The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1843-11-28 00:00:00

THE LiVtIIPOOL STANDARD

MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW.--Gaspard de
Saulx de Tavannes, Marechal of France, in the night of
St. Bartholomew, ran through the streets of Paris, cry.
ing, " Let blood, let blood; bleeding is as good in the
month of August as in May." His son, who has written
his memoirs, relates that his father, being on his death-
bed, made a general confession of the sins of his life ;
after which his confessor, saying to him, with an air of
astonishment, " Why, you speak not a word of St. Bar-
tholomew."—" I look upon that," replied the dying
Marechal, " as a meritorious action, which ought to atone
for all the sins I have committed."—Voitaire.
UNWITTING INJURY DONE TO TRADESMEN AND
OTHERS, BOTH BY HIGH AND Low.—The lady of rank
will sometimes detain her jeweller and dressmaker till
near midnight, in her drawing-room or hall, with as little
remorse as the wife of a labourer will be haggling with the
poor huckster at the same unseasonable hour; neither
party caring for the deprivation of domestic enjoyment,
and the neglect of social duties, of which both are unwit-
tingly the cause. Yet, both these classes, high and low,
are to be awakened to a sense of the wrong which is in-
flizted by the system of late hours. The highest and the
lowest are yet but human beings, and must be capable of
sympathising with their fellow-creatures, whether they be
much below or somewhat above them in the accident of
worldly station.—Hours of Business, by E. Flower.
THE BRIGHTISH ASSOCIATION.—Mr. Sappy read a
paper, proving the impossibility of being able to see into
the middle of next week, from known facts, with regard
to the equation of time. He stated that, supposing it pos-
sible for a person to ascend in a balloon sufficiently high
for his vision to embrace a distance of 700 miles from east
to west, he would then only see forty-minutes a-head of
him : that is, he would see places where the day was forty
minutes in advance of the day in which he lived. Thus
he might be said to see forty minutes into futurity. It has
also been proved that, in sailing round the world in one
direction, a day's reckoning is gained; so that the sailor,
on his return, finds himself to be " a man in advance of
his age" by one day. This one day, however, is the far-
thest attainable limit; and it is, therefore, impos-
sible to see into the middle of next week.—Q. E. D.—
Punch.

A COMEDIAN'S RUSE.—At the close of the Drury-lane
season, Elliston proceeded on an engagement to Dublin,
where he found his attraction by no means equal to his
expectations. In a letter to his wife, he says, " I was
tossed about for 26 hours. On leaving the .coach at
Shrewsbury, being anxious immediately to proceed, I or-
dered a chaise, but was told they had no horses at the first
post house—at the second and third I received similar
answers. I was greatly distressed; for it was a point
with me to reach Oswestry without delay. You will be
amused at my expedient. Summoning a diplomatic look
into my countenance, I demanded instantly to be con-
ducted to the mayor, declaring that I had despatches for
the Duke of Richmond ; and that, if horses were not im-
mediately supplied, the affair would come at once under
the consideration of the secretary of state. Show me to
the mayor !' said I. He is in bed, sir,' was the reply—
' seriously ill.' Then I shall be sure to find him at home
my business is as much of life and death as his own.
Show me to the mayor, or supply the horses.' My man-
ner and words had the desired effect: horses were pro-
vided, and within twenty minutes I was off again."—The
Elliston Papers.
A LIFE OF DRUDGERY RENDERING A MAN INCAPA-
BLE OF REFINED ENJOY MENT.—A butcher, not a mile
from Temple Bar, made a large fortune, left his business
to his son, and retired into the country " to enjoy the re-
ward of his industry." A year passed ; he came to town
to visit his son, and " to see how the old trade was getting
on." He declared that he had been miserable ever since
he left business. Scarcely a day had passed before he was
in the shop, cutting, chopping, and selling meat. I myself
saw him—the retired gentleman !—with a tray upon his
shoulder, delivering a leg of mutton at the house of one of
my relatives. A day or two afterwards he insisted upon
his son allowing him to go over to the slaughter-house to
kill an ox ! He was actable d'ennui—he wanted some-
thing for an after-dinner pastime—here was an amusement
according with his taste, and he availed himself of it.
The of of this man's life had been to make himself a
gentleman ; he had all the natural capabilities for refined
enjoyments; he had gained all the appurtenances to his
new station which gold could purchase ; but habit had
rendered him in heart and soul—a butcher. He returned
to his country residence, where he relapsed into a state of
gloomy despondency, and died very shortly afterwards.—
Hours of Business, by E. Flower.

