The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1853-11-08 00:00:00

VARIETIES.

ME MAN who was struck with astonishment caught
hold of a link in the chain of circumstances, and has
quite recovered.

"FIRST CLASS IN MUSIC stand up. How many kinds
of metre are there ?" " Three, sir ; long metre, short
metre, and meet her by moonlight alone."
SERENITY OF MIND 15 nothing worth unless it has
been earned : a man should be at once susceptible of
passions, and able to subdue them.
COME HERE, SONNY, and tell me what the four seasons
are." "Pepper, mustard, salt, and vinegar—them's what
mammy always seasons with." " Mary, put that boy to
bed; he is so sharp he will cut somebody.'
A LOVE SCENE.—Overheard and phonographically re-
ported by Frederick Phinephun :—" Phairest of the
phair," sighed the lover, " phancy my pheelings when I
phoresee the phearful consequences of our phleeing phrom
your phather's phamily. Phew phellows could have phaced I
the music with as much fortitude as I have ; and, as
phickle phortune phails to smile on our loves, I phind I j
must phorego the pleasure of becoming your husband.
Phairest Phrances, pharewell phor ever." " Hold, Pprank-
lin, hold !" screamed Phrances, " I will phollow you for
ever." But Phranklin had pilled, and Phrances phainted.
"THE SCHOOLMASTER AEROAD."—A letter, of which
the following is a literal copy, was received at the Retford
police-station a few days ago, from a tradesman at Wellow.
We ought to say that the scribe himself is a baker, other-
wise our readers might, perchance, fail to ascertain its
meaning :—Oct. 15-1853.—Sir hi sent to you the peck
And hark' peck Mechers And Beem to Bee Made Right
Pies to due them to day Plees to send the 2 pees of leed
Bak Ass theay was not weeghts theay was put in for to
Hay lowe for waste in Backin.—Polis Stasinon Retfor.
THE DEACONS "down east" have a bad practice of
snoring aloud whilst asleep in church, which appears to
disturb some folks here. The Boston Bee has the follow-
ing polite notice for one of them :—" Deacon —is re-
quested not to commence snoring to-morrow until the
sermon is begun, as some persons in the neighbourhood of
his pew would like to hear the text."
A YOUNG LADY'S DILEMMA.—At a temperance meet-
ing in London, lately, an incident occurred which occa-
sioned some mirth. In consequence of the remarks made
by Mr. Fry on the subject of courtship, a note was handed
up to him as follows :—" I have a lover who is a moderate
drinker, If I discard him, will you warrant me a tee-
totaller in his stead ?" After the laughter occasioned by
the reading of this had subsided, Mr. Fry advised the lady
by no means to discard her lover, but to use all her in-
fluence to make him a teetotaller. He thought that if she
used a little address, and exercised a little patience, she
would win her lover before 1853 expired.
ELOQUENCE OF A YANKEE THIINDERER.—One Paul
Denton, a Methodist preacher in Texas, advertised a bar-
becue, with better liquor than usually furnished. When
the people were assembled, a desperado in the crowd cried
out, Mr. Paul Denton, your reverence has lied. You
promised us not only good barbecue, but better liquor.
Where is the liquor ?" " There !" (answered the mis-
sionary in tones of thunder), and (says a Yankee contem-
porary) pointed his motionless finger at the matchless
double spring, gushing up in two strong columns, with a
sound like a shout of joy from the bosom of the earth.
" There !" he repeated, with a look terrible as the light-
ning (while his enemy actually trembled on his feet),
"there is the liquor which God, the Eternal, brews for all
His children ! Not in the simpering still, over smoky
fires, choked with poisonous gases, and surrounded with
the stench of sickening odours and rank corruptions, doth
your Father in heaven prepare the precious essence of life,
the pure cold water ; but in the green glade and grassy
dell, where the red deer wanders, and the child loves to
play—there God brews it ; and down, low down in the deep-
est valleys, where the fountain murmurs and the rills sing ;
and high upon the tall mountain tops, where the naked
granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-
cloud broods and the thunder-storms crash ; and away far
out on the wide, wild sea, where the hurricane howls
music, and the big waves roar the chorus, sweeping the
