The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1849-09-11 00:00:00

VARIETIES.

At the York Assizes, 1649, (200 years ago,) a woman
was condemned for crucifying her mother, and offering
a calf and a cock a burnt sacrifice. Her husband also wtOi
hanged as an accomplice of her guilt.
It is said that. every boy-servant on a farm requires a
man to look after him. The following is also a rural say,
log One boy is a boy ; two boys are half a boy ; and
three boys are ne er a boy at all."
UNE Yesuvieteee.—An Irishman, after expatiating
very warmly upon the temper and beauty of Lola Montes,
was asked if she didn't smoke ? " Yes, sir, she does," he
exclaimed " and so does every volcano—perhaps you'll
show me the lovely crater who doesn't smoke 7"
" That's a fine stream for trout," observed a piscato-
rial acquaintance to a genuine sprig of the Emerald Isle,
who was whipping away with great vigour at a well known
and favourite stream. " Faith an' it must he the same
sure enough," returned Pat, " for deuce a one on'etn will
stir out of it."
The first weeping willow in England was planted by
Pope, the poet. lie received a present of figs from Tur-
key, and observing a twig in the basket, ready to bud, he
planted it in his garden, and it soon became a fine tree.
From this stock all the weeping willows in England and
America originated.
TUE TRAVELLING DUTCHMAN.—It would be a
curious problem to follow out the probable mental specu-
lations of a Dutchman. Can he have any amour de
patrie ? How does he know, when he is away in Japan,
or elsewhere, but that his country may have been en-
gulphed by an inundation ? It must always be a dubious
matter with him to talk ahout his native land. He can
never be sure that it is still in existence. Besides, it is
not so much his native land as his native water. What a
terrible tremor he must be in when he writes home to his
wife, and directs his letter to the pleasant " Sans Souci"
which it may never reach. With what nervous misgivings
he must talk to strangers of the united family he left be-
hind him, and of their affectionate anxiety about ids
safety ! Then, again, what must be his amazement when
he first travels and sees a mountain ? What must he
think of a running stream, or a torrent tumbling down
an Alpine precipice ? What must be his emotions, and
what the perplexities of his breathing apparatus, when he
gets into the sunny south ? How astonished he must he
when, for the first time, he sees a clear horizon many
leagues off, and gazes over a champaign dotted with
towns and rural domains, in which every item is palpable
and distinct. There are such strange things awaiting the
senses and the imagination of a Dutchman in a foreign
country, that he must surely think himself translated
into another country.

AN AMERICAN STORY OF A Fox AND GOOSE.—The
narrator was one day in :the fields, near a stream where
several geese were swimming. Presently he observed one
disappear under the water with a sudden jerk. While he
looked for her to rise again he saw a fox emerge from the
water and trot off to the weeds, with the goose in his
mouth. He chanced to go in a direction where it was
easy for the man to watch his movements. He carried
his burden to a recess under an overhanging rock. Here
he scratched away a mass of dry leaves, scooped a hole,
hid his treasure within, and covered it up very carefully.
Then off he went to the stream again, entered some dis-
tance behind the flock of geese, and floated noiselessly
along, with merely the tip of his nose visilale above the
surface. But this time he was not so fortunate in his
mancevres. The eeese, by some accident, took the alarm,
and flew away, with loud cackling. The fox finding him-
self defeated, walked off in a direction opposite to the
place where his victim was buried. The man uncovered
the hole, put the goose in his basket, replaced the lea:es
carefully, and stood patiently at a distance to watch fur-
ther proceedings. The sly thief was soon seen returning
with another fox he had invited to dine with him. They
trotted along right merrily, swinging their tails, snuffing
the air, and smacking their lips, in anticipation of a rich
repast. When they arrived under the rock, reynard
eagerly snatched away the leaves ; hut lo ! his dinner had
disappeared. He looked at his companion, and plainly
saw by his countenance that he more than misdoubted
whether any goose was there as pretended. lie evidently
considered his friend's hospitality a sham and himself in-
sulted. his contemptuous expression was more than the
mortified fox could bear. Though conscious of his gene.
