THE MINERS' AND FARMERS’ JOURNAL,
CORNWAIiL MINES ENGLAND.
EiUacl from Silliraan> Journal qf. Traveli in
Kiigland, Ac. ia 1805.
To Cornwall, which is nearly dcsfitiitp of
trees, and condonmed to the privations of a
thin and sterile soil, and the inclemency of
a fickle and stormy climate, the Creator has
given an ample conifKinsation, in the Ik)W-
ds t.f her territory, for the deficiencies of
the siirt'ace.
The indications of a miningcountrj- which
appeared, tor many miles, on the other side
of Truro, now becan>e more frequent and
stiiking. Vast lieaps of earth, gravel, and
stones, every where deformed the prospect,
and pointed out the places, where, for a sue-
cession of aces, the Corinth men have bor
ed into the ground in search of tin and cop
per. Among these heaps ap^ared, here
and there, the mud cottages of the miners,
and the machinery with which they draw
up the ore and rubbish. I met majiy of
the people of the country on the road, st>mo
driving before them large mules, laden with
ore, and others conveying it in carts. Al
most without exception, they jiulled off their
hats to me in a respectful manner, as the
pri.pie of .\ew-England do to a stran^r.
11 appeared to be an evidence of the simplici
ty of their lives, and of their freedom from
the archness and impudence of the lower or
ders in great cities. But, this decent res
pect for strangers appears not to be grow
ing up with the rising generation, for, not
one of the numerous children whom I met,
j>aid me the least attention.
Tiediuth IS in the centre of the mining
countrj. It 13 a village of some conse-
qjtricp, built of granite, which is called
Moor-stone, in Cornwall, and having a paved
5treet. I'ornwall has abundance of gran
ite, in uhich the constituent parts of this
it^>ne are remarkably large and distinct. It
i- uM;d here for monuments of ever)' de
scription. t)n the road from Launceston, I
observed a number of crosses, which were
erected in Roman Catholic times, and, hav
ing some how or other, e9ca|»ed the zeal of
the reformation, are now used aa milestones
and land-marks.
A gentleman at Bristol to whom I was
mtroduccd having learned from me my in
tended route, and the views by which I was
actuated in travelling, gave me, of his own
accord, a circxtlar letter of introduction, a
tliiiiff which w as as new to me as it was kind
in iiim. The letter was addressed to Mr.
at Redruth, and to twenty or thirty
more, who lived in the different towns thro’
wiiich I intended to travel, and in other
parts of the kingdom;—their names were
arranged in acolumn, with the places of their
respective residences annexed, and the au-
tlior subjoined an introduction and recom-
rnendatioa which was to lie considered as
addressed to the whole number d'the friends
lie had named; and, to give the thing the
utmost latitude, there was a concluding
clause recommending me to all other per-
s >ns who had any know ledge of the author.
Tli(> first use which I made of this ample
instrument was to make myself known to
jVfr. R of Kednith, by whom I was re
ceived with the greatest kindness. W ith
him I went to see a lofty hill near Redruth,
called Carnbre. Its sides and tops are cov-
*;red with detached rcx^ks of granite, some
yf which are of vast size, and on the sum
mit of the hill is a small ca-stle, the walls of
which have braved the elements for many
centuries, and will continue to stand after
the present iieneratioo IS in the dust. There
is no account of the founder. It stands up
on an almost inaccessible pinnacle, com[K)»-
ed of huge rocks of granite.
Lord Dedunstanville, within whose do
mains It is, has erected a door, stojfped the
w indows, and covered the tjp of the walls
with sheet lead, in order to prevent the far-
ther decay of this venerable structure.
