The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-11-26 00:00:00

SELECTIONS.

USEFUL INVENTION•—An individual has discovered a
process by which wood can be so impregnated with iron
as very much to increase its hardness. He is preparing
a considerable quantity of wood in this manner, which,
with the sanction of the Poor Law Commissioners, he
intends to convert into boards of guardians.—Punch.
EDITORIAL DUTY IN CONTROVERSY.—It is no part
of a journalist's duty, as some persons seem to suppose,
to publish all that can be said on both sides of a contro-
versy. His duty is to give only what in his best judg-
ment he thinks likely to prove of public advantage. Let-
teas that bear the stamp of hypocrisy and falsehood on
the face of them he commits to the flames at once. No
appeals to his sense of justice should ever induce him to
lend his columns to the propagation of error.—Britan-
nia.

ENGLISH SEAMANSHIP IN A STORM.—Dtiring the
recent storm at Boulogne, a vessel appeared in a situation
to excite ate greatest alarm. However, the opinion of
the crowd decided at once upon the vessel and the com-
mander. "No other vessel hut the Princess Maude, no
other captain but Captain Monger, would dare to face
Boulogne Bay to-d .y." The conjecture was correct ;it
was the Princess Maude and the gallant commander
named. It was long doubted whether the great steam
power of the vessel could win the offing necessary to give
her a free sweep in between the lighthouse and the bar.
" She will do it "—" It is impossibe," ran from mouth
to mouth in anxious whispers. Having secured his offing,
Captain Monger brought his vessel about : and, to the
amazement of the timid and unskilful, spread a broad ex-
tent of canvas, under the tremendous gale, bearing down
upon the mouth of the harbour with a rapidity perfectly
terrific. As the vessel passed the lighthouse almost every
heart sunk under the impression that nothing could check
or divert her direct progress to the sands. A stifled
moan was heard through the crowd, when, as if by magic,
the sails dropped instantly, the vessel chang( d her course
full 93 degrees, and then shot up the harbour at the rate
of at least 15 miles an hour. The enthusiasm of the
spectators found expression in a loud cheer, which was
again and again repeated.

