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SLICK AGAIN! We out what follows from the London Times of 24th September last. ‘

SAM SLICK ON THE IVA-R QUESTION. ‘

\ To the Editor of. tlie Times. -

, London, 22d September. Sir; I havejiist been favoured with a letter fium my friend Mr. Slick, which you are at liberty to give pub-

licity to. 4 Your most obedient.

Sli'ckm'lle, lllh September, 1840. Dear Tom; The day after I arrived ‘home from my New England Circuit, who should walk into my studi-oh but the Giueral. “Glad to see you back again, Mr. Slick,” says he; “ how’s soft selderand human natur,—-inueli as usual, ey! Queer domgs cross Tlantic,” says lie,—“ I’ve brought you round a file ofEnglisli newspapers and half a dozen letters, and if you’ll jist read them down and give me an idee what your ’pinion is about it all, I’ll be obleeged. I’ve a great regard for your ’pinions, Mr. Slick,” says he. “ Gineral,” I says, “ I feel kinder glad to do you a service at most times, and if you’ll lay the documents along side of yonder big allaruin, I’ll let on know what’s what in two twos. Some craky it of ground in the old country, I speculate, like an old corduroy road with a dry rot in it,—liowsevcr, I’m accustomed to look into the working of things, says I, (a turning round an escapement and a whist- liii Yankee Doodle,)so Giiicral, if you’ll do yourself the pleasure of coming up here to-inorrmv'cve'ning alter my professional hours, I’ll tell you my mind." Well, ’bout nine o’clock last night, in todilles the Gineral, ’cording to engagement. “Bring yourself to an anchor, Gineriil,” says I, “ and walk into that reel It F mm as if you was a-leading on your regi- ment of free and enlightened citizens to the Battle of Brandywine. Well, I’ve been counting over them journals,—quecr crittiirs they are; I liav’iit seen them dittocil for a time past: they’re regular touch- Fact is, those \Viseacres on the other side have enjoyed peace so long, that they’re grown tired of it. It’s a blessing that’s become cheap; and like a glut of lierrings, nobody will thank you for a dish of them use gill. It’s always the way; their legislators and politicians have laid it down for gospel, that peace can’t be wholesome if'it’s kept beyond a certain number of

,years; they think it’s like hung game, which at last

breeds maggots. So each country, altcra long feed, jumps up quite vicious, suarls and looks round to see where it can give its neighbour a snap. The driest bone is enough for them to quarrel for. First they’re ready to go to loggcrlicails because a hot- blooded skipper rinces out the immortal tricolour flag with sea water; then they squabble over a lot oft-Jul bur, till they’re ready to take fire instanter; and tlien comes this burning of their months with another man’s porridge. Five nations play at puss in the corner, and the one that’s left out' grows crusty and shows fight. In the meanwhile each carries on a contraband business in a small way abroad. The English take a contract to shoot down Don Carlos men, and butter a dilapidated town in India. The French virtue is shocked at the wick- edness of the Algerincs, and bundles them out to make room for a colony of its own, where, fbr want of water privileges, the hot soil must be irrigated with soldiers’ blood aiid labourers’ sweat. Then the Muscovites must take a turn in India just to warm their hands, till there’s something doing else- where. Now, what does all this bliister and bully- ing come to? Does it take off a single tax? Not one, I‘m darned. Does it make the people conten- ted and happy? Not so much as you could put in your e e. '

“ W en I first went to school at old Judge Sykes’, there was a ring most days of tlierweek. As I brought a cake-box, I soon had a very , attached ffiend, who talked big for me, and in private bullied and ate my lollypops. \Vlien my ally had succeed- ed in bringing about a row on my account, I had to maintain four or five reglars. But tliere'was always one end, whichever way the battle went the piper must be paid, and glory was sadly mixed with black eyes, sprained limbs, extra hours, cane and birch, and an empty cake«b0x. I guess that inscription that was not stuck up over the \Var—ofl‘ice wos so bad as meat in August—“ The oflice for broken bones—the office for widows and orphans,” and a few other such like ctcetcras.

“ Why the’re silly critturs, those-bayonet and ball- cartridge Ministers—they think that war is a leach that’s to fill itself'with its neighbours’ richness, and they forget that peace is the salt that will follow on their tails, and make them disgorge themselves faster than they like. P’raps it don’t look becoming in me, Gineral, to be speaking against your honour- able profession, which is bloodshed, partikly in presence of this image ot‘our national eagle, which certainly stumps the universe as a noble emblem of our young and invincible nation. But alter all, which looks most majestic, that bird all rumpled and fussy, with its plumage torn and bloody after a scuffle, or to see it calm and peaceful, its breast streaked with prosperity and happiness, its head among the stars, and half hiding its useless arrows beneath a sprig of olive.

