The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-10-09 00:00:00

94!1‘451/ZEL''etol 1855.] As i • tlltom. Irtur., t is witt a v.NciAL DIALECTS. _ When Burns withAi;truurello, SO with language : he t'ria:o4"erYiiilteisi)°ric, he is every inch tr • but when ,h, to v g i te . ..e W rites is truest poetry., Y fall ' s into slip s''' °ornok. 14 c ockn English, 'he • the gentle that e" 41401 itabt*. Th ey of a ell pr • ' lift th a Pital • r b l '-t to theier language as that u" ex t ov • -as ashamed at t eths of si inolaiistrt be soon as they growsthe little excrescence it, e shibbo eon and ataitall OnlycZne ZarTnuelr b r v , those a who l h is e -e the t o e n stof trtT!tiOcatior 4,..re accounted by it rl qht s de2 ;tvery provincialism of Cockney sdialect the ances ; and a ll iwtio wovrlY rooted in the history of languageissimply . 1 44? °rant p r i g, t/estroy these differ f enz eration, Attl te to 13`;, g' W lthout the bump ' 3 . erpet a u l a ul l lee Do eito r o r r ohde in the infernal regions a n p ot sell a 14 47 elia l t, some P honetic News which . ‘',,tit r Zi tt divinee!' 'I have always thought the e . a co o n . 11 confusion oGn God Y kt th - 4 114 1 t Protest against centralizati r o ep , d lenish tbe ,44,41i0t tol I.aerease and multiply a a l few spots in it .0„..e:1te11.441,;! himself iu sw h ar r in ,s s b o a n cks and tramplin o g f ,ilezitt‘tioert,tiZtpoevieer eiawhaott What a e miserable caricatureof odious 7 1 0 ,. 4 e i tt, To„ a ° that first French Revolution .4,4,14444e,e4tre`400fil rian his own wretched carcasswa to s d he himself supposed, th.ing I Q b e . eer I ,pallthings, and state. Ever3 things ster.e .a,_. -ro„ a .,art of a cer4ra ' 44 P l 3' (),amer•off and simplified, but inany "Red because they had been old. Isz ttu t e li r.., LONDON. spite of man. I .. ° tlt 0;4 totedelf will have her way in . • i°l i ,, - the on ',,". every body was for crowding into it t ° l '4 4 - I . e t., ii v . e llt . ry , , nd the consequence is . it has grown ,3 1441* In. It has become hollow in the middle, atit,.,:treki ants fiy from its centre at night, and live i 'et_seetiettel—,the sub bats A very general . _feeling o rs f foiea `u th e . I .° oe gaining ground that if the Londoners Vtiqk ,2t can they will soon have no water 4t, 44 14 1 1 1 1 411 as no air to breathe. If poor old Father tli tl 4 3 h e ,8 an y Spirit left, poisoned as he has been for l' tio-celicl be the first to protest against centralisa s.,obi:Ok th You recollect the panic among the Londoners p the deep snow last winter, amply fomented by i (it etit Nes? The coal was to fail and all the gas to I , , t ,he„itzid two millions of people to be left subject to one t i .!lfi 4',_ttgues of Egpyt—a darkness which might be felt. th 74 444 4,1 th; one of the effects of centralisation. I appre tr4ti43:iefe? People now live in London without some eoato4l oread of some enormous evil far worse than tot tlh i , o t:llittiof Babylon —such as might in some sense .d a u el yt. , t t Re.2' :Moment, vv'ha t ---, tt,-.rall - •• ' . • h people bring on t i iil t m y. ei r Y eNils which under the roviso that ju g r? iii V-o+oll f ;.- Retitle judgment folly that e n .iti n :4 lY 4, 1 4 wickedness, t. Jr it3'-f-011•064 L,Ol-18.4es was I Will a ' world which has ofthe and All s -p tu o p we d rful rim estilence, I ...4 i ' e ; 'l o e r r o e ut to r th ll t be again so tenderly reprimanded • anded ? d ill g in that vague dread VNib. t he .witr2.l-kness P Has not London ') already p hneegar 4ato all th.e.'ng of tongues P—for do te t4 e ti ti lloi t 's le,treetisaplaguages and half the we dialects of tt tlt? t tt 'Nue" concludes with the finishing . chap -8 the the c tory of the Campaign, written in a it ts e siep NAea.." They describe the progress_ Nt li i the battle of the Traktir Bridge, and '44 ki the an] The writer of this in 111' 10 4arrative is Major Bruce Hamlet', well 0,44,4 his ••• th ,, ood „8 delightful tale of ~ Lady Lees's t k,7 et t „,' and the publication of this " Story 440 e, -.Taiga of Sebastopol" in a separate en thioe,4l,th coloured illustrations, has be °Y Messrs. Blackwoods. Oil, ,27-2-E 13017 LOVER; 04 4.11 LAST "DE 130UFFLERS." Ilt P 4,1 ,4 ........