ble in its conduct. The demand for the finer kinds of woollens still continues slack, both for the home trade and expor tation. There are but few London buyers in the market, and these purchase sparingly. For low qualities of woollens, including blankets, flannels, and baizes, the demand is brisk and steady; in consequence of which the price of English wools is looking upwards. The cloth halls of Leeds and Huddersfield are becoming rather bare of goods, and the domestic manufacturers, by whom the coarse woollens are generally made, are actively employed. Preparations are already making by some of the manufacturers to avail themselves of the New American Tariff; which will admit the lowest qualities of woollens into the United States, after the 3d of March next, at the trifling duty of 5 per cent, ad valorem. At Rochdale, Bury, and Rossendale, where flannels and baizes are chiefly made, there is considerably more activity than there has been for the last six months; one of the best proofs and fruits of which is an advance of wages voluntarily made by the masters. THE WORSTED STUFF TRADE is unusually active, and a great amount of business is weekly done at the Bradford market. A slight advance has taken place in the price of some kinds of goods, and the rise is expected to become general. The demand is both for home consumption and exportation. In the United States, trade has been brought to a stand, in the great commercial cities of New York and Philadelphia, by the ravages of the Cholera. So great was the terror of the inhabitants of the former city, that no less than one hundred thousand persons, nearly one-half of the population, quitted their occupations and homes, and spread themselves over the agricultural districts. The shops and stores were closed, and the whole city wore the aspect of gloom and mourning. By the last accounts it appears that the disease was subsiding, and that commerce was beginning again to be attended to. The existence of this disease will, no doubt, continue greatly to depress trade for several months; and no material revival can be expected until the Spring, when there will, no doubt, be an extensive importation of goods from England. The markets on the eastern coast of South America, have, within the last few months, experienced a wonderful improvement. Owing to the want of confidence in the new Brazilian Government, few goods were sent out to that country for many months after the expulsion of the Emperor. There became, therefore, a great scarcity of manufactured goods at Rio de Janeiro, Pernambuco, and Bahia; in consequence of which, the exchange rose in a few months from 22 up to 43. This favourable turn in the exchanges, the continued tranquillity of the country under the new Government, and the improved demand which the Brazilians had for their Coffee in consequence of the partial destruction of the Coffee crops in Jamaica, combined to give an extraordinary stimulus to exportation; and great quantities of British Manufactures have been sent, and are now going to those markets. The increased confidence in the stability of the Brazilian Government, is manifested by the improved price of Brazilian bonds on London, which were at 43 at the beginning of June, and are now at 52. Trade has also revived at Buenos Ayres, in consequence of the cessation of the civil wars, by which the Argentine Provinces On the have, for years been afflicted. conclusion of peace very few goods were found, and there was speedily a great demand for them; the natural effect of which has been a large exportation from this country. In consequence of our excessive and depreciated paper currency, the exchange at Buenos Ayres, was gradually depressed from 47d. down to 7d.; and, the cause not having been removed, the effect still continues. The good state of the South American markets, has, of course, produced considerable activity at Liverpool, and been a relief to the manufacturing districts of England, The prospects for the trade of the country, are, on the whole, satisfactory. A heavy load of taxation, and an abominable system of Corn Laws are the main obstacles to mercantile and manufacturing prosperity. So long as the present Corn Laws continue, there can be no reliance on a satisfactory and steady intercourse with the United States; and our manufacturers will find the competition of their European rivals becoming every year more formidable. The abolition of the Corn Laws, or even such an alteration of them as would allow the importation of corn at all seasons, on the payment of a moderate duty, would give a great stimulus to the industry of the country. A reduction of taxation, and an improvement on the mode of levying it, would be attended with the same beneficial results. The country looks to a reformed Parliament for the realization of these advantages. Much as the press of England has done in correcting vulgar errors on commercial subjects, much still remains to be done; for not only amongst persons altogether unacquainted with trade, and amongst those who know nothing of it beyond its manual operations, or the set routine of the counting-house or counter, but amongst extensive