The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1856-02-26 00:00:00

lORD GEORGE GORDON'S RIOTS.

When I was a lad, I recollect seeing a whole cartful of young
girls, in dresses of various colours, on their way to be executed
at Tyburn. They had all been condemned, on one indictment,
for having been concerned in (that is, perhaps, for having been
spectators or) the burning of some houses during Lord George
Gordon's riots. It was quite horrible.—Greville was present
at one of the trials consequent on those riots, and heard several
boys sentenced, to their own excessive amazement, to be
hanged. "Never," said Greville with great nairet4" did I
see boys cry so."
Such scenes as the above were sufficient to arouse
the indignation and awake the pity of all right-minded
men, and were without doubt instrumental in bringing
about that reaction in pUblic sentiment which causes
the philanthropist in some degree to sympathise with
the criminal rather than with his victim.

Anecdotes of various quality form the staple of the
book ; and of these it may be, well to give a few
selected here and there, without any attempt at con-
tinuity or arrangement.

Of the Duke's (Wellington's) perfect coolness on the most
trying occasions, Colonel Gurwood gave me this instance. He
was once in great danger of being drowned at sea. It was
bed-time, When the captain of the vessel came to him, and
said, "It will soon be all over with us."—" Very well,"
answered the Duke, " then I shall not take off my boots."
It is curious how fashion changes pronunciation. In my
youth everybody said " Lonnon," not London :" Fox said
" Lonnon" to the last ; and so did Crowe. The now fashiona-
ble pronunciation of. several words is to me at least very offen-
sive : " contemplate" is bad enough ; but " balcony" makes
me sick.

To all letters soliciting his subscription to anything,
Erskine had a regular form of reply, viz., "Sir, I feel much
honoured by your application to me, and I beg to subscribe"—
here the-reader had to turn over the leaf, " myself your very
obedient servant," &c.
Humphrey Howarth, the surgeon, was called out, and made
his appearance in the field stark naked, to the astonishment
of the challenger, who asked him what he meant. " I know,"
said H., " that if any part of the clothing is carried into the
body by a gunshot wound, festering ensues ; and therefore I
have met you thus." His antagonist declared that fighting
with a man in puris naturalaus would be quite ridiculous ;
and accordingly they parted without further discussion.
Lord Alvanley, on returning home after his duel with young
O'Connell, gave a guinea to the hackney-coachman who had
driven him out and brought him back. The man, surprised
at the largeness of the sum, said, "My Lord, I only took you
to —," Alvanley interrupted him, " My friend, the guinea is
for bringing me back, not for taking me out."
Lord Seaforth, who was born deaf and dumb, was to dine
one day with Lord Melville. Just before the time of the com-
pany's arrival, Lady Melville sent into the drawing-room a
lady of her 'acquaintance, who could talk with her fingers to
dumb people, that she_ might receive Lord Seaforth. Pre-
sently Lord Guilford entered the room ; and the lady, taking
him for Lord Seaforth, began to ply her fingers very nimbly;
Lord Guilford did the same ; and they had been carrying on a
conversation in this manner for about ten minutes, when
Lady Melville joined them. Her female friend immediately
said, " Well, I have been talking away to this dumb man."—
" Dumb !" cried Lord Guilford ; " bless me, I thought you
were dumb?' I told this story (which is perfectly true) to
Mathews; and he said that he could make an excellent use of
it at one of his evening entertainments ; but I know not if
ever he did.

A friend of mine in Portland-place has a wife who inflicts
upon him every season two or three immense evening parties.
At one of those parties he was standing in a very forlorn con-
dition, leaning against the chimney piece, when a gentleman,
coming up to him, said, " Sir, as neither of us is acquainted
with any of the people here, I think we had best go home."

In this volume, Mr. Rogers and his friends, through
the instrumentality of the reporting editor, are made
to tell a good deal of what they know concerning every-
body who is or has been anybody.

