North Wales Gazette

WOMAN. A woman's love—that holy flame, Pare as the mighty sun, That gladdens us with torch of fariie The heart it shines upon. It faints not in the blast of woe, Nov in misfortune's hour, At open hate, a covert blow. For pride, for pomp, for power. It conquers time, it mocks at pain, And deathless is its will, And when all earthly hopes are vain It feeds on memory still. Yes !—as this brittle record stands A footing frail we find, A sigh shall shake our house of sands, And leave no wleek behind. But woman's love shall fall the last, And like clos'd flowers at night, It shall but sleep till that is past, Then burst to deathless light. 4i!H--

ON SPRING. Translated from the Greek Idyltium of Mcteager. WHILE far retiring Winter leads his train, Spring laughs, empurlell with her tlowers again; The dark brown earth with brightest green is crown'd, The forest waves his leafy ringlets round; And meadows drink the dews Aurora throws, And smile a welcome to the new-borne rose, With joy the shepherd pipes the hills among, With joy the goatherd counts the early young. Again the seamen spreads the wanton sail, Aadcleaves the wide waves on the zephyr gale; Again to Bacchus the glad swains carouse, And with flowering ivy twine their brows What time the bees their virgin wax-work mould, And fi-aiiie their cells, the sweets of Spring to hold. Again the birds their power of song employ,— A thousand notes, and every note of joy. Swallows, as circling round the walls they sweep, And halcyons brooding on the peaceful deep; On the lone river's brink the swan is heard, And in her secret grove the evening bird. The earth her leafy ringlets waves at large, The shepherd carols o'er his fleecy charge Once more the sailor cleaves the verdant main Once more li lie Bacchus leads the carol train Once more the wild bees hum—the wild birds sing: How should the bard forget to hail the Spring ? —Till—

IRELAND. I SUCH of our Readers as bestow much consider- ation upon Irish affairs (and probably such only,) are aware of the existence, in the Sister King- dom, of a certain Doctor Doyle, who signalized himself, about a year and a half ago, by standing forward as the Sponsor of Prince Hohenloe's mi- racles; and, after that, the Saint Prince had given him leisure for polemics, by his unaccountable lapse into inactivity,distinguished himself no less zealously as the great anti-Protestant Champion t of the Roman Catholic Hierarchy. To such as know nothing or but a little of this controversialist, it is moreover fit to say, (for reasons which they will presently understand,) that this is the very same Doctor Doyle, whom a writer in the last New Monthly Magazine," a writer of his own school, and pretty much of his own order, has lavishly eulogized as a man of letters and of genius. This Doctor Doyle has addressed an Epistle to the Catholic Association in Dublin, intended to answer and refute Mr. North's admirable speech upon the proposed grant to the Kildare- t So- ciety,and to vindicate the Catholic Clergy in Ire- land from the charge of neglecting the education of their followers. This letter appeared on Wed- nesday last; and whether regarded as an illustra- tion of the writer's pretensions to literature and talents, as a sample of the feelings engendered in the Roman Catholics by the conciliation of tricks, or as apiece of polemical logic, it is quite a curio- sity. A word to each of these heads. It were, doubtless, unreasonable to expect a writer not only to understand, but to exemplify the subject upon which he writes where that sub- ject belongs to high matters— To be himself The great sublime he draws." is given only to a master genius. But, when a gentleman undertakes to expatiate upon an art within the reach of every one, it is not going too far to expect, that he shall not exhibit any re- markable deficiency, either in its theory or its practice. When Doctor Doyle comes before us. therefore, to uphold the activity and success of I himself and his brethren, in diflusing throughout Ireland, the advantages of education, heoughtto take care not to write in such a, manner as to create the impression, that in their zeal for the education of their flock, the Roman Catholic Clergy had for-. gotlen to educate themselves. We do not presume to cavil with the Doctor's style. Demosthenes says, that ttaf is always eloquence, to which taste or the passions of the hearer will respond, and the vapoury tumor which swells every ranting period of this (throughout ranting,) letter, may be eloquence to the Catholic Association. As little are we disposed to quairel with the Doctor's violation of English idiom in every sen- tence though not English, the Doctor's pro- duction may be very neat Anglo-Irish, for aught we know to the contrary. The Grammar, however, Of the English spoken on both sides of the Channel is, we believe, the same; and we submit that the structure of the fol- lowing sentence, so far as that structure can be discerned through the mist of dreadful fustian in which it is enveloped, cannot be reconciled to any known system of English Grainn-iai* Sticti bocks as have been mentioned, might have been introduced into some of the hedge schools in Ire- land where no Priest could be founds except one moving in the solitude of the night, o), the silence of the glen; those eventful times, when the popula- tion of Ireland was without form, and void, and no spirit of order moving on its troubled surface when revolution after revolution, war after war, confiscations, robberies and reprisals were the ordinary events of each succeeding year; when Courts of Equity were dens of thieves, and tne Laws of the County armed the father against the son and the son against the father; when there was a Church without a religion, and some rem- nant of religion, but without a Church when the banditti, such as now infest the Sierra Morena,i« Spain, shared in the general plunder, and drowned the recollection of the sufferings they endured and inflicted in riot and licentiousness; thea, --an(] ajtei- then, many books and rhymes, embodying the po- pular tales, and suited to the deranged taste of a distracted people, were composed, andcirculated, and introduced too often into schools but they were few in number."