march of God—there He brews it, that beverage of life,
health-giving water. And everywhere it is a thing of
beauty ; gleaming in the dewdrop ; singing in the sum-
mer rain ; shining in the ice gem, till the trees all seem
turned to living jewels, spreading a golden veil over the
setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon ;
sporting in the cataract; sleeping in the glacier; dancing
in the hail showers ; folding its bright snow curtains softly
about the wintry world ; weaving the many-coloured iris,
that seraph's zone of the sky, whose warp is the rain-drop
of earth, whose woof is the sun-beam of heaven, all
checkered over with the celestial flowers, by the mystic
hand of refraction. Still always it is beautiful—that
blessed life-water ! No poison bubbles on its brink ; its
foam brings no madness and murder ; no blood stains its
liquid glass ; pale widows and starving orphans weep no
burning tears in its depths ; no drunkard's shrieking ghost
from the grave curses it in words of eternal despair !
Speak out, my friends ; would you exchange it for demon's
drink, alcohol ?" A shout like the roar of a tempest
answered, "No !"
A PYRAMID IN CALIFORNIA.—The Placerville (Cali-
fornia) Herald gives the following account of the dis-
covery of a pyramid in California :—A party of men, five
in number, had ascended the Colorado for nearly two
hundred miles above the mouth of the Gila, their object
being to discover, if possible, some large tributary from
the west, by which they might make the passage of the
desert, and enter California by a new, more direct, and
easier route, inasmuch as there are known to exist nume-
rous small streams upon the eastern slope of the moun-
tains, that are either lost in the sands of the desert or
unite with the Colorado through tributaries heretofore
unknown. They represent the country on either side of
the Colorado as almost totally barren of every vegetable
product, and so level and monotonous that any object suf-
ficient to arrest the attention possesses more or less of
curiosity and interest, and it was this that led to the dis-
covery and examination of this hitherto unknown relic of
a forgotten age. An object appeared upon the plain to
the west, having so much the appearance of a work of art,
from the regularity of its outline and its isolated position,
that the party determined upon visiting it. Passing over
an almost barren sand plain, a distance of nearly five miles,
they reached the base of one of the most wonderful objects,
considering its location, it being the very home of desola-
tion, that the mind can possibly conceive of, nothing less
than an immense stone pyramid, composed of layers or
courses of from eighteen inches to nearly three feet in
thickness, and from five to eight feet in length. It has a
level top of more than fifty feet square, though it is evi-
dent it was once completed, but that some great convul-
sion of nature has displaced its entire top, as it evidently
now lies a huge and broken mass upon one of its sides,
though nearly covered by the sands. This pyramid differs,
in some respects, from the Egyptian pyramids. It is, or
was, more slender and pointed ; and, while those of Egypt
are composed of steps or layers, receding as they rise, the
American pyramid was, undoubtedly, a more finished
structure. The outer surface of the blocks was evidently
cuttoananreggluiae,
rthatsurface gave
ftrheemsttroupcttuertotm. when complete,
the
present smooth or
present level of the sands that surround it, there are fifty-
two distinct layers of stone, that will average at least two
feet ; this gives its present height 104 feet, so that before
the top was displaced it must have been, judging from an
angle of its sides, at least twenty feet higher than at
present. How far it extends beneath the surface of the
sands it is impossible to determine without great labour.
Such is the age of this immense structure, that the per-
pendicular joints between the blocks are worn away to the
width of from five to ten inches at the bottom of each
joint, and the entire of the pyramid so much worn by the
storms, the vicissitudes, and the corrodinge of centuries, as
to make it easy of ascent, particularly upon one of its
sides. We !say one of its sides, because a very singular
fact connected with this most remarkable structure Is,
that it inclines ten degrees to ope side of the yertial or
perpendiettiar.

