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The Halfax Free Press

15/10/1842

Printer / Publisher:  H Martin
Volume Number:     Issue Number: VII
No Pages: 4
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The Halfax Free Press

Date of Article: 15/10/1842
Printer / Publisher:  H Martin
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Volume Number:     Issue Number: VII
No Pages: 4
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THE HALIFAX OCTOBER 15, 1842. PRESS. No. VII. Price One Penny, And now the time in special is, by privilege, to write and speak what may help to the further discussing of matters in agitation. The Temple of Janus, with his two controversal faces, might now not insignificantly be set open : and though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play vpon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we d' injuriously, by licensing and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and falsehood grapple. Who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter. Her confuting is the best and surest suppressing.— MILTON'S AREOPAGITICA. ADYER TISEME N TS. SINOINO AT SIGHT— The public are respectfully informed that a Course of Three Lectures on VOCAL MUSIC, and the comparative merits of the different systems of teaching it, especially those of Mr. Hullah and Mr. Mainzer; will be de- livered by Mr. Oestreicher, of Halifax, in the Odd Fellows Hall, on Wednesday, October 19th, and the two succeeding • Wednesdays. Practical lessons will be introduced into each lt'cture ; and the audience may, if they choose, take a part in singing the exercises which will be placed before them. The ladies and gentlemen will, therefore, be requested to take different sides of the room ; the former the right hand, and the latter the left. Tickets for the Course, front seats 2s., back seats Is.; Single Tickets, front seats Is , backseats 6d. The Lectures will commence at Eight o'clock precisely, and conclude at hall- past Nine. No one will be admitted later than a quarter past Eight. Tickets may be had of Mr. Oestreicher, 16, Aked's Road ; of Mr. Pohlnoan, Music Seller, Woolshops; and of Mr. Birtwhistle, Bookseller, Northgate. MAimrAGE.- The prevention of Marriage, by the false standard of respectability which has been lately raised in this country, has been ttie source of unnumbered evils.— QI- ARTERLY REVIEW. A Committee of Gentlemen have treated with Mr. Mack- intosh, Lecturer on Geology, to deliver, in the Old Assembly Room, on the evening of Monday, October 17th, 1842, the LECTURE ON MARRIAGE which was received by such numer- ous audiences in Bradford, Huddersfield, Cleckheaton, 4ic. The object of the lecture will be to raise the subject of Marriage to a moral and intellectual basis, by defending its sacred dignity against the undermining influence of fashion- able literature, and the system of mainmon- worship which is perverting this country. Tickets, Sixpence each, may be had of the booksellers; and the proceeds, after defraying expenses, will be given to the funds of the Mechanics' Insti- tution. The lecture to commence at Eight o'clock precisely. THE ESSAYIST. SKIllCOAT MOOR. BY THE " KNIGHT OF SKIRCOAT MOOR." Readers,— As Knight of the Moor, lam desirous of doing you homage. My occupation, as one of the conductors of this periodical, is much unsuited to my name and dignity ; but the stream of time, which levels all distinctions, has washed away so many traces of my once proud station and domain, that I am now left, like a dried oak in the wilderness, with nothing but my name to mark the desolation that has befallen my family and race. tired in valour, I have been taught discretion ; and though my sires would have made the welkin ring with rage at the presumption of my colleagues in inviting my co- operation ; and would have cursed me bitterly for my weakness in yielding to the con- tamination of such society ; yet, for the present, I will lay aside my steed, my shield, and my spear ;, and take up my pen, in the hope of still benefiting man- kind, by exposing their wrongs, and redressing their grievances, in a more peaceful and less chivalric oc- cupation. If rude should be my words, and plaintive my speech, you cannot censure them : hut I will not fill the hearts of others with griefs they cannot miti- gate ; for, thank God, I no longer feel the pressure of my calamities. The loss of my privileges has long since melted the iron of my soul ; and, having buried the remembrance of them in their own deep grave, I now devote my energies to all that is good, generous, and free. Readers, there are few among you who have not heard of, or seen, the spot from which my title is de- rived; though, from the records of my house, that spot is now far different from its appearance in the days of yore. Then, indeed, it was an object of amazing interest; stretching out its ample sides, and presenting a vast platform whence might be seen the near and distant hills, with oaks and firs studdin| their massy brows, and conveying to the imagination a faint idea of the uneven surface of a mighty swelling sea. Ranging southward to the far- famed rocks, it opened to the wondering eye, nature's amphitheatre, — the spot where some magnificent pageant may have been witnessed by earth's population. Unobstructed by bank or bridge ; the stream ran murmuring through the vale; the willows outgrew the thicket, and bent their pale green branches to the wind. All was grandeur— sublimity. The dark trees of the hills saw the beauty, and whispered praise. Though despoiled of its former magnificence, I still love the Moor. I tread its green earth with almost reverential feelings ; and witness without pain the merry groups and sedater multitudes that there lesort for health and pleasure. Aye; many hearts have been gladdened at the sight, and lightened with the breeze which blows so refreshingly. The Londoners have their " parks ;" other towns their " forests" and their " greens ;" but few have a Moor with such pleasing adjuncts and associations as our own dear Common. Around our time honoured town, there are many spots of surpassing loveliness and powerful interest. Our lanes and our fields, our hills and our valleys, our woods and our streams, have all a kindly, friendly aspect; but no place gives such a free and hearty welcome as the Moor. There, rich and poor— well- clad and ill- clad, have equal right— equal liberty. The rich may roll over its surface in sumptuous- ness and ease ; and the gipsey may encamp beneath his time- dyed canvas ; both alike secure. No guards stop the vulgar, and let pass the vulgar- fine. No large, savage boards alarm the simple by admonishing them that there is " no road this way," or, that trespassers will be prosecuted." No I Were such things to be, my ancestors would rise from their graves, and, with withering scorn, blast the merciless in novators. At the bare thought of such an innovation, the blood of my progenitors so warms in my veins, and fires my imagination, that I could pour out boil- ing thoughts, and emit flaming, scorching words— but hold, my spirit! allay thine indignation— better de- signs are entertained— brighter prospects begin to appear through the vista of futurity. Touched with a feeling of compassion for the squalid poverty of their fellow- mortals, some of the conservators of the age, have it in contemplation to " level " the heath- clad Moor, and thus to afford sustenance to a starving population. May success attend their de- signs ! One thought still afflicts me ; and it is that a scheme so