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AXOAV. Switurlandp Canton of. 170 
Abeirromby. ttUacu (torn, S43. S48 
Aecumuluted alactricity. elTecla of, 194 
AfKhans. nccoont or th«. 1 
Afriea, sau(l-»ione« in. 61 
Afility of insects. 59 
Air. vrcetAtioD th« best means of im* 
NoTiog. 48 

eUsiicity of. 119. 148. 189 

— ^ sttnictiTe force of a blast of, S19 
Alligator and cxoeodUe, differenee be- 
tween. 144 
ABcrtca. celebration of the 4ih of July 

in. 118 
Ancient C.;hnrclies, accidents io. 214 

Egyptians. 8i4 

~-^— ami modern worlu. 139 
Andersoo. J. 8. M.. extract from. S40 
AndeSk mmle of trsrelling in. 250 
ABf^r. dificnltv of concealing. S43 
Animals and Vegetables^ sttiking le- 
kemblancea Itetween, 149 

feet of. 178 

' exhibitions of trained* 157 
Auimatrd beings. 155 
Ankarstrom, execution of. 8S3 
Antiparus. grutto of. 174 
Antiquity of locks and keys, 132 
Ants. contriTances of. Ill 
Arcberv. early practice of. 94 
Ashmole. Elias, biography of. 173 
Asaasstnation of GusUtus II L, 221 
Afttiunotty, popular. Part V.. 7^1 — VI.. 

Athens, Tower of the Winds at, 54 
AttmctiTe force of a blast of air. 219 
Australia Kelix, discorery of, I., 6— 

II.. 30 
ATcrMuns and desires. 3 

Bamboo, growth of the. 110 

Barton, liues by, 22 

Brale. salraet from. 192 

lieauty and variety of Nature. 82 

Krc-krcping. econumv of, G9 

Bciug*. animated, probable number of. 

Bell, liiving. 145 
Bellows, various kinds of, 29 
Bcthleiiem. descriptiou of. 213 
Bihk*, illustrations of, from Mona- 

mrnts of Antiquity. 3, 26 
Biogrsphy of Elias Ashmole, 173 

Samuel Richardson, S40 

Bird-niessrngvr, the, 157 

llirds. Tocal organs of. 141 

Blair, extract from. 187 

Blood and muscular fibres, structure 

of. 64 
Botaoist. gratifications of a. 136 
Bhtsio btrCore and after the Roman 

occupancy, 237 
British colonies, statistics of the, 138 
Bttckiui$ham. Duke of. discovery of 

itH* skeleton of. at Salisbury, 129 
Bustard, the. 55 

Canada, Lower, winter in, 148 
CaoMfiiau winter sung. 131 
Caldwell, extract from. 837 
Cariiu*;furd. Ireland. 9 
Carlisie Cathedral. 50 
Cattle of Sherborne. 177 
Catacombs of Egypt. 841 
CAtbedral of Strastwurg. 8 
Chalmers, extract firom. 167 
Child, mind of a. 198 

formation of the chamolerof, 283 

Mr».. extraeU from, 188. 198« 

223w 229, 237. 243 
CbOlon. castle of. 193 
China, swallows' nests in, 194 

travelling in. 258 

Churches, remarks on the cooaecnp 
}r tionof. 117 

ancient, aocidenta in. 914 

Clarke. Dr. E. D., extracU fh>m, 68 
Cleopatra's Needle, 43 
Clepsydra, or water-clock, 108 
Chmds. rain indicated by. 847 
Clyde and Clydesdale. 186 
Coal-miae. descripUoa of a, 81 
Coloor of steam, all 
Comets, account oC 161 
Companions, nsfissry qnaliticffin. 6 
Coatrivanees of ants. 111 
Ceoviet's wife, the, 85 
Couoo. Rev. W. 8.. extnets ttom, 69 

Cowper. death oC 196 

Cowslip. Vlrgioiaa. 888 

Craatto^, OB the study wt works otl9ft 

CniIm of BwltmUBd. oa th% 91 

Crimes and Punishments. ISO 
Critic, what constitutes the real. 109 
Crucudile and alligator, dilfercnco 

between. 144 
CrosslNjAvs, old Kngltth. 93 
Cruw, vuraciiiuKuesii uf the, 58 
Cultivation of the water-cress, i37 
Cuitis. extract from, 140 

Death of Cuwper, 19 

Gustavus HI., King of Sweden. 

Debts, plcssure of paying. 19 
Dervishefc. dance of tlu*. 03 
Description of Strasbourg, 89. 105 
Diviug, on. 95 

Bell, description of, 145, 199 

Divisions of Time, 7. 53 
Dog. anecdote of a, 198 
Drawing, photogenic, 138 
Duncun. extracts from, 67 
Duty more than luve, 224 

Eagle and salmon, struggle between, 

Bar. physiology of the, 140 
Early modes of measuring time, 7* 53^ 

83, 108, 143 
Early rising, lines on, 178 
Easter Eggs. 136 
Eastern 'countries, value of water in, 

Echoes, origin and nature of. 47* 108 
Economy of Bee-keeping, 69 
Edwards, William, account of. 917 
Eel, voraciousness of the, 45 
Effects of gentleness, 188 

■ accumulated electricity, 194 
Eggs. Easter. 136 

Egypt, swarms of locusts in, 141 

catacumlw of. 241 

Egyptiaoa, aucient. StS4 

Elasiicity of various bodies. 88 

of air. 119. 148. 189 

of liuuiils. 231 

Electricity — VI.. Electrical experi- 
ments. 23— VII., 60— VIII., The 
Le\den jar. 68— IX.. 116— X.. 
Effects of accumulated electricity. 
194— XI.. Electrometers, 236 

Emery, on. 2^ 

Emigration to New South Wales, 180 

England in the Olden Time. 43, 71, 
93, 100. 157. 196, 238, 2U 

Epistle in rhyme. 224 

E%-euiug primrose, 198 

Evening souuds, 211 

Exhibitions of trained animals. 157 

Experiments, electrical. 23, 60 

Falconry, ancient practice of. 196 

Fanatical murderers in India, 131 

Farewell to the vanities of the world. 15 

Feet of animals, 178 

Fishery. Whale. 191 

Fibhes. gold and silver. 134 

Pishint;, singular mode of. in theTysol, 

Fixed-stars, the, 165 
Flowers, proofs of a Divine Power 

deduced fh>m the structure of, 67 
Force, attractive, of a blast of air, 219 
Forest tree, the. 55 
Fox, Chas. James, extract trom, 837 
Frailties of human nature, 94 
France, climate o(, 141 
Froi^s. developement o^ 149 
Fruits designed to be a source of enjoy* 

ment to man, 45. 51 
Fruit trsei, 147 

Garden, meditations in a. 178 
Qenius when entitled to respect. 118 
Gentleness, effects of, 188 
Glances at tne modes of travelling in 

foreign lands, 350 
Glass-siainers. list of eminent English, 


■ mode of staining, 65 
Gleig, Rev. G. B.. extract (torn. 111 
God. power of. 843 

Goitre and cretins of SwiserUnd. 830 
Gold and silver flishes. 134 
Goldsmith, lines by, 211 
Great Western steam-ship, description 

of, 208 
Grene, A. O., lines by. 81 
Grotto of Antioarua, 174 
Growth of the oamboo. 110 
Gunpowder, some account of. 33. 50 
GosUvos III, Kiuff of 8wedtn,d0ath 


Hall, Capt. Basil, anecdote by, 183 
lialley's diviug beU, 145 
Happiness, iu what it consbts, 13 
Hawking, jiastime of. 196 
Head dresses, ladies'. 82 
Heber, Hp., letter of tu his mother. 215 
Herschel's reflecting telescope, descrip> 
tion of, 166 

Sir. J., extract from, 211 

Himyaritic language, 63 
History of navigation. 121, 200 
Horisontal sun-dial, construction of.84 
.Home. Bp. extracts from. 107 
Hot climates, vegetation in, 102 
(Hour-glass, eoiutructiun of. 143 
|Humau muscles, strength of. 171 

■ nature, frailties of, 94 

Humming bird, miuute species of, 16 
Hunting iu the fifteenth centur}-. 244 
Hurling, ancient game of, 101 
Hyena, its powers of imitation, 104 

Ignorance unprofitable, 107 
Illiutrations of Bible, from monuments 

of the antiquitv — XX , Altars aud 

incense. 3 — XXI., Wanderings in 

the desert. 26 
Incidents in the whale-fiahery. 191 
"Independence day.*' celebration oil 

India, fanatical murderers in. 131 
Influence of science. 87 

religion on poetry. 184 
Ingenuity of a spider. 1 46 
Insects, agility and strength of; 59 
Ireland, round towers of. 67 
Irish Jaunting-car, description of, 254 

Jaibieson, Mrs. extracts trova, 224 
2ava, ship -building in. 823 
Johnson, extracu from, 13» 120, 178, 

Judgment of man, 138 
Jura, brief account of; 886 
Justice, love of, 187 
Justs and tounumentib 71 

Kalmes. Lord, extract from. 89 
Knowledge, usefulness of, 107 

Ladies* head-dresses. 82 
Language, the Himyaritic, 63 
Laugh of the hyena. 104 
Lecount. extract from, 139 
Legend of the echo at Lurley. 103 
Leyden-Jar, 68. 116 
Life-lxMit. origin of the, 123 
Liquids, elasticity of. 231 
Locks and keys, antiquity of. 133 
Lociikts, swarms of. 151 
Looking-glass, action of. ISO 

manufacture of 183 

Lord, prisnuer of the. 109 
l.ove of juktire. 187 

duty more tlian, 224 

Lower CouadA, Winter in, 148 
Luminous appearance of the sea. 


Maccnlloch. extracts from. 8. 15. 16. 

22. 45. 51, 107. 109. 142. 178^ 212. 

Machinery, improvements in, 176 
Machines for raising water, 16, 58 
Madox, extracts from, 141 
Man. limited powers of, 16 
— — flruits a source of enjoyment to. 

Manners and customs of the Afghans. 1 
Mant Hp . 'extracU from. 85. f 17. 138 
Manufacture i^unpowder. 33 

■ silk, rbe and progress 

of, 133. 152. 176 
Marks of time, 115 
Martin. extracU fhun. 138, 148 
Materials for the toilette. 13. 91. 150, 


wriUng, 90, 62. 111. 120. 

Maund, extracts from, 82, 98. 94, 10^ 

136, 195, 210 
Measuring time, early modes of, 7* S3> 

83, 108. 143 
Mecca, pilgrimage to, 251 
MediUtions in a Garden. 178 
Mellen, G. lines by. 142 
Melmoth, extracU fkom, 178 
Memory, extraoidinary power of, 888 
Mrteer, the, 98 
Midsummer, remarks on, 819 
Mind, improvement of. 88 
- influence of scienoe oa the, 87 1 
■ proctaect of the, 848 I 

Mine, description of a coal, 91 
Mineral waters, localities,^ nature, and 

uses of. 97. 113 
Mitchell. Major, discoveries in New 

South Wales, 6 
Modern practice of navigation. 194 
Montgomery. J. hymn by. 109 
Monuments of aiitiquity. illustrations 

of Bible from. 3. 26 
Moodie. Mrs., song by, 131 
Morality of an acUon, on what it 

de|jends, 220 
Moscow, sketch uf. 315 
Mulberry trees, 152 
Muscles, strength of the human. 171 
Muscular tihies, structuie of. 64 
" My mother. I remember thee." 99 
••My Years" 142 

National character, liest method of 

attaining a knowledge of. 111 
Natural philosophy, study of. 811 

' recreations in, ISL 

88. 119. 148, 189. 831 
Nature, variety in the works of. 88 
unity of design in, 136 

- and uses of mineral waten, 
97, 113 

Navigation, brief history of. 5. 181— 
Short sketch of the principal voy- 
ages performed In modem timon, 
121— Ships. 123— Modern praetlcw 
of navigation. 124— VI., On Steam 
navigation, 201 

Neeh>, H., lines by. 212 

New South Wales, discoveries in. 6. 30 

emigration to^ 180 

Normandy, ramble along the coast oL 

Norwegian carriole. 254 

Nothing made in vain, 19 

Old Sarum. history of, 153 

OUlen time. England iu the. 481 7L 

93. 100, 157. 196. 238, 8U 
Owl, the white, 32 

Palmyra, rulus of. 228 
I'aramatta, garden at. 6 
Passion, an arbitrary tyrant. 195 
Passions and affections, influence ot 

Passover, observation of the. 118 
Peukniven, manufacture of, 120 
Pescc, Nicolo, the Sirili.iu diver, 846 
Phillips, extracts from, 198 
riiilosophv. recreations in natural. 18, 

f^. 119, 148. 189. 231 

study of natural, 811 

Photogenic drawing. 138 

Physical si:ieuce not a fit subject off 
revelation, 220 

Physiology of the ear, 140 

PlanU, resistant-tf uf, to the winds. 88 

Poetry, inlluence of religion on. 184 

Pomp<'y's Pillar, 41 

Pout y Prydd, Glamorganshire, 817 * 

Pope, extracts from, 15, 239 

Popular Astronomy, Part V., 7$— 
Exterior Planets, 73— Mars, 7^— 
The Astcioiils, 75— Jupiler, 75— 
Saturn, 77— Urauus, 78— VI., 161 
—Comets, 16)— Fixed Stars. 164 

Pounce, use of, 120 

Poverty. dUTereut ap(iearaneei of. ITS 

and wealth, difTurent tempta* 

tious of. 237 

Primrose, the evening, 199 
Prisoner of tlie Lord, 1U9 
Pulpit Kocks. Pennsylvania, 141 
Punishments, crimes and, 120 

Quadrant, use of the, 187 
Quebec, taking of the city of. 810 
Quintain, game of, 43 

Rain indicated by cloutls. 247 
Raising water, machines for. 16, S18 
Ramble along the coast of Normandy. 

Rapids of the St I«awrence. 107 
Rapparee. origin of the term, 10 
Recreations iu Natural PbUosoBhir* 

—X., Centre of Gravity. 18— XL. 

Ehisticitv, 88— XII.. EhMtieltyof 

Air. 119. 148. 189— XV., Ekuti- 

city of Liquids, 831 
Religion, the sheet anchor of hftppi* 
* neas. 227 

>- a sovereign baloa. 09 

■ its influence cm. tim mSndLk^k 


Religion, practical letiont in. 8S9 
Rtfuittance of plants tu the winds. 93 
Rerenge. spirit or, to be guarded 

nKtiinst. 183 
Rhyme. epUtle in. S24 
Richanlson. Samuel, bioipraphy of. S39 
Ridicule, a gro»B pleasure, xd 
Rise and prui;re-is of the silk manu- 

fncture, 133, 152. 176 
RocIcR. the Pulpit, Ul 
Rose, on the beauties of a. SI3 
Round Towers of ircUiul. 57, 
Royal George, plan of steerage cabins 

ou l>o:iril of, 181 
Ruins of INilmyrn. S28 
Russian Dru«ky, 253 

St. Lawrence, rnpidii of the, 107 
Salmon and eajfle, struggle between, 

Sand, storms of, 61. 253 
Saml-glass, construction of, 143 
Sarum, Old, history of. 163 
Scenes and lacidcuts in the whale- 

flshery. 191 
Schiller, ballail by. 946 
Scleuco. Its influence on the mind. 87 
■ physical, not a fit subject of 

reTelation, 920 

norelties in, not early appre- 

ciited. 89 
Scotch peasant, anecdote of a« 186 
Scripture nerer opposes the senses, 85, 
Sea, luminous appearance of th^ 1A9, 

Sealing-wax. manufacture of, 91 
Secret tribunals of Westphalia, 187 
8elf*denial. usefulness of, 130 
Self-controuU necessity of, 848 . 

Serpents,' method of rendering docile, 

S«*ward, Min, Hues by, 178 
Shenstnne, extnicts from, 19 
Sherborne, castle of, account o( 177 
Shuckford, extracts from, 919 
Sickness, lessons it teaches, 939 
Silk manufacture, rise and progress 

of. 133. 153. 176 

worm, natural history of, 159 

"Sing me a lay," 919 

Singular mode of fishing in the Tyrol, 

Skeleton of the Duke of Buckingham, 

discovered at Salisbury, 199 
Sketch of the principal voyages in 

modern times, 191 

MoHCow. 915 

Slates, method of quarrying. 111 
Snap-dragon, the. 190 

Soap, manufacture of, 13, 91 

Southey, lines by. 919 

Spalding's diviag-bell, 199 

Spanish carriages, 953 

Spider, Ingenuity uf a, 176 

Spring morning, meditations on a, 

Springhead, Kent, watar>crws ground 

at. 137 
Stained glass •windows, ancient, 17* 66 
SUtutics of the British Colonies, 138 
Steam naTlgatlon. history of, 901 

oolourof, ill 

Steele, selections fbom, S 

Steerage eabins on bmrd of Roynl 

^George, emigrmnt ship 181 
Strasbonn.aeeountof, 89, 10ft 
Street, A. Ji., lines by, tt 
Strength of hamaB miiseles, 171 

Strugifle between an eagle and sal. 

mon, 109 
Study of Natural Philosophy. 911 
Sun, first apftcarance of tlie,' 179 
Sun-dial. the. 83 

Superctliou«ness and knowledge. 93 
Swallows* nests, demand fur in China, 

Switzerland, town of Aargau. 170 
— — ^— — goitre and cretins of, 930 

Tablets, Tarions writing. 119 
Talent, uses and abuses of, 113 
Taste, evidences of the absence of, 109 
Taylor, J., extracts from, 179 
Telescope, Herschel's reflecting, de. 

scription of, 166 
Thomson. Hues by, 161 
Thugs of India, account of, 131 
Time, early modes of measuring, 7* 

63, 83. 108. 143 

marks of, 115 

Toilette, materials for. 13^ 91. 150, 183 
Tory, origin of the term, 10 
" Tower of the winds," Athens, 54 
Townson. extracts ftrom, 96 
Trained animals, exhibitions of, 157 
TraTelling in ft^reign lands, glances at 

the modes of, 950 
True humanity, in what it consists^ 937 
Tyrol, mode of fishing in, 98 

Usebilness of self-denial. 130 

Vanities of the world, farewell to, 15 
Vegetables and animals, striking 

resemblances between, 149 
Vegoution, the best means of impio> 

Ting the air, 48 

Vegetation, in hot climates, 102 
VirfiinJan cowslip, *J^ 
Vocal or>;nus of birds, 141 
Voraciouitneitd of tlif er-l, 45 

■ — — — — rrow, 58 

Voyages, the principal modern, 121 

Wafer, preparation of. 62 

Waters, general localities, nature ond 

uses of miuend. 97. 113 
Water, machines for raisin^', IC. 52 

clock. d<*i»criptiou oi. 10l< 

wheel, action of, 1 5i) 

value of, in tiie east 248 

— crcKS. ruUivcitiou of, 137 

Watts, Kelection Trom, 5. 
Wrsithercock, lines on a, 31 
Wellington. Duke of. Wati-rloo 

charger. 155 
Westphalia, secret tribunals of 187 
Whale- flshery, the. 191 
White-owl, structure of, 39 
Wife, the convict's, 83 
Willmott, extracts Irom, 184, 193. 915, 

Wind, caprices of the, 8 

resistance of plants to. 22 

Windows, stained glass, 17. 65 
Winter-song. Cauaillan. 131 
Winter in Lower Canada, 149 
Wolfe. General, death of, 909 
Woman, influence of. 247 
Works, ancient and modern, 139 
■ of nature, variety o^ 89 

Wotton. Sir. H., lines by, lo 
Writing«matariids — IX. Sealing-wax, 

90~X. Wafers, 69— XI. Slates. 

Ill— X1I» Pea-kniTesand pounce. 


AARBaaon, view 169 

Aaron, tomb ot in tho Desert of Bl 

Zih. 95 
Afghanistan. nmtlTes of, 1 
Air, iilnstrations of the elastieUy oi^ 

148. 149. 189 
Alcxaudria, catacombs of, 941 
Ancient altar, 4 

Animals, exhibition of trained, 157 
Aukarsirom exposed to public Tieir' at 

SUickholm, 991 
Appearaiu»s, telescopic, of Jupitor, ^ 


Archimedes, screw of, 16 
Armour, Kliogert's, man equipped io« 

Ashmole^ EUas, his homo aiClLainbeth, 

Aslmuth compass, 115 

Barron's lock and key, figures of, 133 
Bath-house of Schlaiigeubad. 97 

Suchelbad. 113 

Boats, great and little, constellation o( 

Bethlehem, town of. 913 
Binuacle-compass, 195 
Bird, the centre of gravity in a, 19 
Blood, structure of, figures illustrative 

of. 64 
Bustard, tlie, 56 

Calabrian cart. 949 

Carlingford castle, ruins of. 9 

Carlisle C:Uhedral. 49 

Castle of Sherltorue, 177 

Catacombs of Alexandria, SMI 

Charcoal furnaces, 37 

Chillou, ciisile or, 103 

Chineu* tumbler. 19, 13 

Clepsyilra. or water-clock, 108, 109 

Comets, iCi 

Compass, the mariner's, 194 

Condenser of a steam-engine. 905 

Con<tellution of the cro-is, 166 

' great and little 

bears, 168 
Corrn Lynn, falls of the Clyde at» 185 
Cross-bows. 93 
Cross, constellation of, 166 

Desert of £1 Zih, tomb of Aaron In« 

Dials horizontal, vertical, and snn, 84, 

Diouysins, ear of. 140 
Discharger, the universal. 116 
Diving-bell, Dr. Halicy's. 145 
-^^— Spalding- f, 900 
Division of time, diagram to illostrate, 

Duke of Buckingham's skeleton disco- 

vered at Salisbury, 199 

Bar of Dionysius, IM 
■Mtaroggs, 136 

Boho, dia^naa to show tho fonaatloD 

of. 49 
Egyptian flgnres, 96, 97 
ElasHoity of air, iUnstvatlow oC 148 

149, 189 
Eleetridty, ftgnrea to HlastratO!, M, 60, 

61, 68, 69, 116^ U7 
Eleetronetors, S36, V7 
Etretat, Normandy, needles at, S33 
£»hi^tloB of trafbad aaiaalib 157 

Falls of tiMOiyde, 189 
Fifteenth ceatnir, iMwton o(( H4 
Forckig-pampk 89 
French diligeuee, 949 
Fnmaees, ehajteoa^ 3? 

Game of quintain, dHatmt laodea of 
practising^ 44, 4§ 

General Wolfe, death of, 909 

Glass, stainad. Legend of St Rom^tt 
in. 17 

' window in York Cathe- 
dral. 65 

Grsat and little bears, eonstoUation oC 

Gunpowder-jnills, Walthara Abbey, as 
they appeared in 1735. ^ 

■ machines to try the 

strength of, 40 

flalley*s divinff-bell, 145 

Hawking in the thirteenth century, 

Head-drcKses, ladies of the fifteenth, 

sixteenth, aud eighteenth century, 

Hemisphere, Southern, constellation 

of the Cross in, 166 
Horizontal dial, 84 
Hour-glass, illustration of. 144 
Iluntera of ttie flfteenlh century, 944 
Hurling, ancient mode of playing aW 

Idol of Lust, 98 
Irish Jaunting ear, 954 
Italian cabriolet, 949 

Jar, Leyden, figure of, 69, 116 
Jupiter, telescopic appearances oC 7^ 
— satellites of, their motions, 77 

Rildare, ronnd tower at, 57 
Kilngert's armonr. man equipped in,96 

La(Ues' head-dresses of the 15th. 16th, 
and 18th centuries, 81 

Lambed Elias Ashmole's house at, 

Legend of St Romain In stained 
elass, 17 

Ijoyden jar, figures of, 69, 116 

Lifi!-iM>at going to assist a ship hi dis- 
tress. 161 

Locks and keys, ancient 139 

Lost idol oi; 98 

Magnetic oompensator, 197 
Man equipped in Klingert's 
Mariners* compass, lit 
Mars, Mm planet 74 

in the gibbous form, 74 

Afenenrer of pnssnre, 938 
Hen-carriers- of South Aaieile^ 
Milanese carriage, 949 

Natives of AUghaalsUa, 1 
Natntal bridge, Oolnatala, IM 

Virginia, IM 

Needl«« at Rtretat Normuidy, 984 
Norwegian bridge, ST^ 
■ eantola. 

Old SaruBik la dio Ifllh centwy, 188 
Ornamented egg, 136 
Owl, the whito. 89 

baok view of Um skaH ot, 8t 

Paddlo-wheel, figure of, 90? 
Admym, mius of, 998 
Paps bf J urn. distant view of, 995 
Parson's-green, Richardooo's house at 

Piezometor, or measurer of pressure. 

Planet Uranus. 79 

■ Saturn, ring of, 73 

Mars, 74 

Planets, motion of the. 74 

Polish carriole, 953 

Pompey's Pillar, 41 

Pont y Prydd, over the Taff. 917 

Positive and negative electricity. 117 

Pump, different constructious of, 59. 53 

Quadrant, the, 198 

Quebec, death of (Senoral Wolfe at the 

ttkingof. ^09 
Quintain, ancient game of, 44, 46 

Richardson's hoiue at Parson's- 
green. 940 
Ring of the planet Saturn. 73 
Romain. St.. legend of, 17 
Rouud tower at Kildare. 57 
Ruins of CarHugford castle, 9 

Palmyra. 988 

Russian drosky, 949 
skdge, 953 

Satellitos of Jupiter, motions of^ 77 
Saturn, ring of the planet, 73 

telescopic appearance of, 77" 

Sehlangenbad, valley aud i>ath-hoQse 

of, 97 
Screw of Archhneiles, 16 
Serpent, worship of, in I^gypl. 97 
Slieeltms of Jura, with distant view of 

the Paps, 995 
SherlMirne. castle oC in the 14th cen- 
tury, 177 
Ship in distress, lifW-boat going to the 

assistance of, ISi 
Sicilian Utter, 958 

BkeietMl of the Duke of BnekinglMia 

discovered at SaUsbory, 199 
Sknll of aa owl, haak view of. 39 
Solar aystWBi, 80 
Sootbera hemisphere, aoasiellation of 

the cross fas, 166 
Spalding's diving bell, 900 
Springhead, water-oress gronnd at 137 
Stadielbad. bath-house oC 113 
S4ained glaspb legend af St Romalu 

in, 17 
wmdMT in York C*. 

Stan, magoitoda ot ftxna the Ist to 

the 7th, 164 
8teara-bo«t ssetion and plaa of tho 

worictaig parto oC SO 
—— vmal, figoia ol^ 908 
Stockholm, Ankarfttrom exposeil to 

public view at, 991 
Strasbourg, vuew in, 89. 105 
Strnctuss of the blood, figures to illna- 

trale, 64 
South American wagon. 949 
Sun-dial, 85 
Swedish travelling wagon, 949 

TaflT, Pont y Prydd over the, 917 
Tartar palanquin, 949 
Telescopes, construction of, 166. 167 
Telescopic appearances of Jupiter, 75 

— Saturn. 77 

Time, diagram illustrative of tlie divi* 

sion of, 8 
Tomb uf Aaron in the desert of El 

Zih, 95 
Tonrusnient a water, 79 
Tower, rnuud. ot Kildare. 57 
Trsincd animals, exhibition of. 157 
Trap-bull, ancient mode of pUying at 

Travelling in the Andns, 953 
Tumbler. Chiuese, 19, 13 

Undershot-wheel, 156 
Uranus, the planet 79 

Valley and bath-hotise of Sehlangen- 
bad. 97 
Vortical dial, 84 

Waltham Abbey, gunpowder mills at 

Water Tournament 79 

clock, construction of, 108, 109 

wheel, 156 

Water-cress ground at Springhead, 137 
White owl, 39 

Wolfe, General, death of; 909 
Working parts of a steam- boat aec- 

tton and plan of, 901 
Worship of the seipent ia Egypt S? 

York Cathedra], 
in, 65 



&muv^»^ M^U^^int^ 



5T?, 1838. 


NATirxa or 

And loTc'i and rrieDdihip't tiaely pointed dirt 

FillblnnUd from each indurated li earl. 

Some Wcnier liituca o'er iLe mguolain'i breait 

Mar *i>, like hlcona, coweriag on the nnij 

But all ibe untler morali, lucli ai play 

Throaih life * more cnltured walk*, atid ebann the way, 

Thcee, hr daptraed, on tJaioroui pioioni fly, 

To iport and Butler ia ■ kindei akj* — Goldmhtu, 

Thi inhabitants of mountain diatricte have in all 
agea been disdn^ithed by a boldnees of character 
and intrepidity of conduct which have rendered them 
formidable or admirable, according as the loft civili- 
ties of life have been neglected or cultivated. If 
tbeae important conaiderations be laid aside, we find 
that the habits and cnstoms of men are greatly, if not 
alt^etber, influenced by the nature of the soil and 
climate which they inhabit. The rugged and intrepid 
moantaineer derives his character from that of hia 
native hills : the warm and luxurious plains of the 
south impart indolence and inactivity: the cold and 
barren scenes of the north produce a brisk and per- 
severing energy. 

If the reader will consnlt the map of Asia, he will 
find A^banistuij ■ kinsdom of conaidcnble magni- 


tnde, between Persia and Hindostan. Its eastern 
boundary is the river Indus. It is bounded on the 
north by an extensive chain of snow-clad mountains, 
called Hindoo Koosh and the Paropemisan range*; 
on the west by Persia, with Herat for its frontier 
town; and south by Beloochistan. It is situated 
between the twenty-ninth and thirty-aixth degrees of 
northern latitude, and the lixty-first and seventy-first 
of eastern longitude. This country is peculiarly intCi 
resting at the present time, as being the seat of war 
between the Persians, favoured by the Russians, on 
one side, and the Afghans, assisted by the combined 
forces of Runjeet Singh and the British, on the other. 
The reader will probably remember that on a former 
occasion we gave an account of that extraordinary 
individual, Runjeet Singh, whose name and character 
have been for several weeks past objects of public 
interest in our journals f 

It is not of course our object to enter into the politi- 
cal question which at present agitates the Afghans. We 

* Tbe eleTilion of the mouaUini of Hiodoo Kooth seerni to b« 
ereater ihan that of the Aades. One of the peakt of Ihis raofe hai 
been otimited by LieuleniDt Macartney 31 ^,493 feel above the 
level of the tet. The Hon. U. Elphinslone found no diminution of 
•ooir on thiilonT ran^e inthe mont^oF June, althougb inthe naigh- 
bouring plain of Peibawei ihetbennometermarked atempentin 9' 
, t Sel &liird» MagatHu, Vol XII., ^.129. 


[January 5, 

propose to furnish a few interesting details respecting 
them as a nation : the only remark necessary to be 
offered, is that, for the safety and stability of the 
British dominions in India, it has been deemed advi- 
sable by the British governmeAt in the east to lend 
assistance to the Afghans in repelling the incursions 
of their invaders. 

Some writers refer the origin of the Afghans to the 
Israelites, some to the Egyptians; but the more gene- 
ral opinion is that they are derived from the Hun 
and Scythian tribes, who in former times were com- 
pelled, by migration or conquest, to seek a new 
abode; and who gradually settled in the mountain 
districts between Persia and Hindostan ; a country in 
which they were not likely to be molested, on account 
of the sterility of the soil and the coldness of the 
clime. They collected originally in toomans or clans, 
which continue to the present day. Many of their 
chiefs are celebrated in oriental history. In the tenth 
century, the north-eastern part of the empire itaa 
conquered by a Khorassan chief; but the Afghatis 
themselves remained independent in their mountain 
fastnesses. The family of this chief held the king- 
dom for two hundred years ; but in 1 159 the Afghans 
reconquered the country, and burned the capital of 
the usurper. They were afterwards attacked by 
Jenghis Khan, and the Mongol dynasty long occu- 
pied the plains, while the Afghans kept to the tnouti- 
tains. From i<105, after the death of Tatiierlanei the 
Afghans enjoyed a long peace till 1506, when thejr 
were attacked by Baber. The plaihs of Afghanistan 
were as usual conquered ; but the Afghatis themselfes 
remained secure, by again resortltig to the tnountains. 
In 1707 the Afghans became thci ilss^ililnts, con- 
quered Persia, and founded an empli*^ which endured 
but a brief space ; for the celebrated Nadii* Shah of 
Persia overthrew it, conquered the AFghans^ tmd in- 
cluded their kingdom in his owU. The lif^ tttid ex- 
ploits of Nadir have been made the subject of an 
excellent historical novel, by Mt. Fraser, called the 
Kuzzilbash. On the death of Nadir ill 1747, an officer 
of the Afghan troop in the service of Persia, Ahmed 
Shah by name, returned to his own country, declared 
its independence, and founded the present monarchy. 
After the death of Ahmed the kingdom became a prey 
to internal dissension. Runjeet Singh seized several of 
its finest provinces, which he still retains, and defends 
by means of a large and well-disciplined army, under 
the management and direction of General Allard^. 

The population of Afghanistan includes Afghans, 
Tartars, Belooches, and Persians, amounting in all to 
about eight millions; one half of which number, 
the Hon. Mountstuart Elphinstone thinks, includes 

Although situated so near the Hindoos, the Afghans 
differ altogether from that people. Their features are 
harsh, and strongly marked. Their faces bronzed by 
the sun; their hair and beards long and uncut; their 
rude dresses of skins, all present striking differences 
between them and their Hindoo neighbours. The 
arts of life are less cultivated ; the luxuries of Hindo- 
stan unknown ; and justice is administered in a ruder 
and more primitive manner than among the Hindoos. 
But rough and unpolished as the Afghans may appear, 
they possess a proud martial spirit, a devoted attach- 
ment to their own wild liberty, a love of sobriety and 
of hospitality, and a general contempt for indolence 
and pleasure, which make them appear in a far more 
favourable light than the weak and treacherous 

The religion of the Afghans is strictly Mohammedan, 
but they tolerate other doctrines. No provision is 
* See Saturday Magasim, before quoted. 

made for the maintenance of their moUahs, or religious 
doctors ; but this neglect is cotnmon in Mohammedan 
states. Their mollahs are supported by individual 
donation, by salary or occasional gifts, and sometimes 
by religious foundations. These moUsdis form a united 
body, called ulema, into which new members are 
admitted after a due course of study and strict exami- 
nation. They are numerous, and often hesitate not 
to assert their rights by an appeal to arms; in which 
case they assemble in numbers often amounting to 
3000; and although no match for the Afghan war- 
riors in arms, yet they generally gain their point 
by their spiritual influence over the multitude. 

The chiefs of the Afghan clans are not hereditary. 
Each chief, or khaun, is generally appointed by the 
king, but sometimes by the people. He is selected 
from the oldest family of the trifie, with a certain 
regard for age, character, and experience. The choice 
is often difficult, from the number of contending can- 
didates, and generally not accomplished without 
bloodshed. The meetings of the ooloos, or tribes, are 
called jeergas: each khaun holds his own jcerga, 
formed from the principal branches of his clan. 
Most decisions receive the consent of the whole clan, 
unless in matters of sudden emergency, when the 
chief may at once decide. One principal object of 
these hieetings is the adriiiilistfatioii of justice, founded 
Upon a rude Und simple code, atld l^gulated by the 
Koran. This code is called poJosMoomifUllee, the first 
principle of which is^ that all eirifiles ai^e td be regarded 
its injuries to the peHdhs ohljr who Mtlffer hy them; 
and the object of the IdW is either tn obtain compen- 
sation for the injurjr to the injured, or to regulate the 
amount of retafiatioil oh the part of the latter. It 
is deemed honourttbtei tbf M iildiridtial to redress 
his wrongs by ptifatH i^VStigei btlt if hd Exceed the 
measure thereof, he 11 Stil^tlftblci fd tllti State. Among 
some of the tribeSj hdWCt^fi & ^oW jtlstifiiltrtll system 
is gaining groutld^ 

Criminal trials ai^ cotidtict^d before a jeerga, at 
which Mohammedati iaWyc^rs, called moollahs, are 
allowed to plead. The proceedings are opened with 
prayers : a Pooshtoo verse is then repeated, announcing 
that, although events are in the hands of Allah, man 
is allowed to deliberate. Since most crimes consist of 
acts of violence committed according to the allowed 
principle of revenge, the act is generally admitted. 
The jeerga has to decide upon its legality. There are 
certain grave forms, and a rude, but highly-admired 
species of eloquence practised, and Mr. Elphinstone 
says that the decisions are usually impartial, if not 
just. The mode of compensation is a very odd one ; 
to understand which we must go into a few apparently 
irrelevant details. 

Although polygamy is allowed, yet the females are 
not subjected to that seclusion which prevails in most 
Mohammedan states. Hence the female sex is not 
so much degraded in this country as elsewhere in the 
east. But to every woman is attached a certain 
marketable value; and although attachments between 
the sexes are frequent, yet no man is allowed to marry 
until he has earned the purchase-money of his mis- 
tress. To do this is often attended with delays and 
difficulties, which impart a romantic cast to the affair, 
and form the theme of many a wild Afghan tale and 
song. When a man is sentenced to penal infliction, 
his sentence is to deliver to the family of the com- 
plainant a certain number of young women, who 
become part and parcel of the property of the injured 
man, and may be sold as such by him. Twelve is 
the usual number of young women to be awarded in 
case of murder, six with portions, and six without; 
the usual portion ainountiBg to between seven and 




eight poDDds sterling. For cnttiiij; off a hand, an 
ear, or a note, six women j for breaking a tooth, three 
for a wonnd in the head, one. If the complainant 
consent, the defendant may pay the value of the 
-woncD in money or goods. 

The Afghans are fond of robnst sports and athletic 
exercises. They are devotedly attached to hunting in 
all its forms j some of which are peculiar to them- 
selves. One mode is, to form a large circle, and 
drive all the game up to a central point, where it is 
slain. The attmn is a violent noisy dance, in which 
both sexes delight. Flaying at marbles, hopping, 
jumping, &c., are favourite games ; and as they delight 
in feasts and convivial enjoyments, they generally 
play for a feast, and the loser has to entertain the con- 
queror. They often pit cocks^ quails, and other 
auimala against each other, for a similar stake. 

With all the wildnesa and turbulence of a young 
and free nation, the Afghans are nevertheless as 
active in mind as in body. They delight in stories 
and tales, especially the rude poetry of their warrior- 
chiefs, which celebrates the exploits of the elan. The 
reading of poetry is a distinct occupation in many 
of the towns, lltey possess few works that are mure 
thaoa century and a half old; and all of them arc 
said to be imitations of the Persian writers. It 
happens unfortunately that the Afghans regard the 
Persians as heretics, and will not resort to Persian 
colleges and schools. Their own schools arc numenius, 
and they teach the rudiments of oriental learning, 
which is widely diCTused. Their language is peculiar: 
it ia called pvtitoo. 

The Afghans venerate birth and long descent : no 
man is considered a true Afghan who cannot trace his 
origin through at least six generations. Hence every 
mao is provided with a long list of ancestors, whose 
mighty deeds he dwells upon with great complacency. 

These people are devotedly attached to the pastoral 
life. One division dwells in bouses; another in tents. 
They shrink from the exercise of trade and manilal 
labour i and regard those who exercise it with con- 
tempt. The fixed habitations of the lower orders of 
Afghans are rudely built with unbumt bricks, and 
roofed with wood. The palaces of the higlier orders 
are on the Persian model, though inferior: their chief 
ornameats are all Persian. 

The Afghan costume is peculiar. It consists of 
dose tunics, and wide mantles of sheepskin, or coarse 
woollen cloth, for the lower ranks, and velvet, silk, and 
fine shawl-cloth for the higher. Boots are everywhere 
yfom i and it is cunsidered as a mark of disrespect to 
their associates to appear without them. The dress 
of the ladies consists of jackets and pantaloons, both 
of velvet, silk, or shawl-cloth. Gold and silver 
omaments, as well as precious stones, are not uu- 

Their food is simple, consisting chiefly of ptlaas of 
mattou and broth: their drink is butter-milk orshcr- 
beL They also nse tobacco. Fruit and vegetables 
are remarkably cheap among them ; and in the 
absence of animal food, the consumption is great 
among the lower orders. When a sheep is slaughtered 
it is usual for its owner to make a feast among his 
neighbours and friends ; and the guests are often 
valoed in proportion to their story-telling abilities. 
The diet of the rich is chiefly an imitation of that of 
the Persian nobility, where the food, often ornamented 
with gold and silver leaf, is presented on trays of the 
aanie material. 

Id conrlosion, we may observe that the Afghans 
are so named by the Persians. Their national name 
is Alxai, and they will own no other. The Hindoos 
coll them Patami. 

Altars and Incense. 
The altar of sacrifice was generally of a cubical 
form among the Jews and Egyptians. Wc have 
already given an engraving* of the form in which 
the bloody sacrifice was offered to the deity, hearing 
testimony to the great extension of that mighty and 
important truth which Natural Religion could never ' 
have discovered, " without shedding of blond, there 
is no remission of sin." In this kind of sacrifice a 
portion of the blood was necessarily sprinkled upon 
the altar; it thus became hallowed, and we find that 
it was used in the form of consecration prescribed 
for the high priests under the Lcvitical law. 

And (huu shult take of the bluoil that i» upon the altar, 
and of the anuiutiiig oil, and spricikle it uiton Aaron, and 
upon his garments, and upmi hiii sons, and upon the gar- 
mcnls of his sons with him : and lie shall be lialluwcd, and 
his gnrmenls. and his sona, and his sous' garments nith 
him. (Exod. \xi\. 21.) 

In the Levitical law we find that great importance 
is ascribed to the actual sprinkling of the bluod upon 
the altar; for that law was designed constantly to 
remind the chosen people of the blood of that Great 
Atonement which was to be made once fur all on 
Calvary, to expiate the sius of mankind. 

The life of the flu^h i^ in Ihc blooil : and I have given it 
to jou upon the altar to make an utoncmenl for your souls '• 
for it is tlic bloud that mnkctb an atonement fat the soul* 
(Lev. xvii. II.) 

The burnt offering, or holocaust, was different 
from the bloody sacrifice; it was not expiatory, but 
an act of homage or gratitude, as appears from the 
dinctioDs given at the consecration of Aaron. 

Tliou shult also take one ram ; and Aaron and bis sona 
sliall pul tlicir hnnda upon llie hcnil of the ram. And thou 
nhalt blay the ram, ami tliou hliult laku his bloud, and 
sprinkle it round about upon the n liar. And ihou ehdt 
cut the ram in pieces, and -nash Uie inwards of hiin, and 
his lef;f, and put them unto his pieees, and unio his head. 
And thou siinlt burn tlie whole mu upon the ailar: it ia a 
turnl ofTerinj; unio iho Lord: it is a sweet savour, an 
oQoring made by Bre unto the Lord. (Kxod. xxix. Is — 18.) 

The act of homage is clearly distinguished from 
the act of expiation, in the sacrifice prescribed for 
rulers who had been guilty of an involuntary crime. 

When a ruler hath sinned, and done somewhat through 
ilfuoraiico against any of ihe commandments of tho Lord 
his Goil concernini; thiiit;s which should not be done, and 
ia (;uiliy ; or if bis sin, wherein he lialh sinned, come to 
his huowledt;c; he shall briut; his offeritif;, a kid of the 
gonts, a male witliout blemish; and he sb all lay his hand 
upon the head of the goat, and kill il in the place where 
ihey kill the burnt offering before the Lord: It is a sin 
offering. And the priest shall take of the blood of the sin 
offerinj; with his (iugcr, and put il upon the horns of (ho 
altar of burnt offering, and shall pour out his blood at the 
bottom of tlie altar of burnt offering. And he sliall bum 
all his fat upon the altar, as Ihe fat uf the sacrifice of peace 
ufforincs: and tlio priest shall make an atonement fur him 
as coneerning his sin, and it shall be fur);iven him. (Lev. 
iv. 22— 2fi.) 

It is of importance to observe that this distinction 
between the bloody sacrifice and the burnt offering 
which is BO clearly made in the law revealed by 
Moses ; and which so forcibly intimates that the 
former was the type of some future great and con- 
summating sacrifice, is not found in the ritual of any 
heathen nation. In the contest between Elijah and 
the priests of Baal, the latter confimnded the two 
togeUier, for they shed their own blood round about 
the altar they had erected to their pretended deity, 
when they found that prayers were of no avail. 




Elijah lud unto the propheU of Baal, ChooM you one 
Imllock for yourulves, and dress it Srst; for ye are many; 
Uid call on the name of your gods, but put no firo under. 
And they took the bullock which was given them, and they 
dnased it, and called on tlie name of Baal iVom morning 
«ven until noon, saying, O Baal, hear us. But there was 
no voice, nor any that answered. And they leaped upon 
the altar which was made. And it came to pass at noon, 
that Elijah mocked them, and said, Cry aloud : for he i> a 
^od; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a 
Journey, or peradventure he aleepetb, and must be awaked. 
And they cried aloud, and cut themselves afler their 
manner with knives and lancets, till tlie blood gushed out 
upon them. (I Kings xviii. 25—38.) 

The altsr of burnt offering differed in Bbape from 
the simple Bacrificisl altar; the latter, aa we have 
Kcn, was of stone, tinwronght by human hands, bat 
the former was commanded by Moses to be made 
limply of earth. 

An altar of earth thou shalt make unto me, and shalt 
aacriflce thereon thy burnt offerings, and thy peace offerings, 
thy sheep, and thine osen: in all places where I record my 
name I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee. (Exod. 
zx. 24.) 

The altar of burnt offierings erected by Solomao in 
the court of the temple was brasen, and of great 
capacity, but it was iasufGcient for the great sacrifice 
which was offered at the oolemn dedicatioa of the 

Solomon offered a sacrifice of peace ofrenngs, which he 
offered unto the Lord, two and twenty thousand oxen, and 
an hundred and twenty thousand sheep. So the king and 
all the children of Israel dedicated the house of the Lord, 
lie same day did the king hallow the middle of the court : 
that was before the bouse of the Lord t for there he offered 
burnt offerings, and meat offerings, and the fat of the 
peace offerings : because the brasen allar that was before 
the Lord was too little to receive the burnt offerings, and 
meat offerings, and the fat of the peace offerings. ( 1 Kin"s 
Tiii. 63, G4.) 

Differing in many respects from tnose we have 
described, was the altar of burnt offering, for the 
construction of which Moses gave the most precise 
and particular directions, becaose it was alwajrs to 
accompany the tabernacle. 

And thou ahalt make an altar of shittim wood, five cubits 
long, and five cubits broad; the altar shall be four square : 
and the height thereof shall be three cubits. And thou 
shslt make the horns of it upon the four comers thereof; 
bis horns shall be of the same; and thou shalt overlay it 
with brass. Aud thou shalt make bis pans to receive his 
ashes, and his shovels, and his batons, and bis flesbbooks, 
and his fire-pans; all the vessels thereof thou shalt make 
of brass. And thou ahalt make for it a grate of network 
of braaa; and upon the net shalt thou make fourbraaen 
rings in the fbur corners thereot Aud thou ahalt put it 
under the compass of the altar beneath, that the net may 
be even to the midst of the altar. And thou shalt make 
■taves for the altar, staves of shittim wood, and oveiUy 

them with brats. And the staves shall be put into iha 
rings, and the staves shall be upon the two sides of fbe 
altar, to bear it. Hollow with boards shall thou make it t 
as it was showed thee in the mount, so shall they make it. 
(Exod. xxvii. 1—8.) 

This altar was to be for the bnmt offerings of fhe 
nation, but that of earth was probably permitted for 
the use of separate tribes and private families. lo- 
deed, one of the most signal marks of the dinne 
wisdom which dictated the law to Moses, is that he 
has made provision in his ritual not only for the 
nomade state of the Israelites, collected into one con- 
gregation while wandering in the desert; but also for 
the very different condition in which they would be 
when settled in the Promised Land. Utterly incon- 
sistent as the two states of society are, we find that 
ample directions ate given for both conditions of the 
Jewish polity; it is inconceivable ibxt hnmaa reason 
could have sufficed to accomplish this double task, 
and we must therefore humbly recognise in it proofs 
of "the wisdom which cometh from above." 

The altar of incenae differed from the altar of 
burnt offerings in its dimensions and its covering; it 
was only one cubit in breadth, and two cubits in 
height, and it was overlaid with pure gold instead of 
brass. The inferior priests, and in some cases the 
heads of families, were permitted to make sacrifices 
and offerings, but among both the Egyptians and the 
Jews, the privilege of burning incense was reserved 
for priests of high rank. The Egyptian priests en- 
gaged in this task are generally represented as wesring 
a leopard's akin, to which, from various indications 
on the monumeuta, we are led to conclude that pe< 
caliar sanctity was attached. However that may be, 
it is perfectly clear from all the records, both pictorial 
and historical, that greater importance belonged to 
this solemn act of homage, the offering of incense, 
than to any other ftinction of the sacerdotal office. 
It was on account of the reservation of this privilege 
to Aaron, that Koiah, Datban, and Abiram, rebelled 
against Moses, and accused him of claiming exclusive 
sanctity for himself and hia brother. 

They rote np before Most*, with certain of the children 
of Israel, two hundred and fifty princes of the assembly, 
fomous in the congregation, men of renown : and they 
gathered themselvea together against Moses and agsioat 
Aaron, and said unto them. Ye take too much upon you, 
seeing all the congregation are holy, every one of Ibem, 
and toe Lord is among them : wherefore then lift ye up 
younelvet above the congregation of the Lord ? (Numbers 
xvi. 2, 3.) 

Moses was strack with consternation at their im- 
piety, but he finalljr consented to the test which they 
had BO madly demanded. He permitted them to 
peifbna the set of hom^ which had been ezpnsslr 



reserved for Aaron, when the offering of incense was 
first instituted. The rebellions princes readily ac- 
cepted the test, which, from their former familiarity 
with Egyptian customs^ they knew to be a distm- 
gaishing characteristic of the priestly office. It is, 
indeed, sufficiently clear, from the manner in which 
Moses, made the proposal to these men, so obstinately 
bent on their own destruction, that both he and they 
regarded the oflTering of incense to Jehovah, not only 
as the most honourable office which they could per- 
form, but also as one which, when performed, would 
at once invest than with a sacerdotal character. 

He spake untD Korah and unto all his company, saying, 
Sven to-movrow the Lord will show who are his, and who is 
holy ; and will cause him to come near unto him : even 
him whom he hath chosen will he cause to come near unto 
him. This do; Tiike you censers, Korah, and all his 
company ; and put fire therein, and put incense in them 
before the Lord to-morrow : and it shall be that the man 
whom the Lord doth choose, he shall be holy. (Numbers 
xvL 5 — 7.) 

From this part of the narrative it is abundantly 
evident that the rebellion of Korah and his company 
was not simply an insurrection against Moses, but a 
direct act of treason against the Majesty of the Om- 
nipotent. They not only insulted the vicegerent 
whom Jehovah had selected to lead his chosen people, 
but they attempted to destroy the entire constitution 
established amidst the thunderings and lightnings of 
Sinai, by overthrowing the hereditary priesthood of 
the sons of LevL Their audacious efforts were not 
directed against an isolated part of the system of 
polity which Grod had appointed for the Israelites, 
but against the key-stone of the whole, which, once 
removed, would precipitate the entire edifice into 
mios. It is necessary to take the full view of their 
crime, to calculate all its bearings' and extent, in order 
to form any accurate notion of their daring impiety. 
TTieir fearful punishment need not be related : in the 
words of the Psalmist, — 

The earth opened and swallowed up Dathan, and covered 
the company of Abiram. And a fire was kindled in their 
company; the flame burned up the wicked. (Psalm cvL 
]7» 18.) 

But the importance of the function of offering 
incense was still further attested by the ordinance for 
conunemorating this awful event, and perpetuating 
the remembrance of the dreadful punishment which 
had overtaken daring rebellion and audacious im- 
piety. This commemoration is, indeed, one of the 
strongest attestations of the sanctity required for the 
performance of this act of homage. 

And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto 
£leaxar the son of Aaron the priest, that he take up the 
censers out of the buniing, and scatter thou the fire yonder ; 
for they are hallowed. Tne censers of these sinners against 
their own souls, let them make them broad plates for a 
covering of the altar: for they offered them before the 
lA>tdt therefore they are hallowed : and they shall be a sign 
unto the children of Israel. And Eleazar the priest took 
the brasen censers, wherewith they that were burnt had 
c^ered; and they were made broad plates for a covering of 
the &ltar: to be a memorial unto the children of Israel, 
that no stranger, which is not of the seed of Aaron, come 
ne&r to offer incense before the Lord ; that he be not as 
Korah, and as his company : as the Lord said to him by 
the hand of Moses. (Numbers xzvi. 36 — 40.) 

But even the terrible visitation which they had 
witnessed was insufficient to quell the spirit of revolt 
which had spread through the rebellious congregation 
of IsraeL The evil which Korah, Dathan, and Abi- 
ram had wrought, lived after them, and brought down 
new punishments. It is a singular confirmation of 
what we have previously stated, that the offering of 
incense on this second occasion was invested with 
even greater impoftance than before, for it arrested 

the course of the terrific pestilence which God sent 
to punish the sins of the congregation. This fresh 
attestation of Aaron's priesthood, and wondrous power 
granted to the incense as the distinctive cognizance 
of his sacerdotal office, was an act of omnipotent 
mercy, since it ever after prevented any attempt to 
usurp so sacred a function. 

Imagination cannot conceive a more awful scene 
than the one briefly and simply portrayed by the sacred 
historian, in Numbers zvi. 41—48. The mutinous 
congregation surrounding the chosen brothers, and 
threatening their lives ; — Uie pause of mingled awe and 
terror when the cloud which announced the visible 
presence of Jehovah settled in its glorious radiance on 
the tabernacle of the congregation,— -the sudden and 
wasting pestilence which instantly struck down four* 
teen thousand seven hundred of the mutineers, — the 
trembling haste with which Aaron took fire from the 
altar and laid on incense, — above all, his position 
when standing on the narrow line which severed the 
living from the dead, combine to render this one of 
the most fearfully impressive narratives in Scripture. 

Not only was the offering of incense limited to 
particular persons, but the kind of incense which 
should be used, and the proportions of the ingredients 
in its composition, were distinctly specified. It should 
only be kindled by the sacred fire from the altar; 
Aaron's two sons, Nadab and Abihu, were destroyed 
for burning strange fires in their censers. Hence 
when Isaiah describes the Divine indignation against 
the national sins of Judah, he represents Jehovah 
declaring "incense is an abomination to me," for he 
could use no stronger expression to denote how far the 
transgressions of the Jews had removed them from 
the favour of their father and their God, than the 
rejection of those acts of homage to which the highest 
importance was given under the Mosaic dispensation. 

Among the heathen nations generally, the offering 
of incense was not restricted to the priests, but it was 
always regarded as the most solemn act of homage 
which could be offered to a divinity. Hence in the 
early persecutions of the Christians, the most com- 
mon trial to which the martyrs were subjected, was 
to require them to bum a few grains of incense on 
the altar of an idol ; and the same test' appears to 
have been used when the Syrian kings of the family 
of the Seleucids attempted to force idolatry on the 
Jews in the time of the Maccabees. But on both 
occasions there were multitudes found who refused 
to abjure their true and living faith, but sealed their 
testimony to the truth of that which they had be- 
lieved, by their blood. Thus it may be said that 
there was not a single altar of antiquity on which 
incense was ever offered, that is not a monument 
illustrating the truths of the Bible, attesting the 
Divine origin of Christianity, and proving that it is 
the only religion which has decisively triumphed over 
death and the grave. 

Lbt your desires and aversions to the common objects and 
occurrences in this life be but few and feeble. Make it 
your daily business to moderate your aversions and desires, 
and to govern ^em by reason. This will guard you against 

many a ruffle of spirit, both of anger and sorrow. 


If I were to choose the people with whom I would spend 
my hours of conversation, they should be certainly such as 
laboured no further than to make themselves rradil^ and 
clearly apprehended, and would have patience and curiosity 
to understand me. To have sood sense, and ability to 
express it, are the most essential and necessary qualities in 
companions. When thoughts rise in us fit to utter among 
familiar friends, there needs but very little care in clothing 
them. — Brma 

THB sATURDirifAeiznni, 

[Januaev 5, 



Major Mitchell, the Surveyor-General of New South 
Wales, has recently published a highly-interesting account 
of discoveries made by him in the course of three journeys 
into the interior of that interesting country, undertaken by 
order of the government. The first was in 1831 and 1832, 
to the north-west, in search of a large river called the 
'• Kindur," which had been described by a runaway convict, 
as existing in that direction, and by following which towards 
the S.W., the convict stated he had twice reached the sea. 
The information, however, turned out to be erroneous, and 
is supposed to have been a pure invention of the convict for 
his private ends. Major Mitchell penetrated to the Karaula 
River, (latitude about 29** S., longitude about 149** E.,) 
when he was obliged to return, owing to the hostility of the 
natives. The second expedition was undertaken in 1835, 
for the purpose of exploring the course of the river Darling, 
and was performed in a north-western and western direction, 
until the travellers reached the latitude of about 32^** S., 
and longitude 142^° E., when the molestations of the 
natives again made it advisable to retreat, having, however, 
followed the course of the river for several hundred miles, 
and obtained strong presumptive evidence of its junction 
with the Murray. The third expedition, in 1836, had for 
its object to trace the Darling into the Murray, and to re- 
turn up the latter river, towards that part of the colony 
near Yass Plains. This last expedition was attended with 
highly-successful results ; for although the natives again 
prevented Major Mitchell from obtaining ocular demon- 
stration of the whole course of the Darling, its junction 
with the Murray was sufficiently ascertained, as well as the 
junction of the Lachlan with the Murrumbidjee, and that 
of the latter with the Murray. But this was not all. In- 
stead of returning along the Murray, Mcgor Mitchell took 
a south-eastern course to the sea, and discovered on the 
confines of the South Australian province, a beautiful and 
fertile region, which he describes in terras of enthusiastic 
admiration, and to whicli he gave the name of Australia 
Felix, or the Happy. Having reached the sea between 
Capes Northumberland and Bridgewater, he returned to 
the colony by a new track, parallel to the coast, and within 
the range of mountains called the Australian Alps. 

The present limits of the New South Wales territory ex- 
tend coastwise from abojut the 32nd to the 34th degree of 
south latitude, with a breadth not exceeding 200 miles. 
The portion within which land might be selected was fixed, 
in 1829, at 34,535 square miles, or about 23,000,000 of 
acres, of which Major Mitchell states, only 4,400,000 acres 
have been found worth having, whilst the owners of this 
appropriated land have been obliged to send their cattle 
beyond the limits for the sake of pasturage. The soil is 
good only where trap, limestone, or granite rocks occur, but 
unfortunately sandstone predominates so much as to cover 
about six-sevenths of the whole surface of the territory, and 
there the soil is merely a barren sand, — without turf, and 
the trees subject to conflagrations, which leave behind them 
little vegetable matter. The want of water, and of mois- 
ture, render the country unfit for agriculture, and until a 
well-arranged system of roads can be effected, there will 
be serious impediments in the way of communication 
between the isolated spots of a better description. 

The unproductiveness, upon the whole, of the present 
Colony, induces Major Mitchell to recommend its extension, 
together with the formation of additional lines of communi- 
cation. He proposes that New South Wales should thus 
be made to reach northward to the tropic of Capricorn, 
westward to the 145thdegreeof cast longitude, the southern 
portion having for boundaries the Darling, the Murray, and 
the sea-coast. Even, however, of this extended territory, 
one-fourth part only is stated to be available for pasturage 
or cultivation, — one-third consisting of desert plains, and 
the remainder of rocky mountains and impassable tracts. 
The largest portion of ^ood land is, it seems, to be found to 
the southward of the Murray, which is better supplied with 
water, the mountains being higher, and the rocks more 
varied, with a vast extent of open grassy downs. . In this 
quarter lies the region which, says Major Mitchell, " we 
traversed in two directions, with heavy carts, meeting no 
other obstruction than the softness of the rich soil ; and in 
returning over flowery plains and green hills, fanned by the 
breezes of early spring, I named it Australia Felix, the 
better to distinguish it from the parched deserts of the in- 
terior, where we had wandered so un profitably, and so long.** 

The boundaries of our autlior*8 paradise arc not very pre- 
cisely laid down, but it may be stated to lie between the 
36th parallel of south latitude and the sea, and between the 
14l8t and 145th degrees of east longitude. It is> conse- 
quently, close to the South Australian Province. It com- 
prises an elevated range of hills, (the Grampians,) the height 
of which, at one point, was found to reach 4500 feet, from 
whence many small rivers radiate ; and one large river, 
**the Glenelg,' b navigable for a considerable distance, and 
would be a most valuable means of communication, if 
the sand which unfortunately at present chokes up its 
mouth could be remoyed, sojis to effect a free passage into 
the sea. Lofty timber, some tracts of rich black soil, and 
in general very fine grassy plains, are among the recom- 
mendations of this fertile country. 

How far it may be expedient to enlarge the New South 
Wales colony, as suggested by Major Mitchell, is a question 
on which opinions may differ ; and it may be somewhat 
premature to consider the best mode of governiog a future 
settlement to the south of the Murray, whilst the eligibility 
of that district for colonization has only just become known 
in England. But little doubt can be entertained that the 
stream of emigration must before long flow into a country 
so desirable in itself as Australia Felix, and so conveniently 
situated for profiting by the advancing civilization and 
prosperity of the South Australian province. Our only 
immediate anxiety is, that this fair portion of Australia 
should be preserved from the taint of a convict population ; 
and although Major Mitchell lays so great stress upon the 
advantages arising from the employment of convicts on 
public works, he seems, from the tenour of his evidence 
before the Transportation Committee, to be fully aware of 
those serious objections on moral grounds, which ought at 
least to preclude the introduction of convicts inio any new 
settlements. If the plan of the extension of the Now 
South Wales territory were to depend in any degree upon 
the planting of convicts in new districts, that of itself would 
be a decisive reason against such a measure. 

We subjoin some interesting extracts. The author 
speaks at times with enthusiasm, but not so much so as to 
lead us to suspect exaggeration ; and his narrative, written 
at the time, is clear and intelligible throughout. Without 
an ardent spirit, who could undergo the toils and privations 
inseparable from such an undertaking ? 

A Garden at Paramatta. 

My first day *s journey terminated at the residence of 
my friend, Mr. John Macarthur, near Paramatta. I was 
received by that gentleman with his usual hospitality, and 
although not in the enjoyment of the best health, he insisted 
on accompanying me over his extensive and beautiful gar- 
den, where he pointed out to my attention the first olive-tree 
ever planted in Australia. Here I also saw the cork-tree 
in full luxuriance — the caper-plant growing amidst rocks 
— the English oak — the horse-chestnut — broom — magnifi- 
cent mulberry-trees of thirty-five yeai-s' growth, umbrageous 
and green. Beds of roses, in great variety, were spread 
around, and filled the air with fragrance, while the climbing 
species of that beautiful flower was equally pleasing to the 
eye. 1 observed convict Greeks (pirates) — ** acti fatis"' — at 
work in that garden of the antipodes, training the vines to 
trellises made after the fashion of those in the Peloponne- 
sus. The state of the orange-trees, flourishing in the form 
of cones sixteen feet high, and loaded with fruit, was very 
remarkable, as they had risen from the roots of former 
trees, which having been reduced to bare pol^s by a drought 
of three years* duration, had been cut off, and were now 
succeeded by these vigorous products of more genial sea- 
sons. Mr. Macarthur assured me, that by adopting this 
plan, many fruit-trees, after suffering from the effects of 
long-continued drought, might be renovated successfully. 
The want of moisture in the climate of Australia, may oc- 
casionally compel the gardener to resort to such extreme 
measures for the preservation of his trees : but the orange 
has hitherto yielded a very profitable and constant return to 
those who have attended to its cultivation in this colony. 
The luxuriant growth of the apple and pear in a climate so 
dry and warm, is a remarkable fact ; and when we consider 
the exuberance of the vine in the few spots where it has as 
yet been planted, the variety of soil and aspect still unbroken 
in these southern" regions, may well justify the expectation 
that many a curious or luxurious wine, still unknown, may 
in time be produced there. 

But the garden, to him who sees a home in distant colo- 
nies, must ever be an object of peculiar interest; for there 



while cultivating the fruits and flowers of his native land, 
the recoltection of early days, and the country of his birth, 
are awakened by the vivid colours of the simple flower 
which his industry has reared, and which he knows to be a 
native of the soil to which he himself owes his existence. 

Choice of FARits. Tbb Wollombi. 

In a climate so dry as that of Australia, the selection 
of farm-land depends solely on the direction of streams, for 
it is only in the beds of water-courses that any ponds can 
be found during dry seasons. The fbrmation of reservoirs 
has not been yet resorted to, although the accidental large- 
nest of ponds left in such channels has frequently deter- 
mined settlers in their choice of a homestead, when by a 
little labour, a pond equally good might have been made in 
other parts, which few would select from the want of water. 
In the rocky gullies that I had passed in these mountains, 
there was, prol)ably, no want of water, but then there was 
no land fit for the purposes of farming. In other situations, 
on the contrary, there might be found abundance of good 
soil considered unavailable for any purpose except grazing, 
only from the want of * frontage ' (as it is termed,) on a 
river, or chain of ponds. Selections have been frequently 
made of Farms, which have thus excluded extensive tracts 
behind them from the water, and which, remaining conse- 
quently unoccupied, have continued accessible only to the 
sheep or cattle of the possessor of the water-frontage. 

In these valleys of the Upper Wollombi we find but 
little breadth of alluvial soil, but the water never fails, and 
this has already attracted settlers to its banks — and those 
small farmers who live on a field or two of maize or pota- 
toes — and who are the only beginning of an agricultural 
population, as yet apparent, in New South Wales — show a 
disposition to nestle in any available corner there. But on 
the lower portion of the Wollombi, where the valley widens, 
and water becomes less abundant, in the sandy soil, I found 
it impossible to locate some veterans on small farms which 
I had marked out for them, because it was known that in 
dry seasons, although each farm had frontage in the Wol- 
lombi Brook, very few ponds remained in that part of its 

A Sea of Mud (near the River Gwydir). 

The soil, as from experience we had reason to expect, 
had become very soft, and the rain pouring in torrents, 
sr>flenod the surface more and more. The wheels, however, 
did go round, and the party followed me over a plain, which 
scarcely supported even a tuft of grass on which I could fix 
my eye in steering by compass through the heavy rain. 
At length, I distinguished through the liquid medium, half 
a doEen trees, towards which we toiled for several hours, 
and which srow, as w& found when we at length got to 
them, beside a pond of water; the only one to be seen on 
these plains. There was also some grass beside the pond, 
and we encamped on its bank, placing the carts in a Une, 
at right angles to the trees, thus taking possession of all the 
cover from an attack that could be found. We had 
travelled eight miles over the open plain in a straight line, 
and considering the state of the earth, I was surprised that 
the cattle made any progress through it. When the clouds 
drew up a little, T was not sorry to discover that the plain 
was clear of wood to a considerable distance on all sides, nor 
to recognise some of the hills overlooking our old route. 
According to the bearings of several of these, I found that 
the plundered camp was only seventeen miles distant, the 
g-round was so soft that we could not move further with the 
carts, until fair weather had again rendered it passable, 
and under these circumstances I resolved to halt the 
party here, until after my intended excursion to BombelU's 

Feb. 16.— The rain poured from a sky that might have 
alarmed Noah. The ground became a sea of mud ; even 
within our tents we sank to the knees, no one could move 
about with shoes^ — the men accordingly waded about bare- 
footed. The water in the pond was also converted into mud. 
Gfound-crickets of an undescribed species — which perhaps 
va^j be called GryUoialpa Auitralis-^eame out of the earth 
in great numbers. 

Results op the First Expedition. 

This journey of diseorery proved that any large river 
flowins to the north-west, must be far to the northward of 
the latitude of 29^ All the rivers south of that parallel, and 
vhich hud been descrlDedby the Barber as falluaginto such 

a river as ' the Kindur/ have been ascertained to belong 
wholly to the basin of the Durhng. 

The country we traversed was very eligible in many 
parts, for the formation of grazing establishments — as a 
proof of which it may be mentioned that flocks of sheep 
soon covered the plains of Mulluba, and that country 
around the Barber s stockyard has, ever since the return of 
the expedition, been occupied by the cattle of Sir John 
Jamicflon. At a still greater distance from the settled dis- 
tricts, much valuable land will be found around the base of 
the NundawHr Range. The region beyond these moun- 
tains, or between them and the Gwydir, is beautiful, and in 
the vicinity, or within sight, of the hi^h land, it is suffi- 
ciently well watered to become an important addition to the 
pastoral capabilities of New South Wales. 



I. Divisions of Time. 

In the dawn of society, when man had not yet 
entered upon that career of activity which the deve- 
lopement of mind, the ties of social life^ and the 
gradual growth of his wants and wishes, rendered 
necessary, the progress of time was not an occurrence 
of paramount importance to him. The day was quite 
long enough to enable him to cultivate and gather 
the produce of the ground, or to hunt and appro- 
priate for purposes of food the animals around him. 
From these he obtained food and clothing; and thus 
his wants^ limited in extent^ were easily supplied. 

But wheniincrease of population rendered necessary 
the search for new regions, and when the mental tastes 
of men began to multiply the number and variety of 
their employments, it was found necessary to mark 
the course of time; to distinguish those periods of 
the year when the fruits of the soil were in a fit state 
for food; those periods in which the rainy season 
occurred; and (among those nations which were 
further removed from the equator) those periods when 
cold blighted the verdure of the trees and flowers. 
Thus an observance of annual seasons sprang up, 
long before anything was known of the astronomical 
causes of those seasons. 

But it was moreover necessary to divide the day 
into smaller portions. Men perceived that night 
succeeded day with great regularity; and they could 
not have been long in observing that when the day- 
light was shorter in duration, the night was propor- 
tionably lengthened; and that, conversely, when in 
summer the day-light was prolonged, the nights were 
accordingly shortened — the day and night together 
forming a period of time (nearly) equal at every part 
of the year, and in every country. This statement is 
true with respect to the countries occupied in the 
early stages of society; all of which were within a 
few degrees of the extreme latitudes of the Mediter- 
ranean sea : but the inhabitants of those comparatively 
small portions of land situated at a higher latitude 
than 66^^ experience no night at all at Midsummer, 
and suffer a complete deprivation of daylight at Mid- 
winter. This becomes more marked, as we approach 
nearer to the poles. The sun does not shine on the 
north pole from the twenty-first of September to the 
twenty-first of March, with a small exception, (due to 
atmospheric refraction,) at the limits of that period; 
but from the twenty-first ojf March to the twenty-first 
of September the sun never sets to the north pole. 
Clouds and fogs may obscure his rays, but he is con- 
stantly above the horizon. It follows from this that 
there is but one night and one day in a whole year 
at the north pole, each having a duration of six 
months. The same conditions obtain at the south 
pole, excepting that the times are reversed^ suwvTaKt^ 
or day, (for in. this c«a^ tYi^a^ Vacui'a ^^^^Wi^«ilCM» 



[January 5, 1839 

into each other,) occurring at the south pole, when it 
18 winter, or night, at the north. The vuiinterrupted 
deprestion of the sun below the horizon at Midwinter 
occurs in latitude 66^^ for a period of only three or 
four days; while, as we have seen, this continued 
depression lasts for six months at the poles. It neces- 
sarily results that intermediate latitudes experience a 
Midwinter darkness, increasing in duration as we 
approach the pole. These nocturnal days, (if we may 
be allowed the term,) are, for five or six different 
latitudes, as follows : viz. — 

In latitude 66^'' North, from Dec. 20 to Dec 23 
70 M Nov. 22 Jan. 20 

75 ,9 Nov. 3 Feb. 7 

80 ., Oct. 19 Feb. 22 

85 ,• Oct 6 Mar. 7 

90 (or at the pole) Sep. 21 Mar. 21 

We must observe, however, that at the limits of 
each of these periods there is a very long twilight. 
The sun is not above the horizon, but he is so nearly 
on a level with it, that for many successive hours, 
(and, near the pole, for many successive days,) the 
light yielded is equivalent to that which just precedes 
sunrise in our own climate. 

This continued absence of the sun is wholly due to 
the obliquity of the equator to the ecliptic; that is, 
the eaHh*s motion round her axis, is not in the same 
plane as her moUon round the sun, but is inclined to 
it at an angle of 23^^, as may be observed in the 
annexed figure. 

At each of the four representations of the earth 
performing its annual journey, let n b represent its 
axis, and x a the equator, o being the sun. If the 
earth's motion round its axis be in the plane of its 
orbit, E Q would coincide with the orbital line, and n s 
would be at right angles with it. The seasons, and 
days and nights, woyld remain constant all over the 
world i for the sun would always shine perpendicu- 
larly to the equator. But, as it is, we observe at 
one time of the year the north pole wholly en- 
lightened, and the south pole in darkness : this is our 
9ummer. At another time of the year, the north pole 
is dark, and the south pole is light : this is our winter. 
The intermediate states are spring and autumn. 

Such then is the case with reference to the regions 
within the arctic and antarctic circles, which surround 
the poles, the former the northern, and the latter the 
southern, at a distance of 23^^. But in the times of 
the ancient Babylonians and Egyptians, these polar 
regions were unknown, and consequently there was 
no deviation from the rule,' that the duration of an 
artificial day (the time that the sun is above the hori* 
zon) added to the following night, made an equal 
quantity at all times of the year. Subsequent olmer- 
vations have, however, detected a deviation, which 
comes properly under the subject of Equation of Time, 
to which we shall allude hereafter. 

da period, then, the natural day, or one whol 
revolution of the earth with respect to the suu, th( 
ancients wished to divide into smaller portions, t( 
indicate the times of recurrence of similar employ 
ments or ceremonies on each successive day. Tht 
boundary of one such portion was the instant that thi 
sun attained his greatest elevation in the heavens 
that moment was exactly midway between the pre- 
ceding and the following nights. The moment o: 
greatest darkness, or when the sun has his greatest 
depression below the horizon, was found to be just 
half a natural day after his greatest height above it 
Thus midday and midnight formed two convenient 
boundaries, by .which the day could be divided intc 
two equal parts. Those parts were each subdivided 
into two portions, by noticing the times when the 
sun rose in the morning, and set in the evening. Id 
the latitude of Great Britain considerable difference is 
observed in these hours at different parts of the year; 
the sun rising in Midsummer before four o'clock, and 
in Midwinter not till after eight o*clock : the setting 
of the sun being in a corresponding manner variable. 
But in the countries which were first peopled, such as 
Mesopotamia, Persia, Egypt, Syria, &c., the hour ol 
sunrise is not subject to so much variation. Tht 
length of daylight, therefore, although unequal 
throughout the year, is not so much so as with us 
Thus arose four nearly equidistant points of division 
midrnght, sunriie, midday, and muuat. 

Tfa^se natural divisions of a day formed the ground- 
woik of all diurnal arrangements among t£s earl) 
nations. The Jews reckonoi their dajrs h^nn evening 
to evening; the time of sunset being considered the 
beginning of each day. But as sunset (as we have 
just observed) occurs at different timet in different 
periods of the year, the beginning of their day neces- 
sarily varied. The time of sunset in Judaea is abou 
five o'clock at Midwinter, and about seven o'clock ai 
Midsummer, which makes a difference of two hour 
in the point from which they commenced their day. 

It was not until a subsequent period that hour, 
irtrt introduced among the Jews -, for it would appea 
firom a passage in Nehemiab, chap. ix. v. 3, that tht 
civil day was, about 450 b. c, divided into four parts 
Again, David, in Psalm lv., ver. 1 7, speaks of evening 
and morning and noon, as if they were stated point 
of division in the day. 

The caprices of the wind are the hourly and proverbia 
subject of remark, and, not seldom, of thoughtless com 
plaint. Even for these, however, there are causes, thoug] 
we know them not ; and in every caprice or change there i 
a benefit for some one. Had man possessed the powe 
which fable has sometimes assigned nim, could he hav< 
regulated them so well; capricious and causeless as the; 
mav seem ? But there is a peculiarity in the distributioi 
of these apparently capricious winds, which marks a desigi 
in the midst of b\\ this seeming disorder. In the grea 
Trade-wind the design is obvious: it circulates round th< 
globe where the ocean is widest, and is thus the great -ai< 
to the chief highway for the most distant communications 
It is always to be found where it is wanted; while th> 
steadiness of its destinations from the fundamental course 
renders it, in those parts, not less useful. Within th* 
range of those several winds, the navigator requires littlt 
which he cannot accomplish through their aid; while wher 
they become evanescent, the very shores which he desire 
to reach or to navigate, begin to act on them and produc 
the variable and l^al winds to aid him. If this be chanc 
or contingency, to the same causes do we owe the tides < 
the narrow seas.— ^Maccullocb. 



PonmsD tm Wublt KfrimaB, rmin Ows Pxwinr, amv w Momthlt Pabi 

Pbioi Sixraici. 

.8^ by lU BookMUtn s&A NewiTendfrt ia tht Klagdom. 


Bttiitt or cui,iMaFoiu) c 

CiiiiircpoBD is a amall sea-port tovn, in the 
p««ih of the same name, in the barony of Lower 
Dundalk, in the county of Lonth, and the province 
of Lejaster. It stands at the foot of an exteasive 
lange of mountains, and on the aonth-eastem side of 
the tpacioos and beautiful inlet, called Carhngford 
Bif ; it hea to the north of Dublin, at a distance of 
Mventy-five miles. The origin of the town is com- 
monly traced to the erection of the castle, whose ruins 
form so conspicuous a feature of the place at the pre- 
KDt day } this edifice, which is called Carlingford 
Cutle and King's Castle, is generally said to have 
Iwu built by order of King John, when be was in 
tliis kingdom, about the year 1210. It was an im- 
portant station during the early ages of the English 
dominion in Ireland ; and although it was never 
ngularly fortified, or even surronnded by a wall, it 
wi a place of strength, from the circumstance of 
ncry house of any importance in it being a small 
fbrtrets or castle, fully capable of resisting a sudden 
*tUck. Its position upon the frontiers of the English 
pie necessarily exposed it to frequent dangers. 

The ruins of Carlingford Castle at the present day 
■R among the finest in Ireland. Thomas Wright, in 
hii Lovthiana, (bus describes its appearance in the 
liller part of the last century : — 

Formerly it must have been a vary fine pile of build- 
ing, and teems, by its situation, designed to deleod a 

Vol- XIT. 

narrow pass at the fool of toe mountains, close by the sea ^ 
where but a very fuw men can march abreast, dangerous 
rocks and a deep sea being below on one side, and very high 
mountains on the other, the least 700 yards perpendicular. 
The foundation of it is a solid rock, washed by the sea, and 
some of the walls are eleven feet thick. On one side of it 
there appears to have been a platform or battery, which soma 
time or other may have been adapted for the defence of 
the harbour, which is ono of the Gnest in Ireland. The old 
town of Carlingford sceros to have been originally all small 
castles, which appears to have beeci the common kind of 
habitations in this country, and the manner of building in 
those days ; Dundalk formerly having also been full of th« 
like sort of dwellings. 

On the southern side of the town, or that opposite 
to the side on which the castle stands, are the mins 
of a Dominican monastery, of the date, as is generally 
supposed, of the fourteenth century ; a religion! 
house of that order was established here by Richard 
de Burgh, Earl of Ulster, in the year 1305. In the 
thirty-fourth year of the reign of Henry the Eighth, 
"the prior was found seised of a church and belfiy, 
chapter-house, dormitory, hall, kitchen, and other 
buildings ; one acre, one park, one close, seven mes- 
suages, and a water-mill, with their appurtenances, in 
the vill of Carlingford, of the annual value, besides all 
reprises, of 41. Cs. 8d," 

Before the union, Carlingford returned two mem- 
bers to the Irish House of Commons. The popula- 
tion of the town is dow I30O, and that of the parish 



[January 12, 

near 10,000. TJpTTBrds of 2000 hands are engaged infhf 
fishery ; the oysters taken at Carlingford are celebrated 
for their ddJciuiu flaTour, even in the metropolis ot 
Ireland. The water in the extensive bay is deep, bnl 
unfortunately the entrance is obstructed by hidden 
rodu, which render the navigation dangerous foi 
veaseb even of moderate size ; the linen and butter 
which the town exports are thus conveyed in small 
craft entirely. 

The scenery of the bay is, however, described as 
of the most enchanting description; its shores being 
decorated with attrnctive villages, numerous bathing 
lodges, and agreeable cottages ; " behind which some 
mountains rise, infinitely varied through all their 
elevation ; here waving with ornamental woods, there 
glowing with heath or verdure i on the one side bat- 
tlemented with a gray expanse of rocks, on the other 
exhibiting the industrious extensions of cultivation." 
The raonntain overhanging King John's castle is 
about 1850 feet in height ; and it is " by reason of its 
position and height," to use the language of Mr. 
Wright, that " the inhabitants of this town, great 
part of the summer season, lose sight of the sun 
several hours before he sets iu the natural horizon." 
Carlingfurd mjuys also a celebrity arising from 
Bnother aannc. In the early part of the last cestsry 
the mountains in its neighboarhood afforded a retreat 
to Redmond O'HauIon, one of the most distinguished 
" Rapparers " that Ireland has produced. It is, of 
coarse, not our intention to entertain our readers with 
a narrative of the exploits of this redoubted hero ; 
but, as it is impossible to read the Irish history satis- 
factorily — (especially of that important period which 
immediately followed the expulsion of James the Se- 
cond from England) — witbont knowing what the 
Rapparees were, we shall give a short account of 
them. In spealdng of the Rapparees it is impossible 
to avoid some mention of a kindred class — called Toritt 
— who make an equally important figure in an earlier 
page of the history of Ireland. It is scarcely neces- 
sary to iuform our readers that the lawless bands 
whose exploits are here described, were a very different 
dasa of persons from those friends of religion and 
order who, in modern times, have been distinguished 
by the same name, and that eonsequentlj' the sense 
in which the word Tories occurs in this portion of 
Irish history, is the very reverse of that uhich it has 
borne in this country for the last hundred and fifty 
years, as the designation of a political party. 

The epithet, Tory, is supposed to have originated 
in the civil wars which desolated Ireland, during the 
reign of Elizabeth, and was applied only to the pea- 
santry. Sir Richard Cox, in his history of Ireland, 
■peaking of Sir Henry Sydney, the Lord Deputy, iu 
1575, says ; — 

It is obsen'able of (his (;reat good man, that although 
he did most excellent serriee in Ireland, yet he was but ill 
rewarded for it in England ; and therefore ho was nilh 
great ditficully prevailed with to accept the Rovernment 
this sevenlh and last time ; for (as he cxpresacd himself in 
his letter) he ouraed, hated, and duIcEtcd Irelund abare all 
other counlriijs ; nut ihot he bad any dislike of the country, 
but that it was most diHicuU to do anv servira there, where 
a man must utrugale with famine and fastnesses, inacces- 
sible bo^s, and liifht-fuoted Tories; and yet when tiiese 
and all other difficulties were surmounled, no service in the 
world was less reputed, valued, or requited than that. 

Among the measures which Sir Henry Sydney took, 
was the following, as related by Cox ; — 

And the better to discover vagabonds and Tories, every 
ffemleinan was eomtnanded to give in a list of his depend- 
ents, and Iu onswcT fur litem : and proclamation was made, 
thai o\ety i<llcr, that was not named in one of Uiose lists, 
should be jiuuislicil as a felon and a \a|^abond, to which 
the Irish lords and gcnilenicn gave Ibeir 

seeming joy; end every one of them gave in pledges of 
liis loyalty to the Lord Dspufy, 

Tories, robbers, and rapparees were often joined to- 
gether in Irish acts of Parliament. Malme says that 
the term is derived from an Irish word toree — "give me 
[your money]." The character of the Tories is thus 
noticed by Glanville, in one of his sermons, lung be- 
fore the political distinction existed, " Let such men 
quit all pretences to civility and breeding j they are 
ruder than Toryes and wild Americans." 

During the Irish rebellion of 1641, this name was 
bestowed on such individuals as at first professed to 
remain neutral in the contest, but who, ultimately, per- 
haps urged by the loss of their property and their con- 
sequent distress, took up arms with a view of reprisal 
or revenge on those by whom they had been reduced 
to absolute ruin. English and Irish, Proteatant and 
Catholic, Republican and Loyalist, were alike their 
common enemies; and Tories, being joined by men of 
desperate fortunes, united themselves into bodies ; and, 
in fact, became formidable gang* of freebooters, who 
harassed the regular troops of all parties withont dis- 
tinction. The name, therefure, was one at reproach, 
and "Tory-hunting" was almost ricwed in the light 
of a pasti me. An old rhyme, in dlwion to this sport, 
is still orally current in the south of Ireland, and a 
decided favonrite in the nursery coUeetioo, 

Hoi Master Teagw—wbat is 7«n«t«^r 
I went to tbe wood and I kiDed a Tory. 
I went to the wood and I billed Kiotbev. 
Wag it the Mine, or was it tda brother t 
J fcamted haa in and I hunted him oat. 
Three times Ihrevgh the h«f, ahout end abont ; 
When oitl of a hiab I saw hn be^ 
BttI tni mjgaa ^ki I drat him iliiT 
The Rsppnves are posterior, in the order of time, 
to the Tories. Todd, is bis editioB of Johnson's 
Dictionary, tbos explains the mesning af the word 
Rapparee :— 

A witd Irish plunderar, sa called. Mr. Malme says, from 
his being armed with a half-pike, termed by the Irish a. 
raptry. Jn an aceoual of General Blakeney, which I have 
read, I find, however, that 'from a weapon, shaped like a 
rake, called a ropp, which [buch persons] carried instead of 
X spear, they were called rapparee!.' 

C<ix, in " an Explanatory Indei: of some Quota . 
;ions and Terms," attached to his HibernJa Angli- 
;ana, which was published in 1692, has the following 
lefinitioD ; — 

Itaporeea, the rabble of the Irish, who are armed with 
I half-pike, which they call a rapery, and have plundered 
he English in all parts of the kiiigdom. 

The name seems to have been first used in the war 
wbich followed the Revolution of 1 688, when James 
;he Second, after bis Sight from England, attempted 
M make a stand in Ireland. 

Bishop Burnet, relating the events of 1690, in his 
History of hit ovn Timet, aslya, after describing the 
Tiising of the siege of Limerick by the forces of King 
nrilliam, and the departure of the French allies of 
lames from Ireland, 

In the meanwhile the Irish formed themselves into 
nany bodies, which, by a new name, were called Rupparees ; 
hese knowing all ways, and the bogs and oilier places of 
■etrcit in Ireland, and being favoured by the Irish that bad 
lubmitted to the king, robbed and burnt houses in many 
places of the country; while the king's army studied their 
iwn ease in their quarters, more than the protection of the 
nhabitanta : many of them were suspected of robbing in 
ibeir turn, though the Rapparees carried the blame of all 
between them the poor inhabit an la had a sod time. ;iiid 
heir slock of cattle and corn was almost quite deairuji'd lu 
nany places. 

On another occasion, in the same year, he savn : 

Great complaints were brought orct from Ireland, where 
ho king's army was almost as heavy as the Rapparees were. 




Mr. Crofton Croker eays, that Rapparee has much 
the same meaning as Tory, and that it is derived ^rom 
an Irish word signifying a half-stick or broken beam^ 
resembling a half-pike, from whence the name was 
given to such as carried this weapon, and did not 
belong to the regular troops of either army, but pro- 
vided themselves, in the best way they could, with 
pikes, daggers, or skeins, and such instruments of 
offence as could be readily manufactured. It seems, 
however, that the Tories, in the reign of Charles the 
First, received originally some provocation, and that 
their conduct can be better vindicated than that of 
the Rapparees of William's days. It is asserted, and 
with strong claims to belief, that the Irish com- 
manders of the army which supported the cause of 
James the Second, after his expulsion from England, 
encouraged, by written protections, the Rapparees to 
surprise and plunder the straggling and detached 
parties of William's forces ; particularly during the 
Vmter, when general hostilities were suspended -, by 
vb\ch means they not only harassed them extremely, 
but accumulated a supply of horses and muskets, 
that enabled* the Irish to bring an additional number 
of men into the field the ensuing season. 

The author of a work in titled The State of the Pro- 
testants of Ireland, under the late King Jameses govern- 
tfient, SfC, published in 1691, and generally attributed 
to Dr. William King, Bishop of Derry, and after- 
wards Archbishop of Dublin, gives the name of Rap- 
parees to the levies made by James the Second, in 
Ireland, upon his expulsion from England. After 
expatiating upon James's design, to destroy the Pro- 
testant religion, he proceeds to show " King James's 
actual progress in our destruction -,*' and among other 
measures of James, refers to his disbanding of the 
old army, which he found at his accession, and col- 
lecting a new one. He narrates its effects in Ireland 
while James remained on the throne, and before the 
arrival of William and his Dutch army : 

But when (he adds) the descent was made by his present 
majesty into England, things grew yet more troublesome. 
The Protestants were every where robbed and plundered. 
The new commissioned officers and their soldiers, under the 
new name of Rapperies, committed many outrages and 
deTa&tations on their Protestant neighbours; insomuch 
that they could not be safe in their houses. If any endea- 
voured to keep their houses, though merely to secure them- 
iehes horn the robbers and Tories, immediately they were 
besieged; and though they surrendered tliem selves as soon 
as siunmoned, havinir no design to resist authority, and put 
theiDselves into the hands of King James's officers, upon 
promise of freedom, nay, or articles, yet afterward they were 
imprisoned and prosecuted, as Mr. Price, of Wicklow. 
Some of them condemned and executed. 

The same writer makes it a principal ground of 
complaint against King James, that the new levies 
which he raised in Ireland, when the Prince of Orange 
landed in England, were principally old rebels, Tories, 
aad robbers : 

All the scum and rascality of the kingdom were made 
officers; every where the Papists armed and enlisted 
themselves, and the priests suffered no man to come to 
mass that did not arm himself with, at least, a skean and 

a half-pike, [the Rapparees' weapon] Most of 

them were the sons or descendants of rebels, in 1641, who 
had luurdered so many Protestants. Many were outlawed 
and condemned persons, that had lived by torying and 
robbing. No less than fourteen notorious Tories were offi- 
cers in Cormuck 6 NeaVs regiment; and when forty or 
fi% thousand such were put into arms, without any money 
to pay them, we must leave the world to judge what appre- 
hensions this must breed in Protestants, and whether they 
hid not reason to fear the destruction that immddiately fell 
CQ them. They saw their enemies in arms, and their own 
lives in their power. They saw their goods at the mercy 
of ihose thieves, and robbers, and Tories, now armed and 
iuthoiued, lh»n whom they could scarce keep them^ when 
it wai in a«r power to panae and hang them. 

These last lines contain an evident allusion to the 
sport of "Tory-hunting." 

When a Rapparee became a prisoner he had no 
hope of mercy -, the gallows or a bullet instantly ter- 
minated his existence. The necessity, however, as 
Mr. Crofton Croker observes, is obvious, that no 
quarter should be given to men who lurked in am- 
bush, ready to spring on their prey at every favour-^ 
able opportunity, and whose acquaintance with the 
country enabled them to lie concealed in the most 
artful and treacherous manner. But to this unfor- 
tunate necessity it is to be feared that many innocent 
persons fell victims ; for in those indiscriminating 
times, very little trouble was taken by either party to 
ascertain the guilt of an individual, so long as he was 
obnoxious ; and in all probability many of the simple 
peasantry were punished, as being Rapparees, when 
they had no title whatever to that distinction. In- 
deed this is plainly stated to be the case by a con- 
temporary writer, in An Answer to Dr. King's work, 
already quoted, which is generally attributed to Mr. 
Charles Leslie, who had rendered himself conspicuous 
as a staunch supporter of the Protestant interest in 
Ireland ; although, on the accession of William and 
Mary, he refused to acknowledge their supremacy, 
and became one of the heads of the non-juring in- 
terest. After citing some instances of what he styles 
the breach of the Articles of Cork and Limerick, he 
adds : — 

But the vast number of poor harmless natives who were 
daily killed up and down the fields, as they were following 
their labour, or taken out of their beds and hanged, or 
shot immediately for Rapparees, is a most terrible scandal 
to the government, which the Protestants themselves do 
loudly attest; and many of the country gentlemen, as like- 
wise several officers, even of King William's army, who 
had more bowels or justice than the rest, did abhor to see 
what small evidence, or even presumption, was thought 
sufficient to condemn men for Rapparees, and what sport 
they made to hang up poor Irish people by dozens, almost 
without pains to examine them ; they hardly thought them 
humane kind! 

The tactics of the Rapparees, if we may use the 
expression, arc exposed in the following passage, from 
an old writer ; it will be seen at once that they had 
no title whatever to the name and privileges of a fair 
and open enemy : 

When the Rapparees have no mind to show themselves 
upon the bo<;s, they commonly sink down between tWo or 
three little hills, grown over with lon^ grass: so that yoa 
may as soon find a hare as one of them. They conceal 
their arms thus : — they take otF the lock and put it in their 
pocket, or hide it in some dry place ; they stop the mussle 
close with a cork, and the touch-hole with a small quill, 
and then throw the piece itself into a running water or 
pond ; you may sec an hundred of them without arms, who 
look like the poorest humblest slaves in the world, and you 
mav search till you are weary before you find one gun ; 
and yet, when they have a mind to do mischief, they can 
all be ready on an hour's warning, for every one knows 
where to go and fulch his own arms, though you do not. 

This acccount has been ridiculed by some writers, 
but Mr. Crofton Croker sees no reason to question 
its accuracy, "as during the years 1793 and 1794, the 
disaffected in the north of Ireland concealed both 
themselves and their arms, from the soldiery sent to 
disperse their meetings, in a similar manner." 

In the Military Articles which were agreed upon 
between the commanders of the English and Irish 
armies, immediately after the treaty of Limerick, in 
1691, it was stipulated on behalf of the " Rapparees 
or Volunteers," (for it seems that they preferred call- 
ing themselves by the latter name,) in the same man- 
ner as on behalf of the regular Irish troops, that such 
as were willing to leave the kingdom of Ireland shcmld 
have free liberty to embark, aud ^o \» ^\s^ t^srJi^oXxi 
beyond the Beas, EiUvVaxx^ wad^ ^oVXssi^ «ksys^\fc^ 



[Janxtaiiic 12, 

While the Irish army were embarking, the Lords 
Justices issued a proclamation, offering pardon to 
those Rapparees who should come in within a given 
time, deliver up their arms, take the oath of alle- 
giance, and return quietly to their homes. Those 
who neglected to do so^ might be killed by any one 
who thought proper : and any person who had an 
arm strong enough to engage in so profitable a trade 
was to receive the sum of 40^. for every Rapparee*8 
head that he could produce. 

The Rapparees, however, (says Mr. 0*Driscol,) submitted 
every where, and without hesitation. They had no idea of 
continuing the war on their own account, and were now to 
be seen in great multitudes, traversing the country, and 
driving their flocks and herds before them, as each party 
returned to their own homes. They appeared well fed and 
clothed, and possessed abundance of cattle. 

Bat though as a body they submitted^ and their 
large bands were dispersed, their habits of robbery and 
plunder were not destroyed, and they continued for 
some time to violate the laws, by murders and depre- 
dations of all kinds. The White Serjeant, Galloping 
Hogan, Redmond 0*Hanlon, Ned of the Hills, and 
Iron Mac Kabe^ are the names and titles by which 
some of the most noted Rapparee leaders were dis- 
tinguished. ''A History of the Irish Rogues and 
Rapparees,' * has long been one of the most popular 
books among the peasantry of Ireland, and has cir- 
culated to an extent that seems almost incredible ; we 
are told, too, that it is not unusual to hear the adven- 
tures and escapes of highwaymen and outlaws recited 
by the lower orders with the greatest minuteness, 
and dwelt on with a surprising fondness. Red- 
mond O'Hanlon, the Carlingford hero, is often spoken 
of as the Irish *' Rob Roy,*' and is said to have levied 
his black mail with as much strictness and precision 
as his Scottish rival. 


No. X. 
Centre of Gravity. 

In the last article we stated* that animals arc in the 
constant habit of so adjusting their centre of gravity, 
that the line of direction shall fall within the sup- 
porting base. But the young philosopher may ask, 
what becomes of the centre of gravity, and the point 
of support in a flying bird ? To answer this question 
we must inquire what is meant by flying. 

A bird flying in air is similar to a fish swimming 
in water : the bodies of these animals are well adapted 
to tbeir respective elements : they are wedge-shaped, 
and hence encounter less resistance to their motions : 
the fish is buoyed up in water by a bladder containing 
a peculiar kind of air; and this bladder can, in 
general^ be inflated or exhausted at the will of the 
animal; it is a cruel experiment to puncture the air- 
bladder with a pin ; the air escapes, and the fish, when 
thrown into water, sinks without the power to rise. 
The fins of a fish act as oars, and its tail as a rudder. 
In like manner the bird is furnished with air-cells 
largely distributed through its body: its bones are 
without marrow^ in order that they may be filled 
with air in the act of flying. Previous to flight the 
bird inflates its cells by one or two deep inspirations^ 
spreads out its wings and the feathers of its tail, and 
springs into the air, which it strikes with all its force 
with its wings, and is thus impelled forwards- or up- 
wards in an oblique* direction. Thus the bird con- 
tinues alternately closing and extending its wings : 
devating them when closed, then opening them and 
bringing them down forcibly against the^ air, when 
ihey are again closed, and so on : thus the wings act 

* See Saturday Uagatfinit Volt XIIZ*i p« W>. 

as oars, and the legs .or the tail as the rudder. Hence 
it will be seen that the bird is supported in air by 
the air itself, in consequence of certain mechanical 
actions on the part of the animal, its general light- 
ness and buoyancy, and the resistance of the air to 
the strokes of the bird's wings. When a bird hovers 
in the air its wings are widely extended, so that large 
concave surfaces are presented to the air, whose re- 
sistance opposes the fall of the animal. 

During the flight of a bird, its head, neck, and 
1^, come into action, either to preserve, or to shift 
the position of the centre of gravity 3 and the facility 
with which they do this may often be amusingly ob- 
served. Thus, the Rev. Gilbert White, in one of his 
charming Selbome letters, says : — 

Owls move in a buoyant manner, as if lighter than the 
air; they seem to want ballast There is a peculiarity 
belonging to ravens that must draw the attention even of 
the most incurious— they spend all their leisure time in 
striking and cuffing each other on the wing, in a kind of 
playful skirmish ; and when they move from one place to 
another, frequently turn on their backs with a loud croak, 
and seem to be falling to the ground. When this odd 
gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with 
one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. 

The following figure will show the position of the 
centre of gravity in a bird, in four of its positions ; v 
when it is flying, m when walking, n when swimming, 
and R when asleep with its head under its wing, and 
supported on one leg. 

We have already stated that a number of ingenious 
toys are constructed with especial reference to their 
centre of gravity. When this is below the point of 
support, in a figure, it becomes difficult to upset it, 
and a variety of motions can be imparted to it which 
appear strange and unnatural. So also by so ar- 
ranging the internal mechanism of the figure, that 
the centre of gravity may be constantly shifting 
within certain limits, a progressive motion may be 
communicated, as in the following illustration of a toy 
which tumbles down stairs backwards. 

This toy is an Indian invention. It is called by 
the French a Sautriant, from the French verb sauter, 
to jump. They also call their tumblers and those 
men who throw back summersets, Sauteurs. In 
England this toy is known by the name of the Chinese 




Fig. 3. 

In fig. 2 we have a representation of the internal 
mechanism of the figure; but we will first refer to 
fig. 3, in which the secret of the movements consists. 
A B is a thin piece of wood^ in which^ in the direction 
of its thickness^ two oblique canals, g c, d f, are 
channelled. At each end is a receptacle /y, so formed 
that if the spot c be an axis, and the receptacle y be 
filled with mercury, the part to 
the left of c would be heavier 
than all the wood- work on the 
right of c, in consequence of 
which the wood would tip over 
round the axis passing through 
c. The sides of the receptacles and the canals are 
closed in with card. 

Pieces of wood representing arms are attached to 
the axis d, and other pieces for legs to the axis c. A 
head, a jacket, and trousers, are then added, and we 
get the figure as shown in figs. 2 and A. 

Let us suppose the figure (2) to be on its feet, and 
mercury in the lower receptacle. The top over- 
balances backwards ; the arms swing back, and the 
palms come to rest upon the stair, so that the head 
is lower than the body, but the feet and hands are on 
the same stair. The mercury in c then flows down 
to D, which again throws the centre of gravity below 
the lower axis, and the figure makes another sum- 
merset, alighting on its feet at k on the next lower 

The different parts of the figure are kept together 
by means of silken strings shown in fig. 4 : these 
strings also serve, by their tension, the additional pur- 
pose of helping to* overturn the figure in its descent 
from one stair to another, and to produce a mo- 
mentum which carries the centre of gravity of the 
figure beyond tbe line of direction, so that when the 

mercury, by flowing to the 
lower channel, places the 
figure one step lower, its 
various parts are held toge- 
ther by the silken threads 
in the same position as it 
was on the previous step : 
and thus by repetitions of 
these processes, the figure 
must continue to descend as 
many steps as are provided 
for its exhibition. 

Some skill is required in 
constructing this toy, and 
many niceties of adjustment 
are necessary: the quantity of mercury must bear a 
definite relation to the weight and dimensions of the 
figare. In order to prevent the too rapid descent of 
the mercury, and consequently of the figure, strings 
are stretched across the channels to retard the flow. 
The proper d^^ree of tension of the silken cords is 
important and requires much attention. Indeed, in 
this, as in other similar examples, many an anxious 
honr, and, for aught we know, many an aching head, 
have contributed to the invention or fabrication of a 
toy whose only object is juvenile amusement, which 
being gratified, the toy is broken or thrown aside as 
worthless, without exciting a single inquiry into the 
amount of curious skill, ingenuity, and often, no 
mean powers of invention, which have contributed to 
its production. 

Happiicbss consists in the mnltiplicitjr of agreeable con- 
sciouinefg* A passant has not a capacity for having equal 
happiness with a philosopher: tbey may be equally satisfied^ 
but not eqaally naffv, A small drinking glass and a 
large one mav be equally fiill, but the larger one holds more 



One of the chief objects of reading is to inform the 
mind of pleasing and useful facts 3 to supply it with 
such a share of wholesome food, necessary to it, as 
another kind of food is to the tenement of the mind ; 
that both may grow up together in strength and 
vigour, and fu^ one of the objects for which we were 
created. . 

Knowledge bears with it a train of pleasant asso- 
ciations, wherever and however its possessor may be 
engaged -, and if there is one kind of knowledge more 
useful than another, it is that |7rac/ica/ kind of know- 
ledge which applies to common things : so that, in the 
act of using them, we may be, in imagination, trans- 
ported to other lands ; to the arts of life, which re- 
mind us of our national industry and sources of 
wealth ,' and of all the means for enjoyment, which 
cheer and benefit the innumerable inhabitants of the 
globe. By thus dwelling upon the origin and service 
of common things, which we constantly use, we may 
convert many an idle hour into one of useful recrea- 
tion. To do which, it is not necessary for us to think 
of rare and costly productions. Our object in this 
series of papers is to show that the toilette can supply 
us with many valuable facts, with some science, and 
with general pleasure. Nor let it be apprehended 
that the attention necessary to be given by the reader 
to our account of the " Materials for the Toilette," 
will draw so largely upon his mind, as to interfere 
with the attention necessary to the adornment of his 
person, Wc see no reason why useful and pleasant 
thoughts should not accompany the cares of the 
toilette : we may say that the mind may be reflected 
from the mirror, as well as the outward features 3 
and we feel assured, that the reader will not the less 
admire the reflection, if it should beam upon him or 
her with the bright smile of intelligence. 

We are about to begin this series of Papers with 
what may appear to be a very homely article, viz.. 
Soap : but we may remark that, however homely it 
may be, it is not necessarily vulgar ; he may choose 
what variety of the article his taste diictates. So with 
mental pursuits : there is much of what is called po- 
lite and refined, which is essentially vulgar and worth- 
less 3 and there are many things which the over- 
refined mind would stigmatize as vulgar, which in fact 
are excellent and useful. But we are quite sure that 
our readers do not require this hint to walk in the 
way towards truth. 

On Soap. 

There is a homely, but forcible, expression, (and 
indeed most homely expressions are forcible,) that 
" Cleanliness is next to godliness >** meaning thereby 
that habits of cleanliness, whether in person or do- 
mestic arrangements, tend not only to health of body, 
but to that state of moral feeling, which becomes 
man as the chief creature of the Almighty. One of 
the first acts of mental degradation is neglect of the 
person : — ^filth and rags are always associated with 
misery, and often with vice and crime ; and this re- 
mark applies to nations as well as to individuals -, 
for we find that the nations lowest in the scale of 
civilization, are those which are deprived of political 
freedom, of domestic comfort, and of mental culture. 
A man, even though the most valuable portion of his 
time be devoted to hard labour, if supplied through 
such labour with the means of procuring domestic 
comforts, (provided he have not lost his self-respect 
by vicious habits,} is necessarily an elevated being. 
Labour does not degrade him ; but, on the contrary, 
renders him respected and respectable ; it makes him 
valuable to his country and to himself. VT^ ^^N&ssov 
see such a man d^Jtty, ot Yva iaxoc^^ Vd t«!^\ V^ \>a& 



[January 12, 

that within him, which prodttcei the exalted feeling 
that he is a free man, possessing and enjoying the 
rights and dignity of freedom. 

In the business of paper- making*, the due supply 
of rags is ensured by importing them from various 
parts of the Continent 3 and among the many varieties 
of rags so imported, their condition affords pretty 
clear indications of the state of comfort and cleanli- 
ness in particular districts and countries. The linen 
rags of England are generally very clean -, and require 
little washing, and no bleaching, before they are 
ground into pulp. The Sicilian rags, on the contrary, 
are, originally, so dirty, that they are washed in lime 
before they are fit for the foreign market. Now we 
have only to compare the moral and political state of 
the people of Sicily with that of our own country, to 
be assured of the fact, that, although cleanliness be 
not classed among the virtues, yet it is at least their 

We now proceed to notice the manufacture and 
properties of that very important element in the 
acquisition of cleanliness 3 — viz.. Soap. 

The reader of course knows that, if oil be agitated 
with water, and then set aside for a short time, the 
mixture will separate into two distinct strata — the oil 
being uppermost; and that the one will not combine 
with the other. But if the oil and water be agitated 
with a little caustic alkali, such as soda or pearl-ash, 
(the latter is an impure potash,) the oil and water 
will not separate : — ^a compound is formed, wh^ch we 
call Soap. 

Soap is a compound, in definite proportions, of cer- 
tain principles in oils, fats, or resins, united with an 
alkaline base. When such base is potash or soda, 
the soap is soluble in water, and is useful as a deter- 
gent in washing clothes. Before entering upon the 
details of soap-making, we will give a short account 
of the substances, which enter into its composition. 

The oils have been divided into two great classes, 
the fixed and volatile. The former are so called be- 
cause the temperature at which they boil is generally 
very high, about 600° Fahrenheit ; while the latter 
evaporate at the ordinary temperature of the atmo- 
sphere, or by heat : in which cases they are converted 
into vapour without change or decomposition. But 
the fixed oils cannot be brought to the boiling point, 
or distilled, without being decomposed, and under- 
going very complicated changes. 

Oils are also divided into animal and vegetable, ac- 
cording as their sources belong to either kingdom. 
The general properties of all the fixed oils are pretty 
much the same 3 so that in describing one class the 
same characters may be referred to all the rest. 
These properties have been thus arranged : 1st, the 
Drying oils, which, by exposure to the air, or by sub- 
jection to a certain process, dry into a hard resinous 
substance ; such as linseed, walnut, hemp, castor- 
oils, &c. 2nd. The Greasy oils. 3rd. Concrete oils, or 
vegetable butters, such as cocoa-nut and palm oils, 
bees' wax, &c. For the process of making soap and 
for illumination, animal oils are preferred in this 
country, as being less costly than the vegetable, which 
with some exceptions are imported from abroad. 

The vegetable fixed oils are obtained chiefly by 
pressure from certain seeds 3 such as the almond, the 
olive, linseed, rape, and many others. Such oils are 
said to be expressed, because they are obtained by 
pressing out, and are all lighter than water ; whereas 
some of the essential oils, which are obtained by dis- 
tillation, and partake of the nature of essences, are 
heavier than water. The fixed oils are viscid, and 
almost without taste 3 their colour is generally yel- 
• See Suturday MagasiM, Vol, XIII., p. 117. 

low, which can be removed by filtering them through, 
animal charcoal, or even by exposure to the light 3 in 
which latter case the colour is often restored when 
the oil has been again long in the dark. They con- 
geal at a temperature higher than is required to freeze 
water 3 but a few, such as linseed oil, remain liquid 
at very low temperatures. A few also, such as cocoa- 
nut and palm oil, are solid at ordinary temperatures 3 
and hence are called vegetable butters. 

If oil be congealed by cold, and then pressed 
between blotting paper, a dry concrete frothy matter 
is obtained, called stearine (from a Greek word, sig- 
nifying tallow) 3 the fluid matter which is separated 
does not congeal except at a much lower temperature, 
such as 20^ 3 this fluid is called elainf, (from the Greek 
for oil). It is this substance which gives fluidity to 
all oils. Tlie relative proportions of these substances 
differ in different oils. Cocoa-nut and palm oils are 
advantageously decomposed for the manufacture of 
soap and candles, and for supplying fuel to lamps. 
The stearine supplies the former, and the elaine the 
latter. Elaine does not thicken or become rancid on 
exposure to the air 3 and hence it is well adapted for 
lubricating the wheels of watches and other delicate 
machinery 3 whereas the oils themselves, when ex- 
posed to the air, thicken and become rancid, from the 
production of an acid. A few, such as linseed, nut, 
poppy, and hempseed oils, become covered with a 
pellicle, which, being removed and spread upon a 
surface, hardens into a resinous substance. Such are 
called drying oils 3 and their drying quality is much 
improved by boiling them with a small portion of 
litharge (Protoxide of Lead). Drying oils mixed with 
lamp-black, constitute Printers* ink. 

