Carnarvon and Denbigh Herald and North and South Wales Independent

POETRY. 1 FREE QUARTERS FOR JANUARY. Winter is all around, With its hunger, and cold, and pain Last night the frost,—to-day the sleet,— To-morrow the roaring rain Our hut it had many a cranny, That let in the wind and cold On you and me and our children three And our mother so starved old. But now we are driven abroad,— Forced out from our wretched home: 'Twas ba:l,-I)ut vv,)i*se in the fierce wild wo* Id, So let's gulher our rags and roam. Now the clouds are our only roof,— The earth is our only bed No friend—(or he stands aloof!) Not a penny to buy us bread The bird has her nest on high, The tiger beneath his den And they each have a friend, in bird or brute, -But I am alone,—with men; With men that oppress and prey, And cozen, and rob, and lie, And laugh, (whilst their brothers pine ;) They are merry,—then why not I ? Come on We have sought for work In vain,—not a man would hire We begged for a crust,—in vain, And lay dawn with our throats on fire. So now let us cheat and prey, And plunder and lie,—nnd then We shall haply have foo l to eat, And may thrive like our fellow-men. As it is, we have struggled and toiled (How haril!) through our whoie life long; Anil all we at last have gained Is but matter for one poor song. Z1NCALO.

NEWSPAPERS. Within a century, newspapers and mngazlnes,instead of making the most of a. little, or something out of no- thing (a- we very often do in these days), made tin least of a great deal. Parliamentary proceedings wert starved down into paragraphs. Foreign wars, the ex tinction of kingdoms, rebellion-, invasions, regicides and usurpations, found their WilY into print at such deferential interval after they had takeu place, as to as sume something of the ancestrial air of a tradition The contemporary pres-i was a sort of antiquarian re pository. It loitered in the track of history exercise, no current authority wielded no power over the fu ture and scarcely belonged to the present, except i its triuial manifestations. It recorded premature chil dren and gigantic turnips, but waited for great event until time had resolved them into philosophical studic; Public men were approached with mystery. The prc phets who moulded the destinies of nations were veile from the people. Politics were discussed in blank o scrutinized by inuendo. If a rumour crept out, th chief actors in it were cautiously concealed under dashe. or initials, in the manner of the amatory scandals o the perio"u.. The minister who committed a public in- discretion was dealt with in much the same way as fashionable row who had run away with an opera dancer. A press which thus lagged behind the action and intelligence of the time had neither the means nor the capacity for diffusing practical information, or es- tablishing a machinery, by which the progress of na- tions could be telegraphed over the world for the com- mon instruction of mankind. Times are changed. Edinburgh and London are next-door neighbours. Waggons are to be found only in the obsolete pages of so:e legendary Londiniana. The East is at our doors and there is not a league of the remotest waters of the earth that is not ploughed by our swift and inccssant prows. We make no excur- sion to Constantinople ns people used to do, in Gar- rick's time, to Tunbridge Wells. Baden-Baden and the Black Forest have superseded Leamington and Bath. Anstey's Guide is displaced by Bullies from the Brnn.iens. Newspapers contain every thing, and are fonnd every where the only difficulty is to read them. The threads of newspaper correspondence enclose the whole globe in a net-work of espionage. Nothing can happeu that is not sure to get into a newspaper while it is happening, and sometimes before it has happened. It is no idle bluster to say that the eyes of Europe are on you. The eyes of Europe are the newspapers of Europe; and these same eyes are on every man, woman, and child, whose lives uie of the slightest interest outside their own circles. It has been beautifully said of flowers, that they start np in the most unexpected places, where there is hardly a handful of soil, and even where there is none, striking their tender, yet vigorous roots into the crevices of the naked rock. The same thing may be said of newspapers. They seem to be sown, like certain seeds, by the caprice of the winds. Wherever there is a settlement of a dozeu people, you may look out for a newspaper. The first necessity of a new population is a newspaper. It inverts sometimes the vulgar principle of political economy, which will insist that the demand produces the supply; for it happens with newspapers every now and then, that the supply produces the demand. The newspaper of a little colony often comes into existence before the readers some far-sighted speculator being always in advance with an article of consumption which he knows well enough will become indispensable by and bye. Even New Zealand, while it was yet undergoing the early stages of an excruciating experiment, had a newspaper; Hong Kong, where the fatality of the climate might be sup- posed to deter any sensible man from risking more than a month's subscription, has its Gazette. Indeed, we are not quite sure that a newspaper is not a sort of social extinct. People get up newspapers where there is nobody to read them but themselves. Passengers on a long voyage, who have no news to tell, except that which they get from each other, and nobody to tell it to when they get it, frequently amuse themselves by playing at newspapers. This is more remarkable than the most out-of-the-way birth of flowers. A bare- bell on a rock is not hulf so surprising1 as a newspaper on board ship. But the difficulty is to read them. A man afflicted with the moiio-manieal desire to master the details of a newspaper should make it the sole business of Lis life. He should gat up early and not go to bed late, and do nothing else but read the newspaper, and then he couldn't do it. Nobody can nobody does. But every- body is expected to be acquainted, more or less, with that daily universe of facts which is laid open before him every morning with his hot rolls and butter. He is Elxpected to devour and digest them both. The man who should do this would, undoubtedly, acquire a boundless and ever-increasing heap of scattered infor- mation; but, lucking the leisure to cast it carefully in a mental cruciUe, he would never be able to ext-act from it a proportionate result of wisdom. There is a difffc ranee. The obligations we owe to newspapers are incalcu- lable but they must be rightly understood to be pro- perly appreciated. The newspaper is the wonderful collector of facts. Out of these facts—collected with infinite pains, unsparing' labour, and great discri- mination—history is gradually shaped by more patient bands, as the statue is slowly wrought by the sculptor from the rough block.—Eraser's Magazine. ORATORS AND WRITERS.