A COMPARISON.--If Alexander and Archimedes,
evoked from their long sieep, were to contemplate with
minds calmed by removal from contemporaneous interests
the state of mankind in the present year, with what dif-
ferent feelings would they regard the influence of their
respective lives upon the existing human world of 1843 !
The Macedonian would find the empire, which it was the
labour of his life to aggrandize, frittered into particles,
modelled, remodelled, subject to various dynasties. *
* * -

In parts of the world which his living grasp had
not seized, he would see little to remind him of bis past
existence. Would not mortification darken the brow of
the resuscitated conqueror on discovering that when his
name was men'ioned in historic annals, it was less as a
polar star to guide than as a beacon to be avoided ? What
would the Svracusan see in the present epoch to remind
him of himself? Would he see the man of 212 B.C. at
all connected with the men of 1843 A.D. ? Yes. In
Prussia, Austria, France, England, America, in every
city of every civilised nation, he would find the lever, the
pulley, the mirror, the specific gravimeter, the geometric
demonstration ; he would trace the influence of his mind
in the power-loom, the steam-engine, in the building of
the Royal Exchange, in the Great Britain steam-ship ; he
would find an application of his well-known invention the
subject of a patent, an important auxiliary to navigation.
Alexander was a hero ; Archimedes is one.—Blackwood's
Magazine.

LOUIS PHILIPPE AND THE SPANISH REVOLUTION-
ISTS.—There is, however, a charge brought against Louis
Philippe with regard to Spain, and the commencement of
the Spanish revoution under Minna and Valdz in 1830,
which I will state broadly and fully, and meet, I hope,
with fairness and distinctness. The charge is this,—that
Louis Philippe encouraged by an advance of money, and
by assurances of protection, the early efforts of Mina and
Valdez, and of their supporters on the frontiers of Cata-
lonia, wbieh had for their object to effect a revolution in
Spain ; and that afterwards, from some personal or pri-
vate motives, not only was all assistance stopped, but the
Spanish chiefs of the movement, when repulsed, were sent
into the interior of France, and treated with coldness, if
not with severity. That Louis Philippe determined on
alarming Ferdinand VII., the last king of Spain, into a
recognition by him of the government and throne of July
1830, is indubitable. Ferdinand had refused to recognise
either. This determination had rendered Louis Philippe
indignant ; and, as Mina and Valdez proposed to raise the
drapeau of revolt in the Basque provinces and on the
frontiers of Catalonia, they were unquestionably aided in
that proceeding by the French government and king.
When, however, Ferdinand VII. made the "amende hon-
orable," recognised the Orleans dynasty and the revolu-
tion of 1830, and professed a great desire to maintain the
most friendly relations with the King of the French,
Louis Philippe, of course, refused further aid to the
Spanish revolutionists, to whom he never gave, directly
or indirectly, any pledge or promise for additional support ;
and when they were defeated by the army of the Spanish
monarch, they were sent into the interior of France, and
placed under strict surveillance. I have often seen Valdez
and Mina. With the latter I was intimate. I believe
them both to have been honest, brave, but mistaken men.
I think their talents were greatly overated, and that their
plans were always ill• digested and absurd. But Ido not
believe that they have any real cause of complaint against
the King of the French. The Spanish king and govern-
ment had good cause, since Louis Philippe ought rather
to have marched a French army to the Spanish frontiers,
or even invaded the Peninsula, to have avenged himself
for the insult offered to his government and dynasty by
Ferdinand VII. ; and, in fact, should have resorted to
every possible measure for redress rather than have en-
couraged revolutionary projects got up by Spanish refu-
gees against their own government. I think, then, that
this was an unwise, inconsiderate, and culpable act; and
the only excuse which can be offered for it was, that it
occurred in the very early days of the king's reign, and
when as yet all men were more or less affected by the
spirit of revolt which stalked abroad upon the earth.—
Fraser's Magazine.

