176
SELECT POETRY.
v For tha Christian Observer.
LAST WORDS OF A WIFE.
When death shall claim me for his prize,
As suddenly he may,
And heaven shall flash upon my eyes.
It's pure unclouded ray
JWilt thou, in sullenness repine,
And in thy grief rebel ?
Or, meekly say, the hand is Thine
Who docth all things well"
Thou wilt not meet the well known face
"When twilight's hour shall come;
And it may seem a desert place,
And not thy much-loved home.
Then, gatherv'uiidst thy saddening fearSj
The prattlers round thy knee,:
And wipe, with softest hand, the tears
That each will shed for me.
Soothe, if thou canst, each throbbing heart
That calls forme in vain;
And tell them, in the far off heaven
i
Their mother Uvea again.
Link not her name with dread of death,'
But point them to the sky ;
r And whisper, in that better land
They never weep nor die.
Go with them to their lonely couch,
At evening's silent close,
. And softly press the pillowed cheek,
And hush-to sweet repose;
Yet, not till eactewith clasped hands
Has lisped the evening prayer,
For thou mustjblend a father's love
With all a mother's care. '
A mother's care, a mother's love !
. And must they never know
How deeply in her " heart of hearts,"
A mother's love may glow ?
Will they yet bloom to vigorous youth,
While she who gave them birth
Lies nil forgotten, f;ir away,
In a lone spot of earth ?
Forgotten ! can' it be ? Oh, no !
Thou wilt remember still,
The being who hath shared thy lot,
! Alike for good or ill ;
Oft wilt thou think of all her love,.
With faithful, fond regret, '
And, but the faults she could not hide.
Thy heart will e'er forget, ,
Oft wilt thou tread thesacred spot,
Where the green willow waves,
And lead our children's tiny feet
Among the quiet graves;
And weeping, read the sculptured stone,
Brief record of my life, ;
Then say, liow faithfully 1 loved,
As mother and as wife.
How" can I say, farewell to thee?
How mark thy bitter tears ?
Look upward,ove, we only part
1 For a few fleeting years;
Time will roll o'er thy darkened path,
Swift as the shadows flee,
And in a world of holier love,
Will our blest meeting be. '-'
LADIES' DEPARTMENT.
HINTS ABOUT FEMALE EDUCATION.
BY MRS. L. M. CHILD.
The difficulty is, education does not usually point
the female heart to its only true resting-place.
That dear -English word, 41 homcf is not half so
powerful a .talisman as " the world." f -Instead of the
salutary truth, that happiness is tniduty, thev are
taught to consider the two things'totally distinct ;
and that whoever eeks one must sacrifice the other.
The fact is, our girls have no home education.
When quite young, they are sent to schools where
no feminine employments, no domestic habits, can
bo learned; and there they continue till they
"come out" into the world. After this, few find
any time to arnyige, and make use of, the mass of
elementary knowledge they have acquired ; and fewer
still have Either leisure or taste for the inelegant,
every day? duties of life. Thus prepared, they en
ter upon matrimony. Those early habits, which
would have made domestic care a light and easy
task, havenever been-taught, for fear it woqld in
terrupt their happiness; and the result is that,
when cares come, as come they must, they find
them misery. I fin convinced that indifference
. and dislke between husband and wife, are more
frequently occasioned by this great error in educa
tion, than by any other cause.
