THE POOR SCHOLAR. (BY MRS. S. C. HALL, IN HER NEW WORK ON IRELAND.) It was towards the middle of September, or, as they in Ireland usually style the period, "latter end of harvest," several years ago, that we were sedulously gathering a nosegay of blue corn-flowers and scarlet poppies, in the field of a dear relative, whose labourers were busily employed in reaping. A group of Irish harvesters are generally noisy, full of jest, and song, and laughter; but we observed, that, although not more diligent than usual, these were unusually silent-yet the day was fine, the food abundant, and no "sickness" afflicted the neighbourhood. Our ramble was accompanied by a fine Newfoundland dog -Neptune, a fellow worthy of his name. After walking along at our accustomed pace (for he disdained idle gambols,) Nep came to a dead stand. There was a remarkable old tree in the hedge, so old that it was hollow almost to the top, where a few green boughs and leaves sprouted forth, as remembrancers of past days; the open part of the trunk was on the other side, so that a stranger, standing where we stood, could have no idea how much it was decayed; at this old tree Nep made a point, as if setting a bird; he would neither advance nor retreat, but stood with fixed eyes and erect ears, in a watchful position. It occurred to us, that the reapers had whiskey, or some smuggled goods, concealed there, and we resolved to fathom the mystery; in accordance with this resolution, we commenced, first, a descent into what is called the "gripe" of the ditch, and then, seizing upon the bough of a sturdy little hawthorn, were about ascending, when two rosy-cheeked harvest-girls interposed Ah, thin, don't, iv ye plase-(bad luck to you, Nep, for a tale-tellin' ould baste of a dog!-couldn't ye let the young lady have her walk ?)--don't, iv you plase, Miss, machree, go up there. Faix, it's the truth we're tellin' ye, 'tisn't safe," "What, Anty?" "Whisht! an' I'll tell, but you musn't let on,* for maybe I'd lose the work. It's-only a little boy we hid in the tree!' 66 tree, dry and comfortable, with the new straw, and then we stole granny's plaikeen* out of the bit of a box, and a blanket, and laid him a-top of it; and, when we settled him snug, we axed my uncle if we might do it, and he said he'd murder ust if we had any call to him; and we said we wouldn't becase we had done it already; but, in the end, my uncle himself was as willing to do a hand's turn to the poor scholar as if he was a soggarth, which he will be, plase God; only the sickness is heavy on him still, and the people so mortial afeard of it." In a little time, we discovered that the poor scholar, who rejoiced in the thoroughly Irish name of Patrick O'Brien, had been most tenderly cared for, not only by those kind-hearted girls, but by each of the harvesters; two young men, in particular, took it turn about to sit up with the lone child the greater part of the night, listening to the feeble ravings he uttered about his mother and his home, and moistening his lips with milk and water-the fatigue of the day's labour, under a scorching sun, with no more strengthening food than potatoes and milk, did not prevent their performing this deed of love and charity. When we discovered him, the fever-to use Anty's words-had turned on him for good, and he was perfectly rational, though feeble almost beyond belief, and only opening his lips to invoke blessings upon his preservers. We found that he had suffered from measles, rendered much worse than they generally are, by fatigue, want, and ill-usage. The poor lad's tale had nothing remarkable in it-it was but one among many. He was the only son of a widow, who, having wed too early, was reduced from comfort to the depths of privation; her young husband closed his sor rows in an early grave, and she devoted her energies to the task of providing for her two children; the girl was blind from her birth; and the boy, whose feelings and manners would have led to the belief, so prevalent in Ireland, of the invariable refinement of "dacent blood," resolved to seek, by the way-sides and hedges, the information he had no means of obtaining in statelier seminaries. Those who know how strongly the ties of kindred are intertwined round an Irish heart-only those can understand how more than hard it is for the parent to part with the child. Notwithstanding, Patrick was blessed, and sent forth by his mother -an Ishmael, without the protecting care of a Hagaramid the wilderness of the world. More than once, he returned to weep upon her bosom, and to repeat the assurance, that, when they met again, he would be a credit to his name. He had, as Anty said, suffered wrong from an ignorant schoolmaster, who plundered him of the small collection the priest of his parish had made for his benefit, and then ill-used him. A boy!" Ay, faix! he was a boy, the craythur; but he's an atomy now, wid whatever it is-maasles, or small-pox, or feaver, myself doesn't know—but it's bad