The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1843-11-28 00:00:00

SELECTIONS.

OrrAn OF ROSES.—This perfume is said to have been
discovered by accident. Nur-laham. the favourite wife
of the Mogul, among her other luxuries, had a small canal
of rose-water ; as she was walking with the Mogul upon
its banks, they perceived a thin film upon the water—it
wzs an essential oil made by the heat of the sun. They
were delighted with its exquisite odour, and means were
immediately taken for preparing by art a substance like
that which had been thus fortuitously produced.—
Southey's Omniana.

POLITTCS VERSUS POETRY.—Telemachus was univer-
sally read and admired in France, not so much on account
of the political images and the fine imitations of Homer
which it contained, but for the many artful and satirical
allusions to the profligate court of Louis the Fourteenth,
scattered up and down the work. He that treats of fa-
shionable follies and the topics of the day, that describes
present persons and recent events, as Dryden did in his
Absalom and Achitophel, finds many readers whose un-
derstandings and whose passions he gratifies, and who love
politics far more than poetry.—Warton's Life. of Pope.

STATISTICS OF A BEE-HIVE.—The " masses" of every
hive consist of two kinds of bees, the workers and the
drones. The fist are undeveloped females ; the second
are the males. Over these presides the mother of the
hive, the queen-bee. The number of workers in a strong
hive is above 15,000, and of drones, about one to ten of
these. This proportion, though seldom exact, is never
very much exceeded, or fallen short of. A single family,
where swarming is prevented, will sometimes amount,
according to Dr. Bevan, to 50,000 or 60,000. In their
wild state, if we may credit the quantity of honey said to
be found, they must sometimes greatly exceed this num-
ber.—Quarterly Review.

OLDEN TIME.—In 1331 the price of labour was regu-
lated in this country by parliament ; and it is remarkable
that " corn weeders and hay makers, without meat, drink,
or other courtesy demanded," were to have one penny
per day ! In 1314, the pay of a chaplain to the Scotch
bishops, who were then prisoners in England, was three-
halfpence per day. Although wages were so low, things
at that time were so cheap that 24 eggs were sold for a
penny ; a pair of shoes for fourpence ; a fat goose for two-
pence halfpenny ; !L hen for a penny ; eight bushels of
wheat for two shillings ; and a fat ox for six-and-eight-
pence. In 1336, wheat per quarter two shillings ; a fat
sheep sixpence ; a fat goose twopence ; and a pig one
penny.—Fleeltrood's Cheonicon Precios.

MASSACRE OF ST. BARTotomEw.--Gaspard de
Saulx de Tavannes, Marechal orFrance, in the night of
St. Bartholomew, ran through the streets of Paris, cry-
ing, " Let blood, let blood ; bleeding is as good in the
month of August as in May." His son, who has written
his memoirs, relates that his father, being on his death-
bed, made a general confession of the sins of his life ;
after which his confessor, saying to him, with an air of
astonishment, "why, you speak not a word of St. Bar.
tholomew."—" I look upon that," replied the dying
Marechal, " as a meritorious action, which ought to atone
for all the sins I have committed."—Voitaire.
UNWITTING INJURY DONE TO TRADESMEN AND
OTHERS, BOTH BY HIGH AND Low.—The lady of rank
will sometimes detain her jeweller and dressmaker till
near midnight, in her drawing-room or hall, with as little
remorse as the wife of a labourer will be haggling with the
poor huckster at the same unseasonable hour; neither
party caring for the deprivation of domestic enjoyment,
and the neglect of social duties, of which both are unwit-
tingly the cause. Yet, both these classes, high and low,
are to be awakened to a sense of the wrong which is in-
flicted by the system of late hours. The highest and the
lowest are yet but human beings, and must be capable of
sympathising with their fellow-creatures, whether they be
much below or somewhat above them in the accident of
worldly station.—Hours of Business, by E. Flower.
THE BRIGHTISH ASSOCIATION.-Mr. Sappy read a
paper, proving the impossibility of being able to see into
the middle of next week, from known facts, with regard
to the equation of time. He stated that, supposing it pos-
sible for a person to ascend in a balloon sufficiently high
for his vision to embrace a distance of 700 miles from east
to west, he would then only see forty-minutes a-head of
him : that is, he would see places where the day was forty
minutes in advance of the day in which he lived. Thus
he might be said to see forty minutes into futurity. It has
also been proved that, in sailing round the world in one
direction, a day's reckoning is gained; so that the sailor,
on his return, finds himself to be " a man in advance of
his age" by one day. This one day, however, is the far-
thest attainable limit; and it is, therefore, impos-
sible to see into the middle of next week.—Q. E. D.—
Punch.

