THE FIRST GREY HAIR. The matron at her mirror, with her hand upon her brow, grey hair! Now she beholds her first grey hair!—oh ! deem it not a crime IMMENSE SALT MINE. The largest salt mine is at Wilisca, in Cracow, in Poland. It has ten openings, through which the miners descend to the depth of six hundred feet, and as soon as the first touches the ground, he slips out of the rope, and all the same in succession. The body of the mine is a spacious plain, containing a subterranean republic with horses, carriages, and roads, exhibiting all the bustle of business. In various parts of this spacious plain stand the huts of the miners and their families, some single, and others in clusters like villages. The inhabitants have very little communication with the world above the ground, and many hundreds are born and end their lives here. Through this plain runs the great road to the mouth of the mine, filled with carriages of salt, conducted by drivers, all merry and singing. The horses kept here are numerous, and when once let down, never again see the light of the day. The miners dig out the salt in the form of huge cylinders, 'Twere well would all learn wisdom who behold the first grey each of many hundred weight, which are drawn up to the surface, and sent to the mills, where they are ground to powder. A stream of fresh water runs through the mine, so that the inhabitants have no occasion for a supply from above. HUMAN HAIR TRAFFIC.-In Brittany, a province of France, this traffic is carried on, and all the fairs are regularly attended by purchasers, both male and female. The Breton peasants have particular fine hair, and generally in great abundance; their beautiful tresses they are pefectly willing to sell; and it is no uncommon sight to see several girls sheared one after the other like sheep, and many others standing ready for the shears, with their caps in their hands, and their long hair combed out and hanging down to their waists. Every successive crop of hair is tied up into a wisp by itself, and thrown into a large basket, placed by the side of the operator. The highest value given by these abominable hair-mer chants for a fine crop of hair is twenty sous, but the more frequent consideration is a gaudy but trumpery cotton handkerchief, worth about sixteen sous. The profit thus netted by these hairmongers must be enormous EMPLOYMENT.—' -The man who thinks to maintain a constant tenure of pleasure by a continued pursuit of sports and pleasures, deceives himself. The most voluptuous and loose person breathing, were he but tied to follow these pursuits every day, would find it the greatest torment and calamity that could befal him; he would fly to the mines and gallies for recre. ation, and to the spade and mattock for a diversion from the misery of a continual unremitted pleasure. But, on the contrary, the providence of God has so ordered the course of things, that there is no action the usefulness of which has made it the matter of duty and of a profession, but a man may lead the continual pursuit of it without loathing and satiety. The same shop that employs a man in his youth, employs him also in his age. Every morning he rises fresh to his work; custom has naturalised his labour to him; his shop is his element, and he cannot with any enjoyment of himself live out of it. The happiest life is that wherein a man is constantly employed. INDIA. Great encouragement is given to science and education by the Rajah of Travancore. He has established schools in every village and a fine observatory at Trevandrum. COMMUNICATION WITH INDIA.--Instead of a tedious, sometimes dangerous voyage of from six to ten months, the English traveller may now reach Bombay, the nearest station in India, in from forty to fifty days; seeing in his way some of the most interesting objects in the civilised world. cease. Ah! lady, heed the monitor! Thy mirror tells the truth; hair! BLACKWOOD. FIRST IMPRESSIONS.-It is only in the first moment in which you witness something which is entirely new to you, that you feel that novelty in all its vividness, and perceive really how widely divided is the nature and aspect of what you then contemplate from the objects of your former knowledge. Every hour that you continue to regard what strikes you with its fade and bedim themselves in proportion. You are newness, carries off the newness, and your impressions soon surpised to find how little there is to surprise you; how familiar all about you is become, as if you had conversed with it all your life. This is especially the case in regard to the novel aspect and manners of a foreign country. It is only by noting down on the spot, and at the moment, what strikes you, that you can secure the force of these first impressions: and when you afterwards refer to these notes, you are often no little astonished to find amid what really curious people and things you are existing, and yet how completely all the strangeness has vanished from your consciousness.