rous intentions, he felt that all assurances to that effect
would be regarded as lies. Appearances were certainly
very much against him ; for his tail slunk between his
legs, and he held his head down, looking sideways, with
a sneaking glance, at his disappointed companion. In-
dignant at what he supposed to be an attempt to get up a
character for generosity on false pretences, the offended
guest seized his unfortunate host and cuffed him most
unmercifully. Poor reynard bore the infliction with the
utmost patience, and sneaked off, as if conscious that be
had received no more than might naturally be expected
under the circumstances.—Letters from New York.
THE QUEEN IN IRELAND.—It was a noble spectacle to
behold a young Queen, at a time when scarce a monarch
in Europe was secure on his throne, setting out with her
illustrious consort and family to make a royal progress
through her dominions, and selecting for the first place of
her visit the island which had so recently raised the stan-
dard of rebellion against her government, and for the next
the city which had first in the empire responded to the
cry of treason raised in Paris, on the overthrow of the
throne of Louis Philippe. Nor has the result failed to
correspond, even more happily than could have been
hoped, to the gallant undertaking. If it be true, as is
commonly reported, that our gracious sovereign said.
4` She went to Ireland to snake friends, but to the Land
of Cakes to find them," she must by this time have been
convinced that the generous design has, in both islands,
proved successful beyond what ner most enthusiastic
friends could have dared to hope. Who could have re-
cognised, in the multitudes which thronged to witness her
passage through Cork, Dublin, and Belfast, and the uni-
versal acclamation with which she was everywhere received.
by all classes of her subjects, the chief cities of an island
long torn by civil disention, and which had only a year
before broken out into actual rebellion against her govern-
ment? Who could have re cognised in the youthful sove-
reign visiting the public buildings of Dublin, like a private
peeress, without any of the state of a sovereign, and
chiefly interested with her royal consort in the institutions
devoted 0 beneficence, the Head of a Government whom
The Nation had so long represented as callous to all the
sufferiugs of the people? And during the magnificent
spectacle of the royal progress through Glasgow, where
five hundred thousand persons were assembled from that
great city, and the neighbouring counties to see their
Queen—and she passed for three miles through stately
structures, loaded with loyalty, under an almost continued
archway of flags, amidst incessant and deafening cheers—
who could have believed he was in a city in which demo-
cratic revolt had actually broken out only eighteen months
before, and the walls had all been placarded, on the day
when London was menaced, with treasonable proclama-
tions, calling on the people to rise in their thousands and
tens of thousands against the throne ? And how blessed
the contrast to the condition of Scotland when•her last
Queen had been in that neighbourhood, and the towers of
Glasgow cathedral looked down on Morton issuing from
the then diminutive borough, to assail, in the immediate
vicinity at Langside, the royal army headed by Mary, and
drive her to exile, captivity, and death.—[lt is a curious
coincidence, that the first man whom her Majesty met
with and addressed, when she landed at Glasgow, was the
Earl of Morton, the lineal descendant of the ruthless ba-
ron whose arms then proved so fatal to her beautiful and
unfortunate ancestress.]—We are not foolish enough to
expect impossibilities from the Queen's visit—how splen-
did and gratifying soarer its circumstances may have been.
We know well how many and deep-rooted are the social
-evils which in both islands afflict society, and we are not
so simple as to imagine that they will be removed by the
sight of the Sovereign, as the innocent peasants believe
that all physical diseases will be cured by the royal touch.
