The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1840-08-18 00:00:00

A NAVAL VETERAN

Died at Stoke, Mr. William Doyle, late a superan-
nuated boatswain of her Majesty's navy, aged eighty-four.
This venerable man was the last, we believe, who sailed
round the world with Captain Cook. lie entered the navy
when very young, and in 1776 sailed from this port with the
redoubted navigator, in the Resolution, attended by Captain
Clerke in the Discovery, and was coxswain of the boat at
Owhyee, Sandwich Islands, when Captain Cook was killed,
on February 14, 1776, and has often detailed, with peculiar
vividness to his attentive auditors, that lamentable affray with
the natives. lie was boatswain of the Blanche, in that des-
perate fight with the Pique, in the West Indies, when her gallant
commander, Capt. Faulkner, lost his life, and his brave first
lieutenant, now Admiral Watkins, swam with his sword in
his mouth to board the enemy. He also served in the Atlas,
in which ship he lost the sight of his right eye, and after-
wards in the Magnificent, were the other was injured. He
was wrecked in the Crocodile, and by his exertions saved the
lives of several persons at Salcombe Sands, where he was
eight hours in the water, and succeeded in saving the lives
of Lady Berkeley and her three children. He subsequently
served in the Bienfaisant, and was pensioned from that ship
in 1800 on account of his blindness. After using every effort
to regain his sight, he was advised to try the air of the west.
He accordingly came to this place, and remained till the time
of his death. He was a man gifted with extensive powers of
comprehension in the mathematics, and his extraordinary
qualities have been put often to the test by more than one
experienced naval officer. He was boatswain in the ship
which took the celebrated scholar, Sir W. Jones, to India,
in 1783, by whom the deceased was taken much notice of. Sir
William discovered that Doyle was superior in knowledge to
his compeers, and to this great man he was indebted for his
knowledge in the mathematics. His person was particularly
known to every one in the neighbourhood in which he lived,
and his intelligence and effusions of humour have thousands
of times served to amuse his gossiping neighbours. The de-
ceased's life was one of extraordinary adventure. On one
occasion, while with Capt. Cook, he accompanied a party on
shore, but on returning to the ship Doyle was gone, and his
shipmates, after every possible search, gave Isini up as lost,
and there was every reason to fear, from the habits of the
natives, that he had been murdered, probably roasted alive ;
some time after, however, Doyle was seen on the beach, and
on his being brought off to the ship he displayed all the ap-
pearance of a native chief. Having strolled from his com-
panions, he fell into the hands of the natives, and was taken
off, but fortunately finding favour in the eyes of one of the
daughters of the chief, his life was spared. He was tattooed
as one of the " Royal Family," and lived happily and com-
fortably enough for some days, when he had the satisfaction
of seeing three prisoners taken and roasted for a feast. This
was sufficient to show Doyle that his matrimonial elysium
might n
and he contrived to make his es-
cape.lsltiing'
Thisot be very
la m
on another occasion. While on a
served
• t
pow was con-
sequentlyforeign station,diey orders to return to the ship were too fre-
quently
so
drawnb taut." Doyle discipline on this
had, unfortunately, on one
occasion, reiaienle:d a
on t
s the
too late for the last boat, and
off
some t
mishap,o his ship
,
commanded
a ngid
Holloway;swimmer,but, totb swimy
Ipie,
mistook his ship, and got on board the Pegasus, then com-
manded by his late Majesty. Doyle was ordered to be flog-
ged ; but all hands were so surprised at thebornamented na-
turemorning an explanation was given, and his royal highness
was ever afterwards a friend to deceased. Doyle was severely
wounded on several occasions, but his nearest escape was in
a fraca, on shore. The ship to which lie belonged arrived at
the time of a revel at Stoke, and, accompanied by two of the
mates, they resorted to this place of general amusement.
When here, their attention was attracted by one of the Pri-
mitive Methodists, who were about this time first making
progress in the west, and who was charitably offering re-
demption to all, "not even," said the preacher, "excepting
the boatswain of a man-of-war." Whether this was person-
ally applied or not, deceased did not stay to inquire, but,
jumping upon the platform on which the preacher was placed,
knocked the orator down. This was the signal for a general
uproar, and the deceased received two severe wounds in the
bead.—Devonport Telegraph.

