The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1838-12-04 00:00:00

CONTEMPORARY PRESS.

LORD DURHAM.
(From the Blackburn Standard.)
We have from the onset written that Lord Durham's
mission has proved a painful and humiliating political
abortion, as might reasonably have been expected ;
and need only refer to the sentiments and opinions
expressed by us on his lordship's receiving the ap-
pointment in question. Admitting the necessity pro-
duced for some such appointment, through the pre-
vious unmanly and truckling administration of the
law and constitutional authority of the mother coun-
try, by a ministry whose almost every act has been a
paradox to the inevitable necessities of all sound
government, we could neither approve the plans
adopted, the haste of their completion, nor the indi-
vidual selected for the fulfilment of the onerous and
undefined, duties. When we express our humble
opinion that Lord Durham was nearly the last man
amongst the titled aristocracy of England (not posi-
tively avowed levellers, as Lord King and one or two
others) who should have had such a carte blanche sur-

rendered to his discretion, the sequel proves that we
are strictly correct ; whilst we disclaim all sinister
feeling towards Lord Durham personally, in coming
to such conclusion, and however painful the attendant
issues to our ill-fated and misgoverned country.
Every candid man, the least practically acquainted
with the principles and practice of the laws and con-
atitution of England, and desirous of their retention—
of anstaining the indefeasibility of Magna Charta, the
security of the Bill of Rights, and the privileges of
Trial by Jury, must admit the necessity of measures
d posteriori, imposed by Lord Durham's own rash-
ness, his ignorance or contempt for the authority of
the fairest principles of English law, or the grossly
ignorant legal advice under which he may have acted.
No man in his senses will deny that the banishment
of State prisoners, or their forcible detention, without
trial, in a place beyond his jurisdiction, was an illegal
act—an act subversive of every attribute of the British
constitution, and for which Lord Durham (despite his
high commission, flanked by all the talents of com-
bined whiggery and Whig chancellor law) might have
been impeached We know nothing of Lord Brough-
am's alleged motives; we come to the facts of the
case—to that painfully responsible complexity in which
the question stood upon its own merits in the House
of Lords, that portion of the domestic legislature of
Great Britain especially called upon and fully autho-
rised in its trust capacity to protect the liberty of the
subject under every circumstance, as well as to gua-
rantee the due execution of the law, but. more espe-
cially so in the all grave and important matter of the
Canadian pacification, the redress for past wrongs and
offences, and the institution of a new legislative sys-
tem, to be sanctioned by the authority of the British
crown and parliament. It were surely too much to
advance that a British parliament should not interfere
in a matter of such weighty import; and having so
interfered, Lord Durham is-
not quite so blameable in
the secondary case, and on the ground of personal
feeling for surrendering a post, the dignity and moral
povsers of which he had in the first place compromised
by his own imprudence or weak judgment, and one he
could no longer retain in honour or power, under the
mean desertion of that expedient band of time-serving
Philosophical confederates, miscalled " a ministry,"
Which deserted, sacrificed "their noble friend" in the
hour of his necessity, after straining in breathless
haste the rules of all courtly decorum in his appoint-
ment, rather than fall nobly wilh his error. The
country at large, the nation 'of Englishmen, cannot
Possibly have more than one opinion on the conduct
of men thus falsely assuming the high functions of
statesmen, or pretending to the finer sentiments of
gentlemen. Its baseness is too palpable to admit of
measured terms of reprobation; and not all the toil

SYMPTOMS OF A BREAK-UP.
(From the Dublin Evening Mail.)
Notwithstanding the denials of the official, and demi-
official organs, Lord Notmanby is certainly on the eve
of his retirement from Ireland—not to return.—
Amongst the most comical of the reasons assigned for
his departure at this precise moment, is that given by
the government journal—that he is going to look after
his estates in Yorkshire. We hope, sincerely, his
lordship may be fortunate enough to find them ; and
othets, we are sure, will join us in that aspiration.
But there are other indications of a break-up, which
cannot be mistaken. It is evident that ministers, pre-
paratory to their retirement, are about to perpetrate a
job so scandalous in its conception, and so monstrous
in its nature, that one is really astonished at the hardi-
hood and recklessness by Which it could be prompted.
A negotiation has been opened with Lord Pluuket
by which his retirement from office is secured, in order
that the country may be saddled with an expense of
four thousand a-year to his successor, who will, of
course, be displaced within three months after his ap-
pointment.
Whether Baron Richards or Sir John Campbell is
to be the lucky pensioner we know not, nor is it in-
deed material.

