The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1848-03-14 00:00:00

head
His eye

This is the 'Kin'g of Denmark, Harald Hildetand.
sparkles—his head is proudly raised—for the

mighty. got-is have sworn to him that, aftCr many centuries,
one of his descendants shall stretch out his sceptre from
the North Cape to the southernmost point of Europe—
far towards east and west—and his name shall he re-
corded in the book of nations. See the next scene!

Centuries have rolled by, and it is our own age ; a poor
boy, with a little red cap on his golden hair carries an
earthen pitcher, slung by a cord, through one of the
narrow streets of Copenhagen—he is bringing dinner to
bis father, who works in the dock-yard, carving rude
figure-heads for the ships. But observe this child ! he is
the youngest of King Harald Hildetand's race, and in him
the promise shall be fulfilled. But how ? The third scene
will show. The boy has become a man—the yellow hair
white—but it hangs upon his powerful shoulders in rich
profusion ; around stand noble marble forms—Jason with
the golden fleece, the Graces, the Holy Apostles ; it is the
King of Artists whom we see—the scion of Harald Hil-
detand—the poor boy, who now as a man stretches his
sceptre in the realm of Art, over the countries of Europe
—it is BErtel Thorwaldsen. It is not the imagination of
a poet—it is reality—which has furnished the subject for
each picture.—Translation from the Danish of H. C.

Ande;sen, in Dublin Unive;:sity Magazine.
" GOOD" CHILDREN.—In contradistinction to the sub-
j ect of naughtiness, there is a word we have alluded to
before, which we must inquire a little into,—one oftener
taken in vain than any other in infant education, and
which, in our infant recollection, was the enigma of the
little vocabulary. We mean that magic word good. In
children of sense and principle, the vagueness of this term
is most distressing ; implying, as it does, first one thing
and then another, and nothing long. Sometimes a strong
exertion of the will; sometimes a total abeyance of every
faculty ; now a dryness in the atmosphere, which keeps
their hair in curl ; and now a letter by post, or a hamper
from the country, which puts their mother in a good hu-
mour. With us this word is associated with very mixed
feelings. Certainly it was a pleasure, as all rare surprises
were ; but still it always brought nervous misgivings,
and fearful lookings forward to a long future, in which
more would be expected from us, and less on our part
likely to be fulfilled ; for how were we ever to be sure of
being good again, when we never knew how we had con-
trived to be so in the present instance ? From our own
recollections, however, and much subsequent observation,
we should say that he real maternal beau idiot of the
term consists in a keen power of discrimination between
the value of a stuff gown and a silk one, accompanied by
a general constitutional slowness of circulation. And a
reference to foreign languages confirms this view. The
French synonym is sage, wise ; the German, artig, polite ;
neither of them in the least childlike, but both corre-
sponding with the quality implied. Every wise child must
know the difference between stuff and silk, and no polite
child would ever think of trampling it under foot. That's
why stories of good children, who are always prudent,
prim, and precise, are so distasteful to children of any
promise at all. They feel the misnomer, and their natu-
ral instinct rises against it. Parents give themselves
much trouble and their children much, torment in trying-to
enforce this many-headed term ; but 'they may rely upon
it, iR nine cases out of ten, a -gooxl,,opaas honourable,
naughtiness is a far better thing. Where there is really a
pood child, let us watch and pray, for it is a fearful gift to
a • parent's heart. We have known one--meek, loving,
patient—the unconscious pattern of every Christian vir-
tue, with a conscience too tender for us weak ones not to
offend. Oh ! what would we have given for more of those
qualities which others take so much pains to repress ?
She was good, if you will—goodness personified—too
good, alas ! to live.—Fraser's Magazine.
SAMSON'S DEATH.—The time at last came when the
daughters of the Philistines did rejoice, and the daughters
of the uncircumcised triumphed. Both with his first and
second wife Samson showed himself peculiarly alive to
the force of female importunities ; and apt to give way
before the exhibition of female distress. In the former
attempt to extort a secret from him, it is, said that his wife
lay sore upon him—in the present attempt, that his soul
was vexed unto death. It looks a marvellous infatuation
—the effect of melancholy weakness—that he should have
been thus got the better of in the face of former palpable
designs to give him up unto the Philistines—evincing the
blindness of passion, and holding forth a most impressive
lesion to beware of it. The secret came out at last.
God had charged his mother before that he was born that
no razor should come upon his head—making this the
condition, whether of the strength which he had naturally
or of the extraordinary visitations and gifts which he
received of supernatural strength when the Spirit of God
came upon him. He gave up his conscience and his vow
to a perfidious woman, who on his locks being shorn off
began to afflict him—a process which I cannot distinctly
understand. At all events, his strength did depart from
him ; and he, when he awoke out of his sleep was un-

