The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-01-06 00:00:00

Ezek. xxxvii

." Isa. i

GLANCES AT EVERY DAY LIFE
(For the Liverpool Standard.)

NO. 1.-THE LONDON SEMPSTRESS

CHAPTEN

It was near!), midnight, on one of those dull, dreary
nights, which the month of November and the climate of
England can alone produce, and which are seen and felt in
all their heart-depressing discomfort only in the courts
and alleys and lanes of the outskirts of this vast metropo-
lis, whose dingy loneliness is unbroken by the glare of
nd shoplights, or the hurrying tread of the plea-
eeking crowd. The scene of our sketch
localities—one of those desolate
cc, or the metropolitan inhabi-
the busy and wide main tho-

sure or the money-1
is laid in one of tl
places, of which th
tant himself

, a 3 he tra

roughfare, could scarcely imagine the existence within a
few hundred yards of the display of wealth and eager vita-
lity which meets his eye at every step. It was nearly
midnight. The wind, as if tired with careering all day
amongst thos • dilapidated chimneys, and in and out of
those pent-up and sur.less abodes of human wretchedness
and crime, or awed by the pall of" darkness visible" which
hung over the scene, mucking the feeble attempts of the

occasional lamp to pierce its blackness, seemed sobbing
itself to sleep ; and the dismal silence was unbroken ex-
cept by the occasional closing of a shutter or a casement,
or the sound of footsteps, as some houseless or belated be-
ing crept shivering by, to a casual shelter or perchance a
home—alas! we never hear the deep-toned bell of St.
Paul's swinging its solemn midnight chime through the
still busy and joyous streets of the city that we do not
think of the thousands of the struggling population whose
ear it reaches, who can boast of no home, and to whom its
invitation to rest and slumber is a mockery—who at this
hour are seeking a temporary lurking place in empty
houses or in wretched sheds, or huddling from the cold in
corners of deserted courts, or lairs only fitted for the
beasts ! At this hour, and in such a locality, we need not
specify it, for there are hundreds such within ear-shot of
London's proudest marts of wealth or giddiest scenes of
pleasure—a female figure emerged, with feeble and falter-

teps, from the door of a halt-closed shop, of the
class termed in the metropolis '' chandler's shops ;" and,
proceeding up the nlrrow street or lane, at whose corner
it was situated, entered a house of miserable exterior, and
closed the door behind her. Into this house, or rather
into a small room at the back of its uppermost story, by
courtesy styled a third fllor, but more properly a garret,
we propose to introduce the render. _

ing too

Imagine, then —for to many such a habitation for
human beings is only a thing of ima4ination—imagine the
creaking and nearly worn-out staircase surmounted ; and
enter with us the wretched " third. floor back," in which
the female, to whom we have above referred, has just
lighted, by the aid of a luciter—a fire for her at midnight,
where there is nothing to boil or fry, would be a luxury
not to be dreamt of—the tallow dip whose purchase, and
the necessity of that purchase, drove her to encounter the
cold, suFpicious eye and the harsh words of her creditor
of the chandler's shop. A poor room it is. Its small
window, when you look through its cracked and curiously
patched panes in daylight, presents to the eye a costnora-
mic view of chimney-pots and house-tops, smoke below
and sky above,—a vision which only tells you that you are
on earth, and yet not enj.)ying its glories and its beauty ;
and that there is a Heaven on high, which to poverty, sur-
rounded by the temptations to which poverty—London
poverty—is subjected, seems as difficult of attainment as
it would be to climb from those dizzy roofs to the blue
ether which opens above. It is dark, however, now—
pitchy dark. Within that wretched room is the world
of the poor tenant who inhabits it ; and not altogether
comfortless is that confined and cabined world. Its fur-
niture—if it is not a mockery to call the few dilapidated

articles which it contains "furniture," is arranged with
an eye to neatness and taste, and is scrupulously clean.
The little truckle bed, which occupies one corner, and
contains apparently a sleeping child, may not be of the
softest down ; yet it has a wholesome look. The chairs—
there are three—are of the most homely description, yet
bear marks that they are not unacquainted with bees' wax
and turpentine, or some similar cosmetic; and the three-
legged deal table, upon which are disposed sundry para-
phernalia which betoken the calling of its proprietress, is
white as deal top and legs can be scrubbed.
Nor is the appearance of the occupant herself out of
keeping with the endeavours manifested to make the best
of her miserable lot,—though out of keeping with the re-
sult of those endeavours she is. In age she appears about
one or two-and twenty, althoudi care and suffering have
perhaps imprinted upon her features the marks of more
years than she has passed over. Her eye is dim—what
will not candle light and tears effect to change the brightest
eye ?—and yet from its blue depths there is a soul which
beams out, irrepressively beautiful, like the spirit which
looks down from an April sky, which has just freshened
the thirsting powers with its soft weeping. Her cheeks
are worn and fallen, yet still lovely—more lovely that the
sad hectic of a consuming disease is flushing them ; and
her figure—though frail and bent from its youthful erect-
ness and elasticity, is still graceful. Her dress, it is true
is poor, threadbare. Could she think of dress whilst her
poor child—her all—who is now el=eping, unconscious of
its mother's sufferings and privations, her insults and toil
unrewarded, bent its young eyes upon her for food, which
she had not to give ?

One look at that child—one gentle kiss imprinted on its
forehead—one murmured strain, to soothe it into the sleep
from which the hot tear, which dropt with that kiss upon
its closed eve-lids, had half-stirred it, and the young mo-
ther has resumed her weary labours with the needle, and
is earnestly striving to complete the task, which must be
delivered and inspected before noon, in a fashionable
breakfast parlour in an elegant house in the outskirts of
the city ; and paid for, before the frame, which now toils
for its accomplishment, can be sustained with a meal.
Her childe?—there is a bun on the mantel-shelf, which
will suffic to keep hunger from that beloved one, whose

wants, in the extremity of her own privations, she has
never yet forgotten. And thus hour after hour passes
slowly on—oh, how slowly !—und as chime after chime
peals out from a hundred steeples—a kind of life in death
that chime in the night hours—an announcement to the
wakers in a sleeping world that time goes on although we
" take no note' —tbe poor sempstress was roused anew to
more incessant efforts, although her eyes grew dimmer at
each successive reminiscence, and the wandering thoughts
grew more unruly and shrunk more frequently from the
irksome task of attending to, and directing, the motions of
the still busy fingers.

And whither wandered those unruly thoughts in their
half-dreamy state? Far—far back they wandered, and to
a scene—how different from that lonely attic prison !
They sped away to the years of girlhood—to the days of
happy innocence, ere she who now sate wearing out her
young life with unrequited labour had been beguiled.
They brought before her tear-dimmed eves the loved fea-
tures of a mother, now sleeping in the church-yard of her
native village—of a father, bowed to the earth with the
shame of her disobedience and fall—of friends, who would
now pass her by as a thing to he shunned and loathed—
of lovers who had since blessed their fate that they had not
been united to one whom temptation had proved so frail.
Oh! men, men—how loathsome must ye be in the eyes of
Him, who formed ye to be the stay and support of erring
and weak woman, when ye thus look down with undying
scorn upon the wretched victims of your own deceits!
Surely that unhappy one, toiling through the long and
lonely night for the support of the fruit of her misplaced
love, and the shame which it brought her, is not a thing
so low as to be beneath your contempt, when she is not
below the pitying care of the Father of all ! Yes, the
thoughts of that poor beguiled girl have borne her in
fancy, and almost in reality, beyond her hapless lot; and
by her native streams, upon her native hills. in " the old
house at home," and even in the church of her native vil-
lage, she is for a few passing moments of unalloyed hap-
piness, once more a bounding, careless, and sinless girl.
Oh! the glorious, buoyant, godlike spirit of youth, in
whose undimmed eyes all the changeful features of earth
and heaven—their hill and valley, woodland and plain,
gushing stream and bounding torrent, sunlight and cloud—
are alike beautiful ; for whose ears and heart every bright
fountain has a voice, every rill a story, every flower a lan-
guage ; to whose glowing fancy every breeze. that whispers
its happiness to the trembling leaves, or signs round the
ivied ruin—every hurricane which bends the forest, or
lashes the ocean in wrath—every star which looks down
from the blue night•heaven, and every cloud which sails
over its vast expanse—have a dreamy life, a beauty not of
earth, and suggest visions, whose fantastic shapes, gor-
geous or mournful, cling to us in after years, dimly and
imperfectly, whilst we strive in vain to bug them once
more to our hearts, and to gaze upon them again in their
pristine and unearthly loveliness :—would that it were
given to us more frequently in this world of strife and pain
even in fancy to revel in youth's light, and shut out from
our vision for awhile the ghastly realities which surround
us, even as that fair young being whom we are contem-
plating is now forgetting, amidst the wildering mazes of a
dream of happy childhood, the toil and suffering endured
day by day in this, her dreary solitude! But it may not
be. Such blissful forgetfulness comes seldom ; and from
that poor unfortunate it has vanished already. A murmur
from her child, as it stirred uneasily in its bed, has dis-
pelled the dream, and presented in its stead, as in " the
swift elision of a thought," the panorama of her fall, fr m
happiness and innocence to her present fate, and the dark
reality which is before her. A miserable awaking !
Hour after hour has sped ; and still, still those thin and
weary fingers ply at their unfinished task. At length the
dawn slowly, and as if unwillingly, creeps through the
murky atmosphere which hangs around the awakening
city, and a small, attenuated hand is raised from that lit-
tle truckle bed, as its infant occupant wakes from its happy
slumbers, and begins that daily outpouring of innocent
prattle, which beguiles and saddens, by turns, the waking
hours cf its fond mother. Another hour of toil, and her
dreary task is done; and, with an aching heart and feeble
worn-out frame, the poor sempstress prepares to set out,
through the now busy streets of the city, with the produce
of her night of labour.

