Glasgow Courier. — 1847-11-23 (Glasgow, Strathclyde, Scotland)

KINGSTON MARK ETS. (From De ('ordova's Mercantile Intelligeneer.) We have not any improvement to report in the state of business since our last issue of the 7th Inst. The advanced rates which have been obtained in a few trifling transactions are not indicative of a revival of a good demand on the part of the trade, but are consequent only on the very light stocks on hand, and the absolute necessity of purchasing for every-day consumption. The money market continues in the Caine stringent position, and has not been relieved in the slightest degree. hum is rather scarce; holders are asking 9s. 9d. per gallon. Eingnr.-Bales of some extent for consumption have been made at from lee. to 20s. per 100 lbs.  Pa"""" swa, ..gary• ,••••• •••,The patlrnt is unbound, lie is dead; the malefactor, redeemed unhoped from desperate strife, with swelling sinews and increased vigour, leaps through the window and pursues his accustomed avocatioas of robbery, bloodshed, and murder with renewed strength. the doctor (not forgetting his fee,) takes up his hat, bows to the audience, and all is over. Sixteen firms, my Lord, out of 48 leading houses. are, thanks to your Lordship, dismissed to their rest. I, my Lord, as one of the yet " rani navies itt gurgite vasto," whilst carried round and round that fat il whirlpool raised by your Lordship and your compeers, approaching in each circle nearer to that abyss which (let his resources or his credit be what they may. or his business be never [ so legitimate, must sooner or later swallow up every West India I merchant who continues to support the colonies, venture to ask your Lordship," Are you not yet satisfied?" You have had deputations from the city, from the outports, and will have from the colonies, all substantiating the one sad prospect of certain ruin. Your Lordship may not hear, though I do so, the " Qum ego" of the widows and orphans whom your Lordship and your colleagues liave reduced to misery and distress; it is true they cannot carry out the muttered threats, yet, methinks, its very utterance, must render your Lordship's pillow no bed of down. For whom and to whom has the vast sacrifices of British capital been made? For whose advantage has the whole commercial fabric been shaken to its base? Who stands by to watch the Troia vita undo*, and as the heeling vessel makes her last plunge, to seize the shattered fragments this ministerial-raised vortex may throw up? Is it not the man whom a few sessions past a British Parliament stigmatised as a pirate and a felon—the slave-trader? Pause, my Lord, pause, ere you are compelled to do so, over your ruined colonies and departed commerce. Sugar, by the mode pursued, you may have cheap for a short time, long you cannot, and what you do now have will be reeking I with the destruction of your own colonies; what you have in future, with the blood-bought ascendancy of those of your neighbours. Rely upon it, the present is but a lull between the storm, a breathing for yet more desperate strife, interlaced one with another, like the serrated sutures of the human skull. The East India houses ' cannot be torn apart without destruction. Another mail or two will renew the panic; the colonies of the country, and all connected with them, weakened already almost unto death, will reel and I fall; and your Lordship's compunctious, unless they visit you now, will be all too late.  Your obedient humble servant,