conscious thereof ; but the Philistines, in obedience to the
call of his treacherous and cruel wife, were upon him,
and the Philistines prevailed. And merciless was the
advantage they took of their success—putting out his eyes
and binding him with fetters, and forcing him to grind in
a prison-house.—l know not if there be any natural con-
nexion between the growth of the hair and the recovery
of strength. Samson may have repented of his infidelity,
and the temporal chastisement of his loss of strength been
--ithdrawn And this strength was made the instrument
. great and signal manifestation—a triumph
Jver idolatry—a vindication of the supremacy of the one

at the last of a

only and true God—and, finally, a most picturesque and
characteristic termination to the career of a great hero.
One recoils from the barbarity of the Philistines in bring-
ng in blind old Samson to make sport of him ; and pro-
ortionally to this, one feels a certain wild and natural
atisfacton in the avenging ruin which he brought upon
s, even though himself involved in the common
t fell upon all—both men and women—
,. ing the savage spectacle. Thus fell one of
noted of the historical personages whom Scrip-

)n tha

-has transmitted Downward to futu.ro

es.
Dr. Chalmers' Daily Scripture Readings.
SOLDIERS AND MA N UFA CTURERS.—Mr. Cobden is
eased to be especially bitter upon the " horrid trade"
He characterises it as barbarous and

and would be rid of it at all risks. Now, set-
ang aside the idiocy of his remarks, there is a monstrous
of ingratitude in this language of the free-trade epos-
Had it not been for our arms, where would our mar-
' If we had succumbed to France instead
if humbling her at Waterloo—and we presume that Mr.
Cobden would have preferred the former alternative, since
he thinks that the Duke should now be preaching forgive-
ness for the past—where would have been our trade, and
',ere our exportations of calico ? Hindostan is an ac-
country, and British arms have opened up the mar-
• and arc these commercial evils ? Really
to attempt enforcing a point
owes everything to the e'er-

kets have been

9 of China

it is throwing

way langua
Commen

as this

Lions and protection of that military power which these
purblind theorists complain of; and were our armaments
abolished to-morrow, we should look round us in vain for
a customer. And pray what does the arrogant upstart
eiean by characterising the honourable profession of a
Soldier as a damnable trade ? Does he intend to disgorge
"4 contempt and contumely upon the graves of those who
e field of battle fighting nobly for their king and
Are we now to be told that the names which
aYe written in our annals, and embalmed in our me-
letestable and odious as those of homicides
If it hes come to this, and if public scorn
nan who can conceive and

country

aeutitnents, then indeed we may be-
net deMoralisation has partially done its work, and
',lean ethics of Manchester are henceforward to
nation. Not damnable nor horrid, unless
'nm be so, is the profession of those who
-d in the service of Britain, and died
for the maintenance of order, liberty, and religion. Other
trades there are far more liable to such epithets, but with
these, thank heaven ! we have but little practical acqnani-
tance. The trade of the greedy taskmaster, who rears in-
fants for his mills, and grinds them to their task until the
sinews shrivel up and the limbs are warped into early de-
crepitude—of him who will not recognise the existence of
an imperishable soul within the tender framework of the
children whom he makes the victims of his avarice—of the
advocate of long hours, because thereby he may keep his
human machinery under the complete control of exhaus-
tion,—the trade of that man, we sal, though it may be
tolerated in a Christian land, is but one shade less horrid,
and not a whit less damnable, than that of the slave-tra-
der, who is now chuckling over .his living cargoes on the
---4—"areoes for which he is indebted to the

