The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-09-15 00:00:00

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

orn is the only article much nnti,
an active demand being experienced at about 2s. advance
on the currency of this day se'nniglit.

ARRIVALS OF CORI,:

From the Sth to the 14th Sept,

COAST. !CANADA U.STATS

Oats Qrs
Rye Qrs
Beans Qrs,
Pease Qrs
ShelledßarleyQrs
than G Q-

.m, ...orn . Qrs. 1 95
Oatmeal .. Loads 852 5
Flour. .... Sack s ' 1959 400
Ditto

EXPORTS.—Foreign. Wheat,— qrs.; Barley,— qrs. ; Pease,
qrs. ; Oats, qrs.; Indian Corn, qrs.; Oatmeal,
sacks ; Flour, 34 brls.—lreland.Wheat, 814 qrs.: Bar-
ley, qrs.; Beans, 5 qrs ; Oats, qrs ; Indian Corn, 4675
qrs. ; Oatmeal,— sks ; Flour, 148 sks 5517 brls —Coa.twise.
Wheat, 617 qrs.; Barley, qrs.; Malt, 5 qrs.; Oats. 12
qrs.; Beans, 381 qrs. ; Pease, 762 qrs.; Oatmeal, 165 sacks
Indian Corn, 143 qrs. ; Flour, 362 sacks 5627 brls.

Average prices of Grain, for the week ending, Sept. 5.184.
Wheat 495. Ott. I Baxley 315. od. I Oats 235. 2d. Rye 325. 7t.

Beans.. 40s. 4d. j Pease.. 375. I d

Aggregate average of the six weeks

Wheat 465. 9-d:1 Barley 283. Id..l_oats

235. 4d. 1 Rye 305..6d,

395. 84i. I Pease.. 365. 7LI

Duty on Foreign Produeethis week .
WheatiOsOd I Barley 3s 6d Oats .. . Is 6cl I Rye.. 3s 6d
Beans 3s fid I Pease.. 3s 6d I ind. Corn Os Od I Flour ads Od

Duty on British Colonial.
Wheat.. Is. Od. I Barley.. Is. od. I Oats. Is. od. I Rye ..
Beans.. Is. Od. Pease.. Is. Od. I Flour. 4id. cwt,

Liverpool Averages, week ending Sept 8, 1846,

Wheat, 76j qis., price 45s od ; Barley, 51 qrs., price Os rd

Oats, 662 qrs., price 27s
Beans, 65 qrs.. 445. Od. ; Pease,
Duties paid in Liverpool, week ending Sep. 10
Foreign.—Wheat, ass qrs.; Barley, qrs.; Malt
qrs. ; Oats, 300 qrs. ; Rye, qrs. ; Beans, 900 ors ; Pease,
qrs.; Indian Corn, 5714 qrs. a Oatmeal, 24, loads; Flour,
298 barrels.
Colonial.—Wheat, 3937 qrs. ; Pease, 50 qrs. ; Indian Corn,
qrs. ; Flour, 24266 brls.

led.; Rye, qrs., price Os. Cd
qrs., price s. Od.

I TEH BLIND GIRL OF MANZANARES

(From a Madrid Letter in a Morning Paper.)

The moment the Andalusian diligence stops to change
horses at the Manzanares, a small town about eighty
miles from Madrid, a young woman, twenty-two years of
age, blind, though not from her birth, of a vulgar counte-
nance, and meanly clad, addresses herself to the passen-
gers, and seeks to excite their charity by means of a vol-
ley of extemporary verses. She usually asks the travel-
lers for a rhyme, and they try to select the most difficult
metres, and most absurd verses. She gets out of the di-
lemma as well as she can, sometimes with forced con-
structions and nonsensical stanzas, which such difficul-
ties necessitate, but she never stops short nor hesitates;
scarcely has the line issued from the lips of the voyager,
than the copresponding rhyme is supplied by :he mouth
of the poor poetess.
The facility of extemporaneous composition is certainly
no proof of a great extent of intelligence, nor do the verses
of the blind girl merit the name of poetry, yet some of
them are not wanting in grace and simplicity. But the
singular faclity with which this woman manages the
idiom, the extraordinary rapidity with which she torms
the framework of her compositions, and seizes on the
rhymes and metre corresponding with the given verse,
are Rifts, the absence of which is too often evident in the
works of many of our poets in their forced or lax and fee-
ble stanzas. But this humble improvisatrice posses-
another accomplishment far superior to that of
making, in her perfect knowledge of Latin, its rules, its
delicacies, its difficulties, and its principal authors.
When a child, she sat at the door of the Latin class of the
town, then presided over by a dornine of that race, now
almost extinct, composed of men whom unremitting
study and great experience in teaching had rendered fa-
miliar with the whole range of the literature of the Latin
language. The blind girl listened attentively to the les-
sons, and engraved them on her stupendous memory.
The schoolmaster was not long in perceiving her taste
and capabilities, and the worthy man resolved to culti-
vate and bring to perfection this intellectual prodigy