As a preliminary step—one, of course, forming part
of the con•si-de-ra-tion—Mr. M'Causlancl, the bro-
ther in-law of Lord Plunket, yesterday resigned his
situation of secretary, worth two thousand a•year, but
not permanent, for that of clerk of the council, pro-
ducing seven hundred a year—the latter being a pa-
tent place, and the occupier not removable.
Mr. Corry Connellan, one of the gentlemen at
large, and, we believe, a barrister, is appointed ad in-
terim secretary to the chancellor.
What precise terms Lord Plunket—that best of " fa-
mily men"—has made for his other connexions does
not appear; but of course the next vacant bishopric,
for his son the Dean, forms part of the contract, and
which must be execu-ted.

NATIONAL EDUCATION.
(From the Dublin Evening Mail.)
Since the patronage of the National Schools has
fallen into the hands of the priests, the character of
the teachers has so wofullv degenerated, that it. be-
comes in many cases a matter of doubt whether they
be one jot more moral, more loyal and orderly, or
more intelligent than the old hedge schoolm%sters and
mistresses whom the Kildare-place Society had suc-
ceeded in suppressing. We do not mean to say that
the commissioners would knowingly or wilfully sanc-
tion the appointment of a drunkard—but we think
they ought to look more sharply after the appointments
of the priests. The following is a case in point :
"Sergeant Reilly preferred a charge 'on Monday, at
the city police-office, against Mrs. Meade, mistress of
the National School, at Bober, near Kilteely, under
the superintendence of the Rev. Mr. Walsh, (Popish
priest of course,) for being drunk in the streets. Mrs.
Meade stated she came to Limerick to purchase clothes,
and not having taken breakfast in the morning, she
drank a little wine, mixed in peppermint water. Mr.
Yokes—l hope you don't teach the children to drink
cordials.. I shall take care to mention to the Rev.
Mr. Walsh that the mistress of his school was taken
up by the police, who found her drunk in the streets,
and that I fined her 2s. 6d., or, in default of payment,
to be imprisoned 24 hours."—Limerick Chronicle.

MORE NORMANBY CLEMENCY.
( From the Dublin Evening Mail.)
Lord Normanby, unabashed by reproof, and un-
daunted by its consequences, continues his pernicious
interference with the administration of the law, and
sets the prerogative of the crown as a bar between
justice and crime

"Another instance of the mischievous policy of the
Trish government," says the Ulster Times, " has been
committed to us, and in detailing it, we give such par-
ticulars as will enable the Whig, or any other liberal
print, to set us right, if wrong in any part of our
statement. Daniel M'Aleese, of Tullvagans, near
Dunloy, in this county, was tried and convicted at the
last summer assizes for this county, of robbing Patrick
M'Cormick on the highway, between Coleraine and
Ballymoney, and sentenced by the judge to seven
years' transportation. There was no mitigatory cir•
cumstance in the case—no doubt upon the evidence—
no recommendation from the jury—and no hope held
out from the judge; yet this fellow returned to Car-
rickfergus gaol (for he had been sent to the Hulk) on
Saturday last, the 24th instant, having had his sen-
tence commuted to two years' imprisonment. At the
expiration of this period this highwayman is to be
turned loose on society, in virtue of the Marquis of
Normanby's license, to plunder with impunity."

WHIG SIGNALS OF DISTRESS.
(From the Morning Herald of Friday.
The courier waxed melancholy, last night, while
contemplating the position and prospects of its patrons.
Our contemporary, after, indirectly, admitting the ut-
ter feebleness of the present officials, proceeds, as if
conscious of having confessed too much, to show that
Lord Melbourne possesses secret sources of strength,
which might enable him to crush the aristocracy—pro-
viding his lore for the constitution would permit him
to call these sources of strength into action !

" Were Lord Melbourne disposed to throw himself on the
radical reformers of England—a policy so often and so falsely
attributed to bins by the tory press—the accession of strength
of which he stands in need would easily be obtained. Let 'the
ballot batistes be displayed, and the repeal of the corn laws pie-
mised, and a shout of enthusiasm would rise from Caithness
to Cornwall, and from Galway to Kent, that would yield in
no way to the reform excitement of 1832. But such a line of
policy would necessitate a sweeping change in the constitution
of the [louse of Peers, and Lord Melboui ne, unkindly as he
has been used by it, clings stoutly to his order."