We ire well aware that the impression of even the most
splendid pageants is often only transitory, and that sad
realities sometimes return with accumulated force after
they are over, from the contrast they present to imagina-
tive vision. Still a step, and that, too; a most important
one, has been taken in the right direction, If great, and,
in some respects, lasting good has been done—if evils re-
main, 99 remain they ever will, in the present complicated
condition of society, and the contending interests which
agitate its bosom—one evil, and that the greatest of all,
is lessened, and that is an estrangement between the
People and their Sovereign. Crimes may return • but the
recurrence of the greatest of all, because it is the parent
of all others—high treason—is for a time, to any extent at
least, rendered impossible. The most sacred and impor-
tant of all bonds, that which unites the sovereign and her
subjects, has been materially strengthened. The most
noble of all feelings, the disinterested affection of a peo-
ple to their Queen, has been called into generous and
heart-stirring action. The " unbought loyalty of men,
the cheap defence of nations." is not at an end. And it
the effect of the Royal Visit were only that, in the greatest
cities of her dominions, our gracious sovereign, in an age
unusually devoted to material influences, has succeeded,
by the sweetness and grace of her manners, in causing the
hearts of some hundred thousands of her subjects to throb
with loyal devotion, and, for a time at least, supplanted
the selfish by the generous emotions—the effect is not lost
to the cause of order and the moral elevation of her peo-
plc.—Marl:wood's Magazine.

PROPHECIES OF PFAC E.—On the 21st of January,l792.
the French National Assembly recorded a solemn resolu-
tion not to enter into any war, except strictly in self-de-
fence. On the 31st of the same month George 111.
opened the British Psrliament with a speech congratulat-
ing the country on the prospect of continued peace, and a
consequent reduction of our naval and military expendi-
ture. Towards the close of the same session, Mr. Pitt
said in the House of Commons, "England never had a
fairer prospect of a long continuance of peace. I think
we may confidently reckon on peace for ten years." The
treaty of 1786 had then established all but perfect freedom
of trade between England and France, and the trade be-
tween the two countries had increased rapidly during the
intervening six years. In the same year (1792) the peo-
ple of Orleans had, in a burst of enthusiastic good will
towards England, thrown down the statue of Joan of Arc
erected in their market place—for the .voiced reason that
it had been erected to commemorate a triumph over their
new allies. But in February, 1793. France had begun
with England, Holland, and Austria, the war which lasted
:almost without intermission tilt 1815."

A CHINESE BANKER.—I availed myself of the oppor-
tunity to accompany him to the banker's, whose house
we found in a street of banks (every particular trade is
confined in a great measure to its own street), situated in
a suburb of the Tungmun oecast gate. We were kindly
received by one of the partners of the establishment, and
after the usual ceremonies, peculiar to the entry to a Chi-
nese dwelling, viz., obliging the guests to be seated and
serving them with tea, my friend immediately produced
the bank check. The corresponding part of the bank
book had been sent overland, and was no sooner produced
than being proved to be satisfactory, the money was
offered in exchange. My friend did not ask in vain to be
allowed to take only one hundred dollars at a time, the
sum taken being each time marked on the order. As soon
as he had specified the quantity rtquired, four men took
positions at a small table near a huge iron-studded strong
box, which was no sooner opened, than, for a minute or
two, each had his employment ; one counted, a second
cleaned off all old marks, a third renewed, with an Indian
ink stamp, the seal of the bank, while a fourth, with blot-
ting paper, dried it. The object of the stamping was, in
the ease of any being spurious on being presented with
the house-stamp thereon, for them to be changed ; of
course this never happened : while, on the other hand, it
deterred any artful person from bringing bad money to
the hank on pretence that it had been drawn therefrom.—
Five Years in China.

ANECDOTE OF A YOUNG LADY.—I find among my
papers a curious anecdote of my dear Margaret, which I
am sorry to have omitted. Our governess, Henrietta
C—, amidst many faults, was passionately fond of her,
but did not spare her when she was wrong. On a certain
occasion, I forget what, " If you do so again," said she,
" Lady Margaret, devil take me if I do not whip you
severely"—adding, "You do not mind what I say, and,
therefore, I swear to it." Margaret, at no great distance
of lime, committed the same sin. " I see now how you
have attended to what I told you," said Henrietta ; "if
this happens once more, I positively must whip you."