—We could select a score or two of similar sentences from the letter but what we have extracted is quite enough to show how well qualified the Doctor is to write about educations. The concluding solecism, many books and rhymes, which were few in number, does not, perhaps, belong properly to the class of offences against Grammar. The meaning is quite inexpli- cable on this side of St. George's channel; and it is difficult to believe that eveu in Ireland it was written in the morning. The time of the day at which the letter was produced cannot, however, extenuate the bad feeling that rankles every where in this malig- nant and mischievous production. Whether com- posed in the sobriety of a Lenten morning, or cum verax liber asperit pnecordia cceca," the letter bears testimony to a cherished malevolence against the Established Church—indeed, against all the reformed Churches, and the creeds of all classes of reformers, which is deeply disgraceful to any man assuming the title of a Christian Minister. The reader has had, in the sentence quoted, some proof of this malevolence the following will be thought another— ,4 Nothstanding my abhorrence of the demoral- ising and antichristian principle, of committing the Sacred Scripture to the interpretation of every prating Sophist, oj every senseless child, oj every silly old woman, I have tolerated their introduc- tion into those few schools, where the reading of it was so guarded, that no abuse of it could be reasonably apprehended." Such is the strain in which this person, calling himself a Christian teacher, speaks of the indis- criminate communication of the Holy Scriptures- such is the spirit excited in the favoured class by the conciliatory persecutions—and such are the persons whom it is hoped to appease and satisfy by submission and caresses. The Doctor's argument may be disposed of in a very few words. The education of Catholics by Catholics has, for 37 years, been solemnly le- galized. That it has been 75 years free in prac- tice, we know by the Roman Catholic Bishop's answer to Bishop Berkeley. But the 31 years of indisputable statute freedom is quite enough to overthrow the argument, for it comprehends the period in which far the greater part of the existing generation have been educated. How have the Catholic Clergy employed these 31 years ? Have they used the influence which they possess, to promote a fair, a candid, and a libelal system of education? The question ought tobeansweredby their friends with some caution, for it leads to a very dangerous dilemma. What thelrish peasantry are we know though a bad education might, perhaps, have made them such, the effect of a gObd education would have rendered them very different. If the Roman Ca- tholic Clergy have educated the peasantry they are responsible for the dismal consequences of their instruction. But we will not, even upon the authority of Doctor Doyle, believe that the Ca- tholic clergy have trained the Irish peasantry to be rebels, incendiaries, and murderers, as they must have done, if they have educated them. Neg- j lect is the more charitable hypothesis, and it is the hypothesis in which all the proofs conclude not, indeed, the neglect produced by indolence or a relaxation of vigilance, but a neglect proceed- ing from that jealousy of scripture knowledge in the laity, which is a cardinal principle of the Ro- man Catholic church, and which is the spring of all Doctor Doyle's struggles against Mr. North and the Kiidare-street Association. For he must be blind, who does not see that this broil with Mr. North and the Kiidare-street Society, has been excited solely with a design to obstruct the progress of religious knowledge. For ourselves, with the highest respect for the talents and bene- volent views.of the member for Plympton, and the good intentions of his associates of the Kildare- street society, we have never been very sanguine in an expectation of the extension of education in Ireland, until the people shall be raised by poor laws into the condition of moral agents and made by the same means morally independclIt, of their priests. A doorless, windowless stye, like an Irish cabin, is a bad place for study, and the abject creature who seriously believes that the fiat of his fellow-mortals can sink him to perdi- tion, or exalt him to paradise, is in no state for intellectual exercises. The Kiidare-street So- ciety has made some progress, because that pro- gress has been unsuspected. The jealousy of the Roman Catholic hierarchy is now alarmed, and all further advances will be most industriously opposed. We cannot conclude without affording to our readers the enjoyment of a smile at the expence of our contemporary of the Morning Chronicle, who gravely, yes, gravely, talks of this Doctor Doyle, this wholesale dealer in bulls, paralogisms, and false grammar, as an antagonist to be feared by the author of the Essay on the Atonement.

