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extremely thick, to hang it in an airy place, in are precious for the nourishment they afford to order to accelerate the drying. all domestic animals. These seeds agree perfectly with sheep, and hogs; but above all they are of the greatest use for feeding all sorts of poultry. No other food makes them thrive so well, nor more excites them to lay their eggs.

During the time of flowering, bees come from afar to gather the elements of honey on the flowers.

The seeds of the sun-flower are more farinaceous than unctuous; and to this proper attention has not been given by those who have attempted to draw oil from them. Some oil may notwithstanding be extracted, but in so small a quantity, as not to be worth while cultivating these plants for the sake of this oil.

But if the seeds of the sun-flower are not susceptible of furnishing oil to advantage, they

The dry stalks of the sun-flower burn well, and furnish very good ashes for lye, as they contain much potash. To conclude, the facility of its culture, the abundance of the crops, and their various and interesting results, make of the sunflower a new source of riches in agricultural pursuits.

HYDROSTATICS.

DEFINITIONS.

HYDROSTATICS is that branch of natural philosophy which treats of the nature, gravity, pressure, and motions of fluids in general, and of the methods of weighing solids in them.

Hydraulics relates to the motion of water through pipes, conduits, &c.

tween the former are much greater than between the latter; which proves that a substance composed of globular particles must have larger pores than one whose particles are not round. Hence, since water can receive a solid into its pores without having its parts extended, it must necessarily be composed of those particles which leave the

A cubic foot, or inch, is a solid body whose greatest space between their points of contact. length, breadth, and depth, are equal.

Vortex is the top of any line or figure; in astronomy it is that point which is immediately over our heads.

The specific gravity of a body is its weight compared with another body of the same magnitude. For example:-if a cubical inch of one substance weigh twice as much as a cubical inch of another substance, the specific gravity of the former is twice as great as that of the latter. It is the density of a body that constitutes its specific gravity.

OF THE WEIGHT AND PRESSURE OF FLUIDS.

The particles of which fluids, in general, are composed, are conceived to be exceedingly small, smooth, hard, and spherical. Their sphericity is rendered apparent by the following facts:first, the facility with which they may be moved among, and over one another; secondly, from salt and sugar having been dissolved in water, without increasing its bulk, which could not happen if the space, or vacuities between the particles of water, were less than what globular particles alone leave; and thirdly, from the pores of aquatic plants, or those which live in water, being round.

By putting into a wine glass some shot in its natural form, and some which has been a little flattened, we shall find that the vacancies be

Water is the most subtle and penetrating of fluids, fire excepted; it pervades the minutest particles and pores of matter, the finest vessels of animals, and the smallest tubes of plants; pèrhaps there exists not a substance of which water forms not one of the constituent parts; air contains such a quantity of this fluid, that were the whole to be precipitated, the earth, it is supposed, would be covered with water to the depth of, at least, thirty-feet. Several curious instances have occurred of the weight of the human body being encreased by the absorption of water by its pores. A lad at Newmarket, who had been dieted for a riding match, was weighed one morning at nine o'clock, and again at ten, when it was found that he had gained nearly thirty ounces in weight, in the course of the hour, though he had drank during this interval but half a glass of wine.

In order to ascertain whether water be or be not compressible, a globe of gold was made at Florence, and after being completely filled with that fluid, was carefully closed up, that none of the contents might escape; afterwards the globe was fistened at the sides, when the water, incapable of being compressed into a smaller compass, forced its way through the pores of the gold, which no other fluid but fire can penetrate, and formed a dew all over the surface of the globe.

It is a principle in hydrostatics, that fluids of

every kind press equally in all directions; that is, they exert a pressure upwards and sideways, which equals their pressure downwards.

If water, or any other fluid, were poured into the annexed tube at A, it would rise in the opposite side, by the force of the upward pressure, till it became level on both sides of the tube. If, instead of a fluid, sand or shot were poured into either arm, neither of them would rise but in that arm; which renders it obvious that fluids actually exert a pressure upwards.

Dip one end of a tube of very narrow bore (not more than the tenth of an inch) into a vessel of quicksilver, then stopping the upper orifice with your finger, draw the tube out of the vessel, when you will see a column of quicksilver hanging to it; immerse it in water, still keeping your foger on the upper opening of the tube, and when you have sunk the column of mercury somewhat more than fourteen times its own depth, on removing your finger the water below the mercury will press it upwards into the tube. Mercury being fourteen times heavier than water, or in technical language, having fourteen times more specific gravity, the upward pressure of the water cannot overcome the downward pressure of the mercury, till this last has descended to a depth proportional to the different weights of the two fluids.