Another remarkable property of some of the oils is, 
that when exposed to the atmosphere, they absorb 
large quantities of oxygen gas (one of the constituent 
parts of the atmosphere). Saussure exposed nut oil 
to oxygen gas 3 and in ten days it had absorbed sixty 
times its own bulk, and in three months 145 times 
its bulk of the gas 3 the absorption being most rapid 
in warm weather. In some cases, especially where 
drying oils are employed, oxygen is absorbed so 
rapidly, and so much heat is generated during the 
absorption, that combustible materials, such as lamp- 
black, hemp, cotton, &c., may be ignited thereby. 
Substances of this kind, moistened with linseed oil, 
have been known to take fire within twenty-four 
hours 3 and this has often been the cause of extensive 
fires in warehouses and cotton manufactories, where 
the machinery is oiled by means of hemp or cotton- 
wool steeped in oil. These substances, having pro- 
bably been thrown aside among combustible materials, 
have been kindled during the night 3 and hence the 
origin of many disastrous conflagrations. 

All the oils contain much hydrogen 3 hence they 
are all inflammable ; when subjected to a high degree 
of heat they are decomposed, and new substances are 
formed. The mineral acids also exert a powerful, 
action on the fixed oils : sulphuric acid blackens 
them by separating a portion of their carbon 3 nitric 
acid renders them thick and white, and when the 
nitric acid is concentrated, the action is sometimes 
accompanied with flame. 

We have said that soda is the alkali preferred in 
this country for soap-making. The reason is that, 
when potash is employed, the soap always remains 
soft, on account of the great attraction of that alkali 
for moisture. Soda, on the contrary, has a greater 
attraction for the carbonic acid of the atmosphere 
than for its moisture 3 hence pure caustic soda by 
exposure to the air becot^es converted into carbonate 

t Sometimes called OUint ^^^ the Latin word for oil. 




of sodfli This, vhtk fatty naf ters, forms a firm and 
solid soap. We therefore proceed to give a short 
accoaut of the latter alkali. 

Soda is a compooiid of a metallic stthstance called 
gadium and oxygen. Soda, hi nnion with carbonic acid 
gas, called carbonate of soda, is obtained by burning 
various kinds of sea-vegetables, in which it exists in 
an impure state. The ashes being washed in water, 
and this solution evaporated, soda fs obtained. There 
are two kinds of impure soda in commerce, called 
Barilla and Kelp. Barilla- is the ftsfa of the Salsola- 
soda, which is largely cultivated on the Mediterrahean 
coast of Spain. Kelp is the ashes of sea- weeds, 
which are obtained upon many of the rocky coasts of 
Britain. About twenty-four tons of sea- weed produce 
one of kelp. The rough alkali is found mixed with 
chlorides of potassfnm and sodium, and with earthy 
impurities, from which it may, to a certain extent, be 
separated by solution in a small quantity of water, 
and by evaporation at a low beat ; skimming off the 
crystals of chloride of sodium (conrmon salt, of which 
soda is the basis) as they appear on the surface. 

The following short extract from MaccuIloch*s 
"Western Isles" will be found interesting : — 

If this manufacture were once ill understood and worse 
managed, it seems now to have attained all the perfection 
of which it is susceptible. June, July, Aagnst, and part 
of September in each year, form the period of this harvest. 
The drift-weed, thrown on shore by storms, is sometimes 
used ; but if much injured it is rejected* as in this state it 
is found to yield little soda. This kind consists chiefly of 
tangles, as they are here called, or Fucus Saccfaarinus and 
Digitatus, which at all times contain less soda than the 
ba^er species, and are also much better adapted for manure. 
The latter consists chiefly of four, the Serratus, Digitatus, 
Nodosufly and Vesieulosus ; and these are cut at low water 
from the rocks on which they grow. As the value of a kelp 
estate depends on the magnitude of the crop, it is therefore 
regulated by three circumstances, viz., the linear extent of 
the shore, the breadth of the interval between high and low 
water marks (consisting of the length of the ebb, the fall of 
the tide, and the flatness of the beach), and the tranquillity 
of the water, or its shelter from the surga ; to which may 
be added the nature of the rocks, as some kinds are found 
to favour the growth of the plants more than others. It 
bas been attempted to increase the extent of this submarine 
soil, by rolling stones into the water; but I believe the sue- 
ce» has never repaid the expense. On some estates this 
harvest is reaped every second year, on others every third ; 
nor does it seem to be agreed, what are the comparative 
advantages of either practice. 

The weeds being cut by the sickle at low water, are 
brought on shore by a very simple and ingenious pro- 
cess. A rope of heath or birch is laid beyond them, and 
the ends being carried up beyond the high water-marky the 
whole floats as the tide rises, and thus» by shortening 
the rope, is eompelled to settle above the wash of the sea, 
whence it is conveyed to the dry land on horseback. The 
more quickly it is dried, the better is the produce ; and 
wlien dry it is burned in cofiers* generally constrocted with 
stone, sometimes merely excavated in the earth. In Ork- 
ney the Utter are preferred. It has been attempted^ idly 
enough, to introduce kilns ; a refinement of which the ad- 
vantages bear no proportion to the expense ; as in the old 
mode abe kelp forms its own fuel. As twenty-four tons of 
weed, on a medium, are required to form a ton of kelp, it is 
easy to conceive the labour employed for this quantity, in 
the'several processes of cutting, landing, carrying, drying, 
stacking and burning. 

Since Mr. Macculioch wrote, a change has resulted 
fn)m the diminution of the duties on l^rilla and salt, 
by which a better alkali can be produced at a lower 
price than can be obtained from kelp. 

Carbonate of soda has been of late years obtained 
in immense quantities from common salt. This latter 
is a compound of chlorine and sodium. Sulphuric 
acid is added, which unites with the sodium and ex- 
pels the chlorine. The sulphate of soda is, in its 
turn, dccopapoaed by being roasted with saw-dust or 

coal-dust, whereby it is converted hito sulphurct of 
sodium. Sometimes lime is employed to get the 
sulphuric acid from the sodium ; since that acid 
unites more readily with lime than with soda. But 
by roasting the sulphurct, the sulphur is dissipated, 
and the sodium is converted into carbonate of soda, 
— the carbonic acid being derived from the atmo- 
sphere. The carbonate is now dissolved in water 
and crystallized in iron coolers. 

Carbonate of soda is soluble in water. When 
heated, it melts into a transparent liquid more easily 
than carbonate of Potash, and on -this account it ii 
preferred in the manufacture of glass. 

Such, then, being the nature of the ingredients 
which enter into the composition of soap, we will pro- 
ceed, in the next article, tcT show how they are com- 
bined in the manufacture of that substance. 


Faxewell ye gilded follies, pleasing troables ; 

Farewell ye honoured rags, ye glorious babbles ; 

Fame's but a hollow echo, gold pure clay, 

Honour the darling bat of one short day ; 

Beauty, the eye's 3ol, bat a daausked a)±i i 

State bat a golden prison to hve id. 

And torture firee-bom minds ; embroidered trains 

Merely but pageants for proad swelling veins; 

And blood allied to greatness, is alone 

Inherited, nor purchased, nor our awn , 

Fame, honour, beaxzty, state, train, blood and birtli, 
Are bat the fading blossoms of the earth. 

I would be great, but that the son doth still 

Level his rays against the rising hill : 

I woold he high, but see the provdest oak 

Most subject to the rending thaader-stroket 

I wonl(^ be rich, but see men too unkind. 

Dig in the bowels of the richest mine : 

I would be wise, but that I often see 

The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free: 

I would be fair, but see the fair and proud, 

Like the bright son, oft setting in a cload : 

I woidd be poor^ Irnt know the humble gmas 

Btill trampled on by each unworthy ass: 

Rich, hated: wise, suspected : scorned if poor : 

Great, feared: fair, tempted : high, still envied more: 

I have wished all; but now I wish for neither ; 

Great, high, rich, wise nor fair; poor Til be rather. 

Would the world now adopt me for her heir ; 
Would Beauty's Queen entitle me ** The Fair;* 
Fame speak me Fortune's minion ; conld I vio 
Angels with India ; with a speaking eye 
Command hare heads, bowed knees, strike justice domt^ 
As well as Mind and lame, or give a tongue 
To stones by epitaphs, be ealled great Master 
Ib the loose rhdmes of every poetaster ; 
Could I be more than any nuin that lives. 
Great, fiur, rich, wise, all in superlatives : 
Yet I more freely would these gifts resign. 
Than ever fortune would have made them mine. 
And hold one minnte of this holy leisure 
Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure. 

Welcome pure (houghis ! welcome ye silent groves I 
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves: 
Now the winged people of the sky shall sing 
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring : 
A prayer-book now shall be my looking glass, 
In which I win adore sweet virtue's face. 
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace-cares. 
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-faced fears ; 
Then here 111 sit, and sigh my hot love's folly. 
And learn to affect an holy melancholy; 
And if Contentment be a stranger then, 
I'll ne'er look for it, but in Heaven again* 

Si& Hemrt Wotton. 1568—1639. 

A MAN should never be ashamed to own he has been in the 
wrong, which is but saying in other words, that he is wiser 
to-day than he was yesterday. — Pope 

10 THE SATUBDAT BUGAZINE. Jaktubt 12, 16 

...'«..nTTir< i»\n niicTKr/^ wATi?ii modification of this machioe ii used abroad, wher 

MACHINES FOR RAISING WATER. ^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ 

The madinea by which water ia ndaed from a lover The Bpiral pump is a contrivance on the eame pi 

toa higher level are exceedingly nnnwrDua, and the ciple. Intbisthe spiral tube is tnmedona horizoi 

inveation of those which are most eimple in their axis, and the end from which the water ia to be i 

construction may be referred to the earliest ^;e8. charged is connected by an air-tight joint to a perp 

Among the paintings of tiie ancient Egyptians are dicnlar tube, up which it is gradually forced ; by t 

found representations of a contrivance for that pur- means water can be carried to a considerable heij 

pose I a simple lever with a bncket attached*, is This pump was invented aboat 1746, by Audi 

a copy of one of these puntings : it will be seen Wiirtz, a pewterer in Zurich, who erected it for a d 

that it exactly resembles a contrivance of the same honse on the river Limmat. It consists of a spi 

kind much in use in England and other countries, in tube coiled up on a cylinder, or in any other way t 

rural districts, where it is desirable to avoid the may be thought most secure ; one end of this tubi 

expense of more perfect machines. To this invention open, and at every revolution dips into the water i 

would succeed the roller and rope, as in our common takes up a certain portion, which, as the scoop rii 

draw-well The idea of a chun of buckets would paasea along the apiral, and the air is driven forwi 

Boon suggest itself, and we find machines in which to the other end of the tube j to this end an npri; 

this combination of vessels is employed, in Sequent shaft is fixed, along which, in the first case, the ail 

use among many of the eastern nations ; in Egypt, driven, and after a few revolutions of the wheel, wl 

particularly, scarcely any other means are employed, all the air is expelled, the water taken up at the ot 

The Egyptian machines consist of a onmber of jars end ia also forced. These machines seem, in 

attached to an endless rope, which passes round a first instance, not to have been much employed, 

large wheel or drum ; the jars are filled as they pass 1 7?8 they were erected at Florence, the tube be 

through the water, and carried up one side of the coiled on a cylinder. In 1784, one was erected 

wheel ; as soon aa each jar reaches the top, it empties Archangelsky, near Moscow, which raised a hogidK 

its contents into a wooden channel, which carries the of water in a minute to the height of seventy-f 

water to a cistern placed to receive it : the machine feet, and through a pipe 760 feet long. The o 

is worked by a cog-wheel driven by cows or asses, practical difficulty experienced in constructing tit 

The Chinese chain-pump is another example of this machines, is in making the joint on which the sp 

arrangement of buckets, for the purpose of ralajng tube revolves, water-tight. It is not well undent 

water. In this country, when chain-pumps are whether a cylindrical or a square tube is best, 

worked, the power employed is generally water. though the spiral pump is not much in use, it 

A very singular machine is sometimes used, called considered by many, to be a very powerful engine 

the hair-rope machine, and the water is raised by its intended purpose, 

means of a horse-hair rope, or a bundle of ropes Another contrivance for raising water a short < 

which pass over a drum moving with great velocity j tance, is called the throwing-wheel or fiash-wheel. 

the rope, in passing through the water below, becomes is generally worked by a windmill, and employed 

saturated with the hqnid, and carries the greater draining land ; it consists of a kind of paddle-wh 

portion of it to the summit of the wheel, where it is by means of which the water is flashed or thrown 

discharged into a proper receptacle, the rapidity of an inclined plane, so as to fall into the canal by wl 

its motion preventing any great loss. it is discharged. 

Tax inventive powers of man are not, simply, limiled ; 

difficult to prove that he possesses sught but the talei 

varying that which has been invented by the Creator, < 

recombining those inTentioni into new groups; being t 

in mslity, but a oopyiit He has often attempted to de: 

nsw BDimsli; but they have ever been compounded I 

tlie parts of known ones; while, where his novelties 1 

been greatest, the anatomiBt has not been able to bu 

the parts necessary to motion. No botanist invents a 

plant but in the same manner; yet he receives from na 

a hundred new inventions without the least surprise. 

designer of ornamenU must have recourse to the same 

eshauKlible source; and when he attempts to improve 

soon finds that he is compelled to return to bis model' 

teacher. Be the painter what he may in poetic talettt 

is but the transcriber of what nature has produced, as 

excellence consists in selection and adaptation. The ] 

equally, notwithstanding the prejudices in favour of 

iavenuon, is the recorder and combiner of what ex 

while even his abstractions are but analyses of nal 

TBS icaair or aichiiiidu. There is but one inventor: it is the Omnipotent, who 

invented all things. — Macculloch. 

The scT«w of Archimedes is another contrivance , , — 

fov the same purpose. It consists of a spiral tube TnaaK is a species of humming bird in the East, free) 

turned by hand or otherwise; its lower mouth, at ""'"(""Mi so very small, that the ladies of those oountrii 

every revolution, scoops up a quantity of water, '''''''' '' '' /l""''; "" unfVequently. on account of 

I- L L J' 1 .■ ■ • ■ ■ transcendent heauly and splendour of the t nv creal 

which each succeeding revolutmn assists m carrying „^„ ^„ ^^.^ 1,,,^^^, _„ ear-Zp It feeds al molt 

upwards, until it is dischai^d by the opening at cisely like insects, on the refined nectar of pisnts, whil 

the other extremity of the spiral. This machine is the wing. It has a missile tongue. When captured, 

not calculated to raise water to any great height, delicately organized little creature expires almost insta 

and it is rather combersome in proportion to the London 

work it ptrfotm. Wb.a ia me it i. tool .t » JOHN WILIUM PiRKEKi WEST 8TEAND 

angle of about lorty-five degrees with the honzon, A ro«.iMi.DD.wi«LrNoiuMi«icioicii4iii.r «Bn.«o i 

'SeeSttvrda ttagamu, Vd. XL, p. 197 SaldbraU BookltUc»u'l^t1••n■idn■Uth*UB|dam 

N9 420. 



19T?, 1839 


LzaxMu or saixt xohaix, i 

Ahons the epiendid monaments of Gothic architec* 
tore, conetitnting, as they do, the pride and the glory 
of tike middle ages, we find all those arts vhich are 
subsidiary to the one great object of erecting a noble 
edifice io a state of great perfection. Carving of 
wood, or catting of metal into ecclesiastical oraa- 
ments; inlaying with gold, silver, and precious 
stones; sculpture; painting; organ-building j the 
conpositloD of church-mosic ; and the staining of 
glass; these were a few of the means by which reli- 
gious communities contributed to the imposiag splen- 
door of cathedrals and churches, and of the offices 
performed therein. We will not stop to inquire 
whether that great boon to humanity — the Reforma- 
tioQ, — was so far an exception to all other human 
bleesinga, as to be altogether unalloyed with some 
circumstances which may excite regret : all we wish 
to obserre on this point is, that since the Reforma- 
tion, Gothic architecture and its subsidiary arts have 
greatly declined : it has even t^n asserted, that tbe 
You XIV. 

art of glass- staining fell into such general disuse tbat 
at the beginning of the last century it was considered 
as BQ obsolete and irrecoverable art. This assertion 
has been made over and over again ] but, availing 
ourselves of undeniable sources of information, we 
shall find that there are no good grounds for the 
charge; since at the very time when the art waa 
considered as lost, some of the finest stained glass- 
windows were painted, from 1616 to 1700; and 
others by Jervis Forrest, tip to 1 785, 

In proceeding to notice Uiese beautiful prodnctionB 

Shed their maay-colonred lights 
ThrODgti the ii<ji robes of eremiles sad sabts, 
we propose to divide the subject into three parti. 
We sbal), Jiril, offer a brief account of the history of 
the art ; tecondly, an account of the processes em- 
ployed by the glass-stainer ; and, thirdly, a notice of 
some of the most celebrated windows which adorn 
the venerable buildinics of our own country, the pre- 
* 430 



[January 19, 

• servation of whose pure faith is the object of every 
rightly-constituted mind. 

Among numerous contradictory statements respect- 
ing the manufactory of stained glass among the 
modems^ we cannot but refer to the information 
afforded by an examination of the literary and archi- 
tectural remains of antiquity. We find that the 
Romans excelled in the art of fabricating gems and 
artificial stones, the transparency, the lustre, and the 
colour of which were greatly admired. They seem to 
have had greater difficulty in producing colourless 
glass ; for we read, that the emperor Nero paid 6000 
sestertia, or about 50,000/. of our money for two small 
drinking- cups with handles, the chief excellence of 
which consisted in their being colourless. The glass 
in common use was of an inferior description ; it was 
generally thick, of an opaque white, and often of a 
blueish colour. In the reign of Tiberius a company 
of glass-manufacturers established themselves in 
Rome, and dwelt in a street near the Porta Capena: 
but the articles manufactured at this place appear to 
have been few in number, and poor in quality. In 
the time of Tiberius a curious discovery is referred 
to, of an architect who had been banished from Rome, 
in consequence of having incurred the displeasure of 
the emperor) but having discovered a malleable or 
ductile glass, he thought to propitiate the emperor by 
an exhibition of his skill. The artist appeared before 
him, bearing a glass vessel which he dashed upon the 
ground without its being broken. The blow merely 
distorted the shape of the vessel, which the artist 
remedied by hammering it again into shape, as if it 
bad been made of brass. The emperor, however, in- 
stead of rewarding the artist, ordered him to be put 
to death, remarking, that such a discovery would, if 
known, tend to make gold of no more value than 
common clay. This story is variously related, and, 
if true, proves that the artist made a discovery of 
^hich the world is yet ignorant ; although an artisan 
in the time of Louis the Thirteenth is said to have 
presented the Cardinal Richelieu with a bust made of 
ductiie glass; but the minister, with great simplicity, 
forbade the revelation of the processes by which ,it 
was made, fearing that its introduction would tend to 
injure the glass- manufactories of France. 

The ancient Egyptians were doubtless well ac- 
quainted with the art of glass-making. Glass beads 
and bther glass ornaments neatly made and beauti- 
fully coloured, are found among the ornaments of 
mummies, which are known to be more than three 
thousand years old. The Phoenicians were, at an 
early period, celebrated for the excellence of their 
glass, which at one time was sold in Rome for large 
sums. The cups and sepulchral urns which adorn 
many of our museums, prove a great skill in glass- 
blowing, and display a delicacy of workmanship not 
excelled by modern art. The celebrated Portland, 
vase in the British Museum is composed of very deep 
blue glass, with figures of a delicate white enamel 
raised on it in relief. This splendid specimen of 
ancient art was found in the tomb of Alexander 
Severus, who died A. d. 235. 

We find coloured glass beads and amulets among 
the Druidical remains of this country, whence it has 
been argued by some antiquaries, that the art of 
glass- making was known in Britain before the inva- 
sion of the Romans. This, however, is subject to 
great doubt, for these beads and amulets are of ad- 
mirable workmanship, and beautifully coloured, so as 
to imitate gems and precious stones. The most pro- 
bable theory of their introduction into Britain at this 
early period is, that the ancient Britons procured 
them from the Syrians^ who visited the island in the 

way of trade, and bartered them in the same manner 
as we do at the present day with the South Sea 
islanders, who^ in common with most rude nations, 
delight in toys and trinkets. However, it is quite 
clear that the ancient Britons were abundantly sup- 
plied with these glass ornaments, and that they con- 
nected them with their religious observances at s. 
period long anterior to the Roman invasion, as they 
are found in barrows of a much older date. A larges= 
quantity of them have been found in the barrowsas 
which are so numerous on Salisbury Plain. 

Druidical glass rings, too, have been found, which, .« 
according to popular superstition, have a curious m 
origin: they are said to have been produced by ^ 
"snakes joining their heads together and hissing, « 
when a kind of bubble like a ring was formed round ^ 
the head of them, which the others, continuing to 
hiss, blew on, till it came off at the tail, when it im- 
mediately hardened into a glass ring." A person 
finding one of these snake-stones was deemed fortu- 
nate and happy. They seem, however, to be nothing 
more than means employed by the Druids to deceive 
the vulgar : they are generally of a green colour, but 
some of them are blue, and a few are variegated with 
streaks of white, red, and blue. 

Such, then, are a few notices of the art of staining 
glass chiefiy with reference to the production of ar- 
tificial gems and precious stones. It is very probable 
that the art of staining or painting on glass is coeval 
with the art of glass-making for domestic purposes. 
It is very difficult to make colourless transparent 
glass; the materials employed are generally such as 
will produce colour, and the idea doubtless occurred 
to the earliest makers that glass with a pure homo- 
geneous stain might be more easily made than colour- 
less glass, and would be more ornamental: but to 
produce glass upon which are traced figures of men, 
animals, foliage, and general ornaments, was a far 
more difficult undertaking. It bespeaks a time when 
great skill and knowledge in chemistry and art was 
attained. No wonder, then, that the first essays 
were rude both in design and execution. We find 
among the earliest attempts to produce pictures of 
coloured and transparent glass, certain specimens 
composed of pieces of glass clumsily joined together 
by a vein of lead run upon the back of the picture, 
precisely at the junction of pieces of variously- 
coloured glass, so arranged as to produce the desired 
figure of a man, &c. 

At the time of this mode of manufacture, the glass 
pictures of the ancients were probably unknown. 
Modem research has offered to our notice some 
wonderful instances of ancient skill. Winckelmaun 
speaks of pictures formed by means of delicate glass 
fibres of various hues, which being fitted and adjusted 
together with great nicety, were united by fusion into 
a solid mass. 

About the ninth century, when so many of the 
splendid ecclesiastical edifices were erected on the 
continent, we find frequent mention of the art of 
glass-painting. But for a long time the painted 
windows used in cathedrals were merely painted on 
the surface -, the art of staining the glass itself by 
fusion being unknown until the beginning of the 
fifteenth century. This great improvement is said to 
be due to a painter of Marseilles; but the French 
throw the date of the invention several centuries 
back, and, with their accustomed vanity, claim not 
only the invention, but most of the improvements iii 
this beautiful and difficult art. However this may 
be, it is certain that the French have produced some 
admirable specimens of glass -painting. Our frontis- 
piece represents a portion of a large window in the 




church of St. Godard at Rouen. This is a produc- 
tion of the sixteenth century^ and is a masterly per- 
formance^ whether as regards the design of the artist, 
or the work of the glass- stainer. We shall presently 
speak of the legend which this window commemorates. 
In our own country, up to the time of King John, 
staiped or painted glass was imported from Italy. In 
the reign of Henry the Third, a few notices of the 
construction of painted windows occur. In the time 
4)f Henry the Fourth, we find the name of John 
Thornton, of Coventry, a glazier and glass- stainer, 
^'ho was employed to paint the eastern window of 
Turk Cathedral. The terms of his engagement were 
as follows : four shillings per week of regular wages, 
"because he was a " masterlye workeman." If he 
Abided by his contract to finish the work in three 
years, he was to receive over and above the weekly 
allowance, for each year, one hundred shillings ; and 
at the completion of the work, if the dean and chapter 
of York approved thereof, he was to receive the further 
sum of ten pounds. 

From this period to the time of the Reformation, 
many excellent glass-stainers appeared in England. 
That great event tended to check the progress of art 
in this country, but did not, as is generally supposed, 
render the art of glass-staining obsolete. The follow- 
ing is a list of the most eminent English glass-stainers 
ranged alphabetically, with a slight notice of their 
principal works. 

Bacrler, a painter on glass of the last century. 
Beckwith. To this skilful artist is due the magnificent 
window of Arundel Castle, representing King John grant- 
ing the Magna Charta. 

Collins, an eminent artist of our own time, who has 
executed some admirable works in some of tho French 

EoiNTON, F., in 1794, repaired the fine window repre- 
senting the Last Judgment, in the chapel of Magdalen 
College, Oxford, and executed several noble windows in 
the same chapel. He also executed windows for All Souls* 
College and Windsor Castle. He died in 1805. 
FoRKST, pupil and assistant of Jar vis. 
Giles, Hknry, painted tho easteni window of the chapel 
of University' College, Oxford, representing the Nativity. 
Tbe gid of Dr. Radcliffc. 

Godfrey* R. S., executed a splendid work at Paris in 

1769, which is said to surpass the works of the old stainers. 

Jaryis painted the altar-piece in St. George's Chapel, 

Wiodfior, alter the design of West, representing the 


Jertjiis, in 1777, painted the large western window of 
T^ew College, Oxford, after the designs of Sir Joshua 

LiNGK, in 1636, painted the windows in the chapel of 
Queen s College, Oxford, and in 1641 those of University 
College Chapel. Those in the chapels of Wadham and 
Bahol Colleges were also executed hy him. 

Marlow was also employed ahout the windows of All 

Olitier, Isaac, in 1700, at the age of eighty-four years, 
executed the window in Christ Church, Oxford, represent- 
ing Peter delivered from Prison hy an Angel. Professor 
Backland says that the colours of this work arc changed 
by time. 

'Pkarson, in 1776, after the designs of Mortimer, painted 
tbe magnificent window of Brazen Nose College. 

Peckitt, of York, from 1765 to 1774, was engaged on 
tbe windows of New College Chapel. The colours in these 
works are now greatly changed. 

Picket, in 1762, executed a fine window for] Lincoln 

Price, William, at the beginning of the eighteenth 
eentury, executed several works for the colleges at Oxford. 
He was succeeded by his son. 

Such» then« is a list of the principal English glass- 
itainen. A host of splendid windows executed by 
than, snfiBciently attests that the art has been culti- 
viied with success in this country, although many 
(€ the iTimfni^^**^ writers deny that the English 

ever did or could cope with continental artists. In^ 
a future article we propose to examine in detail a few 
of the finest specimens of stained glass windows due 
to English workmen. To illustrate the present brief 
sketch of the history of the art, we have chosen our 
frontispiece from a work of the old stainers, to ex- 
press, as well as can be done in the absence of the 
splendid transparent colours of the original work, the 
masterly skill of the old artists. There are some fine 
windows in the churches of Rouen, illustrating many 
of the legends peculiar to the faith of the church of 
Rome, and although we by no means approve of the 
subjects which these windows are intended to illus- 
trate, yet we may be allowed to speak of them merely 
as works of art in terms of praise. 

The subject of the legend which these windows 
commemorate is a passage in the life of St. Romain, 
who filled the episcopal chair of the cathedral of 
Rouen. Many wonderful stories are related of this 
prelate. It is said that in his time a frightful winged 
dragon devastated the neighbourhood of Rouen, and 
indulged, after the approved fashion of such mon- 
sters, in sundry feasts on human beings, &c. St. 
Romain determined to rid the country of this scourge, 
and after many snares and traps had been set and 
laid in vain, he determined to go in person to tbe 
forest-haunt of the monster. He took with him two 
criminals, one of whom was sentenced to death, to 
assist him in the chivalric deed. As they drew near 
the spot, the condemned criminal fled at the sight of 
the dragon, (see frontispiece :) but the other criminal, 
taking the girdle of the holy man, approached the 
monster. At the sight of the girdle it became " as 
gentle as a lamb," submitted to be bound therewith, 
and was thus conducted to the prelate, who caused 
it to be taken into the market-place of Rouen and 
publicly burnt. Its ashes were then thrown into the 
river Seine. 

Ignorance only could ever haTe dictated the sentiment 
that anything was made in vain — that ignorance which leads 
its victim to believe that he is the only object on which the 
good gifts of Providence should have been lavished, and, 
finding things in the universe which he can neither under- 
stand nor make use qf, impiously to deem them useless, and 
made without a purpose. But he who considers the myriads 
of beings, besides those of his own race, which arc nourished 
by the hand of Providence, and the thousand purposes to be 
worked out in the great laboratory of nature, of the very 
existence of which, much more their need and means of 
fulfilment, he is ignorant, will never be hasty to conclude 
of anything, that it exists " in vain." It were strange 
indeed, if the Father of creation should reveal all his pur- 
poses to one of his feeble creatures, and teach his deepest 
mysteries to him, to whom his own existence is an inexpli- 
cable mystery. Science never fails to teach him who pur- 
sues it in the love of it, more and more to mistrust himself; 
and the further onward he pursues its paths, the more 
insij:;nificant does he feel himself to be, as he sees its inter- 
minable fields spreading wider before him, beyond the very 
borders of which he does not seem to have progressed.— ? 

What Pleasure it is to pay One's Debts ! — ^I REinEV- 
BERto have heard Sir Thomas Lyttleton make this observa- 
tion. It seems to flow from a combination of circumstancesy 
each of which is productive of pleasure. In the first place 
it removes that uneasiness which a true spirit feels from 
dependence and obligation. It afi'ords pleasure to the 
creditor, and therefore gratifies our social aficction. It 
promotes that future confidence, which is so very interesting 
to an honest mind: it opens a prospect of being readily 
supplied with what we want on future occasions: it leaves 
a consciousness of our own virtue : and it is a measure we 
know to be right, both in point of justice and of sound 
economy. Finally, it is the main support of sixsi^V&'W^gQs^ 
tation. — Shenstone. 


[Janvart I9» 


No. IX. 
On Sealing Wax. 

practice of employing seals on letters and other 
written documents, has, like most other customs of 
general adoption, undergone many changes and gra- 
dual improvements, l^e purposes for which they 
have been applied, the materiid of which they have 
been formed, the^devices impressed upon them, and 
the mode of fixing them to the parchment or pai>er 
to which they are to be attached, have all been subject 
to many mutations,>^a description of a few of which 
may not be without interest to the general reader. 

In France, the custom in early times was, to seal 
instruments and other documents, instead of signing 
them j as appears from innumerable ancient charters 
which are not signed at all. The reason of this cus- 
tom was, that in those days very few people were able 
to write 5 scarcely any one, indeed, could either read 
or write but clerks ; and the custom continued till 
the times when learning made its way among them, 
although the reason for doing so had ceased to 

In earlier times than those of which we have just 
been speaking, however, the affixing of seals to 
written documents was a common practice. The 
material employed for this purpose by the Egyptians, 
Romans, and other ancient nations, was a kind of 
earth, known as terra sigillaris, or sealing earth. The 
Egyptian priests bound to the horns of the cattle, 
which were fit for sacrifice, a piece of paper, stuck 
upon some sealing earth, on which they made an 
impression with the sacred seal ; and such cattle only 
could be offered up as victims. An allusion to the 
use of sealing earth is made by Lucian. in a passage 
where he speaks of a fortune-teller, who directed that 
those who came to consult him, should write down on 
a bit of paper the questions they wished to ask, to 
fold it up, and to seal it with clay or some similar 

One of the mythological talcs of the ancients turns 
upon the employment of an earth as a material for 
seals. A Sybil received a promise from Apollo, that 
she should live as long as she did not see the earth 
of the island Erythrea, on which she lived. To avoid 
the impending liability of death, therefore, she quitted 
the place, and retired to Cumse, where she became 
old and decrepit. But on one occasion she happened 
to receive a letter sealed with Erythrean earth, upon 
looking at which she instantly expired. 

Leaving the realms of fiction, however, there is a 
curious circumstance related, by means of which 
Cicero was enabled to prove the authenticity of a 
document by the seal attached thereto. In a legal 
contest between two individuals, two contradictory 
documents were produced, each of which purported 
to have come from Asia; but Cicero proved that the 
one which he produced was the genuine document, 
from the circumstance that it was sealed with sealing 
earth, as was customary in Asia ; whereas, the docu- 
ment produced by the opposing party was sealed 
with wax, a practice only adopted by the nations of 
the West, and therefore pointing out the document as 

Earth, such as we have described, seems to have 
been employed for sealing by the emperors of the 
East ; for we are told that at the second council of 
Nice, a certain person defended the worship of images, 
by saying, that no one believed that those who 
received written orders from the emperor, and vene- 
rated the seal, worshipped on that account the sealing 
earth which had been applied to the paper. 

The emplo3rment of earth for these purposes was in 
after times superseded by that of flour paste, with 
which monarchs used frequently to seal their letters. 
There was also employed a composition called maltha, 
which appears to have consisted of pitch and wax, 
mixed in certain proportions. Before the time of 
William the Conqueror, the English did not seal with 
any substance in a soft state, but only made a golden 
cross on the parchment, and sometimes an impression 
on a piece of lead, which hung to the grant or other 
document by a silken thread, and was deemed a suffi- 
cient proof of the tenability of the grant, without 
either signing or witnesses. 

Another substance was, however, gradually intro- 
duced as a material for seals, and soon usurped the 
place of most of those formerly in use. This was 
wax. Wax has the property of easily melting by 
the application of heat, and of again solidifying ; and, 
therefore, .presented a useful substitute for the earth 
formerly employed, which must necessarily have been 
liable to crumble to dust. Yellow wax was first em- 
ployed, as being most readily obtained ; and after a 
time white wax was also used. Then came various 
attempts, in the fourteenth century, to give to the 
wax fanciful colours of different kinds : sometimes 
green, at other times black was the prevailing colour. 
The attempts to produce blue wax were, at that 
period, and for a long time afterwards, unsuccessful ; 
for when a vegetable blue-colouring substance was 
mixed with the wax, the resulting tint was always 
green ; and the mineral bodies employed for the 
same purpose, subsided to the bottom when the wax 
was melted, instead of combining with it. This cir- 
cumstance gave a very questionable value to a grant 
which the Emperor Charles the Fifth made to Dr. 
Stockamar, of Nuremburg, in 1524 ; which was, the 
privilege of using blue seals in wax. 

Soft wax for sealing, such as we here allude to, 
is made in our own day in the following manner : — 
One pound of bees* wax, three ounces of turpentine, 
and one ounce of olive oil, are put into a proper 
vessel over the fire, and allowed to boil for some time, 
when the mixture will be well incorporated, and fit to 
be formed into rolls or cakes for use. To colour such, 
soft wax, an ounce of any one of the colouring sub- 
stances of which we shall presently speak, must be 
stirred in while boiling, till thoroughly incorporated 
with the wax. By pouring the melted soft wax into 
cold water, it is brought to the requisite consistency 
to be formed into the rolls or cakes. But before this 
is done, the wax is sometimes, perfumed : this is 
effected by adding to every pound of wax, an ounce 
of gum benjamin, a scruple of oil of rhodium, ten. 
grains of musk, five grains of civet, and fiye of am- 
bergris. These various scents are rubbed up with the 
oil, and sprinkled on the wax while in a warm state. 

We have still to speak of the real sealing wax o£ 
modem times 3 a substance which affords us on^ 
instance among many, of the misapplication of term^ 
No wax whatever is employed in this substance 
indeed, if wax were employed, the substance wouK^~ 
never assume, after being melted, the hard and britt -^ 
character which it presents to us. 

There are many contradictory accounts of t^C 
invention of sealing wax : neither the date of its d^m 
icovery, nor the name of the discoverer, being w^*i- 
agreed upon. Some have supposed that it was fiir — 
prepared in the East, from the circumstance that t -5 
lac, which is its principal ingredient, is an caste n 
product. Beckmann says, that in the collection 0/ 
curiosities in the university of Gottingen, are twa 
sticks of sealing wax, which Professor Butner pn>- 
cured from Constantiaop^^^ under the name of Turkef 




vocx: they are angular, bent like a bow, are neither 
stamped or glazed, and are of a dark but pure red 
colour. There are in the same collection two other 
sticks which came from the East Indies, and which 
are straight, glazed, made somewhat thin at both 
ends, have no stamp, and are of a darker and dirtier 
red colour. All these four sticks seem to be lighter 
than those made at the present day, and do not 
appear to acquire so strong an electrical excitation by 

One account of the introduction of sealing wax 
into common use, is as follows : — Francis Rousseau, 
bom near Auxerre, in France, travelled through 
Persia, Pegu, and other parts of the East, by which 
be acquired considerable knowledge of the manu- 
facturing processes of the East Having, while he 
lived at Paris as a merchant, during the latter years 
of the reign of Louis the Thirteenth, lost all his pro- 
perty by fire, he entered on the project of preparing 
sealing wax from gum lac, (as he had seen it prepared 
in India,) in order to maintain his wife and five 
children. A lady of the name of Longueville made 
this sealing wax known at court, and persuaded 
Louis the Thirteenth to use it : after which it was 
purchased and used throughout all Paris. By this 
article, Rousseau, before the expiration o^ a year, 
gained 50,000 livres. It acquired the name of Cire 
dtEspagne, (Spanish wax,) because at that time a kind 
of gum lac, which was prepared in an inferior way, 
was known as Cire de Portugal, (Portugal wax). 

Sealing wax, however, was used in Europe long 
before this period, for there is a letter in existence, 
dated as early as August 3, 1554, which is sealed with 
this modem species of sealing wax. We have here 
an instance of the difficulty of fixing the date of 
inventions or discoveries. 

: This useful material is made of gum lac, melted 
and prepared with resin, and coloured with pigments 
of various hues, of which, however, the prevailing 
one is red. The hard red sealing wax is made by 
mixing together two parts of shell lac, one part of 
resin, and one of vermilion, all in a powdered state. 
They are then melted over a slow fire, and when they 
appear thoroughly incorporated, are poured into 
moulds either ornamental or plain, or else they are 
rolled out into the form of sticks. In the latter case 
the soft mass is put on a copper-plate or on a stone, 
and rolled with a board lined with copper or block 
tin, to the required length and thickness. The polish 
or gloss is given to^the sticks by exposing them to a 
&te. For this purpose a furnace or stove is used, 
somewhat resembling a pail, with bars at the bottom 
for holding charcoal, and notched at the top of the 
sides for putting the sticks of wax over the fire. In 
this manner the sticks are conveniently turned about 
till the wax is so melted on the surface as to become 
smooth and shining. Hard sealing wax may be 
formed into balls, by putting a proper quantity on a 
plate, and when made into a round form, rolled with 
the board till it becomes smooth. 

Seed lac may be substituted for the shell lac, and 
instead of resin, boiled Venice turpentine may be 
employed. There is a coarse kind of sealing wax 
which may be made by mixing two parts of resin and 
of shell lac, vermilion and red lead, in the proportion 
of one vermilion to two of red lead. The vermilion 
and shell lac are both frequently omitted when cheap- 
ness is an object; but the wax thus made is of a very 
inferior kind. 

The best black sealing wax is prepared as above 
described, except that ivory-black is substituted for 
the vermilion^ and in the commoner kmds, lamp- 
black, • 

Coloured sealing wax is prepared in other respects 
in the same way, only altering the colouring matter 
according to the tint required. For green wax, 
instead of vermilion, powdered verdigris is employed : 
for a brighter green, distilled or crystals of verdigris : 
for blue, powdered smalt : for light blue, verditer, or 
a mixture of verditer and smalt: for yellow, masticot; 
or for a brighter tint, turbith mineral. The purple 
wax is made like the red, only lessening the quantity 
of vermilion, and taking a larger or smaller propor* 
tion of smalt, according to the reauired shade of 

Most of the cheap sealing wax that is hawked 
about the streets, is disguised so as to assume the 
appearance of good wax. The sticks are prepared 
from the coarsest and cheapest materials, and then 
covered with a very thin coat of the best sealing wax. 
This is done by warming the sticks of inferior wax, 
covering them with the l^t wax in a state of powder, 
and then melting this powder by the application of 

Such, then, is a short view 'of the circumstances 
attending the introduction of sealing wax, or more 
correctly, sealing resin, and of the mode by which it 
is prepared. 


A COAL-MINE resembles in some degree a stone- 
quarry, or a series of stone-quarries, but it is neces- 
sary to suppose them to be worked at such a depth 
as not to be exposed to the day, and therefore re- 
quiring pillars of the stone to be left undisturbed, 
for the purpose of supporting the strata lying above 
them J through which strata a shaft or pit is sunk 
into the mine to open it out, to allow the workmen 
to enter into and depart from it, and to permit its 
produce to be raised to the surface. It is a scene of 
great activity, men and horses are kept almost con- 
stantly at work; here also are light rail-roads, and 
trucks, and sometimes steam-engines, for carrying 
the coal from the place of working to the pit or shaft. 

The men work by what are termed '^ shifts," or a 
gang, one gang taking the " day-shift,** another the 
" night-shift;'* thus ^e mine is kept at work night 
and day, excepting on Sundays, pay-days, and holi- 
days. The men " come to bank/* or ascend the pit 
and go to their houses when not at work, and are 
remarkably cleanly, washing themselves carefully 
whenever they leave work. The horses are sent to 
bank only when it is deemed necessary to give them 
a run out, and this is very seldom ; they are provided 
with good stabling below. 

, The danger of working in coal-mines is sometimes 
considerable, and chiefly arises from the inflammable 
gas contained in the coals, from water collected in old 
workings, and from the falling of the roof, or stone 
which is always found above the coal. When fissures 
occur in the coal, they are generally filled with the 
gas, and on the fissure being pierced, the gas issues 
forth into the workings, and if not observed will 
take fire at the lights of the miners, and explode, pro- 
ducing sometimes most dreadful effects. After the 
explosion, what the miners call " choke damp** comes 
on, and those who may have escaped the *' blast,** 
or explosion, frequently fall victims to the choke- 
damp. Some strata, or seams of coal, give out gas 
from all parts, and are the most dangerous to work in. 

To enable the miners to work in such places, they 
use a lamp covered with fine wire-gauze, called the 
safety lamp, which will bum in the foul air, without 
causing an explosion until the wire of the lamp be- 
comes red-hot. The lamp serves also to warn the 




[January 19, 

miner of his danger from foul air, as on coming in 
contact with it, the Hame dilates and changes colour. 
In places where the air is not so foul, the mine is 
frequently lighted up with common lamps, and by 
the men carrying candles. The different shafts of a 
mine are likewise used for the important purpose of 
ventilating it. By lighting a large fire at the bottom 
of one shaft, a quick and powerful upward draft is 
produced ; to supply the vacuum thus created in the 
mine, a current of fresh and cold air rushes down 
the other shaft. A circulation of air being thus 
secured, the fresh air is, by means of trap-doors and 
other contrivances, conducted into every part of the 
mine where the men are working, before it is per- 
mitted to escape at the/' upcast** shaft, or that where 
the fire is; the other is called a ''downcast" shaft. 

In digging, the miners meet with many springs, 
some of which are possessed of strong saline proper- 
ties. Sometimes the miners pierce strong springs, 
or old workings, which during many years have been 
reservoirs for water, when the water rushes into the 
mine with great force, and drowns the men. The 
water must then be got out of the mine before the 
working can proceed. This is done by vast pumps, 
worked by steam-engines ; one stroke of which will 
raise as much water as five hundred men could pump 
out. Whilst sinking a pit recently, in the county of 
Durham, a feeder of water was encountered which 
required the engines to pump upwards of four thou- 
sand gallons in a minute. 

Where the roof of the mine is bad, it is supported 
with timber. Portions, however, sometimes fall before 
their weakness is discovered by the miners, not un- 
frequeutly causing death. Accidents of this kind 
are, however, from their nature, limited in their fatal 
consequences ; and they sometimes are the occasion 
of most singular hair-breadth escapes. If the roof 
fall when the mine is foul, and damage any of the 
lamps, then there is great risk of an explosion. Some 
explosions are accounted for in this way. 

The depth of ''some" of the mines should be 
stated at "upwards of fifteen himdred feet." One is 
1700: 1000 and 1200 feet are now frequent— Say 
170 to 200 fathoms. 


A SHEPUEBD on the silent mooi 

Pursued his lone employ, 
And 1)y him watched, at midnight hour^ 

His loved and gentle boy. 

Tlio night was still, the sky was clear. 
The moon and stars were bright ; 

And well the youngster loved to hear 
Of those fair orbs of light. 

Wlien lo ! an earth-born meteor's glare 
Blade stars and planets dim ; 

In 'transient splendour tlirough the air 
Its glory seemed to swim. 

No more could star's or planet's spell 

Tlio stripling's eye enchant : 
He only ui^ed liis sire to tell 

Of this new visitant. 

But ere the shepherd found a tongue^ 
The meteor's gleam was gone ; 

And in their glory o'er them hung 
The orbs of night alone. 

Canst thou the simple lesson read 
My artless muse hath given ? 

The only lights that safely lead 
Are those that shine from heaven. 

One far more bright than sun or ^tar 

Is lit in every soul ; 
To guide, if nothing earthly mar, 

T6 heaven*8 eternal goal ! — BAAToy« 



Though the uses of the winds have often been 
pointed out, I know not who has remarked on that 
beautiful balance of force and resistance by which 
the velocity of the atmosphere, or uniting to this the 
appointed gravity of that body, its momentum, is 
kept within the bounds necessary to the safe existence 
of the vegetable world. It must not be said, as it has 
often been asserted of creation, that this limit of force 
was contingent on the constitution of the atmosphere 
and the moving powers ; and is therefore a necessity, 
not the result of design. There are hurricanes, 
as permitted evils, or appointed variations for special 
ends ', and if they are among the usual exceptions to 
what we deem a perfect order of things, so do they 
prove that such forces might occur more frequently, 
or act perpetually, had it been ordained or permitted. 
But to have done this would have been to destroy the 
vegetable races, or else to demand the construction of 
stronger ones, endued with the necessary resisting 
power. And in this is seen the balance in question : 
it is an adaptation made in wisdom, not a chance ; 
while if we compare the apparent feebleness of struc- 
ture so frequent in plants, with the extent of exposure 
and the enormous forces to which they are so often 
subjected without injury, we cannot fail to be inter- 
ested in the facts, ^nd in the means by which these 
compensations are effected. 

Those facts are open to every one. There is no 
tree so large, no plant so humble and tender, as not 
to resist the strongest gales j with exception of those 
rare excesses which form parts of the appointed de- 
structive powers of creation. The tree is rarely bro- 
ken, more rarely uprooted j scarcely does it lose the 
tenderest branch, when bending for days to the blast : 
and even the leaf, attached by a slender stem, and 
destined to fall at no distant day, defies the storm 
while its appointed office is required. The flexible 
and feeble rose-bush is tormented by the winds as if 
it would be dispersed in fragments, yet scarcely a 
petal is displaced till the time approaches when it 
would have fallen without a touch. It is intended 
that they should aid in scattering the seeds of plants : 
yet never perhaps was an unripe one detached by the 
utmost severity of the gale, tender as its attachment 
may be, tender as we know it to be in the case of the 
dandelion. No one, knowing the nature of these 
parts in plants, and not knowing these facts, could 
have expected such resistance : it is only the experi— 
ence of the cultivator which tells him, that neither 
will his corn-stalk be broken nor its seed dislodge 
by aught less than the hurricane or the whirlwind. 

All this is effected with the utmost facility, nc 

through strength but through weakness j by yieldin] 
not by resistance. In Heu of that which could n< 
be granted, the parts of plants have been endowed 
with flexibility and elasticity, in addition to su( 
tenacity as was admissible : they are the correctii 
and compensating power, and the result shows thi 
the adaptation is perfect ; while we cannot doubt ttsm 
design, when we find that elasticity, one of the mo^-^/ 
beautiful and mysterious of the laws of matter, icE- 
tended not only for evading force, but for equalizio^ 
and continuing motion, is diffused through the vege- 
table world, wherever it can serve this purpose, and 
no where else j effecting the ends in view, here as 
elsewhere, through the gradual instead of the suddea 
retardation of communicated motion. 

Should a vane be fixed, it would be broken or beat 
by the storm : it is free to move, and in this motion 
it finds a shelter from violence. Thus also is a leaf 
empowered to place itself in a parallel to the stream 




of wind, and thence to defeat or elude its force ; 
while the flexibility and elasticity of the foot- stalk en- 
able it to conform to the most capricious an^ sadden 
changes ; insomuch that there is scarcely an attach- 
ment so feeble as to be insufficient for security. To 
go through even a small part oF the variations which 
occur in different plants under this principle, to show 
how, under different degrees of strength and of flexi- 
bility, and under differences in form and in the modes 
of resistance and escape, the desired end is always 
attained, would far exceed these limits : the student 
of nature may pursue this investigation through the 
whole range, down to Nasturtium, (Tropceolum,) 
where the length and flexibility of the foot-stalk still 
form an effectual remedy, though the principle for 
the coDStruction of a leaf and its stem is reversed. 

If the herbaceous plant is low that it may find 
shelter, or otherwise evade the winds, the tall tree is 
protected by some peculiar construction or qualities. 
The fir tribe is little flexible or elastic, because this 
would have interfered with the destined purposes of 
its wood for the uses of man 3 but, in compensation, 
its fohage is such that the winds can pervade it more 
easily than diat of any other trees. Under that of 
the oak it would have been destroyed : while this 
tree^ reversely, opposing to the winds a solid mass of 
leaves^ is strong both in material and form, al- 
though little yielding. The no less full ash bends to 
the blast, through its flexibility, recovering by its elas- 
ticity, while its high tenacity constitutes the remainder 
of its protection. If the Cactus, Agave, and many 
similar plants, are neither tenacious, nor flexible, nor 
elastic, they are strong in form and in structure ; the 
latter resembling that contrivance in bones, by which 
bulk is produced without weight, and strength with- 
out mass of materials. In the vine, and in many more 
plants ; in bryony very remarkably, the tendril does 
not serve merely as a support ; since in curling itself 
far more^than is necessary for that purpose, it be- 
comes a spiral spring, allowing the plant to yield to 
the winds, and restoring it to its place as their force 
passes away. It is almost superfluous to point out 
how the delicacy of the foot-stalks in the panicled 
grasses, added to the elastic flexibility of the whole 
stem, defends the flowers from any torments the storm 
can inflict : while interesting variations will be found 
in Aira, Agrostis, Briza, and many others, with exam- 
ples of elasticity in many more, not always exceeded by 
that of our metal springs. And if, in this tribe, the 
length and flexibility of the filaments afford singular 
protection to the anthers, independently of the more 
direct purpose which they serve, in permitting their 
contact with the surrounding stigmas, so does the 
anther, almost every where, afford another example 
of contrivance subservient to this purpose, if to move, 
in that articulation which so far exceeds the ball-and- 
socket joipt in freedom, that it almost seems as if no 
attachment existed. One other circumstance may be 
mentioned ; that which, depending on the sensibility 
of the vegetable organization, is only called into ac- 
tion when it is wanted 3 being displayed in the in- 
creased action of the tendrils, in the further spreading 
or growth of the roots, and in that general increase 
of strength which follows from exposure, very re- 
markably in the outer trees of a forest. 

It must suffice to have thus shown, that in this 
department of life the Divine wisdom has adapted the 
resisting powers to the injurious forces, through a 
great diversity of contrivances, and with a success as 
perfect as the general intention is unquestionable. 

[Macculloch's Proof i and JUuttrations of tko Attributes 

of God.J 



No. VI. 

Electrical Experiments. 

The electric spark is an object of peculiar interest 
to all classes of observers, especially to philosophers. 

When an electrical machine is in good action, if we 
bring the knuckle, or a brass ball, near the positive 
conductor, brilliant sparks, or rather streaks of light, 
will dart from it} following each other in quick suc- 
cession, but varying in their colour and form, 
according to the distance to which they are trans- 
mitted. When the spark is received by the knuckle, 
it is necessary to turn back the cuff of the coat, to 
prevent the electricity from being conveyed by it from 
the machine. This precaution is also applicable to 
other parts of the dress, which should be properly 
secured whilst conducting all kinds of electrical expe- 
riments 3 for if permitted to get near the apparatus^ 
they will materially interfere with the results. 

The best method of investigating electrical light, 
as it is exhibited when passing through air, is by 
means of two brass balls, each about two inches in 
diameter. One of these balls must be fixed to the 
conductor, at that part farthest from the machine, and 
the other held in the hand of the operator. The 
latter ball being placed at what is termed the striking 
distance from the other, and which depends on the 
size and power of the machine, a spark or flash of 
white light, tinged at one of its extremities with violet, 
will pass between them. On gradually separating 
the balls, the sparks will pass less frequently, and as 
the distance increases, the violet colour will prevaiL 
If a ball one inch in diameter be substituted for that 
attached to the conductor, electricity of higher in- 
tensity will be obtained, and it will consequently pass 
through a greater space. 

Under these circumstances, and with a twenty-four 
inch plate machine now before us, the sparks can be 
made to vary from four to ten inches in length. As 
their length is increased, they assume a zigzag, and 
ultimately a forked appearance, exactly resembling 
lightning 3 and instead of proceeding direct towards 
the centre of the large ball (which is held in the hand), 
they seem attracted by irregularities at various parts 
of its surface, or probably by particles floating in the 
atmosphere, but which are too minute to be detected. 
The colour of these sparks or flashes is fainter in 
proportion as they are more diffused, changing from 
violet to deep red. 

We have always found the part of the conductor 
of a plate machine at which the longest sparks can be 
taken, is at the angle where the piece is returned 
which carries the steel points. When the machine, to 
which we just now referred, is in good condition, and 
the atmosphere favourable, we have no difficulty in 
obtaining from it, at the part we have mentioned, a 
rapid succession of sparks, from nine to twelve inches 
in length. It is also deserving of notice, that the time 
most favourable for the developement of these sparks 
or flashes is during the first three or four turns of 
the machine, immediately after its action has been for 
a few minutes suspended. 

With a cylinder machine the phenomena attending 
electrical light can be illustrated somewhat differently 
from the manner we have described 3 by which we 
learn that the forms as well as colours of the sparks 
are determined (other conditions being the same) 
by the nature of the electricity 3 whilst they partake 
of a mixed character when one substance is positively, 
and the other negatively, electrified. 

Nor must we omit to mention that the size, form, 
colour, and other attributes of the electric spark. 



[January 19, 1839. 

depend on the nature of the substances throvgh 
which it is transmitted, or upon which it is received; 
as also on the forms of those substances, and the di- 
rection in which the spark enters or leaves them } and 
whether it merely passes over, or penetrates beneath, 
their surfaces. Thus, the sparks which pass between 
the polished surfaces of most of the metals are 
intensely white ; but when communicated by a metal 
to any part of the human body, their colour inclines 
to violet. The sparks taken from ivory, box, and 
some.other kinds of wood are red, as they are also 
from green vegetable substances, from ice, or water, 
and in some cases from iron. From chalk, and 
many other minerals, their colour is white^ occasionally 
tinged with yellow ; whilst those from loaf-sugar, and 
gilt or silvered leather, are a beautiful green. 

But in many instances these colours are modified 
by particular circumstances, and by imperceptible 
gpradations become so nicely blended, as to lose all 
traces of their several peculiarities. This is effected 
by merely altering the forms, or changing the 
relative positions, of the substances above enumerated. 
For instance : if we fix a piece of stout wire (about six 
inches long, and having a sharp point at one end), 
upon the conductor, and bring near to it a brass ball, 
at a certain distance from its point, a rapid discharge 
of brilliant sparks will ensue ; but on slowly with- 
drawing the ball to a greater distance from the point, 
the sparks, gradually changing from white to violet, 
will at length disappear; their place being occupied 
by detached rays of violet-colouitid light. If we now 
reverse this experiment, fixing the ball on the con- 
ductor, and approaching it, at the same distance as 
before, with the point, there will be only a bright 
speck or star on the latter; the whole of the electricity 
excited by the machine being in this case silently and 
almost imperceptibly withdrawn. 

This experiment can be varied in the following 
manner: — Insert the pointed wire into a piece of 
glass tube about its own length, and quite smooth at 
the ends. On presenting one end of the tube, with 
the point just protruding, to the conductor, and then 
slowly withdrawing the point, sparks will pass between 
it and the conductor, within the tube, in the same 
manner as if a ball were used. 

As the influence of points upon bodies charged 
with electricity will occupy our attention more fully 
by and by, we shall only remark here, by way ^ 
caution, the necessity of avoiding angular and sharp- 
pointed projections in the preparation of electrical 
apparatus, ^e various parts of which, whether of 
wood, glass, or metal, require to be finished with 
their surfaces and edges as smooth as possible. 

Now let us descril^ a few, among the many, inge- 
nious contrivances, for exhibiting the electric spark 
when passing through air, and its effects on various 
substances which may be placed within its influence. 

We begin with the spiral-tube, which 
is sometimes fitted with a spherical 
brass cap at each end, and is then in- 
tended to be held in the hand, car it 
can be fixed to a stand, as in the ac- 
companying figure. It is constructed 
in the following manner : — two glass 
tubes, one to go within the other, are 
provided; the smallest being about 
three-fourths of an inch in diameter, 
and eighteen inches long, and the 
other an inch shorter. On the out- 
side of the small tube discs of tin- 

foil are pasted in a spiral form, a 

space equal to about the one-fiftieth of an inch being 
kft between them. The smaUcr tube is made longer 

than the other, that it miry enter the brass cap A, 
and by means of a piece of tin-foil, be brought into 
metallic contact with it. The end A being plaottl «t 
the distance of about an inch from the conductor^ 
on turning the machine a series of beautiful sparks^ 
following each other very rapidly, will pass along the 
tube, and when the room is darkened will resemble a 
continuous stream, rather than intermitting corusca- 
tions of light. 

It will of course be understood, that if the discs 
were in contact, the effect, as described, would not be 
produced ; for electricity is not visible when passing 
through good conductors ; the light, therefore, is occa- 
sioned by its forcing a passage across the thin column 
of air interposed between the edges of the discs. 

Here is another piece of apparatus, consisting of 
five spiral tubes, ahc (not seen in 
the fig.) d and e, which are ar- 
ranged around a stand k, on the < 
centre of which is fixed an insu- 
lated glass pillar f. At the top of 
this pillar is a small brass rod, /, a 
placed horizontally, to which are 
attached three brass balls, ghi^ 
and underneath the latter ball is 
a small pivot, on which the rod 
revolves. The lower extremities 
of the tubes are in metallic con- 
tact, a thin brass ring being let 
into the stand for that purpose. 

The conductor, or, what is more 
convenient, a jointed arm con- 
nected with it, being brought im- 
mediately over the ball t and the 
rod / set in motion, on working 
the machine, the rod will revolve with considerable 
velocity, communicating electricity to each of the 
tubes in succession, which will exhibit streams of 
light in a spiral form, and in the dark it will appear 
as if the tubes themselves were in motion, the illu- 
sion being assisted by reflection from the glass pillar 
in the centre. 

Luminous words and figures are also successfully 
employed in illustrating the properties of electricity. 
Let abed be a neat frame of well-seasoned maho- 
gany, containing two plates of glass, of equal size 
and perfectly flat; on one of the plates narrow strips 
of tin-foil are pasted, forming an unbroken connexion 
throughout the seven parallel lines, which extend 
nearly firom end to end of the glass, communicating 
at one extremity with the brass bidl x, and at the 
other with f. When the paste is dry, the foil is 
divided by a sharp knife, the separations being so 
arranged that they may form .the word LIGHT, or 
any other word or device that may be required. The 
other plate of glass is intended only to protect the 
tin-foil from dust or accidental disarrangement. The 
ball B being placed near the conductor, whilst f com* 
municates by a chain with the floor, on passing a suc- 
cession of sparks through the foil, the word or device 
delineated on it will appear in luminous characters 
on the surface of the glass. 


PuBUSBXD ur Wbkxlt NvMnas. pkiob Omb Pemitt, aiidiii Moittblt Pautb. 

Pbicb SlXrBKCB. 

Sold by all Bf^kBtUeii and NewiTen^tn ia th« KiDgaqm. 

i?. 421 JANUARY 

26™, 1S39. 



[January 2C, 




The ceremonial law of the Jews was directly designed 
to preserve them as a peculiar people, dedicated to 
Jehovah their God and King. Their form of govern- 
ment was a Theocracy; the Almighty himself was 
their sovereign, and He made known his edicts hy the 
authorized interpreters of his will. But it was ne- 
cessary under such a constitution to take especial 
care that no pretender should mislead the multitude, 
as the High Priest delivered the responses from the 
oracular Urim and Thummim, hy which all affairs, 
religious, civil, political, and military, were regulated ; 
grave evils were likely to occur if there had been any 
room for doubt as to the person who should have 
the exclusive right to discharge such important 
functions. The priesthood was therefore rendered 
hereditary in the family of Aaron, and the perform- 
ance of minor sacerdotal duties was restricted to the 
tribe of Levi. It is sufficiently obvious that the 
hereditary priesthood was not only an essential ele- 
ment of the Theocracy, but the very bond of union 
by which all the parts of that constitution were held 
together. Hence, as we have seen in the preceding 
article of this series, the revolt of Korah was severely 
punished, and the sacerdotal privilege of offering 
incense invested with cfingular importance. But 
another miracle was wrought to confirm the priest- 
hood of Aaron, to which it is necessary to direct 

Tlie Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto the 
children of Israel, and take of every one of them a rod 
according to the house of their fathers, of all their princes 
according to the house of their fathers twelve rods: write 
thou every man's name upon his rod. And thou shalt 
write Aaron's name upon the rod of Levi : for one rod shall 
be for the head of the house of their fathers. And thou 
shalt lay them up in the tabernacle of the congregation 
before the testimony, where I will meet with you. And it 
shall come to pass, that the man*8 rod, whom I shall choose, 
shall blossom : and I will make to cease from me the mur- 
m urines of the children of Israel, whereby they murmur 
against you. And Moses spake unto the children of Israel, 
and every one of their princes gave him a rod apiece, for 
each prince one, according to their fathers' bouses, even 
twelve rods : and the rod of Aaron was among their rods. 
And Moses laid up the rods before the Lord in the taber- 
nacle of witness. And it came to pass, that on the morrow 
Moses went into the tabernacle of witness; and, behold, 
the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was budded, and 
brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded 
almonds. And Moses brought out all the rods from befoie 
the Lord unto all the children of Israel : and they looked, 
and took every man his rod. 

And the Lord said unto Moses, Bring Aaron s rod again 
before the testimony, to be kept for a token against the 
rebels; and thou shalt quite take away their murmurings 
from me, that they die not. And Moses did so : as the 
Lord commanded him, so did he. (Numbers xvii. 1 — 11.) 

The memory of this signal miracle was perpetuated 
among the Jews not only by the preservation of the 
rod, but by their coins, for the most common im- 
pression on the shekels of Jerusalem was the almond- 
flowers that budded on the rod of Aaron. From the 
monuments we see why this peculiar test was chosen; 
the wand or rod was the official ensign of dignity 
among the Egyptians like the sceptres of the Greeks, 
or the white staves used in most modem nations ; the 
heads of the tribes therefore presented to the Lord 
the emblems of their station, and the singular miracle 
wrought in Aaron's favour was the strongest reproof 
of their rebellion and unbelief, and the most signal 
confirmation of Aaron and his family having been 
chosen to fill the place of Grod's ambassadors, and to 

interpret his commands to the people He had chosen 
as his peculiar care. 


So familiar were the Israelites, during their resi- 
dence in Eg3rpt, with the notion that the rod was the 
emblem and cognizance of dignity, that they never 
afterwards disputed the title of Aaron to the High 
Priesthood. Soon afterwards they had another op- 
portunity of seeing the efficacy which God had given 
to this ensign of dignity, when Moses, by striking 
the rock, produced springs of water at Meribah. 
But on this occasion Moses and Aaron showed a 
want of confidence in the power and promises of the 
Almighty, which was the more criminal on account 
of the mighty miracles that had been so recently 
wrought in their favour. They were punished by 
being excluded from the Promised Land, and con- 
demned to die in the wilderness. As the congregation 
journeyed from Meribah, an unexpected obstacle was 
offered to their progress : the king of £dom refused 
to allow the Israelites a passage through his terri- 
tories, and they were commanded by God not to 
force their way, but to take a circuitous route by the 
mountains on the frontiers. The country which they 
traversed has only been recently explored by the en- 
terprise of European travellers, and though more 
than three thousand years have elapsed since the 
Exodus, the country through which they travelled 
bears many decisive proofs of the truth of the Scrip- 
tural narrative. The name of the desert, El Zih, or 
the wandering, is a testimony to the wanderings of 
the Israelites. Laborde, whose travels through that 
country abound in the strongest confirmations of the 
veracity of the Pentateuch, says, " The Bible is so 
concise, but at the same time marked by so much 
precision and truth, that it is only by close and fixed 
attention to every word of its statements, that its 
entire merits can be discovered." This is singularly 
verified by the existing monument confirmatory of 
the events recorded to have occurred at Mount Hor. 

The Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron in Mount Hor, 
by the coast of the land of Edom, saying, Aaron shall be 
gathered unto his people: for he shall not enter into the 
land which I have given unto the children of Israel, 




because yo robelled ^tkinst 1117 word nt the irater of Mv- 
ribiih. Tuke Aaron ami Eteaxar his »on, end briiii; ll.eni 
up ui'lu Mount Hor; and «trip Aarou of liiii gai'monts, 
111(1 put lliein upuir Elcazar his Eon: and Aaron ^linll lie 
fcalliored unto his people, and ihall die there. And Moses 
did >i the Lord commanded: and Ihey went up into Mount 
Hor in the si^'ht of all the congregation. And Moses 
(tri])ped Aaron of his garmenls, and put thetu upon 
EleaiBr his son ; and Aaron died there in the lop of the 
nuuni: and Moses and EleazarcaniQ ilonn froin the mount. 
Andtfhen all ihe congregation saw that Aaron was dead, 
Ihey mourned for Aarun tliiity da] s, even all the house of 
Israel. (Nurobers xx. 23 — 29.) 

The tomb of Aaron on Monnt Hor is one of the 
most conspicuous objects ia the land of Edom; after 
haviug remained unknown to Jews and Christians for 
so many centurits as have elapsed since the death of 
tlie lir«t high priest of Israel, it has bten discovered 
again within the last few years, situated iu the midst 
of a land whose inhabitants in ancient times were 
among the roost inveterate enemies of the Israelites, 
and whose present occupants are wild Arabs equally 
opposed to the Jewish and Christian faith. 

When the days of mourning for Aanm were 

passed, the iHraelitea went and encamped at Zalmuna, 

which signifies "the place of the image," a name 

which it received from the representation of a serpent 

erected by Moses. The rebellious Israelites once 

more gave vent to seditious murmurings, and 

The Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and ihey 

bit the people; and much people of Israel died. Thcreforo 

the people came to Mosca, and said. We have sinned, for 

we hate spoken Bt,'ainst the Lord, and against thee; pray 

uato the Lord, that he luko away the serpents from us. 

And Hoses prayed for the people. And Ihe Lord said 

(ulD Moses, Make thee a fiery berpent, and set it upon a 

wle: and it shall come to pass, thai every one that is 

\ma, when he looketb upon it, shall live. And Moses 

mde 1 serpent of brusi, and put it upon a pole, and it 

onie to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when 

htWtaeld the aerpeatof brass, he lived. (Numbers xxi. 

Thii lively image of the deliverance of the whole 
bumtD nee from the pnwer of " the old serpent," is 
• itmatkable type of our Great Redeemer, and one 
toahich He himself has distinctly referred. 

AtHoKS lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even 
Wnuit the Son of man he lifted up: that whosoever be- 
Undi in him should not perish, but have eternal life. 
Clilmiii. 14, IS.) 

Bot this memorial of their wondrous deliverance 
nbiequently became a snare to the idolatrous Jews ; 
At the worihip of the principle of evil, through fear, 
Under the form of a serpent, was, aa we have stated 
ii the first paper of this Bcriee, one of the most com- 
Ven fbntis of idolatrous snperstitioa, not only in 

Egypt but through the entire East. It is impossible 
to account fur a worship so degrading to hnmanity, 
and utterly inconsistent with every suggestion of 
reason or natural feeling, otherwise than by connect- 
ing it with the traditions respecting the full of man, 
traces of which are found in the mythologies of all 
ancient nations. The Jews worshipped the brasen 
serpent when they sank into the idolatry which had 
already proved so fatal to their brethren, the ten 
tribes of Israel. From the general neglect of sacred 
things, it is probable that the bulk, both of the priests 
and the people, had foi^otten the original purpose 
and signification of the consecrated image, and had 
eagerly seized the opportunity afforded by Its preser- 
vation in the sanctuary, to indulge their insane love 
for adopting the superstitions of surrounding nations. 
Hence tlie brasen serpent was destroyed by the good 
king, Hezfkiab, when he purified Judah from the 
idols which had been erected during the long period 
of corruption that preceded bis accession to the 
throne of David. 

Ho removed the high places, and brake the images, and 
cutduunthe t>rovt's, and brake in pieces the brasen sec- 
pent that Aluaes hud made: for unto those days the children 
of Israel did burn incense to it : and he called it Ne- 
hushlan. (? Kings kviii. 4.) 

Nekushlan signifies " a piece of brass," and Heze- 
kiah gave the idol that contemptiiuus name, in order 
to show tliat when the brasen serpent had fulfilled 
the purpose for which God caused it to be made, it 
possessed no more sanctity or importance than any 
other piece of metal. Tbis was the mure neces- 
sary, as nothing has more tended tu extend the 
worship of images, than venerating the relics or me- 
morials of providential events ; a snare into which 
not only the Jews, but several Christian nations have 
unfortunately fallen. 

Alter the Israelites had conquered the Amorites 
and several other warlike tribes, a terror fell upon 
the surrounding nations, and Balak, king of Muab, 
employed the Midianite prophet, Balaam, to curse 
them. But Balaam, constrained by Almighty power, 
was compelled to change bis words of execration into 
benediction, and " bless the children of Israel 
altogether." The unworthy prophet, however, found 
more efficacious means to injure the chosen race ; at 
his suggestion Balak directed his subjects lo celebrate 
the festival of Baal-Peor, or the Idol of Liiisi, whose 
worship consisted in the most abuniinable and licen- 
tious ceremonies, but which, under various forms, 
was not unly tolerated but encouraged by most of the 
ancient heathen nation?, even when they had made a 
considerable advance in civilization. The Israelites 
bad probably been acquainted with this form of 
idolatry in Egypt, for the figure in the following 
engraving is believed to be one of the deities wor- 
shipped with obscene and execrable rites i they there- 
fore yielded to the suggestions of the daughters of 
Moab, who had been sent to entice them. 

gods. And Israel joined himself uuto Baulpeur: and the 
anger of the Lord was kindled ugainst larael. (Numbers 

XXV. a, 3.) 

Tlie immediate chastisement of the worst offenderfl 
averted the vengeance of Jehovah ; the false prophet, 
Balaam, was soon after slain, together with a multi- 
titude of the Midiaitites, who had joined in leading 
the Israelites into this grievous crime. 

Soon after this defecti<m Moses took an account of 
the people, and found that none were left alive of 
those who had come up out of Egypt, save himself, 
Joshua, and Caleb; he then made \Uti\viti:s*«ri le^g^- 
Istlons for l\>e t\\Btu\jMV\OU wi CMvawv\ \\eV««WV "&« 



[Jakuakt 26, 

several tribes by lot, and having thus completed hia 
legislaiion, he asctnded Mount Nebo, one of the 
highest peaks in tlic chain of Aharim, whence he had 
a view of the promised land, which he was forhjdden 
to enter. Instead of murmuring at this dispensation, 
Moses humbly sought directions as to the choice of 
his successor : 

Moses spnke unto the Lord, saying. Let the Lord, the 
Ood of the spirit! of all Hesh, set a man over the con|;re- 
eatlon, which msy i^ out before Ihem, and nbicb may go 
m before tbem, and ivhich may lead them out, and which 
may brini; them in ; ihat the confireKatiou of the Lord be 
not as sheep which have lio slicpberd. (Numbets xxvii. 
IS— 17.) 

Joshtia was selected by God to lead the Israelites 
to the conquest of Canaan, and the directions given 
for his installation are, on many accounts, tco im- 
portant to be omitted. 

The Lord said unto lilose^. Take thee Joshaa, the son of 
Nutii a man in whom is the spirit, and lay thine hand upon 
him ; And set him before Eleozar the priest, and before all 
the coDgreealioD ; and give him a charge in Iheir sight. 
And thou shalt put some of thine honour upon him, ihat 
all the congregation of the children of Israel may be obe- 
dient. And he shall stand before Elcazar the priest, who 
shall ask counsel for him after the judgment of Uriro 
before the Lord: at bis word they shall go out, and at 
his word they shall cume in, both be, and all tlie children 
of Israel with him, even all the congregation. And Motes 
did as the I.ord commanded him ; and be look Jo»hua, 
and set him befaic Eleszar the priest, and before all the 
congregation: And he laid hia bands upon him, and gave 
bitn a charge, as Ibe Lord commanded by the band of 
Mosea. (Numbers sxvii. IB— S3.) 

la Deuteronomy, chap, xviii. 15, Moses declares, — 

The Lord thy God nil! raise up unto thee a Prophet from 
the roidst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him 
ye shall hearken ; According to all that thou desiredst of 
the Lord thy G«d in Horeb in ibe day of the assembly, 
saying, Let me not bear again the voice of the Lord my God, 
neither let mo see this great Bra any more, that I die not. 

The modem Jews affirm, that this prophecy was 
fulfilled by the appointment of Joshua as successor 
of Moses ; but if we attentively consider the divine 
declaration, made at the lime of his appoiatment, we 
shall see that Joshua was not only inferior to Moses, 
but to the generality of the prophets, since he was 
to have recunrse to the tirim and thummim in all emer- 
gencies, whereas the former spoke to God " face to 
face," aud the latter were always ready to declare the 
mind of God to those that came to consult them. In 
fact, Joshua could not be at all called a prophet 
without a great abuse of terms, for he was himself 
subject to direction, and received all revelations of the 
Divine will through the intervention of the high priest. 

' Moses, having thtu accomplished all the injunctiotu 
of Jehovah, addressed the children of Israel, in a 
most poetic and affectionate recapitulation of the 
blessings they had experienced, and of the duties 
they owed to their Benefactor. He died at the ad- 
vanced age of one hundred and twenty j " htD eye 
was not dim, nor bis natural force abated.*' His 
sepulchre was carefully concealed, in order that it 
might not become an object of idolatrous veneration 
to the Israelites. It is to this that St. Jude alludes 
in the following passage, which refers to a traditioa 
common among the Jews. 

Yet Michael the archangel, when, coatending with the 
devil, be disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring 
against him a railing accusation, but said. The Ixird re- 
buke thee. (Jude 9.) 

No doubt, a people that worshipped the brasen 
serpent, would have shown at least equal reveRDce 
for the body and tomb of their great legislator, had 
not both been concealed by the wise precautions of 


Whilr travelling along the banks of a small branch of Iha 
Inn river, in the Tyrol, with my hammer in my hand, 
searching for specimens of the rooks and minerals which 
are found in its bed, my attention was auddenty attrftcted 
to the operations of a lad about aiiteeo years old, who was 
actively employed in examining the water-worn rocki that 
lay partly anove water in the stream. Every few minutes 
heatruck the rocks heavily with a large sledge-hammer, 
and then picked up something, and put it into a basket, 
which he carried at hia side. He moved actively, jumping 
from rock to rock along the stream, and appeared to be very 
successful in hi* labour. As he was coming down Ibe 
stream towards me, I seated myself on a rt>ck,and obsenetl 
■llenlively his movement!. I supposed at first that be was 
a brother mineralogist, aud as be eppioached me, I hailed 
him lo learn what success he had in his researches, and 
what ho was so eagerly eollecting. To my great surprise 1 
fijund his basket filled, not with curious minerals, but with 
small and delicate fishes, resembling in aiie our common 
smelt, but in shape and colour ihey looked more like ancho- 
vies. He informed me that ibey were esteemed a great 
luxury at Inspruck, and were the most dehcate fish of TyroL 
His mode of taking them was the most suceessftil, for he 
observed that they would not take the hook, and as they 
conoealed themselves close to the sides of rocks, it was dif- 
ficult to eatcb them with a net. 

It will be easily understood, by any one conversant with 
natural philosophy, how the concussion given to a rock in 
the brook was communicated, either directly by the rocji, 
or through the medium of the water, to the Bsb, whose deli- 
cate organization could not sustain its violence, and that 
tbey were in this manner stunned, and their sounds or air- 
vessels being ruptured, they came to the surface, where 
they were easily taken. I often observed, when a boy, that 
if a smelt dropped from the hook, at a considerable height. 
into the water, it was stunned by the shock, and floated 
upon its back ; also that when a fish was discovered close 
to the bottom, in shallow water, the surface of which was 
frozen, if a smart blow was struck upon the ice, immedi- 
ately over the fish, it generally came up to the ice, floating 
upon its back and dead. We were in tne habit of explain- 
ing the fact by saying that its air-bladder was btoken. 

It is not more evident that the body was made to he im- 
proved anil Blrengthened, than that the mind was also mad* 
to be improved by knowledge ; hence be who learns, if ha 
learns well, not only finds learning easier the further be 
advances, but understands better what he learns. Sdence 
is not arbitrary, or composed of detached and isolated parts; 
it is one connected series of truths, centreing in the Ueily. 
and embracing the largest and the smallest, the nearest 
and the most remote, portions of his universe. So he who 
learns not, or ceases to lenrn, does not fulfil his destiny— 
which is, lo become acquainted, as far as in his power, 
with all truth. He can kuow neither his Creator ngr him- 
self; although his greatest happiness depends upon thia 
knowledge. — J 





The bellows is one of those domestic instraments 
which are so familiar to us that we are apt to forget 
that there was a time when it did not exist, and that 
it must have gone through several stages before it 
arrived at its present excellence. It may not be unin- 
teresting to present to our readers a short account of 
the contrivances which preceded the use of, and were 
employed for the same purpose as, the modem bellows: 

The most simple bellows is undoubtedly the 
month; since the same mechanism which will direct 
a stream of air into a flute or trumpet, will, by a 
different arrangement of the lips and tongue, propel 
a blast of air into a newly-kindled fire -, the object 
being to supply the fire with a larger amount of 
oxygen (contained in the atmospheric air,) than will 
readi it in the ordinary way But although the 
month may, as most persons have probably observed, 
act as a bellows, yet the fatiguing nature of the pro- 
cess must at an early period have induced a desire to 
construct a machine for effecting the same object. 

There are many remarks scattered among the works 

of the ancient writers which seem to imply that 

leathern bellows were known among them ; but the 

mformation conveyed is not so definite as to deserve 

mach reliance. It appears that in later times, when 

nneltiog-fiimaces, used in manufacturing districts, 

had increased in number and importance, the heat of 

thefamaces was increased by the use of bellows, which 

seem to have consisted of leathern bags, with a hollow 

leed iaserted at a small opening. After a time metal 

tubes were used instead of hollow reeds, and the 

Ics^iem bags became superseded by wooden cases. 

As we are accustomed, in the present day, to use 

bellows in which the edges of the boards are connected 

bj itrips of flexible leather, it may seem strange that 

ImUows shonld have been used which were constructed 

CDtirdy of wood^ with the exception of the nozzle. 

Yet such was the case. In 1550 an organ-builder at 

^vembnrg, named Hans Lobsinger, announced the 

^^onstmction of bellows, in which the sides, as well as 

'^ top and bottom, were made of wood. No further 

^3etiils are, however, known respecting his bellows. 

^Qt about 1 630, two brothers, Martin and Nicholas 

^elhom, at Coburg, in Franconia, constructed 

'Wooden bellows, of which a clearer account has been 

'^nsmitted. These brothers behaved as inventors 

^K wont to do: they endeavoured to conceal the 

^tore of their invention, until they had reaped an 

adequate profit by the manufacture. 

About Uie same period, an individual named Louis 
I^fionenschmid came from Thuringia, and settled at 
^htfdd in the Hartz Forest, where many furnaces 
'^vere at work, and set up business as a wooden hello ws- 
^uker. The makers of leather bellows, who previously 
aifed in that place, conspired against him, and swore 
'^kf would put him to death — a threat which would 
¥nbably have been fulfilled, had not Pfannenschmid 
'jecn formally protected by the government. The 
"^odc of making these wooden bellows was for a long 
•cries of years known only to the family of Pfannen- 
•^mid, who continued to make all those used in the 
wtz Forest. From Germany these bellows gradu- 
•Wy found their way into France. 

These bellows consisted mainly of two boxes, or 
CMei, made of fir wood, one of which was a little 
Soulier than the other, so as to be able to be placed 
^tbin it, and to enclose a body of air between them. 
At one end was situated a kind of hinge, on which the 
ipper case turned, somewhat in the manner of the 
U of a snnff'-box. Beyond this hinge was a nozzle, 
tbrough which a portion of air was forced out, at cverv 
downward motion of the upper half of the case, 

It is obvious that when the upper half of the case 
was raised by a handle at one end, the space between 
the two halves became enlarged, and a greater bulk 
of air could be contained therein. This air entered at 
a valve-hole in the lower half, as in the ordinary bel- 
lows. As it would have been impossible, however, to 
make the upper box fit on the lower one so closely 
as to be air-tight, much air would escape from 
between the two, instead of passing through the 
nozzle. To obviate this, moveable slips of wood were 
placed on the inner sides of the uppermost case, and 
were so acted on by metallic springs, that they became 
pressed against the sides of the lower case, so that 
no air could pass out between the edges of the two 

These bellows were sometimes made of a large size, 
to be used in furnaces 3 and the end of the handle had 
facilities for fixing ropes, &c., so as to work the 
bellows by pulleys, or other similar means. Beck- 
mann, who wrote in the last century, said that these 
wooden bellows, when well made, would last thirty or 
forty years, although used almost daily in furnaces. 
The bolt which acted as a hinge, and the outer side 
of the edge of the inner box required to be oiled and 
greased occasionally. 

These wooden bellows are now superseded, for 
domestic use, by the modern bellows with leathern 
edges, which can be made and sold for a small price ; 
while furnaces, forges, &c., are, generally speaking, 
furnished with large double bellows, the action of 
which, as instanced at a smith's forge, may be briefly 
described. The double bellows nearly resemble the 
single or domestic bellows in external appearance ; 
but the interior cavity is divided into two parts or 
chambers by a middle board, similar to the lower 
board, and furnished also, like it, with an. upward- 
opening valve : these three boards are connected at 
the edges by leather. The middle board is fixed hori- 
zontally; and the nozzle is in communication with 
the upper compartment, only at the time when air is 
about entering the lower compartment. This being the 
disposition of the parts, the action is as follows. When 
the lower board is raised by the handle, the air con- 
tained in the lower compartment is driven through the 
valve in the middle board, into the upper compartment. 
The quantity thus forced into this compartment is 
greater than can escape through the nozzle in the 
same time 3 the consequence of which is, that the 
upper board is pressed upwards, so as to enlarge the 
capacity of that chamber. Weights are placed upon 
the upper and lower boards, by which they are borne 
down, when the upward motion of the handle ceases. 
As the upper board descends, the air contained in the 
upper compartment closes the valve in the middle 
board, and is forced out through the nozzle. During 
this time, the lower compartment, by the descent of 
the lower board, obtains a new supply of air ; which 
supply is, upon the lower board being again raised, 
partly propelled through the nozzle, and partly accu- 
mulated in the upper compartment, as before. By 
this ingenious arrangement, air is forced through the 
nozzle, both by the upward and downward motion 
of the handle ; whereas in the common single bellows 
the downward motion is alone effective. 

There is a useful form of domestic bellows, which 
has been lately invented, in which a continuous stream 
of air is obtained, by turning a handle connected 
with an ingenious contrivance in the interior. 

Ridicule, which chiefly arises from pride, a scIGsh passion, 
is at best but a gross pleasure, too rough an entortainment 
for those who are highly polished and redw^d^-— Vxs^^:^ 



[Janxjarv 26, 


No. IL 

Natives on the Darling. 

We continue our extracts from Major MitchelFs in- 
teresting account of his discovery of Australia Felix. 

Two stout natives rudely demanded my pistols irom my 
belt, whereupon I drew one, curious to see the effect, and 
fired it at a tree. The scene which followed I cannot satis- 
factorily describe, or represent, although I shall never forget 
it. As if they had previously suspected we were evil demons, 
and had at length a clear proof of it, they repeated, with 
tenfold fury, accompanied with hideous shouts and demoniac 
looks, crouching and jumping to a war-song they set up, all 
their gestures of defiance; spitting, springing with the spear, 
and throwing dust at us, as they slowly retired. In snort, 
their hideous crouching, measured gestures, and low jumps, 
all to the tune of a wild song, and the fiendish glare of 
their countenances, appropriately black, and now all eyes 
and teeth, seemed a fitter spectacle for Pandemonium, than 
the light of the bounteous sun. Thus these savages slowly 
retired along the river-bank, all the while dancing in a cir- 
cle, like the witches in Macbeth, and leaving us in the ex- 
pectation of their return, and perhaps an attack in the morn- 
ing. Any further attempt to appease them was out of the 
question; whether they were by nature implacable, or 
whether their inveterate hostility proceeded from some 
cause of disquiet or appreliension unimaginable to us, it 
was too probable they might ere long force upon us the pain- 
ful necessity for making them acquainted with the superi- 
ority of our arms. The manner and disposition of tlicse 
people were so unlike those of the natives in general, that 
I hoped they might be an exception to the general charac- 
ter of those we were to meet with : an evil-disposed tribe 
perhaps, and at war with all around them. The difference 
in disposition between tribes not very remote from each 
other was often very striking. We had left, at only three 
days' journey behind us, a tribe of as kind and civil natives 
as any I had met with ; and I was rather at a loss now to 
understand how they could exist so near fiends like these. 
I believe the peculiar character of different tribes is not to 
be easily changed by circumstances. I could certainly 
mention more instances of well-disposed tribes on the Dar- 
ling, where indeed, until now, all had met us half way with 
the branch of peace. We had not yet accomplished one 
half of our journey to the Murray, from the junction of the 
Began and Darling, and it was no very pleasant prospect 
still before us, to have to travel such a distance where all the 
inhabitants might be Uke these. 

The Riyer Murray. 

Proceeding next directly towards some high trees at the 
western extremity of the plains, we reached a favourable 
bend of the Murray, and there encamped. 

This magnificent stream was 165 yards broad, its waters 
were whitish, as if tinged with some flood, the height of the 
red bank not subject to inundation, was 25 feet, and by 
comparing these measurements with the Murrumbidgee, 
which at Weyeba was 50 yards wide, with banks 11 feet 
high, (and that seemed a fine river,) some idea may be 
formed of the Murray. At the place where we encamped 
the river had no bergs, for its bank conissted of the common 
red earth, covered with the acacia bushes and scrub of the 
interior plains. The land at the point opposite was lower, 
with sand, and a slight rapid was occasioned in the stream 
by a dike of ironstone. 

Australian Rivers. 

One remarkable difference between the Murray and the 
Murrumbidgee was, that in the latter, even where reeds 
most prevailed, a certain space near the bank remained 
tolerably clear: whereas on this river, on the contrary, the 
reeds grew most thickly and closely on its immediate banks, 
thus presenting a much less imposing appearance than the 
Murrumbidgee, with its firmer banks, crowned with lofty 
forests of " yarra." Each Australian river seems to have 
some peculiar character, sustained with remarkable uni- 
formity throughout the whole course. 

Approach to Australia Felix. 

June 29.— Tlie party moved forward in the direction of 
Mount Hope, and leaving the hill on the left, continued 
towards Pyramid Hill, where we encamped at about three- 
quarters of a mile from its base. We were under no re- 

straint now in selecting a camp from any scarcity of water 
or grass, for every hollow in the plains contained some 
water, and grass grew everywhere. The strips of wood 
which diversified the country, as seen from the hills, gene- 
rally enclosed a hollow, with polygonum bushes, but without 
any marks of ever having had any water in them, although 
it may be presumed that in very wet seasons, it must lodge 
there, as in so many canals, and this, indeed, seemed to 
me to be a country where canals would answer well, not so 
much perhaps for inland navigation, as for the better distri- 
bution of water over a fertile country, enclosed as this is by 
copious rivers. 

Richness of the Soil. 

Jvly 9. — In continuing the same line of route, we crossed 
several minor rivulets^ all flowing through open grassy 
vales, bounded by finely-undulating hills. At about three 
miles we came to a deep chain of ponds, the banks being 
steep and covered with grass : keeping a tributary to thai 
channel on our left, we passed some low hills of quartz ; 
and a little beyond them, at leneth crossed some poor hills 
of the same rock, the wood being an open box-forest. 
After travelling through a little bit of scrub, we descended 
on one of the most beautiful spots I ever saw; — the turf, 
and the woods, and the banks of the little stream which 
murmured through the vale, had so much the appearance 
of a well-kept park, that I felt loth to break it by the pas- 
sage of our cart-wheels. Proceeding for a mile and a half 
along this rivulet through a valley wholly of the same 
description, we at length encamped on a flat of a rich earth 
(nearly quite black), and where the anthistiria grew in 
greater luxuriance than I had .ever before witnessed in 
Australian grass. The earth seemed to surpass in richness 
any that I had seen in New South Wales, and I was even 
tempted to bring away a specimen of it. 

Sensations on Discovery. 

July 13.— We bad at length discovered a country ready 
for the immediate reception of civilized man, and fit* to 
become eventually one of the great nations of the earth 
Unincumbered with too much wood, yet possessing enough 
for all purposes ; with an exuberant soil under a temperate 
climate ; bounded by the sea-coast and mighty rivers, and 
watered abundantly by streams from lofty mountains : thii 
highly-interesting region lay before me with all its fea« 
tures new and untouched as they fell from the hand of the 
Creator I Of this Eden it seemed that I was the only 
Adam ; and it was indeed a sort pf paradise to me, per- 
mitted thus to be the first to explore its mountains and 
streams—- to behold its scenery^^to investigate its geological 
character— and, finally, by my survey, to develop those 
natural advantages all still unknown to the civilizea worid, 
but yet certain to become, at no distant date, of vast im> 
portance to a new people. The lofty mountain-range which 
I had seen on the 11th was now before us, but still distant 
between thirty and forty miles ; and as the cattle required 
rest, I determined on an excursion to its lofty eastern 
summit, * 

Sunrise on the Grampians. 

July 15.— At six o'clock the sky became clear, the clouds 
had for once indeed left the mountain, and as soon as it 
was day, I mounted the frozen rock. But in the twilight 
all lower objects were blended in one gray shade, like the 
dead-colouring of a picture. I could only distinguish a 
pool of water, apparently near the foot of a mountain. This 
water I afterwards found to be a lake eight miles distant, 
and which I named Lake Lonsdale. I hastily levelled my 
theodolite, but the scene, although sublime enough for the 
theme of a poet, was not at all suited to the more common- 
place objects of a surveyor, for tlw lower world was as 
obscure and undefined as our ideas of the world to come. 
The sun was rising amid red and stormy clouds, and vast 
masses of a white vapour concealed from view both sea and 
land, save where a few isolated hills were dimly visible. 
Towards the interior, the horizon was clear for awhile; and 
during a short interval, I took what angles I could obtain. 
To the westward, the view of the mountain -ranges was 
truly grand. Southward, or towards the sea, I could, at 
intervals, perceive plains clear of timber, and that the 
country was level, a circumstance of great importance to 
us; for I was apprehensive that between these mountains 
and the coast, the country might have been broken by 
mountain-gullies, as it is in the settled colony, and all 
along the eastern coast, in which case the carts could not 




h&ve been taken there, and I must have altered the plan 
of my intended route. Before I could observe the angles 
so desirable* clouds again enveloped the mountain, and I 
vais compelled finally to quit its summit, without completing 
the work. The wind blew keenly, the thermometer stood 
as low as 27^ and in the morning the rocks were incrusted 
wiib ice. 

The RiYSR Glenblg. 

•Tm/jt 31. — We now moved merrily over hill and dale, but 

were soon, however, brought to a full stop by a fine river, 

flowing, at the point where wc met it, nearly south-west. 

Tbe l^nks of this stream were thickly overhung with 

bushes of the mimosa, which were festooned in a very 

picturesque manner with the wild vine. The river was 

everywhere deep and full, and as no ford could be found, 

wejprepared to cross it with the boats. 

The river was here, on an average, 1 20 feet wide, and 

12 ieet deep. Granite protruded in some places, but in 

general, the bold features of the valley through which this 

ttream tlowed, were beautifully smooth and swelling ; they 

were not much wooded, but on the contrary, almost clear 

of timber, and accessible everywhere. The features were 

bold and round, but only so much inclined, that it was 

possible to ride in any direction without obstruction ; a 

quality of which those who have been shut up among the 

rocky gullies of New South Wales must know well the 

value. I named this river the Glenelg, after the Right 

Honourable the Secretary of State for the Colonies. 

Embouchure of the Glenelg. 

At length another change took place in the general 
Qoune of the river, which from west turned to east-south- 
nst. The height of the banks appeared to diminish 
npidly, and a very numerous flock of the small sea-swallow, 
or tern, indicated our vicinity to the sea. The slow-fiying 
peliean also, with its huge bill, pursued, regardless of 
stiingers, its straight-forward course over the waters. A 
KntU bushy island next appeared, having on it some rocks 
l^iembling what we should have thought a great treasure 
te, a pile of flour-bags, and we named it accordingly the 
Uo of Bags. Soon after passing the island, a few low 
Audy-looking hills appeared before us, and we found our- 
■elves between two basins wherein the water was very 
*lttllQw, although we had sounded just before in four 
^^ktboms. As a wide basin which then appeared directly 
^ll^fbre as had no outlet, we proceeded into another on the 
vight, and on rounding a low rocky point, we saw the 
S^een rolling breakers of the sea through an opening 
*fnught before us, which ])roved to be the mouth of the 
vi^. It consisted of two low rocky points, and as soon 
II we had pulled outside of them, we landed on the eastern 
^. In the two basins we had seen, there was scarcely 
^oiScient water to float the boats, and thus our hopes of 
tbding a port at the mouth of this fine river were at once 
>t an end. The sea broke on a sandy beach outside, and 
^ ascending one of the sand-hills near it, I perceived Cape 

There was no reef of rocks upon the bar; a circumstance 
to be regretted in this case, for it was obvious that the 
^trance to this fine river and the two basins was merely 
^^^oked up with the sand thrown up by the sea. The river 
^ four fathoms deep, the water being nearly fresh enough 
«* use within sight of the sea-shore. Unfortunately, per- 
"^P^ for navigation, there is but little tide on that coast : 
^0 greatest rise in the lower part of the river, (judging by 
floating weeds,) did not exceed a foot. 


The dawn has broke, the mom is up, 

Another day begun, 
And there thy poised and gilded spear 

Is flashing in the sun. 
Upon that steep and lofty tower 

Where thou thy watch hast kept, 
A true and faithful sentinel, 

While all around thee slept 

For years* upon thee there has poured, 

The 8ummor*8 noon-day heat, 
And throng the long, dark, starless nighty 

TIm winter tionns hare bioat ; 

But yet thy duty Ims been done, 

By day and night tho same ; 
Still thou hast watcliod and met the storm. 

Whichever way it came. 

No chilling blast in wrath has swept 

Along the distant heaven, 
But thou hast watch upon it kept, 

And instant warning given ; 
And when midsumnier^s sultry beams 

Oppress all living things, 
Thou dost foretell each breeze that conies 

W^ith health u2)on its wings. 

How oft I 've seen, at early dawn. 

Or twilight's quiet hour, 
Tlie swallows, in tlieir joyous glee. 

Come darting round tiiy tower. 
As if, with thee, to hail the sun, 

And catch his earliest light, 
And offer ye the monrs salute. 

Or bid ye both — ^good night. 

And when around thoe, or above, 

No breath of air has s;irr<,*d, 
Thou scem'dst to watcli the circling flight 

Of each free, happy bird ) 
Till, after twittering round thy head. 

In many a mazy track, 
The whole delighted company 

Uave settled on thy back. 

Then, if perchance amid their mirth, 

A gentle breeze has sprung, 
And prompt to mark its first approach. 

Thy eager form has swung, 
I 'vo thought I almost neard thee say, 

As far aloft they flew, 
* Now all away ! — hero ends our play. 

For I have work to do !' 

^len slander thee, ray honest friend. 

And call thee, in their pride. 
An emblem of their fickleness. 

Thou ever-faitlifid guide ! 
Each weak, unstable human mind 

A * weathercock' thev call ; 
And thus, unthinkingly, mankind 

Abuse thee, one and all. 

They have no right to make thy name 

A by-word for their deeds : 
They change thcii* friends, their principles. 

Their fashions, and their creeds ; 
While thou hast ne'er, like them, been known 

Thus causelessly to range, 
But when thou changest suiest canst give 

Good reason for the change. 

Tliou, like some lofty soul, whose course 

The thoughtless oft condemn, 
Art touched by many airs from heaven 

Which never broiithe on them ; 
And moved by many impulses 

Wliich they do never know. 
Who, 'romid their earth-bound circles, plod 

The dusty paths below. 

Through one more dark and cheerless night 

Thou well hast kept thy trust. 
And now in gloi-y o'er thy head 

The morning light has burst : 
And unto earth's true watcher, thus. 

When his dark hours have passed. 
Will come * the day-spring from on high. 

To cheer his path, at last. 

Bright symbol of fidelity. 

Still may I think of thee ; 
And may the lesson thou dost teach. 

Bo never lost on mo : 
But still, in sunshine or in storm. 

Whatever tabk is mine, 
May 1 be faithful to my trust. 

As thou Imst been to thine. A. 6. Grkxxe* 


[Jantjaky 26, 185 

TriE WHITE OWL, tStri. 

The White or Bam Owl is a well-known bird in 
Europe and Asis, and is found aim in North America. 
The grave look Dud retired habita of the owl induced 
the ancients to employ its image aa the symbol of 
wisdom, and we generally find it accompanying the 
ttatue of Minerva. In Tartary, according to Pen- 
nant, it is bononred for another reason. 
The MonguU and nntivea almost pay it divina honours, 
liecause Ihey attributa to tLia speciei the preservation of 
the founder of their empire, Ginghis Klian. That prince 
with hia small army happened to be surprised, and put to 
lli{;ht by bis enemies, and forced to conceal himnelf in a 
little coppice. An owl settled on the buah under which he 
wns hid, and induced his pursuers not to search there, us 
they thought it impossible that any man could be con- 
cealed in a place where that bird would pereh. From 
thenceforth they bold it to be saered, and every one wore a 
phimc of the feathers of this species on his head. To this 
day the Kalmui-ks continue the custom on all great festivals ; 
and some tribes have an idol in form of an owl, to which 
they fasten the legs of a real bird. 

The owl is a nocturnal bird of prey, and the bnahy 
appearance of its feathers wonld induce ns to believe 
it had a very large head, but when stripped of these 
the skull of an owl differs bnt little from that of the 
bank. It has, like that bird, a strong curved beak, to 
tear its prey; but as the owl contents itself with amaller 
game, this organ is not so powerful ; neither are the 
claws so strong. The food of these birds consists of 
bats, mice, rats, weasels, end other small quadrupeds 
that roam abroad in the evening ; and although they 
will at times destroy young pheasants and par- 
tridges, it is supposed that the injury inflicted by 
the owl ia not equal to the good performed by its 
destruction of vermin ; for the weasels in particular 
commit great havoc among the eggs of game. The 
quickness of the organ of sight in the owl is 
ai^tonishing; it will detect a small mouse, in the dusk 
of the evening, at a great distance, and fly down on 
it with nncrriog certaint}^. 

The eye itself is set in a cartilaginous case, som 
thing like the frame of a watch- 
maker's eye-glast. (see fig. 1.) This 
it is that gives that staring ap- 
pearance to the eye of the owl. 
Tht opening of the iris is also 
very lar^e, admitting aa much 
li^t as possible into the interior. 
By these means it ia able to dis- ''^' '" 

tingaish objects in a very subdued light. The organ 
hearing ia also extremely large, and well arranged f 
the purpose of catching the dullest sound. At tl 
same time the owl itself is able to bear with so mm 
Bcoteness, its own flight is effected with less noi 
than that of any other bird. Sitting on the rafters in ( 
old bam, as soon as some devoted mouse is discovcn 
on the floor, the owl gently and noiselessly sprcat 
its downy wings, and glides, not fliea, upon its pre; 
the only sound that is heard, with the exception 
the cry of its victim, is a dull knock, which is cause 
by the feet of the bird as they reach the ground 

The outward part of the ear in moat animals 
termed the concha, or trumpet, and it is curious i 
observe how the direction of the opening of th 
trumpet is varied, so aa to receive sounds from tl 
quarter from which the interests of the creature rt 
qoire information. ' Thus we find in all hunting an 
nals, such aa the dog and .the cat tribes, the openin 
of the concha is directed forwards^ while in thot 
whose safety consists in flight, the laine opening 
directed backwards, as, for instance, in the hare, tl 
rabbit, and all the ruminantia, nu± as the sheep, tl 
deer tribe, and others. 

To assist their power of hearing, all the timid rac 
of animals are tnmisfaed with larf^ outward ears, or 
the direction of the opening of which they have gre 
control, through the instrumentality of powerE 
muscles. The eye also is so placed, aa to have a te 
dency towards the same end, namely, the safety 
the animal. We find this organ very backward 
the skull of the sheep and the deer; and tbey see 
almost capable of seeing behind them ; while in t] 
cat tribe it is placed more in advance. 

So in the owl we find, in addition to the nsual coi 
trivancea to enable an animal to hear well, a larf 
circuitous chamber round the internal apparatus c 
each of the organs of hearing. In the engraving pat 
of the bone is removed, 
to show these cham- 
bers. This construc- 
tion of the bone also 
answers a double pur- 
pose. It renders is 
mnch lighter and less 
cnmberaome to the 
bird. ««v,.w .»«.-, ■..„„. 

In our judgment of men ve are to bevare of giving a; 
great importance to occasional acts. By acta of occasion 
virtue, weak men endeavour to redeem themeehes in the 
own estimation, vain men to exalt themselves in that 
mankind. It tfiay be observed that there arc no men mo- 
worthless and selllsh in iho general tenour of their li^-e 
than some who from time to time perform feats of gen 
rosity. Sentimental selfishness will commonly \ary i 
indiilf;ences in this way, and vain-glorious sclrislincss w 
breathe out into ads of munificence. But self-govcr 
ment and self-denial are not to be relied upon far any re 
strength, except in so far as tbey are found Co be esereisi 
in detail. T/ie Sfaicsman. 


Wn«,i NuiiiiH* '«" OKI PMBiti, lao w M«imi,i Pas 

raici Uinrtaat, 

^actitrlraiif i iHa^a^ tnr« 


JANUARY, 18£9 


Section I. 
If ihe importance att&cbed by tbe reader to a aubject de- 
pends upon its extensive u>e and demand among mankind, 
Gvapoteder uiiiit be a subject of more than common inter- 
ctL Tbis extraordinary substanco — a poweriiil weapon in 
the hands of the conquerorof nations — has Tor age* decided 
th<^ fate of mighty kincdomi. As a means of defence, aa 
well as of offence, to armieSi it hurls the murdering bullet 
vtth force and precision alike Iremendoui. Nor are its 
ufcs conBned to war and carnage. It aids tbe advance of 
civil! mion, hy becoming in the binds of the miner and 
engineer a ready means of overcoming the obiticles which 
are presented to them in their search after mineral treu- 
turcs, and in procuring materials far building. Immense 
blocks of atone, for architectural structures, are easily libe- 
rated from their ouarries by its means ; and it removes, by 
the sudden meclianical force of its explosion, obstacles 
wliich impede the progress of the engineer ; and so, to a 
great cxieot, accelerates the progress of human exertion 
at.d industry. Tho sportsman, too, owes much of his plea- 
kurc lo this agent, and tliu multitude maniTests its joy on 
festive occasions by witnessing fireworks prepared hy its 
mi-ant. The birth of princes and rulers it announces to Ibe 
■T'lrlU : it sntutes with its thundering voice the approach of 
those, who are, in tuimroon parlance, called greal. In short, 
ill uses, wbetlier in war, in tlie arts, in sport, ii) exhibitions, 
or in the thunder of its complimeiiU, are so extensive, and 
so varied, that we cannot wonder at the expression of any 
desire lo add to the knowledge of its uses thdt of ita History 
and ManufDcture. 

Tlic invention of gunpowder has been marked as one of 
those grand epochs in the history of human invention, sur- 
passed oniy by that of printing and of tlic steam-engine, ll 
does not belong to our present purpose to trace the effect of 
tlii* inventioD in the history of mankind, but «c may olludo to 
a common remark, that gunpowder bas tcoded to mul'evrar 
Vol. XIV, 

U. ll.T«oSl4mplg|-iBil 
l3.14,T>a niinb-ldllli. 

less sanguinary, and to diminish the mere animal ccuragA 
(which perhaps is only a refined term for ferocity and brui4 
force] and the conflict of revengeful passions, so certain to 
be excited when men meet in close conHict. It hw reduced 
war, in fact, to a science of taclia, in tho exorcise of which 
skilful management and conlrii ance arc of more avail than 
personal, individual valour. 

There is some doubt as to whether the ancients were ae< 
qualnted with gunpowder. Virgil, and many of his com- 
mentators, and other authors, speak in such a manner of 
Salmoneus's endeavours to imitate thunder, as lt> make ua 
think that he used a composition more or less resembling 
gunpowder. Tliis prince was so expert in mechonics, that 
Ilia machines imitated the noise of thunder; and the writer* 
of fable state that Jupiter, incensed at the audacity of tbi* 
prince, slew bim with lightning. It has been more natu- 
rally, but we know not how correctly, assumed that hs 
fell a lictim to some of his own experiments, Dion and 
Johannes Antiocbenus report of tho Emperor Caligula that 
be imitated thunder and lightning hy means of machines 
which at the same time threw out large ftonei. Themis- 
lius states that the Brachmans encountered one another 
with thunder and lightning, which tbey had the art of 
launching from on high at n considerable distance. Ago- 
thius reports of Antbcmius Traliensis, that, having quar- 
relled with his nti|>bbour Zeno, the rhetorician, ho set lire 
to the house of the latter with thunder and lightning. 
I'hilostralus, speaking of the Indinn Ea|>es, says lliat when 
they were attacked by their enemies, they did not quit tb« 
walls lo fight them, but repelled and put them to Higbt with 
thunder and lightning. H e also alleges that Biicchu* and 
Hercules, ailempting to assnii tliem in a fort where the*- 
were intrenched, were so roughly received by reiterated 
strokes of thunder and lightning launched upoii tlicm from 
on high by Ihe besieged, that Ihcy were obliged to retire. 
Mvthology and history are so blended in tbe writings of 



the ancients, that we know not where to ilistiH«i:uish tlic 
poeticftl from the true. Thus a similar (Ufeat to that which 
has just been mentioned as havin<r beiallen Bacchus and 
Hercules, was said by the same writer, Philostratus, to 
have occurred, or was likely to occur, to Alexander, who 
was unwilling to attack the OxydracsB, (a people inhabiting 
the country between the Hyphasis and the Ganges) because 
they were under the protection of the Gods, and hurled 
thunder and Hghtning at their enemies. In Julius Africa- 
nus there is a receipt for a composition (very much re- 
sembhng gunpowder) to be thrown upon an enemy. 

There are many similar allusions to thunder and light- 
ning scattered throughout the early writers, and there can 
scarcely be a doubt that some composition, more or less re- 
sembling gunpowder, was known in the early ages. That 
the ancients were really acquainted with some such compo- 
sition is said to be proved by a clear and positive passage 
in an author named Marcus Grsecus, whose work, in manu- 
script, is in the royal library of Paris, entitled Liber Ignium^ 
(the Book of Fires). The author, describing several ways of 
encountering an enemy by launching fire upon him, among 
others gives the following receipt: — "Mix together one 
pound of live sulphur, two pounds of charcoal of willow, and 
six of saltpetre ; and reduce them to a very fine powder in 
a marble mortar." He directs a certain quantity of this 
mixture to be put into a long, narrow, and v. ell-compacted 
tube or cover, and sa discharged into the air. Here we 
have the description of a rocket. The case or envelope of 
the instrument with which thunder is imitated he repre- 
sents as being short and thick, and but half filled with the 
composition, which is then secured by binding the whole 
tightly round with packthread : this is exactly the form of 
the modern cracker. He then treats of different ways of 
preparing the match, and how one squib may set fire to 
another in the air, by having the second enclosed within 
the first In short, he speaks clearly of the composition and 
effects of a powder verymuch resembling the gunpowder of 
modern times. This author is also spoken of by Mesue, an 
Arabian physician, who flourished in the beginning of the 
ninth century. 

Nitre, one of the ingredients of gunpowder, was certainly 
known in remote antiquity. It was discovered in the east, 
and was known in China and India long before the com- 
mencement of the Christian era. Its property as a sup- 
porter of combustion must have been noticed by anyone 
who threw a piece of it upon an ignited coal. " Accord- 
ingly,** as Dr. Thomson remarks, ** we find that its use in 
lire-works was known very early in China and India; 
though its prodigious expansive power, by which it propels 
bullets with so great and destructive velocity, is a European 
invention, posterior to the time of Roger Bacon." 

It certainly appears that, whatever knowledge of gun- 
powder watt possessed by the ancients, it was not in general 
Use, and that the introduction of fire-arms is modern. 
Friar Bacon, who died in 1278, (about three centuries after 
the time of Marcus Grs&cus) was in possession of the receipt 
for making gunpowder ; and in his treatise " De Secretis 
Opetibits Artiset Natures, «!ic.*' be conceals one ingredient 
of its composition under the veil of an anagram. He writes, 
•*Sed tamen sails petrce, luru mone cap ubre, et sul- 
phuris: et sic facies tonitrum et coruscationem, si scias 
artificium." (But nevertheless take of saltpetre, with pow- 
dered charcoal, vmd sulphur; and thus you will make thun- 
der and lightning, if you know the mode of preparing it). 
"Luru mone cap ubre" is altogether unmeaning in that 
form ; but it is the anagram for carbonum pulvere, or pow- 
dered charcoaL This plan of concealing the ingredients of 
a new composition, or the details of a new process, by the 
device of an anagram, was very common until about the 
age of Newton. It appears as if Roger Bacon had been 
more solicitous to conceal the use of charcoal, than that of 
the other two ingredients. 