“Depend upon it, (Gincral you’re not a fillin your rummer) depend upon it that peace is one of the very reatest national blessings. Depend upon it ose who cry up win; are those who find their account in fishing in troubled water. Depend upon it that when you come to strike the balance of profit and lossin the nation’s account current with war, you’ll find nation on the debt side. Depend upon it the. fruit you’ll reap frein a bloody seed time, is the impeding of the arts and manufactures—the hindering of knowledge from going ahead—the leading of the people into ideas of'extravagance and perilous peculation~the draining of the Treasurv -—and the bequeathing to your children enornimis debt, which their government being saddled with, it will, like an overloaded coach that comes to a bit of'a ruck, jerk, \raggle and capsizc.” In great haste to save post, dcar'Tom, yours, SA)! SLICK.

antenna): For: “roexcsa sons.” (Flora the London Colonial Gazette.)

The actual social condition of England presents a feature which, in degree at least, has no parallel in the history of nations. The numerical pro ortion which the wealthy class bears to the era is

ater than ever existed in any country before.

is happens because what may be termed the sur- plus production of our highly-skilled industry, or that portion of the produce which exceeds the wants of the producers—the “ dis osable” wealth of the nation, 3 it is termed by r. Chalmers—is so very much larger than in any other country of past or present times. But this fommute class is not ex- 'empt from suffering: like the labouring poor, and the class of small capitalists or proprietors, its mem~ bers increase faster than the share of national in- come which forms their means of subsistence. The fund, however, which legislation had set apart for them, in addition to what they derived from the natural operation of the laws of political economy,

\

has been diminished of late years ; 1831mm} and state expenditure have been far less; so that it has been more difficult to provide out of the public purse for the younger children of the aristociacy- What with the increase of, numbers on the one hand and the decrease of the public purse on the other, this class suffers as much in proportion to its acquired wants as any other order in the communi- ty. ' Those of both sexes who compose it, exceptng eldest sons, who generally get the bulk of the family property, are in great numbers,- at all events, con- demned to celibacy, and to a miserable dependence on the crumbs that fall ham :1 rich relation’s table.

It often happens that the incpme of the son or daughter of a great proprietor is less than that of their father’s or eldest brother’s butler. There are no monasteries or convents now to dispose of, these incumbrances to family pride ; and the public purse, let us repeat, no longer suflices for supporting in comfort half of those who have been brought up with the hope of living upon it. Many, no doubt, still obtain a provision by marriage With new wealth, or at the public expense ; and it now and then hap- pens that the younger son of a man of rank and. for- tune engages successfully in the severe competition of the bar. But these are exceptions: the general nile, for daughters as well as sons, is a most u'ncom. fortable state of existence. Between those among them who grow sour and envious by abstaining from marriage, or those who incur the wretchedness of having children without means to support them, there is not much choice of situation. lfwe could look into the breasts of the aristocratic poor, we should think them scarcely less to be pitied than the pauper herd. ‘ '

Then why, it may be asked, do not the young men of" this class, in order to escape the unhappiness that otherwise awaits them, engage in commerce like the cadets of former days? The answer is, that in for- mer days, when the ordinary profits of capital were much higher than at present, commerce was a safe pursuit, and one in which attention and common prudence were sufficient for growing rich With 'a moderate original stock; whereas now the competi- tiou of capital with capital in a limited field has so diminished the ordinary profits of capital, that those who increase a small original stock are rare excep- tions from the general rule, while the usual position of small capitalists is the verge of bankruptcy. Trade, therefore, or the active employment of capital, is a most unsuitable occupation for young men not brought up to habits of business. That is, the employment of capital in this country of over-abounding wealth. But in the Colonies, where the ordinary profits of capital are so large, any body may make money with common industry and care. This is illustrated by the great value of labour in the Colonies. An inferior London tailor emigrating to New South Wales, gets double or tre- ble his old wages—as a shepherd. It matters not what sort he be, so that the applicant for hire have hands to work'. With capital, in like manner, all pursuits are profitable; and the original stock grows continually, notwithstanding its owner’s want of ex- perience and judgment, if he have but common pru- dence and energy. In many colonies any young men having these two last qualities may be almost sure of making a fortune out of the usual pittance of a “younger son.” And then the adventure and en- terprise of colonizing invests this mode of acquiring independence with a character of manliness, not to say of romance and dignity, which renders it suits.- ble to a class who would be ashamed ta'engage in vulgar trade at home. Finally, this mode of escape from the miseries of youngersondii home has historical recommendations of no little weight: in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuriesit was the common resource of the class in question, who in- deedfoimdéd the greater part of the old colonies of England. The ancient spirit of colonizing has re- cently revived among them. Just in pro nation as it gains strength and extension will their lot in the world be improved.

