Nov. 30,] 



THE NEWSPAPER. 







has been m that struggle can never feel, as he goes crawl- 

 ing .along calculating on which side lies the profit 1 Poor 

 paltry wretch— if such there be-I tell him to reckon thethrob- 

 bings of my heart as it beats with all its pulse for old Ireland 

 and to know what the pleasure is which I feel in struggling for 

 her liberty. That is my duty and my happiness, and recollect- 

 ing that loved land— the fairest, sweetest spot on earth— more 

 fertile, more populous than 16 states of Europe— more powerful 

 I will say too, than almost any state, for her tremendous 

 ijrsical force is concentrated in a narrow compass— can I 

 doubt that such a country was fitted for one day of prosperity 

 and happiness ? Aye, that day is near at hand. The mornini 



ri844. 



him to two unwelcome offices — to wed a gay, rich, ai 

 fashionable widow, his cousin, Lady A. Hawthorn 



liberty into old Ireland. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 



The meeting was subsequently addressed by Mr. S- 

 O'Brien, Mr. Steele, Mr. Barrett, and Dr. Gray. 



Archbishop M'Ha lb returned thanks for the Roman Catholic 

 hierarchy, and justified his order in supporting and furthering 

 Mr. O Connell's agitation, on the ground that by doine so thev 

 showed their sympathy for the people, and their desire to alle- 

 viate their distress, lie maintained too that the Roman Catho- 

 lic clergy, when they mixed in secular assemblies, evinced an 

 anxiety to soothe and not irritate, and endeavoured to lay into 

 repose the mutinous elements of society. They had been ac- 

 cused of co-operating with conspirators, but the decision of the 

 House of Lords had shown that the charge of conspiracy was un- 

 founded. If it were otherwise, neither bishops nor clergy would 

 be there that evening, for neither the Roman Catholic priesthood 

 nor episcopacy held any sympathy with sedition. No, it was well 

 known that they had a holier and wiser discrimination, and 

 .hat their chief object and incessant endeavour was to dis- 

 charge the respective duties which they owed to the temporal 

 power* on the one side, and their spiritual authority en the 



, . , every city in Europe— those 



monuments which served as beacon-lights to guide them in 

 the path of their duties, and they loved to walk in the old beaten 

 path which their pious ancestors had trodden. From those 

 duties they would not shrink, for it was the discharge of such 

 duties that had enabled them, with their illustrious guest at 

 the-.r head, to strike off some of the chains that bound the 

 energies of Ireland. The same course would, he trusted, 

 enable them to get rid of the odious remnant of those chains 

 and resist then- reformation in a more hideous form. The 

 reverend prelate concluded a very fiuent speech, by condemning 

 the Charitable Bequests Bill, and with it the framers of it, as 

 theon^pnngof a most insidious policy, and of an unworthy 

 effort to 11 jure the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland. 



Dr. Browne also returned thanks, concurring in what 

 had fallen from the Archbishop of Tuam, whom he took 

 as his polar star in religion, while Mr. O'Connell was 

 Lis political guide. Several other toasts of local interest 

 followed.— An important cause which Has been pend- 

 ing between the Poor-law Commissioners and the Lime- 

 rick Board of Guardians was decided last week in the 

 Court of Queen's Bench. After the legal argument had 

 been concluded, the Court delivered a judgment which 

 is, in effect, a decision against the Commisaioners, inas- 

 much as they refused the mandamus, at the same time 

 intimating that it was not in the power of the Guardians 

 to resign, and that it was optional with the Commis- 

 sioners i o receive their resignation, and cause another 

 board to be elected. 



SCOTLAND. 



Edinburgh. — A public meeting was held last week to 

 consider the scheme for supplying public baths for the 

 working classes. The meeting, which was crowded by a 

 liumerous assemblage of all classes, was called at the 

 instigation of the committee for erecting the baths. The 

 Duke of Buccleuch took the chair, and was supported by 

 Lord Ounfeiujline, the Lord Justice-General, Lord 

 Cunnin-hame, Lord Murray, Sir J. M'Neill, Mr. 

