The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-02-20 00:00:00

INQUESTS.

The following inquests were held yesterday, before
P. F. Curry, Esq., coroner :
On view of the body of Sarah Naylor, who had re-
sided in Gerard-street, and who was run over by a
shandry, in Byrom-street, on Saturday last, about noon.
The driver of the vehicle, John Hurst, was brought
into the room in custody, there being a suspicion that
the deceased had lost her life througb his culpable neg-
ligence or carelessness.. It appeared from the evidence
that the deceased, who was 74 years of age, was in the
act of crossing Byrom-street, near the bottom of Great
iCrosshall-street, when the near shaft of the shandry,
the borse in which was going at a brisk trot, struck her
and knocked her down, and the wheel passed over her
breast. She died on Sunday morning. After a length-
ened inquiry, the jury found a verdict of " Accidental
death," with a deodaiad on the shandry of 20s.
On view of the body of William Mowton, aged ten
years. On Friday last deceased and his aunt had taken
dinner to the rope-walk in Lodge-lane, where the de-
ceased's father was employed. ,Deceased left the place
to go home, and on his way tell down at the top of the
rope-walk. He was feund soon afterwards, bleeding
from a wound in the left temple, and stated that he had
fallen. He lingered in a state of insensibility until the
following morning, when he died. It was supposed that
he fell upon a nail or spike.
On view of the body of John Riley, aged 30. The
deceased was engaged, on Friday last, with another
man, in laying down gas-pipes in Barrack-street, north
end of the Clarence Dock. The depth of the cutting
was about 6i feet from the surface of the street. While
they were so employed, one side of the cutting gave way,
and fell upon the deceased and the other man. Deceased
was taken o it immediately, but was quite dead.
On view of the body of Catherine Leyden, five years
of age, who lived in Lace's-street. On Saturday morn-
ing week, the deceased was left in a room with another
child, and her night-clothes having taken fire, she was
so severely burned that she died on Saturday last.
On view of the body of John Morden, a child under
two years of age, and who lived with his parents in
Kifchen-street. Deceased was accidentally scalded on.
Thursday evening by the upsetting upon him of a jug
of hot coffee, and died from the injuries on the following
day.

On view of the body of Samtiel Lythgoe, a child of
about eight years of age. On Saturday morning last,
deceased, while at Mr. Win. Lassell's brewery in Mil-
ton-street, had, it appeared, accidentally fallen into a
butt of hot water, and was so severely scalded all over
his body that the skin came off with his clothes. He
died from the injuries in about .two hours and a half
after the accident.

MISCELLANEOUS.

At a meeting at the Duke of Richmond's on Saturday,
at which a great number of noblemen and gentlemen were
present, a metropolitan society was formed for the pro-
tection of British agriculture.

Lord and Lady Stanley gave, on Saturday evening, an
elegant entertainment, at their residence in St. James's-
square, London. Amongst the company were the Right
Hon. W. E. and Mrs. Gladstone, Lord Sandon, anti
Mr. Cardwell.

MURDER IN NORWICII.—On Thursday evening last
an inquest was held at Norwich, before Mr. W. Wilde,
on view of the body of John Seeley, aged 65, who came
by his death on that day, as was alleged, from a blow
with a poker given by his wife, a woman apparently
about 40. The parties kept a low pnblic-house in that
city. They had been in the habit of quarrelling, and on
the day named more than usual, and deceased stated that
his wife had struck him with a poker in the chest. He
died the same afternoon.