I once dined at Mr. Stone's (at Hackney) with Fox, Sheridan,
Talleyrand, Madame de Geniis, Pamela, and some other cele-
brated persons of the time. A natural sou of Fox, a dumb
boy (who was the very image of his father, and who died a few
years after, when about the ageof fifteen) was also there, having
come, for the occasion, from Braidwood's Academy. To him
Fox almost entirely confined his attention, conversing with
him by the fingers ; and their eyes glistened as they looked at
each other. Talleyrand remarked to me, "how strange it was,
to dine in -company with the first orator in Europe, and only
see him talk with his fingers !"—That day I offended Madame
de Genlis by praising the "Contes Moraux" of Marmontel,
with whom she had quarrelled violently. At a dinner party,
where I was, Fox met Aikin. "I am greatly pleased with
your Miscellaneous Pieces,' Mr. Aikin," said Fox (alluding to
the volume written partly by Aikin, and partly by his sister,
Mrs. Barbauld).— Aikin bowed.—" I particularly admire," con-
tinued Fox, " your essay Against Inconsistency in our Ex-
pectations.' " That," replied Aikin, "is my sister's."—" I
like much," resumed Fox, " your essay ' On Monastic Institu-
tions.' "—" That," answered Aikin, "is also my sister's." Fox
thought it best to say no more about the book. I was present
at a dinner-party given by William Smith in Westminster,
when Fox would not take the slightest notice of Horne Tooke,
—would not look at him, nor seem to hear any of the good
things he said. .It was the most painful scene of the kind I
was ever witness to, except what occurred at my own house,
when the Duke of Wellington treated Lord Holland much in
the same way.
The annexed anecdote of Horne Tooke is illustrative
in a high degree of the art of

- -
CURRYING WITH A POISONED COMB.
Tooke went to Italy as tutor to a young man of fortune, who
was subject to fits of insanity, and who consequently would
sometimes occasion much alarm at inns during the middle of
the night.—While residing at Genoa, they formed an acquaint-
ance with an Italian family of distinction, by whom they were
introduced to the best society of the place. Tooke attached
himself to a lady of great beauty, becoming her cavalier ser-
vente, and attending her everywhere. After some weeks, at a
large evening party, he was astonished to find that the lady
would not speak to him, and that the rest of the company
avoided conversation with him. " Now," said Tooke, " what
do you imagine was the cause of this ? Why, they had dis-
covered that I was a Protestant clergyman ! But I was re-
solved not to be brow-beaten ; and I made myself so agreeable,
that, before the party broke up, we were all again on the very
best terms ; some of them even waited on me home, with
music, in a sort of triumph." Soon after Tooke had left Genoa,
he heard that another traveller, who was following the same
route, had been assassinated. This unfortunate traveller was
mistaken for Tooke, on whom, in consequence of his intrigue
with the lady at Genoa, the blow had been intended to fall.
As a matter of course, any such collection of anec-
dotes would be very imperfect without the introduction
of Royalty, and care has been taken to provide against
any such omission, as may be seen from the following

PORTRAIT OF THE DIME OP YORK.
The Duke of York told me that Dr. Cyril Jackson most
conscientiously did his duty as tutor to him and his brother,

the Prince of Wales. "Jackson," said the Duke, "used to
have a silver pencil-case in his hand while we were at our
lessons ; and he has frequently given us such knocks with it
upon our foreheads, that the blood followed them." I have
often heard the Duke relate how he and his brother George,
when young men, were robbed by footpads on Hay Hill.
They had dined that day at Devonshire House, had
then gone home to lay aside their court-dresses, and
afterwards proceeded to a house of a certain description
in the neighbourhood of Berkeley-square. They were re-
turning from it in a hackney coach, late at night, when
some footpads stopped them on Hay Hill, and carried off their
purses, watches, &c. In his earlier days, the Duke of York
was most exact in paying all his debts of honour. One night
at Brookes's, while he was playing at cards, he said to Lord
Thanet, who was about to go home to bed, " Lord Thanet, is our
betting still to continue?" "Yes, sir, certainly," was the re-
ply : and next morning Lord Thanet found £1,500 left for him
at Brookes's by the Duke. But gradually he became less par-
ticular in such matters ; and at last he would quietly pocket
the winnings of the night from Lord Robert Spencer, though
he owed Lord Robert about five thousand pounds. I have
several times stayed at Oatlands with the Duke and Duchess
of York—both of them most amiable and agreeable persons.
We were generally a company of about fifteen; and our being
invited to remain there ' another day' sometimes depended on
the ability of our royal host and hostess to raise sufficient
money for our entertainment. We used to have all sorts of
ridiculous "fun" as we roamed about the grounds. The
Duchess kept (besides a number of dogs, for which there was
a regular burial-place) a collection of monkeys, each of which
had its own pole, with a house at top. One of the visitors
(whose name I forget) would single out a particular monkey,
and play to it on the fiddle with such fury and perseverance,
that the poor animal, half-distracted, would at last take re-
fuge in the arms of Lord Alvanley. Monk Lewis was a great
favourite at Oaklands. One day' after dinner, as the Duchess
was leaving the room, she whispered something into Lewis's
ear. He was much affected, his eyes filling with tears. We
asked what was the matter. "Oh," replied Lewis, "the
Duchess spoke so very kindly to me !" My dear fellow,"
said Colonel Armstrong, " pray don't cry; I daresay she didn't
mean it."