CAPTAIN PARRY'S VOYAGE. CONTINUED. CAPTAIN PARRY having proposed to send out a land expedition in order to obtain in-formation as to the relative position of the coast beyond inter Island, in order to save time during the short season for navigation, and the weather appearing favourable, Captain Lyon and a party were dis- patched on the loth of March, 1S22, to make trial for one day. of the progress likely to be made; but the weather suddenly changing, the party were exposed to great hardship and danger. The following is Captain Lyon's narrative of his ex- pedition. "'At-7 A.M. on the 15th, we proceeded to- wards the hills to the northward of our winter quarters. A strong wind arose soon after our starting, and blew directly in our faces, thick clouds of drift snow with it. On ascenuing the sloping 'giound we found the sledge too much for us, and it was with great difficulty dragged through the soft snow in which we waded knee deep. The wind had now increased to a heavy gale, our utmost view was hounded to twenty yards, and every time of resting to take breath we all received severe lVosi bites. Tlie sun having risen above the thickest part of the drift snow enabled us to steer a di- rect northerly course, for we expected in that di- rection to arrive at a small bay, which had hern observed by Captain Parry and myself on our first arrival. At-ten we were confirmed, in oi;r conjecture by descending siidoenly'and arriving r-t a quantity of grounded ice, direcited by which we made our way round the head of the bay, and I arrived on the side of a small hill a little after J I. —The intense severity of the weather determined me on pitching Put- tent, aad waiting, until, in better weather, we could from the rising ground command a view of our future route. When the tent had been pitched an hour, I and our party were all smoking to promote warmth, the temperature at our feet was 1 deg. below zero, and over our head amongst the smoke I t 7 deg.; in the outer air it WaS-i) deg. which although of itself sufficiently cold was rendered doubly piercing by the strength of the wind.— John Lee was soon seized with a fit of shivering and severe pains in the loins, to check which we put hiru into his blanket and covered him with clothes that cauld ill be spared. A deep hole being dug in the snow a fire was made with the being dug in the snow a fire was made with the greatest difficulty, and we were made comfortable I for a time by a warm mess of soup. I after- wards found that it would be possible by extend- ing our excavation to make a cavern in which we might pass the night, for it would have been next to impossible to continue in the tent. Soiue of the men were therefore set to work, and had thus so good an opportunity of warming them- selves, that our only shovel was lent from one to the other as a particular favour. At e P. M. the outer air was 15 degrees, and zero was the temperature of the tent, when Arnold's pocket chronomoter stopped from the effects of tlie cold. 4 By 4 p. M. the cavern was finished and of sufficient size to contain us all in a sitting pos- ture. Aftertaking some hot soup,Lee was removed to the warmest place we could select, and, mak- ing a fire, we managed by its smoke, which had no vent, to raise the temperature to + iiU deg. while outside it had fallen to — 25 deg. 0 We now cleaned our clothes as clean as possible from the thick coating of snow drift, and closing the entrance of the cave with blocks of snow, we crept into our blanket bags, and Inhi- died close together to endeavour to piocure a little sleep. Our small dwelling had a very close feel, which was perhaps not a little augmented by the'reflection that a spade alone couiti liberate us again after a night's drift of snow and our roof bring two feet thick, ald 1Iot of the must secure description, there was no small probability of its breaking down on us, in which case, coulined as we were in our bags, and lying almost upon each other, we should have but iittle chance of extricating ourselves. At day light on the lcitli we found the tem- perature at + 'if> deg. until we dug out the en- trance when it fell to + 15 deg, while outside it was £ 5 deg. 1. We again lighted our fire and, after sitting two hours in such thick black smoke that we could not see our feet, succeeded in making some tea, which answered a doublepurpose, as it served to thaw some meat which was frozen in the canisters. At 9 A. M. the gale was unabated. The tent was half buried in the snow, and I set all hands to work at digging out the sledge, but it was so deeply sunk that our efforts were unsuc- cessful, and