ALISENTEEISNI."4,et us inquire if absenteeism existed
when the Irish Parliament was sitting ; if so, there are no
grounds for maintaining that the creation of another Irish
Legislature would prevent the perpetuation of the alleged
evil. Every writer on Ireland, for several centuries, has
written forcibly against absenteeism at the very periods
when the Irish Parliament was in its greatest plenitude.
Sir William Petty, Prior (or Dobbs), Gee, Spenser,
Dean Swift—all wrote against absentees. The Dean said
"it perpetually drained the country, and drove half the
farmers into beggary and banishment." In the reign of
Richard 11., there was a heavy tax imposed on absentees ;
who were fined two-thirds of their estates. The law was
revived in the reign of Henry VIII., for, as the late Mr.
Sadler says "like all others of this nature, the former
the former had been evaded." Mr. Sadler adds, that
" in the time of James L the entire lands of all abseen-
tees were vested in the Crown." In 1715, the Irish Par-
liaments taxed the pensions, salaries, &c., °fall absentees
four shillings in the pound, which tax was afterwards re-
pealed. A recent and patriotic writer says—" Absentee•
ism existed to a grievous extent even under the resident
legislature of Ireland, notwithstanding all their exertions
to destroy this plaie potitique la pluss d6vorante. There
were legal enactments against absenteeism from 1377 up
1753: they all proved inefcient. In 1773, Mr. Flood
made an attempt to revive the old laws, but failed. In
1783, a proposition to the same effect was supported by
Mr. Grattan, in vain. In 1797, Mr. Vandeleur, made a
motion with the same view, which proved abortive."—
Bryan's Practical View of Ireland.

THE IRISH STATE TRIALS.—At length this tedious
affair has come to a conclusion, and terminated, as we
have expected ever since we read some portions of the
evidence, in a conviction of all the defendants—whose acts
and language had undoubtedly gone for beyond the line of
legal and constitutional appeal to public opinion. Many
of the liberal newspapers are loud in their complaints
against the government for having instituted the prorecu-
tion against Mr. O'Connell and his co-defendants ; but
we must confess that in these complaints we cannot at all
concur. From the time of the meeting at Mullaghmast,
where the act of the union was declared to be a nullity,
and the announcement of " the repeal cavalry," for the
purpose of making a demonstration at Clontarf, it appeared
to us that the government had no choice, unless they were
disposed to allow the discontented portion of the Irish
people to place themselves in complete military array, and
to prepare for an outbreak which would have deluged the
land in blood. Mr. O'Connell's real objects may be, as
many people believe, quite laudable; but without troubling
ourselves to inquire into that point, we are quite sure that
the means to which he has resorted for the attainment of
those objects have been in the highest degree illegal, un-
constitutional, and, considered in a moral point of view,
exceedingly wicked and nefarious. Notwithstanding all
that has been said in defence of the conduct and motives
of Mr. O'Connell in the agitation which has led to this
prosecution, we cannot bring ourselves to sympathise with
a man who has done his utmost to stir up a feeling. of deeq
and malignant hate between Englishmen and Irishmen,
and who has not scrupled to point to incendiarism as a
mode of punishing Englishmen for supporting the govern-
ment in its resistance to the demand for repeal.—Man-
chester Guardian, Radical paper.

Lttiiaturr.

CARDINAL DE RETZ

THE COURTIER'S PLOT

BY PETER. POPJOY, Esq:

(For the Liverpool Standard.

UHAPTER VIII

The flight a new character—a meeting in the dark —a peculiarly
embarrassing and in. cresting situation—the escape.
• -

IN the meantime Fabien speedily traversed with his Vin,
known liberator the vast purlieus of the Cloitre St. Ho-
nore. In spite of his anxiety he could not control a na-
tural enough curiosity to know who the person was that
took so vivid an interest in his behalf; but at the first
word of question he was abruptly commanded to be silent.
In vain did he attempt to distinguish the features of his
conductor and mysterious friend. That part of the cloister
they passed through was plunged in complete obscurity,
and the unknown appeared to want somewhat of a perfect
knowledge of the localities to direct him without a light
along the numerous windings, turnings, and passages.
All that Fabien could observe was that the guide exhi-
bited signs of great alarm ; his hand trembling, and his
voice, as he bade De Croissi mount or descend, turn to
the right or the left, being scarcely audible. Several times
he suddenly stopped, as if he heard a noise at a distance,
or saw the glimmering of some far-off lamp at the extre-
mity of a corridor. After sonic time had been thus occu-
pied, he introduced Fabien into a little ill-furnished cham-
ber, badly lighted by a wretched lamp, which doubtless
belonged to one of the humblest menials of the palace.
When they bad entered this little room they found in it
an individual who appeared to be awaiting their coming.
He demanded, with vivacity—
" Well, Boniface, have you succeeded—have you
brought him with you ?"
" He is here," replied the guide, stopping aside to let
Fabien pass.
Fabien now observed the person who stood before him.
He was clad in black, and his countenance bore the im-
press of good temper, sagacity, and activity of mind.
" Fear nothing," said the guide, "it is my cousin
Eustache Vireton, one of the best scholars of Sorbonne ;
but in the name of all the saints, be quick. They will
notice the disappearance of this young cavalier, and pur-
sue us without loss of time. What would become of us
if we were caught before we could pass the wicket? They
would shut us all up in the Bastille."
" Pooh, pooh !" said Eustache, " your fears are ridicu-

