The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1854-03-07 00:00:00

VARIETIES.

HEREDITARY TRA.N£I3IIBSION OE DEBATING POWER.—
It is remarkable that, within less than fifty years, four
Earls of Canarvon, in lineal succession, have now taken a
distinguished part in the debates of the House of Lords.
Certainly no quality of the human mind is more decidedly
hereditary than the power of debate, as we have seen in
the Fox family for three generations, in Lord Chatham
and his son William Pitt, in the late and the present Lord
Grey, in the late Sir Robert Peel and his two sons Sir
Robert and Mr. Frederick Peel, in the present Lord Derby
and Lord Stanley, and, we may add, in the late William
Wilberforce and the present Bishop of Oxford.-2lforning
Chronicle.
A MAN AND HIS DOUBLE.—An Italian farce, which
has attained considerable popularity, is distinguished by
the following somewhat conical incident :—A traveller
reaches an inn, and finds it crowded with occupants; his
choice lies between no bed at all or one in the same room
where a black man is sleeping : he adopts the latter, and
orders the servant to call him at a very early hour. In
the middle of the night a mischievous wag wanders into
the room, and amuses himself with blacking the traveller's
face. When the servant wakes him, his first action is to
look in the glass, when he exclaims, "The fool has woke
the wrog man and calmly goes to bed again.