—It wo. Id be different to name half a dozen great orators who have been great writers also. The difference of the two methods is this the s weaker requires excitement. Like a watch if he be but v ound up to a certain pitch, he will go for hours together. Whatever he may have in him, if he have confidence withal, it is pretty sure to be de- veloped, and even expanded into a larger amplitude than its own. His spirit rises to the height,—the arducusness if you will,—of the enterprise. The con- sciousness of his situation is a spur to him. The fel- low-feeling of bis audience and the impression be pro- duces on them induces him to go on. His mind is prompted by his voice; the energy of his language, U: p force and variety of his intonations carry him beyond his ordinary self; the breath of popular ap- plause fans him into a blaze. Whereas, if you shut up the same man in hia own room, you bring the spirit of the captive over his mind. His forces full back'upon him his imagination becomes torpid the current of his thoughts is brought to a dead pause. Leave him to his meditation you leave him to vacancy. His vein flows no longer. The light of the publio eye, the spark of public sympathy that should fir* the train, is with- drawn from him, tad so he sink* into darkness. Capel Lqfft. Kisses and apples are very similar; they should never be tasted without pairing. The Earl of Carlisle has rallied, and his medical at- tendants have hopes of his ultimate recovery. If you would keep your hands from chapping during the winter, wash them as often as you please, but rub them bright dry" each time don't leave a particle of moisture for the cold air to act upon them. During the alarm caused by a threatened invasion of this country by the French, in 1798, the following sin- gular announcement appeared in the public papers The Bishop of Winchester has sanctioned the whole of the clergy of Hampshire, and especially of the Isle of Wight, to take up arms in the present crisis, and also to do whatever they may think best for the service of their country." From September until the beginning of the present month, 28,071 mice were taken in Dean Forest, Glou- cestershire, on all area not exceeding 1,093 acres. This wholesale slaughter was effected by boring in the ground holes twenty inches deep, wider at the bottom than at the top, so that the mice which entered could not climb out; and in these holes an attractive bait was placed. TOTAL Loss OF HER MAJESTY'S BRIG SNAKE.— News has been received of the total loss of the above vessel, on a coral reef in the Mozambique Channel, on the 29th of August. The officers and crew escaped quite unhurt, and arrived safely at Mozambique, but the vessel wns entirely lost. The event was attributed to irresistible currents. SPECIE IMPORTS.—The following vessels with specie have arrived in the Mersey; namely, the packet-ship Lirerpn: from New "lork, 10,000/ and the Te-rian from Muzatlan, 30,000 dollars; the Abbots Reading, from Muzatlan, 30,000 dollars; the Abbuts Readiug, from Ishy, with dollars and bars of silver amounting in value to 100,000 dollars; and the steam-ship Hi- bernal, from New York, 90,000/.—Liverpool Albion. THE INCOME AND PBOPERTVTAX.—A report is pre- valent that when the Chancellor of the Exchequer brings forward his budget for 1848, it will be found that the Government intends to increase the income-tax from 7d. in the pound to five percent. excepting only those whose incomes are less than 100!. a year. It is stated that there are g-ood grounds for believing that this arrangement has been determined upon. A SITD" To give you an instance. A gentleman received a let- ter, in which were these words Not finding Brown at ho-m, I delivered your meseg to is yj* The gentle- man finding it bad spelling, and therefore not very intelligible, called his lady to help him to read it. Be- tween them, they picked out the meaning of all but the !ij; which they could not understand. The land- lady proposed calling her chambermaid, "because Betty," says she, has the best knack at reading bad spelling of any one I know." Betty came, and was surprised that neither sir nor madam could tell what /was. "Why," says she, yj spells wife—what else can it spell ?" And, indeed, it is a much better, as well as shorter method of spelling wife than double- yon, i, tj*, e, which in reality, spells doubleyifey. PnrxcE ALBERT'S HEALTH.—The 'Sun' stated that Dr. Meyer, a medical practioner of considerable repute in Germany, Has been appointed domestic phy- sician to his Royal Highness Prince Albert. It is understood that, at times, the Prince Consort labours under an affection of the lungs." Upon this statement the Times' remarks, We are happy to be able to contradict a report, which would be received with universal regret, that his Royal Highness the Prince Consort labours under a disease of the lungs. Several frivolous and evidently unauthenticated reports have been going the round of the newspapers to the effect that her Majesty had been bitten by a dog, had established a millinery department, and engaged a German phy- sician they all, however, bore the character of un- founded gossip. The statement, however, with regard to the health of Prince Albert is of a sufficiently serious nature to merit an immediate and distinct contradic- tion." DR. HAMPDEN.—Lord John Russell has been very unjustly charged with want of courtesy to the bishops who remonstrated against the appointment of Dr. Hampden to the see of Hereford., He might, perhaps, without much impropriety, have imitated the answer which Lord Campbell relates, in his "Lives of Chancel- lors," was written on a similar occasion by Lord Chan- cellor Kilkerray, for King Hwiry III. "Itlstruel have been faulty in this particular: I obtruded you, my Lord Canterbury, on your see; I was obliged to employ both entreaties and menaces, my Lord of Win- chester, to have you elected; my proceedings, I con- fes, were very irregular, my Lords of Salisbury and Carlisle, when I raised you from the lowest stations to your present dignities. I am determined henceforth to correct these abuses; and it will become to you, in order to moke a thorough reformation, to resign your p■resent beiufce, and try again to become successors of the Apostles in a more regular an canonical manner" It is rather too much to take advantge of the" Manga Charta of Tyranny," and to complain that "it pollutes the statute-book."—Morning Chronicle. BENEFIT OF ADVERTISING.