The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1854-05-09 00:00:00

Kidd's Own Journal. London : Groombridge.

Another number of this entertaining magazine
by no means diminishes the interest in the con-
tents, which are numerous and varied, and chiefly
devoted to developing the beauties of nature, which
are ever new, and more so in this delightful season
of spring. There is something refreshing in such
titles as " The Bright Side of Nature," " Season-
able Enjoyments," " Our Wild Flowers," " Notes
on the Hyacinth andllawthorn," "Birds," &c.,while
the prose is interspersed with numerous short pieces
of poetry of more than ordinary merit. Indeed,
such a repertory of natural history, natural philo-
sophy, popular science, and things in general, must
find many admirers, both in town and country.

Decimal Coinage.

London : Ridgway.

A pamphlet, by "one of the million," professing
to describe what decimal coinage ought, and what
it ought not to be. It would be waste of time to
discuss the many absurd arguments brought for-
ward to bolster up an impracticable theory, the
only possible advantage of which is to save mer-
chants' clerks a few minutes time in calculation.
The author recommends tfie substitution of a new
tenpenny piece for our long-established pound as
the unit, and the conversion of the shilling into
one and twopence. He quotes the celebrated ac-
tuary, De Morgan, who says :—" The pound is
more than a mere matter of arithmetic. There is
a great deal of political and moral association con-
nected with it. Under the phrases ' £5OO a year'
or £l,OOO a year,' we think of states of society.
To make a violent alteration would be such a nui-
sance and mischief as should only be encountered
for some great benefit ; and I see no benefit at all
in the change." Upon this the pamphleteer re-
marks :—" If this kind of sentimentality is to pre-
vail over common sense and sound argument, we
had better not have a decimal coinage at all."
This is the correct conclusion, and will, no doubt,
be the result of all the spasmodic labours of the
advocates of this abstract theory.

The People's Magazine. Nos. VI. and VII., for
March and April. London : Kent and Co.
_

From its cheapness and general excellence, this
is a periodical admirably adapted for dissemination
among the working classes. It is devoted .to the
diffusion of sound religious and political principles,
and the intention is judiciously carried out.