The display of " the ballot banner" would, we may
observe, drive from Lord Melbourne's side many of
those who now support him ; whilst a promise to re-
peal the corn laws would not gain him a single vote
either in Parliament or at the polling booths—for this
plain reason, that all the anti-corn law men in Parlia-
ment, and out of Parliament, are already on the side
of the whigs. As to " the t»asses" who rendered the
reform excitement of 1832 formidable, let Lord Mel-
bourne talk to them of the blessings of corn-law re-
peal, and let him, if he can, derive fresh courage from
the withering scorn with which his proposition would
be received. If the whigs would fairly fathom the
depths of contempt to which they have sunk, let them,
we say, try this appeal to " the masses" on the sub-
ject of the corn laws!
Lord Melbourne, however, conscious as he is of his
strength, whenever it shall please-him to exert it, is
yet merciful ; and rather than destroy " the tories,"
wicked as they are, why, the Courier tells us, his lord-
ship will pardon their offences, and—coalesce with
them !

"The affairs of the country have arrived at a point which
makes a strong government indispensable. Can the tories
form such a government themselves ? if not, will not some
among them sacrce something of their party predilectivns to
enable the whigs to form one !"

The Courier is, beyond question, engaged to libel
its friends in otrice ! What, the pure, lofty, " liberal"
government coalesce With the " hereditary enemies of
ail improvement"—with "the patrons of corruption"
—with "the obstacles to the progress of reform !"
The thing is inconceivable. The Courier must mis-
conceive entirely the meaning of its Downing•street
friends! Our contemporary does not seem to know,
that • " patriotism" has, for a long time, required, above
all other things, that "the tories should be kept out."
To attain that great end, the whig chiefs have recom-
mended that "all minor differences between reform-
ers" should be sunk ! These chiefs, therefore, can
never dream of being themselves the parties to " let
the tories in." The offer, besides, is too tempting to
conservatives! Only think of the mighty accessions
in point of talent, and energy, and character, and po-
pularity, which tha whigs would contribute to the
proposed coalition !

CHURCH OF SCOTLAND.-TRADESMEN'S
SOIREE, EDINBURGH.

Provost White, of Leith, presided, and as the best speech
of the night was unquestionably that of Dr. Chalmers, we
give it as reported in the Edinburgh Courant:—
Dr. CH A 1.51101 S after complimenting the speech just deli-
vered by Mr. Guthrie, said,-4 am glad to be relieved from
the unwieldy subject of church e;tension; for I can fully
sympathize with my excellent friend who commenced the
addresses of the evening, in his statement that he telt bur-
dened and oppressed with the extent and magnitude of the
subject. Yet, in the short time which he expended upon it
--short I mean as compared with the magnitude of the theme
—he left on that theme the impress of his own profound and
pious feelings; and, in particular, he has enriched this great
argument with what was to me an original consideration—
(cheers)—and what is not always true of original arguments
—one that is eminently practical, of bringing the whole sub-
ject to that most decisive of all tests—the test of prayer. I