, .
lous."
" Nevertheless, let us go."
They were once again on their journey through this
wilderness of buildings, and again plunged in darkness.
On, on they went, up and down, through courts, corri-
dors, and galleries—now mounting staircases, now de-
scending as if into the very bowels of the earth. At
length they entered a long gallery.
" The saints defend us," whispered Floniface ; "we
are lost ; " there is some one approaching."
A light step was heard at the end of the corridor, and
at the same minute a female form appeared, scarcely dis-:
tinguishabie in the dim light which struggled for admit-
tance through the deep windows which here and there
were pierced in the wall. The figure glided on, keeping
close to the side like a spectre, and advanced towards
the fugitives.
The three stood still until the figure approached. They
heard her sighs and suppressed sobs, and it was clear
that she did not expect there were spies upon her ac-
tions.

The adventurers dared scarcely breathe.
The lady at length approached them, and passed so
close that the least movement would have betrayed them.
What must have been the terror of his companions, as
Fabien started forward, and said, in a low voice, " Eli-
zabeth ! Elizabeth P"
The quick perception—the sympathetic feeling expe-
rienced in the approach of a beloved one—prompted Fa-
hien at once to recognise the Countess.
Elizabeth tottered with fear, and cast around her the
most anxious looks.

" It is I—Fabien—be not alarmed ; pray be silent;
and we are safe."

The maiden on recognising him, clung to him with the
utmost consternation.

" Oh ! Fabien, are you still within the precincts of the
palace ? Why, why do you remain ? Why have you
not quitted these hated walls ?

"Elizabeth, I thank Heaven that we have thus met;
this is a happy chance ; 1 have experienced the utmost
anguish in departing hence without knowing your
fate. In pity sake, tell me are you out of danger?—and
that the Queen has pardoned you ? I shall then leave
without fear, if not without regret."
" Imprudent Fabien, you loge time. Fly on your way."
Elizabeth now perceived, with somewhat of fear, Fa-
bien's two companions, who stood in the shadow of the
wall. De Croissi guessed at once the cause of her alarm.
" These are friends—deliverers," said he, quickly ;
"be not dismayed at their presence. But tell me, dearest,
what passed in the oratory after my departure."
" If I have yet to deplore your fate," replied Eliza-
beth, " my own punishment will be without consolation,
and I shall die under it." Sne wept.
" Has the Queen been relentless, then? Oh ! tell me."
" She has banished me from court, and to-morrow I am
to be sent to the Carmelites for the remainder of my days:
this—this is my fate."
Fabien placed his arm round Elizabeth's waist, and
supported her fainting form. A minute's silence ensued,
till the guides became impatient of delay.
" Sir," said Eustache, " every moment lost is fraught
with danger to us all. Mademoiselle," continued he, "if
the welfare of Monsieur Fabien is dear to you, delay him
not; time presses, and we must not stop."
" Yes, yes, Fabien, perhaps fate will yet smile upon
us ; let us live in hope. Away, away."
So saying, she was about to tear herself from Fabien's
embrace ; but Fabien, suddenly drawing her still closer
to his breast, said—

" Elizabeth, I was willing to depart hence, because 1
believed that you would be free and happy, and that I
soon might see you again. But now that I know the
lot that awaits you, what need I care for what becomes
of me. Of what value is life to me, if we must live
apart. I will no longer compromise the safety of these
brave fellows who would save me. I will deliver myself
up. I will not struggle against my fate."
The maid of honour turned ashy pale.
" Fabien," she said, " you cannot have reflected upon
such unparallelled folly. What will this act of despair
avail ?"