-Of all the facilities for business afforded by newspapers, the advertising columns afford the greatest. They put it into every man s power to send his business card into houses and amuies; to make himself ever present, to speak for his own cause, whenever the discussion of a subject in- teresting to himself comes up. If he is a dry goods ea er, and in the family sewing circle, the want of any ai 1c e o clothing, or if any ornament is spoken of, the ready newspaper tells the story, and directs them where ey a once supply themselves. The stove dealer, le coa e er, the miller, tailor, shoemaker, grocer, baker, and in fact, every tradesman or dealer, whose craft ministers to the comfort or necessaries of a family or individual, finds his best and surest friend in the newspaper. The dullest times are precisely those when a man should advertise the most. If the customer lias little money to expend, he very naturally looks about him to see where that little can be disbursed'to the most ad vantage. To roan, ahout town and make in- quiries cost more than it cotaea to; consequently, that tradesman who publishes his terms and his wires is I sure of ten tunea in all cases, and in ma y ten timex one hundred, the axaount of the sum invested.—Adver- tising Ah*™ MODKSTV.—An acute Frenchman has remarked, that the modest deportment of really wise men, when contrasted with the assuming air of the young and ignorant, may be compared to the different appearance of wheat, which, while its ears are empty, holds up its head proudly; but as soon as it is filled with grain, bends modestly down, and withdraws from observa- tion. BORROWING NEWSPAPERS.—It is wonderful how much people think in all countries, of buying a news- paper. A man who will waste hundreds of pounds on ridiculous trifles, wiil submit to wait hours for his daily journal, to have it taken from him when b the very midst of an interesting article, to save, perhaps, a mere matter of a few halfpence per day.—Mirror. VOLCANO IN THE .MOON.—During the waning of the last moon, when it was three days and twenty-one hours old, a bright spot, comparatively at about one quarter the size of the planet Saturn, became visible, and varied in intensity as an intermitting light, resembling the flushes from Etna, with the flowing out of the volcunic lava. On applying a telescope of five feet, focal length, charsred with the inverting powers of eighty and thirty, and putting the brighter portion of the moon jusi out of the field of vision, the object was instantly visible to the most uninstructed eye.- Lt'ith Mr entry. PERILS OF EDITORS.—Mr. Southey mentioned to me the jeopardy in which he had recently been placed. He found it necessary, in reviewing a book written by a native of the Emerald Isle, to treat it with rather unwonted severity, snch as it richly deserved. A few days after the critique appeared, he happened to c dl 011 a literary friend in one of the Inns of Court. They were conversing on the work, and the incompe- tence of the writer when the author, a gigantic Irish- man, entered the room in a great rage, vowing ven- geance upon the critic. Standing very near Mr. Southey, he raised his huge fist and exclaimed, And if I knew who it was I'd bate him." Air. Southey observed a very profound silence and not liking the vicinity of the volcano, quickly retired reserving his laujih for a less hazardous occasion. MPNCHATTSEN OCTlJO:E,-A Mr. John Smith, who is described, evidently not without reason, as a fast" talker, gave the following description of the blowing-up of a steam-boat on the Mississippi, which is recorded ;U a j York paper ot' a recent date I had landed at Helena for a minute to drop some letters into the posfoJHce, when all of a sudden I heard a tremendous explosion, and looking up saw that the sky was for a minute darkened with arms, legs, and other small bits and scraps of my fellow travellers. Amongst an un- commonly ugly medley I spied the second clerk, about all hundred and fifty feet above my own level. I re- cognised him at once, for ten minutes before I had been sucking a sherry cobbler with him out of the same rummer. Well, I watched him. He came down through the roof of a shoemaker's shop, and landed on the flour close by the shoemaker, who was at work. The clerk, being in a hurry, jumped up to go to the assistance of the other sufferers, when the man of wax' demanded five hundred dollars for the damage done to his roof. 'Too high,' replied the clerk; 4 never paid more than 2o0 dollars in my life, and I've done the same thing oftei^ "-Thr Family Joe Miller. THE CANNIBAL SAWNEY BEANE.—Sawney Beane, as the tradition s-oes, was a Scottish outlaw, who had committed so many robberies and murders that a large pric;' was set on his head, and concealment became difficult. In his emergency, he discovered a large cavern on the coast only accessible at low water. Here he took with a congenial wife; and to destroy the evidences of murder, he used to carry the bodies of his victims to his cavern, and ate them as butchers' meat, both fresh and salted. 011 such food he "raised" a stock of children, and lived respectably afrer his own moral standard. But though the water "on the salt sea's marge" could obliterate his footsteps' traces, it was not so with the smoke of his hideous kitchen on the blue heaven. He was tracked at last, and his race extinguished, without any experiment as to the pos- sibility of eradicating the canibal habits of the chil- dren.— West minuter L'evieir. PHYSICAL EFFECTS OF MENTAL EMOTION.—Sud- den terror has brought on various diseases,—insanity, catalepsy, apoplexy, even hydrophobia. The hair has turned f rev, or white, in the space of an incredibly short time. The following curious case of this nature has been recorded :—The peasants of Sardinia are in the constant habit of hunting eagles and vultures, both for profit and as an amusement. In the year 183i), three youny men (brethren) living near San Giovanni de Dornas Novas, having espied an eagle's nest in the bottom of a steep precipice, they drew lots to decide which of them should descend to take it away. The danger did not arise so much from the depth of the precipice—upwards of a hundred -feet-but the appre- hension of the numerous birds of prey that inhabited the cavern. However, the lot fell on one of the bro- thers, a young man of about two-and-twtnty, of ath- letic form, and of a dauntless spirit. He belted a knotted rope round his waist, by which his brothers coultl lower or him at will; and, armed with a Bhurpuned infantry sabre, he boldly descended the rock, and reached the nest in safety. It contained four eagles in that peculiar bright plumage called the light Isabella. The difficulty now arose in hearing away the nest. He gave a signal to his brethren, and they began to haul him up, when he was fiercely at- tacked by two powerful eagles, the parents of the young birds he had captured. The onset was most furious, they darkened the cavern by the flapping of their broad wings, and it was not without much diffi- elllty that he kept them off with his sword when, on a sudden, the rope that suspended him swung round, and on looking up lie found he had partly severed it with his sabre. At this fearful sight he was struck with such a sudden terror, that he was unable to urge his companions to hasten to his delivery, although he still kept his fierce antagonists at bay. His brothers continued to haul him up, while their friendly voices endeavoured to encourage him he soon reached the summit of the rock; but although he continued to grasp the eagle's nest, he was speechless, aud his hair, which had before been of a jet black colour, was now as white as snow.