The bride is awakened froni her delightful dream,
in which carpets, vases, sofas, white gloves, and
pearl ear-rings are oddly jumbled up with her lov
er' looks and promises. Perhaps she would be
surprised if she knew exactly how much of the
fascination of being engaged was owing to the
afowaid inanimate concern. Be that t as: it will,
he is awakened by the unpleasaut conviction that
cares devolve upon her. And what effect does this
produce upon her character ? Do the holy and
tender influences of domestic loe render self-denial
and exertion a bliss ? No ! They would have
dou so had she been properly educated-; but now
she gives way to unavailing fretfulness and repin
ing ; and her husband is at first pained, and finally
disgusted, by hearing, "I never knew what care
was when I lived in my father's house." "Ifl
were to live my life over again, I would remain
ingle as long as I could, without the risk of beiug
an old maid.". IIow injudicious, how short sighted
s the policy which thus mars the whole happiness
of life, in order to make a few brief years more gay
and brilliant! I have known many instances of
domestic ruin and discord produced by this mista
ken indulgence of mothers. never knew but one
where the victim had moral courage enough to
change all her early habits. She was a young,
pretty, and very amiable girl, but brought up to be
perfectly useless : a rag baby would, to all intents
and purposes, have been as efficient a partner. She
married a young lawyer without property, but with
good and increasing practice. She meant to be a
goad wife, but she did not know how. Her waste
; fulness involved him in debt. He did not reproach,
' though he tried to convince and instruct her. She
loved him ; and, weeping, replied, " I try to do
the best I:an ; but, when I lived at home, mother
always took care of everything." Finally, poverty
came upon him M like an armed man," and he went
into a remote town va the Western States to teath
chool. His wife folded her hands and cried,
while he, weary, and discouraged, actually came
home fromnschool to cook his own supper. At last
his patience, and her real love for him, impelled her
to exertion. She promised to learn to be useful, if
he would teach her And she did learn ! And
. the change in her habits gradually wrought such a
change in her husband's fortune, that she might
bring her daughters up in idleness, had not experi
ence taught her that economy, like grammar, is a
very tjiresome study, after we are twenty years
old.
APPEAL TO PARENTS.
Encourage your children to be orderly , and stu
diously to regard right.
Youth are frequently terrpted, by the example
of vicious associates, to violate the rules of good
behavior, and spend their titrle in idle mischief, or
vain pursuits.. As iyou cannot always keep them
removed from pernicious influences, and depraved
companions, do all in your power to form in'them
an abhorrence of all that is evil, and a deep regard
for everything that is " lovely and of good report."
So train them, that' they may come in contact with
vice without being contaminated ; nay, more than
this, that their own upright conduct, and pure con
versation, may exert a salutary influence upon those
who manifest no love for virtuous acts.-
Iraprove every fit opportunity to impress upon
their minds the ruinous consequences of vice and
idleness ; and, at the same time, show them that,
" Wisdom's ways are pleasantness, and all her paths
are peace." Teach them to avoid trifling devia
tions, to do right at all times and on all occasions,
'because tis right, and because, by so; doing, they
will be more happy and useful. Teach them that
it is betterUo "suffer wrong than toVo wrong;"
and that th4 fac t, that wrong has been done to
them, is no reason why they should do wrong in
return. Tell them that kindness will allay wrath,
and that it is more noble and manly to return
" good for evil," than to give "reviling for reviling "
Teach them to feel that if they would be truly
wise, and great, and happy, they must first be truly
good.
Encourage your .children to be studious, by man
ifesting an interest 'in their lesson..
-Improve every suitable occasion to converse with
them concerning their studies : and do all you can
to convince them, that the more diligent and faith
ful they are now, the brighter will be their pros-'
pects for future usefulness and happiness Do all
in your power to 'inspire them with a lave for
knowledge, as a source of gratification and im
provement. Ia the morning, enjoin upon them the
great importance of diligence during the hours of
school; and at tn'gjit, inquire respecting the studies
of the day, and ascertain what ik-w ideas have
been acquired, what facts have been stored up, what
difficulties overcome, what kindly acts performed,
Induce them to examine, to investigate, to think.
In a word. do all you can to cause them to feel
the great advantages; of education, and the necAsi
ty of patient application to obtain it. You will
thus increase their! interest, and cause them to re
gard with pleasurej exercises that would, otherwise,
appear dull and unimportant.
Cultivate, in your children, habits of trite polite
ness and courtesy.