" I will remain here ; at least"—His eyes rested on
Mlle. de Montglat with a strange expression.
The maiden sunk her head on his breast.
" Friends," said Fabien to his companions,
few pacs• aside." They did so.
" Elizabeth," said he, " the moment for scruples is
past. I will tell you plainly, I will not quit the palace
unless you accompany me."
What is it you would propose to me?" said the coun-
tess, averting her head.
" Listen to me, Elizabeth ; for you, as for me, life is
now but a d,esert ; how can we exist apart who love each
other so well ? Both orphans and friendless—both con-
demned to a miserable fate—both the spot t of selfish and
ambitious adventurers, who have cast their trammels
round us ; Elizabeth, let us resist this tyranny which
seems to weigh us both down. Our affections are free;
in each other's company let us seek the 'sweets of exist-
enoe. Do you, dearest, recollect the pleasant hours we
have passed at Montglat ? From that time I plighted
you my faith, and received yours in return. To-day all
obstacles which opposed our union are cleared away—
persecution warrants us to be united. Consent to follow
me, Elizabeth ; come, do not refuse me. The mysterious
protector who watches so strangely over me cannot but
be a man of generosity, and will not refuse to accord you
that asylum which he has unasked, provided for me.
Come ! I implore you in the name of her who loved us
both, who smilingly encouraged our affection, not to re-
fuse my prayer—the entreaty of your dearest friend—
your brother—your husband."
A violent mental struggle agitated the frame rf Eliza-
beth. The future hung by a thread—for weal or woe.
Her bosom swelled a faintness nearly overcome her—
her lips trembled ;—she flung her arms wildly round Fa-
bien's neck, and murmured—
" Take me with you, Fabien ; and God pardon me if
I am doing wrong."
The young man scarcely could credit his happiness ;
but the danger of their situation did not permit him to
give expression to his delight. He now turned towards
his companions, and said—
" We will follow you, sirs ; I would not now for worlds
fall into their hands."
" Monsieur de Croissi," asked Boniface, with an air of
embarrassment, " who is this young lady ?"
" Like myself, she is persecuted; will you refuse her
your aid ?"
" But—"
" Do you wish me to remain here ?"
" No ; but if you knew—"
" They are coming," exclaimed Fabien, and at the
same moment he bore Elizabeth with rapidity to the end
of the gallery.
It was time, indeed, the little group should quit the
place, for hardly had they arrived at the staircase which
led to a lower range of apartments than a noise ap-
proached and compelled them to stop lest the echo of
their footsteps should be heard. They again remained
silent and motionless, their hearts throbbing with excite-
ment and anxiety.
The noise arose from the Queen returning to her apart-
ments, preceded by a single domestic, who bore a torch
before her. She slowly paced the gallery, while the fugi-
tives, hid in the shade, could see her pass in the distance,
pale, thoughtful, and care-worn with the numberless
anxieties that day and night occupied her attention.
When the reflection of the flambeau which the valet
bore had disappeared at the turning of the corridor, and
when the noise of his steps was lost in the silence of the
night, the fugitive's again pursued their way through the
labyrinth of staircases amidst which the most calm and
profound silence reigned.
The li de group at length found themselves in an open
Court, and the effect of the fresh air now drawing upon