enough. He's a poor scholar, the jewel! thravellin' to make a man of himself, which, if the Lord doesn't raise him out of the sickness, he'll never be; thravellin' the world, and ould Ireland, for larnin,' and was struck as he came here; and he thinking he'd have six months, or maybe a year, with Mr. Devereux, who has grate haythen as well as Chris- His illness we have told of; his recovery was hailed with tian knowledge; and sure no one would let him into their hearty joy by "the neighbours," who began to consider him place, for dread of the sickness that brought lamentation as a property of their own-a creature they had all some into all our houses last year; and I found him," continued interest in. He was duly received at the school, the masthe girl, bursting into tears, "I found him shiverin' under ter of which deserved the reputation he had achieved-for an elder bush, that's unlucky in itself, and pantin' the despite his oddity, and a strong brogue of the true Munster little breath in his body out; and I'd ha' thought there character, he was a good classic of the old régime, and a would ha' been little use in all I could do; only what most kind-hearted man. Although no Dominie ever entershould I see, whin I took my eyes off him, but a cow lick-tained a more exalted opinion of his own learning, or held ing herself the wrong way, and that gave me heart, and I spoke to him, and all he axed for was a drink of wather, and that I'd take him to his mother, the poor lamb! and she hundreds of miles away, at the back of God-speed, maybe; and sure that kilt me entirely, for I thought of my own mother, that the Lord took from me before I had sense to ax her blessin'. And ye'd think the life would lave the craythur every minute-so, first of all, myself and this little girl made a fine asy bed for him inside the ould ignoraamuses (as he pronounced the word) in greater contempt than Mr. Devereux, still, when he found a pupil to his mind, who would work hard and constantly, he treated him with such consideration, that the youth was seldom permitted to speak, except in the dead languages. In less than a year, Patrick had become his teacher's right hand; he was not only his "first Latin," but in a fair way to become his first Grecian; and the only thing that A square of flannel or shawl. + A figure of speech. Soggarth, young priest. tormented the worthy schoolmaster was, that Patrick was the last blessed sacrement from yer hands yet." And so he "no hand" at "mathematics." He wrote frequently to had; for this is no romance. The blind child was led by his mother, and sometimes heard from her; but at last her brother to the old schoolmaster's dwelling. Many of came the mournful intelligence, that he could see her no the neighbouring poor said, "God reward you, Misther more. She had perished of fever-one of those dreadful Devereux; ye're a fine man;" but the generous act exfevers that finish the work commenced by starvation, had cited no astonishment: generosity of character is so common taken her away from present care, and denied her all parti- amongst the peasantry, that it does not produce comment cipation in the honours she anticipated for her son. The they are in the constant habit of doing things, and news crushed the heart of the poor scholar; and with it making sacrifices, which, if done long ago, would have was mingled not only sorrow for the departed, but a deep been recorded as deeds of heroic virtue; but there are no anxiety on account of his little blind sister. "The neigh-village annals for village virtues; and, at the time, the bours," he said, "will, I know, keep her among them a schoolmaster's generosity made little impression on ourbit here, a sup there-and give her clothes enough for selves, simply because it was not rare, for near him lived a summer; but my dread is, that she'll turn to begging, and poor widow, who, in addition to her own three children, that would be cruel to think of-my poor little blind fostered one whom the wild waves threw up upon the Nelly!"* shore from a wreck; and another, who took three of her brother's orphans to her one-roomed house; and another, who nourished the infant of a beggar, who died in her husband's barn, at the breast with her own baby. "Tell me," inquired the Dominie, resting his elbows on his knees,-" tell me, did the news you got, poor fellow, determine you on doing any thing particular?" “It did, master; it did, God help me, and look down upon and bless you, and every one that has been kind and good to me!" "What have you determined; or have you brought your resolution to a point ?" "I have, Sir. It's hard parting-but the little girl, Sir-my poor blind sister-the lone darling, that never wanted sight while she had her mother's eyes-the tender child, Sir; the neighbours are all kind, all good; but they can't be expected to take, for a continuance, the bit out of their own mouths to put it into hers-that can't be expected-nor it shan't be. I mean to set out for home, on