CONCEALMENT BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE.--
The first and most innocent step, says Mrs. Ellis, towards
falsehood, is concealment. Before our common acquaint-
ances there is wisdom in practising concealment to a con-
siderable extent ; but where the intimacy is so great, the
identity so close, as between a husband and a wife, con-
cealment becomes a sort of breach of faith ; and with par-
ties thus situated, the very act of concealment can only
be kept up by a series of artful endeavours to ward off
suspicion or observation of the thing concealed. Now,
when a husband discovers, as in all probability he will,
unless these endeavours are carried out to a very great
extent—when he discovers that his wife bad been conceal-
ing one thing from him, he very naturally supposes that
she has concealed many more, and his suspicions will be
awakened in proportion. It will then be in vain to assure
him that your motive was good, that what you did was
only to spare him pain, or afford him pleasure; he will
feel that the very act is one which'has set him apart in his
own house as a stranger, rrther than a guardian there--
an enemy, rather than a friend. Why, then, should you
begin with concealment? The answer, it is to be feared,
is but too familiar—" My husband is so unreasonable."
And here then we see again the great advantage of every-
thing you think or do. After concealment has become
habitual, there follows, in order to escape detection, a sys-
tem of false pretences, assumed appearances, and secret
schemes, as much at variance with the spirit of truth as
the most direct falsehood, and unquestionably as debasing
to the mind. But, as an almost inevitable consequence,
next follows falsehood itself; for what woman would
like her husband to know that she had, for days, months,
or years, been practising upon his credulity. If he disco-
vers what she has been concealing, he will also discover,
that often, when the subject was alluded to, she artfully
evaded his question by introducing another; that some-
times she so managed her voice as to convey one idea
while she expressed another, and that at other times she
absolutely looked a lie. No; she cannot bear that he
should look back and see all this, lest he should despise
her ; and therefore, in some critical moment, when
into that trying situation in which she must either confess
all or deny, and she pronounces at last that fatal word
which effectually breaks asunder the spiritual bond of mar-
ried love. And now it is scarcely possible to imagine a
more melancholy situation than that of weak and helpless
woman, separated by falsehood from all true fellowship
human or divine ; for there is no fellowship in falsehood.
The very soul of disunion might justly be said to be em-
bodied in a lie. It is, in fact, the sudden breaking asun-
der of that great chain which hinds together all spiritual
influences ; and she who is guilty of falsehood must neces-
sarily be alone.

