Star.
London, England, 1825-11-26 00:00:00

DEVOTION.

Oft bath my soul been rapt by visions bright,
Glowing and glorious as an Angel's dream,
Raubly, but richer than celestial light
Which mantles with magnificence supreme.
The chaste-eyed harbinger of ancient night,
When warmly calm like pure seraphio themes,
AU hued effulgence o'er creatiln beams!
But, oh ! surpassing, spiritually sweet,
Is the devotion of a toe, ly Saint,
Such as I saw—in whom, commingling, meet
Charms which e'en Raphael might despair to paint. •
Meekly sbe knelt, formality's deceit
Ruled not her bumble attitude of prayer—
'Twat Beauty worshippinit her Matta there!
She look'd like F.•ith, personified to pray,
Havitig invisibility in view,
• While tears extatic glitter'd in the ray,
Which round the room a sacred lustre threw
From the deep glory of incipient day,
Like smiles benignant of delightful Heaven,
To whom impassioted prayers and praise were giin!
In silent sanctity the charmed air
Flusl.'d up its breathing, fearing to offend,
As if it winoler'd that a form so fair,
And seeming sinless, should s» lowly bend,—
Not to a crucifix of sculptur'd Care—
The presence of OMNIPOTINCI she felt,
And to his manifested mercy knelt !
And all was stillness—as profound as deatb,
Eacept that eager lips appeared tq part,
Though silv'ry voice awoke not, for her breath
Was but the wordless incense of her heart:
In faint vibrations, for a little space,
Her auburn hair bctray'd it passing through,
And then hung motionless before her face,
For to her Goo both breath and spirit Sew.
Oh! that my spirit thus may wing its Bight,
And thus be blended with eternal light!
Plymouth.

G. DI.

CONSISTORY COURT, NOVEMBER 25.

THE MOST NOBLE THE MARQUIS OF WESTSIEAIH V. THE
MARCHIONESS OF WESTMEATH.

Our readers will remember that this was originally a
suit for restitution of conjugal tights, promoted by
Lord Wes.meath against hia Lady ; to which she re-
plied, by pleading in bar—first, vat ious acts of cruelty;
and in a second alleg .Lion, adultery, committed by his
Lordship. The substance of these pleas we have already
given in our paper of the 17th instant.
To-day, tl e reading of the evdence was prcceedei
with ; but as some of the witneses originally vouched
to prove particular connectioos of an adulterous att-
ract:l. against Lord Westmeath, are known to have been
convicted at the Dublin Assizes of perjury, we are fear-
ful, at present, that we might unintentionally mistake
matters, it we attempted to glean the charges, thus
shaken, from thine that are not so impeached. L:tters,
howevar, from L•ncl Westmeath to Lady Westmeath
were read by Counsel, ptobably on account of the ac-
kuowledgrcents they seem to contain of his having ill-
treated the Marchioness, and we subjoin a few extracts
from then.. The numbers refer to the numbers of the
originals brought in as exhibits.
Exhibit No. 2.
• (Letter, dated the Silt of October, 1817.)
" AU I dare hope fur, and what I only value In the world is,
your regard, that the person who bad the heart to be the must dis.
interested being on earth to me, whose soul was given over to be
the loving friend of wretched, wretched me, should not !ling me
from her mind. I confess to you, Emily, that when I look back
on the principal part of my conduct, that it was that of a person
totally unworthy of such a friend, and that I have nut acted as if I
had the estimation I say 1 have for you ; nay, I think you cannot
bring yourself to believe me, but just imay;ine that there might be
such a person as one who eve ecotone fur having drawn a
virtuous and disintereste44king like yottaelf, to change her natural
character of goodness, and to retent ungrateful usage in a way pro-
pottioned to her great disappointment in a person she hazarded all
for. I feel I have driven you to change your character, and that
by forfeiting your esteem, by all sorts of appearances of ingratitude,
I have made it difficult, if not impossible, for you to feel fur me
as you would have done, bad I returned your ditiuterested affec-
tion as I ought; I feel even as it' I ought to pay you atonement
for the usage 1 have forced you to give me in your own wrong.—
If I should appear to give myself the lie, by saying how that I
loved you, yet let me say, at least, that 1 know you can never have
forfeited your own esteem. Indeed, Emily, my only hope now is
to have same of your regard, by the course of toy life to thew you
I really am full of remorse to have made you as you are, my great
and true friend, but under your contempt and disregard 1 cannot
live. I have, miserable lust man too late the belief, that the
money those devils were supplied with, was only fuel wherewith
to torment me and mine ho rafter, kJ that is, thank heaven, at au
end, and I trust that you will know and believe it. Poor little
Rosa, her mother deserves to have bail a husband of whom she
could have spoken to her as I fear you can never do of me ; but it is
bad-for her, pour little thing, that the best she can know of her
UnhaPpy father is not to have known hint at all. May Gob
bless you, and comfort you, for the blast I have made of your
happiness."
Na 3.—Extract of a Letter, dated the Bth of October, 1817.
" I feel Too strongly, I never can restore the happy state of
mind under which you chose me for an object, and the best I can
wish is, that the unhappy cause of all this, and the misery he has
occasioned, may be soon removed, when he has deserved the sincere
forgiveness of a heart, he was, after aU, so unworthy to have at-
tached to him."

