The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-01-27 00:00:00

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

the most pions and holy men of the day before he irre-
vocably committed himself to a measure fraught with
such evident consequences of injury to the religion of the
country. It will be fresh in our readers recollection,
that we exposed the progress of that measure step by step,
and showed the impolicy, no less than the folly, of at-
tempting to allay the restless agitation, and the increas-
ing ferment of one unhappy portion of the British
dominions at the expense of the remainder. But, alike
blind to remonstrance on the one hand, and to the con-
sequence that more would be demanded, where so much
had unnecessarily been conceded on the other, the mea-
sure passed into law, and a session, the most momentous
that has been seen since the years 1832, 1833, and 1834.
ended with the triumph of the individual over the mani-
fest feeling and conviction of the injury he had done to
the Church and to the people.
It pleased providence, in his wisdom, during the earlier
part of the recess, to visit the land with tempestuous
weather, which impeded the gathering in of the harvest,
and did much damage to one article, of necessary con-
sumption, of the food of the poor. A clamour had been
for several years past excited against the protection the
Legislature had afforded to the asricultural interests; and
a tew discontented individuals bad raised a cry against
' what they termed monopoly and class legislation. Sir
R. Peel had resisted their demand for removal of protec-
tion, and had apparently devised a safe means of meeting
any exigencies which an unpropitious season might occa-
sion. The present winter, however, from the partial
failure of the crops, and from the known continental
scarcity, was anticipated as about to be one of extreme
suffering to the poorer classes, and therefore offered too
good an opportunity to the clamorous for attempting to
sweep away the existing corn-laws, and to secure their
cherished theory of introducing free trade. Hitherto Sir
R. Peel had seemed indifferent to the clamour ; perhaps
some feelings moved him for the moment to withstand the
.pressure made against agriculture by restless agitation,
since he could notbut rememberthe obligation be was under
to the counties of England for the majority they had
placed at his command. But distinctive principles have
again been given up : theories but a few hours since de-
nounced as visionary and destructive have been yielded
to ; and the result has been a collision between the pre-
mier and several members of his Cabinet so severe and
decisive, that he and they tendered their resignation of
office, and retired from the helm of government. The
last month has been pregnant with eventful circumstances
connected with this suject. The ministry, disunited
upon this matter, has broken up; Lord John Russell has
attempted to form an administration, and has failed.
Sir Robert Peel has again resumed the reins of office, with
a ministry but slightly modified, and, at the moment of
our going to press, the future proceedings, which the
country has to anticipate, are unknown, and but prob-
lematical. .• _ _

We can only, however, draw sup positions from former
occurrences, and speculate upon future probabilities from
events which have preceded them. No declaration has,
it is true, yet gone forth what the intentions of the new
Ministry may be ; but if we are to judge upon such
grounds what is to be anticipated, we candidly confess
that we expect no safe or good result to any interest from
the return of Sir Robert Peel to office. He has annihi-
lated every prospect that distinctive principles will now be
carried out by himself and his partizans, by his conces-
cessions and by his violation of former expectations that
he would govern the country upon the broad and honour-
able basis of Protestant truth and Christian precept.
We have nothing to expect from the man any further.
We have seen our best hopes scattered to the winds ; our
warmest anticipations have been chilled and frozen by
discovering that words and actions, promises and dealings,
have been as opposite as two extremes can possibly be.
We believe that Divine Providence is dealing with us at
this moment in the events of the time expressly to show
us that we put our trust in man rather than in Himself,
—that we have imagined human help could avail, when it
ought to have been remembered that it is his province
alone to secure the safety of a nation, and that He has
said, " Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, and
maketh flesh his arm." We believe that we are on the
eve of decisive changes,—of remarkable occourrences,—of
important events. The powers of the earth are being
shaken, and the nations of the world are trembling. We
hope and pray that the Lord will deliver us out of the
dangers with which we are beset, and that He will cause
the end to be of permanent advantage to our country.
To those who trace his hand in the events of the present
times, the assurance cannot fail to be strong that what is
being done is for some great, some wise end and purpose.
If they will only bring us to repentance, and produce in
this land a positive turning to Him with prayer, and sor-
row for our national, as well as for our individual sinful-
ness, we should indeed hail the signs of the times with
rejoicing and hope. But be this as it may. and whatever
the womb of time may unfold to us, the conviction of
every Chris ian mind—that nothing which occurs hap.
peneth without the permission of Him who reigneth for
ever and ever, will allay each fear, and put all dread to
rest. " Duties are ours ; events are God's." In the
struggle that may come,—which is coming,—every
Christian man must act vigorously and decisively for God
and for his cause, leaving the issue to Him, who can, if
He will, keep back the ambitious desires, and restrain the
evil passions of sinful men, bringing their devices to
nought; but. whether He does so or not, will certainly
" make the wrath of man to praise Him," whilst the re-
mainEer of wrath He will undoubtedly restrain.

