The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1851-06-10 00:00:00

mpire ; but he, still more urge

cessity of protection t

the land we live in.

a policy as will prote

:oming

looks upon Lord S

,anley as the E

duty upon wheat as ttia it

of our moneta

pen his observation ;

now as a too-long def.

bring about unjust results

These letters to tine veneral
a rejoinder from " one of J
takes up the question of a ref

British industry. On t

But I will here vertu

which Lord Stanley contemplat,
propositions of Mr. Disraeli, wit
relief to the farmer. They would

nto his eyes in the name c

Lusted, yet rec

hinr which would scarc

and yet to 1!(

think themselves mulch better

lated to deceiN

a'ieven-ue, which the fr.(
iuitant, and others, wool,

uction of fax

Ird no protection

At interests he calls

The evil it

higher, and really protective duty, is imp
present state of the public mind. We c
Freetrade nor Protection under our pr
He says :

" With 'free trade and a fettered
will be long able to maintain its posi
which this combination of evils will

ss. duty would be able to meet t
country from the perils with whicl

Sir Edwara's notions, as to a pr

a fire-s

,eing the sole remedy for ou:

resent e

"You say, sir, (p. POO in add
facturers and free traders: ' Yc

ach. A

neither have

aonetar

aty tipor

the manu-
lessings of

peace—You cannot prize those blessing

y; I;ut i

there no danger in impressing upon the ti
martial part of your population, that it

chance of return from property and rc
Do you think, sir, or do others think,

means—' the sole chance of a returnYr
neration for labour?' I fear I do not un
but I will here remark that war has in i

aln property and remu-
lerstand you correctly;
tself nothing to do with
lack in history, or into

such results. It nett
those books which will shoe
you will find no advance in
beyond those of peace. It wa
the currency was released from its metallic basis, that prices
rose with the increase of taxation and of public debt • and
whilst such debt and taxation exist, it is necessary to uphold a
higher range of prices, to meet the demands of taxation ; but
which the return to metallic money and the adoption of free
trade render impossible. Think no more, then, of the paltry
protection of Is. or Bs. : it will be useless and deceptive. Your
only course is to adopt a national currency, fitted to the
existing state of things; it is the only remedy of a practical
nature in the present temper of ti
for adoption—the only one ouch

periOds, and
Mods of war
st war, when

ch prices in pei

of the state and its present institutions.
rely upon it England must recede in the sc
it will be happy for her if she escapes a
With respect to the difficulty whit

y for the safety
,g!ect this, and

of nations, an

:11. is alleged to stand

in the way of a return to a just system of money, we per-
fectly agree with the writer of the pamphlet; and his
closing remarks are worthy of the attention of every
thinking man
.•••• • • • -

„That Peel's bill of 1819 was a most unjust and inconsiderate
measure, I believe you are ready to admit. But whether that
bill added N per cent. or 100 per cent. to the weight of the
public debt, and of all other monied debts, as has been
differently estimated, I will not stop to inquire. I -will, how-
ever, venture to say, that had that bill never passed, and had
the same monetary system been continued as prevailed during
and at the close of the war, there can scarcely exist a doubt
that a very large portion of the public debt might by this time
have been paid off, ptohahly 500 millions. And if 'so, would
not England have then stood in a high and proud pc
compared with her present one? What is that •
We find her writhing under the pressure of bur
neither remove nor sustain without ditticultN

paralysation of her pow

out for

he can

d a great
session the eounay is
and \Nit en
grate relief.

partially lightened, the people still fine
Crippled by her own suicidal acts, Eng

;lard is

that high and coalman

sustained amongst the powers of

e. Her i avenue is with
period of peace. How
iiture of a protracted
n revert

difficulty squeeied from the people it
could she, then, support the heavy c
war? We know very well she must, in that case, a
to an inconvertible currency, and this with the 1

1;y burt

of the preceding contest still weighing upon her resources.
Are the nations of Europe, think you, blind to our condition?
I believe not. They are fully aware of the trammels into
which we have run. They know that we stand in a less
formidable attitude than at any preceding period—they know
that Lord John Russell would scruple to say, as Lord Chatham
once did, that not a cannon should be fired in Europe without
his permission. How, then, are the mighty fallen ! Where is
our pre-eminence? Certainly not in the financial resources of
our present system."

The debt of the country thus reduced, we might
have had cheapness—healthy cheapness—cheapness not
attained by driving our sempstresses to live on the wages
of infamy, and our working classes generally to live in
hovels, and to curse the institutions of their fatherland ;
but, instead, cheapness, the result of the superior energy,
skill, freedom of action, and civilisation of British men.