True education requires the full development and
exercise of the' better feeimgs of the heart, and the
proper culture of hese will exhibit themselves in
outward actions and expressions. Indeed, we are
much inclined to
orm an estimate of those with
f i ,
associate, from their mode of ad
whom we meet or
dress, and from external appearances. If they are
coarse and rude in their maimers, rouirh and un
dignified in their salutations and remarks, or un
co.urteous and abrijipt in "their answers, we are in
clined to avoid thjjm, and regard them as unkind
and uncompanionable. We do not expect to find
much that is attractive in them ; and, if they possess
some worthy qualities, their first appearance is so
repulsive, that we: are hardly prepared to witness
any subsequent evidence of real humanity and
goodness. Teacher and Parent.
5 i --- .
Removing a - RjxG from a Young Ladys Fin
ger. Dr. Castlej communicates to the Boston
Medical and Surgical Journal, the following ingen
ious method, devised by him, for extrieatipg a young
lady's finger from ki ring which was too small for
her. We give his story in his own language :
An interesting young-lady abcAit seventeen years
of age had presented to her a gold ring, which she
forced over the joints of her middle finger. After
a few minutes the' finger commenced swelling, and
the ring-could not be removed. . The family phy
sician, Dr. , was sent for, but could do noth
ing. The family,! and the young lady especially,
were now in the greatest consternation. A jewel
ler was sent for. After many futile attempts to
cut the ring with cutting-nippers, and to saw it
apart with a fine1 saw, and after bruising and lac
erating the flesh, warm fomentations and leeches
were applied, but all without affording the slight
est benefit. Dr. requested my presence, with
the compliment that 'perhaps my mechanical in
genuity might suggest something.' I at once pro
ceeded to the house of the patient, and found the
young lady in a most deplorable state of mental
agony,-the doctor embarrassed, and the family in
a high .state of excitement. - I procured'some pre
pared chalk, and applied it between the ridges of
swollen flesh, and all around the finger, and suc
ceeded in drying the oozing and abraded flesh ;
then, with a narrow piece of soft linen I succeed
ed in polishing the ring, by drawing it gently round
the ring between the swollen parts. I then ap
plied quicksilver to the surface of the ring. In
less than three minutes the ring was broken (bv
pressing it together) in four pieces, to the great
relief of all parties.
" In a similar manner without the chalk I
some time since extracted a small brass rintT from
the ear of a child, who, child-like, had inserted it
-into the cavity of its ear. The operation was more
painful and tedious but was equally successful.
M The modus operandi. The quicksilver at once
permeates the metals, if clean, (with the exception
of iron, steel, platina, and one or two others,) and
amalgamates with them. It immediately crystal
izes and renders the metal as hard and as brittle as
glass, lie nee the ease with which metals amalga
mated with quicksilver can be broken."
General happiness can have no other basis than
he universal law. of justice and love.
' YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT.
ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL-
This magnificent edifice stands on high ground,
in the centre of the city of London, and is a noble
object'of admiration for miles around. It is one
of the largest buildings dedicated to religious pur
poses in the world being second only to the Ro
man Catholic eathedral of St. Peter at Rome. The
present church occupies the site of an ancient cath
edral of the same name, which, after having weath
ered the storms of several centuries, was so severe
ly injured by the great fire of London, in 1666, as
to be deemed insecure. It was therefore removed,
and the present noble pile erected " a lasting me
morial of the genius of its great architect, Sir Chris
topher Wren." It is a fact, worthy of notice, that
the erection of this cathedral, which occupied thirty
five years, was performed under tha superintendence
of one architect, the work undertaken and prose
cuted entirely under one contractor, and the whole
completed whilst one bishop occupied the episcopal
chair. It cost the country a mi lion and a half in
its erection, which sum was raised by a small tax on
coal.
The building covers an area of two acres sixteen
perches, and is erected in the form of a" Greek cross.
Over that part where the lines of this cross inter
sect each other, a stately dome tower$& the skies ;
this is surmounted by a lantern, embellished with
Corinthian columns ; and above the whole is placed
a ball of gilt copper, terminated by across likewise
gilt; the weight of this ball is five thousand six
hundred pounds, and of the cross three thousand
six hundred. At the foot of the lantern is a bal
cony, from which the dizzy eye can survey the mag
nificent wonders of the great metropolis below.
