The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1833-05-07 00:00:00

THE LIVEItPOOL STANDAht).

MANNERS IN THE " REFORMED" HOUSE.—On Wednesday
night last, whilst Mr. Attwood was addressing the House of
Commons, a discordant yell was raised by an honourable mem-
ber in the side gallery. The cry was of that description which
is freguently heard in a crowded theatre when the gods are
impatient for the production of the pantomime. Loud cries of
Order, order! and the somewhat novel cry (in "the first assem-
bly of gentlemen in the country") of " Turn him out"' marked
the feelings of the house with regard to the unseemly in-
terruption.

Or DIT.—An amateur of celebrity is engaged in setting the
accompaniments of certain speeches in an honourable House
to music, as a coughing chorus.

Painting, sculpture, and engraving, are three different lan-
guages of art, and though the last-mentioned mode of conveying
the original text of nature, is generally considered in the light
of a translation from the other two, we hold an engraver to pos-
sess a mind capable of perceiving the finest touches of truth,
and of rendering in his own way the textures of flesh, hair, dra-
peries, &c., the poetry of the sky, woods, and water; for if he
have no eyes for anything beyond the picture he copies, he is a
mere mechanic and-no artist. The productions of the
.greatest
engravers prove that engraving is an original art, requiring the
same eye for nature in its professors with which a painter ought
to be endowed. The works of the inferior class of engravers
prove the same thing, by shewing that their failure is not owing
to a deficiency of manual power, but to a perversion or ignorance
of nature.—Monthly Magazine.
- - -

A Reverend Gentleman, who resides near the mouth of the
Highlands, was, three or four years ago retracing his way home,
after being on a visit to the fair city, and falling in with two or
three of his pot companions a little below Dunkeld, who hap-
pened to be south like himself, they put their wise heads toge-
ther, and agreed to have a drop of mountain dew. And though
the journey they had to accomplish was very considerable, and
the sun was already far advanced in his course, still, when they
had tasted the strong and mellifluous and fuming toddy, they
forgot the distance they had to travel, and even the minister
himself declared " that they could walk in darkness as well as
in light!" But he had soon reason to retract his inconsiderate.
affirmation ! Before they set off he was so overpowered with
the spirit that he could neither mount nor sit upon his horse;
and his faithful companions, who still possessed, in some degree,
the power of their limbs and faculties, being unwilling to leave
him behind, were under the necessity of tying him with ropes to
the saddle ? In that woful plight the trio proceeded on their
journey. His reverence, owing to the darkness of the night,
however, and the oblivious mood which his fellow-riders soon
fell into, was, cre long, left behind; and the horse, who was now
his own master, instead of following them, went up a wrong
Strath. As he came near to a churchyard by the wayside, he
observed a light which some individuals had who were there
watching; and as he was now, poor brute, a little fatigued, and
naturally anxious to find some resting-place for the night, he
very sagaciously made the best of his way into it, thinking, pro-
bably, that some human beings would be near who would com-
miserate his case and relieve him of his burden. He was by no
means mistaken. The watchmen, hearing him approaching,
thought it was no doubt resurrectionists, and having primed
and loaded their pieces, they fired in all directions. The horse
fortunately escaped unhurt, and unable to communicate his
hopes and fears in words, he neighed most pitifully behind the
wall. Upon this the men leaped over in a body in the direc-
tion of the sound, and finding a horse, and something iu the
shape of a man " on the outside of him," they concluded that
he was of the inhuman tribe they first conjectured, and since
he remained behind, that some one of them must have wounded,
perhaps killed him. They were astonished if he was hit that he
adhered so well to the saddle. They came nearer, and imagined,
from his loud snoring, that he was in the agonies of death. Tak-
ing his horse by the bridle, therefore, they led him to the near-
est house, and when they tried to dismount the speechless rider,
they found, to their great amazement, that it surpassed their
power. They examined, however, and discovered the ropes—
untied them, brought him in, and what was their astonishment!
Could they believe their own eyes, when they saw in clear can-
dle light the Rev. Mr. Nameless! ! !—Perth Fourier.

ENIGMA.