 Rutherford, M.l\, Bishops Terrot and Gillis, Sheriff 

 Spiers, Mr. R. Chambers, &c. Votes suitable to the 

 occasion were proposed by Lord Murray and others, and 

 carried unanimously. Thanks were voted to the Duke 

 of Buccleuch, who, before leaving the room, put down 

 his name for 100/., and that of the Duchess for 25/. — 

 A lar^e meeting of the Chamber of Commerce was held 

 on Friday, when resolutions were passed condemnatory 

 of any change in the currency of Scotland. It was an- 

 nounced by one speaker that the merchants of Man- 

 chester were willing to assist the Scotch in petitioning 

 Parliament •gainst any change. 



II avmarket Theatre. — A new five-act comedy 

 oy Mr.^ Houicicault, entitled ■« Old Heads and Young 

 Hearts," was produced last week at this theatre, and 

 w »th complete success, in spite of much obscurity o\ 

 plot in the three last acts, which marred what would 

 otherwise have been one of the best of our modern 

 comedies. The play opens well. At the rising of the 

 curtain we are at the chambers of Littleton Coke (Mr. 

 <-• Mathews), a younger brother and a briefless barrister, 

 *born his ,ther thrust into the bar because she had 

 dreamt he would become Lord Chancellor. He has run 

 through his fortune at College, and mortgaged his paternal 

 acres to his brother Tom Coke (Mr. Webster), a Yorkshire 

 squire. He is holding aconsultation with his factotum, Bub 

 (Mr. Bui ketone), who informs him that a loan he had antici- 

 pated from a friend had resohed itself into the pingntar 

 {•ct of his friend's reply that »• he is in Flor, e." Hi 



(Madame Vestris), and to become M.P. for a borough. 

 Coke undertakes to thwart the eld nobleman's designs, 

 by relieving his son from the lady and the borough. But 

 hardly is the plan arranged, when Bob announces two 

 suspicious visitors, whom, by their description, Littleton 

 takes for the moneylender and the attor f. The friends 

 escape, whilst Bob receives, with a broadside of indignant 

 epithets, the new comers—who are, however, Littleton's 

 elder brother, Tom Coke (Mr. Webster), just returned an 

 M.P., and an aged clergyman, Jesse Rural (Mr. W 

 Farren), who has been as a father to both, but who 

 especially doats upon Littleton. They have both come 

 to relieve Littleton from his necessities; but brother 

 Tom, when insulted by Bob, is highly incensed, while 

 Rural is lost in amazement. In the meantime, Littleton 

 is introduced by his aristocratic friend at his mother's, 

 the Countess of Pompion (Mrs. W. Clifford), whose 

 only thoughts are concentrated upon fashion, her lap-dog, 

 and herself. Here Littleton meets Lady Alice Hawthorn, 

 and they fall, at first sight, into mutual love. The 

 gay widow has discovered the object of her cousin's 

 passion, and Charles Roebuck is gladdened with the 

 sight of Miss Rocket and her father, whom the scheming 

 Earl of Pompion has been induced to invite to his 

 house, under the false notion, insinuated by Lady 

 Alice, that he disposes of two seats in Parliament. 

 Once united in the drawing-room of Pompion House, 

 a succession of plots and counterplots, of mistakes and 

 cross purposes, succeed each other, too innumerable and 

 intricate to enumerate — the innocent clergyman becoming 

 the confidant of all parties, and the Marplot of the in- 

 trigue. Tom Coke falls in love with Lady Alice, who 

 encourages him to elucidate the feelings of his brother ; 

 but the misiake is soon cleared up, and ultimately the 

 young lord and the young barrister, disguised as post- 

 boys, gallop away with their lady-loves to Closeborough, 

 for which Littleton is at last returned as member. Un- 

 fortunately they each discover, on arriving at the end of 

 their journey, that they have arrived with the wrong one. 