are drawn tE

ightened legislation of Mr. Cobden and his liberal con_
crates I Are these the men who are tko revile and tra-
* our army ?- Faugh ! The leprosy of mammon is
In them, and our nature recoils from-their breath.—

alliask

THE SONG or DEBORAH AND BAR/M.-Ith' 19.0110
the noblest effusions of ancient poetry, and of poetry ae
to music—sung as well as recited. The willing help
the people is an homage rendered to those who did (fife(
themselves—for we find an exception made against certniat
of the tribes. I cannot imagine anything higher thanthif
state and sublimity wherewith this Ode of cerebration i/
ushered in, and the effect of God's presence, or at least
the manifestation of his forthputtings and hit power,4e.
depicted. The song begins with a reference to Godi.niaz4
terposal in former times. There is a differened of opinion;
whether the reference is two-fold, embracing !loth Goifisi
appearance for his people when they first enterdd the Holy..
Land, and the descent on Sinai— or whether :there be
reference to the latter only, for which some countenance
is derived from Deut. xxxiii. 2, which is most intelligahle
on the supposition that the approach o`. the Divine glory
to Sinai was from the east. However this might be set-
tied there is soon a transition downward to more recent
times—to the days of Shamgar, who effected a like deli-
verance to that which called forth this song of celebration!
—when the Philistines overran the land and forced .the'
people into skulking-places. The inhabitants After this-
had to retire from the unwalled and unfortified villages
till the days of our illustrious prophetess—so beautifally
designated as a mother in Israel, and which is still felt
and applied as the most characteristic description which
can be given of a venerable matron full of faith' and good
works, and a signal blessing, by the influence of her et-,ample, to the country or neighbourhood where She lives.:
The ode proceeds in the highest of all poetical strains to
its conclusion. The stars in their courses fighting against
Sisera is a truly sublime conception. Aleroz was probably•
some town which refuses its quota of auxiliaries. Nor
can we imagine anything more picturesque, more .Ossisaic.
than the representation of the ladies looking out; for the
return of their lord—while the blessing given upon Jaez
indicates a Divine command, or at least a strong and -
urgent sense of patriotism in her mind—else it were the
revolting barbarity of an Amazonian. Both the cruelty
and licentiousness of the age break forth iu this effusion.
It were strange now for women of rank to describe,•as
here done, the spoils of the war ; but, making allowances
for all that appertaineth either to the country, or to the
period in the history of the world, this must be confessed
to be one of the most elevated and heart-stirring poems
that has come down to us from ancient times.—Dr.. ONO-
titers' Daily Scripture Readings. t

