The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1853-11-15 00:00:00

VARIETIES.

A CONUNDRUM worse than the following we have met
with :—What wind would a hungry sailor wish for at sea ?
A wind that blows fowl and then chops.
COLD AND COUGH.—A most healing beverage is barley-
water, sweetened with honey, and acidulated with vinegar.
A wine glassful drunk two or three times a-day will soon
loosen the enemy's hold.
THE HUNGARIAN POET VOROSMARTY is occupied with
the translation into the Magyar dialect of all Shakspere's
dramas. King Lear is ready, Romeo and Juliet and
Richard' 11. will be soon. _ _ _

ALEXANDRE DUMAS, writing to a Paris journal, states
that between the 11th December 1851 and the 11th De-
cember 1852, he wrote as many as forty volumes, which
"comprise something like 120,000 lines, or 8,000,000 letters.
Such has been my year's work." _ _

CAourcllouc.:2Three millions five hundred thousand
lbs. of India rubber were imported into this country during
last year. The total value of the India rubber goods
manufactured in the United States is estimated at ten
millions annually.—American Courier.
FRANKLIN AND FRENClL—Franklin, when he was am-
bassador to France, being at a meeting of a literary society,
and not well under. tan ling the French when declaimed,
determined to a riaud when he saw a lady of his acquaint-
ance express sati: fiction. When they had ceased, a little
child, who understood the French, said to him—" But
grandpapa, you always applauded the loudest when they
were praising you." Franklin laughed heartily, and ex-
plained the matter.
CITY CIIILDREN.—Fanne Fern pities city children.
" Here comes a group of pale-faced city children on their
way to school. God bless the little unfortunates ! Their
little feet should be crushing the strawberries, ripe and
sweet, on some sunny hill-slope, where breath of new-mown
hay and clover-blossoms would give roses to their cheeks,
and strength and grace to their cramped and half-deve-
loped limbs. Poor little creatures ! they never saw a patch
of blue sky bigger than their satchels, or a blade of grass
that dared to grow without permission from the mayor,
aldermen, and common council. Poor little skeletons !
tricked out like the fashion-prints, and fed on diluted
skim-milk and big dictionaries, I pity you."
JAPAN CusroMs.—A very singular custom at the mar-
riage of the Japanese is, that the teeth of the bride are
made black by some corrosive liquid. The teeth remain
black ever after, and serve to show. that the woman is
married or a widow. Another circumstance is, at the
birth of every child, to plant a tree in the garden or court-
yard, which attains its full growth in as many years as a
man requires to be mature for the duties of marriage.
When he marries, the tree is cut down, and the wood is
made into chests and boxes to contain the clothes and
other things which are made for the new-married couple.
The Japanese may marry as often as they please ; mar-
riages with sisters are prohibited ; but they can marry
any other retAtive. _ .

A PROLIFIC AND LONG-LIVED RACE.—The Bathurst
were a prolific and long-lived race. Sir Benjamin Bathurst,
who died in 1704, left three sons and a daughter, of whom
the eldest son was the first earl, and the third the father
of the Bishop of Norwich. The four had amongst them a
hundred children • the bishop's father, by two wives, had
no fewer than thirty-six, the prelate himself being a
twenty-third child. The first Earl Bathurst lived to the
age of ninety-one, and retained his faculties, dying at last
in consequence of a fall. His nephew, the bishop, lived to
his ninety-third year, also retaining his faculties ; and,
what is perhaps more remarkable, his last illness was the
first which had ever compelled him to keep his bed.
_

AN AWKWARD STAGE FOR SIR RICHARD.—Sir Richard
Steele, at a time when he was much occupied with theatri-
cal affairs, built himself a pretty private theatre, and
before it was opened to his friends and guests, was anxious
to try whether .the hall was well adapted for hearing.
Accordingly, he placed himself in the most remote part of
the gallery, and begged the carpenter who had built the
house to speak from the stage. The man at first said that
he was unaccustomed to public speaking, and did not know
what to say to his honour; but the good-natured knight
called out to him to say whatever was uppermost ; and
after a moment the carpenter began, in a voice perfectly
audible—" Sir Richard Steele ! for three months past me
and my men have been a-working in this theatre, and
we've never seen the colour of your honour's money : we
will be very much obliged if you'll pay it directly, for un-
til you do, we don't drive in another nail." Sir Richard
said that his friend's elocution was perfect, but that he
didn't like his subject much.—Thackeray's English
Humorists.