She manifested' an insatiable curiosity and a daily increas-

DISCOVERIES OF LORD ROSSE'S TELESCOPE.
I • (From Professor Nichol's " System of the World.")
And now, if only for a moment, contemplate that stel-
lar creation in its unveiled magnificence ! Restrained no
longer by the consideration of probabilities, freed from
:'y of discerning amongst its mighty forms only
resemblances of those developments of power which more
closely surround us, we can recognise no limit 'either to
its stupendous extent or inconceivable variety. The
nebulous spots resolved into stars, is a fact which of i self
vasly modifies our conception of the magnitude of that
creation; but how hopelessly does imagination strive to
enlarge itself, that so we realize the interior gorgeousness
of tl--

the necessi.l

..ese distant groups ! In the masses of nebulous stars,
circular or compact galaxies of all orders of glory may
n'iw be traced, leading from the splendid cluster in Her.
cules, as their lowest point, up through schemes of being
in which sun is nearer sun, until their entire skies merge
into one blaze of light and one throng of activities ;—not
like ours, coldly studded with points far apart, whose
-- mutual influences are sundered by huge abysses! But
OTAL.
high above all stands Orion, the pre-eminent glory and
w,

inuer of the sideral universe. Considering it as so re-
mote, that its light cannot reach us in less than sixty
thousand years, and at the same time as occupying so

large an apparent portion of the heavens, how stupendous
must be the extent of that nebula! It would seem almost
that, if all other clusters hitherto gauged were collected
and compressed into one, they would riot surpass this
mighty group, in which every wisp, every wrinkle, is
verily a sand-heap of stars ! There are cases in which,
though imsigination has quailed, reason may still adven-
ture inquiries and prolong its speculations ; but at times
we are brought to a limit across which no human faculty
has the strength to penetrate, and where, as now—as if
on the threshold of the very infinite—we can only bend
our heads and silently adore. * * * _ _

In regard of inquiries so vast, perhaps we should expect
no more than an intimation of the reality of such motions.
But we can go a step still onward. The solar motion, if
undefined in reference to the nature of its vast curve, can
yet be approximately valued, in regard of absolute amount.
The question of the parallax of the fixed stars, or of our
power of measuring spaces sufficiently evanescent to de-
termine the distance of those stars from our solar sphere,
is irresolvable no longer. Twice, at least, has it been
distinctly answered, and by two men of no uncongenial
habit of mind, over whose loss science had recently to
grieve: one the illustrious Besse', with whose fame Eu-
rope is filled, and my lamented countryman Thomas
Henderson. Unquestionably to this latter astronomer
belongs the glory of planting the first mile-stone amid
the external spaces ; and—speaking in reverence, though
in unison with the imperfect desires of man—it may surely
be deplored that, unlike the case of the immortal German,
the life of the discoverer was closed, not indeed in the
beginning of his usefulness, but in the very spring-time
of a fame adequate to his great deserts. The case of one
of these stars, and probably the best' defined, will suit us
now. It is Bessel's-61 Cygni. The circumstances are
briefly these : the remoteness of this star from our plane-
tary sphere is definitely about 670,000' times our distance
from the sun ; and we have accurately determined its
apparent motion through space. Its distance from the
point of observation bring known, that apparent angular
motion can be converted into an apparent motion of so
many miles; just as a traveller could tell,-should a remote
object appear to be in motion—if he knew the interval
dividing him from it—the exact amount of its displace-
ment. Now, if this displacement of 61 Cygni is owing,
as it is, in all likelihood, not to its proper motion, but to
the translation of the sun, we may clearly infer, on the
simple principle above stated, with what velocity we are
darting through space. In Bessel's opinion, we may move
in this immense orbit thrice as fast as the earth travels in
its planetary ellipse ; or with a speed so swift that we
might reach 61 Cygni in 41,000 years. Now, large
though this period is, there is nothing in it whatever to
overwhelm our imagination. If geology is not the veriest
fable, if we are not to return to the old conceptions, that
the rocks of our world's crust, with their entombed crea-
tures, have been laid down there purposely as the most
mocking of enigmas—an enigma that seems- to have a
meaning and yet has none—even this great course of
years is only a very brief point amid the latest changes
affecting the surface of the earth. Free, then, from fear,
let us rise far higher; and, assuming that Bessel's star
indicates the average distance of the nearest orbs, we
infer that the sun would require no more than • 500,000
years to reach that extremest verge at which the eye can
descry a single star ; nay, it could reach that remotest
distance to which Lord Ro'se's telescope can pierce. in
about two hundred and fifty millions of years; and so far
is even this stupendous period from sounding all the
working time of nature, that many of the mountains of
our earth may, through its whole duration, have been in
being, rearing their peaks towards different constellations,
and surviving, in their littleness and fragility, even these
immense transitions! The numbers I have quoted are
indeed only approximate; but, in rendering conceivable a
subject so vast and vague, they have, notwithstanding
their necessary inaccuracy, an important use. Under
their direct announcements, the stability of our supposed
universe wholly disappears. The stars that shine over us
now may indeed be those that arrested the ardent gaze of
the Chaldeans; but at depths of Virile by no means beyond
our reach, we must have passed through many arrange-
ments of orbs; and if, as assuredly they do, these stars
move like the sun, our majestic cluster may no: now in
any part have been a similitude of what it was ! How
stupendous such ceaseless evolutions ! How overwhelm-
ing the thought, that what, above all things, seemed the
fitting emblem of the Eternal, is thus almost visibly-sub-
ject to transiency ; even in its most august and awful
forms, only one phase of the fleeting and phantasmal!
Often overpowered by the dread contemplation; beneath
such majesties feeling, as in faintness, that surely L must
be lone and forlorn, I turn ever with a cheering delight
to that sweet home-picture of Luther's, when he speaks
of the little bird that, on summer's evenings, came to his