shall not make any farther observations on this theme, but I
content myself with the hope that this original view of the
subject will be pressed home on the consciences and the reli-
gious sensibilities of all here present. I beg you will all
understand that, after we shall have fully completed the work
of what is now called church extension, I shall only consider
the work as little more than half done. I shall not consider
the parochial economy complete by the mere erection of a
church in every destitute district. The scheme of church
extension must be followed up by an adequate and commen-
surate scheme of school extension. (Cheers.) The. paro-
chial economy will not be complete unless, in addition to
every church, there shall be placed a school—the one for
Christian, the other for common education—the one for the
Christian-education of all the people, the other for the com-
mon education of all the children in a district. But rill
must nut imagine that because I make a distinction between
Christian and common education, therefore I understand
that in the learning of the school Christianity should'have no
part, or that 1 at alt-give in to the heartless system of disse-
vering religion from education. Religion in Scotland gave
the first impulse to education. Knox and his associates—
(cheers)—Knox and his associates convinced the popular
understanding of the country that the Bible was the genuine
record of the communication from God to man, and that
within the four corners of that book were contained the words
which were able to make thein'all wise unto salvation. This
inspired them with an intense desire to po'ssess the faculty of
reading—that they might unlock the mysteries of the Scrip-
tures, and acquire that knowledge of God, and of his Son,
Jesus Christ, which is life everlasting. This created a uni-
versal demand for education among the people of Scotland.
Therefore, let us never forget that religion is the parent of
the school; and if the ssbool, by an act of unnatural rebellion,
should cast of the authority of its parent—if it should ever for-
get and disown its great progenitor, all the blessings and the
glory which it had conferred on the land would speedily de-
. part from it. (Great cheering.) By the wretched exchange
of the bread of life for the mere husks of uusanctified know-
ledge, the moral health of the youth of Scotland would wither
into extinction, just as surely as their physical health would
wither, if they were bereft of the nourishment of man, and
driven to the necessity of feeding upon ashes. I confess that
I look with jealousy and dislike on all the tamperings, on
the part of crude and incompetent speculators, with the sacred
business of education, (Loud cheers.) To take the Bible
from the school, if it is not dropping poison into the fountain
heads of morality, is at least to take away from those foun-
tain heads the healing waters of the sanctuary. (Cheers.)
Our people would indeed continue to be taught; but the
light put before them would be moral darkness; and we have
the authority of our Saviour for saying how great would be
that darkness. Knowledge, it is said. is power; and it. know-
ledge is associated with religion, it becomes a power for the
virtuous and the good, and tells with the best and most bene-
ficent influence on the well-being of society. But if know-
ledge is dissociated from religion, that does-not destroy
the truth of the maxim that knowledge is power; but it is
power emancipated from the restraints of principle, and let
loose on society like the policy of an artful tytant, or the
military science of a ruthless conqueror, only to enslave and
destroy. (Loud cheers.) Yes, gentlemen, we mean to
have our school, but we mean in the economy of the school
to abide by the good old ways of our forefathers. We mean
to have the Bible the regular and daily school-book. We
mean to have the Catechism the regular and daily school
exercise; and these shall be taught openly and fearlessly,—
not dealt with as contraband articles,—not smuggled into
holes and corners of the Establishment, mended or mutilated
by human hands, that the message of the Eternal-may be
shaped to the taste and prejudices of men, not confined to
the odd days of the week, or skulking into by-rooms, lest the
priests of an itolerant faith should be offended. No, gentle-
men, we will place the Word of God in the fore-front of our
system of education; and we will render it the unequivocal,
the public, the conspicuous object, becoming the Christian
and Protestant nation. if there is one association more in-
veterate than another in the Scottish understanding, it is
the association between the Church and the s'-hool. I met
with an instance of this three years ago in the Water of Leith.
It was, in the first instance, suggested to get up a petition in
that district for an endowment to the new church. We pro-
posed no snore at that time; but it occurred to themselves,
and of their own spontaneous accord they determined to su-
peradd another petition—for an endowment to the school
also. This was entirely the doing of the people themselves.
The first petition for the church, in a population of thirteen
hundred, was subscribed by six hundred and eighteen signa-
tures; the second petition, for the school, was subscribed by
16x hundred and sixteen signatures. The truth is, these two
'things, the church and the school, are held by a Scotchman
to be inseparable. A church without a school would he re-
garded as an anomaly; and the only other anomaly which
would be still more violent and outrageous to the feelings of
a Scotchmau, would be a school without a Bible. (Loud
cheering.) But while I thus contend for the Bible, I would
not limit the education of the working classes, as some would,
to the mere capacity of reading it. I would give them as
much education as they have taste and time for. Only grant
me that primary education shall be based on religion ; and
after that interest has been adequately secured, you can
never overdo the business of education—von can never over-
enlighten the people. In this matter, let us seek first the
kingdom of God and his righteousness; and then we may

