The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-11-26 00:00:00

SCOTTISH lIDLAND RAILWAY.

It is a singular circumstance that, upwards of 50 years
ago, the very !line adopted for this railway was pointed
out by the celebrated engineer, Mr. Ainslie, as the best
for a canal. Little did he anticipate that the more con-
venient and expeditious mode of travelling by Railway
would be accomplished, over the very 'tract of country
which he suggested as so suitable for a canal.
When Mr. Ainslie made his survey, in 1791, he was so
much struck with the leTel between Forfar and Perth,
that he added in a note to his large map of the county of
Forfar—" There would be no difficulty in continuing a
canal by Forfar, Glammiss, Meigle, &c., to Perth, which,
if done, would be of the utmost. advantage to every Pro-
prietor whose lands are adjacent to it, besides going
through a rich and populous country ; but the great
object would be the conveyance of coal, lime, and free-
! stune, along the canal, which would be of great service to
the country." A survey was afterwards made by an en-
' gineer, and it was found that a canal was easily prac-
ticable.

In 1827 the noblemen and gentlemen of the district
instruc:ed Mr. Stevenson, the eminent engir:rer (of Edin-
burgh), to make a survey for a Railway from Perth through
Forfar, when he reported that it could be made so cheaply,
owing to the favourable nature of the country, that the
conveyance of merehandize, coal, lime, and agricultural
produce, would alone be sufficient to Ileld an adequate
return on the outlays

The great Landowners have now instructed Messrs.
Locke and Erringtoti to survey the same district ; and
they have reported that, owing to' the unusual facilities
alluded to, a Railway of the best construction stay be
made between Perth and Forfar for about £9,400 per
mile, and responsible contractors are ready to undertake
the works at the engineers' estimate.
The formation and route of this Railway have there-
fore been maturely considered, and the expected traffic
has been investigated with equal care. Tne Tables, which
chew a return of above 7 per cent., were minutely ex-
amined by a Local Committee, who reported, " 7'hat, if
any error has been committed, the traffic has been rather
understated than otherwise ;" and Lord \Vharncliffe,
who presided at the meeting to which this report wss
made, publicly expressed his entire confidence in its ac-
curacy. . .

It may, therefore, be safely asserted, that there are few
Railways now before the public which have been so, care-
fully considered, or which hold out such fair prospects of
return.

SERIOUS.COLLISIONS.—Abont eight o'clock on Thurs-
day evening, an alarming collision, attended with fatal
consequences, occurred on the Mersey, between one of the
Birkenhead steam ferry-boats, called the James, and the
barque Royalist, which arrived from St. John's, N. 8., a
day or two ago. The James was crossing the river to
Birkenhead, with about fifty passengers; and the Royalist
was lying at anchor off Monk's Ferry. The tide was
corning in at the time, and both vessels met at the, bows._
A boat was lying alongside the Royalist, and in the first
moments of alarm a number of passengers jumped into
her. An attempt was trade to turn the head of the
steamer to the tiae; but this movement only brought her
alongside the barque, and the boat was instantly crushed
between the two. Two of the parties in the boat reached
the Royalist,; all the others either jumped or were thrown
into the river. Assistance was immediately rendered to
the unfortunate beings in the water, and several were
rescued in a much exhausted state. Two persons perished :
one a young man named Harrison, brother of Mr. Joseph
Harrison, ironmonger, St. James's-street, and a man
named Fahey.—On the following night the Birkenhead
steamer William Fawcett came in collision on the river
with the schooner Jane of Douglas. The steamer struck
the schooner about midships, on the larboard side, and
carried away the whole of ber bulwarks, forernamtopiaii.
and a quantity of her rigcing. The steamer sustained
some injury, but went on to Birkenhead. Fortunately
no lives were lost. The schooner, in her damaged qon-
dition, was put back to the George's Dock, to undergo
the necessary repairs. K !,: • ,
Mr. hlassall, a surgeon at Stourbridg . %-r,,,:-.r. -: i, ,„ r.
witted to the assizes for trial, on a eh. • ,-.; .ly a. cm, ! ,4, ::::; „..„
ccurse of ill treatment, caused the deattLo I, w.efs;:jr.. . -..,.4
••• L..\.&=:7; 4 "1— • '1:-'
(c___
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Etteraturr.

P 0 E T 11 Y.

THE OLD SEAMAN.

