The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1853-12-20 00:00:00

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD, AND GENERAL COMINIERCIAL ADVERTISER.

VARIETIES

"ENTERTAINING" KNOWLEDGE. —*Ascertaining the
cost of a dinner party.
A REFLECTION (by MEcm).—lt is not the sharpest
blades that are always the truest steel.
THE PRESENT FASHION OF BONNETS.—A lady dresses
first, and then puts on her bonnet. The bonnet is now,
completely an " after-thought."
IT SEEMS that " Fanny Fern," however enchanting as
a writer, is not enduringly captivating as a wife. Her
husband is understood to have found it for his comfort to
get a divorce. Her lord having thus taken leave of her,
a wag wants to know whether this leave is one of the
Fern Leaves.
A MATCH iron A JEW.—" We were remarking to a

gentleman„ who was
.affording us much pleasani and

eneral information, how few Jews one inlet in New
England ; and asking if he could assign any reason, he
replied, ' Oh, yes, the reason is, that no Jew on earth is
a match for a Yankee.' "—Bunn's " Old England and
New England."
DUTCH WOMEN.—The Dutch women, especially among
the peasantry, are very beautiful. They are incomparably
more so than those of any other continental country.
That part of Holland called Friesland abounds with ex-
ceedingly handsome women. If the sex in Holland only
possessed a little more vivacity of disposition and elegance
of manners, they would be irresistibly attractive.
" WOMAN'S RIGHTS" are decidedly progressing in the
United States. A marriage ceremony was performed at
Rochester, on the 15th ult., by the " Rev." Antoinette L.

Brown, the female preacher. The Union says, " Those
present state that the `Rev.' Antoinette went through
the ceremony with marked grace and propriety, omitting,
however, all allusion to the primeval injunction."

DIALOGUE ANENT SNUFFING.—The son of a worthy
minister, in the kingdom of Fife, who was in the habit of
indulging in a pinch, a few days ago addressed his father
in the following terms Father, you shouldn't snuff."
" Why so ?" said the other.
." Because," replied the son,

_
your nose is not your own." " Then, whose is it ?" was
the somewhat indignant rejoinder. To this the son most
gravely answered, It's the congregation's !"
MOTHER.—As an infant begins to discriminate between
the objects around, it soon discovers one countenance that
ever smiles upon it with peculiar benignity. When it
wakes from its sleep there is one watchful form ever bent
over its cradle. If startled by some unhappy dream, a
guardian angel seems ever ready to soothe its fears. If
cold, that ministering spirit brings it warmth; if hungry,
she feeds it; if happy, she caresses it. In joy or sorrow,
in weal or woe, she is the first object of its thoughts. Her
presence is heaven; the mother is the deity of infancy.
CALKELASHAZIS /FOR CHREA.SNAS.—(Private infama-
shan.)—Drop yer owd rich onts an uncles (if thare single)
a few nice affeckshanat lines, abaght t'forend a December,
uppa gilt-edge paper, an say, at yo hoape at there enjoyin
good health, in at yol be moast happy if thale cum and
spend Chreasmas we yo. An wal yer pen iz wet, au
paper at hand (not gild-edge), just write anuther
letter to yer poor relashairs, at's plenty a nevies an nieces,
an tell em at yo sud be varry glad to see em az usual at
Chreasmas, but yor sorry to say at yov a sad badly hause,
an's likely to her for sum time.—Pogmoor Almeneck.
BREAKFAST has been famed as one of the most delight-
ful of meals. And so it is topersons who meet one another
in all the bloom and freshness of the morning toilette,
but certainly not to those who come down stairs with all
the marks of haste and carele&4ness—hair poked up in any
fashion—gowns unhooked—shoes down at heel, or other
signs of neglect, either in male or female attire. The
consciousness of this makes the party uncomfortable; and
indifference to it is accompanied with surliness or vsnamia-
bility. In nine cases out of ten,- a defect of character
betrays itself in the dress, and we may take it as an index
of the disposition.
SITBSTITIITE FOR COFFEE.—Aspsragus,. according' to
Liebig, contains, in common with tea and coffee, a princi-
ple which he calls " Taurine," and which, by the way, he
considers essential to the health of all those who do not
take strong exercise. Reading this led me tcothink that
asparagus might be made a good substitute for coffee
The young shoots which I first prepared were'not agree-
able, having an alkaline flavour. I their tried the ripe
seed. These' roasted and ground make a hill-flavoured
coffee, not easily distinguishable from fine Mocha. The
seeds are easily freed from the berries by drying them in
a cool oven, and then rubbing them on a sieste-Corres--
pendent of Gardeners' Chronicle.
A SKETCH' BY LADY. BLESSINGTON.—" ShNdeseribed
Lord

