The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-12-04 00:00:00

16 1 Ngre, k e g and twenty acres of land. Strange kt " the donation with thankfulness and S: 4l his way, preaching and singing as he 1 6 , 1k 4t But after a few months he returned, and N e e d, his generous friend to take back the li h e 't• Surprised at the request, the gentle 'i nuired_ 1 'i: there any flaw in it ?"—"Not the slightest." ' 1 the land not good ?"—" First-rate." c %.'t • a ; ? a, ~ 4 11,, it healthy . None more so." ii ii i ' l lY, then, d o you wish me to take it back? , 'W u e a comfortable home for you when you ,itl ? )li i d , and something for your wife and chil f`'Wdrou should be taken away." 1 59', I'll tell you. Ever since I've lost my Nmeat i n singing, I can't sing my favourite 4atOitn a good conscience any longer." i s that 0 441.' V 57 ZNro foot of land do I possess, " 0 cottage in the wilderness, , A poor wayfaring man. 1 fi C I dwell a while in tents below, v A' gladly wander to and fro, 'Till I may Canaan gain. C C Yondee a my house and portion fair, t. My treasure y abiding an h and m , p h. Ad m '"were !" said Strange. my heart are there, " I'd rather sing that than own America. I'll trust the Lord to car e of my wife and children." continued singing and preaching, and ping and s i ng i ng ; an d the Lord, said the per, ,clid take care of him and his children , hi AT 1 m * -I 'ew York Telegraph. li r`l', wb"( TELE DISCONTENTED VIOLETS. AN ALLEGORY. '"viol' 1 t ; tki e liolets, beautiful, modest flowrets, once on 1 Y long, long ago, became foolish and dis ki ti t k tt e ed. They sent up a petition to their 4 t,ki and mother, the Fair Queen. " How 'et. aid they, petulantly, "are we doomed to 4t:Y tti lltider our leaves, and bend beneath the *aes that clings to the roots of the trees. Ate hot as worthy to show our faces and assert ‘ ,le4ilt 4 e/ice as yon gaudy tulip, or that upright k t lie p ?" kp h -airy Queen sent her foreign ambassador tvease her discontented subjects. He flew earth in a drop of rain, and cried to the i e 4 (l violets, "Be assured you are more lovely t t 4it teresting in your humble, unassuming % th an you can possibly be in one more t ‘tite . Your constitution will not admit of any 4 . in. your condition. Who ever heard of a 04tring violet 7" ki i n ti . for that very reason," they all exclaimed, 0 eo tugh time we assumed a more important .„!l Att Ilepicuous position in the flower world. O:e been secluded long enough. We feel as (Nient to hold up our heads as others. It is c4t ri bondage to conceal any longer our purple -5,114,1' blossoms. Give us freedom ; let us see 6 1 e ' b i l S, and be seen." N n - v airy Queen frowned and sighed, and rode Si, v i l a sunbeam to punish her disaffected sub kt e t ,:`,Oh, my children," she exclaimed, " be k,,, V It is too late ; you are altogether.unfitted Oee Position you seek. Be happy, be con -01,,, Thousands of happy violets have Il i s Pe e ,l, `"lig the moss and leaves, playing merry Y,lti l l" with the gentle summer zephyr and li : 11 'e? sunbeams. What sweeter life could you Oe t . ) , it is far better you, should attract the itli e s'Y to search for your sweet blossoms ~,Ot it , e 4l ll l°, . ft perfume you shed around, than if you til k -. tet e l tll in the face at every corner, your un t %, 'L odours rudely dispersed by every wind 1,, wee.,, e , 04t e ,._1-' by. I will grant your request, nay " but, alas ! it will be a fatal one for :gde' ier Al 6° o 5 ,e 9 l you. No longer shall the village children, as they come from school, loiter in the lanes, to smell the pleasant scent of spring violets, and laugh for joy when they spy the blue flowrets * lurking behind the broad sheltering leaves. No longer shall the weary denizen of the hot dusty city inhale gratefully your perfumed breath on a spring Sabbath, as he strays through the hedge rows. No more shall the eager lover search for you in your green hiding-places, to lay you on his mistress's bosom, and call her modest and ex quisite as yourselves. Never again shall the duteous child with anxious eyes look diligently for the odorous buds that will call a grateful smile from the lips of a dying mother, as she wanders back in memory to the hours passed away, when she, light-hearted, young, and strong, ran to the well-known bank where the fairest violets were found. No more—but it is enough, you will prove for yourselves the truth." She folded her wings, and drooped her head, as she slowly returned her bright chariot to Fairyland. The prayer was granted. The violets suddenly started up, tall and aspiring, upon straight high stalks, and braved the full heat of the sun. They were glorified for a brief space, but soon the bright beams that danced in their eyes dazzled and confused them. They longed for one leaf to soften the intensity of the rays, but low at their feet were these sweet. veils. A few repentant flowers strove to stoop to the old and pleasant couch where they had oft reclined in shady ease ; their slender stems snapped in the effort, and they lay broken and lifeless on the earth. Nor were their proud companions more fortunate. One hour scorched with heat, the next shivering in the rough approaches of the varying wind, their delicate colour faded, their fresh liquid beauty fled : pale, scentless blossoms only remained, the jest of the flower world. Rosy tulips flushed deeper with scorn, and the full sweet rose looked anxious and displeased. Even the bees, as they wandered