Bacon also says, ** From saltpetre and other ingredients 
we are able to form a fire which will burn to any distance ;" 
and again, alluding to its eflfects, ** A small portion of mat- 
ter, about the size of the thumb, properly disposed, will make 
a tremendous sound and coruscation, by which cities and 
armies might be destroyed." Such arc the claims of Roger 
Bacon to this important discovery, which has changed the 
whole art of war. 

Bacon, in another part of his observations, expresses an 
opinion that it was by the use of something hke gunpowder 
that Gideon defeated the Midianites with only 300 men, 
VJudges, chap, vii.) Another account states that the Ara- 
bians obtained their knowledge of gunpowder from India ; 

and that they employed it in ^ battle fought near Mecea» 
so long ago as -the yew: 690* But this is net prebable ; for 
the zeal w hich prompted the followers of Mohammed to pro- 
pagate his creed by means of the sword, would certainly, 
had they known the use of gunpowder, have urged them to 
the employment of a missile so much more powerful than 
anything previously used. When we consider that the 
Chinese have been constantly in the habit of constructing 
rockets, for a period of time beyond all existing records, it 
seems to imply that whatever might be the case in Europe^ 
the knowledge of some detonating compound has existed fat 
a long series of ages in China. Rockets have likewise been 
employed as a military weapon by the native Indian armies 
from a very remote period. 

The first mention of the use of gunpowder in Europe, 
was in a sea-fight between the king of Tunis and (he 
Moorish king of Seville, in the ninth century ; when the 
vessels of the former are said to have had ** certain tubes or 
barrels, with which they threw thunder-bolts of fire." The 
Venetians made use of gunpowder on the 2Sth of March, 
1380, during a war with the Genoese ; and it h recorded 
that all Italy complained of it, as a manifest contravention 
of fair warfare. Our Edward the Third employed it at the 
Battle of Cressy, or Creci, in the year 1346, when^he had 
four pieces of cannon, which contributed not a little'to help 
him to gain the victory. The knowledge of its uses he pro- 
bably gained from the earls of Salisbury and Derlj}', who 
were present at an engagement between the Moors and the 
Spaniards, at Algesiras, three years before the battle of 

The Germans claim the honour of the invention of gun- 
powder for their countryman Berthold Schwartx, a Fran- 
ciscan friar, who lived at Mayence between 1290 and 1320. 
He, in some alchemical experiments, had put a mixture 
of nitre, charcoal, and sulphur, into a mortar, and having 
accidentally dropped a spark into it, he was astonished to 
see the pestle tly off into the air. Supposing gunpowder to 
have been previously known in some parts of the world, it 
does not follow that Schwartz should have been acquainted 
with it ; it might therefore be perfectly true that» in some 
of his alchemical researches, he used the ingredients above 
mentioned, without knowing the value of them as the com- 
ponent parts of an explosive mixture. The instances are 
by no means few in number in which alchemy— a fallacious 
and empirical study, considered with regard to its real 
object — became accidentally the means of eliciting facts and 
properties, which have since become of immense value to 
the world. 

Our frontispiece represents the gunpowder mills at Wal- 
tham Abbey, as they appeared more than a century ago. 
V/e have taken tHe view from a work entitled, "The His- 
tory of the ancient Town and once famous Abbey of Wal- 
tham, in the county of Essex, from the foundation to the 
present time. London: printed for the author, 1736." 
The author of this work we find to be *' John Farmer, of 
Waltham Abbey, Gent.," and at page 3 of his work, the 
following curious observations are made respecting gun* 

*' Near the town, on one of these riven, are curious gun- 
powder mills, which supply the nation with great quantities 
of gunpowder, being esteemed the largest and compleatest 
works in Great Britain and are now the property of Mr. 
John Walton, a gentleman of known honoar and integrity. 

** Some suppose this gun powder to be as ancient as ^rcAt- 
medes in Europe, (and ancienter in India) ; yet generally 
men hold the hriar of Mentz, the first founder thereof, about 
three hundred and fifty-six years since: in the making of 
which there requires three essential ingredients. 

" 1 . Brimstone, whose office is to catch fire and flame of 
a sudden, and convey it to the other two. 

"2. Charcoal pulverized, which continueth the fire and 
quencheth the flame, which otherwise would consume the 
strength thereof. 

** 3. Saltpetre, which causeth a windy exhalation, and 
driveth furth the bullet. This gunpowder is the emblem of 
pohtick revenge, for it bitdth first and barketh afterwards, 
the bullet being always at the mark before the report is 
heard ; so that it mako'th a noise not by way of warning 
but of triumph." 

We will not enter into the warm discussions which have 
been carried on — chiefly from a foolish national vanity — 
respecting the inventor of gunpowder. Students in science 
have observed, and observing must deplore, the bitter feel- 
ings engendered by disputed claims to priority of invention, 
in the cases of the Differential Calculus, Logarithms^ and 



many other soientifio proeesseg, both in mathematics, and 
in the sciences more nearly connected with the arts. Such 
discussions seldom have the desired effect, viz., to convince 
an opponent. We will therefore pass on to consider the 
manufacture and general properties of gunpowder. 

Gunpowder is a mixture, in various proportions, of nitre, 
sulphur, and charcoal. Numerous experiments have been 
made from time to time by scientific men, in order to deter- 
mine the exact proportion in which these ingredients may 
be roost advantageously mixed; and it is singular that, 
after many variations, experience has pointed out the pro- 
portions adopted several centuries ago, as being the most 
suitable. So that in this respect, at least, modern science 
has not assisted in improving the ratio of the ingredients, 
however much the purity and excellence of the ingredients 
may have been ensured : it also shows that much care and 
attention was bestowed upon this important manufacture at 
an early period. 

It is well known that the force of gunpowder is exerted 
at the very moment only when it is ignited ; hence it is 
clear that this force is due to a sudden expansion produced 
by the sudden conversion of the solid gunpowder into its 
constituent gaseous parts, which eonsist of carbonic acid, 
carbonic oxide, nitrogen, oxide of nitrogen, sulphuretted 
hydrogen, and probably aqueous vapour. 

As the value of gunpowder depends ver}* much upon the 
purity of the ingredients which compose it, great care is 
taken in the preparation of them ; and in order to give our 
readers an opportunity of better appreciating the offices 
which each one of the three ingredients performs in the 
eompound state of gunpowder, we will devote a short space to 
each, — nitre, sulphur, and charcoal. In doing this we shall 
necessarily allude only to those properties or processes, which 
are more or less connected with the ultimate employment 
of the ingredients in the manufacture of gunpowder. The 
\'aried forms in which they are employed m other manufac- 
tures, do not belong to the present subject, and will not 
therefore be treated of here. 

Nitre, or Saltpetre, is the common name applied to a 
compound of Nitric Acid and Potash, which in chemical 
language is called nitratt cf potash. Nitre is abundantly 
product in nature, chiefly in the East Indies, Spain, 
Eirypt, the kingdom of Naples, Hungary, and a few other 
places ; but our supply is flrom the East Indies. 

The form in which nitre presents itself, is either as a 
cr)-$talline product from a rooky formation, or as a vegeta- 
ble product. It is by reason of the former origin probably, 
that it has obtained the name of saltpetre — sa^^r^, (Latin 
for rock-salt). The most extraordinary source of mineral 
or rocky nitre is in the kingdom of Naples. There is a deep 
cavity, called the Pulo of Molfetta ; in shape something like 
an inverted cone : the walls of this cavity are of secondary 
limestone, and a granular crust of nitre or saltpetre lines 
the whole of the cavity to the thickness of about an inch. 
When this granular or crystalline crust is scraped off, it is 
renewed again in a short time by a chemical process going 
on within the limestone. A similar phenomenon is seen in 
other parts of die world, but to a much smaller extent : this 
source of nitre, however, is quite insufficient in a commer- 
etal point of view, and can only be regarded as a natural 

The grand and prolific source of nitre is the vegetable soil. 
Nearly all vegetable and animal matter contains a small 
portion of potash in some form or other ; and if nitric acid 
be present, saltpetre is the resulting compound. Now, if 
we consider that the constituents of nitric acid are the same 
as those of common atmospheric air, vis. oxygen and nitro- 
gen ; and that the wide difference between these two com- 
pounds, results from the different proportions in which the 
two elements are present, and the different energy with 
which they combine ; we shall not find it difficult to conceive 
that, if by any process the air become decomposed, and its 
elements made to reunite in another ratio, the acid base 
which converts potash into nitre may be derived from the 
atmosphere itself. But not only the atmosphere: many 
other substances, containing oxygen or nitrogen, or both, 
may, by decomposition, become the source of the acid base 
of nitre ; and the European mode of procuring nitre (to 
which we shall presently allude) shows that some such pro- 
cess is going on in the artificial nitre-beds. 

The natural nitre-beds of India are plots of ground in 
which a nitrous efflorescence forms, at certain seasons of the 
year. This produce is swept off two or three times a week, 
and again renews itself. The nitrous earth is thus collected 
and t&>WD into casks provided vith doubto bottoms, the 

I upper of which is perforated in a number of places. The 
I casks are then filled up with water, and let to remain for 
about two hours. Valves or cocks, placed in the lower part 
of the casks, are then opened, and the liquid collected be- 
tween the two bottoms is drawn off. This process is re- 
peated three or four times ; at the end of which the water 
is found to be saturated with various salts ; among which 
are nitrate of potash (nitre), muriate of potash, and muri- 
ate of soda. This liquid (chemically called lixivium ♦) is 
then heated, and bullocks* blood introduced, which tends to 
purify it by bringing up a portion of the extraneous matter 
to the surface. These impurities are then removed, and 
the blood made to coagulate, by the addition of a little 
lime-water, by which moans the blood itself can be removed, 
and the saline liquid is now tolerably free from dirt and 
other impurities. The blood may also be coagulated by 
heating the liquid to 150*. It is then boiled several hours, 
by which boiling the muriates are deposited at the bottom, 
and can be separated from the rest of the liquid. It is then 
ladled into a vat where the rest of the extraneous matter 
subsides ; after which it is kept in a close vessel for three 
or four days, screened from the air and undisturbed. The 
liquor is then poured away, and the nitre is seen lining the 
vessel in the form of crystals. It is then fused into cakes, 
which is the state in which it is sold as rough nitre ; and is 
brought from Bengal in bags, each containing 164 lbs. The 
highest price paid for this nitre was about 8/. .10^. per cwt., 
in 1795; in 1831 it was about 2/. per cwt The quantity 
imported in 1821, was 244,886 cwt., in 1826, 1.31.170 cwt., 
and in 1831, 175,838 cwt. It pays an import duty of 6^. 
per cwt. 

The nitre, in the form thus described, although fit for 
many manufacturing purposes, is not sufficiently pure for 
gunpowder. One mode of purification is as follows. The 
nitre is broken into smoll pieces, and put into a vessel with 
20 per cent, of its weight of cold water, where it remains 
several hours. The water is then let out ftt>m a hole in the 
bottom of the vessel, and carries off such deliquescent salts 
as may be dissolved in it. Then 10 per cent, more water 
is poured in, and allowed to stand some time. This is 
poured away likewise, and a third washing is performed 
with 5 per cent of water. After which the nitre is boiled 
with half its weight of water, and poured into a leaden 
cooler. As the cooling proceeds, pure crystals of nitre gra- 
dually form : these are washed, and again drained to dry- 
ness; which is further attained by spreading them out on 
a large table, and exposing them to a temperature of about 
120* : after which they are in a fit state to be placed in the 
hands of the gunpowder-manufacturer. The number of 
processes which the nitre is made to undergo, before it is in 
a fit state to be employed as an ingredient in gunpowder, 
is sufficiently indicative of the great care bestowed on the 
preparation of this important article. 

We have said that from the East Indies the greatest part 
of the nitre for British consumption is obtained; and so 
great is the produce there, that, although the quantity sent 
to England is so large, more than double that quantity is 
supposed to find its way to the Chinese market, to be used 
in the construction of fire-works, in which the C^hinese are 
acknowledged to excel every other nation. This nitrous 
soil, however, is not confined to the East Indies ; for Mr. 
Bowles has stated that in some of the uncultivated parts of 
Spain, nitre is so abundant in the soil that, if the land be 
ploughed to a depth of three or four inches twice or thrice 
m the spring, and be suffered to lie fallow during the 
summer, the soil will yield nitre abundantly in the au- 
tumn, which may be carted away, and lixiviated in a man- 
ner nearly similar to the nitrous earth of India, before 
described. A similar property, but to a smaller extent, is 
resident in the soil in some parts of Hungary. 

In France and Germany nitre is obtained from artificial 
nitre-beds, which consist of the refuse of animal and vege- 
table bodies undergoing putrefaction, mixed with calcareous 
and other earths. The nitrogen disengaged from the 
putrescent mass, uniting with the oxygen of the atmosphere, 
forms the nitric acid, and the potash is probably furnished 
by the vegetables and the soil. The principal agents neces- 
sary for the formation of nitre in this way have been con- 
jectured to be lime, animal and vegetable matter in a state 
of decomposition, heat, and dry atmospheric air. The mortar 
from old buildings is generally found to contain a portion 
either of nitre or of potash, which could be converted into 
nitre by the presence of nitric acid. Old mortar, therefore, 
together with decayed vegetables, animal soil, &c., are the 

* The Latin for ly or Uy, 

422— a 



principal materials of which the nitrc-hcds are formai. 
Nay, to such an extent was the use of such materials carried 
under the ancien riyime of France, that an arbitrary law 
was enacted, to the effect that all such materials might be 
claimed by the crown, which put the law in force thus : the 
materials of all old buildings were claimed on the spot ; 
and the soil or earthen floor of every out-house, shed, stable, 
&c., was dug up once a-year by order of government, that 
it might be used in the formation of nitre-beds. In some 
instances the Hoors of the poorer sort of cottages were dug 
up for the same purpose. This iroppst» like many of the 
French taxes at that time, was farmed out — a sure way to 
make an oppressive law more oppressive to the subjects of 
its operation. The annoyance and angry feelings enn^en- 
dered by this practice raised so much discontent that, when 
Turgot assumed the direction of the finance, he abohshed 
the practice altogether; and the formation of nitre-beds 
was afterwards conducted without tampering with the pro- 
perty and homes of individuals. Chalk and decayed vege- 
table and animal matter were mixed together, and saturated 
with an animal liquid containing a portion of potash, and at 
the end of two years crude nitre was extracted from the 
mass, which afterwards underwent many processes, to purify 
and separate it from the extraneous bodies. But, at the com- 
mencement of the revolutionary war, lierthollet, and other 
eminent chemists, devised modes of preparing it much more 
expeditiously and perfectly than had been previously 
known. We shall allude to this in a subsequent part of 
our subject. 

Nitre is rapidly decomposed when mixed with charcoal 
and subjected to a red heat. Many of the explosions of the 
alchemists were, no doubt, due to the employment of these 
two substances, in their endeavours to obtain an acidulated 
water, called by them clystus of nitre^ (a kind of nitre- 
wash,) to which they attributed wonderful medical virtues. 
These substances they distilled from retorts, luted to capa- 
cious receivers, which were generally blown to pieces in 
the experiments. Mixtures of nitre and charcoal form 
the bases of a variety of compositions employed for fire- 
%vorks, the rapidity of the combustion being modified by the 
relative proportions of the charcoal. 

The second ingredient in gunpowder, of which we shall 
shortly treat, is Sulphur. This is what is called in chemis- 
try an elementary body ; that is, no process has ever yet 
reduced it to a simpler form or state than that which it 
exhibits as pure sulphur. It is inflammable, and fusible 
at about 220^; brittle, without taste and smell. Its 
yellow colour is of course known to every one. The pun- 
gent stifling smell from ignited bulphur is due to sulphu- 
rous acid gas, a compound of sulphur and oxygen. 

The native sulphur employed in this country is obtained 
chiefly from Sicily, where it occurs in beds of clay 
formation, occupying the central half of the southern coast of 
Sicily, and extending inwards as far as the district of Etna. 

It is also an abundant product in metallic ores, the most 
available of which is i)erhaps the copper ore. Large quan- 
tities of sulphur are procured from tne Paris copper-mine, 
in the Isle of Anglesea, in North Wales. The copper-ore 
containing sulphur in a crude state, is placed in a furnace 
formed of solid masonry, and exposed to an intense heat, 
which melts the metallic portions of the ore, and drives off 
the sulphurous portion in the form of vapour, which, pass- 
ins through a chimney or tube into a brick chamber, 
subsides, and l*nes the wall, ceiling, and floor, with an 
efflorescence, which is removed at intenals of about six 
weeks. This rough sulphur is of a spongy texture and of 
a grayish yellow colour, and too impure to be available for 
the manufacture of gunpowder. To purify this sulphur it 
is melted in boilers, and aU the impurities, which rise to the 
surface, are skimmed off, after which the sulphur is poured 
into moulds of a convenient form. The sulphur procured 
from the copper-ore, however, always contains a small por- 
tion of arsenic, which is not the case with the volcanic sul- 
phur, obtained from Sicily, which causes the latter to be 
preferred in the making of gunpowder. 

The quantity imported in 1821 was 113.844 cwt; in 
1826. 251,981 cwt; in 1831, 289,444 cwt. It varies from 
about 6f. to 10>f. per cwt., and pays a duty of 6</. per cwt. 
in the rough state, 6*. per cwt.'in a refined state, and 9s. 
^d, per cwt. in the state of flour. 

Sulphur is commonly met with in three forms;— 1st. 
massive or crude sulphur; 2nd. roll sulphur ; 3rd. sublimed 
or powdered sulphur, commonly called flowers of sulphur, 
lliis latter form is attained by heating solid sulphur suffi- 
ciently to raise it to vapour. The vapour, which leaves 

behind it all the (mpurlties, ii collected in large teceivers. 
In this state it is usually contaminated by the presence of 
sulphurous acid, which, however, may be removed by 
washing the sulphur in warm water, whereby the resulting 
sulphur is rendered very pure ; since, if a portion of it be 
gradually heated upon platinum-foil, it will be totally evapa» 
rated : — this is a good test of its purity. It is also in its 
pure state entirely solublo in boiling oil of turpentine. 
During the wars of Napoleon, when the quantity of gun- 
powder consumed was immense* great attention was paid 
to the purifying of the sulphur empbyed in its manufac- 
ture. It was put, in quantities of from ten to twelve cwt. 
at a lime, into iron pots, about three feet in diameter, and 
two feet deep. The pots were so strongly made, that 1000 
tons of sulphur could be melted in each pot, before the 
united effects of the sulphur and the intense heat rendered 
them useless. The pots were covered with a sloping roof 
of masonry, and all the apparatus was calculated to resist 
the explosive force of heated bodies. The sulphur was 
boiled in these pots, and all impurities driven off through 
a tube or chimney communicating with the external air, 
while onlv four parts in every hundred of the sulphur were 
consumed in the process. 

The various employments of sulphur in other manufac 
tures — such as sulphuric acid works* Sec., do not fall with- 
in the scope of our present subject; we will therefore pass 
on to the last ingreuient in the composition of gunpowder. 

Charcoal or carbon is, like sulphur, a simple substance. 
Its purest form is that of the diamond : this is crystallized 
carbon ; and, like ordinary charcoal, is resolvable into car- 
bonic acid, by being burnt in oxygen gas. It also converts 
iron into steel. 

Charcoal is abundantly obtained by the destructive distil- 
lation of various animal and vegetable products. A common 
mode of preparing it in a small way, is to bury pieces of wood 
in sand, contained within a crucible ; to bring the whole to 
a red or even white heat, which u maintained for an hour 
or two. Charcoal, thus prepared, is a black, porous, brittle 
substance. When, however, it is prepared for fuel, billets 
of young wood are prepared, and formed into a conical pile, 
which, being covered with earth or clay, is suffered to burn 
with a limited access of atmospheric air ; whereby its re- 
duction to ashes is prevented. The quantity of air admitted 
is regulated bv the management of two holes, one at the 
top and the other at the bottom of the conical heap. The 
billets of wood, in pieces of about three feet in length, are ar- 
ranged in the charring pit, and the heap formed; but, in so 
doing, two holes are left, one at the bottom, to act as a Are- 
place, and the other to furnish a draught to kindle the fire. 
When this is done the upper hole or chimney is closed; 
and when the wood is thoroughly ignited, the fire-place is 
stopped up likewise ; and so it remains until the wood is 
completely charred, or converted into charcoal. 

Charcoal, thus prepared, is fitted for use in many manu- 
facturing processes ; but the purpose which it ser\'es as an 
ingredient in gunpowder, renders it necessary that it should 
be purified from many extraneous bodies which unavoidably 
form part of its substance in the common mode of preparing 
it. To obviate these objections, and to obtain the charcoal 
in as pure a state as possible, the wood undergoes a process 
of distillation ; that is, it is subjected to a heat which either 
liquefies .or vaporizes all the foreign matters resident in it, 
and thus leaves the charcoal or carbon, which no process, 
either mechanical or chemical, has ever been able to liquefy. 
The mode of distillation thus employed, is carried on in a 
large cast-iron cylinder ; and to assist the reader a compre- 
hension of the details we will illustrate them by two figures ; 
one of which, (fig. 1), is a section passing along the axis 
of the cylinder, and the other (fig. 2), a section at right 
angles to this axis, a is the cast-iron cvlinder, about three 
or three and a half feet in diameter, and five or six feet in 
length ; under which is the fire b, the smoke and heated 
air from which, c, ascend and surround the cylinder in 
nearly every part, (as is better seen in fig 2,) and ultimately 
escape through the chimney d. It will be seen that the 
cylinder has as few points of support as possible ; in order 
that the flame and heated air mav have extensive contact 
with the cylinder, b is the ash-pit beneath the fire-place ; 
and F and o two pipes or tubes passing through the walls 
of the building into casks or other vessels placed outside. 
The whole of these arrangements are set in firm brick-work ; 
and an iron door is fitted to the opening of the cylinder ▲. 
Such an arrangement is well calculated for the production 
of a great heat, and we will now show how that heat is 
made available for tibe production of charcoal* The specie^ 


otfMiiig voch] selected for the purposo is cut into pieces 
tbontnine inches in lenetlv carefully strippvil of the baik. 
uJ plired ill the cylinder, the dour of whicli is then per- 
bclly closed. The neat it then made so intense ns to 
&Butj or else to vaporiie all the substances combined 
•itb the carbon in the wood ; the liquid prudunts escaping 
Ibimgh the lower orillcc g, anil tho vaporized suUstiiiccs 
through the upper orilice r. 

Two idv ant ages result from this mode of nianufucturc. 
ItL ihe churcMil itiielf is much more pure and valuable, 
uicampoucnt part of gunpowder; and 2nd. the liquid 
ud gueoua products may be preserved in the exterior ves- 
Ht^ and applied to other manufacturing processes. The 
liquid is pt/roligneous (i. e, fire-mood) acid ; which, ahcr 
hug puriDed from portions of oil and tat, which alirays 
diilil over with it, becomes acetic acid, the luniu ingredient 
ilciMiimon vinegar ; the others being water and colouring 
nuiar. Were not the wood in the cylinder carefully ex- 
doiled from the atmoaphere, it would be consumed to ashes 
I7 Lha presence of oxygen ; but deprived, as it is, of 
u; coostant supply of a supporter of combustion, only a 
■mill part of the carbon is lost ; tho process being realty 
aa ol dlatillatioa, rather than ot comiuslioa. 

la toaxa instances the cylinder is double, one slidin;; 
viihin the other; lO that when the charcoal in the inner 
ijWaiti is completed, the cylinder itself is drawn out, in- 
■M of the charcoal only being removed, and another 
lliulcr, supplied with its proper cargo of new wood, U in- 
uned inlo the alreadv heated external cylinder ; by which 
iHiiii much time and fuel are saved. 

Hie selection of the kind of wood, best calculated for the 
Fnduction of charcoal for the gunpowder manufacturer, is 
■ wlyect which has received much atlentian. Some woods, 
■Driiu oak, elm, fir, &c , contain much deliquescent car- 
Wta of potash, which interferes with the purity of the 
(Wmal produced from those woods. Kxperinients have 
hnn naile to determine the proportions in which charcoal, 
Poduced from various woods, is available as an ingredient 
It gunpowder; and the following numbers express the 
MniMntlve ineriti of Qve or six s[Kcies: — Rhamnus fran- 

EU,arBlackDDgwDDd-BO; Willow = 76; Alder - 74 ; Fil- 
n-72; Chestnutand Hazel— 66. All other woods have 
tinn results inferior to these. So important is tho good- 
Ku of the charcoal to the ultimate strength of the gun- 
^•ler, that with dogwood charcoal, made in a cylinder, 
'Iw charge for a gun may be one-third smaller than if Ihe 
lunpivder be made with charcoal obtained by (he old 
udiiud. During the present century plantations of dog- 
■nd and alder have been kept up in Kent, Surrey, and 
Swiex, Tor the take of ensuring a good supply of the mate- 
'iili fur charcoal for the government powder- manufacture. 

Hk desirable qualiliei of charcoal, which this manufac- 
'■"• toquircs, are dryness, lightness, easy pulverization, 
wHi as will leave no sensible residue on faurmng. 

Hiving thus shortly detailed so much of the properties 
'^ Ditrc, sulphur ana charcoal, as are concerned in fitting 
''mi for being employed in the manufacture of gunpowder, 
■> till proceed to detuil the processes of manufacture; pre- 
itlidy to whioli, however, we wilt treat of the proportions, 
^idi baiB baeii reeommeDded by different persons, and in 
wtQt cmutria*, Ibi the eompotilion of the ingredients. 

Section II. 
There are few coinpounil substances in which the propor- 
tion of Ihe component ingredients has varied so oiucu as in 
gunpowder. The dilTerence of the modes in wliioh the ex- 
periments made lo determine the moat advantageous pro- 
portion, have been mode— ttle dilfarent qualities of the 
iugredients employed — and (he diffeient purposes to which 
tho gunpowder is to be applied — have probably all contti- 
buted lo create this diversity. The following shows tha 
proportion in which the ingredients have been chosen in 
soTeral places. 

BUn. narital. MfAu-, 
England, Jlaiat Alilla, >t \Valtbaui 

Abbey 75 .... IS .... 10 

France, oroposed by Chdptil 77 It .... 9 

.. " .. Beaume .... BO .... IS .... 5 

,. used at present Tor Urdnince 75 .... 13-6.... 13-5 

Sporting 78 .... 12 .... 10 

Mining. . 65 .... lb .... 90 

EipoiUtionS'^ .... IS .... aO 

Ptuuia 75 .... laS.... li-S 

AuHlna 76 .... 1|-5.... 19-5 

thiaa ?S .... H-4.... 9-9 

It will be observed that the French employ four different 
proportions of ingredients for their powder, according as it 
IB required for war, for sporting, for mining, or fur exporla- 
tion. These proportions have boon dictated by experience, 
as the best for those several purposes. It is remarkable 
that the ordnance proportion is the same as that recom- 
mended by Baptista Porta 320 years ago. One of the re- 
sults of the combustion of gunpowder is sulphurous acid, 
which has a corrosive action upon the guulocks ; and where 
it is required to employ guns in long and active service, 
where few opporl unities, probably-, occur for dismounting 
and cleaning, and otherwise repairing ihese missile engines, 
and where their perfect action depends upon tlie clean 
stale of the metal, the source of ihe corrosive acid, i. e. the 
sulphur, is diministicd to a degree not inconsistent with the 
expansive force of the powder. The increased energy of 
Ihe explosive force, which depends greatly on the deeom* 
position of the nilrc, may be another reason why the pro- 
portion of that ingredient is larger in the gunpowder used 
for artillery, than for the purpoEes uf mining acid exporla- 

In the second case, as sportsmen generally pride them- 
selves upon the excellence of llieir arms, and where a cer 
tain diminution of the effect due to tiie sulpliur does not 
mililale against the success of the sportsman, a still less 

SortioD of sulphur is adopted. In the cose of mining pow- 
er, where the whole clficacy depends upon the expansive 
tendency, i. e. upon the quantity of gaseous )>ruducls sud- 
denly lilieraled, the ingredients tre chosen, BO OS not greatly 
to interfere willi this expansive force ; but ns immense 
quantities are employed in mining, altenlion it^ paid lo the 
economising of the ingredients ; those for mining-powder 
being the cheapest proportions of any. There is, beside*, 
another reason for (lie diminution in the proporliun of nitre. 
It is a well-known law in mechanics, ihat time is an element 
in all mechanical effects : — that a small force, by acting fur a 
longer time, may produce effects equal to those of a mora 
energetic agent, acting for a shorter space of time. Thia 
it shown in the blasting of rocks, where, i.^ iii« ^^M^^fwiwi 



contain a Inrpe proportion of nitre, the explosion is very 
intense, but so instantaneous that the neighbouring por- 
tions of rock are shattered before the impulse has had time 
to comniunicaie itself to the remoter parts : just on the 
same principle as breaking a window by the blow of a stone 
jr by a pistol bullet : in the former case the glass will be 
cracked in every direction, but in the latter the bullet will fre- 
quently pass through, making a round hole in its passage, 
but without cracking or shattering the surrounding portions 
of glass : the bullet has not time to produce the same sort 
of mischief, which the more slowly moving stone would 
occasion. But (to return to the case of the rock) when the 
quantity of nitre is diminished, and that of the charcoal 
increased, the quantity of gaseous matter is greater, but 
not so intense in the energy of its production. In conse- 
quence of this difference of property, a larger portion of 
rock is shaken and loosened from its hold, without separating 
or affecting the neighbouring portions so much — which is 
just the object desired by the miner. Quick-lime or saw-dust 
maybe incorporated with mining powder without much dimi- 
nishing its effect. The English mining powder frequently 
contains not more than 60 per cent, of nitre. It has been 
estimated that the value of S00,000/. is expended annually 
in gunpowder in the mines of Cornwall, — so extensive are 
the subterranean operations going on in that remarkable 
and valuable district* 

'With respect to the fourth kind of powder, that for naval 
and export purposes, the proportions are further different 
from another cause, which is probably this. Powder, em- 
ployed for the navy and for exportation, is necessarily kept 
for a long time and exposed to much variation of tempera- 
ture, and to atmospheric moisture. Now gunpowder is 
never so efficacious as when newly made ; and unless kept 
with much care it absorbs moisture, and the more so in 
proportion to the Quantity of alkali employed '• (the alkali 
is the potash of the nitre,) hence its qualities become 
greatly deteriorated. For this kind of powder the pit>por- 
tion of alkali is abridged — ^tbat being the active agent in 
promoting deterioration from age, moisture, &c. So far as 
eommercial gunpowder is concerned, there is another and 
a cogent reason why the proportion of nitre is frequently 
smaller than in ordnanee-powder. Nitre is by far the most 
expensive ingredient of the three ; and is, therefore, the one 
most hable to adulteration : its place has been in part sup- 

filied by other salts ; and powder has been sold with so 
ittle as 50 per cieiit. of nitre in it. 

In estimating the different purposes to which gunpowder 
is to bd applied, it may be useful to remark that gunpowder 
containing 1 9 per cent, of charcoal and 9 per cent, of sul- 
phur has been found to throw a proof-shell to a greater dis- 
tance than another portion of powder, in which the charcoal 
was 12. and the sulphur was 12 also. 

The French, engaged as they have been in long and 
active warfare, have Arom time to time called in the aid of 
their scientific men, to assist in the preparation of gunpow- 
der. At a time when France was encompassed by foreign 
armies, which the united powers of Europe had assembled 
against her, — when a formidable armv of French emigrants 
was assembled at Coblents, on the Rhiner— when the Aus- 
trian and Prussian armies hemmed her in by land, — and 
the British fleet surrounded her by sea, thus preventing her 
communication with other nations,— at this time it was 
suddenly reported to the executive Directory that no more 
gunpowder was to be had, and that France did not produce 
the materials for its manufacture ! France had for ages 
been in the habit of importing a large portion of her nitre, 
her iron, and many other of the implements of war. These 
supplies being now withheld, it was expected that, thus 
deprived of all her resources, she would be compelled to 
submit to any terms imposed upon her by her antagonists. 
But this was an extraordinary epoch, whether considered 
with reference to good or evil ; and many bursts of mental 
exertion sprang forth, both in military and scientific pro- 
ceedings. The Frenoh, impatient of foreign aggression, 
roused to fresh exertion by the imminence of the impend- 
ing danger, overcame all these obstacles. It was a proud 
time for French science, which, invoked bv its country, 
fully responded to the call. The names of Berthollet and 
Monge will be consecrated in the annals of French history, 
as well as of French science ; for it was chiefly due to the 
zeal, the activity, and the science of those two men that 
France was not overrun by forei|^n armies. Berthollet tra- 
versed France from one extremity to the other, improved 
the method of extracting nitre from the soil, (to which we 
htve already alluded), and taught how it was to be prac- 

tised, and how the nitre could be most expeditiously ex- 
tracted from the soil and purified. Works were established 
in every part of France ; and gunpowder made in prodif^iou? 
quantities and in an almost incredibly short space of time. 
During the second and third years of the republic, cvery 
district in France sent two intelligent young men to Pari.s 
making in the whole about 1100, who were instructed by 
the chemists and scientific men of Pans in the who)^ pro- 
cess of forming nitre-beds, extracting the nitre, making 
gunpowder, and founding cannon. These persons were 
afterwards sent to every part of France, to superintend the 
establishments set on foot for the n^inagement of all these 

There was a mode of manufacture, called (from the circum- 
stances under which it originated) the " revolutions r)' mode;" 
by which any quantity of gunpowder could be manufactured 
in about a hundred hours ; whereas the time usually em- 
ploy^ is two or three weeks. Another plan was aUo 
adopted, by which 100 kilogrammes of the ** Swiss round 
powder" could be manufactured in seventeen hours. Ber* 
thoUet even attempted to form a new species of gunpowder, 
more powerful than the old, by employing chlorate of pot- 
ash (a salt which detonates powerfully when mixed with 
sulphur and rubbed or struck) instead of the nitre. The 
proportion in which he used it was 80 parts of chlorate of 
potash, 15 of charcoal, and 5 of sulphur; but after many 
accidents it was abandoned as dangerous, and too formid- 
able to the friends instead of the enemies of France ; for 
many lives were lost in the experiments performed in 
using it. It is, however, made at the present day in small 
quantities, to be used as priming for fowling pieces. 

We have given these details to the reader from a convic- 
tion that twenty-two years of peace, which have been 
marked by a cheering advance in intellect and intelligence 
among neariy all classes of society, have contributed to re- 
move those feelings of envy and bitter hatred reciprocally 
indulged in by two great nations towards each other The 
popular prejudice — at one time as firmly entertained as if 
rrancis Moore, Physician, had mode a prediction of it — that 
" an Englishman can beat three Frenchmen," has long died 
away ; and the time we hope is come, or is rapidly ad- 
vancing, when exalted actions, high mental results, and 
exeellence of every kind, will be sufficiently appreciated and 
admired in our contemporaries, without reference to which 
shore of the British channel be the land of their birth. 

We pass on now to consider the details of the manufac- 
ture of gunpowder. 

The three ingredients being separately prepared, as* be- 
fore detailed, are separately ground to a fine powder, either 
by a mill, or by means of a pestle and mortar ; and are 
then mixed intimately together, in one or other of the pro- 
portions before described. The mixture is then ground. 
This operation used to be in England (as it is at the present 
time in France) performed by means of a pestle and mor- 
tar ; but less hazard of an explosion is experienced by the 
employment of a powder-mill ; which consists of two circu- 
lar stones of a calcareous or limestone nature ; set up edge- 
ways, and roUing, by means of a shaft, on a bed-stone of 
the same material, which gives no sparks, as sandstone 
would be apt to do. The formation of this mill is some- 
what similar to that of a Bark-mill, or of an Oil-pressing-niill. 
Each of the stone rollers weighs about three tons, and they 
have a double motion, similar to that of a wheel moving 
round a horizontal circle ; that is, the rollers move on their 
own axes, which are horizontal ; and at the same time, but 
more slowly, move round a circle, which circle is the bed- 
stone. The two rollers do not follow each other in exactly 
the same track ; but one is nearer to the vertical shaft than 
the other, and therefore passes over a portion of the bed 
which was left untouched by the other roller. In some in- 
stances metallic rollers have been employed ; and would 
perhaps be the best if care were taken in removing the 
ground paste from them. 

The composition, previously mixed, is spread upon the 
bed-stone, and moistened with as small a Quantity of water 
as will, in conjunction witli the weight of tne revolving roll- 
ers, bring it into the form of cake but not of paste. The 
line of contact between the rollers and the bed-stone is con- 
stantly preceded by a scraper, which goes round with the 
roller, continuously scraping upon the t>ed-stone, and turn- 
ing the cake into the track of the rollers. From fifty to sixty 
pounds of the mixture are usually worked at one time on 
each mill-stone. The time required to get the ingredients 
thoroughly incorporated varies with the velocity of the 
rollers from three to seven hours. The miU is worked 



either by wind or water, and therefore varies in its velocity 
according to the moving power. 

The mill-cake (as it is now termed) is then scraped off 
tlie bed-stone, which is an operation attended with much 
danger unless carefully performed. The cake is then sent 
to the corning house^ to be converted into corns or grains ; 
previously to which, however, it undergoes a heavy pressure 
by means of Bramah's hydraulic press, or by a screw press, 
by uhicli process it is formed into a compact body, nearly 
as hard as a stone. It is then broken into small lumps, from 
one to two cubic inches each ; after which the (/raining or 
corning is executed by placing these lumps on sieves, on 
each of which is placed a block of lignum vitce, (a hard spe- 
cies of wood.) shaped something like an orange, that is, in 
the form of an oblate spheroid. The sieves are made of 
vellum or of parcliment-bkins, perforated with a multitude 
of small round holes. Several such sieves are fixed on a 
frame, which, by proper machinery, has a horizontal motion 
given to it, by which all the sieves have a rapid revolving 
motion ^iven to them at the same time. By this revolution 
tiic lignum vitjD block in each sieve moves round with con- 
iidcrable velocity, so as to break the lumps of the cake into 
very small pieces, and foire them through the sieves ; thus 
fpnnibjr ^rruins of different sizes. These granular particles 
are afterwards separated from the finer dust by projMjr 
&]uvci aud reels, frequently made of silk gauze, to prevent 
niylallic friction. 

The granulated powder is now hardened, and the rough 
e<lffe8 of the grains rounded off by placing the powder in a 
cvliuder or close cask, which is fumed rapidly on its axis. 
This vessel somewhat resembles a barrel-churn, and should 
be only half filled at each operation. It has frequ\*ntly 
square bars inside, parallel to its axis, to aid the ])olish by 
Attrition. The barrel or cylinder is so arranged that the 
povder-dust necessarily produced in this operation is shaken 
out, and leaves the grains in a smooth clean state, which is 
^ that is necessary for actual practice. But, in order to 
give the gunpowder used in sporting a degree of polish^ 
^hich is considered as imparting an additional beauty to it, 
thecyUnder is lined with woollen cloth, which, rubbing 
^Mfainst the grains as they revolve, gives them a gloss ; 
wiiich operation is called glazing. Sometimes a little black 
lead i« introduced into the cylinder to assist in this process. 
It has been before stated that in France the different objects 
to vhich gunpowder is to be applied, determine a slight 
change in the proportions of the ingredients ; but in Eng- 
land the same proportions are used for ordnance, muskets, 
l^hi, and sporting, the only difference being in the size 
^the grains, and in the fanciful polish given to the latter. 
The ratio of the sizes of the grains used for ordnance, 
i&uskets, and pistols is as 195, 180. and 172. The French 
*<)nietimes give the grains a spherical form by means of a 
KAlJDg machine; but the composition is not pressed so 
«rd and firm by that process. 

The powder, although it may now seem dry, contains a 
^ deal of moisture, which must be removed before the 
fwder is stored away. This process of drying is performed 
^ndifFerent ways. In France a body of hot and dry air is 
]<H into the drying room, where the damp powder is exposed 
*jpw shelves. The general mode in this country, until 
^thin a recent period, has been to kindle a large fire or 
farnace exterior to the drying room ; and by that means to 
««l a large cast iron vessel, called a gloom, which is pro- 
truded through the wall into the drying room. This gloom 
b brought to a bright red heat, and thus warms the whole 
a;>artnicnt. It has, however, been conjectured that some of 
*^a»ful explosions, which have taken place at powder- 
mill*, have been occasioned by the workmen accidentally 
fpiliinp a portion of powder near the intensely-heated gloom, 
or I) currents of air blowing some of the grains against 
Ihe red-hot surface, or by the same thing happening from 
the sudden closing of the door of the drying room, as was 
supposed to be the case at the Dartford mills some years 
ipk The plan now adopted is infinitely preferable, and 
'l^sts in passing steam-pipes through the drying room : 
thus effectually preventing any ill effects; for'gunpowder 
'^ires a temperature of at least C00° for its ignition. If 
Nvder be brought to a high temperature, but not within 
the sphere of ignition, the sulphur will graclually burn off, 
without explosion, leaving the nitre and charcoal un burnt. 

Tht stcring of gunpowder for exportation or for keeping 
^ like every other part of ita management, an operation 
reqniring nmch attentwn, in reference to the twofold object 
ol Avoiding friction and heat, and excluding the admission 
of noisturc It is kopt in barrels, each containing about | 

one cwt. The barrels are lined with copper, the blotter to 
exclude moisture ; and to show the extreme care I)cr.•t•^^u^y, 
it has been stated that, on one occaiiion, a barrel being 
closed up by cast-iron nails, the roughness of the surface 
admitted some little grains of powder with them, and the 
friction, in drawing out the nails, caused an explosion. 

The importance of keeping powder in a state of perfect 
dryness, may be illustrated by an occurrence which took 
place- in the last century. In July, 1779, a naval engajje- 
ment took place between the French and English, in which 
the French guns did great execution among the Englisih 
rigging, &c., while the English guns could not reach the 
French position at all. An inquiry into the causes of this 
circumstance was instituted by order of the House of Com- 
mon-: when it was found that the gunpowder employed 
had become damp by the moisture of the atmosphere : it had 
become clotted into lumps, in which the particles of nitre 
were visible to the naked eve. 

When powder has become damp by the atmosphere, it 
can be rendered fit. for use by rcgrinding, drying, &c. ; but 
when the moisture has loo far separated the ingredients from 
each other, it is of no further use as gun]>ovvder; but the 
nitre, the most valuable ingredient, may be extracted by 
soaking the powder in hot distilled water, by which the 
nitre is dissolved, and the sulphur and charcoal can be re- 
moved in the solid state. The li(piid being purified and 
crystallized, may be again employed as nitre for the same 

In the storing of gunpowder for keeping, a dry airy 
building should be chosen, removed at least a thousand 
paces from any habitation, provided with lightning-con- 
ductors, and surrounded with walls, ditches, and chevauxde 
frise. There should be a guard constantly sot to pre\ent 
the introduction of fire, and to hinder all persons from en- 
tering, who have articles about them likely to pro<luce 
sparks. These buildings should contain openings fur the 
free passage of air. The casks of i)owder should stand upon 
a platform of wood at a distance from the wall, and the 
powder itself should be sunned and dried every year or two. 
If the powder be kept in damp places, as for example in the 
casemates (arched under-ground pa>sageb) of fortresses, 
the internal walls should be covei-ed with lead, and a large 
vessel of unslaked lime be placed in the uii<ldle of the apart- 
ment, so that the moisture of the atmosphere may be ab- 
sorbed by the lime. In the transport of gunpowder the 
casks are often judiciously packed in sacking, and when so 
packed they are dipped into melted pitch. Barrels thus 
prepared have been under water for weeks without injury 
to their contents. 

The actual force with which gunpowder begins to en arge 
its bulk at the moment of explosion has been estimated 
with extraordinary discrepancy by different individuals, 
some of whom have derived their estimate from preconceived 
theories, and others from ill-conducted experiments. Tho 
two extreme estimates which we have met with are those of 
Vernon and of Bracehus ; the former of whom estimated 
the initial impulse ot 4r>U times, and the latter, at 80,0UU 
times, the pressure of the atmosphere. Into such conllict- 
ing statements, as to actual intensity of explosion, we will 
not enter further ; but proceed to speak of its real enlarge- 
ment of bulk, which has been computed to be considerably 
more than 2000 times its former bulk; that is, the gases 
into which the exphision reduces the powder, occupy 2000 
times the bulk which the solid powder itself occupied. 

As the projectile jwwer depends upon this sudden ex- 
pansion, the excellence of gunpowder is fairly tested by 
measuring its actual projectile force by means of tho 
iprouvettCy a French term for any instrument intended to 
measure or make trial of the strength of powder. Ono 
form of the ^pnmvette is a strong barrel, in which a given 
(piantity of powder is fired ; and the force of expansion is 
measured bj^ the action produced on a strong spring or a 
great weight. The 6prouvette now emplojed in France 
for testing sporting powder is represented in fig. 3. It is 
composed of two spring legs b and c : the leg c has at a a 
small reservoir for the powder, topelher with a pan for the 
priming. There is also a graduated arc,/, which slides in 
a groove cut in the leg b. It has also a metallic wire, y At, 
which moves through a hole made in the le^ 6 .* this wire 
is furnished with a cursor made of skin, which moves by 
friction. The leg b has also an arc c/, one end of which is 
bent into a heel e, which rests upon the charge of powder. 

In order to test the ])ovvder, the reserAoir, which will hold 
one gramme, (about 10^ troy prams,) is filled, and the touch 
pan primed. The sliding cursor v* XKiwc\ Vi \, "wci^ ^% 


powder 18 then flred. At the moment of detonsUon the 
Ktetinit a, and ibe heel «, an forcibly MMrated, each one 
di*KK'"S ""T l))^ ''K **> which it is sttaened, whereby lbs 
tiro leg», b Bi>d r, are brought n«*r«r tof^elher; but in- 
slKnUy recoil agmia hy virtue of their spring : the extent of 
llie displacement ii, however, indicated by the cursor, t, 
which ihaw* by its new poiition at i', for instance, that t 
and e had been forced into the poiition b' and e' : ihii dit- 
placement ia meosnred hy degrees engraved on the arc,/ 

Powder forsporting usually marka 12° on thit fprouvette, 
and superfine powder 14°. Each decree repretenta the 
effect of one kilogramme of powder, placed so as to bring 
the two legs nearer together. 

Hie Morlar'^prouvetle, or ordnance-mortar oF the French, 
it reserved for assajing the jiovders used in war. It ii 
composed of a mortar, a if, fig, 4, whose chaniber, d 4', is 

aisty-flvfl millimetrea deep, and fldy millimetres in dia- 
meter. The mouth, a X, of the mortar is 191 millimBtns 
in diameter, and the depth 239, from a x to d'. The bal- 
let, d, is 189) millimetres in diameter, thus leaving a nar- 
row space, called tiindage, between the mortar and the 
bullet or shell. The vent or touch-hole, J^ i* four mille- 
malrBt in diameter, and the weight of the copper shell i* 
293 hectogrammes. The mortar, being inclined at an 
angle of 45°, is then charged with ninety. two grammes of 
powder, and flred : when, if the shell be not propelled to a 
distance of 223 metres, the powder ia rejected : good pow- 
ders carry it at far as 2SD or 260 metre*. 

Another form of £prouvcIte was devised by the late Dr. 
Hutton, in which a small cannon was suspended at a pendu- 
lum. This cannon was about an inch in diameter at the 
Iwre, and wnt charged with two ounces of powder. The 
recoil of this little gun, when fired, was measured by a gra- 
duated arc attached to the apparatus. Many other forms, 
one of which is called the halittic pendulun^ have been 
devised for the sjrae purpose, with more or less success. 

The depth to which the hall penetrates is i 
goodness of the powder. 

The details now given will, we hope, furnish the reader 
with the means of judgioc of the modeof manufacture, and 
of the method of testing the purity of gunpowder: we will 
now say a few words on some of the pmperties of that 
lingular substance, as determined by experiment. 

The theury of the combustion of gunpowder hat been 
much disputed, but without entering into the different iheo- 
liea on tins head, vp may atate at the greatest tource of 

rwut matter, the deeompoiitun of tlie mtre, by w 
nitrogen is tet free in the gataoua ttate, and the OU 
being attracted by the charcoal converts it into cars 
acid. But this is by no means the only change of i 
which occurs by the explosion ; for a careful analysis ol 
products of the explosion of 100 grains of powder has I 
stated in the following form : — 

100 grains of powder produced five gates and . 

Kitroicn 13*11 rratnt, or 43 eulnc iaehei. 

Carbonic acid SS-77 . . 3U 

Cirlnirelted HydrQiea 3-70 .. 9 

KiltDus fM 3.U . . 6 

fiulpliB retted Hydrogen 3'03 .. 4 .. 

Subclrbonile of I'oluh 40 
Sulphate of Potash ..II 

CiTboTi 3 

SaJptiur Oi 

Gunpowder however, reduced to its simple elements w 
out explosion, has been stated to consist of Oxygen 31 
Hydrogen 0'3S, Carbon 1313, Sulphur 10, Nitrogen 
and Potash 367S. 

Powder may be inflamed by a nea^-y blow with a h- 
racT ; the sudden elevation of temperature csused by 
percussion is the probable cauie. Electricity also ign 
It ; hence the necessity of lightning-rods, attached to bu 
ings containing any considerable (luantity of it. Whei 
is exposed to the action of heat, the results vary with 
temperature. If the powder be submilled to the conitt 
a red-hot body, it suddenly explodes. This is what t« 
place with tbe gun-lock : the Hint, suddenly ttrik 
against the tteel of the lock, chips off several mitiute pii 
of the metal, and the heat generated hy the percut: 
fuses the particles, and these fall down red-hot into 
gunpowder in the pan. which, instantly communical 
with the powder in tlie barrel, causes the whole to cxpl 
When B gun "misses fire," as it ia called, none of tl 
red-hot partirlet fall into the pan, hut about and urouni 
Generally tpeaking, flame will not ignite gunpowder; 
re^'hot solid body, as a spark, is necessary. Most of 
readeri may havo noticed that, when a piece of ligl 
paper is presented to gunpowder, the explosion laket p 
tome little time after the flame is so held to ii ; «he^ 
the action of a ipark is instantaneous. Tlie reason 
which it that Ihe flame taket a certain time to nice 
grains of powder to a red heal, under which (as be 
rtated) they will not explode; and it is very dillicul 
bring a Hame into contact with a substance placed belo 
but powder dropped through a flame explodes the mon 
it comes in contact with it. 

Some of the effects of ignited gunpowder arc truly i 
derfnl : when gunpowder is heaped up in the open air 
inflamed, there is no report and but little effect produ 
A small quantity open and ignited in a room, forces tlu 
outwards, so as to Ww out the windows. But ihe s 
quantity confined in a bomb within the same room, 
ignited, tears in pieces, and sett on fire the whole hi: 
Count Rumford loaded a mortar with one-twentieth o 
ounce of powder, and placed upon it a twenty-four p( 
cannon, weighing 808 1 pounds; he then closed up e 
opening as eompletely at possible, and flred the che 
which bunt the mortar with a tremendous explosion. 
lifted up this enormous weight. In another experin 
Count Humford confined twenty-eight grains of powdi 
a cylindrical space, which it just filled; and upon b 
fired, it tore asunder a piece of iron, tthicb would I 
resisted a strain of 400,000 pounds. 

In concluding this paper we may remark that, altho 
it is too much to expect that all the members of tbe ^ 
human family will regard each otlier with fraternal feeli 
and as belonging to une great community, formed to a- 
and be assisted by each other, — yet we cannot but fi 
the hope that war (and, ill consequence, the destrw 
cmploymeHt of gunpowder,) will gradually diminish 
yield lo knowledge; or. to employ Ihe Ideaol'adistinguit 
modem writer — that Captain Sword will yield to ll^t; 
Pen. The printing-press has done much towards cotrec 
our ideas of true greatness and true power; and we 
forward to the same artillery, more than lo big brass | 
for maintaining the honour and dignity of a nation. 


■UdlS II WlliLT t>ui»l». M1CI 01.1 ei»I. AH in lloi(TBl.T 

egld by nit Hookisllcri foi ^rT•<TDll•n la tin Kli(dBM, 

Sa^tur^a^ll M^^^^int^ 




roHrET's TiLLAB. 

^ove tbe vonderful monaments Ivhich are so 
'^r duperaed over that wooderful land of mystery 
'■4 lablimity, Egypt, is a colossal piUar which has 
"nircd tbe name of Pompey, the great Roman gene- 
'■1, aad rival of Julius Caesar; and has ia our own 
Iuk excited tbe attention of tbe historian, the anti- 
fury, and tbe traveller, to sucb an extent that, 
>ftv several centuries of error and cnnfuaion, our 
■brmatioa respecting the real origin of this work of 
■'tis clear and decisive. 

In tbe fifteenth century, when learning was 
^aaing to revive, human knowledge was chiefly 
unfiaed to tbe architectural and literary remains of 
t^ Ucients : they were the guides which served to 
"coTtr mankind from that state of mental weakness 
sad dfgradatioa wfaich followed the overthrow of the 
iamia empire.; then it waa that the remains of the 

Vol. XIV. 

ancients became sacred, their buildings preserved, 
and their books sought for and perused with alacrity; 
the latter often serving as the interiirettrs of the for- 
mer, whereby the manners, customs, and intelligence 
of the ancients became known, and In a certam 
extent served as a model and a guide to a community 
whose intellectual strength was infantine. 

In this way it was ascertained that a monument 
had been erected to Pompey in or near Alexandria, 
the capital of Lower Epypt. It was therefore natu- 
rally supposed that the Pillar represented above was 
the monument in ([uestion. In the absence of all know- 
ledge derived from inspcetirm of the pillar itself, the 
name Poinpeys Pillar was attailied t<i it ; and thus 
almost undisputed was it handed down century alter 
century, until the occupation of Egypt by the armies 
of France and England, about forty ycacs us|p. 



(Tebruart 2, 

Before thia time one or two travellers had converted 
it into a trophy erected to the memory of Septimius 
Scverus. This pillar was said to be the remnant of 
an ancient city, which it once adorned: another 
account says that it was placed upon the ruins of the 
city of the Ptolemies ; but in the time of Septimius 
Severus this city was not in a ruined state. 

Before we proceed to notice the real object of the 
erection of the pillar, let us say a few words descrip- 
tive of the pillar itself, of which our engraving will 
convey a very accurate idea. It is situated about 
two miles from the sea- shore, upon a slight eminence, 
and its vast proportions strike the beholder with 
amazement. Its height is 88^ feet, and of the Corin- 
thian order of architecture. The shaft of the column 
consists of one solid block of red granite finely 
polished, 64 feet high, and 8 feet 4 inches in diameter. 
This shaft leans a little towards the south-west. The 
pedestal is 10 feet high, with a base of 5^ feet. The 
height of the capital is nine feet. The shaft is 
executed in a pure and masterly style, but the 
pedestal and capital are of very inferior workman- 
ship, and executed at a different time : they are not 
of the same granite as the shaft : they are clumsy in 
style, and in an unfinished state, so as to give an out- 
line only of the effect intended to be produced: the 
pedestal, too, is deficient in height. The shaft is in a 
good state of preservation, except on the north-west, 
which has suffered from the constant winds which 
blow from that point during the greater part of the 

This pillar has long been an object of interest to 
the rude Arabs, from the notion that no human 
beings could possibly have taken so much trouble to 
erect such a pile, except to conceal and preserve under 
it a large and costly treasure of some kind. Hence 
the pedestal has suffered from the violent attempts of 
the Arabs to penetrate below it: one Arab sought 
to blow it up with gunpowder, but did not succeed. 
When the forces of the then republic of France got 
possession of Alexandria, they repaired and supported 
the pedestal with masonry-work, and crowned the 
capital with a Cap of Liberty, which, however, was 
soon" afterwards pulled down by the English. 

When the celebrated English traveller, Clarke, 
visited Egypt, he made Pompey*s pillar an object of 
particular examination. He was surprised to observe 
that the pedestal did not rest upon the sand ; for on 
digging this away, so as to get beneath the pedestal, 
he found, to his surprise, that the whole of this im- 
mense pile, consisting of three parts, pedestal, shaft, 
and capital, was sustained upon a small prop of 
stone, about four feet square. Around this central 
base, but in very irregular positions, other masses had 
been placed, consisting of the sepulchral fragments of 
ancient Egyptian monuments, which did not appear 
to contribute to the support of the column, but to have 
been brought there for the purpose of maintaining 
the prop in its adjusted situation, until the pedestal 
could be raised upon it. The four sides of the prop 
are inscribed with Egyptian hieroglyphic figures, but 
the position of these shows that the prop has its 
original base uppermost, for they appear inverted j 
thus affording complete proof that the stone whereon 
they are inscribed belonged to other more ancient 
works, and that they must have been ruins before 
the column was erected upon its present basis 3 and 
consequently that the work is of comparatively mo- 
dem construction. 

A similar conclusion had already been made by 
Denon, shortly before Clarke's arrival in Alexandria. 
He concludes that the foundation being made of ruins 
announces a modern construction: also that the 

erection of this monument may equally belong to the 
time of the Greek emperors or to that of the caliphs. 

The latter part of Denon*s conclusion affords a 
curious instance of a practice which he himself con- 
demns,; viz., that of drawing conclusions from insuffi- 
cient data. A numerous body of men, renowned for 
their science and learning, accompanied the Frencli 
army into Egypt, with the especial object of examining; 
and collecting Egyptian antiquities. Pompey*8 Pil. 
lar was an object of careful and repeated cxaminatioQ • 
and although an inscription was known to exist on one 
of the sides of the pedestal, yet they did not succeed ia 
deciphering any part of it. They agreed in the report 
of all previous travellers, that it was too much defaced 
by time, the action of the weather, and wanton injury, 
to admit of interpretation. But that which could r&ot 
be done by the French savans, during their protracted 
stay at Alexandria, was achieved in a few weeks l>y 
some English officers, attached to the English garri- 
son at Alexandria. The names of these gentlemea 
deserve to be recorded : they were captains Dundas 
and Leake, lieutenants Desade and Squire, and Mr. 
William Hamilton. The plan by which they succeeded 
in reading the inscription was ingenious. By watching 
the pillar repeatedly during the few moments when 
the sun shone in such a direction on the pedestal, as 
to mark the letters by their shade, they were enabled 
to discriminate them one after another; and thus 
sufficient was made out to show the real origin of this 
massive pile, and to terminate the existence of a 
popular error which had existed for five hundred 

The inscription is in Greek; one translation of 
which is as follows : — 






It must be stated, that many of the letters were 
utterly illegible : but that 8o,me of the words were 
known or surmised from one or two or more of the 
letters which could be read. This remark does not 
apply to the name of the prefect who erected ths work, 
since the first two letters only of his name can b« 
deciphered. Thus Dr. Clarke's version of the inscrip-' 
tlon is somewhat different. It is as follows : — 


^honour] to the most revered emperor, 


Now since we know that Hadrian lived from the year 
of our Lord 76 to 130, it is quite clear that Pompey 
has no connexion with this pillar ; and that it onght 
no longer to bear his name. 

We have stated above that the French, when they 
saw the dilapidated state of the monument^ imme- 
diately set about repairiug it. It affords a curious 
illustration of the difference, as respects the cultivation 
of taste for works of art and monuments of antiquity^ 
between the French and the English. When the 
latter got possession of Alexandria, the visitants to 
this noble pile amused themselves with chipping off 
large pieces of granite from the pedestal, in order to 
carry them home as curiosities to their friends in 
Europe. This abuse so greatly prevailed, that a sen- 
tinel was finally placed on the spot, as the only 
means of preserving the pedestal from utter ruin. In 
1 830, Mr. Webster, in visiting Alexandria, anxiously 
proceeded to Pompey's Pillar, to read the far-famed 
inscription, on the west side of the pedestal* He 




found indeed an inscription which required no peculiar 
obliquity of the solar rays, to enable him to decipher. 
The inscription read by hitn was in gigantic letters of 
black pitchy as follows : — 


K.11.8. aLASGOW, MARCH, 1827. 

While Johnsons^ Thompsons^ and eternal Smiths, 
were innumerable : the " writing materials/' (which 
we have neglected to describe in our series on this 
subject, published in the Saturday Magazine) were 
black paint, red- ochre, pitch, and sand. 

The engraving which illustrates this article re- 
presents the means employed by some English 
sailors to arrive at the summit of this pile. By 
means of a kite^ a strong cord was passed over the 
top of the column, and securely fastened on one side, 
while one man climbed up the other. When he had 
reached the top, he made the rope still more secure, 
and others ascended, carrying with them water of the 
Thames, of the Nile, and of one of the Grecian Islands : 
a due supply of spirits was also provided, and thus a 
bowl of punch was concocted j and the healths of 
king George the Third, and other distinguished per- 
sons, were drunk. This ascent was made when the 
British fleet was in Egypt, since which time the as- 
cents have been numerous ; for, according to Mr. 
Webster, the crew of almost every man-of-war which 
has been stationed in the port of Alexandria has 
thought the national honour of British tars greatly 
concerned in ascending the height of fame, or, in other 
words, the famons height, which Pompey*s pillar 
affords. It is not unusual for a party to take break- 
fast, write letters, and transact other matters of busi- 
ness on this very summit ; and it is on record that a 
lady once had courage to join one of these high par- 

In the neighbourhood of Alexandria there exist 
two ancient monuments called Cleopatra's Needles. 
This ^ciful name has been given to two obelisks of 
red granite, one of which ia erect, and the other pro- 
strate. According to a survey of the latter, made by 
Clarke, the base measures seven feet square, and the 
length is sixty-six feet. They are covered with 
hieroglyphics cnt into the stone to the depth of two 
inches. The granite was observed to be in a decaying 

After the English were in possession of Alexan- 
dria, a subscription was opened by the military and 
naval officers for the purpose of removing the pro- 
strate obelisk to England. With the money so raised 
they purchased one of the vessels sunk by the French 
in the old port of Alexandria : this was raised, and 
prepared for the reception of the obelisk. The French 
had already cleared away the heaps of rubbish which 
enveloped it, and the English turned it round, and 
found it in a fine state of preservation. It was moved 
towards the vessel, when an order arrived from the 
Admiralty, prohibiting the sailors from being em- 
ployed at this work. 

No further attempts have been made to remove 
this fine monument to Europe. A few years ago the 
French removed a fine granite column, of the same 
iduLiacter as Cleopatra*8 Needles, 'from the interior of 
Egypt to Paris, and it now serves to adorn that 
flourishing capitaL It is called the Obelisk of 

The two needles of Cleopatra, as they are so ques- 
tionably catied, served to decorate one of the entrances 
to the palace of the Ptolemies, the ruins of which are 




Under the general title of " England in the Olden 
Time," we propose to present to our readers, occa- 
sionally, accounts of many of the ceremonies, cus- 
toms, and pastimes of our forefathers, some of which 
remain in use to the present day, while others have 
become obsolete, and are only known to us from ac- 
counts preserved in ancient manuscripts, or in some 
of the earliest printed books. 

While we are ready to grant that the future ad- 
vancement of the human race in all that is good and 
valuable, is and ought to be one of the highest objects 
of our attention, we ought also to be ready to admit 
that the usages of by-gone ages afford us valuable 
tests by which to judge of the state of mind at those 
times; and by comparing those times with the pre- 
sent, to determine how far we have advanced in 
mental and moral power, and to what extent we are 
justified in looking forward to further improvements* 
If these remarks be just, we have to decide what are 
the best tests of the manners and customs, or rather 
the state of mind, among a people. Our historians 
tell us of the wars of kings and princes, too fre- 
quently carried on for their own personal ambition 
and aggrandizement 3 — our biographers detail to us 
the actions and the thoughts of men who have ren- 
dered themselves objects of note, either for good or 
evil: — our geographical and topographical writers 
tell us what was the nature of any particular part of 
the country, whether favourable for hunting, for 
shooting, for antiquarian research, &c. But some- 
thing more than all this is necessary: the mass of 
the people, and not distinguished individuals, give the 
tone to popular customs. Mr. Strutt observes, — 

la order to form a just estimation of the character of any 
particular people, it is absolutely necessary to investigate 
the sports and pastimes most generally prevalent among 
them. War, policy, and other contingent circumstances, 
may effectually place men, at different times, in different 
points of view ; but when we follow them into their retire* 
ments, where no disguise is necessary, we are most likely 
to see them in their true state, and may best judge of their 
natural disposition. 

In fulfilment, therefore, of the plan as above an- 
nounced, we proceed to notice a curious and once 
favourite game called 


In the age of chivalry, when Europe swarmed with 
armed knights, ready to be engaged in almost any 
encounter, good or bad, it is obvious that there must 
have been times when business of importance did not 
require their attention, and when they were at liberty 
to engage in such recreative exercises as might suit 
their character and tone of mind. The tournament, 
in its various forms and modifications, was the most 
prominent of these, and one branch or division of 
the tournament was that class of exercises called 
^intainy after the name of the inventor. 

The principle of this exercise consisted in running 
or riding swiftly up to a stationary object, and striking 
it with a lance or some other weapon at the moment 
of passing it, the blow being given with especial 
attention to the attainment of some particular object. 
The original object was, to habituate youthful knights 
to the steady and accurate use of the lance during a 
combat, and while on horseback. The quintain, or 
object at which to strike, was originally nothing more 
than a trunk of a tree, or a post. Afterwards this 
was replaced by an imitation of the human head and 
body, carved in wood, and turning upon a pivot. 
The figure held a shield in its left arm, and bran- 




[FlBXUlIT 2, 

diahed a wooden eabre ia the right la mnning at 
this figure it was necessary for the hofsemaa to direct 
his lauce with great adroitness, aad strike upon the 
forehead between the eyes, or upon the nose ; for if 
he struck wide of those parts, especially upon the 
shield, the quintain turned about with much velocity, 
and, in case he was not exceedingly careful, would 
give him a severe hlow on the back with the wooden 
sabre held in the right hand : this was considered 
highly disgraceful to the performer, while it excited 
the laughter and ridicule of the spectators. In point 
of importance, a blow between the eyes was reckoned 
best, — on the nose, second best, — and under the nose 
third in excellence. 

This exercise was not confined to horsemen, but 
was also conducted on foot. A poil-quintaiit, or a 
firmly-fixed pillar, was the object of attack. The 
practitioner assailed this post, armed with sword and 
shield, aiming his blows as if at the head, the face, 
the arms, the legs, or the sides, of his supposed an- 
tagonist: taking care at the same time to keep him- 
self so completely covered with his shield, as not to 
give any advant^, supposing he had a real enemy 
to cope with. 

It was one of the lawi of chivalry, that no one 
under the rank of an esquire could engage in the 
justs and tournaments of which we read so much in 
early writers. It followed from this, that if the 
people generally wished to engage in such exercises, 
they had to establish a particular class of them for 
themselves. This was the case in England. Many 
rude varieties of quintains were employed in t 
thirteenth and two following centuries. The quint; 
was frequently nothing better than a stake fixed into 
the ground, with a flat piece of board made fast to 
the upper part of it, as a substitute for a shield ; and 
such as could not procure horses, contented them- 
selves with running on foot to the quintain. Youth- 
ful aspirants to chivalric fame, sometimes manu- 
factured a wooden horse on four wheels: one boy 
sat on the horse, and two others drew him along 
towards the quintain, at which he struck with a pole, 
or any other implement, which he could persuade 
himself bore a resemblance to a lance. This sport is 
represented in the accompanying figure. 


Dr. Plott, in his Hutory of Ox/ordihirt, describe! 
the quintain of the peasantry, as used in his time. 

They flret set a post 'perpendicularly into the grouDd, 
and then place a slender piece of limber on the lop of it, on 
a sprndle. with a board nailed to it on one end. and a ban 
of sand hanging at the other. I saw it at Deddington in 
this county. ABainat this board they strike with strong 
staves, which violently brinifing about the bag of sand, if 
they make not good epeed away, it snikes them in the 
neck or shoulders, and sometimes knocks them off theli 
horses :— the great design of this sport being to try the 

agihty both of horse and man, and to bretk the bosri. It 
is now only in request at maniagei, and set up in tha nj 
tot young men to ride at as they corrv home (he bride; b« 
that breaks the board being counted tne best man. 

Stow describes the prevalence of the same paatime 
at a spot which a modem Londoner would be Ijttk 
disposed to expect. 

This exercise of running at the quintain, was pniliMd 
in London, as well in the Summer as in the Wioter; but 
especially at the feast of Christmas, I have teen a ouioluD 
set upon CornbilJ, by Leadcnhall, nbere the attendsDbot 
the lords of merry disports have run and made grot 
pastime; for he that hit not the boatd end fk the qaJDliin 
was laughed to icora, and he that hit it fhll, if he rode not 
the faster, had a sound blow upon his neck with a twg liill 
of sand hanged on the other end. 

Another variety of this sport we* the wattr-jwUsin, 
usually practised by young Londoner* upon the 
water during the Easter holidays. A pole or miat 
was fixed in the n)Idst of the Thames, with a shield 
firmly attached to it A boat, which was placed it 
some distance, was driven swiftly towards it by the 
combined force of tide and of oarsj and a yoiuig 
man who stood at the prow struck against the shield 
with a lance, as the boat passed onward. If he were 
dexterous enough to break the lance against te 
shield, and retain his place, the intended ubiject wii 
answered; but if he failed in so doing, he was almoit 
ineviUbly precipitated into the water, and the bolt 
went on without him ; two other boats were, how- 
ever, at hand, to render him assistance, and pick 
him up. The bridge, {for there was then no odier 
bridge than London Bridge over the Thames,) whirfs, 
and houses near the river, were crowded with spec- 
Utors, to witness these exhibitions. 

When Leicester entertained Queen Elizabeth at 
Kenilworth, among the other entertainments wu s 
represenlatiun of a country bridal. 

In the castle, (says Laneham,) was set up a conelr 
quintane for feats at annes, where, in a great compmy » 
joung men and lasses, the bridegroom had the first tome 
at the quintane, and broke his spear "tr& hsrdiuwnt" 
(very boldly, or with much courage). But his msre in hit 
manage did a liUle stumble, that much adoe bad hit ntn- 
hood to sit in his saddle. But after the bridegroom hiA 
made bis course, ran the rest of the band, awhile in sopie 
onlar, but soon after tag and rag, cut and long tail; where 
the speciality of the spon was to see how some fbr hi) 
slackness had a good bob with the bag, and some Ibr hit 
hsste 10 topple downright, and come tumblinK to tbe pott: 
some strinng so much at the flrst setting out, that it seemeil 
a question between man and beasl, whether the race should 
be performed on horseback or on foot; and tome put foilh 
with spurs, would run his race byas among tbe thickest of 
the throng, that down they came together hand over heoiL 
Another while he directed his course to the quintane, hit 
judgment would carry him to a mare emoDg tbe people; 
another would run and miss the quintane with his slsff, 
and hit the board with bis head. 

Another quintain, used as a juvenile sport, wu > 
tub full of water balanced on a post or pillar; aad 
tbe trial of skill consisted in striking this with a 
lance or pole in such a manner that the wata, when 
tbe tub was npset, should not drench the spearsmaa. 

Military men in the middle ages sometisies prac- 
tised at a man completely anned, whose business it 
vras to act upon the defensive,- and parry tkeir bbwi 
with his shield. An obaervation made by one knigbt 
to another on this subject has been preserred : — 

I do not by any means esteem you auffioiently vilisnt for 
me to take a lance and just with you; tbereftn-e 1 deiira 
you to retire to some distance from me, and then run at o" 
with all your force, and I will be your quintain. 

Sometimes a man, representing a living quintain, 
was seaud upon a stool with three legs without an/ 
support behind, and the business of the tUtex wu ta 


' him ; vhite, on bis part, he was to tarn 
: of the pole or lance un one side with hia 
lich, if adroitly accomplished, seldom failed 
tate his aatagODist to the ground, 
r kind of qutatain exercise was practised 
sy lance or shield, the feet serring both 
>tie maa, seated on a itool, held up one leg 
ily:— another man stood opposite to him, 
his uplifted foot endeavonred to thrust the 
tiis stool, which the latter, of coarse, ea- 
[ to prevent: — the soles of the opposing 
[1 be understood, came in contact, 
her form of the sport, the sitter holds np 
I in the last instance; but his opponent is 
t swing, and being drawn back by a third 
c velocity with which he swings forward is 
loving power by which to knock the sitter 
lot ; if this'fsils, the swinger is very liable 
wn backward out of hia swing. 
t variety which we shall give, and which can 
lo under the name of quintain, is repre- 

the annexed cut. Two persons sit upon 
1, place the soles of tlitir fett in contact, 

hold of a stick common to both of them. 
It consists in endeavouring to overturn the 
; l>y main pulling force. 

or mnnhig at the ring, differed but little 
itain. A ring, suspended from a kind of 
ng BO as to be on a level with the eyebrow 
ietOBD. He rode under it at full speed, 
is head aa he passed, and aimed at thrusting 
nto the ring, and bearing it off as a trophy 

St reserve justs and toamaments for a sipa- 


: day Btandinf; on a low ledge of rock, enjoying 
Sil scenery of the Tay, I nitneaaed nverysirikinp, 
as I knoir, novel exhibition, touching natural 
ag nothing legs than a chase upon terra flrmaoT 
n eel, and illustrative in a remarkable manner 
irness with which the latter animal pursues its 
attention was first dratrn to the spot by s rust' 
where I sair the fugitive in the act of emerging 
■ter. The eel. of large dimensiong, soon fol- 
ter promptljr effecting a landing on the rock on 
s standing, nhich both of them did with great 
he crab took to bishsels with oil manner of des- 
soon ahon-ed bis pursuer tho advantage of tlie 
)f a supply of lirobs. The eel, however, nothing 
though laboaring under the primeval curse of 
I, dashed after him with the utmost eagerness; 
oon obvious that the locomotive macmnery of 
'Bs diimalljr at AtulU He n-ormed, misted, and 
iinself to and fro to comparatively little purpose, 
t this way he kept up the chase for a consi- 
taiiM. until at length, on my approach, both ot 
K short cut) and got again into the water.— ? 

The fruits constitute a very peculiar set of produc- 
tions, united by a common bond ; in a certain sense, 
supcrftuoua to us, and sources of pleasure. Many of 
them may be viewed as originally designed for food 
alone ; but we need not here consider them in this 
light, nor point out their salutary, medicinal, or other 
useful qualities ; since the present inquiry is Umited 
to superfluities, or pore sources of pleasure. Yet 
there are two general facts relating to fruits wbii.4t 
must not be passed over ; becaase they must be re- 
garded as special efforts of beneficence, whether the 
results belong to food, health, or pleasure. 

The most remarkable of these is the succession in 
which they have been destined to appear, and it will 
be most striking to him who shall consider it as a 
philosophical botaoist. It is opposed to the inferencea 
which science would have made before experience j 
while, being known, it defies all explanation. Like 
so much more, we must view it aa an arbitrary law, 
or as the will of God ; acting, by whatever means it 
does act, f'tr the good of His creatures. 

Of many fruits at least, the nature is necessarily 
transitor)'. They are always connected in some 
manner with the seeds, which must often be dispersed 
as soon as they arrive at maturity, that the plant may 
be perpetuated. Or they are particular portions of 
the whole fructification, which must, from its very 
nature, have soon perished : while, in other cases, 
they could not but partake of the temporary duration 
of the whole vegetable ; or are such that their value 
and uses depend on a constitution, both organic and 
chemical, which ia of necessity perishable. Whkt 
then would have happened, had all plants produced 
their froita at the same period; as we might have 
expected, knowing that heat is the cause of their pro- 
duction and their ripening? They could not have 
been consumed : we should have been overwhelmed 
with them for one short period ; and, through the 
rest of the year, we should have wanted . And accord 
ingly, where this arrangement is more purely condu- 
cive to pleasure, they have been commanded to appear 
in succession, so that as one vanishes, another is ready 
to supply its jilace. We profit by thia even in our 
own abort summer : it is more extensively the fact in 
tropical climates, where these productions are fn 
more numerous, and their uses, both to man and 
animals, much greater. And if, in our limited sum- 
mers, these fruits must be equally limited, so is it 
contrived that the want, the necessity, or the utility, 
and almost the enjoyment, should keep pace with the 
means. Under our artificial habits this cannot be 
rigidly exact} but the general truth is sufficiently 

The other fact alluded to, conduces to the same 
good ends. All fruits are not transitory or perishable, 
so OS to demand immediate consumption. On the 
contrary we find in them the greatest variety ; from 
an immediate urgency to be used as soon aa they are 
perfect, to a power of delay which enables us to pre- 
serve them through an entire year, till a new summer 
comes, to recommence the same round. And so ad- 
mirably have the provisions for this been appointed, 
that many will not ripen on the parent tree : a fact 
which, famiUar as it is, offers no small difHculty, both 
in vegetable and ordinary chemistry. Did the organic 
chemistry not continue to act, the fruit would rot, 
since this is the invariable result of that agent 
when life has left those organizations. The stored 
apple is not teas alive than its seeds : its principle of 
vitality remains, one of those inexplicable detach- 
tnenta, like the slip, from the ^GMxik^«, vcA'^ c*kv 



[Febritart 2, 

tinues to act on the flaids which the veaselfl contain, 
through those vital powers which equally directed the 
organic chemistry before. Thus does it convert the 
malic acid into augar, and thus many other similar 
conversions are e£fected i not one of which, extra- 
organic, or common chemistry, has yet been able to 


In this and other modes, have provisions been thus 
made for preserving fruits and continuing their use- 
ful succession $ while the most universal of these is a 
constitution which renders them naturally durable -, 
often, without any effort of our own | and, at other 
times, under some assistance from art. And this 
provision, like the former, extends its influence very 
widely. The constitution of the globe did not allow 
of an equal climate or summer to all the world, 
though man is permitted to dwell everywhere. Com- 
merce, equalizing in a great measure this necessarily 
partial distribution, causes the inconvenience to be 
little felt. In the latter case, where the constitution 
of the fruit is naturally durable, as in the date, for 
example, there is nothing to excite peculiar notice, 
more than in other instances of analogous commerce. 
But there is a contrivance in some of the perishable 
or truly summer fruits of the hot climates, which 
must not be passed over : enabling them not only to 
be preserved, but transported far and wide ; adding 
to the wealth of those who produce, and to the en- 
josrment of those who consume, as they also add to 
the wealth even of the latter, by stimulating labour. 
The lemon and the orange ripen, like the apple, at a 
distant time, without the aid of the parent tree, or 
the paxent climate ^ without light, and without heat : 
giving us, in the regions of snow, all that we could 
have derived from a tropical sun. An object so 
fiimiliar is, as usual, little considered : but, indepen- 
dently of this power of delay, of the extraordinary 
eonversion of citric acid into sugar, in this little and 
strange laboratory, and of an investment which, ap- 
pointed for the defence of the interior, is moreover so 
contrived that it shall furnish the greatest resistance 
when that was most needed, he who is still ignorant 
must be taught to admire the beautiful mechanism* 
elsewhere pointed out, through which the enclosed 
floid is preserved, under a great chemical difficulty. 
Had the exterior structure included a fluid only, as 
the cocoa-nut does* and as, to all of its immediately 
useful purposes, it might have done, this must have 
fallen into fermentation, as chemistry well knows. 
Yet that has been guarded against, and in the exact 
manner in which this science would have suggested. 
Each compartment is so small, that fermentation 
eannot take place : while it is not unlikely that this 
very law* so unexpected under our general knowledge 
of this process, was appointed for such and similar 
ends. Nor was this structure necessary, as r^ards 
either the vegetable or the produce. The fluid might 
have been secreted as that of the cocoa-nut is j it 
would have been equally useful to those who possessed 
the tree, but its wider uses would have been unat- 

I may turn to the further provision for preserva- 
tion and transportation which has been made through 
drying -y most often, but not necessarily, demanding 
the assistance of art. Thus do the fig, and the date, 
and the gri^e, almost preserve themselves j as many 
others require but litUe aid from our own industry, 
while the means are thus pointed out to us by nature. 
If Arabia would be uninhabited without the camel* so 
might it but for the date : while the properties of both 
equally are such as man would have given, had he pos- 
sessed the power with the inventive faculty. But the 
fundamental provision for this is laid in that of sugar s 

a substance deserving peculiar notice* not only as an 
article of food, or a source of enjoyment more uni- 
versally allotted to animals, than any other of the 
productions affecting the sense of taste, but because 
of its remarkable chemical properties, directed, we 
can scarcely doubt, essentially to the ends here under 
review. Incapable of change itself, it preserves not 
merely the vegetable, but even the animal organiza- 
tions, from chemical destruction : and thence ako, 
where nature has not added it to the fruits in sufficient 
quantity, is art enabled to supply it with the same 
useful results, in modes which are as familiar as they 
are numerous. 

To return now to the consideration of the fruits 
themselves, it is necessary first to remark* that 
although appendages to the seeds, in some manner* 
they are not essential to those, or to the perpetuation 
of the plant. And being superfluities, we most con* 
elude that they were superadded for an extraneous 
purpose, indicated with sufficient clearness by the 
uses or pleasures which they afford to us. Had this 
superfluity, however, always been of the same nature, 
or had every fruit constituted the same portion of 
fructification, we might still have imagined some 
necessity as to the plant itself, or attributed the whole 
to some needful vegetable arrangement. The present 
variety iji hostile to such a conclusion, and unites with 
the fact of the superfluity, in leading to that which I 
have here drawn, I must therefore give a slight 
sketch of the botanical nature of fruits, mbngh limit- 
ing myself to familiar, and nearly to domestic ex* 

In the strawberry* the fruit is the reoeptade ; a 
spongy substance with an expanded surface* to which 
the seeds are attached superficially. Though in a 
very different class, and with a very different law as 
to the relation between the grower and the seed, it is 
a similar part which sustains the seed in the thistle 
and danddion. The analogy of these shows that 
however the receptacle was necessary to the straw* 
berry, it need not have become a fruit The dry re- 
ceptacle of the thistle is equally efficacious to the 
support and protection of the seeds. The pine-apple 
may be associated with this, if not with botanical ac- 
curacy. Here, a whole plant has been occiq>ied in 
producing a single firnit, almost as large as itself; 
while it is an entire superfluity, and also a very 
operose arrangement* compared to the froit of the 
strawberry. And as if it had been foreseen that the 
use of the fruit would destroy the seed, in both, each 
plant has been enabled to continue itself by voluntary 
offsets, and the latter* further* by that obstinately 
vital production, the crown, which the consumer oif 
the fruit would be troubled to destroy* as its offensive 
nature makes him gladly throw it away. 

The Acinus of botanists omstitutes the basis of 
another dass of fruits, and the raspberry is a ^mili'^^ 
example. In this case there are more seeds than one 
connected with the superfluous structure which con- 
stitutes the fruit ; while the smallness of the recep- 
tacles for the juice serves the same purposes as the 
bottles in the orange. And as there are dry acioi, 
just as there are dry receptacles in some pbudts, of 
which the American raspberry is n familiar example, 
the conclusion is the same in botii cases. If the in- 
stance here selected is an example of a perishable 
fruit, the acini in the pomegranate are protected by a 
coveriug of great strength, conferring a power of pre- 
servation and transportation, even greater than that 
allotted to the orange. 

The berries form a far larger and much more 
various class of fruits. It is here equally easy to 
convince ourselves that the fruit is a pure superfluity. 




The number of dry, or insipid, or disagreeable ber- 
ries, is far greater than that of the others, while the 
uses to the seeda are equally served, whether the ob- 
ject of these be simply perpetuation, or use to animals ; 
and in these there are more contrivances than one, 
for effecting that which is attained through the divi- 
sion of the juice in the orange and in the raspberry. 
There is also a distinct mechanical separation, not 
only tending to prevent fermentation, but to confer 
firmness on the fluid* In others, that structure is so 
minute that it is not easUy detected : consisting of a 
delicate cellular organization, resembling that of the 
vitreous humour of the eye, and equally giving to the 
watery fluid the aspect of a jelly or a mucilage. And 
in other instances again, there is a gelatinous or mu- 
cilaginous substance united to the acid juice ; which, 
by preventing the intestine motions of the fluids, 
equally checks fermentation, as it also aids in pro- 
ducing that necessary solidity, which the protecting 
investiture alone would not have accomplished. 

The grape, the gooseberry, and the currant, are in- 
stances under this head, which I need scarcely extend : 
but it is interesting to remark that where the berry is 
small, as in the red currant for example, these pro- 
visions for solidity and against fermentation, are 
nearly or comparatively dispensed with ; just as they 
are in the acini, and in the orange, where there is 
little mucilage, and no cellular structure. And if 
the intention of these several inventions is thus 
proved^ thus also do we discover, as in endless other 
instances, that creation does not indulge in useless 
superfluities, and that the same end is obtained through 
variety of contrivance. 

[Maccullocr's Proofs and Illuttratiani of the Attrihuta 

of God.] 


Thsus is, perhaps, not one of our readers but who 
kas, at some period of his life, been charmed with the 
fesdnating and often surprising effects of Echoes. 
The boy who shouts when passing opposite to any of 
the crescents or polygons' forming some of the in- 
habited streets of London; the surprise experienced 
by the visitor to the Whispering- gallery at St. Paul's ; 
the augmentation of sound produced by playing a 
musical instrument in a vaulted apartment; and the 
excited attention which a reader pays to the recitals 
of travellers, respecting the reverberation of the voice 
in the Hindoo caves near Bombay; in the central 
mausoleum of the Egyptian pyramids ; and in other 
similar excavations, ail show that echo is one of those 
occurrences which must not be omitted in enume- 
rating the pleasant associations which smooth our path 
through life. A brief account of the origin and 
nature of Echoes may perhaps not be unacceptable 
to many of our readers. 

^ Before the introduction of the Christian religion, 
and when the minds of men, having no definite ideas 
of a Deity to rest upon, were wont to ascribe im- 
mortal attributes to those powers or occurrences 
which they could not understand, echo was believed 
to be the voice of an invisible nymph, who, having 
pined for love, frequented lonely places, and repeated 
the name of her lover. There was something beau- 
tiful in the idea, but, like most of the poetic imagin- 
ings of the ancient Greeks, it possessed the worst of 
all faults, t. e., it was not true ! By degrees more just 
notions of the cause of echo, as well as of most other 
natural occurrences, gained ground ; and for many 
ages men have been well assured, that echo is nothing 
more than the reflection of sound from a solid surface. 
Most of our readers are awan, that there is no 

such thing in nature as absolute space, that is, space 
quite unoccupied by matter of some kind or other. 
A vessel of any kind, which, in common every, day 
language, is said to be empty, is, as our readers know, 
full of atmospheric air. Now this may, by means of 
the air-pump, be almost wholly removed. The space 
enclosed by this vessel is now called a vaemm, but 
not correctly so, since the air-pump 'cannot i«move 
all the air : and it is probable that in nature there is 
no such thing as a vacuum, or absolutely empty 
space. When, therefore, we blow into a flute, or 
through a trumpet, we disturb the air which exists 
in the cavities of those instruments ; and when the 
effect of that blast has reached the further end of the 
tube, we are justified in askiag, ** what becomes of 
that disturbance, and how is it that the effect thereof 
reaches the ears of the player and of others near 
him ?** The answer is, that if the room in which the 
player were situated contained 'no air, no sound 
whatever would be heard ; he might blow until he 
were exhausted, but he would hear no effect from it^ 
—all would be dead silence ; but, when the room is 
(as it invariably is) filled with air, the particles of 
air nearest to the instrument become agitated by the 
blast through the tube; they disturb the particles 
next to them, these latter convey that disturbance to 
others still further remote, &c., until, at length, every 
portion of air in the room, however large it may be, 
becomes agitated : the next step is, that the particles 
which happen to be nearest to the ear of any person 
in the room, impart their trembling motion to a sort 
of drum, situated in the cavity of the ear, about an 
inch from the surface, and called the tympanum * of 
the ear. 

What we have said of the effect produced by blow* 
ing into a flute or trumpet, is equally true if the dis- 
turbance be brought about by any other means. If 
we sing, talk, cough, touch the string of a guitar or 
harp, draw a bow across a violin-string, clash a pair 
of cymbals together, vibrate the strings of a piano« 
forte by pressing down the keys, strike an anvil with 
a hammer, draw the teeth of a saw across a piece of 
wood, or those of a file across a piece of metal, or 
produce a vibratory motion of any kind in a sub- 
stance surrounded with air, that vibration and dis« 
turbance will be imparted to the air, and from it to 
the tympanum of the ear, and then we say we hear 
the sound of the cymbals, violin, &c., for it must bo 
understood that each sort of sound has the property 
of affecting or agitating the air in a manner peculiar 
to itself. 

Knowing now that we should be incapable of hear* 
ing, were it not that air exists between the sounding 
body and our ears, we may naturally ask, " Do we 
hear a sound as soon as it is produced, or does it 
occupy an appreciable time in reaching the ear?" 
Any one who has seen a gun fired, or who has seen a 
flash of lightning, can answer this question; the 
spark is emitted from the flint at the same time that 
the discharge of the gunpowder (which produces the 
report,) takes place, and yet a spectator some hun* 
dred yards distant sees the spark before he hears the 
sound. Again, the rapid passage of electricity through 
the atmosphere produces light, and the consequent 
disturbance of the particles of air produce sound at 
the same instant, and yet we see the lightning before 
we hear the thunder. This must show us at once 
that sound travels more slowly than light. For all 
common calculation the passage of light may be con- 
sidered instantaneous, inasmuch as it moves with a 
velocity of about 200,000 miles in a second, (that is, 
equal to eight times the distance from England to the 

* TTttpanum it the Latin word for drnnif 

. 48 


[FfiBRUART 2, 1839. 

East Indies and back again, between two ticks of the 
pendulum of a clock). We shall, therefore, be not 
far in error in saying, that we see the flash of a gun 
the instant it is produced. 

Now it has been ascertained, that when a cannon 
was fired on one hill, the observers on another hill 
heard the report four seconds after the flash appeared -, 
and, on measuring the distance, the hills were found 
to be loOO yards from each other. The sound, there- 
fore, took four seconds to travel 1500 yards, which 
makes 375 yards, or 1125 feet, per second, that is 
about three times the height of, St. PauFs. The 
writer of this article has frequently heard the drum, 
which forms part of the mihtary band on duty in St. 
Jame8*s Park every morning, at a distance of two 
miles from that spot; the sound, therefore, was heard 
about nine and a half seconds after it was produced, 
and all the air between those two stations was agi- 
tated by that sound. 

These are instances in which there is nothing to 
stop or impede the progress of the sound ; but, sup* 
pose a person to be standing in front of a high wall 
or smooth rock (for smooth surfaces reflect sounds 
much better than rough ones), and to shout, or to 
produce a loud sound by any other means, he would, 
by so doing, agitate the air near him, and that agita- 
tion would spread itself further and further until it 
reached the wall, where it would meet with a solid 
obstacle to stop its further progress. Now it might 
be supposed that the agitation or vibration of the air 
would terminate here, but it is hot so ; it immediately 
begins to travel backwards in the direction in which 
it came, and would strike upon. the ear of the person 
who uttered the sound, as if the sound itself came 
from the wall ' instead of from his own voice. This 
backward travelling of the sound is called an echo, 
and however various may be the circumstances under 
which an echo is produced, we may always be sure 
that there is a surface which reflects or drives back 
the sound which is produced. Some surfaces do so 
better than others. The perfection of this reflection 
depends often upon the form of the reflecting surface. 
A convex surface is a bad reflector, a flat one is a 
good reflector, but a concave surface is best of all. 
The surface of water and even clouds sometimes act 
as reflectors of sound. 

But now we have to inquire, whether, if two per- 
sons be placed in front of the wall, and at some dis- 
tance from each other, they will both hear the echo, 
or if not, which of the two will hear it ? This will 
altogether depend upon whether the surface of the 
wall is immediately fronting the observer, or whether 
it be in a slanting or oblique direction ; if the latter 
be the case, the speaker will never hear the echo of 
his own voice. We shall be able to illustrate this 
by reference to a popular sport with which many of 
our readers are no doubt acquainted. Suppose c d 
and F to represent three persons playing at racket or 
fives, and a b to be the wall against which they strike 
the ball; if d wishes to strike the ball in such a 
direction, that it shall return back again to him to 

receive the second blow, he will 
Aa strike it straight forward towards 
E, knowing from experience that 
if he strikes it in a sloping direc- 
tion, either to the right or left, it 

D ^ will not rebound back to him 

again. If the player c wish to 

strike it so that the player f shall 

F y^ ■ have the next opportunity, he will 

b" not send it towards a, but he will 

send it in an oblique direction 

towards e, expecting (and he will not be disappointed 

in his expectation), that it will rebound to the po- 
sition F. 

Now it did not require any mathematical reasontug 
to convince these players how to attain their objtet; 
they learned it by experience, by observing that 
unless they directed the ball towards a certain point, 
it would not rebound to the position which they re- 
quired: and we hope to be equally able, without 
using scientific language, to show that echoes occur 
in just the same way Suppose, instead of a wall 
A B, that we had only a small portion of one near 
A, and that the person situate at c were to ntter a 
loud sound, he would then hear the echo of his own 
voice, because the surface at a is just in the position 
to reflect the sound directly towards him, but the 
person at f would not hear it at all any more than 
he would have received the ball had it been propelled 
towards a. But now suppose that the surface of 
rock or wall is at e b instead of a, in that case the 
speaker at c would not hear the echo of his own 
voice ; because, after encountering the wall, the sound 
would rebound towards f as the ball would have 
done had it been struck to the point e. 

There is a scientific mode of expressing the direc- 
tion in which the reflection will take place, by saying 
that the *' angle of incidence is always equal to the 
angle of reflection,*' which in familiar language 
means, that however slanting the ball may approach 
the wall, it will rebound in an equally slanting direc- 
tion. But let any two of our young readers personate 
the players c and f for a short time, and they wiJ 
acquire a clearer notion than books can give them 
the direction in which echoes are reflected. 

If, instead of two fragments of wall at a and ^^ 
the whole wall were perfect, persons variously place^z^i 
before the wall would each of them hear an ech ^cd 
from some point or other ; but it must be borne imct 
mind that each person would hear an echo from ob^^ 
point only. Understanding now that sound traveK.^ 
at the rate of 1 1 25 feet per second, and that echo Mm 
merely the reflection of a sound from an opposiife S 
surface, we will in a future number give instances c^^ 
various kinds of echoes. 

Vegetation, when assisted by human contrivances, is tb.^ 
best possible means of improving the air, and rendering * 
country fitter for the abode of mankind. Cultivation r^ 
moves the corruption and decaying vegetables; and t^J 
turning them under the earth, makes them nourish tli« 
ground instead of poison the air. Many British colonies 
at one time so deadly, are now healthy, not so much frot» 
the care of the new-comer, in avoiding the remote causes of 
disease, as from the greater number of these causes beio^ 
removed by cultivation. I mean here, by cuUivatioHf tb^' 
treatment of the land bv which it will furnish the largest 
possible quantitv of food for man and the domestic animal* 
he employs ; wherever we find corn capable of srowiit^' 
that country is, or by human labour maybe made,healtby* 
Cultivation, likewise, always renders a country tcarmer, f^^ 
a large quantity of vegetable matter is raised on a giv^^ 
space; and what is vegetable life but the conversion of ce^ 
tain gases, oxygen, hydrogen, azote, and carbonic acid in^^ 
solid mater, and a change of form — an alteration from * 
rarer to a denser state — which must be accompanied by tl*^ 
extrication of heat ? What is it that makes living veg"^' 
tables so difficult of being frozen, compared to detuL onef 
but this constant formation and existence of calorie ^ 
them ? As an example of the evolution of heat, by tl^ 
process of vegetation, it may be mentioned, that on lookiti^^ 
into a wood in spring, we shall find the small plants mo 
advanced in size and strength than those of the plains. 






Sold by all Booksallen and NfWfTead«n in tb* Kiagitom. 

N9 424. FEBRUARY gT", 1839. {oJ'f",V 



[February 9, 


Tanner gives the following account of the origin of 
the ecclesiastical establishment at Carlisle. 

Several writers of St. Cuthbert's life, tell us of that holy 
man's founding here, a. d. 68G, a Convent of monks, a 
School, and an Abbey of nuns; but from Beile's life of St. 
Cuthbert, it seems as if tlie monastery here to which Queen 
EnneuburKa retired, was in being before St. Cuthbert's 
cominjij to Carlisle. But all these ecclesiastical buildings, 
with the city and adjacent country, being laid waste in the 
Danish wars, the city was rebuilt and fortified by King 
"William Rufus : and Walter, a Norman priest, being made 
by that kinjr governor of the city, began a monastery to tho 
honour of the Virgin Mary: which was finished and en- 
dowed by King Henry the First, who placed regular ca- 
nons therein, and wheiJ he had established the Bishop's see 
hnrC^ made this church a cathedral : but it is observable 
that this was thtf only episcopal chapter in England of the 
order of St. Austin. 

King Mtftiry the First, before the foundation of the 
bishoprick, ^as A benefactor to the priory; and Kings 
Heftrjr the Third, and Edward the First, bestowed 
larg^ possessions on the Bishoj^ And Church. The first 
Bishoti of Carlisle was Athelwold, Who was consecra- 
ted in 1133, and died iti 1156. The cathedral was 
built at varidtts periods, and displays specimens of 
different styles of architecture. The length of the 
choiJ' is 137 feetj its height 75; its breadth, together 
with the aisles, 71. The breadth of the transept is 28 
feet J its length 124. The height of the square 
embattled tower in the centre, between the nave 
and transept from the afea of the church, is about 
130 feet. 

Although this edifice is partly stiirounded by build- 
ings and tfeesj there are Seteral points of view in 
wl^ch it nrtay be seeti M advantage. The cathedral 
"was original))^ H cotnplete c^oss-(:faufch, and had 
cloisters ildd a ehapfer-hotise. The greatest pai^ of 
the cloisters, ahd a Iftrge pofUon of tbe nave, were de- 
stroyed in the civil Warsj th<j i^a tetnaitiing aisle* of 
the nave are fifted tip at the parish-church of St. 
Mary. Thia paH la t9ortna«t, tif a simple and massive 
character; btlt the greatest portion, eastward, is early 
English, of elegatit dcpigti, pairts being much orha- 
inented with foliage^ &c* The east end is decbrated, 
and seems to have fepfaced a front of earlier date. 
The transepts are Harrow and short, and have no aisles, 
but there is a small chapel east of the South transept, 
dedicated to St. Catherine, which Was founded and 
endowed by John de Capella, a citizen of Carlisle. 
The choir consists of seven arches, with a small one 
eastward, which spring from clustered piers with rich 
capitals ; it has aisles, and is considerably wider than 
the nave. The choir was begun by Bishop Welton, in 
the reign of Edward the Third, and finished by the 
succeeding bishops, Appleby and Strickland, the ex- 
penses being chiefly defrayed by subscriptions. In 
arches, formed in the walls of the aisles, are some 
monumental effigies mitred, but the persons whom 
they represent are not known. The tower is small 
and low, and coincides with the centre of the nave. 
The early English clerestory windows have been filled 
with tracery of a later date, and there are a few per- 
pendicular windows inserted In the aisles. The east 
front contains one of the finest, if not the finest, deco- 
rated window in the kingdom. It is much decayed^ 
but its elegance of composition, delicacy of arrange- 
ment, and the harmony of iti parts, rank It even 
higher than the celebrated west window of York 
Cathedral, which It also etceeds In the iinmbef of 
divisions, as It has nine lights. This window, wiich 
is fifty feet high and thirty broad, fills the space be- 
tween two very bold buttresses, crowned with fine 
pinnacles Nvhich rise above the ridge of the roof. 

Over the great window, it a small onoof rich tifeery 
to light the roof. 

The chapter-house and cloisters stood oa the south 
side of the cathedral. Part of the dormitory is still 
remaining, as well as the refectory, which is now used 
as the chapter-house. The priory-gate is alsd standing, 
and in tolerable repair. It was built by Prlof Senhous; 
in 1507. L. Salkeld was the last prior, the priory 
having been dissolved in 1540 by King Henry the 
Eighth, who, in its place, erected and incorporated a 
dean and chapter, by the name of the Dean and 
Chapter of the Holy and Undivided Trinity of Cariisle. 
Salkeld's initials appear upon several parts of the 
carved work in the choir of the cathedral. 

On the north side of the choir, near the comma- 
nion table, is a curious monumental brass plate, 
erected to the memory of Dr. Henry Robinson, 
who was bom at Carlisle, about the year 1556, and 
afterwards became Bishop of the diocese. The emi- 
nence to which this person attained from an humbk 
beginning, supplies one among the many instances of 
the great rewards which are thrown open in this coun- 
try to professional lal>our and merit. 

Henry Robinson was educated at Queen*s College, 
Oxford, where he was at first only " a poor serving 
child," but afterwards became Provost of the coll-fge, 
and conferred distinguished benefits on that establish- 
ment. He is designated on the tablet, as a " most 
watchful Bishop of this Church for eighteen years." 
Near the top of the plate an angel is represented, 
bearing a scroll, inscribed " T«k £«i0yo««k,'* *' To the 
Sishopg," And above it is the following passage, in 
Latin, from St. Luke, having allusion to episcopal 
vigilance ; *' And there were in the same country shep- 
herds abiding in the field, keeping watch otvr their flock 
bp night,'* The main features of his history, as a 
clergyman, which are here portrayed, appear so 
pleasing and honourable, that we cannot forbear 
describing them briefly. Over the entrance of the 
. cathedral, as represented on the brass, are the words 
" Intravit per ostium,** or " He entered in by the door** 
On a label across the entrance is, " Permansit fidelis," 
'* He remained faithful unto the end" And below, on 
the steps, •* Recessit beatus," *' He departed blessed," 
The bishop also appears in his full episcopal dress, 
with a pastoral staff in one hand, and in the other a 
lighted candle and a cord : to the cord three dogs are 
attached, guarding as many sheep-folds from wolves. 
Below is a group of figures, who are holding imple- 
ments of agriculture and useful industry. Near 
them is a wolf playing with a lamb; and various war- 
like instruments are lying (scattered and broken. 
These prophetic illustrations of the blessings of the 
Messiah's kingdom are properly introduced, as at- 
tending on the faithful ministration of His word, by 
His appointed servant, 

and well become 
The messenger of grace to guilty men ! 

The most eminent of the bishops of this diocese 
was James Usher, Archbishop of Armagh, in Ireland, 
who had leave to hold the see of Carlisle in addition. 
He accordingly received the administration of it in 
1641, and held it till his death, which happened at 
Reigate, Surrey, in the year 1 655. From this time the 
bishoprick of Carlisle remained vacant for five years. 
At the ircstoration it was conferred on Dr. Rtchard 
Sterne, afterwards archbishop of York. The Hon. 
and Right Rev. Hugh Percy, D.D., is the present 

To the cathedral belong a Bishop, a Dean, a Chan- 
cellor, an Archdeacon, fbur Prebendaries, a theolo- 
gical lecturer, five Minor Canons, four lay clerks, six 
choristers^ and six almsmen. 





No. II. 

The apple furnishes a familiar model for another 
cla^s of fruits, though the variety under it is very 
limited. If this structure should be considered as a 
mere protection for the seeds, it would be a very 
superfluous one; and the real intention is not less 
visible. In the case of the cashew, externally resem- 
bliag tfaye apple, if botanically dififeriug, the fruit is an 
absolute superfluity -, since it does not even enclose 
the otherwise fully- protected seed. If the cellular 
structure of thisse fruits ehecks fermentation, as in 
the former cases, while conferring an almost incredible 
firmnesSf when the small proportion of solid matter 
is c^DsidAred, there is a further provision, for the 
preservatioi^ of the apple at least, through that 
exudation, too often carelessly removed, which, by 
Cormiog a varnish, excludes one of the most active 
causes of destruction. The strength and compact- 
ness of the veiry thin, yet secure epidermis by which 
these fruits are protected, ought also not to pass 

The cherry and the peach are examples under that 
class of fruits which botany terms a Drupa. Here, the 
superfluity is very strikipg, because the seed is com- 
pletely protected by the stone. * For all purposes to 
this essential part, every drupa might have been a fil- 
bert, or at least a walnut, where the external covering 
is not a fruit. And here also we must admire that 
cellular structure through which the purposes already 
named are accomplished : while in the peach in par- 
ticular, the firmness is exceedingly remarkable^ when 
the actual quantity of fluid in the total bulk is con- 
sidered. Ai^d it must not be forgotten that in every 
one of these instances, this often apparently impossible 
problem has been solved for purposes of utility : if 
alfio variously solved, as if to evince resource. A 
fluid was the thing to be produced ; but that was to 
be rendered transportable and durable : and by means 
that almost appear m«gical> it has been made to as- 
sume the form of a hard and resisting solid. 

The gener^ principle of all the fruits which seem 
intended for gratification, is chemically simple and 
uniform. As far as mere taste is concerned, it consists 
in all, fundamentally, of a mixture of sugar and acid, 
differently proportioned, and more or less diluted. 
The orange alone will, at different stages of ripeness, 
illustrate these differences ; as the red currant and 
the greengage plumb are, in our own fruits, examples 
of the opposed extremes. Speaking however with 
chemical rigidity, the sugar is not always that of the 
sugar-cane : in the fig and the date for example, it 
approaches in quality to manna. The acid portion 
appears to comprise many more acids than chemistry 
has yet ascertained : but it is familiar with at least 
the malic, oxalic, citric, and tartaric ; while, as far as 
our experience goes, the two last appear to be the 
most general. The mucilage, constituting the only 
other general principle, seems only to modify the 
taste of these compounds j or, like water, may be 
considered as a diluent, otherwise at least than as it 
ir, a nutritive substance. 

In the fig, this forms a very large ingredient : if it 
abounds in some grapes, it is nearly wanting in others, 
aud in the orange the quantity is still more minute. 
This then is all : sugar, acid, mucilage, or jelly, and 
water: and as these variously prevail, we have all 
the range in quality in fruits from the thin acid cur- 
rant, to that beautiful proportion which constitutes 
the grape, to the powerful mixture of sugar and acid 
in the pine-apple, and the almost total absence of the 
latter in the fig. 

Even thus far we might fairly suppose an intention 
of beneficence, in the varieties of taste thus produced : 
as all the useful qualities might have existed under 
one variety, just as the nutritious properties might 
have excluded, not only variety, but taste itself. This, 
however, is far from all that has been done for our 
pleasure ; since there yet remains to be noticed that 
most mysterious compound, or set of substances, 
forming the principle of flavour, of which chemistry 
can give no account ; transcending as they do, and 
perhaps ever will, our power of analysis. Be they 
what they may, they have been ordained and provided ; 
while their relations to the sense of taste, so as to 
produce pleasurable impressions, must be arbitrary, 
or solely dependent on the intention and command of 
the Creator. 

We are not indeed sure that the whole of these pe- 
culiar provisions have been made for man alone. It 
would be indifferent as to the present argument, 
though other animals partook with us of these enjoy- 
ments } but the indifference and distaste which they 
show to the flavours and odours which we enjoy, with 
their frequent attachment to those which are disagree* 
able to us, point out, in those cases at least, that the 
beneficent appointment has been especially intended 
for man. 

And it is through the principle of flavour that there 
has been produced a far greater range of variety in 
fruits, than any modification of their fundamental ele- 
ments could have effected ; while it is through this also 
that all that delicacy of quality which attracts us 
most in these productions, has been conferred. No 
power but the Highest could have created what it 
passes human imagination to conceive, as well as 
human knowledge to assign ; and no wisdom but His 
could, through the addition of imponderable, insepa- 
rable, unintelligible, have wrought out such a variety 
of ends. Deprive the finest fruits of their flavour 
and they are nothing : sweet, sour, and mucilaginous. 
Such is often the result of our imperfect climate; 
and thus, even the peach falls beneath the apple. 
Without this, the cheremoya and the . mangosteen 
would be nothing : as the pineapple might almost be 
represented by a mixture of our own making. 

And has not all this superfluity, so varied, so con- 
stant, so delicate, so difficult to understand, been ap- 
pointed for us and for our pleasures ? Has it not 
been appointed by Him, the powerful as the benefi- 
cent, when it is all the result of organizations so 
minute and abstruse, and of chemical actions so 
obscure and so wonderful, that all equally eludes our 
faculties and confounds our reasonings ? Chance, it 
is not 'y and it is not necessity : for all other animals 
it is purposeless : it is a source of enjoyment to us : 
and whence then again are the pleasures which we do 
enjoy, if God has not given them, if He did not thus 
provide for our happiness? Yes, even in things so 
minute and so low as this, which we must not shun 
to think of, from false or affected views of Him, to 
whom man, altogether, is as the gnat of a day's life, 
equally under His care and protection, lest it should 
lack its food and its happiness, and fail in its genera- 
tions. Between Him, the infinite, and all beneath, 
all distances are alike : he watches indeed over the 
eternal welfare of man ; but He also feeds the raven, 
and protects the sparrow. He has told us so : it is 
not impiety which strives to view him in everything : 
it is not piety nor religion that would exclude Him 
from any thing. 

I must here notice the grape, as a special object of 
interest to man, and to him exclusively. How often 
it is alluded to in the writings of Divine origin, as 
being no less a gift to him than the most essential 




articlea of fbod, T Ticed not say. But all the world 
hoa known from all timea, that iti familiar prodnce it 
aa uGcfnl, at the initiactive desire for it is ouiTCraal, 
nader the inducement of immediate enjoyment. Like 
all else, indeed, it is liable to abuse, with consequent 
evil J but a sound philosophy can assign ample rea 
sons for its utility j as a rational etndy of the consti' 
tntion of the human mind, and of the conditions of 
the mental powers and the feelings, under the casual- 
ties of life, can no less defend and explain its moral 
value, independently of the mere enjoyment resulting 
from its nse. And if the grape seems to have been 
peculiarly contrived for a purpose leas easily attainable 
than otherwise, through a constitution not less re- 
markable than the wide diffusion of the plant and the 
abundance of its produce, while, further, so declaring 
its own uses, that man could scarcely have known it 
without discovering that it was ready to prodnce wine, 
it is not possible to doubt that it was appointed and 
destined for him to whom alone it is useful, or even 
acceptable ; and that it really is what we have been 
s88nred,oneof the especially beneficent gifts of a boun- 
tiful Creator. 

