The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1833-01-11 00:00:00

THE, LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

VA"RIETIES.

DISCOVERY IN THE PACIFIC.—A Captain Covel, commander
of an American merchantship, lately arrived in the United
States, mentions that, in latitude 40 30 N., longitude 168' 40,
he discovered a group of fourteen islands, not laid down on any
chart. They were all inhabited, and the natives spoke the
Spanish -Language.—Atitenauni.

A BATTLE-FIELD INCIDENT.—After they had left us, and my
battalion was still standing in front of the position last occn-
pied by our troops, all .having retired but ourselves, and it now
began to draw towards night, and we were preparing to move
off, an unfortunate French sergeant attracted our notice. Poor
fellow he had been shot in the small of the back, and (on our
surgeon examining him) pronounced to be mortally. He ap-
peared to be a man above forty, and apparently a veteran,
who had fought many a hard field; and was, I think, one of the
most respectable-looking men of his class that I haVe seen.
When he saw us preparing to leave him to his fate, the expres-
sion of his countenance became the most piteous and beseech-
ing imaginable.; imploring us in French not to leave him there
to perish. My heart bled for him; but, unhappily, we had no
means of removing him, had there even been a hope of his re-
covery. When he saw that his fate was inevitable, he crawled
in the 13est manner he was able to a broken amniunition,box,
and, raising himself on his knees, supported hby it, besought
that Being who never casts out the cry of the unfortunate, and
who, I sincerely hope, imparted to him that strength and com-
fort which his unhappy circumstances so greatly required. I
doubt not he was a sincere christian ; never shall I forget the
impression his unhappy fate made on my mind. To be left
in solitude and darkness on this blood-stained heath, with the
prospect of his own certain death before his eyes, and without
any to comfort him in his last agony, must indeed have been a
severe trial to his fortitude. Would to God I could have re-
lieved him! His case was not singular, it is true; but hone
ever presented itself to my view under such truly affecting cir-
cumstances as this unhappy veteran did.— Twenty-five years in
the Byte Bryade.

GLOOMY WEATHER.—To prevent the gloom and melancholy
proverbial to the season, the best thing is to defend the skin
from chill and damp by proper clothing, and to seize every
favourable glimpse of sunshine to be out of doors. The power
of electricity over the body is well known ; in fact, we can
never enjoy health nor comfort without a proper portion of it
in the system. When this portion is deficient, we feel languid,
heavy, and lowspirited, and we very foolishly pronounce a
libel on the blood, which is quite innocent, while we never
suspect the damp atmosphere for robbing us sf our electricity.
Yet so it is. In dry weather, whether it be warm, cold, or
frosty, we feel light and spirited; because dry air is a slow con-
ductor of electricity, and leaves us to enjoy its luxuries. In
moist or rainy weather, we fed oppressed and drowsy, because
all moisture greedily absorbs our electricity, which is the buoy-
ant cordial of the body. To remedy this inconvenience, we
have only to discover a good non-conductor of electricity to
prevent its escape from the body, and this we have in silk,
which is so excellent a non-conductor, that the thunderbolt or
the forked lightning itself could not pass through the thinnest
silk handkerchief, provided always that it be quite dry. Those,
therefore, who are apt to become low-spirited and listless in
damp weather, will find silk waistcoats, drawers and stockings,
the most powerful of all cordials.— Time's Telescope for 1833.

GROWTH AND AGE OF THE OLIVE AND ORANGE TREES.—
At the late meeting of the Helvetic Society of Naturalists, M.
de Kandolle read a memoir by Berthelot, on the growth and
age of several kinds of trees, in the vicinity of Nice, from which
we extract the subsequent remarks. "There is an olive tree at
Villefranche, in the environs of that town, the lowest extremity
of the trunk of which, next the surface, measures above thirty-
eight feet, and three feet and a half above the surface, nineteen
feet in circumference; one of its main branches is six and a
half in circumference, and the trunk itself eight and a half feet
high. This is both the oldest and largest olive tree in that part
of the country, and though fast decaying, retains much of its
stately appearance. The celebrated olive tree at Pescio, which
has hitherto been considered the most ancient in Italy, and is
stated by Maschettini to be seven hundred years old, is ranch
younger than this wonder of Nice. There are records now ex-
tant, which show, that, as far back as the year 1516, the latter
was accounted the oldest in those parts. In 1818, it bore up-
wards of two hundred pounds weight of oil; and, in earlier days
and good years, more than three hundred and fifty. The orange
tree is of so modern a date in Europe, that no certain maximum
of age can yet be assigned to it. It may, however, be gene-
rally observed of, that it attains to a great age, though its trunk
has scarcely ever been known to grow to auy considerable
height. In the celebrated orangerie, at Versailles, there is a
tree of this species, which was raised frOm seed sown in 1421,
and has at this moment every appearance of surviving for cen-
turies to come. There is another orange tree in the yard of the
Convent of St. Sabina, at Rome, which is said to have been
planted by St. Dominick, in the year 1200. It has never grown
to a greater height than thirty feet. In the neighbourhood of
Finale may be seen another eight and twenty feet high, which
bears nearly 8000 in a single year. And there was one of the
kind existing in the neighbourhood of Nice, in 1789, the trunk
of which was so thick that two men could scarcely span it with
their arms; its age was unknown, but it was nearly fifty feet
high, and its foliage afforded shade to a table of forty covers.
One year with another, it bore between five and six thousand
oranges, and this immense produce was confined to one half of
its crown; the other yielding scarcely one hundred; it is re-
markable that, in the following year, the latter bore a crop of
thousands of fruit, whilst the former was almost barren of pro-
duce. This noble tree perished under the effects of the severe
frost of 1789.—Athemeunt.

