The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1839-03-22 00:00:00

PROTESTANT INSECURITY IN IRELAND.

(From the Dublin Evening Packet.)
" NEITHER PROTESTANT LIFE NOR PROTESTANT PRO-
PERTY ARE SECURE IN THIS COUNTY."—SIigo Journal.
These words are reported by the paper just quoted as hav-
ing been used by a Whig (acting) judge in the Record Court
of Sligo, on Wednesday last, while referring to the claim of
a Protestant, named Lilly, for the malicious burning of his
dwelling-house. This is surely an extraordinary declaration,
and, what is scarcely less extraordinary, though coining from
an expectant convert to the doctrines of Whiggery, it is per-
fectly true. Indeed,- the learned functionary might have
gone a little further, 'and, instead of " this county," have
fairly said this country. Not a single. week now Passes over
our heads in Ireland, scarcely a single day, without bringing
to light some practical development of 'a dark
.conspiracy
against the lives Of if4"PrOtestant inhabitants. ,Let the reader
only turn to the account of a murderous attack upon the Rev.
Mr. Beresford (copied from the Leinster Express), which
appears in our columns this evening.
clergyman of the name whose life has been attempted in Ire-
land during the last nine months. Just Heayeß,lyilie.,se is all
this to end ! Better that the Protestant clergy pf.4e-eountry
were at once told to submit to decimation thitu .to,be thus
handed over to the tender mercy of a capricious tbongh un-
relenting tyranny. In the one case they might-hare been
able to make some disposition of their worldly. properties
(such of them as have any) and prepare, for, eternity. As
matters now proceed, even that consolation is denied them.
They are now sentenced to death without notice, and exe-
cuted without the slightest chance of reprieve.

Ramla, an ancient town of Palestine, now in ruins, says
Mr. Thompson, a missionary, who was there in May, 1834,
has, at no very remote period, been much larger than at pre-
sent. The number of inhabitants is perhaps six thousand,
mostly Mussulmans and Greek Christians ; hut what is ex-
traordinary is the fact that at least one half the population is
blind, either in one or both eyes, and many of the inhabitants
have such weak eyes that they keep them half closed. Ramla
is situated in the centre of a vast plain in the valley of Sharon ;
and it is probable that the continual reflection of the 'sun's
rays from the white sand is the cause of this universal ca-
lamity.

. .
RELIGION A POLITICAL POWER.—But let men differ as
much and as long as they will in matters of theory, matters
of fact are not to be questioned. Religion is a great political
power. Look which way, and where we will, into the past
or the present, in Christian or Pagan lands, in monarchies
or republics, in Europe or America we find it so. And we
shall yet have occasion to see that the very jealousies of the
Americans, and their attempts to separate religion from the
state, in the manner thereof, have only given it a more inde-
pendent position, and endowed it with higher and more un-
controllable political poWers.—A Voice from America to
England. •
TWELVE YEARS !—How many events have occurred du-
ring:that lOng interval! how many changes have taken place !
The whole aspect of things is altered. The child has, sprung
into a youth ; the youth has become a man ; the new has al-
ready begun to feel the advances of age. Beautyhas bloomed
and faded. Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded,
died. The fashions of the day have become antiquatedt'i New
customs have prevailed over the old. Parties!, politice., and
popular opinions have changed. The crown..*:passed,from
the brow of one monarch to that of anoti*,::„ Habits and
tastes are no longer the sane. We ourselveieN Scarcely the
same we were twelve years ago.—Bentley's'Ansefilaity,
A NIGHT CAP.—" People may say what-they likeP ob-
served Mrs. Nickleby, " but there is agreat deal ofebinfort
in a night cap, as I'm sure you would confeSa,,NiehOlks, my
dear, if you would only have strings to •...yourt:t, ttati,sVear it
like a Christian, instead of sticking it upcia the. veryit'op of
your head, like a blue coat boy ;' you needn't think-Wan un-
manly or quizzical thing to be particular ibouryOuVisight
cap, for I have often heard your poor dear papa inidAlle Rev.
Mr. what's his name, who used to read prayers-hi that old
church with the curious .little steeple thattheiVeither,cock
was blown off the night before yob werebarn,-=I have often
heard him say that the young men at,66ll6o'lifanieountionly
particular about their night capi, inid,,tlitit'illaVoit night
caps are, muite celebrated for their ,sh-etigtli?iii'd tottdOss ; so
much so, indeed, that the ybuhg theirteVer di'eain"Of going
to bed without and helietle WS' hdMitted on all hands
that they know what's good, and don't coddle themselves.—
_Nicholas Nickleby. • • • • •
:. • ~
PORTSMOUTH, MARCH 16.77 LAUNCH of 14;Y$-OF
BATTLE-SHIP.—The Int Pas, pierced' for 78 guns, on the
construction of Sir Robert Seppingsovas launched yesterday
morning, and, notwithstanding:the nnfisvourable state of the
weather, the crowd of Persons:to witness the sight wasenor-
mous, it being known for sonic time past that this noble ship
was to be placed in her native Clenient, Thousands of per-
sous collected at the dock yard gate at an early hour, which
being opened for the public, there was apparently no end to
khe'rush of spectators anxious to get a sight, and devising the
:•beSt means to obtain the most advantageous post. Much
credit is (hie to the officers of the dock yard.for the admirable
and cpmfortable arrangement of seats. Precisely at half-past
• eleveantshe departed from the stocks, her abode of, sixteen
,years idst 'loud and deafening cheers. This splendid ship
is totic,bailt, on the model of the " Christian the Vllth. ; '
hexidiusensions are—,extreine breadth, 51 ft. 2in, ; length on
lowePtieekt
JBB ft; 4 in. ; length of keel, 155 ft. 4 in. ;' ton-
nage .(new) :2068. When coppered, (being immediately taken
intu,doelc.faithat purpose,) she will, we regret to say, be
placed in ordinaryNOaccident whatever occurred. Amongst
the ;numerous •visitors we observed Captain Sir William
Symonds, R.N., the present Surveyor of the Navy.
MAIL CUARDs.—We would fain impress upon the Post-
office authorities the propriety of placing all mail guards upon
the same footing. Such a plan was at one time fixed upon,
and why it was withdrawn, or is still kept in abeyance, the
public have yet to learn. To salary some guards, and leave
others dependent upon the penny fee, partakes morefef a
huckstering than a business-like system, and the sooner the
anomaly is done away with the better. From Carlisle to
London, by Boroughbridge, the mail guards are salaried ac-
cording to length of service. This is strange, and apparently
capricious, for surely it cannot be seriously alleged that the
favoured work a whit hardor than the unfavoured class.
Than the mail guards of England, as well as Scotland,-We
knot; not a more deserving class of men, nor has her Ma-
jesty the Queen better or more useful subjects. It is through
their instrumentality that her commands find their way to
the proper channels ; and the press, to which they aceas
wings, owes them in common with the numbers they proteet,
cheer, and even typographically instruct; a debt of gratitude.
Like sailors, they are constantly exposed .to all kinds 'of
weather, must be as punettial,m. their motions as theclock
itself, and ready to start at a minute's warning, without re-
ference to the state of the roads or the inclemency of the sky.
In winter they frequently encounter toils:, and dangers -Mita'
and are campaigners-frequently
to those of the battle field,
for weeks togethers, in, the most emphatic sense of the word.
Partial change is worse in some things than no changeat-till,
and so it has fared in the present instance. Persons•Whopy
no fees on one line of road are apt 'to wonder why a gratuity
should be expected on another, an anomaly which renders
necessary explanations, if not altercations, exceedingly an-
noying and hurtful to an honourable mind. For these men
we plead, and the dignity of the service; and the ends of
justice demand that our pleading should not be in vain.--
Lancaster Gazette,