THE STEAM VESSELS OF THE UNITED STATES.—But
to return to the magnificent steamers on the north and
east rivers. They are as truly surprising in tneir dimen-
sions as they are convenient, and profuse in their decora-
tions. Fifteen steam-boats make a mile : tbis is a new
rule .of arithmetic, only found out in America, and I
mention it because it is much more easy than to remem-
ber that they are three hundred and fifty feet long each.
The Americans of all classes are a travelling people, emi-
nently so as confined to their own country; but they
know nothing of any other countries. The United States
is large enough, they think, to satisfy the most greedy of
travellers, and the price of travelling is so cheap that, as
the whole population lives in boarding-houses, it is as
cheap to be travelling as to be stopping at home, if you
can apply such a word as home to a boarding-house. For
instance, in these moving places, which go twice a-day to
Albany, one hundred and fifty miles, as far as Margate
and back again, I paid two shillings, but I might have
gone the same day for one shilling, by another boat not
quite so new and splendid. Only think, to Margate and
back for one shilling 1 We sate down two hundred to
dinner, and an excellent dinner we had, but it was two
shillings each, rather a high price. 1 noticed that every
body drank water. I hardly remember one single cork
being drawn during the whole dinner; perhaps there was
not one ! Now, here is a fact as truly astounding as the
vast proportions and magnificent fittings of the steamer,
and I thought to myself, who can stop the progress of a
nation that, to an unlimited extent of fertile land, adds
these two grand auxiliaries of steam and temperance ?
Steam has done wonders for America, and is only in its
infancy ; and yet omnipotent as it is for developing the
power and wealth of the growing states, yet the univer-
sal diffusion of temperance is calculated to secure the
greatest amount of individual happiness.—Rambles in the
States. .

EVIL RESULTS OF LONG ENGAGEMENTS.—" Yes—
yes—they wear the heart out. They are very, very bad—
nothing worse," said Carrington, " I admit—were I a
parent, nothing would ever induce me to suffer these con-
tracts, for Heaven only knows the amount of misery
which they involve. Well—well—we talk sagely now ;
young people often do "—he continued more cheerfully—
' perhaps when we grow old, we, too, shall talk wisely
about prudential considerations.' It is a remarkable
thing, Rivers, that these prudential people should con-
stantly be doing such very imprudent things. I know
nothing more imprudent than to permit au engagement
between two young people at opposite ends of the world."
" Prudence, like ambition, often ' overleaps itself, and
falls on the other side,' " said Rivers, " How badly do old
people calculate—they are the worst reckoners in the
world—they shake their heads, and talk very solemnly
about the ultimate happiness' of the young. The ul.
timate happiness,' those were the words which were so
often in the mouth of kg- father. It was very painful, he
knew—separation always is painful—but to secure our
eventual—our ultimate happiness—and God knows he
was right, too, but not in the sense in which he desired
his words to be understood. He was right—the very
prudential old man ! he was right—for he did secure the
ultimate happiness of his daughter—He made her happy
before her time—perfect happiness—perfect peace—among
the angels in heaven." Carrington felt that it would be
idle to attempt to calm the deep passion of his friend with
any common offerings of consolation. What could he
say ? Better he thought to give free vent to the tide cf
emotion—to suffer its force to expend itself. So be sat
silent in his sympathy, and Rivers continued Old
people, I say, are very prone to make dire, mistakes.
They know not—they have forgotten what youth is—and
when they handle young hearts, they are utterly uncon-
scious of the delicacy of the materials composing them.
At three-score weare apt to forget that the, coldness of
oil age has grown upon us, not grown with us ; and when
we make laws for the young, we are oblivious of the kind
of people we are legislating for„ It went do, Carrington
—it wont do. You may sever loving hearts, and tell
them to be happy—talk of prudential considerations and
eventual happiness—but whilst the young hearts are
learning these bitter lessons, their education is cut short