--...._ !111 . te.' hoel;:konday, in the year 171 1, Louis h-okiati_ll enzad passed the greater part of the NI; apie'Parative privacy, announced that he . ft I N lifa to 4 grand reception at Versailles. It is be %V Bar that, from the vestibule to the th tilti ltschse 1- e t t i eti gallery, At : ant 4„, crowds were assembled. R N , 4 ,1) °t an gle of the great salon might be seen deb their 1 yours and beautiful women, who, t4teoselcielt iii4illeghtfr and easy gesture, it was evi -1 bidet fr ot that chillig etiquette which t 1 of e ,, e je the rest of the assembly. In Irb, ettllt ‘..ui r k 3', b lit 8 ' and pre-eminent, not only for 44.44441 the Queen -like majesty of her air, e 6 ts, 4 1e • ,' t,. Cerets, a widow at twenty ninerited the vast fortune of the old SUPPLEMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. Duke of that name, and was now one of the ladies in waiting on the Duchesse de Burgogne. A certain tone of raillery seemed to pervade this little knot, and as they laughed with that piquante malice so essentially French, a new figure seemed to emerge from the group, upon whose boyish features the others gazed with a tender interest. A kind of half-resemblance was traceable between the features of the lovely Duchess and the youth. A strong family likeness might be seen about the dark and deeply-set blue eyes, while between intimacy, that there seemed to exist a kind of that for a moment one might be tempted to be lieve they were brother and sister. Had any one, however, indulged this notion, he would have been quickly undeceived, as a page, in the uniform of the Court, approached the group with hasty gestures, and asked in a loud tone— " Where is Monsieur le Marquis de Boufflers ? Ah ! Monsieur, what are' you doing there ? his Majesty is coming, and your father the Marechal is looking for you everywhere." At the same instant the group opened, and a youth of about fifteen years, dressed with a rare elegance, made his appearance, vainly endeavour ing to conceal the womanly beauty of his features by assuming the martial air of a Mousquelaire. Before following the page he stepped in front of the Duchess, and taking her hand carried it to his lips with enthusiasm, while he added— "Au revoir, my lovely cousin. You have amused yourself pleasantly at my cost this even ing ; but, on my honour, before long I shall prove to you that I am a man." A faint titter of laughter broke from the group at these words, while a tall, dark, and handsome man, with a disdainful and severe expression of feature, replied in a voice that might be heard throughout the entire salon— " What a droll little fellow with his airs of gallantry already ; for my part, I should recom mend a flogging for such precocious intellect." The young BOuillers, who was leaving the room, at the moment these cruel words met his ears, stopped suddenly short, and wheeled completely round, so as to face the speaker, placing his plumed cap upon his head, and carrying his hand round to the hilt of the harmless sword that dangled at his side, as he shot upon him a look of proud defiance ; but at the same moment the wide folding-doors were flung open, and the solemn voice of the usher in waiting proclaimed, " the King." As if by magic, the whole assem blage became suddenly mute, and a double rank round the four sides of the apartment bowed deeply before the monarch. In the middle of the open space, however, still stood the young Boufflers : in the height of his passion he saw nothing of what was taking place, and there he remained, his hand upon his sword-guard, and the same menace upon his features, while every one made signs for him to uncover. The King looked ' round, and as rapidly his dark brows contracted to a frown ; the ominous look that boded an outbreak of passion was well known, and a fly might have been heard at that moment, had he buzzed across the great salon of Versailles. His Majesty walked straight towards the boy, and, with a harsh voice, cried out— " What's