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Vottrp.

TIME AND ETERNITY.

Where are the hours of childhood,—
Of youth's bright sunny day,—
The fairy promises of hope ?
All, all are fled away !
'Twas but a cloud whose brightness
The sun had tinged with gold ;
'Tis past—'tis bright to others, still
Here all is dark and cold.
Where are the joys of manhood,
Of fame's bewitching voice.
The sunny eye, the smile of love,
That bade the heart rejoice?
Where is ambition's giddy dance ?
Where pleasure's sparkling bowl ?
Fled, faded, false, or vainly sought
To satisfy the soul.
And is this life then merely
On Time's bright page a blot ?
The name a stain, soon, soon eras'd
And Non to be forgot?
No ! though my fame and fortune
Here find their living tomb,
One radient smile of light from heav'n
Shall dissipate the gloom.
What though time's fleeting records
Be silent, if for me
The Book of Life my name contain,
Throughout Eternity ?
Where all that's truly blissful
As time rolls on, ere yet
We can but look on it as past,
We only can regret.
Shall join at once the rapture,
Of that unending day,
When earth and all its vanities
Are gone and fled away.
The innocence of childhood,
A never fading youth,
An angel mind to contemplate
The mighty Book of Truth,
A crown of glory, white robes,
Wash'd in a Saviour's blood;
And, highest of all heavenly joys,
The presence of my God.

J. H. M.

A LONELY THOUGHT.

When moonlight trembles on the deep,
And winds have sigh'd themselves to sleep,
When all is solemn stillness, save
The eternal plashing of the wave,
As softly o'er the mournful breast
Its cadence lulls to placid rest
The fret, the grief, and all that we
Endure from life's perplexity ;
Like sacred oil that heals in part
The eternal ulcer of the heart,
Or mild affections tears that lave
Some treasured sleeper of the grave ;
Oh ! then, from moments such, we steal
The heaven the soul may only feel,
The long, half-unremembered scene
Of what we are, and what have been,
The sadly sweet, endearing past,
The light of other days—the last—
Worth all the rest of life !—that we
Left buried in our infancy :
To mourn the ills existence hath,
The faded flowers upon its path,
And shed the tear that pride hath borne,
Dried up in worldly care and scorn ;
Oh ! then, to mingle with the sky,
The waves, the stars, the.orbs on high,
The essence of that life, which given
In virgin purity from heaven,
Deflower'd, alas ! as o'er its birth
Had swept the tainted blast of earth ;
To feel for one sweet moment there,
The truth, unchanged, of what we are,
To bless it, and to hear the word—
The
mild response of nature's God—
That o'er the half-repentant soul
Would harmonise with praise the whole,
And draw from its polluted stain
The heart to goodness back again,
And rivet its affections there
To things so undefiled and fair,
Which then we feel whilst yet we live
What Heaven hath given and still will give.
Manchester, 1839. G. W.