-Howitt's Sketches. ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. "A. C. R.," Dingle.-Received. There was no necessity for endeavouring to disguise the handwriting, with which we are well acquainted. "R. S. C."-The tale and poem have come to hand: we shall give them due consideration. ***," Cork. We have endeavoured to meet your wishes, "W. F. C."-Subscribers have a peculiar claim upon us, and "S. S."-No. The paper possesses considerable merit, but "P. O."-Most willingly. We hope to hear from you again. "E. G.," "P. A.," and " B. E." declined. Printed for the Proprietors, at the Office, 32, Lower Sackville-street, Dublin, where all communications (post-paid) are to be addressed, to the Editor. Published by T. LE MESSURIER, (late T. TRGG and Co.) 9, Lr. Abbey-street, Dublin; and all Booksellers. THE DUBLIN JOURNAL OF TEMPERANCE, SCIENCE, AND LITERATURE. No. 15.-VOL. II. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY. I had THE YOUNG BARONET. Towards the close of the year 1826 I resided at the Adeline Hotel in Scarborough, which, for accommodation and comfort, was one of the best. Scarborough stands in the recess of a beautiful bay on the borders of the German Ocean, rising from the shore in the form of an amphitheatre. Mr. Nugent, who for many years filled a high situation in India, resided in one of the principal streets, the chief residence of the nobility. Bred amid the luxuries of life, and accustomed to society from his early years, he gave frequent balls and parties, which, for the elegant society that constituted them, and magnificence and wealth displayed on such occasions, were unrivalled in the town. Sir Robert Dillon, Bart., to whom Mr. Nugent was guardian, had completed his studies at Cambridge, and was expected to make one of the many that were invited to Mr. Nugent's ball on the 24th December, 1826. Arriving a few hours before evening, the young baronet dined with me. not seen him since he was a mere child, and I would not have recognised him had he not first accosted me. He was tall, well proportioned, and calculated to interest those with whom he conversed; in short, he was one that the ladies would adore and the gen tlemen admire. I was amused by an interesting account he was giving me of the chapel of King's College, Cambridge, which, for its splendid structure, is much admired, when I fortunately remembered that, as we had a considerable distance to go, it would be late ere we arrived at Mr. Nugent's if we tarried longer. Dressing, therefore, for the ball as expeditiously as possible, we found ourselves at the place of our destination sooner than we expected. On entering the ball-room, I was dazzled with the brilliancy of the numerous lights, displaying the splendour of everything around me. Lovely women, whose exquisite dresses added to their beauty, were not inattentive listeners to the insinuating language and impassioned avowals of gay lieutenants, gallant captains, and high functionaries. Passing a magni ficent suite of illuminated rooms, I led Sir Robert to Mr. Nugent, who was conversing with Lord Denham, a distant relation of the young baronet. Mr. Nugent greeted his ward with that sincerity which a fond father welcomes his son after an absence of many years: he loved him dearly, and no man ever discharged the duty of guardian more honourably than PRICE 1d. he did. He corresponded frequently with the young baronet's tutor, to know if Sir Robert was improving in his studies, and each time received an answer that he was one of the most talented and studious lads in the university. Such news was, indeed, gratifying in the paper as the successful candidate in mathe. to Mr. Nugent; but the morning he read his name matics and classics, he was really delighted. 66 Come, Robert," said he, taking his arm, "I must introduce you as the poor scholar to your little playfellow, Ellen; but I suppose you will not know each other, it is so many years since you have met.” pos At this moment a very beautiful girl was coming towards them, leaning on the arm of Lord Denham: she had attained the golden age of nineteen, and sessed all the charms of womanhood; her hair, dark and glossy as the raven's wing, was twined around her beautifully-formed head; her lips when parted displayed a uniform set of ivory teeth; but the touching loveliness of her features, heightened somewhat by a delicate paleness, could not fail to rivet the attention, and excite the admiration, of the beholder. "Come hither, Ellen," said her father, "until I introduce you to this poor scholar, who has met with unfavourable success in the literary world, and will join our family circle for a few days." Making her obeisance