benevolent and just should remain so long in abeyance. For myself, Readers, I ask no justice. The sweet and fragrant heath that flourished gaily in its native soil— the fine green- tufted grass and the moss- covered stones, you have for ever buried beneath the dingy rubbish of your proud town ; but, for the sake of the pining poor, whose wants once found a full supply in our Abbeys and our Halls, lend your best endeavours to the praise- worthy and patriotic design of levelling the Moor. The plan will require money for its execu- tion— it will need to call out into active exercise public spirit; but in Halifax such a thing as public! spirit is not known. If you cry " Where art thou;" Echo only answers " Where?" This circumstance has oftentimes thrown a gloom over my feelings, and led me to indulge in despon- dency. Whether the rich, sympathizing with the calamities of the poor, will give from their abundance, and thus, in some small degree, relieve the wants of labour, and, at the same time, add greatly to the facilities of the people for agreeable recreation, remains to be tested. Cut whatever be the fate of the Moor, I, as the Knight, have done my duty. The Moor— the people's Com- mon— will ever be dear in my eyes, not so much from ancestral associations, as from the moral lessons it has taught me. It has taught, me to bear neglect with ( atience ; and to be satisfied with common, not vulgar, things— things equal, but not exclusive. I never look upon the wide- spread Moor but I re- flect upon the wide- spread blessings— the cheap and common enjoyments, scattered in such rich profusion by the common Parent of man ; and I grieve to think that the world should present so many instances of an unfraternizingspirit, existing in too large a number of the sons of humanity. I have learnt also that the choicest pleasures and the sweetest enjoyments which life affords, are shared in common. The honev- suckle and the wild rose give no exclusive fragrance— the blessed light,— the sunshine of heaven,— the green fields, with their lovely flowers— the varied trees with their luxuriant foliage, are all common objects of de- light— pleasures rich, cheap, free for all and denied to none. Come, then, thou lovely principle of expansive be- nevolence, shed abroad thy humanizing and soothing influences— infuse into the minds of those who have the means and the power, the wil! and the desire to remove the many nuisances that now annoy all who delight to taste the pleasures and inhale tbe refreshing breezes of the health- reviving Moor. ISAAC TOMKINS'S EFFUSIONS. To the Editors of the Free Press. GENTLEMEN,— I was not a little surprised, on Saturday morning last, at finding the walls of our town polluted by placards, advertising the publication of " a reply " to the infamous " Plug Plot." Iliad thought, after the second edition, enlaryed, had made its appearance, the public would become sensible of the worthlessness and paltry meanness of the thing,— for work it cannot be called, without committing a gross libel on the Queen's English. Tbe first edition, without the " enlargement," bore sufficient evidence of its being a mere catch- penny,— a concoction of gross personalities and poisonous slanders, strung together to benefit the pocket of a needy adventurer, too idle to work, too proud to beg, and too dishonest to starve ; but when I saw that another diseased bas- tard, evidently from the same reeking dunghill, had begun to send forth his pestiferous breath ; and when I found that this second abortion had become the suckled bantling of the people, I thought surely " The force of humbug can no further go." That the townspeople of Halifax should suffer them- selves to be ridden and spurred bv a metamorphosed ape, is bad enough ; but that they should thus them- selves raise the monkey- rider to his seat, and place the spurs upon his heels, is little better than a fool's act. If there were talent, or originality, or wit, or even a particle of common sense, in the " Plug Plot," it might be allowed to live, even if were only out of charity ; but it has none of these ; it is, indeed, " A tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." Where is its originality ? There is not a single idea that is not borrowed ; ptincipally from the " Sun," London newspaper, and the weekly publication " Punch," but partly from other sources that I could point out. Where is its wit ? We must look for this in its abuse of character, and in the ridicule which it attempts throw upon men pursuing more honourable callings than the writer of the " Plug Plot," with all his northern impudence, can pretend to ;— we must look for it in the poisoned shaft, hurl'd, with fiendish delight, at the reputation of a family already borne down by affliction's iron hand, and still mourning over the uninterred remains of a rela- tion near and dear to them. O ! shame, where is thy blush ? Had I time, or did I think him worth the trouble of a criticism, I could show that " Isaac Tomkins " acted foolishly when he threw away the tea- pack, to take up the goose quill. Such twaddle as he has had rr'ssl* S THE HALIFAX FREE PRESS. 3 the brazen. faced audacity to offer to an insulted public, might pass off very well if buzzed into the ears of a half- deaf, tea- drinking, scandal- dealing old woman ; or it might, perhaps, raise a laugh, if given forth amiia circle of " Chaw- bacons," assembled round " TV funny Scotchman," in the kitchen of some way- side inn; but this is the extent of its excellence. And yet how the knave exults in his fancied cleverness 1 Only think! to be a real author '. Flesh and blood can't stand it. Look at him as he struts before the admiring gaze of the public. " How imagination blows him !" Self- importance makes " arare turkey- cock" of him 1 The very hair of his sapient bead, like a broom in a fit, stands on an end, as if conscious that it covered a skull of no ordinary— thickness. Alas poor " Neddy," I know thee'well! and as " a little learning is a dangerous thing," I would advise thee to master words of one syllable, and to study the abridgement of Murray's English grammar, if it he only to save thy publisher the trouble, and thyself the shame, of correction. Prythee, throw away the author's garb, and " Hang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs." In conclusion, do not let thy " itching palm," which thou hast in common with many of thy countrymen, lead thee to practice too much on the good- nature of thy neighbours, lest the rod be applied to its proper use, viz. the tickling of the fool's back. I have now, Messrs. Editors, to apologize for trespassing so much upon your time and upon that of the public, and to beg that you will " In mercy spare us, if we do our best, To make as much waste paper as the rest." I am, * Yours most respectfully, A SPECIAL. MR. STURGE IN HALIFAX. To the Editors of the Free Press. GENTLEMEN,— The stormy sea of politics has long been agitated by adverse winds ; but it is a common remark that " after a storm cometh a calm ;" and it is pleasing to cast the eye on the mighty ocean, or to view a beautiful landscape, when the storm is hushed, and the hurricane has ceased ; because, then, animate and inanimate nature resume their wonted channels. As it is in the natural world, so it is in the political; and it is no less cheering to the mind of him who loves his country and admires her institutions, to witness a ray of hope, which may occasionally cross the dark and portentous horizon of his native country; and hence I can greatly rejoice at the movement for Complete