'ls your house a warm one ?" asked a man in search
of a tenement. "It ought to be ; the painter gave it two
coats recently," was the reply.
WOMAN AND HER BIT OF BONNET.—A savage observer
of female life has bitterly observed that—paradoxical as it
may seem, it is nevertheless true—the less a woman shows
of her bonnet, the still less she exhibits of her brains.—
Punch.
ABERNETHY'S FlGS.—When Abernethy was canvassing
for the office of surgeon to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, he
called upon a rich grocer. The great man addressing
him, said, " I suppose, sir, you want my vote and interest
at this momentous epoch of your life." "No, I don't,"
said Abernethy, " I want a pennyworth of figs ; come,
look sharp and wrap them up. I want to be off!"
OUR JACE TARS AND THE RUSSIANS.—Our sailors who
have visited St. Petersburgh and other ports of Russia,
have generally a poor opinion of the seamen of that coun-
try. They speak of them with a contempt bordering on
pity, representing them as feeble in body and devoid of
pluck. How do you account for it ?" we asked a veteran
English tar the other day, who had given us the above
estimate of the Muscovite mariners. " Why, do you see,
sir," was the answer, "it can't be otherwise. They have
nothing to put spirit into them—their mind's not their
own, but the Emperor's ; and they're not fed as we are.
It's the sense of independence and the good solid food he
gets that makes the British sailor what he is, and for want
of which the Jack-a-Rooshian is weak and spiritless."—
Sunderland News.
MRS. NEWCOME AND HER "RECEPTIONS."—" I try to
do my best, Colonel Newcome," said the lady of the house.
" I hope many a night we may see you here; and, as I
said this morning, Clive, when he is of an age to appreci-
ate this kind of entertainment. Fashion Ido not worship.
You may meet that amongst other branches of our family ;
but genius and talent I do reverence. And if I can be
the means—the humble means—to bring men of genius
together —mind to associate with mind--men of all
nations to mingle in friendly unison—l shall not have
lived altogether in vain. They call us women of the
world frivolous, Colonel Newcome. So some may be; I
do not say there are not in our family persons who worship
mere worldly rank, and think but of fashion and gaiety ;
but such, I trust, will never be the objects in life of me
and my children. We are but merchants ; we seek to be
no more. If I can look around me and see as Ido (she
waves her fan round, and points to the illustrations
scintillating round the room), and see as I do now—a
Poski, whose name is ever connected with Polish history
—an Ettore, who has exchanged a tonsure and a rack for
our own free country—a Hammerstein, and a Quartz, a
Miss Rudge, our Transatlantic sister—who I trust will
not mention this modest salon in her forthcoming work
on Europe,—and Miss Pinnifer, whose genius I acknow-
ledge, .though I deplore her opinions; if I can gather
together travellers, poets, and painters, princes and
distinguished soldiers from the east, and clergymen, re-
markable for their eloquence, my humble aim is attained,
and Maria Newcome is not altogether useless in her gene-
ration. Will you take a little refreshment ? Allow your
sister to go down to the dining-room supported by your
gallant arm." She looked round to the admiring congre-
gation, whereof Honeyman, as it were, acted as clerk,
and flirting her fan, and flinging up her little head, Con-
summate Virtue walked down on the arm of the colonel.
The refreshment was rather meagre. The foreign artists
generally dashed downstairs, and absorbed all the ices,
creams, &c. To those coming late there were chicken
bones, table-cloths puddled with melted ice, glasses hazy
with sherry, and broken bits of bread.— The Newcomes.
A SKfamisn WITH KAFFIRS.—The road being exceed-
ingly steep, narrow and rugged, the cavalry in front
marched down at a foot's pace, the infantry following, and
the Fingoe Levies bringing up the rear. The enemy con-
cealed in the thick bush opened fire upon us the moment
we entered the pass, wounding one of our men. We re-
turned their fire whenever the smoke -showed us where
they lay ; and thus continued our descent, with a desultory
fire on both sides, till half-way down, when they showed
in still greater force, filling the bush on both sides of us.
The Fingoes in the rear now evinced their fears so strongly
as to encourage a party of Kaffirs armed with assegais, to
rush in among them. This completed their panic, and
firing right and left at random, they hurried headlong
down the path, en masse upon our rear, with such force
as to knock down and trample on many of our men, while
by crushing through the ranks they hindered others from
loading. Emboldened by this, the main body rushed from
their cover, hurled a discharge of their lighter throwing
assegais, and then, with the heavier kind, used for stab-
bing, threw themselves upon us. Our steady fellows had
little to depend on but their bayonets, to the use of which
they had fortunately long been regularly trained, and now
used most effectually. The underwood swarmed with
Kaffirs ; they were perched in the trees, firing upon us
from above, and rushed from the bush below in hundreds,
yelling in the most diabolical and ferocious manner, his-
sing through their white teeth ; their bloody faces, brawny
limbs, and enormous size giving them a most formidable
appearance. The narrow road was covered with a mass of
troops, Levies, and Kaffirs ; the ringing yell of the latter
heard above the din of the firing. Some, wrestling with
the men for their firelocks, were blown almost in pieces,
and many were felled and brained by the butt ends of
clubbed muskets. Our gallant fellows fought most bravely ;
one man with an assegais deeply buried between his
shoulders, singled out its owner, and shot him through
the head, with the weapon nearly portruding through his
chest. A grenadier killed four Kaffirs with his own
hand. The huge fellow already mentilked appeared sud-
denly among us, and seizing a soldier in his powerfnl
grasp, hurled him to the ground, but the man, jumping to
his feet in a moment, buried his bayonet in the fellow's
back, and he fell dead on his face. Three Kaffirs had
caught one of our men by the blanket folded on his back,
and were dragging him into the bush, when the straps
slipped over his shoulders, released him, and he threw
himself, unarmed, on the nearest, and wrestled with him
for his assegais, both rolling over and over, seuffling on tho
ground ; the well-greased body of the Kaffir giving him
the advantage over the dressed and belted soldier, whose
death wound was, however, amply avenged. The ground
was soon thickly strewn with the black corpses of the
enemy ; a score lay in the path, and here and there the
lifeles form of a dead or dying Highlander, eight of whom
fell, while as many more were wounded. Fighting our
way through hundreds of the infuriated savages, we
effected the descent of the pass; by the time we had reached
the foot the enemy's fire had almost ceased.—Captain
King's Campaigning in Kaffirland.
A PEEP INTO THE GARDEN OF THE HAREM.—I was
cautious with regard to showing myself M the window,
but I confess that I did take one little peep through a
chink. Two negro harem-slaves, well armed, sat on the
boughs of a large fig tree; strange unseemly fruit.
Three old women unveiled, and with bundles in their
hands, stood beside it, looking ominously important. And
still the sweet soft voices chattered at a little distance.