If the Rogers portion of this volume be questionable
in its taste and teaching, that portion of it which relates
to Porson is utterly unjustifiable, if not even wicked.
The anecdotes related concerning this great scholar
are invariably of a character to detract from his fame.
His burly, strong, rough-and-ready common sense is
invariably contrasted with his besetting sin of-drunken-
ness—his scholarly attainments dashed by insinuations
of, poverty and squalor. As illustrations, take the
following

ANECDOTES OP PORSON.

He was generally ill dressed and dirty. But I never saw
him in such a figure as he was one day at Leigh and Southeby's
auction-room: he evidently had been rolling in the kennel;
and, on inquiry, I found that he was just come from a party
(at Robert Heathcote's, I believe), with whom he had been
sitting up drinking for two nights.
At one time he had some thoughts of taking orders, and
studied divinity for a year or two. " But," said he, " I found
that I should require about fifty years' reading to make my-
self thoroughly acquainted with it—to satisfy my mind on all
points; and therefore I gave it up. There are fellows who go
into a pulpit assuming everything, and knowing nothing : but
I would not do so."
__

He insisted that all men are born with abilities nearly
equal. " Any one," he would say, " might become quite as
good a critic as I am, if he would only take the trouble to make
himself so. I have made myself what lam by intense labour :
sometimes, in order to impress a thing upon my memory, I
have read it a dozen times, and transcribed it six."
Tooke used to say that "Porson would drink ink rather
than not drink at all." Indeed, he would drink anything.
He was sitting with a gentleman, after dinner, in the cham-
bers of a mutual friend, a Templar, who was then ill and
confined to bed. A servant came into the room, sent thither
by his master for a bottle of embrocation which was on the
chimney-piece. " I drank it an hour ago," said Porson.
Banks once invited Porson (about a year before his death) to
dine with him at an hotel at the west-end of London ; bat the
dinner passed away without the expected guest having made
his appearance. Afterwards, on Banks asking him why he
had not kept his engagement, Porson replied (without entering
into further particulars) that "he had come :" and Banks
could only conjecture that the waiters, seeing Porson's shabby
dress, and not knowing who he was, had offered him some
insult, which had made him indignantly return home.

From the specimens adduced, some idea of the book
may be formed. Its pervading character is far from
exalted, and the hot haste with which it has been
ushered into the world—so speedily after the death of
him whose sayings and doings it professes to chronicle
—is not likely to elevate the general opinion of its
editor's taste. Book-making, as a trade, peers through
every page of it ; and the popular taste for scandal is
so studiously cared for as to render commentary upon
its literary pretensions or demerits a matter of very
secondary import. How gratifying soever it may
have been to the vanity of Rogers, while alive, to know
that the conversations which took place at his table
were "noted down," assuredly the publication of them
will not increase the love borne towards his memory.