VARIETIES

A STATESMAN.—One master of a well-regulated house
is more beneficial to the state than a hundred political
declaimers.
MEEKNESS.—A boy was asked what meekness was. He
thought a moment, and said—" Meekness gives smooth
answers to rough questions."
To MAKE A YOUNG LADY HAPPY.—Give her two
canary birds, half a dozen moonbeams, twelve yards of
silk, an ice cream, several rosebuds, a squeeze of the• hand,
and the promise of a new bonnet. If she don't melt it will
be because she can't.
AN IRISHMAN, who was early one morning: busily
engaged in sweeping the shop of a cheesemonger; was
interrupted by a voice from an inner room, saying, Well,
what are you doing—are you sweeping out the shop ?"
" No (replied Pat), I am sweeping out the dirt, and leav-
ing the shop,"
THE REV. MR. JOHNSON was one of those rough but
quaint preachers of the former generation who were-fond
of visiting and good living.. While seated at the table of
a good lady in a neighbouring parish, she asked him if Ins-
took milk in his tea. " Yes, ma'am, when I can't get
cream," was the ready reply.
Oros lanooss or Pouxemess.—The following circum-
stance illustrates what Mrs. Trollope might be disposed to-
call " American manners." A man one day came to do
business with my father, and, as was the custom among
many in the region,- kept his head covered during his stay.
Soon after leaving the house, he remarked to some one
that Ice- had always heard that General M— was very
much of a gentleman, but he didn't think so, " for," said
he,. " I sat in his parlour half-an-hour or more, with my
hat on, and he never once asked me to take it off!
DENSITY OF POPULATION.—The 624 registration dis-
tricts of England and Wales,,classed in an order of density,
range from 185,751 persons to the square mile, in the east
London district, to 18 only in Northumberland. In all
London, the number of persons to-a square mile, in 1851,
was 19,375. In 1801, the people-of England were on an
average 153 yards assunder • in 1851, only 108 yards
asunder. The mean distance between their houses in 1801
was 362 yards ; in 1851, only 252, yards. In London, the
average proximity in 1801 was 21 yards; in 1851, only 14
yards.—Cheshire's Results of the- Census.
LORD.LINDSAY states that in the-course of his wander-
ings amid the pyramids of Egypt, hestumbled on a mummy
proved by its hieroglyphics to be 2,000 years of age. In
examining the mummy he found in one of its hands a
trobes or bulbous root, he took the root from the mummy's
hand and planted it in a sunny soil, allowed the rains and
dews, of heaven to descend upon it, and in the course of a
few weeks to his astonishment and Soy, the root burst forth
and bloomed into a beauteous dahlia.
THE BURIAL PLACES or OUR POETS.—It is not often.
that the grave of a poet's father is- recorded, and pointed
out to strangers. The poets themselves frequently rest
without any memorial of their burial, sometimes with no
remembrance of its place. Chaucer was buried in the
cloisters of Westminster Abbey, without the building, but
removed to the South aisle in 1555.; Spenser lies near him.
Beaumont, Drayton, Cowley, Denham, Dryden, Rowe, Ad-
dison, Prior, Congreve, Gay, Johnson, Sheridan, and Camp-
bell, all lie within. Westminster Abbey. Shakspere, as
every ones knows, was buried in the chancel of the church
at Stratford, where there- is a monument to his memory.
Chapman and Shirley are buriedin St. Giles's-in-the-fields ;
Marlowe, in the churchyard. of St. Paul's, Deptford;
Fletcher, and Messinger, in the churchyard of St. Saviour's
Southwark ; Dr. Donne, in. Old St. Paul's ; Edmund Wal-
ler, in Beaconsfield churchyard; Milton, in the churchyard
of St. Giles's, Cripplegate ; Butler, in the churchyard of
St. Paul's, Covent Garden • Otway, no one knows where'
Garth, in the church at Harrow ; Pope, in the church at
Twickenham ; Swift, in St. Patrick's, Dublin ; Savage in.
the churchyard of St.. Peter's, Bristol ; Parnell, at Chester,
where he died on his way to Dublin. Dr. Young, at
Welwyn, in Hertfordshire, of which place he was rector ;
Thomson, in the churchyard at Richmond, in Surry ; Col-
lins, in St. Andrew's Church, at Chichester; Gray in the
churchyard of Stoke Pogis, where he conceived his Elegy ;.
Goldsmith, in the churchyard of the Temple Church ;
Falconer, at sea, with " all ocean for his grave ; ' Churchill,
in the churchyard of St. Martin's, Dover Cowper, in the
church at Dereham ; Chatterton, in a churchyard belonging
to the parish of St. Andrew's, Holborn; Burns,. in. St.
Michael's churchyard, Dumfries ; Byron, in the church at
Hucknall, near Newstead ; Crabbe, at Trowbridge; Cole-
ridge, in the church at Highgate ; Sir Walter- Scott, in
Dryburgh Abbey ; Southey, in Grosthwaite church, near
Keswick ; Shelley, " beneath one of the antique. weed
grown towers surrounding ancient Rome ;" and Keats
beside him, " under the pyramid which is the tomb of
Cestius."—Barker's Three Days of Wensleydale.
THE PRESENT STYLE OE FEMALE DRESS..—We are
quite willing to allow that the present style of dress is
much more reasonable, and assimilates itself better to the
figure than any which has been in fashion for many years
past. Still there are some changes which, in our humble
opinion, might be made with advantage. For instance,
why should the ample skirts, which fall in such graceful
folds to the ground, be pulled or gathered in (we believe
those are the technical terms) in all their width round the
waist, instead of being gradually sloped upwards so as to
suit the figure ? We think M. Karr is right in saying,
that if any woman of taste, on undressing at night, was to
discover she was really formed as she appeared to be dur-
ing the day, she would be found next morning drowned in
tears. Why should not the long skirts, that certainly look
elegant in a drawing-room, be provided with means for
shortening them when out of doors? Could this be arranged
we should then be saved the discomfort of being enveloped
in a cloud of dust worse than a simoom, when walking by
the side of our fair companions, though we might, perhaps,
be sorry to loose the pretty wavy pattern their dresses
leave upon the pavement. We should be spared, too, all
painful doubts as to the love entertained by our ladies for
that quality which is akin to godliness, caused by seeing
them defy alike the consequences to themselves and others
of dust and mud, rather than avoid both, by lifting their
skirts an inch above the ground. As to the bonnets in
vogue we dare scarcely touch on them, though we will
venture to express the charitable hope that our ladies have
more in their heads than upon them at present.—Fraser
"CUTENESS" OF A YANKEE PAINTER.—A person who
kept an inn by the road side, went to a painter, who for a
time had set up his easel in a town not a hundred miles
from Lake Ontario, and enquired for what sum the painter
would paint him a bear for a sign-board. It was to be " a
real good one," that would attract customers. " Fifteen
dollars," replied the painter. " That's too much," said the
innkeeper • " Tom Larkins will do it for ten." The painter
cogitated for a moment. He did not like that his rival
should get a commission in preference to himself, although
, the painter. "With-
a
it was only for a sign-board. " Is it to be a wild or a tame
cbhaearin?:or he inquir A wild one to be sure." " With a
without one ?" again asked
paint you a wild bear without
a
The bargain was struck, the
painter
in due time sent home the sign-
hachain.i ' t
e o
r tent Well,wod work,
rol,
a I
and
ns w. 11,
sign-
board, on which he had painted a huge brown bear of a
and drew plenty of customers to
most ferocious aspect. The sign-board was the admiration
r knew not whether to congratu-
pe'the possession of so attractive a
ed it for -the small sum of ten
congratu-
late himign, self
the
enanihi v
theihob osntgiuniuffre
dollars. Time slipped on, his barrels were emptied, and
his pockets filled. Everything went on thrivingly for
three weeks, when one night there arose -one of those
violent storms of rain and wind, thunder and lightning,
which are so common in North America, and which pass
over with almost as much rapidity as they rise. When the
innkeeper awoke next morning, the sun was shining, the
birds singing, all traces of the storm had passed away. He
looked up anxiously to ascertain that his sign was safe.
There it was sure enough, swinging to and fro as usual,
but the bear had disappeared. The innkeeper couldhardly
believe his eyes; full of anger and surprise, he ran to the
painter and related what had happened. The painter
looked up coolly from his work. " Was it a wild bear or a
tame one ?" " A wild bear." " Was it chained or not ?"
" I guess not." " Then," cried the painter triumphantly,
" how could you expect a wild bear to remain in such a
storm as that of last night without a chain ?" 'Usp inn-
keeper had nothing to say against so conclusive El argu-
ment, and finally agreed to give the painter fifteen dollars
to paint him a wild bear with a chain, that would not take
painter had painted the first bear in
to the woods in the next storm. For the benefit of our
unprofessional readers, it may be necessary to mention
wshhich had been washed away b
wthaatterthceoloroursgui, the rain;
the second bear was painted in oil colours, and was there-
fore able to withstand the weatheT,--Pnrek of England
Quarterly Review.