 Whilst the gentlemen quarrel on this subject, the Co- 

 lonel, the Earl, and the Countess arrive in hot pursuit, 

 and all parties attack the poor clergyman, who, by his 

 gentle-hearted bluntness, has been the origin of all the 

 mischances. Eut, as comedies must terminate at the 

 fifth act, the dramatist here interposes his magic rod, 

 and at once the Old Heads are conciliated, and the 

 Young Hearts made happy. Long as may appear this 

 account of the argument, it is far too short to guide the 

 reader through the labyrinth of the intrigue. The 

 scenery was most gorgeous. Seldom indeed has any- 

 thing been seen on the stage more perfect than the lay- 

 ing out of the drawing-room of Lord Pompion. At the 

 fall of the curtain there was a perfect storm of applause, 

 mingled with calls for the author and Mr. Webster, in 

 the midst of which Mr. Farren came forward to announce 

 the comedy for repetition. The calls for the author and 

 manager were, however, continued incessantly, upon 

 which Mr. Bourcicault made his bow from a private box, 

 and Mr. C. Mathews and Miss Julia Bennett made their 

 appearance on the stage. The demand for Mr. Webster, 

 so far from diminishing, increased in force, and at last 

 the curtain drew up and discovered nearly everybody 

 concerned in the play drawn up upon the stage to divide 

 the compliment with their manager. 



to roe, tor when any specific medicine is taken for above two 

 ears without affecting the disease, there is no i e ground 



iifitscdiaiuous. 



The Eclipse of the Moon. — The commencement of the 

 eclipse on Sunday night was not seen in the metropolis, 

 owing to the hazy weather. About midnight the dark- 

 ness was intense. A little before one o'clock, however, 

 the moon appeared tolerably clear, and for nearly half 

 an hour before the last contact with the shadow was dis- 

 tinctly visible. It is worthy of remark that in conse- 

 quence of the hazy state of the atmosphere, the eclipse 

 was not seen in Edinburgh, and our foreign news informs 

 us that the fog rendered it equally invisible in Brussels 

 and Paris. It was seen, however, in Dublin, ar.d at 

 various places on both sides of St. George's Channel. 



Miss Martineau and Mesmerism,-— The At n of Saturday 



contains along communication from Mitt* Martineau, detail- 

 ing the particulars of her wonderful cure, which has been 



ierism, after a serious illness of five years and 

 a half. Oi Ihe char er ofthe ciisea.se under which she suffered 

 she thus Speaks :— *' This is not the place in which to give any 

 dc Is of disease. It will be sufficient to explain briefly, in 

 order to render my story intelligible, that the internal d e 

 under which I suffered appears to have been coming: on fo 

 many years; that, after warnings of (ailing health, which J 

 ca *sly overlooked, I broke (town, while travelling: abros 

 i i June, 1839; that 1 sank lower and lower for three year* af' 

 my return, and remained nearly stationary for two mote pre- 

 ceding last June. During: these five years 1 never felt wholly at 

 ease lor one single hour. I seldom had severe pain, but never 

 entire comfort. A besetting sicknc . almost disabling* me 

 from taking- f for two years, brought roe very low, and, 

 her with other evils, it confined me to a cfendi n of 

 almos it ire stillness— to a life passed between my bed and 

 my I was not t er many attempts at gentle ex- 



for hope in reason than in feeling. In June last 1 suffered more 

 than usual, and new measures of alleviation were i .sorted to. 

 As to all the essential points of the disease I was never lower 

 than immediately before I .made trial of mi m." Miss 



Martineau then gives the following narrative.—' Saturday. 



June 22, Mr. Spencer Hall and my medical friend came, as ar- 

 ranged, at my worst hour of the day, between the expiration of 

 one opiate and the taking of another. By an accident the 

 gentlemen were rather in a hurry— a circumstance unfavour- 

 able to a first experiment. But result enough was obtained to 

 encourage a further trial, though it was of a nature entirely 

 unanticipated by me. I had no other idea than that I should 

 either drop asleep or feel nothing. I did not drop asleep, and I 

 did feel something very strange. Various passes were tried by 

 Mr. Hall; the fir>t that appeared effectual, and the most so for 

 some time after, were passes over the head made from behind, 

 passes from the forehead to the back of the head, and a little 

 way down the spine. A very short time after these were tried, 

 and 20 minutes from the beginning of the seance, I became sen- 

 sible of an extraordinary appearance, most unexpected, and 

 wholly unlike anything I had ever conceived of. Some- 

 thing seemed to diffuse itself through the atmosphere— 

 not like smoke, nor steam, nor haze— but most like a clear 

 twilight, closing in from the windows and down from 

 the ceiling, and in which one object after another r I 



away till scarce y anything was left visible before my 

 wide-open c>es. First the outline of all objects was blurred; 