in the attempt our faces and extre- mities were most painfully frost-bitten. With all these difficulties before us, Mr. Palmer and myself consulted together as to whether it would be most prudent to endeavour to pass another night in our present precarious situation, or while we were yet able to walk make an attempt to reach the ships, which we supposed were about six miles fiom us. We could not see a yard of our way, yet to remain appeared woryjethau to go forward, which last plan was decided upon. At thirty minutes past nine, having placed all our I luggage in the tent, and erected a small flag over it, we set out, carrying a few pounds of bread, a little rum, and a spade. The wind being now in our backs, we walked very briskly, and havmg an occasional glimpse of a very faint sun through the drift, managed to steer a tolerable course.- James Carr having loitered a'little behind us was suddenly missed, and by the most fortunate chance we saw him running across our path in search of us for had he been ten yards further off he might have been lost.—After walking se- veral miles we came to grounded ice, and saw the tracks of Esquimaux men and dogs. but these were so confused that we knew not which marks to follow. Not knowing on which side of the ships we had arrived, we feared to go southward or east- ward, and accordingly went as nearly west as possible, in which direction we again crossed tracks. Ii We now wandered amongst the heavy hammocks of ice without knowing which track to pursue, and, suffering from cold, fatigue, and anxiety, were soon completely bewildered.—Se- veral ofoor party began to exhibit symptoms of that horrid kind of insensibility which is the pre- lude to sleep. They all tpossessed, extreme willingness to do what they were told in order to keep in exercise, but none obeyed on the con- trary they reeled about like drunken men. The faces of several were severely frost-bitten, and some had for a considerable time lost sensation in their fingers and toes; yet they made hot the slightest exertion to rub the parts affected, and discontinued their general custom of warming each other on observing a discoloration of the skin. We continued for some time to employ them in building a snow-wall, ostensibly as a shelter from the wind, but in reality to give them exercise, for standing still must have proved fatal to men in our circumstances. My attention was particularly directed to Serjeant Spackman, who having being repeatedly warned that his nose was frozen had paid no attention to it, owing to the state of stupefaction into which he had fallen. The frost-bite had now extenledoaer one side of his face, which was frozen as hard as a mask, the eye-lids were stiff, and one corner of the up- per lip was so drawn up as to expose the teeth mrnammmBI— and gums. My hands being still warm, I was enabled to restore the circulation, after which I used all my endeavours to keep him in motion, but he complained sadly of giddiness and dimness of sight, and was so weak as to be unable to walk of himself. His case was so alarming, that I ex- pected every moment he would lie down never to rise again. Ottr prospect now became every moment more gloomy, and it was but too evident that foilr of our party could not survive another hour. Mr. Palmer, however, endeavoured with myself to cheer the people, but it was a faint attempt as we had not a single hope to give them. We had less reason to fear immediate dangerto ourselves, in consequence of having fur coats instead of woolien ones. Every piece of ice. or even small rock or stone, was now taken for the ships and we had great difficulty in preventing the men from running to the different objects which at- tracted them, and loosing themselves in the drift. In this state, while Mr. Palmer was running round us to warm himself, be suddenly pitched on a new beaten track, and as exercise was indis- pensable, he determined on following it where- ew it might lead us. Having taken the serjeant nnder my coat, he recovered a little and we moved onwards, when, only those who have been in a similar state of distress can imagine our joy at fiiuling the path led to the ships, at which we ar- rived in about ten minutes. John Lee had two of his fingers so badly frost-bitten as to lose a good deal of the flesh of the upper ends, and we were for many days in i ear lie would be obliged to have them amputated. Can, -who had been the most hardy while in the air, fainted twice on coming below and all had had severe frost-bites in different parts of the body, which recovered after the loss of skin usual in those cases.