If more could be necessary towards establishing 
the peculiar care of God for the human race in the 
invention of fruits, the following general fact must 
aet the question entirely at rest. That the means of 
procuring enjoyment have been very generally ren- 
dered dependent on man's own industry, and on that 
accumulation of knowledge through his races, which 
is the result of successive and continuous industry, 
has been often shown. And when he thns produces 
any specific source of enjoyment, we most believe that 
it was designed, because the general result was in- 
tended. The laws of nature, as they are termed, 
have, to a certain degree, been left at his disposal : he 
is allowed to change the ordinary course of creation 
for his own profit. Had that not been permitted, or 
rather intended, it could not have been : and we are 
assured that it has, when the consequences, forming 
man's stimulus, are the reward of his exertions. 
And if, in any case, we find that latent provisions have 
been made for the production of what would still 
never have occurred but through his assistance, much 
more must we believe that the intention was for him, 
even under a double design of beneficence ; since the 
needful exertions were essential, equally, to his phy- 
sical welfare and his moral improvement. 

Thb chanses vhich the art of the florist induces, in pro- 
ducing double and variegBted flowers, are not to be com- 
pared with the efiecls of cultivation on those fruits and 
esculent vegetables which have been for aees under the 
care, and as it were the peculiar piopertv, of man. In a 
wild state, indeed, they are hardly to be found at all; or i/* 
found, hardly recognisable. From an insigniflcant and 
aoid f^uit, or rather a mere berry, (for the fruit of the wild 
crab is nothing more,) have been produced, it is supposed, 
all our large and delicious varieties of apples ; the colewort, 
a plant whose scanty leaves weigh not more than half an 
ounce, is said to be the original of the cabbage; the potato 
was hut a small bitter root, growing wild in the regions of 
Chili. What encouragement do not these facts aerord to 
the cultivator nho seeks to reclaim other vegetables to the 
use and dominion of man ? and if he is, as he has been said 
to be, a benefactor to his race, who makes two blades of 
mssgniwin theplaceotone.isnot he one also, who gives 
ihem a new fruit, or teaches them the use of a new plant ? 

It is a pleasing task to register the actions of those men who 
are xoalous in the pursuit of science, and who derive their 
chief gratification from the virtuous pleasure they aObrd 
others. They should ever be held up aa models fur the iti- 
mulusof future generations.— •MAuifo. 


The inreatioD of the pump is to diatinct in principle 
from any other description of machines for raising 
water, and so superior aa an effort of science, that 
we must naturally conclnde it was the latest inveation 
for the purpoafe for which it is intended. Nothing 
resembling the pump has been found among any of 
the nations of the New World ; it was unknown to 
the Romans, even in the rudest form, until the latter 
end of their empire; the ancient Egyptiana were 
unacquainted with it, and even the Chinese have no 
invention resembtiog it. The inventor is said to be 
Ctesibius, a celebrated mathematician of Alexandria, 
about 120 years before Christ. From this invention, 
the principle of which was of the same nature aa 
that of our present pump, all our modem improve- 
ments have to date their origin. Even at the preaent 
day, the pnmp ia rarely met with in any portion of 

The action of this hydraoUc machine depends 
principally on the effects of the pressure of tlie 
atmospheric air. Suppose fig. 1 to be a tnbe bent 
up at the lower end, and more than thirty 
feet in length ; if this tube ia filled with '<l^ ■• 

water, and the opening at the top aecnrely 
closed, although the bent end is open, a 
column of water will atill remain in the 
tube, thirty-three feet in height above the 
level of the open mouth of the tube ; but 
if the upper end is opened, the whole of 
the liquid will run out, excepting ao 
much as will fill the bent portion of the 
tube, as shown by the dotted line. 

There are but two sorts of pumps which 

essentially differ, and all the varieties we 
see are only modifications of these; the one ia uanally 
called a foreing'pvmp, and has a solid plunger or 
piaton; and the aecoad kind a, ne\ing-p%mp, in which 
the piaton has an opening fitted with a valve. 

Fig. 2 ia a aection of a forcing-pump of the simplest 
conatmctiou. n is the reservoir of water from which the 
supply is drawn; the solid piaton a. being first forced 
down to the bottom of the tube 
in which it worka air-tight, is Tif.a. 

drawn upwards, the pressure of 
the air on the water in the well 
catues it to rise in the tube, foU 
lowing the upward course of the 
piston; aa aoon as the piston 
has completed its upward stroke, 
it is forced downwards: this 
cauaea the valve at B to close, 
and prevent the return of the 
water, which, having no other 
means of escape, is forced up- 
wards along the pipe C, and dis- 
charged at any opening that may 
be left for the purpose, in the 
course of its length : the piston is ' 
again drawn up, the valve opens, and the water 
follows, and is again by its downward pressure driven 
up the pipe c 

Fig. 3 ahows the principle of the lifting-pump, a 
ia the piston whiiiJi is perforated and furnished with 
a valve, (see fig. 4,) which ia a section of a common 
piston. A representa the hole through ita aubatance, 
and B is a valve opeiting npwarda ; the water in tliia 
ease mxist be sufficiently high to cover the piston 
when it is at the lower end of the tube. If the piston 
is now drawn up, it will carry upwards all the water 
that is above it, and Uie water from below will aUo 



follow it. being presBed Tipwsrdi bjr the weight of 
the atmosphere. Oq the retom of the piaton dowo- 
waids, the wster which ii between it and the valve b, 
fig. 3, will be onabte to retoni to the weU, on accouot 


of the dosing of that valve ; the piston will easily move 
downwards tiirongh the water, the valve with which 
h is foroiahed opening npwarda : thoe at each strolce 
the water above it will have accnnralated, and at each 
upward movement it has to lift a greater quantity, 
and this goes on increaaing nntil it is above the level 
of the opening at c, through which it will then mn. 

Having thus explained the principle on which the 
two kinds of pumps are constructed, we shall illos- 
trate the subject by a description of several pumps 
of different constructions. The following conatmction 
of the forcing-pump illnatrates the principle on which 
the pumps attached to fire-engines are made. In 
fig. 5 the pump is supposed to be formed of glass, to 
show its internal construction, a is the solid piston 
moving in the cylinder of 
the pump, and made air- 
tight. B IS a valve opening 
upwards, and placed at 
» the end of the pipe which 
leads to the water in the 
well; the pipe c o^ns 
into the space which sur- 
rounds the upper portion 
of the pipe, on the top of 
which the valve n is placed. 
The water, as in the com. 
mon forcing-pump, is d riven 
along this pipe, and farced 
into the vessel o ; a small 
i pipe r is introduced into 
^ this vessel, and reaches to 
= within a short distance of 
bottom : as soon as 
the water which enters 
tUa vessd is above the level of the lower part of the 
pipe K, the air which a contained, wliich in the first 
instance was expelled through that pipe, will now 
become compressed ia the upper part of the vessel, 
and thus act like a powerful spring, sustaining the 
jet of water between each stroke of the piston. 

Tig. 6 represents a very ingenious pump, in which 
the piaton acta in a double capacity, as a forcing and 
as a sucking piston. The four pipes, A b c d, all 
communicate with the large cylinder, and are each 
fomiahed at their upper extremity with a valve 
opening upwards ; the piston of this pnmp is solid, 
and is not allowed to be raised higher than k, or de- 
preaaed lower than f in the lai^ cylinder. When' 
the piston is forced downwards, the water with which 
we are to suppose the lower part of the cyUnder was 
filled during its last ascent, ia forced up the pipe a, 
and ultimately out at the spout 6. During its last 

ascent it had forced the air in the upper part of the 

cylinder through the pipe b, and the valve at the 

top of this pipe falling down, would prevent its 

return during the descent of 

the piston. The consequence 

would ' be that a vacuum would 

be formed above the piston, and 

the atmospheric pressure would 

force the water up the pipe C 

into the unoccupied space. At 

ita next return tiie piston would 

force out the water in the same 

manner aa it did the air in the 

first instance, and in its next 

descent again produce a va- 

cunaa, thus acting at the same 

time as a forcing and saclung 

pump. When the supply of 

water ha become aoffideot to 

allow it toaccomiilate above the 

internal opening of the apont o, 

the air in the vessel h would 

become compressed, and act in 

the same manner as the con^ 

densed air noticed in the account of the last engine 


Divisions of Time. (Concludtd.) 
Ahomq flie nations in which astronomy waa first 
cultivated, waa Chaldea, and it is natural to suppose 
that the first division of the day into houra waa 
adopted by that people ; for it would obviously be 
difficult to compare the times of the appearance of 
the heavenly bodies with so large an unit of time aa 
five or six hours. The first division waa into twelve 
hours, but that waa afterwards replaced by a division 
into twenty-four hoars. They began their day at 
annrise, and reckoned on twenty-four hours to the 
next annrise : in fact, according to our mode of 
naming the houra, we should say that their day com- 
menced an hour before snurise, because the hour of 
sunrise waa reckoned one. It is probable, however, 
that, instead of employing the numbers to denote the 
divisions between these twenty-four periods, they ap- 
pUed them to the periods themselves, calling them 
"the firat hour," "the second hour," and so on : in 
this sense, the notation would begin and end at the 
moment of sunrise. 

The Egyptiana computed their hours in a manner 
somewhat similar to our own ; that is, they began 
the day at midnight ; bnt here the similarity ends, 
for, instead of reckoning twice twelve hours, they 
went through the whole twenty-four, like the Chal- 
deans and Babylonians. The first mention of Aowa 
in the Bible occurs in Daniel iii. 6 ; and v. S ; in 
these cases, however, the word Ime or nwmeitl would 
convey the same meaning as the word hour; but, aa 
the Jews obtained their notions of the division of 
the day into hours from the Chaldeans, when they 
were carried into captivity to Baliylon, and as Daniel 
lived at tliat period, b.c. 570, it is probable that the 
sentences jnst alluded to really related to hows. 

The Jews, however, deviated from the plan adopted 
by their iostroctors, inasmuch as they began their 
day at sunset, instead of sunrise, and reckoned two 
series of twelve hours each, instead of one scries of 
twenty-four hours. These two series extended, one 
from sunset to sunrise, and the other from sunrise to 
sanset } and, aa each period was divided into twelve 



[Februaet 0; 

equal parts, it neoeasarily followed that the night- 
hours were longer than the day- hours in Winter, and 
shorter in Summer^ in consequence of the difference 
in the hour of sunrise : the word hour, therefore, had 
not the same definite meaning with them as it has 
now with us. The night was divided by the Jews, 
before their country became subject to the Romans, 
into three watches, — called in Latin " Vigilice,"— con- 
sisting of four night- hours each. These Vigiliae were 
afterwards increased, under the Romans, to/ottr, viz.. 
Even, Midnight, Cock- crowing, and Morning. 

In the Earlier ages of Greece, it does not appear 
that hours were known ; for Homer speaks of Morn- 
ing, Evening, and Midday, in a manner analogous to 
that of David. Hippocrates is said to have brought 
the horary division of the day into practice in Greece, 
from having observed it in Egypt. There seems rea- 
son to believe that many of those nations which had 
no communication with the Chaldeans, reckoned the 
progress of time by Nights ; for Tacitus speaks of 
that mode of computation, as having been in vogue 
among the ancient Germans. The same remark was 
made by Caesar, with respect to the ancient Gauls ; 
and it is known at the present day that some of the 
nations of central and southern Africa, the Mashoos, 
for example, reckon time by the lapse of nights. 
Indeed our own household words, "se'nnight" and 
'' fortnight," seem to be surviving proofs that a prac- 
tice somewhat similar was once prevalent in Britain. 

Confusion is sometimes created by applying the 
term "day" both to the whole twenty-four hours, and 
to that portion of them during which the sun is above 
the horizon -, it has therefore been proposed to use 
the word ** Nycthemcron " for the former, — thereby 
confining the term day to the latter. Nycthemeron 
implies day and night together. 

The origin of the names of the days of the week is 
a curious sample of the influence which Astrology 
exerted over the minds of the *' ruling powers " of 
those days. The seven primary planets (for then they 
were all called planets) Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sun, 
Venus, Mercury, and the Moon, were believed to take 
it in turn to preside over the aflairs of the world, 
each one ruling for one hour, and then giving way 
to the next. The day was named after the planet 
who happened to be in the ascendant at the first 
hour of that day. Thus Saturn was said to be the 
ruling planet at the first hour of the Jewish sabbath -, 
the sabbath was therefore named, after him. Dies 
Saturni, or the day of Saturn. The eighth, fifteenth, 
and twenty-second hours of that day, would hkewise 
come under the dominion of Saturn; the twenty- 
third under Jupiter, the twenty-fourth under Mars, 
and the first hour of the following day under the 
Sun, — from which arose Sun- day, or Dies Solis, 
Proceeding in a similar manner, we find that the 
seven days, reckoning from Saturday, came in the 
following order : — Saturn's day. Sun's day. Moon's 
day. Mars' day. Mercury's day, Jupiter's day, and 
Venus' day } and from these titles the Latin names of 
the week were derived. The English names are well 
known to be derived from those of some old Saxon 

In many uncivilized countries at the present day, 
the computation of time by moons, or months, is 
adopted. But this only relates to large portions of 
time J for smaller portions may obviously be more 
conveniently computed by the arrival of the sun at 
the meridian, or the natural day. 

llie Jewish month was lunar, and calculated from 
the first appearance of the moon, on which the ''feast 
of the New Moon " was celebrated. Tliis was the 
beginning of the month. It was proclaimed h/ the 

aonnd of trumpets, and many additional sacrifices 
were offered : — Whence the Psalmist says, '^ Blow up 
the trumpets in the new-moon, in the time appointed, 
on our solemn feast day." Psalm Lxxxi. 3. 

There is no particular reason why a division of the 
day into twenty-four hours should be preferred to 
any other: twenty or thirty -six, for instance, would 
be quite as well; but twenty-four having beea 
chosen, other nations gradually adopted the same 
number, although they may vary in their modes of 
computing those hours. It was, however, obviously 
necessary to devise the means for measuring them 
equally. Varied both in principle and in details, 
have been the means invented for this purpose. 
The sun-dial, the clepsydra, or water-clock, the hour- 
glass, and wheel-clocks and watches, have been the ' 
chief contrivances : in some countries burning can- 
dles or torches' have been employed for this purpose. 
Thus, in the age of our Alfred the Great, time was 
measured by the burning of candles : — and again, 
Beckmann, on the authority of an Arabian traveller, 
cited by Renaudot, states that in China, in the ninth 
century, a person appointed for the purpose, used to 
strike a board suspended from a string, as a signal 
of the lapse of each successive hour. Thunberg saji 
that in Japan they burn matches made of plaited 
rope, with knots tied on it at certain intervals. When 
the match burns to a knot, a watchman strikes a 
given number of blows on a bell, in one of the tern*. 
pies by day, and goes about at night and strikes two 
boards together a certain number of times, to indicate 
the hour of the night : but how the hours were com- 
puted in the first instance, we are not informed. 

Before we proceed to describe the three time-mea« 
suring instruments, universally used before clacks 
and watches, we will say a few words respecting an 
ancient building which seems to have been intended 
expressly for a horologium, or general indicator of 
time. This is the tower of Cyrrhestes Andronicus, 
an astronomer of Athens, which is known in the 
present day as the ** Tower of the Winds." It is 
described by Vitruvius, an architect in the reign of 
An^stus Ca&sar, who has left a work on architecture ; 
and from a most minute examination of it by Messrs. 
Stuart and Revett, some years ago, it is evident that 
the greater part of it answers the description given- 
by Vitruvius. 

It is an octagonal tower of marble, originally abon'fe 
fifty feet high, which was surmounted by a brazeiB- 
Triton, (no longer to be seen,) holding a wand in hvB 
right hand. This Triton acted as a weathercock, 
and turned on an axis by the moving power of the 
wind ; pointing with his wand to the quarter whene0 
the wind blew. To indicate what part of the conir 
pass that might be, a figure was sculptured in bas' 
relief, on a frieze, on each of the eight sides of the 
tower ; which figure was emblematical of the kind o^ 
weather which generally prevailed during the con.^ 
tinuance of that wind at Athens. The eight windfi* 
and their emblematical representatives, were as foL^ 
low : — 

South, usually sultry and wet : — A young man emptyirt & 
a jar of water. 

North, cold and stormy : — An old man warmly cla ^^ 
and holding a conch, the mimic roar of which is often sins- ^ 
lar to that of a howling wind. 

East, gentle, fruitful rain : — A young man with frus ' 
and honey. 

N. £a8T, cloudy, wet, and cold : — An old man with 
kind of shield. 

S. £ast, sultry and gloomy : — An old man in glooi 

S. West, blows from sea : — A robust man bearing pa: 
of a ship from the sea ; it boing an unfavourable time f( 
sailing from the Athenian port. 




West, wtrm and fruitful :— A young man lightly clad. 
N. West, drying and blighting windi: — A young man, 
M'ith a brasen fire-pot, strewing ashea and coals. 

The names of the winds are written in Greek over 
the bas-reliefs; but the accompanying explanations 
are given by modem writers, the real meaning of 
some of the figures being matter of conjecture. 

Under these bas-reliefs are eight sun-dials, all ver- 
tical in position, but different in their construction, 
according to the side on which they are placed. 
Delambre, the eminent French mathematician, has 
determined the construction of these dials to be 
rigorously correct, and to evince a complete know- 
ledge of the principles of construction. 

In the pavement of this tower have been observed 
channels cut, as if for the flow of water ; and it has 
been conjectured, with much probability, that these 
channels were either for the supply of water to a 
clepsydra, or for carrying off the water from one : 
the cJepsydra being for the indication of time at those 
hours and seasons, when the sun-dials were not avail- 
able. Thus, this tower was in various ways available 
for showing the points of the compass, the direction of 
the wind, the hour of the day, (and most probably 
the seasons of the year,) by sun-dials, as likewise the 
hour by a clepsydra. It is all strongly indicative of 
the ingenuity of the ancient Athenians. 

Its use at the present day is mournfully different 
from that of which we have just been speaking. The 
editor of the splendid work on Athens, by Stuart and 
Revett, to which we are indebted for these latter 
details, says, " This tower is now a Turkish chapel, 
called Teckeh, in which the Dervishes perform a 
religious ceremony. The Dance of the Dervishes, 
the offspring of a humiliating superstition, has been 
assimilated to the dances of the Cory ban tes, and 
the Salii. Osmanlees of all classes occasionally 
join in it, with the Mewlemi Dervishes. They pre- 
tend that during the stupor produced by its revolu- 
tion, they enjoy an abstraction in the contemplation 
of the Divinity not always otherwise possessed. It is 
commenced by the officiators sitting on the ground 
in a circle, who to the sound of drums and ruAer 
tambours, begin to groan and yell the words, '' Alia ! 
La ilia ill Alia,"—" God ! there is no other God but 
God." At the same time rocking their bodies to the 
time of the harsh discord. Soon they rise, and hand 
in hand commence their frantic dance : the howls 
increase, when suddenly one, as if possessed, breaks 
from the rest, and, with extended arms, begins to 
revolve with a sickening celerity, and is soon followed 
by his comrades. The horrid din increases, till at 
leogth the performers are compelled by exhaustion 
to relinquish their religious pastime, leaving on the 
minds of the astonished Frank spectators the impres- 
sion of one of the most abject forms of artificial human 
degradation." Stuart's and Rkvktt's Athens. 

Having thus briefly alluded to the circumstanced 
which led to the division of the day into hours, we 
shall continue the subjett by treating separately of 
the San-dial, the Clepsydra, and the Hour-glass. 


DaoFPEO by the squirrel or the bird, 

Perchaiice the nut, from whence its birth, 
Was by the rabbit's foot interred 

Within the soft, mout forest earth* 
Urged by its secret principle, 
It burst from out its perished sheU, 

To seek the light and air ; 
And by the nibbling fawn unseen, 
Its downy twin-leaved stem grew gv^eenj 

And rose a sapling there. - 

Its roots stretehed ant, its branehes spread, 

Thickened its trunk, until on high, 
Covered with leaves, its lofty head • 

Made fret-work of its spot of sky. 
A wand the robin bent, now stood 
The giant monarch of the wood, 

Where stooped tlie eagle's flight; 
Once trembling at the slightest breath, 
It now scarce deigned to stir beneath 

The tempest's fiercest might 

The deer amid its oool green gloom, 

Sought refuge from the noon-tide heat, 
And sounding in its leafy dome. 

The thresher's warbled notes were sweet. 
The sunbeams scarce could find their way 
Tiirough its thick screen, their spots to lay 

Upon the roots below, 
Tliat wreathed deep, mossy nooks, where led 
The quail her brood, wlien winter spread 

His chilling robes of snow. 

And nature's jewels, radiant things. 

Loved the green sylvan place ; the bee 
Turning to harps its quivering wings. 

With arrowy straightness sought the treo. 
Floated the yellow butterfly, 
A wandering dot of sunshine, by, 

And nestling *mid its moss. 
The sky-tinged violet's fairy cup 
Its draught of fragrance offered up 

To airs that stole across. 

Its branches formed the panther^s lair, 

When waiting for his deadly leap 
And in its hollowed trunk the bear 

Coiled his black form in torpid sleep. 
Ages of Springs renewed its crown. 
Ages of Autumns cost it down, 

Till heaps on heaps were strewn ^ 
Lichens crept up its furrowed side. 
Its very race of eagles died, 

But still it flourished on. 

But its time came : its figure dropped. 

Leaves came no more in vernal days, 
And threads of pale green moss were looped 

Around its dry and shrunken sprays. 
It stood a spectre, gaunt and bore,' 
Reaching a shrivelled arm in air, 

To court the lightning's dart. 
Until the tempest stooped, and cast 
Its red sulphureous bolt at last, 

And scorched it to the heart. 

Then as the gust came whirling round, 

It shook from root to pinnacle. 
And headlong to the cclioing ground. 

It hurtling, ci-ashing, thundering fell { 
Melting away, the fractured tnmk 
To a green moss-mound slowly sunk, 

Until the soil crept o'er. 
And, by its solemn mystery. 
Took to itself the stately tree. 

Which once it proudly bore. 

Alfbed B. St&eet. 

THE BUSTARD, {Oiif tardus.) 

TfiE Bustard is one of those birds \?hich appear, in 
iBlurOpe, to supply the place occupied by the ostrich 
and its congeners in Asia, Africa, and South America. 
It belongs to the tribe of running birds. All the species 
of the bustard are heavy birds, and usually slow in 
their flight ; but they can run on the ground with 
great swiftness, and they are never known to perch. 
The male of the common bustard, of which we are 
about to speak, is about three feet in length from 
the tip of the beak to the tail, and the dimensions 
of the female are one-third less. 

The male bustard is one of our largest land birds, 
and Nature has provided it with a very curfous ap- 
pendage, the use of which is uncertain. This sin- 
gular apparatus is a kind of bag or pocket, which is 
placed- beneath the skin at the upper part of the 



[FiBfttJAKT 9, 183! 

neck. Tile opening to this cariona reiervoir is nailer 
the tongue, tad it is Urge enough to hold Mventl 
pints of water ; as the bi^ frequents dry and aandj 
plains vhere water is not to be met with, it is pro- 
bable that this contrivance is intended to snpply 
him with that wholesome liquid. According to Be- 
wick, the water is also applied to another purpose ; 
namely, to defend its owner against the attacks of 
birds of prey, over whom he ejects it with great 
violence. Montague, on the other hand, considers it 
intended to supply the female with water when sitting, 
and the young, after they are excluded from the egg; 
the female ia unprovided with this water-bi^. Bus- 
tards are found in some parts of France, in Italy, 
Germany, and, althongb very rarely at present, in 

Tbe food of the bustard appears to be usually 
different kinds of grain, but they also devour greedily 
mice, frogs, and lizards ; and if wc may believe a 
French author, they are as fond of pieces of metal 
as the ostrich. They lay their eggs in the month of 
May in a hole in the earth, generally in a field of 
corn. The number of eggs is believed to be osoally two 
or three, and the time occupied in hatching them 
is about thirty daysj they are about the size of 
those of a goose, of an olive-brown, with spots of 
the same colour, but darker. It is said that the 
female will desert her eggs if they are touched. The 
young, when they leave the e^, are covered with a 
white down. In some parts of the Continent the 
young are sometimes taken alive, and kept in confine- 
ment. They are then fed, in the first instance, with 
rye bread, mixed up with the yolk of an egg, after- 
wards with rye bread chopped up with bnllocks' liver. 
The bustard is now so little known in this country, 
that it may almost be considered as extinct. It is 

sometimes found, thongh very rarely, on Saltsbnr 
Flain, and on the coast of Norfolk. According to th 
Treach Dicliomtaire<ktScienceiNatitrelle§,tbet>iutiudt 
which are considered to be birds of p 

Arrive about the beeinniag of December, and i 
only until the mouth of March, when tbey have to p 
further aotrh ; oisembling in imoU group*, and soni 
in large companies, amounting even to thirty or fortyj they 
betake themselves to the vast plains of Champagne, Poitw^ 
Scc.i but during severe winters, andwhensnovig abundsot, 
they are generally distributed over the country, and keep 
more to the south. They prefer those spots which m 
remote from any habitation, and sufficiently elevated to 
enable them to discover the approach of danger when it 
some distance. They are usually hunted with tlogs and 
hones, and the best time ii supposed to be during a frost. 

Before they are able to fly, they are obliged to rua 
a considerable distance with the wings extended. Aa 
there is considerable difHculty in getting near them 
several stratagems have been resorted to, to obtkin 
that end, such as approaching them disguised in the 
skin of a cow, or under a moving covering of wood 
resembling a shepherd's hut. One circumstance in 
favour of discovering these birds is their habit »] 
seldom wandering far from their nsual place of resort 

The bustards, particularly the young, are highl3 
ptized as an article of food, and their feathers 
like those of the goose and swan, are used foi 
pens. Some attempts have been made to domes 
ticate the bustard, but the small number of theL- 
eggi seems to have rendered the task nnprofit^ 
able. Pallas says, in bis Travels to the South » 
Russia, that " the domesticated bustards in th. 
Crimea have never laid ;" and Montague, in the sujv 
plement to his Ornithological Dietionary, says tha 
" they never conld be kept alive in confinement mor- 
than two or three jrears." 

LOaOOlX: Published by JOHN. WILLIAU PABKER, WniSriuiiDi tad sold brail Boobellcrs. 

Sa^turira^^ M^um^^* 




Tu mds li probably aware of the existence in 
Irdnd of ft anmber of ancient boildings, which, 
&W ttrir form, hare been called Round Toieert, 
Tkiicri g in it altogether a matter of conjecture j and 
ihee aoAln4[ certain ia known on the subject, 
luoooa HktotieB have been advanced, and keenly 
omiMted bjr and among antiquaries. Our object in 
I'm ptnent article is to offer a few brief particulars, 
rnpccting these remarkable records of the ingenuity 
of * rude and nncivilized people, 

bathing in the history of masonry is more in- 
■Inictive than the duration of these Irish Round 
Toner*. They will serve to illustrate an excellent 
practice adopted by Mr. Telford, which we shall pre- 
Kstly notice ; they also affurd an early iostance of' 
ibc pnctice of erecting lofty buildings from within. 
Vol. XrV, 

thereby avoiding the expense of scafi'olding, as baa 
recently been practised, with decided economy, in 
constructing steam-engine chimneys. 

The height of an Irish Round Tower sometimea 
exceeds 100 feet; their average height may be taken 
at ninety feet. Their outward circumference is about 
forty-five feet at the base, where the thickness of the 
wall is from three to four feet, lessening upwards in 
a due degree to the summit. The expense of such an 
edifice (if now built) would not exceed 3001. or 400/. 

About 120 of these towers are known to have ex- 
isted in Ireland, and ninety of them still remain in 
various stages of decay, with the exception of a few 
which are still perfect, to the very coping-stone of 
the roof. Some of these slender edifices have with- 
stood the wind and the rain, and casual injury, during 
- ■ - ' Aa«, 



[February 16^ 

1000 years I for/ although the too-freqaent exagge- 
ration of Irish antiquaries and historians has created 
very general credulity, and, consequently^ inattention 
to what is really true of the western island, and of 
its comparative civilization at an early date, it is 
highly probable that these towers were built in the 
course of the 500 years preceding the Norman con- 
quest of England 3 that they were Christian edifices, 
and in reality the bell-towers of ancient churches, is 
proved by their constant connexion with ruined 
churches and ancient burial grounds in Ireland, and, 
indeed, the Tower of Donoughmore exhibits a rude 
sculpture of our Saviour on the cross over its door- 
way entrance. In Scotland, which received Christia- 
nity from Ireland, the church of Brechin affords 
example of a Round Tower annexed to the south 
transept, and now entered from it. Over the original 
entrance of this tower, which was closed with masonry 
when the church was built, and another door-way 
made, is sculptured, in rude relief, the Virgin Mother 
and her Babe. 

The origin of these towers is from the Greek 
Churchy and the Turkish disciples of Mohammed 
adopted them under the name of minarets, as con- 
venient for the same purpose of summoning the 
faithful to prayer, substituting merely the well- 
trained voice of the MoUah for a small bell, not per- 
mitted by their religion. In the decline of the Con- 
stantinopolitan empire, and long before the Turcoman 
invaders approached the capital, civilized occupations 
fled before them, and Greek architects were employed 
to adorn Italy with the magnificent churches and 
bell-towers of the middle ages. St., Mark's at 
Venice, and its adjacent campanile, are perhaps some 
of the earliest productions of the Greek fugitives, 
who afterwards, in the confidence of their art, not 
only built Round Towers in Italy, but even built some 
of them purposely out of the perpendicular, thus 
striking the mind of the beholder with an incon- 
gruous sensatibn of the known fact, of their long 
duration, and the appearance of immediate downfall. 

There is no difiiculty in supposing, that some of 
the emigrant Greeks were attracted by the fame of 
Ireland, then the learned and the pious, to settle 
there, and imitate, in a suitable manner, the parish 
churches of their native land in the East. Egypt, 
the most conspicuous member of the Greek church, 
was not likely to be deficient in religious edifices, 
and the most famous of her sainted hermits is dis- 
tinguished as Simon Stylites, from his ascetic resi- 
dence on the top of a pillar,—- in fact, a Round Tower 
connected with religious purposes. All things con- 
sidered, in a subject confessedly obscure, the best con- 
jecture will, perhaps, attribute the date of the Irish 
Round Towers, to the four or five centuries of which 
the reign of Charlemagne may be taken as the 
middle point. 

The duration of these slender towers is worthy the 
attention, not only of the antiquary, but much more 
of the architect. Tbe first element of superior dura- 
bility, is seen in the large solid basement, or sub- 
structure, which was alniost unavoidable from the 
position of the door-way at some distance from the 
ground j nor could the small diameter of the interior 
have admitted the entrance of timber spars for succes- 
sive ladders, unless thrust upwards from a surface 
lower than the door- way. Among the ninety towers, 
which, in various states of decay, are still extant in 
Ireland, there are probably various specimens of the 
builder's art; the generality consist of that kind of 
careful masonry, called Spauled Rubble-, in which 
small stones shaped by the hammer (in default of 
suitable stones at hand) arc placed in every interstice 

of the larger stones ) so that very little mortar is inter- 
mixed in the body of the wall, which is raised stage 
by stage of convenient height; the outside of spauled 
masonry especially presenting an almost uninterrupted 
surface of stone, supplementary splinters being cave- 
fully inserted in the joints of the undried wall. 

The seemingly rude coverings of these towers are 
perhaps the best, that is, the most durable, ever de- 
vised by human wit. The arch familiar to the Greeks 
of the lower empire, could not be introduced where 
lateral abutment was impossible, and timber support 
was out of the question, so that the overlapping of 
fiat stones consolidated by mortar into a hollow cone, 
was perhaps the only resource; and a few of these 
stone roofs still remain surmounted by their cap-stone. 
A civil engineer, connected with Mr. Telford's occa- 
sional missions to Ireland, has remarked, that the foar 
windows (or narrow loop-holes), of these towers near 
the summit, accord with the four points of the com- 
pass; but some of the towers have only two sucii 
windows; while others have more than four. 

We come now to notice the operations of Mr. 
Telford to which we before alluded. 

This distinguished engineer had seen evidence of the 
weakness of masonry supports, which in appearance 
promised the utmost durability. The fall of St. Chad's 
Church, Shrewsbury (1788), disclosed to him the 
structure of its pillars. These were of great diameter, 
but were mere shells of masonry filled up with dry 
rubbish; nor indeed is such dangerous fallacy con- 
fined to ancient edifices : the rubble backing of the 
piers of Westminster Bridge (finished in the year 
1745), scarcely supports itself whenever the surface 
of ashler-work is removed for occasional repairs. 
Mr. Telford led the way in preventing much of this 
kind of fraud in bridge-building, by substituting 
longitudinal walls under the road-way, instead of 
filling the space with earth or rubbish, a great im- 
provement which l^aa since been adopted by all 
engineers. And whenever masonry piers are of suffi- 
cient dimensions to admit of apertures large enough 
for the workman, and also admitting of an examina- 
tion of his work, security is thus obtained, far more 
valuable than the questionable superiority of a solid 
mass, in which the true bearing and connexion of 
every stone as in a bonded wall, is not of necessity 
brought to a test. 

I BRBAKFASTBD at the fort with Lieutenant Dal^etty, (sayi 
Holman, the blind traveller,)— part of which meal we wers 
nearly deprived of by a orow that flew in at the windov; 
but it was fortunately saved by the timely entrauce of ft 
servant. These birds are so audacious that all personi 
who desire to be secure from their marauding incursiooi 
must be very careful neither to leave doors nor windows 
open unwatched. When the natives are carrying home 
baskets of provisions on their heads, they are frequently 
attacked by a flock of these voracious birds, who pounce 
upon the contents; nor will they desist from the work of 
spoliation until the basket is set down, and they are literally 
driven from it by force of arms. The bold thieves plunder 
children still more mercilessly, actually snatching the food 
from their hands ; and it is amusing to witness the art they 
use to dispossess a dog of a bone. No sooner has the aai* 
mal laid liimself down to enjoy his meal at leisure, thaa s 
predatory covey descend and hover over him. One more 
daring than the rest then alights beside him with the most 
unwelcome familiarity. The dog, startled and annoy^p* 
suspends his labours, and growls out his displeasure, but i^ 
vain. The crow advances with the self-possession of ^^ 
invited guest ; until at last the exasperated owner of tl^^ 
price lets fall his bone, shows his teeth, and makes ^'^ 
indignant suap at the pertinacious intruder, who dexterou6>^^ 
eludes the bite which he has so cunningly provoked, whU^ 
at the instaut the dog's attention is diverted, another cro^^* 
who has been vigilantly watching the opportunity, seii*^^ 
the coveted treasure, and bears it oflf in triumph. 





HE following details respecting the nature and pro- 
erties of Gunpowder, which, for want of space, were 
mittcd in the last xnonth^a Supplement^ will be found 

Tiiere are some phenomena presented by the natural 
roduction of nitre, which we are unwilling to pass over 
ithout a slight notice, especially as they have been a 
ource of much surprise and speculation : we mean the 
rovrth and accumulation of nitre on walls that contain 
nuch lime, either in the stono with which they are built, or 
n the mortar used as a cement to the stones. Perhaps wo 
•annot better employ the short space which we can spare 
or this subject, than by giving a few details of experiments 
actually ])erformed to elucidate the phenomena. 

In 1814 Dr. Kidd, at that time Professor of Chemistry in 
ihe University of Oxford, read a paper before the Royal 
Society of London, on the accumulation of nitre on the 
walls of the laboratory of that university. He prefaced his 
remarks by a description of the building. The Ashmolean 
Museum of Oxford was built by Sir Christopher Wren, 
and is formed entirely of calcareous free-stone. The labo- 
ratory occupies the lowest story of the building. — its floor 
being nine feet below the level of the street. Three out of 
the four walls of the room are in contact with the external 
ground, but the fourth, or south side, is open to a court-yanl 
or area. The walls are three feet thick, and on that side 
farthest from the court-yard, nitre is constantly cfllorescing 
from the substance of the stone. Its general consistency is 
that of very fine grains or crystals, which, taken collectively, 
have the appearance of down. 

Dr. Kidd had frequently remarked its appearance, but in 
the winter of 1812 he began to notice it more regularly. 
He selected a particular spot, and brushed the whole of the 
efllorcscence carefully away. In throe days' time it again 
appeared ; but gradually diminished for eight days, without 
aoy adequate external cause for its disappearance. This 
occurred at the end of January, and no new deposit ap- 
peared until the 16th of March, when an abundant supply 
effloresced in two days. Dr. Kidd remarked that the wea- 
ther was frosty at the end of January, and at about the 16th 
of March, but milder between those periods — a circumstance 
vonhyof notice. It was again removed, and again re- 
CsriDed by the 4th of April— the latter part of the time 
^^ cold. The surface of the wall was then thoroughly 
'tnped, to give a new surface to the stone ; but in thirteen 
^ys, the nitre formed on the new surface attained a maxi- 
mum in quantity, and again diminished. A portion of the 
>all was wainscoted and then painted ; but the nitre pene- 
tnted through both wood and paint, and appeared at the 
fvfiure of tlie latter, which became loosened from the wood. 
On another spot a glass plate, about a foot square, was fixed 
larallel with the wall, at a distance of one-third of an inch 
^noi it, the edges being made air-tight by cement: the 
glass was then covered with a whitewash of prepared chalk 
uid distilled water ; but, although it was in the winter sea* 
lOQ, not a particle of nitre appeared on the outside for forty- 
one days tnat it was kept in that state. On removing the 
tm plate, the portion of wall behind it had a small quan- 
tity of nitre on it, but distinguished from any before seen 
^ being in much larger crystals. The shortest time in 
*luch nitre formed after being brushed olT, Dr. Kidd found 
^be iuur hours. The most general results appeared to be, 
^ the formation was more rapid in winter than in sum- 
mer, and that in summer light appeared to favour, but in 
^ter to retard, the formation. 

We may remark, that such of our readers as may have 

opportunities, would render service to science by making 

^rr&tions on these remarkable formations ; Nitre is re- 

\ ^nJok into oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, and potassium ; 

' ^ from what source the last substance can emanate is a 

^ter of much speculation and theory. 

A result which would be little expected by most persons, 
<^ been stated as having followed the pressure of a 
'itnrod against the charge in a gun-barrel at the moment 
2 fir.n^. The account is translated into the Journal of the 
^val Institution for 183), fh>m a foreign journal, and is in 
J«se words. *' At the sitting of the Helvetic Society of 
Natural Sciences, of the 28th S July last, a letter was read 
^ Dt. Flachin, of Yverdun, relating to an experiment 
be&ie nMntvmad to the society, in which the ball was pre- 

vented from leaving the bottom of the musquet when the 
^lunpo'.vder was fired, simply by putting the ramrod upon 
tlie ball, and the end of the finger upon the ramrod. He 
supposes that the effect may be explained by the circum- 
stance that near the charge the ball has a very small velocity 
compared to that impressed upon it by the expansive force 
of the gases from the fired gunpowder when exerted during 
the whole of the lime in whicli it is passing along the 
barrel. It is well known that the efiect thus accumulated 
is the reason why long pieces carry further than short ones, 
and why the breath of a man, which cannot exert a pres- 
sure of more than a quarter of an atmosphere, may, by 
means of a tube, throw a ball to the distance of sixty steps. 
The experiment above requires great care, especially as to 
the strength of the piece, which is very likely to be burst in 
the performance uf tho experiment.'* 

In order to prove the necessity for the actual contact of 
flame, in ordur to explode gunpowder, the following experi- 
ment has been devised, and often performed by the writer. 
Take a narrow cork, about one inch in diameter, and round 
its circumference fold loosely several turns of lamp-cotton : 
place this in a little dish, somewhat larger than the dia- 
meter of the cork and cotton, and pour some spirit into the 
dish. Then place on the centre ot the cork a conical heap 
of gunpowder — about a small thimble-full. Ignite the spirit 
in the dish, and the resulting fiame will also be conical, en* 
tircly surrounding the cork and gunpowder ; and the latter 
will be in no wise affected : it will remain for ten or fifteen 
minutes, provided there be suificieiit spirit to burn during 
that time, and the powder will not be ignited ; but if the 
ilame be blown on one side, so as to bring it in contact with 
the powder, the latter will ignite almost immediately. Now 
the reason of this is to be found in the fact that Ilame is 
hollow : it has been appropriately called a luminous bubble 
filled with infiammable ^as ; but the gas can only infiame 
on the outside where it is in contact with the oxygen of the 
atmosphere, which is indispensable in all the ordinary in- 
stances of combustion. 

There is also another experiment (familiar to the scien- 
tific lecturer) which shows the necessity of the presence of 
the air in order to explo<ie gunj)owdor. A piece of iron is 
made red-hot, and placed on a metal stand upon the table of 
an air-pump. This is covered with a glass receiver, in the 
top of which is inserted a convenient apparatus for allowing 
gunpowder to fall down upon the incandescent iron. The 
air is exhausted, and the powder, falling upon the iron, is 
simply burned with a blue waving fiame ; but no detonation 
whatever results. The writer has often performed this ex- 
periment, and another equally striking: — A gun-lock, 
cocked and charged with powder, is placed under the re- 
ceiver of an air-pump ; the air is removed, and the gun-lock 
fired, but no action takes place on the powder. But when 
the air is re-admitted, and the gun-lock re^ocked and fired, 
the explosion of the powder takes place in the usual 

The secret of rendering docile, and handling with impu- 
nity, the most venomous serpents, which has so long^ been 
in the possession of the natives of Western India, is not 
unknown in China. It is observed that the native snake- 
catchers here rub their hands, previous to taking hold of 
the snake, with an antidote, composed of pounded herbs. 
The virtue of the preparation is such that they hold with 
the naked hand, and provoke fearlessly, the deadly cobra 
di capello, or spectacle viper, which, next to the rattlesnake, 
is perhaps one of the most dangerous reptiles in existence. 
This serpent, in common with others of a similar nature, is 
not unfrequently met with in Canton, in the possession of 
those men, who, for a trifling gratuity, exhibit them to the 
curious spectator,——? 

Thb agility and strength of insects are well known. Ants 
can carry loads forty or fifty limes heavier than themselves. 
Linnasus has calculated that the Melolontha is, relatively to 
its size, six limes stronger than the horse ; and he asserts 
if the proportional strength of the Lucanus, or stag-beetle, 
had been given to the elephant, it could have torn up tlio 
largest trees by the roots, and, like the giants of mythology, 
could have hurled huge rocks against its assailants. 

Religion is that hope which is the resource and the com* 
fort of the patient, and the sovereign balm for all the evils 
of life ! — Anok. 



No. VII. 
Elbctkicai. Expesiukntb. 
Electricity moves with grtater- facility in rarefied 
air UiBD in that of ordinoiy dcDaity, the apark dit- 
fnsing itself aod losing its characteristic brilliancj in 
proportion as the medium through which it is trans- 
mitted hecomes more attenuated. This fact is strictly 
in arcordance with our previous knowledge of the 
non-conducting properties of air, and would seem to 
Imply, that, in a perfect vacunni, the motion of elec- 
tricity must he the same as it ia in good coaduclors. 
Let a represent a strong glass tube, about eighteen 
inches long, and two inches in 
e diameter, fitting air-tight at each 

^fc end into brass caps, and sup- 

PM ported by a stand b. The sphe- 

^F rical portion of the cap c nn- 

I screws, and nndemeath it is an 

■ir-valve, opening outwards, to 
which can be attached a syringe, 
for the purpose of withdrawing 
air from the tube. A pointed 
'Wire at one end, and a brass ball 
at the other, project within the 
tube, to prevent the electricity 
from passing along its sides. 

XWhen the tube is in its ordi- 
nary state, if the cap c be placed 
near the conductor, and the ma- 
chine set in motion, only a few 
feeble eparks will enter the tube, 
the remainder of the electricity 
making its escape externally. 
Let the syiinge he now fixed to the air-valve, and 
after working it, say ten or fifteen strokes, on pre- 
senting the tube to the conductor, in the same man- 
ner as before, the electricity will be seen to pass 
freely tbrough it, and, by a liitle management on the 
part of the operator, it can be made to exhibit dis- 
tinct and uninterrupted streams of violet- coloured 
light, which extend the whole length of the tube. 

Again applying the syringe, and exhausting as much 
air as possible from the tube, if it be brought near 
the conductor, it will be found that a very small 
quantity of electricity will be suHicient to illuminate 
it j and in a darkened room it will appear to be filled 
with a lambent Same, the colours of which are 
changing every moment through all the varied hues 
at the rainbow. 

Here is another form of apparatus for illustrating 
the effects of electricity, when transmitted tbrough 
■ir or other gaseous bodies of variable densities : — 
a is a globular glass vessel, about nine inches in 
diameter, at opposite sides of which are brass rods, 
ib, sliding in air-tight collars, and terminating in 
balls of the same kind of metal. At c is a stop- 
cock, by which the globe is detached from its sup- 
port de, and connected with a syringe, or the plate 
of an air-pump, for the purpose of exhausting it of 
air : d is a glass pillar, and by its means the appa- 
ratus is insulated. In using it, therefore, it ia neces- 
Muy that one of the sliding rods should communicate 
witii the floor by a wire or chain ; the other being 
placed at any required striking distance from the 
conductor . 

Proceeding as above directed with the luminous 
tube, we ought first to notice the effect of the electric 
■park in the globe when the latter is filled with air, 
and which will be precisely simitar to that produced 
between two brass balls at tlie same distances, under 
ordinary circumstances. In proportion, however, as 

the air is withdrawn from the globe, it will be found 
that the space between the bolls may be increased ; 
and when the exhaustion is carried to its utmost pos- 
sible limit, electricity of such fi^ble tension u 
scarcely to penetrate a column of air of half an inch 
in thickness, will pass with the utmost celerity en- 
tirely across the globe, filling its whole area with 
streams of light, the colours of which are so beao- 
tifiil, their forms so various, and their movements so 
rapid, as fully to justify the general opinion, that thii 
species of electric light is identical with that which 
constitutes the magnificent meteor called the Auroit 

It was noticed long ago, that the Aaron was, ix» 
some way or other, connected with magneUsDA- 
During the lost few years it has been ascertained^ 
that mi^etism and electricity are so closely allie^^ 
that it is diificnlt, if not impossible, to assign f^ 
either its exact limits, or to determine, in any parti- 
cular class of phenomena, where the one operated 
independently of the other 

Retumia; for a moment to the exhausted globes 
let us mention, that if it were possible to product 
within it a perfect vacuum, that is, a space wholly 
void of air or vaponr, we have reason to believe tha.* 
electricity would pass through it without exhibiting 
any luminosity, something analc^ous to this having 
been observed in the nearest approach to a vacnnn 
hitherto attained. 

It is also deserving of remark, that in the expert' 
menu we have just been describing, whether a tube 
or a globular vessel be employed, the space throi^Ia 
which the electric spark can be transmitted, its colons 
and the forma it assumes, depend solely on the den- 
sity of the air. Hence we conclude, that the Ann»« 
consists of diffused electricity passing from one par^ 
of the atmosphere to anotlier, or, in some instance* 
perhaps, from the earth to the atmosphere; th^ 
colours and other appearances presented by it bein0 
determined by distance, by the position of th^ 
observer, by the density, temperature, and hygromc 
trical state of the air, and most likely by other condi" 
tions which are only imperfectly understood. 

The energy of the electric spark, next demaniK ^ 
notice; and by that, wc mean its power of commnnS- ' 
eating heat to certain substances, of igniting othe rg^ 
and, in an accumulated form, of dissolving metals an^' 
causing the disruption of the hardest minerals. 

If a person stand on an electrical stool, (which i-^ 
a stool with strong glass legs), and he in commniU'^ 
cation with the condoctor, on exciting the machine^ 




the person thus situated will be charged with electri- 
city i and if we present the knnckle^ or a brass ball, 
to any part of his body, sparks will issue from it pre- 
cisely in the same manner as they do from the con- 
ductor itself; but the colour of the sparks will not be 
so intensely white, as when taken from a metallic 

In this experiment the individual electrified is said 
to be insulated, the glass pillars which support him 
preventing the escape of electricity to the earth. This 
will be seen in a moment, if he touch any person or 
object not insulated; as in that case no sparks will 
be emitted from his body, the electricity passing off 
silently and unobserved to the floor. 

The electrical stool must be wiped carefully before 
it is used ; and we find it useful to place a large sheet 
of brown paper, thoroughly dried, underneath it, the 
more effectually to protect the legs from dust or 

When a person is electi*ified in the manner just 
described, no painful, nor indeed, unpleasant sensa- 
tions are experienced, excepting when another person 
or object approaches sufficiently near to receiv.e the 
spark; that being accompanied by a sharp pricking 
at the surface of the body, and a vibratory, or rather 
convulsive motion of the muscles, varying in its inten- 
sity according to the length of the spark, the part 
firom which it issues, and the nature of the materials 
of which the dress is composed. On these occasions 
the hair of the individual is more or less affected, the 
cause of which has been already explained*, and when 
it is long, dry, and of a fine texture, presents a very 
extraordinary appearance. 

Let us now suppose a person to be standing on an 
electrical stool, as already mentioned. If another 
person take a table-spoon, the bowl of which, having 
been previously warmed, contains a small quantity 
of spirit of wine : on placing the surface of the spirit 
within about an inch of the top of one of the fingers 
(which must be pointed downwards) of the person on 
the stool, sparks will pass from the finger to the 
spoon, and in their transit will inflame the spirit. 
The same result will follow if the person electrified 
hold the spopn, whilst another receives the spark 
through the spirit on his knuckle, or by means of a 
brass balL 

This experiment can be pleasingly varied as fol- 
lows: — ^Let four or more ale-glasses about three parts 
filled with cold water be placed, say, a foot distant 
from each other; a communication being made 
between them by separate wires, bent in the form as 
represented in the subjoined figure. The first glass 
must be connected with the machine by a chain, one 
end of which is attached to the conductor, and the other 
placed within the glass. On the surface of the water 
in the fourth glass, must be poured about a table- 
spoonful of ether. The machine being now set in 
motion, if a small brass ball be held just above the 
surface of the ether, sparks will pass through it from 
the water, and the ether will be instantly inflamed. 
In arranging the wires in the glasses, their points 

» See Saturday Uagatine, Vol. XIIL, p. 228. 

should not be in contact; as the electric .energy will 
thereby appear the more remarkable; the ether being 
inflamed after the spark has passed through a column 
of water in each of the four glasses. 

In this case, as in that also of spirit of wine, it is 
the vapour immediately above its surface which is first 
inflamed, and by that ignition is communicated to the 
liquid. Hence the necessity for warming the spoon 
containing spirit of wine, as that does not evaporate so 
rapidly as ether. 


The great Sahara Region of Africa is a vast desert of 
sand, which is composed of particles of white and gray 
quartz, very small, and seldom attaining so large a size as 
to form gravel or pebbles. It is by far the dreariest region 
on the wnole face of the globe, and the wind fiequently 
raises this sand in clouds so dense as to overpower a whole 
company of travellers. '* The sand-storm we had the mis- 
fortune to encounter/* says Denham, ** in crossing the desert, 
gave us a pretty correct idea of its dreadM effects. The 
wind raised the fine sand with which the extensive desert 
was covered, so as to fill the atmosphere, and render the 
immense space before us impenetrable but for a few. The 
sun and clouds were entirely obscured, and a suffocating 
and oppressive weight accompanied the flakes and masses 
of sand, which I had almost said we* had to penetrate at 
every step. At times we almost lost siffht of the camels, 
though only a few yards before us. The horses hung their 
tongues out of their mouths and refused to face the clouds 
of sand. A parching thirst oppressed us, which nothing 

When whirlwinds visit this immense desert, the sand is 
raised into pillars, a vivid description of which has been 
left us by the traveller Bruce. ''At one o'clock,** says he, 
" we alighted among some acacia trees at Wady el Halboub, 
having gone twenty-one miles. We were here at once 
surprisea and terrified by a sight surely one of the most 
magnificent in the world. In the vast expanse of desert 
from west to north-west of us, we saw a number of prodi- 
gious pillars of sand at different distances, at times moving 
with great velocity, at others stalking on with majestio 
slowness. At intervals we thought they were coming in 
a very few minutes to overwhelm us, and small quantities 
of sand actually more . than once reached us ; again they 
would retreat, so as to be almost out of sight, their tops 
reaching to the very clouds ; then the tops often separated 
from the bodies, and these, once disjoined, dispersea in the 
air, and did not meet more ; sometimes they were broken 
in the middle as if they were struck with a large cannon 
shot. At noon they advanced with considerable swiftness 
upon us, the wind being very strong north. Eleven ranged 
along side of us, at about the distance of three miles ; 
the greatest diameter of the larger appeared to me, at that 
distance, as if it would measure ten feet : they retired from 
us with a wind at south-east, leaving an impression on 
my mind to which I can give no name, though surely one 
ingredient was fear, with a considerable degree of wonder 
and astonishment. It was vain to think of flying : the 
swiftest horse would be of no use to carij us out of this 
danger, and the full conviction ^f this riveted me to the 

Adanson, in crossing the river Gambia from the Great 
Desert, observed one of these pillars of sand crossing that 
river. It passed within eighteen or twenty fathoms of 
the stern of the vessel, and seemed to measure ten or twelve 
feet in circumference, and about two hundred and fifty 
feet in height. Its heat was sensibly felt at the distance 
of a hundred feet, and it left a strong sulphureous smell 
behind it. — ^? 



[February 16, 


No X, On Wafers. 

Respecting the antiquity of wafers Mr. Spiess of 
Halle has remarked that the oldest seal with a red 
wafer appears to be on a letter written by Dr. Krapf 
of Spiess, in the year 1624, to the government of 
Bayreuth. Spiess also discovered that some few 
years after the last-mentioned date, the Brandenburg 
factor at Nuremburg, whose name was Forsten- 
hausser, sent wafers, similar to the one just alluded 
to, to a bailiff at Osternohe. It appears, however, 
that wafers were not used, during the whole of the 
seventeenth century, in the chancery of Brandenberg, 
but only by private individuals, and even by these to 
a very limited extent; the reason being, as was 
observed by Spiess, that writers preferred the (so 
called) Spanish wax to wafers. The first wafers with 
which the chancery of Bayreuth began to seal their 
documents, were, according to the details of an 
expeuse-book of the year 1 705, sent from Nurem- 
burg. The employment of wax, however, still con- 
tinued, and in the archives of Plassenburg there is a 
rescript, written in the year 1722, and sealed with 
the proper sealing-wax. The exclusive use of wax 
must have continued to a still later period in the 
duchy of Weimar 3 for in the Electro juriw publici 
there is an order of the year 1716, by which the in- 
troduction of wafers in law matters was forbidden, 
and the use of wax enforced. This order was abolished 
by order of Duke Ernest AugustuSj in 1741, and 
wafers were again introduced. 

The invention of wafers is attributed to the Genoese. 
The date of the introduction of wafers into England 
does not appear. 

The adhesive property of common paste belongs to 
gluten, one of the ingredients of most of the esculent 
seeds, especially wheat. In the manufacture of 
wafers, fine wheaten flour is employed : this is formed 
into a smooth paste, with two other adhesive ingre- 
dients, viz. white of egg and isinglass. This paste is 
spread evenly over six plates, with a certain pressure, 
and dried in an oven, or at a peculiarly shaped stove. 
Several of these tin plates are piled upon each other, 
and the contact of the heated metal with the sheet of 
paste communicates to it a smooth glossy surface. 
When the drying is complete, the sheets of paste are 
placed upon each other to the thickness of an inch or 
so, and then cut into wafers of various sizes by means 
of hollow punches. The wafers being allowed to pass 
up the hollow cavity, they merge at an opening 
which is formed for that purpose at the side of each 
punch. The various colours which we are accustomed 
to meet with in wafers are communicated to them by 
the usual colouring materials, such as red-lead, ver- 
milion, smalt, &c., which are mixed up with the paste, 
previous to the process of drying. Some of these 
colours being poisonous, the wafer-maker sells the 
refuse coloured clippings for the purpose of destroying 
rats and other vermin. 

A very elegant form of wafers, called medallion 
wafers y was invented some years ago. The surface of 
each wafer represents in relief many of those classical 
and antique devices which we are accustomed to see 
in ordinary seals, but the effect is more pleasing than 
in the latter. Medallion wafers are thus prepared: — 
A given quantity of very pure glue is dissolved in 
water, to which a coloured tint has been imparted by 
turmeric, brazil-wood, or some other dye. A gem, 
seal, or medallion, is then moistened with a weak 
solution of gum, in which an opaque, white, or other 
material has been dissolved: this coloured gum- 
water is then carefully wiped off the pl^ne projecting 

I parts of the seal, and allowed to remain only in the 
I hollows or other depressions. A small quantity of the 
; coloured glue, in a melted state, is poured over the 
seal, and the whole is dried by a gentle heat. la 
drying, the glue and gum shrink, and thus become 
easily separable from the seal. Matters are so 
arranged that the medallion wafer shall present a 
thickness not exceeding that of common writing-paper, 
and it then yields a beautiful copy of the seal ; the 
coloured gum giving the device, and the glue the 
ground; and when the respective colours are well 
chosen, the whole appearance of the wafer is chaste 
and harmonious. It will readily be supposed that so 
elegant a wafer is not intended to be hidden by being 
placed between the folds of a letter : it is, on the con- 
trary, used much in the same way as a common seal 
of sealing-wax, so far as its position is concerned. 
The part of the paper to which it is to be applied is 
wetted slightly, and the back surface of the wafer is 
placed on the wetted part, to which it immediately 
adheres, in consequence of the glutinous nature of 
its ingredients. The process of forming these wafers 
amounts, in fact, to forming a mould of any seal, in* 
taglio, &c., and with certain variations, this process has 
long been in use for taking impressions from ancient 
coins, &c. The apphcation of the process to the making 
of wafers is, however, the novelty of the invention. 

There is a kind of wafer, called French isinglass 
wafer, prepared in the following manner. Isinglass 
is dissolved in water to a proper consistence, and is 
poured upon glass plates with raised borders ; these 
plates have previously been rubbed over with ox-gall, 
to prevent the adhesion of the isinglass. Various 
colouring materials, and frequently perfumes of 
various kinds, are mixed with the isinglass in a fluid 
state, and before the film on the plate is quite dry, it 
is cut along the edges, and separated from the plate. 
It is then cut into wafers in the usual manner. These 
wafers are exceedingly thin, and are far more adhe- 
sive than the common wafers : they also require 
less wetting to make them adhere. These wafers 
were sold some years ago in London, in the neigh- 
bourhood of Wood-street, Cheapsidc, at a wafe^ 
maker s. They were called " Patent Wafers," and 
were sold in sixpenny packets, each contsining 150 or 
200 wafers. 


In a mosque at Tophana was exhibited the Dance of 
the Dervishes j a ceremony so extraordinary, that it 
is necessary to see it, in order to believe that it i» 
really practised by human beings, as an act of devo- 

As we entered the mosque, we observed twelve or 
fourteen Dervishes walking slowly round, before » 
superior, in a small space surrounded with raillt 
beneath the dome of the building. Several spectators 
were stationed on the outside of the railing; and 
being, as usual, ordered to take off our shoes, we 
joined the party. In a gallery over the entrance 
were stationed two or three performers on the tam- 
bourine and Turkish pipes. Presently the Dervishes, 
crossing their arms over their breasts, and with each 
of their hands grasping their shoulders, began obei- 
sance to the Superior, who stood with his back agaios* 
the wall, facing the door of the mosque. Then each 
in succession, as he passed the Superior, having 
finished his bow, began to turn round, first slowly, b^^ 
afterwards with such velocity that his long garmcnt^# 
flying out in the rotary motion, the whole party ap'' 
peared spinning like so many umbrellas upon thei^ 
handles. As they began, thek hands were disengage^} 




from their shoulders^ and raised gradually above their 
heads. At kngth, as the velocity of the whirl in- 
creased, they were all seea, with their arms extended 
horizontally, and their eyes closed, taming with incon- 
ceivable rapidity. The music, accompanied by voices, 
served to animate them i while a steady old fellow, in a 
green pelisse, continued to walk among them, with a 
fixed countenance, and expressing as much care and 
watchfulness as if his life would expire with the 
slightest failure in the ceremony. 

I noticed a method they all observed in the exhi- 
bition; it was that of turning one of their feet, with 
the toes as much inward as possible, at every whirl 
of the body, while the other foot kept its natural 
position. The elder of these Dervishes appeared to 
me to perform the task with so little labour or exer- 
tion, that, although their bodies were in violent agi- 
tation, their countenances resembled those of persons 
ia an easy sleep. The younger part of the dancers 
moved with no less velocity than the others i but it 
seemed in them a less mechanical operation. This 
extraordinary exercise continued for the space of 
fifteen minutes 5 a length of time, it might be sup- 
posed, sufficient to exhaust life itself during such an 
exertion ; and our eyes began to ache with the sight 
of so many objects all turning one way. 

Suddenly, on a signal given by the directors of the 
dance, unobserved by the spectators, the Dervishes all 
stopped at the same instant, like the wheels of a ma- 
chine; and what is more extraordinary, all intone 
circle, with their faces invariably towards the centre, 
crossing their arms on their breasts, and grasping 
their shoulders as before, bowing together with the 
utmost regularity, at the same instant, almost to the 
ground. We regarded them with astonishment, not 
one of them being in the slightest degree out of breath, 
heated, or having [his countenance at all . changed. 
AAer this they began to walk, as at first; each follow- 
ing the other within the railing, and passing the Supe- 
rior as before. As soon as their obeisance had been 
made, they began to turn again. This exhibition 
lasted as long as the first, and was similarly concluded. 
They then began to turn for the third timej and 
as the dance lengthened, the music grew louder and 
more animating. I Perspiration became evident on the 
features of the Dervishes ^ the extended garments of 
some among them began to droop, and little accidents 
occurred, such as their striking agaiAst eaeh other : 
they nevertheless persevered, until large drops of 
sweat falling from their bodies upon the floor, such 
a degree of friction was thereby occasioned, that the 
noise of their feet rubbing the floor was heard by the 
spectators. Upon this, the third and last signal was 
made for them to halt, and the dance ended. 

This extraordinary performance is considered mira- 
culous by the Turks. By their law, every species of 
dancing is prohibited ; and yet, in such veneration is 
this ceremony held, that an attempt to abolish it would 

excite insurrection among the people. Dr. E. D. 



Many of our readers will be interested with some 
extracts from a letter, written by Lieut. Wellsted, of 
the Indian Navy, and recently read before the Asiatic 
^ciety. It is on a subject of much interest', not merely 
(o the philologist and historian, but also to those who 
^re, by such researches, placed in a position to defend 
the Inspired Volume from the sneers and attacks of 
infidels, and to confirm the important fact, that the 
more thoroughly these regions are investigated, the 

more scrupulously correct will be found the Sacred 
writings. But let us hear Mr. Wellsted. 

At the period of the promulgation of the Koran, two 
alphabets were used in Arabia — the Kufic, in which that 
work is written, and which wo are still able to decipher, and 
the Himyaritic, adopted by the people of Yemen, but which, 
until I found it, was tuppoaed to be lost to us. I know not, 
therefore, on what grounds certain philologists have con- 
jectured it bore a strong aflinity to the Ethiopic; but, 
when the Koran appeared in the Kuflc character, the in- 
habitants of Yemen were unable to read it. It has fre- 
quently been a subject of regret that we were in possession 
of no inscriptions firom the country * by which these points 
might be determined. Niebubr, during his stay in Arabia* 
sought in vain for them. I add, that, " owing to the locality 
in which these inscriptions are found, and for other reasons 
I venture to suggest that these, together with those found at 
Hassan (rorab, are in the lost Himyaritic writing. Should 
this prove the case, the resemblance to the Ethiupic is not 
conjectural, since a complete identity in many of the letters 
ean be traced.** 

On this subject the Geographical Society, in a review 
of the Ethnography of the African races, observes — " Dr. 
Pritchard brings arguments to prove that the Abyssinian 
alphabet was derived from the Himyarites, and not invented 
by the first Christian missionaries at Axum, as Michaelis 
and other biblical writers have supposed ; and here we may 
obser\*e, that it has been discovered by Lieutenant Wellsted 
that such was precisely the fkct. The letters of the Abys- 
synians, or characters nearly resembling them, have been 
used of old by the Himyarites; and this discovery, antici- 
pated from a survey of historic probabilities made by a British 
naval officer, has put an end to a controversy, long agitated 
amongst the European literati, as to the era and manner in 
which the Abyssinians came to be possessed of the art of 

Mr. Wellsted then proceeds to draw the attention 
of the Society to the important fact, that there is the 
strongest reason for believing this Himyaritic lan- 
guage to be still a spoken one ; he gives, indeed, a 
few words of the language which he brought with 
him ; and, to place the matter beyond doubt, recom- 
mends that a copious vocabulary be forthwith obtained 
from Arabia. 

For reasons, into which he enters at some length, 
Lieut. Wellsted states his opinion, that a most power- 
ful monarchy once existed in Yemen, South Arabia, 
which extended its limits to India, endured 2000 
years, and numbered amidst its monarchs the re- 
nowned Queen of Sheba. One of these monarchs 
extended his conquests into Chinese Tartary^ and 
much as the reality of this expedition has been 
doubted, Mr. Wellsted brings to our notice, that 
when the early Mohammedan conquerors took Bok- 
hara, they found over one of its gates an inscrip- 
tion^ in the Himyaritic character, expressly recording 
the visit of this monarch. 

There can be little doubt, but that this character and 
language is one of the oldest (if not the oldest) on Uie face 
of the ^lobe. "Writing was known to Job and to the 
Himyarites many centuries before Mohammed, as appears 
from some ancient monuments said to remain in that cha- 
racter."—- l7ni«er«aZ History, One of these •* ancient mo- 
numents," therefore, it has been my good fortune to dis- 
cover. Again, the same authority says, *' The Himyarites 
were not strangers to the art of writing, the characters 
used by them were the most ancient of any used by the 
Arabs ; from the mutual dependence of the letters or parts 
upon each other it was called El MosnadS' At this point, 
however, we have enough to pronounce, that a new Semetic 
language is probably before us, which may, in ancient 
times, have extended over Asia, and which by future re- 
searches promises to add a new version of the Bible to the 

* Sir William Jones, in bis annual address, more than once alludes 
to this desideratum; and, in a Memoir addressed by the French aca- 
demicaos to the King of Denmark, teventy-iive years z%o, it 
formed one of Michaelis's questions for the solution of the cele* 
brated Danish travellers, who were ahout to proceed to Vemcn. 
Michaelis appean to have been fully aware of the importance of ob- 
taining this character and language. 



FCBRVART 16, lfi39. 

collection of onr Polyglott. I do not hesilate even to pre- 
dict, that we hive enoush before us, to call seriously in 
question the cormctneu of & portion of our present system 
of compnrstive geogrvphy. 

Lieut. WelUted proceeds to pronounce bis decided 
belief, that Yemen was the country from whence came 
tfae Queen of Sheba, to hononr, in the plenitude of his 
wisdom and hia power, the wise sovereign of Israel. 
He has ascertained that the country does now, and 
has ever since, reUined that name. He throws also 
some curious lights on the Scriptural narrative, as to 
the voyage of the latter monarch, and the fleets to Tar- 
shish and Ophir, concerning which the learned have 
been much divided. Lieut. Wellsted also brings to our 
notice a most singular and most interesting fact, that 
inscriptions in this ancient character have, since his 
discovery of those in Arabia, been found in Asia, in 
Africa, and even in America. But we must close our 
notice of tbia letter with Lieut. Wellsted's concluding 

I have only to add, that; whither the clue wehnvs thus 
obtained to the decyphering of iheis inicriptioai will lead, 
isapointon trbichlwilluoipermit myself now to speculate; 
but, if ve succeed, it is impossible to conceal, that ve have 
in prospect the certainty of deciding on the existenca of a 
tniRhCy empire :— ^ne of the oldest languages in tlie world 
wiU be presented in an open volume to us ; a light vill be 
thrown on all that space which bat hitherto been wrapped 
in the gloom of ages. The era of Istteis, the migration of 
nations, the progress of civilization, the deaolating raanih 
of eastern conquerors may be traced — while the traditions 
and writings of the Arabian and profane authors will not, 
in this and in other cotes, be deemed so wholly unworthy 
of credence ; and, at the same time, we may look forward 
with confidence to receiving further testimonials to the 
scrupulous fidelity of the sacred writings. 

Wx have already noticed, in several valumea of this 
Magaaine, the wonderful discoveries which are due to 
the invention of the microscope; hut the wonders it 
has developed are almost innumerable, all tending to 
exhibit in varions aspects, the continued beneficence 
of the Creator, for the comfort and well-being of bis 
creatures. Ilie blood, muscles, and nerves, have been 
subjected to examination, and the beauty of their 
Structure has been found to be surpassingly great. 
The microscope teaches us that blood is composed of a 
number of red glob'oles floating in a colourless liquid; 
these red globules are so minute that the space of a 
superficial square inch will contain by calculation as 
many as 2,890,000 ; hut when deprived of their colour- 
ing matter, which appears not to be contained in their 
substance, hat merely to cover their surface, tfae same 
space will hold as many as 4,000,000. 
Pi(. 1. Fif . 1. 


Fig. I shows a small square spot containing sixteen 
coloured globules of blood. A spot of the same size, 
fig. 2, will contain as many u twenty-fire globulea 
when deprived of their colouring tnatter 

la order to obtain a good view of the globules in 
their colonred state, it is necessary that a very small 
quantity of blood only, should be smeared as thin as 
possible on the glass, that all moisture may instantly 
evaporate; they then remain of their full size and 
colonr, perfectly spherical, as in fig. 1 . If a greatei 
quantity of blood, be laid upon a glass which retains 
moisture, only for the space of half a minute, the 
colouring matter begins, in a few seconds, to separate, 
and form a circle round the globule, and if the blood is 
diluted with water, the separation of the colounag 
matter is instantaneous, and the globule puta on the 
appearance represented in fig. 2. When the globules 
in the human blood lose the colouring matter, they 
continue floating, till they gradually appear to be 
attracted by each other, or to collect in groups, as in 
fig. 3 ; from this arrangement. Sir Everard Home thinks 
it probable that the globules are that portion of the 
blood from which the fibres of the muscles are 

He made several attempts to ascer- _. . 

tain the construction of the muscular 
fibre, and at last succeeded in laying a 
single fibre from the thigh of a roasted 
chicken under the microscope. It was 
then found, that if the muscular fibre ^ 
of a chicken, which has been boiled o 
roasted, be soaked in water, changing t 
the water every day for a week, single I 
fibres can be easily detached, and tbey 1 
appear as in fig. 4 ; and if they are 1 
still kept in water, they are broken 
down into numerous small globules, of 
the same size as those found in the 

In pursuing bis inquiries, ts to the properties of 
the blood, another singular phenomenon came under 
bis notice ; he observed, that if a quantity of this 
fluid was allowed to remain at rest for a short time, 
a thin film, or pellicle, was soon formed on its snr- 
face; a quantity of air was also disengaged from its 
substance, which, being unable to force ita way 
through tbb film, formed channels under its surface 
running in various directions, and having the exact 
appearance of empty blood-vessels. Observations of 
a like nature were then made on tfae blood,' which, 
having flowed from a wound, had coagulated on. its 
surface on the living body ; here the same channels 
were made by the disengagement of air, but, instead 
of remaining empty, as in the first experiment, they 
became filled with liquid blood from the smaller veins 
and arteries, and becoming connected with them, 
formed fresh Uving tissue, and thus connectefl ^ 
parts divided by the wound. 

Rahi-a, an andeat town of Palestine, now in ruins, says 
Mr. Thompson, a missionary, who was there in Hay, 1834, 
has, at no very remote period, been much larger than at 
present. The number of inhabitants is perhaps six thou- 
sand, mostly Mussulmen and Greek Christiaas ; but what 
is extraordinary is the fact that at least one half the popu- 
lation is blind, either in one or both eyes, and many of the 
inhabitants have such weak eyes that they keep them half 
closed. Ramla is situated in the centre of a vast plain in 
the valley of Sharon ; and it is probable that the continual 
tefleetion of the sun's rayi from the white sand is the causa 
of this universal calamity. 


PDnJU»a WmLTNvuiMrnTciiOiiiPiiiiiT, iHDiHMonBLT Pxv 

Ibdturlrail M^^n^im^ 

m 426. 


231P, 1839. 



Wi come now to notice those curioos and instmctive 
pnctMea of the glBSS-atainer whereby the chief ma- 
Wil a prodnced in 

Storied windom, richly dight, 

C4rtillff ^ iiiTn rplimnn* lipht- 

Vhcn certain metoUic subctances are made, through 
k >geocy of beat, to combine with colonrleu glass, 
tttrefoh ■• a stain which penetrates more or less 
faply into the very tobstance of the glass iUelF. 
Am the choice and management of these metallic 
eploviing matten are points of the greatest import- 
mce, we will flnt offer a few detaila on the subject. 
We have already described the general processes of 
gUss-blowing*, so that by referring the reader to 
that article, he will the better appreciate the following 
The colonriog materials are in aU cases metallic. 

• Sw Utmriag Mati/HHi, Vol. III., p. 131. 
Vol. XIV. 

Gold is employed for purple; a mixture of gold and 
silver gives a rose colour; iron, a brick red; iron, 
copper, and manganese, in various proportionH, form 
browns and blacks. Perfectly black glass, in large 
slabs, is now imported from RuhIb, and is used 
instead of black marble in ornamental furniture. 

Blue is obtained from cobalt, commonly called 
xaffret. The origin of this term is curious: the old 
glass- stainers preserved their processes with jealous 
secresy; and when urged to disclose them frequently 
gave false recipes t, one of which for a bine stain waa 
xappkim. When oxide of cobalt became known 
as the real material, this waa supposed to be the 

t TK« lame practice ii Hill uloptod, and lh« • 

valaabii ncipM- 

lUincd JD mki 

r or Diir »orb OQ 

are ilmont worihlen 

M. BroDgn 




• ronn Iha goIobm 

ow retipM w p.«.." 



[February 23, 

sapphires of the old stainers j and by an easy cof- 
ruption, it ivas culled saffresi under Which name it il 
now commonljr known in commerce. 

Pare silver possesses the extraordinary property of 
staining glass yellow when brought in contact with it 
at avduli:red iheat, and this is the material employed 
for yellowj orange^ or red stains | any onC beifig pro* 
duced by modifications of the same process. No 
flui: is used j bnt the silver is ground with ochre or 
clay^ and laid in a thick stratum on the glass. After 
the process of firings although the Silver is not found 
to adhere at all to the glass, yet a transparent yellow 
stain is imparted to it. If a large proportion of 
ochre be used, the stain is yellow : if the proportion 
be small^ it is orange 5 and by repeated firings the 
latter is, in some unaccountable way, converted into 
ruby red ; and this is the process we before alluded 
to for procuritig this colour, although it is not equal 
to that of the old artists. 

In enamel paintibg, copper yields a fine greeUi but 
it does tiot answer well on glass ; and no other ma* 
teriai being knoWti to afford a good greeui an inge- 
nious contrivance is adopted. Since a mixture of 
yellow and blUe produces green, the glassi which in 
other cases is stained on one side .only» is in this cli6e 
stained blue on one sidci and then, by a second pro* 
cessi yellow or lemoA colour ou (he other. 

In addition to the above modes of staining glass, 
another mode is resorted td, when practicable. It 
consists in melting common glast, or its ingredients, 
mixed with the colouring matter^ iti a melting pot, in 
the same way that ordinfeury glass in mude. Here the 
resulting panen ure coloured tUroughout their sub- 
stance, and such glass is called jMf meinL 

Another mode consists itk/ia§k(fifff that Is, uniting 
a thin la3rer of coloured glass with another layer 
which is colourless. The ctnoured layer is sometimes 
included between two /isyi^ of colourless glass. Such 
glass is prepared thus : the glass-blower hvA two 
melting-pots tn the furnace, one contmnitig colourless 
and the other coloured glass, each In n melted state. 
He dips his rod first into the colourless glasA, and, 
then into the coloured, a portion t)f which adheres tb 
the lump first taken up^ If It is desired to enclose 
the coloured film between two Colourless lAyers» he 
again dips his rod Into the colourless glass. He then 
proceeds with the processes of bhmbiff imd irAMtajf, 
as in the manufacture ot the ordinary orown glass 
for windows. We have seen some Specimens of fine 
ruby-glass made in France by this meUiod, which is 
also employed in the formation of perf^me^^bottlesi 
and other ornamental vessels of particular colours. 

The production of the ruby red staiq^ has long 
been a most interesting feature connected with the 
details of our subject. We will therefore conclude 
this short article with a f«w. anecdotal remarks 

Gold, copper, and silver^ are the reputed sources of 
the splendid reds of the old stainers ; and so general 
at one; time was the notion, in France, that gold was 
the colouring material, that in 1793| the French 
government actually collected a large quantity of fine 
old red glass, and demolished it for the purpose of 
getting the gold which, as it was supposed, afforded 
the colouring material. It is needless to remark that 
they were not very successful, although it was stated, 
by Kunckel, that gold melted with Jiint glass afforded 
a fine ruby colour -, but as Kunckel was a stainer by 
't>rofession, and derived much profit from his ruby 
glass, which was really fine, there is no wonder that 
he did not publish his process. 

When gold is employed, great care and experimental 
knowledge is necessary, especially as to temperature j 

since a slight excess of heat produces a dull blue, or 
a dingy brown, instead of a red. A similar remark 
applies when copper is the material. When taken 
out of the melting-pot, it often exhibits only a faint 
greenish tinge : it is then worked into panes, by the 
exposure of which to a gentle heat a brilliant red is 
produced:, this is an extraordinary and unaccount- 
able fact. 

That copper will produce a red stain was discovered 
(perhaps we may say re- discovered) in a remarkable 
manner. The reader is probably aware that Plate- 
Glass is formed by rolling out the refined glass, in a 
molten state, upon a steel table. The transfer of the 
glass i« sometimes made by tilting the melting-pot 
over the table^ and at other times by lading it out by 
means of a copper ladle, which must occasionally be 
dipped into cold water, to prevent it from being 
warpedi or perhaps melted, by the heat. Many years 
ago, at the plate-glass works of St. Qobain, the latter 
mode of manufacture was adopted > and on one oc- 
casion^ the cold-water precaution being neglected, the 
ladle remained in the melting pot. The workman 
fbolishly thought that he should find his ladle at the 
bottom of the melting pot t the casting was proceeded 
with» and all the contents of the pot exhausted, but 
the ladle had disappeared. No further notice was 

taken of the circumstance, till the glass having been t 

annealed and being about to be polished, the work — 
men» to their surprise, discovered traces of the lost^ 
Udle in metallio particles uf copper embedded in the^ 
glass, together with lurge streaks of a fine red colour. - 
This circumstance becoming known, a variety of ex — . 
periments were tried by different chemists and glass- i 
stainers, with various degrees of success. 

Such then is A brief account of the colours em .m 
ployed in the prt>duction of stained glass. We com* ^ 
now to notice the method of applying them wheK^ 
certain patterns ot figure\are required^ as in Uie cas^s 
of a church window | but for the sake of greater sin^M 
pliclty we will show the mode of producing a sms^ J 
ornamenli such as a f^ettte, on a pane of colourlei^ ^ 

A pattern or drawing of the desired figure is pr^- 
pareou the outlines of which are dark and well de- 
fined. This is attached to the glass by means €ff 
waferi at At eorneni \ the glass serving the sanne 
object as the glaae of a plcture4huaie» the design beixsg 
perfectly visible through it. 

The Colouring materials are ground up with flint 
glafts, lead, and borax, the ingredients of a very fusible 
glass, which acts as a fiux. Fluidity is given to the 
colouring matter and Aux, by mixing them with a 
volatile oil, such as turpentine : amber oil, capivi 
balsam, or gum Water, are also employed. 

The • pane of glass, with its pattern attached, i> 
mounted upon an easel, and the figure is painted da 
the glass with the above colours, by means of lo&K 
haired sable pencils. A rest stick is also emplby^ 
and the general process resembles th&t employed ia 
painting on canvass. 

When the same figure is to be produced upon a 
number of similar panes of glass, the pattern need 
not be shifted from the first pane ; but the secool 
piece of glass being laid upon the first, the procest It 
repeated as before. 

For the production of more elaborate fibres, stM^ 
as the full-length portrait of a man, including a tKXN 
tion of the builaing in which he is placed, two 
methods are united to attain the desired result. Vb» 
face and other parts are painted on a piece of glaisrf 
the desired form j but the drapery &c. are cut (Mft 
from pieces of glass, to which various but equable 
stains have been previously imparted. Thete IrrtgQ* 




lar pieces are Imilt tip into a pietare, the Joints being 
made with glaziers' lead, eare being taken to throw 
such joints into the shaded parts of the pietnre. 

The sheets of oolonred glass are prepared hy a pro- 
eess similar to the blowing and whirling as adopted 
by the ordinary glass*blowcr, in the production of com- 
non window«glass t bat for certain stains^ and for all 
designs which hare been painted on panes of glass, a 
method of flaing the colours, by burning, is adopted. 
The process of burning need not be described very 
minutely. A slight notice thereof will be sufficient 
§oT the general r^der. The panes of glass are taken 
separately, and placed in a box of iron-plate, called a 
mwfit*' This muffle is fiomished with shelves of iron- 
plate, covered with powdered lime, to prevent the 
glass coming in contact with the hot metal surface. 
The mutfk is now placed within a furnace, and the 
contents are gradually brought to a dull red heat, by 
Bieans of fuel that does not produce flam€ ; for which 
purpose coke * and charcoal are usually employed. 
The heat produced must be exactly sufficient to fuse 
the flux, by which means the colouring material 
becomes firmly united to one surface (the upper one) 
of the panes of glass. Hollow tubes pass out from 
the furnace into the air, through which the process of 
burning in the colours can be witnessed \ and it re- 
quires the watehful eye of experience to detect the 
precise moment when the process is complete. The 
ftre is then damped and allowed to go out gradually 3 
and in tea or twelve hours (the glass slowly cooling 
and annealing all the while), the burning process is 

When the glass is removed from the muffle, the 
colours are seraped or brushed off separately ; some 
of the more valuable stains being reserved for repeated 
«se, since a smsdl fraction imly of the colouring 
matt^ is absorbed by the glass. 

The panes are thorougUy cleaned and separately 
examined. If any flaws or fhults appear, the colour 
is again applied, and a second burning is adopted. 
This second burning also tends to remove spots or 
stains, and serves to heighten the colours. 

Such then is a brief account of the processes still 
adopted, and which were probably adopted by the 
older artists in the production of stained glass. Many 
of the fine windows which were painted previous to 
the Reformation, were demolished during that event- 
ful period. In some cases the windows were pulled 
down, and the glass concealed in the vaults of the 
holy building ; and thus was it preserved from demo- 
lition. In more peaceful times the windows were 
restored! but it has frequently happened that the 
concealed glass has been forgotten ; sometimes it was 
stolen or broken by those who were ignorant of its 
value. As an example of the treatment bestowed 
OB ecclesiastic ornaments, during the time of Crom- 
well, we may instance the fine window over the altar- 
piece, in the chapel of St Peter^s College^ Cambridge, 

This beautiful chapel was built by subscription in 
1 632. Some of the embellishments with which it was 
decorated on its first erection were demolished or 
verooved during the civil wars. ** In 1543,*' say the 
Pariiamentary Commissioners, ^ we went to Peter- 
house, and pulled down two mighty angels, and divers 
other angels, the four evangelists, and Peter with his 
keys, on the chapd door j together with about ouq 
hundred cherubim, and many superstitious letters in 
gold." The beautiful painted glass, which now adorns 
the east window, was happily rescued from the profane 
hands which at that time waged war against the arts 
by bei^g taken to pieces and concealed in boxcs^ It 
represents the history of our Saviour's crucifixion 
between the two thieves. It is said to have been copied 

from two different designs ; one of which was painted 
by Rubens, for the high altar of the Recollet Church, 
at Antwerp 3 and the otber^ from which the groups at 
the sides were taken^ was the composition of Lambert 
Lombard. A fine altar-piece, of Norway oak, is 
placed under the sombre but pleasing light of this 
rich window. 

The frontispiece which illustrates the present article, 
is a copy of an old window in York Cathedral, the 
work probably of John Thornton, the terms of whose 
engagement we stated in our former article, p. 18. 

{From a Correspondent,) 

[In our first article on Stained Glass Windows, (page 18 
of the present volume,) we gave a list of EogUiih gUusp^ 
stainers, with a slight notice of their principal works. It 
appears that in this list we omitted the names of several 
stainers who are still exercising their professbn ; names 
wbieh, as our oorrespondeni remarks, are, " unfortunately 
for the artists, scarcely known/* We are snxioos to do 
justice to all; and while we cannot but regret the omissions 
complained of, it will be seen how difficult it is to avoid 
omissions of the names of artists whose ingenious and 
beautiful productions are, we regret to state, so seldom 
brought before the public at large.] 

Muss, a skilful painter, who died tn 1824. Anfbng his 

Srineipal works were the Assumption of the Virgin, after 
(urillo, (for Sir Thomas Baring;) the Battle of Neville s 
Cross at Brandspeth Castle; several windows at Eaton HsU* 
the seat of the Marquis of Wsstminster, and man^ others. 

MiLX.siu a painter of the present day* whose xshief works 
are done in imitation of the ancient style. 

HoADLBT and Oldfibld, two successful artists now 
living. Their works are remarkable for their minuteness, 
high finish, and elaborate detail. Manv of their perform- 
ances were lately exhibited io the public, and met with 
fovourable notice. Among their works may he mentioned 
the copies of those welUknown enmFiogs of MartiOr Wf^p 
Belshaszars Feast, Josbus» ana Nineveh; the noted 
Kemble ii^mily of Harlow; Faith, Hope, and Cliarity, 
after Reynolds (a copy of these were done for Charles the 
Tenth of France). These artists are now engaged upon a 
splendid window for the Rev. Gale Townley, after 6 pagooletti, 
of the Descent from the Cross, fro., wbieb« it is Io be hoped* 
will be shortly exhibited to the public, and thus prove to 
the world that the srt of painting on glass is not lost* as 
manv foolishly imagine. 

WiLMspuasTy the painter of the well-known window of 
the Field of Cloth of Gold, a magnificent production, which 
was for some time exhibited in Oxford-Street, and unfor^ 
tonately foU a sserifice to firs. 

Nixon, the painter ^ manv beautiful figurest &e» 

Etans, whose nrinsipal works were a window at Hornsey 
Church, and another at Winchester, 

A viovs aequalntaace, remarkable for the quaint shrewdness 
of his observations, one day, when walking in a garden, 
baviD||f pulled a flower of exquisite loveliness, after e&> 
pressmg» in his own characteristic way, hisadmiratwo of its 
various beauties, took up a clod of the soil in his other band, 
and naively, but emphatically, exclaimed, " What but 
Almighty power coula extract that from this ?" If there 
was anything ludicrous in the manner, there was nothing 
but truth ami sublimity in the sentiment. Everything in 
the operations of the Crestor w worthy of devout admiration, 
bot I scarcely know anything in the inanimate world whieh 
brings togetner and coneentrates so many wonders of de- 
sigmng wisdom and benevolence, as the structure and qua- 
lities (? a flower,— and assuredly not a little is added to the 
surprise and pious feeling with which this delightftil pte- 
duetion is eontemplated, when we think of the enide mate* 
rials ftom which it is elaborated. The beauty oC form and 
colour, the sweetness of the fragrance, the delicate and 
skilful nature of tbe organisation, Sie careful provisions, the 
forethought, tbe contrivance, the suiting of partSt as regards 
the propagation of the species, the adaptations to the sub- 
sistence and enjoyment of the insect tribes,— all produced 
by the artificial union of a few simple and apparently unfit 
substances, cannot fail to excite in tbe reflecting mind, the 
most lively sentiments of astonishment, and to force upon 
it the conviction, that hece^ w'thout doubt, is the fiu^r of 

God, — ^DuNC^if. ^ ^ 




[Fkbrua&y 2Sy 

No. VIII. 

Ths Leydbn Jar. 

Whxnxvbr the electrical equilibrinm of bodies is 
disturbed, both kinds (or states) of electricity, are 
invariably brought into action. And this happens, 
not oaly, as we have on a former occasion mentioned, 
at different parts, or at opposite sides, of any parti- 
cular substance in which a redundancy of electricity 
may be excited or accumulated ; but its influence 
extends to other substances in that vicinity ; although 
the latter be at too great a distance for any actual 
transference to take place. This is termed electrical 
inductioni of which we shall give a brief explana- 

To begin with one of the most simple illustrations 
we can select, let the figures in the margin represent 
discs of tin-foil^ similiar to those on the spiral tube, 

€^...^^ ^.^^ of which a description was lately 
^ ^fvi W^ given*. It will, of course, be 
y \^ V^ understood, that if these discs 
*• *• *• were in contact, and electricity 

communicated to any one of them, it would diffuse 
itself over the whole, in the same manner as if they 
consisted of an entire piece of metal. But the discs 
are not in contact; and consequently, the electricity 
can pass from one to the other, only by penetrating 
the interposed column of air ; which is, indeed, the 
intention of *their being so arranged. If, however, we 
examine this matter a little more attentively, we shall 
find that the electrical relations previously existing 
among these pieces of tin-foil, are affected by mere 
proximity to an electrified body. For example;-— 
Let us suppose the disc marked 1, to represent tiiat 
at the end of the spiral tube already referred to, and 
which first receives the spark from the machine. The 
tube being brought near the conductor, before a 
spark can pass from the latter to the former, the whole 
of the discs, whatever be the number of the series, 
will be electrified by induction ; which means, that the 
electricity, excited and brought into action by the 
machine, and accumulated in the conductor, exercises 
an influence on surrounding objects, although no part 
of the redundant electricity is transferred to any of 
those objects. Supposing the conductor to be 
charged with positive electricity, the disc at the ex- 
tremity of the tube, and all that succeed it, will be 
electrically excited in the following manner, namely, 
that part of the first disc, nearest to the conductor, 
will exhibit negative, and the part most distant posi- 
tive, electricity. This is indicated by the letters n p, 
and is equally applicable to the series, as to any one 
particular disc. The instant a spark passes from the 
conductor to the discs, the induced electricity is dissi- 
pated ; but is again renewed in the interval between 
the passing of each spark, although that interval be 
too brief either to be observed or computed. 
' To render this class of phenomena more intelligible, 
let a in the following figure, represent a body positively 
electrified, near to which are to be placed any conve- 
nient number of insulated conductors, with feathers 
attached to them as at 6 c and d, and the last, as at e 
communicating with the earth. The apparatus being 

• Sea Saturday Magaaint, Vol. XIV., p. 34. 

thus arranged, and a imbued with positive electricity, 
b will instantly become negative, c positive, d negative, 
e positive, and so on throughout the whole series. This 
will be shown by the feathers in each case attracting 
each other ; a result plainly indicating, that they are 
in opposite states of electrical excitation. 

We remark further, that these experiments will be 
still more interesting, if to different parts of a series 
of insulated conductors, we attach pith-balls in pairs ; 
by which we shall ascertain that induced electricity, is 
more active at opposite sides of spherical, and opposite 
ends of elongated conductors, than at any other parts, 
and that its intensity gradually diminishes towai^ 
the centre of such bodies, becoming there entirely 

The effects of electricity, thus operating at a 
distance from the excited body, are not in any degree 
diminished by interposing a third body; provided 
however, that the latter be not liable to have its own 
electrical relations disturbed. A plate of glass, there- 
fore, may be placed between two bodies acting on each 
other inductively, without producing any perceptible 
change in either. 

As induced electricity acts independently of inter- 
posed bodies, its intensity, supposing all other circum- 
stances equal, being determined by the relative sizes 
and distances of the exciting and the excited bodies ; 
so must it be remembered, that its effects cease by the 
removal of the latter. Hence, therefore, supposing 
the spherical body a in the preceding figure, to contain 
a certain quantity of electricity, which operates induc- 
tively upon the insulated conductors, so long as they 
remain within a certahi distance of a and of each other ; 
on removing them, the conductors are immediately 
restored to their former state of neutrality, the sphere 
still retaining the same quantity of electricity that it 
did before the experiment commenced. Thus it will 
appear, that induced electricity, implies that no actual 
interehange, or transference takes place between the 
'bodies subjected to its influence. Nothing is gained 
by one, or lost by the other ^ the only effect being the 
temporary disturbance, accompanied by a different 
arrangement, of the electricity existing in bodies, 
when in their ordinary and unexcited state. We could 
enumerate many other examples, tending to the coa« 
firmation of these views ; but enough, we think, has 
been said, to prepare the way for understanding the 
principle and the method of using the Leyiien Jmrg 
which has been the chief design of oui somewhat 
lengthened remarks on electrical induction. 

In the instances of induced electricity just men- 
tioned, it will be observed, that the exciting, as well 
as the excited bodies are conductors, and the medium 
through which the excitation is communicated, is an 
imperfect conductor ; the latter consisting of the air 
interposed between the two former. Now although 
this, or any other particular arrangement, is not 
indispensable to the existence of the phenomena, yet it 
is necessary in every case that a non-conducting, or at 
any rate, an imperfectly-conducting substance should 
be present. 

To illustrate this by experiment, let us take a pane 
of window glass, clean and dry, and if one side of it be 
rubbed briskly with a warm and dry silk handkerehief» 
both sides will become electrically excited. This may 

be ascertained by presenting to the 
side which has not been rubbed, a 
small pith-ball, suspended by a silk 
thread, when St will be attracted by 
the glass j and then if it be imme- 
diately presented to the side which 
hoe been rubbed, the same ball will 
be repelled } r proof, not only that 




electricity is diffused over both sides of the glass^ 
but also that the electricity on one side is positive and 
on the other negative. 

The same results^ but with greatly-increased action, 
will follow, if one side of the glass be held near the 
conductor of an electrical machine, taking care, how- 
ever, whilst this is done, to pass the finger gently 
backwards and forwards over .the other side, other- 
wise the glass will receive only a very feeble charge. 
In this case sparks will pass 'from one side to tiie 
other of the glass, which will have the appearance of 
penetrating it ; they are occasioned by the sudden 
discharge of the accumulated electricity over the 
edges of, not through, the glass. 

In both these experiments we 'have examples of 
electrical induction, which takes place through the 
substance of the glass ; in the first, the side rubbed 
with silk is charged with positive, and the other, of 
course, with negative electricity; and, in the second, 
supposing the positive conductor to have been em- 
ployed, the arrangement will be the same. 
Now let us advance a step further. 
Glass, it is well known, is a non-conductor, and 
hence it is difficult to diffuse electricity equally over 
every part of its surface ; and, supposing that to be 
done, we find it just as difficult to disengage the elec- 
tricity from the glass again, that is, in such a way as to 
serve any useful purpose. Bat these objects are fully 

attained by covering the glass 
on both sides with tin-foil, which 
must not, however, reach to 
within about two inches of the 
edges, as represented in the ac- 
companying figure. 

A pane of glass thus coated 
J and charged with electricity, by 
placing one side of it near the 
ciHiductor, in the manner just now directed, if we 
make the tin- foil on its opposite sides to communi- 
cate with each other, a sharp report is heard, accom- 
panied by a bright spark, indicating that the accu- 
mulated electricity has been dissipated, and both sides 
of the glass restored to their former state of equi- 

Let it be particularly noticed, that the use of the 
tin-foil is to enable us to diffuse electricity uniformly 
over the surface of the glass, and having done so, to 
recover the whole of it again whenever we please, 
giving it any required direction in a condensed,' or 
rather an accumulated form. The thin coating of 
metal in contact with the glass, performs only the 
office of a conductor ; for it is possible to remove it 
without dissipating any of the electricity, which 
adheres to the glass, not to the metaL 

But although a pane of glass may do for an illus- 
trative experiment, it is difficult to manage, very 
liable to be broken, and capable of receiving and 
retaining only a feeble charge, and, therefore, not 
adapted for general use. 

Here is a figure of the Leyden Jar, the most con- 
venient form in which we can employ coated glass. 

It consists of a vessel, similar to 
those used as show-glasses by 
confectioners, coated on both 
sides, to within about four inches 
of the top, with tin-foiL The jar, 
as here drawn, haS a cover of 
mahogany, or other hard wood, 
through the centre of which 
passes a brass rod, terminating 
above by a ball of the same 
metal, and below by a chain 
readiing to the bottom of the jar. 

Leyden i^ars, fitted up as just described, are very 
portable, but are not the most useful; we prefer 
them without any cover. In our next paper we shall 
give instructions for constructing them on our own 
plan, as we shall also for performing, by their aid, 
some very beautiful experiments. 


NoTHiNO gives me greater pleasure in a country walk than 
to hear a bee buzxing by my ear. as I pass a cottage fence. 
A row of bees is a sign the owner takes pleasure in his 
home. And a word of advice to such a man is likely to 
come to good. 

In the first place, Never kill your Bees. In.France» 
Germany, and Switzerland, they never kill their bees. 

In some places they make straw hives, with the top to 
take off, and fasten it down with wooden pegs : in July 
they pull out the pegs, and with a large knife cut away the 
top of the hive from the comb, and cut out what honey the 
bees can spare, never caring for those flying about their 
heads ; for they will not touch them if thev have a pipe in 
their mouth. Aiid when they have helped themselves 
they peg the top down again ; and the bees will gather 
enough in August and September fior the winter. 

Others put a large hive on the top of a strong stock, in 
May, which prevents their swarming; and this hive they 
take off when full. Others turn up their hives in July and 
August, and cut out some combs. Others put wooden 
boxes on one another, putting empty boxes below, and 
taking away full ones from the top. 

I saw a doctor in Switzerland take honey from twelve 
hives : he got fifteen pounds ttom each. The better way 
is such as is now practising by the Bee Society at Oxford. 

You may find funguses, called puff-balls ; when ripe they 
give out a powder like smoke ; pick them when half ripe* 
(the largest are the best,) and dry them ; the (ungus is fit 
for use when it will hold fire like tinder. ICeep them till 
yuu take your bees. 

In autumn weigh your hives— mark those which are the 
heaviest and lightest; this you cannot rightly do unlesa 
you weigh them before you put your swarms in, and mark 
the weight outside. Ca^ts, except they are veiy early and 
strong, will scarcely stand the winter. 

When the honey season is over, stop up over night those 
you mean to take up. In the morning take' a piece of the 
fungus, twice as big as a hen*8 egg ; put it in a stick, split 
at one end and sharp at the other : have a hive as large as 
that you mean to take up, fixed bottom upwards, (a pail 
will hold it well). Then liffht your fimgus, and fix the 
sharp end in the hive vou have turned topsy-turvy, and 
place the hive you intend to take on the top of it, and tie a 
wet cloth round the two hives, that no smoke may get out; 
You will soon hear the bees drop down : and tap the top of 
the full hive to make the bees fall quicker. When tney 
are all quiet, lift the full hive off, and turn all the bees that 
have fallen on a table, and they will get well again in 
twenty minutes. Look for the Queen Bee, keep her safe, 
and sweep all the other bees back into the empty hive ; then 
cut the combs out carefully, and if you have not already 
found the Queen, it is likely that you will find her at the 
top of the hive. 

Sweep the bees with a feather back into the hive out of 
which you have taken the combs. 

As soon as the bees begin to crawl about, take a hive 
which is strong enough to stand the winter, or though heavy, 
weak in bees; stop it up the night before, and put it gently 
on the empty hive where the smoked one stood before, 
keeping the bees asunder with coarse canvass, or a sheet of. 
thick paper with pin holes ; a sheet of tin, punched with 
holes, the sixteenth of an inch over, is best of all. Keep the 
bees for twenty-four hours apart 

On the evening of the second day, draw away the tin, 
paper, or canvass, without disturbing the hives, tap the 
empty hive^ and the bees which have »9r|;otten their queen 
which' you have taken away, will go up mto the full hive, 
as if they belonged to one swarm. 

Early the next morning, when all is quiet, set the doubled 
hive back in its old place ; if vou pull away the tin too soon 
the bees will fight terribly ana kill manyi and perhaps their 
queen; for fear of this you must take care of the queen you 
smoked. ; 

The next day, after the stock has been put back to its own 
place, put this queen to the mouth of your double hive, and 

70 tBB SATUIU>A\ HAGAZmB. [Pebrtiart 3t, 

if any aeeident hat happenad to thair own qtiMD, thej will room or out-liouH. Put jo}Xt beei Uiore the lut »eek in 

gladlj tabs the atraDfjar to reign over them. November, and lat them sleep quietly till the tiowan bc^in 

Jf you put a tin cover, like an «xtii)gui»beT with holsi in to come out— the end of February. 

it, over your lii^led fungua, it will prevent any of tba bees Put tbeii bottom boards sloping, that all the wet may run 

being buinL This way of smoking U very uieful to unite out of tbe door, or atiU better uaug them up in a coan* 

a cast to a itock which ia weak, in which case you should cloth. Weigh them before you put them away and wfaen 

smoke both ; pick out one queen and put all the stupid yon bring ttuin out, and you will find them much strong 

bees into one hive that has some oomb ready made, and aa well a* heavier than tboae you leave en their Bummet 

aprinkle them over with a little augar and baer. They will itanda. If you bare no spare rooin or out-houaa. pariup 

take to one another when tbay have helped each other to your neighbour has, and would do you tbe kindiKM I* I 

clean off tbe sugar with their tongues. let you make um of it ; wfaich would make good the gulden I 

The fact of helping each other in their trouble makes rule of doing as you would be done by. 

them good friends. In old time, a man to begin would borrow a Bwarm, to be 

Even if yau are lucky enough to have none weak, always repaid a year or two after, with Ave or ten pounda of faooej 

unite your casts in a hive, which, though strong, has plenty tor interest. 

of r<Mm;^or fAa tame number nf btet vill domoregood If more cottagers kept bee* muoh honey now wasted 

together than they vili in two hivet. would ha saved. 32,000'. worth of wax, bcaida honey, ii 

The most wonderful thing is, that a double hive will eat now yearly imported ; and every sixpauco of this (night go 

DO more honey in Winter than a single one ; the reason amongst our own coUagera. 

■eema that where there are many beas in a hive, they can The Uowers too are tne better for the bonev being taken; 

keep themselvea warm bv hanging close together instead sa the beea cany the dust on their legs trom flower to flowsr. 

of eating. So that in a full hive tbe same qtiantity of honey And I heard s rarmer say, his orchard bore double the eran 

goes farther than in a weak hive, aaeocA beeeatt leu (jnst it had done before he took to bees. One place may bagcod 

>a eattla well housed require losa fbod than when ezpoaed for hees in Spring Dear meadows and Lme-trseai and 

to wind and rain), anothec in Autumn, uaartwmmoiu, when heather'- '-*-' — 

Have all vour hives of the same uxe, and make them In Switierlaod you may often sea a man trudging sp 
all with a hole at tbe lopt an iocb over, with a bung to lit the mountains with a hive of bees on his back. 

into it. I must repeat, Never kill a bee. Let this be your goldni 

Capping. — In May, when your hives get full of bees rule, and it will prove a golden rule to you in more thaa 

tnd they hegin to hang out, put a small straw hive which one sense. 

will bold ten pounds of honey, on ihetepof the strong hive, Be kind to yourbecs,treat them tike reasonable creature^ 

4nd pull the bung out, with a bit of glass worked into the and they will fully rspay your kindnesi. A twe is a ow- 

Straw, ao that you may see when it i* full, (a glass, if you year bird ; all that are batched this yeor die the next, aUul 

can aSbrd it, is prettier.) The bees will sometimes Qll this July or August, after tbcv have iiuised up tlw young 

in a week; takeitoffdiractlyitis full; it will be white honey, ones. So that ail the bees burnt in September are of (hat 

and sell better tluui that taken on the old plan in September, year's brood, ready and willing to work for you next Spiisg. 

Theae little caps will giv« room for the Iteea to work, who A Clergyman in Switzerland had one slock 60 year». by 

VDuld otherwise be idle, waiting for awarming. turning up the hive every yeor, and cutting out part of iIh 

i have bad them bang out for a month togelher, and not old black comb, which the bees replaced with new comb. To 

miyvaltlMJuiie. but tlieotherbaasareijrced to feed them, cover straw hives with thick white-wash is good. The ttr)' 

Tbii SMf must not be larger than I have (old you, for if backle sometimes harbours a mouse, which gnaws ihruuKh 

largw you will malu it so much enolti, thay uill not swarm ^^ '^'ve and eats the honey within, which you may dislodgt 

•t all i and if larg«, th« quean will lay her egga tbore, and with your magic /einptu. 

jou will And black combs iuatead of honey. And if moths attack your hive, cut out the combs whitk 

This ia thoMaiest plan, till you have eot your stock up to have the grubs of the moth in them. Defend your bnsi 

ka foil numbw. Then it ia mora ptoQtable to prevent their ''mm moths and wasps by narroaing tlw duor-way vbM 

•warming. they are about! they teach you what they want bv buildisl 

Paw couagw* kMp enough beaa. There ia hardly up huh) pillars of wax in the door-way. If robbers bsvs 

mOK tronbta in takiag care of twenty than of two stocks. Uken a hive, use your fungus directly, and join your ben 

In Germany 1 aaw a man who had two hundred hives, to some hive which wants strengthening, and keep tbcn 

•od I wish lo iboir you bow to make tbe most of a good >hut up two days till they get friends. 

JW. Get a air quantity in a middling vear, and not lose None but Ihe poor ones rob. 

■11 your baaa in a bad year, SSO lb. has been taken from a Aed Done but ih« weak are robbed ; 

good atoek without btiniog lb* beaa, whilst tbe heaviest Uniie rear weali hire*, 

cottagcbive I hare haatd of was under 100 lb. And feed your poor ones. 

Ibavaaaid it iabMt to pravuit swarming; the reaaoni^ You something, butwarTPWindifirf 

Ihe quMi be. Uy- fiom tw thousand, to thirty thousand gi,„ ;„ /^jj i J, SpringrwrnbTra^-terSrwiLZ 

S? f "^ '.f!5 .i» • .*«^,««'»«''«'B lb«e tbouwind ^b,„gea; and feed yotirbSs for two oVtbree X.^rSfl 

hwa, almost aU of tbent ui muidling yaara wiU be buay in have swarmed ; it saves time in getting tbe comb. inadT 

mirsinf tba gnbs; for tbey w» "?*'. K<^ nwrther*. they You do not waste your honey Zy feeJing, for you wiU to* 

tiuBk U tb«r Brst duty to ibad their yoilDg: guheriug , j^^ where you gave a quart. ' 

hoiiey w their second. -.t. u , Sometimes feedhig in dry, hot WMthar will save the im 

A swarm 80«a Off: you h««t»oqil«M.wrtb each 3000 of tbe grub., their ^y-nur«. cannot then fc«l. Airtao" 

bees, busy in rearing the egn which tba quAous Uy all hading should not be oonbniied after ScHMnben mtiA 

through a«i Summer. ThayV, n., ««»!«« togaiber yZr ^ivX Zt^^TSf^TtiZl^nO^fZ 

bouay. Bom»6Bdy*«r.>alockwithpl«at¥of beeawdl U it »U up safe and handy, 

be almoat witbont bowy wtuti );«« t^" " Autumn; ud 'Never press your eombs,'let the honey drain from Ibep! 

■ometimH die in SumDWr if pot W. , ^ , so you will get clear honey ; when all has run out «**» tl» 

Now If you prevent awarauog by pwiag OtMf rf ronn. eoiiba. yourW want food in summer, whan they will cksr 

MOO bae. who wera bafiMDuraaalB^gruWafoiia oumu, «,^ f/, ^^ „d „ ,, y^ too. Again I aay 1« nocbiogb* 

»ill be enough to do tba wuauig-vailt tt tba hiv* tbaiigb .^^^j jf y^ (bad will hear and sugar, do not put mora 

•o much larger, for each bu Mly DM qilMa. Andooi. Uian «w pound of »UJ{at»ilb a quart of beer; n.^ boil il 

queen cannot lay eggs aoougb to require uwM Hums. The ^„„ thwiflve miautei. 

other 3000 wUl .tore buney br you m tha f pm worn y«i y [tp tees sting you, pull out tbe sting, squeese out ths 

give them-whieh you nay tok* , ^ .. . ..„ poison with tbe pipe of a small key, and put a Uttto hooey 

Wooden bottom. [ mtmt to ilffH or aUtfcwhieh ao^lll ^ „ k^ep away the air, and if done at flnt tba .wallias 

the bees which oome down on them in th« waatat, th«f often ^iU generally be a mere nothing, 

cannot get baek-«id tba harder tiw««>d tbe b«*r. An old writerMiys. if tbou wUt have the favm of thy hees 

If tt«s ar. left out fronting tta «in w Wwttr, my fine be deanly in tby person, and do not ameU of leeka, « ih. 

day umpu them out ; Aey «nd .otkni out, end foUim ij^ ^, i^^.vy .,;, juaong.t then ; but aoftly tnoving thj 

hungry; and many «biUad fay a ealdviaduvMairauhMk. band before thy fe«. put ibem awa^ 

You inay see hundred, round your hives; if you pick them Bj;member,nabing worth doing can be done withoui a 

up and warm them in your haud tbay will revive; which ,mia ,rouble, and above all, help each other aU vou can. 
■bowa they dn of eoU, not suknass. 

The beat phu» to put beei ia Wintu U ft (^t ilarii, eoU [!na the B«v, Vf. S,,Conoti's Utur te Cfti^m.} 





II. Justs and Toxtrnamcnts. 

Ji78Ta and Totirnaments ! How many recollections 
of Knights and Ladies — the former always hrave^ 
and the latter always fair — do these terms call up I 
They formed the very life of the chivalric ages» when 
the cessation of actual war allowed the knights time 
for a peacefal display of their prowess* 

Tournaments and Justs^ though often confounded 
with one another, differed considerably. The tour- 
nament was a conflict between many knights, divided 
into parties, and engaged at the same time. The 
just or joust was a separate trial of skill, when one 
man was opposed to another. The just was frequently 
inclnded in the tournament, but not always. In the 
romantic ages both these diversions were held in the 
highest esteem, being sanctioned by the countenance 
and example of the nobility, and prohibited to all 
below the rank of an esqdire. 