_..,=._
VAIIIETIES

WlSDOM.—Wisdom is toe composure of the soul ; and
as in war steel is better than gold for use, so wisdom is
better than wealth. The chief business of a wise man is
to distinguish what is good, and to show what is other-
wise.—Socrates.

FIFTEEN steamboats make a mile, is, according to a
recent traveller, one of the recent improvements made by
our America• English brethren in mensuration, the west
river steam• boats being about three hundred and fifty
feet long.
The eye has five tunics to guird it against danger. The
first is like a spider's web—the second is like a net—the
third is like a berry—the fourth is like a horn—and the
fifth is the cover or lid of the eye. Here is guard upon
guard, resembling the various ways providence hath to
secure us from harm. Hence the five cardinal virtues.

PETTICOATS IN MEXICO.—Every lady in Mexico, not-
withstanding the heat of the climate, wears from seven to
eleven petticoats, stiffened with canvass to stand out like
a balloon ; yet the fair wearers will pass straight through
a crowd with the greatest ease, because they are elastic.—
Times.

POPERY, THE PROBABLE CAUSE OF GIBBON'S DIS-
LIKE TO CHRISTIANITY.—Perhaps (observes Mr. Suard)
it will not be difficult to trace in the impressions from
which a conception of his " Decline and Fall " arose, one
of the causes of that war which Gibbon seems to have de-
clared against Christianity, the design of which neither
appears conformable to his character, little disposed to
party spirit, nor to that moderation of thought and senti-
ment which led him in all things, particular as well as
general, to view the advantages as well as evil conse-
quences. But struck with a first impression. Gibbon, in
writing the " History of the Fall of the Empire." saw in
Christianity only an institution that had placed vespers,
barefooted friars, and processions, in the room of the
magnificent ceremonies of the worship of Jupiter, and the
triumphs of the Capitol.
STATISTICS OF ROYALTY.—The Geneological Alma-
nack of Saxony, for 1816, jnst published, gives a list of
all the sovereign houses of Europe. which consists of 683
members, of whom 536 are males, and 327 females.
Among the sovereigns of Europe there are twenty, in-
cluding the rope, who have no male children, five who
have married wives of a different reigions persuasion from
their own, three who profess a religion different from that
of the majority of their subjects, four who are the last of
their race, and four who:are natives of a different country
from that over which they reign. These are the Kings of
Hanover, Sweden and Norway, Belgium, and Greece.
The reigning families in which there are the most male
members are the princes of Lippe, who number thirty-
eight; of Austria, in which there are twenty-seven ;
Liechtenstein, twenty - five ; Vvurtemburg, nineteen ;
Prussia, fourteen ; and Bavaria, eleven.
CHRISTIANITY THE TRUE CIVILIZER.—Does it ap-
pear that civilization alone, with its intercourse and
traffic ; its arts and its useful' science s; its town-
crowded industry, and its disorderly peopling of wilder-
nesses; its hurry and impatience of restraint; its in-
tensity and individual will, and its contempt uf authoritv ;
its uncontrollable sway of the masses ; its unlooked for
upturns and reverses; ins passionate pursuit of moment-
ary advantages, and its appetite for such gratifications as
may be snatched in all haste—does it appear that civiliza-
tion alone (Christian influence not considered), is likely
much to promote the personal and home felicity of the
millions it is summoning into life ? Judging of what is
future from what we see around us, dare we look to mere
civilization as worthy to be trusted with the moral or eve❑
the physical well-being of the human family, and with the
guardianship of the generation next coming up ? Dare
we, if we had the infant human race in our arms—dare
we turn ourselves to that care-worn personage, our mo-
der❑ civilization, sitting at her factory gate, and say to
her, ' Take this child, and nurse it for me?'—lsaac
Taylor.

DEATH OF R AtErGir.—Thursday, 29th October, 1618.
This morning, if Oliver, as is probable, were now in town
studying law, he might be eye-witness of a very great and
a very strange scene : the last scene in the life of Sir
Walter Raleigh. Raleigh was beheaded in Old Palace-
yard ; he appeared on the scaffold there " about eight
o'clock" that morning; "an immense crowd," all Lon-
don, and in a sense all England, looking on. A cold hoar-
frost'', morning. Earl of Arundel, now known to us by
his Greek marbles ; Earl of Doncaster (" Sardanapalus
Hay," ultimately Earl of Carlisle) : these, with other
earls and dignitaries, sat looking through windows near
by; to whom Raleigh, in his last brief manful speech,
appealed, with response from them. He had failed in
finding Eldorados in the Indies lately ; he had failed, and
also succeeded in many things in his time : he returned
home with his brain and his heart " broken," as he said ;
and the Spaniards, who found King James willing, now
wished that he should die. A very tragic scene. Such a
man, with his head grown grey, with his s'rong heart
" creaking"—still strength enough in it to break with dig-
nity. Somewhat proudly lie laid his old grey head on the
block, as if saying, in better than words, " There, then !"
The sheriff offered to let him warm himself again, within
doors again at a fire. " Nay, let us be swift," said tta-
leigh ; " in a few minutes my ague will return upon me,
and it I he not dead before that, they will say I tremble
for fear." If Oliver, among " the immense crowd," saw
this scene, as is conceivable enough, he would not want
for reflections upon it.—Cromwell'sLetter's, by Carlyle.

STEAM A CAUSE OF OUR INSECURITY AGAINST IN-
, YASIONT.—When Napoleon congregated his great army of
invasion at Boulogne, which was so long looking with
wistful eyes in the direction of our sea-girt isle, his sa-
gacious mind led him to see difficulties in the enterprise,
which, combined with other considerations, caused it to
be abandoned. He knew the vigilance with which the
British shores were guarded ; he knew the uncertainty
which must attend the attempt of a large fleet of sailing
vessels, to attempt a landing at a given place in a given
time; he knew that if fifty vessels made sail from any
part of the coast of France to any port in England, the
probability was, that not five would be able to effect a
landing at the same tide; he knew that a powerful con-
centration of force might be effected upon the menaced
point, before any serious mischief could be done ; and that
a baffled French armada might ()lily result in augmenting
our insular security, and scattering to the winds the proud
invaders ; and he, therefore, wisely withdrew his powerful
squadrons, dispersed his collected vessels of war, and di-
rected his mighty resources and his energetic mind to
continental objects. But. had he the same certainty which
might now be calculated upon of effecting a sudden de-
scent upon our coast, of which the first notice might be
the landing of one hundred thoasand men upon some
point where we were unprepared to meet them, we may
depend upon it that this vast army would not har• re-
sembled " the old cat in the adage," and that an attempt
would be made to bring the war into our own coui Sy,
from which very disastrous consequences might be appre-
hended. We, therefore, entirely agree with Lord Rane-
lagh, that it is high time for us to prepare for a state of
things against which neither our insular position nor our
maritime superiority can any longer afford us sufficient
protection.—Dublin University Magazine.

This festival is' celebrated by -the whole Western
Church. Pope Julius 1., in the fourth century, is said to
have directed the Nativity, and Epiphany, or Manifesta-
tion of Christ to the Magi, to be celebrated on distinct
days. The Greeks still keep Epiphany with the Birth of
Christ, on Christmas-day. From the circumstance of
this festival being held twelve days after Christmas, it is
called Twelfth-day. It was formerly also styled The
Feast of Kings (in reference to the supposed regal dignity
of the Wise Men), a name which in Spain it still retains.
The customs of this day, though various in different
countries, yet agree in the same end, to do honour to the
Eastern Magi. In France, one of the courtiers was for-
merly chosen king, and waited upon by the real sovereign,
and his nobles, at a grand entertainment. In Germany
they observed nearly the same custom in cities and acade-
mies. At our own universities, not many years ago, and
in private entertainments, it was usual to give the name
of king to one of the company, and to honour him with
mock homage. "In every family," says an eloquent
writer, alluding to the Twelfth-day of the olden time, "a
king was chosm, who ruled for the day." This choice
was usually made by means of a bean found in a piece of
divided cake. Mr. Horace Smith thinks this mode of
perpetuating the remembrance of the Wise Men arty
have been partly borrowed from the Roman Saturnalia,
when the masters made a b..nquet for their servants, and
waited upon them ; and partly from the Roman custom
of drawing lots, or beans, for the title of king, when the
fortunate party was declared a monarch of the festive
circle, over which he exercised full authority until they
separated. Allusion has been made to the Twelfth-night
cake, in connexion with the ancient usual way of choosing
the Twelfth-night sovereign. The ancient cake was com-
posed of flour, honey, ginger, and pepper. Mr. Fosbroke
says that it " was full of plums, with a bean in it for the
king, and a pea for the queen, so as to determine them
by the slices. Sometimes a penny was put in the cake,
and the person who obtained it ecoming king, crossed
all the beams and rafters of the house against devils."
The custom of choosing a king and queen on Twelfth-
night, has never been wholly left off in England. A writer
in 1744 says : " After tea yesterday, a noble cake was
produced, and two bowls, containing the fortunate chances
for the different sexes. Our host filled up the tickets,
the whole company, except the king and queen, were to
be ministers of states, maids of honour, or ladies of the
bed-chamber. Our kind host and hostess, whether by
design or accident became king and queen. According
to Twelfth-day law, each party is to support their charac-
ter till midnight." "At present," writes Mr. Brady,
at the beginning of the nineteenth century, "the honours
of king and queen, and others of a festive nature, intro-
duced to heighten the jollity, are determined by the draw-
ing of folded slips of paper, on which are inscribed these
ephemeral distinctions, though the practice of drawing

beans is yet preserved in some few districts. Every one
knows that the custom of eating Twelfth-cake, and draw-
ing "characters," is still retained in London and some of
the provinces.