EPPJSG IIU-NT. I Hk who has not been at the Epping IIunt has been no where. England is undoubtedly the most capital coun'ry in the whole wo rid London is tho capital of England; the inhabitants of London are capital cockneys, and the Epping Hunt is cockneyisf nighly concentrated. So that he who has not seen the Eppmg Hunt should never boas of his ravels, because he has comitted to see the sight which is not to be seen any where else, and which is, HI fact, the neplus ultra of every thino-. V es.er.iay was the day of this annual grand turn-out and what a lovely yesterday it was The very elements themselves laid aside their sulks, and assisted in making surpassingly brilliant and dusty Early in the morning, indeed, matters looked rather dull; the pedestrians seemed to be rather backward in comming forward, and every- body began to wonder what was become of every- body; but towards twelve o'clock every thing was just as it should be; and long before the stag-which, by the bye, was a hind-was turned out, there was as fine afield as ever was seen "SiticeNiiiirod bold, That mighty hunter, first made war on beasts." There was Mr. Dionysius Drake, thedrysalter from Sunmery-axe, on horseback, with his duck and all his little ducklings in a handsome shandry- dan by the side of him. There was Mr. and Mrs. Dabs, and all the little Dabses, from Lower Thames street; Mr. Dabs an cheval, and the family in an elegant shy, green picked out black. ( There was—but it is impossible for us to indivi- dulise at so short a notice, and therefore we must content ourselves with saying, that all the people of condition from Whitechapel eastward to Bow. and all the fashionables from Houndsditch, and all the haul-ton of Duke's-places and Davis Marks, were present. The gentlemen—many an one of whom hired a hunter for the occasion—were, for the most part, well mounted, either on boilers, roarers, sky- scrapers, or daisy-cutters, and the ladies and little ones in an endless variety of carriages. By one o'clock, p. lit. they had all conglomerated in the Forest, on the brow of the hill beyond the Bald- Stag, and there they waited the commencement 4 of the sports-the gentlemen making the most of their horses, and the ladies making the most of the sandwiches, and every now and then ex- claming, Dear me where is the deer 1" But the deer was not to be had at that time for its owners were making the most of it in Woodford, by exhibiting it at threepence a-head to the cu- rious and as curious could not be all satisfied till it was two o'clock before the deer was brought to the ground and then, as Mr. Drake, the drysalter, said," the viml was so high, the scent,. vould'nt lay." However, scent or no scent, just before 2o'clock, the deer hanimal was brought down from 'food- ford in a cart, attended by some six or seven couples of hounds—harriers and beagles assorted and two or three hundred boys, who made the welkin ring with a view-halloo before the deer was uncarted. At length the door of the eart was gjiened. Jjjsat deer was poked out and away she went down tfo valley, surrounded by hundreds of horsemen awl footmen -some before her and some behind her all whooping and hallooing pell-mell whilst the ladies looked wondering, and the hounds had enough to do to save themselves from being tram- pled to death by the horses. In two minutes, however, the deer had distanced two-thirds of her pursuers, and which way is she gone 2" was the cry hut luckily, at this moment, a hare star- t led from her form among the underwood by the universal uproar, aud took across the open ground. Another view holloo resounded far and wide: men, horses, and dogs were after her in no time, and after a hard run, of three hundred yards, poor puss was literally trampled to death, and carried away in triumph to the Roebuck inn. What became of the deer was for a long time doubtful; but towards four o'clock she was found up to her chin in Old Goldin's pond—about three miles from where she was started and was brought back in her cart to Woodford, little the worse for wear. When the fun was over, the sportsmen, sports- women, and sportscUildren adjourned ko the public- houses on the forest, where they made themselves as jolly as possible for an hour or two, aud then returned home, singing And a hunting we will go, And a hunting we will go, And a huntingwe willgo, o, 0, oh! And a hunting we will go." ;f- In October last a man named Osborn, of St.

