CHOICE OF THE GREEKS.

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 7, Issue 335, 19 March 1863, Page 4

CHOICE OF THE GREEKS.

All that is heard both from and about Greece, and especially all that is to be learned from private sources as to the views and expectations of our public men, make it daily more plain that the country is about to be thrust, unexpectedly and unwillingly, into a position of very considerable difficnlcy. There is no denying that, among ourselves, a change of feeling as to the answer to be given to the coming invitation from Athens, has begun and is making rapid progress. At first, people were simply incredulous—it was likely that the Greeks, who have almost always during these twenty years spoken and acted despjitefully towards this country, would come here begging for a Prince. When the fact became plain that such a request was really about to be made, people got uneasy or alarmed—the arrangement might be a good enough, one for the acute and selfish Greeks, but it would involve this country in a connection bringing nothing but cost and danger. In a little, however, many among us began to feel flattered—the choice of the Greeks, it was seen was at all events a compliment to the national character, to the national institutions, and to the family of the Queen. And now, various symptoms show, not a few of us are beginning to grow acquiescent—-there may be, it is said, some risk in accepting, but is there not greater risk, as well as some churlishness, in refusing 1

A great deal depends on the temper in which an acceptance on behalf of Prince Alfred would be taken by certain foreign Governments ; and our information leads us to the belief that the French Government, which is the one chiefly to be considered, is as much perplexed as our own is, or will soon be. We are not ventu ring too far in saying that the French Government has already allowed it to be understood that it has itself no objection to the election of an English Prince—though its future policy in the question may have to be regulated a good deal by public feeling in France, and by the pourse of other Powers. Both of these influences may at once be set down as adverse to the realisation of the Greek wishes. The French public, always jealous of this country, and impressed with the idea that we are perpetually intriguing for our own interests and against “ the glory of France,’ 1 obstinately believe that the revolution at Athens was got up in London and for London purposes, and are indignant accordingly at the idea of the conspiracy'being allowed to succeed. Russia, the third of the three <£ Protecting Powers,” is, beyond doubt warmly opposed to the enthronement of a British Prince in a country where she has so long exercised an almost pai'amount influence j and she has made a formal request to France to join in a protest. In more than one view, we arc not bound to pay much attention to the. objection of those two Powers. * No ob-

jections can be founded upon any treaty or other stipulation now existing— : the only treaty among the Powers regarding Greece is that which gave the . Greek, thrope to King Otho and his heirs for> ever ; and, as nobody proposes to adhere to that, the whole matter is free from treaty involvements, and Prance and Bussia have no. position in the matter hut what is common to all the other Powers. Then, the motives of any objections that may be urged by France and Bussia, especially by the latter, are undeserving of respect—the French. Government would he acting only in subservience to a popular prejudice, and Bussia scarcely attempts to disguise that her motive is to get the tin-one for one of her > own Princes, whom the Greeks do not show the least desire to obtain.

But notwithstanding that our neighbours could not reasonably object nor justly take offence, it is for us gi’avely to consider whether it would be politic or wise to give them an opportunity even to take objections and offence without sonable cause. Whatever gains might be made or losses avoided by an English Prince being seated on the throne of Greece, a great loss would be incurred if other European Powers should thereby be induced to concentre upon us the dislike and jealousy they at present divide among each other—if those who are now rivals working against one another should be driven into amity—if, in Irish phrase, reconciliations should be made to break out among Powers between whom a little aversion is favourable to the interests of European peace and freedom. Again, there would bo reason to suspect dangers, even were the assent of the other Powers more or less frankly given. A hint of this may be gathered from the tone of an article appearing on Saturday in the Constitutionnel, which is a semiofficial organ, of the French Government —that journal makes no objections to Prince Alfred becoming King of Greece, but assumes as a consequence that' the Eastern question would then re-arise, more redoubtable and more complicated than ever,” and that France would be freed from engagements which now tie her hands in that quarter. This would seem as if the French Government u ere waiting to let an English Prince take Greece, in order to obtain an excuse for France taking something more valuable elsewhere. On the other hand, our private information is to the effect that the French Government is willing t,o join with the British in a treaty guaranteeing anew the independence of Greece within her present limits, whatever dynasty may be erected—an arrangement which would pretty well shut out pretences about the Eastern question having re-arisen.” Altogether, the question is full of perplexity, and not free from peril. At this moment, we believe, the almost ; unanimous desire among. those likely to have the chief influence in deciding Her iSilajesty to answer with acceptance or declinature, is strongly in favour of declinature, not only on the grounds of avoiding the giving of offence to our neighbours and bringing of responsibilities upon ourselves, but on the ground also that the youth and inexperience of the Prince almost forbid the hope of his being able, in. such a position, to do justice either to his subjects or himself. This indeed may be said to be chiefly the business of the Greeks, who have made or are making their choice with their eyes open—but then we must not have one of our Boyal Family brought into misery and discredit, out of which this countiy would certainly be expected to do something to keep or extricate him. What is likely to form the chief perplexity of our statesmen is their ignorance of the alternative: Suppose that the offer to Prince Alfred is refused, what is to follow?—who else.is to be chosen ?—and how would that other choice probably affect not only the Greeks, but Biitisli interests, which are the inter’ests of peace and progress. ?— Scotsman .

