The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-09-08 00:00:00

VARIETIES.

MARCH OF LUXIIRY.—(Scene, a pothouse.)—Cus-
trouser : Hi! James. Polboy : Now then, what is it ?
Customer: Just pop my arf-an.arf in the Hice a minnit,
that's a good lad.
AN ILL-USED BACHELOR.—A bachelor is published
in the papers of Porkpolis for having refused to pay his
washerwoman's bill. He publishes a card stating that be
refused to pay because she washed all the white out of his
shirts.—Yankee paper.
A SURGICAL COBIILER.—A cobbler of Widmerpool
has lately put a paper over his door bearing the following
inscription : " Surgery performed here upon old boots and
shoes, by adding to the feet, making good the legs, bind-
ing the broken, healing the wounded, mending the con-
stitution, and supporting the body with new soles.—Not-
tiugharn Journal.
A DEDICATION. —The Hindoo, Mohan Lal, Esq.,
knight of the Persian order of the Sun and. Moon, has
recently written a book, which he dedicates to her Majesty
and Prince Albert. He prays—" that as long as the
oceans are filled with water, and the heavens 'decorated
with the sun and moon, the gracious shadow of your Ma-
jesty and his Royal Highness the Prince Albert may never
he diminished from the beads of your British and Indian
subjects."
SPANISH MONASTIC DOINGS IN THE NINETEENTH
CSNTURY.—If, in the year 1835, St. Bernard could have
accompanied us on our visit to the monastery of Beruela
in the Moncayo, surely he would have been indignant,
and would have chastised the monks ; surely he himielf
would have solicited the extinction of his order. Out of
thirty monks, very few confessed, and only two or three
knew how to preach ; every one breakfaste.l and said mass
just when he thought proper ; by nine in the morning they
might be seen wandering about the neighbouring country
and gardens, or shooting small birds near the gates of the
monastery ; at eleven, they assembled in a cell to play
mond with visitors from the neighbouring towns and vil-
lages, winning and losing thousands of reels. During
dinner, instead of having some grave and proper book
read aloud to them, one of their number relating obscene
stories for the amusement of his companions ; at dessert
the finest wines were served, the monks played upon the
piano, and sang indecent songs. The siesta passed away.
the afternoon, until, towards evening, these self-denying
anchorites roused themselves from their slumbers, and re-
sumed their favourite amusement of birding and tale-
telling. At nightfall the green cloth was again spread,
and the cards were in full activity ; sometimes six or eight
of the monks got upon their mules, and rode & distance of
two or three leagues to a ball, dressed in the height of the
fashion. The writer of these pages once asked the prior
to let him see the paintings executed by the brotherhood ;
he was conducted to the apartments of the abbot, and in
the most secluded of them was shown a wretched daub, of
which the subject was shamefully coarse and disgusting.
* * Many of the women of the neighbouring village
of Vera went by the names of the monks; and so great
became the scandal, that, on one occasion, when the na.:
tional guards were sent upon an expedition; the alcalde
issued an order prohibiting their wives to walk in the di-
rection of the monastery. One woman, who disobeyed the
injunction, was made to pay a fine, and narrowly escaped
having her head shaved in the public market-place.—
Caiello's History of the War in "Irragoti and Valentia.

AN OLD
(From the People's Journal.)
When I was first built, I commanded a prospect that
extended for miles across the open country on one side,
while on another I surveyed London and its river with-
out being unplea,antly neghboured by its hubbub. I had
a rich garden of my own, which increased my consequence,
like a fine lady's page. Now—l frown from all my win-
dows at the affront—l stand in a crowded, feculent court,
down which no decent inuividual hurries without holding
his nose. The habitations of the poor have sprung up,
fungus-like, around roe. I am buttressed by vile tene-
ments. The hinges of all my doors creak at the foul
abomination.

You will observe, that in the depth of my reverses my
notions are still genteel. 'Pon my— I was about to
swar by tapestry, forgetting that it disappeared whole
generations ago. Well, on the word of a dwelling that
once entertained Old Rowley within its walls, I would
make an effort even now to be respectable, if you could
give me the faintest hope of success.
But you cannot. No. lam doomed to end my days
in what my owners—especially the mad bloods of itowley's
time—would term shocking vulgarity, unutterable degra-
dation. At least, then, let me be wholesome. Let the
untainted breeze of heaven visit me, as of yore. Purge
me of•the foul odours which my thresholdl every day snuffs
up. I hear my inmates—the horny-palmed—say that the
Press, now-a-days, can accomplish what it pleases. If
the assertion be correct, I trust to you for the purification
of the neighbourhood in which I have had the misfortune
to grow old. My age and experience, not to speak of my
having seen better days, are my apology for thus taxing
you. Not to trespass too long upon your space, 1 will
relate an incident which occurred in one of my apartments
only the day before yesterday. The child of an honest
journeyman, in the bell-hanging trade, had fallen ill, and
was unable to quit its little bed, though its weekly earnings
were of sufficient importance to the family to make its
health a matter of some consequence towards the attain-
ment of a due supply for their wants, independently of
all tender considerations.
He was a very young child to be already a labourer in
the rough paths of the world. When he first came to
dwell under my roof, I beheld his pretty pale face with an
interest that I never felt before. I saw the angel looking
through his eyes. Oh, that his lot had transported him
to the Antipodes, rather than that he should have been
brought vi inhale the noxious miasma of this terrible spot.
. .