A COMEDIAN'S RUSE.-At the close of the Drury-lane
season, Elliston proceeded on an engagement to Dublin,
where he found his attraction by no means equal to his
expectations. In a letter to his wife, he says, " I was
tossed about for 26 hours. On leaving the coach at
Shrewsbury, being anxious immediately to proceed, I or-
dered a chaise, but was told they had no horses at the first
post house—at the second and third I received similar
answers. I was greatly distressed ; for it was a point
with me to reach Oswestry without delay. You will be
amused at my expedient. Summoning a diplomatic look
into my countenance, I demanded instantly to be con-
ducted to the mayor, declaring that I had despatches for
the Duke of Richmond ; and that, if horses were not im-
mediately supplied, the affair would come at once under
the consideration of the secretary of state. Show me to
the mayor !' said I. He is in bed, sir,' was the reply—
' seriously ill.' Then I shall be sure to find him at home
my business is as much of life and death as his own.
Show me to the mayor, or supply the horses.' My man-
ner and words bad the desired effect : horses were pro-
vided, and within twenty minutes I was off again."—The
Elliston Papers.
A LIFE OF DRUDGERY RENDERING A MAN INCAPA-
BLE OF REFINED ENJOYMENT.—A butcher, not a mile
from Temple Bar, made a large fortune, left his business
to his son, and retired into the country " to enjoy the re-
ward of his industry." A year passed ; he came to town
to visit his son, and " to see how the old trade was getting
on." He declared that he had been miserable ever since
he left business. Scarcely a day had passed before be was
in the shop, cutting, chopping, and selling meat. I myself
saw him—the retired oentleman !—with a tray upon his
shoulder, delivering a leg of mutton at the house of one of
my relatives. A day or two afterwards he insisted upon
his son allowing him to go over to the slaughter-house to
kill an ox ! He was aceable d' ennui—he wanted some-
thing for an after-dinner pastime—here was an amusement
according with his taste, and he availed himself of it.
The object of this man's life had been to make himself a
gentleman ; he had all the natural capabilities for refined
enjoyments; he had gained all the appurtenances to his
new. station which gold could purchase ; but habit had
rendered him in heart and soul—a butcher. He returned
to his country residence, where he relapsed into a state of
Bloomy despondency, and died very shortly afterwards.—
Hours of Business, by E. Flower.

A COMPARISON.--If Alexander and Archimedes,
evoked from their long sieep, were to contemplate with
minds calmed by removal from contemporaneous interests
the state of mankind in the present year, with what dif-
ferent feelings would they regard the influence of their
respective lives upon the existing human world of 1843 !
The Macedonian would find the empire, which it was the
labour of his life to aggrandize, frittered into particles,
modelled, remodelled, subject to various dynasties. *
* * In parts of the world which his living grasp had
not seized, he would see little to remind him of bis past
existence. Would not mortification darken the brow of
the resuscitated conqueror on discovering that when his
name was mentioned in historic annals, it was less as a
polar star to guide than as a beacon to be avoided ? What
would the Syracusan see in the present epoch to remind
him of himself? Would he see the man of 212 B.C. at
all connected with the men of 1843 A.D. ? Yes. In
Prussia, Austria, France, England, America, in every
city of every civilised nation, he would find the lever, the
pulley, the mirror, the specific gravimeter, the geometric
demonstration ; he would trace the influence of his mind
in the power-loom, the steam-engine, in the building of
the Royal Exchange, in the Great Britain steam-ship ; he
would find an application of his well-known invention the
subject of a patent, an important auxiliary to navigation.
Alexander was a hero ; Archimedes is one.—Blachwood's
Magazine.