by death—perhaps we might discipline our hearts in time,
out they break beneath such hard schooling. So it was—
so it was with her—she died—she was not strong enough
—she was always very delicate—very sensitive—almost
morbidly sensitive—ever apprehensive of evil—of a most
excitable temperament. You could not have conceived a
Person less able to bear up against such trials. She said
she could not bear up against them—but prudential consi-
derations—eventual happiness—the solemn barbarity of
three-score. It was as certain, though less merciful an
immolation, than if the old man had sacrificed his daugh-
ter with a sharp knife. It was agreed at last that I should
return to India—that something should be done to in-
crease the scanty store of my poor subaltern's pay;—a
staff appointment—or, failing in that, promotion must
come sooner or later—could not be so very far off. They
say that she never smiled—that the little, it was very
slight, bloom upon her cheek forsook it then—and there
was not even a tinge—all so white—until there came a
little round spot. And time passed. She wrote very long
letters—was always writing letters—it was her only work
—ber only consolation—and upon this she might have
lived for some time—might have been still living—but for
this accursed war. When she knew I was in Affghanis-
tan, she ceased to hope. They did not tell me how much
worse she was—nor did she ever complain—but still her
letters revealed the truth. I could see, every month, that
the handwriting was more feeble more tremulous—
and they were shorter, too—those dear letters—written
with painful effort—and in such a strain—the letters,
Arthur, of a departing saint. And then one month, I was
prepared for it, the letter was written by her mother—and
I knew that sbe had gone to heaven—l knew that her
eventual happiness' had been secured."—Chapman and
Hall's Monthly Series.