On this hill, within a thick wood, which
Ibrmerlv existed here, it is believed that the
British Diuids had one of their mysterious
retreats; and, some monumeiib*, consisting
principally of circular heaps of stone, are
attributed” to them. There is one rc»ck
w tiich is very remarkable; it lies on the
fijrfuce of the'ground, and would fill a small
rfKjin. On its top are scoojied out a num
ber of deep and regular cavitives, generally
'jirciilar, or elliptical, and apjiearin;,' to have
b*;en evidently a work of art. One cavi-
t\, which in form is different from the oth
ers, is no shaped as just to receive a tiuman
Loty, laid out at length, with the arm^ ex-
to'ided, and the feet close together. 1 made
the fcx;'eriiiieiit by ly ing down in the cavi-
tr, on iny buck, in the matmer just now de-
st;ribrd, and fmind that it exactly received
me. At the f“Ct th* re is an outlet cut thro’
the side of the rfx:k. It is Ixilieved by ina-
i,y that in tins plai;e thf, Druids put to deatli
their huinaii victiina, lnyinj' tliein with aw-
ltd solemnity in this sacn d cavity; it is
bupposed thdt the (ither cavities in the rock
were used to contain consecruled vessels or
fluids, or, that they were, in n»;ue other
manner, auxiliary to the iminoUtion.
As we descended from tliis hill, 1 had well
liigh fallen into the shaft of an ancient and
long neglected mine, which was completely
o\ergrown with bushes, and so hidden by
tlien', that my feet failed me before I was
aware of my danger; hap[)ily, 1 t'dl forward
with so imi'h force, as to catch hold of the
shrul>s, and to throw myself partly on to the
side of the pit; otherwise I might ha»e gone
down, I know not what dreadful distance.
It 18 aslonishing that such plac«!« should be
k fl exposed, but familiarity with danger ap-
jtearft almojst always to produce negligence
and iiidiHcrencc in those who are exposed
to it.
In the afternoon I went with Mr. R ,
to visit some objects of curiosity a few miles
from Redruth, but a heavy rain arrested our
progress, and as we were in a gig without
a top, we were completely drenched before
we .irrived again at the village. 1 return
ed to the inn, and betook myself to the em
ployments which are mv usual solace in
those numerous hours, when, separated from
my country and the objects of my early at
tachment, I long for the consolations of so
ciety, and the delightful intlueuce of the
t'ace of a friend.
[To ht continued.)
W’e copy fiom tlie Boston Courier, the following
beautiful Song, sunj; by Uic Senior class at Har-
yard College, at the closo of the Exercise* prc
viouB to their separation from College. It is
from the pen of Robert Hahtrsham, ot Savan
nah, Gcorg^ia.
A KIND FARE^VELI. TO ALL.
We part for aye ;—no more we meet
Within Uiis sacnd hall;
Tiien bhould we not iike Iricnds repeat
Une kind tarewcll to all 7
A long farewell,—a last farewell,
A kind farewell to all;—
Oh, let us give, ere yet we part,
One kind farewell to all.
We love this long familiar ground ;
Tho«t! days ot' piace are o’er;
No longer here our voice »hall sound,
Wc worship here no more.
A long farewell, &iC,
Oh ! cold is he, whose soul can find
No memories when we part;
When mind so long has mixtd with mind.
And heart has linked with heart;
A long farewell, &c.
Toeether hare wc spent these years,
I'licse years that tly so last;
Top-'ther telt the joys and c»re«.
That consecrate the past;—
A long farewell, &c.
Our heart* are now unj^alled with strife,
Kir hearts are free and fair ;
But we can never meet in life
With hearts that we have here.
A long farewell, iic.
In life will many a sorrow keep
The warmth of feelinf; down ;
And many a mark and w rinkle deep
Record misfortune’s frown.
A long farewell, &c.
When grief shall rust the feeling heart,
When sorrow crush the soul,
'rheye ptaceful scents from which we part
WiJl o’er the memory roll.
A long farewell, &c.
W« part for aye ;—no more wc meet,
Within tins sacred hall;
Then slwuld we not hke friends repeat,
A kind farewell to all 7
A long farewell, a last farewell,
K kind farewell to all :
Oh : let us give, ere yet we part,
One kind farewell to all.