INTEMPERANCE IN RUSSiA.—Neai'ly a fourth part of the revenue of Russia is derived from the sale of spirits. This sale is kept entirely in the hands of the imperial government. The out-spread Wings of the Russian Eagle are over the door of every gin shop in every village throughout that vast empire. Brandy is the only spirit of which travellers make mention. Mr. Pinkerton calculates that “the enor- mous quantity of eighty-two millions of gallons of bra‘hdy alone are drank every year by the peasantry of that empire.” The population being over sixty millions, it amounts to one gallon and a third for each person.

AcEs or GREAT MEN.—It isa curious fact, that Mahomed Ali, Napoleon Buonaparte, and the Duke of Wellington, were all born in the same year.

Sia ,FnANCis Ciurwnnm—In giving evidence recently in the case of Carew, v. the Executors of the Earl of Egreinont, this eminent sculptor stated some facts relative to his own personal history, which cannot fail to interest and encourage artists who practice so honourable but hazardous a branch of the profession—He said his age was either 54 or 56; he came to London in 1802, and begun to la- bour at sculpture ; he never worked for any other-sculptor, and never had an hour’s instruction from any sculptor in his life; he established a studio as soon as he could afford it—that was eight years after he entered the metropolis—and during those years he never made £5 by his profession. The bust by which he first got his reputation, be made for nothing—it was a'bust of Home Tooke; it went to the exhibition in model, for neither Horne Tooke nor he could afford to make it in marble; he got £12,000 worth of commissions by that bust at the exhibition ; “ so that,” adds the admirable artist and high-minded gentleman, “ you see how uncertain the rise of a sculptor is.”

James THE Fiasr AND THE MAYOR or LONDON.— A good story is related of James the First and one of the Lord Mayors, in reference to the prosperity of the twin cities, and which, for its happy quiet laiidation of the Thames, it would be unpardonable to omit. James being in want of twenty thousand pounds, applied to the corporation of London for a loan of that sum. The corporation refused, upon which the king, in high dudgeon, sent for the Lord Mayor and some of the alderinen, and rating them in severe terms for their disloyalty, insisted upon their raising the money for him. “Please your majesty,” said the Lord Mayor, “we cannot lend you‘what we have not got.” “You must get it,” replied the king. “We cannot,” replied the Lord Mayor.—“ I’ll compel you,” rejoined the king. “ But you cannot compel us,” retorted the Lord Mayor.. “No!” exclaimed the king; “ then I’ll ruin your city for ever. I’ll make a desert of Westminster. I’ll remove in courts of law, my parliament and my court to ork or to Oxford and then what will become of you .9” “ Please ’your majesty,” rejoined the Lord Mayor, meekly, “ you may remove yourself and your courts wherever you may please ; but there will always be thi consola- tion for the poor merchants of LondonLyou cannot

' V . Sam son Brats—7a Bems'Merks 4,322 gficflgm¥$arlo§r of this little habltatlglll‘l: is theseasoningsss... ger who takes the w m. _ rovemem’ for it is his coat sleeve—much to its imp . th dam of ei dirt ——in this parlour Window, in e y ils'gccupiition by Sampson Brass, thlere hunghplll awry and slack, and discoloured by t n: sun, a 'ce tain of faded green, so tlireadbtqli: fl‘izl‘t‘l, :fnghieil'ytifle us to intercept v ' . dihyrrdginljlbiit rather to afi'orda favourable Ip‘iedium through which to observe it accurately. lere was not much to look at. A rickety table, Wlltl spare bundles of papers, yellow‘and ragged from Oéigfca; riage in the pocket, ostentatiously displaye to its top; acouple of stools set face to face on. oppo- site sides of'tliis crazy piece of furniture ; a treache- rous old chair by the fire—place, whose Withered arms had hugged full many a client and helpeal to squeeze him dry; a second-hand Wig-box, use as a depository for blank writs and declarations, an other small forms of law, once the sole contents of the head which belonged to the Wig which belong- ed to the box, as they were now of_ the box itself ; two or three common books of practice, a jar of ink, a pounce-box, a stunted hearth-broom, a carpet trod— den to shreds, but still clinging With the tightness of desperation to its tacks—these, with the yellow Wainscot of the walls, the smoke-discoloured cod- ing, the dust and cobwebs, were among the most prominent decorations of the office of Mr. Sampson Brass—.Masmr Humphrey’s Clock.

