The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-01-30 00:00:00

ANNUM, MEETING OF THE SEAMEN'S
READING ROOM AND SCHOOL SOCIETY.

Last evening, a numerous and respectable meeting was
held, at the Music-hall, Bold-street, in support of this
highly-valuable society, and to receive the report of the
proceedings of the pist year. Amongst the gentlemen
upon the platform, we noticed the Mayor, Thos. Sands,
Esq., and the following clergymen and gentlemen, viz :
Rees. H ,gts yI Nile, T. Nolan, W. Falloon,
Hampton, John Irwin. Mrssrs. A. Hodeson, C. Cotes-
worth, J. Royden, Middleton, Howard, Payne,
Chadwick, and G 'ode.
The Rev. Mr. NIAYNAR.D, officiating minister of the
Mariner's Church, having opened the meeting with prayer,
it wis proposed, and carried unanimously, that the chair
be taken by the Mayor, who proceeded briefly to open the
business of the meeting. He (the Mayor) had been re-
quested to take the chair chiefly on account of the high
office which he had the honour to hold in the town. lle
was proud that he had the privilege of so doing; and he
should endeavour, to the utmost of his ability, to wield
the powers of that high office to advance the cause which
they were met together to advocate. There was no class
of men to whom they were more indebted—he might say,
so much indebted--as to that class. (Cheers; amidst
which Mr. IVl'Neile entered the meeting.) He was glad
of that cheer. It shewed that they appreciated the efforts
making to repay their obligations to the sailors. No class
of men had hitherto received so little attention as that
class; but within the last few years the sympathies of the
public had been roused in their behalf. They had been
provided with a church, with a school, and a reading-room,
and the same energies which had accomplished this amount
of good were still at work for their benefit. He would I
leave it to those gentlemen who would have to follow him
to explain the objects of the present meeting, and con-
cluded by calling upon the Rev. Mr. Maynard to read the
society's rennrt.
Mr. M • yte taD then read the report, which stated that
the lead; g o i .ct of the society was, to provide a read-
ing-roon wif's fire, light, and books, which shall be open
to the s cane,/ from six o'clock p.m., till half -past nine:
to supply tzb,aries for the use of the crews at sea : to es-
tablish a day and Sunday school : and to offurd instruc-
tion in navigation to boys and apprentices training up to
a seafaring life. In carrying out .here objects, they had
been blessed with great success, and rewarded by the gra-
titude of those for whose benefit they had wrought. The
number of seamen constantly frequenting their reading-
room when on shore had increased, during the past year,
by more than 300. As soon as their funds would permit,
it was their purpose to establish a similar room, in con-
nexion with the present, at the north or south end of the
town, as might be thought most desirable. They had also
been able, though to a limited extent, to suppl librries
to the crews of vessels at sea. They desired toy calla the
attention of merchants and shipowners to their navigation
school, which is open every evening from six to half-past
nine, to which subscribers of one guinea are privileged to
send apprentices free of charge, and at which a considera-
ble number had, last year, received instruction. At the
daily school, established for the daughters of seamen,
there were now fifty-eight on the books, and forty-eight
to fifty was the average attendance. (Mr. Maynard then
read a paragraph from the Liverpool Standard, describing,
in highly flattering terms, the proficiency of the scholars,
as evinced at their last half-yearly examination) and
proceeded to state from the report, that several ladies
bad kindly volunteered to visit the school in rotation,
and added that it was open on the sabbath as a Sunday
school—that the attendance of the girls was good, but
that the boys bad fallen off owing to the want of teachers.
Upon the subject of the pecuniary condition of the
society the report stated that their income for 1842, in-
clnding a balance of £7 13s. 3d. from the preceding year,
was £lO5 Os. 4d., and the expenses £23 19e. 5&d., leaving
a balance of £lB 18s. 61d, in arrear. This year the in-
come has increased to £16145. 31d., whilst the expenses
are nearly the same as last year, viz., £123 7s. Bd.
thus leaving a baiance in the hands of the treasurer of
£4O 17s. 14d. The report concluded with an urgent ap-
peal to the shipowners and the merchants of the port to
come forward in aid of the society's efforts " to discharge
the debt of gratitude which is due from all parties to that
long-neglected, but valuable class of men—our sailors."
After a few brief but feeling remarks, and a description
of the origin and growth of the society, the Chairman
called upon the Rev. Mr. Nolan to read the first resolution.
The Rev. Mr. NOLAN, in a long and eloquent speech,
moved the adoptiou of the report. ADAM HODGSON, Esq.
seconded the motion, which was carried unanimously.
to The Rev. W. HAMPDEN moved the second resolution.
he effect that the meeting heard with satisfaction, and
gratitude to God, the progress which had been made
hitherto by this institution, and desired to express their
opinion, that it had special claims on the merchants, the
shipowners, and public generally, for increased support.
JOHN HOWARD, Esq. seconded the resolution proposed
by Mr. Hampden.
The Rev. H. WNEILE on rising was received with
deafening cheers. He said :—Mr. Mayor, my Reverend
friend, Mr. Maynard, invited me to come and address you,
sir, and this meeting, and with great pleasure I accepted
the invitation, and I came not into this room, not deter-
mined, as other gentlemen said, to speak, but determined
to speak. (Cheers and laughter.) And the resolution
have been requested to propose is this :—that this meet-
ing pitying the condition of the seamen while on shore,
exposed as they are to innumerable evils and temptations,
desires to express a hope that this institution will be the
means of promoting the establishment of a sailors' Home,
which has been long wanted in this port." If I mistake
not. this is beginning at the light end • for I very cordi-
ally enter into the argument which has been already ad-
