The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1841-09-03 00:00:00

THE REV. HUGH WNEILE

Dublin, August 30, 1841. r
This talented apostolic, truly Christian, and uncompro-
mi,sing minister of our Scriptural and orthodox Church,
preached a most important and instructive sermon on last
sabbath, to the sons of our learned and persecuted clergy,
now located in their " second home" in Lucan, a small town
a few miles from the city of Dublin. We have reason to bless
God, that, while he has permitted popish fiends to excite their
worst, their popish malice on a Christian Ministry—that yet
Christian principle and Christian philantrophy have founded
this little Zion, where to nourish, and there to educate the
offspring of those who are now enjoying a sabbath of rest in'
the world of glory, that they may also proclaim the same
truth, disturb the same darkness, and agitate, and so purify
tnat atmosphere which is impregnated with those' errors,
against which, their fathers declamed, and in many instances
were made instrumental, either to correct, or to remove.
What a sublime effect it had, to see this reverend gentleman
ascend the pulpit: how grave, how collected, how composed
his appearance—before him were seated in decorum, and
with becoming gravity—a gravity far exceeded their youth,
those dear children. whose destiny for weal or wo, who can
contemplate ; they may be the savour of death unto death,
or the savour of life unto life, either to themselves or to
others. The preacher stood before them, and his manner
was most peculiarly striking, calculated to produce awe and
reevernce in both old and young, even without the utter-
ance of that eloquence—that heaven-inspired eloquence,
which burns through his lips, and 'which, with zephyr
appearance, plays thereon. We looked at him, we ad-
mired him. We said, there stands forth PRINCIPLE, it:
all its honesty—in all its integrity—in its unbending
sterness ; there it is, without the smallest, the most mi-
nute admixture of compromise—no looking to consequen-
ces—none of the slaver of conciliation—nothing of the smile
to delude, to decoy, or to seduce, into the paths of wayward-
. nes, of hypocrisy, or of double dealing—none of your " double
entendre." No ; his lips exhibited true principle—" their
speech was comely." His sermon being for the benefit of
the young, the orphan, and the unprotected. This text was
taken, naturally and properly, from the 2 Timothy iii. 14,
15. " But continue thou in the things which thou bast
learned, and hest been assured of; knowing of whom thou
hast learned them ; and that from a child, thou hest known
the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto
salvation through faith, which is in Christ Jesus." He
Chewed that the study of the New Testament was well calcu-
lated to direct the attention to the consideration of the Old
Testament, scriptures; that the tendency of the whole was
to lead to Him, who is the sum and substance, the very en-
cyclopaedia of revelation—the Lord Jesus Christ. In the
course of his sermon, Mr. M'Neile exhibited the folly and
the absolute nonsense of the Socinian, Arian, and Popish
heresy, by proving not only the necessity of sacrifice for the
remission of sin, but proving that ONE sacrifice was all-
sufficient—once for all, never to be repeated. The doc-
trine of sacrifice is a doctrine which his father-in-law, the
late Archbishop of Dublin, fully established in his work on
the atonement, to the overthrow of the conceited heresy of
Socinianistn—a work in which we have all wheat, to the ex-
clusion of every lie—to the exclusion of all chaff and every
Popish mixture. Oh hearing the sermon of Mr. M'Neile,
we could not but appreciate his letter to a Mr. Massie, a
person who, if we mistake not, was once upon a time a holder
forth in a dissenting meeting-house in the city of Dublin,
but who, for reasons which he can best explain, deserted that
place, commencing business in a religious way elsewhere ;
but failing, retired—not from business—but to manufacture
a little in that great manufacturing town, Manchester ; there
the better to become mischievous by notoriety—to summon
kindred spirits to deliberate about what they knew nothing—
corn and agriculture. Mr. M'Neile very properly repudiated
all connexion with that mass of dissenting agitators ;—he
repudiated the idea of the existence of Christian charity
without Christian principle ;—he repudiated that infidel
liberalism which implies that Revelation is useless, without
having the honest boldness to affirm its primary importance.
He, in fact, repudiated all connexion, all association with
Socinian and Arian intruders,—and with Popish Priests—the
whole of whom are Anti-christian in their design and in
their doctrine,—all actuated by opposition to Jesus.

