Northern Times.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1859-06-10 00:00:00

THE VOLUNTEER (THAT IS TO BE)
RIFLE CORPS IN LIVERPOOL.
JITOR OF THE NORTHERN TIMES.
..irget who wrote the following:—
And all run mad a-cutting throats,
'Tween Exeter and John o' Groat's."
But it is not very material who the author was, as i
is peculiarly fitted for the present dreadful crisis—i
crisis when young men see visions and old mer
dream dieanis !—when Johnny the Weaver, an(
Christy Sly the cobbler, and many other good mer
and true when "we, the people of England, it
Tooley-street assembled" are threatened, out
liberties jeopardised, and our wives and little ones
in danger of being carrigcl off by Pope Pius the IX.
and his man, Louis Napoleon ought we not be "up
and doing ?" But, after all, sir, what are these to our
Rifle Corps ? If there had been an honest press,
—the " bulwark of British liberty,"—at the time
of the " South Sea bubble," we would not have
heard of the disasters caused by that soda-water
swindle. Now that we have one independent and
2st journal in Liverpool—the NORTHERN TIMES
the public can at least hear what every one says
about the " Volunteer Rifle Corps." The meeting
of the committee of the "Rifle Corps," held at the
Town-hall on Monday week, a report of which
appeared in your paper, furnishes much matter for
reflection. General Bell—a gentleman, I presume,
of experience—submitted to that meeting a draft
proposal for the forming of the corps. There
are men who, in any extremity, will have their joke,
but, without attributing any thing to the gallant
General, except solemn seriousness, was he in earnest
when he propounded the following, which is marked
"No. 2 " on the draft proposal—" To make a rifle-
man without practice, is out of the question !"
Surely, the brave old veteran could not have
intended that should apply to the already-made
gentlemen of the Michael Cassio school—that
"great arithmetician," who never set a squadron
in the field, but, like the fellow who was asked by a
counsel, "How long are you a bootmaker ?" and
replied, " I was born one !" So, I say, the General
could not have applied that to any of our brave
juveniles who think that they "were born riflemen !"
It was, however, a rather cutting remark of the
General, and probably will have " told " on the
volunteers before this hour. The sixth proposition
in the draft, is equally telling with the aboYe, for
the General says—" The generous offer from the
War-office won't go far for practice." The bitter
irony of this is too palpable. But, Mr. Editor, as
the public have the benefit of expressing their
opinions through your columns, let me ask, do
we want a Rifle Corps at all ? and, if so,
of what class should they be composed? One thing
is beyond dispute, that the " fiercely down-turned
shirt-collar gentlemen (those who are " born rifle-
men ") are not the parties to compose the "ranks."
I think I have already settled scores with these
juveniles and their ambition, and so let them stand
at ease for the present. Well, then, do we want a
Rifle Corps ? Mr. Chadwick, at the meeting alluded
to, told the persons present what the Under Secre-
tary-at-War said to him, which was, in a few words
" We," said the Secretary, " don't want your Rifle
Corps, for we have neither money nor arms to give
them." This may not be considered the retort
courteous, but it was, in plain English, the dirty
kick out ! The people of the country, except the
"young blood," are either laughing at, or ridiculing
in other strains, the great " rifle movement," and in
no place has it been productive of more " fun " than
in the good old town." With the exception of a
few good, but very mistaken gentlemen, and a few
of the Brimstone stamp, the rest of the inhabitants
are aloof from the farce, but enjoy it amazingly at a
distance. The suggestion of Mr. Chadwick, at the
meeting was superb—" every one aspiring to be a
captain to pay £lO !" For the honour of the thing,
I dare say lie will get a company of one hundred
captains in a week, with more money than brains ;
but where are the privates to come from ? What a
glorious sight- to see a company of one hundred
captains on the "flags," or marching down Church-
street, to the tune of " The girl I left behind me !"
Sir, the entire proceeding—well-intentioned as some
of the promoters are is a bubble, and must soon
explode ; but then the public can look to you with
confidence, and say you warned them of the danger
—danger, the most terrific it must be, indeed, when
in Edinburgh only twenty names could be got out
of over a quarter of a million of people, to defend the
Queen and the country ! The washy-patriotic ditty
of " Riflemen, form," does not appear to have
touched our friend Sawney's heart as yet—canny
Scot knows better. When there is danger he will
not be found wanting. —I am, sir, your obedient
servant, " A KNOWING Strati,

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