LOUIS PHILIPPE AND THE SPANISH REVOLUTION-
isTs.—There is, however, a charge brought against Louis
Philippe with regard to Spain, and the commencement of
the Spanish revolution under Minna and Valdz in 1830,
which I will state broadly and fully, and meet, I hope,
with fairness and distinctness. The charge is this,—that
Louis Philippe encouraged by an advance of money, and
by assurances of protection, the early efforts of Mina and
Valdez, and of their supporters on the frontiers of Cata-
lonia, whieh had for their object to effect a revolution in
Spain ; and that afterwards, from some personal or pri-
vate motives, not only was all assistance stopped, but the
Spanish chiefs of the movement, when repulsed, were sent
into the interior of France, and treated with coldness, if
not with severity. That Louis Philippe determined on
alarming Ferdinand VII., the last king of Spain, into a
recognition by him of the government and throne of July
1830, is indubitable. Ferdinand had refused to recognise
either. This determination had rendered Louis Philippe
indignant ; and, as Mina and Valdez proposed to raise the
drapeau of revolt in the Basque provinces and on the
frontiers of Catalonia, they were unquestionably aided in
that proceeding by the French government and king.
When, however, Ferdinand VII. made the "amends hon-
orable," recognised the Orleans dynasty and the revolu-
tion of 1830, and professed a great desire to maintain the
most friendly relations with the King of the French,
Louis Philippe, of course, refused further aid to the
Spanish revolutionists, to whom he never gave, directly
or indirectly, any pledge or promise for additional support ;
and when they were defeated by the army of the Spanish
monarch, they were sent into the interior of France, and
placed under strict surveillance. I have often seen Valdez
and Mina. With the latter I was intimate. I believe
them both to have been honest, brave, but mistaken men.
I think their talents were greatly overated, and that their
plans were always ill- digested and absurd. But Ido not
believe that they have any real cause of complaint against
the King of the French. The Spanish king and govern-
ment had good cause, since Louis Philippe ought rather
to have marched a French array to the Spanish frontiers,
or even invaded the Peninsula, to have avenged himself
for the insult offered to his government and dynasty by
Ferdinand VII. ; and. in fact, should have resorted to
every possible measure for redress rather than have en-
couraged revolutionary projects got up by Spanish refu-
gees against their own government. I think, then, that
this was an unwise, inconsiderate, and culpable act ; and
the only excuse which can be offered for it was, that it
occurred in the very early days of the king's reign, and
when as yet all men were more or less affected by the
spirit of revolt which stalked abroad upon the earth.—
Fraser' s Magazine.

CONCEALMENT BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE.—
The first and most innocent step, says Mrs. Ellis, towards
falsehood, is concealment. Before our common acquaint-
ances there is wisdom in practising concealment to a con-
siderable extent ; but where the intimacy is so great, the
identity so close, as between a husband and a wife, con-
caalment becomes a sort of breach of faith ; and with par-
ties thus situated, the very act of concealment can only
be kept up by a series of artful endeavours to ward off
suspicion or observation of the thing concealed. Now,
when a husband discovers, as in all probability he will,
unless these endeavours are carried out to a very great
extent—when he discovers that his wife had been conceal-
ing one thing from him, he very naturally supposes that
she has concealed many more, and his suspicions will be
awakened in proportion. It will then be in vain to assure
him that your motive was good, that what you did was
only to spare him pain, or afford him pleasure; he will
feel that the very act is one which has set him apart in his
own house as a stranger, rrther than a guardian there—
an enemy, rather than a friend. Why, then, should you
begin with concealment? The answer, it is to be feared,
is but too familiar—" My husband is so unreasonable."
And here then we see again the great advantage of every-
thing you think or do. After concealment has become
i
habitual, there follows, n order to escape detection, a sys.
tern of false pretences, assumed appearances, and secret
schemes, as much at variance with the spirit of truth as
the most direct falsehood, and unquestionably as debasing
to the mind. But, as an almost inevitable consequence,
next follows falsehood itself; for what woman would
like her husband to know that she had, for days, months,
or years, been practising upon his credulity. If he disco-
vers what she has been concealing, he will also discover,
that often, when the subject was alluded to, she artfully
evaded his question by introducing another; that some-
times she so managed her voice as to convey one idea
while she expressed another, and that at other times she
absolutely looked a lie. No ; she cannot bear that he
should look back and see all this, lest he should despise
her ; and therefore, in some critical moment, when
into that trying situation in which she must either confess
all or deny, and she pronounces at last that fatal word
which effectually breaks asunder the spiritual bond of mar.
ried love. And now it is scarcely possible to imagine a
more melancholy situation than that of weak and helpless
woman, separated by falsehood from all true fellowship
human or divine; for there is no fellowship in falsehood.
The very soul of disunion might justly be said to be em-
bodied in a lie. It is, in fact, the sudden breaking asun.
der of that great chain which binds together all spiritual
influences ; and she who is guilty of falsehood must neces.
sarily be alone.