The principal entrance is ornamented by numer
ous lofty pillars of the Corinthian order, and coi(js
sal figures of the four Evangelists, together with St.
Paul, St. Peter, and St. James. The clock is ajso
situated here; the dial is fifty-seven feet in circum
ference, or nearly twenty feet in diameter ; the
length of the minute hand is eight feet, and of the
hour hand five feet five inches, and the pendulum
is forty feet long, carrying at its extremity a' weight
equal to one hundred and twelve pounds. , The
marble statue in front, represents Queen Anneiin
her robes of state, holding in her hands the emblems
of royalty. In the interior are found numerous mon
uments, erected to the memory of the great and
brave of men who have bled for their country, in
battles by sea and land, and of others who have
carved out for themselves niches in the temples de
void by fame to the votaries of art, of science, or
of literature. But the most noble monument lis
that dedicated to the memory of the master spirit,
who designed the wonderful work we now describe.
His worth is told in Latin, on a. marble slab erected
over the entrance to the choir. Translated into
English, it reads thus :
" Beneath lies Christopher Wren, the architect
of this church and city, who lived more than ninety
years, not for himself alone, but for the public.
Reader, do you seek his monument, look around !"
The interior surface of the dome is beautifully
embellished by a series of paintings, by Sir James
ThornhiH, illustrative of the extraordinary events
-in the life of St. Paul. An anecdote is related, that
when the gifted artist was painting this cupola, a
gentleman, of his acquaintance was one day with
him on the scaffolding, which, though wide, was
not railed ; he had just finished the head of one of
the apostles, and, running back, as it is customary
with painters, to observe' the effect, had almost
reached the extremity; the gentlemen, seeing his
danger, and not having time for words, snatched
up a large brush, and smeared the face Sir James
ran hastily forward, crying out, "Bless my soiilj
what have you done ?" " I have saved your life P'
replied his friend. Within this dome is the whis
pering gallery, long famed for its extraordinary re
verberation of sound ; it is reachexLafter ascending
two hundred and eighty steps, and from it you
have the best view of the paintings which adorn
the interior of the dome.
The great bell weighs four tons and a quarter,
and is ten feet in diameter. It is tolled only on the
death of a member of the royal family, the lord
mayor, the bishop of the diocese, or the dean of the
cathedral.
In the crypt under the church are deposited the
remains of many who in life were the wisest or the
bravest of their age, and whose deeds are inscribed
on the marble monuments in the sacred edifice
above.
From the American Messenger.
LOVE TO INSTRUCTORS.
I hope you do not forget, dear children, 'every
night and morning, in your prayers to ask God's
blessing on your benefactors. All who have given
yougood advice, or gifts of knowledge, should be
thus remembered. Since useful knowledge is one
of the most precious t attainments, your instructors
should be ranked among your most prominent ben
efactors. Be docile to their directions. Carefully
treasure their precepts. Wh.en youfcease to be
their pupils, consider them as friends. Wherever
you meet them, show them marked respect, with
words and smiles of affection. "Esteem them very
highly in love, for their work's sake." It will be
cheering to their hearts.
It is one way to find out good children, if their
instructors approve and regard them; and by their
love tor their instructors, they also prove their own
wisdom, inasmuch as they justly prize knowledge
and are capable of gratitude. l. h. s.
Breaking the Rules of School. Three broth
ers are confined in the Ohio penitentiary, two for
seven years, and one for three. They, with others,
had tormed a secret society for the purpose of car
rying on a regular business in housebreaking, the
plan ot wnich was tound in their pockets when they
were arrested.
.Now it is well for every boy to know what the
apprenticeship of such a business was, and let them
mark it9 seriously. They began law-breaking by
violating and defying the just rules of school.
Young men and boys are very apt to think it quite
maniy to rebel against rules, and show their inde
pendence of teachers. But it is a very bad sort of
manliness. Submitting to and respecting lawful
authority is just the discipline you need inorder to
be worth any thing. These three boys were ex
pelled from school and from college for wilfully
breaking the laws. Hating all restraint ttey trieS
to get their living by their wits instead of their
labor; and the consequence is, that they are now
confined where public security and justice demand
r
that tliey should be. " The way of transgressor I
is hard." Child's Paper.