In France the Twelfth-cake is plain, with a bean, and
the drawer of the slice containing the bean is king or
queen. There is no other drawing, and consequently the
sovereign is the only distinguished personage. In Nor-
mandy they place a child under the table, which is covered
in such a manner with the cloth that he cannot see what
is doing ; and when the cake is divided, one of the corn.
party, taking up the first piece, cries ont, " Fabe Domini
pour qui ?" The child answers, " Pour le bon Dieu;"
and in this manner the pieces are allotted to the company.
If the bean be found in the piece for the " bon Dieu,"
the king is chosen by drawing long or short straws.
Whoever gets the bean chooses the king or queen, accord_
ing as it happens to be a man or a woman At the close
of 1792, in the French Revolution, the Council General
of the Commons at Paris ordained that " La Fete de
Rois" (Twelfth-day) was thenceforth to be culled " La
Fete de Sans-Culottes." To this nominal change the
French consented, but they would not resign the festival.
" While the statue of Marat," says Cliateaubriand,
" usurped the place of the image of S. Vincent de Paul,
while people celebrated all those festivals the anniversaries
of which are marked in our calandars as days of eternal
grief, many a pious family secretly kept a Christian holi-
day, and religion still mingled a small proportion of joy
with a sea of affliction. Simple hearts cannot recollect,
without emotion, the happy hours when whole families
assemb'ed round their cakes, which recalled to mind the
presents of the Magi. The infirm grandfather, confined
all the rest of the year to his room, made his appearance
on this festive occasion. His grandchildren, who had
long anticipated the expected feast, surrounded his knees,
and made him young again with their affectionate vivacity.
Joy beamed from each face, and every heart swelled with
transport; the festive apartment was unusually decorated,
and each individual appeared in his best clothes. Amid
loud bursts of merriment, the happy company drew lots
for those royalties which cost neitl et sighs nor tears; and
oftimes an artifice, which heightened the mirth of the
subject, and drew complaints fr..m the queen alone,
transferred the highest dignities to the daughter of the
house, and the son of some neighbour. lately arrived from
the army. The young people blushed, embarrassed as
they were with their crowns; the mothers smiled; the
fathers made signs to one another, and the grandfather
drank his glass to the prosperity of the new queen.
"The pastor, who was present at the festival, received
the first portion, styled the portion of the poor, to be dis-
tributed among them, with other gifts. Diversions
handed down from days of yore ; a ball, at which some
aged domestic performed the part of first musician, pro-
longed the pleasures of the festival till late at night ; ard
the whole company nurses and children, farmers, servants
and masters, joined all together in the sprightly dance.
" These scenes were formerly repeated throughout all
Christendom, from the palace to the cottage. And what
a succession Of happy days ! Christmas, New-year's day,
and Twelfth-day. At that time the farmers renewed their
leases, the tradesman was paid his bills; it was the time
of marriages, of presents, and of charity; the companies,
fraternities, courts of justice, universities, corporations
assembled according to the ancient Gallic custom; the
infirm and indigent were relieved. The obligation you
were under to receive your neighbour at this season,
made you live on good terms with him all the rest of the
year."

ARTESIAN WELLS.—The simple well has been known
and used from the earli-st periods for procuring water.
In ancient times it was raised from these pits by means of
a vessel let down by a rope or chain, and hence the ex-
pression of drawing water. Modern science has greatly
improved this simple machinery by the introduction of
pumps of various kinds. But a still more remarkable ap-
plication of science has been made in the general intro-
duction of what are named Artesian wells. They are so
designated from the province of Artois, in France, where
they have been in use from the twelfth century. They
have also b en long known to the Chinese, who employ
them in some of the central provinces for procuring salt
water, from which they condense the salt by fires of na-
tural gas which rise from other similar holes. The prin-
ciple of Artesian wells will be readily understood from the
illustration lately used. Were we to suppose two bowls,
one within the other, and the interval between them full
of water, it is evident that on a hole being pierced in the
bottom of the inner one the water would flow up through
it, and as fluids in connected vessels always stand at the
same height, or, as it is commonly expressed, seek their
level, were a tube placed in the hole, the water would rise
to the same elevation in it as between the vessels. Now,
as formerly mentioned, valleys or extensive basins occur,
in which the rocks and the water contained in them are
disposed in a similar manner. Thus London stands in a
basin of tertiary rocks, consisting of beds of sand and
clay, nearly horizontal in the centre, but rising up all
round to the chalk hills in Surrey, Hants, Berks, Buck-
ingham, and Hertford. The chalk itself forms somewhat
of a similar basin, and, like the beds of sand, is very per-
vious to water. When, therefore, the London clay is pe-
netrated to one of the reservoirs of water, it rises up
sometimes to the surface, at other times even above it.
Many wells of this kind have been formed of late years,
in which water hai been found at various depths. At
sheerness it was obtained at three hundred feet in the
London clay or tertiary beds, and rose above the surface;
but at Fulham the bore had to be carried about seventy
feet into the chalk before a successful result was attained.
In the gardens of the Horticultural Society at Chiswick,
a plentiful supply was secised at three hundred and thirty
feet. But in the grounds above Chiswick no water was
met with in the tertiary strata, nor until the chalk had
penetrated to a great depth ; but at six hundred and
twenty feet a source was reaced which rose to four feet
above the surface.—Hogg's Weekly Instructor.
MAY FIELDING'S " GENTEEL MAMMA."—May ut-
tered no word, good or bad, but sat quite still, with her
eyes cast down; and made no sign of interest in what had
passed. The good lady her mother now interposed : ob.
servinz, in the first instance, that girls were girls, and
byegones byegones, and that so long as young people were
young and thoughtless, they would probably conduct
themselves like young and thoughtless persons I with two
or three other positions of a no less sound and incontro-
vertible character. She then remarked, in a devout spi-
rit, that sbe thanked Heaven she had always found in her
daughter May, a dutiful and obedient child ; for which
she took no credit to herself, though she had every reason
to believe it was entirely owing to herself. With regard
to Mr. Tackleton, she said, that he was in a moral point
of view an undeniable individual; and that he was in an
eligible point of view a son-in-law to be desired, no one
in their senses could doubt. (She was very emphatic
here) With regard to the family into which he was so
soon about, after some solicitation, to be admitted, she
bel.eved Mr. Tackleton knew that, although reduced in
purse, it had some pretensions of gentility; and that if
certain circumstances, not wholly unconnected, she would
go so far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to which
sbe would more particularly refer, had happened differ-
ently, it might perhaps have been in a possession of
wealth. She then remarked that she would not allude to
the past, and would not mention that her daughter had
for some time rejected the suit of Mr. Tackleton; and
that she would not say a great many other things which
she did say at great length. Finally, she delivered it as
the general result of her observation and experience, that
those marriages in which there was least of what there
was romantically and sillily called love, were always the
happiest; and that she anticipated the greatest amount of
bliss—not rapturous bliss; but the solid, steady going ar-
ticle—from the approaching nuptials. She concluded by
informing the compan' that to-morrow was the day she
had lived for, expressly ; and that when it was over, she
would desire nothing better than to be packed up and dis-
posed:of, in any genteel plasle of. burial. As these re-
marks were quite unanswerable : which is the happy pro-
perty of all remarks that are sufficiently wide for the pur-
pose : they changed the current of tise conversation, and
diverted the general attention to the veal and Ham-Pie,
the cold mutton, the potatoes, and the tart. In order
that the bottled beer might not be slighted, John Peery-
bingle proposed to-morrow : the Wedding-DAY : and
called upon them to drink a bumper to it, befoet ha pro-
ceeded on his journey.—Cricket on the Hearth.

(From Frazer's Magazine.)
Whatever may be the opinions of men out of doors,
there is no disputing the fact that the present House of
Commons is, by a great majority, made up of members
who stand pledged to their constituences to protect the
agricultural interests. The Lords, likewise, are, almost
to a man, opposed to any further interference with the
Corn-laws ; indeed, there needed all the skill of Peel and
all the moral influence of Wellington to lead their lord-
ships forward, even amid the dangers of 1842, to the point
at which they no longer make a secret that they are de-
termined to stop. Are we to suppose that Sir Robert
Peel, knowing all this, knowing that it was the agricul-
tural constituencies which brought him into office—his
fixed duty scheme and nothing else having sent Lora
John Russell into opposition—are we to suppose that Sir
Robert Peel, with these truths patent before him, has
ever meditated a step so wild as the recommendation by
the cr awn of an unconditional and immediate repeal of
the Corn-laws ? The idea is quite monstrous. Sir Robert
may regret, as many other good and wise men do, that
such laws ever had existence. He may wish that it were
possible to get rid of them, and cherish the belief that
their repeal would effect changes neither so ruinous as
their advocates apprehend, nor so advantageous for com-
merce as is assumed by their assailants. But he cannot
fail to be aware, that to repeal them in the lump is not
possible, except on peril of the very existence of the con-
stitution. Now Sir Robert Peel may be as resolute a po-
litician as you please, but he is not a revolutionist. He
is not prepared to array one House of Parliament against
the other, even if he were sure of carrying the Commons
along with him, far less to coerce the Lords by pitch-
forking or threatening to pitchfork 100 members at the
least into the chamber. Yet, without some such pro-
cedure, we question whether any minister would be able
to carry a bill for free trade in corn ; for we know that a
good hundred peers at least would be necessary .to equal-
ize the strength of parties in the upper house of parlia-
ment.