A sort of Tournament, under the name of the 
Troy game, was practised among the Romans, in 
which the Roman youths used to exercise themselves 
in partisan encounters* But the real modern tourna- 
ment appears to have sprung up about the ninth or 
tenth century, and was introduced in England shortly 
after the Norman conquest. Fitcstephen, a writer 
living about that period says, that every Sunday in 
Lent it was customary, immediately after dinner, for 
great crowds of young Londoners, mounted on war 
borseSf well trained, to perform the necessary turnings 
and evolutions, to ride into the fields in distinct bands, 
armed with shields and headless lances, where they 
exhibited the representation of battles, and went 
through a variety of warlike exercises. Many of the 
young noblemen who had not attained the honour of 
knighthood, came from the king's court, and from 
the houses of the great barons, to try their skill in 
arms. Hie youth Mng divided into opposite compa- 
nies, encountered one another: in one place they 
fled, and other* pursued, without being able to over* 
tske them ^ in another place one of the bands came 
up to and overturned the other, and so on. 

There was a kind of Justing called the earn yarns, 
which is sftid to have had its origin Arom the following 
circumstance. Richard Gmur do Lion, being at 
Messina in Sleilyi on his way to the Holy Land, went 
with his cavalcade on Sunday afternoon, to see the 
popukr sports exhibited without the walls of the 
city, and, <m their return they met in the street a 
rustle, driving w ass, loaded with hollow canes. 
The king and his attendants took each of them a 
Mtie, and began, by way of froUc, to tilt or Just with 
them, one a^nsl Mother ; and it so happened that 
the king's opponent was William de Barres, a knight 
of high rank in the household of the French king. 
In the encounter they broke both their caties, and 
the monarch*s hood was torn by the stroke he 
received, which made him angry; when riding with 
great force against the knight, he caused his horse to 
stumble with him, and while tike king was attempting 
to cast the knight to the ground, his own saddle 
turned round, and he himself Was overthrown* He 
was soon provided with another horse, stronger than 
the former, which he mounled» and agodn assailed de 
Barres, endeavouring by violeiice to throw him from 
his horse, hut he could not, because the knight dung 
hst to the horse's neck« Ail this incensed the 
monarch so much, that nt the temfaiatioil of the 
conflict, he vowed enmity agaitvait de Bintflt, and was 
with difficulty appeased by the French king. From 
this singular conflict arose a custom of justing with 
hollow canes. 

In early times it waa customary in England for a 
monarch or a nobleman to entertain many knights at 
his table, and make justs form a part of the daily 
routine. King Arthur's round table, was, according 
to tradition, the board at which a fraternity of valiant 
knights ate together in friendly communion, after 
their justs, and in order to set aside all distinctioir of 
rank or quality, seated themselves at a circular table, 
where every place was equally honourable. Roger de 
Mortimer, a nobleman in the reign of Edward I., 
established a round table at Kenilworth, for the en- 
couragement of militory pastimes) where one hun- 
dred knights, with as many ladies, were entertained 
at his expense. The fame of this institution occasioned 
a great influx of foreigners, who came either to 
initiate themselves, or to make some public proof of 
their prowess. 

About seventy years afterwards, Edward III^ 
erected a splendid table of the same kind at Windsor^ 
but upon a more extensive scale. It contained the 
area of a circle two hundred feet in diameter, and the 
weekly expense for the maintenance of the table, when 
it was first established, amounted to one hundred 
pounds, which was afterwards reduced to twenty 
pounds, on account of large sums of money required 
for the prosecution of the war with France. This 
receptacle for military men gave continual occasion 
for the exercise of arms, and afforded to the young 
nobility an opportunity of learning, by way of pastime, 
all the requisites of a soldier. 

In the justs, the combatants generally used spears 
without iron heads | and the excellence of the per- 
formance consisted in striking the opponent upon 
the front of his helmet, so as to beat him backwards 
from his horse, or break the spear. Froissart mentions 
a trick used by Reynaud de Roy, at a tilting-match 
between him and John de Holland. He fastened his 
helmet so slightly upon his head that it gave way, 
and was beaten off by every stroke that was made 
upon the visor with the lance of his opponent, and 
of course the shock he received, was not so great as it 
would have been, had he made- the helmet fast to the 
cuirass. This artifice was objected to by the English, 
but John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, who was pre- 
sent, permitted Roy to use. his pleasure i though he 
at the same time declared that for his psrt he should 
pnsfer a contrary practice, and have his helmet 
fastened as strongly as possible. 

The tournaments were conducted with great form 
and ceremony. The two barons, whose knights were 
to form the opposing parties in the tournament, were 
to appear at their pavilions at either end of the bar* 
tier two days before ihe commencement of the cere- 
mony $ when each of them had to cause his arms to 
be attached to his pavilion, and to set up his banner j 
and all those who wished to be admitted as com- 
batants on either side, were in like manner to set up 
their arms and banners in the stations allotted for 
them. Upon the evening of the same day they were 
enjoined to show themselves at their sUtions, and 
to expose their helmets to view at the windows of the 
pavilion. On the following day the champions were 
to be at their parade by ten o'clock in the morning, 
to await the commaoda of the governor or baron, and 
on this occasion the prises of honour were determined. 
On the morning of the day appointed for the tour- 
nament, the arms, banners, and helmets of all the 
combatants were exposed at their stations, when 
certain persons were appointed to examine them, and 
approve or rej^ them at their pleasure. The exami- 
nation being finished, and the arms returned to the 
owners, the baron who was the challenger then caused 
hiM baimer to be unfurled, and his arms to be nailed 


[FcBKViiST 23, 183 

to hia ptrillon ; and asj knight vho ma not at bla 
■Ution at thia monieDt, ma not permitted to join in 
the approaching encbnoter. The kinga at arms and 
the heralds then went from pavilion to pavilion, 
crying aloud " To achievement, knights and sqnires, 
to Achievement ! " When the two barons had taken 
their places in the lists or barrier, the championa or 
combatants of both parties arranged themselves, every 
one by the Bide of his banner. In this position they 
remained until the signal for the encounter was given. 

The description of all the various events of a tonr- 
nament has been so vividly and so frequently given by 
historians, poets, novelists, and dramatists, that we 
need not dwell npon them. The charge of the knighta, 
the nnhoraing of some Inckless combatant, the 
shivering of knees, the blowingof the trumpets, and 
the apjirohation of the ladies who witnessed the con- 
flict, have fanned the theme of many a narrative. In 
the days of chivalry the justs were usually made in 
honour of ladies, who presided as judges paramOnnt 
over the sports, and whose determinations were in all 
cases decisive. Hence, in the spirit of romance, 
arose the necessity for every "true knight" to have 
a favourite fair one, who was not only esteemed by 
him the paragon of beauty and of virtue, but supplied 
the place of a tutelar saint, to whom he paid his vowa, 
and addressed himself in the hour of peril ; for it 
seems. to have been an establiahed doctrine that love 
made valour, perfect, and incited heroet to nndertake 
great enterprises. 

In the caae.of a tournament where aeveral com* 
butanta contended for a prize, anch aa a rich aword, 
&c., the combatants, after the termmation of the con~ 
flict, met in the evening at some place appointed for 
the purpose, when ttfey were jcnned by the ladies and 
by others of the nobili^, who had been spectators of 
the sports, and the time we are told was passed in 
feasting, iancing, singing, and merry-malcing. After 
this the heralds were called together, and were required 
to give the names of those combatants who had most 
signalized themselves. The double Ust of names, 
(that is one for each party) was then presented to 
Uie ladies who had been present at the pastime, and 
the decision was referred to them respecting the 
awardment of the prizes. The arbitera selected one 
name for each party, and, as a peculiar marit of their 
esteem, the favourite champions received the rewards 
of their merit from the hands of two yonng virgins of 
quality. If a knight conducted himself with any im- 
propriety in a tournament, or transgressed the ordi- 
nances of the sport, he was excluded from the lists, 
with the addition of a sound beating, which was libe- 
rally bestowed upon bim by the odier knights with 
their truucheone, to punish his temerity, and to teach 

him to respect the honour of the ladies and t 
ri^ts of chivalrr. The unfortunate culprit bad : 
oUier resource in such cases than that of anpplicati 
the mercy of the ladies who were to be the judgi 
and humbly entreating them to interpose their 8u£ 
rity' in his behalf, because the suspension of 1 
punishment depended entirely upon their in tercesido 

It may readily be supposed that sncb excitii 
scenes as these were not without their effects on tl 
humhlei classes of the community, and that the latt 
endeavoured to emulate, in some mde manner, tl 
justs and tournaments of their superiors. There s 
in existence some old manuscripts, in which are r 
preaentationa of a vtJgar kind- of tonmament, pe 
formed on the water, as in the accompanying ct 
Two boats have a platform in the middle of each, ai 
on this platform is situated a man armed with a lant 
or with something to serve the purpose of a lane 
The rowers in the boats bring the two combatan 
within reach of each other'a lances, and tha conte 
consists in an endeavour on the part of each one 
overturn the other into the river. When Qua 
Elizabeth was at Sandwich, ahe was entertained wi 
a water- tournament of this kind, at which; it is sai 
she was highly amused. 

The children of the nobility used to hnve woodi 
horses, and combatants also of wood, monnted i 
wheels, and the figures representing Uie riders we 
purposely placed upon the horses in a very insecu 
manner. Each figure had a lance in its hanid, and ea- 
aaaemblage, — man, horse, and all,— was dnwn by 
Btring. The contest was to upset the wooden warxiG 
in the same way as " children of a larger growtl 
were wont to do with warriors of realfleah and bloo 

Sometimes children of the huinbkr classes wou 
have a mock tournament on the ice, making tbi 
own legs supply the place of horses, and dubbing 
stout stick with all the honours of the lance. 

When the political condition of Europe, and esp 
cially the establishment of walled and commerc: 
cities and towns, had brought the age of chivalry tc 
conclusion, justs and tournaments died at the sac 
time. When armed knights laid aside their armo 
and their steel helmets, and the romantic spirit whi- 
sprung up with the Crusades had ceased to ezii 
there was no longer that tone of feeling which led 
a love of that emnlative contest, which formed tl 
pith and marrow of tournaments. We must n- 
forget however, that the age of chivalry, and tl 
tournaments incidental to it, formed one of the meaa 
by which the female sex was elevated from the .roes 
position in which earlier ages had found them, an 
paved the way to that more just appreciation of lb 
sex, which is a sure mark of civilization. 

LOyCONi Publiibed b| JOHN WILLIAM PAilKER, Win Strahd} indsold brail Boc&Mllsih 

gaturHai^ Mntid^^im* 

\9 427. SUPPLEMENT. 

FEBRUARY, 1839. {q^J 



w Dikmg obiervatioiia upon tfae he&veni, and the f^Iobei 
Wi Hilt and move about in them, the beholder, whttthor 
'itnrj or teleicopio, hu hit attention arretted at one 
M* by the apparant tiie, — at another time by the bright- 
Wr- then agkin bj the colour, — then by the t^arkline, — 
Mn by the iteady light of the celeitial object of hit 
■ion: — theie circumitances, one or mors, are fbund to 
pplf to the planets ipoken of in out aecond paper, and 
kJcwite lo the remainiog planett, of which we are now 
bout to tpeak. But most curiout and tingulat above all, 
<iIm Rmo ov Satckw. To thit nothing like or limilar 
fcnnd in the celeitial creation; and so forciblj were we 
nek with thit cootideration, that WB were led to aaiunie 
uvDnderful appearance, at our ftontiiptece, though, in 
>h, it it the lett but one of the planett to be treated of. 
Itulonithei ut that attar thould b« found at allencom- 
Hud, and itill mora doei it aitonith ut that thero thould 
I but one itar, as far at our ken hat enabled us to judge, 
bich hat to elegant, but mytterioui, an ornament. Itt 
thin and utesaremattersof tpeculation, and eatily occur, 
> varranted by fancy, to the mind of the reader of Astro- 
<nr; but when the reader finds that there it a planet be- 
<M Saturn, which not only hat no ring, but even a tmaller 
'iiBiber of mooni than Saturn, he will feel himielf punted 
° iMount for thit teeming discrepancy in the regulation 
f U>e planetary globes by &b Author of Good, ndett he 
niimbar for a moment that full obterrationt have not yet 
■MB (Dade on the planet Hertctael, or Uranns, owing to its 
»UDie distance, and the oomparatiTe imperfection of the 
*i|nin]entt of man. To thit we may append the eontide- 
vin, that, by meant intomtable to ni, toe Almigb^ ba* 
* >! probability compamated to othor globes the dellcieii' 
*• *bich their greater di*l«iM« haa ooeaaioned them. 
nil consideration will apply likowiie to the oironmttanea 
■ u moon being found to revolTO nund the planet Han, 
'M It farther ftom the Son .than the Earth : but here, 
^ unttitutiaa of ita atmoaphere ia probably auoht that to 
■■■d t(4ar light ii ahaotbed and renaoted. that lunar or 
■bttcd light ia not IbiiDd wanting. But we cannot aSbtd 
"jjigeranyjonger in the tagiooiof ■poculatioQi let na 


Taita mnd'HoK conrte, now hi^ h, now low, iLen hid, 

pTOfrewTg, retrafiada, arilindini Mill. 

In HI ihou leeit.i ■■ .Miitob'i Par. Lcit, book. Tiii, 

Bktokx we enter into the details of the planett, whot* 
orhiti are without that of the Earth, we have to notie* a 
peculiarity in their motioni, at teen from the Earth, which 
retultt fhnn the circular or elliptical form of their orbits, 
combined with tbeannual motion of the Earth. We allnded 
to thit at Vol. XIII., p. 134. 

When a planet appears to move from the neiKhhonrhood 
of any fixed start, towardt othert which lie to the east, its 
motion it called direct, becauie the planets more round tlw 
Sun from west to eatt. When a planet teems to mova 
towards the start which lie wettward, its motion is taid to 
be retrogradt : and, at other timet, it appeara to be $lali<moiy. 

Now, as the planet it, iu fact, conttantly moving round 
the Sun, at itt centre, it ia tsid to have the three tbregotng 
motions, which will be easily apprehended by the aceon- 
panying diagram (6g. 34). :■ 

Suppose a planet to revolve round the Sun tnm west by 
touth to east, according to the lettera a, b, c, &e. When 
the planet is to tituated, that a line from the centre of 
the Earth will grtue that part of the orbit where the planet 
it tituated, the planet'i motion it said to be ttationanf, as 
at 6 c and fff. The planet is then approaching to, or 
receding Axim, the Earth. When the planet ia fkrthett 
from the Earth,, it has itt natural or direct motion, as ftrom 
d to «. But when the planet it nsarett to the Earth, as at 
a, ita motion it termed retrograde, beeaute, owing to tba 
motion of the Earth in tiw, wme diroction, it toema to go 
back in iti eouno. 




tnoEt of the otlwr pUneU. This ruddioeu ii believed (a Jofned together farm the ^fifom phase. Thw 

bedue to upeouliareonititntlonoritietmoipheie; whereby timet apneart gibboui, (u thown in fig. SS 

it absorb* all the cempoiieat puti of the lolu njri but the creHent-rornie<); m he would if he reralvef 
led, which it refiects> 

Berth's orbit: he appear* nearly five times aa 
time as he doe* at another, on scoount uf ' 
much Dearer to the Earth when the Earth ia b 
and the Sun, than when the Sun ii between 1 
Earth. Wlien at hi* rartheat diHtance from t 
subtends an ansle of 4', and when at his eret 
an angle of w', and the inoliDBtion of lus 
plane of tlie ecliptic is 1° il'. 

The mean diameter of this planet is about 4183 miles, 
beins rather more than half the diameter of the Eartb. 
Hi* form is that of an oblate spheroid, which is occasioned 
hjbis rotation on his axis, and Is much more flattened than 
that of the Eatth.hiB neater diameter being to his smaller 
as 16 to 15. He rsTolres round the Bun In an orbit which 
ia, at the mean distance, about M4 mltlion* of mites fivm 
the Sun : this orbit he tfarel* round in about 687 of our 
days with a velecitj of fifty-tbTee thousand milei (n an 
hour. We say our days, in order not to confbund them 
with the day of Mars ; for, as he rotates on hts own axis 
in about 24 hours 39 minutes, hi* day i* rather longer than 
ours, so thtttthe period of hi* revolntion i* about 868 of his 
days. His rotation on his axis i* ettimated by permanent 
spots on bis disk, which appeu to be mountains u shown 
in the figure above. 

There are some cirenmBtaneei In ths appearance of 
Mars which confirm Uia statement that bis orbit is exterior 
to that of the Earth. The appeuanoe which be com- 
monly preaents is gibbous. This phase may bo illustrated 
by the fbllowing figure, \aab. Here wo see that a as 
is K semicircle, »nd tbat a ( s ti^ gf m tllipse; tiiwe 

This planet is about oneHeTenth of the si/e 
end is supposed to sejoy about half the liRht 
wo have, but in a aimilar prapertien tbrgugh 



from the circumstance that bis axis is inclined to the plane 
of the ecliptic, nearly at a like angle with the Earth's, 
though ho is much farther off from the Sun. 

The matter, of which this planet is composed, is about 
one -fourth li^^hter than that of the Earth. His rotation 
on his axis, as determined by the motion of certain spots on 
bis surface, is found out in the same way as was before ex- 
plained concerning the Sun. See Vol. XIII.p p. 34. 

No moon has ever been found to accompany this planet; 
though, being farther from the Sun than the Earth, it 
would seem to stand more in need of a luminous auxiliary. 
But. by means of a good telescope, the poles, or extremities 
df the rotating parts of this planet, are observed to present 
a white appeai'ance, which becomes fainter when the pole, 
in the course of the planet's orbit, is turned to the Sun, 
and more decided when inclined away. These white spots 
are naturally enough considered to be polar snows, which 
disappear at the parts of the planet which have been for 
^ome time exposed to the Sun, while in the mean time 
they reappear at the other part; the former being the 
Bummer, the latter the Winter, of Mars. 

The axis of Mars is inclined to the ecliptic at an angle 
of about 30^^ The Earth and Moon would appear like 
moons to Mars ; but, being in an orbit between Mars and 
tlic Sunt would never appear quite full. 


Until toe present century, Jupiter was always considered 
to be the planet next in order of distance to Mars ; but, 
ftince the commencement of this century, four little planets 
called Asteroids, because they had the appearance of stars, 
have been discovered, all of which are farther from the 
Sun than Mars, but less remote than Jupiter. These 
asteroids, or small planets, are called Vesta, Ceixis, Pallas, 
and Juno, names of celebrated heathen deities of the 
feminine gender. 

Vesta was discovered in 1807 by Dr. Olbcrs, an eminent 
German philosopher. It is supposed to be not more than 
238 miles in diameter, though this is not yet considered as 
wttled: its mean distance from tho Sun is about 225 
uillioni of miles, and it travels through its orbit round the 
8uu in about 1136 of our days : whether it revolves on its 
axil is not yet known, on account of its small dimensions. 
Tbii planet was discovered last of the four, but is nearer to 
Mars than the otlien. 

Cerei is about 285 millions of miles from the Sun, and 
u about 1760 miles in diameter: it takes about 1680 days 
to revolve in its orbit round the Sun. M. Piazzi, of Pa- 
lermo, in Sicily, discovered this planet on the first day of 
tlus century ; it appears hke a star of the eighth magnitude, 
uid hai a ruddy colour. 

Pallas is about as far as Ceres from the Sun, and goes 
nund him in about four years and eight months. This 
planet is stated to be rather smaller than the Moon in size, 
it WIS discovered by Dr. Olbers in 1802. 

Juoo's distance from the Sun is about 30 i millions of 
ftiles, and it revolves round the Sun in about four years 
lod [bur months : the diameter has been stated at about 
IMC miles. Its apparent size is similar to that of Ceres. 
It vu discovered by M. Harding of Lilienthal, in 1804. 

In speaking of these little planets, it is necessary for us 
to nmark that any statements as to their diameters are not 
Aick lo be depended upon: the extremely small diameters 
vUeIi ibev present to the eye deprive Uie astronomer of 
■Mb of taa groundwork on which he builds his calcula- 
Hm. In fiietv not only are these planets not seen with the 
Mhid 9f% but they cannot be observed at ail, except with 
tbfwy beat instnimeBts. It is well known that the ap- 
HBuna «f tiM largest and brightest of them, as seen 
tUagfa the instrnments at the Greenwich Observatory, is 
Niyuaiitar to that of stars of the aiath magnitude; and, 
vka oaf ooo of ^Mie planets is among atars of such mag- 
MMib it ta impossiUo to distinguish the planet from the 
tfHs; ud at hat o&eo oocmved that one of the fizod stara 
h«baan takon ftr the pianotand observed for a good while 

together, and just at the distance from the Sun at which 
a new planet might be expected to lie: it is supposed, 
therefore, by some philosophers, that these four small 
planets are fragments of a larger planet which once moved 
in an orbit nearly coincident with the general position of 
these Uttlo planets. What mighty convulsion of Nature 
could have produced such a catastrophe, we can only con- 
jecture: nothing for certain on such a subject can be 
known to us, except that '* He who could make could also 

It should be observed that the Suns apparent motion is 
always in the ecliptic ; or rather, this is the path of the Karth 
among the fixed stars, as it is seen from the Sun. The 
Moon and all the other planets move within the Zodiac, 
which is 16^ broad; the ecliptic being a line dividing it 
into two equal parts. The distance of the Moon or of any 
planet from this line, northward or southward, is the latitude 
of such heavenly body. The latitude of the Moon and the 
six planets is never greater than 8^ so that tliey are always 
within the Zodiac ; but the asteroids, having oftentimes a 
greater latitude than 8^ are termed i//^ra-zodiacal, their 
orbits not being confined within the Zodiac. 

Many astronomers are, however, of opinion that the 
largest of these planets, Ceres and Juno, have not a diameter 
of more than one hundred miles, and that their average 
density is about twice that of water. Pallas is said to 
have a very hazy and extensive atmosphere. 

In respect of the orbits of Ceres and Pallas, it should be 
obser\'cd that, though the annual period of the latter. is 
longer than of the former, and though, in mean distance, 
it is a superior and more remote planet, yet, owing to the 
greater eccentricity of its orbit, its circumference is smaller 
than that of Ceres. These orbits, therefore, intersect each 
other, and may eventually lead to a mutual disturbance 
between the tivo bodies in question, unless some extraneous 
circumstances, such as the attraction of the larger planets* 
operate to prevent it. 


Beyond the sphere of Man, io distant skies 
Ilevolvcs the uigbtv magnitude of Jove, 
With kingly state, tne rival of the Sun. 
About him round four planetary moons. 
On earth with wonder all nit^ht long beheld 
Moon above moon, his fair attendants, dance. 

This is the greatest of all the planets, and consequently 
the brightest ; except Venus, when she approaches near to 
the earth. Jupiter is an oblate spheroid, his greater dia- 
meter being more than 89,000 miles. Owing to his re- 
volving so rapidly on his axis, — the diurnal rotation being 
completed in ten hours, — he is more flattened than any 
other planet ; his greater diameter exceeding the smidler 
by 6000 miles, — more than three-quarters of the whole 
diameter of the earth. He moves round the sun in about 
4332 days, which is nearly twelve years, by which his mo- 
tion in his orbit is about 25,000 miles in an hour ; while 
the motion of any spot on the protuberant part of his sur- 
face, due to the rotation on his axis, is about 26,000 miles 
an hour, which motion is more than twenty -five times as 
rapid as the rotatory motion of the earth. His mean dis- 
tance iiom the sun is computed at 490,000,000 of miles, 
whereby, if light and heat diminish as the distance increases, 
the inhabitants of tins planet receive only one twcutv-fiftli ol 
the light and heat which we enjoy. This deficiency, nowever, 
is made up in great measure by his turning round sc 
Quickly again to the sun, in his rotation on his axis, and 
likewise by the presence of four attendant moons. It is 
about 1 300 times larger than the earth. 

III mpoit of tfaa poiStioB of diew littla planeU in the 
■br iytMn* w mmj raaiaik chat Chera was formeriy con- 
li^irad la b^ aa notieed at the end of thia article, a wider 
isteml than tha ygpotliana of the solar system allow 
^tteea tte <}MU of Man and Jupiter; so wide, indeed, 
Ibt many aatMixniMrB had predicted that some new planet 
«MM,ai ana lina or alher, be discovered between them. 
Nsv it aa huf^moM that tho tor asteroids are vary dose 


The axis of Jupiter being perpendicular to Uie plane o 
his orbit, the acasoni in ibjs planet must remain constant 
and the days and nights alwavs of the same length. 

This planet, like most of the others, appears lar^ci^ \v 



opposition than in conjunction ; it being nearer the earth in 
the former case than in the latter. In opposition he sub- 
tends an an^^Ic of 46", and in conjunction an angle of 
3^\ His form, as seen through a good telescope, is oval ; 
the equatorial diameter being to the polar as 13 to 12. The 
density of this planet is one twenty-fourth greater than that 
of water ; but, nevertheless, owing to his vast bulk, it has a 
disturbing influence on the bodies oT other planets, comets, 
&C., and the force of gravity at his surface is eight times 
that of the earth. His orbit is inclined to the ecliptic at an 
angle of about 1^^. 

When this planet ir viewed through a telesoope, he ap- 
pears to be surrounded by several Mts, as may be aieen in 
the preceding figure, which are all parallel to one another ; 
sometimes these belts are reduced to. one or two in number, 
while at other times they amount to seven or eight ; from 
which it has been conjectured that these belts are not ex* 
latent on the body of the planet, but are caused by certain 
fluctuations in his atmosphere : sometimes they continue 
without manifesting any change for two or three months, 
while at other tiroes they alter their appearance in the 
course of an hour. Of these zones, or belts, the darker parts 
are supposed to be the body of the planet appearing through 
a luminous, but cloudy atmosphere. 

One of the most remarkable circumstances connected 
irith the planet Jupiter is, the existence of four little moons, 
which revolve round htm in the same way that our moon 
xevolves round the earth. The world owes the discovery of 
these satellites to Galileo : — they were the first fhiits of the 
invention of the telescope, for which we are also indebted 
to him. Having perceived that a convex and a concave 
lens, placed in certain positions with respect to each other, 
gave an enlarged view of an object seen through them, he 
conceived the grand idea of applying such a combination to 
the exploration of the hearens, by which the limited power 
cf the numan eye could be augmented. He did so : he 
placed two such lenses in an organ-pipe, which served him 
as a tube; and thus he constructea the first telescope 
whieh the world ever saw*. On turning this telesoope 
towards the planet Jupiter, he perceived a small star near 
him ; and at different times afterwards he discovered three 
others, all near the planet : these little stars were found to 
revolve round the planet ; for they would come in ftont of 
his illuminated surnice, travel to one side, pass round behind 
him, and emerge on the other side, just as Venus and 
Mercury do round the Sun. He took them at first for 
teUtcopic stars, tibat is, stars seen only by means of the 
telescope. It was about the year 1610, when thi^discovery 
took plaoe. 

These satellites may be seen with a telescope which 
nagniflos thirty times, or with a considerably lower power, 
if the atmosphere be very pare. They revolve round 
Jupiter in various times ;— the first being one day, eighteen 
hours; the second three days, thirteen hours; the third 
aeven days, three hours ; ana Uie fourth sixteen days, six- 
teen hours :— -these numbers are approximations sufficient 
for oar present purpose. Their distances ttom. Jupiter are 
about as follow i— first, 2C0,000 miles; seoond, 420,000 
miles; third, 650,000 miles; fourth, 1,150,000 miles. These 

Baneu are about the size of the earth, some being a little 
rger and the others a little smaller than the earth ; the 
flrst is about one-third, the second three-fourths, the third 
one-half, and the fourth one-third of the earth*s diameter. 

The passage of these little satellites in front of the illu- 
ninated surfaee of Jupiter has been of great service to 
astronomers : first, in determining that light does not pass 
instantaneously from one plaoe to another, however rapid 
its motion may be ; and seeondly, in laying down the lon- 
gitude of places on the earth's surfoee. The satellites can 
seldom be seen on the body of the planet, even with the aid 
of a telescope, except just at the time of apparent contact ; 
when the satellite, by being somewhat nearer to the sun, — 
the source of light to the whole system,— appears a little 
brighter than the planet behind it They are, however, 
sometimes seen as darkish spots on the illuminated disk of 
Japiter : this has been attributed to the ezistenoe of spots 
on the surfaces of the satellites, similar to those which we 
observe on the surfoee of our moon. This opinion is ftirther 
supported by the faet that the same satellite will appear as 
a bright spot at one time, and as a dark one at another; 
probably on account of its exhibiting a different side to the 
oarth at one time frsm that which it presents at another. 

It is remarkable that all these little satellites resemble 

? 8fi ToBtOinioii's HMmol «/ V^wal Pfttl«f«|)Ay, p. 500. 

our moon, in the circumstance that they revolve on their 
axes, respectively, in the same time that they revolve round 
the primary planet Jupiter : this fact has been determined 
by toe same means which enable astronomers to estab- 
lish the like fact with respect to our moon, namely, the 
constant position of certain spots on their surfaces with 
regard to the situation of Jupiter, although these greatly 
vary as seen from the earth ; a consequence of this fact is, 
that these moons always present the same sides towards 

As the orbits of three of these are nearly coincident with 
the orbit of Jupiter, it follows that the Sun suffers an eclipse, 
as seen fh)m Jupiter, whenever either of these moons is 
new, or between Jupiter and the Sun : this phenomenon 
can, by the aid of good telescopes, be seen from the earth, 
notwithstanding the immense distance which separates the 
earth from Jupiter : a faint shadow is seen to traverse the 
surface of Jupiter, occasioned by the passage of one of his 
satellites between him and the sun. The eclipses, which 
are, however, most distinctly visible irom the earth, are 
those in which the satellites themselves are eclipsed, by 
passing into the shadow of Jupiter, behind the body of 
the planet: the very short period which they occupy in 
going round their primary planet, Jupiter, render these 
eclipses extremely frequent. 

To an observer on the earth, there is perhaps no spectacle 
in the heavens more interesting. With a tolerably good 
telesoope they may be seen distinctly, at one time all in the 
same straight line on one side of the planet ; at another, 
part on one side and part on the other, but still in a straight 
line. If they be watched for a few hours they will be seen 
to change their relative positions ; and after a while some 
or other of them will pass into the shadow behind Jupiter, 
and so they will become invisible ; this is called an immer^ 
sion. The act of coming out of the shadow is called an 
emersion. These are in fisct eclipses, or occulations ; and 
occur with great ftequency on account of the quick revolu- 
tions of these moons round the planet The same may be 
said of the transits of the moons over the disk of the planet 

The times of the immersions of Jupiter s satellites in the 
shadowof the planet, and of their emersion, as likewise of 
the transits of these bodies over the face of the planet, are 
given in calendars, devoted to astronomy, in order to furnish 
a means for knowing the longitude, or the difference of 
meridians, on the earth's surface. The times given in the 
Nautical Almanack, White's Ephemeris, &C., are adapted 
to the meridian of Greenwich: so that, if at any other 
meridian, an observer notice an immersion or an emersion 
of one of these satellites, or the beginning or end of its 
transit over Jupiter s disk, to take place one hour, for in- 
stance, sooner than the time specified for Greenwich, he 
knows that he is 15* west of Greenwich ; because the sun, 
in passing round the earth, must make noon and other 
consequent periods of time sooner to the eastern parts of the 
worid, than to the western; and as he passes over 15* of 
the earth's surfoce in one hour, by reason that the earth 
revolves once on its axis in twenty-four hours, it follows, 
that to a person situated 15* westward, it will be, for in- 
stance, only 11 o'clock, when it is noon at Greenwich. If 
the observer notice the fact as ooearring one hour ailer the 
Greenwich time, he may be sure that he is 15^ east of 

Before Jupiter is in opposition, or so long as he passes 
the meridian in the morning, the shadow lies west of the 
planet : and the immersions happen on that side : but after 
the opposition* the emersions happen to the east 

This method of finding the longitude is more or less acca 
rate according to the practice of the observers, the goodness 
of the instrument, and the correetness of the tables. The 
immersion and emersion of the first satellite,— that whose 
orbit is nearest to the body of the planet,— serves the pur- 
pose of the longitude most effectually ; the motions of this 
planet being more clear and defined than of the others. 

Observations respecting the proaressive motion of light 
were first made by noticing these little attendanU of Jupi- 
ter. It had been usual to consider that light was sudden 
and instantaneous in iu effects. " But there is something 
so strange in the circumstance that light, as far as the 
evidence of the senses is concerned, should appear to occupy 
absolutely no time at all in travelling from place to place, 
that philosophers have applied many tests, by which they 
hoped to ascertain whether any portion of time could be 
estimated during its transit from one station to another. 
All means, however, failed till about the year 1675, when 
Romer, an eminent Danish philosopher, ascertained that 


MnplM an appreekbla, but atill rery null, portion 

in travelling tnm tbo Sun to tha Earth. Tb.e cir- 
Dce which euabled him to determine thia important 
a, that the eclipaei ot immfaaiona of the fbur little 

which revolveraund the i^anet Jupiter, did net oceut 
ly at the perioda which ealcuhuion bad uugned for 
Ihs variation beiii^ greater at one period of the year 

another period, aix montba before or after. From 
rcumalance he concluded that, when the apparent 
«« greatest, the light traversed a longer path in 

fmm those little moons to the earth ; and that ao 
. cleam of liebt shed previously to a moon's disap- 
wliehiDd the body of a planet, did not reach the eye 
me time after the coinmencement of the immeraion; 
the retardation would of course be increased, as tbe 
a of Jupiter from the Barth increased. Reasoning 
eaedata, Ritniur came to tho conclusion that tbe 
ence of light is not instantaneous; but that, like 
Down agent, it occupies a portion of time in tra- 

n certain space. Knowing the distances of the 
il heavenly bodies from eachotber, and testing those 
!S by the apparent retardation of the eclipses of 
a satellites, Kiimer computed that light traversed 
Alice from one point of the Earth's orbit to tbe 
I point, in about eleven minutes. Subsequent cal- 
a, however, have proved this to take place in about 

and a half minutes, so that eight and a quarter 
I ia the time employed by a ray of light in travelling 
a Sun to the Earth; which, being a. distance of 
inety-flve millions of miles, gives, in round numbera, 

ly of nearly 200,000 miles in a second." Toulin- 

laaual of Natural Pkilotopht/, p. 3SS. 
snl^ect may be well illutirated by reference to the 
g Bgure. If we suppoae that Jupiter is, upon an 
, about SOO millions of miles from the Sun, and the 
ibout 100 millions of milea, then, if Jupiter be in 
tion, or the Sun be between Jupiter and tbe Earth, 
I'a rays must travel about £00 millions of miles to 

or hia Satellites, and then, after reflexion, about 
bona of miles bock to the Earth, or 1100 millions 
I altogether; whereas, if Jupiter he iu opposition, 
larth be between tbe Sun and this planet, the two 
■ of the solar rays amount only to 900 mUliona of 
abioh gives tbe difference, in point of time, flrat 
b,Rf--- "^ 

the farthest of all the planets ; a* we found the poet speak 
of it above. 

la pteoeding figure,' let J be Jupiter, e a satellite 
{ its abadow, and i a satellite emeiging ^m it. 
be Earth ia at x, Jupiter is in opposition, but when 
1h is at F, the planet ia In conjunction. In tbe 
case, tbe solar rays have not so far to travel as in 

m'na% thTouch the gloam which aijiEit has thrown 

iatrr hills of DereT-tbawlDg ice. 
I Smt^n't esrtfa ; and even here (he sight, 
Itbase dolefnl icena, new nattsr fiads 
loader and dalighl 1 a mi(hlT ringi 

anat ia diatingnished from every other body in the 
I, aofor aa discoveries have yet gone, in the oireum- 
f beins aorroiinded by a flat luminous ring, extend' 
eonai^rable distance from the body of the planet, 
loaranalogona to the wooden hoiiion of an ortiScial 
Tili within nxty years ago^ it vai coosidered to be 

Saturn revolves round the Sun in an orbit, the mean 
distance of which from tbe Sun is about 900 millions of 
miles, about 9} times tbst of the Earth from tbe Sun : hia 
diameter is about ten timea, and bis whole magnitude about 
lOOO timea that of the Earth; and the Sun appears lo him 
to have not above i', ih part of tbe disk, or area, which he 
presents to tho Earth; consequently, the light and heat 
received by Saturn from the Sun are less than that received 
by the Earth in the same ratio. Some persons have com- 
puted it to be about £00 time* as much as that which ia 
afforded by our full moon ; whereas our sunlight ia e«ti- 
mated at 300,000 times that of our moonlight. 

Saturn travels in his orbit about 21,000 miles an hour, and 
takes up nearly 30 years in passing once round tbe Sun. 
He revolves once on his axis in about lO^ hours. Thercvolu< 
tion on his axis produces tbe same effect as on other planets, 
namely, Uattening him at the poles, and occasioning a pro- 
tuberance at the equator; the two diameters have been 
stated as being about in tbe ratio of 21B1 lo 20G1 ; it ia 
however, remarkable that the greatest diameter is not at (he 
equator, but at a point nearly mid-way between the equatot 
and the poles — this gives to Salum somewhat the appear- 
ance of a square with rounded corners, as may be observed 
in the figure aboi'e. This was one of the earliest suLi|ecta 
for discovery with the telescope. The density of this planet 
is about one half that of water. His orbit makes an angle 
of nearly 21° with the efdiptic ; that is, this planet may have 
that latitude: and hia axis is inclined to his orbit at an 
angle of about 60° ; which makes great variety of aeasona 
though these be slow in coming round. His apparent dia- 
meter is, owing to his great distance, much the samo at 
every part of hia orbit, and subtends an angle of about 18 . 
He may be seen in the heavens without theaidof aleletoopa, 
if we know at what place to look for him. Hi* disk ia 
crossed by obscure lones, or belts, like those of Jupiter. 
which vary in tbeir figure according fo the direction of th*- 

When Galileo] first presented bis telescope toward* 
Saturn, he perceived what appeared like two small bodies at 
the sides of the planet; and be thought at first that this 
planet was made up of three stars. It was soon found, how- 
ever, that these lateral appendages changed their appear- 
ance, end assumed the form of a ring surrounding the planeL 

line across the ball; but, if wa incline tbe latter a little, the 
ring will appear somewhat oval, or elliptical ; and if we turn 
it round a quarter of a circle from its first position, the ring 
will appear as a perfect circle. Now the same thing occurs 
with regard to Saturn, except that we never see the ring as 
a perfect circle : it ia sometimes a line, when ihe eye ia in 
the plane of the ring ; and at other times au ellipse, when 
the eve is inclined to that plane. Tho ring doe* not touch 
tbs planet; for a dark vacant space can be seen betwsea 
them: indeed, the whole would appear dark, were it not 
that tbe Sun's light is reflected from it to the Earth: it 
doea not shine by light reflected from the planet, but by 
that which is deriv^ from tbe Sun; therefore there are 
some positions of the Sun, Earth, and Saturn, when tbe 
ring is invisible lo us. Tbe ring presanta its edge towards 
the Earth every fifteen years, twice in the planet's revo- 
lution, but is seen as an elongated oval between those 
periods: in 1B33 it presented its edge towards the Earth, 
and will do ao again about 184B: at present tbe nwlhem 
aurfoce of the ring ia visible to the Earth. 

Sir W. Herscbel made many careful obserrationa on this 
ring, and fount) that it actually consists of tuNi m^, i»a 



within uothcir, with a dark ipooe between them; the 

ring was fou[i(l to reflect a stronger light than the bodf of 
tbo [lionet, and to cait a abadow on the planet, thereby 
ptuvins iu opuuty,. The Uteit meuureueata of this ring 
steaa follow; — 


Eiterior diua«tor of exterior ring . . . . ]76>4ie 
Interior ditto ditto .... 15J.S72 

Estartor diameter of interior ring . . . ,191,690 
Interior ditto ditto .... 117,339 

Equatorial diameter of the body of the planet 79,1G0 
Interval between the planet and interior ring 19,090 
Interral of the rings ...'..., 1,791 
Thiekneu of the ringa not oxoeedlng ... 100 

Some ofaier*eri have nolioed, that not only does the entire 
ring appear divided into tuio, but the outer one i> likewise 
subdivided into several concentric rings; this, hovuver, has 
not heen conQrmed by llcriichel and Siruvc, who have cs- 
ftmined it with tbe finest telescopes ever constructed. The 
late Captain Kater, about the year 1825, examined thin 
planet very eareAiUy, and notici:d the apparent division of 
the outer ring into several circles, as represented in the 
frontispiece. Jt seems that this circuiuslance had been 
noticed many years before by Mr. Shurt ; and it bad been 
considered as first settled by tbo elder Uerschel, that there 
were altogether two rings; but, according lo Kater's report, 
he saw, in 1823, not only the two riugs, but the outer ring 
appeared to be divided into two parts by a strong black hne, 
as at (ig. 1, and each part to be subdivided into at least two 
other* by Winter black lines, as at Sg. 3, A drawing made 
by another person of thia appearance is given at tlf,'. 2, 
Great doubt baa been expressed relative to the fact of tha 
outer ring being thus subdivided. Continued observation 
vaa intetiupled at tbe time by the ring disappearing, in 
consequence of the earth coming into its plane : bu: itia 
Bubjeot will probably not bo lost sight of by those woo 
llkK tbe beat means for obsetvalion; and, as the ring is 
now again cspanding to viaw.lthe opportunity is affonlod 
fbr deciding whether the effects noticed by Kater arose 
Awn an optical delusion, or curraspuiuled with the iilieno- 
niena of the belts and cones, which cross the boiUce of 
Jupiter and Saturn. 

Some aslronomera have imagined those ringa to be a 
VMt assemblage of satellites. TUoy certainly serve tlio 
purpose of many thousand satolliies, and, togi^ther with the 
e«Ten acknowledged moons, probably make up the deli- 
oieocy in the solar rays comiug from such .an extreme 

. Severn satellites, or moons, have been discovered to pass 
in ocbiti luund the planet Saturn. Two of these moons, 
the nearest to tbe body of tlie planet, w«e discovered by 
Bersebel with his great telescope. The most distant of the 
Mtellites is much the largest, and the next is a very con- 
spicuous object with a good telescope ; the next three are 
very minute, and cannot be seen without very good tele- 
wopes, while the two innermost have never been seen, 
flxeept with the moat powerful aiul flnisbed instruments 
made by man. 

But, however useful these mootis and rings may be to 
the inhabitants of Saturn, Ibay do not, os the moons of 
Jupiter, answer any directly useful purpose to the inbabit- 
KDte of the earth. Their great distance, and the conse- 
•ueat difficulty of eecing tbem, render them nearly useless, 
With referenoa to the longitude. We leave tliem, therefore, 
lo act their part as I'rovidenco has appointed them, though 
we cannot but gaie upon and think of them, with astonish- 
ment and admiration of tha all-surrounding power of the 

This is the last and remotest planet in the aolar lysten, u 

at present known. It is distaat from the Sun the enormoni 

?uantity of 1600 millions of miles, being about 19 times 
iirtber from Iba Sun than the Earlli is; he is about 35,112 
miles in diameter, and revolves round the Sun in about 
83 years and ISO days; this is the year of Uranus. Hii 
Summer half-year, tiierefore, is upwards of 41 of our yeari, 
and his Winter half-year equally long. The surface uf the 
Sun appears from this planet not above i^glb of that which 
it appears In the Earth ; the light and heat received hj 
Uranus are, thereture, smaller in the same proportica. 
Hence, it is quite im;ios»ible that any such a fluid as water 
could exist in that planet, fur all would be frosen, and no 
inhabitant 4, constituted as tliu inhabitants of the Earth ais, 
could exist on its surface. Its light from the Sun has bcea 
estimated ul about the quantity which would he afforded 1^ 
240 of our full moons 

One Mean On us reflecti its plieerful lichl ; 
'Ihere. seven tltcndaalt brighlen np the nigbl ; 
Here, the blue linnaineiit boleclud wiili uaii ; 

'i'here, over bead a lucid arch appears. 

The ring revolves round the planet in about 10 hours and 

3S minutes, aud in the same plane; which rapidity of 

revolution gives it a centrifugal force, which keeps it at its 

due distance iu equilibrium, 

From Earlh, how targe, how itroDs, the Suos bruhtballl 
lial Men from thmct, how laaeuid and how Bmalft 
When the liccn notlh, with airiti fiiry blows, 
< 'anecali lI'S floodi, and formi the Betcy soowi, 
'Iu Ileal iDLenie to what can theie bo koown ; 
Wamier our pole* than ii ill burning looa : 
WLuihero iohabit, must have other powen, 
JuJcBs, and veios, and seil>«i and life, than outs. 

This planet was discovered by Sir W. Ilersche], at Bitk, 
on the 13th of March, 1761, by means of the magniilcciil 
vellocting telescope constructed by himself, which wti 41 
feet long. The llrst circumatanco which led him to think 
that it was a planet, and not a fixed star, was tiit, 
although it appeared like a star of the seventh magnitud* 
to the naked eye, yet it appeared as one of the finst nugni- 
tudc when seen through his lolciicope. Now one cmim- 
qucnce uf the immeasurable distances of the fixed stari it. 
that tlicy do not appear turner when vicned through a 
tcleiicope than when seen with the eye, the only differeDce 
being an increa^ of brilliancy. From tbe circumstance, 
therefore, of its inc^reased mat'nitude, Ilcrschel concluded 
that Ibis celestial body was not a Cxcd star but a cumetl 
subsequently, however, he arriveil at the conclusion, tbitit 
was a planet moving round IheSun: to lliis conclusioo he 
was led by observing its continued proximity to the 
ecliptic, and its motion amokig tbe fixed stars from vest to 

Tills planet subtends an angle of about 4", which neier 
appears to vary, owing to the comparative smallness of wr 
orbit. Its disk appears uniformly illuminated, and without 
rings, belts, or spots- Its bulk is honovcr BO times that 
of the Earth, and is sunposed to be not quite so dcsie 
us water. The orbit of tnis planet is inclined at an aogl* 
of 4G' to the ecliptic. 

It is just posiiible to see this planet with thcDakedeje 
on a fine clear evening, when the moou is absent, bellt 
has rarely been noticed without tlia telescope, wbra il 
appears of a bluish white colour. It b said to nave becD 
seen before, but to have been regarded as a fixed lUt. 
Tycho Brab6, we are told, set it down in his catalog « 
the fixed stars, as also did Professor Meyer, of GottiBgeo, 
in the year 1796. When discovered to be a planet. Her 
Hchel dignified it with the name of the Georgtum Siihi, f* 
Georaian star, in honour of his royal patron, Qeorgalbs 
Third, and by this name it is known in tbe Nautili 
Almanack. Foreign astronomers call it Ilenchtl, rno 
the name of its discoverer ; hut the Royal Academy df 
Prussia, and some others, called it E/ramtf, by wfaioh nama 
it is now usually known. 

At different times Herschel discovered six saleUiln 
moving round this planet, for the same purpose probably at 
those of Jupiter and Saturn move round those bodiea; 
but these satellites are distinguishable only by the higbett 
telescopic means afforded by art. Two were easily narked 
out by Sir W. Herschel, but the existence of the othen 
depended fbr a very long time only oit his testimony ; these, 



tcgetlier with the two innermost moons of Saturn, are the 
most difficult objects in the solar system to get a sight of. 
It is considered to be a very remarkable &ct, that the 
planes of the orbits of the satellites of Uranus are nearly 
perpendicular to the ecliptic, and that their motions in these 
orbits are retrograde^ or from east to west, which is con- 
trary to the order of the signs; but, owing to the very great 
difficulty of observing thede attendant bodies, we nave 
not any decided knowledge respecting their masses and 

The disoovery of this planet and his satellites was one of 
the triumphs of the Reflecting Telescopoi thus beautifully 
alluded to by the poet :— 

Delighted Herechelf with reflected liRht, 
Pursues his radiant jouroey through tne night ; 
Detects new guards, that roll their orbs afar. 
In lucid ringlets round the Georgian star.^Dinwtir, 

There are some circumstances connected with the planets, 
as a system, to which we must here allude. When speak- 
ing of the attraction of gravitation*, we stated that each 
body attracts others in proportion to its mass or quantity of 
matter. Now one consequence of this is» that a given 
bulk of any substance would weigh differently at the sur- 
faces of the different planets : that planet which is larger, 
will attract a body which is upon its surface, towards the 
centre» with more force than a planet which is smaller ; 
and it is this attraction ftom the surface towards the centre 
which constitutes the whole of what we mean by weight; 
consequently, a given mass of matter will weigh more on a 
large planet than on a small one, supposing the density to 
remain the same : hut, as we have already seen that the 
densities of the planets varv, the force of their relative 
attractions must be estimated by the increased or diminished 
density of the mass, as well as by the actual extent or 
diminution of size. 

There has been noticed a remarkable ratio between the 
distances of the planets from the Sun. As we shall have to 

rk of the power of a number, we may as well here state 
it means a number multiplied by itself one or more 
times. Thus 2' means that 2 is to be multiplied into itself 
twice, or that three 2s are to be multiplied together. If 
now we call the mean distance of the Earth from the Sun 
10, then the mean distances of the other planets are nearly 
as here follow :— • 

Meroury's dii 

Ktance • 



= 4 

= 4 + 3 - - . = r 







= 4 + 3X2--* = 10 
= 4 + 3x2*- - - = 16 
= 4 + 3X2* - - - = 28 
= 4 + 3X2*- - - = 62 
= 4 + 3X2*- - - =100 
= 4 + 3X 2« - - - =196 

Now we must observe that this tabular law was formed 
by Professor Bode of Berlin, in the year 1772* before the 
discovery of the Asteroids and Uranus ; and that the void 
occurring between Mars and Jupiter led several German 
astronomers to suspect the existence of a planet in that 
point of space; which surmises received a confirmation by 
the discovery of the four ultra-zodiacal planets at the 
beginning of this century { while the law itself had been 
further confirmed by the disoovery of Uranus, as a planet, 
many years before. 

As a curious but faithful illustration of the proportional 
sizes and distances of the planets, reibrred to the Sun, we 
quote the following from Sir J. Herschel. 

" Choose any well levelled field or bowling-green. On it 
place a globe, two feet in diameter ; this will represent the 
Sun ; Mereurjr will be represented by a grain of mustard 
seed, on the circumference of a circle 164 feet in diameter 
for its orbit; Venus a pea^ on a circle 284 feet in dia- 
meter ; the Earth also a pea, on a circle of 430 feet ^ Mars 
a rather large pin*s head, on a circle of 654 feet ; Juno, 
Ceres, Vesta, and Pallas, grains of sand, in orbits of from 
lOOO to 1200 feet; Juoiter a moderate-sised orange in a 
circle nearly half a mue across; Saturn a small orange, on 
a circle of four-fifths of a mile; and Uranus a full-sized 
cherry, or small plum, upon the circumference of a circle 
more than a mile and a half in diameter/* 

• See SMtu*deif Mafa$in$, Vol. XU., p. W* 

But when the student of Astronomy shall have come to 
form a just estimate of the extent of the Solar system, and 
the magnitude of its component masses, he will yet refer all 
the members of it, together with the other celestial bodies, 
to the great concave sphere of the heavens, on which ho 
will trace their various paths, real and apparent Henoe wo 
arrive at the motion and uses of the Celestial Globe; on 
which the fixed stars are laid down in their several con- 
stellations, and by which the course of the sun, and the paths 
of the moon and planets among the stars may be readily 
and conveniently traced* 

For this purpose the figure at the Ibot of the present 
article Aimishes the rodiments of the celestial globe ; for, 
as when a person uses this globe, he must fancy himself 
placed at its centre, so when we direct our attention to the 
great circles of the heavens, by means of whioh we estimate 
the positions and motions of the heavenly bodies, we oon^ 
sider the earth as the central point, as shown in the flgui6b 
The axis of the earth being produced both ways, meets 
the sttrfhoe of the great sphere of the heavens, at p and q. 
These afe the poles of the heavens, about which the stare 
have their apparent er diurnal paths, at right angles to the 
terrestrial axif, as is seen in the motion of the star at s. 
If tibe earth's equator, x c, be carried out to the heavens, the 
great circle thus formed, m Q, is the equinoctial. The de 
oHnatioH circles are those which have their centre at the 
centre of the earth,- and whioh are at right angles to the 
equinoctial ; such as p s H. The use of these circles is to 
determine the situation of a star, &c. ; as the latitude of a 
plaee on the earth's surf^MO is reckoned on a meridian* 
This is the computation for north or south ; and as on the 
terrestrial globe it is necessary te know the east or west 
distance from a meridian, so, on the celestial globe, this is 
noted ftom the first point of Aries, thus marked, c^* This 
computation goes on eastward reund the globe, and is called 
the star's right aeceneion. 

Again, let o be a spot on the Earth's snrfoce, then 2 te 
its senith; the nadir being opposite, on the other 'side. 
Again, let N b s A he the horison of o ; then N and s are 
the north and south points, and a and B the east and West 
points. A circle x s tt drawn through a star s fh>m the 
senith to the horizon is the azimuth circle of the star, x n 
is its altitude, z s its zenith distance, and k n its azimuth. 

A consideration of these few particulars will prepare the 
reader for the study of the eebstial glebe. 

It is exceedingly cnrious, as matter of observation to the 
young astronomer, that the difforent planets, the members 
of the solar svstem, admit of being magnified, or increased 
in apparent size, according to the power of the instrument 
with which they are viewed t whHe the fixed stars, when 
undergoing the telescopic scrutiny, only cease to twinkle, 
and remain as bright points, not at all enlarged to the eye. 
These are perhaps the only objects in creation, as for as ttie 
range of man exists, which, as to apparent size, are un* 
acted upon to human vision by a combmation of lenses. In 
the cases of other objects, when viewed, the apparent sise 
deeroases as the distance increases, artd vice versd .'—and 
the use of the telescope is, by bringing the light thrown 
ftom the body to a focus, to enable us to see that body under 
a larger angle. In the following figure, it is clear that the 
tree, a b, will appear to an observer at x of the same size as 
tho tree, c d, because both subtend the same angle; whereas, 
the former tree is much smaller than the latter, but slsnds 
much nearer to the observer. Now, if both these trees stood 
at the same distance from the observer at b, yet, if the tree» 
A b, were observed through a telescope of a certain powec 
it might be made to appear of the same size as the tree, 
c D. Henoe we may infer that the sun and planets, if 
removed away to the space occupied by the fixed stara^ 
would appear, if they appeared at all, only as luminous 
points. In fiict, as each fixed star is deemed to be itself 
the centre of a system of planets, so our sun is, by parity 
of reasoning, supposed to be (miy one of those cefestlu 
bodies, which we caliybecf «<art. 

O Fig. 41k 

Some of these fixed stars have, as we shall hereafter 
aoticoi differeni oelours apparently inherent m tbemseWeSt 



[March 2, 

Ladies* Head Dresses. 

The absurd practice of removing their flowing tresses, 
for tke mere purpose of substituting a ' fancifnl pe- 
ruke, is no longer chargeable upon the ladies of 
England. There are, however, two periods in Eng- 
lish history, during which the most extravagant 
whims prevailed as to the adornment of the head; 
namely, during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, 
and more recently from about the year 1769 to 1790. 
When perukes were first invented by the French, 
they were only imitated in this country by the male 
sex, the ladies contcntmg themselves with ornament- 
ing their heads with false tresses, fastened on by 
means of pins and bodkins. Speaking of the ladies 
of England of the first of the periods referred to, a rude 
and severe critic of the day says. 

Then followeth the trimming and tricking of their heads, 
in laying out their hair to the show ; which of course must 
bo curled, frizzled, and crisped, laid out on wreaths and 
borders, and from one car to another; and least it should fall 
down, it is underpropped with forks, wires, and I cannot tell 
what ; then on the edges of their bolstered hair, (for it stand- 
eth crested round about their frontiers, and hanging over 
their faces, like pendiecs or vails, with glass windows on 
every side,) there is laid great wreaths of gold and silver 
curiously wrought, and cunningly applied to the temples of 
their heads, and for fear of lacking any thing to set forth 
their pride withal, at their hair thus wreathed and crested, 
are hanged bugles — I dare not say baubles, ouches, rings 
of gold, silver, glasses, and such other. But they are not 
simply content with their own hair, but buy hair, either of 
horses, or any other strange beasts ; dying it of what colour 
they list themselves. And if there be any poor woman (as 
now and then we see Grod duth bless them with beauty as 
well as the rich), that bath fairhair, these nice dames will not 
rest till they have bought it. Or if any children have fair 
hair, they will entice them into a secret place, and for a penny 
or two, they will cut off their hair ; as 1 heard that one did 
in the city of Munidnol {Londinum) of late, who meeting a 
little child with very fair hair, inveigled her into a house, 
promised her a penny, and cut off her hair. And this they 
wear in the same order as you have heard, as though ft 
were their own natural hair; and upon the other side, if any 
have hair of their own natural growing, which is not fair 
enough, then will they dye it in divers colours. So whereas 
their hair was given them as a si^n of subjection, and there- 
fore they were commanded to cherish the same, now have 
they made it an ornament of pride and destruction to them- 
selves, except they repent 

They have also other ornaments besides to set forth 
their ingenious heads, which they call (as I remember) 
cawles, made netwise, to the end, as I think, that the 
cloth of gold, cloth of silver, or else tinsel (for that is 
the worst wherewith their heads are covered and attired 
withal underneath their cawles,) may the better appear, 
and shew itself in the bravest manner ; so that a man that 
seeth them (their heads glisten and shine in such sort), 
would think them to have golden heads. And some wear 
lattice caps with three horns, three corners, I should say, 
like the forked caps of popish priests, with their per- 
ri winkles, ehitterlings, and the like apish toys of infi- 
nite variety. 

The author we have quoted, in spite of his ungal« 
lant rudeness, appears to have had his admirers, as 
we may see by the following verses, which are pre- 
fixed to his work. 


If moriall man maie challenge praise 

For anything doen in this life ; 
Tlien may our Stpbbes, at all assaies, 

Injoy the same withouten strife. 

Not onely for his godly zeale, 

And Christian life accordinglic ; 
But also for his book in sale 

Here present now before thine eye. 
JTerein the abuses of these daies, 

As in a glosse thon maiest beholde; 
Oh, bny it then, heare what he sales. 

And give him thankcs an hundred foldeu 

The five head-dresses at the top of the engraving 
wore in fashion in the fifteenth and sixteenth ccn- ' 

turies, and are far from inelegant, however much they 
might display the vanity of their wearers. We cannot 
bestow even this qualified praise upon the ladies* 
head-dresses during the last century ; the figures ia 
the lower portion of the engraving represent a few of 
these preposterous head-dresses. .Those selected frou 
the fashions of 1 770 to 1 780 are perhaps the most 
ridiculous from their size, and on account of the 
great quantity of powder and pomatum emplojred in 
their construction. The following directions for the 
benefit of a country cousin, are extracted from a 
pocket-book of the above date. 

Every lady who wishes to dress her hair with taste aai 
elegance, should first purchase an elastic cushion, exactly 
fitted to her head. Then having combed out her hair tkh 
roughly, and properly thickened it with powder and pomso 
turn, let her turn it over her cushion in the reigning modsL 
Let her next divide the sides into divisions forcuris, and id- 
just their number and size from the same models. If the 
hair bo not of a sufficient length and thickness, it will ba 
necessary to procure an addition to it; which is always to be 
had, ready made, and matched to every colour. 

The filthy use of pomatum was regarded as neeei- 
sary to the nourishment of the hair, with aa mucli 
reason as bears' grease and Macassar oil at the pr^ 
sent day. " Still, however/' says a writer of £bat 
day, "though nothing supports and nourishes the 
hair so much as powder and pomatum, yet it should 
be combed out by the roots, with a small comb, twice 
or three times in a fortnight :" this was some little 
sacrifice to cleanliness. The popular songs of the 
day did not fail to satirize these whimsical fashions, 
as for instance. 

Give Betsy a buAhel of horse-hair and wool. 

Of paste and pomatum a pound, 
Ten yards of gay ribbon, to deck her sweet skiill, 

And gauze to encom{)ass it round. 

Her cap flies behind for a yard at the least, 
And her curls meet just under her chin. 

And those curls are supported, to keep up the jest, 
With a hundred instead of one pin. 

The remaining head-dresses in the engraving re- 
present the fashions of rather a later period. Poma- 
tum and hair powder were still used, the former, 
however, more sparingly ; but the whim arose of 
frizzling the hair, so as to render it a work of some 
pain and great labour to disentangle it. In those 
days a hair- dresser was of much greater consequence 
than he is at present ; and among other qualifications 
which he should possess, " he ought to be thoroughly 
versed in physiognomy, and must have a partkular 
regard to the complexion and features of those be is 
employed to dress, that he may use powder in » 
becoming proportion, and dress the hair to the 
dimensions of the face." 

We see a beautiful and infinite variety everywhere. pre- 
sented to us in the works of nature, and man seeks fbr pri- 
mary causes of this exuberant effect, but if he forget^btt 
First Great Cause on which all others depend, he is quickly 
surrounded by doubts and diflSculties, and finds his reason- 
ing degenerate into conjecture. We sometimes look on the 
effect, and discover the agent by which it was produced-^ 
the human mind is then too frequently satisfied. True phi" 
losophy would pursue the subject still further: and thus we 
should not stop short of that admiration of Divine Power, 
and humiliation of our own wisdom, which is becoming oaf 
present state of dependence — a dependence notwithstand- 
i g, under which all may so freely enjoy the boundless riches 
and beauty everywhere presented to their contemplation.-^ 

Iv science, as in common life, we frequently see that a 
novelty in system or in practice, cannot be duly appreciated 
till time has sobered the enthusiasm of its advocates.—* 






3. The Sun- Dial. 

We shall now proceed to show how the shadow of 
any object, on which the snn is shining, may be made 
a measure of time. But before doing so, we must 
shortly allude to a difference in the respective lengths 
of hours, as indicated by the sun. 

The earth moves equably on her axis, but not 
equably in her 6rbit : that is, she moves through a 
twenty-fonrth part, for instance, of her daily rotation 
in exactly the same portion of time every year, and 
in every part of the year ; but, in moving through a 
given part of her annual orbit, she occupies a longer 
time at some periods of the year than at others. 
Vils irregularity in the earth^s motion proceeds from 
twu sources : first, the earth's motion round her axis 
nut beings parallel to her motion round the sun ; and 
second, the earth's annual path round the sun not 
being a circle, but an ellipse. Both of these circum- 
stances disturb the equability of the hours, as indi- 
cated by the sun. The time, therefore, as indicated 
by the shadow of an opaque object, cast by the sun, 
does not quite correspond with the time as indicated 
by a good clock or chronometer, the former being 
sometimea in advance and sometimes in arrear^ of 
the other. The deviation- is, however, never more 
than 16^ minutes, and can always be known by re- 
ferring to the table of the " Equation of Time," in 
m almanac. 

Oar readers may form a rongh idea of the origin 
and nature of the sun-dial by thrusting a s^ick up- 
right in the ground, when the sun is shining. By 
observing the shadow of the atick, as cast upon the 
ground, at different hours and on different days, many 
Qflefol facta may be elicited. 1st The shadow will 
be shorter at noon than at any other part of the day. 
2nd. It will be of the aame length at any number of 
hoars before noon as at the same hours after noon. 
3rd. It will be longer at sunrise and at sunset than 
ac any other part of the day. 4th. It will at any 
given honr on the 21st of March be just as long as 
at the same hour on the 21st of September } but at 
the same hour on any of the Summer days between 
those periods it will be shorter, and on any of the 
Winter days longer, than in March or September. 
i)th. The twelve o'clock shadow will, on every day in 
the year, be exactly north and south. The causes of 
these differences are to be found in the two-fold mo- 
tion of the earth; first, on her own axis, and secondly, 
roand the sun. The sun is more elevated in Summer 
than in Winter ; hence he casts smaller shadows in 
the former season. Again, he is more elevated at 
noon than in the forenoon or afternoon : hence again 
the shadows are shorter at noon than at any other 

The shadow of the stick, therefore, would give us 
some knowledge of the hour of the day and of the 
season of the year, by comparing its length at different 
times. But we shall gain much more information if 
ve attend to the direction of the shadow, as well as 
to its length. For instance, on the.21st of March 
and the 21st of September (the days of the vernal 
and autumnal equinoxes, when the lengths of the 
<)ay and night are equal all over the world) the sun 
rises exactly in the east, and sets exactly in the west. 
The shadow of the stick therefrom is cast due west 
at sunrise, and due east at sunset. In the Summer 
months the aun rises to the north of east, and con 
•equently throws the shadow rather towards the 
south-west, while in Winter he rises southward of 
'^ast, thereby throwing the shadow northward of 

west. Again, at twelve o'clock at noon, (in a northern 
latitude above the tropic of Cancer) the sun is always 
due south, and therefore casts a shadow due north. 

Now, if all these facts were carefully noted, and 
marks made in the ground by which the direction 
and length of the shadow might be compared at dif- 
ferent times, much information as to the progress 
of time and the seasons might be acquired, indeed, a 
rude sort of sun-dial would be constructed. All sun- 
dials are merely contrivances, by which the shadow 
of the straight edge of a projecting piece of metal, or 
wood, becomes indicative of the number of hours that 
the sun has been above the horizon, or rather, the 
number of hours that he is distant from his meridian 
position. A stick, thrust upright in the ground, 
would even render information as to the season of 
the year, in the following manner :— suppose an in- 
habitant of London (or of any other place in the 
same latitude Slj^) ^x a stick or rod upright in the 
ground, to the height of exactly two feet. Let him 
on the 1st of January note the shortest shadow 
thrown on that day (which will be at twelve o'clock 
at noon as before stated). On measuring it he will 
find its length to be 7 feet 3^ inches. Let him re- 
peat the process on the 1st of each following month, 
and he will find that the shortest (or twelve o*clockj 
shadow will measure as follows : — 

Feet Id. 

Ist of February 5 I 

March 3 4 

•— April 2 

May 1 

——June 1 1^ 

July 1 1 

— August 1 4 

— September 1 10^ 

October * 2 10 

— November 4 6 

— December 6 8^ 

At any time afterwards, therefore, he can, by mea- 
suring the noon-day shadow of a vertical rod two 
feet high, form a rough idea of the season of the year. 
We must not be understood to attribute any practical 
value to the foregoing mode of determining times and 
seasons; hut only to observe, that on principlea 
similar to these, sun-dials are constructed. 

Our readers have probably seen a sun-dial. It has 
heen in great measure thrown into oblivion hy those 
more convenient instruments, clocks and watches. 
The dial still remains, however, as an ornament on 
the open lawns of rural dwellings, where, fixed on a 
pedestal, it is exposed on all sides to the sun. In 
some countries a sun-dial is of more service than in 
others. In southern climates, where the atmosphere 
ia purer and clearer than with us in the north, the 
dial is very necessary to adjust the clock by ; the 
shadow projected by the style being more marked 
and constant than with us, owing to the more unin- 
terrupted serenity of the heavens. An elaborate dial 
may be seen in Kensington Gardens, near the palace | 
and many old buildings in and near the metropolis^ 
contain these relics of the ingenuity of our forefathers. 

Dials are chiefly horizontal and vertical. But, 
whatever be their position, there is always a projecting 
piece of metal or wood, the shadow of which, thrown 
on the dial, traverses a certain range of distance from 
one side of the dial to the other. The position of 
this index, or shadow-producing body, is a very im- 
portant part of the construction of a dial 3 but, what- 
ever be its shape, the edge which casts the shadow is 
called the «/y^; the whc^ contrivance is termed the 
gnomon, and the part of the dtal-plate on which the 
gnomon rests is the mtb^tiyU. 

We wiU BOW brMy describe the construction of 
- - - 428-2, 



[Uakch 2, 

■ horizontal tnd b vertical dial these being the most 
pmctically nteful, and therefore oftenest met with. 
It should be observed however that the style of 
every dial must coincide or be parallel with the axi( 
of the earth It must, therefore, be elevated aa many 
degrees above the dial plane as will accord with the 
latitude of the place 

We construct s homoHtal dial for the latitude of 
London, thus — having described two concentric 
circles, within which the hour nambers are marked, 
at in Uie annexed figure we draw two diameters at 

right angles to each other, as n s and w e. The cast 
and west line w e need not pass through the centre. 
If drawn lower down, aa in the figure, it gives greater 
scope f»r the shadow of the gnomon during the 
middle of the day, when the dial is most available. 
We next divide each of the two upper quadrants 
into six parts, which divisions, however, must not be 
equal, but the following order must be observed. 
Fnim the twelve o'clock to the one o'clock line mast 
bean angle of 11*51'; from one to two o'clock = 
12* 28' i from two to three = 13° 44'; from three 
to four = 15° 32'; from four to five = 17' 31'; and 
from five to six » 18° 54', which together make up 
the quadrant of 90°. The same process must be re- 
peated on the other side of the twelve o'clock line, 
and the dial wilt be properly divided. The style 
luQtt then be inserted where the six o'clock line 
croMea the meridian line, and it may be either a 
straight wire, or a thin piece of wood or metal formed 
into a right-angled triangle, as cab, which it the 
gnomon. In our figure it appears to lie down, and 
overlap some of the hour-lines beneath ; but when 
used it must be turned up by a hinge at the tide b a, 
which is the sub-style. Thus the gnomon it fixed 
upon the meridian or twelve o'clock line n s, which 
is made double, in order to suit the thickness of the 
gnomon. When perfectly upright, one end of the 
sloping circle coincides with the point b e. The 
sloping edge b b thus becomes parallel to the earth's 
axis) for, in adjusting the style, or constructing the 
gnomon, we made the style or line b n have an incli- 
nation equal to the latitude of the place = 51^° at 
London. When the dial is thus constructed, the 
shadow of the oblique edge of the gnomon, b a, co- 
incides successively with all the hour-lines, from 
eight in the morning till four in the afternoon at mid- 
winter, and from four in the morning till eight in the 
evening at midsummer: these being about the ex- 
treme hours of sun-rise and tun-set in the latitude of 
London. To mark these hours on the lower quad- 
rants of the dial, the hour-lines twelve hours off are 
prolonged to the opposite part of the circle, as shewn 
in the figure. The linei a/, d «, are uaed when the 

angnlac distances of the honr-lines are taken from a 
scale. A horizontal dial for any other latitude most 
have the style arranged according to that latitude ; 
,and the hour-linea separated by angles which may \tt 
obtained from tablet found in works on Dialling. 

In Bverh'co/ dial the style is still parallel to the 
earth's axis, but the noon hour-line is directed down- 
ward!. The style, in consequence, points downwards, 
and makes with the plane of the dial an angle eqiul 
to the compliment of the latitude ; that is, what the 
latitude wants of 90°. For London this is 38^° ; which 
is the angle made by the style with the dtal-plate. 
The hour-angles are as follow : — from twelve to one, 
9° 28' ; from one to two, 10° 17'; from two to three, 
12° 9'; from three to four, 15° !5'; from four to 
five, 19° 33'; and from five to six, 23° 18'. The 
cross-lines a/, d t, are for taking these distances off 
from the scales of hours, latitudes, and chords, la 
other respects, the coostmction of this dial will Im 
similar to that of a horizontal dial. A vertical dial 
need only have one-half of the hour-lines drawn, ai 
the sun never catti n shadow on it before six in the 
morning, or after six In the evening; its edges beiflg 
directed east and west. 

Before proceeding further, we must explain the 
method of procuring a meridian line, which is espe- 
cially necessary in the conatmction of the horizonttl 
dial, before mentioned. 

Suppose we were about to lay a dial-plate horizon- 
'tally, on the slab b, of the pedestal c, in the accom- 
panying figure. We mutt of course make the double 
meridian line coincide with the meridian line, which 
we shall obtain thus : — Having made the slab Uvel, we 
draw several concentric circles, and fix a wire perpen- 
dicular at the centre. Suppose, for instance, that at 
tea o'clock the shadow of the wire touches the third 
circle from the centre at a, when the sun is shining 
at A ; at eleven o'clock the shadow touches the second 
circle J at half-past eleven o'clock the third circle. 
We mark these places respectively irhere the shadow 
of the wire cuts each circle. At half-past twelve the 
sun, having travelled round to a', cuts the innermost 
circle ; at one o'clock the second circle ; at two 
o'clock the third circle at n'. We mark the circles 
as before. Thea dividing these arcs of the circles 
equally, we draw the line from m, through the points 
of division to the centre ; which line lies where the 
shadow itora the Mire h, fell at twelve o'clock, solu 
time, and is continued to n'. 

By the aid of an almanac and a little calculation, 
a sundial nay be made to indicate the hour, by the 
shadow ca»t by the moon, in this manner:— -Observe 
what hour-line is marked by the shadow of the style: 
then find the moon'a age in an almanac : take three- 
fourths of that number, and add the result to the 
hoar indicated by the shadow, and that will be the 
real hour of the day. For example, suppose tiie mooD't 



be twelve days, and the shadov of the style to 
L four o'clock in the artemoon : we take three- 
hs of twelve, which is equal to nine, and add that 
inr o'clock in the aFtemoon, which gives one 
ck in the morning ai the real time. The reason 
is is that if the sun and moon were on the same 
lian at the same instant on any givea day, the 

1 on the following day wonld be about three qoar- 
>f an honr later than the sun in arriving at the 

meridian : that deviation, therefore, has to he 
lated, and added to the observed time. This 
od of finding time cannot however be altogether 
ided upon, on account of the moon not always 
I three quarters of an hour later than on the day 

't observed that in climates not far removed from 
Equator, the sundial is more valuable than in 
ns nearer to the poles. We find accordingly that 
flon, or some neighboaring: country, was 
iplace of the sundial. Mention is made in the 
e, at the twentieth chapter of the second book of 
{s, V. 11, of a sundial as having existed in the 
: of Ahaz, which was about 730 years b. c. The 
Mfjt is this — " He brought the shadows ten degrees 
ward, by which it had gone down in the dial of 
I." The word used for degree* in the original 
Tew is equivalent to our term ttepa. Hence St. 
«ne expresses an opinion that there was a pillar, o> 
nn, erected near a flight of steps, leading up to 
king's palace, and that the step, on which the 
low of the pillar happened to fall, indicated the 
tion of the sun at that moment, 
or further particulars on this interesting subject, 
icfer the reader to a popular treatise in Tomlinaon'i 
vui of Natural Philosophy. 

muai, which it the voice of God, never rontravcnei 
s other voica in our unilentandings; nor calls upcn us 
lisTe that which eootradicis the senses that ho has given 
-tBisboy UaKT. 



» lame yean sgo that I was leaning over the 
b.-idge yonder, looking into the water ; I nas (hen twenty- 
six, and beinfc an orphnn, had been put out early to service. 
I bad had but middling luck, but my present place nas on 
the whole the b«it; to be sure my wages were not high. 
and I bad plenty to do, but my mistress was very kind to 
roe, and, when Ul, ! was well cared for; I thought of all this 
afterwards, when it was too late, but then I only pondered 
on my hardships as I called them, low wages and constant 

As 1 was thinking of all these things, a parly of young 
'~ ~~' towards me. 1 saw among iliem 

several that I knew, and I » 

1 ^oing t 

1 away, fur I 

heart lo relish their jokes. But they w 

Iuick for me : " Why Anne, what makes you look eo cast 
own," said one : " Pretty Anne should never look sad, it 
don't become her." said another : " Well I have ffA some- 
thing here lo make us all look merry," said a third : and 
then she showed mo a paper they bad been reading as they 
oame up, which told how that young women irho wished to 
better themselves had nothing to do but to go out to Aus- 
tralia, where they would soon get husbands and comfortable 
fanni, and — but in short I cannot tell you how many good 
things the paper piomised. Not lo make my story too 
long, I will only add, that six weeks after this I was on my 
road to Portsmouth, where we were to embark for Sydney, 
in New South Wales. With the little money I had been 
able to save, I collected some tidy clothes, and a few other 
hlllfl comforts; and my kind mislrets, though poor herself, 
had lessened her slender wardrobe lo supply me. She bad 
given me, too, a few excellent books, and a little stock of 
tea. Thus I thought myself rich already, and my spirits 
rose higher and hieher, when my companions assiured me 
that such a well-lookiDg young woman would be sure to 
make her fortune. 

We embarked, as I have said, at Portsmouth, on the 
13th of May; our voya);e was said to be favourable i lo me, 
however, it seemed endless : and when I tell you we were 
eighteen weeks, you will not wonder that I thought it so. 
For the first three weeks I was quire overpowered wiih sea- 
sickness ; my companions were as bad, so that I had little 
help or sympathy. How often, as 1 lay on my bod, 
squeeied into a little hole, where I could hardly turn, my 
head splitting with pain, and faint with sickness, did 1 
think with regret of my quiet little bed-room at home, 
looking out on the fields, and my kind mistress, sitting by 
my bedside, with her work, when I was ill. But this did 
not last for ever ; I became more accustomed to the sea, 
and as my health mended, my spirits rose ; so that on the 
3rd of June, when they told me we were approaching the 
isle of Teneriffe, I was able to enjoy Ibe thoughts of onoa 
more alretching my limbs on dry ground. 

I must not attempt lo describe all the itrange and beau- 
tiful objects that I saw when we landed at the town of Santa 
Cruz, in Tenerifi'e. Not the least vaa that wonderful moun- 
tain, which they call tbePeakofTeneriO'e.of which I Ecme- 
times doubted whether it bad any lop, certainly 1 never 
saw it, so completely cloud-capped was it. The getttnz 
on dry land seemed quite to restore me. 1 had been parched 
up by a continual fever all the way, but the figs and mul- 
berries, of which I got here as many as I could eat for a 
few half-pence, cooled me and did me good. I filled my 
basket with these delicioua fruits, that I might share them 
with a poor sick girl onboard, who seemed to be neglected 
by all, and went on board again, full of health and spirita. 
But I must not dwell too long upon my voyage; I will only 
add that after landing again, five weeks ancrthia, at Rio 
Janeiro, a pleasant-looking town in South America, where I 
laid in another little store of Iwenty-flvo oranges, for tbree- 
half-pence, which served, I think, to keep me in healtb, we 
proceeded, without any itorms or accidents, for two months 
more, which seemed to me a year, for the heat was 

I tried lo amuse and I'nstnict myself with the few books 
my kind mistress had given me, and some that poor Ellen 
Vaux, the sick girl, had lent me ; yet 1 could not enjoy 
them in peace, for the young women who were crowded 
into the cabin with me, when they got well, were very noiav, 
and were never weary of laughing at me for my bookith- 
nen, as they called it. 

At length, on the 2nd of September, I heard the joyfhl 
sound, "Land in light," and in tweuty-fburboun mem wi« 



(March 2, 

landed at Sydney, in New South Wales. There are some 
things that we never forget ; one of such was my first view 
of that beautiful country. Many years have passed over my 
head since then, and many sorrows : yet still I seem to see, 
as if I had beheld but yesterday, its green hills, crowned 
with the stately gum-trees, and enlivened by the gay blos- 
soms of unnumbered peaches ; while a sky, far brighter 
than any we ever see in England, added to the beauty of 
the sceue. It was Spring — mr, strange as it may seem, 
the seasons are all different in this out-of-the-way part of 
the world ; and when it is Winter with us, it is Summer with 
them. The air was consequently not oppressive, and I 
could walk about without inconvenience. 

The town of Sydney lies in a vallev, and the ridges of 
rock rising above it on each side, and the large and plea- 
sant gardens which surround many of the houses, give it a 
very pretty look. The singular shape of the trees, with 
the beautiful parrots, cockatoos, and other gay birds perched 
on them, and the market, loaded with melons, oranges, 
and limes, all told me that I was in a foreign land. But 
another and a sadder tale was told by the parties of fierce- 
looking men, in their white woollen frocks and gray jackets, 
with here and there chains jingling round their legs. These 
were the newly-arrived convicts, and my heart died within 
me as I looked at them. 

I was soon engaged as a servant by a gentleman and 
lady of the name of Atkins, and taken to their house, about 
a mile from Sydney, where he had a large farm. It was a 
pleasant farm-house, shaded by a grove of the beautiful 
gum-trees at the back, while the front commanded a fine 
view of the blue mountains ; a garden full of the gayest 
flowers, such as I had never seen before, half surrounded 
the house, and on one side was a thicket of myrtles and 
peach-trees. The bright blossoms of the one, and the dark 
leaves of the other, thus united, looked more beautiful than 
you can imagine. 

Mrs. Atkins had two children, of which I was to take 
charge ; I had plenty of work to do besides ; but my wages 
were high, and I had always been brought up to work. I 
kept up my spirits, too, by thinking that it would soon be 
my turn to have a house and farm of my own. Mrs. Atkins 
kept two other female servants besides me. One was about 
my own age, and so good-tempered and pleasant in her 
manners, that I took to her much ; her name was Shirley. 
The other was a great deal older; she was rude in her 
manners, and treated Shirley with such crossness and con- 
tempt, that I rejoiced for the poor girls sake when she told 
me that she did not care much for it, for that she was en- 
gaged to bo married, and should leave Mrs. Atkins in two 
months. I was glad on her account, though sorry on my 
own ; but I e.\{)ected soon to follow her examole. Shirley's 
Kindness was not confined to words ; she ohen gave me 
little presents of tea, of which my stock was nearly gone, 
and when I tried to refuse it she only laughed, and said it 
cost her nothing, and that I should soon find that lovers 
were generous. There was one thing, however, that 
troubled me much; sometimes as we were talking and 
laughing together, Shirley would use such words, such bad 
words, that I was quite shocked. When I noticed it, she 
would blush, and say she did not know how it was ; it was 
very wrong to be sure ; but that there was such a wicked 
set of people here, that really one learnt wickedness from 
them. '*\Yhy, at ray last place,** she added, **I had two 
young women as fellow-servants who were convicts. My 
mistress thought them quite reformed; but oh! the lan- 
guage they would use down stairs I *' 

It was a few days after this that my mistress went to 
spend the day at Sydney ; she had told me to take the 
children into the sittiuj^-room while she was away, and I 
went into it to set it to rights before I brought them down. 
What was my surprise to see Shirley standing over the lea- 
chest, and filling a bag she had with her ! I believe I 
bcreamod : she started, and looked guilty enough, but said, 
between laughing and crying, " So you have caught me, 
have you ? but don* t tell of me, and I will give you half:'* 
and she held out the bag. I flung it from me, but had not 
time to speak ; for the other woman, who had been at the 
door, I suppose, though we had not heard her, rushed into 
the room, and seixing Shirley by the arm, gave her a violent 
box on the ears. " So I've caught you at last, you thief, 
have I?** she exclaimed. "I knew you often did this, 
though I could not find you out ; for what can one expect 
from a convict ? '* "A convict ! " I exclaimed. " Yes, a 
convict, she replied." " And how dare you tell her I was 
» aomict ? yon know Mn, Atkiuf desired you not«" " Yes, 

forsooth, because she said that if you thought your character 
was not known, it might lead you to behave yourself; much 
good it has done, truly." They went on giving each other 
angry words, but grieved and disgusted I lelt tliem, and 
went to the children. 

Shirley went away, and, for a week after, I had no other 
companion than the elder woman, who, proud of her honesty, 
and having little, I fear, of that true religion.which teaches 
us to be kind and gentle, was cross and rude in the extreme. 
Alas ! I was little better than she, for when, a few days 
after, another girl came, who my mistress warned me was 
a convict, I treated her proudly enough. My home was 
thus very uncomfortable, but it was not to last long. 

About a fortnight after I had been at the farm, I became 
acquainted with a voung man of the name of Davies. He 
had a small farm about five miles furtlier up the countr}-, 
but came here once a week to help my master. He 
soon took a great deal of notice of me. My mistress sav 
what was going on, and told me she thought it would be a 
good match for me; for that he was a young man who bore 
a good character, she believed, and he had a farm which vas 
likely to turn out well. I now felt that I could love him, and 
indeed loved him too well to fancy any faults in him. Yet I 
felt uneasy when I considered how little I could really 
know of him ; for I was in a land of strangers, and knev 
not of whom to inquire. My master had never spoken to 
me but twice since, I had been under his roof; however, I 
resolved to take courage, and to soM his advice. I took, 
therefore, the first opportunity I could find, of telling him 
how I stood with Davies, begging him to put me in the 
way of finding out his character. He smiled. ** You must 
not be too nice about such points, Anne, in this pai't of the 
world,'' said he : "it is something here to say you know no 
bad of a man, and that I am sure I can say of Davies. On 
the contrary, all I have seen of him is much in his favour; 
but he has not been long among us, and as for putting you 
in the way of hearing more of him, that is what I cannot 
do ; but I will show you a letter, a written character of him, 
which he had from a gentleman who lives about thirty 
miles from this." He put the letter into my hands; it spoke 
most highly of him, and as, when one loves, one readily 
believes what one wishes, I even reproached myself for 
having doubted. 

A month after this we were married, though there had 
been one thing during our courtship that rather surprised 
me. Davies was quite devoted to pleading me in every 
way, but he seemed always unwilling to let me visit my 
future home, though I often expressed a wish to do so; and 
when my mistress could have spared me to go over, which was 
notoflten indeed, he always threw some obstacle in the ^ay< 
Well, we married, and I went to my home, Mr. Atkins 
kindly lending us his cart and horse to take me and luT 
things there. Davies had warned me that it was retired, 
but he had not given me an idea of the desolation that 
reigned about. A dark and gloomy -looking wood at the 
back of the cottage, which seemed to extend for miles, was 
the only ornament of the scene, if ornament it could 
be called; in the front was a range of barren hills. Tb^ 
garden was neglected, and the farm seemed in poor condition. 
The ftottage was not uncomfortable, but it was rather bare 
of furniture. 

My husband saw that I noticed all this, and kindly told me 
that things were not quite as he could wish them; but that 
now he had me there, he should work hard, and set e^'ery 
thing to rights. For the first month everything went pn 
well. My husband was very kind to me, and I loved hint 
too well to mind the loneliness of the place. After this one 
or two things happened to surprise me. My husband went 
from home part of several days, and when I asked where 
he had been, he did not seem to like to explain; but only 
said he had business up the country. Another thinj? too 
surprised me, though it was a pleasant surprise certainly- 
I had been regretting the oranges and limes we used to have 
at Mrs. Atkins's. Davies said nothing at the time, but ^ 
day or two afterwards I found a good supply of each on the 
table. I could not guess where he had got them, for I 
knew he had not been off the premises; but when 1 asked 
him he only laughed, and said that the fairies had brought^ 

One evening I had gone to bed earlier than usual, not 
being quite well. I had been in bed about an hour, when 
I heard the kitchen door open gently, and my husband's 
voice in a whisper, saying "Come in.' It then seemed to 
me as if two people were whispering together. Alarmed at 
sounds so unusual, I called to my husband. He came tome 




after a few minutes; but when 1 told nim what I had 
heard, he only answered that 1 must have been in a dream, 
and when I ur^^ed him further, he gave me so sharp a reply, 
that I was afraid to say mure. 

About a fortnight after this I had risen early one morning-, 
having a great washing, and being anxious to get over some 
of it before the heat of the day. My husband was still 
asleep ; and unwilling to awaken him so early, I crept outt>f 
the roonn and went to a shed not very far from the house, to 
fetch my tubs. What was my terror on opening the door, to 
see two fierce-looking mqn stretched on some hay in one cor- 
ner, fast asleep. I had presence of mind enough not to 
screarn, but careMIy shutting and locking the door, I flew 
back to ray husband. He was getting up, and seeing my 
pale face, seemed at once to guess what was the matter. 
** Anne/* said he, taking me by the hand, "do not be angry 
with rae« for I declare to you that it is my love for you that 
has made me do what I have done. You have heard of 
BrsH-RANGRRS, havo )ou not? they are escaped convicts 
who have lied from their masters, and live as they can. I 
could not bear to see you want many little comforts which 
yon so well deserve, and these men reward me, for shelter 
now and then, with many little things which you are glad of.'* 
I will not stop to describe ail that followed, or how on my 
knees I implored him to give up these men. He answered 
me at (!rst kindly, but at last, growing angry, desired 
me, with an on{h, to say no more about it. He then 
left nie, nor did I see him again all that day. He re- 
lumed at right much out of humour, but did not tell 
me where he had been, and I Avas afraid to ask. At last, 
after eating his supper in silence, he said ** The men 
you saw this morning will be here again presently, and 
ns yen are so mighty nice, you had better go to bed.*' I 
did not wail to be told twice. 1 went into my bed-room, 
and soon after two men entered. They talked for a 
long liire in whispers, but at length their voices were 
ntised, as if in anger, and these dreadful wonls met my 
ear— •• "Why Davies, you, who have been a con\ict yourself, 
might have some feeling for us !*' I heard no more, f 
sup{)osc I fainted ; for, when I recovered, I found myself on 
the bed, and my husband sprinkling water over rae. He 
never asked me what ailed me, and his manners towards 
roe, wV.ich had gradually been growing less kind, became 
from ihiJi time rough, and even surly. I bore all in silence: 
alas I had no remedy. I had no friend to turn to, and when 
I attempted tti reason with my husband on the bad company 
he was keeping, he silenced me with such words as 1 had 
never t>cfore been used to. 

Once I thougiu of going to Mrs. Atkins, and asking her 
counsel. We had a little cart and horse, in which the first 
three Sundays after our marriage my husband had driven 
roe into Sydney to goto church ; but no\vwhen T asked him 
to let me have it, he absolutely refused, and when 1 hinted 
about walking there, he only said I should be clever if I 
found my way among those wild hills, and that if I did 
stray, I, should meet with no one to set me right or bring me 
home. This was, I fell, but loo true, and a sense of my for- 
lorn siluaiion made my heart die within me. 

Time passed on, but my lot seemed to grow worse. I 
was likely to become a mother; but this circumstance did 
not, as I had hoped, soften my husbands heart towards me; 
on the contrary, it seetnecl to make him angry ; and 
he often complained of the burden a family would be 
to one in his condition. Indeed, poverty seemed likely 
soon to stare us in the face. Our farm was, I believe, 
good land, if it had been properly cultivated; but Davies 
had not sufTicient capital for this: and what was worse, 
1 had disc3vered soon after we married that he hated 
steady labour. His dislike for it indeed seemed to grow 
upon him, and now he would often be absent for days 
together. Sometimes he would return in good spirits, and 
talk of tlte pleasure of freedom, saying that men should not 
beset to lal>our like beasts* Oftener, however, he would be 
moody and cross, and when I asked him where he had been, 
told me to mind my own business, and not be prying into 
hts affairs. One evening — it was in the month of November, 
that is the end of Spring in Australia — I had gone out to 
enjoy the sweet breezes, and tlio beauty of the peach-trees, 
which were rich at once with fruit and blossoms. Mv 
lui^band had been absent for a day and a nighu and though 
iurrouiidcdcven in this wild spot with much to delight the 
e\c, my heart was too sad to enjoy it. 1 thought of my 
home in Kngland; there, indeetl, 1 had plenty of work and 
small wages, but I bad kindness, and I bad security. Here 
I felt in constant terror of I knew not what, and my bus 

band*8 unkindness made me wish for death to niose iry 
sorrows. 1 had seated myself beside a patch of the Incian 
wheat, which I had sown only a fortnight before, b'lt 
which, in this productive climate, was already a considerallo 
height, and was weeping bitterly as I thought of all these 
things, when suddenly 1 heard a rustling noise in the wood 
just behind me, and my husband sprang forwanl. Tho 
sight of him made rae tremble ; for nis face was pale and 
baggardt and his clothes torn and smeared with blood. 

"Anne," he said, in a hollow voice, "give me some food, 
for I'm famished." I followed him into the house, and set 
before him a bit of the dried flesh of the Kangaroo, which 
1 was boiling for sup|>cr, and a cake of rye bread. He 
devoured the food hastily, and then starting up, *' Anne,'* 
he said, " it s no use deceiving you. I joined a party of tlie 
bushrangers, in one of their excursions, and have, I fear, 
been found out. Even now, perhaps, those blood -hounds 
of policemen are after me. But it matters not ; I must 
have rest, for mv strength is gone. I have a safe hiding- 
place in the wootf ; do you keep watch for me there, (point- 
ing to the end of the garden, which openetl u|>on the barren 
country in fVont of the cottage) ; if you hear the sound of 
horses* feet, fly to the gate yonder, that opens into llie wood, 
and blow loudly upon this, staking a whistle from his 
pocket) ; before they can come up, I shall be where they 
cannot follow. As for you, no harm can come to you, get 
to Mrs. Atkins, and she will see after you ; for vou and I 
can never meet again ! I must fly for my life f I have 
been a bad husband to yov, Anne,«— but I must not waste 
time in words ; my strength will never hold out if I do not 
get some rest ! '* So saying, he left me, and I saw him go 
through the gate, and plunge into the wood. 

What were my feelings, I should in vain attempt to paint. 
I felt as if sudden madness would seize me. All I can 
distinctly remember was, that I sank down on my knees, 
and prayed to God to keep my senses* that I might preserve 
my husband's life; for even then, after all his cruel treat- 
ment of me, my one wish was to save hira. I tottered down 
to the end of the garden, and, sinking on the ground, re- 
mained there listening to every sounds till my heed was 
well-nigh gone. Hours seemed to pass in this way. Whe- 
ther it was night or day I knew not; I was alive to one 
feeling only,— the desire of catching ei^ery sound. At 
length the noise of horses* Ibet reached my ear ;— terror 
gave me strength ; — I flew to the wood, and whistled 
loudly, and heard a faiat whistle in return. I then ran into 
the liouse, fastened the door, and dragged against it all the 
furniture 1 could carry, in order that while they were 
making their way in, Davies might havo time to escape. 
I remember nothing after this till I opened my eyes in a 
comfortable little bed room in Geoi^ge Street, Sydney. 

I leanil afterwanls that wlien the policemen oaroe tip, 
they found me insensible on the floor; titey searched in vain, 
of course, ibr my husband, and too humane to leave me in 
that forlorn slate, one of Uiem lifted me on his horse, and 
carried me into Sydney. Just before they entered the 
town thcT met Mrs. Adams, well known to all there, as one 
who spent her time and her money in doing good. That 
excellent woman told them te bWng me to her house, and 
to her kindness, under Proridence, I owe my life. H«t 
care, too* was not for my body only, but for my soul ; and 
through her means it was that I was brought to a better 
state of mind, A premature confinement ot a dead infant 
was followed by weeks of sickness, during which Mrs. 
Adams attended me as if \ had been her daughter, and 
led me by her kind and gentle reasonings, to submit with 
meekness to my trials, and even to feel that ** it was good 
for me to be in trouble.*' 

I have little more to add: I rose up from tlic bed of 
sickness in a sadder, but, I trust, in a more Christian frame 
of mind. Of my husband 1 never heard more. Mrs. 
Aduras kept me with her for nearly a year, when a goo<l 
opportunity offering of my returning to England, she wrote 
a letter by me to her relation, Mrs. Carter, who was good 
enough to take me into her bouse, and has been the kindest 
of ftlends to me e\^r since. 

SciRNC«« the partisan of no country, but the beneficent 
patroness of all, has liberally opened a temple whore all 
may meet- Her influence on the mind, like that of the sun 
on the chilled earth, has long been preparing it for higher 
cultivation and further improvement. The philoso|>lier of 
one country sees not an enemy in the philosopher of anotlicr : 
he takes his seat in the temple of science, and asks not who 
sits hesido him. — ? 



[March 2, 1839 


No. XI.. 

On Elasticity. 

The school- boy who sticks his knife into the desk 
and causes it to oscillate by striking the handle, 
illustrates a fundamental property of matter, namely, 
elasticity, which consists in the retorn of a body to 
its original state when the cause is removed which 
alters it in form or in bulk. 

Bodies display various degrees of elasticity. Air 
is said to be perfectly elastic, because if a gallon of* 
air be compressed into a pint, it will recover its 
former dimensions when the pressure is removed. 

Liquids are also perfectly elastic although it re- 
quires an enormous force to diminish their volume 
slightly; but they regain their original bulk when 
the pressure is removed. 

Solids can scarcely be called otherwise than im- 
perfectly elastic : but the degrees of elasticity are so 
very various in solids, that the terms perfect and im- 
perfect can by no means be applied to them as a 
whole class. 

If we take an. ivory billiard ball and allow it to 
fall upon a smooth slab of marble, it will bound up 
again to the hand, and this is a proof of the elasticity 
of ivory ; but how ? We will inquire a little further 
into the observed phenomena. 

If we cover the slab of marble with a thin layer 
of oil, and allow the ball to fall upon it, from the 
height of five or six feet, we shall find a large cir^ 
cular mark upon the. slab larger than a sixpence; 
whereas, if we simply place the ball upon the slab, it 
will displace a mere speck of the oil. We must, 
therefore, conclude that the ball in falling from a 
height' and striking the marble with' great force, has 
actually undergone a change in form: that it has 
been flattened at its lower part, or how could it pos- 
sibly displace so large a surface of oil ? But we ex- 
amine the hard ivory ball and can detect no such flat- 
tening, for the ball appears to us to be still perfectly 
round and smooth * we therefore find it difficult to be- 
lieve that the ball has undergone any change in form. 
' Bfit when the point of a penknife is stuck into the 
desk, we can bend the blade considerably by drawing 
the handle on one side; and then, if we allow it to 
go free, we shall find that it oscillates or vibrates on 
both sides of the position it occupies when at rest, 
and is curved first in one direction and then in the 
other. After these operations we examine the knife 
and find the blade as straight as it was before all 
these bendings occurred» and we conclude that during 
vibration the blade lost its original form, which; how- 
ever, it has now recovered. 

If this conclusion is so easy, why may we not also 
conclude that the ivory ball became flattened the 
moment it met the marble surface, but instantly re- 
covered its original form, and in doing so acquired 
sufficient force to bound up again to a considerable 
height ? 

> If we allow a ball of lead to fall upon the marble 
slab, we shall obtain something like proof that the 
conclusion just enquired after is the true one. We 
shall find the under surface of the ball to be perma- 
nently flattened, and not recovering its original form 
the instant it is struck, it will not bound up again 
nearly so high as the ivory ball. Hence we reason- 
ably affirm that lead is less elastic than ivory. 

If we disturb a body from its accustomed position 
beyond certain limits, one of three events will occur. 
First, it will return, exactly to its original position; or 
secondly, it will finally settle into a position some- 
where between its original and its constrained posi- 



tion ; or thirdly, it will break. Bodies, therefore, are 
said to be most elastic which admit of the greatest 
disturbance from their original position, and regain 
it when the disturbing cause is removed: thus a steel 
spring is more elastic than a strip of glass, because 
it will recover from a greater disturbance, which 
would effectually snap the glass asunder ; ' but both 
these bodies are perfectly elastic if they recover pre- 
cisely their original position. Hence the distinction 
between perfectly and extensively elastic. 

The modes of disturbance, too, are very various; 
some bodies are compressed, others bent, or stretched, 
or twisted, and some are struck. Thus silken strings 
are more extensively elastic than silver or copper wire, 
because they can be bent more : the strings of a 
violin are more elastic than iron-wire, because they 
can be stretched more, and so on. 

A great number of instruments in daily use depend 
for their action upon the more or less perfect elasticity 
of the materials which enter wholly or partly into 
their construction : a piece of steel coiled up, sets a 
machine in motion in its endeavour to uncoil itself: 
this is the case in the watch and clodc, and the object 
of winding them up is to bend the steel spring into a 
coil. In a modem invention elastic Vhairs aind beds 
are stuffed with iron- wire, instefid of feathers : and 
yet the chair and the bed are delightfully easy to sit 
in, or repose on : the wire is arranged in the form of 
spiral springs, and hence the value of the invention. 
Spring balances are constructed on the principle of 
the perfect elasticity of some of the metals. 
Thus, in. fig. 1, a cylindrical case contains a 
steel spiral spring coiled round a graduate 
bar, and fixed at the lower extremity. This 
arrangement is called a spring steelyard, by 
which heavy goods are weighed, as follows : 
the instrument is hung up by the ring at a, 
the goods to be weighed are attached to the 
hook B : the upper termination of the spiral 
spring is not fixed, but presses against the 
under surface of the top of the cylinder. 
The action of a weight at b is to diminish 
the spaces between the coils of the spring, 
and consequently to draw out the graduated 
rod, and the number of graduations thus 
presented to the eye, gives the number of 
pounds attached to the hook b. The value of this 
instrument depends upon the correctness of the 
graduated rod, and the perfect elasticity of the spiral 

Fig. 2 is a somewhat similar arrangement The 
complete circle is the outline of a ' 
graduated face, similar to that of a 
clock. . It is seen from behind 
where the steel spring forms an 
irregular curve, the flexures of 
which give motion to a ratchet 
wheel communicating with an 
index hand in front of the dial- 
plate. A large scale pan is attached 
to the bottom part in which the 
goods to be weighed are placed. 
This arrangement is so convenient, that it is exten- 
sively employed in coach and wagon offices, railway 
station houses, &c. 

The reader will now be prepared to accompany us 
through several amusing and instructive details on 
the elasticity of airs, liquids, and solids, which will 
form the subjects of the next three or four articles. ;; 



Vmcz Sizvmcs. 
Sold by aU BookaeUm mad NewvrradOTt ia the KiafdoBi. 



h^tuvif^^ M^^^^int^ 




I II I N E. No. I. 

here is uty river in Europe more celebrated for 
magnitude ind pulitical importance of tlie evcnti 
:b have occunvd od or near ite banks, it is the 
le. The gigantic traffic carried on at London 
I to tbe Thamet a degree of importance wbicb 
Id not be derived from the other towns on its 
i*i bat the Rhine is literally studded along its 
«t with towna and cities which have had a stamp 
dcbrity given to tbem, either hy the natural beau- 

of their aittiation, or by the hlBtorical events 
:h baTe occurred there. Deriving its birth in the 
atainous districts of Switzerland, this noble river 
I into the lalie of Constaoz, (or Constance,) at 
east, and emerges from it at the west, flowing 
tward, past Schaffhausen, to Basle. Here it takes 
irtbem direction towards Strasbourg, passing by 
A it Sows near Baden and Carlsruhe : thence by 
inheim to Mayence. leaving Frankfort on the 
Be (> tributary to the Rhine,) a short distance 
he right, we come to Coblentz. — thence to Bona 

to Cologne. Dusseldorf, Wessel, and a few 
e towna, at length bring us to the mouths of the 
w. On either hand are a great number of import- 
:itiea and towns which have not entered into this- 

Among the most distinguished of the places which 
we have mentioned, is Stratboiirif, (which is also 
called Btratburg and Stra»burgh). It is the capital of 
the Department of the Bas Rhin, or Lower Rhine, ia 
France, and is situated at the extreme eastern end Of 
the kingdom. Before the Revolution, France waa 
divided into about thirty provinces ; but among the 
changes which occurred at that eventful period, was 
the substitution of departmtnts far provincet. France 
was parcelled out on a new system into nearly a 
hnndred small piirtions, each of which was called « 
department ; and these were named, generally speak- 
ing, after the principal river which flowed through 
them. The department of the Lower Rhine, in which 
Strasbourg is situated, together with that of the 
Haut Rhin, or Upper Rhine, comprise together pretty 
nearly the ancient province of AUaee. 

Alsace was, in early times, a German Dntchy ; bat 
in 1 268 the Lne of its dukes becoming extinct, it was 
parcelled out to several members of the German 
empire. By the peace of Monster, in 1G4B, the part 
of Alsace belonging to Austria, and to ten free cities 
of the empire, was ceded to France. Several states 
of the empire had still important possessions in it, 
which, at the beginning of the revolution. th« €«& 



[March i. 

national assembly declared to be a 60Tlqtiest pointed 
oat by iiatare herself; because, as they urged, foreign 
powers couhi not be allowed to retain possessions 
within the territory fif France without danger. Com- 
pensation was promised for the losses sustained by 
the German owners. Few of them, however, were 
willing to accept it, and this affair was one of the 
cliief causes of the war which took place soon after- 
wards between France and Germany. By the Peace 
of Paris, Nov. 20, 1815, a part of Alsace, viz. Laudau, 
was again separated from France, and re-united with 
Germany ; but the remainder, including Strasbourg, 
still continued a part of France. It may easily be 
imagined that a city, thus situated, as it were, between 
two great kingdoms, has frequently been the seat of 
war. \\\ the early part of the summer of 1796, when 
the French army crossed the Rhine, and entered 
GerrtiBlijr, Strasbourg became a scene of conflict. In 
the autumn of the same year, when the French were 
expelled fri>m Franeonia, Kehl, with its bridge leading 
to Strasbourg, very nearly fell into the hands of the 
enemy. Again, in l708, it was contested ground 
between the French Imd the Attstrtans. 

Strasbourg is not actually lituated on the Rhine^ 
but about half a mile to the wttt of it, at the ccmflu* 
ence of two small trlbntftrlei tu the Rhine, the Brusche 
and the llle. tit longitude It 7* 46'£.; and latitude 
4.^'' ;td' N. The l<iwti is Mimewhai id the form of a 
seinif'ireke, atid is bnilt oil A plain. It la aituated in 
a fcTtile oountfxi iind it well adtpted for trade, tince 
the Rhine contiectt 11 With Switieflatid on the ttiuth, 
ar.d With the Netheflandt on the nonh« The fortifi- 
catifint are f er y ettentirt, and tht city It entered by 
seven i^fet. Towtrdt the estt It « eltadeh 

Althottgh there are out of two good streets in 
Strathottrf, Jrei they ^tt, generally tbeaking, ?ery 
narrow, The houtet are kifty, but dencient in ele* 
gancei and are mottljr built of a kind of red stone, 
found in the neighbiiuflng quarriet. The city is 
interMHrted in tariinia directlont bv canals, over which 
are f-arried nnmeMus wooden bridges. But there is 
one wtNiden bftd|(e at Strasbourg, which is said to be 
the fiiif fft bridge in Bufope, of that material, its length 
beiu&( 300U feet, which is more than three times the 
length of Waterloo bridge. The streets are about 
two iiundred in number, besides several squares, 
pluces, &c. The Place d'Arm^e is a square sur- 
rounded with good buildings. It is frequented as a 
public walk. But there are two other places which 
are greater favourites as public walks, or promenades. 
One of these is the Coutadine^ adjoining the city 
walls ; and the other is the Rupthorshaut, which is a 
iine meadow, divided into a number of alleys, or 
avenues, bordered with trees. There is also a plea- 
sant suburban retreat, called Roberlsau, which is a 
little island at the south-east of the town, encom- 
passed by the Rhine and the llle. It consists of a 
neat village and a few country houses, and is laid out 
in many parts with gravel walks, &c. A trip to 
Robertsau, by the Strasbourgers, resembles in some 
degree those of the Londoners to Hampstead or 
Richmond. When Mrs. Trollope visited Robertsau, 
she saw abundant preparation for entertaining visitors. 

The population of Strasbourg is between fifty and 
sixty thousand. The religion of the inhabitants 
seems to have been considerably influenced by the 
changes which have taken place in the government of 
the province in which it is situated. Strasbourg was 
one of the first cities of importance to embrace the 
Reformation ; and it had a majority of Protestants 
among its inhabitants until the latter end of the 
Beventecnth century. It was subjected to France in 
1689, and from that time the proportion of Catholics 

hat increased : at present there are supposed to be 
twice as many Catholics as Protestant.^. Tiie ancient 
bishopric of Strasbourg has been secularized, and is 
now incorporated with France and Baden. It con- 
tained five hundred square miles, and about three 
hundred thousand inhabitants. 

Strasbourg is well supplied witn public buildings 
of almost every description. It contains the far- 
famed cathedral, six Catholic churches, seven Luthe- 
ran, and one Reformed. Among its buildings devoted 
to education, to charitable purposes, or to amusement, 
are, — a Lutheran academy or university, a Royal 
Academy, a High School, a Medical School, a Botank 
Garden, two public libraries, two hospitals, a theatre, 
&c. We shall proceed to make a few remarlu on 
such of these as are worthy to be particnlariJDed :«^ 
and first and foremost, the Cathedral. 

The cathedral or minster was founded in 101fl,Intt 
not finished until 136.5. It is one of the moat dis- 
tinguished Gothic strnctnres in Europe. The towtr 
is 474 feet high, being the highest in Borope« and 
only a few feet lower than the {celebrated pyramM of 
Gezeh, in Egypt The tower wat planned and began 
by Erwin, of Steinbach ; but, dying In 1318, b« bad 
not the pleaaure of witnetaing the completioii ef Ms 
noble work, which devolved on bit brotbef. ITie 
cathedral, seen from a distanee. Is detoribed at having 
rather the appearance of a model, conalracted with 
fine wires, than of an enormona atnictiirt of atofle. 
The elegant curves of Itt Spiral atalreaac are leta 
from top to bottom^ and the light la pef mitttd to put 
through it on all tidet, with a regalarltr In the km 
of the apertoret, which givaa the idea m a litiiapaffeat 
embnndery of fiowert. 

After praising the main body of the bttUdlngr ^ 
being put together with admirable tymmetrjr of pro- 
portion-, Mr. Russell, in hit Travclt In Oertoatty» prt- 
ceedt to say, that the harmony of proportion aniid the 
elegance of workmanthip appear to atill greater id- 
vantage in the spire, whose mere elevation^ (neiriy 
500 feet), formt, in the estimation of thoae who love 
the marvellous more than the beautifol, the aKHt 
remarkable feature in the cathedral. There ii nothiiig 
uncommim in the general form or outline of iht 
tower. The massive base terminates Jnat at the point 
where, to the eye, it would become too heavy for the 
elevation, and it is succeeded by the lofty, slender 
spire, so delicately ribbed that it hardly seems to be 
supported, and bearing, almost to its pinnacle, a pro* 
fusion of Gothic ornaments. Yet there is no super* 
fluity or confusion of ornament about the edifice i-' 
there is no crowding figure upon figure, merely fbf 
the sake of having sculpture. With more it woold 
have approached the tawdry and puerile ; — with leti 
it would have been as dead and heavy as the catlie- 
dral of Ulm, which, though exquisite in partieulif 
details of sculpture, yet, without being more imposing^ 
wants all the grace and elegance of the fabric ef 

When we consider that this cathedral is 130 feet 
higher than that of St. Paurs at London, we voMf 
form some idea of the labour of making an ascent V9 
the top of the spire. The number of steps to rca^ 
it is 725, and the nature of the task may be gue ttt d 
from the following passage from Mrs. Trollope*^ 
•* Belgium aud Western Germany." 