(From the Keepsake for 1815.)
You ask me why mine eyes are bent
So darkly or. the sea,
While others watch the azure hills
That length,;n on the lee?
The azure hills—they soothe the sight
That falls along the foam;
And those may hail their nearing height,
Who there have hope or home.
But I a loveless path have trod-
-4t beaconlss career;
My hope bath long been all with God,
And ail my home is—here.
The deep by day, the heaven by night,

onward, swift and dark ;
Nor leave my soul the dove's delight,

Of alive-branch or ark.

For more than gale, or gulf, or sand,
I'v. proved that there may be
Worse treachery on the steadfast land

Than variable sea.

A danger worse than bay or beach,

-=
A falsehood more unkind—
The treachery of a governed speech,
And an ungoverned mind.
The treachery of the deadly mart,
Where human souls are so.d ;
The treachery or the hollow heart,
That crumbles as we hold.

Those holy hills and quiet lakes—
Ah ! wherefore should I find
This weary fever-fit, that shakes
Their image in my mind.

The memory of a streamlet's din
Through meadows daisy-drest—
Another might be glad therein,
But yet I cannot rest.

I cannot rest unless it be
Beneath the churchyard yew ;
But God, I think, Math yet for me
More earthly work to do.

And, therefore, with a quiet will,
I breath.; the Ocean air,
And bless the voice that calls me still,
. To wander and to bear.

Let others seek their native sod,
Who there have hearts to eneer ;
D,ly soul hath long been given to God,
And all my home is—here.

NOTICES.