THE LOVE OF COUNTRY

" He that would view Melrose aright
Must go and view it by the pale moonlight.",

'-SC OTT.

SCENE.—A Steamer from Dublin to Holyhead.
Scotchman.—He that would see my country to advantage
should approach it by the Clyde : it is a magnificent entrance
to a romantic country. Romantic highlands, cloud-cutting,
almost cloud-compelling, begin to restrain the estuary, while
you bear right down upon the savage craig of Ailsa. Then
succeeds the fortified Rock of Dumbarton, celebrated for one
of the exploits of the hero Wallace, you look at it with due
respect. But where are the Alpine mountains ?—fast retiring
in the distance, softening, softening down, till the banks of
the river take a new character, and beautiful villas and culti-
vated plains offer new beauties to the traveller's gaze. 'What
river is comparable with the Clyde! It withdraws itself into
sylvan solitudes, where the rushing waters form, over high
rocks, the most beautiful object of inanimate nature.
Irishman (with a smile).—Your enthusiasm is so high that
you have forgotten you said not long since that no river in
the world could equal the Forth.
Scotchman.—Ha, ha, I believe I did. They are both
beautiful ; and I think having gone up the Clyde the tra-
veller should go to Edinburgh, and then sail up the Forth
to Stirling ; then visit Loch Katrine, back by Loch Lomond
to where he set out from, which might then be justly called
a tour, and one J think unequalled for the time employed.

, . .
Irishman.—Now allow me to say a few words for my
country. The bay of Dublin has been celebrated. But he
that would view it aright should go from Liverpool, and if
possible pass between the Isle of Dalkey and the main land,
—that isle which yearly crowns a king, but without treason,
for he is only a king of good fellows.—The towering moun-
tains of Dublin, the picturesque sugar loaves of Wicklow,
the rich cultivation and crowding spires and domes of a great
city.

Welshman.—Stay my friends. With the modesty of con-
scious superiority I have been listening silently to your ami-
cable contest, the only contest I hope that will ever exist
among us natives of the three sister kingdoms. But now my
time is come ; I have stood so as to prevent either of you
seeing my native land an instant too soon. But now he that
would see aright, let him first see Carnarvonshire, approach-
ing it by water! Look ! (Steps aside.)

frishman.—Magnificent 1 -
Scotchtnan.—But I do not give the in Frith of Clyde

Wel simian. —That long 'range of varyinv blue outline is
the highland of Carnarvonshire : towering above all you see
the bare round shoulders of the majestic Snowdon like an
English atlas, fit to support a world—there is no approach to
England at all to be compared to this. The town of Carnar-
von is poor, but you should visit it to see the famous castle
—the birth-place of the ill-fated Edward, the first prince of
Wales. The road to Chester passes along the brow of Pen-
maen-mawr : you see the Conway far below dashing against
its base. There Edward I. passed in his career of conquest,
and directly above stood the last bard, thundering his curses
upon the king,—" Ruin seize thee, ruthless king " ! Better
if he had rolled down some of those huge stones that seem
ready to descend on the traveller's head like an avalanche!
Irishman. —We pass the famous Menai Bridge, I think,
on the way to Chester.
Welshman.—Yes. And I shall be proud that you may
see that tenth wonder. As you view it from afar, it is like a
festoon of some elegant drapery hung up among the trees,
but I shall not attempt to describe it, for no words could do
it justice, any more than the beauty of my country-women,
with their neat round hats, such as ladies ride in, and their
blooming healthy faces. You pass that singular old town
Conway, which looks at a distance like an old castle in a
cultivated park. No stray cottage outside the castillated
wa►l (a triangle in shape, which encloses the small town)
breaks the illusion, and until you drive through the gate, you
are not aware of approaching human habitation.
Irishman.—l believe we must admire reciprocally. Each
country has its beauties, and each surpasses both the others
in some points.