John's Common, was seised with typhus fever when at length the fever fell into his feet, which h gradually wasted,until about ten days ago, when both feet dropped off at the ancie-joints and were buried in Keymer church-yard. The man's health is now re-established, and he is gettino- lusty.—Lewes Journal, ° SCILLY ISLA.N-DS.-Tlie state of distress to which great numbers of the Off Island people of Scilly have long been reduced (chiefly through the want of adequate employment for the young, and of suitable provision for the aged and helpless) is acquiring a very alarming aspect. There are many families at the present monlent, literally in want of bread, and having nothing to subsist on. but a few potatoes Their general complaint is, we have neither corn, flour, nor rno««y," this state of things lasts, many of their little patches of ground must this year remain unsown and unproductive. What the end will be, it is fearful to conjecture. The mortality on 1,0111f. of the islands has been unusually great within the last three months. A numerous and respectable meeting had been held in Calcutta, to discuss the feasibility of steam communication with England via Suez; a. Committee had been formed, who having discus-, sea the merits and importance of the project opened a subscription,and resolved to bestow one lack of rupees upon the first individual or company who should make two complete voyages fiom England to India in steam vessels, the passage in no in- stance to exceed 70 days, eitherby the Capeof Good Hope or the Red Sea, in vessels of British. register, and of not less than 300 tons burthen. Eullick, Brighton, was severely burnt. The accident was caused by some bee's wax, and tur- pentine, which the girl was employed in melting, boiling over into the fire, and the flames unfortu- nately caught the girl's clothes. Sherashedinto, the shop to her father, Who used every endeavour- t0 the flame without effect; he then took her into the street, where a passenger, with, gica presence of mind, pulled off his coat, and! wrapping the sutferer in it, succeeded in subduin- ft! fle' V\e "I"' waus b»'"t ^ery much about the lace and shoulders, but hopes are entertained of her recovery.— Brighton Herald, Mr Arburthnot President of the Board of Woods and Forest's, and the Attorney General maXn thatt0pMr' J°"eS' the Mei»ber for C^ ductioo nf G,overnnient agree to the re- coveries in'\vnf S Sllver Paidon Fines and •,i f Wales, to the sqme amount as that had t tv, ^oramon l?leas regard being 0 the Crown Leases existing in part of North Wales.- This notification took place before any case on the subject had been laid before the Law lucers of the Crown. CUBIOUS CASE.—Ten weeks since a puppy, nine months olcl,belongit,'g to Mr. Thos. Williams, coachmaster of this town. having ardently got possession of a piece of pork short bones, in which an iron skewer six inches long was sticking swallowed it with the mtat. The poor animal suffered very considerably, In consequence, till 3 Tuesday lust, when the citd of the skewer was observed to protrude on the near side, by the shoulder-b'ade bone. A cork was fastened on the point of it to prevent its again working into the animal's body, and half an hour after the puppy was observed to take the cork in its mouth, and draw the skewer out. It is now quite well.-Readii,ty Mercury, PRINTED & PUBLISHED by c. DRÓSTEIÍ

AT BANGOR, CARNARVONSHIRE V Orders, Advertisements, and other Commu- nication* mil betlunityutly received bu the Pro- prietor, and by thejollowing Agenb Messrs. NEWTON & Co. Wariviek-square, London. Mr. R. BARKER, 33, Fleet-street ditto. Messrs. J. K. JOHNSON & Co. Dublin. Mr. BROSTEH, Bookseller. Chester > Mr. GEE, ditto, Denbigh. Mr. SAUNDERSON, ditto Baia. Mr. R. JONES, ditto, ft,,thin. Mr. CARNES ditto, Holmell. Mr. PUGH, ditto, Dolgellau. Mi\ R. EVANS, ditto, JJanrwst. Mi. ROBERTS, Postmaster, Conwau. Mr. SALTER, Bookseller, Xeirton. Vv^QfF^AberysticM. 7his Paper is transmitted, free of postage, to any part oj the kingtiom, tit 6t 1. 13s. per aw num or £ 1. lOs. if paid in advance. The inser- turn oj advertisements procured in any of the Lon* don or provincial papers, throughout tke E-tilvilo-

POETRY. —«S*>j<S-— For the North Wales Gazette. ANERCII Y BARDD I'W FFON GOLLEN. Fy ffon a'lll cyfaiil! Ti fy ^ghymmortb cu! Gwaelyw dy dras, bonheddig yw dy Rin, Ti ferch y GoUen ffrwytfelavva! Dvro'th nawdd I lywio'r.j camrau ar y llwybrau cul, Cemglog, SCl'tilaidd-hyd fy ngartref draw ;— Rhag ii. with wyro, syrthio -ar fy mIl-en I bwll, a cholli'm hall, a'rbywyd man. Dy bortli I'm dyro, moesi mi dy ben Caruaidd, mwyn, di-ragiitli, dan fy Haw, I'w cadw rhag enbedrwyd Inbs a'r gwyll. Anhebyg tii ddati- -vynebog ddyn, 'R luvn, yn yr hinon lw\s, a'r hat'aidd ddydd, Im truthio ddaw, a wyneb gwenol ffug Pan ddelo c'ledi hwn a ymbeliha, Neud oddiwrthyf try ei wyneb gau. Nil felly ti! trwy eirwon ffyrdit a phyll, I'm cyimal i, di-rwgnach dodi'th droed Dy hew, i'm cadw rhad y dyfnder llaith. A pharod wyt, (pe amgen fai,) a'th ben I holli siolau pob gelynion gwrdd. F' amgeledd dirion, tyr'd i'n hannedd glyd, Ar hyn o dro. gorphenodd 'nawr eiataith. -¡t,-