AN,AMERICAN SPORTSMAN:-Dr. Isaac Hamberlin, a
worthy min and old citizen of this county, came to his
death, a few days since, in a most shocking manner.. One
day last week, Ilamberlin, with two other gentlemen,
left Satartia for a bear hunt, and proceeded to Lake
George, where it forms a junction with the Sunflower
river. A short time after they had landed from the Unit,
the dogs entered the cane and immediately struck a trail,
and Dr. Hamberlin followed them but a short distance,
when he came up with them and a very large bear in the
thick cane. Dr. Hamberlin fired at him, the ball entering
his head at the upper part of his nose, without doing
much injury other than to infuriate him, and he turned
and made at Dr. Hamberlin. The doctor endeavoured
to get out of the animal's way, but the cane being very
thick lie could run but slowly, and had run but a short
distance when the bear overtook him, seized him by the
thigh, jerked him to the ground, and completely stripped
Dr. Hamberlin's leg of flesh and muscles. By this time
the dogs again seized the bear and got him off. Dr.
Hamberlin then attempted to rise but could not, being so
badly torn. He then got out his hunting knife, the bear
left the dogs, and attacked Dr. Hamberlin the second
time, and tote him very riuch. This tune Dr. Hamberlin
succeeded in cutting one or two gashes in the throat of the
bear, but not deep enough to do him any material injury.
The dogs again diverted the attention of the bear from
his victim, and he left Dr. Hamberlin and engaged with
the dogs; but in a few minutes the bear came at hira. a
third time, when Dr. Hamberlin made a stroke at him,
but the bear seized the knife by the blade, wrenched it from
Dr. Hamberlin, and threw it some distance from him,
and seizing Dr. Hamberlin's arm mashed it into a jelly.
By this time the cries of Dr. Hamberlin brought one of
his companions to the rescue, and he, seeing the awful
situation of his friend, fired, and struck ti..e bear in the
neck, which caused the beast to leave his victim and take
to flight ; but another of the company coming up it as
opposite direction encountered the bear and shot it. Dr.
Hamberlin had his wounds tied up and was then carried
to the boat, to be taken immediately to Satartia, but he
expressed his unwillingness to return without having his
formidable antagonist with him. His desire was gratified
and he and the bear were taken to Satartia, where eri.inent
medical aid was brought to his assistance, but he died pa
the fourth day, after suffering during the time the moat
excruciating pain. The bear was very large, though poor,
weighing 3-101 b. with his entrails out.-1 azoo
21st of January.

INSTINCT IN ANIMALS.—At the meeting of the Lite-
rary Society last week, Dr. Warwick, who was intro-
duced by a member, narrated some curious facts with re-
spect to animals. When he resided at Dunham, the seat
of the Earl of Stamford and Warrington, he was walking
one evening in the park, and came to a pond where fish,
intended for the table, were temporarily kept. He took
particular notice of a fine pike of about six pounds weight.
which, when it observed him, darted hastily away. In so
doing, it struck its head against a tenter-hook in a poet
(of which there were several in the pond, placed to Pre-
vent poaching), and, as it afterwards appeared, fractured
its skull, and turned the optic nerve on one side. The
agony evinced by the animal was most horrible. It rushed
to the bottom, and, boring its head into the mud, whirled
itself round with such velocity that it was almost lostto
,the sight for ,a-short irAtergul, . it then plunged about&lie
pond, and at length threw itself completely out of mir
water on to the bank. He (the Doctor) went and /exa-
mined it, and found that a very small portion of the brain
was protruding from the fracture in the skull. He care-
fully replaced this, and, with a small silver tooth-pick,
raised the indented portion of the skull. The fish xe-
mained still for a short time, and he then put it again
into the pond. It appeared at first a good deal relieved.•
but in a few minutes it again darted and plunged about
until it threw itself out of the water a second time. A se-
cond time Dr. Warwick did what he could to relieve it,
and again put it into the water. It continued for save-
ral times to throw itself out of the pond, and with the as-
sistance of the keeper the Dr. at length made a kind of
pillow for the fish, which was then left in the pond to its
fate. Upon making his appearance at the pond on the
following morning, the pike came towards him to the edge
of the water, and actually laid its head upon his foot. The
Dr. thought this most extraordinary, but he examined
the fish's skull, and found it going on all right. He then
walked backwards and forwards along the edge of the pond
for some time, and the fish continued to swim up and
down, turning whenever he turned : but • being blind on
the wounded side of its skull, it always appeared agitated
when it had that side towards the bank, as it could not
then see its benefactor. On the next day he took some
young friends to see the fish, which came to him as usual;
and at length he actually taught the pike to come to hira
at his whistle and feed out of his hands. With other per-
sons it continued as shy as fish usually are. He (Pr.
Warwick) thought this a most remarkable instance of
gratitude in a fish for a benefit received, and, as italwitys
came at his whistle, it proved also what he had previously,
with other naturalists, disbelieved, that fishes are sensible
to sound.

