The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-01-13 00:00:00

Aggregate average of the six weeks.
s. 61. I Barley 325. 7d. I Oats 235. 9d. I Rye 343. 7d
Beans.. 40s. Od. I Pease.. 425. 4d.

' Duty 04 Foreign Produce this week .
Wheatlss Od I Barley 6s lid Oats .. . 5s Od I Rye.
Beans 2s 6d I Pease.. Is Od Ind. Corn Os Od Flou

Duty on Canadian.
Wheat.. Is. od. I Barley.. os. 6d. I Oats ..1
Beans Os. 6d 1 Pease os.6d. I lan. Corn os

0.6 d. f R 3

d. 1 Flour . Os 7id

Duty on other British Colonial.
Wheat.. 2s. Od. I Barley.. Os. bd. I Oats, 0,6 d. Rye
Beans.. Os. 6d. I Pease.. Vs. 6d. I Flour. is. 2.

Liverpool Averages, week ending 6th Jan., 1845.
Wheat, 2841 qts., price 558 7d ; Barley, 29 qrs., price 30,
Oats, 604 qrs., price 265. 2d. ; Rye, qrs., price —s.
Beans, qrs., os. ; Pease, qrs., Os. Od.

THE EARTHQUAKE OF 1750.—1 n speaking of the pre•
dieted earthquake, and the fsncied shock of 1750, Horace
Walpole gives some forcible illustrations of the English
characters of that day. On the day of its expected occur-
ence, he says, Dick Leveson and Mr. Rigby, who had
supped and stayed late at Bedford House the night be-
fore, knocked at several doors, and in a watchman's voice
cried cried '• past four o'clock, and a dreadful earth-
quake." Again, Turner, the celebrated chinaman, had a
jar which be declared had; been cracked by the shock;
', he originally (sips Horace) asked ten guineas for the
pair ; he now asks twenty, because 'tis the only jar in
Europe that has been cracked by an earthquake !!'—

" But what will you think (he adds) of lady Lucy Cathe-

. .
way, who go this evening to an inn, ten miles out of
town, where they are to play at brag till five in the morn- '
ins.h, and then come back-1 suppose to look for the bones
of their husbands and families under the rubbish ! "
LITERARY REWARDS IN THE DAYS OF GEORGE 111.
—The accession of George 111. opened a new and brighter
prospect to men of literary merit, who had been honoured
with no mark of royal favour in the preceding reign.
The new minister, Lord Bute, gave a pension of £3OO
a•year to Dr. Johnson, and the same sum to Home, the
author of Douglas. Boattie and Mallet were pensioned
by the crown. The King condescended to converse with
Dr. Johnson. His minister recommended a literary
work of great national importance to the pen of Walpole,
and held out hopes that the work would meet with the
encouragement of government. But Bute went out of
power, and nothing was done. Dr. Shebbeare and Tom
Sheridan each received a pension. The king, it was said,
had pensioned a he-boar, meaning Dr. Johnson, as well
a she-bear (Dr. Shebbeare). No one knew why Tom
Sheridan received a pension. " What !" said Johnson,
" have they given him a pension ? Then it is time for me
to give up mine." The wisdom of rewarding literature
in the person of Tom Sheridan may well be doubted.
Mallet had no great claims upon the government as a
literary man. Ilis ballad, it is true, is very beautiful;
but William and Margaret did nothing for him. He was
pensioned for the dirty work he had executed for a
ministry in want of support. Many writers of sterling
reputation were in the mean time overlooked. The de-
lightful author of The Vicar of Wakefield became, for
very existence, a mere literally hack or drudge for book-
sellers. "In Ireland," says Goldsmith, " there has been
more money spent in the encouragement of the Padareen
ware, than given in rewards to literary men since the time
of Usher." Sinollett sought the assistance of Lord
Shelburne, then in power, but nothing was done for the
entertaining novelist ; and he was allowed to end his days
in perpetual exile, pinched in his means, and enfeebled
in body, from the incessant employment of his pen.
Burns was snatched from the sickle and the plough "to
gauge ale firkins," and support a wife and family on the
poor emoluments of an excisemen's office A word to
the Commissioner's of Excise in Scotland, from one who
quoted his poems to Mr. Addington with the highest ap-
probation, would have given him a lift in his office, glad-
dened the hearth, and lengthened the life of a true-born
poet. \%e refer to Mr. Pitt ; when Mr. Addington re-
minded that great statesman of the poet's genius, and the
poor situation it was his lot to fill, Mr. Pitt promised to
do something for him, pushed the bottle on, and remem-
bered his promise, if he remembered it at all, when the
floe-hearted poet of genuine nature,
" Who to the' Illustrious' of his native land,
So properly did look for patronage,"
as, alas, now more !—Freaer's Mayazine.