AN ACCOMPLISHED YOUNG LADY,—Her edication is
slicked off complete ; a mantymaker gets her up well, and
she is sent back to home with the Tower stamp on her,
"edicated at a boardin'-school." She astonishes the
natives round about where the old folks live, and makes
'em stare agin, she is so improved. She plays beautiful
on the piano two pieces, they were crack pieces, lamed
onder the eye and ear of the master ; but there is a secret
nobody knows but he—she can't play nothin else. She
sings two or three songs, the last lesson larnt to school,
and the last she will ever larn. She has two or three
beautiful drawtn's ; but there is a secret here too—the
master finished 'ern, and she can't do another. She
speaks French beautiful; but it's fortunate she ain't in
France now, so that secret is safe. She is a very agree-
able gal, and talks very pleasantly, for she has seen the
world. She was to London for a few weeks ; she saw the
last play, and knows a great deal about the theatre. She
has been to the Opera once, and has seen Celeste, and
Fanny E*tier, and heard Lablache and Grisi, and is a
judge of dancin and singin.' She saw the Queen a horse-
back in the park, and is a judge of ridin' ; and was at a
party of Lady Syllabub's, and knows London. This var-
nish last a whole year. The two new pieces weal out,
and the songs get old, and the drawin, ri everybody has
seed, and the London millinery wants renewin', and the
Queen has another Princess, and there is another singer
at the Opera, and all is gone but the credit. " she was
edicated at a baardin'-school."—Sam Slick in England.
POPISH RAPACITY—Thomas Eastwood, Esq., of
Brindle Lodge, near Preston, a highly respectable Roman
Catholic in a letter to the London Times refers to the
disgraceful case, at Turin, in our last, and says " I am,
Sir, a Roman Catholic, and I say it with grief and shame
that I have beheld a parent set against a child, a wife
against a husband, a brother against a brother, an uncle
against a niece, and for no other cause than that by such
estrangement the priest might mare securely carry off the
property which be coveted. We have, as lamin a situa-
ation to prove, in this country, many " unscrupulous
agents of the Roman Catholic church ; and the great
misfortune is, that the infatuation is so great in the laity,
that when facts are placed before them showing the wick-
edness of certain priests, they will not believe them, and
this holds out an inducement to crime. To say a word
against ' the anointed of the Lord,' is by many Catholics
looked upon as a mortal sin, and the crafty •` unscrupu-
lous agents" take advantage of this in the furtherance of
their ends. The confessional is a means used by these
`unscrupulous agents' to perfect their designs, yet you
hear them from their pulpits harangue on its inviolability.
If we may judge from the conduct of the Vicar Apostolic
of Lancashire, neither the profanation of the confessional
by a priest nor the detestable crime of perjury is deserving
of his attention or reprobation. I have said enough to
waken Roman Catholics who, like myself, venerate their
religion to serious reflection ; perhaps, more than enough
to rouse a host of bigoted and priest-ridden would-be
saints to point their shafts at me. But, being girt with
truth, I have nothing to fear."
GRADES OF SOCIETY IN SYDNEY.—The distinctions
in society here remind me of the " dock-yard people,"
described by Dickens, that keen and kindly satirist of
modern follies. Thus government officers don't know
merchants ; merchants with " stores " don't know other
merchants who keep " shops ;" and the shopkeepers have,
I doubt not, a little code of their own, prescribing the
distances to be observed between drapers and haber-
dashers, butchers and pastry cooks. The general cha-
racter of the invitations to the entertainments at Govern-
ment House las caused much discussion and animadver-
sion • the citizens who drive chariots not liking to be
' mingled in company with their tradespeople who only
keep gigs. But all this pride of munity, were not in
its tendency so mischievous, could only provoke a
smile. English customs and fashions are carefully fol.
lowed, and frequently out done by the more wealthy and
(if I may be allowed the phresa, in speaking of com-
moners) aristocratic of the colonists. Their extravagant
mode of living, combined with the mania for speculation
has greatly contributed to the late and still existing em-
barrassments of the colony. Msny of these houses are
elegant villas, with rooms of noble dimensions, expen
sively furnished with almost every luxury to be found in a
gentleman's residence in England, and environed by
beautiful gardens where every description of fruit, both
European and tropical, is cultivated. The numerous
servants, too, are a great and universal expense. The
smaller houses of merchants, anti various professional and
official men, have much the style of those in suburban
streets in England, standing alone or in pairs, all pro-
tected from the sun by verandas from six to twelve feet
wide, with pretty gardens in front, often fenced by high
hedges of gay geraniums. Several of these villa streets
are very pretty, and a most refreshing contrast to the
duet, dirt, noise, anti closeness of the lower part of the
town, which is, from the climate and other causes, some
shades more unpleasant than any place I ever was in be-
fore.—Mra. Meredith's New South Wales,
A RIOT IN LIVERPOOL IN ANCIENT TlME.—Mera :
ye 4th day of September, 1573, a grevious contention and
discord sprang betwyxt these two, Barrtley and Sydnam,
and Sunday morning next after, being sth Septernbir,
Roger Sydnam, levet'nent of the Blue Coats about five of
the clock, at his uprising, walking and coming firth of
Roger Jamieson's house„ his host with three or four of
his soldiers, and the said Captain Barrtley coming with
more company of his motley coats, drew their swords., and
set upon the said levet'nent, and forced him and his men
for safeguard of their lives to take unto the house and
houses over against the regions persecution of the said
Barrtley therein by the good p'vise and fortuneshifts of
the wife of the same house, the said Sydnam and his men,
all but one, were conveyed into an high top chamber, by
the ladder, and so they drawn up to them in the said loft,
and so escaped death, as it pleased God ; but that one
soldier which was stayed in the house was to all much
s a inged arid beaten, kneeling upon his knees, bareheaded,
calling and crying most woefully for mercy and pardon of
life : upon this the said Captain Barrtley caused that
soldier, blew-coat by name, to be set in the stocks at the
High Crciss of this town of Lyverpoole, and caused a
cantill of a chystboard nayled to his—and there was
watched with a dozen tall billmen of this town. Roger
Sydnam, poor gentleman, was in cover all the whiles aft.
It is long to repeat, and more to rehearse, the riots tumult
and disorder of the said Captain Barrtley and Motley
Coats, and over tedious to write of the spoils of both
Motjies and Blue Coats, as well abroad in the country
k hitherto adjoining, as within this town. Truth is, there
was such surrection stirred up by the said Captain Barrt-
ley as was never seed in the town and this country, for to
be short, Mr. Major and all the town suddenly, as pleased
God Almighty, were ready upon the heath of this town,
every man with their best weapons, so as by good chance
everp householder being at home, Sunday morning, eager
as lions, made show almost even like the number of the
l said captains, and all their soldiers, so as the captain and
, all their men being arrayed, and there upon the said heath
; the said Captain Barrtley and all his gentlemen moved,
Mr. Maior, and came up to the town in friendship and
; amity ; and after all this done, the captains and their
i soldiers were more gentler to deal with, all whiles they
abode within this town.—Lacey's Pictorial Liverpool.

ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.—The
first and noblest character of the present age to be men-
tioned in common wilt Eton scenes and Eton men, must
be the Duke of Wellington. Wellington was an Eton
boy, and, if tradition may be credited, a daring and ad-
venturous one. He seems to have been a lad not given
to much study and painful research i to books. Nature
having already placed an original stamp upon him, and
presented him with, the highly favoured signet of her own
right hand. He who is now fmiliarly called the " Iron
Duke," might well have been in the earlier stages of life
yclept the Iron Boy. Instances of the Duke's hardiness,
or rather of young Wellesley's hardiness (as he then
simply was) are on record; and among them it is related,
that when all the good burgomasters and thrifty trades-
men of Windsor and Eton had retired to rest, 'young
Wellesley, on the commencement of a cold winter's
night, would be proceeding up old icy Father Thames, in
a lonely skiff, to the vicinity of Maidenhead Bridge, and
there, wrapt in a single blanket, and watching with single
gun, he won't' be ready by daybreak to get a shot at the
wild ducks, or other wild fowl, which were accustomed
to congregate under shelter of the eyots, and other har-
bours of refuge on the Thames. " Every one to his taste,"
a fashionable dandy will exclaim : but young Wellesley
was no man of fashion, and his tastes were all of the dar-
ing and grand. When we consider the stratagem neces-
sary at a school like Eton to achieve what Wellesley did:;
perhaps the squeezing through a small window, and tra-
versing frozen roofs of houses ; the obtaining clandestinely
the gun, and the skiff, and ammunition, with the convey-
ance of his blanker, and the needful grog ; and then the
difficulty of an undiscovered return, loaded with booty ;
let us think of these things, and then acknowledge in the
very boy something that prognosticated the wonderful and
unexampled career of the European Duke. The poet
Wordsworth, another Wellington in his way, has written
truly, that " the child is father of the man." Young
Wellesley seems to have been liked in his generation at
Eton, because his feats were admired by the whole school,,
and very few could dare to be his companions in many
perilous and persevering endeavours in pursuit of a fa-
vourite object of pastime.—Bentley's Miscellany.
THE SOCIALIST SYSTEMS AND FREE SOCIETY CON-
TRASTED.—Nothing is more charming to the imagination
than the first general idea of some new community, where
all men are to be happy, every body active, benevolent,
reasonable. But the moment we leave this general idea,
enter upon particulars, and set about the arrangements
necessary for this universally comfortable state of things,
there is nothing in the world more tedious and oppressive.
Proposals for new political institutions are sufficiently
wearisome; but proposals for earthly elysiums, which are
to embrace the whole circle of human affairs, become in-
supportably dull. It is child's play, played with heavy
granite boulders. No ' • if we were capable of being seduced
for a moment into the belief of some golden age of equality,
where a parental government, presiding over all, should
secure the peace and prosperity of all, we should need no
other argument to recover us from the delusion than sim-
ply to read on, and learn how this parental government
intends to accomplish its purpose. When we find that,
in order to be relieved from domestic cares, we are to have
no home at all; that our parental government, in order to
provide for our children, begins by taking them away from
us; when we picture to ourselves the sort of wooden me-
lancholy figures we must become, (something like the large
painted dolls in a Dutch garden. stuck here and there with-
out choice or locomotion of their own,) we speedily lose all
inclination to enter upon this discipline of happiness. We
quit with haste this enchanted garden, which turns oat to
be au enormous piece of clockwork, and embrace with re-
newed content the old state of personal freedom. albeit at-
tended with many personal inconveniences. Whilst read-
ing of Utopian schemes, the idea has very vividly occurred
to us : suppose that some such society as this, wi;ere land
and wives, money and children, are all in common, had
been for a long time in existence, and that some clever
Utopian had caught au inkling of the old system so fami-
liar to us, and had made the discovery that it would be •
possible, without dissolving society, to have a wife of one's
own, a house of one's own, land and children of one's own.
Imagine, after an age of drowsy clockwork existence, one
of these philosophers starting the idea of a free society, of
a social organization based upon individual rights and in-
dividual effort—where property should not only be pos-
sessed, but really enjoyed—where men should for the first
time stretch their limbs, and strain their faculties, and
strive, and emulate, and endure, and encounter difficul-
ties, and have friendships. What a commotion there
would be ! How would the younger sort, rebelling against
the old rotten machine in which they bad been incarce-
rated, form themselves into emigrating bands, and start
forth to try upon some new soil their great experiment of
a free life ! How would they welcome toil in all its seve-
rity—bow willingly practise abstinence, and suffer priva-
tion, f..r the sake of the bold rights which these would pur-
chase ! how willingly take upon themselves the responsi-
bility of their own fate to coil), a fortune of tbeir own
shaping ! Hope herself would start from the earth where
she had been so long buried, and waving her rekindled
torch, lead on to the old race of life!—Blackwood.

