GEORGIAN WINE.
The chief production of Georgia is wine, which is of excellent quality, and so abundant in the countries situated between the Caspian and the Black Seas, that it would soon become a most important object of exportation, if the people could be induced to improve their methods of making and preserving it. At present the grapes are gathered and pressed without any care, and the process of fermentation is so unskilfully managed, that the wine rarely keeps till the following vintage. The skins of animals are the vessels in which it is kept. The hair is turned inwards, and the interior of the bag is thickly besmeared with asphaltum or mineral tar, which renders the vessel indeed perfectly sound, but imparts an abominable flavour to the wine, and even adds to its acescence. The Georgians have not yet learned to keep their wine in casks, without which it is vain to look for any improvements in its manufacture. Yet the mountains abound in the requisite materials, and only a few coopers are requisite to make the commencement. The consumption of wine in Georgia, and above all at Tiflis, is prodigiously great. From the prince to the peasant the ordinary ration of a Georgian, if we may believe M. Gamba, is one tonque, (equal to five bottles and a half of Bordeaux) per day. A tonque of the best wine, such as is drunk by persons of rank, costs about twenty sous; the inferior wines are sold for less than a sous per bottle.—Foreign Quar. Rev.
HISTORICAL FIDELITY.
The court historiographer of the Burmese, has recorded in the national chronicle his account of the war with the English to the following purport: —"In the years 1186 and 87, the Kula-pyu, or white strangers of the west, fastened a quarrel upon the Lord of the Golden Palace. They landed at Rangoon, took that place and Prome, and were permitted to advance as far as Yandabo; for the king, from motives of piety and regard to life, made no effort whatever to oppose them. The strangers had spent vast sums of money in their enterprise; and by the time they reached Yandabo, their resources were exhausted, and they were in great distress. They petitioned the king, who, in his clemency and generosity, sent them large sums of money to pay their expenses back, and ordered them out of the country."— Crawfurd's Embassy to Ava.
To quote a vulgar proverb, this is making the best of a bad job.
DRESS.
How far a man's clothes are or are not a part of himself, is more than I would take on myself to decide, without farther inquiry; though I lean altogether to the affirmative. The inhabitants of the South Sea Islands were astonished and alarmed when they, first saw the Europeans strip. Yet they would have been much more so, could they have entered into the notions prevalent in the civilized world on the subject of a wardrobe; could they have understood how much virtue lies inherent in a superfine broad cloth, how much respectability in a gilt button, how much sense in the tie of a cravat, how much amiability in the cut of a sleeve, how much merit of every sort in a Stultz and a Hoby. There are who pretend, and that with some plausibilty, that these things are but typical; that taste in dress is but the outward and visible sign of the frequentation of good company; and that propriety of exterior is but evidence of a general sense of the fitness of things. Yet if this were really the case, if there were nothing intrinsic in the relation of the clothes to the wearer, how could a good coat at once render a pickpocket respectable; or a clean shirt pass current, as it does, with police magistrates for a clean conscience. In England, a handsome toggery is a better defensive armour, than "helm and hauberk's twisted mail." While the seams are perfect, and the elbows do not appear through the cloth, the law cannot penetrate it. A gentleman, (that is to say, a man who can pay his tailor's bill,) is above suspicion; and benefit of clergy is nothing to the privilege and virtue of a handsome exterior. That the skin is nearer than the shirt, is a most false and mistaken idea. The smoothest skin in Christendom would not weigh with a jury like a cambric ruffle; and moreover, there is not a poor devil in town striving to keep up appearances in spite of fortune, who would not far rather tear his flesh than his unmentionables; which can only arise from their being so much more important a part of himself.—New Monthly Magazine.