duced and well argued with reference to the spiritual be-
nefit and religious instruction of our seamen. All these
argunnts, intrinsically excellent in themselves, relatively
important in the bearings they had on missions abroad,
have my very cordial consent and co-operation in every-
thing that can be done to carry them out practically.
(Hear, hear.) But lam sorry to feel compelled to say
that I think, although there are individuals, a few, and, I
hope, an increasing number amongst the seamen who are
in such temporal circumstances as to leave them at liberty
quietly to avail themselves of the literary and religious
provision made for them by my rev. brother, Mr. May-
nard, I think their number is very few. I think the tem-
. poral condition of the seamen of this port demands our
attention in the first instance. (Hear and cheers.) My
resolution aims at it; and I have ventured to say that I
think it demands attention in the first instance, because,
although no temporal circumstances. however unfavour-
able, can be pleaded in the sight of God as any just ex-
cuse for the intentional neglect of religion, yet it is our
part, as men feeling for men, and desiring to do good to
men as we find them—(hear, hear)—not to men such as
we would have them to be, but to men such as we find
they are. (Hear, hear.) It is our duty to proceed upon
principles of plain, practical common sense; and I
would ask how, on such principles can we expect
attendance on the means, or attention to the words
of grace from—(hear, hear)--men who are exposed to a
system of cunningly devised frauds, which not only rob
them of a part of their property, but also, as a natural
consequence, irritate them into angry passions while they
are sober, and therefore make them willing to throw away
both their angel and their sobriety, and to cast themselves
with rollicking heedlessness into the lap of debauchery,
—another branch of wickedness prepared by their perse-
cutors in this town. (Hear, hear.) Shall Ibe told that
such persons do, above all other persons, require religion ?
I deny it. (Hear, hear.) The fairest moralist, the most
upright, well. fed, well-clothed Pharisee in the town re-
quires religion quite as much as the most dissolute sailor
in the town. (Cheers.) But I shall not discuss that
question now; but this I would say, that whatever super-
human virtue, or whatever super-angelic tempers other
religionists may profess to enjoy, I candidly confess that
if I were called to endure cold and hunger up to the point
of pain, and a man came before me and said, "pray to
God," and another said, " here is a loaf and eat that,"
I would turn away from the first man, and if I were rob-
bed and plundered as many of the sailors in this port are,
shipped on paying an exorbitant price, and unshipped
again because others were fools enough to pay a larger
price, and a man met me and irritated me to religious
discussion and offered me a tract, and another said, " come
here, I value your soul as your chief part. but here is the
way to the registry where you may get shipped on paying
a shilling, and don't go near them alligators or sharks,"
why whether I had an ear or not for the first man, I guess
I would have two open ears for the second man. (Hear,
and laughter.) I think that the evils to which I have
now alluded are not sufficiently understood in this town;
and if you will allow me I shall let the sailors speak for
themselves. The rev. gentleman here read a memorial
which had been sent by the sailors to the council in the
autumn of last year, cotnplaieing of the impositions praC-
, tired upon them by the shipping masters—, „Ife also read
a memorial, to a similar effect, which was more recently
presented by the sailors to the merchanta : and then con.
tinned :—There may be some persons here who are
curious to know what are these shipping-offices against
which the sailors memorialized the council and the mer-
chants. I hold in my hand a paper setting forth the rules
and regulations, and charges they make on shipping a man.
They have entered into a combination, that no man shall
ship a sailor except themselves. (" Hear," and a laugh.)
Here is one of their rules :—" That if we can find out
that any tailor, shopkeeper, or boarding-house keeper,
shall cash any note from the Bethel Union, he or she must
not expect any of our future custom." (" Hear," and
laughter.) This is something like the exclusive dealing of
some of my fellow-countrymen. (Hear, hear.) Is that
meant to intimidate others from cashing the notes, who
get them anywhere else except at their own offices ?
(Cries of " Yes.") Then this is a system of tyranny
justly complained against in the memorials, and against
which it is our bounden duty to move, if we wish to get a
willing ear from the seamen for our religious instruction.
(Cheers.) Perhaps it may be asked, how does it happen
that the captains sanction such proceedings ; and how can
they proceed unless the captains sanction them ? It
should be remembered, in answer to this, that all the
captains who command vessels out of this port are not of
that class that are altogether themselves above temptation.
(Hear.) Some of them are employed,of comparatively a
low class, to whom it is an object to get a present—some-
thing like what the French call a douceur—that is, a
sweetener. (Laughter.) A plain Englishman would call
it a bribe ; but is it possible I am insinuating that any of
those shipping masters can bribe the captains ? Oh !
of doing things.
there's a way (Great laughter.) The
captain, for example, might have a worn-out hat, and a
nice new hat would be very handy before sailing. (Con-
tinued laughter.) And some of those shipping masters,
knowing people,
might come quietly, and in a very gentle
and insinuating manner say, " Will you get a ship ?"
" Yes."—" You want hands ?" " I do."—" Take none
but what I send you, and I'll get one of them to drop a
nice new hat in the cabin for you, hut say nothing about
it, or a topcoat, or a jar or two of pickles for the voyage."
and cheers.) Oh ! it's no strange
(Roars of laughter,
thing lam speaking. The understanding is entered into,
and the /nen arc sent. They are sent from the office, and
they pass the captain ; but, in the meantime, the shipping