Monday, Sir, plase God, and be, to that poor blind child, mother, and father, and brother. She is all of my own blood in the world now, and I can't make her heart as dark as her eyes. Thanks be to the Almighty, I have health and strength now, which I had not when I left home-health, strength, and knowledge: though," he added, in a tone of intense sorrow," that knowledge will never lead me to what I once hoped it would." "What's to ail the little girl," said Mr. Devereux, at last, "to live, as many have done before her-in forma pauperis? Sure-that is, of a certainty, I mean-you found nothing painful in stopping a week at Mrs. Rooney's, and a month with the Driscols, and so on, and every one glad to have you." "God reward them! Yes, Sir, that's thrue; and, of late, I've given the children, wherever I was stopping, a lift of the learning; but poor Nelly has no right to burden any one, while my bones are strong enough to work for her-and she shall not!" "And how dare you to say that to my face, Patrick O'Brien ?" screamed the schoolmaster, flinging his wig right on the nose of a respectable pig, which was poking it over the half-door, intended to keep in the little children, and to keep out the pigs. "How dare you-in your pupilage-say she shall not?' I say she shall! She shall burthen me. I say you shall go for her, and bring her here, and my old woman will be to her as she is to her own grandchildren, not a hair in the differ. When you go to Maynooth, we'll take care of her; my grandchildren are grown too wise, and I'll be glad to have a blind child to tache poems and things that way to, of the long winter evenings, when I'm lonely for want of the lessons; so now no more about it. She'll be all as one as the babby of my old age, and you'll be Father Pat, and maybe I'd have A poor scholar never considers himself a beggar, nor is he ever so considered-he travels for learning; and this bare fact entitles him to respect and assistance-it is regarded in the light of a pilgrimage, but not beggary. The old schoolmaster is dead; but, before he died, he had, as we have said, the desire of his heart. A blind sister lives with "the Soggarth" to this day, and he is respected, as all deserve to be who build their own fortunes bravely and boldly, and, having laid a good foundation, are not ashamed of the labour that wins the highest distinction a free-born man can achieve. SENDING FOR THE DOCTOR. FIRST, when you wish a call from your medical attendant, always send a written note, and never a verbal message. A written note presents itself to the eye, and tells its own tale, without depending on the memory of the messenger. A message, on the other hand, progresses through at least two, often illiterate, brains, before reaching the doctor, viz. those of the person who carries, and of the person who receives it; and when not altogether forgotten by the latter, it is frequently so jumbled and confused with other messages received at the same time, as to be altogether unintelligible. This Secondly, give the address, as well as the name. saves many mistakes. We know a medical man who lately attended three patients of the same name at the same time, and more than once went in great haste to the wrong house, in consequence of the name only being mentioned. Similar mistakes are not of uncommon occurrence, and are sources of much discomfort to the patient. Thirdly, when practicable, send early in the morning. The medical man starts betimes on his rounds; and if he receives notice before going out, where his services are wanted, he can generally make the required visit when seeing his other patients in the same quarter, and so economise his time and leave more leisure for minute inquiry. If, on the other hand, the notice is not delivered till after he has left home, his labour is doubled and his time consumed by going twice over the same ground. This rule is of immense importance in the country, where the distance is very great. Fourthly, it is a good rule, especially when sending in haste, to state the supposed seat and nature of the ailment for which advice is required. This enables the practitioner, as he goes along, to reflect on the constitutional peculiarities of the patient, and the probable influence of prevailing epidemics and the precautions which a knowledge of these may suggest in directing the treatment. The rule is of much importance in sending for assistance in the night time; because, from having some previous notion of the case, the practitioner may carry remedies with him, and give relief on the spot. And in all cases, it in some degree prepares the mind of the adviser for the investigation of the phenomenon. Fifthly, When any one is taken ill in the day time and likely to need assistance, send for it while it is yet day; and never wait, as too often happens, till midnight darkness frightens you into alarm. In every sense the last is bad policy. By sending early, you obviate mischief, secure tranquillity, and disturb no