ADVERSITY Is A SCHOOL, in which both private per-
sons and public societies have learned the most heroic
virtues. _ _

A QUEER SOCIETY has been formed in Philadelphia,
called the " Broken-hearted Club." Its members are a
sad set of miserable dogs, who may have been used badly
by the world, and whose only consolation will be the re-
cital of their mutual sorrows.

METHOD OF WOOING AND WEDDlNG.—Marriage is
preceded by two other ceremonies, the first of which is
Thin Manock, Tagal words, signifying or meaning " the
cock looking after his hen?' Therefore, when once a
young man has informed his father and mother that he
has a predilection for a young Indian girl, his parents pay
a visit to the young girl's parents some fine evening ; and
after some very ordinary chat, the mamma of the young
man offers a piastre to the mamma of the young lady.
Should the future mother-in-law accept, the young lover
is admitted, and then his future mother-in-law is sure to
go and spend the very piastre in betel and cocoa-wine.
During the greater portion of the night, the whole com-
pany assembled upon the occasion chew betel, drink
cocoa-wine, and discuss upon all other subjects but mar-
riage. The young men never make their appearance till
the piastre has been accepted, because in that case they
look upon it as being the avant-courrier—that is, the
first and most essential step towards their marriage. On
the next day the young man pays a visit to the mother,
father, and other relations of his affianced bride. There
he is received as one of the family ; he sleeps there, he
lodges there, takes a part in all the labours, and most par-
ticularly in those labours depending upon the young
maid's superintendence. He now undertakes a service or
task, that lasts, more or less, two, three, or four years,
during which time he must look well to himself; for if
anything be found out against him he is discarded, and
never more can pretend to the hand of her he would
espouse. The Spaniards did their best to suppress this
custom, on account of the inconveniences it entailed.
Very often the father of the young girl, in order to keep
in his service a young man who costs him nothing, keeps
on this state of servitude indefinitely, and sometimes dis-
misses him who has served him for two or three years, and
takes another under the same title of pre'tendant, or
lover. But it also frequently happens that if the two
lovers grow impatient for the celebration of the marriage
ceremony, for "hope deferred maketh the heart sick,"
some day or other the young girl takes the young man by
the hair, and presenting him to the curate of the village,
tells him she has just run away with her lover, therefore
they must be married. The wedding ceremony then takes
place without the consent of the parents. But were the
young man to carry off the young girl, he would be se-
verely punished, and she restored to her family.— Twenty
Years in the Philippines.

RUSH ROADS IN AIISTRALIA.—Let me first state what
a road is. • It may be aptly compared to a geometrical
line; it has length without breadth or thickness. Ido
not say a straight line, for it is by no means the nearest
way between two points. A road is the most vile of sub-
lunary deceptions. A will-o'-the wisp is something; a
ship's track through the waves has a transient existence ;
but an Australian road is an abominable nonentity.
When you are told you cannot possibly miss your road,
be assured of the truth of it, for there will be no road to
miss ; look forward confidently to an agreeable night " by
moonlight alone," about which I could "tell you a tale,"
but that I don't like to be talking about myself. What
do you think of the following for a direction ? Squatter,
standing at his hut door, with one arm stretched out
before him, loquitur : " Take that rise on the other side
of the creek, and it will bring you on to an open plain ;
go straight on for about a mile, and you'll see a belt of
timber on your right ; make a cut through it till you come
to a swamp; go on beyond that for three miles, keeping
the sun on your right shoulder, and you'll see a large mob
of wild cattle ; leave them 9n your left, and keep on, head-
ing the gullies, till you come to a camping ground ; there
will be a flock of sheep somewhere in the neighbourhood,
and the shepherd will put you on the right track. You
can't miss it." Thank you, so much for roads. Not that
a creek is different ; not but that some creeks are roads,
and some roads are creeks—nay, I have ridden along a
plain level road that was a river. But, generally speaking,
a creek is different from a road. A creek is an indenta-
tion in the ground, into which, if it should happen to rain
heavily, water would probably run and remain there till
it is dried up. And in this consists the difference between
a creek and a gully ; the gully being more or less on a
slope, the water would not remain in it, but flow down
somewhere else. It is easy to understand, then, what a
creek or gully is (and a river is just the same, except that
you will seldom follow the course of a river for a mile or
so without meeting with a water hole) ; but the difficulty
is to know what is not a creek, or gully, or a river. You
may be told that, after passing two creeks, you will come
to a certain but ; and yet, in your humble and innocent
opinion, you may have erossed a dozen creeks, and not
have reached it. I am not yet deep enough in the mys-
teries to say when a creek (crick or crink, I think, must
be the correct orthography) is not a creek, and a gully (or
gull-ye) is not a gully.—Australian and New Zealand
Gazette. _ _