" stand a

I the morning, had a rev, aFaii them all.
Nevertheless they were n • the precincts of the
cloister; delapidated buld.Te -,rroun.l. the court.
except on one sit e, where l,irrced in the „.„11.
But this door appeared to l;' • closed for tinny
years ; its hinges and bolts tv, .„.,, and a large stone
was rolled against it. 80, i exever, set to work,
and, aided by the Scholar, qui.,t ‘• eared away the stones,
then drawing from his pocket a key, he without
difficulty turned the lock, a.,1 an-er g himself that
there were none to observe them, .e a IFgri to his com-
panions that they could escape u ithout fear of detection.
Fabien and Elizabeth lost no time io availing themselves
of the invitation. As for Et!, tae:;e, after exchanging a
few words in a low voice with his relation, he rejoined
them in silence, and the door was quietly closed after
them. The next moment !her heard l3nniface replace
one by one the stones against the door, so that no one
might suppose it had been opened, for the worthy fellow
appeared to make it his business to place in security the
secret of the gentlemen of the household, who sometimes
availed themselves at nightfall of this outlet, unknown to
the guards of the palace.
Fabien would have addressed some words of thanks to
the humble functionary who had thus con' ributed to avert
the danger that threatened them ; but he had not time
He found himself in a narrow and muddy lane, one end
of which the door they had passed through occupied, while
the other opened upon the Rue St. Honore. The night
was still dark, and a profound silence reigned throughout
the sleeping city. Elizabeth, alarmed, clung to her lover,
shivering with cold, and enquired, in a low voice—
" Oh ! Fahien, whither do you conduct me ?"
At this moment the Scholar, who went a little in ad-
vance, returned to them, after assuring himself that the
Rue t. Honore, which was dimly lighted by a few strag-
gling lamps, was totally deserted.
" Mons. de Croissi," said he, with embarrassment,
" two steps from this you will find a coach awaiting you,
which will bear you to a place of perfect safety ; but I
must confess to you that my instructions did not provide
for the presence of—"
He stopped and looked at Elizabeth.
" The presence of one whose safety is dearer to me than
my own," added Fabien. "If you cannot further be use-
ful to us, sir, speak without fear. I will seek at once an
asylum for this lady, and I will no longer be indebted to
you and to those who have employed you in a service
which I can never sufficiently repay. Only tell me the
name of my protector."
" Are you then really ignorant upon that point ?"
asked Vireton ; "do you not know that it is the Coad-
jutor who has concerted with me this plan of escape ?
Have you not guessed that I have been instructed to
conduct you to the Petit-Archeveque—to the Coadjutor's
own residence ?"
" I dare not think so ? this is the second time that noble
personage has saved my life, without my knowing why he
should take so warm an interest in my fate. But how did
he learn that this night I should be in the royal palace,
and that I should perhaps excite the anger of—of a
powerful person ?"
" You can ask him that question yourself ; all I know
is that he is perfectly well informed of all your proceed-
ings, and that I myself have apprised him of them. But,"
continued he, breaking off from his subject, " neither time
nor place are now fitting for explanations. Heaven is my
witness that I would render you assistance, as well as
this gentle lady, but I fear I shall outstep the orders I
have received. Nevertheless, it is imperative that we find
for her some place of safety."
" You see, dear Fabien," said Elizabeth, sighing,
"what embarrassment 'still cause you. But do you, sir,"
added she, addressing the Scholar, " do you know any
worthy family in Paris who could give me a shelter for
this night at least ?"
" Elizabeth," interrupted Fahien, with firmness, " I
will not consent to be separated from you ; and why not
now, in the midst of our perplexity, address ourselves to
the kind-hearted prelate who has so often come to our aid.
Mons. Eustache, would it be infringing the limits of your
orders to conduct us into the presence of the Coadjutor,
so that we may supplicate his assistance and protection?"
Eustache reflected for a few moments.
" Faith, we will see what can he done. M. le Coad-
jutor is a man who has abundant resources in cases of
difficulty. Now that the mischief is done, this lady must
accompany us, although perhaps I ought to have pro-
tested against her leaving the palace. Let us, however,
go forward ; the night is cold, and the lady already feels
its influence. Let us hope for the best."
The next moment they stepped into the Rue St. Honore,
and turned quickly to the left, passing along the Rue
Croix des Petits Champs, at which stood the principal
entrance to the Cloister- —that through which some hours
previous Fabien had passed with his brother. In a re-
cess in the street a coach was stationed, drawn by two