FARMERS' Dffln!iTr
From Dr. Johnston's Agricultural Chemistry.
DRAINING.
The practical benefits of draining may be stated
generally as follows :
A. It is equivalent not only to a change of soil,
but also to a change of climate, both in reference
to the growth of plants and to the health of the
population.
B. It is equivalent also.to a deepening of the
soil, both by removing the water and by allowing
those noxious ingredients to be washed out of the
subsoil which had previously prevented the roots
from descending.
C. It is a necessary preparation tot he many other
roeans of improvement which may be applied to
the land.
You will now be able to perceive in what way it
is possible that even light and sandy soils, or such
as lie on a sloping surface, may be greatly benefit
ed by draining. Where no open outlet exists under
a loamy or,sandy surface soil, any noxious matters
that either sink from above, or ooze up from be
neath, will long remain in the subsoil, and render
it more or less unwholesome to valuable cultivated
plants. But let such an outlet be made by the
establishment of drains, and that which rises from
beneath will be arrested, while that which descends
from above will escape. The rain-waters passing
through will wash the whole soil also as deep as
the bottom of the drains, and the atmospheric air
will accompany or follow them.
The same remarks apply to lands which possess
so great a natural inclination as to allow the sur
face water readily to flow away. Such a sloping
surface does not necessarily, dry the subsoil, free it
from noxious substances, or permit the constant ac
cess of the air. Small feeders of water occasional
ly make their way near to the surface, and linger
long in the subsoil before they make their escape.
This is in itself an evil ; but when such springs are
impregnated with iron the "evil is greatly augment
ed, and from such a cause alone a m're or less per
fect barrenness not unfrequently ensues. To bring
such lands by degrees to a sound and healthy state,
a mere outlet beneath is often nlone sufficient.
It is to this lingering of unwholesome waters
beneath, that the origin of many of our moor-lands,
especially on higher grounds, is in a great measure
to be attributed. A calcareous or-a ferruginous
spring sends up its waters into the subsoil. The
slow access of 'air from above, or it may be the es
cape of air from water itself, causes a more or less
ochrey deposit, which adheres to and gradually
cements the stones or earthy particles, among
which the water is lodged. Thus a layer of solid
stone is gradually formed the moor -land fan f
many districts ;which neither allows the roots
of plants to descend nor the surface water to es
cape. Hopeless barrenness, therefore, slowly en
sues. Coarse grasses, mosses, and heath, grow and
accumulate uponjsons not ortjtmuy inclined to
nourish them, and by which a better herbage had
previously been long sustained. Of such lands
many tracts have been reclaimed by breaking up
this moor-land pavement, but such an improvement,
unless preceded by a skilful drainage, can only be
temporary. " The same natural process will again
begin, and the same result will follow, unless an
outlet be provided for tha waters from which the
petrifying deposit proceeds.
It ought to be mentioned, however, that where
a ready passage and escape for the water is provid
ed by an efficient drainage, and especially in light
and porous soils, the saline and other soluble sub
stances they contain will 'be liable, in periods of
heavy, rain, to be more or less completely washed
out and carried off by the Water that trickles through
them. WThile, therefore, the establishment of drains
on all -soils may adapt and prepare them for furth
er improvements, and may make them more grate
ful for every labor or attention that may be be
stowed upon them yet after drainage they must
be more liberally dealt with than before, if the in
creased fertility they at first exhibit is to be per
manently maintained or incre sed.
Alexander Humtolt says, in his Geographic des
Plantes, when speaking of cultivated vegetables or
trees, " Plants are the most sensible .thermoscopes ;
the more or less success with which they are culti
vated indicates the smallest climatic differences."
Long experience has shown to the inhabitants of
Europe which are the kinds and varieties of fruit
which will best succeed with them, and a careful
observer will find that every province, or even every
district, cultivates different varieties of fruit from
that of neighboring provinces, either for market or
home consumption, and that only the gardens of
amateurs or nurserymen contain long lists of vari
eties. "The plants d'scovered iu the ruins of Hercula
neum, Pompeii, and Stabiae, enable us to judge of
the alterations in them during the long period of
1700 years. The remains of plants the painted
plants those in Mosaic, remain to instruct us.
