newly created influence of the public in the House of Commons will bẹ too powerful for them. If they act wisely they will acknowledge the necessity of arranging their financial plans for 1833 with reference to this latter influence, and thus secure for themselves the only support which can keep them in their places. Lord Althorp, in his speech, when preparing the budget on the 27th of July, said nothing that could lead us to form a rational expectation that the deficiency of the revenue on the 5th of January, 1833, would be less than the deficiency on the 5th of last July. He even admitted that the Customs revenue would necessarily continue to fall off. The dimi nution he estimated as follows. Reduction of duties by the new customs act, On corn imported, £500,000 100,000 Loss of revenue by allowing for drainage on sugar, 80,000 120,000 £800,000 . With respect to the excise revenue, Lord Althorp stated he expected there would be an increase in 1832 of about £250,000; but little dependence can be placed on such a loose conjecture. He seemed to rely chiefly, for an improvement in the relative state of the income and expenditure, on the reduction which he estimated would take place in the public expenditure in 1832; the parliamentary grants for 1832 being less than those for 1831 by two millions. But it is to be observed, that the grants for 1831 were of greater amount than the grants for 1830 by one million; and, in addition to this, it must be further observed, that whatever diminution has been shown on the estimates for 1832, no reduction whatever has been made in the great establishments of the country. The diminished grants for 1831 have been produced by not purchasing the usual quantities of naval stores, and by the expenses incured on the militia and yeomanry in 1831 not being continued in 1832. No reduction has been made in the army, or in the number of seamen and ships in commission. We have had a fleet cruising in the channel the whole summer, as if we were actually at war. No reduction has been made in the regiment of artillery, in the sappers and miners, or in expenses on military buildings at home and abroad. In point of fact, no real and honest reduction whatever has been made in the expenditure so as to secure permanently for the future a surplus of income over expenditure. In a future article we shall show in what way such a reduction may, and ought to be accomplished. NIGHT-BURIAL AT SEA. It was a mariner bent and grey, FYTTE I. Came wandering by the church-yard way He saw us mourn, but not like those Had crowned in death, with sweet repose, At the soft hour of even-fall Now when our solemn rite had ceased, "And 'tis a blessed lot, to lie Beneath familiar ground, "Such rest, since death is common doom, Ye should stand by when the mariner's Is made in the deep, deep sea! Of sailors' wintry graves!" Thy words have strongly won mine ear- "Ay, me! how many a brave career" "Hath closed on such a weltering bier!" And thus his story ran;— "And sad, in ocean dark and vast, TALE OF THE ENGLISH MARINER. "Ye deem our course all storm and sport, Hot strife, and revel light; To drift beneath the tombless waste ""Tis fifty summers past and more;— And well our rugged life may court That landsmen little know. ""Tis fearful, when the angry gale In some loved mate's remembered tone, VOL. II. "As fair and nobly did she ride, "She was long and low, and sharp be- With a gently curved side, And white decks, flush and wide,- "Her yards were square, her spars were Well set by stay and shroud; That made your soul grow proud! And close and black, in grim array, Her chase, the stoop of war; St. George! how proud the old man grew! "Till with calm voice he gan renew E FYTTE 11. "There was a boy, a fair young lad, "All loved the child; for hope and joy Like sun-light round him shone; We trembled for the noble boy, And watched him night and noon, Lest the quick spirit should destroy His slender lamp too soon. "And when he fain our watch would share, And every storm abide, We sought his tender years to spare, And might not be denied. "Full little thanks the urchin bold For all our cares repaid; 'He was,' said he, too stout and old To learn his gallant trade.' The pride of every eye,— But smiled as he went by; "But when the winter nights came on, With sea, and snow, and gale; His little strength ran out anon, And his fresh cheek grew pale ;— We marked him wan and weak; "Alas! his eager spirit pined, While idly sick he lay: For all our cares, and tendance kind, Silent and fast