—Mind and Matter. EVERY ONE HIS OWN SHOBMAKER.—On the in- troduction of gutta percha as a material lor the fabri- cation or repair of boots, it was imagined that leather would very soon be entirely superseded, and that gutta percha soles would be invariably and permanently employed. These soles are so easily affixed to the upper leather, and prove so singularly adhessive, that there was every probability of the expectation being realized. A plan, however, has just been proposed, which will entirely change the current of enterprise into the old channel, white it will enable every one to become his own shoemoker, with extraordinary ad- vantage to our system of household economy. It is proposed, that, instead of applying an entire sole of gutta percha to a worn-out shoe or boot, the shoe or boot shall, when necessary, be veneered, with the old material (leather), the new material (gutta percha) being used iu a liquid state merely as a sort of glue for ensuring. its adhesion. By this arrangement a boot may be instantaneously rendered waterproof, and a fresh sole be applied whenever the old one exhibits any sign of dilapidation. George Cruikshank showed, in his Comic Almanack for 1848, the disagreeable effects of the new-fangled substance by his illustration of the Blucher and the Wellington sticking to the pavement outside the eel-pie shop. According to the simple arrangement we have just explained, the gluti- nous properties of the gutta percha can be turned to advantage without any such disrgreeableconsequences; while the unpleasant odour peculiar to itself a).d to caoutchouc when heated, will be altogether obviated. How far this plan is valuable in a pecuniary way mOIl,. be conjectured when it is borne in recollection that the new substance is 2,y 6d. per lb., while the old one is merely 1." 6d. and 18. 3d. per lb. A cobler's knife, a bottle of gutta percha, and a supply of leather, would render any one independent of his shoemaker for a twelvemonth.—Sun. DRYDEN AT WILL'S COFFEE-HOUSE.—Dean Lock- yer has left us an interesting account of Dryden, as he appeared at his favourite coffee-house. I was about seventeen," he says, when I first came up to town, and was an odd looking boy, with short rough hair, and that sort of awkwardness which one always brings up at first out of the country with one. How- ever, in spite of my bashfulness and appearance, I used now and then to thrust myself into Will's to have the pleasure of seeing the most celebrated wits of that time who then resorted thither. The second time that ever I was there Mr. Dryden was speaking of his own things, as he frequently did, especially of such as had been lately published. If anything of mine is good,' Pays he,4 it is Al ge Flecnoe" and I value myself the more upon it as it is the first piece of ridicule written in heroics.' On hearing this, I plucked up my spirits so far as to say, in a voice but just loud enough to be heard, 4 that Mnc Flecnoe" was a very fine poem, but that I had not imagined it to be the first that was ever writ that way.' On this Dryden turned short upon m<S as surprised at my interposing; asked me how I had been a dabbler in poetry; and added, with a smile, 4 Prav, sir, what is it that you did imagine to have been writ so before? I named Boileau's 4 Lutriu' and Tasuoni's Secchia Rapita' which I had read, and knew Dryden had borrowed some strokes from each. Tis true,* said Dryden, 41 had forgotten them.' A it tie after Dryden went out, and in going spoke to me 'again, and desired me to come and see him the next day, I was highly delighted with the invitntiob, went 'o Me him accordingly, and was well acquainted with him ev«r after as long as h« lived.—Jeue't Memorials of London, r. MADNESS FROM IMBIBING AMMONIA.—In London, last week, a younr man named Burchell, who had been drinking for some days, was found by a fellow-workman drunk. The latter undertook to cure him, and poured a quantity of ammonia down his nostrils and throat. Next day, the unfortunate youth had to be conveyed to a lunatic asylum, in a state of hopeless madness. CAPTAIN CUTTLE AS COOK AND CARVER.—The captain had spread the cloth with great care, and was making some egg-sauce in a little saucepan: basting the fowl from time to time during the process with a strong interest, as it turned and browned on a string before the fire. Having propped Florence up with cushions on the sofa, which was already wheeled into a warm corner for her greater comfort, the captain pursued his cooking with extraordinary skill, making hot gravy in a second little saucepan, boiling a handful of potatoes in a third, never forgetting the egg-sauce in the first, and making- an impartial round of basting and stirring with the most useful of spoons every minute. Besides these cares, the captain had to keep his eye on a diminutive frying-pan, in which some sausages were hissing and bubbling in a most musical manner; and there was never such a radiant cook as the captain looked, in the height and heat, of these functions it being impossible to say whether bis face or his glazed hat shone the brighter. The dinner being at length quite ready, Captain Cuttle dished and served it up with no less dexterity than he had cooked it. He then dressed for dinner, by taking off his glazed hat and putting on his coat. That done, he wheeled the table close against Florence on the sofa, said grace, unscrewed his hook, screwed his fork into its place, and did the honours of the table. 44 My lUlly las- said the captain, "cheer up, and try to eat a deal. Stand by, my deary Liver wing it is. Sarse it is. Sassage it is. And potatoe!" All of which the cap- tain ranged symmetrically on a plate, and, pouring hot gravy on the whole with the useful spoon, set before his cherished guest.— Uombey and, Son. LIVERPOOL.