COOKERY.—There is -a very general idea abroad, that the
French are peculiarly artificial in their preparation of meats
for the palate, and that the,English taste is distinguished by its
simplicity. In this, as in so many other things, we apprehend
that the superficies alone is looked at. True, the Englishman
prides himself on his joint, and pretends, when he sits before
his mountain of flesh, that he is approaching to a state of
nature. But with how many conaiments is he not prepared to
savour his viand's ? has he not vinegars and sauces innume-
rable, mustard, pepper, salt, horse-radish, and other flavorous
pungencies, which, when joined to gravy rich and hot, altoge-
ther make up. a plat worthy of any continental epicure ! This
is called plaid living, simply because the cookery goes on in
the dining-room instead of the kitchen. A Frenchman takes
his dish as it pleases the chef de curiae to send it, and he
would as soon think of tampering with his coat as his meat,—
both tailor and cook are artistes, and each considered equal to
his business. In England a gentleman relies upon his servant,
a mere subordinate, for nothing but precise roasting and boil-
ing, and is himself in reality his own meat-preparer. England
expects every man to be his own cook. All that is trusted to
the kitchen is the application of heat. The composition of
flavours is- supposed not only an art above the Leonora of the
realms below, but to reqaire the test of each individual's-palate..
Thus it would seem that a general system of cookery serves
France, while the individuality in this country demands that
each Man should interfere in the composition of his own dish.
What is called sectsoiting is carried to an Oriental pitch at ail
English tables; while in France we are struck by the extreme
insipidity of their most elaborate chef d'irea t) es. 'What is
called rench cookery in this country is in fact truly English ;
;it is the table composition manufactured over the. kitchen
stoves, and owns no original in France, where they strive after
variety of flavours, but to the utter contempt of what an.alder-
man would esteem in the way of richness. Vegetable heat is
absent from every French work of Culinary art. There is a
story of a French cook leaving his English master because he
added salt to one of his preparations on its-appearing at table ;
deeming himself' an artiste probably of the first class, he was as
Much offended as a painter would be with an amateur purchaser
who newly tinted his 'skies. No English cook would be offended
to hear that her master had emptied all Lazenby's shop on
her choicest dish. This is but a trivial discussion, hut illus-
trates a favourite position of ours,—that national 'differences
consist more in words than things, and that any apparent dif-
ference in the forms of things arises from some material differ-
ence in the. resources of the country. Thus, continuing the
same train of illustration, in Loudon fish is boiled because we
have it fresh; in Paris it is stewed, in all forms, because the
distance from the coast presents it in a putrid shape to the Paris
market, and makes it unfit to be cooked in any other fashion.
For the same reason, animal food of all.kinds is stewed down
in that country, because from a deficiency in the breed of
cattle, and the art of grazing, it. is neither sufficiently fender
nor juicy' to be offered to the masticators without having pre-
viously.undergone one of the stages of digestion. The respect
entertained for French cookery in Englaudis the respect felt
for regular art above empiricism. In .England every man
quacks his plate ; in Prance the artist proceeds on a well un-
derstood system. The profession thus comes to be acknow-
ledged, and the art acquires a technology which gives it impor-
tance, and, to those who glory in hard words, affords an oppor-
tunity for a vain display. 'Though an individual epicure may
succeed on his own plate, by means of a variety of condiments,
in fabricating a delicious compound, he can neither offer it to
another nor give it a name ; the French artist, on the contrary,
when he has studied forth a new variety of palatable flavours,
ern offer it to a whole table, and sanctions and canonizes the
dish for ever by the imposition of a title. Here arc the ele-
ments of the apparent superiority of French cookery over
English.—New li,icnititly Magazine.