The lateral, or side pressure of fluids, may be demonstrated by a very easy experiment. A, is a vessel filled with water, in which are two orifices of equal diameter, one in the bottom of the vessel, the other in the bottom of the side; if, prior to drawing out the corks which close the holes, a glass be placed under each, then, if the corks are withdrawn at the same instant, it will be found that the glasses in equal time re

ceive an equal quantity of fluid; which could not happen if the pressure that forced it out of the side hole was not equally as great as that which impelled it through the orifice in the bottem.

But the particles of a fluid press equally, in every possible direction, so long only as the perpendicular height is equal; hence, if the side orifice, in the preceding experiment, had been

No. XVII. Vol. II.

half an inch or an inch higher, the pressure against it would have been less than that against the lower orifice, and consequently the quantity of the issuing fluid would have been less in the same proportion.

The weight and the pressure of fluids, are two things which must on no account be confounded. The weight is according to the quantity; the pressure is according to the perpendicular height. If a pound of water be put into a shallow vessel, the weight and the pressure will be exactly the same on the bottom of the vessel; but if the same quantity of water be put into a tube, of which the bottom of the vessel is made the base, the pressure of the water against it, whatever may be the difference between the diameter of the tube and that of the vessel, will be equal to the weight of a column of water of the same length as that in the tube, and of the same circumference as the circumference of the inside of the vessel.

To illustrate the assertion:-CD represent a vessel of water, to which a brass bottom, made water tight, is fixed by a hinge which allows it to open downwards, like the

lid of an inverted box; by means a little hook b, a pully c, and a weight W, the bottom is kept close to the vessel, and will not give way till it ex

periences a pressure within equal to the weight that draws it

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close to the vessel. This weight, represented by W, is equal to that of a column of water of the dimensions traced by the dotted lines d, g, e, f. P represents a tube open at both ends; if water be poured into it until it rise to the point m, its pressure will bear down the bottom, raise the weight, and a small quantity of water will escape; when the pressure within, and the weight drawing without, being again in equipoise, the bottom will be held tight to the vessel as at first; if the weight were changed to one equal to the weight of a column of water of the dimensions K, N, e, f, the bottom of the vessel would not give way till the tube was filled to the top.

M m

POETRY,

ORIGINAL AND SELECT.

THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE, A Tale, by Mr. Kenney, recited by Mr. Bannister at his Benefit, April, 1807.

A PUPIL of the Esculapian school,
Was just about to quit his master's rule;
Not that he knew his trade, as it appears,
But that he then had learnt it seven years.
Bob was a beau; and to his fame be spoken-
Wens, tumours, members mortified or broken,
He held it vastly filthy to be slashing;
Whilst clean white hose he sported every day,
Doubtless not chusing gentlefolks should say-
More for his mangling than his washing.
Yet, not on his acquirements here to stop,
Bobby was amply taught-to mind the shop;
And found it oft, by grievous lack of pelf,
A shop that no one minded but himself.
But Bob's papa indulging the conceit,
That yet his science was not quite complete,
The youth one morning thus address'd his

master:

Dear Sir, my honoured father hids me say, If I could now and then a visit pay,

He thinks, with you,

To notice how you do,

My business I might learn a little faster. The thought is happy, the preceptor cries,A better method he could scarce devise: If so he fancies, Bob, it shall be so; And when I next pay visits you shall go. To bring that hour, alas! time briskly fled: With dire intent

Away they went;

And now behold them at the patient's bed.
The master Doctor solemnly perused
His victim's face, and o'er his symptoms mus'd;
Look'd wise, said nothing-an unerring way
When people nothing have to say.

Then felt his pulse, and smelt his cane,
And paused, and blink'd, and smelt again,

And briefly of his corps perform'd each motion Manœuvres that for Death's platoon are meant; A sort of a make ready and present

Before the fell discharge of pill and potion. At length the patient's wife he thus address'd: Madam, your husband's danger's great, And, what will never his complaint abate, The man's been eating oysters, I perceive.Lord! you're a witch, I verily believe,

Madam reply'd, and to the truth confess'd.