Suffrage, at the head of which is Mr. Joseph Sturge, a man who is eminently calculated to lead the public mind into peaceful and legitimate agitation, for the attainment of great political reforms. I was present ( though uninvited) at the meeting called to receive Mr. Sturge, at the Temperance Hotel, in this town, to hear his views, and to answer objections; and I never attended a more agreeable meeting on any occasion. He occupied between two and three hours in explaining, in the most lucid manner, the peaceful, proper, and effective principles contained in the document entitled " the people'! charter," to which the persons present generally responded. I know that your space is very limited, or I would have enlarged; but this is the less needed, as a committee was appointed for the purpose of attempting to unite the middle and working classes, to obtain such a representation of the people as will secure peace to the cottage, stability to the throne, and trade and commerce to the people at large. The committee have not as yet made their plans known to the public. I hope they will not allow of its dying i their hands. Mr. Sturge concluded a very convincing address, by reading a circular addressed to the electors in the town of Kettering, by the Complete Suffrage Association of that place; andl think it quite as proper when offered to the electors of Halifax, and will thank you to insert the following extract:— " In this town ( Kettering) there are about 130 men who have a voice in the selection of parliamentary representatives; and about 829 who have not. Respectfully, but firmly, we ask y « u, whether it be right that the 130 should have a share in the appoint- ment of the law- makers, and that 829 of their fellow- townsmen should have no right but that of petitioning the legislators whom the 130 help to appoint. With all the earnestness of men conscious of being wronged, we inquire on what ground you seek to perpetuate this wide, anti- social, unkind, and oppressive distinc- tion ? Will you assume that the 130 have risen to such a pre- eminence in knowledge and virtue, as qualifies them for a political right, which we are too stupid, or too wicked to exercise ? Do you believe that the 130 are so much better members of society than the 829, as to justify you in maintaining the position of rulers, for such you actually are; and holding us in subjection, for this you really do ? Do you imagine that good government is of more importance to you and your families, than to the 829 and their children ? Can yon suppose that the peace and safety of society wonld be endangered, if the 829 were to have votes ? If so, we tell you, with grea' aspect, blended, however, with some indignation, that yon are accusing 829 of j'our fellow- townsmen falsely. Have they not lived many years around the scenes of your own abode, united with you in the intercourse of life, lifted up their voices with yours for the libera- tion of the slaves, met with you in the house of prayer, and contributed, together with you, to every scheme for the amelioration of mankind ? That there may be among them, as among you, some who are neither wise nor virtuous, is too true ; but can you turn to the 829 of your neighbours, and pretend that you, as a bodj', are trust- worthy, and that they, as a body, are not trust- worthy ?" Let the Electors of Halifax read and ponder the above questions; and if they think they can answer them, let them do so. I will thank you to give insertion to this letter, in the next impression of the " Free Press," if free it is and you will oblige A RADICAL OF THE OLD SCHOOL. Halifax, Oct. 5, 1842. EXERCISES, REVIEWS, AND ACTION. LETTER IV. DISTRESS OP THE COUNTRY. To the Editors of the Halifax Free Press. GENTLEMEN,— For many months past the papers have been filled with fearful statements of the distress of the country ;— public meetings have been held, to take the subject into consideration,— local subscrip- tions have been entered into to alleviate the distress,— deputations have waited upon the ministers to re- present the appalling nature of the evil,— motions have been made on the subject, and long speeches delivered by hon. and right lion, gentlemen, and noble lords, in both Houses of Parliament. And what has been the result ? That from the working class large numbers of our fellow- countrymen have sunk into the grave from actual starvation— thousands have dragged on a miserable existence in the midst of hunger, cold, and disease, which have rendered life not worth possessing. In the middle class, bankruptcy and insolvency have been the fate of shopkeepers, dealers, manufacturers, and merchants. Your readers will recollect that, for some time after Sir R. Peel and the Duke of Wellington took office, they denied the existence of the distress ! Yes, at the very time when 7,000 persons in Paisley ( a number which was afterwards increased to 17,000), were reduced to subsist on a penny a day, did the Premier of England and the military chieftain who was associated with him, deny the existence of the distress ! Why, were there no other crime ( for it is nothing less than a crime), of which they were guilty than this, it is a sufficient evidence of their utter unfitness to hold office and retain the destinies of the nation in their hands. Either they knew of the distress or they did not know of it. If they did not know of it, then they stand convicted of ignorance too gross to justify them in retaining office for a single day; and if they did know of its existence, but denied it, their insincerity and duplicity are disqualifi- cations equally great. But they did retain office, and in process of time the proofs of the distress were too obvious for their obtuseness to be blind to, or for their effrontery to deny. And then what ? Did they do any thing in tin world to investigate the cause of the distress, that the cause being removed the effect might cease ? No, no ; to ascertain causes, either remote or proximate, forms no part of their statesmanship, nor to calculate effects: they are ever blind to causes, and blind to effects until they arrive. When wiser men than them- selves pointed out the causes of the evil— pointed to what results must follow, they were unheeded, scoffed at, or opposed. Three times by the ignorance or ob- stinacy of these men have the three kingdoms been brought to the verge of civil war— might I not say to state of actual civil war, before the required conces sions were made. Once was Ireland in such an attitude that the Duke acknowledged himself compelled to yield that which the principles of eternal justice should have taught him never to withold for a moment, the emancipation of our Catholic brethren. A second time, and England and Scotland were the scenes of social disorganization. In the rural districts, Swing illuminated the midnight skies with the blaze of tli corn stacks. In the towns, Nottingham and Bristol gave ample proofs that order and government were at an end ; and in the metropolis royalty itself was no longer safe :— It was acknowledged by the ministers ( our present heaven- borns) unsafe for his late Majesty to visit the city ! And why ? Because they— Peel and Wellington had determined there should be no Parliamentary Reform! But the people of England had decided otherwise; nor could the duplicity, cunning, and tact of Peel, nor the stubbornness of the soldier, prevent. A third time is the country brought into a state of civil warfare ; the great, populous, in- dustrious, and once wealthy counties of Lancaster and York are reduced to such