The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-07-09 00:00:00

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SELECTIONS.

IRISH MODE OF GETTING RID OF AN AWKWARD
WITNESS.—" It is to be hoped that his last affair may
last him for the remainder of his life. At his years and
mine, Mrs. Mary, there's more to be thou lit of limn the
laws of honour. But inched Longuevil'e's affair was a
thing of the moment ; it arose out of the great trial of the
Swindletraps, at the ass zes before last. Longueville was
the chief witness against them, and Miles Swindletrap
thought he might put him out of the way. The colonel
used to walk early in the morning by the water side—
Miles took care to meet him, and the thing was soon set-
tled. A word and a blow affair. They drew—both good
swordsmen—but Swindletrap was in the duel what he
used to be in court. Longuevilie made two passes that
should either of them have settled the neater. Suddenly
he hears a fellow in the crowd (for you may be sure there's
no place so lonely that a duel wont bring a multitude
there,) cry out the word ' rabbit.' Now, just think of his
quickness in such a time; be pushes next sir ight for the
neck, where rabbits are sometimes killed with a stroke.
and the sword goes clean through the throat and out at
the back of the head—Swindlettap was buffed. Longue-
ville wipes the blood off his sword—' Not bad," says he,
' for seventy-two,' an I walks back to breakfast."—The
Nvvilles of Garrelslown, in Dublin Universily Mag.
STORY OF A MONKEY.—Some time ago a French
gentleman, who was very fond of animals and of natural
history, brought from the captain of a ship a monkey re-
markable for its cleverness and surprising powers of imi-
tation. The same gentleman had a magnificent parrot for
several years, which was a great pet in the family.
Poor poll evidently did not like the new -corner,
and from the first regarded him with an evil eye. The
monkey, on his side, was quite ready to take up a
quarrel, acid exerted all his cleverness to teaze and annoy
his companion; so that often it was found necessary to
separate them by violent means. At length. one night,
when all the household had retired to rest, they were
waked up by piercing screams, as if from a person being
murdered. The gentleman started up, and se zing his
gun, rushed towards the room whence the screams pro-
ceeded. All the house was soon stirring, each one armed
with the first weapon he could lay his hands on ; and ac-
companied by this escort, the master of the house opened
the door, and there beheld the monkey with a large
kitchen-I:idle in one hand, with which the cook had killed
some chickens the day before, and holding the unfortunate
parot in the other. He had killed the poor bird in the
same way that he had seen the chickens killed the day
before. The cook had missed the knife immediately after
using it; so it was supposed the monkey had hidden it
till a convenient moment should am rive for executing his
plan of vengeance.—Burns' Magazinefor the Young.

LABOURS OF A. LORD CRANCELLOR.—The following
is an extract from a letter wr tten by the late Lord Eldon,
just published in a Lfe of the venerable chancellor :
" After all, Mary, I think I am wonderful, considering
how much I hive gone through; for mine has been no
easy life. I will tell you what once happened to me. I
WAS ill with the gout; it was in my feet, so I was carried
into my carriage, arid from it I was carried into my court.
There I remained all the day, and delivered an arduous
judgment. In the evening I was carried straight from
my court to the House of Lords : there I sat until two
o'clock in the morning, when some of the Lords came
and whispered to me that I was expected t,) speak. I told
them I really could not, I was ill, and I enuld not stand ;
but they still urged. arid at last I hobbled, in some way
or other, with their assistance, to the place from which I
usually addressed the House. It was an important ques-
tion: I forgot my gout. and spoke for two hours (on the
peace of Amiens.) Well, the House broke up, I was
carried home, and at s x in the morning I prepa•ed to go
to bed. My poor left leg had just got in, when 1 recol-
lected I had importat.t papers to look.over, and that I had
not had time to examine them ; so I pulled my poor left
leg out of bed, put on my clothes, and went to my study.