in a formal manner to the young man, she was about to proceed with her companion, when Lord Denham, turning to Mr. Nugent, said "Though I am an old man, yet I am not insensible to the smile that dimples the cheeks of your lovely daughter; but I feel it would be uncourteous in me not to resign her to this young stranger, to whom, as a guest, the rights of attention are to be paid, and who, I doubt not, will play the gallant better than I.” So saying, he relinquished Ellen Nugent to the care of the young baronet, and followed her father to the card-table. Sir Robert viewed her whom he had known in childhood with mingled admiration and delight, and seemed unconscious that his unwavering gaze had flushed deeper than usual the countenance of his guardian's daughter. If there are times in a man's life worth living for, surely this was one of those happy periods to the young baronet. Conversing with an admirably beautiful woman, who was the very art of pleasing personified, and whose eyes sparkled with spirit and the innocent joys of youth, it was no wonder that he felt all the power of feminine attractions, and experienced that degree of delight amounting to ecstacy. Twice or thrice he was about to call her his "dear Ellen," whom he had often gambolled with in his early days, when he as often restrained himself, lest the disclosure that he was the identical Robert whom she once knew might draw forth an ejaculation of surprise, which probably would attract the attention of those around them. After dancing a minuet, the supper-room was thrown open, and the guests seated themselves around the table, laden with costly viands, massive silver plate, the choicest wines, and all that could tempt and satisfy the cravings of the epicure. The sparkling wine had already exhilarated the spirits of some and obscured the faculties of others, when a door at the extremity of the room was opened by a female servant, whose dishevelled hair, disordered countenance, staring eyes, and death-like silence contrasted strangely with the happy group before her. Arising from my seat, I immediately proceeded towards her. Her lips scarcely moved, but I distinctly heard her give utterance to the word "Fire!" Looking in the direction towards which she pointed, I perceived a vivid glare of light issuing from an ante-room. The dreadful truth flashed across my mind the house was on fire! Beckoning to Mr. Nugent to follow me, I opened the door, when a light so intense as to dazzle vision burst upon our view. I instantly shut it, lest any of the company should see the blaze; then turning to Mr. Nugent, I exhorted him to be cal and follow my directions; but, ere I could advise an act, a loud shout from the street of "Fire!" announced to each one present the dreadful news. A volley of stones against the windows, to arouse the inmates, next followed. All started from their seats and rushed to the door; some gained the street; while others, less fortunate, were endeavouring to make a way for themselves through the crowd in the various apartments. Neither rank nor beauty was now respected. Handsome captains, who were before gay and gallant militaires, were now actuated by one feeling-self-preservation; wives clung to their husbands, daughters to their fathers, unheeded: no more amid that joyous assembly is heard the sound of revelry; the fear of death, in all its horrors, hath blanched the fairest cheeks, and withered the smile on the manly countenance of the soldier. A silent, heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving is breathed to the Eternal Being by those who escape the fury of the terrible element. Already it has communicated with thelower part of the building, and the piercing shrieks of those within sent a thrill of horror through the assembled multitude without. A hoary-headed old man, whose stalwart frame seemed to have suffered little from the ravages of time, bore from the smoking ruins several who, probably, but for his timely aid, would have fallen sacrifices to the unrelenting fury of the flames; and each time, on examining their features, did he turn away in apparent disappointment, again to brave the danger of the conflagration, and gain, if possible, her whom he sought. At length, exhausted by excessive exertion, he stood in speechless agony gazing on a female figure, whose surpassing beauty excited the interest no less than the admiration of the crowd. She stood near the drawing-room window, every pane of which was smashed to pieces; her hair wafted to and fro towards heaven; her heaving bosom betokening the emotion of her soul, and her blood-forsaken cheeks the consciousness of surrounding danger. "Oh! God," said Mr. Nugent, "give me strength to save my daughter, though I lose my life in the en deavour.' So saying, he rushed again into the burning dselling, ascended the