On Wednesday all the interior fittings of the Temple Church
were sold by private contract; the elaborately carved pulpit,
the magnificent organ. screen, and the grand alter-piec each
and all of which had for years been the admiration of visitors
were said to be purchased at the large price of 1200 guineas'
to be placed in the Christian church, now erecting, at Jeru-
salem, the original Temple Church having been built after a
model of the Holy Church, by the Knights Templars, on their
return from their crusade against the Infidels.—Standard.

There is something almost repulsive in placing the name of
one over whom the grave is about to close in the list of " Po-
litical Characters." It seems nearly a mockery to call a
piece of cold sodden clay a " Political Character"—to apply
such a term to what will soon be food for the worms, to what
will ere long be rotting in the sepulchre. And this is the
case on account of the wide contrast between the stirring
bustle and exciting activity of political life and the painful,
the solemn, the awful stillness of the tomb. How tremen-
dous the difference between the one and the other! how vast
the gulf by which they are separated ! On all occasions
death is a fearful visitant; but there seems something pecu-
liarly awful when he makes his presence in the chamber of
the senate. It is indeed melancholy to see the grim monster
snatching the tradesman from his occupation, the merchant
from his commerce, the scholar from his books, or the divine
from his flock ; and it is perhaps more melancholy still to see
him laying waste the palace of the Monarch or the mansion
of the Peer; but the great lesson that he teaches appears to
strike the mind with peculiar force when the STATESMAN
falls before his devastating scythe. Oh ! it is most mortify-
ing to the pride of human nature to behold a man in whose
bands were placed the destinies of a great and mighty king-
dom—to see him who could raise up one nation and throw
down another—him who, by a nod of his head or the scratch
of his pen, could plunge empires into all the horrors of war,
or secure to them all the blessings of peace ; it is most mor-
tifying, we say, to the pride of human nature to see such a
man obliged to shuffle off his mortal coil, and to become but
as the dust of the earth. But as God has willed it, so it must
be ; and perhaps the statesman has no reason to repine at
what is the common lot of every creature.

Glad should we have been had we been able to speak of
Lord Durham as a living " Political Character," but it has
pleased Him in whose hands are the issues of life and death
to call him hence. Disapproving as we do of almost every
act of Lord Durham's political career, and detesting most
thoroughly the political creed that he professed, we should,
now that he is in his grave, have much preferred to have
passed his name in silence, but this cannot be done with
propriety, on account of the prominent position he occupied
in the public eye. Being then under the nece sity of saying
something of him, we shall endeavour to speak of him with
To

as much of charitableness and kindly feeling as possible
war with the dead would be cowardly and disreputable.
It is the misfortune of almost every man of rank or wealth,
but especially of official station, to be surrounded by a set of
interested flatterers—men who, for their own mercenary
ends, will laud their pretended idol to the skies. No man,
perhaps, was more completely hemmed in by a gang of such
worthless sycophants than Lord Durham, and no man ever
suffered himself to be so readily duped by people of that
class. Vanity was one of poor Lord Durham's greatest
failings, and the set with which he allowed himself to be
mixed up took care to fool that vanity to the top of its bent.
By dint of the grossest adulation they succeeded in iden-
tifying themselves with his lordship, and it is. but fair to
suppose that many of his most mischievous acts were owing
to their suggestions. Although his intellect was of the
commonest order, Lord Durham was led to believe that he
was capable of great things ; and notwithstanding failure
after failure of the most lamentable kind was the result of
his best efforts, he still remained unconvinced that be was
not destined for one of England's greatest statesmen. This
belief, encouraged as it was by his own interested clique,
made him meddle with matters which he could neither
master nor understand ; and, in spite of the many morti-
fications which he had to encounter when his failures and
mistakes became apparent, he remained blind to his own
deficiencies. Every man, in whatever sphere, can commit
mischief, though few can do good ; and perhaps this truth
cannot be more strikingly illustrated than by the cases of
many public men, amongst others by that of Lord Durham.
Although he was a powerless and in fact dangerous friend,
he had still enough influence to be able to commit much mis-
chief : nor did he fail to avail himself of his talents for evil.
At times he was a sad thorn in the side of the 'Whigs. Dis-
trusted and disliked as a friend, he was dreaded and hated as
an enemy. The Whigs feared the man, and crouched before
him ; and when his anger was roused they to appease it did
homage to his vanity. This it was that led to his appoint-
ment as Special Ambassador to St. Petersburgh, and as Go-
vernor-General of Canada. He was sent on both missions
merely to be put out of the way ; but as they enabled him to
make great show and parade, the swelling vanity of the man
was satisfied. His conduct at St. Petersburgh and his ex-
ploits in Canada proved how little he was fitted to fill any
station of national importance. In both offices, being vested
with " a little brief authority," " he played such fantastic
tricks before high heaven as made the angels weep." In his
mission to St. Petersburgh he was flattered and cajoled, and
eventually duped;, and in his mission to Canada he plunged
the country into rebellion, and then basely deserted his post
in a fit of petty vexation. In this he would most assuredly
have been impeached had the House of Commons not hap-
pened to have been elected after the passing of the Reform
Bill. Yet for all this Lord Durham's adulators could gravely
tell the world that he was a great statesman and a sincere pa-_
triot ! Oh ! shame.