one; and there is no medical man who would not rather make a needless visit now and then, early in the evening, than be even once disturbed in the night-time, when perhaps he is already exhausted with the labours of the day. Sixthly, when your medical attendant calls, proceed at once to business, and do not seek to occupy his time with the state of the weather, or the news of the day, before telling him what you complain of. A doctor's time is like a stock in trade, and you may with as much propriety make free with a yard of broadcloth in a merchant's shop, as with an hour of his time. Finish your consultation first, and then, if he has time to bestow in a friendly chat, you and he can settle the affairs of the nation, or the state of the crops, with comfort, because you then leave him at liberty to depart the moment his leisure is expired, which he could not do if you were to take the generalities first, and your case last. Every right-minded medical man will, even as a matter of professional duty, bestow some time in this way, when not much pressed: for without doing so, he cannot acquire that competent knowledge of his patient's condition, or exercise that wholesome moral influence over his mind, which are equally essential to obtaining confidence and successful results. Many people complain of the hurried and unsatisfactory visits of their professional advisers, when they have chiefly themselves to blame for insisting on long disquisitions, which have nothing to do with the purpose for which they were consulted. Seventhly, when the doctor arrives, conduct him to his patient, or send away the friends who may be in the room, except the nurse or parent, if the patient be a young person; and follow this rule, however trivial the ailment. Professional inquiries, to be satisfactory, must often involve questions, which delicacy shrinks from answering in the presence of unnecessary witnesses; and even for a sore finger or broken shin, it may be required to enter upon such topics in order to prescribe successfully. Patients shrink from communicating their feelings and sensations in the presence of third parties, who may misunderstand and misrepresent them. Eighthly, never attempt to deceive your medical adviser; for, besides thereby being guilty of an immorality, the deceit is carried on at your own risk, and may lead to the injury of others. If you conceal circumstances concerning your disease, which ought to be known, and your attendant is thus misled to prescribe on erroneous information, your life may be endangered, as well as his reputation, which is unjustifiably made to suffer by your disingenuousness. If your confidence in him is not such as to make you rely on his honour, good sense, and skill, change him for another, but do not practise deceit. Or if he prescribe medicines which you do not choose to take, do not lead him to believe that you have swallowed them, and that the present symptoms or change have been the effects of such medicines. By doing so, you cause him not only to prescribe erroneously in your own case, but also in that of others which he may consider analogous to yours; and if, by the persuasion of friends or otherwise, you have either broken through the regimen prescribed, or in any other way consciously departed from what you know to have been the intention of your adviser, do not add to the evil by farther deceit, but endeavour, at once, to obviate the consequence by a candid statement. And, lastly, do not, unknown to your regular attendant, call in another medical attendant to ascertain what his views are. If you wish for their advice, have recourse to it openly and honourably, in the form of consultation, allowing your first adviser to communicate his views and observations both as regards the past, the present, and the future. This is required to enable the new comer to appreciate the situation of the patient, and decide as to treatment; and it is not only unworthy of an honest mind to attempt to obtain a surreptitious opinion, but the mingling of two methods of treatment, which almost always results from such a proceeding, does justice to neither, and is almost sure to hurt the patient, who alone deserves to suffer. The above are a few general rules for every-day use. There may be exceptions to some of them, but to specify such exceptions would occupy much room, and be a waste of time. AMERICAN VARIETIES.-No. VI. DEBTOR AND CREDITOR: A DIALOGUE.- Look here, Sambo, you got dat quarter dollar you owes me? SamboLa! Cuff, no. Money so scarce, so many stopperages in Mobile; there aint no money in circulation. Cuff-O sho Sambo, what de nashun you got to do wid Mobile? Nigger pay up, pay up, Sambo. Well, look here, Cuff-me hear massa tell more dan twenty men same tale; and I haint see no gentleman treat him like you me. Act like a gentleman if you is a nigger.-Mobile Chronicle. QUALIFICATIONS OF A CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS.-The following will strongly remind the English reader of the elec tion feats of the humorous Colonel Crocket:-A man resident somewhere in this state, and who sometime ago announced himself as a candidate for the legislature, in his address to the public, sums up his qualifications as follows: "I believe I was the first civilized white man who skinned a coon, chased a deer, caught a bear, or treed a wild cat, on the West side of White River." His views on the currency are not novel, but he seems to go against hickory leaves, (not to mention cotton rags): "Fellow citizens, I am aware you are now satisfied that the salvation of us hoosiers depends on having an honest man to represent us; therefore, I pledge myself, if elected, to regulate and render entirely quiescent the legal and natural currency of the country, to wit, coon skins."-Indiana Disseminator. A HINT TO THE SLOVENLY: TO PERFUME LINEN.-Rose leaves dried in the shade, cloves beat to a powder, and mace scraped; mix them together, and put them into little bags.New York Times. We know of a better way: boil the linen in soft water, rub it well in a tub of hot water, apply a liberal quantity of soap, rinse it, dry it, starch it, and press it with a hot iron. If this process is gone through faithfully, the linen will have the sweetness of the best of all perfumes, viz. cleanliness. A warm bath and scrubbing brush are excellent perfumes for the body. If gentlemen and ladies would use them more, and lavender, musk, and cologne, &c. less, they would smell sweeter than they now do, many of them. This is rather plain talking, but it is the truth.-Boston Morning Post. HARD TIMES FOR THE FAIR.-The times are so bad, and payments so rare, that the girls down East, complain that the young men cannot even pay their addresses.-New York Times. ECONOMY OF FUEL.-A neighbour of ours informs us that wood goes further when left out of doors, than when well housed; some of his having gone upwards of a quarter of a mile in one night; but he had to guess at the mode of transition.-Yeoman's Gazette. DOCTORS TURNED PATIENTS.-The Buffalo Journal, U. S. says, that city is so healthy, that the doctors have nothing to do-and seven of them were seen together on the pier fishing!!! DINING AT SEA IN ROUGH WEATHER. THE ship's company often reap much amusement from the little accidents, the ridiculous tumbles, and the strange postures which the passengers are thrown into by the unsteady motion of the vessel; indeed, we now feel so little alarm during a gale, that we sometimes disregard its perils, and join in their smiles and jokes, at the ludicrous occurrences which happen among ourselves. Hogarth might have feasted upon them. In the confusion of motion, caused by the heavy seas, if we attempt to walk, we fetch away, and are tossed to the farthest side of the cabin, in all the odd and uncommon figures that can be imagined; and often, before we can regain our legs, the ship yields to another wave, and we are tumbled in the most ludicrous manner to the opposite side, kicking, struggling, or crawling, amidst a confusion of moving chairs, stools, boxes, and other furniture. Our dinner ceremony is often rendered a humorous scene: at this hour the cabin being the general | rendezvous of the party, we must crawl trembling towards the table, and tie ourselves in the chairs. A tray is set before us, with deep holes cut in it for the dishes, plates, and glasses; the table and chairs are lashed to the deck; yet one or other frequently gives way, and upsets half the things in the cabin! Presently enters the steward with soup, followed by his little slave with potatoes, and the servant with such other covers as there may chance to be. But scarcely are the things upon the table, and the servants stationed clinging to the backs of our chairs, before a sudden lurch of the ship tumbles all into disorder. Away go stewards, servants, and little Mungo, to the lee corner of the cabin; the soup salutes the lap of one of us; another receives a leg of pork; a third is presented with a piece of mutton or beef; a couple of chickens or ducks fly to another; the pudding jumps nearly into the mouth of the next; and the potatoes are tossed in all directions about the deck of the cabin. One saves his plate; another stops his knife and fork; some cling to the table, thinking of only saving their person; one secures the bottle; another, half fallen, holds up his glass in one hand, and fixes himself fast to the chair with the other. Chaos is renewed! every thing is in motion; every thing is in disorder and confusion. At the next roll of the ship, the servants, staring with amazement, again fetch away, and, with extended arms, are tossed to the opposite side of the cabin, where they cling fast and remain fixed as statues, afraid again to move; and although we are lashed in the chair ourselves, it is with some difficulty we can maintain our seats. Plates, dishes, knives, forks, and glasses clatter together in all the discord of the moment; the steward and