POETS MILITANT.—We find the scholar-artizan (Ben
Johnson) in arms, and daring heroic deeds. He went
through one campaign in the Low Countries, and per-
formed an exploit better fitted for description in the pages
of Livy than in those of a literary biography. In the
sight of both armies, he engaged in single combat with
one of the enemy, slew him, stripped him of his arms, and
carried them away in triumph. This, at the age of
eighteen, was a warlike achievement of no mean kind, and
is enough to show that, whatever other fault his slan-
derers have attributed to him, he did not at auy rate lack
chivalrous courage. A poet militant is not without pre-
cedent. lEschylus fought at Salamis ; Horace ran away
at Philippi • Johnson's immediate successor, Davenant,
was knighted for his valour at the siege of Gloucester ;
and a later laureat, Colley Cibber, bore arms in the Revo-
lution of 1688. If "silent leges inter arms" be true, the
same remark will apply to letters. Though more con-
genial to his nature than the toils of the hod and trowel,
the profession he had adopted left Johnson no leisure for
the enjoyment of the "calm air of delightful studies."
Like Coleridge, in our own day, he soon laid aside the
sword for the pen. Both felt that with this weaker in-
strument their mission was to be worked out.—Lives of
the Laureates.

THE LOVE OP FISH AMONG THE ANCIENT ROMANS.—
Tho love of fish herome a real mania turbots excited a
furore of admiration—the mureena Helena was wor-
shipped. Hortensius, the orator, actually wept over the
death of the one he had fed with his own hands ; the
daughter of Drusus ornamented hers with golden rings ;
each had a name, and would come with speed when it
heard the voice of the master, whose happiness depended
on his fish. Sometimes, in a moment of over tenderness
for his dear murmna Helena, Vedius Pollio, a Roman
knight of the highest distinction, and one of the intimate
friends of the Emperor Augustus, could find nothing bet-
ter to do than to feed them with the flesh of his slaves,
who were thrown to them alive. It is true that these
wretched creatures generally deserved this terrible chas-
tisement ; for instance, Seneca speaks of one who had the
awkwardness to break a crystal vase, while waiting at
supper on the irascible Polio. This unfortunate slave,
having managed to escape from the hands of those who
were conducting him to this horrible death, he went and
fell on his knees at the feet of Caisar, whom he implored
to inflict some less frightful torture. Augustus, moved to
the very soul, granted him his liberty, had all of Vedius's
vases broken, and ordered that the pieces should be used
to fill up the reservoir in which the barbarous knight fed
his murcena Helena.—Soyer's Pantropheon.
BARON VON HIIMBOLDT.—In fulfilment of an appoint-
ment we went at once, and were admitted by his faithful
servant, the companion of many an arduous journey. His
mansion is a plain edifice, situated in a retired part of the
city ; and he would not have been now at home had not
the king gone to Konigsberg, for his residence is generally
with the king, at Potsdam, who keeps him near his per-
son, as his father did before him, not only for his society
and conversation, but, no doubt, also as a counsellor, wise
from his many years, and his large experience in the
world. We passed through his library, which fills, on all
sides, a room of considerable size ; and he issued from a
door on the remote side of the apartment, opening ap-
parently from his private room. He met us with great
kindness and perfect frankness, and with a pleasant re-
buke for my having hesitated to call on him, (I had
written a note, asking permission to call,) implying that
he was not ignorant of my position and efforts at home. I
then introduced my son and Mr. Brush, and we were at
once placed perfectly at our ease. His bright countenance
expresses great benevolence ; and, from the fountain of
his immense stores of knowledge, a stream, almost con-
stant, flowed for nearly an hour. He was not engrossing,