Again, it is no secret to Sir Robert Peel, that however
free he may stand in his own person from all pledges one
way or another, his party accepted him for their leader,
and followed him with an enthusiasm which has no
parallel in the history of political warfare—for this single
reason, that they put faith in him as the advocate of the
views—fiscal, religious, and economic—which they them-
selves entertained. Had their confidence in regard to
these matters been less surely fixed, there would have
been no rally worth the name from the defeat of 1833.
Doubtless the incapacity of the Melbourne administra-
tion to carry on the detail business of the country must
have made itself felt sooner or later; and, in the common
course of things, the powers of the executive would have
passed from one set of hands to another, till somebody
was found of sufficient judgment to wield them. But
there would have been no such industry or ready expen-
diture of time and money in watching the registration
courts, and seeing that the lists of voters were full, as
has brought us round, in point of public feeling, well-nigh
to what we used to be ere the Reform Act passed. Sir
Robert Peel cannot forget this; no, nor the one great
rallying cry which ach'eved it. He has tried his party
pretty well, it must be confessed. They have given up
much ror him in various ways—much of Protestant pre-
judice, since it is the fashion so to speak of that which
our fathers used to call a holy principle; consenting to
his Charitable Bequests-bill, to his Maynooth Endow.
ment-bill, and bearing with astonishing fortitude the li-
beralism which dismisses gentlemen from the bench of
magistrates on no other grounds than that their attach-
ment to the constitution in Church and State is excessive.
They have seen the amount of protection offered to the
British corn-grower cut down to a figure which no other
statesman than he could have presented, and are suffer-
ing, some of them not very patiently, under the pressure
of an income-tax which they owe to his brildness. Let
them have reason to apprehend that he means to go far-
ther, and there will be an end at once to their confidence.
And then where is he—ay, and where is the country ?
Sir Robert Peel knows all this. He only regret that the
public temper should be what it is. He may feel the re-
straints of party gall and hamper him sorely, and, in his
more earnest moments, he may come to the determination
of breaking through them. But he cannot break through
them. Neither he nor any other man living can govern
this great country except by a party, for the attempt to
do otherwise will overwhelm in one common ruin both
the individual who makes it and the constitution.

Lastly, Sir Robert Peel has some knowledge of human
nature, and does not, therefore, need us to tell him that
men who cannot be brought to fight for anything else,
will fight like lions for their breeches pockets. Now the
agriculturists may be right or they may be wrong, but it
is past dispute that the conviction has established itself
among them, that the repeal of the Corn-laws would re-
duce the incomes of landowners by one-third at the least.
besides throwing an immense quantity of the land of the
country out of cultivation. We know, indeed, of our
own personal knowledge, many tenants-at-will, the occu-
piers of enormous farms, who are so satisfied of the mis-
chievous working of a repeal measure, that nothing would
induce them to accept at this moment leases from their
landlords. Their argument is this, "We are doing well
enough now ; and, if we could be insured against any fur.
ther tampering with the Corn-laws, we should be happy
to engage to pay the same amount of rent that we are pay-
ing now, I,r as many years as our landlords might pro-
pose ; but, whether rightly or wrongly, we are convinced
of the impossibility of competing, on our present terms,
with the foreign grower, and are, therefore, prepared to
throw up our farms the moment the ports are opened,
and to live in idleness till things find their level." Now,
with such a prospect before them, is it reasonable to ex-
pect that the landlords of England will consent, whether
they he peers or commoners, to an immediate and total
repeal of the Corn-laws? Can they afford to exist on
two-thirds of their present income, making good the en-
gagements to which their estates are liable? and if they
could, who will undertake to guarantee even two-thirds
of their income from the outset ? No one. A sudden
opening of the ports, an abrupt repeal of the Corn-laws,
would tend as surely to anarchy for a while as the wiping
out of the national debt; and five years of anarchy,
through the throwing up of leases or the breaking of te-
nants—and we cannot anticipate less—would suffice to
make beggars of the representatives of all the best families
in the kingdom. Can it surprise us to learn that the
landlords are determined to resist a sudden repeal to the
death? and seeing that in their ruin the ruin of the pea-
sants, at all evens, must be involved, is the driving of such
a body of men to desperate measures a contingency to be
thought of without horror?
Whatever changes Sir Robert Peel's plan may involve
—that is, supposing him to have a plan in preparation—
we are on these grounds satisfied that he cannot contem-
plate either the unconditional or the immediate repeal of
laws amid which all the domestic arrangements of all the
landed proprietors and cultivators of the kingdom have
for the last five-and. thirty years been formed. And we
come to this conclusion, not only from contemplating the
effects which such a procedure must have upon the:social
condition of a very large portion of our population, but
from a perusal of the arguments of those who endeavour,
by fair means and by foul, to push the change onwards.
Whatever our private opinions may be in regard to the
wisdom of a protective system in connexion with the corn-
trade, we can never consent that the policy of England's
prime minister shall be forced upon him by the Anti-
Corn-Law League; and we are inclined to believe that
the majority of the aristocracy—of the Whig aristocracy
not less tban of the Tory—are of our way of thinking.
Messrs. Cobden and Bright, in the fervour of their anti-
cipated triumph, let out a little too much for the good of
the cause which they advocate, at the great Covent Gar-
den meeting. The English people entertain a profound
respect for the hereditary peerage ; they would not ex-
change so noble an institution even for Mr. Cobden's
services, were he called to the Queen's councils, and in-
vited to bring in an abolition-bill as Secretary of State for
the Home Department to-morrow. Besides, the people
of England must be more gullable than we take them to
be, if they are persuaded to believe that an order of things
can be very injurious to trade and manufactures under
which the great apostle of the repeal of the Corn-laws has
contrived to work his way from the condition of a poor
farmer's son in Sussex, to the ownership of mills, the
profits on which are rated to the income tax at an amount
so enormous, that we are really afraid to particularise it.
And now a word or two to all right thinking men,—to
those among our readers who value the country's well-
being above such minor considerations as the question
who shall or who shall not preside in her majesty's coun-
cils, and be called prime minister. We witnessed with
regret the unbecoming haste with which immediately The
Times' rumour got afloat, some who ought to have known
better proceeded at once to condemn and denounce the
recreant premier. This was neither just nor wise. Sir
John Tyrrell, and other equally respectable, though some-
what hot-tempered gentlemen, have no ground as yet—
none with which we, at least are acquainted—for coming
to the conclusions at which, with extraordinary precipi-
tation, they arrived. They would have done better had
they waited, as we recommended others of the party to
do, till Sir Robert Peel and his colleagues—who continue
in office, and their friends who quit it—shall have made
their explanations. If, indeed, The Times be correct in
its assumptions, then each man, whether a member of
parliament or not, will be free to take his own line. The
unflinching advocates fer protection will, of course, resist
whatever attempts are made to diminish or in any other
way to interfere with it ; while such of them as take plea-
sure in dealing out hard names and bitter words may,
with a better grace than now, give license both to their
pens and to their tongues. At the same time one point
there is peculiar to the crisis at which we have arrived,
which seems to demand their serious attention. Sup-
posing they defeat Sir Robert Peel, and drive him out of
office (no hard matter to do, it would appear, seeing that
he would have voluntarily resigned, if he had been per-
mitted), are they prepared with any one to take his place,
who shall prove acceptable to the crown, and of sufficient
weight, personal or otherwise, to go down with the con-
stituencies ? They cannot look to the Whigs, that is clear.
The Whigs have done their best to form an administra-
tion, and failed ; neither, we presume, will they conde-
scend to make terms with Mr. Cobden, or Mr. Bright, or
Mr. O'Connell. Will the Duke of Richmond be invited
to form an administration ? and if he do, will the country
support him ?

We cannot tell, but this much we venture to hope, that
the actual measures of the existing cabinet will be found
much less alarming than the sanguine on either side an-
ticipated ' • and, at all events, we advise our readers to
suspend their judgments, as we here undertake to suspend
our own, till the mystery in which the proceedings of the
last month are involved shall be dispelled ; and there are
some sure grounds on which either to support or condemn
the man whom, for ten years or more, the great Conser-
vative party has, both in opposition and in power, honoured
as its champion. _

One of the severest penalties to which criminals in
Holland were, in ancient timesacondemned, was, to be
deprived of the use of salt.