CEYLON.—Certainly, if Ceylon was not, at least it ought
to have been, Paradise ? for at this day there is no place
on earth which better supports the paradisiacal character
than this Pandora of islands, which the Hindoos call
Lanka, and Europe calls Ceylon. We style it the " Pan-
dora" of islands, because, as all the gods of the heathen
clubbed their powers in creating that ideal woman—cloth-
ing her with perfections, and each separate deity subscrib-
ing to her dowry some separate gift—not less conspicuous,
and not less comprehensive, has been the bounty of Pro-
vidence, running through the whole diapason of possibili-
ties, to this all-gorgeous island. Whatsoever it is that
God has given by separate allotment and partition to other
sections of the planet, all this be has given cumulatively
and redundantly to Ceylon. Was she therefore happy,
was Ceylon happier than other regions, through this hy-
per-tropical munificence of her Creator ? No, she was
not; and the reason was, because idolatrous darkness had
planted curses where Heaven had planted blessings ; be-
cause the insanity of man had defeated the graciousness
of God. But another era is dawning for Ceylon ; God
will now countersign his other blessings, and ripen his
possibilities into great harvests of realization, by super-
adding the one blessing of a dove-like religion ; light is
thickening apace, the horrid altars of Moloch are growing
dim ; woman will no more consent to forego her birth-
rigbt as the daughter of God ; man will cease to be the
tiger-cat that, in the noblest chamber of Ceylon, he has
ever been ; and with the new hopes that will now blossom
amidst the ancient beauties of this lovely island, Ceylon
will but too deeply fulfil the functions of a paradise. Too
subtly she will lay fascinations upon man ; and it will need
all the anguish of disease, and the stings of death, to un-
loose the ties which, in coming ages, must bind the hearts
of her children to this Eden of the terraqueous globe.—
Blackwood's Magazine.
THE BROTHERS.—It is generally supposed that the
Duke of Wellington was born at the family seat, Dangan,
county Meath. His Grace was born in Grafton-street,
Dublin. The Marquess Wellesley was born at Dangan.
These illustrious brothers—the Fabius and Marcellus of
the British empire—have ever evinced a heartfelt interest
for the welfare of a country which their ancestors have in-
habited, as distinctly traced, for more than five centuries.
The Duke of Wellington conceded Roman Catholic
emancipation contrary to his feelings and judgment, ra-
ther than deluge his native land with the blood of his
countrymen ; and for this act of self devotion he has been
meanly and ignominiously taunted and reviled by those
whom he has benefitted. The Marquess Wellesley twice
refused the premiership, and for years voluntarily excluded
himself from office, to obtain Catholic emancipation ; and
when the records of his Irish viceroyalty are published,
the just and comprehensive policy he endeavoured to
carry into effect in Ireland will be found equal to his
glorious government of British India. Lord Wellesley
was a perfect specimen of the Irish gentleman of the old
school, with a beautiful form and of the most polished
manners and exquisitely refined taste; thoroughly master
of his own language and of the highest classic attainments ;
abounding in pathos, rich in anecdote, and sparkling
with wit; qnickly perceptive, and yet deeply reflective;
of high comprehensive resolves ; prompt, vigorous, and
effective in action : quickly discriminating character, and
well adapting instruments for the purposes designed ;
yielding confidence most fully, and, with the power that
alone belongs to genius, pouring into his subordinates the
spirit and energy of a large, vigorous, and well stored
mind ; kindly considerate to inferiors ; gay, animated, in-
structive to equals ; deferential but proud to superiors ;
ardently attached to constitutional liberty ; conscious of
the responsibility of political power, despising wealth,
imbued with a pure patriotism, and, when full of years and
honours, descending into the grave, breathing forth his
dying thoughts for the welfare and perpetuity of the
united British empire.—Montgomery Martin's Ireland.
BOOK MANIA.—BIDDING AT AN AUCTION.—It iS ge-
nerally acknowledged, that the bibliomania is amongst
the diseases which have been declining in intensity of
action during the last twenty years. It was at its greatest
height during the first years of the present century, when ,
even new books bore prices which it would now be mad-
ness to dream of. Perhaps the sale of the Duke of Rox-
burgh's library, in May, 1812, marked the very noontide
of the fever. At this greatfiuht, as Dr. Dibbin calls it,
which lasted forty-two days, Mr. Evans made his profes-
sional abut. Amongst many curiosities collected by the
duke in the course of a long life, was a copy of Bocca-
cio's Decameron, printed by Valdarfer, of Venice, in
1471; a book of which no other perfect copy was known
to exist. On this lot being exhibited, Mr. Evans made
an appropriate oration, which was listened to in breath-
less silence. Three noble candidates had gathered to the
field, the Duke of Devonshire, Earl Spencer, and the
Marquis of Blandford (since Duke of Marlborough).
The biddings rose rapidly to 500 guineas. " Hitherto,"
says Dr. Dibdin, in his glowing account of the action,
" it was evident that the firing was but masked and de-
sultory. At length all random shots ceased, and the
champions before named stood gallantly up to each other,
resolving not to flinch from a trial of their respective
strengths. " A thousand guineas " were bid by Earl
Spencer, to which the Marquis added " ten." You
might have heard a pin drop. All eyes were turned, all
breathing well-nigh stopped. every sword was put home
within its scabbord, and not a piece of steel was seen to
move or to glitter, except that which each of these cham-
pions brandished in his valorous hand. See, see ! they
parry, they lunge, they bet; yet their strength is undi-
minished, and no thought of yielding is entertained by
either. Two thousand pounds are offered by the Marquis.
Then it was that Earl Spencer, as a prudent general,
began to think of a useless effusion of blood and expen-
diture of ammunition, seeing that his adversary was as
resolute and " fresh" as at the onset. For a quarter of
a minute he paused ; when my Lord Althorp advanced
one step forward, as if to supply his father with another
spear for the purpose of renewing the contest. His coun-
tenance was marked by a fixed determination to gain the
prize, if prudence, in its most commanding form, and
with a frown of unusual intensity of expression, had not
bade him desist. The father and son tor a few seconds
converse apart, and the biddings are resumed, " Two
thousand two hundred and fifty pounds! said Lord Spen-
cer. The spectators were now absolutely electrified.
The marquis quietly adds his usual " ten," * * and there
is an end of the contest. Mr. Evans ere his hammer fell,
made a due pause ; and, indeed, as if by something pre-
ternatural, the ebony instrument itself seemed to be
charmed or suspended `in the mid air.' However, at
length down dropped the hammer. * * The sound of
Mr. Evans's prostrate sceptre of dominion reached, and
resounded from, the utmost shores of Italy. The echo of
that fallen hammer was heard in the libraries of Rome,
of Milan, and St. Mark. Boccaccio himself started from
his slumber of some five hundred years; and Mr. Van
Praet rushed, but rushed in vain, amidst the royal book
treasures at Paris, to see if a copy of the said Valdarfcr
Boccaccio could there be found! The marquis's triumph
was marked by a plaudit of hands ; and presently after,
he offered his hand to Lord Spencer, saying, " We are
good friends still !" His lordship replied, " Perfectly ;
indeed, lam obliged to you." "So am Ito you," said
the marquis ; "so the obligation is mutual." He de-
clared that it was his intention to have gone as far as
£5,000. The noble marquis had previousl3 possessed a
copy of the same edition, wanting five leaves. " For
which five leaves," Lord Spencer remarked, "be might
be said to have given £2,26o."—Charnbers's Edinburgh
Journal.