No. 4.—Letter, dated October 13, 1817.
" Indeed, my dearest Emily, I am distracted; I am too mise-
rable a wretch to live long, but before I die, I hope to obtain your
entire forgiveness that I never engaged your truly disinterested at-
tachment, by false appearances, as I know you fed I did, or you
sever could say it; as to my oath, broken, as you say it is, I ac-
knowledge actually it is, and, as I told, I feel too bitterly having
compelled you, my dearest and best friend, you angel. who devoted
yourself to me, to think so ill of me as you do, to loathe me as you
Jo; to lave lung in my state is intolerable, and indeed you deserved
everything the very reverse from me. Ido still cling to the hope,
however, that when I am gone, you will try to forget your wrongs
front me, and to forgive them Lure; L have not now an object on
yard: ; and only wish and pray to die when I have secured my im-
poverished estate, in the way you wished it, to little Rosa, your
flesh and blood. I could nut put myself to the world again, and
lam sure Gun will in his mercy hear nay prayer, to take me away
when 1 have done myself this much justice in your eyes. I have
gone through nay repentance, but bitterly, bitterly as I have suf-
fered, I should have the sante to do the very last if I thought you
should have to shudder at the recollection of out when I was dead;
do not always, my affectionate friend, leave me to think you bate me.
—I chat( never be at rest until that settlement is executed, and: I
trust our good friend Sheldon will be on the spot early in Novem-
ber to effect it fur me. I will now, however, struggle to suppress
the grief and misery which is the fowl I like now, out of duty to
you and Russ, out of atonement to you, that I may do all I can do;
I shall then be at ease I feel my life *oche burden, that no power
could Wing me to any exertion for anything the world contains,
unless as a part of this only object which sustains me; as to being
regretted by you, I shall not deserve it. Rusa will, I may say, not
have know,, me, my mother must sues follow me, I hope she may
Wet. more too, that she may be happier hereafter, and I hope you
w id forgive her, for she certainly acted must unjustifiably by you,
nmi therefore by me. Pray be kind enough to send the bill for
acceptance as soon as you can, that it may be the sootier due, it is
very paltry; but I never stir, nor look, nor think, that my soul is
not un the rack, to think that you have been brought into misery
and distress, as a final stroke to my selfishness. Oh, pardon, and
forgive me. Emily; what a comfort it would he to my very great
wretchedness that I was dear to you in any degree."
No. S.—Letter, dated October 16, 1817. _ _

" Let pity for my misfortunes induce you to relent, Emily, if I
was not a worthy object for your compassion, and pardon for much
brutality I have *hewn you in individual Instances; I probably 4
should not have the grace to ask it, and believe me ha this, for I
most solemnly mum you of it upon my hopes of any welfare in
this world, and my salvation in the nut, that however disinheriting
Rowe, and owning you out of the house, as it war threatened, nay
coupled, as I .sruly see it masthave been in your mind, with ap-
pearances itripropet for-conskkration for other persons.thln you ;—I