JENNY LIND'S FAILURE AND TRIUMPU.—The circum-
stances, too, of the failure were singularly trying. She
was announced to appear as Agatha, in Weber's Fries-
chutz, a character she had long regarded as that in which
her ability would be genially tested. To it her young
ambition had long pointed, and with it her artistic sympa-
thies were familiarly identified. The hour came, and
that wonderful and delicate instrument, that as a child
she had governed so adroitly, that it seemed the echo of
her mind, that subtle medium through which her feelings
had been wont to find such ready and full vent, refused
to obey her will, yielded not to the pleadings of love or
ambition, was hushed as by some cruel magic, and Jenny
Lind was mute, with anguish in her bosom, her friends
looking on in tearful regret, and her maestro chagrined
beyond description 1 Where had those silvery tones fled ?
What catastrophe had all at once loosened those invisible
harp strings ? The splendid vision of fame, of bounteous
pleasure, of world-excited sympathy, and of triumphant
art, disappeared like the gorgeous cities seen by the tra-
veller, from the Straits of Messina, painted in tinted
vapour on the horizon. Jenny Lind ceased to sing, but
her love of art was deepened, her trust in nature un-
shaken, her simplicity and kindliness as real as before.
Four long years she lived without the rich promise that
had invested her childhood, but, with undiminished force
of purpose, she studied the art for which she felt herself
born with patient, acute, earnest assiduity, and then
another and blissful episode rewarded her quiet heroism.
The fourth act of Robert le Diable had been announced
for a special occasion, and it so happened that, in conse-
quence of the insignificant role of Alice, consisting of
a single solo, no one of the regular singers was disposed
to adopt the character. In this emergency Berg was re-
minded of his unfortunate pupil. She meekly consented
to appear, pleased with an opportunity to be useful and
oblige her kind maestro. While practising this solo, to
the delight and astonishment of both teacher and pupil,
the long-lost voice suddenly re-appeared. It seemed as if
nature had only withdrawn the gift for a season, that her
child might gather strength and wisdom to use it effi-
ciently, and in an unselfish spirit, and then restored it as
a deserved recompense for the resignation and truth with
which the deprivation had been borne. We can fancy the
rapturous emotions of the gentle votary that night when
she retired from the scene of her new and unanticipated
triumph.—Tuckerman's Mental Portraits.
THE MOTIVES OP MARY QUEEN OP SCOT'S MISCON-
STRUED FESTIVITIES.—The festivities which moved the
ire of Master John Knox took place just before Lent,
always the close of the court season in Edinburgh during the
brief bright days of Mary Stuart's widow reign. Her enter-
tainments in the February of 1564 were more than usually
brilliant. "So soon as her Grace had recovered health,"
writes Randolph, " she determined with herself to pass
her time in mirth, and such pastimes as were most agree-
able for that time approaching Shrovetide Her Grace
sent for the most part of her nobility to be here against
Sunday last. She made them so solemn a banquet that
the m 'age of a prince, or the like, was not seen. Both
day as in Scotland, in the remembrance of man, except at
were little inferior to the first." The
theobject daysof followingthet
banquets was neither revelling nor idle
will between lately discordant powers, on whose union the
dissipation, but the re-establishment of peace and good-
tranquillity of the realm depended. A political crisis of
no ordinary interest had occurred. The deep-seeing Earl
of Moray, having formed an accurate estimate of the
