The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1845-02-04 00:00:00

LONDON SHARE MARKET,

Churnet Valley were last done at Si. Birmingham and Glou-
cester 127. New 31, Bristol and Gloucester 561. Cambridge and
Uncoln 5. Eastern Counties 19, Direct Norther, 24. Great
Southern and Western (Ireland) 12*, Great North of England
153, Great Western 179, Halves 103. Hull and Selby 734, Bir-
mingham 238, Brighton 55. South Western 80, Croydon DIV,
Lend 'n and York si, Midland 129, Manchester and Leeds 149,
Newcastle Junction 69. Newcastle and Berwick 17, South
Eastern 50, Scarborough Branch 45, Boulogne and Amiens,
51, Orleans and Vierzon IC. Great Northern of France si,
Paris and Orleans 44/, Paris and Rouen 424, Orleans and Bor-
deaux 71.

THE HOUSE OF SICKNESS.—HOW painfully is the
sense of severe illness diffused through every part of a
household. How solemn is the influence it sheds on every
individual, and every object; the noiseless step, the whis-
pered words, the closed curtains, the interruption to the
ordinary avocatione of life, or the performance of them in
gloom and sadness. When wealth and its appliances
exist, these things take all the features of extreme care and
solicitude for the sufferer ; all the agencies of kindness and
skill are brought into active exertion, to minister to the
rich man in sickness; but when poverty and its evils are
present—when the struggle is against the pressure of want,
as well as the sufferings of malady, the picture is indeed a
dark one. The many deficiencies in comfort, which daily
habit has learned to overlook, the privations which in the
active conflict with the world are forgotten, now, come
forth in the solitude of the sick house, to affright and af-
flict us, and we sorrow over miseries long lost to memory
till now. Never since the fatal illness which left O'Do-
noghue a widower, had there been any thing like dange-
rous sickness in the house; and like most people who
have long enjoyed the blessings of uninterrupted health.
they had no thought of such a calamity, nor deemed it
among the contingencies of life. Now, however, the
whole household felt the change. The riotous laughter of
the kitchen was silenced, the loud speaking hushed, the
doors banged by the wind, or the ruder viol nee of care-
less hands, were closed nniselessly—every thing betokened
that sorrow was there. O'Donoghue himself paced to and
fro in the chamber of the old tower, now, stopping to cast
a glance down the glen, where he still hoped to see Mark
approaching, now, resuming his melancholy walk in sad-
ness of heart. In the darkened sick-room, and by the
bed, sat Sir Archibald, concealed by the curtain, but near
enough to give assistance to the sick boy should he need
it. He sat buried in his own gloomy thoughts, rendered
gloomier, as he listened to the hurried ht.,- athings and low
mutterings of the youth, whose fever continued to increase
upon him. The old ill-tempered cook. whose tongue was
the terror of the region she dwelt in, sat smoking by the
flee, nor noticed the presence of the aged fox-hound, who
had followed Kerry into the kitchen, and now lay asleep
before the fire. Kerry himself ceased to hum the snatches
of songs and ballads, by which he was accustomed to be-
guile the weary day. There was a gloom on every thing,
nor was the aspect without doors more cheering. The rain
beat heavily in drifts against the window; the wind shook
the old trees virdently, and tossed their gnarled limbs in
wild confusion, sighing with mournful cadence along the
deep glen, or pouring a long melancholy note through the
narrow corridors of the old house. The sound of the
storm, made more audible by the dreary silence, seemed
to weigh down every heart. Even the hare-legged little
gossoon, Mickey, who had come over from Father Luke's
with a message, sat mute and sad, and as he moved his
naked foot among the white turf ashes, seemed to feel the
mournful depression of the hour.—The O'Donoghue.
M ARRIAGE FEES.-1 am prepared to say, that in seven-
s of the stolen marriages in this neighbourhood,
nothing more has been desired, than to avoid the publicity
of hearing their own names " called out" in church, or a
dread of the jeers of their acquaintance, who may have
heard them so published : indeed, some hare said to me,
" Sir, I will be married by license, for I don't want to be
' called out' in church ;" but when told that, instead of
fin shillings, the charge for marriage by banns, it would
cost them two pounds and ten shillings, a sigh has fol-
lowed ; and, " I suppose, then, I must be asked," has
been the reluctant reply. * * * * May Ibe
allowed to inquire whether there exists any moral reason

why the rich should have certain privileges in this most
important matter, which the poor have not ? The poor
have their feelings of delicacy and bashful reserve on these
occasions, as well as the rich ; .and, as we ourselves would
shrink from having our own names published before a
congregation, let us believe that many of our humbler
neighbours, about to enter on that solemn engagement,
feel as we do on the subject. But perhaps. sir, )ou will
inquire, if these things are so, is there any remedy ? To
which my ready reply is, I believe there is; and my pro-
posed remedy is such as will, I verily believe, if adopted, .
prove the source of a considerable addition to her Ma-
jesty's revenue ; for, let us notice the charge for a marriage
license—l have one before me, which cost two pounds ;
of this sum ten shillings, for the stamp, went into her Ma-
jesty's exchequer; ten shillings into the pockets of the
surrogate, by whom it was procured ; and one pound to
the registrar and other officers of the diocesan court of
Chester. Now, I would propose the following alterations.
Let the whole charge for a marriage license be ten shil-
lings at the utmost ; let it be lawful to be given on a stamp
of five shillings value; let the officers of the diocesan
court be satisfied with five shillings ; and then, in lieu of
a ten shilling fee to a surrogate, let every beneficed clergy-
man, in whose church or chapel marriages may be lawfully
solemnized, let every such clergyman, I say, be declared
competent to administer the oaths required in such cases,
and to procure the licenses from his diocesan court ; the
party seeking a license to be charged with the postages.
I would further proceed to abolish all extra fees for mar-
riage by license, feeling assured, that all persons of wealth
would still present their minister with a token of their
regard suitable to the occasion ; and, in order effectually to
prevent clandestine marriages, and improper and illegal
unions, seven days' notice of a wish to be married by li-
cense should, in all cases, be required; the said notice
should be given in writing, and a certificate of residence
in the parish, describing the place of abode, and signed by
a respectable householder, should be rendered at the same
time ; and during those seven days, between the date of
notice and the day of granting the license, it should be the
duty of the clergyman to satisfy himself of the correctness
of the statements made to him ; and, when so satisfied, be
should grant the license, and proceed to marry the parties,
charging only the same dues as if they were married after
publication of banns.—Letter to Sir R. Peel, by Rev. A.
Hewlett, M.A.