—We reached Liverpool with the gray dawn of morning scarcely perceptible aud the busy town half hushed in sleep. As soon as we gained the deck we found it tenanted with policemen, whilst all things seemed carried on in the most business-like and orderly manner: no jostling and pressing of porters. But, having satisfied the Excise-office that our many cases contained no mountain dew, an l com- mitted ail our goods and chattels to the agent's care, we were allowed to enter a cab (in waiting) in peace, and proceeded to our hotel through a dark line of warehouses, that probably stored much more of this world's glittering gear than their dingy exterior de- noted. Liverpool is of all mercantile towns the one to which we would give the preference. There is a brighter look about it (at least it seems to us) than in others. Its inhabitants wear a less plodding and care- worn aspect. They appear to enjoy life even whilst watching the turns of fortune's fickle wheel, although, to say the truth, when passing through the Exchange at the busiest hour of the afternoon, we remarked many a face fraught with anxiety and care but how could it be otherwise, when the monetary crisis so terribly felt of late was still pressing on Liverpool's merchant princes, and even the most cautious amongst them might have cause to dread the morrow ? That gloom, however, has somewhat abated, we thankfully hear. But as we contemplated the beautiful group of bronze figures raised in the centre of the Exchange, we could not but contrast its subject, and that of the busy scene enacting around us. There stood men (mostly) grasping at future wealth; perhaps slighting the present good in their way for the sake of acquiring gold that they would never fully enjoy,—gold that they might merely secure for others to possess or, when at once attained, find the desired competence had come too late. Whilst in the midst of that very mart stands a subject sufficient to warn the veriest dreamer of the uncertainty of all things, however apparently firmly held. We allude to the statues before mentioned, Nelson, with the cold hand of death chilling his exult- ing heart as the laurel wreaths of victory decended on his brow, such a stafue might afford a subject of grave thought to even the most successful speculator. But masterly as is the conception and execution of this fine bronze, we cannot divine why the artist should have chosen four figures of weeping slaves to ornament the base. Fine manly forms they certainly are, although disgraced by chains; but what they can have to do with Nelson we are at a loss to conjecture. We con- clude that there must have been some good reason for placing them there but we avow our ignorance of the same. Nelson and freedom might be coupled together in our imagination as one and the same thing; but Nelson and chains jar on our mind as things incom- prehensible and impossible.—Tali's Magazine. THE FRENCH AT BRIGHTON.—" Jolly Mr. Punch, -As a lone woman, sir, I write to you about our na- tural defences. I've been reading the 4 Sussex Adver- tiser,' and Brighton, it seems, is in a pretty state of deshabille, and may be surprised any morning—as one may say—with its hair in papers, afore the town knows were it is. The place is ruined, Mr. Punch lo igers not coming here, as thinking themselves double ha- zardous. For it is to be believed, sir, that married men with families will let their wives and children come down when—at no notice at all-the town may by boarded by the French fleet, and screaming women and children be carried off in gigs and jolly boats to say nothing of the property? And yet, 4 Mr. Punch' 1-118 my poor dear Gerkins used to ask, and 'specially when he'd had a glass—and yet we are called upon every day, I may say, to pay taxes. Yes, sir, we are made to pay window-lights, when, at an." minute, our sashes may be blown to mince-meat by the cannon- balls of the French As Gerkins would have said, is this honest of her Majesty's ministers? If ever there was a town that had its weakness—and that weakness known to the French—it is this precious Brighton. Of course. Why, I myself—never minding what I though* the nonsense of nat'ral enemies, so as they paid their way-I have let my first and second floor to French families, that now, I'm sure of it. only took 'em for spies. Yes, sir; I've no doubt that Periwinkle Villa, Marine Parade—that's t my house, sir, and painted from top to toe only last May—is known to all the French. There isn't a French soldier (I'll be bound) that does'nt know where to put his hand upon the plate basket—not a man among 't'm but wonld'nt, in the dark, find his way to the beer-seller. (Not but what I shall take precious good care to disappoint 'em). And tillS is the case with every other house in the place. We are known, inside and out. We haven't a garret bid fi-oui 'em. They may cut us up, and share Us out like cakes. Thinking of this, I put 011 my bou- het and victorine, and went out to take a good look of qle town. When I saw that we'd only a handful of &nos at West-street, and not so much as a pocket pistol at Seaford Bay, I said to myself—What's to prevent tie French coming here whenever they like ? Why -I'm certain of it—when the moon didn't shine, they "light come over, and let themselves into all the town with latch-keys; for it isn't likely-so many lodgers at there have been here—that they went away without tsking false ones. I am not a timid woman, Mr. Pmcli'—poor Gerkins would always allow that much of me but upon my word and honour I do assure you, w\en I saw myself standing on the Marine Parade wi h not a gun—no, not a single piece of cold iron, as the word goes—between me and France, I did tremble for Brighton I did tremble for my Queen (though her Majesty has left us for the Isle of Wight); and I did treiiible for Prince Albert and the rest of the Royal family. I do hope, 4 Mr. Punch,' that you will write dirtctly to Rear Admiral Lord John Russell—(who, I have somewhere heard, once did such wonders when he commanded the Channel Fleet)—and beg of him to send two or three hundred ships always to lie between us and the French. The wooden walls, air-as poor Gerkins used to say—the true hearts of oak that grow the laurel! And moreover, I do think, if government would only send down Mr. T. P. Cooke to dance twice a night the sailor's College Hornpipe it would do a great deal of good to public spirit. However, at least I do trust that you will insist upon the heads and branches of families all going into the Militia. Not that I hope we shall have any use for them- speCially with the hearts of oak beating in the sea—but there is always this beauty about soldiers, when they're not useful they're very nice to look at. Once I used to think there was a sort of protection about the Royal liveries that noW and then flamed in and out of the Pavilion. To be sure-poor things'.—they rather looked like the ghosts of footmen on board wages, than the stout rosy fellows that, when George the Fourth used to bathe here, made the place so gay and hand- some. Well, sir, now they are gone. It was a sad sight, but only yesterday the last footman (with a car- pet-bag marked in faded worsted, 4 G. R.') took his long leave of Brighton by the second train. And there's the Pavilion, as empty and good-for-nothing as a shell that's held an addled egg. What should be done with that, sir? Why I'll tell you. It should be worked with loop-boles over and over, and be filled from top to bottom with brass cannons. If brass can't be got, let 'em, without owing it, try wood, as better matching the building. And moreover, sir, as it's the dull season, I do think—especially as the court's left us—that government might take all the lodging-houses (the barracks not holding 'em) for the soldiers. First and second floors for officers-third, for men. Struck by this happy thought, I send my card of terms. Ten guineas first floor, seven the second. Plate and linen found. (Boots not included.) Address, post-paid; and believe me, your obedient servant, MARY GERKINS. —PS. As at such a time England-u poor Gerkins used to say—expects every woman to do her duty, I shall have no objection (for an extra three pounds) to mount two oannons at my attic windows, if warranted not to be fired."