PRESIDENT DAVIS. It seems to me that half-an-hour in Richmond would satisfy the most rabid "Unionist of his own infatuation ; but if that half hour was passed in the society of President Davis, and any faith in the restoi'ation of the Union nominally survived, the only inference would be that the Unionist was either knave or fool. In a former letter from the North I expressed the opinion that Mr. Davis was the ablest living American ; that impression is more than confirmed by intercourse with him. The President is of those calm, firm, undemonstrative men, inclining to reticence, but, if interested, easily led on to animated conversation, who belong to a type which, strange to say, seems to abound in the South, and is at variance with the imputed impulsiveness of these children of the sun. In many interviews with Northern men of mark it lias never been my fortune to encounter one whose mind was not made in the same mould with that of his fellows, who had not travelled along the same macadamised road of learning along which, though pursuing it to different lengths, the 20,000,000 of the North undeviatingly advance. An interview with President Davis reveals to you an Aitierican with striking originality, whose mind has made its own road as it journeyed, who has thoughtfully profited by his own experiences, and . got beyond the set phrases and the primers which circumscribe vigour and reach of thought. Each word is slow, weighty, and luminous, the countenance and voice agreeable and convincing, the mouth one of the firmest that ever was set in mortal "head. ' The President looks spare and worn, but speaks oheerfully of his health. There is nothing to justify the repeated allegations of Northern papers that he his physically at his last gasp.— Timas Richmond Correspondent.

A VISIT TO THE CANADIAN OIL SPRINGS. By the time \ye reached Oil Spring village, the sun had set, and the short twilight wa& deepening into night. The inn which was a small one, was mostly occuby the workers at the springs. Many of them are proprietors or lessees as well as labourers. When the Oil was first discovered, the owner of the land parcelled it out into small lots. A gang of men —two or more—would get one of these lots into their possession, and. work it o.n. Speculation, living upon little till they reached the oil, and sometimes hiring themselves out from time to tripe in order to pay their way. They were a rough set—-rougher, many of them, in appearance than in manner. S.trong-looking fellows they were—broad-chested and bearded, and with hands blackened with oil. I amused myself for the rest of the evening by watching them as they lounged about the Jbar-room or before the door talking in all manner of dialects, from brtiad Yorkshire to nasal American. Tne landlord showed me to a room where sundry crevices in the ill-constructed frame house helped to let in the earliest daylight as well as the universal smell of oil, and through which the loud chirp of the field-cricket might be from the trees which grew “ convenient.” But this was not all. There were two beds in the room, and the other bed was already occupied. The house was quite lull, however, so I had no choice of accommodation. Presently the door opened and in came a third man. This turned out to be the doctor on a visit to my companion, who, I now noticed, looked seriously unwell. 1 thought I had better not ask, in the meantime, what ailed him and so went to rest, and slept soundly till morning. In the moi’ning I was told that the man was “ down with the fever ” —the bilious fever, which, iu Upper Canada, always invariably assumes a typhoid form. Another man, who had died of this fever, was even then lying in the house. He had been a scamp, who had left his wife and family. He refused to believe that he was seriously ill and took no remedies. The doctor told him, roughly, but perhaps not unkindly, that unless he took medicines, he. would die and go to hell. The man persisted in his refusal, and died accordingly. After breakfast, in company wich others, I attended his funeral. The rude procession had not far to go. We turned off from the main street into a small buryingground, where the stumps of trees were still standing. The Coffin was placed near the open grave, while the burial service was being read by one of the friends of the deceas ed. The rest of us stood round uncovered, yet with caps and wideawakes raised so as to protect the head from the warm rays of the sun. It was curious to stand in that out-of-the-way place, listening to the sublime words of the service. , But it must have been more curious still, to one not educated in the Church of England, to. hear the thanksgiving offered over the grave of one who had died so doubtfully—“ We give Thee hearty thanks, for that it hath pleased Thee to deliver this our brother out of the miseries of this sinful world.”