legitimately look and labour for the fulfilment of the pro-
mise, that all other things shall be added unto us. I have a
strong and confident anticipation—though it would require a
long argument to make it good—to rationalize it to you—l
have a confident anticipation that the result of a well-taught
and a well-principled population will be, that they will reach
a higher status in the community than they now occupy.
Less work—so that they may not be drudged like beasts of
burden; more wages—(cheers)—greater leisure for the cul-
ture of the higher faculties of their nature—(continued
cheering)—and an indefinitely nearer approach in science
and all other sorts of scholarship to those who now stand
above them in apparently hopeless superiority. I do not
say that I shall ever see this in niv day; but I am confident
that, if we Christianize the people, we shall intellectualize
them also,—that we shall transform them into kindly and
companionable men, with whom we may at all times bold de-
lighted converse; and the specimens of the intercourse that
I have had with them has given me a foretaste of those de-
lightful and brilliant anticipations. (Cheers.) Therefore it
is, that I, for one, am a friend to popularizing philosophy,—
mehanics' institutes,—to the copious supply of a large and
liberal information to ail classes of society. Only let Chris-
tianity be ever present as a presiding influence to leaven all
and sanctify all, and then all will•be right and safe; and the
blessed conjuncture will bp realized, of our being at once an
intellectual and religious nation. I trust I have made my-
self understood—(loud cheers)—so far as to make it palpable
that I hold a Bible class to be an integral and indispensible
pat t of every school, and that I hold Christianity to be an

integral and indispensible part of every system of education ;
for )confess that I look with no sympathy on the general im-
provement of the national character from any scheme of
education, if it is merely an education of letters, and not an
education of principles. (Cheers.) It is not scholarship
alone, but scholarship impregnated with religion, which tells
on the mass of society. Apart Irons this, I have no confi-
dence in the efficacy of mechanics' institutes, or even in
primary and elementary sebools, for building up a virtuous and
well-conditioned peasantry. There is a charm attached to the
school system of Scotland; and it is believed that if it
could be transferred into England or Ireland the same re-
sults would follow. But tt• is forgotten that a warm and
earnest Christianity animated the spirit of all our insti-
tutions for generations after they were framed ; and that,
wanting this, they are no more fitted to discharge the
functions of moralizing the people than a human skeleton
would be fitted to perform the functions or discharge the
energies of a living man. The ,school is wrought into our
ecclesiastical system, not in an intolerant or exclusive spirit,
but for the purpose of impregnating the boyhood of the land
with the religion of the Bible. A mera scholarship of letters
may diffuse intelligence among the people, but it is mainly
to the power of religion that that the moral greatness of our
people is owing. 1 cannot sit down—(loud cheers)—without
expressing my unbounded delight at the meeting of this
evening; at the heartfelt cordiality which has evidently glowed
on every conntenance. (Cheers.) To me this meeting is re-
commended as being a meeting made up of all classes, for
my great lesson for a quarter of a century has been that the
different classes of society are kept too distant from each
other. I may state my own experience. I have made tens
of thousands of visits to the houses of the poor, and there were
not half a dozen where I was received with-incivility or cold-
ness, but from almost all I met a decent, and, in the vast,
majority of instances, a cordial and friendly reception at
their hands. When I was in London in 1822. I called o❑ a
Member of Parliament, Mr. Joseph Butterworth, in Russell-
square—he was a pious man and a Christian philanthropist.
It is a curious fact that the houses of the grandees in Lon-
don, and those where the most wretched of the London popu-
lation reside, are within a stone's throw of each other.—