Douglas Jerrold rebuked Albert Smith, the novelist,
who was boasting of his intimacy with Lamartine, the
great French statesman. Among other things Smith said
that " he and Lamartine were like brothers—in short,
that they had rowed in the same boat !" Jerrold signifi-
cantly scratched his head, saying—" You may row in the
same boat, but with a different sort of sculls."
A QUAKERESS AT SCHOOL.—There were two of the
girls given to preaching; these two—both prime pets of
Sister Betsy—plagued me sadly. My hair was long. Ohi!
what concern Eliza Morland had that I should not or
have it cropped off like her own, but that, influenced
her persuasion, I should ask permission to bare it d
She said "it would be an acceptable sacrifi
my boots ; there was a tassel on my boots, w

They en:

Liza and Anrip
ionish or

great mental concern to both E
treated me to cut off the Baby,
me " I would have peace in so doing." Another thing
disturbed these righteous girls, as Sister Betsy once called
them to me ; that was, that before getting into bed, I
knelt to repeat the Lord's prayer, as my mother had ever
taught me to do. There was not one of all the forty girls,
but myself, had been so habituated. Eliza and Anne re-
monstrated with me on this, which they called a Popish
practice ; and because I paid no regard to their preach-
ings, they then went and told Sister Betsy, and she forbad
me to kneel. She said, "it was too solemn an act for
any one but an appointed minister of our Society, and
wholly unbecoming in one so far from righteousness as I
was." One of our girls used to make for herself, and
wear, most enormous pockets. " Jane," said I, "isit to
be thought pious, thou bast such big pockets ?" She
laughed. " Yes," said she, " Sister Betsey does think
them more friendly than thy littir, cerans of things; but
they are very convenient. Look

! what I I

and told

in them

now." I looked, and saw a good sized book ; it was
Ivanhoe. '•I can always borrow fa, book when Igo fto
dine with my cousin on first day," said Jane; and if thou
wilt write out my French exercise for me, I will let then
read it." I gladly agreed ; and whether it was because
stolen waters are sweet, or because of the exceeding fasci-
nation of the book itself, certainly no one ever enjoyed a
book more than I did that, and some more of the same
delightful author's works, which I obtained in the same
manner. When reading it in the arbour or in the study
I always took care to provide myself with either an Atlas
or Sarah Grubb's Journal ; and then if either one of the
mistresses or one of the spy girls came in sight, the novel
was popped under, and the Atlas or the Journ
innocent or edifying.—Quakerism by a MeiriL
Society for forty years.
WHAT HAD WARREN HASTINGS DONE 1-1
faults—and they were neither. few nor srnal

al looked
er of the

fly one
In that

cemetery was worthy to contain his remains. _
temple of silence and reconciliation, where the enmities
of twenty generations lie buried, in the Great Abbey,
which has, during many ages, afforded a quiet resting-
place to those whose minds and bodies have been shattered
by the contentions of the Great Hall, the dust of the
illustrious dead should have mingled with the dust of the
illustrious accusers. This was not to be. Yet the place
of interment was not ill chosen. Behind the chancel of
the parish church of Daylesford, in earth which
already held the bones of many chiefs of the house
of Hastings, was laid the coffin of the greatest man wh.

Y-yeeZnWornea,
the
little Warren, meanly clad and scantily fed, had played
with the children of ploughmen. Even then his young
retrievedbly,
sYet,
e mindstr revolvedhalnoawgdeetvialeesr
tfrah olelmetnar planstruth.
.ttohire.t,
ui
fortunes
ctonhfootmini beiihitnyaed_t h
the
eltt
heopednoy
loryiori
amohdraapbidi
het
ahei romantic.
On
ans
thatev er
Nb:gryn es
ptohta that
ia.onbcai and
fourscorexl
t
ly
is
repurchased the old lands, and rebuilt the old dwelling—
he had preserved and extended an empire. He had
founded a polity. He had administered government and
war with more than the capacity of Richelieu. lie had
been attacked by the most formidable combinatk.
enemies that ever sought the destruction of a single victim
and over that combination, after a struggle of ten years
he had triumphed. He had, at length, gone down.to

grave in the fulness of age, in peace, after so many
troubles—in honor, after so much obloquy. Those who
look on his character without favour or malevolence, will
pronounce that, in the two great elements of social virtue,
in respect for the rights of others. and in sympathy for
the suffering of others, he was deficient. His priTICIPICS
were somewhat lax. His heart was somewhat large. But
though we cannot, with truth, describe him either as a
righteous or as a merciful ruler, we cannot r
admiration the amplitude and fertility of hi!
rare talents for command, for administra
controversy, his dauntless courage, hi
poverty, his fervent zeal for the interests of
noble equanimity, tried by bothextren
never disturbed by either.--
B. Macaulay

." Trarreii-11-as

s intellect, his

fortimr