Abercorn's conduct at the priory. She said it was
the most singular place on earth. The moment anybody
became' celebrated they were invited. He had a- great
delight in seeing handsome women. Everybocry, hand-
some-he made Lady Abercorn invite ; and all the guests
shot, hunted, rode, or did what they liked, provided they
never spoke to Lord Abercorn' except at table. Itthey
met him-they were to take ne,notice. At this time Mad-
dens of Warsaw was making a.. noise. Gad, (said Lord
Abercorn,) we must have these Pbrters. Write, my dear
Lady Abereorn.' She wrote: Art.answer came from Jime
Porter that they could not afforiltheexpenses of travelling.:
A cheque was•sent. They arrived. Lord Abercorn peeped
at them as they came through hall, and running 11y.
the private staircase to Lady Abersorn; exclaimed,' Witches
my lady ! I must' be off,' and immediately started post,.
and remained' away till they were- gone."—Haydon's,
Autobiography.
Low AMBITION.—The true pleasure of life is to live
with your inferiors. Be the cock of your village, the
queen of your coterie; and, besides, very great persons,
the people whom Fate has speeiillk endowed with this
kindly consolation are those who' have- seen what are
called better dihys—those who Ita liad-losses. lam like
Caesar, and of- a noble mind; if I ceamot.livfirat in Picca-
dilly let me try Hatton Garden, and sea-whether I cannot•
lead the ton there. If 'I cannot. talde -the lead at White's-
or the Traveller's; let me be president of the Jolly Sand-
boys at the Bag of Nails, and blaekball everybody who
does not pay me honour. If' myalarling Bessy cannot go
out of a drawing-room until a harorret'srniece (ha! ha! a
baronet's niece; forsooth!) has walked' hetbre • her, let us
frequent company where we shall be .the first; and how
can we be the first unless we select our inferiors for our
associates? IT 'ltis kind of pleasureii to he • bad by almost-
everybody, and at scarce any cost: .With a shilling' sworth
of tea and muffins, you can get as much adulation and
respect as many people cannot purchase' a thousand
pounds' worth of plate and profusion, hired footmen, turn-
ing their hearses topsey-turveyland suppers from Gunter's._
Adulation! why, the people who come to-you give as good
parties as you do. Respect! :the very menials who wait.
behind your. sapper-table, waited at a. duke's yesterday„
and actually patronise you! Oh you siny spendthrift, you.
can buy flattery for two-pence,- and you, spend ever so.
much moneyy in entertaining your equal and betters, and.
nobody admires vou!—The Newcomes,

A fIAT'3, EMPLOYMEN ST!' TIER. nreGINGS.—It
early morning, and as yet the only labour going on bear&
upon breakfast. The air is .perfumedi with the scent oC
mutton, for -pans of chops are being-fried at every firer
down all the miles of tent that line th:e river. Stretched;
on the grass, with the pots oftea by their sides, and withi,
huge cuts: of damper co-aered.with mutton in their fists,.
the diggersbreakfast. As, the,sun makes its appearance
over the- Wallaby Rocks.. the. .moraing meal comes to am
end, and Lthe men walk.. off to their claims and cradlea;:
the toololeft in the holes last nigidsare taken up, =dal:it
a short time gold-hunters.: are fillikig.the whole place with
noise. Those at work is the. claims wield picks, shozelo,
and crow-bars ; others, who . carry mug/king stuff frotarthe
holes to the cradles, tarot contirizall,7 backwards andl far-
wards.with the precious dirt, either contained ir,Abags
hung-over their back or in .buckets slung by a yoke-from
their-shoulders. These whose duty it is to wash the stuff
so 'brought to them:are not less hey, and the air resounds
with-the loud clatter •of hundreds. of cradles in NA play,
Thssun rises brighter and higher, and its heat makes
the severe labour oppressive ; last though the perspiration
pours from the digger's brow,. good humour prevails,. and,
tbe -work is carried on, with al. gaiety that robs.tbe really
bard life of its worst fatigues, Occasionally, high above
the rattle of the-cradles or the echoing strokes of the pick,
and crowbar, rises, a, hearty laugh begotten, of a rough;
practical joke perhaps, or atm:lg shouted at thetop of the
voice in time toll* movement of the rockers,. unlooses a.
chorus of imitative longues all down the river. At noon,
a general cesaatiOuof labour. Eight bells is struck upon:
a-prospecting pan by some nautical digger, doubtless a,
runaway sailtir, Natureis again perfumes with mutton;;;
damper, tea, and, chops; are again consumed; On Sul/ally
the attempt at cookery is generally more ambitious—a
joint of meat baked in the camp oveuis sometimes.sab-
stituted for the usue fried mutton, and a plum-duff or
pudding is. also a common luxury upon. the day otrest.
An hour-at the most is allowed on wcrkdays for the:dinner
and a draw at the pipe; labour is then recommenced.
The afternoon, passes away ; the sun begins to east long
shadows. When it altogether disappears behind a range
of hue our work is over—the diggers,iu the bolas throw
down their tools and take up their serge shirts ; the
cradles are washed out for the. last time, and men in
troops. begin to saunter to their tents, conversing as they
ge on what each may have done.—Househakt Words.