SUNDAY LABOUR.—The Shipping and Mercantile Gazette
of Monday contains a letter from a shipmaster at Constan-
tinople, stating that, being required to discharge coals at Ka-
miesch, for the French Government, by whom his vessel had
been chartered, four of his crew had refused to work, on the
ground that it was Sunday; and that, the case having been
brought before the British Vice-Consul at Constantinople, it
had been decided against him. He wishes to know whether
he or the consul was right. The editor replies in a leading
article, and says :—" A letter appears in another column in
which our opinion is asked as to whether a seaman who ob-
jected to work on a Sunday, under the circumstances therein
detailed, can be held guilty of refusing to obey a lawful com-
mand. We agree with the Consul at Constantinople, that he
cannot, and that, inasmuch as the work he was directed to do
might just as well have been commenced on the Monday as the
Sunday, the master has no right to fine the seaman for objecting
to resign his day of rest for one of labour. At the same time it
must be remembered that there are many duties,coming within
the meaning of work or labour, which a seaman is bound to per-
form on Sunday the same as on any other day,' and to refuse
or neglect to perform these duties would clearly be disobedi-
ence to a lawful command. Always whilst at sea, and
ofttimes while in port, there is a certain amount of work to be
done which justifies the captain in insisting upon, and the
seamen in performing it, even on a Sunday. Whatever is
required for the proper navigation of the ship, and wherever,
in fact, a necessity exists for the .work to be done, and the
postponement of such work until the next day would con-
tribute to imperil the ship, or cause injury to any one, a
seaman is bound to undertake the labour on a Sunday just as
much as on any other day in the week. Looking at the insti-
tution of the Lord's-day merely as a civil institution, and
altogether apart from its Divine origin and character, the
wisdom and the policy of it are undeniable. It amounts, in
fact, to this, that out of a period of time comprising seven
days, six of these days are a fair allotment to labour, and one
to rest —rest, not of drowsiness or inactivity, but cessation
from that particular mental or bodily labour which constitutes
the daily business of life. The mode of using this day of rest,
and the devotion of it to such ends and objects as each person
thinks advisable, it is not our purpose to dwell upon, further
than to say that, as every man is a responsible agent, and, to
some extent, a trustee for his own benefit as well as that of
others, he would do well to look to his trust, and endeavour
not to abuse it. We are induced to refer to this subject thus
prominently, because efforts are being made to effect an altera-
tion in the observance of Sunday, and to reduce it, on the
plea of benefiting the poor and giving them opportunities for
relaxation, to the level of the other six days in the week. This
movement we believe to be a dangerous one, and the more so
on account of its plausibility. Let the government but once
interfere to make the Lord's-day a day of pleasure in a worldly
sense, and employers, when hands are scarce and employment
at a premium, will make it a day of labour. Labourers
would soon be divided into "six-day" and "seven-day" men,
and the mechanic would, in a few years, find that "the Sun-
day shines no Sabbath day to him," but that he had simply
gained by the change a negro's holiday. One day's rest to
six days' labour has hitherto been considered the labourer's
right ; but let it once be conceded that the day of rest is not
required, and the right of the working man to demand it will
soon cease."
EXECUTION NEAR GIBRALTAR.—The execution of Edou-
ardo Abad, alias Lutgardo Abadia, for the murder of Mr.
Fenton, an Englishman, who was shot and robbed in the vici-
nity of Tarifa, in April last, took place at Algesiras on the 9th
inst. An accomplice, who witnessed the murder, was sentenced
to be imprisoned for life. A large crowd was present, but be-
haved with great decorum. The scaffold was erected just out-
side the town, and on it were two chairs, opposite one another,
and about six feet apart—one for Abad, who was to suffer,
and the other for his accomplice, who was to witness the execu-
tion, and afterwards be imprisoned for life. Some infantry
were drawn up round the scaffold, and a few Lancers kept the
space clear between the infantry and the crowd. At twelve
o'clock the culprits were brought from the gaol to the place
of execution. They were mounted on donkeys and escorted
by a guard of infantry, and preceded by drums playing a slow
march. The accomplice, who rode the first donkey, had no-
thing particular about his dress, except that in lieu of a hat a
red handkerchief was tied on his head; whereas Abad was dress-
ed in a black long cloak with a black cowl over his head ; the
wrists of each were tied together, but not so tight as to prevent
the hands being slightly used. On arriving inside the square
formed by the military, the accomplice, after being assisted
to dismount by the executioner, mounted the scaffold and
seated himself in the chair appointed for him, and was im-
mediately secured therein by the executioner, by means of
ropes round his arms and legs, and an iron collar round his
throat was strapped to the post behind him. Abad ascended
the scaffold soon after, and the crier then proclaimed his sen-
tence. Three priests accompanied the culprits, and one of
them was engaged for nearly half an hour on the scaffold with
Abad, the priest sitting in a chair and Abad kneeling at his
feet. Abad had a cigar in his mouth when he arrived, and
continued smoking it at his devotions as long as it lasted. He
seemed to pay very little attention to the priest, frequently
looking about him, and apparently nodding to acquaintances
in the crowd, Both the culprits partook of wine during this
time ; and when Abad had finished his confessions he came
forward and asked the people to pray for his soul. He said he
was sorry for what he had done, and begged forgiveness of all
those whom he had injured. He then sat down in the chair,
and was secured, by a rope passed round his body, to
the back of his chair ; other ropes fastened his ankles
to the legs of the chair ; and his arms to the arms of the
chair ; and his hands were drawn down between his knees by
a rope passed under the seat of the chair. The iron collar
was then adjusted on his throat, and a black handkerchief
tied over his face. The executioner then stood behind him,
grasping the iron rod which turns the screw ; and when the
priest had arrived at a certain point in some prayer or creed
he was repeating, the hands of the executioner went round
like lightning, and the collar was drawn, up to within a very
little distance of the post. Death appeared to be instantane-
ous, as not the slightest motion of the body was visible, which
was no doubt prevented in a great measure by the manner in
which the culprit is fastened in the chair. After a minute or
two the handkerchief was removed from the face, which did
not exhibit any evidences of a violent death, except that the
tongue was hanging out of the mouth. The priest who had
confessed Abad then harangued the crowd for about ten
minutes, immediately after which the accomplice was released
from his chair and taken back to gaol, in the same manner as
he came. Three or four sentries were posted to guard the
body, which was to be left till sunset, and then buried ; the
soldiers were marched away, and the crowd, after satiating
themselves with gazing at the body, quietly dispersed.