Skill so prodigious Bobby too admired,
And home returning, of the sage enquired

How these same oysters came into his head? Pshaw! my dear Bob, the thing was plain, Sure that can ne'er distress thy brain,

I saw the shells lie underneath the bed.
So wise by this sage lesson grown,
Next morn Bob ventured forth alone,

And to the self same patient paid his court; But soon, with haste and wonder out of breath, Returned the stripling minister of death,

And to his master made this dread report.
Why, Sir, we ne'er shall keep that patient under;
Zounds! such a maw I never came across;
The fellow must be dying, and no wonder,
For damme if he hasn't eat a horse!
A horse! the elder man of physic cried,
As if he meant his pupil to deride;

How came so wild a notion in your head?
How! think not in my duty I was idle;
Like you I took a peep beneath the bed,
And there I saw a saddle and a bridle.

TO HER WHO PAINTED

"THE NOVICE OF ST. DOMINIQUE."

WHEN Love's jewell'd star on the rose-blossom beams,

With silver suffusing its dye,

The Venus of flow'rs, in its brilliancy gleams,
Like a blush, seraph-shed, from the sky.

SO STONEY! the tintings of Poetry's plume,
Fair Imogen's image which grace,

From thy fancy's bright halo, such lustre assume,
In the phantom an angel I trace!

Blest limner! the Muse whose wild warblings I note,

From her jessamine chaunts thee a layInspir'd by the carmine-bath'd kisses which float O'er Imogen's panting portrait!

So the plume-perfum'd fly-bird of India's parterre,
Round the tulip's silk couch lightly wings,
And, wrapt by the charms bloom-veil'd of the fair,
Soft humming-a serenade sings.
Adieu! child of Genius! may Sympathy's power,

O'er life's vision who holds such sweet swayWith the dreams of young Kapture encrimson the bower,

When in Hymen's chaste Eden you stray!

LINES.

Written upon a calm Sunday morning, on the Island in Grasmere Lake, in Westmoreland.

YE scenes, that around me disclose
Abodes of contentment and health,
O give to my heart that repose,

It has sought 'midst the tumults of wealth.

As I gaze on the hills that surround
And shelter from tempests the vale,
I listen with joy to the sound
That rides on the spring-breathing gale.
'Tis the sound of the bell that invites
The neighbouring shepherds to pray'r,
To thank with devotional rites
The shepherd of all for his care.
For 'tis He who their flocks will preserve
On the hills from the bleak snow and rain,
And does not his kindness deserve
The tribute of gratitude's strain?
Sweet Lake, in whose crystalline breast
This Island reposes her form,
May thou be thus ever at rest,
Nor move to the turbulent storm:

And wilt thou afford me, green Isle,
An abode of contentment and health,
A refuge from sorrow and toil

I have sought 'midst the tumult of wealth?

HELVELLYN *.

DARK-GREEN was the spot 'mid the brown mountain heather,

Where the pilgrim of nature lay stretched in decay;

Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather,

Till the mountain-winds wasted the tenantless clay.

Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended, For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended: The much-loved remains of her master defended, And chased the hill-fox and raven away.

How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber?

When the wind wav'd his garment, how oft didst thou start?

How many long days and long weeks didst thou number,

Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart?

And Oh! was it meet, that no requiem read over him,

No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him,

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And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him,

Unhonour'd the pilgrim from life should depart?

F. D. A.

SONG.

WHAT IS LOVE?

LIKE as the virgin blush of morn,
Or as the dew drop on the thorn,
Or as the primrose on the plain,
Or as the thoughts of former pleasure,
Ev'n such is Love's uncertain treasure.
The virgin blush of morn is o'er,
The dew consumes the thorns no more.
The music's ceased, the primrose dies,
The pleasure's past-and so Love flies.
Like as the gaudy painted dream,
Or as the sunshine's golden beam,
Or as the tolling of a bell,
Or as the pansy's fragrant smell,
Or as the torch's glaring blaze,

Ev'n such is Love, whose charm decays.
The dream is past, the sunshine's fled,
The bell is stopp'd the pansy's dead,
The smell is lost, the torch's blaze

AND would'st thou with insidious art
My darling friend destroy,
And rob her unsuspecting heart
Of all its little joy.