Saint James's, or I,k Court of Queen Anne. By Wm.
Harrison Ainsworth, Esq. 3 vols. London : John
Mortimer, Adelaide-street, Trafalgar-square.
Of the works of this eminent novelist we infinitely pre-
fer those in which the writer brings his vast stores of
antiquarian research to illustrate particular localities fa-
mous in the history of our country. These works may
be said to constitute an entirely new style of romance,
peculiar to Mr. Ainsworth, in which the relation of some
contemporary- history, or fiction blended with history, is
made the means of conveying, in a more agreeable form
than that of mere antiquarian dissertation, facts connected
with and a description of buildings and places interesting
to his readers, which otherwise would remain a sealed book
to the majority of them, and be accessible to future ages
only through the musty records of the state paper office,
or some similar uninviting source of information, if they
did not entirely disappear as the perishing objects, which
alone bind them to memory, are swept from ken by the
hand of time and decay, or the march of modern improve-
ment. Amongst this class may be ranked "The Tower
of London," probably the best descriptive work of its
kind in any language, and one which must have re-
quired from the writer the most minute and careful per-
sonal investigation of the locality described. " Old Saint
Paul's" is another of the same class, but of more thrilling
interest, arising, perhaps, mainly from the more striking
period to which it carries us back, viz., that of the plague
and the great fire in London. " Guy Fawkes" partakes
also of this peculiar feature of Mr. Ainsworth's recent
works ; but it carries us over a greater field, and is espe-
cially interesting to us as rescuing from oblivion a number
of the most interesting personages and localities of ancient
Lancashire. We may add to these his striking romance
of " Windsor Castle."
The novel before us has apparently been a portion of a
design to open up the history and antiquities of another
of our royal palaces—Saint James's. In this, however, if
indeed it was seriously attempted, he does not appear to
have been as successful in finding material of interest as
in some of his former works. But if Saint James's has
furnished little ground for the display of antiquarian lore,
it has supplied the scene for a history of the court in-
trigues and court life of one of the most distinguished
reigns in British history, which the pen of the novelist
has hitherto scarcely visited at all. The literary annals of
that age of illustrious writers—the memoirs of the orna-
ments and, alas ! the disgrace of that reign—of Addison,
Steele, St. John, Prior, and the rest—have been again
and again recorded ; the characters of its statesmen—of
Oxford and Bolingbroke, Marlborough and Godolphin,
with the ambitious favourite and tyrant of royalty, his
duchess, are upon the page of history. But the character
and habits of the Sovereign herself, and her amiable—
although trifling—consort, Prince George of Denmark,
are little known. They have been cast into the shade by
the brilliancy of the military achievements and of the
literature of the period in which they flourished.
The period of Anne's reign at which Mr. Ainsworth
introduces us to her court, is the year 1702, when the
Duke of Marlborough was at the zenith of his fame, as a
soldier and a statesman, (characters which some envious
detracters of the greatest man in modern days have told
us are not compatible with each other,) and when his
haughty duchess bad succeeded in establishing an almost
dominion over, and at the same time arousing the impla-
cable resentment of, her Sovereign, and a determination
on her part of throwing off the yoke imposed upon her.
The introduction to the palace of a young lady of the
bedchamber, Abigail Hill, a relative of the duchess and of
her artful rival, Mr. Harley, afterwards Earl of Oxford,
is made the means of precipitating that event which ulti-
mately led, as the reader of history knows, of driving in
exile from his native land, whose name with his own he
had immortalized in Europe, the greatest general of his
age. The various intrigues by which this end was at
length attained are vividly described, and the characters
mingling in them, the state of parties, and the loose mo-
rals of the time, which contributed to their success, form
a picture, or rather a series of pictures, well worthy of
study. With these, the historical details of his story, the
doings and characters of several inferior actors are skil-
fully wrought up. We have the trial of the celebrated
Dr. Sacheverell, and the high church riots which were the
result. The French adventurer, the Marquis de Guis-
card, with his valet, Bimbelot, and his bravo, Sauvageon,
afford us happy specimens of the kind of instruments with
which the court of Louis intrigued for the restoration of
the exiled Chevalier de St. George, then holding his court
at Saint Germains. The story of the loves of Mrs.
Plumpton and Mrs. Tipping, for the Duke of Marlbo-
rough's favourite and valorous serjeaat, is a gem in its
way, and throws a pleasant relief upon the more serious
incidents of the work, whilst the character of Proddy, the
Queen's coachman, is inimitable. When we have said
that it deserves to be ranked in the same scale of funni-
ness and drollery with that of the valorous dwarf Zit,
described in his " Tower of London," we have bestowed
upon it ample commendation.
The work is illustrated, with his usual excellence, by
the inimitable George Cruickshank, who appears, in his
portraiture of the various characters introduced, to have
caught, and keenly relished, the spirit of the author.
We cannot resist extracting the closing incident of the
work :
On the evening of Tuesday, the 27th July. 1714, Oxford
received a sudden and peremptory intimation from the
Queen to resign the staff into her hands without a mo-
ment's delay ; upon which, though it was getting late, he
immediately repaired to the palace.
Ushered into the queen's presence, he found Lady Ma-
sham and Bolingbroke with her, and their triumphant
looks increased his ill-dissembled rage and mortification.
Ann a looked ill and suffering. She had only just reco-
vered from a severe inflammatory fever, attended with
gout and ague, and had still dangerous symptoms about
her. Her figure was enlarged and loose, her brow lower-
ing, her features swollen and cadaverous, and her eyes
heavy and injected with blood. She scarcely made an
effort to maintain her dignity, but had the air of a confined
invalid. On the table near her stood a draught prescribed
for her by her physician, Sir Richard Blackmore, of which
she occasionally sipped.
Moved neither by the evident indisposition of the queen,
nor by any feelings of gratitude or respect, Oxford ad-
vance& quickly towards her, and eyeing his opponents
with a look of defiance, said, in an insolent tone, and
with a slight inclination of the head—" Your majesty has
commanded me to bring the staff. I here deliver it to
you."
And as he spoke he placed it with some violence on the
table.
" My lord!" exclaimed Anne, " this rudeness!"
" Lord Oxford has thrown off the mask," said Boling-
broke. " Your majesty sees him in his true colours."
" It shall not be my fault, Bolingbroke," replied Ox-
ford, bitterly, " if her majesty—ay, and the whole nation
—does not see you in your true colours—and they are
black enough. And you, too, madam," he added to Lady
Masham, " the world shall know what arts you have used."
" If I have practised any arts, my Lord Oxford, they
have been of your teaching," rejoined Lady Masham.
" You forget the instructions you gave me respecting the
Duchess of Marlborough."
" No, viper ! I do not," cried Oxford, his rage becom-
ing ungovernable. "I do not forget that I found you a
bedchamber-woman ; Ido not forget that I used you as
an instrument to gain the queen's favour—a mere instru-
ment—nothing more ; I do not forget that 1 made you
what you are ; nor will I rest till I have left you as low as
I found you."
"My lord !—my lord !" cried Anne. " This attack is
most unmanly. I pray you to withdraw, if you cannot
control yourself."
" Your pardon, if I venture to disobey you, madam,"
replied Oxford. " Having been sent for, I shall take leave
to stay until I have unmasked your treacherous favourites.
So good an opportunity may not speedily occur, and I
shall not lose it.
" But I do not wishlto hear the exposure, my lord,"
said Anne.
I pray your majesty, let him speak," interposed Bo-
lingbroke, haughtily.
" Take care of your head, Bolingbroke." cried Oxford ;
di though her majesty may sanction your correspondence
with the courts of St. Germain, her parliament will not."
" Your majesty can now judge of his baseness and ma-
lignity," said Bolingbroke, with cold contempt, "know-
ing how he himself has duped your royal brother.