a state, that it lias been ne- cessary to introduce martial law 1 And why ? Be- cause the subtle Peel and the stern Wellington have said the people shall not have food. Though the op- posite shores may teem with abundance, though the storehouses of Liverpool and Hull may be filled to overflowing, yet shall it be denied to the people to purchase food, except under a heavy penalty I A few men who hold the land plundered from our ancestors, plundered from our churches and religious houses,, plundered from the poor— land to which they have no titles except those of force and fraud, insist on a starvingpeople purchasing their scanty supply of food exclusively from them, in order that theseland- stealers may have more money to expend in gambling and horse- racing, on black- legs and opera- dancers. And are Peel and Wellington so besotted as to imagine they can perpetuate the injustice ? No ; they may erect barracks after barracks, they may add regiment to regiment, they may call hunger insurrection, and impatience for food, sedition; they may immure some in dungeons, and send some to the hulks; the riot act may he read, aud public meetings suppressed; some may be sabred, and some shot with muskets, but they will find it impossible to perpetuate that in- iquity of iniquities, the HONGER- LAW. If the dis- union of the Houses of York and Lancaster, served for so many years to deluge England with blood— the peaceful union of York and Lancaster will be too powerful for these rulers, who have already twice re- sisted and twice found it necessary to submit to the mighty will of their countrymen. Twelve years ago the distinguished author of the Exercises treated on this very subject of distress with his usual felicity of manner. And liovv exactly did he point out in 183C the course which the petty statesmen whom we have in 1842 adopt on such occasions. Could any thing be drawn more to the life than what follows :—• When some people protest there is a distress, and others that there is not a distress, the natural solution cf the difficulty is, that some are distressed and others are in no distress at all. And it seems to be capable of proof, that such a distress as ttiis, is all this distressful world is capable of. To demand that before the existence of distress was admitted, it should be proved that the king upon the throne was suffering extremity for want of nourishing food, or an archbishop was confined to his room by toe consequences of a long course of oatmeal- porridge, would be manifestly outrageous and absurd. And by parity of reasoning, dukes, earls, viscounts, and so on to any extent down the ladder of honour in the Red Book, may by possibility be in no state of suffering, and still there may be a ' distress' in the only sense in which in the nature of things it can exist. To demand therefore that a distress shall be universal, is like demanding that there shall be held to be no plague unless everybody has died of it. And to doubt or demur as to the existence of the evil upon such a ground, would be as un- reasonable in one case as in the other. " Next to the plea « f the rum- universality of tiiedistress, eomes the plea of its being temporary, founded on the fact that a distress, like an ague, has its periods of intermission and exacerbation. The mere connexion of human affairs with the seasons of the year, with seed time and harvest, with fair weather and foul, with passable roads and impas- sable, with fine working weather and weather when no man can work, is enough to establish a variation in the feel- ing of distress, a frying pan andjire kind of difference, which may be easily represented by the interested, as a reason for postponing or omitting the consideration of the mischief. As has been stated, most probably with accurate knowledge of the fact, by Mr. Sadler,— it is as impossible that the return of spring should not bring with it a degree of comparative relief, as that it should not produce a single bud or blade of grass. By the time, therefore, that the present article has a chance of being before the public, the cry will very pro- bably have been raised, that the distress is over. If so, all that can be said is, that it will be ready for che next* ' Long live the Sultan Mafimoud," said the marrying owl, * for theie will be no want of ruined villages.' If our rural Sultans continue in their present mind, there will be no fear of wanting a distress to write about." Yes; it is ready for the existing distress, and the Colonel was quite right in saying " there need be no fear of wanting a distress to write about." It will be acknowledged too that on each return of distress it increases in severity, for certainly no previous periodical distress, which is either in the recollection of the oldest of us, or on record, equals the present either in point of severity or duration. And are we to go on submitting to the ignorance and insolence of these men until a period of distress shall arrive which shall be irremediable, and " one involving ruin swallow all ?" " Forbid it justice, and forbid it Heaven"— and let us forbid it ourselves by taking every legal and constitutional means for shaking off these ministers of darkness. The author's allusion to the Sultan Mahmoud, the owl, and the ruined villages, is happy ; the tale will be found in the Spectator, though most of us have recollections of seeing it in our school- hoy days in Enfield's Speaker, I return to the Colonel's admi THE HALIFAX FREE PRESS. 3 rable charge on the rural Sultans— the distress" makers. '* One way of knowing whether there is a distress, Is to find out whether proper steps are taken for making one. Suppose then, that the country, by conquest or otherwise, had fallen into the hands of rulers possessed of irresistible power, who for the gratification of political jealousy or some unassigned motive, were bent on raising up the greatest practicable quantity of distress within the limits of their dominion. And do not let it be supposed, that they are vulgar mischief makers, whose ideas of evil are limited to brute and mechanical violence ; but people of some cunning in their vocation, able to foresee the dangers connected with making themselves the direct distributors of suffering, and to calculate the vast advantage of persuading one man to in- flict it on another. Suppose then such rulers, acting by the Instigation of the devil, as the lawyers say who, know,— or any other instigation that may suit; and ask whether a committee in Pandemonium could favour them with a better recipe than this." He then proceeds to show the sort of statesmanship, if statesmanship it can be called ( necromancy or leger- demain would be a more appropriate term), which must necessarily bring on distress. The description of the mode of action certain to produce national distress, is admirably and most strikingly executed ; and well worth perusing. I regret that your limits preclude ine from quoting it entire. Those of your readers who have the means of referring to the volume itself ( vol. i. 279) will find the description correspond in every respect with the course which has been pursued by our governors. The way in which the distress exemplifies itself, is also to the letter. " You will see that the operatives,— whom perhaps you thought invulnerable and past your reach,— will be the first that will begin to complain they cannot live. And next you wlil see the complaints extend themselves upwards, and up- wards, and upwards,— not exactly in the shape of want of bread, but in the shape of the discovery that every