That' Rome must be broken to pieces is clear, and the
Germans are leading a powerful band for its destruction ;
that she cannot, and will not, be built up again by the ho-
nesty of those who have recently joined her communion
is equally clear to any one that is at all conversant with
her policy, or who will just remember how nece,sary it is
to her interest to crush all the motions of spiritual life
which might effect her standing, or weaken her absolut-
ism in rule ; whilst, in the secession of so many good and
excellent men, a striking lesson is taught us all in the
power of Romish subtlety to pervert an honest mind
when once it is yielded to her fascinations : a still greater
lesson remains to be taught to those who would follaw
her, if only they will wait to receive it, of that which she
makes of her victim when once in her power. A broken
heart or spiritual apathy—these are the alternatives that
await by far the greater portion of those who are gone
over to her. Be this as it may. howeves, both the move-
ments of which we are speaking prove that there is
throughout the world a spirit at work, whose office it is
to break up and to destroy ; in the exercise of whose fear-
ful power it is almost matter of indifference whether the
household he enters be sound or unsound in the rule
which it professes to follow; and from whose deadly vi-
sits nothing may hope to escape unscathed. " Judgment
(it is written) must begin at the house of God;" and,
though the secession of the Oxford men will not help
Rome, it is doubtless doing its work in the fulfilment of
His word as respects England.
There are some who consider Ronge as the Luther of
the nineteenth century : there are others who can discern
nothing in the movements of which he is the leader but
lawlessness, infidelity, and rationalism. These opinions
have, each in their way, much truth ; but do not express
the whole of it. Ronge has before him a work, the result
of which will probably be the shaking of Rome to its very
centre. In as far as this effect is conceived, that which
he is doing may bear some resemblance to th, labour of
the great reformer; but there the resemblance ceases.
Neither in the character nor powers of his mind, the
ground he takes, nor the object he has chiefly in view,
can he be compared with Luther, who, however the Ro-
manists may seek to blacken his fame, was certainly the
great man of his age, and moved to his work by higher
and holier motives than can be discovered in anything yet
put forth by Ronge. On the other hand, whilst we firmly
believe that the stand which ee takes is more rationalistic
than religious—for it is for political and intellectual free-
dom, rather than for spiritual liberty, that he is contend-
ing—we are persuaded, that those who will see nothing
but lawlessness arid infidelity in this movement have en-
tirely shut out from their minds the part which Rome has
borne in bringing it to pass; and this, not because they
have overlooked it, but because they have such a tender-
ness in dealing with her worst errors as amounts, in point
of fact, to an adoption of them. Now, if our hatred of law-
lessness hinder us from an unqualified approval of what
Rouge is doing, common sense and justice demand that
we pass a right judgment upon the miserable arid profane
policy that has prepared the way for his work. Whatever
may be the nature of Ronge's reasonings in his justifica-
tion, the facts upon which he grounds them are before all
the world ; and he must be blind indeed who does not
see in them Rome unchanged and unchangeable, unscrip-
tural and tyrannical : as grossly determined to force her
lie on yuor ignorance, and make money of its fully, as
ever ; and here we are not speaking of any disputable dog-
mas, but of the jugglery of Bishop Arnoldi and his coat,
of which there sae many duplicates ; and, which, more-
over, has been clearly proved, by two professors of the
University of Bonn, to be nothing more than a stuff and
manufacture of the middle ages! We would recall to
the mind of our readers, that in Boxley in Kent, there
was a famous crucifix, called " the rood of grace," the
figure upon which, by machinery, was made to turn its
head, and move its eyes; and, when the monasteries were
dissolved, the springs by which these movements were ef-
fected were discovered, and shown to the people. At
Hales, in Gloucestershire, the blood of Christ was said to
be contained in a phial of crystal; this the people some-
times saw, and sometimes did not. When they could not
see it they were taught that they were the subjects of
God's anger; but when it was visible, of his favour. A
like discovery was made—the phial was found to be
opaque on one side and transparent on the other; and
the blood itself, the blood of a duck renewed every week.
At a more recent period, when the French occupied Na-
ples, the pries's, in order to excite the people against the
enemy, showed them the phial containing the blood of St,
Januarius. The blood was, to all appearance, congealed ;
a proof, as the people were well taught to believe, that the
anger of God and his saint was kindled' against them,
This coming to the ears of the French officer in com-
mand, he sent a request that the blood might liquify as
usual, accompanied with a gentle hint of unpleasant con-
sequences if it did not.. It is almost needless to add that
St. Januarius became propitious. Why do we recall these
instances amongst the many which history records to the
minds of our readers? Simply that they may know that
the same dishonesty and wicked craft, which could coun-
tenance the " rood of grace " at Boxley—the deceitful
phial at Hales—the false blo id of St. Januarius at Naples,
is as ready as ever to uphold the virtues of a detected im-
posture, if only there be credulity enough left to yield a
fitting profit in its use. If ally one d-ny this, we would
refer him for the proof to Belgium, to Spain, to Italy, to
Germany—even to France Wherever Romanisoa has a
strong-hold may be found innumerable instances of mi-
racle-working relics, not only of those to which time and
tradition may have lent a certain show of sanctity, but of
those which modern authority has, for the first time, pro-
nounced to be real and efficacious. It is not many
months ago (it was in the autumn) that the Pope sent, as
a present to the Bishop of Bruges, certain bones, with-
drawn from the catacombs of Rome, pronounced by him
to be bones of St. Leon, a Roman soldier, marty red in
the third or fourth century. These bones were enclosed
In a waxen image of the martyr, representing him as dead,
with a gash in the throat. This image was clothed in
the worst possible taste—in the tawdry silks and spangles
that usually make up the costumes of a minor theatre—
and with as little resamblence to the apparel of a Roman
warrior of that period as to the court dress of Louis le
Grand. It was laid on handsome cushions, enclosed in a
glass case, richly ornamented with gilded carving, and
thus exposed to the gaze and veneration of many thou-
sands, who crowded, for the space of a week, to the show.
Priests there were and plates for money, in course ; and
every aid that ecclesiastical authority could give to force
the minds of the gazing crowd into a posture of worship
and adoration. Many of the poor people believed that
the figure which they saw was really that of the martyr,
miraculously preserved, nor did any take pains to unde-
ceive them ; whilst the liberal journalist of the town
poured unmeasurable contempt on the whole proceeding,
and desired to be informed how these bones had lasted for
so many ages, and by what process the very bones of St.
Leon had been extracted from the catacombs—how, in
short, their identity had been ascertained. It is not impro-
bable that these bones of St. Leon will become to Belgium
what the relics of Ste. Philomene are at present in France
—the objects of intense adoration, and possessing, in the
estimation of the faithful, virtues of wonder-working effi-
cacy. The priests, both high and low, lend their influ-
ence in bringing their people to this relic worship ; and,
whatever they may sap in controversy to the contrary, do,
in fact, as we have seen a thousand times, countenance it
in its grossest forms. What are we then to think ?—that
they believe the tales they teach, or suffer to be taught,
their people? In this case, what hope can there Le of a
Church, whose ministers have not advanced in Christian
intelligence one jot beyond the grossness of the darkest
age ? Or is it that they do not themselves believe these
tales, yet use them as expedients for the maintenance of
their influence ? If it be so, then is their priestcraft a
craft of the most miserable and dishonourable kind : and
woe to the men, who, in these days have entered their
communion, hoping to find their ideals of ecclesiastical
excellency realized ! Their own honesty of purpose will
avail them little in the midst of a system, whose compli-
cated, but exquisitely wrought machinery adapts itself to
every possible case wherein the energy of spiritual life
may break forth to crush it, if it manifest itself in any
form of scriptural and Christian truth.

AMERICAN LADIES. —ln Broadway, the principal
street in New York, but not near so fine as Regent-street
or Oxford-street, the characteristics of the Americans as
a people are hardly to be distinguished, as nearly one-
third of the passengers are foreigners. But in walking
leisurely through the other principal streets, the physical
conformation of the true-blooded 'Y ankee, as he calls
himself, begins to be developed. The men have no shoul-
ders; they are tall and lathy, like corn-stalks, and under
the nape of the neck they are sometimes as narrow as a
female. The ladies of New York have been through time,
which means about fifty years, so fdmous for their beauty,
that I know I shall be accused of envy, hatred, malice,
and all uncharitableness, if I say that it is entirely a mis-
take. But the truth must be told, and I have seen more
pretty women in London in one day, than ever I saw du-
ring all my rambles in the United States. That promi-
nent point of female loveliness, and which the .vhole Eng-
lish race so much excel in, is entirely wanting in the
American ladies ; they are as fiat as their own horrid sea-
coast; and though they artfully endeavour to conceal this
national deficiency by a peculiar, newly-invented, and
really very ingenious corset, yet it will not do ; oar ima-
ginings return unsatisfied, and our worst suspicions come
back confirmed.—Rubio's Rambles in the United Slates
and England.

THE SLIDING SCALE.—But some, who affect to ap-
prove of protection, find fault with the present form and
rate of protection—in short, with the sliding scale, which,
they allege, throws the whole corn trade into confu,ion
and uncertainty. A fixed duty, they say, would be more
likely to produce equality of price--Poland would then
know what to sow—Arkansas know what to ship—we
should have a steady market and a regular supply. This
argument we have heard used by grave persons of reputed
common sense; but to us it seems the most notorious and
superficial nonsense ; and the only thing that can he said
in its favour is, that it happens accidentally to be directly
in the teeth of all the doctrines and statistical facts of the
free trade philosophers. Corn is an article of which the
natural produce fluctuates from year to year, and the in-
trinsic price from month to month ; the problem is, to
bring these natural and uncontrollable variations to some-
thine of a level price in the market—for the purpose of
keeping wages, and all the various relations of life con-
nected with wages (in wages we include every kind of in-
come from labour of the body or the mind), in such a
state of approximate level or gradual variation as may not
dislocate society—for the stomachs of labourers or arti-
sans, and of their wives and children, will not obey the
seasons, and must be fed nearly to the same amount in the
bad years as in the good—in the month of plenty as in the
month of dearth; and this can only be accomplished by
inviting the aid of foreign coin at a rate of duty sliding
along the scale of prices—say—as by the present law—ls.
when the price is 735.-20 s. when the price is 505., and
so a shilling increase of duty for a shilling lowering of
price. The prevailing mistake on this question is the
confounding the duty and the price—the true view being,
that a fixed duty enhances theffuctuations of price, while
ajitzctuafing duty tends to a /wily of price.—Quay. Rev.