wide staircase which led to the drawing-room, and ere a minute had elapsed he held his much-loved daughter in his arms; but his strength has failed, and he falls with his lovely daughter to the ground! A cry of horror arose from those who witnessed the sight, and "Save them, save them," was shouted from all sides; but none seemed inclined to obey the mandate, till a tall, athletic young man, calling for a ladder, placed it against the wall; then rushing in he ascended the stairs, which were now burning, and appeared not likely to withstand the fire much longer. Now he is seen distinctly by the light of the blazing embers rushing here and there: then again he is lost to view by columns of smoke enshrouding him in darkness. "He is a brave and noble youth!" were the words that all who witnessed his daring gave utterance to. But hark a loud crash is heard a faint scream follows-and Ellen Nugent is seen supporting the miserable form of her father! Every nerve in my body quivered for exertion; but my right ankle was sprained, and I stood a passive and unwilling spectator of the dreadful scene before me. Death, of the most appalling kind, seemed now inevitable both to father and daughter, when, just at this awful moment, the young man whom I have before mentioned, again appears, raises both in his arms, and with almost super-human strength bore them from the house. A deafening shout of applause greeted him as he reached the street. He turns his eyes once more towards the dwelling, and beholding a solitary being about to precipitate himself from one of the top-room windows, in a deep, manly voice, which I well know to be the young baronet's, he called to the wretched man to remain where he was, and ascending the ladder which he had placed against the wall in case of necessity, he entered the room from which but a short period before he had escaped with the greatest difficulty. The fire now raged in every part of the building, notwithstanding the vigorous efforts of the fire companies to stay its fury, and a low smothered flame ascending from the roof of the adjoining house showed that it was extending, and likely to communicate with a row of houses if not speedily suppressed. All seemed ready to lend a hand, provided neither flesh nor bones were endangered; and the most active means were resorted to to quench the flames. Mr. Nugent stood gazing fixedly and wildly on the flaming and smoking ruins, occasionally starting at the noise of the crackling and falling timbers, and alternately asking his daughter and me if we thought Robert would escape. My reader, doubtless, knows that it was Sir Robert Dillon who saved Mr. Nugent and his daughter. The old man on breathing the fresh air was restored, and learned from those around him that his young ward, heedless of the danger, had ventured again into the house to rescue Lord Denham. Several minutes had elapsed, and neither Sir Robert nor his lordship appeared. The back part of the building had now fallen with a tremendous crash; all hope of safety for any that was within it was now rejected. A simultaneous cry of horror burst from the crowd, which shortly was succeeded by rapturous applause, as the young baronet was seen descending the ladder, bearing Lord Denham on his right arm: his vast muscular strength enabled him to support his lordship with ease to himself; but reclining rather much, he lost his balance, and both fell to the ground. Fortunately, the height from which they fell was not considerable, and neither, though stunned, were injured. The street was now rendered impassable by the dense crowd that congregated to see the fire, and it was with difficulty, even at four o'clock in the morning when they began to disperse, that I made a passage through them and arrived at the Adeline Hotel. I was confined within doors for a couple of days, owing to a severe cold which I had got that night. Mr. Nugent, his daughter, and Sir Robert called to visit me one day during my illness. The former told me that he had lost property to a considerable amount on the night of the fire, but that for that he did not care, since his dearest treasure on earth was savednamely, Ellen Nugent; "and, doctor," said he, “if I donot patronise her preserver I certainly will be called a niggardly and ungrateful old fellow in the literary world, as the rascal is an author. Don't you think if I settle one hundred a-year on him for life, that I will discharge my obligation? But he saved my life also, and in consideration of this I shall double the annuity. Now, doctor, don't you think he ought to be satisfied?" " Certainly," said I, "the young b (I was about to say baronet; Mr. Nugent winked; I took the hint, and said)-"the young man ought to be thankful, and I have no doubt that, if industrious, he will ere long rise in the world, celebrated as an