Many of those painted are fanciful. The stone
pine, the Cypress, the Aleppo pine, the dwarf
palm, wheat, barley, millet, no Indian corn, no rice,
broad beans, perfectly like our modern ; asparagus
in bunches, onions,,radishes, turnips, a small gourd,
the olive a glass jar contained olives which' re
tained, their flavor the oleander perfectly the same
with ours ; no lemon, orange, or citron ; the citron
was introduced into Italy in the third century,. 200
years after the cities were buried ; the orange and
lemon still later ; pears, peaches, apples, cherries,
almonds, ; plums, medlars, pomegranates, were
there."
Sheepskiks fob Dook Mats. Take two long
wooled white sheep skins, and make up a strong
lather of soap the sign of proper strength is when
the lather feels slippery between the fingers. When
the lather is cold wash the skins carefully in it,
squeezing them between the hands so as to take all
the dirt out of the wool. When this is accomplish
d, lift out the skins and wash them well in cold
water until all the soap is extracted. Have a ves-'
of clean so!d water rdady, which sbtne alum
and salt (about half a pound) which have been dis
solved in a small qnantity of hot water, are added,
and the skins left to steep all night. They are
taken out in the morning and hung over a pole to
drijp. . When all the alum water has dripped off
they are spread out on a board to dry, and are care
fully stretched, with the hand, from time to time.
Before they are thoroughly dry, a composition of
two tablespoonsful of alum, and the same ot salt
petre are ground to a powder, in a mortar or oth
erwise, and sprinkled carefully on the fleshy side of
each skin. They are then placed the one on top
of the other, leaving the wool outside, and hung
upon a rack of slats, in a barn, shed, or dry, airy
place, for about three days, or until they are dry
they should be turned every day. After this they
are taken down and the fleshy side is scraped with
a blunt knife, and each skin trimmed for a mat.
The flesh side may then be rubbed over with pipe
clay, beat with a switch, and will then be found
supple, of a beautiful white color, and fit for a door
mat for a mechanic or a prince.
KNOWLEDGE FOR THE PEOPLE.
POPULAR CHEMISTRY.
Why is our earth a globe. ?
Because of the general attraction by which all
its' parts are drawu towards each other, that is, to
wards a common centre ; by which means the
mass assumes the spherical or rounded form.
We have interesting instances of roundness from
the same cause in minute masses, as the particles
of a mist of fog floating in air, there, mutually
attracting and coalescing into larger drops, and
then forming rain dew-drops water trickling on
a duck's wing tears dropping from the cheek
drops of laudanum globules of mercury, like pure
silver beads, coalescing when near, and forming
larger ones melted lead allowed to rain down
bom an elevated sieve, which, by cooling as it
descends, retains the form of its liquid drops, aivd
becomes the spherical shot-lead of the sportsman.
Arnott.
Why is the pre?crijtion of medicine by drops an
unsafe method ?
Because, not 'only do drops of fluid from the
same vessel, and often of the same fluid of different
vessels, differ in size, but also drops of the same
fluid, to the extent of a third, from different parts of
the lip of the same vessel.
Why are certain bodies solid ?
Because their parts cohere so firmly as to resist
impression.
Why do blue and yellow poivdirs, when mixed,
Jorm a green powder ?
Because of the mere effect arising in the eye
from the intimate fixture of the ycliow and blue
light separately and independently, reflected from
thejninute particles of each ; and the proof is had
by examining the mixture with a microscope, when
the yellow and blue grains will be seen separately
aud quite unaltered. J. F. W. Herschd.
Why is there a difference in the specific gravity
of different bodies ?
Because one body is larger, or takes up more
room than another of the same weight, when the
and vice versa. ' '
Why will not oil and watsr mix in a vial upon
being violently shaken ?