A VINEYARD DISTRICT ON THE BANKS OF THE

GARONNE.

(From "French Wines and Politics," by Miss Martineau.)
It was on kglorious afternoon in July 1788, that an English-
man, named Steele, landed on the banks of the Garonne, a few
miles south of
.Bordeaux, whence he had come up in a boat on
an excursion of part business, part pleasure. Steele was set-
tled as a factor at Bordeaux; and his business was to purchase
wines from the growers, ard ship them to his employers in
England. His occupation had brought him acquainted with
almost every vine-grower within fifty leagues of Bordeaux; and
in the case of one of these, Antoine Luyon, the acquaintance
had ripened into a friendship. Antoine was part owner of some
vineyards on the western bank of the Garonne, one of which
produced claret of a singularly fine quality,—too good to com-
mand an advantageous sale at Paris, where second and third-
rate wines are iu nearly equal esteem with the first. The pro-
duce of this small and rich vineyard was therefore set apart for
English sale, and had been 'bargained for by the house which
Steele represented, and the terms agreed upon for the vintage
of the five next seasons. Other vineyards belonging to the
same parties touched upon this peculiarly .favoured one; but
not alt the care and pains that could be taken availed to make
their produce better than second or third-rate. Their aspect
was a little more to the east and less to south; they were not so
perfectly sheltered behind ; and no art could temper their soil
to the exact point of perfection enjoyed by La Haute Favo-
rite, as this distinguished vineyard was called. Their produce
was, however, as valuable as that of most of the estates around,
and was in good esteem at Paris, where Antoine's partner, his
brother Charles, was settled as a wine-merchant; and where he
bestowed as much pains on the maturing of the stock in his cel-
lars as Antoine did on its first ripening in the form of grapes,
or their friend Steele on the processes of fining, racking, and.
„mixing, which were carried on at his employers' depot at Bor-
deaux. Much care and skill were required in all these depart-
ments of business, and the young men were exemplary in both,
pursuing their occupation as a matter of taste as well as of ne-
cessity. Steele watched the thermometer in his cellars as care-
fully as Antoine observed winds and clouds ; and their common
interest in the welfare of La Favorite quickened their friendship,
in one way among many, .by occasioning more frequent meet-
ings than they would otherwise have thought practicable. Many
a trip to Bordeaux did Antoine contrive, to ascertain the effects
of heat or cold on the wines in their third or fourth season • or
to give the alarm if he heard rumours of buildings being pulled
down or erected so near the premises as to have any influence
over the temperature within; and during the summer, Steele
was wont to go up the river on Saturdays, and spend the Sun-
day with his friend Antoine for the avowed purpose of paying
his devoirs to La Favorite. There was much to tempt him to
these excursions, if wine had made no part of his interest, for
a fairer territory than that through which the Garonne held its
course was seldom seen. There were harvests of a more pictu-
resque growth than even those which embellished the vineyards.
Interspersed with the meadows which sloped down to the river,
were groves of olives and forests of chestnuts; and in due sea-
son, the almond trees put forth their pink blossoms amidst the
dark shadows of the evergreen woods. Boats heavily laden
with the merchandise of the Levant, brought hither by means
of the grand Languedoc canal, passed down the blue and brim-
ming river, or returned, borne rapidly on the tide, and empty
of all but the boatmen in their red jackets, whose snatches of
sow" reached the shore on the fragrant breeze. The cottages
of tine peasantry were indeed few, and comfortless in appear-
ance,- but the chateaux of the gentry arose here and there, not
half buried in woods, like English mansions, but conspicuous
on terraces, and rendered in sonic degree imposing by the appli-
ances of art, which did not, however, in the eye of the English-
Man, compensate for the natural attractions which a fine taste
would have gathered round them. Even stone balustrades and
fountains, and artificial terraces, however, as long as they were
intermixed with corn-fields and olive groves, had charms for
one whose residence was commonly in the city; and in process of
time, lie began to contemplate the chateau of 'the Marquis de
Thou, which commanded the vicinity of Antoine's residence,
with something of the admiration, though with nothing of the
awe, with which it was regarded by the peasantry round.
Whether this admiration was increased or lessened by the
glimpses he occasionally obtained of its inhabitants, he could
himself have hardly determined. The first time he saw the Mar-
quis he was moved to laughter; but then the Marquis was alone
(except the laquais in his rear) sitting bolt upright on his horse,
with his enormous queue reaching down to the little skirts of
his coat, and his large light blue eyes and pursed-up mouth
giving a ludicrous mixture of vacancy and solemnity to his
countenance. But when the Marquis de Thou was seen pa-
rading the terrace with his beautiful daughter, the Lady Alice,
by his side, or following the SpOrts of the field with a train of
the noblesse, assembled iu all the grandeur of feudal array, he
who looked insignificant in his individuality 'gathered some
advantage from the grace or splendour around him. He was
regarded as the father andprotector of the fair creature who
seemed to tread on air within the vast circumference of her hoop,
and whose eyes shone forth from beneath her enormous head-
dress like glow-worms in a thicket; and again, the Marquis
was the host of the wealthy and the gay who held sway in the
land which was for dyer boasting its own likeness to Paradise :
so that, in time, the Marquis -became mixed up with his con-
nexions even in the mind of the Englishman; and instead of
laughing, Steele learned to uncover and bow low at the approach
of the great man, in the same manner as Antoine. if he had
known as much as the natives of the territory Of certain deeds
which were done and certain customs which were prevalent
there, his English heart might have forbidden his raising his
hand to his head in token of respect; but though he disliked
the French peasantry, he was not fully aware how many of
their bad qualities were directly attributable to the influence of
the order of which the Marquis de Thou was one of the re-
presentatives.
On the present occasion, Antoine awaited on the bank the
landing of his friend.
" Ah, ha !" cried the Frenchman, as soon as he could make
himself beard; "you look up into our blue sky with the same
adiniration as when you first saw it, four seasons ago. Well;
even Bordeaux has its smoke, and now and then a sea haze "
"So thick an one this morning," replied Steele, " that I
could have fancied myself in an English port."
" Do the captains foretel a change of wind ? " " inquired An-
toine. "I rather apprehend one; and it is a pity that Favorite
should risk losing a particle of her beauty. Come and see her,
—as bright as a May morning; as rich and mellow as an au-
tumn moon. It would grieve my soul if au unkind wind
should hurt her; but there are signs of a change."

