The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-12-25 00:00:00

skating art, and an enthusiast, as the event proved, fell
through the ice, and was immersed up to the neck. After
some little exertion he was dragged out of the hole and placed
upon the ice. Immediately on this being effected, he, with
the most perfect nonchalance, handed his watch to a friend
and quietly resumed skating, while the crowd by which he
was surrounded lustily shouted " Bravo, the Hero of Inker•
man," he meanwhile dashing about

On sounding skates, a thousand different ways,
In circling poise, swift as the winds along.

Having pursued this amusement for some little time, he took off
his skates and ran homewards as fast as he was able, followed
by the shouts of the amused multitude.
The memorial from the colonels of the different regiments
of the Guards to the QUEEN, praying to be put on the same
footing as to promotion for service with the officers of the line,
continues the subject of diligent rather than pleasing conver-
sation, particularly in military circles. The memorial and its
prayer are still felt to be invidious, and the subject has fur-
nished material for some severe hits at the PRINCE CONSORT.
In particular, Punch drives hard against the illustrious Field-
Marshal in lampoon and by caricature. The incident alto-
gether is one which it is to be regretted his Royal Highness
had anything to do with. It has already brought his name
into unpleasant connexion with various matters which the
profane do not hesitate to denominate "military jobbery," and
within the last few months "the system" has had so much
and such deserved obloquy heaped upon it, that to push such
things further was, to say the least of it, indiscreet. Many
Si veteran officer repeats with a feeling as much akin to anger
as jocosity that the system must indeed be bad which can
extort a pathetic complaint from Prince ALBERT and the Duke
of CAMBRIDGE relative to the slowness of promotion !
From the contemplation of hardships so seriously and justly
complained of, and so modestly put forth by the two royal
soldiers referred to, the transition is as gratifying as it is
almost novel, to turn in contemplation to the handsome meed
of public regard bestowed on two literary campaigners of ac-
knowledged skill and merit. CHARLES DICKENS has made a
vigorous sortie from his literary ambush, and successfully
lodged 35,000 of his skirmishing corps within the defensive
lines of a grateful public in the shape of the first number of
his "Little Dorrit ;" and, more marvellous still, Mr. MACAULAY
has been equally fortunate in planting a doubly numerous
brigade of his heavy troops upon an indulgent world in the
form of two volumes of his " History of England." Book-
sellers' circulars and publishers' notices make an admiring
public familiar with the fact that 35,000 copies or 70,000 of
these volumes have found ready purchasers in the British pub-
lic. More than this, the ready-reckoners of literary dealers
have brought within easy knowledge of the same public the
numerous tons and hundred weights—the many eubieal yards
of solid content comprised in the mighty cube of such a his-
torical issue, and the public has accordingly stared, with due
amazement at the figure of the statists; the figures of the histo-
rian many of them have prudently left for further consideration.
To attempt criticism upon an author whose labours are trans-
ferred by tons, or to question that popularity which is piled. ins
pyramidal acres, would be as unwise as fruitless. Even at the
risk of being charged with rashness, it may not be altogether
an act of temerity to glance at a few of the illustrations of
this really pictorial, if not also fanciful, History of England.
The first fact which strikes a general reader is the operose
-verbosity and over-crowding of the panorama. The scenes
already painted stretch over a period of twelve years, are
represented in four ponderous volumes, and have taken the
artist seven years in their elaboration. At the same rate of
progress, the remaining hundred and fifty-eight years will
occupy a period of time which will land Mr. MACAULAY in an
epoch of his life entitling him to rank among the patriarchs.
The volumes now issued sustain their author's claim to being
au artist of gigantic effort, while they at the same time lead
to a suspicion that his nude philosopher from New Zealand,
whose anticipated advent has given such dire offence to the
patriotism of Lord JOHN RUSSELL, will have completed his
meditation upon the ruined arches of London Bridge, before
the historic scenery has been brought to a close. The key of
this grand historic pageant, so far as it has yet been proceeded
with, is Whiggery. During the eight years treated of, in the
last portion of this history, there is but one grand figure and
many subservient ones exhibited. WILLIAM 111. is not dis-
played as a giant among giants ; the surrounding actors in
the great state pageant are purposely dwarfed to enhance the
magnitude of his proportions. Of the vigour of his fancy
sketches few can doubt, although many will be prepared to
dispute their accuracy, and still more numerous will be those
who condemn their spirit. His hatred of the Duke of MARL-
BOROUGH leads him to disparage that hero in the most shame-
ful manner. The portrait painted by MACAULAY of that
most distinguished Englishman of his age is discoloured
throughout. He is represented by this new historian as a
hypocrite, a cheat, a murderer, and a traitor. "Avarice,"
says Mr. MACAULAY, "is rarely the vice of a young man; it
is rarely the vice of a great man; but MARLBOROUGH was
one of the few who have, in the bloom of youth, loved lucre
more than wine or women, and who have at the height of
greatness loved lucre more than power or fame." His genius
as a statesman is huddled over; his success and skill as a RA-