I did examine thepapers •, they related to the Recorcar's
Report, which had to be heard that day ; I wa: again car-
ried into court, where I had to deliver another arduous
judgment, again went to the house of Lords, and it was
not till the middle of the second night that I vt into
bed. These are hard trials to a man's constitution."

FEMALE WOKKERS IN COTTON-MILLS.—The great
majority, probably nine tenths, of all the workers in cot-
ton-mills or printhe ds, are females. We have heard
much of the profligacy and licentiousness which pervade
such establishments ; but though that may be too true in
some cases, it is for from being universal, or even gene-
ral ; and there are numerous instances of female virtue
being as jealously guarded and effectually preserved in
such establishments, as in the most secluded rural dis-
tricts. The real evils—and they follow universally from
moll employment of the juvenile females in great numbers
in laborious but lucrative employment—are the emanci-
pation of the young from parental control, the temptation
held out to idleness in the parents from the possibility of
living on their children, and the disqualifying the girls
for performing all the domestic duties of wives and mo-
thers in after life. The evils are real, general, and of
ruinous consequence. When children—from the age of
nine r ten in some establishments, of thir een and four-
teen in all—are able to earn wages varying from 3s. 6d. to
6e. a week, they soon become in practice independent of
parental control. The strongest of all securities for filial
obedience—a sense of dependence—is destroyed. The
children assert the right of self-government, because they
bear the burden of self-maintenance. Nature, in the or-
dinary case, has effectual!, provided against this prema-
ture and fatal emancipation of the young, by the pro-
tracted period of weakness during childhood and adoles-
cence, which precludes the possibility of serious labour
being undertaken before the age when a certain degree of
mental firmness has been acquired. But the steam-en-
gine, amidst its other marvels, has entirely destroyed,
within the sphere of its influence, this happy and neces-
sary exemption of infancy from labour. Steam is the
moving power • it exerts the strength ; the human ma-
chine is required only to lift a web periodically, or damp a
roller, or twirl a film round the finger, to which the hands
of infancy are as adequate as those of mature age. Hence
the general employment of children, and especially girls,
in such employments. They are equally serviceable as
men or women, and they are more docile, cheaper, and
less given to strikes. But as these children earn their
own subsistence, they soon become rebellious to parental
authority, and exercise the freedom of middle life as soon
as they feel its passions, and before they have acquired its
self-control.— Causes of the Increase of Crime, in Black-
wood's Magazine.
LORD ELDON'S FULFILMENT OF A PROMISE.—In
1783 when Mr. Scott, afterwards Lord Eldon, first be-
came a candidate for the borough of Weobly, he was re-
ceived and lodged in the house of Mr. Bridge, the vicar,
who, having a daughter then a young child, took a jocular
promise from him, that if he should ever become Chan-
cellor, and the little girl's husband should be a clergy-
man, the Chancellor would give that clergyman a living.
Now comes the sequel, partly related by Lord Eldon
himself to his niece (Mrs. Foster.) "Years rolled on—
I came into office : when one morning I was told a young
lady wished to speak to me; and I said that young ladies
must be attended to, so they must show her up. And
up came a very pretty young lady, and she curtsied and
simpered, and said, she thought 1 could not recollect her.
I answered I certainly did not, but perhaps she could
recall herself to my memory ; so she asked if I remem-
bered the clergyman at Vv'eobly, and his little girl to
whom I had made a promise. Oh, y,es !' I said, 'I do
and I suppose you are the little girl? She curtsied and
said Yes." And I suppose you are married to a clergy-
man ?" No,' she said, and she blushed, 'I am only
going to be married to one, if you, my lord, will give him
a living.' Well, I told her to come back in a few days ;
and I made inquiries to ascertain from the bishop of the
diocese that the gentleman she was going to be married
to was a respectable clergyman of the Church of England ;
and then I looked at my list, and found I actually had a
living vacant that I could give him. So when the young
lady came back I told her she might return home and
get married as fast as she liked, for her intended husband
should be presented to a living, and I would send the
papers as soon as they could be made out. ' Oh, no! she
exclaimed, and again she simpered, and blushed, and
curtsied ; ' pray, my lord, let me take them back myself.'