Professedly Lord Durham was a Radical of the most ultra
description, really he was a despot of the first water. The
following lines may be applied_t9 him with propriety:—

When nobles
Look'd cold on him, he turn'd, with ready shift,
To base-born citizens, and gain'd their voices ;
With feign'd regard for what they term their rights,
Suck'd in the breath of popular applause,
Even while he loath'd the applauders—any thing
That offer'd food to the o'er bloated pride,
Which craved the more for feeding."

As a speaker Lord Durham was pleasing; he could talk.
with ease and facility, and he delivered his sentiments in
tolerably agreeable language. He was, however, not an
orator, neither was he considered a very awkward opponent
in argument. When he was in the cabinet he was very much
disliked, on account of his imperious, dictatorial demeanour.
Perhaps no man in the kingdom was cursed with a worse
temper.
Lord Durham was always ailinff. thonah h. was a An.

uguisg, taiougil 1.10 was a Hue,
gentleman?' looking man. His features were small and
regular, perhaps they might be considered a little effeminate ;
his hair was coal black ; his complexion, according to Can-
ning, was " rather yellow, rather yellow."
Having said thus much we will leave the once proud and
haughty head of the house of Lambton. Poor man ! He
has gone in the bloom of his days, from the bosom of a be-
loved and affectionate family to " that bourne whence there
is no return." May God's peace be with him.