He was very meek, and displayed towards his parents,
and his brothers and sisters, an attachment which I con-
termilatecl with admiration. The feelings it occasioned
thrilled my rafters. On no former occasion have I expe-
rienced equal emotion. I observed him sink by slow de-
grees, and grow more and more to resemble the dead that
I saw borne from my door at the time of the Great Plague.
Strange, that I could note what his parents had not eyes
to see. He went to his work regularly yet—day by day.
At night he crawled to his home more enfeebled than when
he set forth in the morning. The final change was coming
on—hour by hour it was drawing nigher. Death, the de-
liverer, had kissed his cheek.
" You must get a doctor for the boy," remarked the
occupant of the adjoining room, a leciter match vendor.
The child's parents shook their heads—" He will soon be
bette ." they said ; •' poor folks like us can't afford to
hav•• a child ill."
Ant still he declined—still grew worse and worse. One
morning, about a week ago, he turned his beautiful eyes
upon his mother, and said plaintively—" Mother, dear, I
cannot get up to-day." " Not get up to-day !" The
woman was alarmed. She bent over him. She had tra-
vailed for that Child and he was dying. She saw it now,
and cursed her short-sightedness and selfishness. Dying,
and but the other day she refused him a doctor, lest they
should lose the weekly stipend he earned, by his having
to absent himself from work !
" I do think, ma,her," he said, " that it is elos-
room, and the nasty smells that come from ihe court be-
low, which have made me ill."
I thought so too, or rather I knew it.
He died the day before yesterday. And bow many
other human beings, adults as well as children, has the
fetid atmosphere around me hurried to a premature grave.
Mortality is so frequent in this court as to occasion no
surprise; yet a man &lid jestingly on my threshold this
morning—" No old people die here." He was right; for
none live to grow old. It I might be permitted to ex-
press an opinion, as a house of grave character and con-
siderable exp'ricnce, I would suggest that there must be
something frightluily " rotten in the state of Denmark,"
as Will Shakspetue says.

•
But you know best. Perhaps it is apart of the economy
of governments to kill off their poor as rapidly as possible.
I would ask one question, however. May not the fevers,
and other contagions diseases, begotten in my vicinity,
spread to the dwellings of the wealthy, and breed sad
havoc there ? Altogether, I must beg leave to doubt the
policy of such legislative neglect. The very first thing
which I would do, if I had the power, would be to im-
prove the dwellings of the poor; and wouldn't I look
after the drains and sewers ? and wouldn't I widen the
narrow thoroughfares, and pass an act for the abolition of
courts and alleys. By my—my tapestry again! I would
invite the sweet breath of Heaven to visit the poorest
chamber in the metropolis, without risking its pollution
by. the allowed presence of any typhus-engendering filth.
Perhaps government may be contemplating something to
this end. You know best.

DEFENCE OF THE GOOSE.—II is a great libel to accuse
a goose of being a silly bird. Even a tame goose shows
meaty instinct and attachment ; and were its habits more
closely observed, the tame goose would be found to be by
no means wanting in general cleverness. Its watchfulness
at night-time is, and always has been proverbial; and it
certainly is endowed with a strong organ of self-preserva-
tion. You may drive over dog, cat, hen, or pig; but I
defy you to drive over a tame goose. As for wild geese,
I know of no animal, biped or quadruped. that is so diffi-
cult to deceive or approach. Their senses of hearing,
seeing, and smelling, are all extremely acute; independ-
ently of which, they appear to act in so organised and
cautious a manner when feeding or roosting, as to defy all
danger. Many a time has my utmost caution been of no
avail in attempting to approach these birds; either a care-
less step on a piece of gravel, or an eddy of wind, however
light, or letting them perceive the smallest portion of my
person, has rendered useless whole hours of manceuvring.
—Wild Sports of the Highlands.
GENERAL MAREY'S DOMESTICATED LION.—Was
magnificent animal, two years old, and full grown all but
his mane, which, although only a foot long, made, never-
theless, a respectable appearance ; he did not seem to care
about our being strangers, but walking about the room
like a large dog, permitted us to take liberties with him,
such as patting him, shaking a paw, and making him
exhibit his teeth and claws. He showed, however, a
marked predilection in favour of his old acquaintances,
and laying down before them, turned on his back to be
scratched. After a scratch or two, he began to yawn, and
was fairly settling himself for a nap, when a cigar was
puffed in his face—a proceeding he evidently did not ap-
prove of—rising in a hurry, caning up his lips, and wrink-
ling his nose, he exposed to view a splendid set of teeth—
a sure sign. that he was not pleased. A hearty sneeze
seemed to restore him to good temper; and bearing no
malice, he returned a friendly pat, bestowed upon him by
Captain Martenot, who had been the aggressor, by rub-
bing his head caressingly against his knees.—Algeria and
Tunis in 1845.