body, except you and your particulars, who are living on the taxes and take care that your shares of them shall be such as to make you always comfortable,— is unable to live as he used to do, and is therefore comparatively distressed. Nothing can be more curious, to anybody who has a taste for this kind of thing, than to witness the different features of the process. Some curse, some swear,— some turn heathens, some religious,— some try resistance, some die drinking the king's health in pump water;— but the greatest part will redouble their eagerness to make something by their neighbour's loss, and come to you for the means of carrying it into effect. Aud here you must act like a good commander, and make the war feed the war. As long as you can deny or evade the acknowledgement of the distress it is perhaps best to do so; it is so much ground in reserve. The distress will fluctuate; therefore when it is worst, say it will only be temporary; and when it is better, say that it is gone. IfEj ou can find anybody that is worse off than his neighbours, you may say the distress is partial. Gain time in this n ay as long as you can. But when all this can be done no longer, the pretty play is, to make the distress contribute to its own support. There will probably be somebody, who will call out for the removal, or at least the relaxation, of your system. Lay hold of this, and use it like wise men. Point to the loss that would follow to the trader who should lose his monopoly; but say nothing of the gain that would arise to the trader in favour of whom it should be opened, nor to the consumer who would gain the difference of price. Appeal to meu'- s humanity whether the first should be allowed; but say nothing of the conscquences of the other two. Talk loudly of the cruelty of cheap- ness, and the hard- heartedness of allowing men to buy at the iowebt market, and you will be astonished to see what a multitude will run after you. Advance stoutly, that high prices of everything are what make all men rich ; and a good half of the nation will follow you, as if you were the bottle- conjurer. If you have been brought up in that line, quote scripture; but, for the House of Commons, Virgil will do as well. When you attack Malthus, attribute to him every thing he has never said, and omit all he has; it has been long approved the best mode of confutation. Encour- age poetry; because poetry is fiction, and fiction is what is not true. Besides, the things most immediately dangerous to you, are generally said in prose." 1 will not spoil the eflect by any comment. If the readers feel as 1 feel, the use they will make of these truths will he, to devote themselves to the removal of men who thus trifle with the best interests of the nation, and who stand in the way of those reforms which alone can save use from utter ruin. I am, & c. COADJUTOR. CALENDAR FOR THE WEEK. PROPOSED SCHOOL OF DESIGN IN HALIFAX. To the Editors of the Free Press. GENTLEMEN,— The usual time for the nnnual meet- ing of the Mechanics' Institution is close at hand ; and I shall be much obliged to you, or any of your correspondents, for a little information respecting the Proposed School of Design, about which so much was said at the last annual meeting, by our worthy and intelligent Vice- President, Dr. Win, Alexande I understand that the Directors memorialized the Government for a grant out of the money voted by the House of Commons ; and I have been anxiously expecting to hear something more of so praiseworthy and excellent an object. I hope it will not be allowed to die away; but that the Directors will be able to give some satisfactory reason for the delay that has taken place. I am, Gentlemen, " Vours obediently, A MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTION. Halifax, Sept. 19, 1842. OCTOBER 16th, SUNDAY. Twenty- first Sunday after Trinity. Battle of Leipsic, 1813. Earthquake at Lisbon, 1796. Mrs. Garrick died, 1822. The widow of Garrick was in her hundredth year; and such was the state of her health and spirits, that she was making arrange- ments to be present at the re- opening of Drury- lane Theatre, when death summoned her to a more solemn scene. Latimer and Ridliy burnt, at Oxford, 1555. See mitred Hidley bold in death See Latimer augment the glorious band. Sir Philip Sidney died, 1586. Sidney, than whom no gentler, braver man, His own delightful genius ever feigned, Illustrating the vales of Arcady With courteous courage, and with loyal loves. SOUTHEY. 17th, MONDAY. Saint Etheldreda. She was daughter of Annas and Hereswitha, King and Queen of the East Angles, and was born about the year 630, at Ixning, in Suffolk. She resolved to remain single ; but, at the earnest solicitation of her parents, she married, in 652, Tonbert, a principal nobleman among the East Angles, and had the Isle of Ely settled on her as dower : yet she retained her vow, and is spoken of, in the Romish breviaries, as " twice a widow, and always a virgin." Her husband died in about three years, and she retired to the Isle of Ely, to give her- self up to acts of devotion ; but she did not live long in this recluse state. After much persuasion from King Ethclwolf, she was married, at York, to Prince Egfrid, who was about 15 or 16 years old. In 670, Oswy, the father of Egfrid, died; and Etheldreda became the Queen of the greatest of the Saxon Kings. Her exalted station, however, made no change in her sentiments; and she solicited from her husband permission to retire to a monastery. Wearied with her importunities, he granted her request; and she took the veil at Coldingluun Abbey, in Yorkshire, over which Ebba, the King's aunt, presided as abbess. After some time, Egfrid was advised to take his wife, by force, from this retirement; but she was informed of it, and fled to the Isle of Ely, where, in 673, she founded the conventual church of Ely, with the [ adjoining convent. She endowed it with the whole island, and was herself the first abbess. It flourished for nearly 200 years, and was destroyed with its inhabitants, by the Danes, in 870. By ab- breviation, the name of this saint became corrupted to Auldrey and Audrey. The word tawdry,— denoting something more gaudy than valuable, comes from St. Audrey ; and an old historian states that she died " of a swelling in her throat, which she considered as a particular judgment, for having been, in her youth, much addicted to wearing fine necklaces." John Wilkes born, 1727. Fondicherry taken, 1778, In the bresvhouse of H. Menx, London, two beer vats burst suddenly, with a tremenduous crash, des- troying several houses : some lives were lost, and the loss of property was estimated at 9000 barrels of beer ; 1814. I'hilippa, the Queen Regent, gained a signal victory over David Brucc, at Neville's Cross, in the county of Durham, 1347. 18th, TUESDAY. Saint Luke. The " beloved physician,"— as his companion, the Apostle Paul, calls him,— was born at Antiocli; he died, unmarried, about the year 70, and in the 84th year of his age. He wrote the gospel known by his name; and Philostorgius informs us that, in the reign of the Emperor Constantius, his relics were transferred from Achaia to Constantinople. Fox- hunting begins. Captain Ross returned from a polar expedition, and landed at Hull, after an absence of four years, 1833. Quarter Sessions held this week. King John died, 1216. 19th, WEDNESDAY. Leeds Fair. Swift died, 1745. Talma, the French actor, died, 1826. He was the reformer of the costume of the French stage ; and introduced Brutus to his audience in a Roma toga, instead of the full- dress of Parisian fashion. Leeds and Liverpool Canal opened, 1816. 