CROMWELL'S EJECTION OF THE RUMP PARLIAMIOII'
—Wednesday, 20th April, 1653. My Lord General or
cordingly is in his reception-room this morning, "111
plain black clothes and gray worsted stockings;" be, with
many officers : but few members have yet come, though
punctual Bulstrode and certain others are there. Sanaa
waiting ; some impatience that the members would cons&
The members do not come : instead of members, comes°
notice that they are getting On with their bill in the houee.;
hurrying it double-quick through all the stages. Posts!.
ble ? New message that it will be law in a little while, If
no interposition take place ! Bulstrode hastens off to the
house : my Lord General, at first incredulous, does also
now hasten off ; nay, orders that a Company of Muske-
teers of his own regiment attend him. Hastens off, with
a very high expression of countenance, I think ;—saying
or feeling : Who would have believed it of them ? "
is not honest ; yea, it is contrary to common honesty !"---
My Lord General, the big hour is come ! Young Colon!!
Sidney, the celebrated Algernon, sat in the house this
morning ; a house of some fifty-three. Algernon has left
distinct note of the affair ; less distinct we have from Bill'
strode, who was also there, who seems in some points to
be even wilfully wrong. Solid Ludlow was far off in Ire-
land, but gathered many details in after-years ; and faith-
fully wrote them down in the unappeasable indignation of
his heart. "The Parliament sitting as usual, and being
in debate upon the bill with the amendments, which it
was thought would have been passed that day, the Lord
General Cromwell came into the house, clad in plain black
clothes and gray worsted stockings, and sat down, as he
used to do, in an ordinary place." For some time he lis-
tens to this interesting debate on the bill ; beckoning
once to Harrison, who came over to him, and answered
dubitatingly. Whereupon the Lord General sat still, for
about a quarter of an hour longer. But now the question
being to be put, that this bill do now pass, he ceckons
again to Harrison, says, " This is the time ; I must do

. - -
so " rose up, put off his hat, and, spake. At
the first, and for a good while, he spake to the commen-
dation of the Parliament for their pains and care of the
public good; but afterwards he changed his style, told
them of their injustice, delays of justice, self-interest, and
other faults,"—rising higher and higher, into a very ag-
gravated style indeed. An honourable member. Sir Peter
Wentworth by name, not known to my readers, and by
me better known than trusted, rises to order, as we phrase
it ; says, " It is a strange language this; unusual within
the walls of Parliament this ! And from a trusted servant
too ; and one whom we have so highly honoured ' • and
one"—" Come, come !" exclaims my Lord General in a
very high key, " we have had enough of this"—and
fazt my Lord General now blazing all up into clear con-
flagration, exclaims, " I will put au end to your prating,
and steps forth into the floor of the house, and " clapping
on his hat," and occasionally " stamping the floor with
his feet," begins a discourse which no man can report
He says—Heavens ! he is heard saying : " It is not fit
that you should zit here any longer !" You have sat too
long here for any good you have been doing lately. " Yotl,
shall now give place to better men !—Call them in 1'
adds he briefly, to Harrison, in word of command and
"some twenty or thirty" grim musketeers enter. with
bullets in their snapchances ; grimly prompt for orders;
and stand in some attitude of carry-arms there. Veteran
men : men of might and men of war, their faces are as the
faces of lions, and their feet are swif, as the roes upon the
mountains ;—not beautiful to honourable gentlemen at
this moment ! " You call yourselves a Parliament,"
continues my Lord General in a cl,ar blaze of conflagra•