Tnit WRONG Box.—The senior wrangler, of a certain
year, piping hot from the Senate-house at Cambridge, went
to the play at Drury-lane ; it so happened that a certain
great personage entered at the same moment, on the other
side of the house, but unobserved by the mathematician. The
whole house testified their respect by a general rising and
clapping of hands. Our astonished academic instantly ex-
claimed, " Well, well, this is more than I expected ; how is
it possible that these good people should so soon have dis-
covered that I am the senior wrangler !"—Colton.
, WHAT IS DEATH ?—The laws of nature are all directed
by divine wisdom, for the purpose of preserving life and in-
creasing happiness. 'Pain seems, in all cases, to precede the
mutilation or destruction of those organs which are essential
to vitality, and for the end of preserving them ; but the
mere process of dying seems to be falling into a deep slum-
ber; and in animals, which have no fear of death dependant
upon imagination,'it can hardly be accompanied by very in-
tense suffering. In the human being, moral and intellectual
motives constantly operate in enhancing the fear of death,
which, without these motives in a reasonable being, would
probably become null, and the love of life be lost upon every
slight occasion of pain or disgust; but imagination is creative
with respect to both passions, which if they exist in animals,
exist independent of reason, or as instinct. Pain seems in-
tended by an all-wise Providence, to prevent the dissolution
of the different organs, and cannot follow their destruction.
I know several instances in which the process of death has
been observed, even to its termination, by good philosophers;
and the instances are worth repeating :—Dr. Cullen, when
dying, is said to have faintly articulated to one of his inti-
mates, " I wish I had the power of writing or speaking, for
then I would describe to you how pleasant a thing it is to
die." Dr. Black, worn out by age and a disposition to pul-
monary hemorrhage, which obliged him to live very low,
whilst eating his customary meal of bread and milk, fell
asleep, and died in so tranquil a manner, that he had not
even spilt the contents of the spoon which he held in his
hand. And the late Sir Charles Blagden, whilst at a special
meal with his friends, Monsieur and Madame Berthollet and
Gay-Lussac, died in his chair so quietly, that not a single
drop of the coffee in the cup which he held in his hand was
spilt.—Sir Humphrey Davy.
THE INFLUENCE OF PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY ON CIVILI-
SATION.—The physical conformation of the globe is singularly
adapted to facilitate this incessant regeneration of mankind.
The human species might have been placed in situations
where no such revolutions could affect it. Impassable moun-
tains or arms of the ocean might have separated the rude
from the civilised inhabitants of the world ; the empires of
the east might have been secured by their situation from hos-
tile invasion ;-.and human wickedness might have continued
undisturbed in the places were its career first commenced.
If the forests of Burmah or America had stretched along the
north of the eastern world, the inhabitants of Scythia would
have been‘chained to the hunter life ; and the citizens of the 1
Roman or Persian monarchies, how effeminate soever, might
have beheld with contempt a few naked savages emerging
from the woods on their frontier. The corruption incident to
early civilisation would then have been without a remedy,
and the channels of human felicity choked by the magnitude
of early population. It was the vast and open plains of Tar-
tary and Arabia, lying in the immediate vicinity of the spot
where it was first cradled, which, iu the infancy of the species,
led to the pastoral life, and made the tents of the desert co-
eval with the cities of the plain on the first dispersion of man-
kind. While the wandering life of shepherds spread the race
of man far and wide over the globe in the first ages of the
world, the rapid multiplication of the species in the pastoral
state, prepared, in later times, those periodical and dreadful
irruptions which were destined to punish and regenerate the
stationary part of mankind. The same wilds which first
served as a highway to the dispersion, afterwards became the
channel which led to the regeneration of the species. When
the vices of the south called for the infusion of barbarian
valour, it was not a few scattered savages who answered the
summons, but Timour at the head of the Tartar horse, or
Genghiskhan with the hordes of Scythian cavalry.—Alison's
Principles of Population.
DESTRUCTION OF LIFE IN ANCIENT WARS.—Accustom-
ed as we are to the effects of war in civilized times, when the
most bloody contests are followed by an increase in the num-
bers of the people, it is difficult to form a conception of the
desolation which it produces in barbarous ages, when the
void produced by the sword is not supplied by the impulse
of subsequent tranquillity. A few facts will show its prodi-
gious influence in former ages. It is ascertained by an exact
computation, that when the three great capitals of Khorassan
were destroyed by Timour, 4,347,000 persons were put to
the sword. At the same time 700,000 peop.e were slain in
the city of Monsul, which had risen in the neighbourhood of
the ancient Nineveh ; and the desolation produced a century
and a half before the sack of Genghiskhan, had been at least
as great. Such were the ravages of this mighty conqueror
and his Mogul followers, in the country between the Caspian
and the Indus, that they almost exterminated the inhabitants;
and five subsequent centuries have been unable to repair the
ravages of four years. An army of 500,000 Moguls, under
the sons of Ginghis, so completely laid waste the provinces
to the north of the Danube, that they have never since re-
gained their former numbers ; and in the famine consequent
upon the irruption of the same barbarians into the Chinese
empire, 13,000,000 are computed to have perished. During
the invasion of Timour, twelve of the most flourishing cities
of Asia, including Delhi, Ispahan, Bagdad, and Damascus,
were utterly destroyed, and pyramids of human heads, one
of which contained 90,000 skulls, erected on their ruins.
During thirty-two years of the reign of Justinian, the bar-
barians annually made an incursion into the Grecian empire,
and they carried off or destroyed at an average on each occa-
sion 200,000 persons. Nor was the depopulation of the
southern and western provinces less during the same disas-
trous period. In the wars of Belisarius in Africa, 5,000,000
of its inhabitants are computed by a contemporary writer to
have perished ; and during the contests between that illus-
trious warrior and his successor Narses, and the barbarian
armies in Italy, the whole Gothic nation, and nearly fifteen
millions of the natives of Italy disappeared. The plague
which followed these sanguinary contests, carried off still
greater numbers than the sword; and during the fifty-two
years that it desolated the Roman empire, it is said to have
destroyed a hundred millions ofinhabitants.—Ali,yon's Prin-
ciples of Population.

