The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1841-11-16 00:00:00

author Gabriele Rosetti—can we give it g

" Impromptu to Julia" is pre

of .Moore's earlier efforts

and seventh, of the " History of Venice," are fully as inter-
esting as the earlier ones. The extraordinary narrative of a
Jewish priest of the first century, called " The Impenitent
is continued. Fitzball's wonderful tale, " The Devil Stork
continues, and is—worthy of its author. We
space to particularize the remainder of the articles, except to
say that the " Prisoner of the Palais Royal" is a delightful
story, and possesses the merit of beginning and ending in
the current number, a rare merit in these continuation days.
In conclusion, we recommend Smallwood's Magazine to the
notice of all lovers of light literature—they will be pleased.

have no.

FATAL FIRE IN THE BLACKFRIA.RS-ROAD
TWO FIREMEN KILLED.

(From the London papers of yesterday

At a quarter before two o'clock, yesterday morning, a most
destructive fire broke out on the premises of Messrs. Kindon
and Bathe, floor-cloth manufacturers, at the corner of Wel-
lington-street, Blackfriars-road. On the first alarm being
given the police were fully occupied in calling upon the sur-
rounding neighbourhood to quit their beds. The engines
from the Waterloo-road station and Farringdon-street were
soon on the spot, promptly followed by those of the various
other metropolitan stations. Owing to the unremitting ex-
ertions and undaunted perseverance of the firemen, to whom
the greatest praise is due, the conflagration was happily con-
fined to the factory in which it first broke out.
The conflagration raged for some time with uncontrolahle
fury, and at one time threatened the surrounding neighbour-

hood with destruction. It had, in fact, caught the back part
of the contiguous dwelling-house, but, owing to the plentiful
supply of water, the fire was confined to the premises on
which it first broke out, and which was completely reduced
to ashes.

At half-past three all danger of the flames extending was
at an end.
At about twenty minutes before eight o'clock two of the
brigade men, one named William Webb, aged 25, attached
to the Morgan's-lane station; and the other named Joseph

Parke, aged 27, belonging to the Wellclose-squa

made their way into the ruins through one of the windows
in Wellington-street, with the branches of two engines, and
commenced playing on those portions of the walls where the
fire was still raging. They had not done so more tha❑ a few
minutes when the lofty walls on the west side, together with
the gable end of the south wall, fell inward with a tremendous
crash, immolating the two unfortunate men beneath them,
and, no doubt, instantly launched them into eternity. It is
needless to say, that this occurrence created the most pain-
ful sensation in every bosom. Their brother firemen and
several other persons, regardless of the impending danger
from the still tottering walls on the northern and eastern
side, rushed into the ruins, burning as they were, and used
strenuous exertions to extricate their unfortunate fellow-
creatures. It was a work, however, which occupied them
upwards of three hours, for it was estimated that not less
than 20 tons of rubbish were removed before a sight of either
of them was obtained. The first discovered was Webb. He
was found with his head shockingly fractured, both legs and
arms broken, and otherwise dreadfully mutilated, and quite
dead. Parke was discovered an hour after, about six yards
from Webb; he appeared to have been killed by suffocation.
no bones being found broken. As their bodies were got out
the scene was heart-rending in the extreme, and their fate
excited the deep commiseration of the hundreds of persons
assembled. They were placed in shells and conveyed to the
workhouse of St. George-the-Martyr, where they await a
coroner's inquest. Both of these poor fellows were married,
and Webb has left a wife and two children to deplore his
loss. Large bodies of fire remained in the ruins up to a late
hour last night, and during the whole of yesterday thousands
of persons were on the spot, but were prevented from ap-
proaching by barriers, at which the police were stationed to
prevent any one passing, it being expected that the front wall
of the factory would fall with every succeeding gust of wind.

Mr. Charles Kean, who is now performing at Liverpool,
has been more successful than ever in his provincial engage-
ments this year. Theatricals in the country, generally speak-
ing, are in a wretched state.