I entered the onurchwith the intention of climbing to tb^ 
top uf its spire, but gave it up on listening to the Smerif 
tan*8 account of tlie aiscent. My son, however, who is ntf^ 
easily discouraged by threatened faligue, persevered in hi^ 
doterrainatloti, and achieved the enterpriie ; but confessed # 
when it wet over, that it was neiihur eaitv nor atfreealtla* - 
Above half the tremendous liei^ht is scaled by Mepn on th# 
outside of the soire ' uud although iheac are protected by t 




rail, U is 80 bH^1)|, mid its supports are so 4istlinl from w^h 
olber« tbat it tdke« but MuXs fww iUi horrors* U ijs oi) rf^coid 
tlial three females b«ve been, a tdiflferent times, so over- 
powered by the giddy eminence which they have reached, 
vhen climbing it, that they have thrown themselves off, in 
a momentary fit of deUriom, and been dashed to atoms. ' 
The latǤt of theso awful accidents occurred within tfae last 
ieQ y«ajns ; and the man who rficountod the tale to Henry, 
vbile ha was stan4ing on the s^lf-bame pionaple, told him 
tbat he had himsulf \yitne;>sed it. He saixl that the unfur^ 
tunate creature was quite a young giil : and the first symp- 
tom she gave of her senses wavering, was excessive mirth. 
She laughed and shouted, as if in an ecstacy ; and having 
jfiaaehed a ^lint where nothing intercepted faer view of the 
abyss Ualow, aha «praug off, scr^^aming wildly as elie fell. 
*Tbe kouod of that cry, as she passed do^vn, was terrible/ 
l»aid the guide. Terrible ioU^ed { too much to bear think- 
ing of. 

We W9y remarkj tbjat b. number of little statues 
vhicb surround the great western gateway of the 
catb^dralf are said to be by the band of a female, 
wbo w^ daughter to the architect of the tower. 

O^e of the remarkable objects which attract tbe 
attention of visiters to Strasbourg, is the cathedral 
fk>A, described ifx QVJ Third Vgjuoie, p. 156. 


On Soap. 2. 

T0^ 0ommoai motlkd »o8p is pr^)ared somewhat 
difteiKotly by djAr«o<t lasnufai^turersj bii|; ibe fol* 
]Qwiug mtBf }ie takea as A genera} outline of tbe pro* 
0esm. V ^tfiAsb k^ the §U»Ai employed^ it is dissolved 
witb valer 19 a sioaU buikr over a slow fire, and tb^ 
BolviioQ iM pornittd mu^ a vat containing coma»on wood- 
asWs mice<jl wiib linie. This filters through the 
asbca, and is tb#a caUed the first ley. The ashes are 
tfee« ItfJiaed, a Ulth mone linae is added to tbejn, fresh 
water i« paBred no, and a sfcondley is obtained. A large 
boiler is (b«n supf^iiad s^itb (be requisite quantity of 
tailtiw, to whicb «bpnt twn-tbird« of tbe first ley is 
ttdded* aad a aind#ra^ beat is applied untU tbe in- 
gmedients ans i#corpnrat«d« wjbdcb is indicated by their 
aMvaniflg iba «^wiaist99ne of stijf glue. If tbis should 
not take place in about sayan hours, (witb 29 cwt of 
taUov in tbe boiler,) mof« hy is added. Tbis pro* 
oeaa kUk tba tallow, as it is technically called ; and 
vb«n tbi(B is e0e^ed, tbe S/« is slackisned. and the 
nuMteriaifi left 9l rest for soo»e time, Comn^)n salt is 
tbea addted, and iitirred iu witb tbe otber ingredients, 
tta<4l tbe wbole assumes tbe iconaistence of a tbin 
soapy substan^. Tbe mi;ctnre if tben boiled for a 
few vHButea, and afierwarda left to settle for an bour 
or two5 bf wbicb means tbe sp^mt ley sinks to the 
boMooi, and is pumped off. 

An exactly sisaiUr train of operations is now per- 
fernaed with tbe second, or w^sd^er ley; viz., boiling 
'Vith the tallow, adding the salt, and pumping ojT 
Ite lexilaattsted ley. Again, n ftbicd time, tbese pi^r 
^Dssses are performed, witb oner tbird part of the firat 
Jey, 'A'hicb waa reserved. 

Tht mlKture is tben boiled for about tbree hours, 
«tAtil« by ofseasional trials, it feels sufficiently fiim 
aad dry to tbe touch, and tbe ley runs tsX^MX off, 
ieaviag the aoap in small lumps. The boiling is tken 
Auisbed, and tbe apent ley is finally pumped pf^ after 
urbicb a froth, which bas collacted on tbe /surface of 
4be soap, is scraped off, and the soap is fit fpr/rajnin^, 
wJUbch conttsts of pouring tbe mixture into woodeii 
troughs with moveable bottoms. When stiff tmougb 
to be handled^ it is taken out, |ind cut into oblong 
pieces^ and set to dry and harden iu Au airy room. 

It is considered, as stated by Dr. Aikiu, that six- 
teeu bushels of good wood-asbes are e^udi^ with ro^- 
pect to the alkali they contain^ to 09a cwt. qf tl^ b^t 

pejirl^asb, and that this latter quantity will saturate 
two cwt of tallow, and produce three and a quarter 
Gwt» of soap J so that twelve parts of tallow will make 
about twenty of soap. Twelve bushels of woodrasbes 
are also considared equal to one ewt. of barilla, and 
tbe Utter quantity will saturate one and a half cwt 
of tallow. The boiling of twentyruiue cwt. of tallow 
with teu cwt, of bariJla, and five cwt. of pearlasb, 
requires about eight cwt. of common salt. The effect 
of the addition of tbie salt i» considered to be two*- 
fold : 1st, it produces the graining, qt separation of 
the soap from the spent ley, and, 2nd, if tbe alkali 
be principally potash, the soap remains in the state 
of a soH pasty mass, until the addition of tbe salt i 
whereas, if soda be the alkali, the salt is not necessnry. 

Tbe process of making yellow si>ap is very similar 
to the foregiung ; but the iogredients are diffenen^ 
To make 64 cwt. of tbis soap, tbe following are giv^n 
as the iugredinnts :— rtwenty*five ^wt. of tallow, sev^n 
cwt, of resin, eigbreen cwt, vf bi»rij)a, ten $wt. gf 
black ailn;s, aud half a cwt, ot' p^im-oii. 

It has been suppos«fd by some chemists that b^ 
is not chemically necessary in these processes j b$^t 
that strong ley and long digestiou would sulfipe. 

What are called fancy soaps, such as F**enx^hrwbit|e 
soap, Windsorrsoap, i^c, are made of materials^ 
and by processes, somewhat differjeut fn^n those w^ 
have been describing. To make one thousand lbs, of 
French-white soap, the materials have been stated as 
five hundred lbs. of barilla, six hundred lbs. of lAiv^ 
oil, and one hundred lbs. of quicklime. The barilla 
and the lime are steeped in water for two or three 
days, after which the liquor is drawn off, and is found 
to be a strong soda^ley, extracted trom the barilla • 
the ley must have that di^gree oi fionoeutra.tiou that $, 
fresh egg will swim in it> A seeo^id imd a third ley, 
ea^b weaker than the fora»er, are pre|>ari^d in the sama 
way. Tbe exbanated barilla is useii ^r manure. 

The oil and the third ley sf* then tailed, during 
which the second ley is addad gradnaUy, A^it#r soma 
hours* boiling, the mixture beamxis first milky, and 
then thick and tenacious. Tbe gr<^a(#st portion of the 
strongest ley is now added* and th» wbola kapt eon- 
atantly stirred. Tbe mii^tnre now begins to separata 
into a thick soapy substance, and a clear liquid, and goes 
on thus till the separation is aomplata. When this eona- 
dition is attained, the spent ley is drawn off, and the 
soap tried -, when, if it be not su^ieotly iM^naolidated^ 
more ley is addfid, and the boihag repeated. The 
aoap is then finished much ia the manner which we 
have before described. 

WeL sometimes see marbled aoape* Tb^e are mad« 
by mixing black oxide« or brown oxide oi' iron, with 
the other materials, in such a manner as to be ouly 
partially incorporated with them, and thus to leave a 
streak iness. 

* It will be seen that t^low waa used in the Snglish 
aoap before described ; whereas olive oil was used in 
the French soap, which difference is very generally 
observ#;d between the soaps made in the two countries. 
It will likewise be observed, that no salt was used in 
tbe French soap. Tbis was because the alkali was 
ioda iasUw^ of poifishf 

Pi^ll^tier, tbe celebrated French chemis^t, m«de 
some experiments on the comparative merits of 
different oily bodies as a material for soap; from 
which it appeared, that a certain weight either of 
jiard, aaet, or butter, produced a greater quantity of 
hard soap, than the same waigbt of any one of 
several different kinds of oij. 

Soft soap differs fivnj those which wc have been 
describing prineipally in the circumstance that potjash 
m nsed without aaU. und th^rkove. 4kOfifi not har4«a 




[Ma&ch 9, 


when combined with the oil or tallow, which forms 
the other ingredient. The proportions of the ingre- 
dients used in its manufacture arc stated by Dr. Ure, 
from the information of a Glasgow soap-boiler, to be 
as follow : — 273 gallons of whale or cod oil, and four 
cwt of tallow, are put into the boiler, with 252 gallons 
of potash-ley, of such strength that one gallon contains 
6600 grains of real potash. It is then heated, and 
acquires a thin gluey consistency : fourteen measures, 
each holding twenty-one gallons, of strong ley, are 
then added by degrees ; and the whole is boiled until 
it attains the state in which it is known as so/t-foap, 
the quantity of which from the above ingredients is 
one hundred firkins, of sixty-four pounds each. 

Toilette- soaps are made either as a paste, or in the 
solid state : in the former case the alkali employed 
being potash, and in the latter case soda. The oily 
ingr^ient is either hogs' lard, butter, suet, palm-uil, 
nut-oil, or oil of sweet almonds. Tiie rationale of 
the manufacture of these soaps is much the same as 
that of the other soaps that we have described, except 
that more care is bestowed upon the preparation of 
the fancy soaps. 

Dr. Watson has stated that there is a district near 
Xen-si, in China, in which a kind of natural soap,' 
called Kien, is produced from the ground. After rain 
has fallen, if the sun shine, there rise out uf the 
earth thick frothy bubbles, which are collected by the 
natives, and used for such purposes as we should 
employ soap. 

On Soap. 3. 

There are different kinds of spring-water, but all 
may be included under two heads ; viz., Aard and soft. 
If water, in the process of emerging from the ground, 
come into contact with gypsum, (sulphate of lime,) or 
chalk, or limestone (carbonate of lime), which are most 
abundant minerals, a portion of them is dissolved by 
the water. Now these substances are insoluble in 
soft or pure water : but if the water be impregnated 
with carbonic acid, (and all water exposed to the 
atmosphere contains more or less of this acid,) it 
dissolves them, in proportion as the carbonic acid is 
abundant. Such water is called hard, because it will 
not dissolve soap, but decomposes it. Soft water, 
on the contrary, has no action on soap, except that 
of dissolving it ; and therefore it is desirable to em- 
ploy the latter whenever soup is used as a detergent. 

When soap is rubbed with soft water, a smooth, 
oily feeling is communicated to the hands, which is 
not perceived when hard water is employed ; in the 
latter case there is a gritty feeling, and a quantity of 
insoluble curdy matter is produced, which impedes 
the action of the water upon the soap. Now soap, 
as we have seen, is a compound of an alkali and a 
fatty or oily matter. The latter contains two acids, 
margaric and oleic, which show a considerable ten- 
dency to unite with lime ; and at the same time the 
alkali of the soap has an equal tendency to unite 
with sulphuric acid. The sulphuric acid is derived 
from the sulphate of lime contained in the hard 
water; and, as the soap contains an alkali, united 
to fat, mutual decomposition takes place : — the 
sulphuric acid unites with the soda of the soap, 
and remains in solution, and the lime unites with the 
margaric and oleic acids ; all these form the white 
curdy matter spoken of above. 

If the hard water contain carbonic instead of sul- 
phuric acid, the same result is produced; except that 
the former acid unites with the lime, and forms car- 
bonate of lime, instead of sulphate. 

Soap will dissolve in alcohol ; and this solution is 
employed in chemistry, to distinguish hard from soft 

water. If a few drops of this solution be put into 
pure water (that is, water containing no acids and 
no lime in combination with acids, and no earthy 
matters, &c.), the two liquids will mix without change, 
or decomposition of any kind ; but if a few drops of 
this solution be added to hard water, the liquid will 
become thick and muddy, from the formation of the 
white curdy matter. Of course some waters are 
harder than others 3 and the degree of opacity pro- 
duced by a given quantity of the solution of soap in 
different waters will direct us in forming a rough 
estimate of the saline and earthy contents of each. 
Hard water may also be distinguished from soft, by 
placing a few thin slices of soap in a glass of the 
water. Hardness will be indicated by curdy particles 
and white flakes around these slices. If the water 
be soft, and the soap not too abundant, the latter will 
be entirely dissolved. 

The presence of acids alone in water, without lime 
or other mineral or earthy bodies, will also prevent 
the solution of soap. Their action is to extract the 
alkali from the soap; so that the fatty matters, 
being deprived of the alkali which rendered them 
soluble, have nothing else to make them dissolve. 

It is a very common practice in farm-houses and 
cottages, to filter water thn)ugh the ashes of their 
wood-fires, when such ashes are no longer inflam* 
mable. For this purpose a conical vessel, generally 
made of flannel, is suspended from a wooden frame: 
in the flannel- cone the wood-ashes are placed, and 
then water is poured on, which filters slowly through 
into a pan or bucket, placed underneath to receive it 
This liquor is termed in most counties ley, and is used 
with, or supplies the place of, soap. It acts as a 
detergent, by combining with the gre«»sy matters of 
dirty linen, and (by rendering them soluble in water), 
removes them : so that, if soap be used with the \tj, 
the former is greatly economized. Hard water, in 
fact, becomes soft through this process. 

The substance extracted from the wood-asbcs ia 
known by the name of pearl-ash, from its round 
pearly shape ; and from the circumstance of its being 
produced from ashes. This substance is an alkali. 
It is an impure carbonate of potash, and exists ready 
formed in almost all trees, plants, and vegetable sub- 
stances. In America, where wood is abundant, vast 
quantities of pearl-ash are made by burning vegetable 
matter to ashes by a slow fire in kilns, or pits dog ia 
the ground, whereby much of the ash is saved, which 
would be dissipated if burnt in the open air. 

Pearl-ash is often indispensable to the laundress ia 
the washing of clothes, being necessary where soft 
water cannot be procured. If sulphate of lime be 
the cause of hardness in the water, and pearl-ash be 
added, the sulphuric acid of the lime quits the lime 
to unite with the potash, to the exclusion of the 
carbonic acid; the sulphuric acid and potash (sul' 
phate of potash) remain suspended in the water i 
and this compound does not leave the water hardy 
since the sulphuric acid does not unite with the soda 
of the ,soap, because it has as great an affinity foe* 
potash as for soda. The lime falls down as an in" 
soluble powder, and the soap is perfectly dissolved 
without decomposition. Crude carbonate of soda i^ 
often employed instead of pearl-ash, m which casC 
the soap is not decomposed, because the soda of th0 
soap does not quit it to unite with soda $ nor doe^ 
the sulphuric acid of the lime attach itself to thi0 
soda of the soap, because there is enough of fre^ 
soda thrown into the water for its purpose. 

Superciliousness and knowledge, are but taraly (bm 
tenants of an individual mind. — Maund. 



No. III. 
CsosB-BowB AND Bows AND Arrows. 
LI. vanity frequeotly carries ua a great way in 
Ig to Englishtnea the poBSessiun of powers 
I anperior to thoae of any nther nation. This is 
remely unjust to our continental neighbours ; 
respect to archery, it appears to be coDsistent 
tb, for many circumstances combiae to aa- 
tbat the English archers of the oldea time 
those of every other country. 
tears probable that archery was introduced 
[land by William the Couqueror, and that its 
loally extended, until it became a military 

But we have little evidence of the use of 
, aatil the reign of Edward III, when an 
kS issued to the sheriffs uf most of the English 
, fiir providing 500 white bowa and 500 bun- 
arrows, fur the then intended war against 

Similar orders are repeated in the fallowing 
with this difference only, that the sheriff of 
Lersbire is directed to furnish 500 painted 
I well as the same number of while, 
tmous battle of Cressy introduces us both to 
-bow and to the cross-bow, or arbaliat, and 
ative merits were tested by the following cir> 
ice: — Previously to the engagement there fell 
•bower of rain, which is said to have much 
1 tbe crots-buws of the French, or perhaps 
tie atringa of them. Now the loag-bow, when 
1^ may be very conveniently covered, so as to 
the rain fn>m injuring it} whereas the arba- 
:rou-buw, is of a must inconvenient form to 
ered from tbe weather. 

arta of the long-bow is familiar to us, but that 
:ro«s-bow requires a little description. The 
iw was much shorter than the long-bow, and 
xned upon a stock or handle, and discharged 
is of a catch or trigger, which probably gave 
be lock on the modern musket. Our cngra- 
[»«seats two cross-bowmen, one of whom is 
; up his bow to its fullest extent, and tbe other 
lented as having just let fly tbe arrow. 
E battles in which the English were engaged — 
»s against the French, and at other times 
the Scotch — for so many centuries, the long- 
s tbe most valaed of all the English arms. In 
goiiMuy battle fonght between tbe English 
Itch at Uomildon, in 1403, the men-at-arms 
' struck a blow, but were mere spectators of 
lor and victory of the archers. The Earl of 
I, who commanded the Scottish army in that 
enraged to see his men falling thick around 
■bowera of arrows, and trosting to the good- 

ness of his armour, (which had been three ycara 
making,) accompanied by about eighty lords, knights, 
and gentlemen, in complete armonr, rushed forward 
and attacked the EngUsh archers, sword in hand. 
But he soon had nason to repent his rashness. The 
English arrows were so sharp and strong, aod dii- 
charged witii so much force, that no armonr could 
repel them. The Earl of Douglas, after receiving five 
wounds, was made prisoner, and all bia brave compao 
niona were either kUled or taken. 

During the reign of Edward IV. an act passed that 
every Englishman, and Irishman dwelling with En- 
glishmen, shall have an English bow uf his own 
height, which is directed to be made of yew, wych, 
hazel, ash, or awhurne, or any other reasonable tree, 
according to their- power. The next chapter alia 
directs that butts shall be made in every township, 
which tbe inhabitants are obliged to shoot at every 
feast day, under the penalty of a halfpenny when they 
shall omit the exercise. 

In the reign of Henry VIII. three acts were passed 
for promoting tbe practice of shooting with the long- 
bow: one prohibited the use of cross-bows: another 
was occasioned by a complaint from the bowyers, the 
fletchers or arrow-makers, the stringers, and the 
arrow-head makers, stating that many unlawful games 
were practised in the open fields, to the detriment of 
the public morals and great decay of archery. These 
games were therefore strictly prohibited by parliament. 
The third act obliged every man, being the king's 
subject, to exercise himself with shooting with the 
long-bow, and also to keep a bow with arrows conti- 
nually in his house. From this obligation were ex- 
cepted such as were sixty years old; or by lameness, 
or any other reasonable impediment, claimed an ex- 
emption ; and also all ecclesiastics, the justices of the 
two benches, or of the assizes, and the barons of the 
exchequer. Fathers and guardians were commanded 
to teach the male children the use of the long-bow, 
and to have at all times bows provided for tbem, as 
soon as they arrived at the age of seven years ; and 
masters were ordered to find bows for their appren- 
tices, and to compel them to learn to shoot with them 
at holidays, and other convenient times. By virtue of 
tbe same act every man who kept a cross-bow in his 
house was liable to a penalty of ten pounds. 

Roger Ascbam, an author well versed in the subject 
of archery, and who lived in the reign of Queen Eliza- 
beth, gives many directions concerning the proper 
equipment for archery. H« says it was necessarr to 
have a bracer, or close sleeve, upon the left arm, and 
which should be made of materials sufficiently rigid 
to prevent any folds, which might impede the bow- 
string when loosed from the band ; to this waa to be 
added a shooting glove for tbe protection of the fin- 
gers. The bow, be tells us, ought to be made with 
well-seasoned wood, and formed with great exactness, 
tapering from the middle towards each end. Bows 
were sometimes made of brazil-wood, of asb, of elm, 
and ot several other woods; hut yew was generally 
preferred. With respect to the bow-string, the autiior 
was not decided in his preference; those made with 
good hemp, in accordance with the common usage of 
the time in which he lived, those manufactured from 
flax, and those from silk, might be left to the decision 
of Uie string-maker. There are, Ascbam tells us, 
three essential parts in the composition of an arrow, 
that is to say, the stele or wand, the feather, and the 
head. The stele was not alwaya made of the same 
species of wood, but varied aa occasion required, to 
suit the different manners of shooting practised by 
the archers. He commends sound ash fur mititwr] 
arrows, aod prcftned it to m^, -wtoat*. ■«» "M^Nii!* ^ 



[March 9 

generally used fr>r the arrows belonging to the army } 
but fur pastime he thought that none wcra better than 
those made of oak or birch : bat after all, says h; I 
hold it better to trust to tha recommendation of an 
honest fletcher. The feathers of the wing of a goose, 
and especially of a gray goosa, he thought were pre<* 
ferable to any others for the pluming of an arrow. 
Thus in the popular ballad of Chevy Chase, an English 
archer aimed his arrow at Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, 
with such skill that it him on the breast, and 

Tbe grey-gooso wlnge that was thereon 
In his heart's blood was wett. 

Aacham proceeds to give full directions for the 
mods of using the bow. In drawing tbe bow- string, 
the right band was, in ancient times, drawn to the 
breast, bat Aacham prefers tha method of elevatiog 
it to th« right ear. The shaft of the arrow below tb$ 
feathers ought to be rested upon the knuckle of tbe 
forefingers of the left hand ; the arrow was to be 
drawn to the head, and not held too long in that situ- 
ation t but neatly and smartly discharged, without 
any banging upon the string. Arooog the requisites 
nacessary to constitute a good archer are a clear sight, 
steadily directed to the mark ; and proper judgment 
to deteriniaa the distance of the ground. He ought 
also to koow how to take advantage of a ^Ide wind, 
mid to be veil acquainted with what compass his 
arrows would require in their flight. Courage is also 
aa iadispansable requisite, fi}r whoever^ says Ascham, 
sboots with tbe least trepidation, is su^'e tg shoot badly. 
Henry tbe Eighth having appointed a grexxt match 
at archery at Windsor^ & citii^en of J>>^don, named 
Barlow, an inhabitai^t of Shi»reditch, joined the arch- 
ers, and awrpassed them aU in akiji. The ki^^g was 
so pleased with hie per^grwaoce^ ihat be ioco^ely gave 
him tbe title of " Duke of Sboreditcb," and this titXc 
tbe capteiA of the honioa a^chera retained for a 
cofisiderable time afterwards. la li^, in the reigu 
of Elizabetb, a grand sbooiing wst^h waa beid ia 
London, and tbe captaia ^f tl»e »rcbers^ assuming his 
titJe oi D«ke of Sborediteh* aumq»0Aed 9 suite or 
rtfiiuie of oooiinal oobility, tmder tbe iitli:s of 
Marquises of Barlow, of ClerkeoweU^ ^f Istogton, 
of HoztoM, «f Sbaeklewell, Esrl 4^' PaofiVLS, &£,, aad 
these, meetj«if together at tbe appointed Ume, with 
their difiereot eoopsfiies, pr^^eeeded m a pompous 
mmn^ from MerdUMt Taylors' Hall, numberi^ 3000 
arebers, eamptuously apparelled, every man having 
a lo«g-bi>w and ion^r mrowB, With the Marquis of 
Baiiow, and tbe Mantis of Qerkepwell, were horn* 
blowers. 9A2 «f tbe archers bad ebaias of gold about 
their neeks. This epleodid eompany was g^uarded by 
4000 wftiifflef* and biUmeo, be^ee pages and foot- 
mea. They passad ftbuough firaad<"S(reet, tbe resi- 
deaee af their eaptaisi, a»d tbence into Moorfields by 
Flttsbory, aad eo on to Smiiiafield, where, Iwi^ving per* 
fsmied several evokKiiNie, they abot eti a ta^eit. 

it seems agreed by modctfi arciwi«, tbftt if the leogtb 
of tkie bow be equai to tbe beigbi ot' tbe efaooter, the 
greatest fM>wer can be attained ; mA tbe arrow should be 
about haif the length of tbe boar s wkb these proportions 
a strong maa caa send bis arvow from 200 to ${40 y arde. 
Aecham said that it raqoired timiaiiig from early boyr 
hood tf» hit tbe target weU ; and Stratt aaems to Qon* 
firm this in the billowing paBsage:-r« 

I have seen the gentlemen who practise archery in the 
vicinity of London, repeatedly lAioot from end to end, and 
not toudh the target with an arrowy and fer the space of 
several hours withoat lodging one in the circle of gold, about 
nix inches in diameter, in the ceatre of the target ; 4jiis indeed^ 
iii M> heldoui done, thit one is led to think when it happen.^, 
a j« rtLibcr jbe effect of chance than uf bkill: .which pruvest 
\(hut Abchum has asserted, that an archer should be wetl 
taught early in Ufe^ and confirm the good teaching, by conti-" 

nual practice afterwards. We may oho recoilert tliat arch. 
ery is now followed for amusement only, unfl is to be lom- 
mended as a manly and gentlemanlike exercise. I remem- 
ber about four or five years back (about 1795) at a meeting 
of the Society of Arcners, in their ground near Bedford- 
square, the Turkish ambassador paid them a visit, and com- 
plained that the enclosure was by no means suQlcieotly ex- 
tensive for a long shot; he therefore went into the adjacent 
fields to show his dexterity, where I saw bim shoot several 
arrows, more than double the length of tlis archery ground, 
his longest shot falUnK upwards of 430 yards from his stand- 
ing. Tbe bow he used was much shorter than those belong- 
ing; to the Entflish archers ; and \m arrows were of the bolt 
kind, with round Iveads m.ada of wood. 

Our ancient chroniclers and ballad-wHtew revel ia 
the feats of archers in the olden tinoe, Bobin Hood 
and his merry men, clad io Lincoln greep, have been 
familiar to us from infancy $ and there is another bal- 
lad, called ''the Names of the Three Archers/' written in 
the same spirit. Adam Bel), Clyne of the Ch»ughe, and 
William Cloudesle, are introduced to shoot before the 
king. The butts or targets, set up by the king's arch- 
ers, were censured by Cloudesle, as being too large for 
any but a learner to deign to shoot at : he therefore 
set up two hazel rods, at 400 yards distance from each 
other. Standing at one, he shot at tbe other, and cleft 
it in two. The king, being much surprised at the per- 
formance, told him he was the best archer he ever saw. 
Cloudesle, to show that his skill was not yet sufficiently 
known, proposed to exhibit a more astonishing pn^f 
of it. He bound bis eldest son, a child only seven 
years old, to a stake, and placed an apple on his head. 
He then charged him not to move, and turned his 
fuce from him, that he xnighjt not be intimidated by 
seeing the arrow directed towards bim. Six score 
paces were measured from the stake ; Cloudesle took 
bis station, and 

• , . Then drew smi a fayre brode airowe; 
llys bow was great and longe, 
He set that arrowe in his bowe 
That was both styffe and stronge. 

Then Clondesle cleft the apple in two^ 

A« inany a man migiit se, 
Oar Gods forbore, sa^de die Kynga 

Tiiat thou sbolde shote at mek 

Archery, after gradvatiy dying away^ boa agsie 
revived withio a few years, and has become a some- 
what favo«rSte exercise near I/ondon, and probably ia 
other parts of tbe country. In Scotland the Rff^^l 
Company of Arciiers, the King's Body G49ard for 
Scotland, has existed for several eent«iries, and at €be 
present day eoiDpriees among ita roeosbera a large 
portion of the Scottish nobility. When King George 
the Fourth visited Scotland in 182^, the Com paojr 
claimed the prerogative of acting as Body Guard to 
him. His Majesty was graciously pleased to recognise 
their claim, and the Royal Company were thus esta- 
blished asX^ King's Body Guard f(«r Scotland. They 
attended bis Majesty at court, attd on all state oees- 
siiiue during bis residence in Scotland, and aecompa- 
nied feim on his visit to Hopetown Houae, from whence 
he embarked for London. The captain general has 
since been appointed G«dd Stick for Scotland, and tlie 
Royal Company now forms part of tbe household. 
There are about 500 members, who meet weekly, end 
at certain seasons contend for several aunual prizes. 

It surely Is one of the prominent frailties of human nature, 
that we are incapable of duly appreetating tho«e favouw 
wbieh are offered to us at little cost. The inference is plainc 
we place fiotitioiis value on what we cdesire, and ion what we 
possess $ «nd it may be instraotive to carry •OiUr resea/i>be« 
Auiher iuto the of this prei^ent Ufe^ and enduaAOur u> 
ascertain what real importance attaches to any of those ob- 
jects which we aim to obtain. It may be useful. alih«J"-}J 
disagreeable, to discover that we run ailer bubbles, wliicn 
burst in the hand. — Maukd. 





It was part of the snblime ftcheme of creation^ that 
maa should have dominion over all living creatures 
upon the faee of this beaatifnl World, which the 
Almighty assigned to him as a dwelling place. The 
Bsh of the sea and the fowU of the air are alike the 
subjects of man's Contronl i and not content with 
snbdoing them, and learning their structures, habits, 
and modes of esristence, man has attempted to become 
familiar with their haunts. Unrestrained by physical 
diilculties, gifted with ingenuity and etiergy, and 
calling to aid all the resources of science, art, and in- 
dustry^ man soars above the clouds, or penetrates 
iiitu the chambers of the deep, in search of the 
riches which nature has burfed therein, or to recover 
tiie wealth which he himself has already lost. 

The difficulties which the diver has to encounter 
we consequent on his physical formation. The mO'> 
ment he plunges below the surfkce of the water he is re- 
moved from the atmosphere which is necessary to his 
existence. If we hold the mouth and the nostrils, so as 
to prevent the lungs from cammuuicating with the ex* 
temal air^ great pain and inconvenience will soon be 
experienced. No one can continue the act beyond a 
minute or a minute and a half: yet this is the act 
performed in the simplest and rudest state of diving, 
where, by constant practicci men have inhaled at the 
surface, a sufficient quantity of air to last them for 
two minutes under the surface of water. If, pre- 
vious to the descenti the carbonic acid existing in the 
cells of the lungs be eapeiled by four or five forcible 
exhalations, and then a fall inhalation of atmospheric 
air be made, the diver, it is said, can, without diiHculty, 
remain two minutes under the surface of the water. 

A person can also remain a longer time under 
water if, previous to bis submersion, he inhale com- 
pressed air ; suchi for examplCi as the air In a diving 
bell, already many feet below the surface of the 
water. Mr» Brunei relates, that at the time when he 
descended in a diving bell, to examine the breach 
which the river had made in the tunnel under the 
Thames, he lowered the diving bell about thirty feet 
to the mouth of the breach i that this being found 
too narrow U% admit the bell» he took hold of the end 
of a rope, and dived himself down into the opening : 
having remained down about two minutes, his com- 
panion in the bell becoming alarmed, gave* the signal 
to those above for pulling up : but Brunei not being 
prepared for the signal, had hardly time to secure the 
rope which be had relinquished, aod was surprised 
iin getting into the bell, to hear that he had been 
in the water two minutes. On re-descending, he 
found that he cotild remain under water that space 
of time without difficulty, because the air in the bell 
being ciiudensed by a column of water nearly thirty 
feet high, contained nearly double the quantity of air 
in the same space, and thus nearly a double supply 
to the lungs. 

The unassisted diver has also another difficulty to 
encounter, besides that of holding the breath ; the 
presiiure of the water on the chest becomes so great at 
great depths, as to be almost intolerable. This pres- 
sure increases upwards of sixty pounds on every 
eqiiare fiM>t on the surface of the diver's body, for 
every foot of descent | and if the chest expose half a 
aquare foot of surface, the pressure thereon, at the 
depth of fifteen feet, is equal to 450 pounds ; a load 
which tends to expel the air enclosed in the lungs, 
and consequently calls for great muscular exertion 
on the part of the diver, and often produces blood- 
shot eyes and spitting of blood. 

Diving can therefore only be regarded as a rude 

artj adapted to a rude people, without much me« 
chanical aid. Numerous wonderful tales have been 
related of the feats of some celebrated divers. One of 
these stories we will detail in a second article on diving, 
our present object being to afford a succinct account of 
the art and its history, up to the invention and general 
use of the diving bell, to which latter subject we pro- 
pose to demote a separate article. 

Among the divers in various parts of the world, 
those of Ceylon, engaged in the pearl fisheries, are 
celebrated. Some of these divers are said to have 
remslned six minutes below the surface of the water, 
but strong doubt exists regarding this statement. 
The late Admiral Hood, when at Ceylon, determined 
to test the powers of the best pearl divers by an 
appeal to his own watch, and found the ordinary 
time which a diver could remain submerged to be one 
minute ; and, in one or two cases, a minute and a 
half. In this pearl fishery there are generally ten 
divers to each boat : five descend into the sea at a 
time, while the remaining five remain above, to renew 
their strength. In order to hasten their descent a 
large stone is used with a rope attached to it, which 
the diver seizes with the toes of his right foot* 
Grasping another rope with his right hand, and keep* 
ing his nostrils shut with his left, he soon reaches the 
bottom. He speedily collects oysters, puts them 
into a net which is hung about his neck, and, upon 
giving a signal he is hauled up immediately by those 
in the boat. 

These divers are all Indians, and have undergone 
much previous training. They often descend forty 
or fifty times a day : the exertion is very great, and 
they frequently discharge water and blood &om their 
mouths, ears, and nostrils. Some stuff their ears, 
and cover their bodies with greasy substances : they 
do not eat while In the boats, since they find that 
food In the stomach is oppressive while engaged in 
diving. They are often exposed to a dreadful enemy 
while under water, viz., the ground-shark which in- 
habits these seas : some of the divers are expert enough 
to avoid this animal, but all of them are extremely 
apprehensive of him, and consult their priests or 
conjurers before they go upon a diving excursion. 

The divers for sponges in the Archipelago are said 
to descend with a piece of sponge dipped in oil In their 
mouths, the object of which Is to calm the small 
waves on the surface of the sea, which prevent the 
light from being so steadily transmitted to the bottom 
as is necessary to enable the divers to discern the 
objects they are in search of. By spitting out a little 
oil, it rises to the surface, and becoming diffused, it 
calms the waves, and a clear and steady light is 
transmitted to the bottom. 

The writer has heard of a jewel, dropped by acci- 
dent into a rough but shallow sea, being recovered by 
throwing a little oil on the waves, which enabled a 
person sent in search of the trinket to discern it with 

Some of the natives of the South Sea Islands, by 
constant practice from Infancy, become very expert 
divers, and swim round the ships which visit their 
coasts, for the purpose of begging small articles of 
European manufacture. It is said that when a nail 
or other small article, is thrown overboard, they 
never fail to recover it by diving ; and on one occa- 
sion, a smithes anvil having fallen overboard, the 
natives secured it by diving many times, rolling it 
over towards the shore at each descent. 

We come now to notice a few contrivances which 
have been invented for assisting the diver in his at- 
tempts to remain under water for an indefinite length 
of time. It is obvious, that to be successful, the 


[March i 

objects of every diving apparatm must be to supplr 
the iliver witb I'resh air, and prevent the entrance of 
the water into the mouth, Doitrila, and ears. These 
objects have been uioK or less Attained by water-tight 
armour, made so strong as to protect the body from 
the pressure of the water at great depths ; together 
with respiratory tubes, passing up above the surface 
of the water, so as to enable the diver to breathe. 
This forms one class of apparatiu. A second class 
consists of water-tight vessels of metal, inclosing the 
diver, together with a quantity of air, to support res- 
piration for a limited period, such as twenty minutes. 
Apparatus of this kind enables the diver to protrade 
his srnis by means of flexible sleeves ; glass lenses are 
also provided, through which the diver can witness 
and direct his own operations. 

These descriptions of apparatus are nearly all 
objectionable, and far inferior to the diving bell, 
which we shall hereafter describe. The best armour, 
perhaps, that has ever been contrived, is that known 
by the, name of its inventor, M. Klingert. The ac- 
companying- fignr^ represents the diver equipped in 
Klingert's armunr. This dress is made of strong tin 
plate, in the form , of a cylinder, consisting of two 
parts, the head-piece, or helmet, and the body. In 
addition to this, there is a leathern jacket, with ihott 
sleeves, and a pair' of leathern drawers ; both are 
made water-tight, by being buttoned to the metal 
part of the dress, where they are secured with brass 
hoops going round the leather and the racial on the 
outside. The air^is supplied by two distinct flexible 
pipes, proceediog frpm the inside of the helmet to the 
surface of the water : one pipe is for' inhaling the air, 
and terminates in an ivory msatb-piece, which the 
diver embraces with his mouth ; the other enters the 
helmet at the same place, and merely opens into the 
interior of the machine, so as to allow the foul air to 
be discharged. The diver draws in fresh air with his 
mouth, and dischai^;es it with his nostrils, and from 
the inside of the machine it is propelled by inspiration, 
the expansion of the chest contracting the apace 
between it and the armour, and forcing out exactly 
as much air as is drawn in, so that a due equilibrium 
is thus constantly maintained. 

To the metal dress hooks are attached, on which 
weights are hung, to keep the diver down. He 
makes signals by means of a rope attached to his arm, 
or by speaking through the tube. When he wishes to 
ascend, he unhooks the weights and fixes them to a 
rope let down for the purpose, and then, being lighter 
than his own bulk of water, he ascends. 

Klingert's armour is still in use in the constmction 
of hydraulic works, in places inaccessible to the diving- 

M. Klingert is also the inventor of a diving chest 
of the form of a hollow cylinder, cspable of holding 
fifty-eight cubic feet of air, which he calculated would 
enable the diver to remain submerged about two hours. 
This vessel (used in conjunction with the armour) was 
suspended from a boat, but could be raised or low- 
ered by means of a pump compressing or dilating the 
inclosed air. From a description of this diving chest 
in the Eneytlopxdia Sritatutiea, it appears, that the 
ballast is so adapted to the size of the machine, as to 
make it sink so far, that only a cubic foot of it remains 
above water. In this state an additional weight of 
100 lbs. will depress it below the surface, or make it 
siulc to the bottom. The effect of adding extra weights, 
is produced by diminishing the volume of contained 
air by condensing it into a smaller space. To accom- 
plish this, a large cylinder is applied to the bottom of 
tlii; vuasel, and provided with a piston, which by a tack 
and pinion, can b« moved fxom ooe end at the cylia- 

der to the other, when the diver turns a handle 
through the side of the machine, and cummu 
motion by a worm and wheel to the pinion of t 
The lower end of the cylinder opens to the wi 
the upper end opens within the machine ; it 
when Uie diver turns the handle in the direction 
the piston in its cylinder, it necessarily diminii 
bulk of the included air, and the machine siiil 
on depressing the piston in the cylinder it will 
agsiu. The inventor proposed to furnish the ■ 
with two small oars to move it in the water, 
anchor or grapnel, to malcc it fast whiliit tb 
walks about on the bottom, within the limiii 
length of the pipe, to examine sunken bodies i 
cover the best mode of raising them. 

Various other forms of diving apparatus ba 
contrived, a description of which, would he 
rather than instructive. We have already said 
to show the general nature of diving apparatu 
ductorjr to on account of the roost useful and 
ant of all diving machines yet contrived, i 
Diving Bell; to which we shall devote a ■ 

Wx read, that in cerlstn elimales of the world, tt 
tbst ipring from the land, carry s refreshing sme 
lea; andsHUTelbs wstchful pilot, that he is approa 
a deiiisble and fruitful coait, when as yet he cannot 
it with bis eyes. And in like manner it fares nil 
«ha have steadily and religiously pursued the cours 
Heaven pointed out to tbera. We shall someiimes 
their conversation towards the end of their day*, 1l 
are filled with hope, and peace, and joy: whirh, lii 
refreshing gales and reviving odours to the leani 
breathed forth from Paradise upon their souls; s 
them to understand with certainty, that God is I 
thani into their desired haven. To\ 

FsiuniB oi Wnnt Ncniini rmm On FnitT, amow Mok 
ItoM tr alt ■xfeMiln* sMI Nnmidin la Iha ktas^M 

ibaturtra^lf M»u^^im* 

5 430. 


16™, 1839. 





Drilled tLmafh tin nady itntuin, tntij wiy 
Tbe waUn mth lh« undf utrfttuin riw ; 
Amid whcM «B|)«i inBnitelT ttnined. 
Thayjofh! Imts Ibdr jtin ulu behind. 
And clear lad MMUnuuieT sDik iloBE- 

3W dacM the poet , Tbomoon explaia one of the 
tml procfwei by which water is ptirified. Id, and 
mt LondoD, we hare an example of the filtration of 
ler duongh Mad. The clay and the gravel in this 
ttict ext^id 300 feet, and ■ometimes more, below 
: ■m&ee} under these is the sand. If we bore a hole 
eaghk the day and gravel, ao as to get at the water 
dte sand, it. will come filtering . and purifying, 
D^^ the latter . sabstance } probabljr all the way 
■a the chalk hiUs to the north and south of tbe 
ley in which the Iiondon basin of clay is 
Hded. The clay abore the sand, being very heavy, 
sies upon it, and forces the water above the sur- 
c ia a jet, as soon as tbe opening is completed. 
Bnt it often happens that the water, instead of rising 
through sand, by which it is filtered and pnrified, 
■ through soils containing iron, Bilex(Dr flinty 
1h), moriate of soda— or more properly chloride of 
liuB (common salt), snlphate of magnesia (Epsom 
t>), carbonate of lime (chalk, marble, oi limeBtonej, 
^ihatc of lime (gypsum), sulphuretted hydrogen 
I, carbonic acid gas, &c. One or more of these 
iictained by the water; and so affect its taste, 
bar, and chemical characters, that its effects on 
t latmal system arc various. Sometimes the effect 
beneficial, at other times the contrary. 
Wit^ thus impregnated, has also a decided effect 
anny of the atta. The brewer, the paper-maker, 
( bleacher, and many others, are often subject to 
Mvenknce, from the impurities contained in the 
ittn they employ; so that it has occupied the 
t^St io many valuable researches, to ascertain the 
Im of tbe watett, to point oat their uses in medi- 

ciue, and to obviate their inconvenient efiects in art. 
It is for this reason, that we treat of mineral or medi- 
cinal waters, separately from those more commua 
forms of water which fit them for general domestic use. 

Some mineral waters contain nitrogen and sulphu- 
rous acid gases, and a variety of substances in 
addition to those already mentioned. We shall, there- 
fore, consider briefly the subject of medicinal waters 
according to their properties, and the leading ingredi- 
ents which they contain, under the following heads: — 
I. The .^eiifu/init, or Carbomttd; 2. The Svlpivromi 
3. The ChafybeaU; 4. The SalitK, 

1 . The carbonated waters are such as contain a con- 
siderable quantity of carbonic acid. Soda water (as 
it is called) consists chiefly of carbonic acid gas 
and water, the gas being mechanically combined with 
the water under great pressure. This gas imparts to 
water a sharp and somewhat acid taste (bence 
the term acidulous) ; and it presents a sparkling 
appearance when poured from one vessel into an- 
other, arising from tbe particles of the acid passing 
into the gaseous form and escaping from the water. 
This escape of gas always ensues when the water is 
exposed to the air ; it may be liberated in greater 
quantity by heating the water, and boiling expels it 
id together. 

The presence of free carbonic acid in water may be 
detected by adding lime-water to it, as a cloudiness 
immediately ensues. The rationale of this is as 
follows : lime is prepared by burning chalk (or any 
carbonate of lime), at a red heat, for several hours; 
by this means the greater portion of its carbonic acid 
is expelled, and the resulting lime is soluble, to a cer- 
tun extent, in water. Now if lime-water be added 
to water containing carbonic acid, (tbe attraction 
between lime and carbonic acid being stronger than 
that between carbonic acid and water,) the gas will n^\& 
the water to tmitewitlx \.\»^te«, •oi'fiBfc ■\»»*ff-w^ 



[March 16, 

be reconverted into chalk, which is less soluble in 
water than lime, hence the cloudiness in the mixture. 
Now, although chalk, or carbonate of lime, is scarcely 
soluble in water, yet water containing carbonic acid 
dissolves it easily, so that the cloudiness in the above 
mixture may be removed by adding to it more car- 
bonic acid, or more water containing carbonic acid. 
Hence many hard waters and mineral waters contain 
much carbonate of lime, because the carbonic acid 
in the water imparts a soluble property to the latter. 
The most celebrated carbonated springs are those 
of Seltzer, Pyrmont, Spa, and Carlsbad, but they all 
contain saline matters in addition to the carbonic 
acid. A wine pint of Spa water afforded : — 

Carbonic acid 13 cubic inches. 

Carbonate of soda 1*5 grains. 

Carbonate of magnesia 4'5 „ 

Carbonate of lime 1*5 >, 

Muriate of soda 0'2 „ 

Oxide of iron 0*6 „ 

The same quantity of Pyrmont water yields 26 
cubic inches of carbonic acid, and 30 grains of saline 
matter, i.e., 10 grains of magnesia, 5*5 of Epsom 
salts, and 8*5 of sulphate of lime. The same quan- 
tity of Seltzer water contains 29 grains of saline 
matter, 17 of which are common salt, and yields 
17 cubic inches of carbonic acid. The Carlsbad 
waters give only 5 cubic inches of gas from a wine 
pint, but contain 10 or 12 different salts. 

Dr. T. Thomson says, that the Spa waters may be 
termed either acidulous or chalybeate, for they are a 
combination of both. Their effect is stimulating, 
and they promote the secretions, especially with 
respect to the kidneys and the skin. The general 
effect of the carbonated waters is stimulant, and they 
are even capable of producing a certain degree of 
transient intoxication -, they are also useful in bilious 
affections, and as an agreeable drink in fevers, but 
are injurious in cases of flatulency or indigestion. 

Many of our readers have doubtless read that very 
entertaining work. Bubbles from the Brunnens of Nas- 
sau, in which the properties of some of the German 
waters are described with much graphic power, and 
no little humour. The author. Sir F. Head, visited 
the Seltzer spring among others. This spring is 
situated at the village of Nieder-Selters, in Nassau, 
a place which he describes as a " world of stone- 
bottles." The fact is, that the water of the " brun- 
nen '* or " bubbling brook " of Selters, or Seltzer, is 
sent in stone-bottles to every part of Germany, to 
Paris, London, the East and West Indies, &c., and 
as the whole supply is obtained from one spring, a 
busy scene necessarily presents itself in the vicinity 
of the well. The opening of the well is about five 
feet square, and the bottles are filled by being placed 
in a crate or frame, (which will hold seventy bottles,) 
and lowered into the well. The air is expelled, and 
the bottles filled with water in about twenty seconds ; 
the crate is then drawn up and removed to one sidej 
immediately after which another crate, suspended 
from another arm of the same crane, is lowered and 
filled in the same manner. In this way three crates 
are engaged at once ; one being lowered into the well, 
another being supplied with empty bottles, while the 
filled bottles are being removed from the third. The 
processes are continued with great rapidity. Two men 
place corks in the bottles, two more hammer them 
down, women and girls carry the bottles (one hang- 
ing on each finger of each hand) to a bench, where the 
corks are cut off close to the bottle ; the bottles then 
pass into the hands of women who tie white leather 
over the corks, two men dip the corks, leather and 
all, into melted resin, two others stamp the seal of 

the Duke of Nassau upon the soft resin, and finally 
the bottles are stored in a warehouse. All this is 
done in an incredibly short time, and the process is 
continued from three in the morning until seven ia 
the evening, after which hour the inhabitants may 
help themselves. This privilege is granted to them 
by the duke, to whom the well belongs, and to whose 
ancestors it was sold for a butt of wine. The enor- 
mous quantity of 1,295,183 bottles were filled for 
exportation in 1832, besides half a million for private 
consumption. Sir F. Head saw twenty- five bins of 
bottles, each four yards broad, six deep, and eight 
high, all waiting to be filled. The duke gives six- 
pence per hundred for having the bottles filled, 
and sells them, when filled, for thirteen florins per 

With respect to the effects of this water the author 
remarks. " The best analysis I can offer of the Sel- 
tzer water, is the plain fact that the inhabitants of the 
village, who have drunk it all their lives, are certainly 
by many degrees, the healthiest and ruddiest looking 
peasants, I have anywhere met with in the dominions 
of the Duke of Nassau.'* He remarked, that the taste 
of the water when drunk at the well, had more of the 
chalybeate quality (which we shall explain presently) 
than when drunk from the bottle. 

2. Sulphurous Waters, — ^These are marked by a 
peculiar foetid odour, resembling that of rotten e^, 
which they owe to the presence of sulphuretted 
hydrogen in the water ; indeed ' this gas is formed 
during the putrescence of eggs. It consists of sul- 
phur and hydrogen, but when mixed with water, 
(which largely dissolves it,) and exposed to the air, 
the oxygen of the latter unites with the hydrogen of 
the gas, and the sulphur which remains is deposited 
as a yellow sediment. 

Waters of this kind are distinguished by rendering 
metallic silver black, or causing a brownish-bledc 
precipitate with a solution of acetate of lead, or 
nitrate of silver. This arises from the union of the 
sulphur with the metallic silver or lead. It acts in 
this way on several of the metallic oxides, an amusing 
instance of which we will relate. A nitric solutioa 
of bismuth, mixed with a small portion of muriatie 
acid, when diluted with water, throws down a beaa'* 
tiful subtile white milky powder 5 this being collected 
and washed with cold water, appears in minute scaktf 
of a pearly lustre, and constitutes the Pearl Fomittt 
of the perfumers. In this state it is employed as • 
cosmetic by those ladies who arc dissatisfied with tb0 
natural complexion of their skin. One of thei0 
ladies went to bathe in a sulphurous water bath, and 
and came out as one of " Ethiop*s sable daughteit,*' 
the sulphuretted hydrogen having blackeoKed tli0 
oxide of bismuth of her " genuine" Pearl Powder. 

The sulphuretted hydrogen gas may be expelled 
from these waters by the application of heat. 

Among the most noted sulphurous springs af* 
those of Aix-Ia-Chapelle, Harrowgate, and Moffat^ 
One wine gallon of Harrowgate water contains :— 

Sulphuretted hydrogen... 

Carbonic acid 


Carburet ted hydrogen ... 

6' 4 cubic inches. 


6- 5 


22' 8 cubic inches of gas. 

Common salt 735* grains. 

Muriate of lime 71' 6 

Muriate of magnesia 43* 

Bicarbonate of soda 14*75 

864*25 grains of saline mctter. 
There are about fourteen wells at Harrowgate, J^. 
possessing mineral qualities, differing somewhat frol^ 




ne another, but Dossessing a general sulphurous 
Sir F. Head, in the work before quoted, speaks of 
powerful sulphurous spring at Langen-Schwal- 
ach, iu Nassau. This spring was, in the time of the 
Loniuiis, in the heart of an immense forest -, but as 
le virtues of the water became gradually known, 
uts and hovels were erected, which afterwards gave 
'ay to houses, and, lastly, to a town. The spring is 
bout eighteen inches below the 'ground. The water 
ontains a little iron, but is principally sulphurous, 
nd a suffocating gas ascends from it ', yet, notwith- 
tanding this circumstance, the Jews who live in the 
illage constantly drink, cook, and wash with the water. 
In Mrs. Trollope^s Belgium and JFestern Germany, 
he waters of Aix-la-Chapelle are thus alluded to : — 

The hot springs are abundant, and held to be highly 

salubrious. The one which is of the highest temperature, 

riiet at Borcette, a little town perfectly distinct from Aix, 

bat close to it. This Borcette spring is much too hot for 

the band to endure, but I doubt its being actually boiling, 

II I have heard stated ; we saw, however, several women 

take pails of it for their washing, and were told that they 

Mver find it necessary to use any other in the process. 

The large smoking caldron, which is open in the middle 

of the street at Borcette, has a very strange appearance, 

the vapour rising and spreading up and down it to a con- 

tidenble distance. 

The general effect of sulphurous waters upon the 
lystein are of a cleansing character. In all erup- 
tions, diseases of the skin, ulcers, &c., they are found 
to be valuable when used as a bath, and when used 
tt a drink they stimulate the system. 

3. Chalybeate Waters, — are those which contain 
iron in such quantity as to form one of their leading 
ingredients. The term chalybeate is derived from 
the Latin, chalyhs, signifying " hard iron,*' or " steel." 
In these waters tiie iron is in the state of an oxide, 
which is by itself insoluble, but it is generally 
in union with carbonic acid, or sometimes with 
nrariatic or sulphuric acid. When water of this 
Innd is freely exposed to the air, so much of the 
<Niide of iron unites with an additional portion -of the 
ay^ of the air, as to form an insoluble per- oxide 
^ iron. In order to effect this, the oxide quits the 
•od with which it is united ; this is the cause of the 
hownish or reddish-yellow deposit observed at the 
Biiet and bottom of such springs. 

Chalybeate waters are known by turning black 
vhen mixed with an infusion of galls. Galls and 
niphate of iron are two of the ingredients in ink, 
■kd this kind of water has an inky astringent taste. 
Ae chalybeate springs contain other ingredients 
kiidcs the carbonate of iron, such as those which 
ire found in saline waters.. 

The most celebrated chalybeate waters in England 
m those of Tunbridge, Brighton, and Cheltenham. 
Ihe waters of Tunbridge have a temperature of about 
^: the supply is not great, and is in some measure 
dependent on the weather, the smallest supply being 
ihoQt a quart, and the greatest about two and a half 
pllons, per minute. The effect of these waters is of 
t stimulating and strengthening character. The 
other chalybeate springs in England have properties 
^ similar to the above. Dr. Thomson has recently 
bribed a spring at Vicar's Brig, in Perthshire, 
^ich he considers the strongest chalybeate water in 
c^Qce. It is four times as strong as the Moffat 
^Ater, and is too powerful to be drunk without dilu- 
^, but is used by the country people to heal cuts 
^d bruises. 

At Langen-Scbwalbach are three springs, which 
& F. Head describes^ and which may be considered 
H Aaljbeatc^ iUhoogh thejr contun also much car- 

bonic acid. There are three brunnens, — the Pauline, 
the Wein, (wine,) and the Stahl, (steel,) which attract 
visiters in great numbers. Sir F. Head was recom- 
mended to take three glasses of the water at six iu 
the morning; to bathe at ten o*clock (taking two 
more glasses on emerging from the bath); and, 
finally, three glasses at five in the evening. The 
water is so thickly impregnated with oxide of iron, 
that the colour is quite red and muddy, but it im- 
parts a vigour and strength to the system. The 
bathing dresses which have been frequently immersed 
in this water, are stained of a deep red colour. 


Blest motlior ! I remember tliee, from early childhood's hour, 
When first my heart awoke to feel maternal love's deep power; 
When not a transient tear could dim the smile of infant bliss, 
That was not diied bencatli the warmth of a mother's fervent 

Ah ! yet the prayer I learned to lisp at twilight by the knee, 
Is clear upon the deep-wrought page of hallowed memory I 
And those soft tones that rose to heaven from out thy swelling 

They seem to sound upon my ear, though thou art gone to rest. 

Blest mother I I remember thcc, from youth's fresh, baoyant 

A star thou wert to guide my feet, of j)ure and constant ray: 
Thy love possessed a charm beyond the light of pleasure's 

And *t was thy connsol that forbade my trust in earthly dreams. 

And I remember a soft hand that smoothed my acliing head, 
A tearful, guardian eye, that watched beside my curtained bed ; 
The careful step, the soothing draught thy kindness had pre- 
And all the tokens of that love thy orplian child once shared. 

Blest mother ! I remember theei as guide, companion, fiiend ! 
When years mature had taught my heart life's blessings and 

their end ; 
When I luul learned to share thy griefs, to shed the tear for 

Who in my wayward days had turned to pray and weep for me. 

'T was mine to cheer thy widowed heart with all a daughter's 

And lift thy sinking spirit up to brighter scenes above ; 
To scatter in thy lonely path the flowers which kindness weaves. 
And bind around thy temples fair affection's myrtle leaves. 

Blest mother ! I remember thee, (alas ! how sad the spot 
On memory's page, which even now the tear of grief must blot !) 
When first the blight of fell disease passed o'er thy constant 

And on thy brow, with death's pale hand, *t was written, * We 

must part !* 

But not a murmur mingled then with faith's assurance given, 
And not a fear passed with thee through the darksome vale to 

heaven ; 
No ! God's own rod and staff were there, nor could I wish thy 

When angels beckoned thee from earth, and- all its ills away. 

Blest mother ! I remember thee, when on thy sable bier, 
And followed by an orphan train, which stranger hands must 

When laid within thy narrow bed, where now the green turf 

While we were left alone to stem the tide of human woes. 

Yet not afoTw?, for One there is, our Father in the sky. 

Who stoops to make our cause his own, who listens to our cry; 

Upon his arm our strength was stayed, his hand hath been our 

And Ho who gives the ravens food, for us will still provide. 

Blest mother ! now I think of thee, as one amid that throng 
Wlio chant before the throne of God ' their everlasting song;' 
In midnight dreams thy angel form around my couch appears, 
And oft thy hand seems stretched again, to wipe away my tears. 

When gazing at the shining stars, their fixed and holy li^ht 
Recalls thine own unwavering faith, and thy example bright ; 
And in the firmament of heaven, a star thou 'It ever shine, 

With hems more beautiful and bright^-« lustre sll ^^^v^ 



CU&SCB 16, 


No. rv. 

Games with a Ball. 
There are but few exercisea more delightful and in- 
vigorating than games played with a ball in the open 
air. Every muscle is escrted,— the eye ia accurately 
directed towards a particular spot, — and the attention 
of bU the players is fuUy roused. Unlike many other 
games, it is seldom that wrangling or churlish feelings 
are engendered by the course of the sport ; and 
there can be no doubt that the phyaicol powers are 
strengthened by the exercise. 

One of the earliest kinds of ball-play was, in all 
probability, that of catch-ball, in which two or more 
players toss a ball alternately from one to another : 
this requires but little bodily exertion, and used to 
be practised by females as well as by males. 

When the ball, instead of being merely tossed 
from one to another, is struck, we enter upon a great 
variety of games, which have, in one form or other, 
lasted to the present day. A game of this kind, 
called palm-play, used to be practised in France. 
This exercise consisted in receiving a ball thrown by 
another player, and driving it back again with the 
palm of the bond. In former times they played 
with the naked hand, then with a glove, which in 
some instances was lined : afterwards they bound 
cords and tendons round their hands to make the 
ball rebound more forcibly; hence probably was the 
idea of racket obtained. 

Ia the iixteenth century tennis-courts were com- 
mon in England, and their establishment cooate- 
nanced by the example of the monarchs. Henry 
the Seventh wasa tennis player; for In aMS. register 
of his expenditures made in ike thirteenth year of 
his reign, and preserved in the Remembrancer's 
Office, this entry occurs : — " Item, for the king's 
loss at tennis, twelvcpence ; for the loss of balls, 
threepence." His son, Henry the Eighth, was, in 
the early part of his reign, also much attached to 
this diversion. This propensity, to use the words of 
Hall, "being perceived by certain craftie persons 
about him, tbey brought in Frenchmen and Lombards 
to make wagers with hym, and so he lost mnche 
money; but when he perceyved theyr crafte, he 
escbued the company and let them go." The game 
seems to have consisted in this : a line was stretched 
across the middle of the conrt, and the players, 
standing on either side with their rackets ready to 
receive the ball, endeavoured to strike it so as to go 
over the dividing line. 

Fires, or hand-tennis, seems to have derived its 
name from the number of competitors on each side. 
In 1591, when Queen Elizabeth was entertained at 
Elvetham in Hampshire, by the Earl qf Hertford, — 

After dinner, shout three o'clock, teu of hii lordship's 
servants, all SoraetsetBhira men, iu a square gioeiiB court 
before her majesties wiodowe did hang up lines, iquariog 
out the forme of a tennis-court, and making a erou line in 
the middle; in this square thev (tning stripped out of their 
dublots) played five to five with hand-ball and cord as they 
tearae it, to the great liking of her highnesi. 

Bailoom-ball, or wind-ball, was a game formerly 
played. This was a large ball made of leather and 
filled with air. It was struck by the hand, or by a 
bracer of wood which covered the hand and the lower 
part of the arm, 

Slool-balt was a game which Stmtt thus describes : 

I hate been informed that a pastime called ttool-ball is 
practised to this dsy in the ncrthern psrU of Eoglsnd, 
which oouaiiu in simply setting a itool upon the grouad, 
and one of the players takes hii place beRire it, while bis 
autagonitt, standing at a diltalu^ Iosms tbt ball with the 

intention of striking the stool ; and this it is the business 
of the former to prevent hy beating it away with the hud, 
reckoning one to the game for every stroke of the ball; if, 
on the contrary, it should be missed by the hand and touch 
the Htool, the players change places. I believe the same 
alio happens if the person who threw the ball can csleh 
and retain it when driven back, before it reacfaas the 
ground. The conqueror at this game is he who ttrikas 
tlie ball most times before it touches the stool. Again, in 
other parts of the country, a certain number of stools sre 
set up in a circular form, and at a distance from each other, 
and every one of ihem is occupied by a single player; nhen 
the ball it struck, which is done, as before, with the hand, 
every one of them it obliged to alter bis situatiou, moning 
in succession from stool to stool, and ir he who threw tb« 
ball can regain it in lime to strike any one of the plsyeis, 
before the latter reaches the ttool to which he is running, 
he takes his plsce, and the person touched must throw the 
ball, until he can, in like manner, return to the circle. 

This differs but very little from the game of n 
which is much played at the present day in the west 
of England. 

Trap-ball, as it was formerly played, differed from 
the plan pursued at the present day. The annexed 
engraving represents the form of the trap, taken from 
a MS. of the fonrtecnth century. There seems to be 

this advantage in the old method over the modem 
one, that the player need not stoop to strike the trap, 
since it is elevated considerably from the gmnnd. 
Rustics have a mode of preparing a mde trap, by 
making a round bole in the ground, and, by way of 
a lever, place a flat piece of wood in an inclined 
position, one half in the hole with the ball upon it, 
and the other half out of it : the elevated end being 
struck smartly with the bat, occasions the ball to rise 
to a considerable height, and all the pttrpoMS of a 
trap are thus answered. 

It Is usual in playing the game, to place two 
boundaries at a given distance ^m the trap, between 
which it is necessary for the ball to pass when it is 
struck by the batsman, for if it falls withoataide 
of either, he gives up his bat and is out; he is also 
out if he strikes his boll into the air, and it is caught 
by one of his adversaries before it grounds ; and 
again, if the ball, when returned by the opponent 
party, touches the trap, or rests within one bat's 
length of it : on the contrary, if none of these things 
happen, every stroke tells for one towards the striker's 
game. In Essex the game ia frequently played with 
a stout ronnd cudgel, instead of a bat, which ren- 
ders the striking of the ball more difficult. When 
the player has struck his ball, he calls aloud for a 
certain number, one or more, of icores, the object of 
which is as follows ; — the opposing party bowls or 
throws the ball towards the trap; when the ball 
■tops, the distance from it to the trap is meaaored in 



cndgela' leng;ths; if the number of these lengths 
eqanU or exceeds the score called for by the pisyer, 
he add* those scores towards his game ; but if they 
arr less, the player is out. This is an excellent feature 
in the game, becaose the player regulates the number 
of teortt for which he calls out, by his estimate 
of his opponent's skill in sending the ball near the 

There is another game called tip'eat, in which a 
small piece of wood, called the eat, answers the pur- 
pose of both ball and trap. It is about six inches 
long and two inches diameter at the middle, from 
whence it tapers off to a point at each end, presenting 
the appearance of a double cone. When this cat is 
laid on the ground, a blow of the bat at either side 
ot the centre will send it spinning up into the air; it 
is then struck with the bat, as at trap-ball, and any 
regnlatioas as to the mode of playing the game may 
be adopted at pleasure. 

There were numerous games under the names of 
foot-boll, handg-ball, goff, club-ball, pafl-mall, &c., in 
which a ball was struck from one place to another; 
hot it is not necessary to describe them all separately, 
vnce two or three of them were very similar. Goff 
it frequently played at present in the fallowing man- 
ner. It is performed with a straight bat, usually 
tnide of ash, about four feet and a half in length, and 
curved at the bottom. The ball is small, but ex- 
ceedingly bard. There are generally two players, 
each of whom has his bat and hall. The game con- 
sist! in driving the ball into certain holes made in 
the ground, he who achieves ;t the soonest, or in the 
snullcBt namber of strokes, obtains the victory. The 
goff-lengths, or the spaces between the first and last 
holei, are sometimes extended to the distance of 
two or three miles ; the number of intervening boles 
appears to be optional, but the balls must be struck 
into the holes, but not beyond them. When four 
penons play, two of them are sometimes partners, 
ud have but one ball, which they strike alternately, 
but every man has bis own bat. 

GaS, and another game very similar to it, called 
fiU-mall, were favourite games among the nobility in 
the Mventeenth century. In the latter game a ball 
■u itruck with a mallet or bat through a high arch 
of iroo, and the game was won by the player who 
amid do it with the fewest blows. Charles the 
Seand and his courtiers were in the habit of in- 
doling in this sport in the walk in St. James's 
Piric, which took the name of mall from this circum- 
Kucei it is also probable that the street which runs 
pandkl to that walk acquired the name of Pall-Mall 
boa the same circomstance. The name was origi- 
naUy Pale-Maille. 

Ihe game of rmg-ball was played as follows. A 
long alley or playground was selected, and a ring 
TO&utened into the ground at an equal distance 
from the sides of the alley, bat much nearer to the 
top than to the bottom of the ground, and through 
this ring it was necessary for the ball to be passed in 
its pngress. The ring was made to turn with great 
faedity apaa a swivel, and the two flat sides were 
dhtiiignished from each other. If the ball passed 
thnnigh the one, it was said to be lawful and the 
player went on; but if through the other, it was 
declared to be unlawful, and he was obliged to beat 
tbe ball back until such time as he caused it to pass 
■ntbe lawful side; this done, he proceeded to the 
bottom of the ground, where there was an arch of 
inn through which it was also necessary for the ball 
to be pawed, and then the game terminated : — he 
«bo executed his task with the smallest number of 
Uon to tbe ball, won the game. Oar Kcond figure. 

taken from a .tTS. of the thirteenth century, repre- 
sents a man playing at elub-ball, which probably did 
not differ much from ring-bGll. 

There is a Cornish game called hurling, which is 
attended with much excitement and bodily exertion 
by the players. Carew, who wrote a Smroti/ of Corn- 
wall, more than two centuries ago, thus describes thii 

Hurling taketb his denomination from throwing of the 
ball, and is of two sort*,— in the east parts of Cornwall to 
goales, and in the west to the country. For hurling to 

Soalet, there are fifteen, twenty, or thirty players, tJHre or 
»», chosen out on each aide, who strip tiieniielvet to their 
slightest apparel, and then join bandi in ranke one against 
another. Out of these ran kes they match themselves by 
payret, one emhracing another, and so passe away, every 
of which couple are especially to watch one another during 
the play; after this they pitch two bushes in the ground, 
some eight or ton feet asunder, and directly aitainst them, 
ten or twelve score paces off. other twain in like dislanee, 
which they terme goalet, where some indifferent person 
throwelh up a ball, the whicli nbosoevsr can catcb and 
carry through his adversaries coal e, hath wonne tbe gams. 
But herein consisteth one of Hercules his labours, for he 
that is once possessed of the ball, hath his contrary mate 
waiting at inches and essaying to lay hold upon bim, the 
other thrusieth him in the breast with his closed fist to 
keep him off, which they call butting. For hurling to the 
country, two, three, or more parishes, agree to hurl against 
two or three other parishes. The matches are usually 
mads by gentlemen, and their goales ore either these 
gentlemen s bouses, or some towns or villages three or four 
miles asunder, of which either side maketh choice after 
the neamesse of their dwellings. When they meet there 
is neyther comparing of numbers nor matehing of men, 
but a silver ball is cast up, and that company which can 
catch and carr^ it by force or sleight to the place assigned. 

eainetb the ball and tbe victory. Sueb as see where Uie 
ball is played, give notice, crying "ware east," "ware 
west," as the same is carried. The hurlers take their next 

hitles, dales, hedges, ditches ; yea, and thorow 
bushes, briars, mires, plashes, and rivers whatsoever, so as 
you shall sometimes see twenty or thirty lie tugging toge- 
ther in the water, scrambling and scratching for the ball. 

Stmtt says, that at about the year I77S, parties of 
Irishmen used to meet in the fields at the hack of 
the British Museum (now occupied by Montague 
Place, &c.) and play at hurUng to goals. Instead of 
throwing the ball with the band, they employed for 
that purpose a kind of hat, which was flat on both 
sides and curved at the end. 

Foot-ball is played by two parties, consisting of an 
equal number of competitor, who take the field, and 
stand between two goals, placed at a distance of 
eighty or a hundred yards from each other. The 
goal is luually made witb two sticks driven into tbe 
ground, aboat two or three f>Yt apart. Tbe ball. 



[March 16, 

which consists usually of a horse's hladder blown 
and cased with leather^ is thrown into the midst of 
the ground^ and the object of each party is to drive 
it through the goal of their antagonists, which being 
achieved, the game is won. The abilities of the 
players are best displayed in the attack and defence 
of the goals : sometimes when the players become 
excited, they so far lose sight of friendly feelings as 
to commence kicking each other's shins^ in contesting 
at the goals. 

Of the noble game of cricket we need say but little^ 
partly because it is so universally known^ wherever a 
free patch of green-sward is to be met with, and 
partly because it is our object to describe those games 
which were more in vogue in " the olden time" than 
at present. Cricket was probably never more preva- 
lent in England than at the present day. 

There are other ball-games which our younger 
readers will easily call to mind, but we cannot here 
devote space to them, for the reasons just assigned 
with reference to cricket. 


That the eagle is extremely destructive to fish, and parti- 
cularly so to salmon, many circumstances would prove. 
Eagles are constantly discovered watching the fords m the 
spawning season, and are seen to seize and carry off the 
fish. Some years since, a herdsman, on a very sultry day 
in July, wbUe looking for a missing sheep, observed an 
eagle posted on a bank that overhung a pool. Presently 
the hird stooped and seized a salmon, and a violent struggle 
ensued ; when the herdsman reached the spot, ho found 
the eagle pulled under water by the strength of the fish ; 
and the calmness of the day, joined to his drenched plum- 
age, rendered him unable to extricate himself. With a 
stone the peasant broke the eagle's pinion, and actually 
secured the spoiler and his victim, for he found the salmon 
dying in his grasp. 

When shooting on Lord Sligo*s mountains, near the 
Killeries, a gentleman says he heard many particulars of 
the cagle*8 habits and history from a gray-haired peasant 
who had passed a long life in these wilds. The scarcity 
of hares, which here were once abundant, he attributed to 
the rapacity of those birds ; and he affirmed, that when in 
pursuit of these animals, the eagles evinced a degree of 
intelligence that appeared extraordinary. They coursed 
the hares, be said, with great judgment, and certain suc- 
cess; one bird was the active follower, while the other 
remained in reserve, at the distance of forty or fifty yards. 
If the hare, by a sudden turn, freed himself from his most 
pressing enemy, the second bird instantly took up the 
chase, and thus prevented the victim from having a mo- 
ment's respite. He had remarked the eagles also while 
they were engaged in fishing. They chose a small furd 
upon the rivulet which connects Glencullen with Glandul- 
lah, and posted on either side, waited patiently for the 
salmon to pass over. Their watch was never fruitless— and 
many a salmon, in its transit from the sea to the lake, 
was transferred from its natif e element to the wild aery in 
the Alpine cUff that beetles over the romantic waters oi^ 
GlencuUen,-— ? 

The burning sands of hot elimates, even at Carsfield, at 
the Cape of Good Hope, which are so arid and scorched 
that no water can be extracted fh>m them, are the soil in 
which the most succulent vegetables of which we have any 
knowledge flourish. So deleterious, indeed, is a wet season 
to their growth, that they are destroyed by it. There are 
also various tribes of vegetables that are destitute of rooU, 
and which can only be supported and nourished by ttie air, 
and the moisture which it contains. It is stated that the 
aerial Epidendron, (Epidendronflas aeris,) which is a native 
of Java, is plucked up by the inhabitonts, on account of the 
elegance of its leaves the beauty of its flowers, and the ex- 
quisite odour it diffuses, and suspended by a silken cord 
from the ceiling of their apartments, where it eontinues 
from year to year to put forth new leaves, to display new 
blossoms, and e&hale new fragrance, though fed only by 
the air. — ? ' 


The hrief outline which we have given of the nature 
and cause of Echoes, will, we hope, enable onr readers 
to understand the reason why Echoes are so different 
in their character and frequency, according to the cir- 
cumstances under which they ar^ produced. 

If a person standing in a narrow passage, were to 
throw a hall forcibly against the wall, it would rehound 
against the opposite wall, be again reflected ht}m 
thence^ and perhaps a third and a fourth time^ be 
reflected from side to side before it fell to the ground. 
The number of times that these rebounds would occur, 
would depend on two circumstances : first, the width 
of the passage; and second, the force with which the 
ball is thrown : of the truth of this any one can easily 
convince himself by experiment. Again, if a school- 
boy strikes his marble against the side of a stone, and 
there be another projecting stone opposite to the first, 
the marble will rebound from one surface to the other 
and back again^ and this would occur perhaps several 

Now exactly the same thing would occur, if there 
were a perpendicular wall, or rock, behind apQTSon who 
utters a sound as well as one before him : the sound of 
his voice would be reflected from one surface (in the 
manner which we illustrated by reference to a racket- 
ball), and travelling backwards, would strike against 
the opposite surface, situated behind him, from which, 
being reflected again, it would once more travel to the 
opposite wall, and so on until the sound became too 
weak to travel further. In every backward journey it 
would strike upon the ear of the speaker, and es 
many Echoes as he could appreciate separately, so 
many times has the sound travelled to and fro. 

This then is the cause of the oft- repeated Echoes 
which are heard of in different parts of the woK-ld. 
The two opposite walls of a building, or two perpen- 
dicular rocks, one on each side of a ravine or mo'v^an- 
tain-pass, or two lofty buildings separated by a ur Ide 
space, may all, if they be parallel to each otka^er, 
become the home of Echo : a sound will be reflect ^d 
from one to the other: and if the surfaces be exa<7tly 
opposite to each other, the reflexions will be nuMJe- 
rous: and, as Dr. Arnott observes, a sound produced ' 
between them is repeated often, "playing like a shuttle- 
cock between them, but becoming more faint each 
time, until it is heard lio more. In some situations, 
particularly when the sound plays thus above the 
smooth surface of water, a pistol-shot may be counted 
forty times. ** 

Addison mentions an Echo near Milan which will 
return the sound of a pistol, fifty-six times. 

Lord Bacon describes an Echo in the church of 
Pont-Charenton, on the River Seine, in which he 
discovered the inability of an Echo to return the letter 
S, for having pronounced the word SATAN, the Echo 
replied VA-T-EN, which in French means "Be off" 
or " Go away. " From this circumstance the French 
priests concluded that soriie protecting angel prevented 
the walls of the sacred building j&om pronouncing the 
name of Satan. 

The Rev. GQbert White, in his Natural History of 
Selbome, has devoted one of his charming letters 
(the 34th.) to a description of an Echo at Selbome, 
in which however there is nothing remarkable, except 
in the manner in which it is treated. 

On the banks of the Rhine, near Lurley, there is a 
remarkable Echo, produced by the singular disposition 
of the two elevated banks of the river following pa- 
rallel lines in a serpentine direction, and thus present* 
ing many reflecting surfaces to the rays of sound. -^ 
When travellers pass near this spot it is usual for the 

postilions to sound their horns. The mosical sounds 




are soon repeated clearly and distinctly^ and again a 
second, a third, and even a fourth time, as if from a 
progressively-increasing distance, until they fade 
away. When this experiment is performed in a boat 
placed midway between the two banks^ the repetitions 
of the sound are more numerous. 

There is a legend connected with this Echo^ at 
which, we are happy to say, the correct views of mo- 
dern science, and its salutary effects on the mind, now 
enable us to smile. The legend informs us " that a beau- 
tiful nymph resided on the rock of Lurley, which 
overshadows a dangerous eddy; and often when the 
amazed boatmen sailed through the stream, listening 
to the mysterious voices around him, his bark was 
drawn within the Vortex, and he was left to perish 
under the dwelling of the siren. The reports of her 
beauty and the cruelty of her disposition, attracted 
the attention of the youthful son of the Count Pala- 
tine of a neighbouring country 3 and he determined on 
seeing her, and carrying her captive to his father's 
court. But his fate was sad ; for on arriving, escorted 
by a few followers, in the troubled waters qf Lurley,- 
his boat whirled round and disappeared. Grieved at 
the loss of his son, the Count sent a small band to 
seize the relentless damsel, and they were about to do 
so j when a sudden hurricane swelled the stream, the 
waves crested with foam, rose to the top of the rock," 
and encompassing the lovely Undine ^, saved her from 
the rude grasp of man, and carried her to the realm 
of her faUiers. Her voice is still heard, returning the 
sounds of sadness and of mirth, but her form is no 
longer seen on the rocks of Lurley.** 

These instances are sufficiently interesting ; but a 
remarkable addition to the effect of Echo is produced, 
when the surface from which the reflection occurs 
is concave or hollow. Here again we shall find 
a racket-ball useful as an illustration: — suppose 
a room^ or a piece of ground, were perfectly cir- 
cular, and surrounded by a high wall; if two 
players were within the space, and one of them 
occupied exactly the centre, wherever the latter one 
struck the ball, it would invariably return to him 
9gain; whichever part of the wall he directed the ball 
to, he would always fail in making it rebound to his 
companion (except when he made the ball pass over 
the head of the latter towards the wall), and the lat- 
ter would find himself deprived of his share of play. 
The reason of this is, that no part of the wall slopes 
away from the person who occupies the centre of the 
room, as every part of it is equally distant from him 
(that being one oC the properties of every circle). 

If now, instead of a bsJl, the sound of his voice 
were the object reflected from the circular wall^ all the 
reflection would return exactly to the spot occupied by 
him I and the multiplicity of these reflections or Echoes, 
would produce an extraordinary loudness of sound to 
his ear. But any other person in the room would be 
in the condition of the inactive racket-player, he would 
to be sure hear the sound of his neighbour's voice 
coming direct to him, but he would not hear one of the 
Echoes. Were it possible for the floor and ceiling of 
a room" to be constructed as a hollow globe^ that is, 
equally concave above, around, and below; a person 
placed in the centre would hear his own voice with 
most stunning effect, as an Echo would come from 
every conceivable point of the surface. 

The shape of an egg is familiar to all our readers, 
waA it is easy to conceive a flat surface, having the 
same shape as the outline of the egg : this is called an 
oval, or elliptical surface, and may be considered as a 

* A Germao tenn for a sea-nympli, or wtter-nympft. There is a 
wiU and beautiful tale, well known to the German Student, entitled 
'* Vndine" written by the Baron de la Motte Fouqu6, 

circle flattened on two'of its sides. Many of our 
young friends are doubtless acquainted with the mode 
of forming an oval from pieces of two different- si zed 
circles 3 and that, as well as simple inspection will 
show, the centre of the oval is not equi-disant 
from every part of the boundary. If, therefore, 
a room were of an oval shape, and a person standing 
in the middle were to throw a ball against the wall, 
it would not rebound to the spot occupied by him, 
except from the two points nearest, and the two 
points farthest from him ; if he cast the ball in any 
other direction, it would rebound* to some other part 
of the oval space. But it is remarkable, that a per- 
fect oval contains two spots, both of which possess 
many of the properties which belong only to one 
centre. If two persons were standing, one on each 
spot, and one of them were to strike the ball, it 
would invariably rebound towards the other player : 
by no method of throwing the ball could he make it 
rebound- to himself again, except from two points j 
viz., the one nearest to, and the one farthest from 

Let us now, as before, apply this reasoning to the 
reflection of sound. If the person situate at one of 
those favoured spots were to produce a sound, instead 
of throwing a ball j' the Echoes would all^ congregate 
togards the other spot, while he himself would hear 
none of them. This singular effect of concentration 
after reflection would be beautifully shown, if we had 
an oval room, the wall of which was covered with 
looking-glass or polished metal. If a candle were 
placed in one of those centre^ all the reflections, 
except two, of its light would assemble together at 
the other centre, so that a great brilliancy would be 
caused at that point, while the person who held the 
candle would see but two images of it in the polished 
surface. It is from this circumstance that the two 
centres have acquired the name of foci, (or fire- 
places,) because wherever an accumulation of light 
exists, great heat exists also. In proportion as the 
oval approaches to a circular form, the two foci are 
nearer to each other ; but if it be a long oval, they 
are further asunder, and approach nearest to the 
small ends of the oval. 

If our readers have been able to follow this brief 
description of the mode in which Echoes accumulate, 
where the reflection takes place at a curved surface, 
they will be at no loss to understand the cause of 
some remarkable instances of Echo, which we shall 
adduce. There are on each side of Westminster 
Bridge several arched recesses, (intended as resting- 
places,) and placed exactly opposite to each other, 
two and two. If in the stilly calmness of night, two 
persons place themselves in two opposite recesses 
(one in each), with their backs towards each other, 
and one of them whispers, the other will bear dis- 
tinctly what he says. We may, without much im- 
propriety, call those two recesses the two small ends 
of an oval, and that the whisperer is situated in one 
focus, and the listener in the other focus of that 
oval, and that the multiplied reflection produces a 
sound as loud as if the listener's ear were close to 
the speaker. 

Great as this distance seems to be, it is much less 
than the diameter of the dome of St. PauFs, and yet 
a whisper uttered in the interior gallery of that stu- 
pendous dome is distinctly audible at the other side : 
this is due to two circumstances, — Ist, the whisper 
is reflected from side to side, and, — 2nd, it is carried 
round the circular wall, and, therefore, not dissi- 
pated as it would be in the open air ; for it is desi- 
rable here to observe, that if sound be prevented 
from spreading in one direction it will appear more 



[March 16, 1839. 

intense in another direction. Acting upon this prin- 
ciple, (although it is very douhtful whether he could 
explain the cause of it^) the itinerant dealer in the 
public streets holds his open hand at the side of his 
mouth, while calling his wares for sale, in order that 
by acting as a wall it may carry the sound in any 
particular direction. 

Mention is made of a clergyman in the country, 
who caused a concave surface, or sounding-board, to 
be placed behind him, in order that the sound of his 
voice might, after reflection from that surface, be 
carried to the remote end of his church -, it was 
found, however, that his position in the pulpit was in 
the/octf^of that curved surface, and that the echoes 
returned to his own ear with a stunning effect, and it 
was found necessary to remove the sounding-board. 

Mention has been made more than once, of situa- 
tions where the noise produced by a waterfall has 
been concentrated by the concave surface of a neigh- 
bouring cave, that a person accidentally bringing his 
car into the focus, is suddenly astonished at the tre- 
mendous and apparently unaccountable roar of many 
waters. It is not an uncommon trick to place a chair 
in the cave in the focus, so as to invite the wearied 
stranger, who often exchanges his fatigue for per- 
plexed astonishment. 

The expanded sail of a ship, made concave by a 
gentle breeze, is often a good condenser of sound. 
It is related by Dr. Amott, that a ship sailing along 
the coast of Brazil, far out of sight of land, the 
persons walking on deck, when passing a particular 
spot, heard very distinctly, during an hour or two, 
the sound of bells, varying as in human rejoicings. 
All on board came to listen, and were convinced, but 
the phenomenon was most mysterious. Months 
afterwards it was ascertained, that at the time of 
observation^ the bells of the city of St. Salvador, on 
the Brazilian coast, had been ringing on the occasion 
of a festival ; their sound, therefore, favoured by a 
gentle wind, had travelled over perhaps 100 miles of 
smooth water, and had been brought to a focus by 
the concave sail in the particular situation on the 
deck when it was listened to. 

Before concluding, we may mention that [Echoes 
will enable us to ascertain, with tolerable accuracy, 
the distance of an echoing surface from the person 
who produces the sound. 

We have before stated, that sound travels at the 
rate of 1125 feet per second; if, therefore, a person 
utters a sound, and he hears its echo one second of 
time after the sound is produced, he will know that 
the sound has travelled 1125 feet, that is 562| to the 
echoing surface, and the same distance back again. 

The greatest number of distinct sounds that the ear 
can appreciate in one second, is about ten or twelve ; 
beyond that number, they all seem to blend into one. 
If, therefore, a person were to utter ten syllables, or 
produce ten notes on a musical instrument in a second, 
and he could hear the Echo of the whole of these ten, 
he would know that the Echoing surface is not less 
than 562i feet from him: but if the Echo of the first 
notes reached him while he was producing the sixth, 
that would indicate a distance of only 28 1^ feet, the 
half of the former. If the Echo of a single sound 
returned to him about 2^ seconds after the sound was 
uttered, he would be able to calculate that the Echoing 
surface was about half a mile distant, and so of any 
other interval. 

When Echoes are distinctly audible, it will gene- 
rally be found that the distance between the reflecting 
surface and the ear of the observer, is not less than 
seventy or eighty feetj so that the sound, before it 
returns to the ear^ travels not less than 140 or 160 

feet. Echoes are constantly occuring in all our 
apartments, and the reason that we do not hear 
them is, that as sound travels so quickly, it allows 
no appreciable interval of time between its motion 
from the mouth to the walls, and back again to the 
ear of the speaker, so that the original sound and 
its Echo become so blended as to appear only one 
sound. In very large rooms however, such as music- 
rooms, the separation of the original, and of the 
reflected sound, is often painfully evident. The best 
remedy appears to be to break the surface by mould- 
ings and ornaments of various kinds. 

The reason why thunder sometimes produces a sad- 
den violent shock, and at other times, a rolling ram- 
bling sound, is that in the latter case the original noiie 
is echoed from cloud to cloud, and from cloud to earth, 
and that if large masses of cloud be situated at differ- 
ent distances fi^m the hearer, he will hear a rapid 
succession of Echoes, those reaching him first which 
have the shortest distance to travel, and thus a length- 
ened sound is heard instead of a short and sudden 

It were much to be wished, that the timorous and 
superstitious feeling with which thunder is often 
regarded by the uneducated, were replaced by a more 
just, and cheerful tone of mind. Neither pure reli- 
gion, nor a common course of reasoning, vrill justify 
the terror and mental dread so often experienced on 
the occasion. It should be regarded as one of those 
grand and sublime manifestations of the system hf 
which the great Architect governs the worlds which 
he has created, and not merely as a means of strikbg 
terror into the hearts of his creatures. There is an 
inward monitor more powerful than thunder, which 
can better perform that ofiice when necessary. 


The laugh of the hyena greatly resemUei that of t ma- 
niac, and has a startling effect as it steals through the itill 
night, even under our windows, which it approadifls in 
search of fbod. The power of imitation given to these loi- 
mals is very extraordmar^; fbr they not only crj'liki the 
Quadruped whom they wish to lure within their retdlw ^ 
tney even seem to utter human sounds. The eommabdtnt 
of a fortress on the western coast of AfHca asswed a Itdyi 
that for several evenings he had been disturbed at his diD- 
ner-hour by the laughing and screaming of the native 
women, who passed under the walls in search of water. 
He sent his serjeant to them, who desired that they might 
take some other path, and they promised to obey. The 
next evening, however, the noise was heard again, which 
highly irritated the commandant, and he desired the se^ 
jcant to lie in ambush on the third evening, and rushing 
suddenly out on them, with a few soldiers, secure the women, 
and bring them to him in the fortress. The men took their 
station as ordered, the laughing recommenced, andouttbiy 
sallied, when to their great astonishment, they only aaw 
three hyenas standing in the path which had been fie- 
quentcd by the women, and so welt counterfeiting their 
voices, that they could not have been detected but by sight 
These hyenas arc not very formidable, and will, at any tim^ 
rather tiy from, than attack a human being. 

Tliis species of the hyena are very common in American 
menageries, but they are so subdued and powerless, fron^ 
constant confinement, and so fearfully watchful of the 
kecper*s eye, that they never manifest, as prisoners, any of 
the peculiar imitative sounds which characterize them in 
their native regions. 

When the garden in the rising year begins to array itseU 
in gold and purple — in youthful brilliancy, all nature joio* 
in the scene of gladness. Twere ungrateful then for a ma^ 
to stand alone in sullen apathy. Maund. 


Pttblished iir Wuklt Numbers price One rsirmr, akd nr Honthlt PaI^ 

Pkick Sixpsncs. 
Sold by all Booksellen and Newwreodcra in tlie Ungdoni 

Sdtur^^H iHaga^nn^^ 



31°, 1839. 



E concladed onr last article with a notice of the 
tliedral of Straaboorg ; let ua now proceed, to the 
inrchof St. Thomas, ia which the most coDipicnons 
iject of curiosity is an elaborate monameat to the 
nnory of Marshal Saxe : — it was the most cele- 
Ved production of Fegalle, and was erected at the 
ipense of Louis the Fifteenth of France. Marshal 
at was a great general, though rather a dissipated 
■a, and his sovereign erected this monumeiit, — not 
I the man, — but to the general. The background of 
t moRument is a broad, tall pyramid of grey 
srble, built against the wall of the church. The 
nunid terminates below in a few steps, on the 
■est of which is a sarcophagus. The marshal is 
presented in the act of descending the steps towards 
« tomb. On the right the symbolical animals of 
Dgland, Austria, and Holland, are flying from him 
(hsmaf ; on the left, the banner of France is 
Uing in triumph. The warrior's eye is fixed with 
> npression of tranquil contempt on a figure of 
tuli standing below, thrusting out his raw head and 
*>y anus from beneath a shroud. This figure is 
iWi^ up to the marshal, in one hand, an hour- 
M, ia which the land has run out, and with the 
ber, ii opening the Mucophagu* to receive him*'' 
Vol. XIV, 

A female figure, representing France, throws henclf 
between them, exerting herself at once to hold back 
the Marshal, and to thrust away death. On one aide 
of the whole, a genius weeps over an inverted torch; 
and on the other is Hercules leaning on his club. 
The whole of these figures are as large as life, and 
are cut in marble. 

The Town Hall is a large and noble structure, and 
has its facade ornamented with antique paintinga. 
The edifices devoted to commercial purposes, though 
not elegant, are numerous and convenient, and fitted 
for the commerce of the town, which comprehends 
the usual description of imports, and the following 
exports : — com, flax, hemp, wine, spirit, Unen, sail- 
cloth, blankets, carpets, hardware, leather, cotton, 
lace, tobacco, snuff, &c. 

The Protestant academy ia one of the best of that 
class ia France : as a place of instruction it may 
rival the most celebrated in Germany. It possesses 
a good collection of philosophical instruments, and a 
museum of comparative anatomy, in which all the 
articles are arranged according to the most approved 
scientific method. There is a chemical laboratory, 
and a valuable collection of objects in diflerent 
bvancbcs of natural hiaCoTY. ¥M,Vl«»&^•l 'i^'^fc 



[March 23, 

acagletnyba^ a separate library -, but tbere are, besides, 
wo other libraries, one belonging to the observatory, 
and the other open to the public. The last-mentioned 
library contains 55,000 vplunies -, and as a relic of 
an honoured townsman, it is made the repository of 
the sword of General Kleber, and of the stiletto of 
his assassin. 

The Medical School of Strasbourg, after being long 
an academy, was constituted an university in the 
seventeenth century. It was curtailed in the number 
and importance of its. classes at the time of the 
French Revolution, but was replaced on its former 
footing in 1803. It was in the same year also that 
the Protestant University was established. 

The once Royal Castle of Strasbourg, when Alsace 
was a province of political importance, is now the 
residence of the bishop. 

There are perhaps few feelings more generally dif- 
fused than an affectionate regard from the inhabitants 
of a particular town, towards any native of that place 
who may have saised himself in reputation for great 
or good actions. The truth seems to be, that the 
inhabitants feel as if part of the honour which de- 
volves on the man, belongs to the town which gave 
him birth -, and they feel proud in owning him as a 
brother townsman. Vanity may have something to 
do with this, but it is unquestionable that it is a 
kindly and praiseworthy feeling. 

Strasbourg is not behind other cities in this re- 
spect. An obelisk to the memory of General Kleber 
is erected on a piece of ground near the town, at 
present a place for the exercise of artillery. Jean 
Baptiste Kldber was bom at Strasbourg, in 1754. 
His father was a common labourer, and young Kldber 
was himself peacefully occupied as an architect, when 
the political events of the day turned his attention to 
a military life. From 1776 to 1783 he served in the 
Austrian army, against the Turks. Having entered as 
a simple grenadier, in a French volunteer corps, in 
1792, his talents soon procured him notice^ and, 
after the capture of Mayence, he was made General 
of Brigade. It is to the credit of Kleber, that although 
he continued to serve in the French army, he openly 
disapproved of the atrocities which were too often 
witnessed at Paris. He joined Napoleon in the Egyp- 
tian expedition, and so distinguished himself, that 
when Napoleon returned to Europe, he left Kleber in 
command of the French army. Here he had to con- 
tend against countless difficulties, and at last fell a 
victim to the stiletto of a Turkish assassin, on the 
14th of June, 1800. The Strasbourgers, proud of the 
man who had raised himself from the rank of a pea- 
sant to that of commander of an army, erected an 
obelisk to the memory of their townsman. 

There is also an obelisk to the memory of General 
Desaix, which rises behind the citadel, on an island 
opposite the village of Kehl. This spot seems to have 
been selected from the circumstance that in November, 
1796, he greatly distinguished himself by his defence 
of the bridge at Kehl, while serving under Moreau, in 
the army of the Rhine. 

Another distinguished native of Strasbourg, was 
General Kellerman, who was born there in 1735. 
He was a general in the French army, and one of 
the few who survived the eventful period of the revo- 
lution ; and, when he died in 1820, ordered his heart 
to be buried on the field of Valmy, where he had 
greatly distinguished himself twenty-eight years 

If we quit the arena of warfare, and enter upon the 
ihore tranquil and pleasing subject of mental im- 
provement, we find Strasbourg to be distinguished as 
the first place in which the art of printing was carried 

on with moveable types. John Gutenberg, whose real 
name was Henne Gaiisefieisch von Sorgenloch, was 
born in 1396 at a small village near Mentz. Wheu a 
young man, he became implicated in an insurrection 
of the citizens of Mentz against the nobility, and he 
was forced to fiee to Strasbourg. In 1436 he entered 
into a contract with Andrew Dreizehn, and others, 
binding himself to teach them certain secret arts,^nd 
to employ them for their common advantage. The 
death of Dreizehn, which happened soon after, frus- 
trated the proceedings of the company, which is sup- 
posed to have had reference to the art of printing. 
Gutenberg became involved in lawsuits, but at last 
succeeded, in partnership with Faust, a rich citizen of 
Mentz, in putting his noble discovery into execution. 
But an interested party opposed itself to his progress, 
and succeeded in driving him from the town in exile, • 
— a fate which too much resembles that of many 
other benefactors of mankind. Posterity has acknow- 
ledged his merits by erecting, in 1837> a splendid 
monument to his memory at Mentz. 

The management of the Charitable Institutions, as 
well as prison discipline, at Strasbourg, is said to be 
highly creditable to the good sense and good feeling 
of the inhabitants, and worthy of the imitation of 
other towns. 

There is perhaps no town either in France or in 
Germany, in which the manners, customs, and lan- 
guages of both nations are more mingled together 
than at Strasbourg. There are many reasons for 
this. Strasbourg is the most eastern town in France, 
and is only separated from Germany by the width of 
the Rhine ; the common intercourse of persons on 
the opposite sides of a river, for the purposes of com- 
merce, would alone be sufficient to occasion a con- 
siderable admixture of customs in the place. 'Bnt 
there are other circumstances tending to the same 
point. Strasbourg is altogether a German name, and 
the town formed a part of Germany for many centu- 
ries, — hence its German associations. On the other 
hand it has formed part of the territory of France 
for the last hundred and fifty years, and therefore 
has necessarily imbibed a large share of French man- 
ners. It appears, in this, as in many similar instanceSi 
that the wealthier part of the inhabitants adopt the 
modes and speak the language of the court to which 
they belong, while the humbler classes adhere, to a 
considerable extent, to the language and manners of 
their forefathers. This seems to be the case in Stras- 
bourg : the educated inhabitants speak French, while 
the more simple and humble adhere to their original 

The same mixture of two nations is visible in the 
diet and modes of cooking. Mr. Russell, speaking 
from a personal visit to Strasbourg, thus remarks on 
this subject ; — " At Strasbourg you may dine on 
dishes as impenetrably disguised, or languish over 
entremets as nearly refined away to nothing, as at the 
tables of the great Parisian rivals. Very and Vegours j 
or, on the other side of the street, for half the montj, 
you may have German fat, plain boiled beef, and 
some cabbage. The German kitchen is essentially a 
plain, solid, greasy kitchen : it has often by far too 
much of the last quality. People of rank, indeed, tt^ 
the great capitals, are as mad on French cookery, b* 
the most delicate of their equals in London ; but tb^ 
national cookery, in its general character, is the very 
reverse of that of France ; and it is by no meao^ 
certain that the national cookery of a people may nO* 
have some connexion with its national character 
The German justly prides himself on the total absence 
of parade, on the openness, plainness and sincerity 
which marks his character ; accordingly he boils ht^ 




beef, and roasts his mutton and fowls just as they 
come from the hands of the butcher and poulterer.*' 

If we wish to become acquainted with the national 
style of dress of a particular people, we shall do 
wrong to go to their capitals, or their chief cities 5 
because there is a very generad tendency among the 
wealthy of one town to copy the style of dress of 
those ' in another. It is in the villages and seques- 
tered places that the really national costume may be 
expected to reside. In describing the dress of the 
Strasbourgers, therefore, it will be better to go a little 
out of the town, and take our models from the in- 
habitants of the villages between Strasbourg and 
Hagnenau. They go to mass or to the Reformed 
Church, in their best dresses. A square black coat 
is purposely left open to show a red waistcoat, with 
gilt buttons. Loose boots made of soft leather, or 
long gaiters, are attached to black rateen breeches. 
A broad hat completes the costume. The dress of 
the women has been thought to be more graceful ; it 
is certainly more showy. The hat does not conceal 
flowing ringlets, or ribbons of various colours, but 
the latter are worn only by the young, and never by 
married women. Long gilt pins serve to fasten the 
hair, and rise in the form of a coronet. A black silk 
handkerchief covers the neck, and the bodice is 
adorned with many ornaments. Broad sleeves of 
white linen descend to the waist. 


In the various modes of water-conveyance to which 
the traveller on this globe is subjected, there is per- 
haps no one more curious than that of descending 
one of the great rapids of America, in a small bark 
canoe, under the command, as is customary, of two 
Indians ; and the anxiety to witness this spectacle is 
perhaps not at all disagreeably spiced by that still, 
warning voice of reason, which gravely admonishes 
the traveller that his undertaking, interesting as it 
may be, is not altogether divested of danger. 

Besides the rocks, shoals, and snags, which are to 
be avoided, unceasing attention must be given to the 
innumerable logs of hewn timber, which, having been 
wafted by the lumberers to the commencement of the 
rapid, are then left to be hurried for eight or nine 
miles towards their market — sometimes separately, 
sometimes hustling each other, sometimes floundering, 
and sometimes, if anything irritates or obstructs their 
passage, rearing up in the water, until they almost 
reel over. As soon as a berth or clear place is ob- 
served between these masses of floating timber, the 
elder Indian, who is seated at the head of the canoe, 
his younger comrade being at the stem, and the pas- 
senger in the middle, calmly lets go his hold of the 
bank, and the two Indians, each furnished with a 
single paddle, immediately standing up, the frail 
band-box which contains them indolently floats until 
it reaches the edge or crest of the rapid — ^which is no 
sooner passed, than the truth rushes upon the mind 
of the traveller, that all possibility of stopping has 
ceased, and that this *' hubble-bubble, toil and trou- 
ble" must continue until the eight or nine miles of 
the rapids shall be passed. 

In the apparent turmoil of the scene, in which the 
canoe is preceded, as well as followed, by masses of 
huge timl^r, the slightest touch of which would an- 
nihilate it — the icy-cold judgment of the old Indian — 
his collected but lightning-like decision — the simpli- 
city and tranquillity of his red, beardless face, thatched 
liver with his bluff-cut, black, lank hair — ^his total 
absence of fear or bravado— his immutable presence 
of mind-— and, in places of the greatest possible noise 

and confusion in the waters, the mild tone of voice 
with which he softly utters to his young comrade the 
monosyllable that directs him to steer the stern of 
the canoe in the direction opposite to that which he 
gives to its head — form altogether a most striking 
contrast with the boisterous scene, the sudden kaleido- 
scope changes of which it is utterly impossible to de- 
scribe ; for one danger has been no sooner avoided than, 
instead of reflecting upon it for a moment, the eye is 
attracted to a second, as suddenly passed and suc- 
ceeded by a third. Sometimes the canoe rapidly 
dashes over a sunken rock, or between two barely 
covered fragments, which to have touched would have 
been ruin 3 in avoiding these a snag is passed, which 
would have spitted the canoe had it impinged on 
it ; sometimes the middle of the stream is the safest ; 
sometimes the Indian steers close to the steep, rocky 
bank, where it becomes evident the velocity of 
the current is so great, that if the canoe were to be 
upset, its passengers, even if they could snatch hold 
of the bough of a tree, could not hang on to it, without 
being suffocated by the resistance which in that posi- 
tion they would offer to the rushing waters. Some- 
times, at a moment when all is apparently prosperous, 
and the water, on account of its greater depth or 
breadth, has become- comparatively tranquil, some of 
the timber a-head, going down head foremost, strikes 
either against the side, or some sunken rock in the 
middle of the stream, in which case the tree suddenly 
halts, and, veering round, impedes the rest of the 
timber, until the congregated mass, forcing its way, 
thus clears the passage, perhaps just before the canoe 
reaches it. At other times, in traversing the stream 
to avoid difficulties, the pursuing timber approaches 
the canoe nearer than is agreeable. In some places 
the river suddenly narrows, and here, it is said, the 
waves are not only tremendous, but the whole cha- 
racter of the torrent seems to be changed, for the 
water apparently ceases altogether to descend the 
channel, doing nothing but as it were boiling and 
bubbling up from the bottom. In approaching this 
caldron, the case seems hopeless, and often con- 
tinues so until the canoe is close upon it, when the 
Indian's eagle eye searches out some little aqueous 
furrow, through which his nutshell vessel can pass, 
and though his countenance is as tranquil as ever, yet 
the muscular exertion he makes to attain this passage 
will not, it is said, easily be forgotten by any passen- 
ger whose fortune it has ever been to observe it. As 
soon as the declivity of the rapids has ended, the 
water instantly becomes tranquil, the Indians sit 
down in the canoe, and, on reaching the shore, one 
of them carries it on his shoulders during the re- 
mainder of the day. Quarterly Review 

Ma.n was formed with an understanding, for the attainment 
of knowledge; and happy is he who is employed in the 
pursuit of it. Ignorance is in its nature unprofitable ; but 
overy kind of knowledge may be turned to use. Diligence 
is generally rewarded with the discovery of that which it 
seeks after; sometimes of that which is more valuable. 
Human learning, with the blessing of God upon it, intro- 
duces us to divine wisdom ; and while we study the works 
of nature, the God of nature will manifest himself to us ; 
since, to a well-tutored mind, ** The heavens/* without a 
miraele, *' declare his glory, and the firmament sheweth his 
handy-work." — Bishop Horxb. 

•"■-^— ^— ^"^" 

It is well said that nothing is lost The drop of water 
which is spilt, the fragment of paper which is burnt, the 
plant that rots on the ground, all that perishes and is for- 
gotten, equally seeks the atmosphere, and all is there 
preserved, and thence daily returned for use^ — Mac- 







No. IV. Thk Clefsydka, or Watkk-Clocx. 
As the Bnn-dial can be of no etc when the snn ii 
clouded, and daring the time between ranset and 
eunrise, whether that period be more or leaa than 
twelve honra, we find that, from a very early period, 
the lapse of eqnal inteirals of time waa noted by the 
dropping of water from one vesKl into another, the 
rapidity of the flow being adjusted to the size of the 

The general title of Cleptyira was givea to these 
instmmettta ; that being the name originally given to 
the first inetmment of the kind used at Athens, It 
ia derived from xXirru, (I steal), and iiif (water), — 
evidently alludiag to the Mlealtky way in which the 
water flowed from them. Clepsydras were in general 
ao arranged that a given quantity of water flowed out 
in exactly half a day, or in exactly a whole day, as 
might be deemed most desirable ; and the aper- 
ture, by which the water escaped, was so adjusted 
that an equal quantity shonid flow ont every hour. 
This being the groundwork of the arrangement, the 
form and minor details of the instrument were 
rariouB. Thus Ctesibius, an Egyptian, who flonrished 
in the second century before the Chnstiaa era, is 
aaid to have constructed a little model of the human 
fignre, of which the head had a dejected and droop- 
ing appearance. This is not shown in the figure. 
Tears dropped from his eyes into a vessel containing 
water at a, whence it flowed throngh a pipe into the 
cistern b, upon the snrface of which another Uttle 
figure floated, placed on the top of the rod e, who had 
a wand in his hand, which pointed to the day and 
hour on a pillar near him. 

Now the cistern b, having been emptied at the 
close of one day, waa filled from 
A, in another day of twenty-four 
boun; and when the water which 
rose in the leg of the siphon-tube 
connected with the cistern. Sowed 
over the part C, the cistern waa 
again emptied by this siphon into 
one division of the water.wheel at 
a, which was caused to turn a 
certain space downwards, by the 
weight of the water thus thrown 
oat. This wheel has a pinion, 
which sets a toothed wheel in 
motioD, which, by its axis, moves 
another wheel below. The con- 
■eqnence of this arrangement is, that the column f 
turns round once in a year, or ihth of a circle in one 
day. The colnmn has straight lines, lengthwise, ac- 
cording to the days of the year, and curved lines, 
ronnd it, answering to the hoars of the day ; these 
latter vary in their distances according to the lengths 
of the hours, which with many of the ancients were 
longer in Summer than in Winter. The day, there- 
fore, was just ending, when the float was up even with 
c, and b^an as soon ai b became empty. 

Descriptions have been handed down to us of 
clepsydras in which the flowing of water combined 
wiUi the mechanical action of wheel-work, enabled 
the observers to note, not only the division of a day 
into hours, but also the age of the moon, and the 
position of the ann in the ecliptic, Vitmvius, the 
celebrated writer on architecture, gives descriptions of 
clepsydras, which not only afforded astronomical in- 
formation, bnt blew trumpets, projected stones, and 
performed other wonderful offices, 
Th« invention of clepsydras appears ane either to 

the Babylonians, or to the Egyptians, — most probably 
to the latter. In support of which supposition rcFe- 
rence has been made by some writers to the ancient 
Niloroeters, or Canobs, as having possibly suggested 
the idea. The nilometer was a tank, or cistern, eon- 
taining water ; and an officer was deputed to observe 
the quantity of water in the tank, so that it shonid 
serve as an index to the state of the Nile. The fn> 
tihty of that remarkable country was and is depea- 
dant greatly on the overflowing of the Nile ; aH 
persons, by inspecting the nilometer, were enabled to 
judge of the rapidity of the rise or fall, by the lid 
of a graduated scale placed inside the tank. Sochu 
indication of seasons by the flowing of water might 
have suggested the idea of measuring the bonis of 
the day by similar means. 

Bnt, be that as it may, the water-cIockB firand 
their way into Greece, and about two centuries before 
the Christian era, Scipio Nasica, the cousin of Scipio 
Africanns, brought one to Rome. Clepsydras were, 
from their construction, rather costly, one being cod- 
aidered sufficient for each town. It was situated in 
an open place, and the nobles and wealthy familiM 
used to employ servants (generally boys or girls) to 
acquaint them with the time, as indicated by tk 
public clepsydra, which was always attended or 
guarded by a slave. The humbler classes had iln 
the means of knowing the time at stated periodi, 
when the city guard was changed. The attendant of 
the clepsydra blew a horn at regnlar intervals, >s ■ 
signal for the changing of the guard, and the sonnd 
of the horn could be heard to a considerable distaon 
Cicero relates that, in the Roman conrla of joitice 
and in the senate, clepsydras were kept, to confioe 
the speeches of the advocates and senators within 
due limits : hence, a forward, noisy speaker,— « 
brawler or wrangler, — was said "to bark it tke 
clepsydra," a term applied to those who talked with 
great volubility and pertinacity during the tiaK 
allotted to them for their speeches. This allottai 
time waa regarded with jealous eagerness by tht 
speakera, and, in order that no fraud or deceit laigU 
be practised, an officer was appointed to distriboli 
the water equally to both parties. The apeaketl 
were BO careful not to lose or mis-spend their tioM* 
measuring water, that, if at all interrupted, tb9 
would stop the flawing of it during the coatlnninei 
of the interruption. If, however, any person bad 
ended his speech before the time allowed him hid 
expired, he was permitted to give the water that rfr 
mained in the clepsydra to another speaker, who by 
that means was enabled to lengthen his own speech. 
These instruments were afterwards kept as articles of 
necessity in the houses of the great. 