but yielded to our promptings, whenever we suggested an
inquiry, or alluded to any particular, for we did not wish
to occupy the time with our own remarks any further
than to draw him out. He has a perfect command of the
best English, and speaks the language quite agreeably.
There is no stateliness or reserve about him, and he is as
affable as if he had no claims to superiority. His voice is
exceedingly musical, and he is so animated and amiable
that you feel at once as if he were an old friend. His
person is not much above the middle size. He stoops a
little, but less than most men at the age of eighty-two.
He has no appearance of decrepitude; his eyes are brilliant,
his complexion light ; his features and person are round,
although not fat ; his hair thin and white ; his mind very
active, and his language brilliant and sparkling with bright
thoughts. We retired greatlygratified, and the more so, as a
man in his 83rd year might soon pass away. When we
were about leaving Berlin, I addressed a note to the baron,
expressing our great satisfaction at the interview, bidding
him farewell, and asking for his autograph. He readily
replied ; but instead of his signature merely, he sent an
interesting original letter, written on the occasion.—Pro-
fessor Silliman's Visit to Europe in 1851.
OUR LORD'S LOVE OF NATURE.—No one ever loved
nature with a purer, intenser love than the Saviour him-
self. We delight to contemplate this feature in the Sa-
viour's character; there is so much of childlike and pure
humanity about it. When he walked by the Sea of
Galilee, as he often did, and felt his jaded spirit soothed
by the refreshing sight of its clear waters, and the mu-
sical murmur of its waves—when he pointed his hearers
to the trooping ravens that hovered above him, or to the
lilies of the field that decked the sides of the mountain—or
when we follow him to the lone mountain, where he loved
to retire at the close of the day when his spirit was
wearied and broken down by the wickedness of his age—
we feel that we are in fellowship with one who, though
Divine, has the purest human sympathies ; and not the
least attractive and prominent of these is his intense love
of nature. His frequent walks by the seashore, and on
the quiet road, skirted with trees, leading from Jerusa-
lem to Bethany, his wanderings upon the mountains, and
all his many beautiful allusions to familiar but never-to-
be-forgotten objects in nature, bore witness to the ardent
love with which he looked upon the heavens above and the
green earth beneath. His spotless spirit was in harmony
with everything that was good, and beautiful, and true.
Hence some of his most striking and appropriate illustra-
tions were taken from the mountain flowers or from the
moorland birds, or from the varied forms of placid beauty
or towering grandeur which the scenery of Judea daily
brought before him. He loved the quiet, sequestered,
rural retreat. Has sympathies for man—and everything
that was human—were of the purest, the strongest,. and
the most enduring character; but he loved the solitude
and the calm of the mountain summit, or the woody slope,
or the margin of the murmuring brook, or the lone shore
of the lake, or the peaceful hamlet nestled in the forest
shade and sheltered by the towering hill, where there was
little or nothing to disturb the uniform processes of social
life. Hence we find him oftentimes on the mountain or
by the sea shore, or in the shady walk, or in the midst of
the fruitful corn-fields. His love of nature was intense,
but not by any means ascetic, not selfish—not leading
him to overlook the great interests of congregated masses
in the towns and cities of his country. He who was
thrilled with the beautiful landscape of mountain, lake,
richly-cultivated fields—where heart had
and valley, of
done its utmost, or where nature was left in all its wild ,
and native grandeur—that burst upon his view as he
deacended the elopes of Mount Olivet paused in deepest
anglat ofeirit to weep over the ;why city that lay at
its Ime.—The ,Bible and the Working Classes.