By this time I had seen something of the village. It consists of two to three hundred wooden houses or cabins, scattered over a considerable tract of clayey soil. Every proprietor or lessee builds on his own piece of land, and it is only in theory that anything like a continuous street exists. Still, like other Canadian villages, the plan of a whole town has been laid out. Openings in the forest, where the trees have been cut down, and nothing more, are known by the names of Victoria Street, Wellington Street, and the like. Indeed, the most extravagant expectations are entertained of the future growth of the village* I was' assured that in ten years, when the country round is cleared ana settled, and the trade with Europe increases, the village will have become a city larger than Toronto. In anticipation of its greatness, a newspaper.has abeen started. The. prices of land have risen greatly, and though of late they have fallen to some extent they will no doubt rise again. The'oil wells are of two kinds—surface wells, as 4 they are called, and flowing wells. Surface wells are most easily formed. A pit is dug to the depth of about fifty feet, where the rock commences. The wet clay of the whole district is so completely saturated with oil that it gradually finds its way into the pit. . When the pit is full there are, perhaps ten or twelve feet of oil floating on.the surface, the rest water. The oil is pumped into tanks, the water pumped out, and the pit left to fill again. The flowing wells demand more labour. Below the superficial drift, which contains a quantity of bituminous shalewith the formation of the oil—there lie Devonian marls, and below these again the limestone, from which the oil really pi’oceeds. In many places the oil may have welled up through natural rifts in the limestone, and under such, conditions it is, of course, moie easily got at. But, at least in the Enniskillen Oil Springs, it is more frequently found only after boring the limestone itself; and there have been so many instances of its having been found elsewhere in smaller quantities in a state of isolation in the limestone, as to preclude the idea of its having been introduced from without. Generally, it is found at a depth of two to three hundred feet from the surface. The process of boring is very simple. Iron rods are fastened together, and, by being lifted and let fall again, either by manual labour or by a small engine acting on a lever, gradually bore through the rock by their own weight. When a vein is tapped, the oil rushes up in a column with great force sometimes to the height of twenty feet, subsiding to two or three feet. Large quantities have been lost before the

workers have been able to control the oil., It is capricious in its flow, sometimes greater in volqme and sometimes less, at times disappearing almost entirely, and again returning. It is thought that workers on adjoining pieces of ground sometilqes tap the same vein, and tlius exhaust it the sooner. When the spontaneous supply fails, pumping is had resort to, or the rock is bored more deeply. It is a question of much importance whether the increasing number of wells will ip time exhaust the supply. If, it .be true that the oil has been formed oh the spot, and not replenished from a distance, it woxild seem to stand to reason that the supply is by no means inexhaustible. Experience too., tends to confirm this view. Horn long, the vast deposits will continue to repay the toil of the labourer, is a question which time can only enable us to* settle. In the meanwhile, at least, the quantity of oil is so great that it is extremely difficult to dispose of it. Everywhere there is oil. The trenches by the side of the road contain abundance of it, black and and odorous. The Black Creek—fitly so called, for it is as; black as Styx and as sullen ip flow—appears to have a surface of several inches of oil. Here, at least, is a stream which might be set on fire by the application of a lucifer match. The unwary geese who venture upon it emerge black and shining, looking like a new variety of goose. Where a large Volume of oil has gushed forth from, a well I have seen even the stems of the trees blackened with it for two or* three .feet from the ground, over a considerable surface. ffrom one well which I visited, the oil rushed with very great violence from a pipe of two inches diameter. It; was said that a quantity sufficient to fill eighty; barrels could be drawn off in five-ahd-twenty minutes. When not allowed to flow, the oil came welling up by the side of the . pipe, and gradually filled a tank which had been prepared for* it. One would have expected to find more machinery, more human contrivance! ; but nature has done almost everything. She is so prodigal of her stores that she leaves little room .tor ingenuity in the acquisition of her only treasure. .

The smell of the oil is to many extremely unpleasant. It is certainly very strong and penetrating. A vessel passing down the St. Lawrence with a load of petroleum scents the air for miles. Even a railway train bearing the oil offends the nostrils as it whizzes past. The visitor to Canada is aware of it at Quebec, or on the wharves of Montreal and Toronto. Wyoming Station is nearly as bad as the oil springs themselves. Still . there is nothing particularly nauseous about the smell, and one gets accustomed to it as to other things. It is possible, too, that there may be nothing unhealthy about it, as oils in general, are known to be very healthy. Once indeed, in the very centre of the springs, I felt my nostrils slightly contracted by the gas. And when a vein is struck, the men are at times almost Overpowered by the gasses which immediately escape. . But. in general, I was told the men are extremely healthy, notwithstanding the uncleared nature of the district, and the amount of moisture sheltered by the woods. Still, the disagreable smell is one reason why it is better that refiners should be -established close to the source of supply than at a distance. At the same time, it is necessary that every refineries should have a reliable standard. Badly refined oil is nearly as disagreable, and as dangerous to boot, as the crude matei'ial.