From the fitw-Enirland Galaxy.
TO -i .SKI LL.
Grim monitor! I come to gaze on tliec—
I’hoii certain type of an uiictrtain thing—
Once moving at the will of changeful man,
Now motionJ. ss and changtlei!s as the blue
>f highest Heaven. Thou weit a part of man ;
tiod ! w hat a comment on the vanity
Of high-aspiring mortal. 'I'liou, pcrchance.
Belonging to bome monk—poor fad*’d skull—
Wert bowed before another in the cell
Of cloistervd continence—1 Ibund thee mixed
With the remains of court. lans, and men
Of jihameless wassail. Or, fftrchance, thou wert
.V portion of tlie warrior, and went forth
Bt ncath a burning bmner—poor renown !
The Conqueror fallctli to the self same sod
.\s the crush’d conquered—this is warlike fame !
Where is thy soul !—an echo answers—where 7
Is it np beyond yon soft, warm air,
(For tliere, men say, is Heaven; pouring forth
Tones of rich music to tiie seraph’s string*—
Singing by ever falling, nevcr-s[)cnt
Waters of purity, that gurgle on
Where Time is not, ages but a point ?
Or is It crushed to sinking in the depth
Of p&laces of fire—revived to t«!cl
The w« ight of fiercer torments—tndless wo,
.Never atoning for a point of crime 7
I wiU not think of this—[xwr !»enB« le»* thing—
With thine infernal and tlernal grin—
But I will come to thee, when hope is low,
-And scorn liangs round me like a clanking chain
Of fiery metal—and we two will laugh.
Thou, with thy silent, endless, sculptured sneer.
And 1 with o;>en mirth. The dead skull smiles!
‘ Death laughs,’ for Death, hke Life, is but a jest.
fork, the project was viewed by the public
cither with indifference, or with coiifempt,
as a visionary scheme. My friends, indeed,
were civil, but they were shy. 'I hey lis
tened with patience to my explanations, but
with a settled cast of incredulity on their
countenances. I felt the full force of the
lamentation of the poet,
“Truths would you teach to save a sinking land,
■VU shun, none aid you, and few understand.”
As I had occasion to pass daily to and
from the building yard, w hile iiiy beat was
in progress, I have ol\ened loitered, unknown,
near the idle group of strangers, gpfhering
in little circles, and heanl various inquiries
as to the object of this new vehicle. The
language was uniformly that ot scorn, or
sneer, or ridicule. The loud laugh often
rose at my exf^ense; the di-y jest, the wise
calculation of losses and e\()iMiditures ; the
dull but endless reputation of the I'ulton
Folly. Never did a single encouraging re-
mark, a bright ho|)e, or a warm wish, cross
my path. Silence itself wa« hut politeness
veiling its doubts, or hiding its reproaches
At length the day arrived when the exix'ri
ment w as to be put into operation. I in
vited many friends to go on Uiard to w it
ness the fii-st successful trip. Many of them
did me the favor to attend, as a matter ol
fiersonal resjiect; but it was nianifest, that
ihey did it with reluctance, fearing to Ik*
the partners of my mortification, and not ol
my triumph. I was well aware, that in
any case there were many reasons to doubt
of my success. The machinery was new
and ill-made; many |*artsof it was construc
ted by mechanics unaccustomed to such
w ork; and unexpected dillicullies might rea
sonably be presumed to present them>elves
from other causes. The moment arrived,
in which the word was to be given for the
vessel to m ne. .My friends were in groups
on the deck. There was anxiety mixed
with fear among them. 'I’hey were silent,
snd and weary. 1 read in their looks noth
ing iHit disjurtcr, and almost repented of my
efforts. 1 he signal was given, and the
boat moved on u short di.>,tance, and then
stopped, and became imniovtable. To the
silence of the preceding nwineut now suc-
ceedetl murmurs of discontent, and agita
tions, and whispers, and shrugs. I could
heardistinctly rej)ealed, “ I told you it would
be so, it is a foolish .scheme, I wish we were
all out of It.” I elevated myself upon a
platform, and addre.ssed the assembly. 1
.'tated, that I knew not what was the mat-
ter; but if they would be quiet, and indulge
me for a half hour, I would either go on, or
abandon the voyage for that time. 'I’his
short respite was cnic^ded without objec-
I tion. I went below, examined thu machiue-
Iry, and discovered that the cause was a
slight mal-adjuitirient of some of the work.