A. LADY'S CALCULATION, OR HOW TO MARE EIGHT
PER CENT.—Make haste, Edward, make haste down,
you'll be too late," cried the anxious mistress of a pretty
lodge at Kensington, 10 its hurried, flurried, worried
master, as the omnibus that took him to town drove up to
his gate the other morning. How Ido hate this omnibus
life !" she continued, as after two or three " Now, sirs,"
from the road, he darted past herjust in time. Only to
think of my being obliged to see that dear fellow rush out
of doors every morning, as if the house were on fire !
That horrid omnibus ! It doesn't care how husband and
wife part I" And the affectionate creature, left to her-
self, sat down to meditate on grave matters. Various ab-
struse and difficult calculations kept her brain in full em-
ployment until his return, when the result began to un-
fold itself in this interesting observationt—ln my opi-
nion, Edward, we could very well afford a carriage !" A
slight shrug, a movement of the eyebrows, a rather me-
lancholy smile, and a decided shake of the head, conveyed
the discouraging answer. " Well, but think now," pur-
sued the lady, "just estimate the expepses. What would
a carriage and horses, once purchased, cost in the year?"
" Pair of horses? Oh, why, a hundred year ; set it down
at a hundred certain," was the reply. '• And what, now,
does the omnibus cost you, may I ask ?" " Omnibus ?
06, why, eight pounds ; about eight." " But this you
would save," argued the lady ; " for, if we had the car-
riage, you would not want the omnibus, you know."
" That's true; yes, of course, I should save the eight
pounds." " Well, well!" cried the lady, with a look of
exquisite simplicity, yet in a tone that implied something
of exultation as a discoverer. " Well ; and wouldn't that
be getting eight per cent.—Sketches from Life.
THE BARBARY ARABS IN ALEXANDRIA.—There is
a vindictive desperate class of Arabs, many of whom are
soldiers, in the employ of the Pacba of Egypt, prowling
about Alexandria. These fellows are prone to insult the
frank portion of the population whenever an opportunity
offere—for example, our consul in Alexandria, Mr. Stod-
dart, is in the habit of walking for some distance bryond
the gates of the city in the mornings. Frequently on
passing the gate which is on the road to Rosetta, he had
been sneered at by the idlers about the gate, who are of
the class above-mentioned ; but on one occasion they
called him a kelp, (dog,) efrit, (devil,) &c. Mr. Stod-
dart turned to note which of them had uttered the insult-
ing expressions, when one of the defenders came up and
deliberately spat in his face. Our Consul replied to this
delicate favour by thrashing him soundly with a stick he
held in his hand. The Arab shouted, the guards were
called out, and the crime appearing so great, i.e., a dog
of a Christian beating a Mussulman, Mr. Stoddart was
taken into custody, and was escorted down to the Basha
Guard (a place like our bridewell) by a troop of soldiers.
In passing the house of Mr. Larren Bey, the "borval,"
or door-keeper, came out and asked them what was the
matter; they replied, a dog of a Christian had been beat-
, ing an Arab. He said, "Do you know who you've got a
it's the English Consul !" They stood aghast ; wanted
to give up the charge, but the worthy Englishman re-
plied, "No, I insist upon being taken before the Divan,"
and away they went. Arrived at the guard-house, all the
authorities were sent for, it being a very uncommon thing
for a Consul, especially the English one, to be under ar-
rest. Atam Bey, the Paella's prime minister, arrived, the
insult and the punishment was proved, and immediately
the consul was released, an apology made for the inconve-
nience he had suffered, and in an hour afterwards the Arab,
who had insulted him, received a hundred lashes on the
soles of his feet.—From Memorandums of a tour in
Egypt, by Geo. Keet.
SCRIPTURE ILLUSTRATED BY MODERN PRACTICE.—
This description of the Hadji caravans that travel yearly
to Mecca bears so close a resemblance to the far-famed
journey of the Israelites through almost the same exten-
sive deserts, that, as the arrangement of those vast tra-
velling bodies seems to have undergone no material altera-
tion for nearly four thousand years, it affords the best
possible commentary illustrative of the Mosaic narrative
of the Exodus. Like them the immense body of Israel-
itish emigrants, while the chief burden devolved on Mo-
ses, was divided into companies, each company being un-
der the charge c,f a subordinate officer, called a prince.
Like them the Hebrews made their first stage in a hurried
manner and in tumultuous disorder; and like them, each
tribe had its respective standard, the precise form and de-
vice of which, among the conflicting accounts of the Rab-
bins, it is not easy to determine ; but which, of whatever
description it was, was pitched at the different stages, or
thrust perpendicularly into the ground, and thus formed
a central point, around which the struggling party spread
themselves during their hours of rest and leisure. Like
them the signal for starting was given by the blast of a
trumpet, or rather trumpets; and the time of march and
halting was regulated by the same rules that have been
observed by all travellers from time immemorial during
the hot season. Like theirs, too, the elevation of the
standard, as it was borne forward in the van of each com-
pany, formed a prominent object to prevent dispersion, to
enable wanderers to recover their place within the line or
division to which they belonged. The bands of Jewish
pilgrims that annually repaired from every corner of Judea
to attend the three great festivals in Jerusalem, wanted
this government and distribution into distinct companies
—but as their country was divided into tribes, and those
who lived in the same hamlet or canton would be more or
less connected by family ties—it is easy to understand
how the young Jesus might mingle successively with
groups of his kindred and acquaintance, who, captivated
with his precocious wisdom and piety, might be fond to
detain him in their circle, while his mother, together with
Joseph, felt no anxiety at his absence, knowing the grave
and sober cha►acter of their companions in trouble."—
Kitto's Cyclopedia of Biblical Literature.