pear tree at sunset, and sang, ever melodiously and with-
out one note of misgiving, because, though dread eternity
was above, below, and around it, God was there also 1

DEER STALKING.—The detestation of deer to sheep is
so great that they will not inhibit the same ground with
these animals. A remarkable instance of this antipathy
was observed in the end of the last century by an old dro-
ver, " familiarly called " And robhai r ban," when crossing
one of the great moors of Sutherland, soon after the first
" head of sheep " had been turned into Lord Ray's forest.
The narrator was surprised by the appearance of a large
column of near a thousand deer, marching out of the
country in a steady determined emigration. Disgusted
by the invasion of the sheep and their dogs, they had col-
lected from all parts, and unable to find " clean ground,"
continued their course out of the country, dispersing into
the most solitary glens. From these they never returned,
and harassed and killed by the shepherds and farmers,
their numbers became reduced to the few and scattered
fugitives which lingered in a state of outlawry in remote
coires, until the " commercial spirit " of England spread
to the Highland hills, and it was discovered that harts and
hinds could be converted into marketable stock, like other
cattle. Hence deer are now " grown " for Saxon guns,
as wool for Manchester looms, or beef for Smithfield
shambles. The abhorrence of the deer to sheep did not
result merely from the disturbance of their dog•. Ir is
true, that, like the corollary of St. Columbus cone ruing
cows and women, " where there are sheep there mt at be
dogs, and where there are dogs there most be mischief."
But the chief cau-e for which the deer shun the society of
their woollen enemies is the closeness of their feeding and
the foulcess of their fleece. The deer is very delicate in
his food, and exceedingly fastidious as to the purity of his
pasture. Independent, therefore, of the abridgement of
his provision by the excoriating teeth of the tree and herb
exterminating •` gallgeall," he cannot endure the oily ran-
cour of their wool, which poisons the fresh heather and
sweet green shealing. Wanting these nuisances, he exhi-
bits an antipathy to the intercourse of black cattle, his old
aboriginal brethren of the hill, whose clean coat and mo-
derate feeding spar the grass and leave no tint of tar and
oil in the pasture. Hence the deer and the stirks may be
seen herding in the same coire and reposing on the same
turf. Sheep in any considerable number are an introduc-
tion into the highlands since the latter end of the last
century, in which it was discovered that mutton was not
only a safer, but a more profitable stock than man. It is
vet well remembered in Argyllshire, that the first Cheviot
brought into that county was introduced by Mr