20th, THURSDAY. Sir Christopher Wren born, 1632. Battle of Navarino, 1827. George I. crowned, 1714. On this day, in the year 1532, Henry VIII. of England, and Francis I. of France, met in a valley between Calais and Boulogne. From the 20th to the 25th, Francis entertained Henry at Boulogne; and from the 25th to the 30th, Henry entertained Francis at Calais, which, on this occasion, provided no fewer than two thousand four hundred beds, with stallin for two thousand horses. Storms and contrary winds detained Henry and his suite at Calais till the 13th of November, when he took ship, at midnight, and landed at Dover the next morning. The highest flood, on record, in the river Aire, on this and the succeeding day, 1775. 21st, FRIDAY. Smollett died, 1771. Battle of Trafalgar, and death of Nelson, 1805. " The death of Nelson," says Southey, " was felt in England, as something more than a public calamity. Men started at the intelligence, and turned pale, as if they had heard of the loss of a dear friend. An' object of our admiration and affection,— of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us ; and it seemed as if we had never, till then, known bow deeply we loved and reverenced him. What the country had lost in its great naval hero,— the greatest of our own aud of all former times, was scarcely taken into the account of grief. So perfectly, indeed, had he performed his part, that the maritime war, after the battle of Trafalgar, tvas considered at an end. The fleets of the enemy were not merely defeated, but destroyed. New navies must be built, and a new race of seamen reared for them, before the possibility of their invading our shores could again be contem- plated. It was not, therefore, from any selfish re- flection upon the magnitude of our loss that we mourned for him. The general sorrow was of a higher character. The people of England grieved that funeral ceremonies, public monuments, and post- humous rewards, were all which they could now bestow upon him, whom the king, the legislature, and the nation, would alike have delighted to honour; whom every tongue would have blessed; whose presence, in every village through which he might have passed, would have wakened the church bells, have given schoolboys a holiday, have drawn children from their sports to gaze upon him, and old men from the chimney- corner, to look upon Nelson, ere they died." This is, no doubt, a correct descrip- tion of the state of feeling produced by the death of Nelson,— a hero, indeed; but partaking more of the qualities of the bull- dog, than of the virtues of humanity; and living in open, unblushing defiance of the laws of decent morality. The time will come when the applause of nations will be more worthily be- stowed ; and we cite, with gratification, the creditable language of Sir Robert Peel:—" I do hope that one great and most bcneficial effect of the advance of civilization, the diffusion of knowledge, and the ex- tension of commerce, will be, the reducing, within their proper dimensions, of the fame, and the merit, and the reward, of military achievements; and that just notions of the moral dignity of, and the moral obligation due to, those who apply themselves to preserve peace, and to avoid the eclat of war, will be the consequence," 22d, SATURDAY. Lord Holland died, 1840. Sir Cloudesley Shovel lost, 1705. Saint Domingo given up, 1803. THE SAME THING.—" I beg your pardon," said Mr. R. to a gentleman in St. Jam es's- street, " are you not Mr. Gordon ?"—" No," replied the gentle- man, " but my brother went to school with him." A HINT.— When you write to a fiiendto request an answer which is to your interest only, inclose a postage stamp. MAN'S ATTEMPTS TO FLY.— Birds fly with such apparent ease, that man has often thought he could imitate them; and, clothing himself with wings of the best construction, has attempted to mount the subtle element. The effort has always ended in dis- aster and disgrace. Wings are not the only requisites to make man a flyer. He must have muscles equal to those of the bird ; his spine must be very differently- constructed ; and he must have a breathingapparatus far more adapted to flight than that he now possesses. In all these respects, birds differ very materially from man ; and He who gave them wings, gave them also an organization fitted for their use. It must be re- membered, too, that the wings of the bird are alive — each joint and each feather acts in unbidden har- mony with the rest; and a buoyancy of motion is effected, which it would be impossible for man to imitate. GEOLOGY.— Geological researches bring a man into almost constant intercourse with the most astonishing and sublime of nature's productions. Now, he pene- trates the deep and dark cavern, studded with sparry wonders, and perhaps the charnel- house of the ante- diluvian world. Now, be urges his way through the rugged mountain gorge, where over his head hang the jutting rocks, just ready, apparently, to crush him. Anon, he climbs the lofty precipices; and, as he looks down into the yawning gulf beneath, what creeping of nerves,— what thrilling emotions of wonder and sublimity, does he expeiience ! Again, he gazes with awe upon the mighty cataract, whose deafen ing roar drowns his voice. Does he open the solid rocks ? What amazing records of past existence, and of God's vast plans, are brought to view I In short, he is every where in inevitable contact with the most unequivocal displays of God which creation can furnish,— Professor Hitchcock. 4 THE HALIFAX FREE PRESS. POETRY. ORIGINAL. ( FOB THE HALIFAX FREE PRESS.) A FABLE, VERSIFIED FROM JESOP. BY THOMAS CROSSLEY. Mercury, ' tis said, descending from the skies, To see how he was valued among men, Once took the human shape, and, in disguise, He then, ( Sans ceremonie,) straight did pop Into a carver's well- stor'd shop, Where effigies were ranged to tempt the eye Of connoiseurs, or such as chose to buy. Pray what's your price for this ? our hero cried, ( Pointing to Jupiter,) a groat replied The effigy's creator: And Juno there,— the price of her ?— Why something more than Jupiter. And what's, I pray, the price of him With beaming eye, and pinions all so trim, Who stands so nobly on yon upper shelf ? Said Mercury, nodding at himself', Than these, thought he, my price is vastly greater. Of him, the artist cried, we'll make no stir, In value he no mighty weight is, So if you'll buy Juno and Jupiter, That you may take, and welcome,— gratis ! Ovenden, near Halifax. " SELECTEDT AN INSCRIPTION FOR THE TEMPLE AT THE WHITE SULPHUR SPRINGS. BV LORD MORPETH. Hail, Dome, whose unpresuming circle guards Virginia's flowing fountain ! Still may health Hover above thy crystal urn, and bring To cheeks, unus'd, their bloom ! May beauty still Sit on thy billowy swell of wooded hills And deep ravines of verdure! May the axe. Improvement's necessary pioneer Mid forest solitudes, still gently prune, Not bare, their leafy bowers ! This votive lay, Like wreath of old on thy white columns hung. Albeit of scentless flowers from foreign soil. Scorn not, and bid the pilgrim pass in peace ! U. S„ May, 1842. SCOTTISH NOTION OF A BISHOP. ( From the Edinburgh Review.) The notion entertained of a Bishop, in our anti- episcopal latitudes, is likely enough, we admit, not to he altogether just:— and we are far from upholding it as correct, when we say that a Bishop, among us, is generally supposed to be a stately and pompous person, clothed in purple and fine linen, and faring sumptuously