CHARACTER OF WM. PITT.—Not only the favourite
son, but the cherished pupil of Chatham, who united
greater popular veneration with more grandeur of heart
and mind than any preceding or subsequent British states-
man, William Pitt was happily born for bringing his vast
talents to perfection. In his early youth his future great-
ness was confidently predicted by his parent; and so great
were the pains taken with his education, that bis precocity
was attributed to art. Thus the poet Coleridge derisively
maligned him in a philippic, in which there is more elo-
quence than justice :—" The influencer of his country and
his species was a young man, the creature of another's
predetermination, sheltered and weather-fended from all
the elements of experience ; he was cast rather than grew ;
a palpable election—a conscious predestination controlh d
the free agency, and transfigured the individuality of his
mind, and that which might have been, compelled into that
which he was to be." But the chief influence of Lord
Chatham upon his son was, in directing his mind to poli-
tics. Neither in intellect, moral nature, or acquired cha-
racter. was there any resemblance between the men. The
father's mind was imaginative and poetical ; the intellect
of Mr. Pitt was strictly logical, qualified to excel in ab-
stract science. The disposition of Lord Chatham was
vehement, warm, and enthusiastic; bis impulses sponta-
neous,
,his energy desultory. Mr. Pitt was cold—[not
inwardly so, as many actions of his life demonstrate]—
stately, impassive, uniform in his deportment, inflexible
in his purposes. And as they were not similar in their
minds, viewed abstractedly, or in their features, taken
ethically, so were their personal characters totally unlike,
when weighed by a moral standard. Lord Chatham was
pompous in his carriage, and ceremonious in his manners;
at home, or in the senate, he was theatrical in his style ;
travelled with a large retinue, and loved the gauds of rank
and office ; in Mr. Pitt's conduct, public and private, was
to be seen Spartan simplicity. The father had a passion
for fame in all its forms, both present notoriety and post-
humous renown ; the son grasped at power, guided his
course by his own opinions, and had none of his parent's
ambition of mere applause." "Making all reasonable al-
lowance for the pains taken by his father, there was a
marvellous precocity in his mind and character, and a sus-
tained strength in his abilities, which placed him above the
ordinary great men of the political world. The indivi-
duality of his intellect was most visible in his masterly
power of abstraction, and in his intuitive perception of
moral relations. With his singular art of generalising,
and his capacity for severe thinking, his genius might
have signalised itself in the speculative sciences, if, in-
stead of being devoted to politics, his large general powers'
had been accidentally determined in that direction.' In
addition to the mental requisites he was amply endowed
with the physical qualifications for oratorical success. His
voice, unequalled for its fulness of tone, was the finest
ever heard in parliament. His physiognomy had little
expression, save the calmness of one who felt his power,
and rarely betrayed emotion beyond occasional displeasure
with his followers, and withering contempt for his oppo-
nents But his forehead was large and capacious, and
gave dignity to his otherwise plain features. As be stood
before his audience, there was a total absence of nervous
haste; he appeared, even in the most trying crisis, certain
of success." " But even at this earliest period of his life,
he was a greater thing than a great orator—he was a great
man. Inflexible and self-reliant, be had that power of
affecting others, without stooping to their sympathies,
which always indicates one born to command. The strength
of his mind was even more remarkable than the symmetry

of his faculties, rare in their separate excAlence, won-
derful in their special combination.' Bold, prompt, and
decisive, there was nothing vague or wandering in his na-
ture. He possessed at once the discretion which pre-
serves a man from making difficulties, and the energy of
spirit which enables him to surmount them, when coming
from without. Inaccessible to the approach of all ignoble
passions—constantly devoted to vast objects, without the
follies and vices of his contemporaries—lofty—distant—
solitary—he had many admirers, withoirt seeking for
them, and a few friends, whom he carefully selected.
Ambitious of powr, not covetous of office, despising mo-
ney, to rank indifferent, austere in his tastes—his charac-
ter, far from fascinating, was certainly august. ' For
personal purity, disinterestedness, integrity, and a love of
his country, I have never known his equal,' was the testi-
mony of a discerning and faith-worthy witness, Wilber-
force. Without any vanity, he had excessive pride; but,
free from ostentation, he despised the strawkrriplendour
eh captivates the vulgar great. He was never dazzled,
unless by the brilliancy of his rivals, Burke and Fox ; for,
spurning at mediocrity, he disdained to notice the second-
rate, whether in men or things. Nor was he at any pains
to conceal his scorn for the mob, amongst whom (like
Henry Fielding) he included a vast part of the peerage
and commonage of England. Like his father he stood
alone ;' to use the words of his brilliant pupil, Canning,
As the sturdy warrior, leaning on his own battle-axe,
conscious where his strength lay, he did not readily look
beyond it.' With his range of powers, his many personal
gifts, and his towering spirit, he might have played any
parts in life, save those of a poet or a lover ! Viewing the
forms of the two Pitts, father and son, as they stand in
history, what different emotions their images call forth !
The impassioned and romantic father seems like a hero of
chivalry starting forth to thrill the English people with the
inspiration of by-gone times, and electrify their hearts
with the sentiments of their Tuetonic ancestry ; while the
stately and classical son, filled, not with Gothic senti-
ments of freedom, but with the lust for imperial power;
existing only to sway; blending his own pride with the
arrogance of his conquering country, yet preserving sim-
plicity in the splendour of his elevation, appears as a Ro-
man Dictator, compelled into the dimensions of an Eng-
lish Minister.—History of the Ape of Pitt and Fox.