In a short time it was obviated. The boat
was again put in motion. !She continued to
move on. All were still incredulous. None
seemed willing t« trust the evidence of their
own senses. Wc left the fair city of New-
York ; wc passed through the romantic and
ever varying scenery of the highlands; we
descried the clustering hou8«'3 of AHmny ;
we reached its shore ; and then, even then,
when all seemed achieved, I wa-s the vic
tim of disai»pointment. Imagination super
seded the influence of fa«;t. It was then
doubted, if it could be done again; or if
compriscl, in the short compass of fifty
years I Every where practicable, every
where efficient, it has an arm a thousand
times stronger than that of Hercules, and
to which human ingenuity is capable of fit
ting a thousand times as many hands as be
longed to Uriareus. Steam is found, in tri
umphant operation, on the seas, and under
the influence of its strong propulsion, tlie
gallant ship
“ Against the wind, against the tide,
Still ittudiei, witli upright keel!"
It is on the river, and the boatman may re-
|K)se on his oars ; it is in highways, and be-
gins to e.\ert itself along the courses of lanil
conveyance; it is at the bottom of mines,
a thousand feet U'low the earth’s surface;
it is in the null, and in the workshojis of
traders. It rows, it pumps, it e.xcavates, it
carries, it draws, it lil\s, it hammers, it spins,
it weaves, it prints. It seems to say to men,
at least to the class of artizans, “ leave of!
your manual labor, give over your bodily
"toil; bestow but your skill and reason to
the directing ot’ iiiy power, and I w ill bear
the toil,—with no mux-le to grow weary,
no nerve to relax, no breast to fin;! faintness.”
OFFENSIVE BREATH.
Sweetness of the breath is intimately
dependent upon a perfectly healthy condi
tion of the mouth and digestive organs gene
rally ; hence, whatever tends to induce dis-
easi* in these parts, very generally renders
the breath more or less ofTensive.
One of the most common causes of bad
breath is neglect of the teeth and gums;
causing the first to decay, and the latter to
become spongy and of a livid colour, and to
bleed from the slightest injury. To pro-
s«jrvc, therefore, the breath pure, the mouth
should be frequently rinsed and gargl^
with tepid water, especially al\er rising in
the morning,and sub^quently to each meal:
every particle of food which has insinuated
itself between the teeth should be carefully
removed by a pointed quill or splinter of
wood, and the gums frequently rubbed with
an appropriate brush.
The intemperate in eating have most com
monly an oflensive breath, especially thus*
w ho indulge to excess in large quantities of
animal food. In all the cases on reconl of
enormous eaters, (jHirsons affected w ith what
is teriiK'd canine appetite) it u mentmned,
that their bn'ath and the exhalations from
the surface of their bodies were peculiarly
oflensiye. It is a curious fact, loo, that
most of the carniverous unimala have a fetid
brt;alh, while that of the graininiverous is
devoid of all unpleasant odxir.
'I'hr use of tobacco, whether in chewing
or smoking, gives a strong and highly dis
agreeable taint to the breath ol the individ*
uuls who indulge in it, and which cannot
be got rid of by ihc mcjst scrupulous atten
tion to washing and cleansing the mouth, so
long as the habit is persisted in.
'I'he u.se of snuff, also, occasions general
ly an offensive state of the breath, particu
larly w hen prat:ticcd to a great extent.-—
We are acquainted w ith a very amiable and
learned individual, whose breath ha.“, from
this cause, been rendered most disgustmgly
fetid.