his boy, crawling upon their hands and knees after the dancing potatoes, the flying fowls, or walking joints, are rolled over our feet; and all is disorder and confusion. The ship now becomes steady for a moment; the scattered parts of the dinner are collected, and those who have escaped sickness again attempt to eat. Some foreseeing all these accidents fix themselves in a corner upon the cabin deck, and take the plate between their knees, fancying themselves in security; but quickly they are tumbled in ridiculous postures, to the other side of the cabin, sprawling with outstretched limbs, like frightened crabs. Some having no calls of appetite, join not in the feast, but lie swinging up and down in their cots or hammocks; others remain rolling from side to side in their births; some cry out with sore bruises; some from being wetted with the spray; one calls for help; another relieves his stomach from sickness: while others lamenting only their dinner, loudly bewail the soup, the meat, and the pudding; some abuse the helmsman, others the ship, and others the sea; while all join in a chorus of imprecations upon the wind.-Pinckard's Notes. THE DIGNITY OF LABOUR. I HAVE faith in labour, and I see the goodness of God in placing us in a world where labour alone can keep us alive. I would not change, if I could, our subjection to physical laws, our exposure to hunger and cold, and the necessity of constant conflicts with the material world. I would not, if I could, so temper the elements that they should infuse into us only grateful sensations; that they should make vegetation so exuberant as to anticipate every want, and the minerals so ductile as to offer no resistance to our strength or skill. Such a world would make a contemptible race. Man owes his growth, his energy, chiefly to that striving of the will, that conflict with difficulty, which we call effort. Easy pleasant work does not make robust minds; does not give men such a consciousness of their powers; does not train to endurance, to perseverance, to steady force of will-that force without which all other acquisitions avail nothing. Manual labour is a school, in which men are placed to get energy of purpose and character; a vastly more important endowment than all the learning of all other schools. They are placed, indeed, under hard masters, physical sufferings and wants, the power of fearful elements, and the vicissitudes of all human things; but these stern teachers do a work which no compassionate indulgent friend could do for us; and true wisdom will bless Providence for their sharp ministry. I have great faith in hard work. The material world does much for the mind by its beauty and order; but it does more for our minds by the pains it inflicts-by its obstinate resistance, which nothing but patient toil can overcome-by its vast forces, which nothing but unremitting skill and effort can turn to our use-by its perils, which demand continual vigilance-and by its tendencies to decay. I believe that difficulties are more important to the human mind than what we call assistances. Work we all must, if we mean to bring out and perfect our nature. Even if we do not work with the hands, we must undergo equivalent toil in some other direction. No business or study which does not present obstacles, tasking to the full the intellect and the will, is worthy of a man. In science, he who does not grapple with hard questions—who does not concentrate his whole intellect in vigorous attentionwho does not aim to penetrate what at first repels him, will never attain to mental force. The uses of toil reach beyond the present world. The capacity of steady, earnest labour is, I apprehend, one of our great preparations for another state of being. When I see the vast amount of toil required of men, I feel that it must have important connexions with their future existence; and that he who has met this discipline manfully, has laid one essential foundation of improvement, exertion, and happiness in the world to come. You will here see, that to me labour has great dignity. It is not merely the grand instrument by which the earth is overspread with fruitfulness and beauty, and the ocean subdued, and matter wrought into innumerable forms for comfort and ornament; it has a far higher function, which is, to give force to the will, efficiency, courage, the capacity of endurance, and of persevering devotion to far-reaching plans. Alas for the man who has not learned to work! He is a poor creature. He does not know himself. He depends on others, with no capacity of making returns for the support they give; and let him not fancy that he has a monopoly of enjoyment. Ease, rest, owes its deliciousness to toil; and no toil is so burdensome as the rest of him who has nothing to task and quicken his powers.