horses, the driver asleep on his seat, all around silent and
motionless.
Nevertheless, when the Scholar advanced to waken
up the driver, this solitude appeared suddenly peopled.
Five or six individuals envelopped in mantles, silent as
shadows, issued from the doorways in the vicinity
wherein they had been hidden, and quickly approached.
Elizabeth could scarcely restrain a cry of terror,
and pressed closely to Fabien ; both stopped ; but their
disquietude was not of long duration, in respect to these
phantoms. Eustache spoke to them a few words in an
under tone of voice, and they disappeared, as silently and
suddenly as if by enchantment. During this short con-
ference
the coachman had descended from his seat, and
opened the door of his carriage. Having got rid of his
silent companions, the Scholar invited his young compa-
nions to enter the coach, seating himself near-them. The
carriage was then driven away with all the speed that the
ponderous vehicles of the time would admit.
The mysterious apparitions which had but just seemed
to vanish before their eyes amazed Fabien and Elizabeth,
and they could not but harbour a vague suspicion of the
intentions of Vireton towards them.
" I will undertake," said the Scholar, breaking silence,
" that I can divine what is now occupying your thoughts.
You are surprised to have seen, on a sudden, people
springing up as if from out of the earth. Well, I need not
now make a secret of the circumstance, and I will tell yon
honestly the truth. It appears that you were to have been
engaged in an enterprise that the Coadjutor had deter-
mined with all his power to oppose ; he suspected that
you would refuse to take any part in the affair, and it was
to shield you from the consequence of your refusal that he
had arranged with me the plan of escape you have effected,
thatrt to my worthy cousin. But I confess to you that
if in place of refusing, you had accepted the mission in
question, I had orders to take you into custody as you
were leaving the cloister with your relation, and I need
hardly say that those persons whom I have just dismissed
would have found no difficulty in effecting the intended
capture."
Fabien remained pensive for a minute.
" I am the sport of passions and interests that I do not
understand," said he, sadly, " and in the chaos in which
I seem to be plunged I can hardly distinguish friends from
foes. But you, sir," added he, addressing Vireton,
" who are you ? What motive have you to brave these
real dangers to serve me—l who am unknown to you —I
cannot think you are merely a simple student of Sor-
bonne ?"
" And, nevertheless, nunquam magis aniica veritas,"
said the scholar, who always brought out his Latin to
help him when in a state of embarassment ; " it is the
exact truth. As for me, I brought myself once by chance
under the notice of a man whose custom it is richly to
reward all those who make themselves the instruments
of his good works and will, and for the carrying out of his
projects. The day on which the events on Pont-Neuf
occurred, my lord desired me to watch over you, and
bring him any intelligence of your movements, and of
your health, good sir. This day, then, after having es-
caped the notice of your brother's people, I went to the Co-
adjutor, ignorant, it is true, of the importance of the de-
tails that I possessed respecting you, but sure of engaging
his good offices in your favour. In fact, the information
I gave him of the sort of captivity you bad to endure—of
my visit to the Palace—of the danger I had run of being
discovered—joined to what he knew himself,—appeared
to interest him greatly. While I was with him he re-
ceived a letter written in cyphers, which announced that
you had already entered the Palace—at least so I sup-
posed, for his lordship immediately began to ask me about
my cousin Boniface, and upon the possibility of penetrat-
ing into the cloister and departing from it atpleasure. You
know the rest; and surely, sir, amidst the trouble in
which you now find yourself, if you are embarrassed in re-
cognising your friends, I think you need not reckon me
amongst the number of your enemies."
These explanations, vague as they were, began to put
Fabien upon the scent of the truth. It appeared evident
to him that the Coadjutor, who would save at any price
the life of the Prince de onde, could not find any surer
way of preventing the deed than by securing the person
of the man destined to commit it, and keeping him always
in sight. Doubtless the Coadjutor felt pity for his mis-
fortunes, which was mixed up with other motives ; hence
the kindly- caution he had given him at their first inter-
view, and the timely succour he had afforded to rescue
him 'from the hands of his brother. Although these
suppositions were reasonable, Fabien still wished to ques-
tion Eustache respecting several obscure circumstances,
when a dull sound caused by the carriage passing under
an archway, gave notice of their having arrived at the
conclusion of their journey.
(To be continued.)