THE JEWS.—It is found by experience that no uncon-
verted Jew can translate the Hebrew Scriptures, so as to
render them intelligible as a mere book : something is felt
to be wanting—there is a deficiency of sense in the most
important passages. A person, ignorant of Christianity,
on reading such a translation, would say that it must be
wrong—it is destitute of meaning; there is a.great parade
of preparation ; but no result appears, or the conclusion
is so lame and impotent as to appear ridiculous. 'We say
" unconverted Jew," that we may limit the assertion to
times subsequent to the incarnation ; since no Jew before
their rejection of God, because they had rejected Christ,
was in that dreadful condition of professing to believe in a
revelation from heaven, and finding the book thereof to be
sealed, and groping after a meaning as for bid treasure,
yet utterly unable to find any rational, any satisfactory,
sense.—Church of England Quarterly.
THE TERM " CATHOLIC."—In the second place, be
cautious in the adoption of terms which have become the
symbols of a party. Thus the term "Catholic" as applied
to our Church, cannot be objected to. The boast of our
Reformation was, that we had, by that blessed event, cor-
rected all the manifold abuses of the Church of Rome, and
brought our Church back to what we believe to have
been nearly the universal practice of the primitive Church.
In this state we pray in the Liturgy for the good estate of
the Catholic Church, in which passage, to avoid ambi-
guity, it were to be wished perhaps that the term "uni-
versal" bad been preferred ; but when it is recollected
that this is, I believe, the only passage in the Liturgy in
which this term is used (for the creeds can hardly be con-
sidered as part of the Liturgy), is there not an affectation
in applying it on every occasion to our Protestant Refor-
med Church ?—and does it not betoken a disposition to
overlook, as much as possible, the distinctions which
have been proved to exist between the two Churches?
In like manner we have been taught to disclaim the term
" Protestant," derived as it was from the first Reformers
who protested against the errors of the Church of Rome,
as if we had no longer cause to protest against such errors.
The use or disuse of particular words in treating upon re-
ligious subjects may indeed be justly considered as trifles;
but alas ! it has been found by experience that "hey nugce
seria ducent in mala." We may call ourselves Catholic:,
and disclaim being Protestants, till it appears as if both
Churches formed but one vineyard, and that, consequent-
ly, it is a matter of little import in which part of it our
ministerial] labours are employed. It has been nay ob-
ject in the present charge to point out to you that this is
not the case, and that, however charitably we may view,
and ought to view, the errors of our Roman Catholic
brethren—however disposed to consider them as a branch
of the universal Church of Christ, and even to extend
their means of usefulness among their own people—we
should be cautious how we modify the distinctions bet-
ween us till they become almost evanescent quantities,
and thus dispose our own minds, as well as those of our
people to the seduction of that son of perdition who is
ever on the watch for unstable souls.--Bishop of Llandoff.
THE ROADS NEAR PARIS.—In the Daily News, the
first number of which appeared on Wednesday, is a slash-
ing letter from Charles Dickens (Boz). The letter is the
first of a series which are headed " Travelling Letters."
The following description of the first portion of the road
from Paris to Boulogne is highly characteristic of the
writer of Pickwick :—" There is liitle more than one va-
riety in the appearance of the country for the first two
days. From a dreary plain to an interminable avenue ;
and from an interminable avenue, to a dreary plain again.
Plenty of vines there are, in the open fields, but of a short
low kind, and not trained in festoons, but about straight
sticks. So one don't care much for them. Beggars in-
numerable there are, everywhere • but an extraordinarily
scanty population, and fewer children than I ever encoun-
tered. I don't believe we saw a hundred children between
Boulogne and Chalons. Queer old towns, draw-bridged
and walled, with odd little towers at the angles, like gro-