RESULTS OF THE RAILWAY FEVER

(From Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.)

The process of breaking up is already becoming curi-
ously manifest in some of these companies. As illustra-
tive of the real character of the railway mania, and
indicative of the nature of the " consequential sorrows,"
it deserves a glance in passing. Internal discussions are
breaking out among directors, and their co-adjutors
hurrying them before mayors and bailies, preparatory to
more regular campaigns in the courts of law. Newspapers
are sending in their advertising bills, pressing for payment,
and boards are auditing Clese bills, calling for vouchers,
quarreling with rates of charge. Again, operative survey-
ors are clamourous for wages, and secret .ries or treasurers
are sometimes hard up for ready cash. Lastly, parties to
whom scrip has been allotted have not always taken it up,
and now refuse to pay deposits for a concern which they
believe, or affect to believe, cannot go on. Lastly, some
boards, to accelerate the payment of deposits, have reduced
the amount of their calls; impatient holders, who have
been precipitate in paying up, ask to have the excess re-
funded,—which, out of an empty treasury, is not always
an easy matter. Out of the discussions to which these
applications and rejections give rise, come tart remarks
and bitter rejoinders. One angry man goes with quiet,
concentrated malice, at white heat, to consult his lawyer;
another rushes, like a boy that has been soundly thrashed,
into a mayor's court, to tell his " pitiful st,,ry." The
newspapers, as usual, blow the coals, for every " excite•
merit' promotes sale. Tne public mutters, " try the
responsibility of directors in a law court," and Mr. D. W.
Harvey, and other deeply staked directors, respond to the
hint by advertising a Defensive Association. The genius
of Westminster Hall laughs, crows, and claps its wings ;
nay, it did so months ago. In July, the Law Magazine
coolly discussed the various points likely to arise when
this crisis came : the hoodiecraws croaked their consulta-
tions anent picking bones in the ears of their unheeding
victims.

All these things indicate the real character of the rail-
way delusion. Cold-blooded, predetermined swindling
has had little part in it. All the "stags" in Capel-court
might have been seen at one time at the height of the
fever in any one of the crack eating-houses of the neigh-
bourhood. There they resorted day after day—the Jewish
variety of the Caucasian type predominating in their
features—with silk and velvet lapels, rings. and brooches,
coats of the newest cut, and trousers of the newest shade,
yet dirty and greasy withal—slobbering turtle and cham-
pagne. There were not enough of them in all to take up
the shares of half-a-dozen lines. The panic came and
they disappeared like flies when the frost sets in. " Tom,"
we said to the waiter at the
panic, " what has become of all these flue gentlemen ?"
" I don't know, sir, out they were the best customers in
my time." Only one of them has revisited the glimpses
of the day—shockingly "seedy," and asking below his
breath for a basin of mutton broth.

Oh no, these poor devils had little to do in getting up
the steam. The standing army of swindlers has not been
increased. The swell mob of trade has only taken advan-
tage of the railway throng and crush to do a good stroke
of business. The mischief has been done by amateurs.
Railways have been regarded as gold mines used to be : if
a railway company could but be " got up," no misgivings
haunted its framers about the long and dreary period
during which it must be all outlay and no return. Mana-
ging directors, without money themselves, counted upon
the deposits ; shareholdors who were penniless, were sure
they could find others who had pence to buy them out.
The company was there, and the money was sure to come
after. Confidence, dash, generosity, were sure to com-
mand success. So crack engineers were engaged at large
salaries, and received carte blanche for their surveyors
and surveying patties. Advertising agents were instructed
to be active and liberal ; they boasted of their instructions
to editors and proprietors of newspapers. The newspapers
puffed and charged like heroes; the directors and secre-
taries bragged to the newspaper writers, surveyors com-
posed epics on the capabilities of their lines, and share-
holders listened to the lay with the vague, swelling,
dreamy delight of opium-eaters under the influence of
their drug. All concerned assumed that the nominal
capitals of all the projected companies would be actually
forthcoming ; all counted upon the share in the plunder
which they had in imagination allotted to themselves,
being as sure as if they already held it in gold. But pay-
day has come, and with it a scramble, and there is net
enough for all. And like angry fools they are going to
make the matter worse ; for, instead of fairly dividing
what is actually there—all having been fools and deluders
alike—they are calling in the iawyers to say who is to have
the oyster.

THE PAN IC.—The following smart note is attached to
a recent review of the railway panic :—" To those who
can imagine no efficient substitute for gold, we would
suggest periwinkles. In Africa, and Ihroughout a large
part of Asia, gold is not of greater value than coteries is
certain quantities. In the East Indies, among the na-
tives, 100 cowries are equal to a penny. The time Will
come when a periwinkle, or an oyster-shell panic, will be
considered as sensible. a thing among civilized communi-
ties as a gold panic.

PROTECTION OR NO PROTECTION.-But there are
higher and more consolatory considerations than evert
these. The fate of the people of England is not in the
hands of any Cabinet—it is in their own. N) alteration in
the Corn Laws can be attempted, we presume, with any
prospect of success in the present house of Commons.
A dissolution must probably take place if the \%
Leaguers should succeed in forming an administration--•
and a dissobvion would be in itself a great evil and a con-
siderable increase of the difficulty, for it would throw'
back all the railway projects, derange additionally the
money market, and put off for two or three more months
the employment of the Irish poor on those works which
will afford the best relief to their temporary distress.
But sooner or later we must arrive at a general elections
and the great question must be solved by the people them-
selves. We do not forget the infatuation under which
destructive parliaments have been from time to time
elected, but the question now at issue has been 'so long
before the public mind that we hope there is less to be
dreaded from popular delusion than on most former oc-
casions. We know that we—the advocates or protection
—are the majority of all the most important constituen-
cies. 'We are satisfied that we have in our own energieS
the means of a certain triumph. The question must 10
clearly stated, and not embarrassed by personal divisions
or theoretical distinctions. It is this :—is the whole sys
tem of protection to British industry to be abandoned."'
not as to agriculture alone—but every branch of manufae"
tore? Are we to have not only Polish wheat—but Ger;
man linens and woollens and cutlery—Saxon hosiery sn"
nts/ins—Belgian cottons and cloths, and fire-orrns":
Dutch spirits, Swiss watches, American reprints, Frenc°
china, gloves, shoes, silks, paper, besides an infinil
variety of small articles which support a multitude fa
poor artisans, all of whom would be undersold by tu
foreigner? We cannot believe, that if the real state °t
the case, the inevitable scope of the principle, he fullf
explained to the more intelligent of the manfacturil
population, that even Manchester or Stockport wool
return advocates for a system which, even if confined t 0
corn, has no object but to effect low wages, and which 1:
its result w onld reduce nine-tenths of the manufacturer'
of England to downright unemployment and starvatietl.
The short issue is

Protection or no protection;
protection to wages as well as rents—protection to cotton,
and w oollens, as well as wheat and oats—protection 'd,
he town as well as to the country—to the workshop 0 '''
be farm t—or ROIN TO ALL ;—Quarlerly Review.

Jan. 6, 1846.

golitpping *it trlligurt.

DISASTERS AT SEA.
Loss OP AN EAST INDIAMAN.—LEWES, Monday.—From the
letters received here this morning, it appears there has been a
dreacfal storm a'ong the south-east coast. On Saturday night,
the 27th instant, the gale increased to a perfect hurricane, and
several vessels were damaged doubling Beachy Head, About
One o', lock on Sunday morning, a large Dutch East Indiaman,
canoe unknown, came ashore on the coast off Pevensey, a little
to the north-east of the Head, the wind blowing tremendously,
and the sea i unning mountains high. Eighteen of the crew, out
of two or three and thirty on board, succeeded in landing in
their own boat, and it appeared, from their statement, that the
ship was bound from Batavia to Amsterdam, laden with a valu-
ab!e ea• go cf coffee, sugar, and indigo. The greatest apprehen-
sions were entertained for the captair-of the vessel, who, steady
to the trust reposed in him, remained nn board with the mate
ane •

twelve or thirteen of the crew ; but it was not until Sunday
forenoon that any assistance could be afforded them. Their
situation during that dreadful night, on such a shore, with a
gale from tiie S.S.W., and the sea continually breaking over
their Rift' ed vessel, was truly awful. In the forenoon of Sunday
however, a small p easure-boat belonging to Pevensey, named
the Rebecca, manned by two pilots, named Pierce and Wood,
and three of the coast-guard, named Oliver, Warnell, and
Plem'ag, put off to the assistance of the crew of the East India-
Man, and succeeded in reaching her, from the violence of the
gale, however, and the sea continually breaking over the wreck,
they were unable to effect their purpose, of bringing off the
captain and the remainder of the crew; but, with determined
perseverance, they lay by watching fora favourable opportunity.
This, however, did not speedily; occur, and about eleven the
life-boat from Eastbourne went to assist her. After a consider-
able delay, the remainder of the crew, with the master, were
taken on board the boat, with the exception of one poor fellow
Who teas lashed to the rigging, and whom it was impossible to
save. It is some consolation to believe, from the appearance of
the man and the position of his limbs, that he was dead when
the life-boat reached the vessel. Having been landed in safety,
it is gratifying to state that the poor fellows were supplied with
every necessary by two of the railroad contractors on the Lewes
and Hastings line; the officers and men at the coast-guard sta-
tion also ren 'ering every assistance.
During the gale of Saturday evening last, the schooner Sarah
and Mary, Edwards, master, laden with pipeclay, bound from
Poole to Liverpool, was driven on the L van Sands opposite
BFaumaris, and instantly sank. The crew having passed the
night in the rigging, were rescued, on the following morning,
from their perilous situation.
LOWESTOFT, Dec. 25.—0 n Monday, Lieutenant Roberts, R.N.,
commander of the Victoria, revenue-cutter, picked up at sea, a
Southwold pilot-boat, dismasted, with nine men in her. The
sea was running. so high at the time, th,t the pilot-boat
foundered immediately after the men were tßken out of her.
The poor fellows, thus saved from being wrecked, were landed
at Lowestoft.—Norfolk Chronicle