MISERIES OF A STAGE COACH. [FROM A* AMERICAN PAPER.] AFTER all," says Madame de Stael, it is a melancholy pleasure to travel." My dear Cor- linna, what an expression J a pleasure to tra- vel J You might as well have said, D'abord ce n'est qu'un triste plaisir que de se faire ar- racher de dent However pleasant it might be to you to roil in your baronial travelling carriage from Geneva to Paris, to meet the incense of your adoring beaux esprits, I can assureyourillustrious shade, that the American stage coach is quite ano- ther affair. The very genius of inconvenience seems to have invented them, and to continue his ungracious assistance to arrange their evolutions. Misery 1st. Packing. 2. After a sleepless night of anxiety, on the eve of the fatal day, mixed with the interesting reflections-is every thing right in my valise 1— will Mary remember to wake me at four?—where did I pack mv shaving apparatus? &c.-you drep into a perturbed sleep, which in half an hour is broken by the appalling cry—" The stage is corns, Sir." You wake wish aching head and Ion spirits, and would give every thing in the world, except your already-paid passage money, to sleep till nine. 3. Getting into the coach in the dark, treading on the feet of the peevish, sleepy, occupants'—you are stuck upon the midst of the narrow, tottering', middle seat, with no back to lean against, and two or three trunks already in possession of the place destined for your legs. A sick child is awaked by your entree, and the mother opens on an octave higher than concert pitch, to drown his cries and aid in waking him thoroughly. After keeping you in this state half an hour, the coachman drives on, and you greeted with the muttered curse' of your opposite male fellow passenger, as you pItch against hi in and the whirming- I deal- ilie luddy mercy,' of the "LADIES" (to use the coach- man s hyperbolical compliment to the gingham drajied traveller), on whom in turn you recoil. 4 A breakfast at a poor tavern. Domestic coffee, sweetened with maple sugar, heavy, coarse bread—tough, cold ham. No napkins, no salt spoons, no egg cups, no toast, no nothing. You have now a view of your fellow passengers, who are to bear you company throughout a ""summer's day. And nrst of the I I laclievl -tile sick child's cross niothei-ared, fat, snuff-faced widow, and two old maids with faded silk gowns and gold necklaces. The men ignorant and presuming, wrangling about manufactures and politics, and treating their salivary glands to a profusion of to- bacco. You have a fine time to reflect on your folly in leaving the charming, cheerful breakfast at C 's. The strong, hot amber of the coffee, the light French rolls, the Vauxhall ham, and above all, the rosy, laughing girls, blooming and giggling from their morning slumbers, and full of the amusements and sports of the day—"long- ing, lingering, look behind." 5. As you are about to remount the mud-flecker- ed coach, you look with tardy prudence for your valise. Reineniber, at this convenient season, you forget it. You thus endure, like the man in the play, not only disgrace and inconvenience, but positive loss. Forced to open your heavy, large, close-packed trunk twenty times a day, for want of the valise as a thender, Your imagination dwelling on it with nervous tenacity. So neat avalise-so convenient-all my dressing articles —the very valise I had abroad-how could I lose my valise ?" &c. 6. A rough, stony road, wooden springs to the carriage, the horses as well as the driver in spirits, or deep clinging mud, lazy driver, and tired horses—long stages of 12 or 15 miles with a heavy load. 7. Wishing to make a cross-cut, you are told at the next village, you will certainly find horse. Arrive, and while seeking, the landlord, let the former stage drive off. Find out that there are no horses in. Perquisitions reluctantly and in- dolently made foryou at the doctor's, 'Squire L.'s, &c. unsuccessful, it being the landlord's interest to detain you, and then— 8. A day at a country tavern, no books, amuse- ments, or company. (See Washington Irving's Stout Gentleman.) No good wine—no agreeable prospect—no pleasant scenery—no pretty cham- bermaids. The day seems like a little eternity— Nothing there is to come, and nothing puss." 9. Arrived at your destination—hotel full—are corkscrewed up five pair of stairs to a little low, daik chamber, with two beds. The servant va- nishes under pretence of filling your dressing pitcher, but returns not-no bell-grope down to the bar—every one busy with the previous cus- tomers, in their new coats and smooth skins—bar- keeper, from your muddy travelling frock and long beard, takes you for your own servant, and minds nothing you say—dressing to go out—find that every thing yoirwant is precisely at the nadir of your trunk, which is not quite so handy as an elephant's—clothes full of wrinkles—cravats yel- low-quizzed by the native dandies in the read- ing and bar-rooms—nobody to whom you have cards at lioiiie-your banker in the country to stay a fortnight—little money and no credit-see a fine girl in the street—laughs at your yankee coat in- stead of falling in love with you, comme deraisoii —find the reverse of the proverb about a prophet in his own country true—treated rudely at the table d'hote—quarrel—no friend to take your note —make your dying arrangements—no friend to leave them with—bound over to keep the peace- no friend to be bail-get into the coach to return -every thing worse than before, because you have no curios'ty to gratify, and have tired your body and mind into a state of querulous despon- dence. Arrive at home and learn that in your absence your firm has failed, and your mistress married your rival. ODYSSEUS.