" I do remember what you told me," said Margaret,
" and you are bound to whip me.". " I certainly shall
the very first time you do so." "No, Miss C—, you
must whip me now; you swore to it, and said, devil teke
me if you would not whip me severely." Henrietta
acknowledged it, but said this once she would excuse
her. " And will God excuse you ? No." said Margaret,
" I insist upon it that you whip me directly." Henrietta
remonstrated ; Margaret cric,d, expecting every moment
to see the devil take away the governess. At last she
carried the point, and was laid on her knee; but Hen-
rietta feeling no anger, and being full of admiration of the
culprit, who was insisting on a flogging to save her soul,
instead of inflicting the punishment quietly, bellowed so
loud herself at every stroke as to bring my mother into
the room, who soon settled the business. Margaret
was to receive four lashes only ; for though Henrietta bad
sworn to whip her severely, she had not said what
number of lashes she was to give her.—Lives of the
Lindeays.

ORDEAL AMONG THE AMERICAN INDIANS.—During
four days previous to this terrible torture, the candidates
observe a strict fast, and are denied all sleep. When the
appointed day arrives, certain strange ceremonies, cf an
allegorical description, are performed, in which all the
inhabitants of the village take part. The candidates then
repair to a large caban, where the chiefs and elders of the
tribe are assembled to witness the ordeal. The torture
commences by driving splints of wood through the flesh
of the back and breasts of the victim; he is next hoisted
off the ground by ropes attache(' to these splints, and
suspended by the quivering flesh, while the tormentors
twist the hanging body slowly round, thus exquisitely
enhancinc, the agony, till a death-taint comes to the relief
of the candidate; he is then lowered to the ground, and
left to the care of the Great Spirit. When be recovers
animation, he rises and proceeds on his hands and feet
to another part of the caban. He *ere lays the little
finger of the left hand upon a buffalo skull, as a sacrifice
to the Great Spirit, and another Indian chops it off. The
fore-finger is also frequently offered up in this manner:
this mutilation does not interfere with the use of the
bow, the only weapon for which the left hand is required.
Other" cruel tortures are inflicted for some time, and at
length the wretched victim, reeling and staggering from
the intensity of his suffering, reaches his own dwelling,
where he is placed under the care of his friends. Scare
of the famous warriors of the tribe pass through this hor-
rible ordeal repeatedly, and the oftener it is endured the
greater is their estimation among their people. No ban-
dages are applied to the wounds t bus inflicted, nor is any
attention paid to their cure ; but from the extreme ex-
haustion and debility caused by want of sustenance and
sleep, circulation is checked and sensibility diminished ;
the bleeding and inflammation are very slight, and the
results are seldom injurious—Warburion's Conquest of
Canada.

LOLA MONTEZ IN MONKTVEARMOUTIL—III a letter to
the Sunderland Herald, Mr. J. G. Grant gives his rend- •
niscences of Miss Gilbert, now Mrs. Heald. In 1831, •
Mr. and Mrs. Rae came to Monkwearmouth, to establish 1
a boarding-school, and were accompanied by Eliza Gil-
bert,
then aged ten or eleven years; Mrs. Rae being the
sister to her stepfather, Major Craigie, who had confided
her to their charge. Mr. Grant became Eliza's teacher
in drawing : of the name of " Rosanna," afterwards used
by her, he then beard nothing. She was "an elegant
and beautiful child ; of stature rather promising to be tall
than actually such for her age, but symmetrically formed,
and with a flawing, graceful carriage, the charm of which
was only lessened by an air of confident self-complacency,
in full accordance with the habitual expression of her else
beautiful countenance, namely, that of indomitable self-
will. Her features were regular, but capable of great and
rapid changes of expression. Her complexion was orien-
tally dark, but transparently clear; her eyes were of a
deep blue, of excessive beauty, althour.,ll bright with less
indication of the gentle and tender affections of her sex
than of more stormy and passionate excitements. The
mouth, too, had a singularly set character, far more allied
to the determined than to the voluptuous, and, altogether,
it was quite impossible to look at her for any length of
time without feeling convinced that she was made up of
very wayward and very troublesome elements. The ex-
treme violence and obstinacy, indeed, of her temper gave
too frequent cause of painful anxiety to her good, kind
aunt. Her animal spirits were naturally very great. She
romped as assiduously as any girl of her age, danced
gracefully, talked with great animation in her merry
moods, and seemed altogether what is called ' a clever
child.' But how little could any cne have conceived that
in a few years the little high-spirited child of Monkwear-
mouth would become the dangerous heroine of a foreign
nation, the prodigy of a court! Oh, too famous Cleopa-
tra of an inglorious Antony ! would shake a whole king-
dom with revolutionary disturbance, and, in the scale of a
monarch's passions, make that kingdom lighter than the
fascinations of her perilous beauty."