BY THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING.
There is a word of plural number
Foe to peace and tranquil slumber.
Now, any word you choose to take,
By adding s, you plural make ;
But if you add an s to this
Strange is the metamorphosis—
Plural is plural then no more,
And sweet what bitter was before ?
SOLUTION.
Though bitter cares soft slumber seldom meet,
Still by some loved caress, they're rendered sweet.

THE MAGAZINES.

A new monthly has just made its appearance in London,
along with Jack-in-the-Green, the almond and pear tree
blossoms, and all the other blossoms of May. It is en-
titled Arnold's Magazine of the Fine Arts ; and this the
first number is embellished with a portrait of Canova and
an engraving of Canova's celebrated statue of Washing-
ton. We have not time to do justice to the work, which
appears to be got up in a superior manner. We have
only room for tl.e following short extract, from "Sketches
by a Practising Architect :
To be sure,'tis not pleasant for a man who has traversed
Italy, ascended the Acropolis, and marched in state among the
wonders of Nubia, to sit waiting for half an hour in the cold, ou
the polished oak bottom of an old citizen's hall-chair. The
powdered footman might have asked him to walk into some un-
occupied parlour, with a fire and newspaper to prevent shivers
and tedium. However, he'll catch it, when his master knows
whom he has abandoned to the exclusive contemplation of hat-
pegs and oilcloth. Yet he sent in his name—a name well known
to the proud cit. By the marbles of Pentilieus, but this is won-
drous strange.
He is, at length, summoned into the library, when old Full-
money throws balm on his hurt mind, by hoping he has " not
waited long;" by fearing he must have "found it cold;" and
by, telling him, finally, he is " happy to see him."
Well, sir, your parents speak wonders of you. You have
recently returned from your travels ?—and which do you like
best, England or France?"
" Why, really, sir, I know little of France : the mere en-
trance lodge to the vast domain of continental art. Besides,
sir, it was not my part to cultivate any partiality for soil or cli-
mate, people, or their laws and customs. My sole motive, sir,
was the attainment of professional erudition; and, in Italy"—
" 0, you've been to (stirring the fire) Italy, have ye ?"
" Yes, sir; and thence through Italy and Greece.'
" Greece, too, have ye ?"—(ringing the bell.)
" Yes, sir; and thence to Egypt"—
" John :' more coals.— To where, sir ?"
" Egypt, sir."
" Indeed I Did ye see any crocodiles ?"
" Why, sir, they are frequently to he seen : but, I was so taken
up with inspectinc, the numerous temples,"—
Aye,—in search' of mummies, I suppose. Curious mum-
mies, those, at Bullock's Museum, eh ? What have you
there ?"
"A few of my drawings, sir, made upon the spot, and laid
down to actual measurement. This, sir, exhibits a restored
elevation of the portico of the Parthenon:"—
" Aye—Just like the front of the India House. Very pretty.
What's this?" •

" The Pantheon, sir :"
It looks to me like the Colosseum (as they call it) in the
Regent's Park,—very pretty. What's this?
" The Lantern of Demosthenes."
. " A Lantern, eh ? It's like a spice-box. Where did they
put the candles ? Very pretty. What's this ? a turnpike
lodge ?"
"No, sir: the temple of the winds."
"Indeed! well, it does somewhat resemble a chimney-pot.—
What's that, standino• all alone there in the fields ?"
" The Temple of Theseus."
"'Twould make a pretty cowshed :—Well, sir; I must look
at the remainder another day ; and now to business."
[The feelings of the young architect during the foreging col-
loquy can he fully understood by those few alone who profes-
sionally, or as amateurs, have studied ornamental architecture
in its details. They, who entertain any feeling for the art in a
geveral sense, would, of course, be sufficiently disgusted: but,
to the young professor, who reveres the smallest moulding in
the least important example of antiquity, such a laceration of
forms adored must. prove no less than ghastly !—However, the.
prospect of a job skis the endurance of the offence; and there
is further comfort in considering, that the new country mansion
will address itself, not merely to the eyes of the ignorant
huli-
money, but to the informed" beholding of his visitors and the
passing stranger. What a portico will we have ! What a ves-
tibule and staircase ! How choice and appropriate shall be the
decorations! How massive and firm the com,truction !1

