The Northern Daily Times.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1856-12-26 00:00:00

A CALENDAR OF FIRESIDE SAINTS.

(From Punch's Almanac.)
ST. BETSY.—St. Betsy was wedded to a knight who
sailed with Raleigh and brought home tobacco, and the
knight smoked. But he thought that St. Betsy, like other
fine ladies of the Court, would fain that he should smoke
out of doors, nor taint with 'bacco smoke the tapestry.
Whereupon the Knight would seek his garden, his orchard,
and in any weather smoke sub Jove. Now, it chanced as
the knight smoked, St. Betsy came to him and said, " My
Lord, pray ye, come into the house ;" and the knight went
with St. Betsy, who took him into a newly-cedared room
and said, " I pray, my Lord, henceforth smoke here, for,
is it not a shame that you, who are the foundation and
prop of yonr house, should have no place to put your head
into and smoke ?" And St. Betsy led him to a chair, and,
with her own fingers, filled him a pipe ; and from that
time the knight sat in the cedar-chamber and smoked his
weed.

ST. PIIILLIS.—St. Phillis was a virgin of noble parent-
age, but withal as simple as any shepherdess of curds and
cream. She married a wealthy lord and had much pin
money, but when other ladies wore diamonds and pearls,
St. Phillis only wore a red and white rose in her hair.
Yet her pin money bought the best of jewellery in the
happy eyes of the poor about her. St. Phillis was
rewarded. She lived until four score, and still carried the
red and white rose in her face, and left their fragrance in
her memory. kl
ST. NOR AM.—St. Norah was a poor girl, and came to
England to service. Sweet tempered and gentle, she
seemed to love everything she spoke to ; and she prayed
to St. Patrick that he would give her a good gift that
would make her not proud but useful; and St. Patrick
out of his own head taught St. Norah how to boil a potato.
A sad thing. and to be lamented :that the secret has come
down to so few.

ST. PHCEBE. St. Phos,)e was married early to a wilful
but withal a good hearted husband, He was a merchant,
and would come home sour and sullen from 'Change.
Whereupen, after much pondering, St. Phrebe in her
patience set. to work, and praying the while made of dyed
lamb's wool a door mat. And it chanced from that time,
that never did the husband touch that mat, that it did'nt
clean his temper with his shoes, and he sat down by his
Phcebe as mild as the lamb whose wool he had trod upon.
Thus gentleness may make miraculous door mats !
ST SALLY.—St. Sally, from her childhood, was known
for her innermost love of truth. It was said of her that
her heart was in a crystal shrine, and all the world might
see it. Now once when other women denied, or strove to
hide, their age, St. Sally said, " I am fine-and thirty !"
Whereupon, next birthday, St. Sally s husband, at a feast
of all their frienrlQ, gave her a necklace of six-anal-thirty
opal beads ; and on every birthday added a bead until
the beads mounted fourscore-and-one. And the beads
seemed to act as a charm ; for St. Sally, wearing the
sum of her age about her neck, age never appeared in
her face. Such, in the olden time, was the reward of
simplicity and truth.
ST. LILY.—St. Lily was the wife of a poor man, who
tried to support his family, and the children were many,
by writing books. But in those days it was not as easy for
a man to find a publisher as to say his Paternoster. Many
were the books that were written by the husband of St.
Lily, but to every book St. Lily gave at least two babes.
However, blithe as the cricket was the spirit that ruled
about the hearth of St. Lily. And how she helped her
helpmate ! She smiled sunbeams into his inkbottle, and
turned his goose pen to the quill of a dove! She made the
paper he wrote on as white as h9r name and as fragrant
as her soul. And when folks wondered how St. Lily
managed so lightly with fortune's troubles, she always
answered that she never heeded them, for—That troubles
were like babies, and only grew the bigger by nursing. rt 4
ST. BECKY.—A very good man was St. Becky's husband,
but with his heart a little too much in his bottle. Port
wine—red port wine—was his delight, and his constant
cry was " bee's wing." Now, as he sat tipsy in his arbour
a wasp dropped into his glass, and the wasp was
swallowed, stinging the man inwardly. Doctors crowded,
and with much ado the man was saved. Now, St. Becky
nursed her husband tenderly to health, and upbraided him
not, but she said these words, and they reformed him :
" My dear, take wine, and bless your heart with it, but
wine in moderation; else never forget that the bee's wing
of to-day becomes the wasp's sting of to-morrow."