. . First came, with footsteps gentle, and light as
falling snow, a young girl richly dressed. She had no
veil. Her face was an oval of the purest outline, with the
most loveable of dimples on the fairest of cheeks. Her
features were regularly and finely formed, and her hair,
which fell in a perfect avalanche on her shoulders, was of
a rich light brown, evidently soft and silky. Bat such
eyes—such beaming eyes of tender hazel, when seen, must
rivet all attention, and once seen can scarcely be for-
gotten. There she stood some time before me, leaning
against a bank, and waiting for others to join her; and so
motionless that our busy pencil never had a better model;
certainly never one so beautiful. A settled shade of
melancholy was on her lovely countenance, and the merry
sounds could not have issued from that pretty but pensive
mouth, but this did not detract from the undefinable
charm which stamped the fair apparition as one of nature's
own nobility—perhaps it heightened it. In every move-
ment, too, of her rather tall than short figure, there was
grace. The costume, to be sure, was eminently propi-
tious. A pale yellow silk robe, heavily embroidered in
gold, and lined with purple, was closed at the waist by a
splendid diamond brooch ; rose-coloured satin trousers
flowed wide beneath it; and a bright cashmere shawl
hung, loosely thrown as a sash around her. Yellow slip-
pers, a green handkerchief with golden fringe, and a costly
necklace, completed her very becoming attire. But this
was nothing. A resistless power of interesting those who
crossed her path resided in the deep attractive expression
of her large eyes. They were thoughtful, yet candid ; re-
signed, but affectionate ; and above all they were an
unerring index that the spirit within was superlatively
endowed with that heaven-born faculty of feeling strongly,
which must necessarily make of this earth a paradise or a
hades to herself, according as it is developed by the foster-
iug hand of warm and real sympathy, or blighted and
crushed by the withering storm that so often assails un-
appreciated gentleness. There was something in her mild
and lovelike glance which militated powerfully in favour
of the latter category in this case, and we had just come
to that mournful conclusion when our rough outline was
about finished and new actors appeared on the scene of our
psychological reflections. A nice little roundabout, laugh-
ing, black-eyed, bright-complexioned thing of sixteen, at
most, came dancing along. She was comely withal to look
upon, but she seemed in our dazzled eyes to owe her
charms, like Saturn's ring, to the vicinage of a brighter
light, and like the piece of day, in the Persian apologue,
that had always been near the rose, to derive a faint trans-
fusion from another's sweetness.—Anadol, the Last Home
of the Faithful,

SOCIETY IN FLORENCE.—Here we are going it, and in
about the very "fastest" place I ever set foot in. In any
other city, society seems to reserve itself for evening and
lamplight; but here, Bob, you make "running from the
start," and keep np the pace till you come in. In the
morning there's the club, with plenty of whist : all the
gossip of the town—and such gossip, too—the red article,
by Jove !—no shadowy inuendos—no vague and half-mys-
tified hints of a flaw here or a crack there ; but home
blows, my boy—with a smashed character, or a ruined
reptitation, at every stroke. This is, however, only a
breathing canter, for what awaits you at the cascini—a
sort of " promenade," where all the people meet in their
carriages, and exchange confidences in scandal, and invi-
tations to tea—the cascini being to the club what the
ballet is to the opera. After this, you have barely time
to dress for dinner; which over, the opera begins. There
you pay visits from box to box—learn all that is going on
for the evening—hear where the prettiest women are
going, and where the smartest play will be found. Mid-
night arrives, and then—but not before—the red life of
Florence begins. The dear contessa, that never showed
by daylight, at last appears in her salon ; the charming
marchesa, whose very head-dress is a study from Titian,
and whose dark-fringed eyes you think you recognise from
the picture in " the Pitti," at length sails in, to receive the
humble of—what, think you ? a score of devoted worship-
pers !—a band of chivalrous adorers !—nothing of the kind,
Bob; a dozen or so of young fellows, in all manner of
costumes, and all shapes of beards and moustaches ; all
smoking cigars or cigarettes, talking, singing, laughing,
thumbing the piano, shouting choruses, playing tricks
with cards—all manner of tomfoolery, in fact; with a dash
of enthusiasm in the nonsense, that carries you along in
spite of yourself. The conversation—if one dare to call it
such—is a wild chaos of turf-talk, politics, scandal, litera-
ture, buffoonery, and the ballet. There is abundance of
wit—plenty of red smartness on every side. The fellows
who have just described the cut of a tucker, can tell you
accurately the contents of a treaty; and they who did not
seem to have a thought above the depth of a flounce or
the width of a sandal, are thoroughly well versed in the
politics of every state in Europe. There is no touch of
sarcasm in their gaiety—none of that refined, subtle ridi-
cule, that runs through a Frenchman's talk--these fellows
are eminently good-natured : the code of morals is not
severe, and hence the secret of the merciful judgments
you hear pronounced on every one.—The Dodd Ffimilp
Abroad.