MODERN JERUSALEM GRAPHICALLY DESCRIBED.—
We ascended a mountain ridge, strewed over with enor-
mous grey rocks, piled one on another as if by human
hands. Here and there a few stunted vines, yellow with
the colour.of autumn, crept along the soil in a few places
cleared in the wilderness. Fig-trees, with their tops wi-
thered or shivered by the bias's, often edged the vines,
and cast their black fruit on the grey rock. On our right,
the desert of St. John, where formerly " the voice was
heard crying in the wilderness," sunk like an abyss in
the midst of five or six black mountains, through the
openings of which, the sea of Egypt, overspread with a
dark cloud, could still be discerned. On the left, and
near the eye, was an old tower, placed on the top of a
projecting eminence ; other ruins, apparently of an ancient
aqueduct, descended from that tower, overgrown with
verdure, ❑ow in the sear leaf ; that tower-is Modica, the
stronghold and tomb of the last heroes of sacred story,
the Maccabees. We left behind us the ruins, resplendent
with the first rays of the morning—rays, not blended as
in Europe in a confused and vague illumination, but dart-
ing like arrows of fire tinted with various colours, issuing
from a dazzling centre, and diverging over the whole
heavens as they expand. Some were of blue, slightly sil-
vered, others of pure white, some of tender rose-hue,
melting into grey ; many of burning fire, like the corus-
cations of a flaming conflagration. All were distinct, yet
all united in one harmonious whole, forming a resplendent
arch in the heavens, encircling, and issuing from a centre
of fire. In proportion as the day advanced, the brilliant
light of these separate rays aas gradually dimmed—or
rather, they were blended together, and composed the co-
lourlesslight ofday. 'Menthe moon, which stillshoneover-
head, " paled her ineffectual fire," and melted away in the
general illumination of the heavens. After having as-
cended a second ridge, more lofty and naked than the
former, the horizon suddenly opens to the right, and pre-
sents a view of all the country which extends between the
last summits of Judea and the mountains of Arabia. It
was already flooded with the increasing light of the morn-
ing ; but beyond the piles of grey rock which lay in the
foreground, nothing was distinctly visible but a dazzling
space, like a vast sea, intersperced with a few islands of
shade, which stood forth in the brilliant surface. On the
shores of that imaginary ocean, a little to the left, and
about a league distant, the sun shone with uncommon
brilliancy on a massy tower, a lofty minaret, and some
edifices, which crowned the summit of a low hill of which
you could not see the bottom. Soon the points of other
minarets, a few loopholed walls, and the dark summits of
several domes, which successively came into view, and
fringed the descending slope of the hill, announced a city.
It was Jerusalem, and every one of the party, without
addressing a word to the guides or to each other, enjoyed
in silence the entrancing spectacle. We rested our horses
to contemplate that mysterious and dazzling apparition ;
hut when we moved on, it was soon snatched from our
view ; for as we descended the hill, and plunged into the
deep and profound valley which lay at its feet, we lost
sight of the holy city, and were surrninded only by the
solitude and desolation of the desert.—Lamartine's
7 ravels.

