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., tis 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 vgite . ..e Writes 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 aPital • rbl'-t to theier language as thatu"ext
ov • -as ashamed at
teths
of
si inolaiistrt
be soon as they growsthe little
excrescence
it,e
shibbo-
eon and ataitall OnlycZne ZarTnuelr brv, thosea who lhise-e thetoenstof
trtT!tiOcatior 4,..re accounted by
it rlqhts de2 ;tvery provincialism of Cockneysdialect the
ances-
; and
all iwtio
wovrlY rooted in the history of languageissimply
.144? °rant prig, t/estroy these differfenzeration,
Attl te
to 13`;, g' Wlthout the bump '3 . erpetaulaull
lee Doeitor or rohde in the infernal regions
anpot sell a
1447 elialt, some Phonetic News which
. ‘',,titrZi tt divinee!' 'I have always thought thee. acoon
.11 confusion oGn
God
Yktth - 41141 t Protest against centralizatiroep,
d lenish tbe
,44,41i0t tol I.aerease and multiply
aal few spots in it
.0„..e:1te11.441,;! himself iu swharrin,ss
boancks and tramplinogf
,ilezitt‘tioert,tiZtpoevieer eiawhaott
What ae miserable caricatureof
odious
710,.4e itt, To„a° that first French Revolution
.4,4,14444e,e4tre`400fil rian his own wretched carcasswatos
d he himself supposed,th.ing
IQ be .eer I
,pallthings, and state. Ever3things
ster.e.a,_. -ro„a.,art of a cer4ra
'44Pl3' (),amer•off and simplified, but inany
"Red because they had been old.
Iszttu
te li r.., LONDON.
spite of man.
I..°tlt 0;4 totedelf will have her way in . •
i°li,,-the on',,". every body was for crowding into it
t°l'44-I.e t., iiv.ellt.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 orsf
foiea `u the. I.° oe gaining ground that if the Londoners
Vtiqk
,2t can they will soon have no water
4t,4414 1111411 as no air to breathe. If poor old Father
tlitl43 he ,8 any 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
ti.!lfi 4',_ttgues of Egpyt—a darkness which might be felt.
th 744444,1 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
tottlhi,o t:llittiof Babylon—such as might in some sense.d
auelyt., tt
Re.2' :Moment,
vv'hat ---, tt,-.rall - •• ' . • h people bring on tiiiltmy.
eir Y eNils which
under the roviso that ju g-
r? iii V-o+oll f ;.- Retitle judgment folly
that e n.itin:4lY 4,14 wickedness,
t.Jr it3'-f-011•064
L,Ol-18.4es
was I Will a' world which has
oftheandAlls-ptuopwedrful
rimestilence,
I...4i'e;'loerroeuttorthllt be again so tenderly reprimanded • anded ?
dillg in that vague dread
VNib. the .witr2.l-kness P Has not London') alreadyp
hneegar-
4ato all th.e.'ng of tongues P—for do
tet4e titilloit's
le,treetisaplaguages and half thewedialects of
tttlt?t tt 'Nue" concludes with the finishing. chap-
-8 the the c tory of the Campaign, written in a
it tse siep NAea.." They describe the progress_
Ntli 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
tk,7 ett„,' and the publication of this " Story
440 e, -.Taiga of Sebastopol" in a separateen
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
IN lifa to 4 grand reception at Versailles. It is
be %V Bar that, from the vestibule to the
th tilti ltschse 1-
e tti eti gallery,
At
: ant 4„, crowds were assembled.
RN ,4,1) °t angle 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
ofe,,eje the rest of the assembly. In
Irb, ettllt ‘..ui
r k 3', blit 8' and pre-eminent, not only for
44.44441 the Queen-like majesty of her air,
e 6 ts,
41e • ,' 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 Monsieur Boufflers. defended Lille for four
months against the Prince Eugene., Two years
ago he saved the army of 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."