every day ;— somewhat obsequious to persons in power, and somewhat haughty and imper- ative to those who are beneath him;— with more authority in his tone and manner, than solidity in his learning; and yet with much more learning than charity or humility;— very fond of being called my Lord, and driving about in a coach with mitres on the panels ; but little addicted to visiting the sick aud fatherless, or earning for himself the blessing of those who are ready to perish ; — Familiar with a round Of ladyships,— a stranger to tiie poor ; — decorous in manners, but no foe to luxurious indul- gences;— rigid in maintaining discipline among his immediate dependents, and in exacting the homage due to his dignity from the undignified mob of his brethren ; but perfectly willing to leave to them the undivided privileges of comforting and of teaching their people, and of soothing the sins and sorrows of their erring flocks;— scornful, if not openly hostile, upon all occasions, to the claims of the people, from whom he is generally sprung ;— and presuming every thing in favour of the royal will and prerogative, by which he has been exalted ;— setting, indeed, in all cases, a much higher value on the privileges of the few, than the rights that are common to all; and exerting himself strenuously that the former may ever prevail ;— caring more, accordingly, for the interests of his order, than the general good of the church ; and far more for the clmrch, than for the religion it was established to teach ;— hating dissen- ters still more bitterly than infidels ; but combating both rather with obloquy and invocation of civil penalties, than with the artillery of a powerful reason, or the reconciling influences of an humble and holy life;— uttering, now and then, haughty professions of humility; and regularly bewailing, at fit seasons, the severity of those Episcopal labours, which sadden, and even threaten to abridge, a life which, to all other eyes, appears to flow on in almost unbroken leisure and continued indulgence. This, or something like this, we take to be the notion that most of us Presbyterians have been used to entertain of a modern Bishop : and it is mainly because they believed that the rank and opulence which the station implied, were likely to realize this character in those who should be placed in it, that our ancestors contended so strenuously for the abro- gation of the order; and thought their Reformation incomplete till it was finally put down,— till all the ministers of the Gospel were truly pastors of souls, and stood in no other relation to each other than as fellow labourers in the same vineyard, OUR SCRAP BOOK. " A thing of Shreds and Patches." TIIE INFLUENCE OF ART ACKNOWLEDGED.— The Princess Charlotte, when very young, was taken to an exhibition of paintings, in which a drawing by Mr. Holmes, called " the bad shilling," attracted her notice- A butcher at the door of his shop, is scrupulously examiningthe coin, while a poor woman, with an ir. funt in her arms, is anxiously waiting the result. A case of want and misery thus poiirtrayed, was instantly recognised by the royal child, and she immediately expressed a desire to possess the picture. How, it may be asked, could want and poverty be brought home to the feelings of the exalted in station, more effectually than by this graphic appeal ? PDLFIT ELOQUENCE — True eloquence is not, as some suppose, to be judged of by excitement, but rather by impression. Thepreacher is persuaded that no kind of eloquence will ever, much or long, tell in the pulpit, but that which arises from feeling ; but feeling is always eloquent. Little is to be done by fine words, and made- up gestures, and studied action, and start and stare theatric.— Jay. Our school- boy days are looked back to by all with fondness. Oppressed with the cares of life, we con- trast our worn and harassed existence, with that sweet prime, free from anxiety, and fragrant with innocence.— D'luraeli the Younger. THE CRESTS OF BIRDS.— The heads of some species of birds are ornamented with crests, the use of which is not always very apparent, unless they be consider- ed as marks of distinction given, almost exclusively, to the males. Swainson, in his work on the " Natu- ral History and Classification of Birds," suggests that, in some cases, these ornaments may serve as means of defence. He says, " to explain this novel asser- tion, we can safely say that many are the beautiful crested woodpeckers of the Brazilian forests, which have scared us from a steady aim of our gun, by the sudden manner in which they threw up their crests, the moment they discovered their danger; uttering, at the same time, aloud and discordant scream. The sensation, it is true, lasts but for a moment; but the whole is so sudden and unexpected, that the sports- man is involuntarily startled ; and this momentary feeling gives time for the bird to dart among the thick foliage of the forest, and thus effect its escape. The crest of a bird is always erected under a sense of danger or of anger, as every body knows who has seen a cockatoo ; so that it has obviously been intended by nature to perform the office of intimidating, however momentarily, the foes of its possessor." This is in- genious ; and that, under some circumstances, the sudden erection of a crest may act as a defence, is not very improbable: yet the unsteadiness of Mr. Swainson's gun was far more likely to be produced by the " loud and discordant scream," suddenly uttered, than bv the elevation of the crest of the woodpcclier. In conversation, the sublime Dante was taciturn or satirical; Butler was sullen or caustic; Gray and Alfieri seldom talked or smiled; Descartes, whose habits had formed him for solitude and meditation, was silent ; Rousseau was remarkably trite in con- versation ; not an idea, not a wor 1 of fancy or elo- quence, warmed bitn ; Addison and Moliere were only observers in society ; and Dryden has very honestly told us, " my conversation is slow and dull, my humour saturnine and reserved ; in short, I am none of those who endeavour to break jests in company, or make repartees." A young lady, in one of our stage- coaches, before railroads were dreamed of, was not content with reading Shakespeare herself; but she insisted upon exacting from all her fellow- travellers, approbation for her poet and his dramas, nearly as fervent as her own. There sat an old gentleman in one corner, out of whom she could get nothing by intiendoes, until at last she bluntly demanded what his opinion was about plays. Roused by so pointed an interrogation, his answer is recorded to have been as follows:— " Madam, I know and care little about any dramas except two, both of which possess at least a title in the. pages of your favourite author. One I see acted every day of my life,—" Much ado about nothing ;" the other I hope to see performed on my death, bed,— " Alls well that ends well 1" THE LION AND THE GIRAFFE.—( From Moffat1 Scenes in Southern Africa.)— On our route homeward we halted at a spot where a novel scene once occurred, and which was described by an individual who wit- nessed it when a boy.