his life declined, At length he passed away! "The ancient mates did then declare, (I ween they deemed aright,) "Then up and spake our captain brave, Ye shall not cast him on the wave "So we kept the child throughout the day, And the sea of sullen hue: "Ere the red sun sank down, the north The waves were singing loud :—- We stretched it on the simple bier, "An awful time it seemed, and fit To match our task of wo:- knit Looked spectral in the glow. "Then some that watched to windward Right in the tempest's eye, Till, what with grief and ghostly dread, And cold at heart with strange affright, And sooth, as leaves with winter's blast FYTTE III. "Now when his stand the chaplain took, Scarce could we hear, as from the book More shrilly rang the gale; "I know that my Redeemer, Christ, And he shall stand upon the earth In the great Judgment-Day: Yea, though the worms my dust consume, "And when he breathed that holy word That further speech might none be heard, High washed the corpse's feet. Each man to man around, "When thy strong breath doth scatter Even as a sleep they pass: Its beauty falls before the sithe, "At once the gale uprose again : "Unheard, thenceforth, the chaplain read; But we saw his face by the lamp o'er head, He made a sign to cast the dead Forth to its stormy tomb. "Now, when the corpse to sea we gave, It swept the unburied from the wave, "And the mariners gave a shuddering cry, To see the corpse pass whirling by, "Short leisure, 'midst the storm's descent, As straight, through sails and rigging rent, "Beneath the varying shocks o'er-strained, "We could not hear the Captain's shout, And from its flash the light flew out Keen as a flaming sword. "We could not aid the good ship's toil; "But ere we drave ten fathoms wide, The gale went down, and lulled, and died; "And where the Eastern billows slept And a faint murmur round us crept, "Then did our praise to Him who wrought That blessed calm, ascend; But awe bechilled us, as we though t Each questioned much, and answered nought, For none could counsel lend: SOME LATE PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF JOHN BULL, ESQ. (Continued from Page 599, vol. I.) CHAPTER VII. Shewing how Bill Boswain lost his Breeches, and what came thereof; the Stramash in John's Family, and the Rumpus at the Mitre. BILL BOSWAIN did not well remember how he tumbled into bed on the night of the hop, after the dismissal of Gaffer; but all night long he dreams of the 'Squire transformed into a bear in a rage; and of Gaffer and his Broom talking; and of the message he behoved to send in the morning. And then, that his wenches were frying the old dish, and Hookey standing by, staring at him like a mad doctor, using a horn to make him swallow it. The message to Gaffer, to say truth, was ready cut-and-dry, long before; though Bill, poor soul, might not know as much. Late in the morning he rubs up his eyes, with something of a head. ache, and perhaps, something of a heartache too, if he had owned it; but he put the best face on the matter. "Where's my wife?" quoth he. "In the back parlour with Hookey, darning a stocking;" for it was always making a pudding or darning a stocking she was. This good housewife was never meddling with John's matters-not she! "Then bring me my breeches," quoth Bill.-But up or down, high or low, no such article was to be found. "Where's my breeches," shouted Bill, manfully; for his wife was now gone out to chapel. "What a spot of work is here," quoth that pert gipsy, Jenny Driver; "I daresay that rogue, H. B. has stolen them to make a picture of them, and they may be in Rag Fair by this time." "I'll have my breeches," cried Bill; "If the 'Squire hear of this-" "Sure you have no more need of such an article than a Highlander for kneebuckles," said the forward, saucy wench, whose shrewish, merry humour made her a great favourite with Bill; "A'n't you a brisk Jack tar, and shouldn't sport shorts. There's Hookey on the stairs: throw any thing on you for decency; and get up, and put that prig Gaffer out of his pain. Here's an old petticoat of my mistress's, and here's a wrap-rascal of -'s." It was impossible to make out the name; whether the last flourish was the up-swirled tail of an n or r, or the sweep of an e or d, no man could tell; and of which garment Bill availed himself, or if he donned both, history is mute; but up he got, in time to hear that his mes sage to Greysteel had caused a commotion in John's family, to which all that had ever happened before was mere moonshine in water; |