A STOAT OF THE 1-113017ENOT PERSECUTION —A
husband and wife attempted to escape separately from
some town in Brittany ; the wife succeeded, and reached
England, where she anxiously awaited her husband. The
husband was arrested in the attempt, and, imprisoned. The
priest alone was allowed to visit him ; and after vainly
using argument to endeavour to persuade him to renounce
his obnoxious religion, the priest, with cruel zeal, had re-
course to physical torture. There was a room in the
prison with an iron floor, and no seat, nor means of support,
or rest ; into this room, the poor Huguenot was introduced.
The iron flooring was gradually heated (one remembers
the gouty gentleman whose cure was effected by a similar
process in " Sandford and Merton ;" but there the heat
was not carried up to torture, as it was in the Huguenot's
case) ; still the brave man was faithful. The process was
repeated ; all In vain. The flesh on the soles of his feet
was burnt off, and he was a cripple for life; but cripple or
sound, dead or alive, a Huguenot he remained. And by-
and-bye, they grew weary of their useless cruelty, and the
poor man was allowed to hobble about on crutches. How
' it was that he obtained his liberty at last, my informant
could not tell. He only knew that, after years of im-
prisonment and torture, a poor grey cripple was seen
wandering about the streets of London, making vain in-
quiries for his wife in his broken English, as little under-
stood by most as the Moorish maiden's cry for " Gilbert,
Gilbert." Some one at last directed him to a coffee-house
near Soho-square, kept by an emigrant, who thrived upon
the art, even then natlonal, of making good coffee. It

was the resort of the Huguenots, many of whom by this
time had turned their intelligence to good account in busy
commercial England. To this coffee-house the poor
cripple hied himself ; but no one knew of his wife ; she
might be alive, or she might be dead ; it seemed as if her
name had vanished from the earth. In the corner sat a
pedlar listening to everything, but saying nothing. He
had come to London to lay in a stock of wares for his

were Norwich, where they established the manufacture of
Norwich-crape ! Spitalfields, in London, where they em-
barked in the silk-trade ; and Canterbury, where a colony

of them carried on one or two delicate emp'

Loyments, suc

as jewellery, wax bleaching, &c. The pedlar took Can-
terbury in his way, and sought among the French resi-
dents for a woman who might correspond to the missing

_ .
dead long since in some of the terrible prisons. But on
hearing the pedlar's tale, she set oft' at once to London,
1 and found her poor crippled husband, who lived many
years afterwards in Canterbury, supported by his wife's
exertions.—Household Worth.

" A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU,-SIR .'
(PROM KIDD'S JOURNAL OF NATURE.)

" A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOIJ, SIR !" will soon be
ringing merrily in all our ears. It is a delightful greet-
ing—savoring of good-temper, good-will, mirth, jollity—
happiness. We shall see, anon, all the good things of this
world gathered together from the four quarters of the
world in unlimited abundance. Our railways will be
blocked up with hampers, boxes, baskets, crates, &c.,—all
well filled with the choicest delicacies of the season. Carts,
wagons, vans, and trucks; all will be full. We shall
see turkeys by the thousand passing to and fro. Game,
too, of all sorts. These will be changing hands with the
rapidity of lightning. A vast multitude of other season-
able delectabilities will also be seen in never-ending supply;
pouring in from one end of the country to the other.