A LETTER or REC OMMENDATiON.—\Vhen Dr. Franklin was Minister of the United States in France, he was often importuned by persons un- known to him to give them letters of recommenda- tion. For cases of this kind, and when it was im- possible to refuse, he prepared the following model, and, in some instances, actually employed it to shame persons making such indiscreet applications, and in some measure to stop them :_—

"‘_ Paris, April —,1777. “ Sir; The bearer, griing to the United States, presses me to give him a letter of recommendation, although I know nothing of him, not even his name. This may seem extraordinary, butl assure you it is not uncommon here. Sometimes, indeed, one person unknown brings another equally so to recommend him; and sometimes they recommend one another. As for this gentlemen, I must refer you to himself for his character and morals, with which he is certainly better acquainted than I pos- sibly can be. I recommend him, however, to those civililies which every stranger of whom we know no harm, has a right to; and I request you will do him all the good offices and show him all the favoui that on furllier acquaintance you will find him deserve—I have the honour to be, &c.” ’ PRINTEas’ Tours—The following toasts were lately drunk at the Printers’ Commemorative Festi- val, at Boston, United States. Printers—intellectual smelters, who receive the dross of their labour, while the world gets the metal—Editors—the loco- motives of society; nothing can go ahead without them. Bookbindcrs—the best of executioners, with— out whose skill no author’s work would hang together. Newspapers—the intellectual spring into which everybody (lips his bucket, whilst few thank the foiuitain for its supply. ‘

NOVA SCOTIA.

The following Address to Hi Excellency Lord

Falkland, , Lieutenant Governor of Nova Scotia,

signed by thirteen hundred inhabitants of Halifax,

was presented to His Excellency bya Committee appointed for that purpose, on the 21st ult.

To His Excellency the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Falkland, lieutenant Governor in and our Her Ma— jesty's Province of Abra-Scone and its Dependencies, (SI-c. &6. £36.

WE the undersigned Freeholders of the Town and County of Halifax, cheerfully avail ourselves of the first suitable opportunity, since your Lordship assumed the Government of this Province, to bid you welcome to Nova Scotia, and to assure you of the satisfaction we feel that the administration of our affairs has been confided toa Nobleman of your Lordsliip’s distinguished rank, talents and expe- rience.

Whatever differences of opinion may exist in Nova Scotia, as in the Mother Country, upon pol- itical questions, your Lordship will find one all- pervading feeling of'loyalty and attachment to Her Majesty’s Person and Government, and a strong desn'e for a perpetual union with our brethren at home, under kindred Institutions, favourable to rational liheity, and havinga broad foundation in public confidence. ‘

_ Your Lordship’s long connexion with those dis- tinguished Statesmen to whom the British Islands are so largely indebted for the extension of political and municipal rights, and the amelioration and improvement of their Institutions, leads us to antici- pate that your best exertions will be used to extend their prinCiples and practice to the Colony now placed under your command. Our fervent hope is, that your Lordship may succeed in establishino

a strong administration, carefully guarding ch

Queen’s prerogative while consulting the interests

and opinions of the People; and that the sound

principles of Colonial Government, announced by

Her Majesty’s Ministers, may, by your firmness and

discretion, be peacefully developed and generally

recognized in this Province.

n e we Wisi your Lordshi and our ' lady, much happiness during youIii’residdlnce aziiincihgis: us, We assure you that we shall be proud 011%.“ proper occaSions, to strengthen your hands had to give a cordial support to your government. ,

His Lordship delivered the following reply:

GENTLEMEN'——I beg to thank . . .' you for the ad- diess With which you have so kindly greeted my Letum fi‘om an excursmn, in the course of which I ave been strongly impressed by the beauty of the country I have v1s1ted, and its capability of'iinprove- zinept; while I have been everywhere deeply grati- ilpéusltiy rmiaiespectihble deineanour, orderly and ions its an a arentl e ' ' ' th? people. , pp y asy condition of

t is most satisfactory to me on assi '

. 1mm the government of N ova Scotia, to, receive frougi all gpgrters the assurance, that, even amidst those

_i derences which naturally spring up during pe- riors of excitement, arising out of the conflict of pg‘itical opinions, a feeling of devoted loyalty and a lection for the Queen’s person and authority, con- .{glélfig‘ w1th_ pl strong desire for the perpetuation of

ion Wit reat Britain has cogmunity. ‘ , ever pervaded the hese sentiments I have i

_ . a command from m oyeieign, to do my utmost to foster and encouragd’ $11 _ I know not a more direct means of fulfilling her wqjelsty s beneficent will, than by endeavouring (em) 6 jealously guarding that prerogative, the ex- h 1811?;33110211118 been entrusted to ine,) to act in arm 1 t e ' ’ ’ Wishes and feelings of the people,

whenever such a con I _ _ rse shall be com atib ' their real interests, and the relative p e wnh

lake the Thimws along with you.