merchants, who are also authors and members of Parliament, the grossest ignorance is still displayed of the very elementary principles of commerce. A notable example of this was given the other day at Leeds, where Mr. Michael Thomas Sadler, formerly a linen-draper, but now a linen-merchant, and one of the Duke of Newcastle representatives in the House of Commons, whilst soliciting the suffrages of that great mercantile town, uttered a sentiment which alone ought to induce the electors to reject him as the representative of their interests. Mr. T. B. Macaulay, M.P., a Commissioner of the Board of Control, who, with Mr. John Marshall, jun. is to represent the borough of Leeds in the next Parliament, had declared "As I am for freedom of discussion and of worship, so I am also for freedom of trade. I am for a system under which we may sell where we can sell dearest, and buy where we can buy cheapest. 1 firmly believe that, by just legislation on commercial subjects, a great part of that distress which the people of this country labour under may be alleviated or removed." We rejoice to find a member of the Board of Control so plainly declaring this important principle of free trade. Let Mr. Macaulay apply the principle to the India and China trade, as we have no doubt he will, and the gigantic monopoly of the East India Company will be annihilated in the first session of the reformed Parliament. A man holding this enlarged view of the true interest of British commerce, is worthy to represent a town whose manufactures can only flourish in the atmosphere of freedom; and we rejoice to learn, from what we consider the best authority, that his return for Leeds, and that of his liberal colleague, are secure. Mr. Sadler, who addressed the electors after his honourable competitor, made the following remark on the subject of free trade :— "As to free trade, he thought it ought to be reciprocal; that if we took the silks, wines, and brandies of France, that country ought to take in return the woollens and stuffs of England." Of course Mr. Sadler leaves it to be inferred that if the trade is not reciprocal, it ought not to exist at all; that if France will not "take the woollens and stuffs of England," neither ought England to take "the silks, wines, and brandies of France!" This is one of the most vulgar errors of the opponents of free trade, and an error which Mr. Sadler exhibits in naked ab surdity. It is astonishing that any man capable of even the lowest operations of reason should not see the folly of acting on such a principle; yet is there a considerable party, both in Parliament and the country, who gravely propound and zealously support it. It is too well known that France will not admit "the woollens and stuffs of England." By Mr. Sadler's advice, then, we ought to prohibit the "silks, wines, and brandies of France." And how would this mend the matter? It would not induce France to admit English woollens; for we have tried the system of high duties on "silks, wines, and brandies" long enough, in all conscience, without in the smallest degree influencing, except perhaps to confirm, the French absurd anti-commercial policy. We must then either forbid the introduction of French articles altogether, or at least forbid their importation direct from France. In the former case, if the smuggler would allow the prohibition to be of any effect, the English nation would be precluded the use of the only good brandies, and of fine and wholesome wines, for which there is a growing taste in this country. Would this be an advantage? In the latter case, the only effect of the restriction would be, that the brandies and wines of France would be imported from Holland, at a higher price, in order to pay the expense of two voyages. Perhaps this may seem to Mr. Sadler's judgment the greater national benefit; though we are at a loss to conjecture which branch of the alternative would appear to so perverse and eccentric a mind the more eligible. It is most evident that this system of commercial retaliation is not merely inflicting punishment upon others, but upon ourselves; a practice to which revenge may urge a child or an idiot, but which one would think no grown man, in possession of the reasonable faculty, much less any great and wise government, could by possibility countenance. It is doubtless highly desirable, for the sake of extending the commerce of England, to form commercial treaties with other nations on the principle of "reciprocity." Such a system Mr. Sadler seems to recommend; yet who so fierce as he in denouncing the "reciprocity treaties" of Mr. Huskisson? Reciprocity, in the ordinary meaning of the word, implies something to be done by both parties; but the "reciprocity" Mr. Sadler demands is one which he must have learnt in his journeys to buy Irish linens, and which consists in the granting of advantages and facilities by other nations to England, but by no means requires that England should give advantages to them in return. A treaty stipulating that English vessels should be received into Prussian ports on certain advantageous terms, would answer to Mr. Sadler's notion of "reciprocity;" but