masters have cribbed from Poor Jack three, four, or ten
times the price of the hat. ( Hear, hear.) And now,
what a curious thing : the crew have paid fpr the captain's
hat ! (Roars o` laughter, and cheers.) It reminds me of
what Sydney Smith said of the Pennsylvania men the
other day. He said, that if one of those men were to
come over to England, he ought to give his coat to one,
and his hat to another, and so on; and upon the same
principle, every Jack should have something, and leave
the masters to go bareheaded. (" Hear," and continued
laughter.) Now this is not to be borne. I have put it in
this plain shape, that you may understand ; and I think
we ought to make a general move, and show them that we
understand it. I believe it is a fact, that until the tem-
poral circumstances are looked into, until a registry
of .te. is established, and until a Sailors' Home is got
up. we are labouring in vain to get them in num-
bers to hear us. Our chaplain is at work, but how
many of the real Jacks go to hear him ? Why,
few. Some do—the, more the better ; and where are the
rest? Tiiese gentlemen, the slipping-masters, could tell
a tale of where they are. (Hear, hear.) They have their
houses for them, and houses of all sorts, except good, all
bad ones, for ack all day 1 in,e, to keep him away from
the Mariner's Church ' • and until he sees that we are feel-
ing for him, for his body as well as his soul, he will turn
away from the canting hypocrisy that tells him to go and
pray while he is left to be robbed, and plundered, and se-
duced by wicked men. (Loud cheers.) And what can be
done in the way of remedy for this? A registry office is
alluded to. A registry office might do much good ; and
there is a registry office now in operation. It is, I sup-
pose, doing good. It is taking the right course. The
rev. gentlemen having here read the circular from the re-
gistry office, proceeded : —Here is a movement in a right
direction. Some one says, " it is managed by dissenters ;"
and what if it is ? (Cheers.) My answer is—the dissen-
ters have shown churchmen a good example, and let
churchmen follow that example and get another office.
(Cheers.) There is plenty of work for two : there is more
than plenty for two. (Renewed cheers.) Do I ask these
gentlemen to give up their good work because they are
dissenters? Far from it. (Great applause.) I wish them
God speed ; and then I turn on churchmen and say—do
you like good work ? if so, establish another office. I
say again there is room for two : I don't like mixing
colours ; I wish every man to show his own. (Cheers.) I
myself go under the colours of the good old trusty ship
the church of England, which e is a Christian church
years before there was either dissent or popery ha Eng-
land. (Great cheers.) I stand on her old weather bea-
ten timbers, sound to the last. (Vehement cheering.) I
stand, I say, to my tackle or my gun—ready, all
ready : I wo'nt compromise a rope in the rigging,
nor lower one square inch of her canvas before mortal
men. (Tremendous cheering.) Let us have a Church
of England registry ; and now we come to ask, what
has become of the Church of England a, merchants
and shipowners of this great town ? Why e they not
thronged here upon the platform ? (Hear.) I will tell
you what I think is part of the reason of it, though it
should make you laugh. I believe that many of them if
they had thought that the object of this meeting was to
get a registry office—that it was to attend to the tempo-
ral wants of the sailors,—that it was to lead on in a direc-
tion towards laying the foundation for a Church of Eng-
land registry and Sailors' Home—l have a strong suspicion
some of them would have come; but they thought that
this was merely got up for the purpose of learning the
methodistical evangelicalism of Mr. Maynard and Mr.
M'Neile. (Hear, and laughter.) They consider that they
have too much good sense to listen to our enthusiasm ; but
I hope they will be told that we want them to establish a
Church of England registry, a Church of England home,
and a Church of England Chaplain, that the sailor may
have a place to go to where he may meet friends, that
there should be a savings bank in the house, where his
money would be increasing like a snowball rolling on a
green, where he would have a comfortable bed, and where
he would get leave to chew his tobacco when and as
he pleased. (Roars of laughter and great cheers.) Now,
this is not only what we want, but this is what we must
have; and I hope we shall never let the merchants have
peace till we get it. (Renewed cheers.) I never under-
stood the matter, as I understand it now, till very lately.
Everything works in a circle. When some of the sailor-
men saw my name to the bills for this meeting, one of
them came up to my house, rung the bell and said—" I
want to speak to you, Mr. M'Neile," and he sat down
and told me the whole about the ships' masters, and how
they charged him two shillings in the pound on cashing
his note in a slop-shop. Was not that a shame? (Hear,
hear.) He eat half of it in goods ; and for getting money
for the other half, he had to pay two shillings in the
pound. I dont think I have got thoroughly at the'right
bones of the case yet. (A laugh); but I wish for informa-
tion on the whole subject. (Several voices—" You shall
have it sir") And, now, I am happy to be able
further to say, that application has been made to the
council on behalf of the Sailors' Home. There was a
building which it was thought might be got. However,
there were good reasons why that could not be given.
But there is a piece of land belonging to the corporation
near the Custom-house, where a Sailor's Home might be
built, and the application is still before the council ; and
now the chairman of the council is our chairman to night,
and we shall send him with thr e cheers for that land.
(Applause.) This is what must be done, I hope there
are gentlemen here to bear a report of this to influential
parties who will put down their names on each side,
thus:— and and Co., £500; -- and Co.,
£d00; and 100, until we get a sufficient
sum to build a Sallors' Co.,dome; and it must be a substan-
tial building. There must be beds, such as I saw in the
Sailors' Home in London, where they have built one on
the site of a playhouse, and where every man has a bed to
himself, about as broad as the Duke of Wellington's bed-
The duke has a bed that he had with him on the field of
warfare. " Why your grace," said a person to him on
one occasion, " its not broad enough to turn in." " Turn
in," he replied, " when its time to turn in your bed, its
time to turn out." (Great laughter and cheers.) Do
Englishmen require to be stimulated to give money for
such a work as this?—for sailors? Surely, surely, the
very name of sailor should act like magic on the name of
Englishman. (Hear.) Are not England and sailors iden-
tified throughout the world ? (Hear, hear.) Who are they
who have carried the name, and the arm, and the influence
of the Government of England to the four quarters
of the globe? Who are they that, when Europe lay pros-
trate at the feet of the Corsican tyrant, and when Bona-
parte collected his hundreds and thousands of soldiers on
the heights of Boulogne, waiting to pounce upon England
—who manned the ramparts and laughed him to scorn?—
who made his legions good for nothing? Why, British
seamen. (Great cheers.) And talk of commerce, of
manufactures, of leagues and corn laws—why, sir, what
were mills and machinery without seamen? Why, you
are men of skill—men who know whether they refer up-
wards or not to Him who has placed the constellations in
the heavens, and set boundaries to the mighty deep—men
who know how to wend their way through the trackless
ocean and make the land after a week, or a fortnight, or
a month, full as true as if they had seen the head land all
the time—men of enterprise—men of hardihood—men of
endurance—men who will stand to their post in drifting
snow and burning sun, and finish their work with cheer-
fulness. (Great cheers.) They have emptied the riches
of the Indus on the tables of our merchants; they have
heaped them so, that they revel in the enjoyments
furnished by distant lands. (Hear, hear, and cheers.)
These are the men on whom you are luxuriating twice a-
day. Your crop of tea ! Where did it come from? Why
the British seaman brought it all the way from China.
(Cheers.) And shall Englishmen neglect the sailors?
Will English women neglect the sailors ? Will shop-
keepers,—tradesmen, merchants, neglect the sailors?
(Hear, hear.) I cannot imagine a higher climax of in-
gratitude :than neglect of sailors. I have heard of in-
stances of indignation, roused up by feelings of in-
gratitude, but none have greater cause to complain of
ingratitude than the sailors. I have heard of the indigna-
tion of the Athenian orator ; I have heard of the indigna-
tion of the Roman senator; I have heard of the
indignation of the Peruvian hero ; I have heard of the
indignation of one of our statesmen, who asked, " shall
man have property in his fellow man I—shall man be the
sole and degraded possessor of the horse -whipped flesh
of his brother ?" but for indignation, exceeding the
thunder of Demosthenes, exceeding the indignation of
Junius Brutus, exceeding the warmth and fervour of
Rolla, exceeding the touching tenderness of our own
Wilberforce,—l say, I would rise higher to see ingratitude
to the sailors of England, now seeking a home—a home
from plunder, a home from drunkenness, a borne from
debauchery, a home from fraud : " Give us a home and
we will listen to your instruction—send us a chaplain
—send us your Bible and your Prayer-book, and we shall
thank you and bless God ; but give us a home." The
rev. gentleman here resumed his seat amidst loud and
ontlussiaatic demonstrations of applause.
After Mr. M'Neile bad sat down, and while the col.:
faction was going on, Mr.- MAA-2.r.tun detailed to the
meeting a number of interesting anecdotes of dream-
stances connected with seamen, which had come under
his notice during the course of his ministry amongst them,
which we should have been glad indeed to have given to
our readers had not our space been so largely drawn upon.
Mr. W. J. TomuNsos seconded the resolution, which
he prefaced with a brief explanation.
Mr. WEILE ros
e to speechsulan omission which be had
made in tN
he course of hisp. He had intended to
caution his friends, the sailors present, to avoid any quar-
rel with the seamen's unions ; not to go near them, and
if they met them in the streets, to get out of 'their com-
pany as soon as possible. There might be present some
of those shipping masters, and if be had touched them in
the course of his remarks, he would ask them to go home
and repent of their past sins. •
The Rev. W. FALLOON proposed the next resolution,
which called for the thanks of the .meeting to the com-
mittee and officers of this association. Mr. Falloon bad
been struck, upon coming to this meeting, that the time
was peculiarly appropriate for originating a sailor's home.
It was blowing hard, and his feelings carried him at once
to the poor seamen tossing upon the deep, and to the
desirableness of an attempt to provide for his comforts on
shore, and to prepare his mind for the perils and possible
fate of a mariner's life. The reverend speaker appealed
to the meeting in a most feeling speech, (of which our limits
will not even allow us to furnish an outline) to give their
thanks to the committee, and to aid them in their noble
exertions.