" I know it—l know it," replied Anne ; " and I know
how he has duped me, too. But no more of this, if you
love me, Bolingbroke."
" Oh that your majesty would exert your spirit for one
rr ornent," said Lady Masham," and drive him from your
presence with the contempt he deserves."
" If your majesty will only authorise me, it shall be
done," said Bolingbroke.
" Peace ! peace ! my lord, I implore of you," said
" You all seem to disregard me."
" Your majesty perceives the esteem in which you are
held by your friends I" said Oxford, sarcastically.
" You are all aike," cried the queen, faintly.
" What crime am I charged with ?" demanded Oxford,
addressing himself to the queen.
" I will tell you," replied Bolingbroke. " I charge you
with double-dealing, with chicanery, with treachery, with
falsehood to the queen, to me, and to the whole cabinet.
I charge you with holding out hopes, on the one hand, to
the Elector of Hanover, and to Prince James, on the
other. 1 charge you with caballing with Marlborough—
with appropriating the public monies—"
" These charges must be substantiated—must be an-
swered, my lord," interrupted Oxford, approaching him,
and touching his sword.
" They shall be substantiated, my lord," replied Bo-
lingbroke, haughtily and contemptuously.
" Bolingbroke, you are a villain—a dastardly villain!"
cried Oxford, losing all patience, and striking him in the
face with his glove.
" Ha !" exclaimed Bolingbroke, transported with fury,
and partly drawing his sword.
" My lord !" exclaimed the queen, rising with dignity,
" I command you to forbear. This scene will kill me—
oh !" And she sank back exhausted.

" Your pardon, gracious madam," cried Bolingbroke,
running up to her, and falling on his knees. " I have in-
deed forgotten myself."
" Oh! my head ! my head 1" cried Anne, pressing
her hand to her temples. " My senses are deserting me."
" You have much to answer for, Bolingbroke," whis-
pered Lady Masham ; " she will not survive this shock."

•
" It was not my fault, but h;s," replied Bolingbroke,
pointing to Oxford, who stood sullenly aloof in the mid.
dle of the room.

" Let Sir Richard Blackmore and Dr. Mead be sum-
moned instantly," gasped the queen ; " and bid the Duke
of Shrewsbury and the lord chancellor instantly attend
me—they are in the palace. The post of treasurer must
be filled without delay. Lose not a moment."
And Lady Masham ran out to give the necessary instruc-
tions to the usher.

" Shrewsbury and the chancellor—what can she want
with them ?" muttered Bolingbroke, with a look of
dismay.

Oxford, who had heard the order, and instantly divined
what it portended, softly approached him, and touched
his arm.

" You have lost the stake you have been playing for,"
he said, with a look of triumphant malice. "I am now
content."

Ere Bolingbroke could reply, Lady Nfasham returned
with Sir Richard Blackmore, who chanced to be in the
ante-room, and who instantly flew to the queen, over
whose countenance a fearful change had come.
" Your majesty must be taken instantly to bed," said
Blackmore.

" Not till I have seen the Dukes of Shrewsbury and
Ormond," replied the queen, faintly. " Where are
they ?"
" I will go and bring them instantly," replied Black-
more ; " not a moment is to be lost."
And as he was about to rush out of the room, Boling-
broke stopped him, and hastily asked, " Is there danger ?"
" Imminent danger!" replied Blackmore.
" The case is desperate. The queen cannot survive
three days."
And he hurried away. _ _ _

" Then all is lost l'' cried Bolingbroke, striking his
forehead.

And looking up, he saw Harley watching him with a
malignant smile.
" Lady Masham was assiduous in her attentions to her
royal mistress ; but the latter beeame momentarily worse,
and continued to inquire anxiously for the Duke of
Shrewsbury.