I was a good deal amused; ao I actually had the papers
made out, and I signed them,
herself the following day dshe took them back
gain Lord Eldon.

PORTUGAL —There are few things more remarkable in
diplomat c hisim y titan' the lime, connexion of Portugal
with Ea...timid. It arose r aurally from the commerce of
the two nations—Pm-trig elre idy the most adventurous
of nations, aid England growing in commereiil enter-
prise. The advantages here mutual. In the year 1367,
tie have a Portuguese treaty stipula•itig for protection to
the Portueu •se grad irs in England. In 1382, a royal or-
der of Richard II permits the Portuguese ambassador to
bring his baggage into England free of duty—perhaps one
of the earliest instances which marked the progress of ci-
vilisation, and winch has since been generally adopted
thrnughout. all civilised nations. A decree of Henry IV.,
in 1405. exonerates the Portuguese resident in England,
and their from being made responsible for the debts
contracted by their ambassadors. In 1656 the important
privilege was concerted to the English in Portugal, of be-
ing exempted from the native jurisdiction, and bring tried
by a judge app ainted by England. This, in our days,
might he an inadmissible ; but two centuries
ago, in the disturbed condition of the Portuguese laws and
general society, it might have been necessary for the sim-
ple protection of the straneers.—Blackwood's Magazine.
A DINNEIt WITH THE RAJAH OV BHURTPORE.—The
Rajah of Bhortpore gave an entertainment to the European
residents of Agra, while we were there. He had some
large tents pitched near the fort, handsomely carpeted,
and hung with a most singular colection of handsome
glass lustres. gilt chandeliers, tin candlesticks, valuable
paintings, and twopenny prints, mixed together in most
beterogeaeous confusion. He evidently thought them all
very fine and well matched. We sat down, in number
about two hundred, to a dinner in the European style,
which was really exceedingly well got up, excepting that
there was the same mixture of the best and commonest
description of articles as was exhibited in the adornment
of the tents. So re of the plates and dishes were of the
richest china, while others were of the meanest blue
crockery, and handsome ivory mounted table cutlery were
nixed up with the vilest black-handled imi•ation of knives
and forks I ever saw. In the centre of the. table was an
immense pie, to ascertain the contents of which much
curiosity prevailed. At last it was cut open by some one
near,- when ow. Hew about twenty little birds, which had
been concealed under this mountain of paste. The rajah
seemed much tickled at the surprise depicted in the coun-
tenances of those around, and laughed till his fat sides
shook again. It was, however, no effort of the obese lid-
tentate's own invention; hardly any native entertainment
ever taking place without some dish of the kind. There
was plenty of wine of all sorts, champaene corks were
flying in every direction, and altogether the banquet was
on the most liberal scale.—Greenwood's Campaign in
Afghanistan. _ _

-CRIME IN THE MANUFACTURING DISTRICTS.—The
great source of demoralization, destitution, and crime in
the manufacturing districts arises from the sudden con-
gregation of human beings in such fearful multitudes to-
gether, that all the usual alleviations of human suffering,
modes of providing for human indigence, entirely fail.