THE CORN LAWS.—The Morning Herald remarks as
follows, on the statement published by Mr. Painter of
the Strand, which appeared in our paper a short time
since ;—We received a little tract a day or two since, en-
titled " The Corn Laws ; Facts are Stubbott Things."
It contains, in two pages, a great amount of important
information. But among its statements we find the fol-
lowing :—" The average consumption of " wheat is about
19,000,000 quarters annually, of "which 3,000.000 is im
ported." Now this is a most serious error. The writer
has looked merely to the imports from 1838 to 1840;
three years of short harvest. But how came he to over-
look the fact, that in three favourable years,
1833, 1834,
and 1835, only 175,480 quarters of foreign wheat passed
our Custom House, or less than 60,000 quarters per an-
num? This circumstance should never be allowed to
drop out of view, inasmuch as it proves, that in years of
average fruitfulness England is quite able to sustain its
own population.

RACY SPECIMENS FrtOM DEBAVE ON
LORD JOHN RUSSELL'S NIOTION.

For an optlit:e of the speeches in this effort of Whig-
Radio, lism to mist epresent and denounce the Irish policy
of government, and purchase back the favour and support
of O'Connell and his co-conspirators, we must refer the
readers of the Standard to out. usual Pat :dr.otentary sum-
mary. We (•rave found it impossible, however, in the
space allowed for parliamentary proceedings in a weekly
paper, to fu nish more than an outline; and we have there-
fore resorted, and shall perhaps continue to resort, to this
mode of giving to our readers such portions of the speeches
on both sides of the house as we conceive to be most wor-
thy of preservation in their original form. And first, to
shew the. spirit of malignant hostility towards his political
opponents with which Lord John Russell approached the
question before the house, we give verbatim

LORD JOHN RUSSELL'S ATTACK UPON THE CHARACTER
OF LORD LYNDHURST.

" Is there," said his lordship, " no person in this coun-
try who has endeavoured to excite feelings of in
the people of England towards the people of Ireland? Is
there no person who affixed to them that name proper
only to persons born out of the Queen's allegiance? And
for what purpose was this said ? For the purpose of de-
priving them of the same privileges which were enjoyed
with respect to corporations by the people of England.
(Cheers.) I ask where that person now is? Has the At-
torney-General prosecuted him in the Queen's Bench?
(Laughter.) Has the Attorney-General made a speech of
eleven hours showing the enormity of his offence ? (Laugh.
ter, and opposition cheers.) I know it may be said that
the words were spoken in Parliament, and that the privi-
leges of Parliament secure that person from all proceedings
in a court of law. But is he in any way deprived of the
confidence of the crown ? Is he marked with its disfavour,
and rejected from the Queen's counsels ? On the contrary,
the very highest place in the Queen's counsels is assigned
to him—he is at the head of the magistracy and of the law
of England, and stands the very person to direct the pro-
secution again?. Mr. O'Connell for having excited ill-will
amongst the people of Ireland towards the people of Eng-
land. (Loud cheers from the opposition.) Was there
anything so monstrous as this inequality ? And I might
say, likewise, I do not believe that person holds the situa- ,
tion which he fills on account of any superior opinion of
his judgment in the court over which he presides, for I
believe that no duties are more highly paid, nor pprformed
more carelessly, than his duties—(Expressions of dissent)
but it is on account of his political delinquences—it is on
account of his hostility to the people of Ireland— it is for
these reasons that he had obtained his office. (Loud cries
of Oh, oh, ch'.)"
The above unwarrantable and foul attack was met by
the following
VINDICATION OF LORD LYNDHURST BY SIR JAMES