popular influence of John Knox and the strength of his
faction, had effected a reconciliation with him during the
long and dangerous illness of the Queen. Moray had
united with Lethington and Mary's other ministers in the
judicious measure of taking her out of a bed of sickness to
expose her to the agitation of a personal discussion with
the most ill-mannered person in her dominions, and then,
instead of supporting her, had championised her adversary.
The affront Mary had received from her Privy Council on
that occasion was followed up by a formal requisition for
her to abstain from practising the rites enjoined by the
religion in which she had been nurtured. Mary, not con-
sidering the thorny diadem she Wore worth the sacrifice of
a compromise of conscience, offered to resign her office to
Moray, and in the bitterness of her heart commanded
him to take the thankless burden on his own shoulders."
Such was, indeed, the desire of his soul, but the hour was
not yet come for its accomplishment ; the necessary
arrangements had not yet been made. Queen Mary was
the idol of her people ; affection for her person and vene-
ration for her office were united with respect for her
virtues ; she must be deprived of their love, and painted
blacker than Messalina, ere another would be tolerated in
her place. Moray rejected her offer of resigning it to him,
and craved permission to retire to his estates in Fifeshire.
Mary granted him leave of absence for eight days ; he
tarried twenty-one, during which he incurred suspicion by
a meeting with his brother-in-law, the Earl of Argyll, at
Castle Campbell. A report
was next brought to the
Queen that he had privily embarked from his own
monastic post of Pittenween for England, and this was at
first believed both by her and others, the conduct of
Moray, previous to her return to Scotland, having been
such as to justify any suspicions of treasonable correspon-
dence between him and Queen Elizabeth. When Mary,
however, was convinced that the rumour of his retreat to
England was unfounded, a revulsion of feeling in his
favour succeeded her late anger and mistrust. How could
she doubt his loyalty and love to her, when he had refused
to receive her demission of the crown of Scotland P
Womanlike, she paused not to examine too closely into
the motives of a negation which appeared so convincing a
test of his honesty. But Moray knew full well his own
position, and that if he would govern Scotland, it must be
under the shadow of his Sovereign's sceptre; for how
or less akin to the royal line,
Parliament, whom Mary called
srdbeltoinousgppEorsrmmooreflie
liege homage to her base-born
brother P and Moray had, as yet, no infant puppet to call
their monarch, as a cloak for his own usurpation of the
regal office under the name of Regent. How often must
the poor deluded Queen have marvelled at her own blind-
ness and credulity. when retracing
the progressive moves
of her fraternal rival's finely-played
game! True to her
generous nature, Mary was the first to seek a reconcilia-
tion after the serious misunderstanding g between herself
and her brother in the commencement of the year 1564.
Without waiting for him to make submissions and sue for
pardon, she graciously extended the olive branch, and
wooed him to leave his sullen retreat and resume his
wonted place in her affections and her councils. As
herbe wouldp
cousins,
11
Ss
the jealous
nothing more conducive to his o,wn„,_
aggrandisement could
then be effected, Moray accepted her invitation, and she
honoured his return to her court with fetes and merry-
makings, to which all her nobles were frankly bidden,
whether they had sided with her pa-4.
or his faction during
the late estrangement —Mies Stricklan,d'affe of Mary
Queen qf Scots.

ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE.

THE CHURCH AND THE STANDARD,

TO THE EDITOR OP THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

SIR,—As an old reader of the Standard,—indeed a
subscriber from its commencement, which is now nearly
thirty years since,—l consider myself in some degree com-
petent to speak with confidence of the course which it has
pursued, the principles which it has advocated, its merits
and demerits, its good deeds and its short-comings.
Judge, then, my surprise, when I hear it more than in-
sinuated, indeed openly asserted, that the Standard is
the organ of Tractarianism. So far from such•a charge
having a shadow of truth, the Standard has proved itself
the consistent advocate of Protestantism, and an unwearied
defender of that party to which the term Evangelical has
been applied. Through good report and evil report has
this party been supported, its sayings and doings chronicled
five times more fully than in any other newspaper in
Liverpool, and that assistance rendered of which none
ought better to appreciate the value than those who have
received it. Within the last year or two I have observed
a perceptible difference, but it is one of greater ability and
increased vigour, a change which has rendered the
Standard a more efficient champion of the cause which it
has so triumphantly vindicated, and for which I have no doubt
it has received a considerable increase of public support.
Of what little value, comparatively speaking, would be
the eloquent appeals of our leading ministers in behalf of
the various societies by which the work of spreading the
truths of the Gospel is so well performed, were it not for
the reports which appear in your columns, by which they
are brought before thousands of readers who could never
have been hearers. I mention these but as evidences of
the good service which has been rendered by the Standard
to the cause which I have so much at heart, and which
renders me more astonished at the wilful misrepresenta-
tion to which, it appears, you have been subjected. It
would seem, indeed, as though some men are so obtuse of
intellect, or so wilfully perverse, that they would in one
breath boast a Free Press •as the palladium of British
liberty, and in the next villify their ablest champion be-
cause he does not prove the abject slave to laud every
petty crotchet of his imperious task-masters. For my
own part, I applaud your spirit of independence in daring
to offer rebuke where rebuke was more deserved than
praise, because I view it as an earnest of the right being
supported for the sake of the right, and not for the sake
of pandering to the prejudices of this or that individual.
There is something that appears to me very absurd, as
well as foolish, in thus casting unjust suspicions after so
long a career of usefulness and consistency, more than
enough to make the character of any man living. There
are but two newspapers in Liverpool conducted by mem-
bers of the Church. An attempt is now made to misre-
present the views which you have so ably and temperately
put forward, by the very men who have just discovered
that your Saturday contemporary has a leaning towards
Tractarianism. So the result appears inevitable, that
these few individuals, having rejected their best friend,
and deprived themselves of any claim to further support,
must resort to those dissenting prints which have ever
been the bitterest enemies of the Church, and
which have never joined with us but to serve their
own ends : for it may safely be affirmed that, with
the single exception of a portion of the Wesleyans,
the Dissenters have almost to a man supported
Radicals and Romanists. If this is to be the upshot of
all that the Standard his done in defence of the pure
principles of Protestantism, I tremble for the pecuniary
support which will in future be given to the various
societies to which I, in common with many of my friends,
have hitherto contributed. I allude to the Scripture-
readers' Fund, the Pastoral Aid Society, the Church Mis-
sionary Society, the Jews' Society, and similar institutions.
I for my own part shall continue my subscriptions from a
conscientious conviction that it is my duty to lend my aid
as far as I have it in my power ; but there are many of
my friends, and I have no doubt others, who will pause
before they countenance the few intemperate men who
have joined in this movement, and who, with many pro-
fessions of peace, seem only too anxious to be throwing
the apple of discord where all should be unity. Christian
liberty is one of the proud boasts of the true Protestant;
but it is making the chains of slavery more galling
than the fetters of Rome, if an old and tried friend
cannot express an honest opinion, in sober sincerity
and temperate language, without being subject to
such an absurd accusation as that of leaning towards
Tractarianism. It perhaps ought hardly to excite surprise,
since our blessed Saviour was subject to much worse treat-
ment of a similar character by the self-righteous
Pharisees, who took counsel together how they might
entangle him in His talk. We read of the lawyers asking
Him a question, tempting him ; of His rebuke, " Why tempt
ye me ?" and the result, that from that day forth no man
durst ask Him any more questions. These men of extreme
opinions and no moderation are not confined to this town,
as I observe, by a report of a public meeting of the Jews'
Society at Salisbury, that one of them was not only
publicly rebuked by the chairman for his intemperate
language and offensive epithets, but the latter threatened
to leave the meeting. Blindly wedded to their own narrow
views and selfish prejudices, they cannot brook contradic-
tion, and take offence at a manly expression of honest
independence for which I give you credit, though I may
not agree with all your views. If this, however, is to be
the end of long and faithful service, then farewell to our
boasted British freedom ; but I am rather inclined to
think that such wilful misrepresentations can only come
from a few whose intellects are too confined for reason to
have the slightest influence upon them.—l am, Sir, &c.,