Ceeiar, when he conquered Britain in the few 
54 B.c, is said to have seen a clepsydra there, and 
by its indications, to have observed that the length 
of the day (as distinguished from night) was, in tbe 
Summer months, greater in Britain than at Rome. 
This fact, respecting the length of the day, is owing 
to the greater northern latitude of Britain ; but ho* 
Bach an instrument came into the hands of tbe 
Britons, whether it was the result of their own i» 
vention, or borrowed from their southern neighbonni 
we have not now the means of determining 

It is at all times difficult to trace the extension of 
the use of a process or an instmment &om one nation 
to another. The comparatively recent invention of 
printing leaves the history of many ingenions in. 
ventiooB in the uncertain and perishable fbnn of 
manuscript, or still less certain, that of oral tnditioiL 
For instance, it was not until within a few yean, that 
■ tiBiulation of a Hindoo book has brought to om 








knowledge the fact that clepsydras were known in 
India 700 years b.c. The Hindoos, however^ were, 
of old, skilled in mathematics and astronomy. 

The invention of clocks and watches brought both 
the stta-dial and the clepsydra very mnch into disase. 
Tycho Brah^, the celebrated astronomer in the six- 
teenth century, measured the motions of the stars by 
means of a clepsydra 3 but since his time it has been 
very little else than a philosophical toy, and is now 
only regarded as a relic of former days. They were 
much in use in the dark ages, and were fonnd made 
of tin in France and Italy in Ihe seventeenth century. 
Another mode in which clepsydras have been con- 
stmctedy it that of a cylindrical column of water, of 
a definite height, with a small hole in the 
bottom of the vessel, for the water to 
escape. Suppose, in the annexed figure, 
such a column to be one hundred inches 
in height, and that the water was found 
to occupy exactly ten minutes in flowing 
out: one side of the vessel must be divided 
by marks or lines into ten parts 3 so that 
when the water had sunk, say from 10 to 
9, we should know that one tenth of the 
time had elapsed since the water began to 
flow. Before the laws which regulate 
fluid bodies were well understood, there 
was great inaccuracy in the construction 
of this form of clepsydra > but Ctesibius 
applied himself to the removal of such 
errors, and found that, in conformity with 
those laws, the marks or divisions for the 
hour-lines of a clepsydra must not be equi- 
distant, but must decrease in distauce in 
a certain ratio from above, downwards. 
When the vessel is full, the water flows out 
more rapidly from the hole in the bottom, 
than when it is but half full; and in the 
latter case more rapidly than when only 
one quarter full, and so on. This being 
the case, it is found that the divisions must 
be regulated thus : suppose the vessel, as 
before, to be one hundred inches in height, 
and of equal diameter throughout j then 
the different portions of water between 10 
and 9, 9 and 8, &c., flow out in equal 
times, one minute for each portion. If we 
now look to quantiiy, we find that there 
flows out in the first minute the difference 
between 100 and 81, equal to 19 inches 
in height of water; in the second minute 
17 inches and so on. The higher the 
column, the more quickly the water flows 
out, in consequence of the pressure from above 3 so 
that a greater quantity flows out in a given time, at 
the early part of this clepsydra's action than at the 
close. By inspecting the figure we observe that 
the quantity which flows out in a iriven time is as the 
square pf the time. 

There have been two modes suggested, by which 
the divisions may be equidistant. One is by having 
the vessel not cylindrical, but parabolical 3 that is, 
something like a bee-hive turned upside down, with 
a small hole in the middle : in this case the greater 
diameter of the open end would counterbalance the 
greater velocity of the flow when the vessel was full. 
The other suggestion is to let water flow from one 
yeasel to another, through a siphon tube of very 
small bore. One of the properties of the siphon is 
that liquids flow through it with a constant degree of 
rapidity, and this has caused it to be employed as a 
water-clock. A clepsydra, on this principle, was de- 
posited in the Nationid Repository a few years ago by 
Bftr. Fartington. 




The ancients sometimes employed as clepsydras 
hollow globes, and at other times open cups, the 
globe and the cup each having a small hole in the 
bottom. The instrument was made to float upon 
water, which, gradually entering at the little hole, 
filled the space within, and after the lapse of a certain 
time, the globe or cup would sink. 

There were anciently clepsydras, in which the liquid 
employed was mercury or quicksilver: it is indeed 
obvious that any liquid may be made available for this 
purpose, by regulating the size of the orifice accord- 
ingly. ' 



Thoosaxds, O Lord of hosts! this day 

Around thine altar meet ; 
And tena of thousands throng to pay 

Their homage at thy feet. 

Hiey see thy power and glory there, 

As I have seen them too; 
They read, they hear, they join in pmyer^ 

Ab I was wont to do. 

They sing thy deeds, as I have song, 

In sweet and solemn hi^. 
Were I among them, my glad tongue 

Might learn new themes of pnise. 

For thou art in the midst, to teaeb, 

When on thy name they .call ; 
And thou hast blessings. Lord, for eaoh» 

Hast blessings, Lord, for alL 

I, of Buoli fellowship heieft. 

In spirit turn to theeu 
Ohl hast then not a blessing left? 

A blessing, Lord, for me ? 

The dew lies thick on all the groand, 

BhaU my poor fleeoe be dry ? 
The manna rains from heaven around. 

Shall I of hunger die? 

Behold thy prisoner t loose my bonds,' 

If *tis thy gracioua will. 
If not, contented in thine hands, 

Behold thy prisoner still ! 

I may not to thy oourts repair, 

Yet here thou surely art : 
Lord, consecrate a house of prayer 

In my surrendered heart. 

To £uth, reveal the things unseen ; 

To hope, the joys untold ; 
Let love, without a veil between, 

Thy glory now behold. 

Oh ! make thy face on me to shine, 

That doubt and fear may cease ; 
lift up thy countenance benign 

On me, and give me peace* 

Jamzs MoHTooxnsT* 

Fastidiousness, the discernment of defects, and the pro* 
pensity to seek them, in natural beauty, are not the proofs 
of taste, but the evidences of its absence : it is at least an 
insensibility to beauty ; it is worse than that, since it is a 
depravity, when pleasure is found in the discovery of such 
defects, real or imaginary. And he who affects this, be* 
eause he considers it an evidence of his taste, is, at leasts 
pitiably ignorant; while not seldom punished by the eon« 
Torsion of that affectation into a reality. And it is the same 
in criticism, as applied to works of literature. It is not the 
eyeforfaultStbutbeauties, that constitutes the real critic, 
in this, as in all else : he who is most discerning in the 
beauties of poetry, is the man of taste, the true judge, the 
only critic. The critic, as he is canreatly termed, who is 
discerning in nothing but Ikults, mav care Iktle to be told, 
that this u the mark of uaamiable dispositions or of bad 
passions ; but he might not feel equally easy, were be con- 
vinced that he thus ^ves the most absolute proofs of igno 
lance and want of taste.-— Haccuixoch. 



[March 23, 


The tree-like size of these plants associates them in 
some measure with palms. They are applied^ in 
China, India, and Japan, to a great nnmher of useful 
purposes : sections of the small ones are made into 
cups, and of the larger ones into tubs and boxes. 
Water-pipes are often made of them, and they are 
used in the construction of fences, building houses 
and boats, and making various articles of furniture. 
The tender tops of the young shoots form a favourite 
West India pickle. 

Perhaps the best idea, though still a faint one, of 
the beauty and magnificence of these arborescent 
grasses, may be given to the untravelled naturalist, 
by quoting Capt Basil HalFs account of the impres- 
sion a first view produced on him. He says, Early 
in the morning of a beautiful day in the latter end of 
September, I set out from the bare table-land of My- 
sore, and proceeded towards the hilly and thickly- 
wooded regions overhanging the Malabar country. 
When I awoke in my palankeen, I knew not very 
distinctly where I had got to, for I had been dreaming 
all night about the monstrous statue at Shrivaabalagol. 
I sat up, drew the door gently back, and, looking out, 
found myself in the midst of one of the most curious 
and magnificent scenes which my ejres had ever 
beheld. It appeared as if I were travelling among 
the clustered columns of some enormous and en- 
chanted Gothic cathedral, compared to which the 
minster at York, or the cathedral at Winchester, 
would have seemed mere baby-houses ; the ground 
extended on all sides as smooth and flat, and clear of 
under-wood, as if the whole had been paved with 

From this level surface rose on every hand, and 
as far as the eye could penetrate into the forest, 
immense symmetrical clusters of bamboo, varying in 
diameter at their base from six feet to twenty or 
thirty ; and even to twice that width, as I ascertained 
by actual measurement. For about eight or ten feet 
from the ground, each of these clusters or columns 
preserved a form nearly cylindrical, after which they 
began gradually to swell outwards, each bamboo 
assuming for itself a graceful curve, and rising to the 
height, some of sixty, some of eighty, and some even 
of one hundred feet in the air, — the extreme end being 
at times horizontal, or even drooping gently over, 
like the tips of the feathers in the Prince of Wales's 

These gorgeous clusters stood at the distance of 
fifteen or twenty yards from one another, and, 
being totally free from the interruption of brushwood, 
could be distinguished at a great distance — more than 
a mile certainly, in every direction, forming, under 
the influence of an active imagination, naves and 
transepts, aisles and choirs, such as none but a Gothic 
architect ever dared to conceive. Overhead the 
interlacing curves of the bamboos constituted as com- 
plete a groined roof as that of Winchester or West- 
minster, on a scale of grandeur far beyond the bold 
conception even of those wonderful artists who 
devised that glorious school of architecture, which, in 
the opinion of many people, has raised the dark cen- 
turies immediately subsequent to the era of the cru- 
sades, almost to the level of the days of Pericles . 

On counting the separate bamboos in some of the 
smallest, and also in some of the largest clusters, I 
found the numbers to vary from twenty to thirty, 
to upwards of two hundred -, and the height gene- 
rally from sixty to a hundred feet from the 
ground, to the point of intersection of the curves 
overhead. Most of the bamboos were somewhat 

thicker than a man*8 thigh at the ground, where, ai 
I have before said, they are clustered so close as tu be 
almost in contact. They then taper off very gra'la- 
ally to the extreme end, where the point is not thicker 
than a quill. 

There occurs a joint at about every foot and a half, 
distinguished not only by a slight flat ring or fillet, 
but by a set of small branches, eight or ten feet loog, 
striking out at right angles to the main bambuu. 
These minor shoots are again divided into joints, from 
which other series of shoots, still more minute, are 
thrown out; and so on for many successions, the last 
always terminating in a sharp-pointed narrow leaf, 
two or three inches long, and half an inch wide in the 
middle, not unlike a large tea-leaf when spread oat 
As each bamboo, of the hundred or more forming 
the cluster, sends out shoots from every joint, and as 
all the joints of these subordinate plants do the same, 
a compact mass is formed by these innumerable little 
branches, which cross one another at every possible 
angle. If a person were to fill a hat full of pins and 
needles, and shake it about for some minutes, it 
might give a notion of the inextricable confusion 
which is presented to the eye on looking into one of 
these clustered columns of bamboos. It is only at 
the top, where the bend takes place, that the foliage 
has full room to play, or where the tapering arms of 
this magnificent plant form, by their meetings and 
crossings, a complete system of pointed arches. 

What surprised me very much, and greatly puzzled 
me at first, was, to observe, that notwithstanding the 
multitude of lateral shoots from each of the main 
bamboos, and from all the subordinate branches, not 
a single trace of displacement, or the slightest 
obstruction to the growth of any branch, could be 
detected. Every person must have heard of the 
astonishing rapidity of the growth of the bamboo; it 
is said indeed that in one season it starts up to its 
whole length. I do not know if this be true, but am 
quite certain that if one of the main bamboos were to 
spring from the ground in the centre, or even near 
the sides,'^of the cluster, and that from its joints there 
were at the same time to sprout out the lateral branches 
I have described, it would be impossible for the miia 
stem to force its way through the obstructions pre- 
sented by the network, formed by the little branches 
growing from the joints of the other bamboos in the 

After examining a considerable number of the 
clusters, however, we can, I think, perceive bow 
nature manages this difficult affair. When the bam- 
boo first springs out of the ground, it is about bs 
thick as a man's wrist ; but it is armed with a verj 
sharp point, not unlike that of a wooden instrument 
called a fid, which sailors make use of in splicing 
ropes; as this point is extremely hard, and the 
bamboo always highly polished, it readily makes its 
way through the very thickest masses of the littk 
branches, as one might thrust a sword through a 
quickset hedge. Thus the bamboo, whose growth ii 
prodigiously rapid, starts upwards ; and by reason of 
its smooth sharp end, and perfectly smooth sidefi 
easily makes its way to its extreme length and thick^ 
ness ; without, as I conceive, sending out a single 
lateral shoot from any of its joints, tiU the utmon 
extent has been gained. The subordinate branchci^ 
from the joints then, but not till then, begin to staif 
out horizontally, all these being, after the manner of ^ 
the principal stem, exempted from lateral shoots 9^"- 
their joints till their utmost length has been reached.; 
lu consequence of this beautiful arrangement, none!^ 
i){ these successive branches, however uumeroui or i 
delicate, find any difficulty in piercing the cout'ttsioo.^ ' 




I saw bamboos in every different stage of this 
process, and in particular I noticed several of the 
main stems rising to the height of seventy feet and 
upwards, of a clear yellow colour, and evidently of 
recent growth, but without a single lateral branch 
growing from their joints from top to bottom ; and 
this led me to infer that their extreme height had not 
yet been reached^ or was but just attained. 


AoENTLEifAN iti the Island of St Croix, instituted several 
experiments with reference to ascertaining the truth of 
«hat he had been often told, of the ingenuity, and apparent 
reasonings, of the ant of that beautiful island. Having slain 
a centipede, which had been sent him by a friend, he laid 
it on the window-stool within his apartment, where, though 
not a single individual of that mischievous riice of vermin 
had been seen, to his great gratification, in the course of 
a fev hours, one solitary ant suddenly made its appearance 
through a crevice in the casing, attracted, probably, by the 
odour of the dead body. Shortly after, having surveyed 
the premises, it disappeared, but speedily returned, with a 
host of companions, to whom the discovery of a prize had 
unquestionably been communicated ; a more careful survey 
of the magnitude of the object was evidently instituted. 
The whole company then disappeared simultaneously 
through the crack ; but an army was put in requisition, for 
the third appearance was a multitude. 

Having mounted the carcass, examined minutely its 
exact position, and satisfied themselves that it was actually 
bereft of life, and that no danger would be incurred from 
their premeditated operations, a new and unlooked-for 
series of labours were commenced, bearing such a striking 
analogy to human reason, as manifested in what is com- 
pQOQly called contrivance, that if there is no intelligence in 
tt,~why, the metaphysicians have in reservation an unex- 
plored field of observation. Not being able to move the 
mass entire, they divided themselves into platoons, and cut 
the body into portions of about half an inch in length, 
which was effectually and skilfully done, between a late 
hour in the afternoon and the following night, and each 
piece transported to their citadel, through some contiguous 
aperture, of sufficient diameter to allow the loads to pass. 
When the observer arose at daylight, every part had been 
carried away but the head, which was really moving off 
towards the bole, surrounded by an immense concourse of 
admiring spectators, probably on the gut vive, happy in the 
delightful anticipation of future feasts and revellings. On 
further scrutiny, he found that the decapitated head was 
mounted on the backs of about a dozen bearers, who, like 
a Roman phalanx with a testudo upon their shoulders, were 
marching off in an orderly manner, towards the same orifice 
through which all the rest had disappeared. — ? 

I coiTFBSs myself to be one of those who believe, that it is 
not always in the capital, or among the busy haunts of a 
large town, that a traveller has the best opportunities of 
making himself acquainted with the character, and habits, 
and dispositions of a strange people. To the capital you 
doubtless turn, if your object be to examine into the ma- 
chinery of the general government, or to hold converse 
^ith the great and distinguished members of the com* 
oianity, whether they deserve to be so accounted because 
of any merit attaching to themselves, or owe their greatness 
to circumstances not of their own creating. But of the 
people, properly so called, a foreigner can see in the capital 
very little. He may join them in their public amusements; 
^ may observe their modes of buying and selling ; he may 
listen to tbeir conversation in the streets, or at a table 
<i hole, and form a correct enough judgment of their skill 
M artisans ; but of their character properly so called, that 
is to say, of the temper of their minds, and of the causes 
vbich produce it, he can know nothing. The state of 
society in one large town resembles, in all essential points, 
^losely the state of society in another, that the traveller 
^mes bewildered, and is not unapt to treat as pecu- 
hanties in one place, habits which, in point of fact, extend 
w beyond it. — GLstQ*s Travels in Germany f &o« . 

No. X. 

In the former articles of this course, we have consi- 
dered, at some length, the most important and inter* 
esting writing materiala. Those which remain to be 
described are slates and slate-pencils, writing tablets, 
pen-knives, and pounce. 

Writing Slates. These useful articles are made of 
the same material as the slates for the roofs of build- 
ings, but prepared and smoothed with more care. 

The principal sources of slate in England are Corn- 
wall and Devon *, various parts of North Wales, and 
of Anglesea ; near Ingleton, and in Swaledale, on the 
North West of Yorkshire 5 in Cumberland and West- 
moreland. It also occurs in a low range of moun- 
tains at Chamwood Forest, in Leicestershire, nearly in 
the centre of England. 

France possesses very valuable slate quarries, in 
which fossil organic remains are found embedded, in 
great abundance, in the slate. Vestiges of shrimps 
have been found so numerous, that forty of them have 
been found in a square foot of slate. In Italy, slate 
has been found at Lavagna, near Genoa. In Switzer- 
land, it occurs in the Canton of Glaris. Some is also 
found in Saxony ^ a great quantity in North America, 
and in other parts of the world* 

Slate is in most cases worked in open quarries, by 
<liggii^g away the upper strata of the ground until the 
slate is met with. There are only two instances in 
England in which slate is worked in a mine, by digging 
a shaft, nd then excavating galleries, in the manner 
of coal-mines. 

One of the mines of slate in France, is near Charle- 
ville, and the following is a description of it. The 
mouth of the mine is near the summit of a hill. The 
stratum of slate is about sixty feet in thickness, and 
inclines downward at an angle of 40*. It has been 
excavated, by a principal gallery, to the depth of 
400 feet *, and many lateral galleries have been driven, 
which extend about 200 feet on the side of the main 
gallery. Twenty-six ladders are placed against the 
main gallery, for the passage of the workmen and the 
carriage of the slate. The slate is cut into blocks of 
about 200 lbs. weight, which they call /air. Every 
workman, in his turn, carries them on his back to the 
very mouth of the pit, mounting the twenty- six ladders, 
or a part of them, according to the depth of the bed 
where he is working. When brought into the open air, 
these blocks are first split into thick tables, which are 
called repartons. The workman holds the block be- 
tween his legs, puts the chisel against the side, and 
divides the block with a blow of his mallet The re- 
partons are divided in a similar manner into roofing 
slates and writing slates. These operations are per- 
formed soon after the block is drawn from the quarry; 
for if the stone has time to dry, it would no longer 
be possible to split it. 

Perhaps the most remarkable reservoir of slate in 
Europe is at Hourston Crag, a lofty mountain near 
Buttermere Lake, in Cumberland : the mountain is 
nearly perpendicular, and rises to a height of 2000 feet 
above the level of the sea. On account of the difii- 
culty of access, the workmen take their provisions for 
a whole week, and sleep in temporary huts, on the 
summit of the mountain. During the winter they 
are generally involved in clouds, and not unfrequently 
blocked up by snow. The slate is conveyed down a 
zigzag path on sledges, one man attending to pre- 
vent the acceleration of the descent. When the slate 
is emptied at the bottom of the hill, the man carries 
the sledge on his shoulders up to the top. 

There is a considerable degree of strength in most 
kinds of alatc, which makes it valuable for a variety 



[March 23, 1839. 

of purposes in building. The kind used for writing 
slates is of a smooth texture. It is reduced to a state 
of considerable thinness by cleavage, and by grinding, 
and thus presents the smooth surface which is familiar 
to us. Slates are generally fixed into slight wooden 
frames, both to save them from fracture by a fall, and 
to preserve the writing which may be on them. The 
makingof these frames requires no particular comment. 

Slate Pencils. These useful articles are made of a 
softer kind of slate than the material on which they 
are employed. This kind of slate frequently accom- 
panies alum-slate, and contains a considerable portion 
of carbon. Some varieties have a slight degree of 
lustre, of which others present none. . The fracture, 
when in small fragments, is not nearly so laminated, or 
scaly, as that of comimon slate. There are several dif- 
ferent kinds of this slate, differing in some respects from 
one another, but all agreeing in the circumstance of being 
softer than the slates. used as writing tablets. . There 
is the common slate-pencil, which.leaves a white mark 
on slate, of which the cylindrical pieces of Dutch 
pencil are. the hardest : .there is the grayish-black 
kind, principally used by masons, carpenters, &c., to 
mark with, as it leaves a black' line when rubbed on 
paper or.wood.:-7-lastly, there is a. very fine and pure 
kind used by artists, for designs, ^which is called in 
France, "Pierre dltalie.*;. And in England,/* French 
chalk." ^ This often undergoes preparation before it 
passes into .the hands of the artist. 

Ivory Writing Tablets. ' A^nong the. materials which 
have been used instead of paper, as. a substance on 
which to write, ivory ^ may be shortly alluded to. 
Small memqrahdum or note books, in order to possess 
the required utility, shquld afford the n^eans of erasing 
any writing which may be. upon their surfaces, in 
order to make room. for- other memorandums. Several 
different materials have been, employed for this pur- 
pose, one of which is ivory. 

Ivory is the name given to the tusks of the elephant, 
and of the walrus, or . sea-horse. These tusks are 
hollow at their insertion into the jaw, and for a consi- 
derable space from it. The colour of the exterior varies 
according to circumstance?, but the interior is of a 
cream-white colour. The best elephants' tasks are 
brpught from Africa, being better than those obtained 
from Asia» as being of a closer texture^ and less likely 
to become yellow. But the hardest and whitest of 
all ivory, is that obtained from the tusks of the sea- 
horse. These tusks are short and very much curved; 
the thick end is hollow, as in the tusk of the elephant. 

The maiiufa.ctare of these tusks into articles of 
various kinds, is carried on in various places. In 
England, at Dieppe, in France, and in China and 
India, where the skill of the artists exceeds that of 
Europeans in the same branch of art. The preparation 
of ivory, for writing tablets, may be assimilated to 
that of the small tablets for miniature portraits, in 
water colours. The ivory is split into thin laminae, 
or leaves, which are afterwards smoothed and polished, 
and in this form it furnishes a beaatifol surface for 
either the pen or the pencil. 

We may include under this same liead various other 
contrivances fis furnishing materials on which to write. 
There are ''Asses* skin" memorandum books, "flexi- 
ble tablets," '' prepared tablets," &c. &c.,. which are 
familiar to all who visit stationers* shops. Instead of 
dwelling on the modes of manufacturing these several 
kinds of tables, we will briefly show the principle on 
which they act, for, however they may d^er in other 
respecU, they all act upon one principle. This prin- 
ciple is ntn-absorptioH, When we write on paper, 
why Ganoot w& ruh it o«t, eiUier by dry friction or 
mik the w^tfiag^? . Siasply bcoaxm the fibres of the 

paper have absorbed some of the ink into their very 
substance, from which it cannot again be extracted, 
except by scraping away the fibres themselves with a 
knife, or by the application of some strong agent 
which will act chemically on the ink. 

But if we can shield the fibres from the action of 
the ink, we prevent the absorption, and ink marks 
can be again eradicated. Varnish of almost every 
kind presents us with a surface through which black- 
lead pencil marks, and ink marks, will not penetrate ; 
so that almost every material which will receive a 
coating of varnish, may be made into a writing tablet. 
Sometimes the material employed is of a flexible 
nature, so as to yield in the convenient form of a 
book ; while in other cases the material is stiff and 
unyielding. We can write on a French -polished 
mahogany table with a pen, and a moistened cloth 
will remove the ink ; although, if we were to apply 
ink to the plain suriface of the mahogany, before it 
received its coating of polish, the ink would be ab- 
sorbed by the fibres, and a stain would- be perceived. 
We could, in like manner, write on the surface of an 
oil-painted door, or wall, and afterwards eradicate the 
marks. In both of these last- mentioned instances, a 
thin fibre protects the fibres of the wood from the ink, 
which they would otherwise absorb ; and' thus the 
power of eradicating the marks which might be left, 
is. afforded to us. . 

Btit generally speaking, writing tablets are not sub- 
jected to the severe test of receiving, and then parting 
with, the marks of ink flowing froni a pen : a black- 
lead -pencU being generally the marking material. 
This latter not being a fluid, its tendency to spread 
and to adhere is much smaller than that of ink, 
and it is therefore* much more readily removed by a 
moistened finger. 

. It will therefore easily be understood how asses* 
skin, or any other flexible membrane covered with a 
species of varnish, will, in the first place, receive an 
unpresaion from ^ black-lead pencil, and afterwards 
readily part with it by a little friction. It follows 
pretty, clearly from these remarks, that the aptness of 
any .particular sttbstance for serving as a writing tablet, 
depends not so much oa the material of which it con- 
sists^ as oa the texture of the surface, whether natural 
or artificial, which it presents. These general remarks 
will give a more correct notion of the nature of writing 
tablets than a particular description of all the novelties 
whioh from tim^ to time spring up in this form. They 
all agree in principle, and differ only in minor details. 

Gsirius, strictly speakine. is only entitled to respect when 
it promotes the peace, and improves the happiness and oom* 
fort of mankind. What should we think of the Gardener 
who planted his flower-bed with henbane and deadly night- 
shade? What should we think of the General, who being 
intrusted with an army, and a plentiful supply of miliuiy 
stores, applied these powers to degrading and enslaving his 
own country? He would be visited with soom, and punished 
as a traitor. And why should the man who directs the 
artillery of his genius, delegated to him for high and holy 
purposes, to shaking those foundations on which the happi- 
ness of his sp«cies rests, and who applies the divine spark 
within him to the kindhng of tow and debasing passions, 
be allowed to hear his plaudits swelled in proportion as his 
powers of doing mischief become apparent. Talent is always 
acoompanied with the responsibility of using it rightly; and 
the nefflect or pity of the virtuous is the penalty which the 
child or genius pays, or ought to pay, Ibr its abuse. 

However splMkUd talents may eompel oar admiratioB, they 
have no r^ht to ehdm the genml ostaem of mankind when 
their possessor exeicisss them without regard of what is due 
to the well-being of sooiety and himself. — Esses Lit. Goat. 


FviuniB IS WissLT MvaBSM, mas Cms Purmr, aiio nr HoifT8i.r Pakti. 

Pbssb Sixrswni, 

^ainrtra^H M^^^^im* 

■J? 432. 

30™, 1889. 



In the precoding details we bare not notiecd the ally to bs prottuding through her (kin. Whet tras the mat. 

ifiletence of temperature in different apringa, bnt terwith her? no one knew; what could cure her? no one 

bare ipoken of them mth referenee to their chemical »!»''' J"™ ' '" "''"!■ '■•■"■•d hj '•' »•• " ""d her .j». 

.' . . a _.■_ II J . ciee. iho wai, M tbe racDUr would term it, eiven aver. Ir. 

.DgredienUi «« mn.t bowercr, ihortly allnde to . fe^ „,k,7|,„„,„. ,i,',„ad,„|, re.p^.led .„,„„j ,1,, 

tbwe rpnnga. m which an derated tempeiatnre la i.^rd, with ribs covered with flesh, oje* like a deer, tkin 

the most diatingnishing feature. aleek ae a mole'a, breath sweetly unelling of milk, lalhw 

At Wiesbaden, the capital of Naaaati, ta a moat hanging in ringlets from her jaw. 
naisrkable spring, or rather assemblage of springs ^^ „,j„ ,,,1 „ ,jj ,, . ,j, „,„,, |„j 
Jc temperature of whieh is 140° at .11 aeuona of f„„„a the milk-warm spring, the watera of which had 
4e year, and which reUin their heat longer than any „„„^e„j t„. A young lady of the neighbour- 
i»kcr water of the aame temperature Dr. Granville ^^^_ ^^. -^ , a„lining condition, waa induced to 
nd Sir F. Head both compare the fuming water, of j,,^^ ,^,, .„,„. „, ,f,„ ,^, ^^i^,, „„„„a ^„ 
Wiesbaden to very hot chicken broth , and the ^, celebrity of the spring then followed, as a matter 
latter jocoaely adds. •■ I do ecrlainly wonder why the „, ^^^^ .f^, „„, ^, „„, ;„ ,,„„,„ ,„ 4i|f,„„, 
eonunin people should be at the inconvenience of ^, Emopc , wbcri it Is used as a cosmetic. It 
■taking bad soup, when they can get much better ^^ ,,,„ ,(,, reputation of tr.nquilliang the nervoa, 
torn nature a great atock-pot. i. e, the koch.hmnnen ,^j ,o„u,i„g inHammation. The salU conUlned In It 
(beiUag spring) of Wiesbaden. These " bi^thy ,„ „„,iate. and carbonates of hme, soda, and mag- 
waters are used both aa drink and as a bath. In the ^^^j,^ ,„,, , ,„ j, „^|.„ „, carbonic acid, which 
htter form they arc described as presenting to the ^^,j, ,^j cbonates in solution, 
bather a aurface of dirty-white thick froth, which la ^ j^,,.^, irotert,— ar« nearly all those which do not 
ij m means invilmg, but they have an invigorating f^^ „ ,^j „„ji ji.i.iju , they generally con- 
eieet oo the frame. These waUra are found to be j^,^ •„„,, „( ,^, foUowing salts, sulphates of lime. 
denimenUl in cases of mflammalion or fever, but of „ „,i,^ „a ,^,^ „i carbonatee and muriates of 
■Irantage in a great many disorders of the systein. ,^^ _^^^ ^^^^^ g^.^,, ^^^^^ ^^^ „ Ep,„„_ 

Amilk-warm spring rises at Schlangenbad, iii Naa- chclUnham, Dunblane. Seidlita, «tc. Cheltenham 

sui, which IS described by Sir F. Head, aa producing ^^^^^ contains in a wine pint 
a debshtftil sensation on the skin, when used aa a „ . . , , 

l«h.^Th. dUcover, of this spring, is said by the *"''''"" ""iUi;. l ; i I " «""* 

HBe amuting writer to have originated thus :^ " ijgjg ..'.,','. i-5 

OnMuponft tine, there «u a heirer, with whieh ever;- Hu rials of Boda 50 

fldof in nature seemed to diaagree. The more ihe ale, the 

Umer aha Rrew; Ihe more her mother licked her hide, gg-j 

lk*nuf>har, and the more atarincwBii lier roat Not a fly __ , i- < ■ l _ . c i- .1.. ■ 

• llieto.t.o..lJbit.ber,n..,'w.,.he«ienloehe.thi T" genenJ medieinal char^-lcr of sahne water « 

«ad;bot.bide-boundandmelancholy.herhipsseemedactu- that of being ptii^tive a.\wtt MiaMi toXav VV* wiwiMcv. 

Toi. XIV. «^ 



[March 30, 

Cheltenbam, Leamington, and Scarborough waters 
are all of an aperient nature, as are likewise those of 
Seidlitz in Germany. Many of these saline springs 
have an elevated temperature, and are frequently 
designated hot springs. The Matlock water has a tem- 
perature of about 66% and is valuable as a bath for per- 
sons of delicate constitution. The Bristol hot well 
has a temperature of 74°, and gushes forth at the 
rate of forty gallons per minute. The medicinal effect 
of the Matlock and Bristol waters is due more to 
their temperature than to their saline contents. The 
same may be said of the Buxton waters, which emerge 
from the ground, at a temperature of 82**. The Bath 
waters are considered to be beneficial both on account 
of their elevated temperature and of their saline ingre- 
dients. At Carlsbad (Charles's bath) in Bohemia, 
1 92 million cubic feet of water, at a temperature of 
64", spring from the ground in one day. 

Among mineral waters we may probably include 
sea* water. The proportion of saline matter existing in 
sea-water is subject to continual variation. In the 
Atlantic Ocean, within the tropics, the water contains 
one twenty- fourth of its weight of saline matters. 
From the great heat of those latitudes, evaporation 
from the surface must be extensive, while at the same 
time the influence of rivers in counteracting the salt- 
ness, by the addition of fresh water is scarcely apprepi- 
able. In colder climates, where evaporation is less, 
there is less salt in the winter. We subjoin two analyses 
of sea- water by Dr. Marcet and Dr. Murray, The for* 
mer physician found that in 500 grains of water from 
the Atlantic ocean there were :-" 

\ Pure water, • • • « • > 478*42 grains* 

Common salt, • t • 13*3 

Sulphate of soda, , • • . , t2'3S 
Muriate of lime, . . . , « 0*095 
N magnesia, .... 4*955 


Dr. Murray found a pint of sea- water to contain :— - 

Muriate of soda, 159*3 grains. 

„ magnesia, . . . 95*5 
„ lime, 5*7 

Sulphate of soda, • . • . 25*6 

Iodine and bromine have sometimes been detected 
in sea- water. Its specific gravity is generally 1*0277. 
The water of the Dead Sea contains as much as one- 
fourth of its weight of saline matters, and is of such 
a specific gravity (1*21 1) that a man may lie easily on 
its surface without sinking. 

Dr. Russell says that sea-water is beneficial in ob- 
structions of the glandular apparatus, in glandular 
swellings, in recent tumours of the joints, in diseases 
of the skin, and in obstructions of the liver and kid- 
neys. The frequent recommendation of sea-bathing 
indeed sufficiently indicates the value in which it is 

We may here state that many attempts have been 
made to convert sea- water into a state fit for drinking, 
by removing the salt, &c. Dr. Irving received 5000/. 
for a contrivance having this object in view. The 
water was put into a boiler, in the cover of which a 
pipe was fixed. A fire was applied to the boiler, and 
the outside of the tube was kept constantly wetted ; 
by which the steam that passed through it was con- 
densed into water. The salts contained in the water 
did not vaporize with it, and were therefore left 
behind. It was stated that the common fire and 
boiler of the ship might be used ; and moreover that 
the steam arising from boiled provisions might be col- 
lected and condensed in the same manner. This pro- 
posal was first put into practical application by Cap- 


tain Phipps (afterwards Lord Mulgrave) in his voyage 
to the North Pole in 1770. Sixty gallons of fresh 
water were procured from the boiler of the vessel du- 
ring the cooking of the ship's provisions. 

After a few remarks on the chemical effects of some 
springs, we shall briefly consider the results which 
sometimes follow from keeping watec la metallic 

Some springs contain a considerable quantity of 
siliceous earth in solution, but these are not common. 
The most noted are the boiling springs of the Geyser 
and Rykum in Iceland, and some hot springs in 
India. They contain soda, and this assists in rendering 
the siliceous earth soluble. 

Petrifying springs are those where the water pene- 
trates the pores of vegetable and animal substances 
placed in them, dissolves out and removes the particles 
of which they are composed, and substitutes earthy or 
stony particles, which are arranged in the same way 
as those of the former substances, and preserve their 
general form. There are many waters of this kind. 

The rivers Danube and Pregal, in the course of 
ages convert in this manner into petrifactions stakes 
of wood placed in them. There are alio incrustiog 
springs, which deposit th^ earthy particles they con- 
tain in the form of a crust around any substances 
placed in them. Those earthy particles are carbonate 
of lime, held in solution by carbonic acid, which leaves . 
the water when it becomes exposed to the air, and 
then the carbonate of lime is precipitated. 

Our readers mity perhaps call to mind many 
instances of poisoning by ipeana of lead, recorded ixx 
the newspapers. The action of this metal upon th^ 
human frame is highly injurious, and since water is 
conveyed in leaden pipes, and stored occasionally I v^ 
leaden reservoirs or cisterns, it is important to inqniir^ 
whether water exerts any action upon lead so as t^ 
dissolve it, and in this way to get it introduced int-^ 
our food. 

This inquiry we may answer with a decided nega- 
tive. Pure water exerts no action upon metallic 
lead^ but there are certain gases which water nearly 
always holds in solution, which do attack lead, aimo 
the result of such action is a compound which is sota- 
ble in water. So that although water does not, in * 
direct manner dissolve lead, yet it does so indirectly* 
because all water employed for domestic use (except 
distilled water confined in close vessels), contains tb^ 
gases to which we have alluded ; viz., oxygen and car- 
bonic acid. The oxygen to which we here allude, is 
not that which forms one of the constituents of water, 
but it is that which enters into the composition oi 
atmospheric air, which water dissolves and holds i** 
solution. That these gases are not chemically com- 
bined with the water, may be proved by placing • 
glass vessel of water under the receiver of an ut"^ 
pump ; on removing the pressure, the dissolved gas^ 
will be set free, and, forming myriads of bubble^* 
give a curious appearance to the water. 

The Chemist, when he wishes to know whether • 
liquid possesses any acid properties, is not satisfi^ 
with the fact that it tastes 9our. It is not necessary 
that he should appeal to his sense of taste (and i*^ 
many cases it would be highly dangerous were he *^ 
do so) 3 and moreover, the senses are at best but fi^*' 
lacious guides, since a slight, though decidedly ac»^ 
taste to one person, may be quite inappreciable '^f^ 
another. The chemist has a test by which he *^ 
enabl ;d to distinguish acids with precision, in con^^' 
quence of a property possessed by all acids, (excepl^ • 
very few of rare occurrence,) of converting vegetate* 
blue colours into red. A slip of paper is commoa^ 
adopted^ stained by a vegetable substance call^ 

183 9 J 



litmui. When this paper is dipped into a solution 
containing free acid, (that is, acid not in chemical 
combination with another body,) the blue litmus 
paper is chauged into red. Another property of acids 
is that of combining with alkalies, and in some cases 
forming neutral salts, or salts in which the acid and 
alkaline constituents are so nicely balanced, as to 
neutralize each other. But there is another property 
of acids which will bring us back to our subject. Acids 
dissolve the oxides of metals, but never the metals 
themselves. Thus : — green, white, and blue vitriol, 
are chemically called sulphates of iron, zinc, and 
copper; but in strictness, they are sulphates of the 
oxides of these metals : that is, iron united to oxygen, 
forms oxide of iron, and this is soluble in sulphuric 
acid, whereas pure iron is not. 

Kow in order to get a compound of lead which 
shall be soluble itf water, the metal must first be oxi- 
dized ; and atmospheric air (of which oxygen is a con- 
stituent part) is present in river and spring waters. 
This gas combines with lead, and forms oxide of lead, 
and the carbonic acid also present in the water, dis- 
solves this oxide when it is formed ; and the result- 
ing compound is carbonate of lead, or white lead. 

It is fortunate, perhaps, that carbonate of lead is 
but sparingly soluble in water, since it is so highly 
pernicious to animals. Indeed, the quantity dissolved 
is 80 exceedingly small, that very delicate tests are 
uec&isary to detect it. Water may be protected from 
adulteration by lead by dissolving in it so small a quan- 
tity as 79V9 o^ ^^ weight of sulphate of soda (glauber 
salt), or a^«s of phoi^phate of soda, or hydriodate of 
potash. When either of these substances is present 
in water contained in leaden vessels, the lead is at first 
covered with a very thin film of carbonate of lead, in 
tho «ame way as if no protecting substance were pre* 
Bent in the water. But a chefhical action goes on 
between the carbonate of lead and the protecting sub- 
itauce, and the result is a decomposition of the car- 
bonate of lead, and tho formation of another sub- 
•tance entirely insoluble in water. The latter substance 
occupies the place of the film of carbonate of lead, 
tnd remains firmly attached to the surface of the 
Itadea cistern ; thus preventing all further action of 
oxygen on the metallic lead, and consequently, the 
ear^Dic acid has no oxide of lead to dissolve. Many 
river and spring waters contain salts which protect 
tbe water from lead, and such waters may be safely 
collected in leaden cisterns.* 

When cisterns arc constructed of iron or zinc, 
oxides of those metals are formed, and dissolved by 
carbonic acid. A case of this nature came under the 
Notice of the writer some time since. 

At an inn, a few miles from the residence of the 
writer, a well, some years ago, had been dug through 
the chalk which forms the upper stratum of the soil 
for many miles round. From this well, the inn had 
been supplied with water drawn up by hand, until a 
Rcent period, when this primitive and laborious plan 
Was superseded, and a pump constructed, the pump- 
box and pipes of which were of cast iron. A few 
weeks after the pump had been in use, the water 
was found to be discoloured by boiling, red flakes and 
* general muddiness were very apparent, and the water 
presented so unpleasant an appearance and taste, 
*« to cause general complaint. The innkeeper natu- 
rally attributed this defect to the pump, and refused 
to pay for it. A dispute arising, it was determined 
tbat the water should be analyzed, in order to ascer- 
tain whether the pump affected the water, or the 
Water affected the pump. If the latter were the case, it 
it dear that no blame could attach to the pump- 
Wer/sinoe the fault was not in his instrumeot, but 

in the corrosive nature of the water. A bottle of the 
water was sent to the writer for analysis j who found 
it to contain free carbonic acid gas, atmospheric air, 
and carbonate and sulphate of lime. The traces of iron 
were very marked, and this explained the discolora- 
tion of the water. The free oxygen in the water con- 
verted the surface of the iron into an oxide, which the 
carbonic acid dissolved, forming carbonate of oxide of 
iron ; and water containing it, being boiled constantly 
in the same kettle, the iron was precipitated in the state 
of oxide, still, however, retaining a portion of its acid. 
This collecting at the bottom and sides of the kettle, 
was stirred up by the agitation produced by boiling. 
Carbonate of iron' is, however, harmless when taken 
into the stomach j whereas, had the pump been formed 
of lead, a carbonate of that metal would have been 
formed, which we have already said to be poisonous. 


An infant boy was playing among flowers; 

Old Time, that unbribed register of hours, 

Como hobbling on, but smoothed liis >vriuklcd face, 

To mark the artless joy and blooming grace 

Of tlie young chemb, on whoso cheek so fau* 

Time smiled, and pressed a rosy dimple there. 

Next lioyhood followed with his shout of glee> 

lilabtic step, and spirit wild and free 

As the young fawn, tljat scales the mountain height. 

Or new-fledged eaglet in his sunward flight ; 

Time cast a glance ui)on the careless boy, 

Who frolicked onward with a bound of joy ! 

Then Youth came forward, his bright glanchig eye 

deemed a reflection of the cloudless sky ! 

The dawn of passion in its j)urc8t glow, 

Crimsoned his cheek, and beamed ui)on his brow. 

Giving expression to liis blooming face, 

And to his fragile form a uiuuly grace ; 

His voice was harmony, his speech was truth— 

Time lightly laid his hand upon the youth. 

Manhood next followed, in the sunny prime 

Of life's meridian bloom; all the sublime 

And beautiful of nature met his view, 

]3i*ighteued by Hope, whose radiant pencil drew 

The rich pei-spoctivc of a sceno as fair 

As that which smiled on EdenV sinless pair ! 

Lore, tame, and gloiy, with alternate sway. 

Thrilled his warm ht»art, and with electric ray 

Illumed his eye, yet still a shade of care. 

Like a light cloud that floats in summer air. 

Would shed at times a transitory gloom, 

But shadowed not one grace of manly bloom. 

Tim e sighed, ua on his polished brow he wrought 

The first improbsive line of care and thought. 

l^Ian in his proud maturity came next ; 

A bold review of life, from the broad text 

Of Nature's ample volume ! He had scanned 

Her varied page, and a high course bad planned ; 

Hmnbled ambition, wealth's deceitful smile, 

The loss of friends, disease, and mental toil, 

Had blanched liis cheek, and dimmed his ardent eye. 

But spared his noble spirit's energy 1 

God's proudest stamp of intellectual grace 

Still shone unclouded on his care-worn face ! 

On liis high brow still sate the firm resolve 

Of judgment deep, whose issue might mvolv© 

A nation's fate. Yet thoughts of milder glow 

Would oft, like sunbeams o'er a mound of snow, 

Upon liis cheek their genial influence cast, 

While musing o'er the bright or shadowy past : 

Time, as he marked his noblest victim, shod 

The frost of years upon his honoured head. 

Last came, with trembUng limbs and bendmg fonm 

Like the old oak scathed by the wintry storm, 

Man in the last frail stage of human life ; 

lleason's proud triumph, passion's wild control, 

No more dispute their mastery o'er his soul ! 

As rest the billows on the sea-beat shore, 

Tho war of rivalry is heard no more ; 

Faith's steady light illumes his eye, ^r v -«i 

For Time is pointing tg Hx e.^>.yih \ >^ «^^ 



[March 30^ 


No. IX. 

Tbk Leydkn Jas. 

Am arrBDgement of the Leyden Jar, more convenient, 

and, u we think, more effective, thao that geae- 

rally adopted, is represented in the annexed figure. 

A glass vessel a, of any required size, is coated both 
inside and outside with tin-foil, to the height be. d 
is a atout brass rod (or tube), supported in the centre of 
the jar, by one end being secured into a piece of wood, 
vhich is hollowed out so aa to fit the bottom of the 
jar, and to which it must be firmly secured with glue 
or cemetat. l^e other end of this rod terminates 
about sii inches above the top edge of the jar, 
in a ball, either of brass or baked wood ; the latter 
being most preferable. A smaller rod e, the length 
of which, as well as of a similar one p, must be 
determined by the length of the jar, is screwed into d, 
about an inch and a half below the ball. A stand r 
is provided, consisting of a piece of mahogany, or 
other hard wood about 1^ inch thick ; and to facili- 
tate the discharge of electricity from the jar, that part 
of the wood on which it is placed, is coated with foil. 
The wire g is screwed into the stand p, and is brou^t 
into metallic contact with the outside coating of the 
jar, by means of a slip of tin-foil, pasted npon the 
wood at h. To insure perfect contact between the 
inside coating and the rod rf, the piece of wood, by 
which the latter is supported, should also have some 
slips of foil pasted on it ; or, if that cannot conve- 
niently be done, the object may be effected by a piece 
of brass chain. The eiitremities e and g terminate in 
brass balls. 

For delicate experiments, it is sometimes necessary 
to insulate the jar. In that case a stand with glass 
legs must be provided. 

Stands of a circular form, and with raised mould- 
ings, fitting close to the bottom of jars, are better 
than any other ; but they are the most expensive. 

For coating jars with tin-foil, we find nothing makes 
it adhere better than thin paste ; a very small quantity 
of which is sufficient for the purpose. 

Fitted np in the manner just described, the Leyden 
Jar is ready for use, and more easily managed than 
in any other form. Its size should correspond with 
that of the Electrical machine with which it is to be 
associated ; a knowledge of which is soon acquired 
by practice. With a powerful machine, (an eigbleea 
or twenty-four inch plate for instance,) one jar con- 
taining .350 to 400 square inches of coating (on each 
aide) is sufficient to illustrate an extensive aeries of 
electrical phenomena. 

But before we begin to experiment with the Leydoi 
jar we must provide a jointed dUckarger, which 
consists of two slightly -curved brass wires b, 
terminating in balls of the same metal, about 
three fourths of an inch in diameter, and 
moving on a joint which is cemented to a glass 
bandl . The action of this instrument is 
similar to that of a pair of callipers, and is 
therefore, applicable to jars of any size. It is 
used for effecting a communication between 
the inside and outside coatings of jars ; ena- M 
bling the operator to discharge the whole of | 
the accumulated electricity at any moment, H 
and without fear that it will pass throngb his 8 

Another article of apparatus, equally osehil ai that 
just described, is called the Vniveraal DUckargtr. 
When cheapness is studied, it may be made entirdj 
of well-dried wood, which, with proper care, will 
answer the purpose quite as well as more costly mate- 
rials. Its usual form and mode of construction it, 
however, as follows, a B is a piece of mahogany, aay 

about 16 inches long by 6 wide, and one Inch thick, 
into which two glass pillars, c d, are securely fixed by 
screws; a plan we recommend whenever it can be 
adopted, as it adds greatly to the portability, and, ia 
packing, to the security of apparatus. On the top of 
each of these insulating pillars is a brass cap, to whidi 
is connected, by means of a ball-and-socket joint, or 
some other contrivance affording both a vertical tad 
horizontal motion, a piece of spring tubing, throngb 
which passes a brass rod (eandy^ terminating at one 
end in a glass handle, and at the other in a brass ball, 
or point, or a pair of forceps, as circumstances majr re- 
quire. 7 A arc small brass hooks or balls, by whidi 
the opposite sides of a Leyden jar are made to com- 
municate with the rods tf. i is a small mahogany 
teble, about four inches in diameter, which is adjusted 
at any required height, by means of a screw k. A 
small screw-press is sometimes used instead of the 

By the combined arrangements of this apparatoi, 
a chai^ of electricity is made to pass through any 
particular substance which is submitted to its actum 
by being placed on the teble, or fixed in any other way 
most convenient, between the extremities of the, 
rods ef. 

Returning now to the Leyden jar, we may con- 
nence with the following illustration of ite principle. 
Let its inside coating be made to communicate with 
the (positive) conductor, and which may be effected by 
placing in contact with it the ball at e (see the fig. 
above) ; or, if that cannot conveniently be done, they 
must be connected by a chain. On turning the 
machine, (and two or three revolutions are sufficient.) 
the positive electricity excited by it is conveyed to 
the interior surface of the jar, where it equally diffuses 
itself over those parts of the glass covered with tin- 
foil. Now let the operator with one band touch the 
ball at g, which in the manner alreadjr deacribed 



mmnnicates with the ontude of the jar, and with 
e other haud the ball at e, and at the iostaat of 
miDg in contact with the latter he will experieoce 
painful sensation in the wrists, elbows, and chest, 
lis is termed an electric tiock; and although by its 
ddenaess it creates momentary snrprise, and is to 
Mt persons nnwelcome, yet its effects, generally 
eaking, are very traDsient. The, shock thus given 
the human body is occasioned by making the arms 
d those parts of the body interposed between them 
i medium of commuuication in effecting an electri- 
. discharge; the electricity accumulated within the 

making its escape by that course to the outside, 
i the electrical equilibrium of the jar being thereby 
tantly restored. 

Under the circumstances just mentioned, let it be 
oerobered that the jar must communicate with the 
-th, that is, it must not be insulated. This is a 
edition to which we have already alluded ; but so 
portant is it in the management of I.eyden jars 
It for a moment we recur to it again. 
It must never be overlooked by the electrical stu- 
nt that in all his manipulations he has two oppo- 
se kinds (or states) of electricity to deal with, and 
wcial provision must always be made for that which 
ments itself, as it were, unbidden, as well aa for 
nt to the production of which his exertions are more 
nmediately directed. 

Fur example : a common (plate) electrical machine 
ud in the usual manner, is said to communicate 
lith the earth ; because, the table being in contact 
fith the floor, the floor with the walls, and the latter 
ritb the earth, there is no difficulty in obUining a 
apply of electricity from that inaxbaustible atore- 
lovse. But let us suppose the same machine to be 
unlated, that is, cut off from electrical contact with 
be earth, by means of a stand or table supported on 
:1m legs, and we then find it impossible to obtain 
nu it any great quantity of electricity ; for the 
nbbers being soon exhausted, the action of the 
Diehiae, at first very feeble, eventually ceases. On 
VDoecting the machine by a chain, or other good 
Mdactor, with the floor or wall of the building, a 
npply of electricity will however be immediately ob- 

Precisely the same conditions as are here indicated, 
»tin he observed when, for any particular purpose, 
"< wish to accnmnlate and to retain electricity in 
'Mlies I aa in « Leyden jar for instance. We will 
n^ote a jar to be in a perfectly neutral state ; that 
% Id contain a certain portion of electricity which it 
^ in common with other surrounding objects, re- 
ared from the earth or the atmosphere. We wish 
Ikii jar to become the depository of a quantity of 
ilKlncity, much greater than that which it ordinarily 
ttiCahia ; and to effect our object, we place the coat- 
ag on its inner surface fn metallic contact with the 
wctriea] machine j and then, if the coating on the 
nuide of the jar be in commnnication with the earth, 
^ working the machine the jar will receive the accu- 
BDlated charge ; but if the outside of the jar do not 
namttnicate with the earth, no electricity will pass 
^"m the machine to the inside. 

Hence therefore we conclade, that if the terms poti- 
mand megatioe denote two distinct kinds of electricity, 
kat kind, whichever it may happen to he, rendered 
ttire by the agency of a machine, can he accumu- 
Mcd and retained in no other way tiian by the simul- 
Beous Bccamolatiim and retention of a similar 
■aality of the opposite kind ; the latter presenting 
idf witbont any effort on the part of the operator, 
r if fontive and neyvtive be supposed to imply dis- 
ict and o^orit* «Mm of electiical exdlvtion, ths 

former answering to its excess, and the latter to its 
deficiency, then is it manifest that one side of the 
Leyden jar can be made to receive more than its ordi- 
nary share only when means are provided for tha 
simultaneous escape of a similar quantity from the 
other side, which will consequently contain len than 
it did before its electrical equihbrium was disturbed. 

The following experiment will illustrate what we 
have been saying, and, as we hope, render intelligible 
a subject which, to beginners, is generally difficult and 
perplexing, b and c are 
Leyden jars, as nearly 
as possible of the same 
size, and similarly fitted 
up. a is an insuluttitg 
stand, to the top of 
which one of the jars, i, 
is attached. The other 
jar is not connected with 
the stand, and, in the 
experiment we are going ' 
to describe, it must be 
placed on the table. 

If the knob of the 
mounted jar be brought 
near the conductor, as 
represented in the fi- 
gure, and that of the 
other placed at the same 
distance, say, about half 
an inch, from the end 
of the projecting brass 

rod, which is in metallic contact with the outside 
coating of the jar b ; on working the machine it will 
be seen that whenever a spark passes from the con- 
ductor to the inside of 6, at the very same instant a 
similar spark appears to leave the outside of b, and 
pass to the inside of c; and after a few turns of the 
machine, both jars will be equally charged. Having 
by means of the discharging rod (see page 116) re- 
stored the electrical equilibrium of both jars, and 
which we recommend should always be done, as the 
sorest protective against accidental shocks, before 
any other experiment is attempted, let the jar b be 
restored to its former position near the conductor ; 
when, on turning the machine, it will be found that 
no sparks will pass from the conductor ts the jar, and 
on examining the latter, it will be manifest that no 
charge has been communicated to it. Let everything 
remain as just described, excepting that the projecting 
rod be made t» communicate with the earth, and 
which may be done by attaching to it a piece of chaiu, 
or by touching it with the hand. In this case the 
jar b will receive a charge as promptly as if it were 
standing on the table. 

It is a wise, a lalutary, and a laudable Droviiion of the 
church's discipline, that she sets apart, ana consecrates, by 
solemn religioui rites to God'i glory, the places which she 
intends for his worship; and by outward sigos of decency 
snd rovecence, of majesty and holiness, impresiei them 
with an appropriate character, which, whilst it redounds to 
the honour of God, operates also with no mean or triviil in- 
fluence on the minds of His people. Connected with this 
character, and in some degree generated by it, together with 
an awful veneration for the great Proprietor, a certain secret 
sense of serene and holy pleasuro is diffused over the pioui 
and meditative mind, as soon as the feet cross the threshold 
which separates the house of God from common places. We 
feel with delight that we are on "holy ground ;" and a siitl 
small Toico within, m we draw near to "worship God in the 
beauty of holiness," answers in the word* of the Apostle 
at the sinht of the " excellent glory," "U v* ^wAVwa^M* 
be here." — Biiboe VUki. 



PI^ARCH 30, 


The people of the United States of America have but 
one day in the whole year which they celebrate aa a ho- 
liday or festival : the day on which, to u»e an expres- 
sion of their own, they " keep Independence." Thia 
national festival is annually Celebrated on the 4th of 
July, since it was upon that day, in the year \776, 
that their famous Declaration of Independence was 
signed, sealed, and executed, by fifty-five of the peo- 
ple's representatives, from the thirteen revolted pro- 
vinces, that afterwards formed the confederated 
republic of the United States. Without canvassing 
the merits of the American revolution. It will readily 
be conceded that these said " signers " were bold and 
intrepid men ; who, by thus promulgating this trea- 
sonable document, were fearlessly braving the ven- 
geance of their rightful sovereign^ the king of Great 

It must not be taken for granted that this festival 
is celebrated in the old-fashioned forms of kingly 
governments, or of those ancient countries whose 
inhabitants conceive the superlative of all enjoyment 
to consist in " feasting and fiddling," and in getting 
"royally" intoxicated with wine or strong drink. 
No such thing ! Our modern brethren of the United 
States reckon upon making their' s, "The feast of 
reason and the flow of soul :" whether they invariably 
succeed or not is another matter. 

The celebration of the 4th of July may be said to 
be truly national, since it is neither confined to the 
metropolis of the union, to the capital cities of the 
several states, nor to the whole of the larger towns 
and cities, for every county throughout their vast 
extent of territory, celebrates " Independence " in iU 
little county town ; while there is scarcely a town- 
ship (even in the most out-of-the-way settlement) 
that does not get up a celebration on the annual 
return of Indkfendxnck Day. In large towns or 
cities, public functionaries commonly occupy promi- 
nent situations in the processions and pageants ; for 
to them, as a matter of course, belong the arrange- 
ments of the chief business of the festival, and hence 
we find them self-appointed to the principal offices of 
honour and dignity. 

There are two things particularly patronized at 
these celebrations, namely, " soldiering" and "speechi- 
fying." The former for the most part consists in pa- 
rading awkward companies of raw militia, and oddly- 
accoutred parties of volunteers. Orations^ equally 
marvellous and "lengthy," are listened to with a 
becoming reverence and composure, for it would be 
considered extremely indecorous in the audience to 
express any audible signs of pleasure or approbation} 
— dissatisfaction, as a matter of course, being out of 
the question. It certainly does appear — when we 
look back to " the days that tried men*s souls" — that 
both these modes, that is " soldiering" and " speech- 
ifying," are equally appropriate on these celebrations 
of Independence ; since the soldiers and the legislators 
(public orators) of 76 both materially contributed, 
in their respective capacities, towards that indepen- 
dence which the people now celebrate as a great na- 
tional festival. 

Those who muster on these occasions under the 
title of soldiers, (no matter how inapplicable the term 
may be,) give proofs of their patriotism in the profuse 
waste of gunpowder ; for in addition to rifles, mus- 
kets, and rusty fowling pieces, everything bearing the 
faintest resemblance to a cannon, mortar, or swivel, 
is pressed into the service of the young republicans ; 
to proclaim, in voices of thunder, that Independence 
Zfay has again returned. Where nothing resembling 

'* big guns" can be had, the store-keepers are applied 
to for the loan of their 56 lbs. weights ; the cavities 
of which are filled with gun-powder. These weights, 
however, are rather sorry substitutes for long thirty- 
sixes, or ten-inch mortars ; for the hollow spaces 
within the said weights are both short and narrow; 
and, to crown the difficulty, they happen to be desti- 
tute of touch-holes. To persons of moderate capaci- 
ties this Would seem an insurmountable obstacle,— 
whereas with an ingenious Yankee it can hcurdly be 
called a difficulty. To witness them loading aud 
priming, for they load first and prime afterwards, 
one would think they had studied the art of miniug 
and blowing up of rocks -, for upon the identical pita 
of charging and discharging a hole perforated in a 
solid rock, do they manage their 56 lbs. weights. 
The recoil, however, is sometimes, as they term it, 
considerable ; for if they happen to plug up the cavity 
a little too tightly, so that it becomes a doubtfol 
matter in which direction the force of the explosion 
shall escape, even should the struggle terminate ia 
favour of the artificial stoppage giving way, as was 
intended, the square or conical 56 lbs. weight is sure 
to recoil in an opposite direction, to a distance quite 
indefinite, (as if exulting in the principle of universal 
freedom,) and not uufrequently penetrates the slight 
wooden frame- work of some startled citizen's dwel- 
ling. Fingers, and arms, and legs, and even lives, 
are commonly sacrificed in the ardour of this species 
of celebrating independence. 

In every assembly, on occasions of this nature, 
whether in city, town, village, or thinly-inhabited 
township, an " orator of the day " is appointed, (at 
some previous meeting.) to hold forth to the assem- 
bled cititizcus. These orators, as already stated, are 
appointed at some previous meeting ; since it would 
be absurd to expect that a three or four hours* ora- 
tion, befitting so distinguished an occasion, should be 
prepared on the instant ; and particularly when they 
have to be manufactured by persons who are not first 
rate performers in this sort of speech- work. A month 
or two is usually allowed for preparation ; so that • 
person of ordinary acquirements may manage to 
cobble out a speech, (making sundry extracts froin 
old printed " Independence Orations,") which be 
never attempts at delivering extempore, but reads it 
from some wagon or popular rostrum, in the best 
manner he is capable. 

The people ustiully assemble in the oipen air, or ifl 
rude arbours formed of the branches of forest trees' 
When the meeting has been duly organized, some 
one, previously appointed, opens the business of the 
day with a long prayer, which very often appean 
notoriously out of place. In rural districts "thi 
ladies" join in these celebrations > when cider i> 
plentifully supplied by some calculating farmer at » 
half-penny per glass ; while those who can afford i*. 
and feel disposed to spend their three-pence, are afr 
commodated with a weak infusion of hyson-skin: 
and this they call celebrating their independence ia * 
patriotic and national manner. 

Tus Passover was observed on the fourteenth day of tbi 
month Nisan ; on the fifteenth day of tlie same month com- 
menced the feast of unleavened bread ; and on the six* 
teenth day, that is, "the morrow after the sabbath," d* | 
Jews offered up to God the Omer, or the sheafii of M ^ 
fruits of the barley harveat, which was cut and carried isi* 1 
the temple with much ceremony. St PauU in apeakios * ' 
Christ's becoming the first fruits of them that blept, pio* 
bably beautifully alludes to this observance, which was cdi' 
brated on ** tho morrow aAer the sabbath/* literally, Ei^kMT ■ 
day. — Notes to Bible Narrative, 




No. XII. On the Elasticity op Air. 

The elasticity of the air is one of its most prominent 
features. A cushion filled with air yields to the 
weis:ht of the person sitting upon it, but recovers 
its form when the weight is removed. A bladder 
partly filled with air, and exposed to the befit of a 
fire, will swell out until it bursts. In a boy's pop- 
gun the air is compressed between two pellets of 
tow, until such an ela$tic force is obtained as to 
overcome the friction of the pellet at the end of the 
tube: the air, ia being released, expands with 
great force, and thus imparts rapid motion to the 
pellet. The game of foot-ball derives all its interest 
from the elasticity gf the air enclosed within a horse's 
bladder. The air-gun is perhaps only an improved 
pop-gun : the air is strongly compressed in a reservoir, 
and being suddenly liberated, it projects a bullet with 
great force. The pea-shooter may perhaps be cited 
as another instance : the air suddenly blown into the 
tube imparts a great velocity to the pea. If two pins 
be thrust at right angles, thus +, through a green 
pea or a pith ball, it can be supported in the air, 
apparently upon nothing, by blowing through ^ 
piece of tobacco-pipe held in th^ mouth in a ver- 
tical position, and placing the pea a little above the 
upper end of the pipe. The pea is supported by 
the current of air propelled through the tube : the 
points of the pins should be covered with sealing-wax, 
to prevent any accident. Indeed with a little address 
the pins may be dispensed with altogether, their only 
object being to give stability to the pea, and to retain 
it within certain limits of the end of the tube. 

But we must put away our tpys, and enjoy a little 
sober philosophy. Air is perfectly elfistjc : let us in- 
quire why it is so. This will lead us to a very beau- 
tiful and simple law, which regulates the elasticity of 
aeriform bodies. 

All substances which exist upon, in, or about the 
earth, are included in the general comprehensive term 
matter. Matter exists in three states, via., the solid 
state, the liquid state, and the gaseous or aeriform 
state. Matter is supposed to consist of little round 
bodies called atoms, which are so extremely small that 
no philosopher has ventured even to guess at their 
size*. A celebrated microscopic observer tells us that 
he has found animalculse so small that he could tal^e 
up a million of them on the point of a needle j but it 
is more than probable that an atom of matter is a 
great deal smaller than one of these million of in- 
sects. However, we will not talk further about the 
ftize of an atom, since we can arrive at no just idea 
of it. When these atoms are firmly held together, 
so as to require great force to separalie them, we get 
a solid : when they are less firmly united, so that by 
a very slight disturbance we can displace them, we 
get a liquid. This force of attraction, which unites 
the atoms of solids and liquids, is called the attraoiion 
of cohesion, which has already occupied our attention 
in this course. Sec Saturday Magagine, No. 392. 
Now this cohesion is altogether absent in airs. If, 
for example, we put a lump of ice into a small copper 
boiler, and fasten down the lid, so that nothing can 
get ID or out except heat, (for that gets everywhere, 
and we cannot confine it,) and then put this boiler on 
the lire, the solid ice will soon become water. • Now 
in the ice the attraction of cohesion is much stronger 
than in the water, and by continuing the heat we 
shall destroy the cohesion (Utogether -, the water will 

* Dr. Thomson has shown by e^ipenment and calculs^tion that %n 
aforu of lead does not weigh more than one 310,000,000.000th of a 
S ain. and an atom of sulphur not more than one 201S.OOO,000,OOOth 
of a grain. 

become steam, the particles of which not only have 
no attraction for each other, but they actually repel 
each other; and the n)ore so in proportion to the 
amount of heat contained among them. This repul- 
sion soon becomes so great as to burst the boiler, 
with a tremendous explosion. Hence the use of 
safety-valves, the nature and use of which we will 
consider more particularly in another article. 

Now this repulsion among the atoms of aeriform 
bodies gives us the reason why they are so minutely 
and so perfectly elastic. They are always seeking to 
fly off from each other, so much so that if we were 
to let a quart of air into an exhausted f vessel, capable 
of holding a million quarts^ this vessel would not only 
be filled, out the air would press in all directions upon 
its internal surfaces in their attempt to extend them- 
selves further. Nay, this struggle is constantly 
going on in every vessel which is fuU of air, such as 
we are in the habit of calling empty. In every vessel 
containing air there is a contest between the enclosed 
and the external air. The latter seeks to get into the 
vessel, and the former opposes the entrance ; and were 
it not for this contest many a close vessel full of air 
would burst, in consequence of the particles or atoms 
of the enclosed air seeking to extend their limits. 
But this catastrophe does not occur in consequence 
of the external air exerting a pressure in all directions 
of fourteen and a half pounds upon every square inch 
of surface ; but if a thin square glass vessel be firmly 
and accurately closed, and placed under the receiver 
of ap air-pump, it will burst when the pressure of the 
external air is removed. When the external air is 
present it does not burst, because the enclosed air is 
as dense as that without, and therefore exerts as great a 
pressure in all directions, and these two pressures, the 
internal and the external, being equal, no effect ensues. 

It may probably be asked why the air, exerting, 
as it does, so gr^at a repulsive force aipong its own 
particles, does not fiy off into space, where we may 
suppose each atom would have room enough to be 
solitary, without 9ny intrusion on the part of its com- 
panion atoms, The reason is, that all the atoms of air 
being subject to the attraction of gravitation, which 
confines them within certain limits of our earth, that 
attraction is so ipiich stronger than the repulsion 
among the serial particles. The nearer the air is 
to the surface of the earth, the more is it sul\ject to 
gravity ; and, besides this, the lower strata of air have 
to bear up against this attraction for the upper 
strata, and accordingly we find that the air at the sur*' 
face of the earth is more dense than at the tops of 
high mountains, and consequently it exerts a less 
pressure in the latter than in the former case. 

The beauty of this admirable contrivance is well 
calculated to awaken within us a lively sense of the 
wisdom of the great Creator, nof only on account of 
the Divine skill to contrive, to es^ecut^, and to pre- 
serve the stability of His works, when contrived and 
executed, but also in allowing us, by the study and 
contemplation thereof, to understand them ; 

To grow familiar, day by day. 
With His conceptions; act upon His pl^j 
And forvBL to His the relish of our souls. 

The perfect elasticity of airs has enabled philoso« 
phers to arrive at a very beautiful and simple law, 
viz., that a volume or bulk of any gas depends upon 
the pressure which it supports, and that, at the same 
temperature, all gases occupy the same volume under 
the same pressure. But this law is so very impor- 
tant that we must devote a whole article to its demon- 

t A vessel js said to he exhausted when it is dennved of Wt A 
I vacuum or empty space then exists within the rcsselt 



[March 30, 1839* 


No. XI. 

Pen-knives. — ^The extraordinary demand for steel 
pens within the last few years, in which the aid of a 
pen-knife is not called for, would have induced us to 
think that the use of quill pens must have greatly 
diminished, and that pen-knives must likewise have 
become much less in request. But such does not ap- 
pear to be the case. We rejoice to find that both quill 
pens and steel pens are manifesting their utility by 
increasing in their supply. Long may this continue, 
and long may the pen be the pioneer for preparing the 
way for improvements in the ages that are to come. 

The manufacture of the pen-knife is but one among 
a vast variety of processes which constitute cutlery. 
We may probably hereafter enter somewhat fully' upon 
the iron manufacture generally, and will therefore, at 
present, give merely the outlines of the processes 
necessary for the manufacture of a pen- knife. 

Sheffield is the great workshop which supplies 
almost all the world with knives. The hammering of 
the steel bar which is to form the blade, is carried on 
in the smithy, A boy is employed to keep several 
bars of steel heated, or beibg heated at one time -, and 
he hands them to the striker or hammer- m an j one at a 
time, so that he is kept constantly at work. A pen- 
knife-blade is formed by two heatings. In the first 
place, that part which we call the blkde is fashioned by 
hammering, and then chopped off the end of the^ rod. 
It is then again heated in the forge, taken' up by a 
pair of tongs/ and the part which is called the tang is 
formed ; this tang is the part by which the workman 
holds it while grinding the blade, and which is ulti- 
mately inserted in the handled The whole is then 
smithed, or smartly hammered after it has ceased to 
be soft, in order to close the pores, and produce the 
greatest possible degree of density. The nail- mark— • 
used when '' opening" the pen-knife — and the maker's 
name, &c., having been struck upon it, it is ready for 
hardening. The steel springs for the back, and the 
iron casings for the inner sides of the handle, are 
made by workmen ranking a degree lower than the 
blade makers. 

When the blade is properly hammered, it is next 
hardened and tempered, — processes which, though 
extremely simple in themselves, require the nicest tact 
and judgment, as upon them the excellence of the 
future knife greatly depends. Steel is commonly har- 
dened by being plunged, while red-hot, into cold 
water, and afterwards tempered by being heated until 
the surface assumes a particul^ tinge, varying from a 
light straw colour to a deep blue, according to the 
nature of the instrument which is being made. 

After the blade has been hardened, it is, in most 
cases, carried directly to the grinding mill, or wheel, 
for the purpose of being ground. Before the exten- 
sive introduction of steam power, the grinding wheels 
were turned by water ; but now steam has usurped 
the place of water, in this as in many other instances. 
The grinding stones revolve on horizontal axes, and 
are of various sizes for different kinds of work. Jhe 
blade is frequently wetted, and applied to the stone in 
a way which may be easily conceived. The pen knife 
when ground, is worked on a trundle or glazer, which 
is a wooden wheel about four feet in diameter and two 
inches thick. On the edge of this wheel is a coating 
of soft metal, consisting of lead and tin, about an inch 
in thickness } and on this, powdered emery is applied. 
The next process is that of polishing or buffing the 
blade, which is done on a wheel similar to that last 
described, except that the surface of the wheel is 
covered with buff leather instead of emery. On this 

leather some very fine polishing powder is applied, 
and the blade polished. 

The blade now passes into the hands of the work- 
man who is to finish it and finally place it in its 
handle. The workman wears a breast-plate in front 
of his body, fiastened round him with strapsj the 
breast-plate contains a piece of steel with several 
small indentations. These are to receive the blunt 
end of a borer which is to make small holes for rivets, 
and for the hole for the pin upon which the blade 
works at the joint. An ingenious instrument called 
the boring-stick, gives a rapid rotatory motion to the 
borer, which is a sharp instrument, and tjbus enables 
it to penetrate the metal applied against the sharp end 
of the borer. 

The materials employed for handles are almost in- 
numerable. Gold, silver, ivory, mother of pearl, tor- 
toise-shell, horn, bone, cast-iron, &c., are employed, 
according to the costliness of the article. The forms 
of handles are almost as various as their materials, as 
is wdl known. 

When the blade and the handle, with its metaUic 
lining, 'spring, &c., aire properly niade and the holes 
bored, the whole is pinned together, (loosely al) first, 
till, all the parts beiiig exactly fitted, the knife is 
fbuhd to v^ork properly,) with pieces of wire, and 
rivetted with the hatamef. The sides of the handle, 
if of' horn, ivbryj or shell, are tlien filed and scraped, 
and then polished on a wheel Covered with boff 
leather. A small shield, either of silver or some other 
metal, is frequently inserted in one side of the handle. 
The groove or depression which is to receive this shield 
is made' in a manner somewhat resembling that in 
which the holes are boi'ed. ' ' 

We may stat^, as an instance of the rapidity with 
which pen-knives must be milde, that we have pur- 
chased one at a cutler's in London for three- halfpence. 
The handle was of cast-iron, and the rivets and spring 
firm and complete. It is needless to say, that as a 
cutting instrument its merits were but slight ; but we 
mention it as a proof of what may be done by division 
of labour and the application of machinery. The raw 
material, the workmen's wages, the carriage to Lon- 
don, and the profit of the shopkeeper, must all be 
paid out of this three-halfpence ! 

Pounce. — ^Writing masters are in the habit of rub« 
bing the powder of scuttle-fish, or of gum sandarach, 
upon writing-paper, in order to make it less absorp- 
tive of the ink. This gives a sharp, precise, and deter- 
minate character to the writing. For those who are 
curious in the art of the pen, pounce is very useful in 
concealing errors which have been scratched out with 
a pen-knife. The action of the latter upon paper is 
to remove the size and to allow the ink to diffuse itself 
into an ugly blot : this, however, is altogether pre- 
vented by the application of pounce. 


If those whom the wisdom of our laws has condemned to 
die, had been detected in their rudiments of robbery, they 
might, by proper discipline, and useful labour, have been 
disentangled in their habits ; they might have escaped all 
the temptations to subsequent crimes, and passed their days 
in reparation and penitence; and detected tbey might all 
have been, had tne prosecutors been certain their lives 
would have been spared. I believe every thief will confess, 
that he has been more than once seised and dismissed ; and 
that he has sometimes ventured upon capital crimes, be- 
cause he knew, that those whom he injured, would rather 
connive at his escape than cloud iheir minds with the hor- 
rors of his death. — ^Johnson. 


FoBUiMxs 111 Wbuelt Nvmsbm. rkios Omk Fskiit, AMU iM MovvMiiT Fabtiw 

raUM Bizrurai. 

SaturHan iHairacftne^ 


MARCH, 1839. 


k LirZ*BOAT C 


Tbs ihip bcnralhlicT laftjr pieisuri 

Tlia mniiliu will, thtl court t gentle breeUi 

From ifacir bigh itatioiii nak by slow degreei. 

Tha watcbrul ruler of the helm oo moie 

With tied Ulenlioii ere* the adjaceot ihore ; 

Bu by th* ancle of truth below, 

Tha wondiaii* micDCt, guides tha n>i]rw(Td prow. 

The wind, that tlill the impieoive canvau ivelled. 

Swift aad niore avrill tha Tielding bark impelled. 

litha pmcMding dmnoni of the lubjaet, we liai'e endea- 
Mnd to give B geoeral view of the progreu of naval entcr- 
Mutdowit to about the year ISOO. Tbat memorable period 
■mad a marked and nioit eventful epoch in the history of 
the human. race. The invention of printing, nnil ilie im- 
prlut eiiMnetanus connected with the Heformalion, 
HfMMld'j^at ma)r indeed be termed the "dark agei" 
MM Mjdimimea; and a third class of events, which «erved 
la— halhit boundary still more decisive, wa« tha discovery 
if laid* befoia uakoown to the nations of Western Bu- 

a of these discoveries we ahall now give a 
•Mial'akeleh of, without ente'rins into any details. This 
■ iUlbatouT limit* allow ofi fiirtner information must be 
Mfkt in works which are devoted to the narration of sin- 
ri* HfsgM, Midi of which voyage* often furniahes matter 

In 1497 S«ba*tian Cabot discovei^d the main-land of 
AaariotitMir. near Newfoundland. This penon received 
■nsralcommiiaton from Henry the Seventh, to discover new 
MUtriea, and trade Ibereio. He seems to have been of 
Kagliah OTii^, Imt brought up at Venice, which having' 

loft, he lived for some time at Bristol ITie English had 
been it>duced to send Cabotout.ftom jealouajr of Spain and 
PonuKal, which countries bad thriron by pursuing the 
American trade. Not but lliat opposition to the Pope had 
some influence on English adventure : the Pope having been 
very free in giving away Ihe New World to the inhabitanta 
of tlio Peninsula. The English Kl out, however, without 
such patronage. 

About fourteen years after this event, some adventurer* in 
London endeavoured to seek out a passage to Cathay (the 
modern India) and Chine, by sailing to the northwest. 
About the year 1 J99 took place the voyage of Vicente Yanci 
Pinion, ona of the earliest companions of Columbus. In 
sailing to the south-west, over the Atlantic Ocean, he met 
with a violent tempest which forced him upon tha coast of 
Brazil, the people of which coasts took the boats (br the 
young of the ships. They were alarmed by the depression 
of the pole-alar, and astonished and excited at the sight of the 
constellation called the cross. Here they discovered Ihe 
mighty river Mnronon, now called the river of Amaaons, 
frura the notion that some early travellers had asserted that 
they saw armed women roaming about upon its bank*. 
The water of this river makea the sea fresb for many league* 
from the shore. _ , 

In the year 1513 Balboa, a Spanish navif-ator, first ot«as«d 
the Isthmus of Darien, which joins North and South Ame- 
rica, and saw the vast Pacific ocean rolling beneath him; 
and'in 1520 Magellan, a Porlujjuese. who had the i-ommand 
of a Spanish ejtj«i1iiion, soiled towords the South Seas, and 
explored the southern part of the American coniinent. 
The lond separated by the Straita of Hagellan he named 
Tierra del Fvego. or land offireB. from the vast number 
of tires seen during the night in this country. 

The strait named afier biroself being passed uin>H?°> 
Hagellan bow the South Paeiflc ocean before him. This 
voyage of Msgellan was attended by many important 
tesulta. It showed that the Paeiflc and Atlantic ocaans 
were united, and likewise ascerialned tho boundary of V» 



Ameiican continent. Magellan was unfortonately killed at 
the Philippine islands; but his companions in th« Vittoria 
sailed on to the Moluccas, where they astonished the Pbr- 
tuguese hy their presence. They then sailed on to Europe, 
and arrived at Lisbon, after a voyage of three years, which 
time they had taken up in sailing round the earth : so that 
the fact of the earth being a globe could never after be 

doubted. , 4 , • 

In 1501 Amerigo Vespucci sailed across the Atlantic, 
and discovered some part of Brazil, through which circum- 
stance, and the difficulty of attaining historical acccuracy on 
such matters, he has been by some considered as the disco- 
verer of America, which has been named after him. But 
his chief merit, whereby he was so honoured, seems to have 
been that he first pave the world anything like a circum- 
stantial account of the earliest voyages to America. 

Now it is manifestly impossible that such a train of ex- 
traordinary events, all occurring within aperiod of about fif- 
teen years, could fail to produce a powerful effect on the na- 
tions of Europe. A new train of ideas was opened up ; the 
feudal and baronial customs of England and other coun- 
tries, which had been for some time on the decline, received 
a further blow by these discoveries ; since the mercantile 
classes found new channels, in which to dispose of the manu- 
factures of their own country, and to receive the produce of 
the newly-found lands in return ; while the manufacturer 
and artisan found a new field for their labour, in providing 
for the foreign markets. Hence it was by such events that 
that large section of the community, which ia known as the 
" middle classes," attained an influence m the state, which 
they did not before possess. 

It must not however be supposed that this eventful change ^ 
in European history was productive of ujiailoyed good; fur 
men, especially when ignorant and excitc<U wilt too often 
abuse the good gifts which Proviflence bestows apon them ; 
and the love of wealth which, when kept within judicious 
bounds, is one of the elements of a nation's prosperity^ 
seems to be a curse as soon as it becomes a passion. Toe 
Spaniards, when they had seen the natural wealth of the 
Peruvian and Mexican countries which they discovered, 
gave vent to their insatiable avarice^ and gained possession 
of vast treasures by the commission of atrocities, at which 
justice and humanity recoil. But yet did it not conduce to 
the welfare of Spain: fur the acquisition of so much gold 
without giving commodities in return, engendered a spirit 
of indolence, which sapped the foundation of the nation's 
prosperity, and afforded to the rest of Europe a practical il- 
lustration of the lesson, that " Industry is better than 

Early in the sixteenth century, Cortes had visited and 
conquered Mexico. In 1512 Ponce do Leon led his fol- 
lowers out to the New World, with the hope of discovering 
the far-famed Fountain of Youth, and fii*st visited the tract 
now called Florida, which was so named in consequence of 
the beautiful appearance of the country. The Portuguese 
had, a few years before this, sent out an expedition to ex- 
ploro a north-west passage to India, under Cortereal, which 
being wrecked, his brother Gaspard went out in search of 
him, and was lost also in the sea at the entry of the SL 
Lawrence river, which was for some time after called "the 
Gulf of the brothers." Tliis sea, afterwards called Hudson's 
bay, they thought to be between Africa and America. 
But the Portuguese had now acquired for themselves a 
vast extent of territory in South America, now called Bra- 
zil ; in proceeding in an expedition to which parts the cele- 
brated Diaz lost his life, between Brazil and the Cape of 
Good ELope. The Portuguese owned at this time almost 
the whole extent of the East Indies and the west of Africa, 
but all these, with one or two exceptions, they have now 
irrecoverably lost. 

In the year 1527 we read of the English making an 
attempt to get to Cathay by the North Pole. Soon after 
this we find Drake and Frobisher, celebrated English sea- 
men, advancing the nautical art and a knowledge of the 
world ; the two being naturally coeval with each other. 
About this time Drake first sailed into the Pacific Ocean, 
and discovered the tract of country now known as California. 
From this place ho steered on westward, and arrived at the 
Spice Islands, and there began a lucrative commerce. He 
visited in his passage homewards Sierra Leone, and arrived 
in England in 1 580, having been absent nearly three years. 
Drake was the first Englishman who circumnavigated the 
globe. Cavendish, another spirited adventurer, soon after 
pursued a similar route- 
About this time, Newfoundland was visited for commerce 

and fishery; and the tract of eountry now called ViipBl«, 
was so named in honour of quees Blittbeth- 

In the year 1542 we begin to hear of Japan, wfaick wu 
first visited by the Portuguese: and about the year 1563 
Juan Fernanaez discovered the island named after himself 
on the western side of South America. This island is cele- 
brated a» the abode of Alexander Selkirk, ar shipwrecked 
mariner ; found here, after four years' solitary ivsidenoe, by 
Captain Dampier, at the end of the seventeenth century. 
Selkirk was the original of the celebrated noreU obIM 
" Robinson Crusoe." Sir Walter Raleigh, likewise mads 
some figure in nautical affairs about the end of the six- 
teenth century. 

In the year 1553 Sebastian Cai)ot, the son of the fonner 
Cabot, and who had been named by Edward the Sixth, 
" grand pilot of England,** was called upon for his ad\ice 
and assistance in an expedition to discover a passage to 
China, by way of the north-western seas. This expedition 
he did not accompany, owing to his advanced age. The 
expedition was never more heard of: it perished miserably, 
as alluded to by the poet :— 

Miserable they. 
Who, here entangled in the gathering ice. 
Take their last look of the deecending nin : 
While full of death, and fierce with ten-fold frost. 
The long long night, incombenl o'er their beads» 
Falls borriMe. Such was the Briton's iaie. 
As with Ant prow (what have not Britons dued !) 
He for the paMge soaght, attempted siBce 
So much iit vaia.~-— * 

The general objects of the no c th era. expe^tioMi of Itfi 
years, have beea to reach the pelew ud t» isd a passigs 
to the left to China. For ahout tbxee toadred years past, 
thie has been aa object wkUt all the ehxtf wnliirat nationi 
of Europe. 

Though the SpflmiardH aAer ha? ing^ hees eaennted by 
wealth* did very little towwde ireal^ geogfaphleal discovertei 
and nautical science, yet we aewt of their atlMttpting, under 
Gomez, to get to the Spice Uaocb by tkie rwHe : this wu 
in the year 1524. Duriiw the lei^ of Henry the Eij^hth, 
several attempts were made by the Engtbh. Expeditions 
were afterwards fitted out Hkmitft Pavia, Baffin, Hudson, 
and many odiers, which aaawered not the end in view ; but 
increasea the geographical knowledge of the northern con- 
tinent of America ; the various places of which have been 
named from the early discoverers: 

The end of Hudson was lamentable. He had been sent 
out by the London merchants in the yesuc 1608 ; and ha\ing 
discovered and explored the great inland sea, called after 
him '* Hudson's Bay," he was left by his mutinous crew to 
perish on its banks. Tlie company, afterwards knovn ^ 
the Hudson's Bay Company, for trading ia f^n, was not 
formed till the year 1668. 

This spirit of enterprise and action in the north existed 
in England until about the year 1616, when it declined; 
nor wa» it revived until the year 1676, when C^>taiA Wood 
was sent out by the Admiralty. 

In the year 1594, the United Provinces of Holland having 
become independent of the crown of Spain, made an attempt 
to explore the north-western regions of our hemisphere: and* 
as they were a great trading- people, they hoped, inooDsmon 
with the English, to shorten the passage W India. Many 
attempts had been made to have communication with India 
throujgh Russia and Persia ; but thia was found mom tS' 
pensive than the ancient mode of carriage, by the Arabiai 
merchants. Hence their desire for a north-west pc^^)^ 
Denmark sent out an expedition for this purpose about iw 
year 1619 ; and a solitary attempt was made by some si 
terprising English, individuals, in the year 1631. 

The commercial spirit of the Dutch soon raised than ^ 
be an important naval power. After the discovery of ^ 
passage to India round the Cape of Good Hope, the Deloh 
entered with energy into the establishment of m&nutJ^ 
arrangements with the countries of the east ; and io i' 
doing, they necessarily had to pay great attention la thA 
construction and general fitting up of their shipping; i* 
they acquired power, so did their ambition increase ; irf 
they divided tlieir naval exploita between trading toths 
east, and humbling the Spaniards in the weaU In 1639 ths 
celebrated Dutch Admiral Van Tromp, with a fleet of only 
eighteen vessels, forced a Spanish fleet of eighty-nine »u 
to retire discomfited. At and about tlie beginning of tki 
seventeenth century, the Dutch had great power and ^ 
sessions in the East Indies, and on the ooaat of Afnfiti 
which has been since greatly interfered witii by the FrooBl 
and English. Now Zealand was discovered bj. theos it 



1M2t daring an expedHioR ntidev Tasnan, a narigalor sent 
out by Van piemen, governor of the Dutch possessions in 
the East. Tasman's first discovery, after setting sail from 
Batavia, was the latid new calkid Van Diemens land, 
which is at the sootli of Australia, which was likewise du 
eovered by the Dutch. 

About this time, 1616, ffxpeditions were fitted out from 
Kn^land for African dihovrery. The French took up the 
sal^ect abovt eight years after ; after which it slept till the 
year 1 780, when the subject was revived and pursued with 
ardour l^ Pai%, Denham, Clapperten, 8cc., in times more 
contigaooB to oar own. 

During the siiiteenth century it is Kmarked that, as the 
aeal off tha Spanish navigators declined, tiiat of Russia 
increased. Moreover, the Russians hav«, on many ooea- 
sions, shown themselves alert to advance the cause of mari- 
time and geographical knowledge. By them was decidad 
the important qaestion, that Asia and America were sepa- 
rated by a breadth of ocean, now known by the name of 
Behrittg^ strait This question was much discussed in 
HoUandt when Peter the Great dwelt there in 1717. The 
more pressing cares of government prevented him from 
giving attention to this question ; but in his last illness, he 
enjciaed its fulfilment upon his successor. The Empress 
Catherine, in the year 1735, originated the expedition; and 
theat^oet of it was «feoCed in 1730, by Captain Behring, 
whose naaie has been given to the passage. The Russians 
entered upon another ekpadition in 1 741, to explore towards 
the noith-«ast, and meet the more western nation! of 
Biirope, in their wilv»ncM to the north-west; and at the 
saaae tine ma&fSket eKpeditien went aouthwaid to Japan. 

The French expedition under Cartier, in 15S4, had oon- 
quend and — tjeeted to the «K>wa of Franoe» all the «oun- 
tiies romd the St. Lawrenoe, in North Ameriea ; all which 
veie takan by Hm Baglitb, about the year 1763* In tson- 
saqnence «f the aaeoets «f the French in their voyages of 
diaoevery, while eooupyiag Canada, the English were 
ineiied to send Oainmoidore Bynii« in the year 1764* on a 
voyage of discovery to America; and soon after, about 
1783, France, with a like spirit of emulation, despatched an 
expedition for a similar purpoee, under La P^rouse. 

In the year 1 773, north-weat discovery was again pursued 
nnder the conduct of Captain Phipps, who got to about 81* 
north latitude. In 1776 Captain Cook was sent out to sail 
into the Pacific, and thence into the Atlantic. He performed 
several voyages, the tracks of which are usually laid down 
on full-sized globes and maps. After Cook, the north-west 
coasts of America were visited at different periods by Meares, 
Vancouver, and Kotzebue ; and though the limit of dis- 
covery was not then extended beyond Icy Cape, the shores 
were more minutely examined* and an useful commerce 
established with the natives. Captain Cook completed the 
survey of Australia ; and since his time no material disco- 
veries have been made in the South Seas. 

Captain Bligh» in the Bounty, aailed into the Paciflo 
ocean, in the year 17S8 : upon which occasion a mntiny 
took place. Many of the men remained behind in the 
beautiful islands of those eeaa; who were subsequently 
seen by Captain Edwards, of the Pandora, in 1791 : and 
in 1808. Adamsy one of Ae last of the mutineers, was seen 
at Pitcairn'e Island, by Captain Felger ; and by Captain 
Staines in 1814. 

Attempta have often been made by tiie British nation, to 
complete the aulijeet of northern discovery. An expedition 
was fitted out fbr this purpose at the beginning of the last 
centary, under Knight and Barlow ; but it never returned. 
A vessel ooaanandMl by Captain Scroggs waa tent out to 
look after it about 1720 ; but it was not nntil fifty years 
after that the wrecks of the vesaeb van finmd upon mirble 
Island. The expeditSoB was renewed in 1741, under 
Middleton ; and subeequently sevwal attempts were made 
to co-operate with Captain Cook in bis endeavours to seek 
a norUi-west passage. After this« this part of maritime 
discovery waa suspended nntil 161B ; when Parry, Franklin, 
and Ross, began to make aomewhat moce extensive advances 
in the abodes of eternal winter. 

Sir John Fianklsn, accompanied by Dr. Richardson, 
viiited these parts npon two occasions; in 1820 and 1825. 
In May, 1825, Captain Beechey was sent out by govern- 
ment, in the Blossom, to Behring's strait, to assist and 
cooperate with Franklin and Parry, if these should sucoeed 
in pasainff along to the north-west, and discovering the 
long sougnt passage. While waiting between Asia and 
America, he surveyed the coasts^ &c., with great care and 
minutenesa. Partita fiom the Blosiom passed over-land to 

the east, and came within 1 50 miles of the advanced parties 
of those who were proceeding westward. Beechey arrived 
again in England in October, 1828, and found that Frank- 
lin had returned about fourteen months before him. 

The Russians have likewise endeavoured to promote 
maritime discovery about, and to the north of. Nova Zem- 
bla. Under Kotzebue, in 1816, they explored northward 
of Behring's strait; and ther have always afforded every 
fhcility in their power towaras the discovery of the north- 
west passage. 


Wb need not enter into the fonn, and other details, of 
modem shipping, as the reader will find an extensive and 
minute aocpunt, by referring to the 69th, lOSrd, and 106th 
numbers of this work : but we cannot refrain from present- 
ing our readers with the following details of the origin of 
the Lite-Boat, and the uses to which it is appUed. The 
Life-Boat forms the subject of the frontispiece of this 

So long as life is subject to those vicissitudes and aoei- 
dents which inevitably threaten it, so long will there be 
exercise for the developement of humane and benevolent 
contrivances for pre\%nting, or at least alleviating, distress, 
in whatever form it may be presented. . 

The vast and briny ocean is not the least among the 
sources of human destniction, and has presented, in more 
ways tlian one, a wide field for human perseverance. When 
a *' rough sea** is met with fhr from land, the danger to a 
ship is not so great as when it occurs near shore ; for in the 
latter case liiere is imminent danger of her being driven 
upon shoals, or against rocks, by which the stoutest vessels 
are shattered. 

In such cases, the peril in which the poor mariners are 
placed is extreme ;-K)ften so near the shore that spectators 
can see the gradual destruction of both ship and men, with- 
out possessing the power to render assistance ; since any 
oommen form of boat dares not renture from the shore to 
^e distressed vessel to aftird relief. 

A circumstance such as this occurred in September, 
1789, when the AdvettUtre was stranded on the Herd 
Sand of South Shields, in the midst of tremendous breakers. 
The shore was lined by spectators, who saw the mariners 
drop one by one from the rigging into the waves ; and all 
were lost. 

A meeting of the inhabitants was called shortly after- 
wards, when a prsorium was otFered Ihr the construction of 
sneh a boat, as should be able to stand against any tempest, 
so as to afford a means for sending assistance from the 
shore to a ship in distress. Mr. Gieathead gained the pre- 
mium, and in 1 796 a boat constracted by htm was launched,' 
and was found te possess almost every requisite. Its 
nrade of constnietion was such that it was almost impossihie 
to be upset. The length was thirty fSset, breadth ten feet, 
and depth about thiwe feet. It waa exactly alike at both 
enda, so that it could be rowed either way ; and the enda 
enried upwards to a great height, in consequence of the keel 
being very deeply convex from end to end. The orosa 
section was likewise a portioa of a eirde. The sides were 
cased with a layer of oork, twenty-one halt long, sixteen 
inches wide, and four inches thick ; which were secured 
with slips of copper: and a somewhat similar layer of cork 
lined the inside of the sides, the quantity altogether being 
seven hundred weight. There was provision for ten oars, 
besides an oar at each end to act as rudder. The intei-nal 
shallownees of the boat, the elevated position of the ends, 
and the bulk of cork, left such a small amount of room, 
that when quite fuU of water, its stability was scarcely 

The eflieaey of the eonstmction was put to continual and 
•evere tests off the Yorkshire coast, and gave most com- 
plete flBti8<hetion* On one occasion the boat reached a 
ahipin a Uemendous gale, brought away the crew, and 
came safely to shore, crammed with seamen, and completely 
Ml ef water : this would be almost incredible, were it not 
that the whole of the cork was above high-water line, and 
therefore gave it an extraordinary buoyancy. 

On another occasion, when the awful appearance of ffae 
oeean quailed the hearts of even those who nad been accua^ 
temed to manage the life-boat, Mr. Greathead himself 
jnmped into the t)Oat, and thereby infused a new ardour into 
the men; they reached a wrecked vessel, picked the 
ahivenng and exhausted mariners from the shrouds to 
whiah they hung, and brought them all safely on shores . 




13001. from Parliament, 100 guioeu from Lloyd's, 100 
KuJLieai from the Trinity-tiouie, SO guiDOaii from the 
Society of ArlB, and a diamond ring from the Rmperor of 
Bunia, wera tome of the rewordt wluch Mr. G. recelvKl 
for liii ingenuity. 

Yariaus other contrivance* for the tame object, more or 
Iflu simikr to the abore, have bean adopted ; but at these 
we can only glance. A plan of Captain Gordon wai, to 
have an assemblage of itript of cork fastened round the 
oatsidos of every boat attached to a ship ; so that, in case 
of wreck, the men could take to the Doat, and prescrre 
tbemaelves above water by means of the buoyancy which 
the cork gave to the boat. 

Another contrivance, by Mr. Grant, was, to have a thirty- 
lix gallon cask, with some iron ballast, fixed on a wooden 
bed, and lashed to the oaik, and ropes round it for men to 
h^d by. Wlien the hole of tlie cask was well bunfted, it 
was bund that ten men could be supported by it without 
inconvenience. Such casks it was proposed to iiave kept 
on board ship. In other cases, corks, bladders, rafts, and 
various contrivances have been recommended as meanaot 
esoape from a ship to the shore. 

But a contrivance has been adopted, by means of which 
a Tops can be thrown fivm the shore to a ship ; so as to 
establish a coramunicatlon between them. This is the 
method of Captain Manby, which was perfected some years 
ngo. A shot, shaped somewluit like a pear, was fastened, 
through the intervention of pkiled hide, to a rope which 
was long enough to reach from the shore to a ship in dis- 
tress. On the shore was a small mortar, with a provision 
Ibr shielding the touch-hole from rain. 

The mortar was loaded, and the ball inserted ; the piece 
was then Bred, and the ball led it with the accustomed 
velocity, uncoiling the rope, (which lay in a coil or "faker" 
on the ground by the side of the mortar,) and passing over 
the ship ; so that, la fallinz, the ball, to which some barbed 
hooks were attached, would cling to soma parts of the rig- 

5ing, so as to enable the seamen to seize the rope, and so to 
raw to the ship, boats, hammooks, cots, rafts, or any other 
contrivance which might be at hand to effect their escape to 

It was found that neither iron chains, nor hempen ropes, 
oould, when attached to the btll, bear the sudden expulsion 
of the latter from the mortar without breaking ; bul plaited 
bide was found to answer that objecL When the assistance 
had to be rendered at night, and the ship was not visible 
tnm shore, a ball, containing combustible matter, was shot 
np into the air: it had a lighted fusee attached to it, which 
WBB so regulated as to ignite the combustibles at an eleva- 
tion ofabont 300 yards. By these means, a splendid light 
wM produced, by which the persons on shore could see the 
poaltion of the ship, and could place two white rods in a 
right Una with the ship, as a guide. A ball was tlien fired ; 
bat, instead of being solid, it was a ibell, filled with combus- 
tibles, and having four holes, through which a brilliant 
MTMm of light rushed as the shell passed through the air : 
this enabled the seamen to perceive the rope in its passage, 
M aa to make the necessary exertions towards their own 
pTMerVBlion. This very elaborate and ingenious invention 
of Captain Manby, drew the particular attention both of the 
House of Commons and of the Navy boatd. 


Tbx nautical art is usually divided into two parts- 
Mp, and Navigation Proper. The first branch is to be 
learnt only on board ; and comprises all those details which 
telate to the management of the ship, apart from guiding 
ita oouTso, which is termed Navigation Proper. 

In this branch of our subject, there are three things in 
particular, which it is the object of Navigation Proper to 
ascertain : — I. Rate of ship's going, and distance gone. — 
3. Direction in which the ship ii going, or her course. — 
3. Where the ship is. 

1. Tha rate of the ship's going, and her distance gone, 
■n ascertained by the loo. The inventor of this instrument 
is not known. It is first mentioned by Purehas in 1807, 
as commonly used: it is a quadrantal piece of wood, about 
6 inches tadiiiB, and a quutcr of an inch thick, loaded with 
lead at its arc, in order to make it stand upright in the 
water. It is called the Log-t/iip, and has a line fiutened to 
it, about 130 fathoms long, called the Log-line, which is 
divided into spaces called knot*, and is wound on a reel, 
from whioh it nini off freolf whan used. With this ii used 

a half-minute glaii. The operation of using theM iutifr 
ments, is called ^nroinj; the log. 

When the log is thrown overboard, it remains stationuy 
in the water; and the number of knots marked on the liu 
by pieces of red rag, which pass over the side of ttie Tasit^ 
white tho glass is running, shows how many knotS) w 
nautical miles, the vessel is sailing per hour. 

The knots are nearly 51 feet on the line, apart from sad 
other; and as.^Oft. Sin. is the same part of a nautical inili^ 
that a half minute is of an hour ; it is clear that the dub- 
ber cf knots observed, shows the rate of the ship's gnn|. 
The log is thrown over on tho lec-sida of the ship, (utstn 
tho side autiy from the wind,) end the first knot is aboiil 
twelve fathoms * from the log, in order to allow the log is 
settle and get out of the eddy of the ship's wake. Wbea 
the red rag at llie first knot passes over the side of the th- 
sel, the glass is allowed to run; and the knots are Ihen 
counted oh they pass over, till tha sand baa run out. Tba 
log is heaved every one or two hours. 

Having thus ascertained tbarott of the lUp's going, tli) 
diilaaqe gone is known by taultiplyiog thnir kaoti, oc 
miles, by the hours sailed. 

II. Ilia eoorsa of tho ship is ascertainid by the Coh- 
PAss. The attraction of the loadstone for ino, ^a* knon 
in very early times; but tlie polarity ot tba nwO* does not 
seem to have been discovered until tba end of Aa twellUi 
century. The compass was first used on land;,aBd in pm- 
gress of time, applied to guide ahips on the oean< 

The subsequent account of the compass, is duiiiwl, in in 
abrideed form, from Toklinson's Mential i^ S^m^ PU- 
loiophg; to which work we likewise owe tw flgOKs illns- 
tntive of the subject. 

The principle of the compass is, that a mognetio aenlla 
such a> is here shown, is suspended, for land purpoaea, oter 
the card on which tha points of the compass are iliiilniiilaJ 

The annexed cut shows the polarity of the atiMa, 
which is balanced on a puint c, at the top of the stand 
B A. The point c of the maf;net, is the Meutral line, and is 
equidistant from the poles n and s. 

Tho accompanying figure represents the card of tbe con^ 
pass, and shows the visible horizon of any place. It ^ 
circular, and divided into thirty-two parts by lines call^ 

rhumb-linei, the extremities of which are poi'iite. Aflh 
whole circumference contains 360°, each point ia llf. "^ 
principal points are fbur; called cardinal foinU ; asbnB| 

• A ftahom is nx (tet. 


«n vhicli the otben htHgt or depend. The North 
il point hail afleur^-lis. A needle suspended at the 
of the urd, ind enclosed in ■ box, is u»ed in sur- 

(he magnetie tiM<U« of ft ship'i compau, la placed 
the eard, along the N<»di and Sonth lioe ; so that the 
beys all the motiona of the 'needl«. The annexed 
mtaboii will teire to illoitrais the two eorta of ewm- 
nced on board ihip,— the Steering and Aiimuth eom- 
The •teering-eompua ii without the aighta a and s. 

the card ii stopped in an obaervatton h^ a email lever eon- 
nected with it. Thii compau i« held in a square box. The 
compaaa-basin is supported hy a Htnicircle of brats c cpaaa- 
ing below the batin, and lerewed Brmly to the bottom of 
the box ; and it ii suspended horiiontallr by two opposite 
pivots, one of which is seen at a, passing rrom its sides into 
a hoop of braes 8 r, which hoop, bv means of pivots from 
two extreme points be, is connected with, and rests from 
the extremities of the semicircle ci>. These hoops are 
termed gimbalt., and their use is to keep the cumpau bori- 
■ontal, however the ship ma; be t««sed about in the sea. 
The compasi-basin is covered with a gloss to prevent 11m 
cani from being agitated bf the air. 

When, in looking through the sight a, the sun, or a atar, 
is seen to be bisected Ini the wire at ■, the card is slopped 
by a handle at Ibe side of the basin, and its angular distanea 
from the North or South, or from the East or West, aa 
shown by the card, is taken ; the former angle being termed 
the magnetic azlmutb, — the latter, the magnetic amplitude. 
From these are computed the true asimuth and amplitude: 
and thence, the amount of the variation of the compass. 

An azimulh-compHEB of an elegant, cheaper, and mora 

Kriable character than tbo foregoing, has been contrived 
the late Captain Kater. We here give a representatioQ 

a cylinilrical brass box, one inch deep, with k 

fignre, the nearest side of the square box is reprc- 
a* wanting, in order to show the interior arrange- 
The steeriap-compass is often called the Binnade- 
*,-becaDsetti* contained on board in a large wooden 
imiahed with lights at night, and an bonr-glass ; and 
iced in front of the helmsman at the wheel. This 
:alled the biTmacU, and haa no iron work in or about 
it oompaaa, with ita gimbals, is usually fitted into 
naele, without the box. The steersman, in guiding 
ip, is careful to keep the point of the bonion as 
1 upon the card coincident with the black line d, 
ine is termed hubber't-point, 

a the sights a and b are placed on the tides of the 
s-basin, this becomes an aiimuth-compass. Aii- 
I the angular distance of a heavenly body from the 
or South. Thui, in the annexed flgnre, if ■ be the 

ir point overhead, sir hit meridian, 
lis koriioni then i a will be the aiimuth circle pais- 
eDDh a heavenly body c. d it the east point of the 
I. The arc of (he horiion, n a, or c p above, measured 
eea, is the aiimuth of the heavenly body c. and a n 
iinplitude, or distance in degrees from the Bast or 
mints of the borlxon. The use of observing the am- 
: or atimutb of the sun, or other heavenly body, is ta 
in the F'arialion qf the compass, which is different in 
It parts or the world ; there being but few places, com- 
ely, where the needle points truly North and South ; 
is evident, that if this deviation were not constantly 
the compass would he almost useless, 
us now recur to the figure of the compass going 
The sights are placed vertically on the rim a h of 
un. The sight a. which the observer looks through, 
«e of brass with a narrow slit. The other sight a, is 
A towards the object ; down which slit passes a fine 
hoTse-hair. There it a vertical line going down from 
h mark* the degree on, tba rim of the card, when 

fClass cover. This box contain* the compata-ewd CD, whieh 
u Sve inches in diameter, and the needle m a, delicately 
poised on an agate cap. The needle it attached to a disk at 
talc, round the rim of which is laid a ring of card, ^r^ 
duated to half-degrees. A slanting piece of ivory is teen 
within the box, just projecting over the margin of the gradu- 
ated circumference of the card; aod ao index-line is marked 
on the ivory for reading off the divisions on the card. A 
brass sit;ht-frame o h it placed exactly at the opposite tide 
of the box ; it is five inches in length. A shorter frame ■ r, 
two inches long, slides up nnddown on; andcontains {he 
segment of a glass cylinder. When the sun shines upon this 
lens at ■ r, its rays are collected into a linear focua ; and die 
line of light, being cast upon the index-lineof the ivory pro- 
jection, maybe seen at the lametime with the degrees on the 
card. The frame o n can be bent down by a hinge at n, nhea 
the instrument is not in use. It then preaies upon a lever l 
which raises up tiie needle n a, and prevents it from getting 
damaged. The tight for the observer's eye is one inch in 
height from the hinge a to its upper part; but it may be 
raised higher by means of an upright piece which slidaa 
between two grooves in the side of ihe box, as shown at ca 
This upright piece baa a vertical slit s', which terminates in 
a hole I, with a convex lens. There is alto a horizonul plane 
below ■, fixed beneath the hole i ; in which plane there b 
also a convex lens, attached to which at an angle of 4S° is* 
mirror, x, on the inner tide of x, by means of which, and 
the lenses, the observer looking through the bote at i, teea 
the degrees on tbe card by retlection, reversed and mnnni- 
fled. The figures expressing the degrees, are therefore 
printed in reverse, so at to he read in their proper posilioo, 
when seen through the lenses. 

In making an observation with this instruiuent, Ihe fVante 
OH is raised and directed towards the luminary. Then tbe 
cylindrical lens bf, is alid up n down, till the linear focus 
of the sun's light fiklli upon the ivory index. This is viewed 
through p; and -when the eatd it ttetdy, the degreea aad 
paita ibon by the indax-liiM britnr i. «bi0h.ia>ii^*lA4,))9r 



th« wUr 1in« of liglit Mat b; tha lent i r, are ttkd oS, 
which will ttivQ tbe in*KneIic azimuth. When a« obtarva' 
titm in m&de far the aiimutb, the heareiily body obeerved 
•honld Rot be much aboTe the horiion ; and if it be tbe euu, 
tbe obiemklion ii raada nuMt stfelf, when the sun's disk is 
trisected by the botraon. 

This compass tna; be used in sarveyiTig. For this pui- 
pose, the lens xF, is tnoved out of the way to the tap 
of tbe frama a h ; and then the hone-hair, or wire, 

C«jn[ down s h, is dtstinctlv saen. The hair or wire, 
nK viewed through tixe slit ■ , is made to bisect an object 
seen D7 direct vision, at tbe monent wben its bearing by 
the card is viewed by refleetion. This hair, or wire, is not 
used in obsenatiom of the sun ; but must be appliad, wben 
tba Dtnplitnde or aximnth ef a star is taken ; and the lens 
on a H IS not used in terrestrial observations. The sif;ht U 
T may be thrown back by means of tbe hinge at a, and tbe 
degrees tesd off with the naked eye. 

But the compasSi — the ptwidenlinl and excellent aid of 
the mariner, was discovered, in proeres* of time to err, even 
from Ibe magntUc meridian. With now much less certainty 
then could the mariner know the geographical meridian, 
when out opon the boundless ocean 1 We refer to the local 
ottnction of tha compass-needle in consequence of the 
masses of iron on board-ship ; whereby the needle is drawn 
more or less from the mDf;ne[ic meridian, according to the 
situation of the disturbing causes with respect to the needle. 
This eSect is called the aberration of the needle ; and is of 
\arpe amount in ships of war; nhorc the (;uns, shots, waler- 
tanks, and frame-work of the vessel, are all made of iron. 
But the real cause of this evil was not Euspccted until the 
year 1794, when it was first cleared up by Mr. Downie, 
master of his Majesty's ship Glory ; and Professor Barlow 
instituted the means for remedying the evil ; which means, 
we will endeavour briefly to give an idea or. 

Among many useful and curious facts, which Barlow eli- 
cited in the course of his experiments, he ascertained, that 
the magnetic power resides entirely on the surface of a body 
and is independent of it as a mere mass ; so that a hollow 
shell of iron, of two or three pounds weight, would hat 
much attractive force, as a solid ball of the same diam 

weighing SO or 100 lbs. Hence, as the disturbing ca 

of the magnet are a-head of the compass. Barlow thought 
of arranging a certain amount of metal behind tbe com- 
pass, which should compensate, or nullify, the effect of the 
•hip's metal, by making suitable allowance for it- 
Pi,, i. 

