The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-07-07 00:00:00

yards from the shore. A cross marks the place where she
struck. Three heavily.laden merchantmen met the same
fate. and nineteen of

nd travellers have related how, even
is bright and the sea still, the houses
nd churches may be dimly seen through the transparent
waters. Such a tale as this is scarce worth refuting,
seeing that the houses were overturned by the earthquake
before they were overwhelmed by the sea, whose action
must long since haee destroyed their every vestige. But
the old sailors along that coast love to tell how, on certain
days, the people are seen sitting at ;he doors of their
houses, and standing about in the strf
silent %sate'

had disappeared

of the night, a cock has been heard to
urow-- from- out—the - -depths -of mu mt.— von iseNudi's
Travels in Peru.

AN INCIDENT OF THE WARS OF WILLIAM AND
JAMES.—VVhiIe Jeremiah Tisdel thus railed and cursed

crooked. fin-
tinappositelx

. .
have presented to the fancy of the spectator the image of
a famished ghoul cowering over some open grave, and

searching for the fragments of his unclean feast. " Gone,
gone, gone," he cried, in a voice of almost childish rage
and grief, as he sat down upon the cold earth beside the
spot, and smote his clenched hands sometimes upon his
breast and sometimes upon the dull soil, until gradually
this frantic energy of woe subsided into a sullen, black
moroseness, from which, however, after the lapse of some
ten minutes, he on a sudden started up. " Aye, aye," he
exclaimed, with a new and fierce interest, "let's see how
Deveril has fared." With this exclamation, be hurried
toward the ruined walls; the lower windows had all been
secured with iron bars, which had of course survived the
flames, and now showed in sharp black lines against the
grey light of morning which streamed through the build-
ing. Passing the earner of the still reeking ruin, Tisdal
stopped short, with a shuddering ejaculation which had a
strange mixture of joy and horror in its intonation.
" Then it is done I—ha, ha I—the hunter caught in his own
toils, the robber bereft of his spoil, the murderer of his
precious life." The spectacle which elicited these words
was one of sufficient horror. Through the bars of a
window, within a few yards of which the speaker stood,
were thrust the knee and the head of a figure, whose es-
cape had been rendered impracticable by two transverse
bars which, deeply sunk in the side walls, secured the
rest. The Lead, and one arm and shoulder, as well as
one knee, were thrust through the iron stanchions, and
all was black and shrunk, the clothes burned entirely
away, and the body roasted and shrivelled to a horrible
tenuity ; the lips dried up and drawn, so that the white
teeth grinned and glittered in hideous mockery, and thus
the whole form, arrested in the very attitude of frenzied
and desperate exertion, showed more like the hideous,
blackened effigy of some grinning ape, than anything hu-
man. With a horrible and icy fascination, old Tisdal
gazed upon this appalling spectacle, till it almost seemed,
to his distempered fancy, that the fiendish grinning thing
was greeting him " with mop and mow," as the coal-
black, shrunken mask, with its shining white tows of
teeth, set off by the hideous grotesqueness of its attitude,
met, and appeared to return his fixed and thrilling gaze.
" Deveril Deveril ! muttered the puritan, scarce daring
to speak above his breath, as he drew back a little ; for
though he knew it was but fancy, the light curling smoke

between him and that fearful ob.

r recov

p pea ranee of motion

which enhanced the horrible effect

of the spectacle upon his imagination. " Deveril ! De-
veril s—this is horrible ! Who could have thought he'd

have struggled so bard? Why did they not pike him ?
Flow could they let him roast there? It was frightful!"

With a violent effort Tistial turned, and two steps placed
the corner of the building between him and that terrible
object. A strange feeling, sometimes almost bordering
upon a gush of tenderness, came upon him as he conti-
nued—" Devetil Deveril ! poor Deveril ! it was dread-
ful ! it was frightful !—he was my staunch companion in
evil days.. Oh, Dever!!! Deverill—tie saved my life once
—why did I forget Blackheath? Oh, Deveril!was!t.for

shi; you saved it? Oh, my tiod t that 1 coma can nim
back I—or—or at least that he had died elsewhere, and art,
easier death ! He was my comrade—my comrade—when
no one else would consort with me! Is he dead ?—is he
quite—quite dead ? If he had but life enough left to for-
piscine !—oh, that he had hut life enough to forgive me !"
Thus speaking, with a strange hysterical revulsion of feel-
ing, Tisdal distractedly returned to the spot where first
the dreadful apparition bad met his eye. There, fixed as
the bars themselves, stood still the awful, monkey-like
figure, black and grinning as ever. " Deveril! Deveril !
—old boy, Deveril!" cried his former associate, almost
frantically ; but the sounds echoed unhees:ed through the
empty walls, and the thin vapour curled, undisturbed by
breath or movement, like the smoke of his torment for
ever ascending about and above the sooty, grinning effigy.
" Deveril! Deveril! is there any life in yon? Old fellow,
it's I—it's Tisdal—burnt brandy ! Oh, God ! Deveril !
Deveril ! won't you answer Captain Gordon ? It's I—l
—it's brother Snap ! Oh, Deveril, my boy, you saved
me—you saved me—l know it—l remember that night.
Speak, old boy, one word. I think you moved I—you
did move !" Tisdal distractedly snatched up a long
charred joist, which lay among the smouldering rubbish,
and, stretching across the smoking embers and ashes, he,
with the end of it, pushed the ghastly figure. The effect
was horrible; for though the pressure was but light, the
grinning head separated from the body, and rolled, amid
a cloud of dust, towards Tisdal's feet, while the body
dropped back into the ashes and rubbish within the walls,
leaving but the blackened arm still clinging and sticking
to the bars. If the frightful apparition had spontaneously
sprung from its position, and leaping at the throat of its
betrayer, Tisdal could hardly have felt a pang of terror
wider than the paroxysm which froze him, as he saw the
head of his victim thus rolling and plunging through the.
ashes, towards his feet. At length, relieved b. y some-
thinx between a sigh and a shudder, and trembling so vi-
olently that his legs could scarcely bear him, ne managed
to withdraw as far as the low fence which enclosed the
little paddock, within which bad stood the mansion of
Drumgunniol, now but a scorched and smoking ruin, and
seating himself upon the low grassy bank, be strove to re-
collect his scattered wits, and to quiet his terrible agtta-
tion.—Portsmes of Turlogh O'Brien.

before he was eighteen years of age, an enthusiast in high
art, whose first word was Raphael, and his second Michael
Angelo. Thus irrecoverably a painter, he left for London
on the 14th of May, 1804, and entered his name as a stu-
dent of the Royal Academy. His skill and attention were
soon noticed. Prince iloare introduced him to Fuseli, an
introduction which had sqmething to do, perhaps, with
the after errors and eccentricities of his character and
style. Fuseli was fearless and outsroken, and Haydon
became the same. Fuseli, in painting, was violent in
action and exaggerated in expression, and Haydon was, at
ct, gave to it an once, his admiring imitatcr. Thus injuriously misled

hip of his early

Michael Angelo and