'say, believe on the great oath, when t say that they were coinci-
dences of chance, and produced by misfortunes to undo and ruin
me, perhaps the punishment intended by PROVII2II24CII against me.
for the wickedness of that connection, so true it it that there must
be retribution upon guilt."
No. 6.—Letter, dated 19th October, 1817.
" Speak to little Rosa for me : my love I know she has; I
should never be easy, even at my death, if you were left to say or
could think, ostforsi Is son cater, be was wrong, ungrateful, and
wilfully unjust to me, in return tor a constant heart, a true and
ardent feeling for his interest, proved under trials and privations of
nu common sort, he neglected me while Rosa was coming into the
wand; and proved finally that it was not in his nature to appre-
ciate me, even in his moments of refection, by sacrificing me and
mine for the sake of those who insulted me, because I was his wife,
though I had always deserved the reverse, even from them !' I
know villa your feelings would be towards me, and ought to be ;
but for Gods sake let it not be so, and believe me, my deare.t
Emily, my heart is worthy of your forgiveness, though 1 have
wounded your's deeply, pray forgive me, and let me know you do;
lam heartily, deeply sorry, for any uneasiness I ever gave you. I
ant your most devoted while I breathe."
No. 7.—Dublin, Tuesday Morning.
MT MOOT VALITItO YAMS EXILY.—My dearest Emily, it is with
difficulty I can avoid gettinginto the packet, instead of going down,
that 1 might at once assuage the grief I know your true heart really
feels respecting poor little Rosa, and her future prospects; I really
would do so, only that I know it would provoke you for me to leave
anything undone I could do. Thank Gun, etnily, 1 did not commit
a last act of brutality and madness by taking her away from you,
who suffaed twice w hat most mothers suffer, all through mind as
welt as body. 0 Horny ! will you, will you forgive me? Will you
—pray, pray do—tell me you are satisfied ? It is my intention to do
for her what her mother's heart to me calls for and deserves; tell me
you do nut doubt it. Indeed, lam crumbling fast, and only wish
to live for that. Don't say you wish her dead ; she will be a com-
fort to you, though I never was, but the reverse ; pray tell me this.
for lam very, very wretched. Tell me you do not bate me, Emily.
Do support me until I can, for I really do think that in the stare I
have been for a month past, I shall not bold it out,
" In any case I send you (although by the post) Sheldon's stir.
render of the article I signed, that you may tear it. It is so far a
comfort to me I happen to have it among my papers, and that you
will really believe I am anxious to comfort your true heart as far as
I can, on a point that evidently afflicts you, and leaves a sting even
on poor Rosa's existence towards you."
No. B.—Letter, dated Foxwood, October 26,1817.
" I am sure, my dearest Emily, my dear little soul, you will not
expect me to describe my feelings at your last letter; I certainly
trusted in PIIOVIDINCZ, and was pleased with myself, that I
had done, upon a natural impulse, what I rightly judged was
due to you ; but after your feeling had been so wounded
confess I did not expect so great a blessing; I cannot be too
thankiul, for, indeed, your inestimable kindness has raised me
front a state such as I cannot tell you. I hope I shall nevi rbe un-
grateful to you for it; it is, my dearest Emily, my fervent pur-
pose never to be so, for if anything could prevent bad conduct in
a man towards his wife, it is the awful situation in which I have
been placed. I anxiously looked for your forgiveness on every
point that I had offended you, but still my existence would have
been a burden. I shall make no professions, henceforwvud f must
be judged of by what I do ; but indeed, indeed, I do on my part for-
give anything I ever had to complain of ; I well know 1 brought
everything on myself by a bad outset : I changed you ; this happy
state of things has come so unexpectedly upon me, that I can
scarcely believe it; but indeed you are dearer to me than ever, and
it is a real blessing that this reconciliation is founded upon the
belief that I do cherish your flesh and blood, as I am bound by
every tie to do. I will nut pursue this further now, the subject,
when I reflect on the pains I must have seemed to take, to undo
myself with Itosa's mother, makes me always ill, and from here the
post must go so early, that I cannot bear to lose a day in expressing
my gratitude to you. I shall be anxious to make arrangements
such as you must naturally desire to secure yourself in case of any
unfortunate recurrence. Ido not like to mention that, but it I's
necessary for you it should be mentioned, and that your mind
s'iould be quite at ease on so important a point."
The evidence was not read through when the Court prepared to
rise.

SIR JOHN WINNINGTON.

Dr. LEE addressed the Court at the instant of its
rising ; and had proceeded to inform the Judge that he
had received a letter, and a Proctor another, horn
this individual, claiming to be allowed to appear in the
cause of 44 Winnington and IVinnington," depending in
this Court, in forma pauperis ; when
Sir CHRISTOPHER ROBINSON protested that he had a
great objection to bearing applications of this nature
horn any but the regular officers of the Court.
D:. LEE sat down ; and the Judge quitted the Com t.

IMPROVEMENTS IN THE UNITED STATE.

A grand canal, upwards of five hundred miles in
length, was projected in 1808, to unite the great
Northern and Western Lakes (those Mediterraneans of
the new world) with the waters 4.f the A 'antic. The
idea was treated with contempt as the dream of a vi-
sionary or a madman. This vast work is now coot-
pleted! On the 26th of October, at ten in the mot n-
ing, the first boat from Lake Erie entered the canal.
Immediateiy a cannon was fire.! at Buffalo on the L tke.
,Other cannon were placed within hearing of each other
to repeat the salute all the way to New York, and so
on to Sandy H"ok, and then again the tire was re-
turned back to Buffalo, a distance in the whole of one
thousand and eighty-eight miles !
It was expected that the boat would reach New
York, on the 4th of November, wh, re preparations
were made for a grand Aquatic Festival; in which all
the Public Authoritiei of that City and State, the
soci ties, citizens, military and naval persons, were to
take part. The day would, d ntbtless, be a day of tii-
umpli—of proud and well earned triumph, in the ap-
plause of which Britain herself may justly and cor-
dially join. Far from us be the petty spirit of na.ional
envy ; especially towards a nti ion of our ou n blood,
and kindred, and language ! T ..e extension of A meri.
can controet ce, and the developeran-nt of American re-
sour.:es, present a field fu: the ultimate benefit of our-
selves, close as our connection is and ever must be with
the people of the Ur ited States.
The rapid increase of inhabitants in the city of New
I York is another striking circumstance. Its population
has been more than quintupled within the last thirty
five years, and it triw contains probably 170,000 per-
son?, the numbers in the whole State being a million
and a half.