My. iioYnEN briefly seconded the motion, which was
carried nem. con.
Mr. CHARLES COTESWORTR, moved the thanks of
the meeting to the Mayor, which was seconded by Mr.
JOHN EDEN, and carried with acclamation.
The MAYOR briefly returned thanks; and after the
Doxology was sung the meeting dissolved.
e may remark, that on no occasion have we ever seen
the Music-ball so crowded as on this occasion, or a meet-
ing anywhere so enthusiastic. The collection made in the
room amounted to £l7. I4s. 61, which, we venture to
say, will be sw•ellerl by the contributions of merchants and
e,hei s out of door, to a much more satisfactory sum.
This, in fact, we trust we may consider as principary 'he
gift of the poor seamen themse:ves, 4- great number of
wham attended the meeting.

Literature.

JANUARY.

(For the Liverpool Standard.)

By the author of " Rural Sonnets," " spartacus, the Roman
Gladiator," and other tragedies.
Hardy as yon fresh bays upon his brow.
Witt, full-blown tanrustinits interweav'd,
Ere yet the husbaridmen resume the plough,
Or festive days by labour are retriev'd—
Lo, JANUARY leads the youl.g new year,
appy in welcolles, and with h we elate,
Though round its form cold winds and clouds career,
4nd barren would appear its first est te.
Now—if the weather freeze, or hind the pound—
Manures are carted, and the routes repair'd :
In forest haunts the wood. .en's strokes res.,und :
For earliest produce gard-ns are prepar'd :
And, here and there, just peep above the soil,
Signs of the life wherewith vast nature's womb doth toil.
Inner Temple, Jan. 20, 1844. J. JONES.

SCENA,

SUNG BY MISS WHITNALL AT MISS C. WELLER'S FIRST

CONCERT.
(The words and music by Miss Christiana Weller.)

Ozema.—Bright visions of the past all fled !
Gay dreams of youth all swept away;
Hopes once so cherished now are dead,
And sleep unheeded in my lay.

The heart is chilled that warmly beat,
That glow'd with life's delusive joys
Fond memory only holds her seat,
Unharmed 'mid all proud time destroys.

My mind is one ur.varied blank;
My life is one unbroken sigt ;
I n.ourn my weary stay on earth,
And gladly would, this moment, die.

None soothe with balmy words my pain;
None dry the tears that ceaseless flow,
Nor with sweet tunes bid me restrain
Their Bushings from the founts of woe.

When o'er my soul sleep gently steals.
And thought, unshackled. wanders free,
A fleeting bliss my spirit feels,
But wakes to mourn reality.

Those hours are happy, but how few,
Delusion is my only stay;
Kind heaven give my despair her due,
And angels waft my soul away.

CARDINAL DE RETZ,
on
THE COURTIER'S PLO

BY PETER POPJOY, ESQ.

(For the Liverpool Standard.)

CHAPIER, Xl.—(Continued.)
(We left Fabien about to reply to the Queen.)

The most profound silence reigned at that moment in
the lofty chamber.
" Madame," said Fabien, in a respectful but firm
tone, " I must supplicate your pardon if I take more
than common precaution against any mistake on this
occasion; and that your grace will permit me to inquire
if it is really the great Conde, the first prince of the
blood, who is thus designated as " an enemy to the
state ?"

A low murmur ran through the assembly. The Queen
blushed deeply.
" And why not, Sir," said she, with vehemence, "if
he, whom you, on your part, term the Great Conde,' is
insolent and factious, a man whose ambition would lead
him to betray France and the King. Why put such a
question—can I have been deceived ? Will you refuse to
obey Your sovereign ?
The Regent stamped her foot with passion. The con-
spirators appeared confounded. Fabien alone stood un-
moved.

`: Most gracious liege"--replied Fabien, with an ani-
mated voice and manner —" Do I really see your grace
—do I hear the grand-daughter of Charles the Fifth ?
Where are we ? Ought we to enter the palace of the
Queen of France, furtively, stealthily, in the dead of
night, gliding in obscurity like bad men, intent upon
some wicked purpose ? Where is the majesty of the
throne ? where the Queen ? I see no one here but a mere
woman, who hiding herself amongst midnight conspira-
tors, is about to employ an assassin."
The boldness of these words struck the courtiers dumb
—they appeared in a complete stupor : not one dared to
open his mouth to check the imprudent enthusiast.
"Audacious !" exclaimed Anne of Austria, instantly
rising from her seat, every bad passion now aroused. " Is
there not o:-.e present to silence this daring knave." The
courtiers stood aloof like statues. Fabien fell on his knee,
catching the hem of the Regent's robe —•
" Hear me ! oh, hear me, noble mistress, but for one
moment," continued the youth, with enthusiasm ; " listen
to me--but an instant : I know that I am a lost man ; I
know that the dungeons of the Chatelet or the Bastille
are ready to receive me ; I know that I have sacrificed
myself that you might hear the truth that otherwise would
be hidden from you ! The frightful step that you, ma-
dame, have been advised by bad men to take, will not
save the state. No, gracious lady, though they may tell
you so—the blood of the bravest defender must not be
thus ignobly and traitorously shed by an obscure hand, in
ambuscade. Let the scales fall from your eyes, noble
lady ; think of your illustrious ancestors, think of the sa-
credness of the power you hold from God !"
Anne of Austria laughed convulsively.
" And who has brought before us this contemptible
preacher," said she, in a tone of bitter irony. " Who
has dared to introduce to us this presumptuous moralist ?
Is this a new insult devised by my enem.es ? Sirs," said
she, apparently suffocated with passion, " he who has
prepared this for us shall bitterly repent it." At the
next moment a nobler impulse suddenly arising in her
mind, with that buoyancy so prevalent in capricious
tempers, she quickly added, turning to Fabien—
" So, then, you believe yourself to be here amongst an
assembly of conspirators, who meditate a bad action. Be
it so ; but do you know where this convocation of con-
spirators is held ? Do you know in what place you are
at this moment ? You are in my oratory in the Cardi-
nal's palace. You know me not ? Look at me well : I
am the Queen Regent. Look at these gentlemen, also :
this is Monsieur de Tellier, this De Servien, and De
Lionne—ministers and sub-secretaries of state ; this is
M. de Chateaunea, the keeper of the seals ; this the Ma-
rechale d'Hocquincourt, general-in-chief of the King's
armies : the whole of the council of the Regency
you see before you—these are the most strenuous de-
fenders, the most zealous supporters of my son Louis.
Look at us all, sir. Little does it matter to us whether
you believe or not that the royal power is fallen so low,
that the Regent and her ministers are reduced to conspire
in the dark, like discontented citizens, and that they are
reduced to supplicate a poor country gentleman like
yourself to save the state by a blow of a poignard."
The Queen, unable any longer to moderate the vio•
lence of her feelings, sunk on the seat nearest to her, and
covered her face with her hands, to hide the scalding
tears that fell abundantly down her cheeks. These
emotions were not unfelt by those who stood around : the
courtiers were not rendered so completely callous by po-
litical intrigue, as to be altogether devoid of generous
thoughts, and they could not but experience some touches
of pity for all the evils with which France was over-
whelmed. The Baron profited by the moment of confu-
sion to draw near his brother, and whisper to him—