if it went on to provide that Prussian vessels should be admitted on equally favourable terms into English ports, it would be worthy of all execration! These are the politicians who would sell to every body, and buy from nobody; who would make the English nation eat gold and clothe themselves with gold, seeing that they would fain receive nothing but gold from abroad; who would subject every article which it is worth while to have free, to the fetters of monopoly; who would exclude foreign com modities, and yet call themselves the friends of the shipping interest; who would shut out foreign vessels from our ports, and yet boast themselves the protectors of the manufacturing interest; who would compel the colonies to buy dear English provisions, and yet pretend to be especial friends to the colonies; who would restrict us at home to the consump of high-priced sugar and bad timber, and yet boast of their kindness to the mother country; who would give a monopoly to every interest, and then boast themselves general benefactors; forgetting, meanwhile, that there were at least as many consumers in the nation as producers, and that a system of all-pervading monopoly is an all-pervading oppression and curse. NEW PUBLICATIONS. THE NATURAL SON."-This CANTO I. of a plebeian Don Juan, is put forth, we are told, as a pilot-boat or schooner, to ascertain how the trade-winds set in. We hope they may blow favourably; as we shall be glad to see the full-freighted vessel come up. The Natural Son, with a hundred faults, blemishes, extravagancies, slovenlinesses, indecorums, and deliberate and wilful offences against good taste, is a work to pause on-the production of a vigorous mind in a state of fermentation; and possessed, if we do not flatter ourselves, of strength sufficient to work off its own feculence. As if in contempt of all conventional ideas and habitudes, and of the theory of Mr. Shandy senior, the writer names his six-feet hero, George Selwyn Short; brings him into life with the brand of bastardy on his forehead, and places him as a serjeant, wearing a blue uniform, in the London Police! His history and adventures are taken up from, and before his birth. His father is a Scottish Peer, his mother, an Irishwoman, (we presume) who dies in her twentieth year, leaving George About the age when boyhood learns to spell. The peer is seized with remorse and delirium, and follows her to the grave. George is brought "to a pastoral home," near the town of Lynn, is educated with the sons of the neighbouring gentry, and becomes "a master-spirit of the place," excites the envy of his companions, is upbraided by them for the stigma of his birth, Simpkin and Marshall, p. 80. and resolves to leave his aged tutor. Before we get this length in the adventures of George, we meet with enough that is striking to tempt us onward. The journey to London leads to many stanzas of vigorous and beautiful description; and proves that with all his waywardness and perversity, one has a true man to deal with. A day of good walking brings our hero to the Greyhound Inn, where Calling lustily for lights and supper, he is ministered to, by a mysterious damsel, who stoops to conquer, in guise of the bar-maid; and informs him that "He should have both his supper and his bed." And then she gathered up her silk attire, And placed the lights upon the polished table; Her well-turned form the sculptor might admire, And choose it for a model; soft as sable Was the black lash that veiled her glance of fire, Flashing forbidden beams; would I were able To trace those subtle shades, half-love-halfhope Deep, fond, and melting as an antelope, Roaming, with its young mate, the desert wide: Her wild romantic features had a shade Of living light; tresses that seemed to sparkle, A cloud of glossy curls-enriched with beams darkle. The damsel's character is as changeful in hue as are her tresses. and George, though he had studied woman's countenance She "When first we met,-for mirth I did intend, Your handmaid to have been at this night's revel, But now, in sooth, I sue to be your friend: Touch me that note again, that I may feel The rush of sound upon my soul, and blend My spirit with the music." George cannot do less than comply. He sings and plays "My heart and lute." This scene will be more approved by the admirer of poetry than the moralist. The effects of music on this susceptible maiden, of duets in particular, are highly inflammatory and dangerous. The whole scene is an exhibition of abused power. The lady who has been parleying with our hero in this dangerous sort, is singing this closing stanza, when a carriage wheels are heard: Go-go to the halls of light, stranger, Then away to the festal scenes of men, She springs away, leaving our friend George in a trance, from which he is recalled by the real bar-maid, Who tended briskly with the supper-tray, And now -The sad gaze he cast upon the chicken, Were early symptoms that the deer was stricken. However, by certain appliances he recruits, for Eftsoons, he swallowed, like a dolphin, down and Berwick's cordial does not, in his There are deep caves where souls long lulled reside, Peopling