- And what are all these good iiiiiwfOiiMWW3" are
they sent in such lavish abundance at this particular sea-
son ? They are " presents," good people—remembrances
of love and affection from one friend to another. Christmas
is the recognised time for universal rejoicing—the time
when young and old re-assemble ; the latter to rub off the
rust of the past year, and the former to assist in the ope-
ration. Shyness now must be exchanged for a hearty
grasp of the hand (no " two fingers" now !); suspicion for
frankness; jealousy for love unfeigned; cold-hearted-
ness for true charity (which "envieth not ;") and the love
of gold for the love of one another. Such are the proper
elements for the enjoyment of Christmas festivities.

And then—our parlours, our drawing-rooms, our studio,
and sundry other snug "little rooms"—will they not all
shine again—decked in the glories of Holly and Missel-
toe ! And what about the Christmas log, and the bright
fire on the hearth ; and all the winter games, &c., impro-
vised and performed by our merry boys, and laughing,
rosy-faced, innocent, giggling girls I Call we that
nothing ! Hide your ugly features, oh ye cold-blooded,
dried-up prudes, who would forbid our darling mother,
Nature ! to preside at the season of Christmas. In spite
of ye—God willing, " a Merry Christmas" will we have—
aye, and a "Happy New Year." _ _

We have liveilliany years in the world, associated with
the best company, and seen such professions of goodness
as have positively made us tremble. People professing to
hate the world—and yet living as if they seemed to care
for nothing else ! This is the case with one-half the polite
world at least, whilst we are now writing.
It is this deception that we hate. Demure looks, and
faces too feet long, do no manner of good—either to their
possessors or to those who are associated with them. Our
Creator abhors such shallow artifices. With Him it must
be all the heart, or nom. Therefore is it that we so ad-
vocate cheerfulness, honesty, and an obedience to the sweet
laws of Nature.

Playfulness is not wickedness. People may be merry',
and wise withal. We defy any one to say that a
single word from our pen has ever had an evil tendency.
We love society too well for that, and yet we are perpe-
tually cheerful and merry —trying to make others so also.
lioni soil qui mal y pease I say we. So come on,
young and old; and let us set a lesson worthy of imitation
all over the world. " Let us kiss and be friends." In,
boys—in with the Christmas bough ; and let it hang aloft
in the centre of every room in our dwellings !
Bat now, friends, listen. Having drawn the picture of
ore z happy Christmas, we must Loft a leetle further.
Whilst we all hope to be "jolly"—feasting, playing, and
keeping. up " good old customs," witi►in,; let us not for-
get the' immense amount of sorrow and "want" that
awaits he eye without. We see much of it; but alas !
real worth' hides its sorrows in its own BreaSt. ft pines
in secret, and: tells its piteous tale to Onir "-who seeth in
secret." Let lig, one and all, be the happy instruments
in the hand of that Great " One," in trying to, make
" some " helot happy'—P some " sorrows lessi. A certain
widow gave. " two mites." We hear it recorded to• her
honour. It is left as an example for us. We are' not
indulging in cant ;:but we speak the pleasing feelings that
now animate Gar breast. Let not any heart "freak!' that
WE can " bind up." Oh—nu!'
_ _

We would sit" happy" at the•festive board onCliriitinas
Day. To feel "Happy,'' one nrrest have a clear coliscience:
Let us then vie ►ith each other, and see wno 10411 feel.
most happy. Sy, hurrah for Christmas ! and three
Sheers for the delights of loving, and being loved