" Unhappy boy—retract or, " but Fabien, com-
pletely pre-occupied by his generous design, heard him
not ; he remained prostrated at the feet of the Queen,
and exclaimed, in an agony of heart, clasping his hands
together, " Oh, Madame, in the name of God, do not
overwhelm me with your anger and contempt. I have
not yielded to a vain and ridiculous temerity in thus
telling you a cruel truth. I have fulfilled my duty at the
peril of drawing upon myself your anger—a duty,
Madame, that I regarded as sacred. I am but one of
the most obscure, the humblest of your subjects—like
others, I owe you profound respect, devoted duty, and
ardent love. I will do your bidding without a murmur,
at the very cost of my life, but God forbid, Madame,
that I should sacrifice my honour and my conscience in
any cause."
Anne of Austria appeared at length to have conquered
the tenderness that had awakened in her breast the most
painful recollections. She raised her head, and replied
with a haughty air,
" Whoa think you, Sirs, of the insolence of this young
preacher P If he has done nought but wound the heart
of a queen and mother in recalling to her in what a state
of abasement she had allowed the power of her son to
fall, she cannot forget that he has also expressed himself
in a manner that ought not to be permitted in an august
presence—but be possesses your secret and mine—
nothing remains for me but to dispose of him."
Fabien rose, and waited his doom with calmness and
dignity. Those around regarded him in silence, as if to
communicate to him their defiance; but no one offered
any advice, when the Countess de Montglat, who, du-
ring the scene, had suffered the utmost agony of mind,
advanced into the midst of the circle formed around the
Queen, and exclaimed with despair,
" Oh, Madame, did I not tell your majesty that he
could not accept this office. But have pity on him—
pardon him my liege—he is faithful, loyal, and generous
—he will not betray your secret."
" Are you about to resume your weepings and wail-
ings, De Montglat," interrupted the Queen, somewhat
softened. " But I am tired of all this intriguing, and it
was only at your earnest supplication that I consented to
your coming with me. You must he aware, added the Re-
gent coldly, to yield to your entreaty—this folly—for folly
it is—that it is necessary these gentlemen and myself must
consent to forego measures that concern our safety, as
well as that of the state. You will see also if they will
permit your gallant Norman to boast in all the taverns
in Paris of the fine things he has just told me to my face
—in the face of the Queen of France."
This ungracious reply did not however restrain the
generous ardour of the maiden.
" May Heaven save the state, and grant your majesty
a long and happy life, but humbly do I supplicate per-
mission to prove to you that it is not necessary to drag
this unhappy gentleman to a state prison to be satisfied
of his discretion. He is a man of honour, and his word
may be trusted ; I know him to be noble, discreet, and

generous. I will be a willing hostage for his truth and
fidelity."
seeing that the courtiers who stood around appeared
surprised at her warmth and earnestness, " Sirs," she
continued, burstity, into tears, "lit w„s who first drag-
ged him to the edge of this precipice. •I it was who in-
duced him to leave his peaceful country home, where
happy and calm, life passed away without a knowledge of
courtly intri,!ues—and oh ! of crimes—and if I love him
—I love him with all my heart—hut I, too, have been
deceived—betrayed—entrapped." Sabo stayed her fur-
ther utterance. The Queen replied coldly, and with that
apparent callousness she sometimes could assume.
Truly, gentlemen, I am sorry to find that we who
are assembled here on the subject of an enterprise that
affects a kingdom's welfare, should now only find our
time occupied by an affair of the heart of one of my
maids of honour, and her Normandy beau! believe me,
nevertheless, this exhibition of man's scruples and wo-
man's love is not more diverting to me than it must prove
to you."

Several voices now were raised to tender advice, but
the Baron de Croissi —his face livid—his eyes glistening
with anger, approached the Queen, and said in a tone of
ill-disguised passion,—
" I beseech your majesty to believe that I have been
deceived by the pretended simplicity of this young man.
He has unworthily abused my trust, and has departed
from all his most solemn promises. But let not your
majesty despair of the project which your most faithful
servants have conceived. I will not fail to find before
this time to-morrow a gentleman who will accomplish it
without conditions, or any difficulties being cast in the
way. For the present, I shall not seek to avert the just
vengeance that your majesty will not fail to visit on him
who has betrayed us."
" I—l take revenge upon this unhappy youth," said
the Queen, with disdam ; " Sir, my vengeance does not
descend so low. Let these gentlemen decide his lot :to
them do I abandon him."
" Madame," exclaimed D'Hocquincourt, with ear-
nestness, " I knew not this young man until yesterday :
to-day I have seen him for the second time. I avow to
your grace that he has acted and spoken in a manner
which, in a person of importance, would amount to high
treason ; hut this headstrong youth is guilty only of folly
and ignorance. If then your majesty will take into con-
sideration any loyal and good services I may have ren-
dered my country, I implore your majesty not to permit
him to be too heavily punished for his boldr)ess. lam his
debtor, and his language appears to me to be inspired by a
feeling of generosity that, though I cannot but admire it,
I still must in this case look upon it as absurd and unbe-
coming. in one word, madame, I think it will be quite
sufficient to exact from him a promise to reveal nothing
that he knows in this affair; and if it should be considered
necessary to place any one to watch over him, to secure
his silence, I will not hesitate to pledge myself to under-
take the charge, and hold myself responsible for his ap-
pearance before your majesty and these noble gentlemen
present."