—IJunch. FABLES FROM "LESSING.The Fox and the Stork.—41 Pray tell me," said the Fox to the btoik, some of the wonderful adventures you met with in the strange lands you visited." Thereupon the Stork began, and gave him the name of every pond and rich meadow, where lie had found the most delicate worms and finest frogs. My friend L- wrote a book about his travels in France, somewhat after the same pattern. The Wasps.—Corruption preyed upon the carcase of a gallant steed, who was shot down in battle. The wreck of one animal is employed by ever-active Nature to furnish a cradle for another, and a swarm of young wasps came out of the carcase. 44 Oh, how glorious is our descent!" said the wasps, "the noble steed, the favourite of nature, is our parent!" The writer happened to over-hear them, and it reminded him of our modern Italians, who fancy they are descendants of the old Romans because they were born upon their graves. The Nightingale and the Hawk.—A hawk pounced upon a nightingale singing in the hedges, crying, 41 Since you have such a sweet voice, how delicious you must be to eat!" Was this ignorance or trony in the hawk ? I don't know, but I heard some one say yesterday, "That young lady, who sungs so delight- fully, would make an excellent wife." Norman Terror.—(A morcjeau for Dan o Benllyn.)— 44 From the fury of the Normans, good Lord deliver us!" was, we are told, in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries, a petition in the Litanies of all nations.— Henry III., 554.—From a Correspondent. A GOOD PRIEST —A lady, possessed of a handsome fortune, but desiring- to pass a retired and tranquil life, devoted to the duties of religion in preference to the distractions of the world, presented herself before an ecclesiastic, whose merits have placed him at the head of one of the most important parishes in Rouen. 44 Mon- sieur" she said, I am rich, and am a widow, without children or relations. I am anxious to make a good use of my fortune, and have just realized a portion of it in bank-notes, which I carry in this portefeuille. I request you to accept of them and, when I am dead, you will say mass as often as you can for the repose of my soul." At the sight of a very considerable sum, (I was assured 30,000 francs,) the good priest could not contain his surprise :—Quoi, Madame you wish me to accept all this money 44 I implore it ofyou as a fa- vour." 44 Ecoutez, Madame, it is our duty to pray for the dead, but we do not require to be paid for that, or, at the fitting time, a moderate sum will suffice. I pro- mise to say masses for you if you die before me. Em- ploy your riches in performing good works, and Hea- ven will reward you." 44 JJais, Monsieur, I told you I had no relations." 44 Cherchtz Men dans votre esprit, -you will find some work of benevolence in which you may employ it." The priest was so eloquently persua- sive that the lady soon remembered that her husband had been formerly assisted in his business by another merchant, who had since died unfortunate, leaving a son in an unprovided condition. The 30,000 francs, through the intervention of the worthy abbe, passed into the hands of this young man, to whom they were formally secured by a notary, and set him up in busi- ness. Reader, you may sneer at or disbelieve this anectode if you please. But it positively occurred while I was at Rouen, and the abbe who behaved so honourably is well known as one of tlie most amiable men in the city, remarkable alike for his esprit and vir- tues.—An Overland Journey to Lisbon. HINTS TO PARENTS.—Children should not be hedged in with any great number of rules and regulations. Such as are necessary to be established they should be required implicitly to observe. But there should be none that are superfluous. It is only in rich families, where there is a plentiful attendance of governesses and nurses, that many rules can be enforced and I believe that the constant attentions of governesses and nurses is one of the greatest moral disadvantages to wh ch the children of the rich are exposed. I have heard a multiplicity of petty regulations defended, on the ground that it was a constant exercise of the child's sense of right and wrong. But will a child be really the better for thinking about whether be does right or wrong, that is, always thinking about himself? Were it not well that, for hours together, no question of right or wrong should arise in his path ? or, at least, none that demands from him more than a half-mechanical attention ? For the conscience of a child may easily be worn out, both-by too much pressure, and by over- stipulation. I have known a child to have a conscience of such extraordinary and premature sensibility that at seveif years of age she would be made ill by remorse for a small fault. She was brought up by persons of excellent understanding, with infinite care and affec- tion, and yet by the time she was twenty years of age, she had next to no conscience and a bard heart. A person who had some experience of precocious con- science once observed to me, in respect to those chil- dreu who are said to be too good and too clever to live, that it was very desirable they should ».<»*. Tirese views are not. course, too be pushed too far.—Tay- lO'l"" Notes from Life. A KANGAROO CHASE.—My attention was attracted to the movements of old Tip, who had stolen away from the party, and was now, venrre a terre, scouring along the edge of a belt of trees, about a quarter of a mile from us, his master in vain tried to recall him, and I set off to see what he was about. Following him through the wood, I perceived him at the other side in hot pursuit of half-a-dozen kangaroos, that were bound- ing away some hundred yards a-head of him. It was in vain to attempt to recall him, so I foolishly fol- lowed the chase, though it was leading away from the direction 1 wunted to take. Old Tip held on unflag- gingly, as though this were his first run that day for nearly two miles we dashed along through woods and across prairies, until I began to wish myself hack with my friends. At length we lost the game in a vast swamp, covered with thick underwood, in which my horse floundered for some time in a fearful manner. Thinking it worse to return than to push through, we struggled on, in momentary danger of sinking for ever, and after great exertions got on solid ground again. When I dismonnted to rest the horse, who panted and trembled with the efforts he had made, I called for Tip till the woods raug again, but all in vain. At last I saw a single kangaroo, a fresh one, of immense size, break cover, with Tip about forty yards in his rear. In the ardour of