" Has your majesty no commands for Lord Boling-
broke ?" inquired Lady Masham.
" None whatever," replied the queen, firmly.
At this juncture, Sir Richard Blackmore returned with
the Duke of Shrewsbury, the lord chancellor, and some
other attendants.

"Ah ! you are come, my lords," cried Anne, greatly
relieved. " I feared you would be too late. Sir Richard
will have told you of my danger—nay, it is vain to hide
it from me. My lords, the office of treasurer is at this
moment vacant; and if anything should happen to me,
the safety of the kingdom may be endangered. My lord
of Shrewsbury, you are already lord chamberlain and
lord-lieutenant of Ireland ; I have another post for you.
Take this staff," she added, giving him the treasurer's
wand, which lay upon the table, " and use it for the good
of my people."
"As the duke knelt to kiss her hand, he felt it grow
cold in his touch. Anne had fainted, and was instantly
removed by her attendants.
" So," cried Oxford, " if the queen's fears are realized,
Lady Masham's reign is over; while your fate, Boling-
broke, is sealed. You have to choose between exile and
the block."

" If I fly, you must fly with me," cried Bolingbroke.
"No, I shall wait, replied Oxford; " I have nothing
;o fear."

" So end the hopes of these ambitious men !" observed
the Duke of Shrewsbury to the chancellor ; " the queen
has found they were not to be trusted. Her people's
welfare influenced the last exercise of the power of Goon
QUEEN ANNE."

The Nature and Treatment of Th,afness, and Diseases of
the Ear; and the Treatment of the Deaf and Dumb.
By Wm. Dutton, Surgeon. Illustrated with Frontis-
.

piece of Instruments. Churchill, Scho. 1844. Bvo.
This is a neatly-got-out work of 118 pages. The style
is correct and simple, disburthemsd of that tedious quo-
tation everlastingly from authorities often no longer such,
though paraded like men of straw, to be knocked down
cleverly by the author. Both legal and medical lore are
so burthened with precedents and references, that the
task of selection constitutes one of the most difficult of

literary labours nowadays. However, in this particular,
we congratulate the members of physic in their rapidly
attaining this selecting tact ; whilst their twin brother,
the law, is still busied collecting cases and precedents—
ever and anon working their labyrinthical way from misty
folds into the broad glare of truth and justice. Law dare
not yet enunciate a proposition of right in the abstract,
apart from some decision on a case in point by the Lord
Chancellor Woolsack: it is a cripple still leaning on the
crutches provided for it by its foster parent, the middle
ages ;—whilst medicine has dared to be free. Its fetters
of traditional error and wrong-directed judgment broken,
it can discuss a question on its simple merits alone, com-
prehend it in all its relations to other questions, and state
a fact or a principle in nature without deference to any
authority, human or canonised ; and appeal to no tribunal,
even on writ of error, but simply leaving it to be tested
by the mirror of truth itself held up in ever ylhurnan breast
—can go on from the station of experiment to that of
sound Baconian induction, and thence to the terminus,
where truth, arrived at, is to be put in practice—and
then, like the last function of animated being, transmit
the possession of such power to others, and close its la-
bours in the didactics of the schoolmaster, happy in the
attainment of a portion of valuable truth, and rejoicing
in the self-satisfaction of philanthropic effort of doing
good. Law is at present stopping at the halfway station
of •harm's way, if Irish Courts of Queen's Bench and
English law lords are to be taken in evidence. Let her
alone a bit : she is bruised herself with the awkward
handling of her own weapon ; self-interest will be ballast
enough, we trust, to right her, and bring her on safely at
last to the terminus of Good-end, close by the village of
Good-will.
In contrast with the useless tediousness of law, how
pleasant to take up a book without much pretension,
written in earnest simplicity, unsophisticated in its state-
ments, and whose pleasant purport is to amend some of
the ills, or soothe some of the trials, to which our won-
drously-compounded being is obnoxious! And amongst
these infirmities, that of deafness occupies no insignificant
corner in Pandora's box ; and if the modesty of the pre-
sent production, along with its scientific claims, adds but
an hour's instructive reading to the devoted student of
the divine art, or is the means, directly or indirectly, of
procuring benefit to any " who having ears cannot hear,"
so that eve❑ one chord of nature's ever-varying and all-
musical sounds, or one dulcet cadence of the human
voice, shall be caught up by the ear beforetime deaf as
the adder (though the adder is not deaf), yet will it have
accomplished more good than many an act of parliament !