness, which is of the
worst sort—that is to say, the shabbiest—lie has
a limp on one leg that gives a peculiarly one-
sided awkwardness to his gait ; but, independ-
ently of his great merit in being Mays pet, he
has other merits which serve to account for that
phenomenon—being, beyond all comparison the
most faithful, attached, and affectionate animal
that I have ever known ; and that is saying much.
He seems to think it necessary to atone for his
and
ugliness by extra goodconduct, does so
dance on his lame leg, and so wag his scrubby
tail, that it does any one who has a taste for
happiness good to look at him—so that he may
now be said to stand on his own footing. We
are all rather ashamed of him when
come in the way, and think •it necessary to explain
that he is May's pet , • but amongst ourselves, and
those who are used to
his appearance, be has
reached the point of favouritism•in •
his own per-
son. I have, in common with •
wiser women, the
feminine weakness of l •
loving whatever loves me—
and, therefore, like Dash. His master has found

aodwetrofoukl stdoime zpilaii, n wants,wo olfdi mnoenveit Ylly become a clever
This friend of mine is a person of great quickness and
talent, who, if she were not a beauty and a woman of for-
tune—that is to say, if prompted by either •of those two
powerful want of
wri-
ter.admiration—
As it is, her notes and jeux d' esprit, struck off ,r
traite de plume, havegreat point and neatness. Take the
following billet, which formed the label to a closed basket,
containing the ponderous present alluded to, lust Alichad-
Inas Day :•.
" 7'o Miss M.
, When this you see
Remember me,'
Was long a phrase in use ;
And so I send ..
To you, dear friend,
My proxy. ' What A goose r

out that Dash is a capital finder, and in spite of
his lameness, will. hunt a field or beat 'a cover
with any spaniel in -England—and, therefore, he
likes Dash. The boy, has fought a battle, in
defence of his beauty, with another boy, bigger
than himself, and beat his opponent most hand-
somely—and therefore he likes Dash ; and the
maids like him, or_ pretend to like him, because
we do—as is the, fashion of that pliant and imi-
tative class. And now Dash ,and May follow us
"every where, and are going with. us now to the
Shaw, as I said before—or rather to the cottage
by the Shaw, to bespeak ; milk and butter of our
little dairy-woman, Hannah Bint—a housewifely
occupation, to which we owe some of our plea-
santest rambles.

And now we pass the sunny, dusty village-
street—who would have thobght, a month ago,
that we should complain of sun and dust again !
—and turn the corner where the two great oaks
hang so beautifully over the clear deep pond,
mixing their cool green shadows with the bright
blue sky, and the white clouds that fit over it ;
and loiter at the wheeler's shop, always pictu-
resque, with its 'tools, and its work, and its ma-
terials, all so various in form, and so harmonious
in colour and its noisy, merry workmen, ham-
mering and singing, and making a various har-
mony also. The shop is rather empty to-day,
for its usual inmates arebusy on the green beyond
the pond—one set building a cart, another paint-
ing a waggon. And then we leave the village
quite behind, and proceed slowly up the cool,
quiet lane, between tall hedge7rows of the
darkest verdure, overshadowing banks green and
fresh as an emerald.

Not so quick as I expected, though—for they
are shooting here to-day, as Dash and I have
both discovered : he with great delight, for a
(run to him is as a ti umpet to a war-horse ; I with
no less annoyance, for I don't think that a par-
tridge itself, barring the accident of being killed,
can be more startled than I at that abominable
explosion. Dash has certainly better blood in
his veins than any one would 'guess to look at
him. He even skews some inclination to elope
into the fields, in pursuit of those noisy iniquities.
But he is an orderly person, after all, and a word
has checked him.