— Near a very small fountain, which was shown to me, stood a camel thorn- tree ( Acacia Giraffe.) It is a stiff tree, about twelve feet high, with a flat, bushy top. Many years ago, the relater, then a boy was returning to his village, aud having turned aside, to the fountain for a drink, lay down on the bank, and fell asleep. Being awoke by the piercing rays of the sun, he saw, through the bush behind which he lay, a giraffe browsing at ease on the tender shoots of the tree, and, to his horror, a lion, creeping like a cat, only a dozen yards from him, pre paring to pounce on his prey. The lion eyed the giraffe for a few moments, his body gave a shake, and he bounded into the air, to seize the head of the animal, which instantly turr. ed his stately neck, and the lion missing his grasp, fell on his back in the centre of the mass of thorns, like spikes, and the giraffe bounded over the plain. The boy instantly followed his example, expecting, as a matter of course, that the enraged lion would soon find his way to the earth. Some time afterwards, the people of the village, who seldom visited the spot, saw the eagles hovering in the air; and as it is almost a certain sign that the lion lias killed game, or some other animal is lying dead, they went to the place, and sought in vain, till coming under the lee of the tree, their olfactory nerves directed them to where the lion lay dead in his thorny bed. I still found some of the bones under the tree, andhair on its branches to con- vince me of what I scarcely could have credited. The lion will sometimes manage to mount the back of a giraffe, and, fixing his sharp claws into each shoulder, gnaw away till he reaches the vertebrae of the neck, when both fall ; and ofttimes the lion is lamed for his trouble. If the giraffe happens to be very strong, he succeeds in bringing his rider to the ground. Among those that we shot on onrjourney, the healed wounds of the lion's claws on the shoulder, and marks of his teeth on the back of the neck, gave us ocular demonstration that two of them had carried the monarch of the forest on their backs, and yet come off triumphant. OUR CHATTER BOX. Under this head we propose to indulge occasionally in frea chit- chat with our readers and correspondents. We shall, also, give brief notices of the topics of such communications as are either unworthy of a place in " Our Letter Box," or may, from the nature of their subjects, be conveniently stated, in a brief paragraph. Our usual notices to corres- pondents will, also, be included under this head. SINGING FOR THE MILLION.— A letter from " A Friend to Civilization," contains a request that we will giye every possible encouragement to the promotion of music, either vocal or instrumental, among " the masses of the popula- tion ;" and that we will, consequently, recommend to the attention of our readers, Mr. Oestreicher's forthcoming Lectures on " Vocal Music. We heartily concur in the recom- mendation. The lines entitled " The Orphan Boy," are not discredit- ably written, but are too imperfect for publication. The author would find a little attention to spelling and grammar more profitable than rhyming. A Bachelor " asks us, three old bachelors ourselves, what we think of the lecture on Marriage that Mr. Mackintosh i* about to deliver; as though we could pronounce opinions on what we have not yet heard ! Let him go hear it, and judge for himself. A Charade, by B., will be inserted ; as will, also, " A Poetical Description of Dicky Moon and his Countrymen." William Tell " is under consideration. IfS. S. wishes to procure a complete set of the " Free Press," he should call at our publisher's, and not write to the Editors, to inquire whether it is to be had. A correspondent who adopts the uncouth signature of ' Bel Tcetel," sends us the following, as " a copy, verbatim et literatim, of a letter sent by a patient residing in Street, to a disciple of Esculapius, in this neighbourhood." It looks very much like a " manufactured article," but we take it as handed to us :— " Deer Ser,— Not been able to cum toe your ouse i thote hit rite toe right toe tel you thate i ham a Verry deel beter then I vvor on setterdey wen you wor hat hour ouse the sweelin hof mi legs his gon doun hand i kan gett a kros thous floar bate krutsh mi happytite his mendhin hand i thinke hif i kan get hover tneokst thre munths has i l av dun for th last munth i Shal bee has brayvleye has Hivver j wor hin mi life me not ben no skollar you mont think nout about my wrighthing not been fip. e has I never larnte mutch." Our correspondent says he thinks the above is " one pro. of of Solid Learning being on the decline in the present age Our " Devil " thinks it is a proof that learning is on the ad- vance, inasmuch as it shows that persons who were never taught to spell, are now learning to write. We cannot give " An Englishman." any information as to the particular objects of the " West Riding Emigrants' Na_ tional Aid Society." He should apply to the Society's officers. D., in reply to Mr. Mackintosh, shall appear in our next* We should have found room for it this week; but we are anxious that, in general, our " letterbox" department shall not be extended to an undue length, as was the case in our last number; as thereby we exclude a variety of miscellane- ous articles. The following Charade has been sent us by D.; and poe tical answers are requested :— You ask me where may my first be found ? Where Flora's children bloom around, Where all is beautiful, bright and fair, And heavenly fragrance fills the air; Though others there be more gay and rare, My fast is the sweetest that blossoms there. Oft times it mantles my second's cheek, When of Love and it's soft delights I speak. Her breath hath the fragrance, her lip the hues. Of my first when freshened by morning dews; 1 hus much and no more of her must I utter, To name her would cause my heart to flutter. My whole is placed on the darksome bier, And its leaves are watered by many a tear. And instead of enjoying the gladsome day, In the gloom of the grave it withers away ; And now ye cunning and ready witted, If ye read not my riddle ye are to be pitied. " A Liberal Wesley an" sends us the following paragraph from the " Anti- Bread- Tax Circular:—" The great body of the Wesleyan Methodists are of the industrious class, but their leaders, who are generally rich men, have a strong propensity to sympathise with the landed aristocracy, and to take a part hostile to the interests of their poorer brethren We have observed this disposition, not only in their news- paper organ, the Watchman, which is exclusively controlled by a small clique of wealthy individuals, but also in the conduct of some leading men of the communion in their se- veral localities. A singular proof of this tendency has been afforded to us recently. The Council of the League deter- mined, a short time ago, to pr int fifty thousand copies of the " Authorities upon the Corn Law," and the " Letter to the Duke of Wellington," to be stitched with the advertisements^ in the usual way, in the magazines. Not the slightest im. pediment was offered by the conductors of any periodical, Whig, Tory, Radical, High Church, Evangelical, or Dissent- ing, excepting the Methodist Magazine, belonging to the Wesleyan body. After considerable delay, the Secretary of the League was informed by the publisher that the com. mittee had decided against admitting the advertisement. We content ourselves with simply drawing the attention of such of the Wepleyan body to the fact as live by the labour of[ their hands, and have no object, whether of vanity or self- interest, to serve, in being made accomplices in the op- pression of their fellow- men. The rejected advertisement may be seen in Blackwood's, the Evangelical, and other Ma• gazines of this month." H A L I F A X -.— Printed and Sold, for the Propretors, at the General Printing Office of H. Martin, Upper George Yard.
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