Looking now to a district which has but recently
been incorporated with the Union, we shall see, though
on a smaller scale, the same restless activity in pushing
forward the tide of civilization. An article, dated Sep-
tember 10, from Talahassee, in Florida, says it was
in the month of April, 1824, that the first waggon was
seen wi ding its devious way through that part of the
wilds of Florida which now constitutes the Middle
Judicial Distlic. The weary party, who consisted of
two men (white:), two women, two children, and one
mulatto man, arrived in the morning of the 9th of that
month, at a bold eminence, w here they selected their
camping ground, and pitched their tent. In the after-
noon our sylvan party commenced building, and in two
days had constructed the first house ever seen in Talla-
h4stee. That evening arrived Judge Robinson and Squire
M•Call, with lahnrers to erect a buildilg for a Legis•
lathe Ccuncill At the date of the alnmementioned
article, only seventeen months after the first encamp-
ment, Talahassee was a town, containing My houses,
,one Chinch, one school, two very commodious hotels,
seven stores, a printing-office, three brick-yards," &c.
—These we think are sufficiently striking proofs of
the active and enterprising spirit that is at work in thel
United States. Atibe same time it must not be over-
looked, that the moral progress of the pc ople of America

is much less gratifying. Climes are frequent,and some of
enormity. Among our extracts, culled from the Papers
of a very few days, are found several murders—the
police appeals to be in general lax.

POLICE INTELLIGENCE.

MANSION-HOUSE.

A little boy, named llilne, was brought before Alderman LUCAS,
under rather remarkable circumstances.

One of the officags, in going his rounds the night before, saw him
on London Bridge', very busily engaged in soliciting the passengers
to give him, not money, but employment. The officer, perceiving
that he had a box in his possession. asked him what it contained
to which he replied, that he had a change of clothes, and a Bible
abd a Testament, which be had been presented with by a pious
Lady with whom he resided. Ile did think, but he could nut
exactly say, whether the Lady was his mother or nut. He had, he
said, a letter in his box with which he had been sent by his mistress,
who found it difficult to support him, to a Gentlematt near Lon-
don. Ile did not know whether that Gentleman WAS his f %thin. or
not—but he supposed not; whether this Gentleman, however, was
or was not his parent, there was nothing done fur him, although
the Lady sent the Gentleman the ►um of 51, with him, as a binding
fee.—The letter which the poor boy produced was literally as
follows : " Sturniinster Marshall, October 28, 1825.

Sart—l take my pro in hand to try to write a few loyns to
you, hoping it will And you well, as through mercy it leaves us, and
it is a great mercy indeed that we are so ; and as you did not send
for the Boy we are obliged to give him up ; you know our circum-
stance is very low, and you take it amiss I have done for him a
though he bad Hen my own child we have nothing to lay to
our charge, as we have done everything we could tor you and
him. 1 hope he will be a good buy, and do his duty to you, and
likewise you to hint, for it is tit in the word of Goo Mimes 's be
kind to your servants. I hope you see the vanity of this world,
and try to seek a country out of sight. Pray let me beg of you
to se:k the Lose, for In him we ate safe, and nowhere else. I
hope if ever I have acted a mother's part with you in this world,
that 1 could do a mother's part for your soul's salvation. I
hops you will not take what I have sed amiss, as I have done it
with a simple ban, hoping it will be of some good to you. Pray
to Gun with all your hart, and I am sure he will here you and for-
givo you all your sun, let then; have been so great as ever they may,
they are not to great for him to subdue if they are Red as Carlot,
the blood of Christ can wash them white as snow. 0 that-I heard
you are a changed Carictur, and as I did not wish to go against you
before an earthly magistrate, I hope I shall not apear against you
before the King of heaven in another world. Pray torgive me fur
being so bold. 1 can't say no more. Farewell til we meet in arm-
ther, and I hope a better world."
Alderman LOCAs asked the boy who wrote the letter ? Ile re-
plied, that his mistress who had given to him the Ilible and Testa-
ment wrote it. Ile added, that upon being turned out of the
house of the Gentleman to whom he had been recommended
he came up to London with his property, and not being acquainted
with anybody, he stood upon the bridge, and asked those who
looked kinder than others fur eniployment.
The Alderman asked him whether he would go to sea?
He said he should much rather abide in this country, and that he
was ready to turn his band to anything on land.
The Alderman ordered that care should he taken of him, and
that the trutu of his statement should be inquired intr.