ASSUMPTION OF DIGNITY BY A CANDIDATE FOIL
MAYNOOTH.—He accordingly took his father aside one
morning, after he had eaten a more meagre breakfast than
usual, and after licking his lips, addressed him in these
words :—" I think, father, that upon considerating the
consequence to which I am now entitled, and the degree
of respectability which, in my own person—in propria
persona—l communicate to the vulgarians with whom I
am connected—l call them vulgarians from no derogatory
motive ; but you will concede yourself, that they are ig-
norant of the larned languages. an' consequently, though
dacent enough, still in reference to Latin an' Greek; but
vulgarians. Well! Quid multus say, that taking
all these things into speculation, looking at them—veiuti
in speculum—it is neither dacent nor becoming that I
should ate in the manner I have done, as vulgarly as
themselves—that I should ate, I say, any longer without
knife and fork. Neither, I announce, shall I in future
drink my milk any longer, as I have, with all humility,
done hitherto, out of a noggin ; nor continue to disrobe
my potatoes any longer without a becoming instrument.
I must also have better viands to consume. You are not
to be informed that I am in that situation of life, in
which, from my education and other accomplishments,
I must be estimated as duly qualified to ate beef and mut-
ton instead of bacon, an' to have my tay breakfast instead
of stir-about, which, in polite society, is designated por-
ridge. You know yourself, and must acknowledge, that
I'm soon likely to confer distinction and pre-eminence
upon the poor illiterate, but honest creatures, with whom
lam associated in the bonds of blood relationship. If I
were a dunce, or a booby, or a leather-head, the case
might be different ; but you yourself are well acquainted
with my talents at logic and conthroversy ; an' I have
sound rasons and good authority, which I could quote,
if necessary, for proving that nothing increases the weight
of the brain, and accelerates to gravity and solidity more
than good feeding. Pay attention, therefore to my words,
for I expect that they will be duly observed :—buy me a
knife and fork ; and when I get them, it's not to lay
them past to rust, you consave. The beef and mutton
must follow ; and in future I am resolved to have my lay
breakfast. There are geese, and turkeys, and pullets
enough about the yard, and I am bent on accomplishing
myself in the art of carving them. I'm not the man now
to be placed among the other riff-raff of the family over a
basket of potatoes, wid a black c erical coat upon me, and
a noggin of milk under my arm ! I tell you the system
must be changed : the schoolmaster is abroad, and I'll
tolerate such vulgarity no longer. Now saddle the horse
till I ride across the bog to Pether Rafferty's Station,
where I'm to serve mass : plase heaven, I'll soon be able
to say one myself, and give you all a lift in spirituals—
ehem !" " Throth, Dinny, I b'lieve you're right, avick ;
and—" " Vick me no longer, father—that's another
thing I forgot. It's full time that I should be sirred ;
and if my own relations won't call me Sir instead of
Dinny, it is hardly to be expected that strangers will do
it. I wish to goodness you had never stigmatised me wid
so vulgar an epithet as Dinny. The proper word is
Dionysius ; and, in future, I'll expect to be called Misther
Dionysius." " Sure, lor your mother needn't be sirrin'
you, Dinny ?" " I haven't made up my mind as to whe-
ther I'll demand that proof of my respectability from you
and my mother, or not ; but on this I'm immovable, that
instead of Dinny, you must, as I said, designate me
Dionysius." " Well, well, avourneen, I suppose only it's
so long and lamed a word." "Itis a lamed word, no
doubt : but she must persevere until she's able to master
it. I wouldn't for three tenpennies that the priest would
hear one of you call me Dinny ; it would degrade me very
much in his estimation. At all events, if my mother can-
not manage the orthography of Dionysius, let it be Denis,
or anything but that signature of vulgarity, Dinny. Now,
father, you won't neglect to revale what I've ordered to
the family ?"—Carleton'B Traits and Stories of the Irish
Peasantry.