PAISLEY IN 1800 AND 1841.—From 1790 to 1800 nearly
one half of Paisley was built by weavers from savings of
their ordinary wages. Every house had its garden ; and
every weaver being his own master, could work it when
he pleased. Many were excellent florists', many possessed
a tolerable library, and all were politicians, so that abiaut
the period of the French Revoltition, Mr. Pitt expressed
more fear of the unrestricted political discussions of the
Paisley weavers, than 10,000 armed men. Had Paisley
been then what Paisley is now, crowded with halt-in-
formed Radicals and Infidels, his fears would have been
justified ; but truth and honest dealing could fear nothing
from a community constituted as Paisley then was ; and
never, perhaps, in the hi-tory of the world, was there a
more convincing proof, of the folly of being afraid of a
universal and thorough education, especially when im-
pregnated
with the Religion of the Bible, than in the state
of Paisley at that period. At the period alluded to,
every man, woman, and child, above eight or nine yea; s
of age, could read the Bible ; and many could write and
cast accounts; and not a few of the weaver's sons went
throgh a regular course at the grammar-school. To have
had a distant relative unable to read, or one sent to prison,
would have been felt as equally disgraceful. The inha-
bitants were so universally -regular in their attendance
upon church, and strict afterwards in keeping in-doors,
that it is recollected, at the end of the last century, or
the commencement of the present, that not a living crea-
ture, save two or three privileged blackguards, were ever
seen walking the streets after Divine service ; or it any
chanced to appear, au errand for the doctor was supposed
to be the probable cause. In 1818-19, during the Radical
period, there were found full three thousand, Paisley-born
and Paisley-bred, who could not read ; and the decline of
intelligence has been followed by the decline of that tem-
perance, prudence and economy, which are the cardinal
virtues of the working-classes, by which alone they can
elevate their condition, or preserve themselves from sink-
ing into the most abject poverty. The Paisley weaver of
forty years ago married early, because he foresaw that he
could, in decency, support a family, and even save some-
'thing for sickness,' or age, or the flactuations of his trade.
The Paisley weaver lad, in 1812, marries equally early on
a pittance that scarcely supports himself ; because he has
neither judgment to reflect on the misery which he is en-
tailing on himself and others, nor moral principle to feel
the solemn obligations of the state into which he is enter-
ing. Those who have no consideration concerning the
things of this life, are not likely to have any forethought
regarding the life to come ; and just in proportion as the
modern Paisley weaver is without religion, does he
despise it. All clergy are necessarily hypocrites, as all
kings and magistrates, in their estimation, tyrants. Uni-
tarianism, Infidelity, or reckless profanity, too generally
abound ; and the popular cry is against all the Church
Establishments, however much demanded by the poverty
and irreligion of our own town ; and against all distinc-
tions of ranks. Thus, measuring themselves by them-
selves, they would reduce society to their own level.
Paisley thus furnishes an affecting illustration of the dt-
claration of holy writ, "That righteousness ex&teth
city; but sin is the ruin of any people."—North British
Review.

LONDON NEWS OF YESTERDAY.

MARK-LANE CORN EXCHANGE.

During the past week rather an extensive supply of English
Wheat came to hand from Lincolnshire, but from Essex and
Kent the receipts of that article of grain were only to a mode-
rate extent. Of other kinds of grain the arrivals were by no
means large. Fresh up the supplies of Wheat coastwise, as well
as by land carriage and sample, were only moderate, yet we had
rather an extensive show of parcels of both red and white, ow-
ing to which the demand for all kinds of Wheat of home pro-
duce was in a very sluggish stats. However, the finest qua.i-
ties were mostly disposed of at fully last week's quotations, but
all other kinds were a mere drug at barely late rates. The ge-
neral condition of the samples was inferior.
The imports of foreign Wheat have been small, and we had very
few samples here to-day. Generally speaking, holders were firm.
The finest qualities commanded a fair inquiry, at very full prices.
in other kinds next to nothing was doing.
A few speculative sales took place in bonded Barley; hut
other Corn, under lock, was almost nominal in value. The
show of Barley was tolerably extensive. Fine parcels so dat a
decline of Is. ; other kinds is. to 2s. per qr., and a large pertion
remained over for Wednesday. The Malt trade was very dull,
and, in some instances, the rates were somewhat easier. The
show of Oats was good, while all descriptions met a slow in-
quiry, at barely last week's quotations. In Beans very little
was doing, at an abatement of is. per quarter. Gray and Ma-
ple Peas were Is. per quarter cheaper, Flour, and all oth2r ar-
ticles, were very dull.

CURRENCY PER IMPERIAL MEASURE.
Wheat, Essex and Kent. s. d. s.