Bad breath is occasionally dependent up
on the existence of ulcers in the thrnat and
lungs; Ujt the presence of theso ulcers w ill
be indicated by other symptoms, preventin';
the patient from mingling in society, and
We find the following elocjuent paragraph,
from the pen of Chaniiiiig, as a text for a
well w ritten essay, in the Bengal Chronicle:
“ No matter w hat race of animals a coun
try breeds—The great question is, does it
breed a noble race of iiieii'! No mutter w hat
its s,jil may be. The gn-at tjuestion is, how
far is it prolific of moral and intellectual
[tower. * * NVhat is liberty ? The re
moval of restraint from human powers. Its
benefit is, that it o(»ens new fields for nction,
and wider ruiige for the mind. '1 he only
freedom worth {tos.sessing, is that which
gives enlargement to the people’s energy,
mt*^llcct, and virtue—which calls forth the
highest faculties and energies; which gen
erates fVuitfuhiess of invention, force of mo
ral purpose, a thirst for the true, and a de-
hgtit in the beautiful. * ‘ Tlie true
soverfigns of a country are those who do-
termine its mind, its iiuhIcs of thinking, its
tastes. Its principles. In Europe, ftohtical
and artificial distinctions, have, more or le.ss, pa„em irom mingnn*;
triumphed over and obscured our common 1^^^^ hima proiKsr subject for medical
nature. Man does not there value himself
ais man. It is for his blood, his rank, or |
some artificial distinctian, and not for the
attributfs of husnanily, that he holds him
self in respect.”
MAY YOU DlE.\.MONO YOl'R KINDRED
OT (JSI.1..NWUOD
It IS a sad thing to feel that we niu-t die
away from our home. 'I'ell not the invalid
who is yearning after his distant country
that the atmosphere around him is sof^i
that the gales are filled wiih balm and the
(lowers arc springing from the green earth ;
—he knows that the softest air to hi.*! heart
would be the air which haugi over his na
tive land ; that more grateful than all the
gales of the s^>uth, would breathe the low
whis|»ersof anxiousafl*.*cti«rti; that the very
icicles clinging to his owu eave«j, and the
snow beating against his own windows,
would be far more pleasant to his eyes, than
the bUxJiB and verdure which only more
forcibly remind him how far he is from that
one sjjot which is dearer to him than tfie
world beside, lie may indeed, find esti-
I j k.. I .r .t !■#. II. «,1p of mable friends, who will do all in their pow-
tlone. It was doubted if it coold be made of
any great valui. ^ canmjt supply the place of
huch was tiic history ol trie first cxp6ri-! fr , , ^ #i « i
* » r II th-> vprv the loii« known and tlic luug loved; iht'y
rnent, it fell, not m the very 1 g book, the mute lan-
which I have u^l, but in lU ,,^ve not learned to
from the hps of the .men ON his habits; and ant,c.,«te his
live indeed to enjoy the ull ^ ^ ^-ants, Vtid he has not learned to co.nmuni-
ventioii. It is S’i}' cate, without hesitation, all his wishes, im-
were made to rob him in the 'rst p ace of . thoughts, to them. Ile feels
ftie merits of ms invention, aiid ih xt of its ^ „tranger, and a rnort^ des,late
fruits. He lell a victim to his rflorts to .sus- ^ ^ _
tain ^h iTow mud. IS express..d by that form of o-
ed forwarl to far more extensive operations, j
A!y ultimate triumph, he used to say, my j /{yporhondrinsis, ur the Jilue Dctih.—
ultimate triumph will be on the Mississippi, j \\^ |x>lieve a merry coiniKiiiiou
i know, indeed, that even now it is deemed ha|piest fdlow in the world, and envy
mqxjssible by many, that the difficulties ol j f»erhaps, hinlight heart imdairy spirits;
Its navigation can be overcome. Hut I am hours of melancholy,
confident of success. I m.iy not live to see, the spirits sink, and a gloom comes