this ? who are you ? what are you doing here ? your hat off, sir, your hat off." The boy who, for the first time in his life, found himself in presence of that King before whom not even the members of the Royal Family dared to raise their voice, blushed to the very white of his eyes ; and while he obeyed the Royal com mand, stammered out a few inarticulate words, looking on every side for some expression of com fort or succour, hut none were bold enough to offer themselves as a holocaust to the terrible passion of Louis XIV., and bad the collective 131 opinions of that assembly been taken, an unani mous vote would have decided, that he was a young gentleman who, during the King's lifetime, would never make his fortune. So stood matters, when the old Marechal de Roufflers, having in vain sought his son on every side, heard what had occurred, and passing across the room knelt before the King. " Sire," said he, " deign to excuse this boy, he is my son ; the Rev. Jesuit Fathers, with whom he is still at school, know little of the usages of a court. Ah, Sire, it was but this very day I had hoped to present him to your Majesty—pardon him, I beseech you." " So," said the King, somewhat softened in manner, "he is your son. Ah, come, Monsieur Marechal, I must beg Father Tellier to scold, in my name, their Reverences, who seem to pay very little attention to etiquette among their scholars. Then turning to the youth, and fixing his eyes on him, he added—" Do you know, Monsieur le Marechal, that your son reminds me very much of Monsieur de Lauzan ; I think I see him before me as on the very first evening I ever met him at Madame de Soisson's, and that is now, let me see, alas ! some fifty years ago." "Ah ! Sire," cried the young Boufflers, with enthusiasm, " I would at least resemble Monsieur de Lauzan in one point—his ardent devotion to the person of your Majesty." The King, whose anger appeared to have com pletely passed away, seemed charmed with this repartee. " What !" cried he, as he tapped him lightly on the cheek, " a courtier already. Come, come, the worthy Jesuits have not done him as much injustice as I thought. My child," con tinued he, with a voice of winning softness, " you have no need to go beyond the limits of your own family for noble example for your imitation. For my own part, I humbly pray God that He may give your father and myself years enough to wit ness the first steps of your career. It is easy to see you have the Grammont blood in your veins— they were all handsome." At this moment every eye was turned to the lovely Duchesse de Saint Cerets, who was herself a Grammont, and who blushed deeply at this silent homage. " But that is not all," said the King, "a man must be brave and faithful too ; do you mark me ? can you promise to be both of these ?" " Sire, said the boy with energy, is Boufflers," " my name " Gentlemen," said the. King, " three years since Mon s i eur Boufflers. defended Lill e for four months against the Prince Eugene., Two years ago he saved th e army o f Malplacquk for which I created him Duke and Peer of , Yriince, and Go vernor-General of the provinee of Flanders. At last the hour of repose is come both for him and for me ; the camp is but little suited now to either of us. I know there are many amongst you well worthy to be his successor, but I have a supersti tion that certain names carry good fortune along with them, and certainly that of Boufliers does ; wherefore, I name him Governor-General of Flan ders, and Governor of Lille, and to his son in succession the same dignities after him." With these words the King kissed the boy on the forehead, and moved on, conversing in a low tone with the old Marechal, who never since the celebrated camp of Compeigne, when he had the distinguished honour to ruin himself by entertain ing the Royal Family, appeared in such high favour in court. Scarcely had the King left the salon, when the young Boufflers crossed the room with a firm step, and touching the sleeve of a tall, proud looking personage, he said— " Monsieur le Due de Coigny, I have a word for you." ~;.