Because the water and the oil have no affinity
for; each other; but if some caustic ammonia be
added, and the vial them agitated, the whole will
be mixed into au ammoniacal soap. This is what
is called disposing affinity, or uniting bodies, which
apparently have no tendency to unite of themselves,
by the addition of another substance.
Why do small needles float on tcater ?
Because the particles of water cohere among
themselves, and the weight of the needles is not
sufficient to overcome that cohesion.
Why do a pound of water, and a pound of salt
when mixed, form two pounds of brine, but then
occupy much less bulk than when separate ?
Because the atoms of the one are partially receiv
ed into what were vacant spaces in the other. A
similar Condensation is observed in many other
mixtures ; as a pound of sugar in a pound of water.
Tin' and copper, melted together to form bronze,
occupy less space by one fifteenth, than they do
when separate. Arnott.
Why is heat produced on slacking quick-lime ?
Because of the violence of the chemical action,
and the solidification of the water. Iti this process
68 parts of lime solidify 32 parts of water ; but it
is remarkable, that in making what we call lime
water, 500 parts of water are required to dissolve
one part of lime.
Why are not bitter and sweet essential qualities
of matter?
Because, as Dr. W. Herschel has recently dis
covered, the mixing of nitrate of silver with hypo
sulphate of soda, both remarkably bitter substances,
produces the sweetest substance known. Thus,
bitter and sweet, as well as sour, appear not to be
an essential quality in the matter itself, but to de
pend on the proportions of the mixture which
composes it. -
Why has strong salt and water a pellicle (or
film) on its surface ?
Because the attraction of the saline particles for
each other is becoming superior to their attraction
for: the water. This is the common criterion of the
fitness of a solution for crystallization.
Why will not salt crystallize when dissolved in
a considerable quantity of water ?
Because the particles of the salt are ,too far
asunder to exert reciprocal attraction : in other
words, they are more powerfully attracted by the
water, than by each ether. Brande.
Why do cer'ain salts called freezing mixtures)
convert water into ice I
Because, as heat is required to convert solids into
liquids, it follows, that in cases of sudden lique
faction, (as when the salts are dissolved in the wat
er) cold will ensue: hence its production during
the solution of many-saline bodies, and hence, also,
the explication of the theory of freezing mixtures.
Why do'fnany salts; when exposed to the air
effloresce, or fall to powder ?
Because they lose their water of crystallization.
Why do some salts deliquesce, (or become moist
or liquid) by exposure to the atmosphere ?
Because they attract water from the atmosphere.
HUMOROUS.
PnnU PiVTCV- Pc-UfcT V T-
x - ----- - - ; uy rem, Wh0,
cently removed to York, public, .
number of the Musical World and Tim?
lowin r. sketch the text beino- frtk. " !'
in
eAcuauLio nu uayuEucu ,u remark tl
object in nature so beautiful as
young man."
consci,
nti
Well ; I've seen the " Sea-Dog," and TLa-t
and Tom Thumb, and "I
"'um , hi '
Lady," and Father Mathew; the wi,;B:
and Caruille Urso: the " wl."t a
St.nwe :V" Chan tr and Fnvr" .i t ' 30(1
' . o (t "u denny Ljmi
Miss Bremer, and Madame Sonta. u '
to the top of the State House, made the t
"Public Garden" and crossed the "F
I've seen Theodore Parker and a loconinf.
ridden in an omnibus, heard a Fourth-of J I
ti n, and I once saw the sun rise ; but I n .
er saw " a conscientious -young manr '
If there is such an organization on thepe
of this globe, I should like to see him. jfj?
icliere is he ? Who owns him ? Whenf 'j
raise him? What does he feed on ? por 3
does he vote ? On what political platform dot
conscientious toes rest I Does he know the j:ff
ence between a W)ig and a Democrat ? b
"Hunker" and a "Barn-burner ?" betIr'
shell " and a " soft-shell V between a " uniform
tional currency " and a " sound coiitjtutjona
rency ?" Does he ha?e chills, or a fover i, T
sees a wuuei xjkjkh ue iuuk at limit of th
fiesiiL
Aara Tin lirtt lrrlr at. flll ? TV-ioc lm tl,... .1
Of
lCHLUer, uitiun uruuiac,; S'Moroosj'
at sun-down ? and does be rest on an aristocr
perch? -I'm all alive to see the specimen
opera-glasrf.is poised. Can't you give us his r.-
e. .. l Ae.nnnn 9 l i ..
trait? Will he be at the World's Fair? JJ-
Ibe permitted to shake hands with, and con
late him ? I pause for a reply.