There are several refiners at the springs as well as elsewhere thr-oughout Canada. From the want of capital, probably, these are generally on a small scale, and there is room for many moi'e. The process of refining is simple. In the first place, the oil is conducted into large boilers, and subjected to distillation. The naphtha, being the most inflammable and volatile part, passes first through the worm, and is di'awn off. At the wells this naphtha is known Indifferently by the names benzoine and benzole. as at a refinery which I visited at Erie, Pennsylvania, it is used as fuel for the boilers. Next passes off a light colourless oil,-which retains a slight admixture of naphtha. Third in order is the amber-tinted fluid, which makes the best oil for burning. Last of all is a thick, heavy oil, chiefly used lor lubricating. .After distillation the oil is washed by being violently agitated, first with water and then with sulphuric and other acids. Previous to being barrelled, it is allowed to settle in large vats. The business muse be sufficiently profitable. At the time of my visit, the oil in its crude state was worth half a dollar, or about two shillings a barrel ; when refined, it was worth as much as ten dollars.

Waiters. —l could wish here to offer a few respectful words on behalf of the calling so long the calling of myself and family, and the public interest in which is but too often very limited. We are not generally understood. No, we are not. Allowance enough is not made for us. For, say that we ever suffer a little drooping listlessness of spirits, or what may be termed indifference or apathy. Put it to yourself, what would your own state of mind be, if you were one of an enormous family every member of which except you was always greedy, and in a, hurry ? Put it to yourself that you was regularly replete with animal food at the slack hours of one in the day and again at nine P. M., and that the repleter you was, the more voracious your fellow-crea-tures come in. Put it to yourself that it was your business when your indigestion was well, on, to take a personal interest and sympathy in a hundred gentlemen fresh and fresh (say, for the sake of argument, only a hundred), whose paginations was given up to grease and fat and gravy and .melted butter, and abandoned to, questioning you about cuts of this, and

and dishes of that—each of ’em going oft as if him and you and the hill of fare was alone in the world. Then look what you are expected to know. You are never out, but they seem to think you regularly attend everywhere. “What’s this, Christopher, that I hear about the smashed excursion train ? ” —“How are they doing at the Italian Opera, Christopher ?” “ Christopher, what are the real particulars of this business at the. Yorkshire Bank ?’ £ Similarly, a Ministry gives me more fro.uble than it gives - the Queen. As to Lord Palmerston, the constant and wearing connection into which I have been brought witb 'hiis Dqrdshil) during the last few years is deserving of a' pension. Then look at the hypocrites we are made, ' and the lies (white I hope) that are forced upon us. 1 Why must a sedentary waiter be considered to be a judge of horse flesh, apd to have a most tremenjous interest in horse traffic and racing I Yet 'it would be half our little income out of our pockets if we did’nt take on to have these sporting tastes. It is the same (inconceivable why E) with farming, ; Shooting equally, so. Xam sure that as regular as the months of August,' September, and October come round* I am ashamed ©df myself in my own private bosom for the' wpy in which I make believe to care whether the grouse is strong on the wing (much their wings or drumsticks either signifies to me, uncooked f), and whether the partridges is plentiful among the turnips, .and whether the pheasants is shy, or bold, or anything else you please io. mention. Yet you may see me, or any other waiter of my standing, holding on by the back of the box and leaning over a gentleman with his purse out- and his bill before him, discussing these pointsin a confidential tone of voice, as if my happiness in life entirely depended op ’em.— All the Year Round, Christmas No.

The French in Polynesia. —-A communication from the: Navigators’ r Islands 1-rings us important information. The French appear to be trying to obtain possession of these islands, as they have already done of Tahiti and its , dependencies. A war is threatened,it seems, between Samoa, and Tonga and a French man-of war came to anchor in the bay, while the chiefs, instigated by the French priests settled on the island, debated the question whether they would put themselves under French protection. The answer, however, was a decided negative ; they would defend themselves ; they did not want French help. A:more subside request was preferred—for, liberty to ho&l the French flag on the island. But tl&Ss excited the indignation even of the native adherents of Franee, and the' intrigues of the priests were completely foiled. But if France have really- set her eye on the island, we fear she will find an excuse,— Evangelical Christendom New Gunpowder. —The basis of Uda material consists of the flour of starch, which, boiled in a peculiar way with nitric acid, possesses far greater projective force than the -gunpowder now ha. ordinary use. It has, also, the great advantage of not fouling the piece to any appreciable extent, and, from the - nature of the materials used, is produced at. a far cheaper rate. Another point in its composition which recommends it especially for fortresses and magazines,, is the facility with which the ingredients are mixed together, thus rendering it possible to keep them separate until- wanted for actual use. In this state the powder is not explosive. The experiments now in course of progress in Vienna aud Berlin are said to leave little doubt as to its general adoption in the Austrian and Prussian armies. —Scientific Paper. "An anonymous letter is a mode of moral murder, which, using only a pen for a poniard* and an inkstand for a bawl, poisons confidence, and stabs character without fear of detection.