 then a bust, standing on a pedestal in a strong light, melted 

 quite away; then the opposite bust; then the table with its gay 

 cover; then the floor, and the ceiling, till one small ire, 



high up on the opposite wall, only remained visible, like a 

 patch of phosphoric light. I feared to move ray t *, lest the 

 singular appearance should vanish; and I eric it, 'OI 



deepen it! deepen it!' supposing this the precursor of the 

 sleep. It could not be deepened, however ; and when I glanced 

 aside from the luminous point I found that I need not icar the 

 return of objects to their ordinary appearance while the passes 

 were continued. The busts re-appcaicd, ghostlike, in the dim 

 atmosphere, like faint shadows, except that their outlines, and 

 the parts in the highest relief, burned with the same pho >ric 

 light. The features of one, an [sis with bent head, med to 

 be illumined by a fire on the floor, though this bust has Its back 

 to the windows. Wherever 1 glanced all outlines were c sed 

 in this beautiful light; and so they have been at every &<■ /*, 

 without exception, to this day; though the appearance has 

 rather given way to drowsiness since I left off opiates entirely. 

 This appearance continued dating the remaining 20 minutes 

 before the gentlemen were obliged to leave me. The other 

 effects produced were, first, heat, oppression, and sickness, 

 and, for a few hours after, disordered stomach, followed, 

 in the course of the evening, by a feeling of lightness and 

 relief in which I thought I could hardly be mi ken." The 

 second application was made by Miss Mariiiu-an's maid. 

 "Mr. Hall," says Miss Martineau, "was prevented b 1L 

 ness from coming over, too late to let me know. ' Un- 

 willing to take my opiate while in expectation of his 

 arrival, and too wretched to do without some resource, I 

 rang for my maid, and asked whether she had any • etion 

 to attempt what she saw Mr. Hall do the day before. With the 

 greatest alacrity she complied. Within one minute the twilight 

 and phosphoric lights appeared; and in two or tin more a 

 deliciou- sensation of ease spread through me— a cool comfort, 

 before which all pain and distress gave way, oozing out, as it 

 were, at the soles of my feet. During that hour, and aln the 

 whole evening, I could no more help exclaiming with pleasure 

 than a person in torture crying out with pain. I became hungry, 

 and ate with relish, for the first time for five years. There was 

 no heat, oppression, or sickness during the stance, nor any dis- 

 order afterwards. During the whole evening, instead of the 

 lazy hot case of opiates, under which pain is felt to lie in wait, 

 I experienced something of the indescribable sensation of health, 

 which I had quite lost and forgotten. I walked about my rooms, 

 and was gay and talkative. Something of this relief remained 

 till the next morning; and then there was no reaction. 1 was 

 no worse than usual ; and perhaps rather better. Nothing is 

 to roe more unquestionable and more striking about this in- 

 fluence than the absence of all reaction. Its highest ex- 

 hilaration is followed, not by depression or exhai on, but 

 by a further renovation. From the first hour to the present, 

 I have never fallen back a single step. Every point gained 

 has been steadily held. Improved composure «f nerve and 

 spirits h?*s followed upon every mesmeric exhilaration. I 

 have been spared all the weaknesses of convalescence, and 

 carried through all the usually formidable enterprises of 

 return from deep disease to health with a steadiness and 

 tranquillity astonishing to all witnesses. At this time, before 

 venturing to speak of my health as established, I believe my- 

 r more firm in nerve, more calm and steady in mind and 

 spirits, than at any time of my life before. So m jch, in con. 

 sideration of the natural and common fear of the mesmeric in- 

 fluence as pernicious excitement— as a kind of intoxication." 

 Miss Martineau mentions several incidents. — "Another 

 striking incident occurred in one of the earliest of my walks. 