The patron thus developes his purpose to the expectant pro-
fessor
Now, sir, you have, possibly, heard of my having lately
purchased an estate near —. The park is most beautiful;
rich in noble timber, and commanding in situation. Every
thing, in short, is admirable except the house, which is, indeed,
a mere remnant of the old mansion, and has been for some years
back occupied by a farmer. Here is a plan of it, taken by my
carpenter. You see, sir, how extremely inconvenient it is in
almost every respect. The dining-room too small, the other a
passage room. Then, sir, it's very much out of repair. There's
no closet of one particular sort, (you understand me, sir,) and
too many of the other sort. In short, sir, after considering the
matter over and over again, and taking the advice of a friend,
I have come to the determination of -- what d'ye want, John ?
Excuse me, sir, for a moment, while I exchange a few words
with my solicitor."
During the patron's absence, our young professor fills up in
his imagination that, blank in the conclusion of Fullmoney's ad-
dress occasioned by the footman's message. " Yes, sir," thinks
he to himself, " you have come to the determination of pulling
it all down, and of building a new mansion, suited to the beau-
tiful park you have so justly extolled. You have come to the
determination of mistrusting your own judgment on matters of
taste, and of trusting to me for the provision of a good and hand-
some residence, with all the appendages and superior conve-
niences, the character and beauty, that should distinguish the
man of fortune, and preside among a park of oaks. You have
come to the determination or

At this moment re-enters the patron:—
" Well, sir—as I was saying—l have come to the determina-
tion of putting the whole in habitable repair, and of making one
or two little alterations, which will, in effect, prove to be very
great improvements. Now, sir, these are my ideas on the sub-
ject. First, knock down the end of that useless closet, so as to
make away from the dining-room to the kitchen without going
through the drawing room ! Secondly, knock a hole through
the stone wall at the end of the dining-room, and put a thin
partition flush with the outer face, by which we may get a recess
for my sideboard, and thus virtually enlarge clic apartment.
Thirdly, poke a little window into the outer wall of this closet
up stairs, and fit it up as the required convenience, to which I
have before alluded. Fourthly, put the entire house into repair,
and give the old work two coats, and the new work four coats
of common oil paint."
Spirits of Memnon, Ictinus and PhEeax, shades of Vitruvius,
Bnonarotti, and Wycham ! hover around me in merciful pro-
tection; or, rather, give me the benefit of your wings, and bear
me up and away, where even
" the Birds dare not build :
Nor insect's wing flit o'er the herbless granite !"

Are we, then, after a course of mighty preparation for emulat-
ing the gigantic splendours of ancient art ;—are we, then,
(fraught with a swelling ambition, which o'er floods our con-
tinent of modesty,)—are we, most placid Lady Patience, to be
subject to the climax of being smothered in the destruction of a
lath and plaster partition? or employed, partly to amend, but
chiefly to perpetuate the clumsy blunders of an ignorant coun-
try carpenter ?—" Base," indeed.

The Dublin University Magazine for May did not
come to hand so soon as it ought to have come; but bet-
ter late than never. We have only had time to glance at
one article, which is full of interest, entitled " Emigra-
tion of Protestants," from which we give the following
extract, purposing to pay more attention to the number in
our next