the chase all prudential considerations were given to the winds; and, cheering on the gallant hound, I followed the game more determinedly than ever. And what a race that villain kangaroo led us! —through thickets, where my hunting-shirt was torn into strips, my arms and legs covered with bruises, and my face lacerated with boughs which were not to be avoided. The villain doubled like a hare, and ltd us in such various directions, that I fancied we must have turned upon our steps and gone past the spot where I had parted with my friends. Unless a man be very well acquainted with the bush he is certain to lose him- self in a few minutes. One clump of trees is so like another, the thick swamps, the open plains, all bear such a general resemblance to one another, that you feel quite confounded whilst trying to recollect whether you have really seen them before, and can form some tolerable guess as to your position. The kangaroo was now approaching the foot of the long, even, and unin- teresting range of the Darling Hills. His pace was slow, he made his leaps with difficulty, and would soon have been caught, had not poor Tip been equally dead beat. It was evideht the old dog could scarcely drag himself aloug, but still he refused to give in. My horse, exhausted with flounderinsr in the swamp, was completely knocked up and for some time I had only been able to push him along at a jog trot. Still I was no more willing to give up the chase than old Tip. It seemed to have become a point of honour that I should not desert the hound and, moreover, feeling myself completely lost, I did not like to part from my com- panion; and, above all, it would never do to let the kangaroo escape after all the trouble he had given us. So we all three continued to work along as best we could. At last my poor horse happened to set his foot in an empty water-hole, and too weak to recover himself, came down on his shoulder and side with great violence. I threw myself off as he fell, but could not save my foot from being crushed beneath the saddle, and so both horse and man lay extended on the ground. I could just see the hound and kangaroo still struggling onward, and almost close together. The horse made no attempt to rise, and I tried in vain to extricate my foot; at length I managed to flog him up, and then raised myself with difficulty. I had not suffered much damage, though bruised, and in some pain, but my poor horse bad sprained his shoulder, and was completely hnr., de combat. On looking about for the chase I fancied I could perceive the dog lying on a little rising ground, a few hundred yards distant; and, leaving the horse, I hopped after the game. On arriving at the spot I found the kangaroo and the dog lying side by side, both alive, but completely ex- hausted the one unable to do any injury, and the other to get away. Securing the dog with my hand- kerchief, I sat down, waiting till he should be able to walk. In a few minutes the kangaroo lifted up his head and looked about him; the dog sat up, panting as though his heart would burst, and took no notice of the other. The kangaroo, scrambled to his feet, hopped away a few yards, and then stood still again. Go along, old fellow!" said I, "you have done us abun- dance of mischief, but it would be criminal to kill you when I canuot carry homo even your tail, so farewell1." Off he jumped, and waa soon lost to view, leaving us alone, three miserable cripples, far from any shelter, and (so far as I was concerned) not knowing at alThow to rejoin our friends. Tip being now able to limp oat three legs, and myself upon one, we returned to the unhappy steed, who remained where I had left him, hanging down his head, and looking the image of wo. REMARKABLE EXPERIMENT.—A recent work of science gives the following novel experiment, which settles question of some importance in philosophy:- Two hundred pounds weight of earth were dried in an oven, and afterwards put into an earthen vessel. The earth was then moistened with rain water, and a wil- low tree, weighing five pounds, was planted therein. During the space of five years the earth was carefully watered with rain water, or pure water. The willow grew and flourished, and, to prevent the earth being mixed with fresh earth or dust blown into it by the winds, it was covered with a metal plate, perforated with a number of small holes, suitable for the free ad- mission of air only. After growing- in the air for five years the tree was removed, and found to weigh about one hundred and sixty-nine pounds and three ounces; the leaves which tell from the tree every autumn were not included in this weight. The earth was then re- moved from the vessel, again dried in the oven, and afterwards weighed it was discovered to have lost only about two ounces to its original weight; thus one hundred and sixty pounds of woody fibre, bark, or roots were certainly produced but from what source The air has been discovered to be the source of the solid element at least, This statement may at first ap- pear incredible, but, on slight reflection, its truth is proved, because the atmosphere contains carbonic acid, which is a compound, or 714 parts by weight of oxy- gen, and 388 part by weight of carbon. WILL'S COFFEE HOUSE.—Will's Coffee-house, so conspicuous in the literary history of a former age, stood on the north side of Russell-street. Here used to assemble the wits and men of fashion of the reign of Queen Anne and here, for many years, the immortal Dryden sat and was reverentially listened to as the great oracle of the place. It was Dryden," says Spence, on the authority of Pope, who made Will's Coffee-house the great resort for the wits of his time." In the winter, we are told, his acknowledged place of honour was by the fire-side, and in summer his eh iir was removed to the comer of the balcony on the first floor, overlooking the street. This was ill the days when men of fashion were sometwhat better informed than they are in our own time; when discussions on literature and the drama were the agreeable topics of every-day conversation, and supplied the vacuum in society which is now supplied by French novels and an Italian opera. In any literary dispute the great poet was invariably made the referee those who were un- known to fame never dreamed of being admitted to the principal table at which Dryden presided and the young- men of rank and fashion, we are told, considered it the highest honour to be allowed to take a pilleh out of his snuff-box. It was to Will's, that Pope, then a mere child, (for he could not have completed his twelfth year,) induced his friends to curry him in whose path of fame and genius he was destined hereafter as worth- ily to follow. Tantum Virgd'iu.m ,¡,id:t 44 Who does not wish," says Dr. Johnson, 41 that Dryden could have known the value of the homage that was paid him, and foreseen the greatness of his young admirer ?" J'ope himself became afterwards a constant frequenter of Will's, though it was not till the illustrious Dryden was no more. He had now," says Dr. Johnson, "declared himself a poet; and, thinking himself en- titled to a poetical conversation, began, at seventeen, to frequent Will's^ a coffee-house 011 the north side of Hus- seJI-street, in Covent-Garden, where the wits of that time used to assemble, and where Dryden had, when he lived, been accustomed to preside." DEADLY RESULTS FROM THE RESPIRATION AND INOCULATION OF PUTRID ANIMAL MATTER.