We wonder et the sapid increase of crime in the manu-
factin ing districts, forgetting that a squalid mass of two
or three hundred thousand human being. are constantly
precipitated to the bottom of society in a few cd'unties, in
such circumstances of destitution that recklessness arid
crime arise naturally, it may almost be said unaveidably,
amongst them. And it is in the midst of such gigantic
causes of evil—of causes arising from the extraordinary
and unparalleled influx of manktnd into the m inufactur-
ing districts during the last forty years; which can bear a
comearison to nothing but the collection of the host with
hich Napoleon invaded Russia, or Timour and Genghis
KIM() de-ola ed Asia—that we are gravely told that it is
to be arrested by education and moral training ; by infant
schools and shortened hours of labour; by multiplication
of ministers and solitary ionpeisonment ! All these are
very good things ; each in its way is calculated to do a
certain amount of good ; and their united action upon
the whole will doubtless, in process of time, produce some
impression upon the aspect of society, even in the densely
peopled manufacturing districts. As to their producing
any immediate effect, or in any sensible degree arresting
the prodigious amount of misery, destitution, and crime
which pervades them, you might as well have tried, by the
schoolmaster, to arrest the horrors o, the Moscow retreat.
—Causes of the Increase of Crime, in Blackwood's May.
MANNERS IN IRELAND IN 1760.—There was some-
thing very impressive in the manner in which the aristo-
cracy of that day presented themselves upon occasions of
pomp and ceremony among the people. Favourite actors
were not more attentive to costume, nor were theatrical
processions arranged more carefully than the " exits and
entrances" of the gentlemen of Munster, when they as-
sembled at the assizes. The town was their stage—the
whole public their auditory ; and they dressed and deco-
rated with an anxiety not less than profes-ional, to pro-
duce effect. Nor was this ostentation impolitic. By the
high bearing of the gentry, a sense of their superiority was
impressed upon the people • and passions were frequently
overawed and kept in check by a stately carriage, which,
nad they broken out in popular violence, would have been
with very great difficulty resisted. The times, too, de-
manded, on the part of every gentleman, a train attendant,
on which he could place reliance for needful defence, no
less than for pureoses of show. He lived surrounded by
a population where law was had in little esteem. Its lic.
tors, the constabulary of the time, were not well qualified
to add to the majesty of its terrors—to grace its pumps, or
to enforce its ordinances. The military, narrowly limited
in numbers, and widely dispersed, could do little more
than retain the towns, and occasionally make demonstra-
tions of strength, to overawe a turbulent district. Every
landed proprietor was thus taught to feel that he must
find protection in his stout heart and practised arm, and
in the services of his faithful retainers. Tnus each gentle.
man, according to his property and degree, had a train
more or less numerous, constituting, whatever he chose to
ca 1 it, what was substantially his body-guard. The sys-
tem or fashion might be described as general throughout
the country. The gentleman had his followers—the poor
man of influence had his faction. All had something to
look to for protection, different from, and often oppoged
to, the laws which all professed to live under.—The Ne-
ville: of Garrelstown, in Dublin University Magazine.
TOM PINCH IN HIS HAPPY RETIREMENT.—What
sounds are these that fall so grandly on the ear! What
darkened room is this! Arid that mild figure seeted at
an organ, who is he ? Ah Tom, dear Tom, old friend !
Thy head is prematurely grey, though Time has passed
between thee and our old association, Tom. But in those
sounds with which is is thy wont to bear the twilightcnm-
pany, the music of thy heart speaks out : the story of thy
life relates itself. Tny life is tranquil, calm, and happy,
Torn. In the soft strain which ever and again comes
stealing hack upon the ear. the memory of thine old love
may find a voice perhaps • hut it is a pleas tot, softened,
whispering memory, lake that in which we sometimes hold
the dead, and does not pain or grieve thee, God be
thanked ! Touch the notes lightly, Torn. as lightly as
t'iou wilt, but never will thine hand fall half so lightly on
that Instrument as on the head of thine old tyrant brought
down very, very low ; and never will it make as hollow a
response to any touch of thine, as he does always. For a
drunken, begging, squalid-letter-writing man, caged
Pecksniff, with a shrewish daughter, haunts thee, Tom;
and when he makes appeals to thee for cash, reminds thee
that he built thy fortunes better than his own ; and when
he spends it, entertains the ale-hou-e company, will tales
of thine ingratitude and his munificence towards t hee once
upon a time; and then he skews his elbows worn in holes,
and puts his eoleless shoes up, on a bench, and begs his
auditors look there; while thou art comfortably housed
and clothed. All known to thee, and yet all borne a WI,
Tom ! So. with a smile upon thy face, thou passest gen-
tly to another measure ; to a quicker and more joyful one;
and little feet are used to dance about thee at the sound;
and bright young eyes to glance up into thine. And
there is one sight creature, Tom—her child ; not Ruth's
—whom thine eyes follow in the romp and dance : who,
wondering sometimes to see thee look so thoughtful, runs
to climb up on thy knee, and put her cheek to thine :
who loves the?, Tom, above the test, if that can he : and
falling sick once, chose thee for her nurse: and never
knew impatience, Tom, when Thou wert by her side.