Ah ! here is a shriller din mingling with the
small artillery—a shriller and more continuous.
We are not yet arrived within sight of Master
Weston's cottage, snugly hidden behind a clump
of elms ; but we are in full hearing of Dame Wes-
ton's tongue, raised as usual to scolding-pitch.
The Westons are new'arrivals in our neighbour-
hood, and the first thing heard of them was a
complaint from the _wife to our magistrate of her
husband's heating her :.it was a regular charge of
assault—an information in full form. A most
piteous case did Dame Weston make of it,
softening her . voice for .the nonce into a shrill
tremulous whine, and exciting the mingled pity
and anger--pity towards herself, anger towards
her husband—of the whole female world,
pitiful and indignant as the female world
Js wont to be on such occasions. Every
woman in the parish. railed at Master
Weston ; and_ poor Master IN eston was sum-
moned to attend the bench on the ensuing
Saturday, and answer the charge ; and such was
the clamour abroad and at home, that the un-
lucky culprit, terrified at the sound of a warrant
and a constable, ran away and was not heard of
;for a fortnight.
At the end of that time he was discovered,
and brought to the bench ; and Dame Wqton
.again,told her story, and, as before, on the full
cry. She .had no witnesses, and the bruises of.
which she made complaint had disappeared,.and
there were no women present; to malse.common
cause with the sex. Still, however, the general
feeling was against Master Weston ; and it would
have gone hard with him, when he was called in,
if a most unexpected witness had not risen tip in
his favour. His wife had brought in her arms
a little girl about eighteen months old, partly
perhaps to move compassion in her favour ; for
.3 woman with a child in her arms is always an
object that excites kind feelings. The little girl
had looked shy and frightened, and had been as
quiet as a iamb during her mother's examina-
tion ; but she no sooner saw her father, from
whom she had been a fortnight separated, than
she clapped her hands,
,and laughed, and cried,
" Daddy ! daddy !" and sprang into his arms,
and hung round his neck, and covered him with
kisses—again shouting, " Daddy, come home !
daddy ! daddy !"--and finally nestled her little
bead in his- bosom, with a fulness of content-
ment, an assurance of tenderness and protection,
such as no wife-beating- tyrant ever did inspire,
or ever could inspire, since the days of King
Solomon. Our magistrates acted in the very
spirit of the Jewish monarch : they accepted the
evidence of nature, ants dismissed the complaint.,
And subsequent events have fully justified their
decision ; Mistress Weston proving. not only re-
nowned for the feminine accomplishment of
scolding: (tongue-banging, it. is called in Our
parts—a Compound word, which deserves to be
rireek), but is actually herself addicted to ad-
,
mrustermg tne conjugal discipline, the infliction
of which she was. pleased to impute to her. luck-
less hushand.
Now we cross the stile, and walk up the fields
to the Shaw. How beautifully green this pas-
antsi how finely the evening sun
ture looks !
glances between the boles of that clump of trees,
beech, and ash, and aspen ! and, sweet the
hedge-rows are with
s woodbine and wild scabious,
i •
or, as the country people call it, the g p y„rosel
Here is little Annie :Weston, the unconscious
witness, with cheeks as red as a real rose, totter-
ing to meet her father. And here
up the path
is the carroty-polled urchin, George c oper,
. and then,
turning from work, and singing
f Home ! sweet
his voice •
Home !" at the top of ,
h for
when the notes move too litl he hasturned} the
ing the air in a whistle, u
up again the
impassable corner; then taking
sivoet Home !
song and the words, " Home .
and looking as if he felt their full import,
,-
boy though he be. And so. be does ; for he IS
one of a large, an honest, a kind, and an indus-
trious family, where all goes well, and where the
poor Ploughboy is sore of finding cheerful faces
and coarse comforts—all that he has learned to
desire: 0h,.t0 be as cheaply and as thoroughly
contented 'as George Caper ! All his Ip:curies,
3 cricket-match his wants satisfied in
Ft home ! sweet home 177,
Nothing but noises to-day They are clear,
jug farmer Brookes's great bean-field, and cry-
ing the «Harvest Home!" in a chorus, before
which all other sounds—the song, the scolding,
the gunnery—fade away, and become faint
echoes. A pleasant noise is that! though, for
one's ears' sake, one makes some haste to get
away from i
it. And here, in happy time, is that
pretty wood, the Shaw, with its broad pathway,
its tangled dingles, its nuts and its honeysuckles;
—and, carrying away a fagot of those sweetest
flowers, we reach Hannah Bint's : of whom, anti
of whose doings, we shall say more another
time, M.

FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE.

FRENCH PAPERS.
(From the Gazette de France, dated Sept. 30.)

PARIS, SEPT. 29.—We have received from our
private correspondent ,at Vienna, under the date of
the 19th, the following, particulars.
Conformably to an order of the Emperor, the re-
giments which were assembled in the camp at Trais
Kirchen have received directions to separate and
return to their usual garrisons. The Count and thu
Prince Royal of Prussia are expected here.
SEPaury, SEPT. 23.—There is a report current at
Belgrade, that an important action has taken place
at Volo, in Thessaly : the Pacha of Salonichi and
the Bey of Seres commanded the troops : the result
is not yet known..
The greatest tranquillity continues to prevail in
Servia. The best proof that we can give of it is,
that the arrival of the mails from Constantinople does
not experience any delay.
JAssy, SEPT. 9.—lt is said here, and I tell you
this news as it is circulated, and without warranting
it, that the Russian Vice-Admiral Messer' has oc-
cupied Bourgas, which is about 30 leagues from
Constantinople.

FRENCH FUNDS.—PARIS, SEPT. 29.—Five per Cento,
106 f. 30c. 35c. 30r. ; Three per Cents., 741. 15c. 20c.
151. ; Bank Stock, 1,810 f.; Naples Stock, 79f. 60c.;
Royal Spanish Loan, B.of. ; Maytian Low, 6651. Exchange
on London—One Month, 251. 25e. ; Three Months, 25f.
15e.— Cours Authentique.

DAY AT ONE O'CLOCK.

South Sea Stock
Old Annuities shut
New Ditto
Ex. Bills, Xl,OOO 2d. 73 74 pm.
Ditto 500 2d. 75 pm.
Ditto Small 2d. 75 pin.
Ditto Commercial
Bank for Account
India for Account
Cons, for Acct 86141;47i1-i