HINTS TO JUDGES. N THE Sermon which was preached at the Ca- thedral of York on Sunday week last, before the Judges of the Northern Circuit, by the Rev. Sydney Smith, has caused a good deal of con- versation. The following extracts ought to be I rung in the ears of our J udges at every Assize Se.inon. "A Christian Judge, in a free land, should with the most scrupulous, exactness, guard him- self liom the influence of those party feelings upon which, perhaps, the preservation of politi- cal liberty depends, but by which the better rea- son of individuals is often blinded, and the tran- quillity of the public disturbed. In a free land, he should not only keep his mind clear from the violence of party feeling, but he should be verv careful to preserve his independence, by seeking no promotion, and asking no favours from those who govern or, at least, .(which is an experi- ment not "without danger to his salvation) to be so thoroughly confident of his motives and his conduct, that he is certain the hope of favour to come, or gratitude for favour past, will never cause him to swerve from the strict line of duty. It is often the lot of the J udge to be placed, not only between the accuser and the accused, not only between the complainant and him against whom it is complained, but between the govern- ors & the governed, between the people and those w I I osel 'til commands the people are bound to obey. In these sort of contests it unfortunately happens that the rulers are sometimes as angry as the ruled the whole eyes of a nation are fixed upon one man, and upon his character and con- duct the stability and happiness of the times seems to depend. The best and firmest Magistrates C,1I1110t tell how they may act under such circum- stances, but every man may prepare himself for acting well under such circumstances, by che- i iriiuog that quiet feeling' of independence which removes every tempiaiion to act ill. Everyman may avoid putting himself in a situation where his hopes of advantage are on one side, and his sense'of duty on the other: such a temptation may be withstood, but it is better it should not be encountered. Far better that feeling which saYs, "1 have vowed a vow before God; I have put on. the robe of Justice; farewell avarice, farewell ambition: pass me who will, slight me who will, I live henceforward only for the great duties of life; my business is on earth, my hope I.. audmy reward are in God." There may be, there probably is in this Church, some young man who may hereafter fill the office of an English Judge, when the greater part of those who hear me are dead, and mingled with the dust of the grave. Let him remember my words, and let them torm and fashion his spirit; he cannot tell in what dangerous and awful times he may be placed; hut as a mariner looks to h;s compass in the cahn, and looks to his compass in the storm, and never keeps his eyes off his compass, so in every vi- cissitude of a judicial life, deciding for the people, deciding against the people, protecting the just • -glits of Kings, or restiaiiiing their unlawful ambition, let "him even cling to that pure, ex- alted, and christian independence, which towers over the little motives of life which no hope of favour can influence, which no effort of power can control. May I add the great importance in a udge, of courtesy to all men, and that he should, on all occasions, abstain from unnecessary bitterness and asperity of speech. A Judge al- ways speaks with impunity, and always with effect. His words should be weighed, because they entail no evil upon himself, and much evil upon others. The language of passion, the lan- guage of sarcasm, the language of satire is not, on such occasions, Christian language; it is not the language of a Judge. When Magistrates, under the mask of law, aim at the offender more the offence, and are more studious of in- flicting pain than repressing error or crime, the office suffers asjnueh as the Judge; the respect for justice is lessened and the school of pure reason becomes the hatred theatre of mischievous passion."