SECOND EDITION.

Standard-office, Three o'clock

LIVERPOOL COTTON MARKET, Nov. 23

A good inquiry for Cotton again to-day, and for Tues-
day a large business has been done, say 3,000 to 4,000
bales, at very full prices. Several speculators have been
operating in anticipation of bad accounts by the Boston
steamer.

LIVERPOOL CORN EXCHANGE, THIS DAY.

(From Messrs. R. Makin & Sons' Circular.)

Prevented by the late high gales of wind, the arrivals of
Grain into this port from Ireland, since Tuesday last,
have been comparatively light, and, excepting a few lots
of Barley, we have scarcely anything deserving notice
coastwise ; of Irish Flour and Oatmeal, however, we have
a further good supply by steamers; with 1042 qrs. Wheat
from Canada, 900 qrs. Beans from Egypt, and of States
and Canadian Flour 5318 barrels.

The heavy rains for some time past having been repeated
almost daily throughout the week, Wheat sowing in con-
sequence is still impeded, and in this district much of the
process remains incomplete, which, if general and delayed
much longer, may possibly, at no distant period, give an
impulse to the trade, although hitherto none has been
apparent ; and as at this days's market the millers
still continued to pursue the same line of ex-
treme caution, which characterized their proceedings
on Friday, the transactions in Irish and Foreign free
Wheats were nearly suspended ; English likewise, of which
a fair supply was offered this morning by the neighbour-
ing farmers, met a very languid sale, and any of these
descriptions scarcely realized our last quotations.

All sorts of free Flour remained in the same dull state
as last week, but without any actual change in prices ;
while States brands under lock, of which a few hundred
barrels more have been sold at 225. 9d., is now held at
235.

Barley, Beans, and Pease fully support the rates of last
week ; and Malt is is. per qr. dearer.
Oats, upon a fair demand, were again rather dearer ;
and Oatmeal supported, and in partial instances some-
what exceeded the improved rates previously noted.

ARRIVALS OF CORN,

From the 21st to the 27th Nov., 1843, inclusive,