Russell-square is in the parish of St. Giles's which is occu-
pied by the poorest, the most wretched and.abandoned popu-
lation of London. Ile proposed that we should make a tour
through the houses; I gladly accompanied him, and we spent
the forenoon going from house to house, not on a pecuniary
errand, for that would have rendered doubtful the success of
the experiment if our object had been to get money, but with
a view to ingaire into the state of education, and, without a
single exception, we were received in the most cordial and
affectionate manner by every one. Mr. Butterworth told toe
it was only within the last twelve months they had made the
discovery that this intercourse with the people was safe, or in
other words, the higher knew so little*of the lower classes of
society that' they imagined they could not pass over the
thresholds without the risk of personal harm and loss. It
was no surprise 'to me, because for years I had been experi-
encing a cordial reception among the poor, and I thought
surely that could not be a hai:py state of things where such
malignant and obstinate prejudices existed between the higher
and the lower orders of the community. Let there be snore
intercourse among us as brethren, and prejudices will soften,
and the breath of a new and bland spirit will go forth over the
whole land. I therefore feel personally grateful fot the invi-
tation I have received to-night. I qm delighted at this oppor-
tunity of approximation in the different classes. It is obvious
that we can he at no loss for congenial topics. You are aware
that the members of one profession are rather at a loss on
meeting. with persons of another profession if they are con•
fined to the things of this world; but we can be at no such
loss while our topics are of that catholic comprehensive de-
scription which have characterized all the topics of this
evening. 'We have met as members of one family, as crea-
tures of one God, as the disciples of one Redeemer' as the
expectants of one and the same blissful immortality. (Cheers.)
I am sure there are here materials enough for us, instead of
frowning on each other from our respective orbits, to continue
to live in peace and friendship, rejoicing in the fellowship of
a common hope, and in the brotherhood of a common nature.
(Loud cheers.) We read a good deal of precursor meetings
and precursor associations. I hope with all my heart this
will be a precursor meeting. It is a very mixed assembly,
some people will say. I trust it will be the precursor of many
such assemblies, and first and foremost of such mixed assem-
blies as are to .be met with every Sabbath in one and all of
i tna Edinburgh. Lien binuorsgt ht.n
tle lookt
;go r
ewxapr at
Ili tehn at nt
nt i ct
hi re) apt iroex.i
t—hefocrhiutrcishebsy
sent range of Church extension—to the erection of the new
church in the Cowgate, I know my friend Mr. Guthrie is a
house-going minister—(cheers)—and I also know that this is
the patent way to create a church-going people. I have a
confident hope that, by the blessing of Goa, I shall vet see
tt
hh day
ee
Cowgate,
ovslwahteen. when, theaantd or itssound of
lateral itse parish t
es, shall bell,
pourevery
7.0
thtih utsteteitnr
families. That would be a mixed assembly such as we have
at present the honour and the happiness of enjoying. It is
said that a minister is a man of no rank—and that is true.
What is the reason? Because he is a man of all ranks—fit to
keep company with kings, but whose particular 1 = g.ory .s to oe.
a frequent inmate of cottages, and a daily visitor- at the poor
man's dying bed. (Cheers.) I trust, that when this arrange-
ment shall be exhibited in the Covvg,ater and multiplied over
Edinburgh, that which no adjustment of politics has been
able to effect—the harmonising together of all classes of so-
ciety—shall be at last effected by gospel ministrations, and
by gospel charity. (Cheers.) I ought to express, in com-
mon with my friend .Dr. Muir, the gratification which I feel,
not only for the invitation and for the meeting of this even-
ing, but also the sincere feeling which is due to the venerable
patriarch of this assembly—(cheers)—with the weight of
good old age upon his shoulders—in the language of the
Bible, "well stricken in years." (Cheers.) i trust that be
will not be the worse of the long attendance he had with us;
and that the confinement will have no unfavourable influence
on his bodily health, or his physical powers. (Cheers.) I
am sure that I express his feelings as well as my own when I
say that so far as moral comfort is concerned, we have never
spent a night of more intense enjoyment than on the present
occasion. (Loud cheers.) One word more, and I have
done. When I expressed my high anticipations of a good
result from the arrangements in the Cowgate, I put forward
a qualifying clause when I said by the blessing of God. This
is an aee of great and bustling activity; and the great dan-
ger is, lest we should putthat confidence in the doings of man,
which is only warranted when we have an expectation, and a
well-grounded, hope of a blessing from on high. I deeply feel,
—touch activity as I have had in several enterprses,--I deeply
feel that A sacred and impressive mockery awaits all our en-
terprises for the good of the Church, unless the hand of God