 My mesmerist and I had reached a headland nearly half a mile 

 from home, and were resting there, when she proposed to 

 mesmerize me a little— partly to refresh me for our return, 

 and partly to see whether any effect would be pro;* need in a 

 new place and while a fresh breeze was blowing. She merely 

 laid her hand on my forehead, and in a minute or two the 

 usual appearances came, assuming a strange air of novelty 

 from the scene in which I was. After the blurring of the out- 

 lines, which made all objects more dim than the dull g day 

 had already made them, the phosphoric lights a d, glori- 



fying every rock and headland, the horizon, and all the vessels 

 in sight. One of the dirtiest and meanest of the steam t in 

 the port was passing at the time, and it was ail drc d in 

 heavenly radiance — tbc last object that any imagination would 

 select as an element of a vision. Then, and often before and 

 since, did it occur to me that if I had been a pious and very ig- 

 norant Catholic, I could not have escaped the persuasion tnat I 

 had seen heavenly visions. Every glorified object before my 

 en eyes would have been a revelation, and my mesmerist, 

 with the white halo round her head, and the illuminated pro- 

 file, would have been a saint or an angel." 



..« „ -vj.ij „«„ "he is in Florence. "• nis 



last )ps are fixed upon a letter he has written to his ercise that my frie s agreed with ine that the c was too 

 brother Turn : the answer arrive the monev is refused & reat for an y advantage gained; and at length it was clear 



Cnkr r, iJL 7. ?. r am . ves jne money wreiusea. that e , n ? down Q Kgh% q{ 8U|a wM impnulcnt . 



From that time I lay i , and by means of this undisturbed 

 qu , and such an increase * as kept my 



m urgent i I passed i\n ast two yea 



with less suffering than the o preceding. T e wa 



however, no favourable change in t iisease. Everything 

 was done for me it the best un d I and s< 



could gest, a d the most indefi humanity and 



n devi . bul nothing c< id mere 



alleviat -e on wa erate. Mv 



nd \ at nv al friend most sang e man I 



W, and -t bent i Z **** p-Uien.t hope. 



_ la -tm I twice after' that he 



fo himsel lied to give up all hope of affecting the 



e furring ! r " 17" * i — *~"l —»• — — ■ e — of < ore than in ateral 



iucr mtorros his friend that his mi nes respect, to t .bie point. Ti >is was no surprise 



Coke vows irrevocable alienation from his bro r, and 

 '■plunged in utter despair. A knock is heard, when 

 4*°rd Charles Roebuck r. Holl) enters: he is the 

 prodjgH] > f the pompous Honi linister of the day, 

 ™*JSarI of Powpion (Mr. Tilbury). Lord ( rk 

 !ja« been for nine years, at E d Cambridge, 



chum of Littleton, relates r re with 



-w'M llrrket (Miss Julia Bennett). H< and her 

 erturnt-d In her carriage on the road, with an o 

 j*« India Colonel, her father (Mr. Strickland), and 

 IC " m love with her. In his communis ve it, 



who 



e 



Court of Chancery.— The Du ke of Leeds v. Lord Amlierst \— 

 This appeal was argued at great length on Saturday, the 17th, 

 and Monday, the IQth, and involved the right of h to 



an equestrian painting of Marshal the Duke of Schomberg, — 

 The Loan Chancellor now gave judgment, an* d, that 



the facts were very simple in themselves. The late Puke of 

 Leeds, by his will, bequeathed (inter alia) all his portr in- 



cluding those of his mother, of his grandfather and ii ui- 

 mother, Lord and Lady Holdernesse, of his son, and of the 

 Duke of Schomberg, to trustees, to allow his law, Mr. 



Sackvillc Lane Fox, to have the use of them for life, with re- 

 mainder over :ified in the will ; and in another part of his 

 will the Duke gave all the article ol furniture, ornaments, &c v 

 at Hornby Castle not before Icaliy bequeathed to his trus- 

 tees to sell, with the right of preempts n. however, to hi >u 



en the Marqefa of Carmarthen. Upon the decease of the late 

 DuV three paintings of the Duke of Schomberg were found, 

 one in crayon-, one a half-length portrait, and tin- grand eques- 

 trian painting by Sir Godfrey Koeller. which was th' mbject- 

 niatter in dispute. A suit was instituted before the Vice-Chan- 

 cellor of England, and it was referred to the Master to inquire 

 what portr s ot the Duke of Schomberg the testator was pos- 







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