- - • , ,•••• v••• •-•(..
DISAPPEARANCE OF THE CAISSON ON THE GOODWIN SANDS.
...The following is the copy of a letter sent to Mr. Bush, C.E..
ne"fordr—" Dear sir,—Since I last wrote to you reporting
your light-house on the Goodwin :Ands being all right, I am
sorry to inform you that (this morning) I have had a good op-
portunity cf viewing the sands, th Downs being clear of ship-
ping, but your lighthouse has disappeared. From the circum-
stance of their being a large fleet of vessels in the Downs,
together with a thick atmosphere, I have not been able to see it
Since Friday last, and, therefore. I cannot exactly say when it
fell.—l am, sir, &c., W. B. Dean."—Dover Chronicle.

TUESDAY, DEC. 30.—Wind N.W.
Anal VED.— Earl Durham, —, from Alexandria—Josephine,
----, from China—Madagascar, —, from Bilboa—Susan,
from Laguna—Mermaid, from Madras—Alabama, Wise,
from Mobile—Palatine, Wilde, from Calcutta—Clifton, Inger-
toll, Walpole, Thomas, and &NIA. Eldridge, from New Orleans
Ann, —,ffrom Prince Edward Island—Eli Whitney, Dyer, from
Savannah—Ann, Holt, from St. John's, N.B —Spartan,
from Smyrna—Grazia, —, from Trieste—Dasher, from Villa-
viciosa—Frances Barclay, Wakeham, from Lima in gi days.

Kirkman Finlay, for Irombay ; Tani O'Shariter, for Sincapere;
Henrietta and Jane, for New Orleans; Tantativa, for Lisbon
and George. for Swincmunde, have put back.
Hectorina, Graham, from Dromore for this port was driven on
sh re at Formby, on the 2;th instant. !date drowned.
St. George, Hutchinson, from Saldanha Bay at St. Helena,
and sailed for this port on the 12th November.
Falcon, Malta, hence at the Cr -sf G

_ape of Goon lope.
John Bull, Craw.ord, sailed from ditto for Calcutta on the 25th
October.

Martha, Trelawney, sailed from ditty fir London on the 29th
October.

Lady Rowena, Cl.land, from Bombay at Simon's Bay.
D. B. Donbrot, hence at New Carlisle. •
Margaret Ann, hence at Newfoundland.
Isabel, Granby, from Patras at Zante, and sailed for this i:ort
on the 4th Decenil2er.
Spy. Farrant, hence for Corfu at Malta.
cti ve, Moor , hence at Gibraltar, and sailed for Genoa on
the loth 12Lcernber.

Hum t, Fulford, hence at ditto, and sailed for Malaga on the
22nd December.

Rei ovation, Hall; Myrtle, Norman; and John Peat, Cook,
hence at Lisbon.
Bridget Wade, saile.l from ditto for this port 18th December.
Stair, Houling, sailed from ditto for this port icth December.

tolohnung, scintag, from Darzig for this port at Ramsgate.
Tynwald. Metcalfe, from London for this port at ditto, with
loss of an anchor and chain.
Sardo Livia, Viale, from Genoa at Milford.
Mysore, Ward, from Singapore at Batavia.
Scotsman. Mearns, from Gmqantinople at this port at Lowe-
atoffe Roads.

GIBRALTAR, Dec. ;7.—The Pra• cis Romulus, Isquard, hence
for Malta and Alexandria, wus totally wi eel:cc' at Tetuan during
the late heavy gales, December 22. Pellicans, Peasante, (Sar-
dinian barque,) from Genoa to Liverpr)ul, which was stranded
tear Palmona River, on the Sth instant, has been assisted off,
after discharging a part of her cargo. Two vi.ssek are sunk at
the Tolmo this side of Tanfa.
CAPE OF Goon HOPE, Nov. s.—The Kyle, Alexander, from
Calcutta for Liverpool, was towed into St. Simon's Bay, on the
21Ith of October, leaky, and must discharge to repair.

WEDNESDAY, Disc. 31.—Wind S., fresh.
AnnivEn Anne Keppell, from Alexandria, E. Panthea,
and Siirlingshire,--, from Calcutta—Kate, Norman, trom
Newfoundland—Glasgow, Manson, from New Orleans—Massa-
chusetts (s) from New York—Emanuel, Burn, from St. John's,
N• B.—Wave, —, from St. Cues.

The Epaminondas, for Mobile, has put back, with loss of jib-
boom, tore and fore.topsail yards, main.topgal ant mast, &c.
and rails stove, having been in contact yesterday mornin:, off
the Calf of Man, with the Westmoreland, hence for Bahia; the
latter lost mainmast and bowsprit, and sprung a leak. She
bore up for Whitehaven
Lord John Russell, Locke, from Honduras, at Ballycotton
Pampero, Roberts, from the Clyde, at Batay.a
Athena, from Calcutta, at St. Helena
Harriet, Williams, and Emma, Winscr, hence at Newfound-
land

Minach, sailed from Trieste for this port 12th Dec.
Robert Preston, Williamson, sailed from Cads for this port
10th Dec.
LEGHORN, Dec. 20.—The Otter, Cox, arrived here from Liver-
pool l.ith instant, with considerable damage, loss of mainboom,
agars, sails, &c., having encountered very severe weather
VESSSLS SP-KEN.—England, hence for New Orleans, 25th
Nov. in lat. 20 N, long 23; Magellan, hence for Callao, 16th
Oct. in lat. 38 S, long. 49 W; Secret, hence for Valparaiso. 15th
Oct. in lat. 23 8, long. 97 W ; Conrad, Neill, hence for Valpa,
raiso, kbth Nov. in lat. 6 N, long, 23; Thomas Hunter, Ward-
from Bonny, for this port, 27th Nov. in lat. 8 N, long 24 W ;
Martha, 1r m the Cape of Good Hope for London, 17th Nov.
In lat. 3 S, long. 18 W' Quebec Packet, hence for Madagascar,
27th Nov. in lat. 3 N, long. 1g W "fexian, 24th Nov. in lat. 8 N,
long. 23 W ; Duke of Yon:, hence for Calcutta, 25th Nov. in lat.
9 N. long. long. 23 W ; Queen, hence for New South Wales,
26th Nov. in lat. 10, long. 25; Athena, from Calcutta for this
Dort, 16th Oct. in lat. 31 S, long. 38 E ; Derwent, from the
Silanritins for London, 20th Oct in lat. 28 8, long. 35 W ; Nau-
tilus, Ir .m the Mauritius for London, 21st Oct. ; Melissa, from
toMbay for this port, 30th Oct. in lat. 35 S, long. 21 E

THUM!) kY, JANUARY I.—Wind N.W. very fresh.
ARRIVED.—Henry, Smith, from Old Calabar; Elizabeth
Thornton, Li tie; Montreal, P ince; B. C., Bailey, and Pol
lock, from St. Joh , N.B.—Albanian; Windsor, from Zante—
Ealnuel Hicks, Osborn, from New Yolk—Oceanus, Higgins,
lino St. Cloud, Hatch, from New Orleans.

Esther and Jane, (smack) of Stranraer, laden with grain for
this port, sprung a leak, and went down off the Point of Ayr,
on Tuesday morning; master and crew saved
Joh,i Scott, for Jamaica; Sarah, for St. John, N. 8., with loss
„°filliboom and foreyard, and Peruvian, for Calcutta, have put
(lack

Richibucto, Reed, from St. John, N.B. at Cove
Celt. Jonett, from Bonny for this port, at Waterford, leaky.
Ilnd with loss of sails, &c. and ordered into quarantine, in con-
Sequence of sickness on board
Chase, Young, from Cadiz, at Falmouth
Zoe, and John Hullett, hence at the Mauritius
Ann, from Buenos Ayres, at the Mauritius
Messina, from Bombay for this port, was spoken lath ultimo,
al lat. 3, N. long. 31 W
HAVR E, Dec. 29,—Several casks of wine, which formed part
_of tn.' cargo of the St. David, (steamer,l from Havre for Liver.
L',ool. have been picked up on the coast of Fecamp, a part of a
uiP's wheel, much or. amented with copper, and supposed to
have belonged to the St. David. a trunk containing female
Wearing apparel, and the body of the engineer. haVe also been
Washed ashore
CONSTANTINOP/ a, Dec. 10.—The Ann Sophia, Gavin, from
~aganrog for Liverpoo , was lost on a reef off the Island of
‘ontali, 27th Nov.; crew and part of the cargo saved
NKWPORT, Dec 3°.—The Minerva, Rowlands, laden with
Iron for Liverpool, broke adrift, and was driven athwart the
'ridge knocked away her stem, and did other damage
RAVHIVGLASS, Dec. 31. The Westmore'and, from Liverpool
for Bahia, was driven on sh,,re near this harbour yesterday
afternoon, with loss of mainmast and bowsprit, having been in
Solli•ion (previously reported), and has unshipped her rudder.
she will be got off next springs, after being lightened.