, -
der wreck of a large fortune for an inheritance. To be sure,
he had also—had he chosen to assume it—a medley of names,
patrician and plebian—from "Howard" to Higgins,"—the
melancholy records of departed properties, to the acquisition
of .which an assumption of names had in many cases been a
condition, and which—had he now borne them all—would
have given him a name,' as he exmessed. it, "long enough
for a fishing-rod ;• but these he prudently renounced, prefer-
ing to enter life with the single title of "O'Donnell .4f Kil-
dane." Edgar, too, was a general favourite in his own
country-s-a bold hunter, an unerring shot, and a pleasant
companion : the country Gentleman were delighted with his
society, while his tins, figure, dark eves, and expressive fea-
tures,,never failed to procure a gladsome smile of greeting
from their daughters. At college, also. he had been extremely
popular, and, without having by any means the character of a
herd-reader, had taken considerable honours—his wit, viva-
city, warmth of heart, and chivalry of character, making him
as much beloved there as he syas.in his own neighbourhood.
But Edgar was too proud to study for any profession, and,
being too poor to lead a country life in a !Danner suited to
his own and his neighbours' ideas of the dignity of his family,
he broke up his little establisment at Kildane, and proceeded
to London, without having any settled object in doing so,
beyond the necessity he conceived himself to be under—of
leaving home. His friends, however, thought differently, and
his departure was no sooner known in the county of C--
than it was on all hands asserted, that O'Donnell was gone to
England to marry an heiress.
Edgar was well received in London. He had the advan-
tage of being related to several families of distinction then
in town, through whom he obtained an easy introduction to
the leading circles of the Metropolis, and being neither of an,
age, nor by nature, ill-disposed to festivity, he entered freely
and willingly into all the gay scenes which were thus opened
to him. Agreeable and polished manners, as well as a hand-
some person, he seemed to have inherited as a hirthrighf ; -and
these combined with a highly cultivated mind, au exquisite
taste, and a lively and gay humour, fitted him well for becoming
a man of fashion, and gave him, in an eminent degree, the
power of pleasing. But Edgar could not conceal from him-
self that in many a quarter there was a guarded jealousy of
his intimacy; that he never danced or waltzed with a lady
having the slightest pretension to be considered an heiress,
but a prudent mother or cautions father regerded him with a
look of uneasy watchfulness; and that however much he
might be admired, and his society to a certain point, culti-
vated, it was evident. that the brand of his family had been
set upon his brow, and that the handsome Irishman was
universally believed to he a fortune hunter. The knowledge
of this Edgar et first only laughed at, for, in truth, he was
by no means worthy of the character; but, ultimately, it
became a fruitful source of annoyance to him ; he began to
think that.his intimacy was avoided in a greater degree than
it really was. Ile became morbid and unhappy, occasion-
ally even peevish and irritable; and the change in his spi-
rits and manner neither escaped observation nor comment.
Some affirmed that he was in love—hut that, for a fortune
hunter, was extremely improbable; others said he had lost
his property—hut that again, for a person who was supposed
to have no property, was even impossible; the gosgips were
at fault, and Edgar, unknown to himself. was fast becoming
an object of general attention and interest.
One evening, at the Countess of M—'s, Edgar was
leaning listlessly against one of the pillars of the saloon, tor-
menting himself with the reflections to which his mind had
become a prey, when he perceived that he had been regarded
for some time with a look of considerable attention by a
young ladv—a stranger to hitn—at nogr,at distance from
the place where he stood. Her et es were as dark and lus-
trous as his own; and when their glance met, there almost
seemed to he a sympathy between them; her hair was of the
most perfect jet, and falling in rich clusters over her neck
and shoulders, gave an appearance of girlishness to her slight
but exquisitely moulded figure; and although her features
were somewhat irregular, they had a charm in their expres-
sion which well repaid their want of -harmony. She smiled
at the remark of some one near her, and never had Edgar

seen a sweeter smile, or a more heautlful plav of featut7es.
The sparkling black eye—the parting lips disclosing the
whitest teeth—the perfect brightness of look, as it unrest rain-
edly indexed each passing emotion—gave ;t Strikink effect to
her whole countenance, and Edgar was sufficiently aroused
from his lethargy to inquire the name of the lady whose
appearance had so much interested him. lie soon learnt
that she was the daughter of a General Manners, whose
brother had lately died in India, leaving an immense fortune

however, of whom Edgar
to one of his nieces—not to her,
inquired—but to her sister, a lady some years her senior, and
by no means possessed of equal charms, 4, By heaven !
am glad she is not the heiress," be involuntarily exclaimed,
with some bitterness of tune, an expression which was either
overheard or repeated, as it quickly reached the ears of Emily
Manners herself; who heard it with a blush : but soon after
she left the saloon, and, somewhat to the mortification of
Edgar, did not return again that evening.
Not many days after this, however, Edgar met Emily at
one of those quiet evening parties whet e every body is brought
into the immediate society of each other, and as he was not
aware that the expression he had made some nights before
had been reported to her, he was at no small loss to account
for a slight embarrassment which he perceived in her man-
ner, when they were introduced to each other: but this soon
disappeared, and Edgar was much delighted with her con-
versation, as he had before been struck with her beauty,
There was a vivacity and naivete in her manner, which to
him had an irresistible charm, and were well calculated to
call forth the engaging qualities of mind and character with
which he was so eminently endowed. He seemed, indeed.
to forget that their acquaintance was but of a few hours' ex-
istence, and spoke with a natural ease and freedom which
perhaps few men under similar circumstances would have
ventured to assume; but it was evident that Emily was
neither displeased nor offended with his manner; and Edger,
at parting, began to find that his mind and feelings were be.
coming engrossed with matters very different froth those
which had lately sounpleasantly occupied Ora),
Emily was now frequently met by young O'Donnell, and
as his nature was ill suited to disguise of any kind, it soon
became generally known that he was her admirer, a circum-
stance which greatly surprised many who had -forintd ideas-
of his character, to which such an event was altogether irre-
concilable. But the world is seldom deceived without having
its revenge in some way or other, and Edg,tr, as well as the
lovely girl whom he now passionately loved, became the sub-
ject of many invidious remarks.
"'Twill he a fine match," said one, " between an Irish
adventurer and a penniless bride—l really wonder what Ge-
neral Planners thinks of the matter."