-Channing's "Lectures on the Elevation of the Working Classes." POETRY. THE HEIRESS'S COMPLAINT. WHY tell me with officious zeal, That I am young, and rich, and fair, Who breathe their incense at my shrine? Know that I scorn the sordid train Whose loveless vows are bought and sold; Know that the heart I sigh to gain, Despises, spurns my worthless gold. I love-I dare not breathe his name- Content to leave the crowd behind. And then he stands retired, apart, He holds that beauty as a toy. Yet must I still reluctant wear These flashing gems, these robes of state, And nightly must submit to share The paltry vanities I hate. Oh! never shall the world deride My passion with unfeeling jest, So sad so sorrowful as mine! VARIETIES. A PHYSICIAN'S OPINION OF PHYSIC.-A foreign medical writer, apparently with no view of flattering the skill or vanity of his profession, has asserted that "physic is the art of amusing the patient, while nature cures the disease.”—If this be true, it must at least be confessed, that the amusement is generally not very gratifying. LORD BACON'S NOTIONS RESPECTING THE MOON.-Bacon partook of the notions of the ancients: he tells us that the moon draws forth heat, induces putrefaction, increases moisture, and excites the motion of the spirits; and what was singular, this great philosopher invariably fell into a syncope during a lunar eclipse. PREJUDICE AGAINST HOPS.-Such was the prejudice, not to say ignorance, of parliament, in the year 1428, that it petitioned against hops on the ground of their being a wicked weed. They were first used in England in malt liquors in 1525; after which their medicinal virtues were discovered. CHINESE OPINION OF POETS.-The Chinese have a notion that the soul of a poet passes into a grasshopper, because it sings till it starves. A head properly constituted can accommodate itself upon whatever pillow the vicissitudes of fortune may place under it. The poorest of all family goods are indolent females. If a wife knows nothing of domestic duties beyond the parlour or the boudoir, she is a dangerous partner in these times of pecuniary uncertainty. MASONIC CEREMONY.-In Greece, when the foundationstone of a building is about to be laid, the blood of a cock is sprinkled on the ground where it is to rest, and prayers offered up for the prosperity of the undertaking. When the undertaking is extensive, an ox is substituted for the cock. NO HEATHS OR ROSES IN AMERICA.-It is tolerably well ascertained that the two Americas do not produce a single heath, nor the southern part of that continent a rose! PLANTING TREES.-He who plants trees on his paternal estate, repays a debt to his posterity which he owes to his ancestors. A gentleman, whose lands were more extensive than fertile, used to plant 1000 trees on the birth of every daughter, upon his waste grounds, which were on an average worth one pound each on coming of age; thus enabling him to give her a fortune of £1000, without any extraordinary economy on his part. WHALE DIVING.—A whale, when struck with the harpoon, will dive sometimes to a depth of 800 fathoms; and as the surface of a large animal may be estimated at 1,500 square feet, at this great depth it will have to sustain a pressure equal to 211,000 tons. The transition from that which it is exposed to at the surface, and which may be taken at about 1,300 tons, to so enormous an increase, must be productive of the utmost exhaustion. EFFECTS OF CLIMATE AND CULTIVATION ON VEGETABLES.-The myrtle tree, which with us is a small shrub, grows in Van Diemen's Land to the height of two hundred feet, and has a trunk from thirty to forty feet in circumference. The wood resembles cedar. The Japanese have an art by which they are able to produce miniature pines, bearing a perfect resemblance to the gigantic specimens of America, and only five or six inches high! TO CORRESPONDENTS. OUR Newcastle Correspondent is respectfully informed that the article on the well-known nursery lines, beginning with "Jack and Gill went up the hill," from the pen of one of the editors of this Journal, was written at least twelve months before the American paper on the same subject to which he refers appeared; and if he will look into the Monthly Magazine, towards the close of 1834, or beginning of 1835, he will see it published there; being, if we remember rightly, six or seven months before a similar article appeared in a contemporary, as from an American publication. If therefore there be any plagiarism in the matter, the transatlantic writer is the guilty party. In consequence of the extent of our correspondence, and the circumstance of our going to press a considerable period before the day of publication, communications cannot, at the earliest, appear until three or four weeks after they have been received. Volume I. of the New and Pictorial Series of the LONDON SATURDAY JOURNAL, handsomely bound in cloth, price 6s. 6d., and containing about One Hundred Engravings of superior merit, is now ready, and may be ordered of any Bookseller. LONDON: W. BRITTAIN, PATERNOSTER ROW. Edinburgh: JOHN MENZIES. Dublin: CURRY & Co. Glasgow: D. BRYCE. Printed by J. Rider, 14, Bartholomew Close. |