MISERIES OF `WEALTH.—It is to have a subscription-paper
handed you every hour, and to be called a niggard if you once
refuse your natne.,-.-It to- have every college, infirmary, and
asylum make a run upon the bank of .your benevolence, and
then rail at the smallness of the dividend.—lt is to pay the
tailor for all his bad _customers, and compensate the tradesman
for what he loses by knavery or cxtravagance.—lt is either to
be married for money, or to have a wife always casting up the
sum total of the fortune she brought.—lt is to be invited to
drink poor wine, that you may give better in return.—lt is to
have gi cal er temptations than others in this world; and to find
the entrance to a better more difficult than to the rest of man-
kind.—The Mother's Story Book.

WHAT CAN BE THE MATTER ? OR A FEW MINUTES OF TH E
SIEGE OF BADAJOZ.-We waited till about ten o'clock, when
the fire first commenced from the castle upon the third division,
as they approached it; but the fire from thence did not appear
very heavy. Not long after it opened out at the breaches, and
was most awfully severe; indeed it was so heavy and so inces-
sant, that it appeared like one continued sheet of fire along the
ramparts near the breaches, and we could distinctly see the
faces of the French troops,. although' the distance was near a
mile. All sorts of arms, &c. were playing at ouce,—guns, mor-
tars, musketry, grenades, and shells thrown from the walls,
while every few minutes explosions from mines were taking
place. The firing, too, appeared tohave suchu, strange, death-
like sound, quite different from all I bad ever heard before.—
This was occasioned by the muzzles being pointed downwards
into the ditch, which gave the report au unusual and appalling
effect. This continued without a moment's cessation, or with-
out. any apparent advantage being gained by our struggling
' but awfully circumstanced comrades. Lord Wellington had
also taken his stand upon this hill, and appeared quite uneasy
at the troops appearinc, to make no progress, and often asked,
or, rather, repeated to himself, "What can be the matter?"—
The enemy had adopted an excellent plan to ascertain where
our columns were posted ; they threw an immense number of
light balls on all sides of the town, and
,when they found out
where there was a large body, a rocket was fired in the direc-
tion of where it stood, and instantly every gun, mortar, and
howitzer, not previously engaged, was turned in that direction,
and grievous was the destruction their shot made in the ranks
of these columns. Still our people at the breaches did not get
forward,- although we distinetly heard; with emotion, the bugles
of our division sounding the advance. His. lordship • seemed
now to lose.all patience, and aides.de-camp were sent to ascer,
tam the cause of the delay. They flew like lightning, while
the. whole rampart round the town seemed enveloped in one
flame of fire. Our brave but unsuccessful comrades were heard
cheering every now and then; but still the fire at the breaches
did not slacken. At length a despatch arrived from General
Picton, stating that he had established himself in the castle.—
This was cheering news to his lord Ship, who expressed very
' strongly' the gratitude he felt for that gallant general.— Twanti-
' fire „Years in the Rifle Brigade.