BABYHOOD AND CHILDHOOD.—The nursery is a WOW,
derful world, and all that therein is ; but Baby is the
greatest wonder of all. That little separate thing in the
world,—uncommunicating with others, unremembered by
itself,--that mysterious state of being before the deluge
of memory sets in, lying there, like a hermit in its cell, as
if gathering strength in passive contemplation for the
world's encounter. Who says that a baby does not think
or feel ? Have they never seen that strange smile break•
ing " through clouds of infant flesh," and then passing
away, as if it caught for a moment the harmonies of
heaven ? Or have they never heard that stranger sigh—
the first spontaneous language of one who is " born io
sorrow," as if it heard from afar the growing jar of this
earth,—incognisant, to our apprehension, as it lies pis-
sively there, either of this world Qr that, yet stamped by
that very smile and sigh, as the being who stands myste-
riously between both ? But the noise and uproar linye
been too much! The round lustrous eyes are wide open,
which, like the eyes of the Divine Child in the Sistine
Madonna, seem to look at nothing, in gazing beyond all
things ; and baby is seated on nurse's knee. There it
sits, the little stranger, who dwelleth so calmly amongst
us, without speech or movement, though brothers and
sisters are screaming and running around it, lookincr'so
serenely content, as if he knew how little either could
weigh in the balance with its own deep repose. There is
no model like a lovely baby for true queenly dignity,7—the
wide open gaze, the hands' slow movement, the proud
drawing up if the usual etiquette be transgressed,—re-
minding us of the beautiful lines in the Lyra Inaoce4.-
glum :

" Why so stately, maiden fair,
Rising in thy nurse's arms,
With that condescending air,
Gathering up thy queenly charms ?
the round, round, portly form, moving slowly to and fro, hie
bedded in lawn and fine linen. And then, when a few.
months older, the truly royal impatience of opposition, the.
autocratic air with which the spoon and rattle are dashed
down, the haughty stare if some monitory voice exclaim,
" Baby, baby ! ' and then the celestial smile, as if to for-
give you for having been angry with her. , We have'
dubbed the baby feminine. Babyhood seems so, with:iti
beauty, its softness, its helplessness, and its waywardness.
—ladylike in each of its attributes. But look now at that
little swaggering urchin, with scarcely more than two a
our short years over its head, and it is a boy all over. The
reign of dignity has been succeeded by that of impudence.
Noise and movement are now his chief element. Up the
chair and down again. If you take him up he kicks!aud.
struggles; the more comfortable you try to make him the
less he likes it ; restlessnees is his rest. If he is not talk-
ing to you, he is talking to himself—stamping, hammer-
ing, rattling, clattering ; whatever can make a noiseis
plaything to him. Like another Nero, he wishes all the
bells in the house had but one string, that he might ring,:
them altogether. Nothing but sleep can quiet him, ilia
then, if the truth were known, he dreams of bangtoti
doors! Mischief and courage have begun together ; he'd
horns take a dog by the tail or a bull by the ;' screams, to
be held upon a coach-horse he can't stride, and kicks this..
animal to make it go faster; is all ready to tire oft' a gas.,
and roars because you will not let him ; struggles awsi
from the maid to run after the she?p ; tumbles down"; Is
picked up with a mouth full of gravel, and a " Never'ub
peace with you, Master John is held double tigheby
the maid all the way home, with an admonitory chuck,
now and then, which almost dislocates his shoulder, bait
manages to put his feet into the puddles for all Oise!
Bless the child ! he is all right in his start for life, sad'
plague and pleasure alike he will give.—Ftram.,, mag;
TUE FISIIHRS AT THE EAST Or SCOTLAND.—Dia
boats that were at sea all morning return about noon.
and then the women who gathered the bait are really
with their creels to carry the fish to the shed to dress
them. In the first instance, the fish must be partedf.
However large or small the take may be, the fish are
divided in lots, each man having his lot determined by
nit of ballot, Suppwef for elailiele, that the crew cost....