THE CHURCH'S FESTIVALS

TO THE EDITOR OF THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD,

Sia,—The festival of Christmas has always, by the
Church universal, been observed for the celebration of her
most solemn rites, the offering of her highest praises, and
the decoration of her sanctuaries with appropriate symbols
of her joy and gladness.
Christmas is almost the only period of the Church's
year which has retained a hold upon the affections of
Englishmen, and yet I am sorry to think that the re-
ligious observance of that holy season is much below that
of our ancestors, who, whatever may have been their
errors, put this enlightened age to shame by the earnest-
ness and sincerity with which they walked in the light
which was given them.
It was an ancient practice of the Church to prepare for
the celebration of her joyous festival by a watch, or vigil,
which was generally ended by a midnight service on the
eve of the feast : they were, however, discontinued, ex-
cepting on the eves of the great festivals of Christmas,
Easter, Pentecost, &c., and of these the feast of our
Saviour's nativity has always been so observed, even as
at first the angels announced the glad tidings of great
joy, " while shepherds watched their flocks by night.
Why so appropriate and primitive a custom should have
been suffered to fall into disuse amongst English Church-
men, I have never been able to ascertain, unless it has
been because Rome has retained it, which is, if any, a
very strong reason why we should have done so also; for
it is certain that many Protestants are in the habit of at-
tending "midnight mass" on Christmas-eve, at the Ro-
man chapels of this town ; and to those who know any-
thing of the Romish system it will not appear strange
that some of these, whose religious feelings are likely to
be excited by the beauty which meets the eye, and the
melody which salutes the ear, should be captivated through
their senses, and, if they are not of strong mind, they are
often led by Romish friends to compare the two churches
from a Romish point of view, which, of course, will place
the English Church in a disadvantageous position, and
their faith in it will continue to be steadily undermined
by the zealous and untiring emissaries of Rome. All this
may and does often happen to those who are induced to
attend a service to which they would never have gone, if
an opportunity of attending such were afforded them by
their own Church.

About two years ago a suggestion appeared in one of
your contemporaries, that the observation of the approach-
ing festival of Christmas should be commenced by a mid-
night service in our principal Churches: in only one, St.
Martin's, did the proposition meet with a response: I
attended that service, and though—for reasons I need not
specify—it was not a popular church, the service seemed
to be eminently so; there was about 1,500 of a congrega-
tion, whereas the average attendance at this-church was,
I believe, about 300. Last year the Rev. Dr. Hillcoat, of
St. Matthew's, Scotland-road, had a midnight service,
and there is little doubt that these two churches being
open kept many Protestants out of the neighbouring mass-
house. But why should the practice stop here ? In Lon-
don; Leeds, and other towns the Tractarians have for
sometime revived this ancient custom, and why should
we leave this or any other primitive and Catholic practice
for the sole use and benefit of Romanists and Tractarians ?
I for one cannot see the wisdom of so' doing.

I would remark that the service used upo-n this occasion
did always' inelude, if not entirely consist of, the celebra-
tion of the most solemn rite of the Church—the Holy
Communion, with, of course, a sermon,- At the services
we have already had in this town the usual evening
prayers only have been used,' which are not very appro-
priate. At the' parish churches of Leeds. and Bradford,
where they keep-the' vigil of the feast of Circumcision, or
New Year's Jr,.a they always celebrate TholY Communion,
and I hope we may also. see the same at some church in
this town, on Christmas-eve next. If the Litany were
used, it would ben most appropriate servicel. it, is evident
it never was intended; to confine the use GP that moss
beautiful devotiong composition to the morning service,
bat that it may be seed at other times, at thudiscretion
of the Ordinary; midi the. Bishop of London sanctioned
the use of it at special evening services held' at several
churches in his diocese;: during last Lent, and I feel sure
our own good Bishop wad& sanction its use upon Christ-

mas-eve.
I trust that the above', imperfect remarks, if by your
kindness permitted to appoar.in the Liverpool Standard;
may be•a means .towards attaining the object they advo,
cate; and am, Sir, yours reapevtfully,
A CHURCH. OF ENGLAND MAN.
Liverpool, 13th Dec.,
[tlie‘ views which our correspondent urges with such
moderatiOn will be readily responded to by many
sincere• Churchmen, but a strong objection presents,
itself,. which it will be difficult to overcome, and
the' more• 90 on this occasion; from the day of the
week- on' which Christmas-eve' falls. A midnight
attendance at church in a populous town involves
the• necessity of passing through crowded streets
at a* time when, from the number of drunken ruf-
fians and abandoned women, it is neither prudent
nor safe for' decent people, and especially females, to
beout ; and these evils would be considerably increased
on a Saturday, which is too often devoted by the lower
orders to indulgence in dissipation; .after the receipt of
their.wages. There are also objections from the injury
to, health through, fogs, and the chills occasioned by
sitting in neoldi,damp church.]

TRW" ANGLICAN RACE: AND ITS

CHURCH