Thou glidest now, into a graver air : an air devoted to old
friends and byegone times; and in thy lingering touch
upon the keys, and the rich swelling of the mellow har-
mony, they rise befere thee. The spirit of that old man
dead, who delighted to anticipate thy wants, and never
ceased to honour thee, is there, among the rest : repeat-
ing, with a face composed and calm, the words he said to
thee upon his bed, and blessing thee ! And coming from
a garden, Tom : bestrewn with flowers by children's
bands : iy sister little Ruth, as light of foot and heart as
in old days, sits down beside thee. From the Present,
and the Past, with which she is so tenderly entwined in
all thy thoughts, thy strain soars onward to the Future.
As it resounds within thee and without, thy kindling face
looks on her with a Love and Trust, that knows it cannot
die. The noble music, rolling round her in a cloud of
melody, shuts out the grosser prospect of an earthly part-
ing, and upllts her, Tom, to Heaven !—Martin Claus-
zlewit.
AN least' SHERIFF IN 1760.—" You must know, sir,".
said tbe old gentleman, Mr. Chamberlain, to the stranger
who afforded him a convenient opportunity of relating his
knowledge, " You must know that one of the Maras was
foster brother to Mr. Prittyman of Gayville, and had be-
side the strongest faction in the country. The petition
was ready to be sent up to Dublin Castle, and all the pri-
soners had to do was to get a long day from the time of
the sentence. Well, it was dark in the evening when the
jury came in with the verdict. You could not see a fea-
ture in any man's face. But there was not much thought
about the thing for awhile. Every one knew the fellows
must be brought in gu lty. The judge, Judge Crofton,
put on the black cap, and Sir Thomas Brazier, the sheriff,
standing at his side—he passed sentence of death, and
Mara says, firm enough, though his voice was not quite
stout, ' A long day, my lord.'—Not a word for a while
from the judge. He made Sir Thomas Brazier sit at his
side on the bench. You never saw in your life anything
like the court-house. A kind of unknown terror seemed
to be creeping in the dimness through people's hearts,
and the place was so silent that the whispering of the
judge and the sheriff, although the meaning of their words
could not be made out, could be heard—we all heard it
through the whole court. At last the judge speaks up,
! and speaks to the prisoners. They were to be taken from
1 the dock to the prison, where their bolts were to be
stricken off, and they were to be taken thence without a
pause to the place of execution, where they were to die.
Oh ! sir, death is dreadful enough in its mildest form—
but such a form as that. If there was terror in the si-
lence of the court, what was it to the shout of horror when
this terrible sentence was given. But Brazier was ready.
for every thing. He had sixty liverymen that year; he
had all the constables, such as they were, of the county.
They took off the men from the dock, in a faint, and be-
fore an hour they were dead. To be sure they were des-
perate villains, highwaymen, and murderers : and this I
must say, the gang they commanded has disappeared from
the country ; but all wont do for Brazier. If he was to
live as long as his grandfather, who followed the hounds
when he was eighty-six years of age, and_ lived to an hun.
dred, that one night would never be forgotten or forgiven
to him.—The Nevillee of Garrelelown, in Dublin Uni-
versity Magazine.

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.