. ' Faxkt Few.
. What you may Hear in a Bell; .
ous old philosopher of our acquaintance says
can always tell what kind of master and serv1Eti
there are in an establishment by the waving
the bell is rung and answered. 1 f. the Wilis ri,
sharply, or snappishly, or at all loudly, I SSt t
myself, You are hard masters, impatient, mi,.
ant, making no allowances, and always expect
a thing to be done before it is even asked kai
my suspicions are generally verified by their 155.
ing the bell a second time mortFloudly tba
first; and if the servants take a long time in &
swering the bell, I say to myself,' You arc bad?,
vants, either lazy,' or pampered, or spoilt bv i
much indulgence, and evidently taking tit life
interest in your master s wisnes. it is a sure sir
that there is not much peace or comfort to be v.
with in the house where the master :rlnrs severs
times for everything he wants; and where the k
vants require the bell to be rung twice before ti
think of answering it." Punch.
The Road in 1853. The days of the Hi?
waymen are over: but that need not belameta
by the twJurirers of tfae robbers of the goojif
times. The Highwaymen have been succeed
by the Rail way men. lb.
A Rap for the Czar. A great deal of w
gold coin is in circulation, but the worst Soverti;
that has come before the public lately is the. tj
peror or Russia. lb .
Too Modest by Half. xdost of the illi
tions in honour of the Emperor's fete at I'm A
played the glittering initials, N. E. This -t
ly telling half the truth. It wanted the ate
of R. O., for the French' nation clearly to m
stand in whose hoiiour the fete was given.-!-
Another Dietetic Rule of Coxdcct.-V
er to send, a servaiit out on an errand after Ji
but always a little before. it is extraordinary'
very quick, in the latter case, he (or she)
turn. lb.
A young Irish servant girl coming from
recently in one of the night steamers, had tb
to lose the 'recommendation ' which hadjWj
en her on leaving her last place.. She brof-j
however, the accompanying ' ticket,' whichsbef
sented to a friend of ours :
'This is to say, that Kathleen O'Brian hid!;
character when she left Albany, but she lo5
board the Steamer coming down.'
" Will you keep an- eye od my horse, bj !
while I step in and get a drink ?"
"Yes, sir." ' '
Stranger goes in, gets his drink, comes out
.finds his horse missing.
" Where is my horse, boy !"
" He's runn'd away, sir."
" Didn't I tell you to take care of him, jo"!0
" iso, sir, you told me to Keep mj cj
and I did, till he got clean out of sight.
WRITTEN FOa THB SOUTHERN VEEItl
ENIGMA-
BY A DEAF-MUTE.
T A Vf MrnnAc rA T IO lafar
Mv 1 9 roa fri.miW and leg15'
J , , v , V, MM bUC -
r o 1 n . ' t. r,f the Pe "'
was me inveuiui
Dumb alphabet
My 3, 8, 2, is a name of a plant
1 t is an aaiecuve. . t.(
J - e.. rain""
o, 3, 5, 9, is the classic name wr '
" 6, is a letter.
7, 2, 2, is an insect.
8, is letter.
;
9, 1. 8. 3. is' naed for erentlemen m
10, 2. 4. 6. 5. was one of the most
" - r W W
Italian poets. ,
11, 6, 6, 5,.8, 9, was an early Latin p"
u
12. 3, 4, is 4i verb. At
My whole- was a distinguished lawyer, t
iormeriy one 01 tne ioara wi auv-
and Dumb and the Blind.
I Answer to Enigma in last week pr"
eeal ZlcjaAWr. Tatter.