THE LATE WILLIAM JOSEPH DENISON, M.P.—The
history of the Denison family, the last representative of
which died recently, leaving a fortune of two millions and
a half, affords a lesson which the mercantile world cannot
study too curiously. Little more than a century ago the
elder Denison made his way on foot to London from
Skipton-in-Craven, his native place, with a few shillings
in his pocket, and, being a parish boy, not knowing even
how to read or write. He was recommended by a towns-
woman of his own (of the name of Sykes, whom he after-
wards married) to the house of Dillon and C 0.,, wnere sho
was herself a domestic servant; and for some time the lad
was employed to sweep the shop and go on errands. His
zeal and industry recommended him, however, to his em-
ployers, and having been taught to read, he rose to a
clerkship. After the death of his wife he obtained an
independence by marrying one Elizabeth Bolter, daughter
of a rich hatter in Tooley-street, and set up in business
for himself in Princes-street, Lothbury, where the late
Mr. Denison and the Marchioness of Conyngham were
born. Here, by incessant attention to business and strict
parsimony, he managed to scrape together a considerable
fortune, and finally removed to St. Mary Axe, where he
lived and died, after having purchased the estates in Surrey
and Yorkshire, (of Lord. King and the Duke of Leeds,)
i Denbies and Seamere. The Annual Revisler of 1806, in
recording these facts and his end, states that through life
Mr. Denison was a Dissenter. He remained to the last
an illiterate man, aria even his son was, for his station in
life, somewhat loose in his orthography. One of his
daughters espoused the head of•the Cobyngliam
then recently ennobled. But a connexion far more im-
portant to Mr. Denison was with the Heywoods, the
eminent bankers of Liverpool, whose intelligence enabled
him to double his fortune. The late William Joseph, a
man of sound principles and excellent character, though
less penurious than his father, who, when lie entertained
a friend at dinner in St. Mary Axe, used to walk to the
butcher's and bring home a rump-teak in a cabbage-leaf
in his pocket, as many persons still living can witness,
was remarkable for his disinclination to detach even the
smallest sum from his enormous capital. Three years
ago, when the nephew to whom he has bequeathed
£85,000 per annum fell into railway difficulties, (the spe-
culation having been undertaken with the sanction of his
uncle,) he permitted him to fly from the writs out against
him to the semi-penal settlement of Boulogne-sur-Mer,
and reside there a twelvemonth with his young family,
rather than come down with a sum of X2OOO. Yet to this
very gentleman—a man of the nicest honour—he had at
that very period bequeathed more than two millions.
Some surprise has been excited at the smallness of his
bequest to his elder nephew, the Marquis of Cony ngham ;
but no one knew better than Mr. Denison the enormous
amount of savings amassed by his lordship's mother, the
Dowager Marchioness, to which the Marquis is sole heir.
The name of Denison, we understand, is to be perpetuated
in the banking-house in Lombard-street, though the fa-
mily is in the male line extinct. it has always been un-
derstood that a peerage was offered to the late banker,
through the intervention of his sister, who obtained a
marquisate for her lord and a barony for her brother-in-
law ; hut the honour was respectfully declined by the
stanch old Whig, who, conscious that one of his grandfa-
thers was a hatter and the other a labourer, considered
that his patronymic was more in its place at the head of
his own ledger than in the pages of the peerage.