We now approach the emigration of the present times, an
emigration on such an extended scale as to give promise for
exceeding any thing of the kind ever yet known in any.nation ;
it commenced shortly after the rebellion, when a spirit of a
peculiarly hostile character began to reveal itself among the
Romanists, so as to induce many Protestants to withdraw from.
the country for a long. period; however the numbers were
comparatively small, until freehold leases which the landlords
had granted to the Protestant tenantry previous to 1793, began
to expire, and then the numbers swelled to an enormous
amount, by reason of the removal of the old Protestant free-
holders at the expiration of their leases. During the- last ten
years the number of Protestant emigrants has regularly in-
creased each succeeding year, shewing a greater number than
that which preceded it. Nor is this extensive drain of the Pro-
testant population, so far as it has yet prevailed, the only or
the greatest evil, for the whole body is in motion—the great
body of the Protestant farmers, and mechanics, and manu-
facturers are in motion. They are all thinking on the subject,
and preparing to emigrate. There is scarcely a family of the
lower order of Protestants which has not some member or near
relative already in America, and all are longing to flee away
from this ill-fated island, looking forward with anxiety to the
time when they can so arrange their little affairs, as to be ena-
bled to emigrate with some prospect of success. In the Pro-
vince of Connaught, the various counties of Leitrim, and
Sligo, and Mayo, have poured forth a great portion of their
population; and the last-named county (Mayo) although it
contains a smaller number of Protestants than almost any
other county in Ireland, has actually lost by emigration
during the last two years no less than 1150 Protestants.—
In the Province of Munster, the counties of Limerick
and Tipperary are already nearly exhausted, and promise
ere long to be completely so ; while Waterfoikl and some
parts of Cork have lost prodigious numbers. In the Pro-
vince of Leinster, the several counties of Wexford, and.
Longford, and Queen's County, have literally sent and are pre-
paring to send, thousands to America. In the Province of Ul-
ster, the great settlement of the Protestants, the number that
haie already emigrated is almost incredible, while the desire to
imitate their example is almost universal among those who re-
main. During the last few years, the number of Protestants
from the North has equalled, and sometimes exceeded those
from all the rest of Ireland together. The four ports of Newry,
Belfast, Derry, and Sligo are those nearest our Protestant po-
pulation ; and. although vast numbers have gone from Dublin,
and very many have sailed' from the ports of New Ross, and
Waterford, and Cork, and even from Limerick, and though
some few have sailed from Galway, Westport, and Ballina, yet
the great body of Protestants have gone from the northern
ports; that once happy and prosperous province, whose popu-
lation was as wealthy and peaceful as it was religious and happy,
is rapidly losing those beautiful features, for which we once
loved and admired it, and the scowling and ferocious aspect of
Popery is fast unveiling itself where the smiling and gentle spi-
rit of Protestantism was once almost universal. That a change
of a fearful and striking nature should be observable in other
districts is only what might be expected. In some parishes,
where there was a few years ago a respectable Protestant popu-
lation, there is not a solitary individual now; so that where
hundreds once were, there is not a trace of them to be found at
present. In other places the number has been so reduced that
we have but a meagre skeleton of what there once was, and even
these are compelled, in their weakness now, to submit to every
insulting indignity which their triumphing competiturs are
pleased to enjoin. In sonic parishes, the present Protestants
are so resolved on emigrating that the building of churches,
has been stopped, as being likely to be utterly useless in another
year, from the intended emigration of the entire Protestant po-
pulation, instances of which are known to ourselves. It is a
melancholy fact, that the whole Protestant population of the
lower orders are in preparation to abandon this country, and to
seek a more happy settlement in other climes; they seem lift-
ing their wings and preparing to " flee into the wilderness" of
the new world, in order to escape the troubles of the old. It is
utterly impossible to ascertain with any precision the total num-
ber of' Protestants who have left us, as the subject of emigration
occupied, for a long time, very little of public attention, but of
late the departure of so many Protestants has drawn the atten-
tion of many to the subject, and means, reasonably effective,
have been resorted to to ascertain the numbers that sail each
year from all the several sea-ports. There are many accurate
details as to the last four years, collected with great pains, and
they give the following result :—ln 1829 the number was 12,000
—in 1830 it was 11,000--in 1831 it increased to '29,6oo—and in
1832, the amount of which has never before been published, it
was 31,500, being a total of 91,500 Protestant souls within the
short space ()flour years! The number of last year would have
been considerably greater, only that the prevalence of the cho;.
lera disarranged the affairs of a large portion of intended emi-
grants, especially when they learned that the emigrants were
necessitated to undergo a quarantine beyond the Atlantic ; these
persons will probably depart this present year, and thus swell
to an enormous extent the tide that has already been flowing
from our coast. During the last two years large bodies of Ro-
man Catholics, sick of the bondage which they suffer from their
priests, and from the factious, and allured by the success which
has attended others, have been induced to emigrate. These
Roman Catholics, however, who-liwere very numerous at the
ports in the south and west of Ireland, are not included in the
statement above given, which embraces the Protestant emi-
grants alone.

So extensive an emigration of that Protestant population, on
whiCh the safety of thepropertv and the allegiance of this island
so much depend, is entitled to the deepest attention; and it well
becomes every man, who is anxious for the public weal, to en-
deavour to ascertain the real causes of so disastrous an evil. In
setting forth those causes which appear to us to be the most ef-
fective ones, we would observe, that we have already seen how