tion : " You are no Parliament! Some of you are drun-
kards," and his eye flashes on poor Mr. Cha'oner. an
official man of some value, addicted to the bottle ;
" some of you are -." and he glares into Harry Mar-
ten, and the poor Sir Peter who rose to order, lewd livers
both ; ".living in open contempt of God's Command-
ments. Following your own greedy appetites, and the
Devil's Commandments. ' Corrupt unjust persons,' "
and here I think he glanced at Sir Bulstrode Whitlocke,
one of the Commissioners of the Great Seal, giving him
and others very sharp language, though he named them
no

Corrupt unjust persons ; scandalous to the pro-
fession of the Gospel :' how can you be a Parliament for
God's People? Depart, I say ; and let us have done with
you. In the name of God—go !" The house is of course
all on its feet—uncertain almost whether not on its bead
such a scene as you never seen before in any House of
Commons. History reports with a shudder that my Lord
Gene ral, lifting the sacred Mace itself, said, " What shall
we do with this bauble ? Take it away !"—and gave it to
a musketeer. And now—" Fetch him doivn !" says he to
Harrison, flashing on the Speaker. Speaker Lenthall,

more an ancient Roman than anything else, declares be
will not come till forced. " Sir,' said Harrison, " I will
lend you a band ;" on which Speaker Lenthall came down,
and gloomily vanished. They all finished • flooding
gloomily clamorously out, to their ulterior businesses,
and respective places of abode : the Long Parliament is
dissolved ! " It's you that have forced me to this," ex-
claims my Lord General : " I have sought the Lord night
and day, that he would rather slay me than put me upon
the doing of this work."— Carlyle's Oliver Cromwell':
Letters and Speeches.

CITY TlME.—Among the many peculiar features which
distinguish city from country life, not the least striking In
the different estimation in which time is regarded. In
the country, the rustic plods along the row!, or leans over
a stile, unknowing and uncaring for the hour, much less
the minute. The deep tones of the church bell tell their
tale to very careless and inattentive hearers ; and the
countryman thinks his watch correct enough if it be with-
in a quarter of an hour of the village clock, in whose ac-
curacy he places as much confidence as if old Time him-
self had the winding up of it every day. Very different,
however, is the manner in which time is estimated in a
large city. There, where thousands of persons congregate,
and where business of great magnitude is hourly trans-
acted, it is of importance that. strict punctuality be ob-
served—that the standard of time be correct—and that
time, even its most fractional parts, be not despised. Of
course, without this arrangement, no plans or purposes
could be satisfactorily carried out, and all would be
disorder, uncertainty, and disappointment. It is, how-
ever, in a colossal city like London that we see to per-
fection Time exercising his uncontrolled dominion ; and
perhaps no city in the world could furnish such striking
illustrations of its paramount importance. Here it is not
enough that your watch is right by the parish clock ; the
question is, is it in accordance with St, Paul's or the
Horse Guards ? No genuine Londoner would think of
passing either of those chronological standards without
setting his watch right by it ; which, having done, he;
talks of the time with authority, and right by St. Paul's'
is an assertion which cuts short the dispute. In passing
along the streets, too, what anxious pulling out of watches
by evidently belated pedestrians, is observable on every
hand ; what rating of omnibus conductors for having
stopped for full five minutes.' Here a traveller, with
his greatcoat and carpet-bag, and his face glowing like a
red coal, urges his way along the crowded street, fearful
of being too late for the train ; and there a cab is stuck
fast in a crowded thoroughfare, the inmate of which raves
that the steamer will have started in enother three mi-
nutes. Here a tradesman from the west end is burn,'
ing to get his cheque cashed at the banking-house, the
appointed hour fur closing which is even now ready to
strike ; and there a country gentleman has arrived just in
time to see the door of the public-office whither he was
bustling closed against him. Appointments are made to
the minute; and a delay of five or ten minutes in keeping
one, is at the hazard of disarranging the next. Clocks
are conspicuous in most of the better descripti.•n of shops
watches are ticking in every business-man's packet.
How goes the enemy ?' is one of the commonest imam'
ries ; and everything testifies to the immense importance
of time in the social arrangements of a great city. As 01
boundr