" Thanks, thanks, gallant D'Hocquincourt, mur-
mured Elizabeth. The younger De Croissi acknowledged
by a sign his thanks, to his defender. The courtiers
gathered in a group, and discussed, in low tones, the pro-
priety of adopting this course to guard against any in-
discretion on the part of Fabien. Some hinted that the
walls of a state prison were more likely to secure them
from an unguarded word than the interior of the Hotel
D'Hocquincourt. Nevertheless, as few of them wished
to embroil themselves with the Mar4chal, who seemed
intent upon his propositirn being carried out, and as the
Queen who had turned away her head with an affectation
of indifference, appeared also to lean towards the side of
clemency, they were about to decide that Fabien should
be placed in charge of D'Hocquincourt, when the Baron
de Croissi interrupted—
" One moment, gentlemen,—but one moment," said
he, with firmness, "by the royal clemency—a most un-
deserved favour—my brother has not been requited as
his most audacious speech and conduct so well merit,
but I will not forego to any man the right I have of dis-
posing of him, and I claim him, being his eldest rela-
tion and his natural protector.
" All those ties that once bound me to you are now
broken and for ever annihilated," cried Fabien, with an
indignant air. " Every kindness you have done is effaced
from this moment—you are no longer my brother—l
know you not."
"So now a family scene—for our edification—nothing
like a change, gentlemen," said the Queen, with bitter
irony."
" Gentlemen," said Elizabeth, stepping forward and
addressing herself to the courtiers, " do not deliver this
young man into the hands of his brother, do not abandon
him to a pittiless tyranny ; he has already shown that
he wished to sacrifice him to Ifs ambition ; who knows
what fate he may have in store for him for the future ?"
" Gracious lady," she continued, turning towards the
Queen, " remember that young De Croissi yesterday de-
voted himself bravely in your Majesty's cause. Pardon
him, and my life upon it, you will' not have in all the
kingdom a more faithful adherent."
The Queen, in spite of the insensibility which she so
delighted to assume in public, still possessed a good
heart ; her anger, when roused, was blind, violent, and
irresistible, hut it was never very lasting, and after the
first burst always to be softened. The tears, the suppli-
ant tone of Elizabeth de Montglat—no slight favourite
at all times—won upon her sensibility ; perhaps that very
artless affection which Elizabeth exhibited towards Fa-
bien, and which she pretended to despise, recalled certain
fond recollections of her own girlhood. Whatever
might havO been the cause of this softening towards the
culprit, she was about to pardon him when the pittiless
Albert, in an instant, changed his intentions.
" Madame," said he, pointing to the maiden with an
air of contempt, " does your Majesty know well who it
is that solicits such a favour as is just preferred, and who
brands me with the names of infamy and of being a
traitor ? Does your grace know all the mischief that
this weak and trembling girl hath done, holding, as she
does, a confidential situation near your Majesty?"
" What have you to say of the Countess de Montglat,"
inquired the Regent, with astonishment and some show
of displeasure.
" Monsieur De Croissi !" cried Mdlle. de Montglat,
dismayed, trembling, and turning pale with terror.
" You have not kept your promise, therefore I will not
keep mine," continued Albert ; "in place of inducing my
brother to do his duty, you have pictured to him in odious
colours a deed that would save the state. I will now let
the Queen become acquainted with a secret which chance
alone enabled me to discover, and which has placed you
in my power. Know, then, Madame, that Madlle. de
Montglat, the most favoured of all, and whom you have
loaded with favours, day by day betrays your confi-
dence, and—
" Peace be with you," exclaimed a deep toned and
sonorous voice, which appeared to issue from the very
midst of the assembly.

(To be continued.)

HINTS FOR HUNDREDS.—No. L
(For the Liverpool Standard.)

" Esti auton kinanto ? "—DIMOSTHISB9+

" ANY THING NEW?"

A straw floating on the surface of the water, or a feather
wafted in the air, things but trifling and insignificant in
themselves, are yet sufficient to indicate the current of
the mightiest river, or the direction of one of the most
powerful and subtle elements of nature. This assertion
you may admit to be true, but certainly not " any thing
new." Yet the application which I wish to make of a
circumstance, trivial in itself as either of the above illus—
trations, and, from its every-day occurrence, unnoticed
and not hitherto applied to the purpose I intend, will be
deemed, I humbly opine, in your estimation, to be—
" something new." But first let me premise, that as a
stranger and visitor for a short time in your large and
flourishing commercial city, the modern Venice or Tyre
of ancient times, it has forcibly occurred to me, as a
startling and puzzling paradox, (as I know it has- also
done to others visiting you under similar circumstances,)
that such a strange discrepancy should exist between the
symmetrical proportions and uniformity of style,. propri-
ety and adaptation for the purposes intended, as are to be
found in your public docks, causing them to be deservedly
an object of great attraction and admiration, and the ab-
sence of all uniformity, and the studied irregularity and
confusion of all styles of architecture hitherto.known and
acknowledged as standards of art, and, until exhibited in
your town, never deemed to have an existence in any
imagination however glowing or fanciful, in any of the
vagaries (and these have been numerous enough) which
have been exhibited to the world by amateur or profes-
sional architects. In every modern square and street of
your town, this is conspicuously visible*. But more: it is
not that this discrepancy exists in the style of the build-
ings alone, but in the materials also of which they are
composed. Look at a row of goodly houses : at its com-
mencement you will find two or three to be built of stone,
then as many more to be lath and plastered buildings,
i
some having their fronts painted to mitate the stone, but
those whose houses are immediately adjoining their stony
neighbours will take care that there shall not be any pos-
sibility of mistaking their cement for the more durable
material, and will have it painted a dead white colour;
the next will have a shining quarantine-like front, glowing
with yellow ochre ;
another " will choose to be considered
as, " when least adorned, to be ".adorned the rnost,r,
and will exhibit the cement in all its native purity, or
impurity rather showing cameleon-like green, yellow and
black, accordingly as the atnaosphere,. smoke, and dirt
have in turns done their respective duties; and then, as
if to set at defiance and utterly to defeat
any ideas that
may have been entertained that uniformity may have been
aimed at, a few bright red brick houses will succeed, some
garnished and decorated with stone cornices and mullions,
some merely with brick laughing
to scorn the attempts
of passers-by to account fo; this strange medley ; then
for fear lest, after all, this incongruity might, by a great
stretch of the imagination, be mistaken for regularity and
uniformity, and to remove the monotony of the prospect,
which might otherwise be occasioned, you will find either
in the centre of the row, or intervening somewhere before
it terminates, a large unsightly hiatus, left unoccupied,
with a board nailed on a post, indicating that this forlorn
and rejected piece of ground is " to be sold " or " to be
let "—but not to be " let alone" (that is the board), for
this serves as the rallying point and target for the dirty,
ragged lads in the ]neighbourhood to concentrate their
force, and there. with yellings and hootings, to exercise