Scotchman.—l believe, however, I can nearly match your
famous bridge. In Lanarkshire, at the bottom of a deep
ravine, runs a mountain stream, the Moose. The edge of
this ravine are united by a beautiful bridge, the centre pillar
of which is above 200 feet in height, the most picturesque
thing at a distance 1 have ever seen. The stream itself is re-
markable for having sheltered Wallace in one of its caves,
and also for being the scene of a most remarkable event, re-
lated by Cunningham in one of his beautiful tales.
Irishrnan.—What was the story ? " _

Scotchtnan.—A scattered few of the persecuted cove-
nanters had assembled for worship in the deep dark glen,
when in the midst, they were interrupted by the falling of a
pebble from the bank above, the concerted warning that a
band of their ferocious enemies were approaching. They
had scarcely taken refuge iu the hidden cave, when the
hunters of men appeared rushing up the glen, thirsting for
their blood. But such was the providence of God, that at
that moment a torrent burst from the hills, and they saw from
their hiding places their appalled persecutors overcome by
the death themselves had been preserved from, for escape
was hopeless, the banks of the river were above them like
walls of full 200 feet, and the rushing waters pent up in a
few feet of width ; they perished to a man.
Irishman.—lt was au awful event! _

- ... _ ..
Welshman.—Awful indeed. And you have said a good
deal in favour of your bridge : has our friend from Ireland no
wonder of art to boast of.

Irishman.—Scarcely a wonder of human hands, unless you
admit of my going back to the " round towers of other
days ;" but many of superhuman agency. His black majesty
has been busy in all parts of my country ; and the famous
Causeway of the county Antrim, in the midst of the most
splendid scenery, may challenge comparison with any part of
the world. But I see we approach the land, let us see what our
friend has described, and then onward to the city, the darling
of commerce (Liverpool of course), whose merchants arc
princes of the earth, or would be, if they could think with
less respect of the glittering Mammon they have amassed.

SINGULAR.—Miss Clifton lost recently, while bathing, a
diamond ring, worth 1,000 dollars, given to her by the 'Mar-
quis of Waterford. Next day a shark, a sort of a marine
Bill Wiley, called upon her, and returned the ring for eight
per cent. reward.—American paper.
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S UMBRELLA.—A fancy
fair was held last week at Cross-deep, between Twickenham
and Teddington, by some of the ladies resident in that neigh
bourhood. The Duke of Wellington having been present,
had gone away, leaving his umbrella behind him, whereupon
Lady P— immediately said, " Who will give 20 guineas for
the duke's umbrella ?" In one moment a purchaser was
found, and on his grace's return, the fact was communicated
to him, when he good-naturedly remarked, " I'll soon sup-
ply you with umbrellas if you can sell them so much to the
advantage of the charity."

The ladies of Doncaster have presented Lord Morpeth with
a splendid diamond ring.
On Tuesday morning the family of Mr. Pearman, music-
printer, of No. 13, Castle-street East, Oxford-street, Lon-
don, was thrown into the greatest state of alarm by hearing
a report of fire-arms, apparently proceeding from the lower
part of the house. The servant and family of Mr. Pearmau
were at the time up stairs, and on some of them running into
the kitchen to ascertain the cause of the report, they disco-
vered the body of Mr. James Pearman, the son of Mr. Pear-
man, lying on the floor, the blood flowing from a frightful
wound in his head, and a pistol lying by his side. Medical
aid promptly attended, but shortly after he ceased to exist.
The deceased, who is twenty-six years of age, was residing
with his parents, and had been superintending his father's
business in the workshop shortly before the melancholy oc-
currence. He was on the eve of marriage with a young lady
of highly-respectable connections ; but it is stated that, in
consequence of some slight quarrel with her a short time ago,
he had become within the last few days exceedingly low and
desponding.
•

At Paris, a young woman, passing over the Pont d'Aus-
terlitz, instead of the sous she ought to have paid, deposited,
with an air of absence of mind, her cambric pocket-hand.
kerchief at the money-takers' seat and walked on. The
invalid on guard walked after her with it, and mentioning
her mistake, she took a sous from her pocket and received
back her handkerchief. The man was about to return to his
seat, but toeflecting that she might have some sinister inten-
tions, changed his mind, followed her, arid was just coming
up to her, when she stopped, raised her hands and eyes to
heaven, and sprang over the parapet into the river. He im-
mediately gave an alarm, and some men in a boat succeeded
in bringing her to shore before life was extinct; but the
shock she had received was so great that she died in ball so
hour. Her body was taken to the Morgue, where it was r:
cognised as that of a young milliner, who bad been deserted
by her seducer.