,ampbell, of _ale, upon the farm of Balantyre, near
Inverary, in the year 1771. The earliest similar coloni-
sation in Inverness-shire was in Morven, about the year
1777. The shepherd of these flocks, of whom the first
was a certain John Todd, from the neighbourhood of
Dumbarton; the second, a Braidfoot from the border,
introduced the first " maud," or " shepherd's plaid,"
worn in Argyll or Inverness. Similar flocks and their
feeders disseminated the expulsion of the deer, and the
introduction of the base "holden-grey," which has since
usurped the place of the tartans of the clans ; and at its
first appearance, from the calamities by which it was ac-
companied, and its degraded supplantation of the national
dress, was truly and significan,ly named, " Bratgalla,"
" The foreigner's rag," and "an riochd-mallaichte,"
" The accursed grey." This hue is to the Highlanders
what black is t., their neighbours ; and so detestable for
its wan and ghastly appearance, that its association af-
forded the popular appellation for ghosts and devils;
hence an apparition—a phapt ,rn—" an Riochtl.' The
grey, or wan—The spectre foreboding death—" am bo-
dach glass," the grey earl; another of an evil genius, in
the shape of a goat—" an Glastig." or " Glasdidh "
" the Grey," or wan ; and, as in the south, the great ene-
my is named familiarly " The Black Gentlemon," so, in
the Highlands, he is called " Mai, an Riochd," the son of
the grey. In the ideas of the old wives and children of
the last century, all these personifications, except one,
were as nearly as possible those of the modern " dubh
gall," deer-stalkers, in their chequered " hodden grey,"
wanting only the " Jim Crow," " iuffian," or " crush
hat "—enormities which had not then completed the mas-
querade of Death and Satan. It is easy to trace the ori-
gin of this association. The ancient Caledonian hell, like
that of Scandinavia, was a frczen and glassy region, an is.
land named " Itruiren," far away among the "wan
waters " of the northern ocean, and involved in the ever-
lasting ice, and snow, and fog. In this association, the
appearance of the evil spirits, its inhabitants, like that of
mortals in similar circumstances, was believed to be dim,
wan, and cloudy shades, such as men become when seen
through a frosty mist. Thus a party of modern deer.
stalkers, noble, well appointed, and gallant though they
be, in despite of the gold Geneva watch-chains, and cost y
Purdie rifles, which peep from beneath their shepherd
plaids, would represent to an old " Sealgair-nambeann "
the liveliest vision of the fiend and his familiars; and. we
have no doubt that, if " Alasdair Mac- Dhonacha-Tdh,"
or even " Eoin-dubh-drinachin," had even met, iti the
grey of the morning, either Lord 0., Sir H. G., or The
Ruffians of Aberarder," he would have fled the bill for
that time, and n ver would have returned to it again be-
tween sun setting and sun rising.—[lt has pleased a wri-
ter of the " Cockney school " of Highlanders to convert
this word into " Glaslig," which we take leave to observe
is unknown in the Highlands, and did not exist before
the year 1841.1—Caledonian Mercury.

DALY BESTOWS A HELMET ON BULLY DODD

(From The Knight of 9wynne.)

The great square volume -in which the Knight used to
record his notes of the neighbouring poor, lay on the
table ; his chair was placed near it ; all was in readiness
for his coming who was to come there no more I As Lio-
nel stood in silent sorrow, surveying these objects, the
shadow of a man darkened the window; he turned sud-
denly, and saw the tall, scarecrow figure of Fleury the
madman. A large placard decorated the front of his hat,
on which the words " Down with the Darcys l" were
written in capital letters. and he carried in his hand a bun-
dle of papers, like handbills, which he shook with a me-
nacing air at Lionel.

" What is this, Fleury ?" said the youth, opening the
window, and at the same time snatching one of the papers
from Isis hand.

" It is the full account of the grand auction of govern-
ment hacks," said Fleury, with the sing-song intonation
of a street crier, " no longer needed for the service of the
Crown, and to be sowld without reserve."

" And who cent you here with this?" said the young
man, moderating his tone so as to avoid startling the
other.

" Connor Egan, Hickman's man, gave me a pint and a
noggin of spirits, to cry the auction, and tould me to
come up here, for maybe you'd like to hear of it ye'r-
selves."

Lionel threw his eyes over the offensive lines, where, in
coarse ribaldry names the most venerablewere held up to
scorn and derision. If it was some sa:isfaction to find
that his father was linked in the ruffianly att ick with men
of honour as unblemished as his own, he was. not less out-
raged at the vindictive cowardice that had suggested this

" There'll be a fine sight of people there, by all ac-
counts," said Fleury, gravely, " for the auction bills is far
and near over the country, and the Castlebar coach has
one on each door."