their skill as tharksthen. iti shythg '' (as they trim tt)
stones and missiles of all kinds, from broken bricks and
dead dogs to glass bottles and defunct cats, at this primi-
tive bull's eye, much to the risk of damaging also the
eyes of others, not ambitious to be so marked and distin-
guished by their notice ; this " desirable piece of ground"
generally having also a pool of liquid, originally perhaps
water, but so coloured and diverted by its ingredients,
that it may be stale porter, with a goodly assortment of
vegetable and animal matter boiled together, and, when
reeking with a hot sun, cannot fail to be an agreeable
addition to the odours, which are generally to be found,
from the crowded courts and small houses which it ap-
pears always desirable to have attached to the back of
your " better kind " of houses ; it is went also, as a
receptacle for all the rubbish, the oyster-shells, and bro-
ken crockery of the neighbourhood, besides the filth and
nuisances of occasional passers-by. Then to notice the
variety of porticoes !—the interminable variety of all kinds
of oak, ash, mahogany, and bird-eyed maple doors !—the
various shades of green, black, and grey, with which the
balconies and iron rails for the area are painted, with their
sundry decorative styles of iron casting,—would be a task
too arduous for me to undertake, and would require a
skill and knowledge of the sciences and fine arts beyond
what I can boast of possessing, and I must therefore give
up the attempt severally to enumerate them.
For all this confusion of order and regularity, I have
often attempted to account, often strove to find some
reason, why, among such an enlightened community as
your Liverpool people profess to be, and undoubtedly
are, having taken the lead, as you have done of late years,
in applying all the great scientific discoveries to the prac-
tical uses of life—particularly that mighty power of steam,
by which you have, as it were, annihilated time and space,
and removed the various obstacles that previously existed
to the rapid and easy communication between the different
towns in your own country, bringing Manchester, Bir-
mingham, and London, within breakfast, luncheon, and
dinner distances, and the United States as a" trip"
merely across the water, and the East Indies as a pleasant
" summer jaunt" ;—with all this manifest demonstration
of intelligence, activity, and scientfic skill, I say I have
often strove to find some reason, some cause, why such a
miserable want of taste, such a misapplication of know-
ledge, should be found, in the improvement and adorn-
ment of the dwelling-houses of your town, the health and
comfort of its inhabitants ; and it always appeared to me
a most puzzling enigma. But I think I have read this
riddle aright, by a little" straw," a " feather," constantly
to be seen wafted in the air, or floating on the surface, of
any portion of society, the " good society," that you may
move in, and which indicate the " ruling passion" which
influences the thoughts, and directs the actions, of this
portion of your community. And this I will proceed to
demonstrate.
A by-stander is often able to see more of a conflict,
whether it consists of a battle with lads of fisty-cuffs, or
a combat of boys of older growth, accompanied by all the
" pomps and circumstances " of glorious war. This is
true, for many reasons, which I need not detail ; take this
as sufficient, and be quiet, for " I know it "; and as a
bystander among you, I have had the means and oppor-
tunities of detecting and suffering also from the distin-
guishing characteristic of your townspeople.
On my arrival from India, after an absence of many
years, I took up my abode in my relatives' house, no
matter where situated, sufficient that it was in one of the
" best" streets and neighbourhood of the town, and was
welcomed with a warmth and cordiality which they only
can appreciate who for years have been absent from an
English home, with all its comforts and enjoyments,_ not
to be found in any other quarter of the globe. Uncle
was here the " lion," or rather the great Bengal tiger of
the day : every thing was ordered and regulated for
" uncle's" convenience—his feeding times, his sleeping,
his walking, his riding hours, were all studiously arranged
for his convenience and "comfort ' (a truly English-home
word)—his every wish anticipated, not only by an affec-
tionate brother and his amiable and exemplary lady, but
by a tribe also of young namesakes, whom my bachelor
habits, of many years' standing, had led me at first to
regard with looks of dread, mixed up perhaps with a touch
of the " fierce," in order to put them ou their guard, and
to keep them at a respectful and respectable distance.
But this restraint soon broke down, for the strength of
childish affection few can long withstand ; and many days
had not elapsed before I found many of my bachelot's
prejudices had made themselves wings and flown away.
My Indian establishment was revived : one urchin took
charge of my hookah ; another of my hat and gloves ; a
lovely, graceful maiden of my cloak and stick ; a curly_
headed, laughing Hebe roused me in the morning (a
ticklish undertaking) ; whilst another monopolised the
privilege of supplying my tea and coffee with the precise
quantity of cream and sugar, which she alone knew to
administer; whilst all their little hands vied to be em-
ployed in uncle's service, and seemed amply repaid with
an approving smile, and rendered exuberantly happy with
a yarn of a jungle hunt, a tiger fight, a sketch of uncle's
palanquin, or his elephant and hookah. 1 wish I durst
intrude further on your patience, by sketching more at
large this " happy home," and pay a tribute of deserving
respect, admiration, and gratitude to her, the presiding
and tutelar genius of all this domestic bliss. I never
knew until now the value and capability of female power ;
of course I had seen and felt much of its influence during
my rambling life, but little of its domestic worth; nor
could I have deemed it possible that the matron I now
saw was, ten years ago, the giddy, laughing, lining, ball-
frequenting, ever-dancing, never-tiring girl I then knew
so well; but now comely, and better looking, in my esti-
mation, than even then—cheerful, active, kind, and inde-
fatigable. and as untiring in her exertions as before, but
with different aims and in pursuit of better objects. The
comfort and happiness of my brother (spoiled, I must
admit, by her indulgence), and the religious and moral
training and discipline of her children, seemed now to
form her only delight, her most pleasing occupation ; and
well did she appear to be repaid, in the dutiful and obe-
dient and affectionate demeanour or her young 0015731. who
seemed to regard her every look, and whose punishment,
when required, was felt severely in her frown, or word, of
rebuke ; no other punishment was ever needed, none
other ever permitted ;—their greatest reward her smile
and kiss of approval. Her benevolence and kindness to
all was only bounded and constrained by her pecuniary
means, and so strongly was this characteristic exhibited
in her. countenance, that she could never walk abroad
without attracting (much to her astonishment) all the
poor and needy who crossed her path, as I have often
witnessed when accompanying her in her walks. Truly
she has had, and I trust will continue to have, her reward;
which so much worth and benevolence has justly entitled
her to receive.
But bow am Ito apologise for this long digression? I
know not what to sayr but must throw myself unreser-
vedly upon the kind indulgence and sympathy of your
readers, who, I doubt not,. can readily enter into the feel-
ings of gratitude and affection, which have thus taken
possession, vi et artnis, of my pen, and, though at their
coat, have afforded an opportunity of giving vent to that
which, when " cabin'd and confined" within my own
bosom., seemed difficult and almost impossible to be si-
lenced and restrained. I promise, however, to go on,
and sin no more.