It; but the Mississippi will yet be covered j tlicin, dee|ier and darker, than is eVer
by steamboats; and thus an entire change I ijno^n to their less excitable companions,
be wrought in the course of the internal | ,pgy b«; cheerful on paper, though
navigation and commerce of our country. i jjc has a heavy heart, and is brilliant in com-
And It has been wrought. A nd the steam-j p,.,ny (hough sufHcitntly wretched w hen
IxKif, looking to its eflect« upon commerce |(ft to commune with his own soul. I he
and navigation, to the combined .niluences I extremes of high and low s[»irits, which OC'
of facilities of travelling and facilities of > in the Fame |>ersf)n at diflcrent times
trade, of rapid circulation of news, and still hapjiily lUustratcd by tlK* following ease*
pulse thus given to mechanical pursuits, that more rapid circulation of pleasures and pro- ^ i-^iated by I)r. Kush :—A Physician in one
Dr. Darwin, more than forty years ago, ducts, seems destined to be numb»;red among , the cities of Italy wa.s once consulted by
broke out iu strains equally remarkable for j the noblest benefiictions to the human race, j ^ j^entlcman who was much distressed by a
their poetical enthusia.sm, and prophetic I have passed a.side from my principal j paroxism of the intermitting state of hypJ-
truth, and predicted the future triumph of; purpose to give in this history ol the steam-! choi.drnuism. He advised the melancholy
b(»at, a slight illu>tration of the slow pro-1 to wiek relief m convivial company,
gress of mventioi.H. It may not be unac- j recoinmendcd him in particular to find
ceptable, as a tribute to the memory of a ; ^^t a celebrated w it by the name of (Jardmi,
man, who united in him.self a great love of | ^.(,o ^ppt all the tables of the city, to which
science with an unexlinguishable desire to jjg invited, in a roar of laughter, and to
render it subservient to the practical busi- mijch time with him as possible.”
ne.ss of life. j sir,” said the [wtient with a hca-
How abundantly has the pro]»hetic vision , yy gig|,^ 4i | that (’ardmi.”
POW E/l OF STKA.n.
The annexed extracts are taken from a
discourse by Judge Storv, u{h>i. the pro
gress of im|)roven.(‘nts eflccted by steam.—
The narrative of t i lton, which he intro
duces, describes the emmeiit man’s feelings
on the first successful trial of hisexfierimeiit.
It was in reference to the astonishing im
the steam engine
“Sofjn sliall thy arm, unconquered steam, afar
Drag the slow barge, or drive th, rapid car;
Or on wide, waving wings expanded bear
■J'he flying chariot through the field* ol air :—
Fair crew triumphant, leaning from aliove,
.''Imll wave their flultering kerchiets as they move,
Or warrior liands alarm the ga;»ing crowd,
And armies ithrink beneath the shadowy cloud.”
W hat would he have sa.d, if he had but of Fi.lto.. U;en nali/Zid, that “his triumph
. . /-I .1 .1 .. ■ II, I
livf'd to witness the immortal invention of
Fulton, which sfjeins almost to move in the
air, and to fly on the wmgs of the wiml!—
And yet how slowly did this enterprize ob
tain the public favor. 1 myself have heard
the illastnous inventor relate, in animated
and afifccting maniM;r, the history of his la-
liors and discouragements. VVhen,said he,
I was building uiy first steam boat at New-
Mfd. t'hir. K('ctcir.__
was to lie on the .Mississippi!” how griev-1 —i
, 1 . ' , I hr InrinUf ruildr.—In the ifiun iij lint,
ous to think that, while its waters are cov- ( ^ puhkMhed, the author rceeives a ,K,lite
trcd with steamlioats which Ins genius »*.-t; „,vitation from a gli.w to ramble
in motion, his family has not, in these I ni-
ted .States, a home they can call their own.”