NRIDAY, JAN. 2.—Wind W., fresh.
AnarvEn.—Flora. Reeves, Calloa—Victoria, Loady, and Re-
Deem Laguna—Water Witch, Struneek, Te:ceira—t'ampson,
butcher, Smyrna Sin Sembre, Corunna Regalia, Affleck,
Oirgenti, &c —Royal S.vereign, Freyer, Bombay.
._SAlLUD.—Spartan. Thompson, St. John, N.B.—Champlain,
altaller, Philadelphia— Martha, Snow, Boston Fanny Ann
%arrigues, Slaughter, Jamaica—Swan, Taylor; Charlemagn—
vales, and Frinck, New Orleans—Grace, Balillie, Port
.I?iliP and Sydney Matthew Pearce, White, Laguayra ,e.
Rattray, Savannah—Monarch, Percival, Shanghae—
visconde de Bruges, Avilla, Terceira—Anemone. Walker, Havre

Lady
Rebow, Becco, hence at St. Michael's—Monmouth,
2noil hence at Genoa—Manuella, Cucullo, hence at Malaga.
%iroddess, Lovering, hence at Madeira, and sailed for Arica 7th
ovenaber—Lintin, Gillman, hence at Madeira, and sailed lsth
tlVs±ovember for Calcutta—Charles Hamerton, Stancliffe, from
tvre at Madeira, and sailed 13th November for Trinidad—St.
Pneent. Shepherd, hence at Madeira, and sailed 27th November
i?E St, Vincent—Arab, Bishop, hence at Madeira, and sailed 4th
ecefrib,r for Barbadoes.
,Pranziska, Brendt, from Hamburg off Dover, for this port—
aZen, Harvey, from Constantinople; Diamond, Irvine, from
.e,a—James Wearne, Morton, from Smyrna, and Conquest,
Ellington, from Malta, at Falmouth.
_lCendal Castle, Rawlinson, hence at Gireson Dock, with loss
.rotemast, foretopmast, &c.—Hare, Lowry, hence at Glasson
'thick for Ulverstone, with loss of anchors.
the. December 30.—The Menapia, bound to Malta, and
Livia. bound to Liverpool, were in contact on the night of
27th instant, and both received damage.
s_tioLvusAn, Januar 1. The A ihambra, from Dublin to
Vann b, is beached in 11 hoscollyn Bay.

• SATURDAY, JANUARY 3.- Wind South, moderate.
tin:,.Rivrn —Constantine, Thompson, from New Orleans—
Ath_va. Massnrier, from Nassau—Melissa, lrom Bombay—
fllo '',from Calcutta— St. George, from Saldanha Thy
am It. Skiddy, skiddy, from New York—Thomas Hunter,
Bonny—Josephine, and Sunbeam, from Tampico—Bridget,
e from Lisbon—Royal Oak, Robinson, from Marseilles—
‘4l:l Tartar, Nicker, from V ana.

linrie
etta, hence at era Cruz
TS. Lawrence, Hodge, hence at Odessa
..::Ireassian Thatched, from Callao, at Plymouth
t'tevenson, from Smyrna, at Cove
yesta, Shearer from Syra ditto
Arrarat, Bank, from Marseilles, ditto
Camq or Campbell. of Jersey. for Rio Janeiro. was
han doned at sea, a complete wreck, Sth Nov. Two men were
IPstled overboard, the remainder were taken off by the Charles
Anterten, arrived at Madeira

SA/cm—Teaser, Gill, for Azores—Elora, Farran, St. Mi-
chael—Fanny, Wheeler, Cape Godd slope—Britannia, Bell,
Algoa Bay—Corinthian, M‘Phun, Shanglae—Kirkman Finlay,
Martin, Bombay—Cceurde Lion, Kendall, Jamaica—Agnes
Sophia, 1 uillian, St. Thomas —Ocean, De Ruyter, Hayti—lnd us,
M•Kenzie, Omoa—Royal Bride, Welch, Tobasco—Sisters,
Vickers, Gulf Mexico—Fidelia, Hackstaff ; Ashburton, W hite;
Ohio, Truman, for New York—Albanian, Crowell; Henrietta,
Foyle, for New Orleans—William Goddard, Potter; Harmony,
Jameson: Shoodiac, Griffin; Queen of the Ocean, Tilley, for,
Mobile Calcutta, Whitty, Savannah—Compton, Chapman'
Mary Kimball, Gregory, for Charleston—Southampton, Kelly,
Yarmouth, N.S.—Majestic, Wright, Gibraltar—Alpha, Vibert,
Seville—Sautativa, Lias, Lisboa—Charles, Simons; Espoir,
Zellein, for Ostend.

LYTHAM, Jan. I.—The Emilie, Radcliffe, from Liverpool for
Africa, on shore near this place, has discharged the greater part
of her cargo. The vessels and materials will be sold on the
beach.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 4.—Wind W.S.W. moderate.
ARRlVED.—Brewster, Crosby ' • Swatara. Brown • Oregon,
Cledden, and Manteo, Gledden, from New Orleans—Kilmazoo,
M•Cerran, from New York—American, Williams, from Virginia
—Mincarlo, Tregarthen ; Helen, and Neptune, from St. Mi-
chael's.
SAILED.— Hibernia. (steamer) Ryrie, for Halifax.

Conway Castle, Kerr, hence at Algoa Bay
Triton, Tuton, hence at Passages
Rapid, Zilmer, hence at Hamburg
Louise, Witt, hence at Bremen
Dalkeith, M'Kenzie, from Viana for Liverpool, at Ilfracombe,
assisted in -
Regina. Craighead, from Riga for Liverpool, at Deal
John Dugdale, from Sincapore, at London
Pursuit, Young, from Valparaiso, at Cove
Ellen Highfield, from Rio Grande, ditto
Blackaller, Watson, from Algoa Bay, at Mauritius

'stand, at Algoa Bay

Hepe, Carver, ditto ditto

CII-Elipouao, Dec. 39.—The Traveller, Taylor, from Liverpool
for Ipswich, ran on shore, on the Coast near Carteret, 27th
instant, but will probably be got off, and taken into the har-
bour; about one third of the cargo, salt, is dissolved

MONDAY. JANUARY s.—Wind N.W. to N. light.
ARRlVED.—Volunteer, from Savanilla —Brazil Packet, Birkett,
from Rid de la Hache—Rolla, Page, from St. Miehael's—Lydia,
Hormau, from Smyrna—lganazio, from the Mediterranean—
Enterprise, from Seville—Chase, Young, from Cadiz—Principe
Radali, Costa, fr m Naples—Mentor, Schroeder, from Stettin—
Lewis Charles, Wallis, from St. Ives—and Pacific, Williams,
and Gertrude, —, from Newport.

Jane, Packman, from Malta, at Cove
Ri David, Cafeiro, from Naples, ditto
John Hallett, Christopher, from Mauritius, off ditto
Odessa, Vaughan, from St. John, N.B. at Waterford
Statesman, Brian, irom Bonny, at Studwell Roads, with sails
split. and foremast sprung; sailed ist Nov.

MILFORD, Jan. 2.—The screw steamer Pearl, from London
for Liverpool, in coming up the harbour 31st Dec. ran into the
Livia, from Genoa to Liverpool, and carried away the latters
fore and foretopsail yards

LONDON GAZETTE.--TUESDAY, DEC. 30
PARTNERSHIPS DISSOLVED.
- - -

T. Jennings and D. Ford, BI ssoms-'nn-yard, Lawrence-lane,
Exeter, and elsewhere, common.carri rs—H. and C. Hollins,
Nether Langewith, Nottinghamshire, cotton spinners—S. W.
Jenkin, W. Da-iel, jun. and J. J. Tratbam, Liskeard, mine
agents—Hoyle, Lunn and Co. Huddersfield, cloth finishers; as
far as regards J. Lunn—S. Houldswotth and Sons, Wakefield,
hrokers—W. Jessop and Sow, Sheffield, Manchester, and New
. - -
Y- st--' f

ors, .eel manufacturers; as .ar as regards R, Jessop—W.
Handasyde and R. Bramwell, Cannon-street, London, corn.
mission agents—B. H. Green and W. E. Oldham, Winchester,
stockbrokers—lngram and Manger. Liverpool, coach builders
—Birch and Ormston, Aspall, Lancashire, cotton-spinners.

DECLARATIONS OF DIVIDENDS.
J Raleigh, T. S. Goode, and W. Holland, Manchester, mer-
chant.

J. Danks, Bi. mingham. wharfinger
W. Shaw. Stafford, saddler.

C, Timmis. Stone. Stafforc
T• H, Westmore, Worcester, grocer
J. Bourne, Bemmersley, Staffordshire, printer
J. Beet, Bradford, dyer.
J. Haigh, itlm-)ndbury, Yorkshire, clothier.

lint grin

BANKRUPTS.
James Brooke, Gooderstone, Norfolk, miller.
Benjamin Jones, City-road, London, draper.
Richard More and Benjamin William Blake, Norwich, coal
merchant.

George Jarvis Worsam, Great Mitchell-street, Old street
London, engineer.
Thomas Phiilips, Shrewsbury, hop merchant.
Benjamin Wood, jun. Leeds, wine merchant.
James, Lucy, and John Richardby Couien, Bradford, York.
shire, worsted spinners.