the busy chambers of the brain Of memory are limned; and voices vain, Pale visioned forms-with lips that have no breath, A mountain vapour white; and reptiles creep, The brow with moisture. VOL. II. Next morning George mounts the box of the Red Rover, Booked "outside" for the British Babylon; is set down at the Bolt-in-Tun; and being backed by good interest, is enrolled in the nie's sour applause," is promoted to the Force, gathers laurels, wins "testy Birdignity of sergeant, and yet languishes in the civil service. Weeks waned! months waned! and Selwyn's soul grew tired Of dogging sin, and the street-harlot pale. One of his adventures we give, which, in truth and pathos, justifies more than we have said in praise of this singular work : "One bitter night he paced near Whitehall Stair: The bridge looked lone and tenantless; the lamps Cast o'er the murky stream a fitful glare, Paling the gathered gloom; the vapoury damp Rainy and raw-the fog crept to the bone: Leaning her head in anguish on the stone Struck by an icy pang, and bowed her knee, The veins upon her brow rose purple deep, A stifled shriek, a plash upon the river, And whirled her, in an under-current, strong The men of the Humane, the livelong day, prong: One arm was fiercely driven by the filcod They dragged another day-yet vain the search- Forth from their gulfy pools the pike and perch, started Back to the glassy depths-till, with a lurch, H George is not destined to end his days in the Force. One day loitering on his beat in Hyde Park, he encounters the mysterious lady of the Greyhound; who is named Circe, otherwise Miss Freeling, the heiress of broad iands, and daughter of the Lady Freeling, who had,—— Had her tutored in the paths of grace, For, virtue lends a lustre to the face. Mother and daughter live with Sir Joseph Orme, a knight and courtier-the brother of the old lady, and uncle of Circe. There is something equivocal, baffling, and withal disgusting, about this part of the story; which, in a prefatory memorandum the writer says is founded on facts of recent occurrence. The writer revels on in his fluent power of description, and we learn that Circe's passing whisper engages the Sergeant to " fol. low," unheeding his beat and the frowns of Sir Richard Birnie, till he traces the lady to Belgrave Square, where, all unknown to her uncle, she smiles, and waves her hand. While George leans "wailing" on the "railing," out issues Cupid's messenger in the form of a negress Ah! Massa young-my missie weep for grief! The note informs George Short, that Circe knows more about him than he seems to know of himself; he is enjoined to quit the Force-and Circe manages that he shall become the Secretary of Sir Joseph.-The family move in autumn to the sea-side-love progresses :— while George performs his duties of secretary ; Sad Circe lingered near, with her light tread Gentle heart with rapture beat, Where she and Selwyn over spars might pore, The canto closes with a highlywrought, and, in many points a beautiful description of a sca-side adventure of Circe's, though we regret to say, it is not free of the blemishes which run through the whole poem. We have scarcely yet expressed either the fulness of our admiration, or our blame of this anonymous specimen of a work, with which we trust there will be encouragement to proceed; if such encouragement gives motive to amend and purify. Among the many little errors, there are rhymes at the bottom of page 4th which would at once make shipwreck of a young writer with any Scottish critic of less patience than ourselves, doom him to grovel in Cockaigne for ever. THE PILGRIM OF ERIN, and other Poems. Whatever be the calamities of Ireland, no country rejoices in so affectionate a family of children. Her misfortunes endear her to their hearts; her undeserved sufferings, make her sacred in their eyes, and each hastens to lay the tribute of his homage on her altars. These gifts differ immensely in value; but as the motive is alike, she will receive the Young PILGRIM'S wild flower, as graciously as the gem of her more gifted sons. The Pilgrim, who tells us he is young, does us the honour to select his motto from Tait's Magazine, and dedicates to the King what he wishes to be held as an appeal to England in behalf of his native island. This appeal is made in the Spenserian stanza; the author muses on the departed glories and ancient battle-fields of Ireland, and invokes her patriots and bards, with some facility of description, and glow of feeling. After an apostrophe to the spirits of Emmett, Grattan, and Rowan, (who, by the way, is not yet a disembo died spirit) the Pilgrim argues thus for the fatal wrench which, until the extreme of necessity, Englishmen and Irishmen must alike deprecate : As diamond, but by diamond can be cut, Unite!-To tyrant hearts, a name of fear, After an address to Foland, the writer turns to the fallen walls of Tara : Oh! where are Tara's halls? where, where the Which glory speaks of, and which Time had zoned Where are its lofty columns? where the roof walls? Is nothing left save its historic proof? And silent they who gathered to its halls. DALTON, London, pp. 120. |