v" Perhaps, after an," said another, "it may be the. eldest
sister to whom young O'Donnell is. really paying his ,ad_
dresses. Rely upon it, he is not of a family to play a fool's
game in matrimony."
" Be that as it may," observed a third. " is it not a glaring
piece of imprudence, on her part, to flirt as she does with
O'Donnell. To be sure he seems to be a pleasant sort of
young man, and all that, but in my opittion Emily Manners.
is carrying matters much too far."
But these, and similar remarks, were little heeded by the
parties who were the subjects of theth. Edgar was happy by
Emily's side, and she, on the other hand, hardly sought to
disguise the pleasure she found in his society; while, to add
to his felicity, he had been fottunate enough to obtain the
regard of General Manners, who now, as the
.12th of August
was fast approaching, gave Lima pressing invitation tospend
a few weeks grouse shooting, on an estate which the General
had in Wales, and for which he was about to set out with his
family, an invitation which, we need hardly add, young
Edgar willingly accepted.
" How lovely is a sunset in this romantic country of yours,
my Emily," said Edgar O'Donnell to the fair gill that hung
upon his arm, as they wandered together by the banks of the
Wye, one soft Autumnal evening, a few weeks after the
period to which we have above referred. " How impressive
is Nature's stillness amid majestic objects like those which
surround us. It is the hour, too, which the poets say is the
fitting time for a tale of love; and, Emily, I ens going to
prove its virtues."
" Nay, Edgar, that you have done already," replied the
maiden, raising her soft black eyes to his.
" Yes, my Emily; but it may be what I must now com-
municate will need every aid which love can supply. I re-
proach Myself that I have not spoken, or, indeed, even
thought of it before. Emily, when you promised to become
my bride, you knew nothing of my worldly means; but it is
now my duty to tell you what they are, that you may know
the full extent of the sacrifice you make. But my task is a
painful one; and before I proceed, promise me, my Emily
that I have your pardon for having delayed its performance
so long."
" I will, on one condition."
" Name it, Emily."
" That you will pardon me for having delayed to make a
similar disclosure to yourself."

" The c✓mtnissioo is granted; but it seems a needless one."
" Say not so. I have concealed from you, and, by the in-
dulgence of my sister 4 from the world also, that tvhich many
ladies ate. glad to publish. "Iwas a whim—a caprice—call
it what you will; but I resolved never to be known to the
world as an heiress."
" An heiress, Emily?",
" I was my uncle's favourite, and early knew that his
wealth would be mine ; but that knowled gave•me but little
pleasure: on the contrary, it was sometimes" the source of
pain, as it awakened fears that the possessions and the pos-
sessor would be confounded together. But nu more of this
now. Have I your forgiveness, Edgar ?"
Emily, you have stripped us of laurels. I imagined that
I was the first O'Donnell who had nut been----"
" Been what, my Edgar ?" •

" We have no name for it in Ireland; and to use the term
applied to it in England we consider the highest breach of
good breeding. Trust me, dearest Emily, the title will be
freely conferred upon me in London."
" It cannot be one of reproach, Edgar, if it be applied to
you."
" In truth, it is somewhat of that nature, but ifs patent
reaches not the bride; and whatever. may be the opinion of
the world, Emily Maiiners shall never have cause to regret
that she gave het hand to a roan ne hunter.' "

A GOOD PARLIAMENT MAN.—" I think," said a f4rnler,
" I should make a good Parliament Man, for 1 use their lan-
guage. I received two bills the other day, with requests for
immediate payment; the one. I ordered to be laid on the
table—the other to be read that day six months !"