Red 4O 0 50 0
White 46 0 56 0
Norfolk and Lincoln, red S 8 0 46 0
White..
Irish, red
White
Rye, old

30 0-34 0

. .
New • 35 o 36 0
Barley, Grinding 27 0 32 0
Malting
Chevalier 3B 0— 40 0
Malt, Suffolk and Norfolk 5B 0 C. 2 0
Brown 56 0 60 0
Kingston and Ware .
Chevalier
Oats, Yorkshire and Lincolnshire, feed 22 0 23 0
Potatoe
Youghall and Cork, black
Cork, white
Scotch, feed
Beans, tick 36 0 —37 0
Pigeons.
Pease, Grey 36 n —37 0
Maple
White
Boilers 3B 0 43 0
Flour, town made
Suffolk ,3 0 35 0
Stockton and Norfolk 33 0 35 0

FOREIGN GRAIN AND FLOUR IN BOND.

Wheat, Dantzic..
Hamburg
Barley
Oats, new
Feed
Beans .
Peas
Flour, American
[Baltic

32 0 —36 0
33 0 --
27 0 —2s 0
17 0 18 0
15 n 17 0
24 0 29 0
28 0— 82 0
21 0
20 0

SMITHFIELD CATTLE MARKET.

Compared with that exhibited on many previous Monday's,
the supply of Beasts on sale was but moderate, while its gene-
ral quality was very interior. The Beef trade this morning was
active, at an advance in the currencies obtained on this day
se'nnight of quite 2d. per Sibs. ; the best Scuts, &c. readily pro-
ducing 4s ad per Bibs.. and at which improvement a clearance
was effected without difficulty.
During the week the imports of live stock at Hull have amounted
to 96 Beasts and 40 Sheep; in London 72 Oxen and Cows, exclu-
sive of 40 Sheep. To-day we had only five Beasts and 20 Sheep of
feting from Holland. The whole found buyers at a trifle more
money. The arrival of Beasts from Lincolnshire, Leicestershire,
and Northamptonshire amounted to about 1,400 Short Horns.
From Norfolk, Sussex, Essex, and Cambridgeshire, 300 Scots, &c. ;
from the Western and Midland Counties, 600 Devour, Herefords,
Hunts, Irish Beasts, &c ; from other parts of England, 509 of va-
rious breeds, and from Scotland 200 Horned and Polled Scots.
The supply of Sheep was only moderate, but quite equal to
meet the wants of the buyers. Prime old Downs commanded a
steady inquiry, at an advance in the quotations of 2d. per Sibs.,
the highest figure being 4s. 2d. ; but in the value cf other qua-
lities no variation was noticed. The Veal trade was extremely
inactive. Tiler:: was a steady business doing in the primest
Pigs, but other qualities were a mere drug.

Per Sibs. to sink the offal

s. d. s. d. s. d. s. d.
Inferior Beasts.... 2 6 2 6 Second quality do. 3 4 3 8
Second quality do. 2 10— 3 2 Coarse do. 3 8— 3 10
Prime larii:e Oxen. 3 4 3 8 SouthdownWethers4 ( 4 2
Prime Scots, &c... 3 10— 4 2 Do. out of the wool
Coarse Calves .... 3 0— 3 0 Large 1-1-gs
Small do.
Suckling do. each.lB 0-30 Qr. old Pigs, each 16 O—VO 0
Inferior Sheep 3 0— 3 2 Lambs

SUPPLY A'
Beasts, 3,338.... Sheep, 27,24

M RKET.
. .. Calves, 81.... Pigs, 450.

DOMESTIC TRAGEDY.—Perhaps one of the most ar-
fecting suicidal tragedies that has happened in the metro-
polis for many years occurred yesterday at a very early
boar, a'. Le dwelling of a Mr. Duckett, an accountant.
No. 9, Raven-row, Milt. end, viz the self destruction of
Charles Wm. Duckett, aged 21, son, and Elizabeth Wil
liams, aged 22, lovers, from the effects of prussic acid.
EXTENSIVE ROBBERY.—During Sunday last a robbery
took place at the bank of Messrs. Rogers, Olding, and
Co., St. Clement's-lane, and notes and gold to the amount
of £40,000 were stolen. It appears that the money was
deposited in the iron safe; and, as usual, a- clerk was ap-
pointed to watch ouer its safety during the day, and ano-
ther clerk to perform the like duty during the night. One
of the partners remaining at borne on Sunday, the day
clerk-asked permission to go out for a few hours, which
was granted. At the accustomed hour in the evening the
other clerk came, and remained during the night ; but
when business was resumed yesterday, and the iron safe,
opened with the ordinary key, it was found entirely empty;
and yet no force whatever had been used to rid the chest
of its valuable contents. Of course, all is conjecture
upon the subject. Notes to the amount of £35,000 have
been stopped at the Bank.