I remember well my first appearance in town, and the
first indication I then received of your Liverpool " ruling.
passion." Accompanying my brother to his office, on
our drawing near to the Exchange, we soon began to fall
in with his acquaintances,.and the ceremony of my intro-
duction to his numerous friends commenced and conti-
nued after the following manner, which take as a sample
of the rest :—" Ha! Molasses,. how are you ? " and mo-
tioning with his band towards me, " My brother, from
India." " Oh, indeed ! Any thing new, sir, in India ?"
Now this. was a choker, and somewhat indefinite ;. and
whilst I was ruminating what might be considered" new"
to him—whether in Scinde, the Punjaub, Upper or Lower
India—l could only smile and bow, by way of gaining •
time ; but I. need not have troubled myself, for before 1
could have written.these few words, Molasses' attention,
was withdrawn from myself, and, smiling at my brother,.
demanded, " What's new with you, Cotton, this morn-
ing ? " To which my brother replied, " Have you any
thing new " " I'm off to the docks," was the answer ;.
and then, giving each other a poke with the thumb about
the region of. the second button-hole, they laughed,
winked at each other, and started off at different tangents..
" A funny fellow that Molasses is, isn't he ?" I. replied
that I had had no opportunity of judging whether he was
so or not. " Bless met, didn't I introduce you to him ?"
" Oh, yes. you certainly did ; but " " Well, then,
isn't he—Morgan, wAat have you new ? My brother,
from " What is there new in your part of the
world, sir ? " Again puzzled, and again beginning to
cogitate for an answer, I was again relieved by an.addi-
don to the two of some other friends ; and, again intro-
duced, and the same inquiry again made. I could only
listen to.the manner in which the salutations were given
and the answers returned, and found, them to consist--
question and answer varying a little in the arrangement
of their, words and emphasis, but all ringing the same
tune—of " Any thing new ?" " What have you, new ?"
" Have you any news ?" And thus was I handed round,
and, bandied with the same nexer-varying inquiries. And
often. have I since recalled to mind my first appearance
on " 'Change " ; but it was-not until I bad made several
visits there, that I began to notice this. universal style of
address; and then I began to reflect, that, for my own
credit, and in consideration of my brother's also, it be-
hoved me to be prepared with some of the " news " 9f
the day, Taking my way to the newsroom, therefoie, in
good time in the morning, by the most unfrequented
streets, fearful lest I should be falling in with some of
my friends before I was prepared, I soon dived into the
contents of a goodly broadsheet, and, from amidst its va-
ried stores, began to lay in a " supply" likely to be com-
mensurate for the " demand." But here another diffi-
culty met me, which I had not reckoned upon. I Was at
a loss to know what might be regarded as " news." by
one, and " stale, flat, and unprofitable " by anothes; and
this I soon found to my great annoyance :—e. g. " Well,
captain, any news }this morning ? " " Yes !' Brimful
with my morning cramming, now I thoughta good op.
portunity for a fling off. " Yes!" I replied low ly,
boldly, setting my legs apart, and thrusting a hand into
each of my breeches.pockets, as I remarked was the
standard fashion of the nobs of the flags. " Yes," I re-
plied ; " I see the funds"— " Funds ? ! "
drawing his mouth into a small funnel-shaped projection,
and turning a pivot on bis right heel, and describing, at a
considerable elevation, a circle with the left. " Funds!
My dear fellow, let those bother their heads about the,
who have got any thing to DO with the funds--I
So you've nothing
n the politics ! Who'd trouble new ? " When I tried the politic! of
him-
self about them 1" When the " fashion and table talk,"
" Oh, all humbug!" But still something, any thing
"new " was required. Never was a poor fellow soyes-
tered and bothered. Mosquitoes under your curtain at
night, hot water when cold was wanted, a tight uniform
and heavy helmet under a hot grilling sun, are nuisances
sufficient singly of themselves to disturb the equilibrium
of any man's temper; but these may be endured, becausa
you can obtaining,lndulghope of at some Om', relief
from your sufferings, a riddance from your an op nc
But here I was bound and whipped with ne,tho, i our T,

daily; and often have I been inclined to burst mit with a
hearty anathema at the inquiry for " n-e-w-s," arid, by
way of doing something " new," to " pick " a quarrel,
in a proper way, with the anxious inquirer. But then, as
I saw no offence was intended, and by following the latter
expedient I might be making the bad worse, I deemed it
prudent, like the man in the play, rather " to b ;or the ills
we have, than fly to others that we know not of " ; and
could only therefore answer, to such brusque replies, I
know not what, accompanying my words with a grin, a
laugh, or an hideous attempt for something to be mistaken
for this kind of exercise of the muscular organs. Having
come to the conclusion that discretion was to be preferred
to valour, I deemed it the wisest and most prudent course
to avoid the nuisance I could not otherwise overcome ;
and such an impression had the " fretting " I had under-
gone made upon my nerves, that for weeks I ventured
not into the town. I dreaded to meet any of my brother's
friends; I shrunk from any thing new; and had nearly
committed an assault upon my tailor, from his inquiry if
I could give him " any thing new"—as a hint in his line !

(To be concluded in our next.)

SECOND EDITION.

Standard-office, Half-past Eleven o'clock.

THE STATE TRIALS•

THIRTEENTH DAY, Monday, Jan. 29th.

At the opening of the Court this day, after their Lord-
ships had taken their seats, Mr. John O'Connell, one of
the traversers, rose and addressed the Court and Jury.
Something, he said, had dropped from Mr. Shiel, in his
speech on Saturday, which might convey the impression
that he was disposed to accept an occasional or an annual
visit of the Imperial Parliament to Dublin, as a
satisfactory concession to the present agitation for repeal.
He was not of such opinion. Whatever might be the
consequences of the avowal, he would not allow it for a
moment to be supposed that he gave up the inalienable
right of his country to a free legislature. (Considerable
sensation was excited by the above declaration.)
Mr. Mom's, Q.C. then proceeded to address the court
on behalf of the Rev. Thomas Tierney, and remarked at
great length upon the alleged unanimous resolve of the
Irish people in favour of repeal and the harshness with
which the defendants had been pursued by the Attorney-
General.

Mr. Hatchell then rose and said, that be appeared as
counsel for Mr. Ray. He admitted that Mr. Ray was a
repealer, and the paid secretary of the association, but the
jury were not to try him as such, but whet her or not he had
in conjunction with the other trav-rsers entered into a
preconcerted plot to excite discontent against the govern-
ment and constitution. The learned counsel proceeded to
argue at some length against this allegation, and closed
his address at two o'clock, when Mr. O'Connell, who
had been present in the course of the morning at the Con-
ciliation Hall, had the Court adjourned until this
(Tuesday) morning, assigning as a reason the illness of
Mr. Fitzgibbon, of counsel for Mr. Tierney, and the hon-
and learned traverser forthwith transported himself to the
scene of agitation.