The siibjo.iied remarks, on the san.e sub
ject, were made by Damel Wlbstkk :—
In comparison with the past, what cen
tunes of uiipro\CHicnt hu'J tjiis single agent j ertj
••'riirough realms tnciBthli where he should Si-e
Vice, virtue, recompensed."
The only wsy for a rich rnin to live healthily if,
by exercise snd aMinence, to live .f he were
pojr, which are u.iteem’jd the worst patts of pov-
treatment.
One of the most common causes, howe
ver, of offcn.'ive breath is indulgence in in
toxicating drinks. Ot the detestable efflu
via exhaled from the mouth of a drunkard,
all who have had occasion to approach one
must have bt-en rendered *ensiblc. Nor is
it merely bv the iwe of intoxicating drinks
to the extent of occa.>noiiing ebriety, that
the sweetne»s of the breath is d»*stroyed;
their daily u.-e, tv-en m small cjiantitii;s,
will produce u !>imilar etfcct, tbuugh not,
probably, to the same extent.
To preserve the breath pur«, daily exer
cise in the open a.r ii all important. Upon
this, .n ctmnexion with t» in[i«raiKC, depends
the licalthy condition of the mouth »nd stom
ach, a-s well as of all the fluids aiul exhal-
ations of the body. 'I'he “ balmy breath”
of the temperate hutibandinon presents iv
strong contrast to the off^-nsive bn‘^ithing*
of the indolent citizen, the si-tisuah«t, or sot.
[Jntirnal >/ iltaltk.
The tone of society in I’aris is very far
from John I’ullisli. They do not a^k what
a man is worth, or wheltier his father is
the ow nerofa tiu mine or borough—but w hat
he hns to sav, whether he is amiable and
Kpirilud. fn that case (unless a marriags
IS on the tapi.s) no one inquires w hether his
account at his banker’s is high or low ; or
whether he has come in hia carriage or o«
foot. An English soldier of fortune, or a
great traveller, is listened to with some at
tention as a marked charactcr; while a
booby lord is no more regarded than his
own footman in livery, 'l lie blank after a
man’s name is expecKid to be filled up with
talent «>r adventures, or he passes for what
he really is—a cypher.—lAmrjHwl Cour.
SrNDAV, is, by many millions of persons
in France, Italy, (Jermany, Ate. profe-ssors
of f-hristianity, .set aside for dancing parties
m the aftcmojn, and evening atteiwlance at
the theatres. Arc. In other countries, it is
the favorite seiison for cock-fighting, hon»ft
racing, and other like “ sports.” In Eng
land and the United States, the day is pre-
fi;rred by many hundrcils of thm:;iands fiir
excessive eating and drinking, with much
sleeping, and not a little wrangling and fight
ing—and we sec that iiiChili it isappjmted
for hohling the elections—to hurrah for fh«
ins, or hurrah for the outs.-. A’l/fs’ RefriiUi r.
Tiinxy.—This herb may frequently Ikj
oliserved growing in the country church
yards, w hich iiwluces us to th.nk it waa for
merly used as a funeral plant. Tan.sy has
this iKJcuhaf virtue, that if any dead animal
suljstance In? rubb«;d with it, the fh'»4i fly
will not attack it. Iloerhuve says, tho
leaves ai>plied to a d'*ad lx)dy, and iiitnidcd
into the mouth aiidno-trils, pre.serve it fror»
put refaction and insects; whence the plant
has lieen called Athomma, that is, immor
tal plant.—ExcUt ;V« « * Litter.
Ihiy.—\n Russia it is usual to pres»TVO
the natural verdure of hay. .■V« soon as the
gras iscut, it is, w ithout having l»een spread,
formed into a rick, in the centre of which
has been previously placed a kind of chim
ney, made of four rough planks. It s('cms
that the heat of the fermentation evaporates
by this chimney; and that the hay thus re
tains all its leaves, its color and its prina-
five flavor.