RURALITY OF PARIS.—One of the great charms of Paris
as a metropolitan residence, consists in the peculiarly rural
chara'ter of the environs. Up to the very gates of the city
the country is really country ; and within view of the.
exterior Boulevards small farms are carrying on their agri-
cultural operations with all the rural simplicity of our remote
countries. Instead of ten miles of villas and Londonized
hamlets surrounding our metropolis, the student walks out
from the Pays Latin to watch the progress of the harvest, or
from the Quartier des Invalides proceeds to botanise in the
woods of Meudon or Vincennes. This is partly the result of
the absence of the coal smoke. It is well known that many
species of flowers (the yellow rose, for instance) will not
blossom within ten miles of London ; Paris, on the contrary.
produces the finest flowers, not only in the Royal gardens of
the Tuileries and Luxemburg, but in the nursery grounds of
the famous rose growers Noisette and Laffsy, which in the
Fauxbourg St. Germain enjoy advantages such as it would
be necessary to retreat many miles from London to secure.
In the older portions of Paris every house of note has its
garden; and it is sometimes startling in a narrow, gloomy,
obscure street, to perceive at the extremity of a long passage
a grove of green acacias, qr one of those gaudy flowerpots
which the dry and sunny climate clothes with such brilliant
• colours.

THE WIT OF CONGREVE.—Mr. Leigh Hunt, in his Bic-
graphical and Critical Notices of Wycherley, Congreve,
Vanbrugh, and Farquhar, to Moxon's new edition of their
works, throws out the following piece of just and piquant
criticism on the wit of Congreve :—" But above all, we must
confess we find the ' wit' become tiresome. We love it
heartily in its proper places, in Butler, Swift, and Addison,
where it is serving some purpose greater than itself; and we
love it still more, when it issues out of sheer animal spirits,
and is happy as a child. But wit for wit's sake becomes a
task and a trial; and in Congreve's days it was a cant, like
the talk about ' sense' and ' reason' ;—as if all sense, and
reason, and wit, had been comprised in the substitution of
the greater faculties of man for the less, and the critical for
the unconscious. Every body was to be ' witty. Letters
were to be full of ' wit,' and end in some ' witty turn.'
Coffee-houses were to talk nothing but ' wit.' Ladies were to
have ' wit and sweetness,' and gentlemen ' wit and fire' ; not
the old ' mother wit' of Shakspeare and his felhiws, which
was a gift from the whole loving frame of Nature; but a
trick of the fancy and of words, which you might almost ac-
quire from the brother-wits of the tavern, and which dealt,
chiefly in simile, with a variation of anthitesis. Every thing
seemed to be of value, only inasmuch as it could be likened
or opposed to something else; till at length simile and meta-
phor came to be taken for a ' reason ; and ' sense' itself
was occupied, not in seeing into anything
a less,
ec
so
su,p couple ofd im
affecteda g es.
how far it was capable of being
very deeply for its
own sake, but in discovering
toThlae
but it was only for the
bspainitteorffedhtihtoeuggrhe ant wits,tthe atffoe
affectation
sure,ti,
Purpose of guarding its rank and dis-
tinctions. This cant of wit, which affected ' manly Wycher-
ley' himself a great deal inure than it ought, came to its head
in Congreve, and pretty well ceased with him. Vanbrugh
was too robust and straightforward to care for it, and Far-
quhar too full of play."
THE CONVICT BLAKESLEY.—The turnkey who was as-
saulted by Blakesley or Thursday in the sham madness
which the convict thought fit to exhibit, was so far from be-
, ing injured by the attack as to be able to sit up with his
charge on Thursday night. There was never, we are given.
to understand, a worse imitation of insanity than that which
has been attempted by Blakesley since his confinement in
Newgate. Before any of the inferior persons about the prison
he appears invariably in perfect possession of his understand-.
ing, but for the last few days he has, the moment the sheriff,
or the governor, or Mr. Carver, the ordinary, or any other
person in authority,entered the cell, begun to play his antics,
and denied that be bad killed anybody, or that he had done
anything snore to his wife than merely given her " a dig."
It has been, we believe, considered prudent by the sheriffs,
who have been constantly engaged in their important and
arduous duties in the prison, not to make Sunday next what
is called "a public day in the chapel. The Rev. Mr. Car
ver will perform the usual service, and preach a sermon,
adapted to the occasion, to the great mass of the prisoners
confined in Newgate, but Blakesley will not be present, for
it is reasonable to suppose that he would pitch upoa that opt
portenity as the most favourable for conveying to the public
an imPrOSiell of hi; insanity.

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