In Bg. l.BisabaxmovMUeonaD axii,inoM 
may be turned round in any direction, a* tbe be 
ship is tnraed roand at sea. This box is used on 
has no iron connected with it. On the side k ai 
boles for the reeeptioD and atljustmect of the ra 
aiimuth-«ompass c, is Axed on tbe top. The apf 
fig. 2, it used on board-ship, to support tbe aanw 
oompoasc'; which sort of compass w cbieUy em 
tb ea o obMivatians, not only ss being more portak 
enabling tbe obsenrers to meaaura arcs of the born 
and tbe binnacle-compass must, however, agrei 

Tig. «. 

Mr. Barlow's Con«etlng Plate, or Magnetic Compensator 
is shown in the annexed figures 1 and 2 ; where in both 
eases A is a rod of brass or copper, lijinchin diameter, and it' 
two thin circular plates of iron, la or 13 inches in breadth. 
These plates aie not in contact ; but are separated by a cit^ 
cular piece of board or card, and pressed together by means 
of a brass nnt at their centre, on the end of the rod. Other 
small screws are used near the rims of the plates, in order 
to make their union more even and complete. Two plates 
are used, in order that any defect or irregularity in one 
may be corrected by the other ; that a tendency to warp 
may be obviated ; that a larger extent of surface may be 
gained in a smaller space ; and lastly it is found that tba 
plates an more powetTnl when separated than when in 

The manner of using this apparatus is as follow) 
ship, being about to proceed on a voyage, iiu 
Ui metal on board, tbe variation of tbe mkd 

carefully noted as the ship's head is swung ttmi 
principal (say, the four cardinal and four ai 
points of the horizon, Tha box a, wil^ this cMBps 
top, is then taken on shore, and set down when , 
free from all metallic altroetioii. Tbe objeot of the 
on ahore it, by the adjustment of the plate i i'. on 
of the box B, as this box is turned round to tbe 
points of the horizon, (those menliotied balore), b 
the same, or similar, irregularitiea in the DMdi 
compass c, on tbe box b, as were occasioned to U 
of this compass when on board, by ibe musM a 
the ship. A little practice will soon enable any 
adjust the plate, as lo obtain theobjcct in viewwith 
accuracy. This having been effected, the distance 
centre of the plale to tbe pivot on which the need 
is carefully noted ; together with Ibo angle which 
makes with a vertical plane. Whenever the plate 
on board, it must he fixed to one of the legs of the 
(which usually supports the azimuth-compass di 
observation,) at the same distance fhim the centr 
needle at c', and at the same angle with the ve 
when inserted in the side s, of tbe box a. 

Now, as the plate was made to produce as much 
all the iron on board, when the plate is used o" be 
error is consequently doubled. It is, of course, un 
that, whenever the azimulh-compass is used, it 
placed in the position where it was just before tal 
box B on ahore ; as the needle is variously affiwte 
fereni parts of tbe vessel. 

The action of the metal on board is to inereate 
mfniih tbe tnie variation, according as the ship lie: 
time; and, as the plate doubles the error of the i 
allowance is made, -(-or — , accordingly. 

In process of time it came to be observed that 
of going of tbe chronometers on board ship was 
less affected by the quantity of metal on board, ■ 
by partial masses near the chronometers : owing I 
the difficulty of truly determining the longinide 
time-keepnrs was made more decided. The'e 
•poken of, was at first imputed to the motion of tl 
on the teas, until, in the year 1818, Mr. O. Fitl 
aocomMiniod Captain Buehan in his voyage to t 
seas, observed that the chronometers went differ> 
•bore from what they did when they were in tbe ve 
tutgect to the metallic influence on board. This b 
the tubject likewite engaged Baiiow't Bttenlion; 



nmed3r nif jetted hf kim is dependenl oa ik» sane |ini»* 
eip^es M those applied in the former cese. 

Charts of different plaees on the eartli*e rarfaoe sre 
necessary for the mariner. A chart is a namtiatl nnip, 
coDtaiaing, besidee fj^Beml geography, a detailed accoant 
of the ceatts and shores, rocks, »aiid<b«iikB, &e^ &e. A 
globe is the most nattmil repveseiktatten ef ^e earth ; but 
this is usually of aecessity snaU, and caaaot gite places in 
detait, so well as maps. Bat as maeh of the osBvex aar- 
Ihee ef tlie earth eaanoC ha laid down on a plaxie sarfaee^ 
aad as the bearing sf a place is of msia impaitanee to the 
aavigatev tlMB its ap f a roa l siae, charts ate drav& vith the 
asridiaaa pamUal to sach other, so that the ocvthern aad 
foathere parts of sach a map are swelM oat and distorted 
beyond natuta ; bat the bearing of fdaces tbas laid dowa is 
scearately estimated at a glaace. Hcaee, as fiur aa appear* 
sacs goes, the nearer a place is to the equator, the tiuer is 
its apparent comparatiire size in nature; and the nearer 
as get to the poles, the more magnified is the representa- 

III. By the log aad the compass, the latltadcaad ioagi- 
tode of the ship may be inferred by calculation ; the lati- 
tade and leagitude at departure being known. The ship s 
progress is set down for twenty-foiir hours on the log-board 
er riate, aad is transferred to the log«book, and at twelve 
o'oloek every day the account is made up^ The distance 
ran by the U)^» in the direetion as shown by the compass, 
gives the difference oX latitude and longitude 6^ aceount, 
which is called the dead reckening : but as this method 
if apt to be fallacious, except in short cats, astronomical 
science ftirnishes means for correcting the latitude and 
Inigitude by account 6y observation. The instrument 
used for this purpose is the quadrant, or sextant, or both. 

The Qse of this instrument was adverted to in a former 
srtk^ on Navigation, No. 417, p. 252, of this work. The 
modem quadrant is an improveaient upon the ancient 
astrolabe; and the sextant is an improvement upon the 
qoadrant. Moreover the reflecting circle is an improvement 
apon the sextant. 

The quadrant is more propeiiy termed an octant, because 
its are embraces the eighth part of a circle, though we are 
thereby enabled to measure a quadrantal arc, or the fourth 
of a circle, « 90^ The eeartant, however, has an are to the 
extent of one stjHh of a circle ; but we are enabled by its 
means to measure an ate of 1 20^, or the third part of a 
etreXe. The reflecting circle, a still mors accurate in8tn»- 
mentthan the foregoing, has an entire circle graduated, 
and enables as to measure larger arcs, than we could do 
with the before-mentioned instraments. 

The principle of these three comparatively modem in- 
straments being the same, we proceed to illustrate their 
nature and use, by reference to the accompanying ftgure of 
the Quadrant. 

A is the frame-work of the quadrant, and affords conve- 
nience for grasping it during observations on board, n is 
the index, which turns on the centre of the circle, of which 
the divided limb d is a part or arc. The index a carries 
the index- glass i perpendicular to the plane of the index, 
and in a line with o on the vernier scale c. o is the fore 
horizon-glass half silvered, and so placed by means of its 
adjustment as to be parallel to the index-glass, when o on 
the vernier is at o on the limb d. k is a sight hole, through 
ahich the horizon is seen through the unsilvered part of 
the glass at o. At B is a set of coloured glasses, by using 
ope or more of which we may protect the eye from the 
direct rays ot the sun. b f is the back horizon glass and 
sight. This glass is silvered at both ends, and in the 
niiddle there is a transparent alit, through which the 
horizon may be seen. At l is a nick to prevent the index 
from slipping off from the frame. 

Now the sextant is an instrument rather more finished 
and nice in its construction than the foregoing : being more 
delicately graduated, and having telescopes foe more per- 
fect and distinct vision. The limb d of the quadrant is 
divided into 90 equal parts or degrees, which degrees are 
finbdivided by means of the vernier c into minutes, 60 of 
*hich := 1 degree. But we more usually find that each of 
the degrees on the arc d is divided into thirds, each = 20' ; 
each of which thirds is subdivided by the vernier into twen- 
tieths, or single minutes. 

We cannot here conveniently enter into a consideration 
of the optical principle by whicn the arc d, though only the 
eighth part of a circle, affords us an estimate of angles to 
the extent of 90**. We proceed, therefore^ to show the use 
<>'this instrument 

When " a sight," as it is eommenly termed, is taken, or 
when an observation is to be made.-^-of the sun, for in* 
stanee,<'-^he index n is moved along till tho lower Uu&b of 
the 8«ui is seen through the sight^^hole k in the silvered part 
ef the horison-glass o, and in the same liae with tlie aata« 
ral herizoft seen through the unsilvered part. Then the 
portion of the Umb^ over which t\\» index has beea moved, 
IS the measure of the angle. This method ef observing tlie 
altitude of a celestial body is termed the fore observatioR^ 
The other method is when the observer s back is towards 
the e^ect. and it is brought over te the opposite part of the 
heriaea $ the observer then looks through & ; and this mode 
oi observing is termed a biick observatixHU This latter 
BMthod of observing is^ however, very seldeoi used ; and 
is requisite only wlien tlie horison under the object is 
broken by adjacent shores, or rendered indistinet by fegs^ 
ot any other impediokents. 

The principal use of the quadrant is then te mahe obser* 
vatieas en board ship, — to find the altitude of the sun or of 
a star; that is, the angle which the elevation of such 
beaveaJy body makes with a horijontal Une^ or the beu»- 
dary line of the sea,, as seen in the dietancew This angle 
can never be mote than 90^ or the distaaee from the sejaith 
te the heriiaon ; and the altitude of the sua reaches this 
exten t only at mid-day, and in certain Utitades. The 
qaadraat, tJtierefore, whether with relation to the sun or a 
star, is always sufficient for taking the latitude ; but, as a 
larger are is often necessary to be measured in finding the 
longitude hy lunar distances^ we then have xeceurse tpt the 

The SUB coming upon the meridian, marks the close of 
one aautieal day, and the beginning of another. At thia 
time the reckonings for the past twenty four hours are madsk 
which is termed ^ois^ a days work. By an easy problem 
in nautical astronomy, the altitude oC the sun at tweWa 
o ckKsk, or its meridian altitude, enables the sailor te obtain 
the latitude of the place. But the latitude may also at 
ether hours be taken by observation of the Polar star ; bat 
the meridian altitude of the sun has most advantages* 
There are about a dose a methods of finding the longitude, 
Bsore or less easy on land : bat none of them are available 
on ship-board, but two, — by chronometers and lunar di»» 
taneea; because no instrument can be conveniently used for 
observation of the heavenly bodies, but the quadrant and 
sextant ; whose use is not impeded by the rocking of the 

If an accurate chronometer, set to Greenwich time, ba 
taken froos London by a ship proceeding on its voyage, the 
diffsrenoe of time, ascertained by the sua's coming upea the 
meridian at the time of taking the latitude, between the 
chronometer and the ship's iime„ gives the diffesenceof lon- 
gitude. If the difiereaee of time be one hour» the difference 
of longitude is 1 5** — B., if tlie ship's time be beyond the ebro* 
nometer, and W. if it be behind thtf chronometer. In prao-. 
tice, it is a matter of indifferenee whether the chronometer 
carried about on beard-ship from place to place, really shows. 
Greenwich time ; so. that its daily rale of going, and conse- 
quently, its accumulated error, be known at any stated 
Bsoment. AU that is required of the chronometer, there* 
fore, is, thai it should afford the means, (with or without 
correetiott,) ef discovering the true time at Green wich» at 
any partio«dar moment. 

The term lunar distances implies the distance ef the IMboii 
from the 8utt» or from any of the fixed stars, which are in 
the neighbourhood of her path. As the aioon is constantly 
changing her place, these distances are constantly varying. 
The distances at certain hours of every day in. the year are 
given in the Nautical Almanac» which mariners take on 
board with them ; and when these distances by nMssure- 
ment with the sextant are found to occur at different times 
from what the Almanac gives for their occurrence at 
Greenwich, the observed difference of time furnishes the 
difference of longitude, as specified befi)rc. This method 
of proceeding te find the longitude is termed " taking a 

The question of the longitude has always been important, 
from the difficulty of ascertaining it with tolerable correct- 
ness. In 1714 Parliament offered a reward of 20,000/. for 
the discovery of a method for fii\ding it within half a degree. 
Soon after, Harrison made a chronometer for this purpose* 
which varied only two minutes in four months, and received 
the reward. The act was repealed in 1828. The board of 
Longitude, the Nautical Almanac office, and the Royal 
Observatory, are devoted to this important problem. 

Many of the oid seamen are still prejudiced in favour of 


working the ibip by tba dead reckoning, ind look npoa tha 
aid of aslroaamj and the chronometer' with ■uipieioa. It 
it relatod Ibat, some yean ago, during thswarwith France, 
an oMcer haviag for tha flrtt time brought a chronometer 
on board, the lallon regarded it ai an omen of ill luck ; 
and it *o happened that, the veuel being out cruiting fbr 

Siiei, nothing Jell in their way for a long time, which un- 
rlunate cireumit«nce was referred to iha luokleu chro- 
Moneter. Soma desperadocB on board determined, in 
coniequence, to pilfer tho chronometer and coniign it to 
tiie bottom of the aea, which they did; and, hlling in with 
■ome prize* ahortlf after, which they took, they congratu- 
lated tbemselvet on their escape from all malign inBuenoet. 

The experienced mariner i* alio versed in many other 
thinga, which our limita will not allow ua to dwell upon ; 
•uch oa the itate of the sea in different parts of the world, 
the nature of tidea and winds, the coaats, floatinga of weeds, 
flights of birds, the state of the barometer, &c 

It is related, for^instajice, that the captain of a vessel, 
titting in his cabin one day, while bis ship wai gliding 
■long the Indian sea under fuU sail, obMrred the mercury 
of his barometer to sink rapidly and almost at once- 
Knowing that a partial vacuum in the atmosphere preceded 
a dreadful storm in the tropical climates, he immediately 
ordered ail the sails to be furled. The order was obeyed 

pleted, ere the most awful storm fell upon them that ever 
ship enceuntered ; and they bad mly consulted their aafaty 
in the nick of time by taking in their canvass. It is fur. 
ther stated that several ships in the neighbourhood met the 
sudden storm without having prepared themselves to with- 
stand its fury, and were consequently wrecked. 

We will conclude this paper with a pleasing anecdote, 
related by Captain Basil Hall, to show the neoessity for 
niidsbipmen and officers being ready and expert at ob- 
aerving, not only the sun, but the stars likewise, (or their 
latitude ; and these too in almost all weathers : for it often 
happens that the latitude and time on board ship cannot be 
obtnined by a meridian altitude of the sun, in consequence 
of clouds ; but it seldom happen* that the liin and Stan «• 
all obscured long together. 

"We were running for tha British Channel before a hard 
south-west gale, and it wai of considerable importance that 
we should reach some port in Sngland without delay, for 
we were not only charged with deipalcbes, but were very 
short of proviMon* and water. The only chronometer I had 
on board happened not to be very good, and the sky had 
been completely overcast ftir more than a week before, that 
we could take no lunars. Thua I felt unoartaio at my 
longitude, to the extent of a degree at least ; and all who 
bave tried the experiment, know what a nervous thing it i* 
to run in for the land in the dark, and in atormy weather, 
when the ship's place is not correctly known. But I fblt 
exceedingly loath to lose so magniBcent a wind, before 
which we spun along at the rate of ten knots, under a reefed 
fbreiail and close-reefed maintopsail. Aa long as daylight 
lasted, I felt very confldent and bold about the matter; but 
M night oloied in, the doubts and difficulties of the Channel 
navigaiian crowded round my thoughts, and almost detail 
mined me to bring the ship to, and wait toe the dawn. 
After poring for a long while over the chart, however, I 
aatisfled myself that if, by any means, I could be sure of 
keeping in the latitude of 50)*, or within ten or a dozen 
miles on either tide of that parallel, I should have clear 
ground to run over for three degrees of louKitude at least, 
greatly witlun which, I felt sure that the error of my 
chronometer must lie. But how was I to determine tbit 
point with any degree of certainty in such weather? The 
sky had not stiowea a patch of blue at large a* my hand for 
several days, and though the sun had been seen through tha 
clouds occasionally, we bad not tueoeeded in catomng a 
meridian observation. 

" In this dilemma, I bethought me of the pole star, pro- 
verbially the marioer's friend, and having fixed my textant 
by the cabin light at the angle about which I knew the 
latitude must give the altitude of the pole, I cast mv boat- 
oloak over my shoulder and went on deck. There I 
stationed myself on the larboard tide of the quarter-deek, 
with the instrument sheltered from the rain and spray 
under the cloak, and grasped in my right hand, while I 
kept my eye Sxed on that part of the heavens in which I 
hop«d, at some momentary openinK, to detect the bright 
star of my night's fartunet. I bad to wait more than an 
hour beKiro there occun«d anything like a chance; by 

which time my limbs had become cramped and stiffteed by 
the constraint of one poitara, while my eye acbed and 
throbbed with its vain attempta to pierce tha thick couriet 
of cloud 1 sweeping pasL 

"At last I did get tight of the atar for three or four 
seconds, and though it glimmered so faintly through the 
mist that it could hardly have been identified aa Polaris 
even by Sir James South himself, I knew, by its altitude, 
that it must be tbe object I was watching for. The horiioa 
was but a shabby one, indistinctljr seen iu the dark, and 
backed by the toppiitg waves Uka th« Sierra Hotena, 
Neverthelest I succeeded in bringing the star in eoutsct 
with the edge of tbe sea in the north, when, fottunatdy, 
there chanced at that moment to occur a faiat gleam in tba 
lower atmosphere. I ton below, read off tha angle, com- 
puted tbe latitude, and found it not more than twenty miles 
from what 1 had expected, and quite enough to keep ths 
ship safe for some hours' run. But aa one insulated ob- 
servation, made under such circumstance*, could not be de- 
pended upon, I battened on deck again, and presently— 
that is in less than half an Hour — caught a leocmd glimpse 
of my friendlv lighthouse in the *ky. The result agieed 
with that of uie Qr*t observation wiuiia ten mile*, and U 
course gave me greater confidence. 

" StiU as the night was dark, the horiion bad, and tbe 
observation* hotb to the north, I could not rely upon then 
to the extent which was desirable, I may tay indispensable, 
in running for the Channel in such a night, and at tuch a 
rate. So 1 caat about to fish for a star oa tbe soutbem tide 
<^ the lenith, and was rejoiced to Bud that a brilliaat 
planet, either Jupiter or Saturn, I forget which, came to tba 
meridian before midnight. On deck I went again, sextact 
in band, and although I poisessed no very certain mcau of 
telling < the time at ^ip,' 1 watched for the plan^ and 
caught it for a moment, not very far from tbe meridian, at 
I knew by the * compass bearing.' With a flushed cheek, 
and hand trembling to that I could hardly hold the pencil, 
I worked out tbe latitude, and found it to differ from ths 
mean of the two results by the pole-star rather less thin 
twentv miles. A second cast at the planet, after it bad 
paased the meridian a few minutes, gave, when properly re- 
duced, a latitude which differed only five or six miles liom 
the flrtL Putting all thete observationt together,.! felt 
quite certain that the ship's path lay within the limits 
marked alons the chart as a safe track, and, having given 
order* to shake out a reef, preiaed fbrward as fast a* masts, 
yards, and hull would bear. 

" ne -ever-weloome dawn at lenf^ a^pMred, and Dot 
long afterwards I had tba infinite satisfaotion of discovering 
from the deck the well-known Lisard Point, with its tm 
lightbousBs, streaming with the ttight'i rain, one above the 
other, and shining brightly in "" " 

la our next paper we shall conclude tbe sutgect of NaTI- 
GATioN, with an account of tbe origin, rise, and prognu 
of Steam Navigation. 


^v^^lmag M^Q^^int^ 



F m DDKX or BucKiiraBAx, DiicorEXBD m 


Tontispiece, which is prcKnted above to oar 
s, gives ■ view of the kitchen of an ion in 
ury, in which, while Bome repBira and alteratiuns 
wing made, a skeleton, in the condition shown 
; picture, was discovered beneath the floor of 
artnient, which is oa a level with the ground, 
r of the appearance of the figure, together with 
lartment, was made, and published in Salisbury 
•. J, M. CuUam, — of which view, with his per- 
O, we have token a copy. These human re- 
are, with good reason, supposed to have 
^d to that Duke of Buckingham, who was a 
l^ished figure in the troublous times of Richard 
lird. We will, therefore, give a short historical 
at of this unfortunate nobleman. 
: Duke of Gloucester, being bd ambitious and 
ling man, felt a great longing to arnve at the 
ngn power ; and giving way to these feelings of 
ion, he scrupled not to perpetrate any acts 
wonld lesd to the consummation of his wishes, 
hike of Clarence, on elder brother, was taken 
L. XIV. 

off by violence daring the lifie-time of the oldest of 
these brothers, Edward the Fourth. King Henrjr 
the Sixth and his son had died violent deaths, mainlr 
through the instrumentality, as it is believed, of the 
Duke of Gloucester. King Edward the Fourth 
dying, left two Bona, Edward the Fifth, and a younger 
brother, the Dake of York. The former being only 
thirteen years old at his accession to the throne, the 
kingdom was placed under the protectorBhip of tha 
Duke of Gloucester, until the young king should 
arrive of age. As wickedness asually proceeds by 
degrees, the young princes were at first ttt atUe, with 
a view to Richard's being, as it were, elected to the 
throne. The Duke of Gloucester sou^t to make 
friends wherever he could; and among others, ho 
succeeded in engaging the advice and assistance of 
the Duke of Buckingham, a populsr noblentaa of 
the time, and the subject of this memoir. Those 
whom he could not detach from the interest of the 
young but rightful monarch, and whose names and 
iufloence were potent, he caused to be put ta (Im!^ 



[April 6, 

for specious and alleged crimes. The Duke of 
Buckingham having undertaken the cause of Richard, 
with the hope and promise made him of great rewards 
and favour from the monarch to be raised to the 
throne by his influence, used a variety of arguments, 
hollow and deceitful, though adapted to catch the 
fancy of the populace, with the view to make the 
question of setting aside Edward, not merely proper 
and desirable, but just and necessary. We are told 
that he used every art to cajole the citizens and other 
influential people of London to espouse openly the 
cause of the Protector, but that they neither saw the 
justice of Richard's pretensions, nor could they ven- 
ture to express their dissent. The duke, therefore, 
forced himself to construe their silence into con- 
sent; and his followers, who had mixed themselves 
among the crowd, threw up their craps and shouted 
out '' Long live King Richard!** This was sufRcient 
warrant for the mayor and aldermen, at the instiga- 
tion of Buckingham, to wait upon the protector and 
implore his acceptance of the crown. This desire, 
we are further told, was yielded to, with seeming 

Richard* s earliest care, when he had attamed the 
kingly power, was to cause the young princes to be 
privately put to death. Whether in relation to this 
foul and nefarious deed, or that the king did not 
fulfil the promises to Buckingham which he had 
made to engage his assistance, or whether the duke 
was vexed at both these circumstances,— coolness and 
distrust rose up between the sovereign and Bucking- 
ham, which proceeded so far, that the latter, in dread 
of the fornier, fled to his feudal domains in Wales, 
where he assembled his followers, and endeavoured 
to excite an insurrection against Richard. With the 
body of men whom he had levied, he passed through 
the forest of Dean, and advanced by hasty marches 
towards Gloucester, where he designed to cross the 
Severn. Just at that time, however, the river was 
swollen to such a degree, that the country on both 
sides was deluged, and even the tops of some hills 
were covered with water. This inundation continued 
for ten days, during which time Buckingham*8 army 
could neither pass the river, nor find subsistence on 
their own side : they were therefore obliged to dis- 
perse and return home, notwithstanding all the 
duke*s efforts to prolong their stay. This flood was 
for a long time after called " Buckingham's flood.** 
The king was at this time proceeding towards Salis- 
bury with a large army, intending to come round 
upon Buckingham from the south, and was about 
two days' journey from that city when he heard of 
Buckingham's disasters. A proclamation was im- 
mediately issued, which offered a reward of 1000/. 
to any person who should give such information as 
would lead to the apprehension of the duke. In the 
helpless situation, in which the duke was after the 
secession of his followers, he resolved, upon delibe- 
ration, to take refuge at the house of a person named 
Humphrey Bannister, who lived near Shrewsbury, 
and who had once been his servant, and had received 
repeated obligations from the family: but this per- 
son, being unable to resist the temptation of the 
reward set upon the duke's head, went and betrayed 
him to John Milton, the sheriff of Shropshire, who 
apprehended the duke, while digging in a grove near 
Bannister's house, disguised as a poor countryman. 
He was instantly conveyed to Shrewsbury and ex- 
amined, whence, under a strong guard, he was con- 
veyed to Richard, who had by this time reached 
Salisbury. It is said that Buckingham earnestly 
desired to be admitted to the presence of the king, 
Mnd that he purposed to stab him with a knife, which 

he had secreted about his person, while in the act of 
kneeling before him. But he had no sooner arrived 
at Salisbury than, without seeing the king, he was 
condemned and executed in a summary way, without 
form of trial, on a new scaffold, erected in the mar- 
ket-place of Salisbury. 

Tradition assigns the court-yard of the Blue Boar 
inn as the scene of this bloody tragedy -, but great 
uncertainty seems always to have prevailed as to tlie 
spot where the mutilated remains of this unfortunate 
nobleman were finally deposited. It is supposed that 
the head and right arm, after having been submitted 
to the personal inspection of the king, then resident 
at " the king*s house" in the Close^ were sent to 
London to be affixed to Temple Bar^ or exposed on 
Tower Hill, as was commonly used to be done in 
those times. A tomb in the north chantry of St. 
Thomas*s Church, Salisbury, was once supposed to 
contain the remains of Buckingham j and another 
in Britford Church, near Salisbury, obtained a similar 
reputation : but sufficient evidence has been found to 
show that these were only monmnents to his memory; 
and no indications, leading to probability^ however, 
have ever appeared, to point out the place of sepulture 
of the Duke of Buckingham, till the discovery took 
place, which is represented in our frontispiece. 

The Saracen's head inn, (owing to the pecnliar 
contiguity of the two places,) is supposed to hare 
once formed part of the premise! attached to those 
of the Blue Boar. The grave, therefore, of the duke 
was probably made only a few yards, possibly fee^ 
from the spot where he sufrered deaq>itation. Tlxe 
skeleton was found about eight inches below the 
surface of the soil. The spinal column appeared 
embedded in the clay, and, on taking up some of the 
detached vertebne, they crumbled to dust in the 
hands. All the remains were in a like friable con- 
dition. In fact, the condition of these remnants of 
mortality forcibly reminds us of the pulverable and 
loosely adhering state, in which the remains of King 
Charles the First were found, hi the year 1813. Till 
that time, it had never been known where the body 
of this unfortunate king was deposited; and the 
coffin, containing his remains, was only discovered by 
some workmen at Windsor Castle, while engaged ia 
making repairs. By permission of the Prince Regent, 
and in his presence. Sir Henry Halford opened the 
coffin, and examined the body ; which, as far as it 
was examined, not only dispelled all doubt as to the 
identity of it with Charles the First, but appeared in 
the same friable condition as the bones found in the 
clay beneath the floor of the Saracen*s head ioA 
at Salisbury. 

The memorials of antiquity famish a useful leiWHi 
to the contemplative mind, whether they come dovn ; 
to us in pomp and grandeur, or in sadness and btt- 
mility. They teach us that we ourselves shall, i& 
like manner, pass away; and that either in ourselveft 
or in our works, we shall serve as memorials fof 
those who are to follow. The Duke of Buckinc^itf^ 
was both the tool and the victim of his sovereign; ] 
and, as both proceeded in wickedness, so the end o* | 
both was in disgrace and sorrow. It behoves ^ j 
therefore, to profit by their example, and to ]s^ I 
that safety no longer exists for us, when we bt^ i 
once started aside from the straight path of rectitude* 

If we would but deny ourselves sometimes in unneeefftTf 
desires, even when it is in our hands to humour ourseltcii 
and gratify our desires, it would be of excellent use; fc( 
we must remember, that as long as the things of this world 
are empty and finite, our trouble will not end by satisfyingi 
but by ceasing our desires. — Bishop Patrick. 





Tbv number of the Edinbargb Review for January, 
1 837, contains an article which will excite not a little 
astonishment — an account of the exertions of the 
British Government in India to put down the most 
formidable combination of murderers of which there 
is any instance in the history of the world. From 
the overwhelming evidence, it appears that there has 
flourished alike under Hindu, Mahommedan, and 
British rulers, a vast fraternity of murderers, consisting 
of many thousands of persons, which has spread its 
ramifications over the whole of India, from Cape Co- 
jDorin to the Himalayas; and yet, though it has 
every year destroyed multitudes of victims, its consti- 
totion, nay its very being, have been quite uuknown 
to the most active and vigilant English functionaries, 
and very imperfectly understood even by the native 
governments. The book from which the article is 
drawn up is a collection of official papers, printed by 
the Indian Government, for the information of its 
officers, but never published ) and the writer of the 
Edinburgh Review has conferred no small favour on 
the public by digesting into one connected statement 
the many interesting fadts disclosed in a work inac- 
cessible to common readers, and which, even if acces- 
sible, might, from want of arrangement, be in a great 
measure onintelligible to them. 

These extraordinary persons are called Thugs, and 
their profession is called Thuggee. They travel along 
the roads under various assumed characters, in 
parties varying from ten or twelve, to several hun- 
dreds, appearing as traders, as pilgrims, as Sepoys 
seeking or returning from service; and sometimes 
one of their number figures as a raja, with all the 
necessary equipments of tents, carriages, &c., and the 
rest act the part of his obsequious followers. If the 
gang be numerous, they divide into parties, following 
each other at some distance, or take different routes, 
assembling at an appointed place. They insinuate 
themselves into the confidence of travellers, with whom 
they usually propose to join company, for mutual 
safety; proper places are selected for the murder, and 
precautions taken against intrusion : — 

The travellers are generally induced to sit down, under 
pretence of resting themselves, and they are strangled at 
onoe, at a given signal. The bodies are then burned, after 
having been mangled to expedite dissolution* and to pre- 
vent their swelling, and causing cracks in the ground. Two 
Thugs are employed in the murder of each individual, one 
of whom holds his legs or hands, while the other applies 
the noose. If a traveUer have a dog, it is also killed, lest 
the faithful animal should cause the discovery of the body 
sf its murdered master. 

The disclosures which were made on the appre- 
hension of a large gang of Thugs by Major Borthwick 
inMalwa, in 1831, attracted Lord William Bentinck's 
attention to the subject, and a system was organized 
by him, for the general suppression of the monstrous 
evil. Jubbulpoor was fixed on as the centre of ope- 
rations; Captain Sleeman was appointed superinten- 
dent, with a number of European assistants, and the 
eo-operation of the native states was engaged. Up 
to October, 1835, there had been committed 1562 
persons, of whom 362 had been hanged, and 986 
transported or imprisoned for life. It is only through 
the British supremacy in India that the Thugs can be 
suppressed, for, strange as it may seem, they are most 
religious and respectable persons. The fraternity has, 
indeed, a religious foundation, and the miscreants 
believe that in robbing and murdering, agreeably to 
their rules, they are rendering an acceptable service 
to the Deity. To the Thugs, murder is an act of 
religion, just as much as the practice of charity is 
to a christian) and indeed when the omens are 

fiavourable, to refuse to murder would be to disobey 
the will of the I>eity. 

Murderers in Europe have the consciousness of 
guilt, and the bond of union between guilty men is 
loQse i but these Hindoo murderers consider them- 
selves as virtuous and good men. One of the wit- 
nesses says, "The father (a noted Thug) used to 
drink very hard, and in his fits of intoxication he 
used to neglect his prayers and his days of fast. All 
days were the same to him. This lad, Shumsheera, 
(also a Thug,) was always sober and religiously dis- 
posed, and separated from his father, living always 
with his uncle Dondee, (another Thug,) who was a 
very worthy and good man," Captain Sleeman says of 
them, that " no men observe more strictly in domestic 
life all that is enjoined by their priests, or demanded 
by their respective castes -, nor do any men cultivate 
with more care the esteem of their neighbours, or 
court with more assiduity the good will of all consti- 
tuted local authorities. In short, to men who do not 
know them, the principal members of these associa- 
tions will always appear to be among the most 
amiable, most respectable, and most intelligent mem- 
bers of the lower, and sometimes the middle and 
higher, classes of native society; and it is by no 
means to be inferred that every man who attempts to 
screen them from justice knows them to be monsters." 
In short, soldiers fighting in their country's cause 
could not be less conscious of doing wrong; they 
are satisfied that they are performing nothing more 
than their duty in putting their fellow creatures to 

In England, respectability is often at variance with 
religion. Ikey Solomons, had he not been prema- 
turely disposed of, would have been, like other suc- 
cessful and rich men, respectable ; but no one would 
have thought him religious. The Thugs, however, 
not only rqh and murder, but are religious as well as 
respectable. That religion, which encourages whole- 
sale murder and robbery, is a great calamity to the 
country where it prevails, and the only question with 
respect to the suppression of it must be one of power 
and pmdence. 



Tis meny to hear at evening time, 
By the blazing hearth, the sleigh-bdb* chhne*, 
And to know each bound of the steed brings nigher 
Hie friend for whom we have heaped the firob 
Light leap our hearts, while the listening hoimd 
Springs forth- to hail him with berk and boviid, 

'Tis he! and blithely the gay bells somid, 
Ab his sleigh glides over me firozen ground* 
Hark ! he has paased the dark pine wood. 
And skims like a bird o*er the ioe-bonnd flood. 
Now he catches the gleam fix>m the cabin door. 
Which tells that his toilsome journey's o'er. 

Our cabin is small, and coarse our cheer, 
But love has spread the banquet here; 
And childhood springs to be carened 
By our well-beloved and welcome guest. 
With a smilinff fiice his tale he teUs, 
While the unmins ring the meny sleigh-bellik 

From the oedar swamp the gaunt wolves howl^ 
From the hollow oak loud whoops the owl, 
Scared by the crash of the &Uing tree ; 
But these sounds bring terror no more to me. 
No longer I listen with boding fear 
The sleigh-bell*s distant chime to hear. 

* The hones in the sleighs or carrioles have small hells hung on 
the harness, the sound of which is cheering to the animal as well as 
to his master. In a frosty night, sound is rapidly and extensively coa 
ve^ad to an anxious and listening ear, and the tinUa of the distaat 
sleigh-bell may well be thought muncal* 




The JDventioa of these uieful articles is of very 
great aatiqnity, but the specitneDs which have been 
haaded down to ns, of course bear no comparison with 
the efforts of modem mechanism. Taking the vast 
utility of the lock is somewhatsin- 
giilar that the first attempt to construct one on really 
scientific principles, dates back no further than 1778. 
A note in Beloe's tranilation of Herodotos, says : — 

Before the use of locks, it wbi the cuitom in mars an^nt 
times to secure things with knots; of these some were so 
difficult, that he alone who preserred the secret, nos oble to 
unravel them. The ramoui Gordian knot must be knoirn 
ta every one ; this usage is often alio alluded to by Homer. 

Then beading with TuU force, around he rolled 

A libirinth of handi, in fold on fold, 

Clowd with CiicKiQ tn. 

However this may be, several articles of Egyptian 
antiquities that have been recently 
k found, bear a strong resemblance to 
^ a rude sort of key j fig. 1 and 2 are 
^_ in the British Museum, and made of 
ML W brass or bronze. A very ingenious 

Vl m description of lock is figured in 

^^^» B Denon's celebrated work on Egypt, 

^^H I which is at present in great use in 

^^H I Turkey and other parts of the east. 

^^V I According to onr author it has been 

in use for four thousand years, and 
he endeavours to prove this by re- 
ference to a sculpture in the tem- 
ple of Kamak, which he supposes 
represents this lock. If this is the 
case, the Egyptians possessed an 
article more secure in principle than 
it of our common locks with wards. 
Figs. 3 and 4 represent its construction. Fig. 3 is 
a vertical section of the lock; a is the bolt, and 
B B the body of the lock ; in the upper part of the 
body any number of loose pins, with heads, are 
placed in as many chambers, sufficiently large to 
bUow them to be moved up and down freely, and yet 
steadily. The bolt a has an equal number of holes 
to receive these pins, reaching bnlf way throngh its 
substance ; we will suppose now the bolt to be suffi- 
ciently thmst out to have entered the staple, the lock 
is consequently locked, for the pins have entered the 
holes in the bolt, and prevent its being moved either 
backwards or forwards. Fig. 4 represents the key, 

the upper part of which is furnished with a nupiber 
of pins, exactly fitting the holes in the bolt; the 
lower half of the bolt is perfin-ated with a square 
hole at c, sufficiently large to admit the key and its 
pins j when these are immediately under the loose 
pins which fasten the bolt, they can be caused to 
tiuiitt them out of the boles they occupy, and allow 

the bolt to be withdrawn : the nninlKr of Qieaa put 
in the above diagram is supposed to be six. To pick 
this lock it is evidently necessary to know the posi< 
tion of the pins in the interior, and the length irf' the 
holes in the bolt. To discover these facta woi^ be 
a work of great labour, and consequently a lode on 
this construction would be extremely difficult to pik. 
Figs. 5, 6, 7, and 6, represent ancient keys d 
Roman and British manufacture } fig, 9 appean to 
be the staple of an ancient lock. 

The locks of modem times, previous to 1778, 
were of two descriptions, namely, those funiishtd 
with fixed wards and a spring, and those with wsidl 
and a tumbler instead of the spring. 

Fig. 1 is a common, or spring lock ; in this esii 
A B is the bolt passing through the frame of the lockl 
the spring is seen at a, 
and is a portion of the 
bolt itself j the key seen in 
the centre, when turned 
in either direction, if it 
is in contact with the 
lower part of the bolt, 

lock or unlock it. The wards which are seen rooad 

it are circular strips of iron, some placed on ou 

plate of the box and some ontheotberj thekeyil 

cut in such a manner as to pass these wards in tbc 

course of its revolution. It would seem that tin 

number of the wards, and their form, would prew* 

a lock being opened by any but a key cut to iccdtt 

them; but this is not necessary ; for all that is i^ 

quired is to cut away ho much of the key as irill 

allow it to span the wards ; — for 

instance, fig. 11 is a key cut in 

a very intricate manner, but all 

the complicated wards to which 

it is adapted, can be passed by a 

key shaped like fig. 12, The 

next engraving, fig, 13, shows 

the construction of a lock with 

a tumbler. In this case the bolt 

is moved by the key in the usual 

way, hut immediately behind it 

a piece of iron is placed, called a 

tumbler, pressed downwards by 

means of a spring, and tnming 

on a centre at A-, the shape of the tamUer cut b> j 

Fin. II. 




seen by tke dotted line. 

Tig. 13, 

At the extremity farthest 
from A is a square stad^ 
ivhich alternately drops 
into^ and is lifted out 
of, one or the other of 
the two notches in the 
upper part of the bolt, 
so as to prevent it being 
forced back when locked, 
or thrown forward when unlocked, without the assist- 
ance of the key. In the engraving the bolt is half- 
shot In this particular it has an advantage over the 
spring-lock, the lock of which can be forced back- 
wards or forwards without the assistance of a key, 
but this lock also can be easily picked. . 

In 1778 Mr. Barron invented a lock, still much in 
use, greatly superior to those manufactured at that 
time ; he employed two or more tumblers, each of 
which was provided with a stud. The engraving, 
fig. 14, represents the bolt of the lock ; it is cut out 
in such a manner as to be moved by the key, when 

Fig. li.!l|»i.l.i^li;i,i;Slltl,,:iill!,;v;iJ!f!.!M.i;,;:j'|]M' 


Fir i& 

the studs ot the tumblers are lifted to a certain 
height; but as the tumblers are made of di£ferent 
widths, the bit, or end of the key, must project more 
or less in different parts, to raise the studs of the 
tumblers to the same height exactly, at the same 
instant i if this is not very accurately managed, one 
or other of the studs will be either caught in one of 
the upper notches of the bolt, or not disengaged from 
the lower. The bit of the key is formed as in fig. 15. 

The arraugement of the wards 
of this lock, as shown in the 
key, materially interferes with 
any attempt that may be made 
to pick it ; and the greater the 
number of the tumblers, the 
more difficult still is the opera- 
tion. Locks on this construc- 
tion are considered the safest of 
any that are manufactured, if 
we except those made according 
to Bramah*8 Patent. There are several other descrip- 
tions of locks^ which we shall describe in a future 


By the written records of China, we are told that the 
art of converting to their own advantage the labours 
of the Silk-worm, was known and practised among 
them 2700 years before the Christian era. Among 
all the costly materials gathered from various coun- 
tries for the embellishment of the celebrated Temple 
of Solomon, no mention is made of SiUc, nor yet on 
the rebuilding of the temple after the captivity. 

The victorious army of Alexander the Great brought 
home, among other Eastern luxuries, wrought silks 
from Persia ; and Aristotle certainly gives the best 
account of the Silk- worm that is to be found in any 
ancient author, describing it as a horned worm which 
passes through several transformations : he fails to 
indicate the country of its origin. Pliny, whose 
writings afford evidence of so much erudition, has 
given an account of the Silk- worm, and assigns 
Assyria as its native country. 

Silk was very little known in Europe before the 

reign of Augustus, and during a long succeeding 
period it remained extremely costly, only a. small 
quantity reaching the imperial city by a circuitous 
and expensive land and water carriage. The in- 
creasing luxury of the Roman people caused the 
demand for silk manufacture to increase much faster 
than the supply, and the price became exorbitantly 

Two monks, engaged as missionaries in China, 
succeeded in obtaining a quantity of silk- worms* eggs, 
which they concealed in a hollow cane 5 and at length 
in the year 552,* they conveyed them in safety to 
Constantinople. The eggs were hatched in the proper' 
season by the warmth of manure 5 and the worms 
were fed with the leaves of the wild mulberry-tree. 
These worms in due time spun their silk, and propa- 
gated under the careful tendance of the monks, who 
also instructed the Romans in the whole process of 
manufacturing their production. The insects thus 
produced were the progenitors of the generations of 
silk-worms which have since been reared in Europe 
and the western parts of Asia. 

Thus, a caneful of the eggs of an. oriental insect 
became the means of establishing a manufacture 
which fashion and luxury have rendered so important. 

The mulberry- tree was then eagerly planted in 
Europe, for the nourishment of these valuable insect 
labourers J and on this, their natural food, they were, 
successfully reared in different parts of Greece. 

The Venetians soon after this time opened coiii<. 
mercial relations with the Greek empire, and con- 
tinued for many centuries the channel for supplying 
the western parts of Europe with silks. The estima- 
tion in which this manufacture was held, continued 
sufficiently high for it to be considered worthy of being 
made a regal gift : it appears that in the year 790, 
the Emperor Charlemagne, gave two silken vests to 
Offa, king of Mercia. 
P Although at this period the Roman empire 

^Tdd ^^ ^^^^ declining, they alone possessed 
m 1 140. ^g valuable breed of silk- worms, which 600. 
years before had been transferred from the remotest - 
extremity of the East ; and none others had manu- 
factured its costly spoils. Roger I., king of Sicily, 
led into captivity a considerable number of silk-: 
weavers, whom he compulsorily settled in Palermo,, 
obliging them to impart to his subjects the know-, 
led^ of their art. In twenty years from this forcible 
establishment of the manufacture, the silks of Italy. 
are described as having obtained a decided excellence, 
being of diversified patterns and colors ; some fan- 
cifully interwoven with gold. By degrees the manu- 
facture spread over the greater part of Italy, and was 
carried into Spain 3 and in the reign of Francis I.^ 
took root in France. 

A still longer interval occurred before its adoption 
into England, and its introduction was very slow, 
till the beginning of the sixteenth century. Bologna 
was the only city of Italy which possessed proper 
throwing mills, or the machinery necessary for twist- 
ing and preparing silken fibres for weaving 

The business of a silk-factory was considered a 
noble employment in Venice, and might be followed 
without degradation by the higher classes. 

The silk trade made very little progress in France 
till the reign of Francis I., who procured artisans 
from Milan, and introduced them into Lyons. The 
French then made rapid progress in this pursuit; 
and, in addition to those of Lyons, many manufac- 
tories were speedily started in the southern provinces; 
supplying sufficient for their own consumption, and 

isoon afterwards a superabundance for competition in 
foreign markets ; furnishing many parts of Europe 




vith the fruits of their newly- cultivated art ; deriving 
great wealth from prosecuting this branch of trade 
with England. Queen Elizabeth, in the third year 
of her reign, 1560, was gratified by being presented 
with a pair of knitted black silk stockings by Mrs. 
Montague, her silk woman j at which she was so 
delighted that she never afterwards condescended to 
wear those of cloth. Sir Thomas Gresham presented 
Edward the Sixth with a pair of long Spanish silk 
stockings, and, from their rarity, this offering was 
deemed worthy of much notice. 

When Antwerp was captured by the Duke of 
Parma, in 1585, it was consigned during three days 
to indiscriminate plunder and destruction -, and about 
a third part of their artisans and merchants who 
wrought and dealt in silk, took refuge in England, 
where they finally settled, and taught those arts by 
which they had long prospered in their native land, 
by which means the manufacture was materially im- 
proved in this country. 

Every attempt at rearing silk-worms and pro- 
ducing silk having, after endless trials, failed, attention 
was directed to the establishments for producing both 
raw and wrought silks in the settlements at British 
India 5 where proximity to the country of its original 
production, the fitness of the climate, and, above all, 
the cheapness of labour, have contributed to insure 
complete success. The island of Cossimbuzar and 
its neighbourhood, in the province of Bengal, are 
particularly favourable to the labours of the silk- 
worm. There are at this time eight principal silk 
filatures, the produce of eight factories, belonging to 
the East India Company, in Bengal. In every filature 
there are employed, according to its size, from 3000 
to 10,000 people j and if to these were added the 
mulberry-planters, worm-feeders, &c., the number 
dependent on each establishment, would be from 
10,000 to 40,000 men, women, and children. Silk 
requires so much care and attention for its produc- 
tion, and so great a number of persons must be em- 
ployed in an establishment for rearing silk- worms, 
that it is only in countries where the number of the 
poorer classes is in great proportion to capital, and 
therefore labour very cheap, that silk can be reared 
at an expense which offers successfully to compete 
with other countries. The silk, consumed in England 
alone, exceeds four millions of pounds in a year. 
Fourteen thousand millions of animated creatures 
annually live and die to supply this little comer of 
the world with an article of luxury. The importa- 
tion of raw silk from China in 1829 amounted to 
600,000 lbs. 

A Lyons newspaper m 1812 states that there were 
10,720 looms, employing 15,506 workmen. In 1824 
there were 24,000 looms employing 36,000 hands. 

In the year 1 685, the revocation of the edicts of 
Nantes compelled many merchants, manufacturers, 
and artificers, to fly from France. About 70,000 
made their way to England and Ireland j many of 
them resorted to Spitalfields, contributing much by 
their knowledge and skill to the improvement of the 
silk manufacture. To them we are indebted for the 
art of manufacturing brocades, satins, black and 
coloured mantuas, black paduasoys, ducates, watered 
satins, and velvets, all of which fabrics had been im- 
ported up to the year 1718. Our machinery being 
very defective, we were in a great degree dependent 
on the throwsters of Italy for a supply of organzine j 
but at that time, Mr. Lombe, of Derby, having, in the 
disguise of a common workman, succeeded in taking 
accurate drawings of the throwing machinery in Pied- 
mont, erected a stupendous mill for that purpose on 
the river Derwent, at Derby, and obtained a patent 

for the sole and ezclnsive property in the same for 14 
years. This grand machine was constructed with 
26,586 wheels, and 97,746 movements, which worked 
73,726 yards of organzine thread with every revola- 
tion of the water-wheel, whereby the machinery wu 
actuated. So rapid was the growth of the silk tndi 
from this time, that in 1 783 the estimated valne of 
silk goods manufactured in England was S^&OfiOOL 
A great improvement had been effected (ten yean 
before, viz. 1 772) in Bengal raw silk. Better mi« 
chinery being brought into use on the Italian system, 
and competent persons employed as heads of each 
factory. The shipments about this period, being fnNB 
515,000 to 560,000 lbs., have steadily increased to 
1,500,000 lbs. annually. In Italy there is but om 
regular crop in the year ; while in Bengal there ire 
three at intervals of four months, March, July, and 


Still had she gaz*d ; but midst the tide 
Two angel forms were seen to glide. 

The Genii of the stream : 
Their scalar armour's Tyrian oue. 
Through richest purple to the view. 

Betray *d a golden gleam. 

These graceful ornaments of the drawing-room or 
conservatory are not natives of this country, but 
came originally from China and Japan, about the 
year 1691. They belong to the Carp tribe; con- 
cerning which we will say a few words, before «e 
speak of the gold and silver varieties of it. 

The common carp, q/prinus carpio, is furnished with 
four beards, and a forked tail. It was introduced into 
a fish-pond at Plumsted, in Sussex, towards the end 
of the fifteenth century^; but it is said to be fouiMi 
native in the lakes and ponds of Southern Europe, 
and very commonly in France and Germany. Va 
carp is the least carnivorous among fishes. It is very 
tenacious of Ufe, and can be carried alive over Itod 
for great distances. It has been frequently carried 
alive from Strasburgh to Paris, by keeping a litde wet 
moss in contact with the gill-lids ; and without even 
this simple precaution it will live for a long time oot 
of water. " And, doubtless,*' says Izaac Walton, "U 
of sea-fish, the herring dies soonest out of the water, 
and of fresh- water fish, the trout, so, except the ed, 
the carp endures most hardness, and lives longest out 
of his own proper element. And, therefore, the re- 
port of the carp's being brought out of a foreign 
country into this nation, is the more probable." 
One of the recent editors of this book says that it if 
a common practice in Holland to keep carp alive fiv 
three weeks or a month, by hanging them in a oool 
place, with wet moss in the mouth, and feeding them 
with bread and milk. 

The carp does not delight in troubled waters: it 
loves to haunt placid streams which steal along 
without any perceptible current ; such as the moati 
and trenches of old castles ; or retired shady pondfl^ 
where aquatic plants accumulate. It feeds upon these 
vegetables, and, from the quietness of its habits, it 
attains a great age. When very old its back becomes 
quite white. Gesner says, that a carp has been 
known to live in the Palatine above a hundred years. 

* In Sir Richard Baker^b Chronicle occun the followiai 
distich :~ 

" Hops and turkeys, carps and beer. 
Came into England all in a year." 

In some of the old editions of Isaac Walton, these veraes are found 
to run thus :— > 

*' Hops, reiormation, turkeys, carpe, and 
Came into England all in one year." . 




How this came to be known does not appear ; bat it 
reminds us of the story of the old lady, who, being 
told that the raven lives to the age of a hundred 
years, bought one on purpose to try. In 1782, a 
gentleman of Emanuel College, Cambridge, published 
an account of a carp which had inhabited a small 
artificial pond in the College for thirty-six years ; and 
that, although the fish had lost one eye, yet it knew, 
and would constantly swim up to its feeder. Carps 
are not timid, but rather fond of society ; and, as in 
the instance just given, they are so far capable of 
being educated, as to come and be fed at stated hours 
on being whistled to. There are immense numbers 
of this fish in the stilly part of the Rhine, near 
Strasburgh ; and vast quantities are sent annually to 

The food of the carp is animal, as well as vegetable. 
It eats worms and aquatic insects, and is also said to 
swallow the mud at the bottom of its abode for the 
sake of larve and seeds. Hence the flavour of its 
flesh depends upon the nature of its food. Walton 
says, in his usual quaint and amusing style, ''the 
tongues of carps are noted to be choice and costly 
meat, especially to them that buy them ; but Gesner 
says, carps have no tongue like other fish, but a piece 
of flesh like fish, in their mouth like to a tongue, and 
should be called a palate; but it is certain it is 
choicely good, and that the carp is to be reckoned 
among those leather-mouthed fish, which, I told you> 
have their teeth in their throat ; and for that reason 
he is very seldom lost by breaking his hold^ if your 
hook be once stuck in his chops.*' 

The general length of the carp is about two feet : 
specimens have, however^ been found of four feet in 

The frog is said to be the mortal enemy of the carp. 
Walton says, that a pond, well stocked with carp has 
been known to lose all its fish in a single summer, 
in consequence of the depredations of the frogs. He 
says that a "gentleman of tried honesty*' told him that 

He saw, in a hot day in Summer, a large carp swim 
near the top of the water, with a frog upon his head ; and 
that he upon that occasion caused his pond to be let dry ; 
and I say, of seventy or eighty carps, he only found five or 
six in the said pond, and those very sick and lean ; and 
with every one a frog, sticking so fast on the head of the 
said carps, that the frog could not he got off without ex- 
treme force or killing. 

And a person of honour, now living in Worcestershire, 
assured me he had seen a necklace, or collar of tad- 
poles, hang, like a chain, or necklace of heads, about a 
pike s neck, and so kill him ; whether it were for meat or 
malice, must be to me a question. 

Let us now speak of the gold and silver carp,— the 
Cyprinus Auratus, of Linnaeus. 

The former are -of an orange gold colour, with very 
shining scales, and finely variegated with black and 
dark brown. When young, its colour is dark brown 
or black, which is afterwards replaced by the orange 
gold hue. It is naturalized in this country, and in 
other parts of Europe, and breeds freely in warm and 
sheltered situations. Our supply is chiefly obtained 
from Portugal, where this fish abounds. The silver 
fish differs from the former only in colour, which is 
similar to silver tissue j it generally has scarlet fins, 
and is curiously marked in several parts of the body. 
Both varieties are also subject to variation in the 
fins, which are. occasionally double ; and specimens 
have been seen with triple tails, but such a develope- 
ment is generally at the expense of some other fin. 

When I happen to visit a family [says Gilbert White] 
where gold and silver fishes are kept in a glass bowl, I am 
always pleased with the oooorrenoey because it offers me 
an opportunity of observing the.acti^ni and propennities of 

those beings with whom we can be little acquainted in their 
natural state. Not long since I spent a fortnight at the 
house of a friend, where there was such a vivary, to which 
I paid no small attention, taking every occasion to remark 
what passed within its narrow limits. It was here that I 
first observed the manner in which fishes die. As soon as 
the creature siokens, the head sinks lower and lower, and 
it stands as it were on its head ; till, getting weaker, and 
losing all poise, the tail turns over* and at last it lloats on 
the surface of the water, with its belly uppermost. The 
reason whv fishes, when dead, swim in that manner is very 
obvious ; because when the body is no longer balanced by 
the fins of the belly, the broad muscular back preponderates 
by its own gravity, and turns the belly uppermost, as 
lighter, from its being a cavity, and because it contains the 
swimming bladders, which contribute to render it buoyant. 

Some that delight in gold and silver fishes, have 
adopted a notion that they need no aliment. True 
it is, that they will subsist for- a long time without 
any apparent food, but what they can collect from 
pure water, frequently changed $ yet they must draw 
some support from animalculfB, and other nourish- 
ment supplied by the water ; because, though they 
seem to eat nothing, yet indications of their having 
eaten are found in their glass abodes. That they are 
best pleased with wich jejune diet may easily be con- 
futed ; since, if you toss them crumbs they will seize 
them with great readiness, not to say greediness : 
however, bread should be given sparingly, lest, turn« 
ing sour, it corrupt the water. They will also feed 
on the aquatic pUmt called knma, or duck*s meat^ 
and also on smidl fry. 

Hawkins, the editor of Walton, says that fine gravel 
should be strewed at the bottom of the vessel con- 
taining the fish; " frequently changing the water, and 
feeding them with bread and gentles. Those who can 
take more pleasure in angling for, than in beholding 
them, which I confess I could never do, may catch 
them with gentles | but though costly, they are but 
coarse food.'* 

When they want to move a little [continues White] they 
gently protrude themselves with their pinnm pectorahs; 
but it ii with their strong muscular tails only that they, and 
all fishes, shoot along with such inconceivable rapidity. It 
has been said that the eyes of fishes are immoveable : but 
these apparenUy turn them forward or backward in their 
sockets, as their occasions require. They take little notice 
of a lighted candle, though applied close to their heads, 
but flounoe and seem much frightened by a sudden stroke 
of the hand against the support whereon the bowl is hong, 
especially when they have been motionless, and are per- 
haps asleep. As fishes have no eyelids, it is not easy to 
discern when they are sleeping or not, because their eyes 
are dways open. 

Nothing can be more amusing than a glass bowl, con- 
taining saoh fishes : the double refractions of the glass and 
water represent them when moving in a shifting and change- 
able variety of dimensions, shades* and colours; while the 
two mediums, assisted by the concavo-convex shape of the 
vessel, magnify and distort them vastly; not to mention that 
the introduction of another element and its inhabitants into 
our parlours engages the fancy in a very agreeable manner. 

Some people exhibit this sort of fish in a very fanciful 
way : for they cause a glass bowl to be blown with a large 
hollow space within, that does not communicate with it. In 
this cavity thsnr put a bird occasionally, so that you 
may see a goldfinch or a linnet, hopping as it were in the 
midst of the water, and the fishes swimming in a circle 
round it. The simple exhibition of the fishes is agreeable 
and pleasant ; bat in so complicated a way, becomes whim- 
sical and unnatural, and liable to the objection due to hioiy 
Qui variare cupit Mm prodigialitsr uoam*. 

A pleasant association connected with the subject 
of gold and silver fishes, is Gray's ode on the death 
of a favourite cat, drowned in attempting to catch 
them. One of the stanzas of this ode we have placed 
at the .head of this notice. 

• Who desires (O impart a moDstroui vanauonno an object. 



[April 6, 1839. 

TitK <ntst(ini »f mukiiig prustuta of rgga on parti- 
(ii'ular iK-cusiims is of great antiquity. In Roman 
Cuiliiilic ciinntries the custom prtivitils at Easter, 
when.' the allnaiou was evidently mi'snt to be to the 
Rcsurrcctiiin. la process of time, ulthuugh the cus- 
tom i^till continued, its origin was lost sight of, and a 
prevent of fggs, no longer considered as a sacred me- 
morial, became first a sign of friendship, and after- 
wards a token of affeelictn from one yimiig person to 
another. Dur engraving is cupieii frcmi an uld 
drawiug in the British Museum. 

All Ku'itcr cKd, Ihe which is siiwcJ open with o Due 
inslrumeiit nimlu fur (Iiul purpnse : tlie eliells wiiliiii are 
eluancd mid drivil, then Uiieil nith fiuildeil papur, and 
adoriieil with figures uf iJiiiils. iiia<Ie ot Ailk uml fiulil : they 
aru miuli: ta open aiii) vhut, and atii licil Iu(tether with rib- 
bon*. K|;irs uf this sun arc mii<le fur iireieiits to ladies of 
quahly. Ki)[. I is the inside Ahuwini; Ihu (i^urua, and Hg. 
S its uutsidf. Two cgt'* "f this dosrriptinn were tiresoiited 
on KaHtcr^dar, 171G, to the hcautil'ul \uun|;Lady Manfroni, 
of a very ani-fciit family, by Seiirtiior liernini, wlio soon after 
luarricd Iter. In Veiiiee, the Venetian noblemen present 
eict's to the ladies and nuiiti, ndomud witli their [Mrtraits 
curiiiutily limned thereon; and in Germany they have ways 
of ailurning eggH with fulia(;c and other devices, all in trans- 
parent work, which it cut out with aqtiafurlis. 

Figs. 1 and 2 arc rcpicscntations of an Easter 
Egg, very highly nmamented. Fig. 3 is an egg less 
carefully decorated, and not cnt open; it is ooe of 
several others rcpregented in the same volume, from 
which we have copied the foregoing; to these last 
eggs the following note iv upended. 

At the present day some remains of this custom 
are tn be fiitind in the north of England, some few 
of tile adepts even taking the pains to saw the shrlli 
in half; but the greatest number are distributed 
among the younger branches of the faintly by Ihtir 
grandmothers and aunts, who provide according to 
their means against the occasion. 

In Cheshire, children go round the village and beg 
e^a fur their Easter dinner; they accompany it 
with a fhort sung, begging for " an egg, baraa, 
cheese or on apple, or any good thing to make u 
merry," and ending with "and I pray you, eood 
dame, an Easter egg." In Cumberland and ntii- 
mureland the same custom prevails, and parck or 
paste eggs are reeiprocally sent from one friend to 
another. The mode of preparing the eggs ii by 
plunging thcin in hot water for a few nunutes, Rud 
then writing e name or drawing an ornament uu the 
shell with tallow -, the egg is then boiled in water cnn- 
taining any coloured dye in solution ; this eoluur 
wilt not attach itself to the shell in any part which 
has been covered with grease, and consequently dl 
the ornaments will appear white. Another metbcd 
which requires more skill and labour, ii to stihi 
the egg of an uniform colour, and scratch a4t tbe 
ornament or uamc by means of a pen-tcniftk 

The Easter eggs, which are stained of m nUfin 
colour, afford amusement to the children', ia'AWItof 
game in which the strength of the cgg-ahilfti Med. 
The boy holding an egg in his hand!, clnUciiia i 
companion to give blow for blow : ona pf «j»f fgpii 
sure to be broken, and its shattered rcnwtaf'ae the 
spoil of the conqueror, whose egg bmumi • coi> 
sequence in proportion to the number of tfoMi it bu 
escaped unbroken. To obtain an egg wldA, vbto 
boiled shall be as hard as possible, the bojn tie ii 
the habit of watching the hen when she Iqra, ttking 
the egg immediately from under her, Knd boJIiugitK 
once i by this means the white of the egg becoma 
harder than if it were boiled at a, fntnrc time. 

Eggs after the usage of Rome, painted of various colours, 
nnil adorned with figures and emblems. These on Easter-day, 
are earriod to church to the parish priests, who ble^s them 
and sprinkle them with holy water. On thnt day at dinner, 
the cloth is adorned with sweet herbs and Oowcrs, and the 
first thinj; that is eaten are these blessed enffs, which are 
painted by the nuns of Amelia, a small city abiiut thirty 
miles from Runic. The common suit of these oggi are all 
of i.m-, ns yellow, blue, red or purple, which arc sold in 
thci>lrcet»IillAECensiou-day, or Whitsuntide. Anno WIS. 

It may not be unimportant, occasionally, to view theMitni 
of die means, and lertility of the source*, whence thelw- 
tanial can draw his gratifications. 

In considering the (treat number of plants united by tDtb 
close alTiiiitieg, yet each one distitict from its congener, ibl 
mind can but be atron^ly impressed with the magnificeiei 
of that desipn of the divine Creator, of which we nereeiick 
a glimpse, in the detail of so inconsiderable a porllos il 
his care. It must bo kept in view that nature, in thltC 
gregate, presents us with unity of detiitn. We usui^f 
exniuinc ii-olalcd scraps, to compare their dlfiferance*; wbM 
howeier. we consider that all creation i* coroprehenM 
under one regularly graduated whole; that it exhibits, lUf 
by step, a progressive develupement, from the loweit quitilf 
of inorganic matter, up to man, the most perfect of ut- 
mated earthly cteature* : how utterly incapable are <■ rf 
tracing those gradations, and almost invisible disliaeti<M 
nhii'h lead from being to being, through the Bscendil| 
scale ot creotien ! 

Thcdc considerations Ehould be impressed on the ulB^ 
of the young naturalist. None ran comprehend all Ikl 
laws of nature, but (he outline of her works is more otnism 
We may read the index to her operations, ■libough lb* 
details are not unfrequently in secret characters. Hi 
whule may bo seen as composed of an alphabet of tioifl* 
elements — elements which combine into matter, aa letien 
into words ; matter combines into beings, as word* inB 
sentences ; and again, as series of sentences make cbaplsi* 
so series of beings constitute classes, and of these ibc ll- 
comprehensible book of creation is compiled, and perbcl^ 
by the hand of the original lawgiver. — Maund. 


ifwld l>y nil Bnakullen *ai Ncwnniltn la Ow Uaidam 

^a^turtra^H M^^^^im. 

N9 435. 

\3™, 1839. 



Sfrimghkao, I pleanntljr-ritQKted ipot, &bont a 
mile and a half from Northfleet, in Kent, close to 
the small and retired village of Swanscombe, is 
celebrated for the coltivation of Water -crtsaes for 
the supply of the London markets. The qnantity 
of this wholesome v^;etable grown ' expressly for 
the consumption of the metropolis, is mach more 
titeDsire than woold readily be believed. From 
Springhead alone two van loads of hampers, con- 
taining water-creas, are despatched every day during 
tbe Sammer, and every other day ia the Winter 

Springhead is the place, near Londoo, where the 
witer-cress was first made the object of cultivation ; 
it was afterwards grown at Mitcham, in Snrrey, bat 
tbe plantation at that place has been neglected. At 
Springhead about fonr acres of ground are occupied 
i>j tbe water-cresa. At Kckmansworth, and in the 
uighbourhood of Uxbridge, about fifteen acres are 
bid dawn for their growth, and near Waltham Abbey, 
ia Essex, about six acres ; but the London market 
recdves conttdcrahle supplies from places at a niuch 
greater distance, particularly from tbe neighbonrbood 
of Salisbtiry, whence they are despatched packed in 
ucks. The supply from the places we have already 
mentioned, is brought in hampers, and tied up in 
hnoches. The money received by tbe wholeeale 
dealers in London is calculated tu amount to ten 
thousand pounds a yearj on« vender alone, who has 

Vol. XIV. 

received a medal firom the Society of Arts for the 
improvement of water-cress, states his return at fif- 
teen hundred pounds a year. 

The attention paid to the growth of the cultivated 
water-cress, ensures its perfect freedom from the 
spawn of the small molluacoua animals which are 
found in ditches ; and which in the spring of tbe year, 
deters bo many from the enjoyment of this whole- 
some addition to tbe breakfast-table. 

At the places we have been describiog, the plant ia 
grown in rows on a gravelly bottom, over which a 
pure stream of clear water, a few inches deep, is 
constantly flowing : this treatment causes the cress to 
he fuller in the leaf, and shorter in the stulk, than if 
it waa grown in deeper water or a more confined 
situation. Close to tbe building shown in the en- 
graving is a space of water kept entirely clear, and 
inhabited by a number of beautiful trout; which, 
from constantly being accustomed to the sight of 
vititers, are sufficiently tame to allow you (o watch 
their motions with ease, aa they boldly move about 
in the stream. 

The scientific name of tbe water-cress is Sitym- 
brium nailurtium, formerly Nutturtium aquatkum. It 
may be propagated by seeds, or by cuttings from tbe 
stem ; the root itself is biennial, dying olTut the end 
of the second year, but as fresh fibres spring from 
each of the upper joints of the stem, it is a matter 
I of no consequence, 




[April 13; 

The principle on which the pungent taste of the 
water-cress depends. Is estreniely volalile« mnd almost 
entirely escapes as the leaves dry. 

Water-cresses have obtained a place among medi- 
cal herbs on account of their antiscorbutic qualities, 
and are considered great purifiers of the blood : in 
this respect they rank with the celebrated Scurvy- 
grass of navigators, {Cochlearia officinalis) and are 
recommended by medical authors to be eaten with it 
as a salad, with the addition of Seville oranges. 
They are supposed to be always most efficacious when 
eaten with an acid, such as vinegar. The French are 
in the habit of expressing the juice of the water- 
cress, and using it in the preparation of a salad. 

It is worthy of remark, that we find those pro- 
ductions of nature which are most essential to the 
support of man, or most conducive to his health, 
scattered with the greatest abundance in all parts of 
the globe, their species varied according to climate 
and soil. We find, in all quarters of the globe, grain 
from which bread can be made, but not in every 
country the same species. In the case of the cresses, 
the species are very numerous, and yet naturally 
confined to limited districts. The water-cress seems 
not peculiar to Great Britain : some species are found 
on the sea-shore, others on barren heaths, while 
many will only succeed in water. The American 
land-cress answers well in a garden, and is worth 
cultiration, as a substitute for the water-cress. There 
is one species, (Sisjpmbrium trio,) the London Wild 
Rocket, respecting which a belief once existed 
that it was produced by the great fire of London 
in 1666. It is not confined to the neighbourhood 
of London, although it grows there in great abun- 
dance, but is common in cultivated ground through- 
out Europe. 


Tbb ColonieB of the British empire have an area of 2,200.000 
square miles, and a sea-coast of 20.000 nautical miles ; 
population, 105.000,000. with an average of fifty mouths to 
the square mile. 

Of Lutherans and Calvinists, there are 800.000; of 
Dissenters, 700,000 ; of Roman Catholics, Greeks, Syrians, 
&c., 1.500.000; of Mohammedans, 26,000,000; of Hindoos, 
&c.. 75.000.000. 

The military strength employed is, 56,000 European 
regulars; 156.000 Colonial (coloured) regulars; and 250.000 
Colonial militia (whites). 

The Colonial revenues amount to 23,000,000/. sterling. 
The civil and convict expenses defrayed by Great Britain, 
to 225.000/.; the military expenses, to 1,800.000/.; and 
the total expenditure of the Colonies is therefore 25,000,000/. 
sterling per annum. The taxation averages 45. 6d, per 
head. The metallic money circulating in the Colonies is 
about 5.00U.0OO/., and the paper money about 3,000,000/. 
sterling. Maritime commerce of the Colonies: exports, 
30,000.000/.; imporu, 25,000,000/. To Great Britain: 
exports, 15,000.000/.; imporU, from 10,000,000/. Total 
shipping annually, in and out of Colonial ports, 8,000,000 
tons, of which there are to and from Great Britain, 3.000.000 
tons. Vcbsels built in the Colonies, from 1814 to 1837 
8.975 ; tonnage, 1,022,937. ' 

The property annually created in the Colonies is esti- 
mated at 400.000,000/., and the value of the property 
moveable and immoveable in the transmarine possessions 
of the empire in land, houses, stock, &c, at 2,500,000,000/. 
sterling. — Martin. 

The consciousness of doing that which we are reasonably 
persuaded we ought to do, is always a gratifying sensation 
to the considerate mind : it is a sensation by God's wUl 
inherent in our nature ; and is, as it were, the voice of God 
llimself, intimating his approval of our conduct, and by 
his commendation encouraging us to proceed, — Bishop 

At the commeneement of the preseat year, coniide- 
rahle snrpriie was manifeated by the psblie at the 
annouDcemeat of the startling discovery of a mode, 
by which natural objects were made to delineate them* 
■dves, without the aid of the artist's penciL The 
beautiful miniatore landscape, which the camera ob« 
scura produces, was made to paint itself upon paper i 
and that with a fidelity and minuteness so eztnun% 
dinary, that a microscopic examination was necessary 
to bring out all its details. A distant building repre- 
sented in one of these landscapes was depicted eren 
to the number of bricks in the facade, and a pane of 
one of its windows being broken and mended with 
paper, was faithfully represented and detected by the 

This discovery was first announced a few monthi 
ago by M. Arago, as communicated to him by M. 
Daguerre, the dioramic painter, which latter gentle- 
man doubtless thought the discovery to be new, and 
to pertain to himself; but it appears that Henry Fox 
Talbot Esq., F. R. S., a gentleman who has hM^ been 
distinguished for his mathematical and optical disco- 
veries, is the original inventor of the process | althongli 
M. Daguerre has the advantage of priority of pabli- 
cation of his results, but has concealed the proossifii 
by which they are attained. Mr. Talbot has pohUsked 
both, and from his account of the inveiitlon «s pro- 
ceed to inform our readers of the details of drfi I^ 
markable and valuable invention. 

There is a class of salts known to the dMsnht by 
the term salts of silver, some of which vndem dseom- 
position by exposure to the solar imys^ and Wooe 
variously coloured. Silver, dissolved fai niliiQ add, 
forms a nitrate of the oxide of silver, wlich it 
soluble in water. If a sheet of paper be washed 
with this solution and then set in the fluheaiu, it 
becomes blackened : but if some obfeet be placed 
before it, which casts a wdi-del»ed shadow^ the light 
acting on the rest of the paper would blacken it, wbik ] 
the parts within the shadow would retain their whit^ \ 
ness. Thus a kind of image or picture is formed, 
resembling the object from which it is derived. Bot 
such images must be preserved in the dark, and 
viewed only by artificial light; because, if viewed ^ 
daylight, the same natural processes which forswA 
the images would destroy them by blackening tlw 
rest of the paper. 

So far this process had long been known. Sir 
Humphrey Davy and Mr. Wedgwood had investigited 
the subject, but abandoned it» because the paper, ol 
which the images were depicted, soon became entiic|f 
dark, and noting tried by them would prevent it| 
but Mr. Talbot was so fortunate as to devise a mcdK4 
of fixing the image in such a manner that it ii b0 
more liable to injury from the action of light. 

The images obtained by Mr. Talbot*s process M 
themselves white, but the ground upon which thef 
display themselves, is variously and pleasiiii^ 
coloured. The process^ which we shall describe pie* 
sently, is capable of producing much variety^ 19 
merely varying the proportions of the materials fMrt 
ployed, and any of the following colours are resdilf 
attainable: sky-blue, yellow, rese-cok>ur« varioei 
shades of brown, and black. Green alone is absest 
from the list, with the exception of a dark shade rf. 
it, approaching to black. The blue coloured variett 
has a very pleasing efifect, somewhat like that prodaoal 
by the Wedgwood ware, which has white figjures on % 
blue ground. 

The first kind of objects which Mr. Talbot at* ^ 
tempted to copy by this process, were flowers ai4 
<■ From two Greek words, tifufyiaf yreiuesi ly Ugktm 




leaves. ''It is so natural,** sajrs he, ''to associate the 
idea of labour «with great complexity and elaborate 
detail of execution, that one is more struck at seeing 
the thousand florets of an agrostis, depicted with all 
its capillary branchlets (and so accurately, that none 
of all this multitude shall want its httle bivalve calyx, 
requiring to be examined through a lens), than one is 
by the picture of the large and simple leaf of an oak 
or a chestnut. But in truth the difficulty is in both 
cases the same. The one of these takes no more 
time to execute than the other ; for the object which 
would take the most skilful artist days or weeks of 
labour to trace or to copy, is effected by the bound- 
less powers of natural chemistry in the space of a 
few seconds.'* 

'' To give an idea,*' continues he," " of the degree 
of accuracy with which some objects can be imitated, 
by this process, I need only mention one instance. 
Upon one occasion, having made an image of a piece 
of lace, of an elaborate pattern^ I showed it to some 
persons at the distance of a few feet, with the Inquiry 
whether it was a good representation; when the 
reply was that they were not so easily to be deceived, 
for that it was evidently no picture, but the piece of 
lace itself." 

The reader may probably have heard of one of the 
legends of that intellectual and extraordinary people, 
the Germans | where Peter Schlemil sells his shadow, 
the purchaser of which kneels down in the broad sun- 
shine, detaches the shadow from its owner's heels, 
folds it up, and puts it in his pocket. By the spells 
of our scientific enchanter, Mr. Talbot, this most 
transitory of things, the proverbial emblem of all 
that is fleeting and momentary, may be permanently 
fixed in the position which it seemed only destined 
for a single instant to occupy. Such is the fact, that 
we may receive on paper the fleeting shadow, arrest 
it there, and in the space of a single minute, fix it 
there so firmly as to be no more capable of change, 
even if thrown back into the sunbeam, from which it 
derived its origin. 

Let us now consider the method of preparing what 
Mr. Talbot calls photogenic paper, and the means of 
fjeing the design. 

A sheet of superfine writing-paper is dipped into a 
weak solution of common salt, and wiped dry, by 
which the salt is uniformly distributed throughout its 
substance. A solution of nitrate of silver is spread 
over the paper on one surface only, and dried at the 
fire. The solution should not be saturated, but six or 
eight times diluted with water. When dry, the paper 
is fit for use. 

There is a certain proportion between the quantity 
of salt, and that of the solution of silver, which 
answers best, and gives the maximum effect. If the 
strength of Uie salt be increased beyond this point, 
the effect diminishes, and in certain cases becomes 
exceedingly small. 

"This paper," says Mr. Talbot, " if properly made, 
is very useful for idl ordinary photogenic purposes. 
For example, nothing can be more perfect than the 
images it gives of leaves and flowers, especially with 
a summer sun : the light passing through the leaves 
delineates every ramification of their nerves." 

If a sheet of paper, thus prepared, be washed with 
a saturated solution of salt, and dried, and again 
Washed with a liberal quantity of the solution of 
silver, it becomes more sensible to the action of light 
than it was at first. In this way, by alternately 
washing the paper with salt and silver, and drying it 
between times, Mr. Talbot prepares what he calls 
temiiwe paper, well adapted to the reception of images 
foimed by the camera-obscuni. 

The photogenic picture being formed, requires 
fixing -f for, if left to the light, the whole surface of the 
paper which bears it will become of one hue, and the 
design will of course be obliterated. Two methods 
of fixing are named by Mr. Talbot ) the one is to 
wash the picture over with a solution of iodide of 
potassium, whereby an iodide of silver is formed, 
which is absolutely unalterable by the solar light: 
the other method is to immerse the picture in a 
strong solution of common salt^ to wipe off the super- 
fluous moisture, and then dry it. Pictures preserved 
by iodine are of a pale primrose yellow, which pos- 
sesses the remarkable property of turning to a full 
gaudy yellow, when exposed to the heat of a fire, 
and recovering its former colour when it is cold. 

The writer of this article has formed several photo- 
genic pictures, with ease and complete success. He 
will shortly resume the subject, and offer the reader 
a few directions on the precautions necessary to their 
formation, and sum np the great advantages which 
are likely to be derived from this beautiful discovery. 


The London and Birmingham Railway is unquestionably 
the greatest public work ever executed, either in ancient 
or modern times. If we estimate its importance by the 
labour alone which has been expended on it, perhaps the 
Great Chinese Wall might compete with it; but when we 
consider the immense outlay of capital which it has required, 
—the great and varied talents which have been in a con- 
stant state of requisition during the whole of its progress,— 
together with the unprecedented engineering difficulties, 
which we are happy to say are now overcome, — ^the gigantic 
work of the Chinese sinks totally into the shade. 

It may be amusing to some readers, who are unac- 
quainted with the magnitude of such an undertaking as 
tne London and Birmingham Railway, if we give one or 
two illustrations of the above assertion. The great Pyramid 
of Egypt, that stupendous monument which seems likely to 
exist to the end of all time, will afford a comparison. 

After making the necessary, allowances for the founda- 
tions, galleries, &c., and reducing the whole to one uniform 
denomination, it will be found that the labour expended on 
the great Pyramid was equivalent to lifting fifteen thou- 
sand seven hundred and thirty-three million cubic feet of 
stone one foot high. This labour was performed, according 
to Diodorus Siculus by three hundred thousand^ to Hero- 
dotus by one hundred thousand men, and it required fbr its 
execution twenty years. 

If we reduce in the same manner the labour expended in 
oonstrueting the London and Birmingham Railway, to one 
common denomination, the result is twenty-five thousand 
million cubic feet of material (reduced to the same weight 
as that used in constructinff the Pyramid) lifted one loot 
high, or nine thousand two hundred and sixty -seven million 
cubic feet more than was lifted one foot high in the con* 
struction of the Pyramid; yet this immense undertaking 
has been performed by about twenty thousand men in less 
than five years. 

From the above calculation have been omitted all the tun- 
nelling, culverts, drains, ballasting, and fencing, and all the 
heavy work at the various stations, and also the labour ex- 
pended on engines, carriages, wagons, &c.* These are set 
off against the labour of drawing the materials of tl e 
Pyramid flrom the quarries to the spot where they were to 
be used— a mudh larger allowanoe than is necessary. 

Ai another means of comparison, let us take the cost of 
the Railway, and turn it into pence, and allowing each 
penny fo beone inch and thirty-four hundredths wide, it will 
be found that these pence laid together, so that thev all 
touch, would more than form a continuous band round the 
earth at the equator. 

As a thiixl mode of viewing the magnitude of this work* 
let us take tlie citcumferenoe of the earth in round numbers 
at one hundred and thirty million feet. Then, as there are 
about four hundred million cubit feet of earth to be moved 
in the Railway, we see that this quantity of material alone, 
without looking to any thing else, would, if spread m a 
band one foot high and one foot broad, more than three 
times encompass the earth at the equator.-— Lacouwr, 
^ 435—2 


A ROLLOw cavern seemt the general Btructare of the 
orgaii of heariDg, as beit fitted for receiving and 
reflecting sotiad. 

' So necessary is this cavernoni shape of the exter- 
nal ear to the reception of sonnd, that we are told the 
celebrated tyrant of Syracuse, Dionyaius, caused a 
cavern to be formed in a rock, corresponding to the 
shape of a human ear, where he used to confine his 
state prisoners; and from the strong vibration, and 
echoes of the sonnd, he was enabled to learn the secret 
coaTcrvations they held, and thus condemn or acquit 
them Bcoordingly. 

In the different tribes of animals, it is liable to con- 
ttderable varieties in the appearance and tnanner uf 
Its formation, and its appendages. 

In man it ia more perfect in its structure than in 
any other animal ; and it is also of more importance 
to him than to any other of the creation. 

All animals, as far as we know, possess this sense : 
it was formerly doubted with respect to fishes. The 
orgBQ of hearing in fishe* was first discovered by the 
late Mr. John Hunter ; and is prosecuted at consider- 
able length in bis work on Tke Organ of Hearing in 
fUhei, by the late Professor Monro, of Edinburgh. 
Thus the' modern researches and discoveries in com- 
parative anatomy have sufliciently established their 
poBseasion of this sense, as well as the other classes. 

The impressions the organ of bearing receives, are 
conveyed through the medium of air, which acquires 
from the action of the body communicating sound, a 
tremulous motion or vibration : and as these motions 
or vibrations succeed each other, sound is impressed, 
or directed, to the thin membrane stretched obliquely 
across the aoditory passage, named the lympanmn, 
where it produces a similar motion; which latter 
motion carried on, excites a corresponding feeling in 
the mind. 

Though htaring is more pMfect in man than in any 
other animal, it is not so at the period of birth: an 
infant at first hears very imperfectly, and only strong 

In all animals the ear is divided into an external 
and internal part, and the difference in the structure 
of the oi^an of hearing is greater in the external ear 
than in the internal. 

In quadrupeds this difference of structure is more 
coiupicuou* than in the rest, and this difference or 

r DioyysiuB. 

' variety seems intended to adapt the animal tt 
I for its particular circumstances or mode of 1 
I On examining the external ear in quadmpi 
found to resemble the oblique section of a c( 
near the apex to the base. Hares, and other 
exposed to danger, and liable to be attacked 
or beasts of prey, have large ears, and they a 
cularly directed backwards, while their eyet 
same time, full oud prominent, warn them 
danger in front. Rapacious animals, on the c 
have their cars placed exactly forwards, as is i 
ble in the lion, the tiger, the cat, aud others. 
the peculiar nature of animals is such as tc 
that sound be distinctly beard from a low siti 
as for instance, slow-hounds or others — they 
found to have eilbcr lai^e pendulous ears, or 
tbem flexible, since they move their heads wi 
difficulty than man. 

Much advantage may be taken of this circu 
in the construction of mechanical contrivai 
assisting hearing. Some animals keep their 
the ground, as if impressing the sound morei 
on the organ ; and in the case of deaf persoi 
contrivances should be made nearly of a le 
touch the ground, which would give ample i 
for the reception and retention of sound. 

Fowls, again, differ from quadrupeds in hs 
external ear; but, iu place of it, there is a tnfl 
fine feathers, which covers the passage to t 
this covering allows the sound to pass easily t 
and also prevents any insects or extcmaJ : 
which might prove a source of injury, from 
into it. 
I To fowls an external ear would have been i 
nient, as causing an obstruction in the course 
flight, in passing through thickets, and othe 
impervious places. In their auditory pa««i 
there is situated a liquor to lubricate it, at 
its disagreeable quaUty, to prevent the enl 

In prosecuting our inquiries farther, the ear 
discovered in insects; it lies at the root 
anteoK, or feelers, and can be disUnctly seei 
lobster and some others of the larger kind. 

In the sea-tortoise, the frog, and other am 
animals, its structure is peculiar, by there I 
external meatos. but an expanded eostadiiai 




'he back part of the roof of the mouthy near where 
the under and upper jaws articulate. 

This tube has a winding course behind the upper 
aw, and leads to a cavity resembling the cavity of the 
luman tympanum, covered by the skin of the temple 
md a tough substance. The latter then passes into 
he bottom of the tympanum, and next into a smaller 
:avity filled with a watery humour, and last it opens 
nto a third cavity, having three semicircular canals, 
ind a sac containing a soft cretaceous substance, on the 
nembrane of which are distributed the nerves. Thus 
naking a comparison of it with the human ear, the 
ough substance, or cartilaginous body, supplies the 
mall bones of our ear, and the membrane, to which it 
s connected, is analogous to the membrane of the 
bramen ovale. The sac and semicircular canals and 
lerves exactly resemble the hunuui labyrinth or inter- 
[lal ear. 

On the whole, the more we extend our examination 
of this organ of hearing, we shall find it so con- 
structed, in every class, as to be peculiarly adapted to 
the mode of life and other circumstances connected 
with the situation of the animal. Curtis. 


These very remarkable rocks are situated in what is 
called Bald Eagle, or Sinking Spring Valley, on the 
frontiers of Bedford County, one of the southern tier 
of connties in the State of Pennsylvania, and about 
200 miles west of the city of Philadelphia. To the 
Ottt of this valley runs an irregular chain of rocky 
mountains, (one of the ranges or spurs of the 
Allegheny chain,) known as the Canoe Ridge, — and 
on Uie western side it is bounded by the Warrior 
Mountains, a chain nearly as wild and picturesque 
IS tbe others 

These rocks, which are of gray limestone, have as- 
inmed various strange shapes and appearances (for 
there are several detached masses through the entire 
length of Sinking Valley) ; and notwithstanding the 
general name of Pulpit Rocks, which is applied to 
the whole, some of them are rude irregular cones 
nd pyramids, while the forms of otho^ convey 
to the imagination the ideas of stupendous urns, 
nses, dishes, &c. Unquestionably they are objects 
of cariosity, and well worthy the attention of those 
vho can duly appreciate the sublime beauties of 

Independent of those natural wonders. Sinking 
Valley obtained a notoriety during the American 
RTolationary war, on account of the lead ore that 
vas discovered in some parts of it. But on account 
of frequent molestation from hostile tribes of Indians, 
ind the want of experience of those engaged in the 
Bunes, these lead- works were suffered to fall into a state 
of decay; nor have they, since that period, been con- 
sidered of sufficient importance to induce any of the 
occupiers of the lands to re- open them. 

Among the chief curiosities of Sinking Valley are 
"the Swallows," huge fissures in the wall of rock 
into which two or three mountain streams pour their 
transparent waters, — which, after flowing through 
aohterranean passages for several miles, may be seen 
KoaluDg from gorges in the sides of the mountain, 
vjkhout having apparently undergone any material 
duuge in size or character. One these streams is of 
'^ery considerable size, and is known by the name of 
lie Arch Spring ; and as the road leading to the old 
tockade fort traverses this part of Sinking Valley, it 
I more generally visited by travellers than any of the 
eat. AAer this moderate-sized stream has run a 
aute of fleveral miles in a rocky and irregular 

channel, — ^having once or twice disappeared amongst 
the " swallows,'* and as often burst forth again from 
its pent-up course, — it is suddenly precipitated over a 
succession of ledges in the immediate vicinity of some 
of the largest of the pulpit rocks, when it almost 
immediately enters a rude aroh, the mouth of a vast 
and singular cavern. This cave or cavern, where the 
stream flrst enters it, is eighteen feet high, the width 
being nearly the same, which, however, soon expands 
to nearly double that extent. But^ in proportion to 
itf increase of breadth, the roof apparently declines, 
so that the capacity of the cavern continues nearly 
the same for a considerable distance. 

A ledge of loose irregular rocks runs along one side 
of the stream as it seeks a dark passage through this 
cavern. In many places they are elevated a few feet 
above the level of the water, (except in time of high 
floods,) and afford those who venture into this gloomy 
grotto the means of scrambling along, although not 
without' some danger, and very considerable difficulty; 
but at length the channel of the stream, as well as 
the direction of the cavern, turns abruptly to the left, 
when there is no longer any projecting points or 
ledges that might afford the explorer even a slippery 
and precarious footing. 

The whole length of this chasm, for in several 
places the cavern has openings or clefts in the loof, 
is nearly a quarter of a mile ; while the fall of the 
stream in that distance cannot be less than from 50 
to 60 feet. There are several ledges of rocks over 
which it rushes with great velocity ; so that the 
thundering of the various cataracts adds not a little 
to the wild sublimity of the scene. In some parts of 
the cavern there are piles of drift-wood, that have 
been brought down from a distant part of the valley, 
when this mountain torrent has been swollen by the 
melting of the winter snows, or by some heavy fall 
of summer rain. In one place, in particular, where 
the cave suddenly becomes contracted, there are so 
many small trees piled up, and the limbs and 
branches of larger ones, that, judging from the ap- 
pearance of the sides and roof, it seems quite evident 
at some former period the whole aperture has been 
completely filled with water, and that the surplus has 
escaped by the openings in the roof already men- 

In another part of Sinking Valley a stream of 
smaller size than the one above spoken of, finds a 
romantic passage in a chasm, which is exceedingly 
narrow, but of the astonishing depth of 300 feet ! In 
particular situations the water is visible at this extra- 
ordinary depth, where it may be seen in constant 
motion, and of inky blackness ; although it is as 
transparent as crystal botli before it enters the 
chasm, and after it gushes forth once more into open 

Although there seems little doubt that the small 
streams which become lost in the upper part of the 
valley are the identical ones that burst forth again 
from their subterranean passages, yet many experi- 
ments have been tried with various light substaAces, 
such as chaff, feather, wool, &c. ; and yet there is no 
instance upon record of the substances thus thrown 
into the streams above the *' swallows" being re- 
cognised where the water issues from the sundry 
clefts in the wall of rock along the eastern side of the 

Vocal OaoANs op Birds.— In man, and most of the 
warm-blooded animals, the larynx, or vocal box, forms a 
protuberance in the front of the throat ; but in binU, 
the same organ is placed at the bottom of tho neck, lutiteaa 
of the top. 





As the Winter approaches, one snow storm succeeds 
mother till the face of the whole country is changed. 
Every particle of ground is covered, the trees alone 
remaining visible, while even the progress of the 
m ighty river St. Lawrence is arrested in its course — 
ev ery where, in fact, the chilling grasp of Winter is 
felt, and every precaution is taken by man to resist 
its benumbing effects. All the feathered tribes take 
the alarm-— even the hardy crow retreats — and few 
quadrupeds are to be seen; some, like the bear, re- 
main log in a torpid state; and others, like the hare, 
changing their colour to a pure white. From Quebec 
to Montreal the St. Lawrence ceases to be navigable, 
and serves as a road for the sleighs or carrioles. 
These vehicles vary in shape, according to fancy. 
The body of the carriole resembles that of a phaeton, 
& g^S, & chariot, or family coach ^ it is placed on what 
are called runners, which resemble in form the irons 
of a pair of skates, rising up in front in the same 
manner and for the same purposes. The high run- 
ners are about eighteen inches, but generally the 
carriole is about twelve inches above the snow, over 
which it glides with great ease, on a level surface, 
without sinking deep; but when calhots (narrow 
ridges, with deep furrows) are formed in the snow, 
the motion is like rowing in a boat against a head- 
sea, producing a sensation, until accustomed to it, 
somewhat like sea-sickness. The carriole is often 
mounted with silver, and ornamented with expensive 

Instead of the variety which a Canadian Summer 
presents, in tracing the course of noble rivers, the 
fall of beautiful cataracts, &c., nothing is now to be 
seen but one continued solid plain; no rivers, no 
ships, no animals— all one indiscriminate plain of 
snow, the average depth of which, (unless where ac- 
cumulated by snow<4torms or drifts,) is about thirty 

The dress of the Canadians now undergoes a com- 
plete change ; the hat and bonnet rouge are thrown 
aside, and fur caps, fur cloaks, fur gloves, are put in 
requisition, with worsted hose over as well as under 
boots : those who take exercise on. foot use snow- 
shoes, or mocassins, which are made of a kind of 
network, fixed on a frame, and shaped like a boy's 
paper kite, about two feet long, and eighteen Inches 
broad ; these cover so much of the surface of the 
snow, that the wearer sinks but a very few inches, 
even where the snow is softest. While the external 
weather is guarded against by the Canadians when 
out of doors, their habitations are also secured against 
the destructive power of intense cold. The waJls of 
the houses are usually plastered on the outside, to 
preserve the stones from moisture, which, if acted on 
by the frost, is liable to split them ; and the apart- 
ments are heated with stoves, which keep the tem- 
perature at a higher and more uniform rate than 
our. English fire-places. It has been found difficult 
to get the plaster to adhere, particularly if exposed 
to the easterly wind ; but, by mixing two pounds of 
Muscovado sugar with a bushel of lime, a hard and 

durable rough casting is produced. Martin's 



SciBNCB deprives itself of its right hand, when, under the 
influence of a false philosophy, it refuses to turn to the 
Creator and to inquire of His purposes. — Macculloch. 

Frogs. — ^Before the common fh>g becomes perflsctly deve- 
loped, it is four years old. Three years are i^uired for the 
common white erub-worm, found in the deep soil of a garden, 
to pass through the requisite changes to oecome a per^t 


I AX not what I was. I feel these years 

Have done sad office for me; and that time, 

Which I had dreamed might fling around the path 

On which I ventured, something of that light 

Which cheers life like a halo, has but east 

A sickly shadow o*er my pilgrimage, 

And made thus fax what I had deemed should be 

A oourse for men to point at and admlroi 

Only an upward strife of weariness-— 

A struggle with dark destiny — a toil 

In which IVe given no lesson to the world 

Of that stem toleration which sets crown 

On virtue in her trial; becaiise here 

I've poured my spirit out in dull complaint, 

That should have striven for mastery i 

I see 

Through the pale vista of my memory, 
What once I was, compared with what I am. 
I once was buoyant, and my footstep rose 
To something strong within me. I gave voice 
As in uplifting music, to high thoughts 
That spoke of a high nature, that should rise, 
So it were true to Him who fashioned it, 
Onward, in lofty march up to the skies; 
Or, were it faithless, downward to the dust 
Our graves are made of ! I was certain, then, 
There was no power could lure my eye from heaven; 
Or that a cloud upon the things of earth 
Could come, than midnight quicker and more de^l 
But I have found my reason was a child 
Without a master — a mere wanderer — 
Untaught and learning nothing — till my days 
Brought sometliing that reproved me as it passed; 
A strong, rebuking spirit, whose dark winga^ 
Heavy with sorrow, swept but slowly by, 
And held me in long shadow, like a night ! 
Thus was it that I found a punishment 
Brought by my years, for giving to the earth 
What with my yoimg vows should have gone to God 

'TIS not mine to forget Yet can I not 

Remember what I would, or what were well I 

Memory plays tyrant with me, by a wand 

I cannot master. I may not forget 

My visitations, that have shadowed me 

Like an eclipse; until my tortured heart 

Was weakened like a cliild's; and like a child's 

Bcarce knew its duty in its feebleness. 

Forgetfulness of sorrow is not mine^ 

But on me rests remembrance like a ban ; 

Yet like the flash that plays upon the cloud 

In the night season, memory will unveil. 

Though for a moment, some dim passages 

Of my passed, palled existence. I can see, 

As in a dream, how life was when I sprang 

Into its highway for the agony 

And strain of high contention. I can see 

Beyond a vision^s clearness, how I went 

Cheered as the lark is, to the upper sky 

By the unbarring morning; so by shouts 

Of men, as (hey broke roimd me, in my mom! 

Life was a panorama of liigh hope — 

A prospect of high travel, and great fame. 

I saw upon the future, painted nought 

That looked like frowns upon repelling brows^ 

But only hands that seemed to beckon on 

In a BtiU, strange temptation, that my eye 

Grew mad with, till the colours of tliis earth 

Took hue like those of heaven ; and I forgot 

It was the destiny of one to fade^ 

And that my love was given to ! But my yeais 

Here, too, brought knowledge; in that oompany 

Of sadness and repentance, whose dim train 

Sweeps on so with experience, that they seem 

lake manacled and cowled captives at the car 

Of some unmoved and stayless conqueror! 

And now how gase I on that memory 
Of that first page I turned for lessons here I 
My prayer is to forget the dreamy p act ■■ 
And senseless to the present^ to look oiiy 
And upward with a better ^onstanoyt 

And holier sspintipni tiU rebuke/ 




Jg maiged la meny, ai^ I feel the bloadfl 

Are bending to receiye me, like great wings, 

To waft me to the mighty tabernacle 

That they are round abont — Grsi^tills MsluV. 



No. v. Tbs Sand or HoviuGz*A8s. 

Wb find in aucient writings the term Clepsydra 
translated by the word Hour-glass ; and, as this latter 
term is now applied to the sand-glass, it leaves us in 
great nncertfunty as to when the flowing of sand was 
first made a measure of time. Fosbrooke^ in his 
" Encyclopaedia of Antiquities/* says, that in a basso 
relievo, at the Mattel palace, representing the mar- 
riage of Thetis and Peleus, Morpheus holds an hour- 
glass in his hand. He also says, on the authority of 
Atheneus, that people used to carry hour-glasses 
about as we do watches. 

Instead of endeavouring to trace when and where 
sand-glasses were first employed, we will proceed to 
give a few practical details concerning them, merely 
premising that they served their purpose tolerably 
well, until more useful, — because to a greater extent 
self-acting, — instruments superseded a contrivance 
which required at least a horary attendant. The 
honr-glass is now seldom seen, unless upon the table 
of the lecturer or private teacher, in the study of the 
philosopher, the cottage of the peasant, or in the 
hand of the old emblematic figure of Time, accompa- 
nied by the equally emblematic scythe. The half- 
minute glass is still employed on board-ship, and the 
three-minute glass is well known under the appella- 
tion of an egg-glass, to regulate the time for boiling 

an egg. 

The shape of the hour-glass is not a matter of 
much moment, but the form generally adopted is 
that of two pear-shaped vessels, joined at their 
smaller extremities. These vessels are blown of equal 
size, and the sand is placed in one of them before the 
other is joined to it The best sand is that called 
Silver sand, which, being heated in a crucible or com- 
mon frying pan to expel all moistare, is then sifted 
through a fine sieve. A given measure or weight of 
the sand (known by experience) is then put into one 
of the bulbs, and the small extremities of the two 
bulbs are fused together by means of a blow- 
pipe, in inch a manner as to leave a small aperture 
between the two bulbs, the calibre of which aperture 
determines the rapidity of the flow of the sand. The 
bulbs are fixed vertically between two flat pieces of 
wood, connected together by pillars, and the instru- 
ment is now fit for use: the sand falling from the 
upper to the lower bulb, in exactly the time for 
which the measure of sand and size of the aperture 
were calculated. 

A method practised in France for constructing 
sand-glasses is as follows : — ^Blow four bulbs from one 
piece of glass tube, so that they may be all connected 
together in one line, with a narrow length of tube 
between pach two bulbs. Open the two extreme 
bulb* in the form of a funnel, which may act as 
pedestals for the instrument to stand upon. Close 
the narrow opening at one end, introduce the sand at 
the other, and then close that opening likewise, having 
previously adjusted the tube which connects the two 
middle bulbs, so that the sand shall flow with the 
desiped n^idity. 

Steady as Trath on ^ther end 
Its hoinly task perfbrming well. 

Egg shell, baked and^ finely powdered, has been re- 

commended as fierviiig better than aand for these 

The hour-glass is much superior to the clepsydra 
as a measurer of time | for the flow of the sand from 
one bulb to another is perfectly equable, whatever be 
Ihe quantity of sand in the upper bulb : the stream 
runs no hiter when this bulb is almost full than 
when nearly empty ; whereas with water the efifect is, 
as we saw in the last paper, quite the reverse. Until 
we properly estimate the effects of friction, we are 
likely to suppose that, when the upper bulb is full, 
the pressure of sand from above urges the stream 
more quickly through the aperture at the beginning 
of the hour than towards the end. That this is not 
the case, but that the flow of the sand is equable, 
may be shown by an easy and Irery pretty experi- 

Provide a tube of any length or diameter, and of 
any material whatever : writing paper will do very 
well. Close the tube at the lower end, leaving the 
upper end open. If the tube be made of paper, the 
best way to construct it is to choose a cylindrical 
mould, such as a common round ruler, round which 
roll the paper, and connect the edges with glue or 
paste. Tie a string round the whole in two or three 
places, to prevent the paper from starting. When 
the glue or paste is dry, remove the string and draw 
out the cylinder ; then cover one extremity with a 
piece of paper, as thin as may be preferred : this may 
be tied on, or only wetted, so as to adhere by cling- 
ing round the bottom of the tube. 

Make a hole, about one-eighth of an inch in dia- 
meter, in this bottom of the tube : cover this hole 
tightly with the finger, and then fill up the tube with 
sand fine and dry : suspend the tube in a vertical 
position, and remove the finger from the hole, and let 
the sand flow out into any little vessel which will serve 
as a measure of capacity. Note the time when the sand 
begins to flow, and bow long time is required to fill 
this vessel once. When the measure is quite full^ 
stop the flow of sand by covering the hole again, 
empty the measure, and then allow it to be filled 
again. It will be found that the time required to fill 
the measure is precisely the same in both cases, 
whatever be the extent of the column in the upper 
part of the tube. 

Or, equal measures of sand may in the first place 
be poured into the tube, say four equal measures : if 
a quantity of sand, equal to one measure, flow out in 
a quarter of an hour, we may with certainty predict 
that three-quarters of an hour will be required for the 
remainder of the sand to flow out. Or, the tube itself 
may be graduated into equal parts, and the fall of 
the sand through one division will be performed in 
the same time as through any other division of the 

While the sand is flowing (provided the tube be 
made of strong material which will bear rough hand- 
ling) we may exert whatever pressure we please upon 
the upper surface of the sand in the tube : we may take 
a ruler or plug, and force the sand down with our 
whole strength ; — ^but we shall find that the flow of 
the sand will not be in the least hastened by that pres- 
sure 5 it will flow on calmly and equably, regardless 
of the exertions we are making to hasten its progress; 
but we must not disturb the steadiness of the tube, 
but fix it firmly in the first case, and make all the 
comparisons fairly and carefully. If any person 
have a pop-gun, let him close one end with his finger, 
and then fill the tube with sand : he will find that 
not all the force which he can exert at the other end 

I with his rammer will produce the slightest pressure 
on his finger, or thrust any of the sand out of the 
tube. / 



rApBiL 13,' 1639. 

It has been observed, that " it requires a gcx>d deal 
of philosophy to observe coinmoa things ;" and this 
remark, so generally true, applies to the present sub- 
ject. When sandi^B allowed to fall quietly upon any 
surface, it forms a conical heap, whose sides form 
with the base an angle of about 30° : thus, in the 
foUowmg figure, sand falling upon a sorface a b from 

C, a source above, forms at first the small cone 1 I 
wLicti increases to 2 2, 3 3, &c., the sand constantly 
falling down a conical surface, whose inclination it 
30°, A similar fact may be observed wherever mor- 
tar is being made. Sand, one of the ingredients of 
mortar, is sifted through a screen, placed at an angle 
of about 40° or 50°, and falling through the meshes 
of the sieve, forms a conical heap on the other side 
not so regular as in its steadier flow through a simple 
hole, but stilt its angle will be generally about 30°. 
When sand ia tossed out of a cart, or barrow, it falls 
in the form of this cone. 

As eaad, therefore, falls at a given angle, it is easy 
to see the form which it occupies In the tube. The 
latter is filled by a succession of conical heaps : its 
bottom bears the pressure of the first heap only; the 
sub<:equent straU or additions to that heap trans- 
ferring their pressure almost entirely to the sides of 
the tube. 

The reason then why the sand flows so equably is, 
because the lowest heap is not influenced by the 
pressure of the overlaying strata. 

We can easily prove that the base of the tube, before 
spoken of, supports the pressure of the first conical 
heap only, by again taking the open tube, and closing 
the bottom end with a piece of silver paper, wetted at 
the edges, which are to be folded jup on the outside 
of the tube. If the tube be now filled with sand, it 
will be found that even this slightly adhering bottom 
is sufficient to retain the sand in the tube : indeed the 
only weight the silver paper sustains is the first Uttle 
heap of sand poured into the tube. In this way many 
pounds of ssnd, contained within a tube two or three 
inches in diameter, may be lifted up from the ground. 

With respect to these remarkable properties eUci ted 
by the flowing of sand, M. Boumaud observes, that 
"there is. perhaps, no other natural force on the 
earth which produces by itself a perfectly nniform 
movement, and which is not altered either bjr gravita- 
tion, or friction, or resistance of the air } for the 
height has no influence, — friction, instead of being an 
obstacle, is the regulating cause, — and the resistance 
of the air within the column must be so feeble, as to 
be altngetlier insensible as a disturbing force." 

This cnrious property of sand disqualifies it for a 
purpose for which it has been proposed to employ it. 
Snggestions have been made to naturalists, to load 
their gnns with water instead of bullets, in order to 
prevent that mutilation of the plumage of birds, &c., 
of which they are in search. This plan was first 
adopted by Le Vailliant, in South America, wiUi 
great tucceii j And nnd hoa been recomraendsd for 

the same purpose. We do not know whether this 
latter has been adopted ; bnt, from the foregoing ex- 
periments it will be seen how extremely hazMrdoui 
must he such a trial : the almost certain result would 
be the bursting of the gun-barrel, inasmuch as a very 
small quantity of sand would resist the expansive 
force of the ignited gunpowder. 

But this plan has been adopted with much success 
in blasting rocks. A hole is bored in the rock to the 
requisite depth, at the bottom of which gunpowder it 
placed. A long match is then inserted into the hole 
dawn to the gunpowder ; the whole of it is then filled 
up with sand ; the match is lighted, and bums down 
to the powder; which, being ignited, the expansive 
force rends away the rock. It is worthy of remark, 
and is indeed the point to which we especially allude, 
that the loose column of sand is not blown out 
during the explosion. 

These properties of solid bodies, when in the form 
of fine sand or grains, are so remarkable that we have 
been induced to deviate from the course of our sub- 
ject to say a few words respecting them. To return, 
however, we maf state that preaching by the hoar- 
glass, was an ancient castom in this country, aod 
still exists in Scotland. So many allusions to the 
hour-glass are to be met with in the early writers, 
that it is evident they were in common use. Bacon 
says, " In sickness, time will seem longer without n 
clock or hour-glass than with one ; for the miod 
doth value every moment :" and in tile words of 
Sidney, "Next morning, known to be' a momiog 
better by the hour-glass, than the day's clearness." 

These relics of the olden time, however, as well as 
snn-dials and clepsydras, have graduHlly yielded to 
clocks and watches ; and we will conclude by quoting 
a passage of a quaint writer in the seventeentfa cen- 
tury, introductory to a dcEcription of tbe clucks in 
use at that period. 

At time, that little part of eternitv, in which tbe sun 
shall continue to ruti hit race, ia divided iisturally inio 
yean and days, by the two diffeient motions of that lumi- 
nouB body ; to mankind has, by divine direction, been in- 
duced to divide tbe day into yet letser parts, called houn 
and minutei; and, as the exceeding great use and benefit 
thereof it now known to mauy nations, so, in the most 
ciyiliied parts of the world, men have been still contriving 
ways bow tbey may do this with the greatest exaeincis. 

The first and most ancient of all was doubtless that of 
sun-dials; a noble ioveniian but yet defectiTe, in that it is 
of use no longer than the tun shinet. Tbe next to this, of 
any valne and esteem, was tbat of die hour-glass, an excel- 
lent contrivanoe, if its utefulnest at all times be considered ; 
but the care required to keep it in continual motion did still 
escite tba ingenious to endeavour the discovery of aorae- 
thin)r else that might not only be yet more exact, but free 
loo fmti) the continual toil, at I may call it, and trouble of 
attendance. — Suith's Horologieal Diipntifiont, 1694 


Tax true crocodile is found in the river Nile, but by no 
IS in Buch plenty at in the timesof tbePbaraoba. The 
species which is domestieated by the priests, and msgnifl- 
centlj provided for in a temple in Memphis, was of a i;reeD 
colour. It was an object of profound wonhip, called a God, 
and embalmed when it died. On the other hand, the allu 
^alor is exclusively found in America; and instead of hav- 
ing an unintcrruptad series of teeth round both jaws, as in 
the crocodile, the fourth tooth of the under jaw shuts into 
a corroaponding socket in the upper one. This law is to 
universal, that any person by remembering tbis ftct, nsy 
with oerlainty designate the one from the other. 


■!,»■■■ IK WiHLT ttuHiiiti.rmiuOH tn R T, ADD ■■ MMiiait Fisn 
■qM by tU B««k**Ucra sa4 KntmSns la lb* KtarlM. 

^a^turHas iWagaftnt. 

N9 436. 


20™, 1839. 



It Ji a remukable circumstance, that nearly bU our 
Beat luefnl iaventioaa are founded upon principles so 
otremelf limple, both in their action and appticatiun, 
<• to excite aurpiue that they should so long have re- 
■Med unknown. Bnt it generally happens that an in- 
iWor magnifie* to himself the nature of the object 
M^tto be attained, and creates difficulties where none 
Bam : he conatmcta extensive and elaborate apparatus, 
■■dmmindiul of the simplicity of natnre's-operations, 
vUdi ought to be his model and his guide, he is not 
gnenUj content with a simple form of apparatus 
vUdi Iw mig^t add to and improve ; but he usually 

CDDstTUvla one that is intricate in form, and by degrees 

detcenda from complexity to simplicity, thus ending 

There he ought to have begun. 
The vaiiotia forma of diving apparatus, to some of 

which we alluded in a previous article, were cora- 
VoL. XIT. 

plicated in theory ana difficult in practice. The 
diving-bell in its simplest form is simplicity •itself. It 
is nothing more than a chest or tub, uf a conical 
shape, sufficiently large to contain two or three per- 
sons, and being sunk to various depths in water, 
enables the divers to perform a variety of nsefol 

Although the bell is open at the bottom, it is full of 
air, so that the water docs not enter the bell because 
the air cannot escape. The reader will understand the 
whole principle of the di\ing-bell, by attaching a piece 
of dry blotting paper to the bottom of a wine-glass: 
then, inverting the glass, let him lower it steadily into 
a bucket of water, taking care to hold the glass stea- 
dily and to allow the whole rim of the glsss to touch 
the water at the point of immersion. In this way 
the kIoss may be lowered to the biittoTin>i 'CiiRV^flM*<», 



[April 20^ 

and the water will not enter into the glass so as to 
wet the paper. The reason for thi