tesque faces, as if the wall had put a mask on, and were
staring, down into the moat; other strange little towers,
in gardens and fields, and down lanes, and in farm-yards :
all alone, and always round, with a peaked roof, and
never used for any purpose at all ; ruinous buildings of all
sorts ; sometimes an hotel de ville, sometimes a guard-
house, sometimes a dwelling-house; sometimes a chateau
with a rank garden, prolific in dandelion, and watched
over by extinguisher-topped turrets, and blink-eyed little
casement; are the standard objects, repeated over and
over again. Sometimes we pass a village inn, with a
crumbling wall belonging to it, and a perfect town of out-
houses : and painted over the gateway. " Ecurie pour'
soixante chevaux ;" as indeed there might be stabling for
sixty score, were there any horses to be stabled there, or
anybody resting there ; or anything stirring about the
place but a dangling bush, indicative of the wine inside :
which flutters idly in the wind, in lazy keeping with every
thing else—and certainly is never in a green old age,
though always so old as to be dropping to pieces. And
all day long, strange little narrow waggons, in strings of
six or eight, bringing cheese from Switzerland, and fre-
quently in charge, the whole line, of one man or even boy
—and he very often asleep in the foremost cart—come
gingling past: the horses drowsily ringing the bells upon
their harness, and looking as if they thought (no doubt
they do) their great blue woolly furniture, of immense
weight and thickness, with a pair of grotesque horns
growing out of the collar, very much too warm for the
Midsummer weather."
SINGULAR DISPUTE BETWEEN TWO LORD CHANCEL-
LORS.—In early times the king used occasionally to deli-
ver to the chancellor several seals of different materials,
as one of gold and one of silver, but with the same im-
pression, to be used for the same purpose ; and hence we
still talk of the seals being in commission," or of a par-
ticular individual being a " candidate for the seals,"
meaning the office of Lord Chancellor; although with the
exc-ption of the rival great seals used by the King and
the Parliament during the civil war in the time of Charles
1., there has not been for many centuries more than.one
great seal in existence at the same time. When, on a new
reign, or on a change of the royal arms or style, an order
is made by the Sovereign in Council for using a new great
seal, the old one is publicly broken, and the fragments
become the fee of the Chancellor. This being the general
rule, an amicable contest, honoris causa, arose upon the
subject between two of the most distinguished men who
have ever held the office. Lord Lyndhurst was Chancel-
lor on the accession of William IV., when by an order in
Council a new great seal was ordered to be prepared by
his Majesty's chief engraver, but when it was finished and
an order Iwas made for using it, Lord Brougham was
chancellor. Lord Lyndhurst claimed the old great seal
on theground that the transaction must be referred back
to the date of the first order, and that the fruit must
therefore be considered as having fallen in his time ; while
Lord Brougham insisted that the point of time to be re-
garded was the moment when the old great seal ceased to
be the "clavis regni", and that there was no exception to
the general rule. The matter being submitted to the king
as supreme judge in such cases, his majesty equitably ad-
judged that the old great seal should be divided between
the two noble and learned litigants, and as it consisted of
two parts for making an impression on both sides of the
wax appended to letters patent—one representing the so-
vereign on the throne, and the other on horseback—the
destiny of the two parts respectively should be determined
by lot. His majesty's judgment was much applauded, and
he graciously ordered each part to be set in a splendid
silver salver with appropriate devices and ornaments,
which he presented to the late and present keeper of his
conscience as a mark of his personal respect for them.
The ceremony of breaking or " damasking" the old great
seal consists in the sovereign giving it a gentle blow with
a hammer, after which it is supposed to be broken, and
has lost all its virtue.—Lord Campbell's Lives of the
Lord Chancellor.