Is popular feeling always as corrupt a thing as this !"
muttered Lionrl, with a bitter sneer, while at the same
tima the door of the room was opened, and Daly entered ;
his face was marked by a severe cut on one cheek, from
which, the blood had flowed freely, a dark black stain, as
of a blow, was on his chin, and one hand he carried enve-
loped in his handkerchief; his clothes were torn besides
in many places, and bora traces-of a severe personal con-
flict.

" What has happened ?" said, Lionel, as he looked in
alarm at the swollen and blood-stained features, " did you.
fall ?"

" Fall no such thing, boy,"" replied Daly, sternly,
" but some worthy folk in Castlebar planned a little sur-
prise for me this morning. They heard, it seems, that we
passed through the town by daybreak, but that I was to
return before noon, and so they placed some cars and turf
creels in the main street opposite the inn, in such a way,
that while seeming merely accident, would, effectually stop
a horseman from proceeding. When arrived at the spot,
I halted, and,called out to the fellows to move on and let
me pass : they took no heed of my words, and then I saw
in a moment what was intended. I had no arms, I pur-
posely left my pistols behind me, for feared something
might provoke me, though not anticipating such as this.
So I got down and drew this wattle from the side of a turf
creel—you see it is a strong black thorn, and good stuff,
too. Before I was•in the saddle, the word was passed, and
the whole street was full of people, and' I now perceived
that by the same manoeuvre as they employed in front,
they had also closed the rear upon me, and cut off my re-
treat. Now for it now for it !' they shouted. ' Where's
Bully Dodd ? Where's the bully ?'—l suppose you know
the fellow ?"

" The man that was transported ?"
" The same ; the greatest ruffian the country was cursed
with. He came at the call without coat or waistcoat, his
shirt-sleeves tucked up to his shoulders, and a handker-
chief round his waist; ready for a fight. There was an old
quarrel between us, for it was I captured the fellow, the
day after he burnt down Dawson's house. He came to-
wards me, the mob making way for him, with• a pewter pot
of porter in his hand."
•' We want you to dhrink a toast for ue Mr. Daly,'
said he, wish a marked courtesy and a grin that amused
the fellows around him You were always a,Patriot, and
won't make any objections to it.'
" What is the liquor ?" said I.
" Good porter, divil a less,' cried the nob, • Mol
Heavyside's best,' and so I took the vessel in my hands,
and before they could say a syllable, drained it to the bot-
tom, for I was very thirsty with the ride, audio want of
something to refresh myself.'
" ' But you didn't dhrink the toast,' said, Dodd, sa-
vagely.

Where was the toast ? He didn't say the words,'
shouted the mob.

" Off with his hat, and make him drink it,' cried out
several others from a distance—they saved me one part of
the trouble, for they knocked off my hat with a stone.
" Here's health and long life to Hickman O'Reilly,'
cried out Dodd, ' that's the toast.'
" And what have Ito wish him either,' saii I, while
at the same time I tore open the pewter measure, and then
with one strong dash of my hand, drove it down on the
ruffian's head, down to the very brows. I lost no time af-
terwards, but striking right and left, plunged forwards:
the mob fled as I followad, and by good luck,, the car
horses getting frightened, sprang forward also, and so I
rode on with a few slight cuts a stone or two struck me,
nothing more—but they'll need a plumber to rid aly friend
Dodd of his helmet."

" And we used to call this town our own," said Lionel,
bitterly.
" Nothing is a man's own but his honour, air; that
base cowardice yonder believes itself honest and indepen-
dent, as if a single right feeling, a single good or virtuous
thought could consort with habits like theirs; but they are
less base than those who instigate them. The real scoun-
drels are the Hickmans of this world, the men who com-
pensate for low birth and plebeian origin by calumniating
the wellborn and the noble.—What is Fleury wanting
here ?" said he, as attracted by Daly's narrative, the poor
fellow had drawn near to listen.

" I am glad you put the pewter pot on the bully's head,
he's a disgrace to the town." said Fleury, with a laugh,
and he turned away as if enjoying the downfall of an
enemy.

" Oh ! I see," said Daly, taking up one of the papers
that had fallen to the ground, " this is the first act in the
drama; come along, Lionel, let us talk of matters nearer
to our hearts."