Sir Edward Dering, one of the members for East Kent,
has issued an address to his constituents, in which he says,
" It is with feelings of sincere regret that I have to inform
you that the state of my health will prevent me from
attending to my parliamentary ditties during the early part
of the approaching session. My medical advisers have
recommended me to seek a warmer climate until the cold
winds of spring have passed away, and I am. therefore, on
the print of embarking for Egypt." The Kentish Gazette,
adverting to this address, observes that " all those who have
lately seen Sir Edward, have been struck by his altered
appearance. He is suffering from an attack in the windpipe
and throat, and his medical men recommend his visiting
a warmer climate until the spring. One of Sir Edward's
friends will accompany him, and we are quite sure the
electors of East Kent will readily accept the apology he
offers for his temporary absence from his parliamentary
duties, and will rejoice to see him return with renewed
health and strength."
THE FAIR Sax AND THEIR DIET.—We are not of the
number of those who think that the fair sex ought to
subsist, like Paris, upon odours and dew. We like to see
the blushing maiden beside us exhibit a certain degree of
friandise, and show a healthful appetite, corresponding to
the brilliant colour of her cheeks. It is a mere delusion to
suppose that a ball or soiree affords the best opportunity
of making love. An adroit cavalier will make more
impression upon the virgin heart, between soup and dessert
than he can hope to effect in fifty plunging polkas. We
are a dining nation; and, at a dinner, the finest qualities
of the heart and intellecttere instinctively exhibled. We do
not like to see a young lady ignore her food, or turn from
the proffered wing of chicken, albeit with an air of the
prettiest disgust. That always, to us at least, engenders sus-
picion of previous banquets—of surreptitious luncheons—of
forenoon indulgencies in cakes and hot jelly, it may be with
a flavour of maraschino. We see at once that there is a falsity
in our sweet neighbour's performance—that she is acting a
part deliberately studied and cofined, and we remember with
a shudder, the story in the " Arabian Nights," of the lady
who restricted herself to a few grains of rice at regulated
mealtime,,, in order that she might be properly appetised for
her hideous supper with the Ghouls. This is bad enough but
what shall we say of the undisguised voracious woman ? It is
frightful that such a thing should be ; yet, nevertheless,
we lie not when we assert its existence. Gluttony is not
altogether a male sin ;it can be found in the female. How
often have we beheld in the Park carriages rolling by,
containing enormous women, bursting with plethora, in
whose rubicund countenances the awful signs of habitual
hot luncheons appeared ! Aro they to be pitied ? Yes ;
but their husbands are more pitiable still. For we cannot
conceive anything more wretched and deplorable than the
case of a man who, after his day's work in the city or at
chambers, returns home with a freshened appetite, and seats
himself at table with a few friends whom he proposes hos-
pitably to entertain—when, opposite him, the partner of
his couch, the once slim and elegant Laura Matilda, sits in
mute obesity, her perceptions dulled by satiety, and a sullen
scorn upon her heavy lip—when Brown, and Jones, and
Smith, the dearest friends of his soul, vainly assail her with
Threadneedle jokes, and the last pungencies of the Ex-
change—when even Bosh, the wit of the club, who has
been known to extort a grin from a red-tapist, attempts his
fascinations in vain I.—Blackwood's Magazine.

NAVIGATION.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE NORTHERN TIMES.

Sir,—l beg leave to forward to you a solution to the
Navigation Question which appeared in yesterday's im-
pression of your paper.—Yours, &c.,
EDWARD HomERSHAW, 74, Paradise-street.
Liverpool, Dec. 18, 1856.
A In the spherical triangle AB C give the
5C 3(l° two sides of A B and BC, and the angle
:B 1404951 AB C. To find_angle BA G, equal differ-
/2. ence longitude and side A C equal co.
'6.21 c latitude in

Co. Lat 30.00. 0
Distance . 11.56.21

5um........... 41.56.21 = 20.1/8.10
D fference....lB. 3.39 J = 9. 1.49

20.58.10 Sect 0 029759 Co. Sec.... 0.446275
9. 1.40 Co. 5ine..9.994584 Sine 9 195779
70.24.55 Co. Tan.. 9.551185 Co. Tan.... 9.531185

20.37.16 Tan 9 5755_8
8.52. 9

11.45. 7 = difference of longitude.
60

705.11 miles.
To flad Latitude in
11 45. 7 Co. Secant.. 0.691062
11.56.21 sme 9 315704
140.49.51 Sine 9 800450

Co. Lat.. 39.54.21 Sine 9 807216
9,-)

Lat. in.. 50. 5.39 Mer pf 5..... 3483.13
Lat. left 60.00. 0 Ater pt 5..... 4527

Difference let. 96.34 21

1043.87 mend. diff. lat.

594.33 miles.
To find the course and distance by " Mercator's" Sailing—
As H. diff. lat.-1043.87 3.018650 lAs radius.. ...... ....10.000000
Is to radius . iiioo Is to dill. lat. 594.33... 2.774027
So is dill. lon. 705.116.... 2.848261 So is sec. co. 34.2.17.. 10 081620
To lon. co. 34.2.17 = 9.82931 l I To distance 717.2 = 2.855647
Hence the course is S. 31.2.17 E., and the distance 717.2 miles.