PARLIAMENTARY INTELLIGENCE.

HOUSE OF LORDS.

TUESDAY.

Mr. W. Smith appeared at the bar and handed in the
Journals of the House of the year 1692, containing entries
relating to the Earl of Lincoln's writ and patent.
MINISTER OP EDUCATION.—In moving the third reading
of the Vice-President of Committee of Council on Education
Bill, Earl GRANVILLE explained that, in attributing on a for-
mer evening to Sir J. Pakington the suggestion of the present
measure, he did not mean to imply that that gentleman had
been the original proposer of a Ministry of Education. No
doubt Mr. Ewart in the other house, and Lord Brougham had
previously proposed a similar scheme. What he intended
upon the former evening was, to acknowledge the efforts of Sir
J. Pakington in the cause of education last year.—Lord
BROUGHAM cordially recognised the eminent services of Sir
J. Pakington in that and many other matters.—The bill
was then read a third time and passed.
The House of Commons Offices Bill and the Metropolitan
Police Bill were severally read a third time and passed.
THE SUNKEN SHIPS AT SEBASTOPOL.—The Earl of HARD-
WICKE begged to call their lordships' attention to a subject
of considerable importance to the country and to the House,
and over which they could only exercise a distant and mode-
rate control. At the commencement of the war with Russia
the authorities at Sebastopol, in order to provide for the de-
fence of that port, thought proper to sink seven, eight, or nine
—he was not sure of the number—heavy ships. The state in
which those ships were sunk he believe was not known to
any one. Whether they were sunk with their stores or guns
on board, or otherwise, no one knew ; nor whether they- were
built of oak or of fir. He rather believed they were built of
oak, judging from the abundance of that kind of timber in
those countries. He felt sure the Government would agree
that if at the close of the war there should be a resurrection
of those ships very great pain and irritation would be felt by
the people of this country, who firmly believed that the Rus-
sian Black Sea fleet had been utterly and completely destroyed.
He therefore asked Lord Panmure what were the intentions of
Her Majesty's government with regard to those ships.—Lord
PANMURE said nothing that gallantry and science could effect
would be left undone to insure the destruction of what was
above the water in Sebastopol or beneath it:
The House then adjourned.

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.