A hapless orphan maid is she,

Just caught in love's sweet thrall, And fondly thinks she views in thee

Her father, mother, all.

No, Henry, scorn the coward aim,

'Tis fraught with dire disgrace; Ah, who could seek to brand with shame My Mary's lovely face.

A holier flame should fire thy breast,
And purer wishes move,
When she prefers thee to the rest
-Who best deserves thy love.

MALTON.

Is out and so Love's flame decays.

L.

*This species of stanza was first used by Smyth, in his beautiful and affecting Poem on Life, written in 1612.

It alludes to the death of an unfortunate gentleman, who perished by losing his way on Helvellyn, about two years ago. His remains were found three months afterwards, guarded still by a terrier bitch, that had long been the companion of his rambles.

A SONNET.-MORNING.

OFT in her ruddy car I've seen,
Aurora gild th'enamell'd green,

And speed her azure way;

While from her soft mellifluous throat
The linnet pours her plaintive note,

And cheers the infant day:

But soon the blackning veil is drawn,
And heav'n's artillery frights the morn,
Astonish'd flies the swain;

The pealing thunder rattles loud,
Blue lightnings flash from ev'ry cloud,
And torrents sweep the plain.
Thus often smiles life's early dawn,
While, wing'd on peace, rolls smoothly on
Th' uninterrupted year;

Till soon thick-gath'ring clouds of woe
Burst in a dismal din below,

And stop the glad career.

"Blest with Freedom unconfin'd;

Dungeons cannot hold the soul:
What can chain th' immortal mind!

None but He who spans the pole."
Fancy, too, the nimble fairy,
With her subtle magic spell,
In romantic visions airy

Steals the captive from his cell.
On her moonlight pinions borne,
Far he flies from grief and pain;
Never, never to be torm

From his friends and home again!

Stay, thou dear delusion! stay!
Beauteous bubble! do not break!
Ah! the pageant fli's away!

Who from such a dream would wake!

MOONLIGHT-THE CAPTIVE.

BY MR. MONTGOMERY,

GENTLE Moon! a capive calls;
Gentle Moon! awake, arise!

Gild the prison's sullen walls;

Gild the tears that drown his eyes.

Throw thy veil of clouds aside;

Let those smiles, that light the pole, Thro' the liquid ather glide

Glide into the mourner's soul. Cheer his melancholy mind; Soothe his sorrows, heal his smart : Let thine influence, pure, refin'd,

Cool the fever of his heart. *Chance, Despondency, and Care,

Fiends, that haunt the guilty breast: Conscious virtue braves despair; Triumphs most when most oppress'd. Now I feel thy power benign

Swell my bosom, thrill my veins; As thy beams the brightest shine, When the deepest midnight reigns. Say, fair shepherdess of night,

Who thy starry flock doth lead, Unto rills of living light,

On the blue etherial mead;
At this moment dost thou see,

From thine elevated sphere,
One kind friend who thinks of me-
Thinks, and drops a feeling tear?

On a brilliant beam convey

This soft whisper to his breast: "Wipe that generous drop away, He for whom it falls is-blest!

TO THE PRIMROSE.

By murmuring Nith, my native stream,
I've hail'd thee with the morning's beam;
Woo'd thee among the Falls of Clyde,
On Levin's bank, on Kelvin side;
And now, on Hnwell's flow'ry plain,
I welcome thy return again-
At Hanwell!

where romantic views,

And sylvan scenes, invite the Muse;
And where, lest erring man should stray,
Truth's blameless Teacher leads the way!
Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade,
Emblem of Virtue in the shade,
Rearing thy head to brave the storm
That would thine innocence deform!
Of all the flow'rs that greet the Spring,
Of all the flow'rs the Seasons bring,
To me, while doom'd to linger here,
The lowly Primrose shall be dear!
Sprung like a Primrose in the wild,
Short, like the Primrose, Marion smil'd;
The Spring that gave her blossoms birth,
Tore them for ever from the earth;
Nor left, ah me! one bud behind,
To tranquillize a Parent's mind,

Save that sweet bud which strews the way,
Blest Hope to an eternal May!
Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade,
Emblem of Virtue in the shade,
Rearing thy head to brave the storm
That would thine innocence deform!
Of all the flow'rs that greet the Spring,
Of all the flow'rs the Seasons bring,
To me, while doom'd to linger here,
The lowly Primrose shall be dear!

J.M.

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