- ....... ... ........
ST. WINIFRED'S WELL.—We would recommend any 1
strangers to the spot to visit it, should an opportunity
offer, and judge with their own eyes of the lightness and
beauty of the tall pointed arches and the flying buttress
that adorn the exterior, and to decide whether the interior
is not even more worthy of notice. The well into which
the miraculous stream pours forth its astounding body of
water is polygonal ; the columns that rise above it are
singularly beautiful, and viler many serpentine wander-
ings meet and form a canopy worthy of the water-king,
who, doubtless, frequently holds there his court. The
legend, of the saint, and beautiful carvings in stone, are
scattered around, but they appear to have been placed
'there to do honour to the house of Stanley, and not to the
saint,—by no means an astonishing circumstance, for the
saint had been long dead, and was, probably, tired of
working miracles; and the Stanleys were living, and will-
ing to bestow munificent gifts, of which this building and
the chapel above it remain memorials to this day. But to
return to our travellers, who are still standing on the
same spot, where Mr. Parry left them ; a crowd around a
small spring close to the road prevented their advancing.
At length the crowd began to disperse, but many aged per-
sons remained seated on the brink of the well, who bathed
their eyes with the water with one hand, whilst with the
other they dropped a crooked pin into the spring, mutter-
in at the same time a spell, but in so low a voice that the
w ds were not intelligible. These poor deluded creatures
ir
be icved that the dimness of age, or any other disease that
had attacked their eyesight, would be washed away by the
miraculous powers of the water of this well, when used
with faith on the 22nd of Jnne.—Llewelyn's Heir, or
North Wales during the last Century.
Tux PorAro CHOLERA.—Much is said, and has been
said, concerning what are termed o' Years of Famine,"
but it is not generally known, that since the introduction
of the potato into this country,.no year has ever passed
which, in some remote locality or other, has not been
such to the unfortunate inhabitants. The climate of Ire-
land is so unsettled, its soil so various in quality, and the
potato .o liable to injury from excess of either drought or
moisture, that we have no hesitation in stating the start-
ling fact of this annual famine as one we can vouch for, 1
upon our own personal knowledge, and against the truth
of which we challenge contradiction. Neither does an
autumn pass without a complaint peculiar to those who
feed solely upon the new and unripe potato, and which,
ever since the year '32, is known by the people as the po-
tato cholera. With these circumstances the legislature
ought to be acquainted, inasmuch as they are calamities
that will desolate and afflict the country, so long as the
potato is permitted to be, as it unfortunately is, the staple
food of the people. That we are subject, in consequence
of that fact, to periodical recurrences of dearth and dis-
ease, is well known and admitted ; but that every season
bringsits partial scourge of both these evils, to various
remote and neglected districts in Ireland, has not been,
what it ought long since to have been, an acknowledged
and established fact in the sanatory statistics of the coun-
try. Indeed, one would imagine, that after the many
terrible visitations which we have had from destitution
and pestilence, a legislature sincerely anxious for the
health and comfort of the people, would have devoted it-
self, in some reasonable measure, to the humane consider-
ation of such proper sumptuary and sanatory enactments,
as would have provided not only against the recurrence
of these evils, but for a more enlightened system of public
health and cleanliness, and a better and more comfortable
provision of food for the indigent and poor. As it is at
present, provision dealers of all kinds, meal-mongers,
forestallers, butchers, bakers, and huxters, combine i
to-
gether, and sustain such a general monopoly n food, as is
at variance with the spirit of all law and humanity, and
constitutes a kind of artificial famine in the country ; and
surely these circumstances ought not to be permitted, so
I long as we have a deliberative legislature, whose duty it
is to watch and guard the health and morals of the people.
—Carleton, in Dublin university Magazine.