,ne immense establishments with which ,ondon
and especially in the government offices, punctuality is of
the first importance, some amusing illustrations of the
value of time, even in its vulgar fractions, are there exbi°
bited, which, to the eye of a stranger, are very striking►
and are probably, from the national superiority of our be.'
siness-habits, unique. In the morning, as the clock ill
about to strike nine, omnibuses and stages draw up in tbC
vicinity of the bank, filled with well-dressed, gentle'
menlike men. The thousand and one' clerks are ar-
riving, all of whom are required to be at their post by the
precise time, under pain of a fine. The old st ger whc),
has filled his situation these for the last three quarters 0'
a century, and fears lest, peradventure, something on the
road might detain him, and who prides himself not a lit-
tle on his punctuality, always contriv- --ve his house

c, sea to leave, _
in the suburbs, where most of the clerks reside, a few tay
nutes before the necessary time ; but some of the younger
ones, who are not so wary, show by their flushed faces the
quick step they have been obliged to adopt in order to ar-
rive in time. Another and another omnibus unburdens
itself of its load ; quick as thought the ' thirkeen inside
and five out' are hurrying to the bank gate ;gouty 01°
gentlemen hobble up to the entrance with all the quic,l,`:
ness they can muster ; and at ten minutes past nine, t'''"
twice five hunlred men are at their desks ready for ac-
tion. Still more animated and striking is the scene at
the General Post-office in St. Martin's-le-Grand a fell
minutes before six o'clock in the evening. At a quarter
before six the fray has scarcely commenced ; there is am-
ple time and few care to hurry themselves, except it be
some unaccustomed dame, who eagerly inquires whethl
she is too late to post her letter. But the miriute-hae f
silently moves onwards, and boys arrive with bags
et
newspapers and packets of letters, which are poured in!:
the all-receiving window. Onwards, onwards moves the
minute band ; only five minutes to the hour—and has
and men come hurryi,ig in from all parts with letters air.
papers, the young urchins glorying in just ' nicking the
time.' Bag after bag is thrown in at the window, at the
peril of the official who stands there to receive there;
packet after packet of letters being aimed at him by 06,,
respective and irrespective bearers. St. Paul's clock
strikes—one; still more and more come running up the
steps—ln o, a cab draws up, and a sack of newspapers 1a
hastily hauled out and thrown in at the window—three, 7
Porter puffs up at his very quickest speed with a bag
letters—four, a panting, f. eagre horse arrives, and an-
other sack of papers is safety lodced—five, a young bare-
armed paper-capped urchin pours a his armful of Sufi!
and Globes—six. the window-keeeper unceremonious?,
slams to the shutter, and the score of surrounding t,I,Lb
chins, having safely deposited their burd'ens, salute cy",,
a shout of derision the disconsolate lad who rushes uP
the place with his packet one minute too late.—Chamber
Edinburgh Jori?nal.

THE "GENEVESE TRAVELLER."—Matthew L. Da:ll,,°.
Esq., of New York, is the writer of the letters svhic;;
under the above signature, appear in The Times. tleu'i
also the author of " The Spy in 'Washington," of Ws
" Biography of Aaron Barr," and is now the writer of,
series of articles signed"A Calm Observer," which apPe'r
in the Washington National Intelligences.
The largest carriage built in England for many yea
has just been completed by a maker in London, from
rough timbers, in the incredibly short space of twen"„
three days. The consturction being different from !n,
carriage yet built in this country, delayed its completi°o'o
It is painted a brilliant celestial blue, relieved with bold
white, and is a perfect specimen of art. It is `fate
to be for the Emperor of Russia.