SUNDAY AMONGTHE INDIANS OF ORIALLA (Berbice.)
—Sunday, the wished-for day, came. Notice having
been previously given that there would be divine service,
it was pleasing to see the Indians with their squaws and
children coming down from the heights, and others in the
light canoes gliding on swiftly,—all converging to the spot
appointed for the worship of the Great Spirit. They
came in their best attire. The women were prettily
dressed,—if they may be called dressed, who were only
covered from the waist downwards. They have beautiful
beads of jet-black Bair, glossy and shining, which upon
this occasion was divided over the forehead, drawn behind
the ears, and plaited and twisted in European style, at the
back of the head. They wore a profusion of neekl ces
and armlets made of different-coloured beads. The men
were not so particular, the dress of each being Indian
ala mode, confined to a simple covering. They were,
however, clean, and behaved with the greatest decorum.
There were between sixty and seventy present : some sat
upon the green sward, others upon logs of timber, while
I took my stand beside the trunk of a venerable tamarind
tree, with a rude table as desk and pulpit before me.
This majestic tree spread its immense branches over the
whole congregation, who were screened from the midday
sun in its ample shade. The commissioner acted as clerk.
while I read the beautiful liturgy of our Church in the
hearing of those simple children of nature. Most of
them understand, and some of them can converse in En-
glish. They listened with becoming attention while I
endeavoured, in as plain a language as possible, to direct
their thoughts to the love of God in the gift and sufferings
of his beloved Son. At...the conclusion of the service
eleven of their little ones were presented for baptism.
Some few years since, Bishop Coleridge, on the same
spot, dedicated about forty of their offspring to the
Almighty by the same divine right. They, with pleasure,
told the circumstance. On this calm Sabbath the sight
and the services were delightful. In the front, the noble
river was sweeping onwards, reminding me of that graphic
passage in the Acts, where it is said, "and on the Sab-
bath day we went out of the city by a river side, where
prayer was wont to be made, and we sat down and spoke
to the women who resorted thither." On every side the
orange, the lime, the coffee, the banana, and the mango
trees were in bloom, interspersed with the majestic wild
locust, the sand box, and those living Corinthian columns,
the magnificent palms, which, while looking down from
their towering altitude upon their lowly fellows of inferior
growth, protected them in their parental shadows from
the scorching rays. In the rear was the primitive
dwelling of the old man, who, with his family, were
amongst the audience. All nature seemed to accord in
the solemnity of the occasion : the air was cool and re-
freshing, charged with odoriferous fragrance from the
spicy hills. Overhead the rolling clouds occasionally
passed by, and threw their dark shadows down to solemn-
ise the scene ; and the innocent birds springing from
spray to spray, chimed in with their sweet notes, while
we sung one of the sacred songs of Zion.—Simmond:e
Col. Mag.
It is calculated that the number of churches in the
United States is 40,074, the number of ministers 32,563,
and the number of communicants 4,456,544.
It will be seen by our advertising columns, that Rod-
well, the musical composer, poet, dramatist, and novelist,
commences a new work of fiction on the 31st. We un-
derstand it is to be in a perfectly different style to that of
his amusing " Memoirs of an Umbrella ;" but be it in
what style it may, there is one thing we venture to pre-
dict, namely, that it will work to a moral end, and be re-
plete with the kindest feelings of the heart. It is not
generally known that Rodwell is the author of that univer-
sally known farce called " Teddy the Tiler."

Jan. 27, 1846.

Zirtbs, Aiarriagrs aiib 43tatbo.

BIRTHS.
javte, Lately, the a
thedawuigfehotefr A. lexander Oswald, Esq., M.P., of Auchin.
On the 14th instant, at Clifton-park, Cheshire, the lady of
Captain W. Christian. of a son.

On the 16th instant. Mrs. George Robert Glover, Percy-street,

of a son

On the 20th instant, at Devonshire-terrace, Mrs. Thomas
Arnott, of a daughter.