MANCIIESTER AND LIVERPOOL.—Though Manchester
and Liverpool are so close to each other, and so intimately
connected, yet the difference between the two towns is very
striking, and the contrast is probably the cause of the jealousy
that subsists between their inhabitants. The most prominent
distinction is, that the population of Liverpool is more diver-
sified, and more obviously chvisable into classes, than that of
Manchester ; there is more splendour among its rich, and
more squalor among its poor. The connections between the
employer and the employed in Liverpool are not so intimate
or so permanent as iu a manufacturing district ; the seaport
requires a much greater proportion of rude labour and unin-
structed industry ; there Is less demand for trained skill, the
acquisition of which is in itself a species of moral culture, and
there is a greater need for mere brute strength,—the capacity
of raising weights and carrying burthens. In Liverpool, also,
there is a far greater proportion of casual to settled employ-
ment than in Manchester, as must necessarily be the case
when the demand for a very large ampunt of labour depends
upon the wind and tide. The manufacturer must feel some
sympathy with the operative whom he sees every day in his
mill ; but the same opportunity is not afforded to the ship-
agent, who hires day labourers to load a vessel, or to dis-
charge a cargo. It is not meant that the merchants of Liver-
pool have no regard for the physical and moral welfare of the
labourers in their employ ; the very contrary is the fact ; no
place on the globe possesses a greater number, in proportion
to the population, of the energetically benevolent, than the
town of Liverpool. Nowhere are schemes of philanthropy
more zealously encouraged, or more ardently supported ;
but from the very nature of the relations which exist between
the rich and the poor, the former are irresistibly compelled to
look upon the latter in the mass, and not to take each case in-
dividually. The merchant does not and cannot know every
labourer whom he employs; personal communication between
them is nearly impossible; he is anxious to do good, and to
prevent evil •; but he is driven to provide for classes of cases,
instead of single cases ; hence his bounty assumes to the
recipient somewhat of the form of cold calculation, and he is
accused of forgetting the physiological fact, that the poor have
hearts as well as stomachs. When we assert that the distinc-
tion between the employers and the employed is far more
broad and rigid in Liverpool than in Manchester, we do not
mean to say that the merchant is more proud than the manu-
facturer, or the labourer more subservient than the operative ;
but we mean that the circumstances of position render the
distance between the factor and the labourer wider and more
obvious than it is between the manufacturer and the opera-
tive.—. Dr. W. C. Taylor in Bentley's Miscellany.

GRAND JUNCTION RAILWAY

The following are the Times of Departure from Lime-street
Liverpool, and from Liverpool-road, Manchester :
TIMES OF DEPARTURE

FROM LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER TO BIRAIINGHAM,
3 30 a.m. First Class, joins London Train at 8 30 a.m.
6 a.m. Mixed PO „ 12
8 15 a.m. First Class SO fl 1 15 p.m.
10 30 a.m. First Class 4 p.m.
12 15 p.m. First Class Of 70 6 p.m.
4 p.m. Mixed
7 p.m. First Class „
12
FROM BIRMINGHAM TO LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER,
2 15 a.m. First Class—Meets N. Union Train to Preston
at Parkside.
6. a.m. Mixed Train do. do. do.
11 30 a.m. First Class
2 15 p.m. First Class
2 45 p.m. First Class—Meets N. Union Train to Preston
at Parkside.

3 30 p.m. Mixed
5 p.m. First Class

On Sunday the Departures will be

3 30 a.m. First Class, joins London Train at 8 30 a.m.
8 15 a.m. Mixed lf 1 30 p.m.
10 30 a.m. „
7 p.m. PP „ 12
2 15 a.m. First Class
1 30 a.m. Mixed "
11 30 a.m. „
245 p.m. „
The Trains on Sundays stop at First Class Stations only,