SENEX.
P.S.—I enclose you my card, and you have full liberty
to make what use you please of this letter.

PRIEST CAHILL AND THE CHURCH OF ROME.

TO THE EDITOR OP TRH LIVERPOOL STA.NDA.P.D.

SIR,—On hastily glancing over the letter of the Romish
Priest Cahill, written the week before last, in answer to
the challenge of the Protestant Clergymen of Birkenhead,
I was forcibly struck with one passage in it. He says,—
" We believe no one can infallibly learn Christ's law with-
out our teaching !" I think I noticed in some other part
of the letter, something to the effect that Protestants could
not teach truth, nor Roman Catholics priests error; but
the whole letter strongly illustrates the arrogance of the
man, and the unwarrantable assumptions of the Romish
clergy. Nothing will satisfy them, it would appear, until
they have reduced the human intellect and the entire
population, from the highest to the lowest, to subjection
to them, and their teaching ; but surely they can never
succeed in this. The lamentable apathy and indifference
of Protestants, and the open encouragement of some in-
fluential parties, from whom an opposite line of conduct
might be naturally expected, would seem to spur them on
in their nefarious career. But I must again refer to the
extract above quoted. "We believe no one can infallibly
learn Christ's law without our teaching!" This is
monstrous. Can any educated Roman Catholic believe
this ? Can he so prostrate his intellect as not to use his
mental faculties in judging for himself upon matters that
concern his eternal welfare, but blindly submit to the
dictum of his fellow mortals ? Has the Almighty re-
linquished His prerogative of ruling and reigning in the
hearts of His obedient children, and showing them Him-
self, by His Holy Spirit, what He requires them to do, and
what He requires them to refrain from doing ? There are
many, very many, I rejoice to say, who can say, from
heartfelt experience, that their Creator has not so re-
linquished His undoubted prerogative, and given over His
creatures solely to the teaching of frail, erring human
beings like themselves. I think Priest Cahill asserts that
the Scriptures are not forbidden to the members of the
Romish Church ; but they must receive them, it is well
known, subject to the interpretation of the priests, and
along with the traditions of their Church, which are held
as of equal efficacy and force with the sacred Scriptures
themselves. Infatuated and debased indeed must be the
intellect of those who will thus prostrate themselves to
their frail fellow-creatures.

I think, if any properly qualified person would keep a
watchful eye on the sayings and doings of Priest Cahill,
and expose his gross errors in the public papers, he would
be doing good service to his country and the cause of true
religion. The priest, feeling, as I hope he does, the weak-
ness of his cause, dare not meet an open discussion with
the Birkenhead clergymen, but writes a long rigmarole
letter to cover his retreat, and this letter is, forsooth,
printed in a cheap form and extensively circulated among
his ignorant dupes, with a view of giving him the appear-
ance of coming off in a triumphant manner, and having
the last word. But he has for once acted wisely for his
own reputation, and skulked away to the North, to bluster
there, I suppose.
Nov. 4, 1853. A PROTESTANT DISSENTER.

THE MONSTER VICE OF LIVERPOOL, AS DE-

PICTED BY A CLERGYMAN.