by, called no more to sing the sweet flattery of old in their ears, but passed on without recognition, to other fair blossoms, and their small voices seemed to chant a solemn reproof. The sweet primroses and buttercups mourned for their old friends, and sighed for the olden days of happy companionship. And the poor violet, the flower of modesty, became a byword and a laughing stock. Quickly this foolish generation became few in number, and faded in beauty. One by one drooped, broken-hearted, and all their high ambitious aspirings were quenched in cold death. At last but two remained, poor broken monu ments upon the graves of their companions. The pitying wind heard their despairing sighs, and bore them tenderly and faithfully to Fairyland. "Go, tell them," said the Fairy Queen, "their punishment is severe, but merited. Yet, before those survivors die, bear a message of forgiveness and hope. Their own doom is sealed ; their un happy days are numbered, but from their ashes shall arise a happier race. Bright, blue, and sweet, shall be their children's faces. No traces shall they inherit of their progenitors' weaknesses and misfortunes. My love shall make them beautiful and blest." The soft wind whispered these sweet words in the ears of the unhappy violets. " We die content," they murmured, " but hear, sweet zephyr, our last request, receive our legacy. When our sweet representatives shall bloom in the future spring -times, to you, oh ! breeze, we intrust this solemn charge : Tell them our mournful story. Let them have the benefit of our bitter experience, that they may learn their chief happiness and only security is in humility. If ever they confide to you a wish, a fancy that reminds you of our fatal mistake, bear it far away, oh ! breeze, upon your wings, and instil instead the sweet spirit of content and lowliness: Thus, in your voice, we, though silent, shall ever speak, and our old friendship shall be a pledge for your faithful guatdianship." " It shall," sighed the breeze sadly : " Fare well !" and he hid his face. When he looked up, he chanted a wild dirge of sorrow over the graves of the dead violets. HERALDRY AND HERALDS' COLLEGE. THE house in which these artists in the decora tion of our personal vanity live, consists of a not very extensive quadrangle. It should be much more so ; and that it is not—being the residence and place of office of three kings—Garter, Clarencieux, and Norroy ; of six heralds, Lan caster, Somerset, Richmond, Windsor, York, and Gloucester ; and of four pursuivants, Rouge Croix, Blue Mantle, Portcullis, and Rouge Dragon—we may reasonably suppose that some of these regal personages sleep out of town. But even if it is not large,• it is curious. It has its bell-shaped archway, which in Sir William Dug dale's time was considered quite a wonder. It has its antiquities and its great men connected with it ; and upon a sunny summer day, a stroll up Bennet's-hill from the noisy Thames-street, where coal waggons and grain carts are plunging, is well repaid by a glance round the quite colle giate place, the entrance of which is the bell shaped arch aforesaid. On the right of the visitor, as he enters, is the Earl Marshal's office, wherein Courts of Chivalry were held, to which courts, in times gone past, people who bore the arms and ensigns which did not belong to them, were summoned and fined. The Earl Marshal's office is a large room, with a black, oaken panelling, an immense chair of state, and with a square space in the centre of the room, railed off something after the fashion of the spaces around which, in our churches, the communicants kneel. A large and long table in the centre used formerly to be occupied by the pursuivants and inferior heralds, whilst the Earl Marshal occupied the chair, and the Kings of the College sat at his feet. Outside the rail stood the Commonalty, and the person cited ; and if he had unjustly assumed arms, his shield was, by the hands of the Earl Marshal's men, reversed, and the bearings obliterated. Verily, if such were now the custom, many of those for whom Mr. Smalt " finds" arms would be summoned and exposed. The last cause concerning the right bearing of arms is now of old date, being of the year 1720 (that between Blount and Blunt) ; the most known, that between the Scrope and Grosvenor families in the reign of Richard 11. ; a trial whereat the poet Chaucer bore witness. The most weighty cause which could come before this Earl Marshal's court, was that of degradation from knighthood ; but this was so seldom called into requisition, that only three instances are recorded : Sir Andrew Hanlay, 1322 ; Sir Ralph Grey, 1464 ;. and Sir Francis Michell, 1621. With the degradation of a knight, any one who has read Sir Walter Scott, who was himself no contemptible herald, is familiar. The real scene is not very different from the fictitious one, as the following, which we gather from Noble's " History of the College of Arms," will attest :—" On Wednesday, June 20th, 1621, Sir Francis Michell being brought into court and there set upon a standing for that purpose, the Somerset herald read these words Be it known to all men that Sir Francis Michell, knight, for certain heinous offences by him committed, was thought worthy to be degraded of his honour by sentence of Parliament.' " There is somewhat more said to the same effect; his gilt " spurres;" emblems t ot , '''vfl3Eit 4, 1855 SUPPLEMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD 195