The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1841-04-20 00:00:00

" Amongst the faithless faithful only found;"

and, like " a giant refreshed with wine," was about to run
another course—to fight another battle for his lost realm.
We saw him in South Toxteth on the day of that final and
fatal rencontre, and lustily he shouted his war-cry, and
boldly he fought his way, inch by inch, towards the goal of
victory ; but why multiply words ? He never reached that
goal. He was again rejected—was marked double x, and
can now be compared only to the liquid, which bears that
magic name, in a state of complete torpidity—when the
froth has gone down, and the substance is fast turning to

vinegar.
Since that fatal day he has been an object of melancholy
contemplation. Once or twice, indeed, he has seemed to re-
vive. At divers gatherings of his party, in Clayton-square
and elsewhere, he has attempted to exhibit in his accustomed
style and with his former vigour ; but the attempt has only
served to excite the risibility, and pity mingled, of his audi-
tories. On one of these occasions we remember to have
heard that accomplished gentleman, Mr. John Langan, re-
mark, with a profound shake of his Phidian head, that it was
"no go." The gentleman in question evidently saw that
our poor friend was " all abroad"—that " the wind was
knocked out of him"—that he had wandered out of his
sphere, and was not at home in his new element. We are
quite of this opinion ourselves. William Rathbone, Ex-
member of the council and all its committees, is virtually
dead—is Extinct. It is not that great man whom we now
see daily, but his fetch only—some unholy spirit which has
crept into his wardrobe. There is something awful in the
thought, and we gladly turn aside from its contemplation to
the object with which we set out.
Reader, that object is a noble one. We wish to immor-
talise the form and features of this illustrious man, as a relic
for the contemplation of posterity ; but, as we have before
regretted, we have no artist who is competent to the task.
His character—his genius—his eloquence will live for ever;
and shall we allow the shrine of all these distinguished qua-
lities to perish? No. The outward man—the precious
casket—must be perpetuated likewise, that the world, in
days to come, may be able to contemplate the beau ideal of
a " liberal" town-councillor of the present day. We pro-
pose, then, with a due sense of the importance attached to
the subject, that our poor friend be forthwith " swathed up"
and converted into A MUMMY, at the expense of the com-
munity, and deposited in some prominent position within the
council chamber—the scene of all his past glories. Let the
most experienced artists which the shores of the Nile can
furnish be immediately employed. We would not lose a
button of his coat, a thread of his cravat, or a portion of the
nap of ..his beaver, for worlds ; but preserve all, even to his
very umbrella, in those rare essences which have kept entire,
for thousands of years, the Pharoahs and the Cheopses of
that land of mystery and wonder. We have no doubt that
his friend, and for so many years his collaborateur, Dr.
Blackburn, would carefully superintend the process.
What a delightful thought it will be to councillors yet un-
born, when in that chamber shall be contained so invaluable
a treasure ! How proudly will they point to the hieroglyphics
which will adorn the case in which the relic is deposited, and
rehearse the virtues and narrate the exploits of its occupant.
And at the end of some thousand years, when, according to
the prediction of Mr. Daniel O'Connell, " a traveller from
New Zealand will be seen sketching the last arch of London
Bridge," with what awe and admiration the lover of antiquity
will approach this treasure ! Imagination bears us forward
to the scene. We see the learned of that advanced era con-
gregated in speechless wonder around this noble specimen of
the present age. We see fold after fold of the covering care-
fully withdrawn. We see present itself—imprimis, that
inimitable beaver, after the lapse of centuries still perfect—
still unapproached and unapproachable in taste and style.
But the contemplation overcomes us. The subject is too
momentous to be discussed in the columns of a journal even
like ours ; and we shall therefore publish a pamphlet so soon
as the eclat of Mr. Alderman Evans has subsided, in which
we may discuss it fully.