—I trust that sufficient has now been said to prove in the clearest manner that exhalations from the dead are injurious to health, and capable of generating malignant disease, which may, and often docs, terminate rupuily in death. This proof I have endeavoured to deduce from a chain of reasoning-from a series of facts—as strong and as conclusive as any that can be brought forward to support propositions which have received the universal consent of mankind. I have shown you in the first place, that the inoculation of putrid animal matter, during dissection, for example, often gives rise to a putrid disease which terminates in death. I next proved that bodies, before they are interred, may either communicate to the living specific diseases, such Its the plague, typhus fever, &c., or cause serious derangement to the health from the ordinary products of decomposi- tion.—1 then traced the same fatal agency to the dead body after interment, showing that sudden death or grievous maladies have been produced by the poison- ous emanations from vaults or open graves; and arriving at what ought to be a last resting-place for the dead—the grave-yard, I demonstrated to you that the emanations from such places are injurious in the highest decree, and that more especially where igno- rance, cupidity, or insolent immorality have insulted the remains of the dead, the punishment has in some cases been instant and unmistakable. I proved, beyond the possibility of cavil, that with limited spaces of irtar in the midst of all ever increasing population, such necessity must not only exist, but become more urgent every day. The abominations connected with intra-mural sepulture must continue, they must ussuma a more dangerous and more disgusting character every day, because with a rapidly increasing population we have no means of extending the narrow limits assigned to its defunct integers.—From Mr. G. A. Walker's Fourth Lecture on the Metropolitan Grave-yards. LUXURIES OF THE ROMANS.—The luxuries of the table commenced about the period of the battle of Ac- tium, and continued in the reign of Galba. Their delicacies consisted of peacocks, cranes of Malta, nightingales, venison, and wild and tame fowls: they were also fond of fish. The reigning taste was for a profusion of provisions: whole wild boars were served up, filled with various small animals and birds of different kinds. This dish was called the Trojan horse in allusion to the horse filled with soldiers. Fowls and game of till sorts were served up in pyramids, piled up in dishes as broad as moderate tables. Mark Antony provided eight boars for twelve guests: Caligula served up to his guests pearls of great value, dissolved in vinegar. Lucullus had a particular name for each apartment, and a certain scale of expence attached to each. Cicero and Pompey agreed to take supper with him, provided he would not order his servants to pre- pare any thing extraordinary. He directed his ser- vants to prepare the supper in the room of Apollo. His frievds were surprised at the magnificence of the en- tertainment. He then informed them that when he mentioned the name of the room the servants knew the scale of expense. Whenever he supped in the room of Apollo the suppernlwnys cost £ 1,250. He was equally sumptuous in his dress. A Roman Prsetor, who was to give games to the public, requesting to borrow one hundred purple robes for the actors, Lucullus replied that he could lend him two hundred if he wanted them. The Roman furniture in their houses corresponded with their profuseness in other respects. Pliny states that in his time more money was often given for a table than the amount of all the treasures fouud in Carthage when it was conquered by the Romans.—Ancient Commerce. STRENGTH OF CONJUGAL AFFECTION IN THB NEGRO.—Some time in the year 183 the Rev. Theo- dore S. Wright, late of this city, called and solicited aid for a fugitive slave. He introduced to me a young and slenderly built man, but whose sickly countenance was lit up by an eye that told of intelligence and decis- ion. Said I, 4 Are you going to Canada?' 'I have been there, and am on my way south.' Myself: 4 What returning to slavery ?' 4 Never,' said he but I have a wife yet a slave, and I hope to liberate her.' Willing to try him, I said, 'Are there no wive* to be had in Canada?' Fugitive: 'I want my own wife.' But if the slave holders get you, you will be cruelly used.' With calm decision, he replied, 4 They shall not easily take me, and can never Veep me a slave I know too much for them.' 4 But liow do yo* intend to proceed ?' I shall remain in the woods near the plantation, and my wife will come to me.' As he stood before me, in his old plaid cloak, feeble in body, but strong ill the right, and in the God of the oppres- sed, I could but offer a silent prayer that all his hopes might be realised. And so they were but not in the way we hoped. In making the attempt to rescue hit wife, he was recognised, and seized by his master, and both were sold to slave dealers. They were placed oa board the same ship the white sailors alone, as usual, having access to the women's apartment. Then the anxiety of Madison Washington about his wife, Sooa brought him into collision with the crew of the slaver. A blow was aimed at him with a handspike, as he came up from the women's slave peck. The result was, two whites lost their lives, the rest submitted, and agreed to take the vessel into the British island of New Provi- dence. The subsequent efforts of the president and senate of the United States, aided by the diplomacy of Daniel Webster as Secretary of State, to get these •murderers of the Creole,'are partof the history of two nations. To the honour of England not evea threats of war coJd induce her to sacrifice to the ven- geance of the American bar racoons, those who, in the hour of their triumph, were yet ™rcifuito men whe rarelv show mercy. What an example to the braggart ? 0 nfitnv here say the slave has no love for £ «. Henr, Bibb m.a. to tret his wife, going each time from a several effoi £ state and, if I remember righL Madison Washington, was also taken prisoner in a« effoX ^thiawife (as above related). So we ,e« that tho £ holy •rujTn ,V10In °Uly t0 the *°od. and planted by God himself as the very corner stone the social, edifice, are strong in the heart of the 'black man.- nay» how constantly art all tb« aoeial ties of the wave trampled upon !"—left** from miliar, E, Whiting, Evg., dated New TQtt. Nov. 30th, 1847.