author." "Well, doctor," said he, "I perceive you have a flattering opinion of Robert's talents; but, what do you think? he had the presumption to make love to my daughter, and then ask my consent to marry her; and, what annoyed me most, this young_truant (turning to his daughter) favoured his addresses. Now, in order to put romantic ideas out of their heads, I am determined to dismiss this mad author, and have Ellen married immediately to Sir Robert Dillon, whom we expected this night at the ball; but I suppose he is loath to give up the pleasures of a college life so soon to be burdened with a wife; however, he will be in Scarborough this day week, when we shall expect the pleasure of your company at the wedding." Reader, I hasten to the conclusion. Mr. Nugent I have said loved the young baronet; his daring and gallant conduct on the night of the fire endeared him to his guardian more than ever. He ardently wished for a union between his daughter and Sir Robert, but he was not one of those fathers, on perceiving the attachment of young men whom they deem eligible matches, who sacrifice their daughter's happiness to their own caprice; he resolved that his daughter's choice should be unbiassed. Several persons of distinction had proposed for her, but were rejected, and he was annoyed on perceiving that the marked attention of the young baronet was treated with apparent indifference, promising no better success in joining the affections of his daughter than that of her former suitors. I have already mentioned that the young baronet and Ellen were playfellows, but separated when very young; it was impossible that they could know each other without being introduced, so great a change takes place between childhood and our riper years. My reader knows that Mr. Nugent introduced Sir Robert to his daughter as the poor scholar, and it now occurred to him that Ellen, who was not yet undeceived as to who the poor scholar really was, entertained doubts about his character, and probably thought he was some adventurer imposing upon the bounty of her father. Determined, however, to know if she had any affection for Sir Robert, he suddenly told her one day that he was going to be married to a very amiable creature. The pure alabaster paleness of her complexion was now dyed by a blush as deep as ever mantled o'er the face of Lovely woman, which quickly died away into an unnatural and deathlike paleness. Enough !" thought Mr.Nugent-" she loves him!" Then, feigning displeasure, he addressed Oh! father," said Ellen, "surely you would not mar my happiness in this life by uniting me with a man whom I have not seen for many years, and for whom, perhaps, I will feel no attachment beyond that of mere friendship." These brief and artless words, accompanied by a look so bewitching and entreating, had such an effect upon Mr. Nugent, that he could not dissemble anger any longer, and, taking her hand kindly in his, he said "This day fortnight I have appointed to be the wedding day. Sir Robert then will be in town; but if, on seeing him, you do not wish to become his wife, I shall then permit you to choose whom you will, even Robert Dresden. But tell me, Ellen, do you love him?" "I do!" were the words the lovely girl uttered, as the delighted father left the room. The 25th of January, 1827, was a bright and de lightful morning, the sun shining in unveiled and majestic splendour from the heavens. A bridal party are assembled at Mr. Nugent's house; every heart is merry; every countenance is the index of a happy mind. A splendid chariot is at the door. Nugent entered the house leaning on Sir Robert's arm; he advanced to his daughter Ellen. Mr. "You know that it is my wish that you marry Sir Robert, but then I promised to leave you to your choice, if, after seeing him, you would have an objection to become his wife. Now behold him! Sir Robert Dillon your playfellow, and Robert Dillon who saved your life, are one and the same. Now he appears in propria persona to claim you as his future wife. Say, will you have him for a husband?" Reader, surprise and joy were equally depicted on Ellen's face she gave her hand to the young baronet, who led her to the church, where the holy bond of matrimony united them for ever. P. H. STANZAS TO ELIZA, On returning a waist-riband which she had lost. I envy the wretch not his vile soul's devotion, TIME. The difference of longitude causes a very considerable variation of time. In Dublin the clock is 25 minutes 31 seconds too slow, and at Edinburgh 12 minutes 43 seconds too slow; whilst at Paris it s 9 minutes 21 seconds too fast! NOTES IN AUSTRALIA. THE BUSHMAN. it attentively. A good lock," said he to himself, again cocking it. He looked at me; I dared not stir. He raised it like an experienced marksman to his shoulder, and aimed at some object near me. I thought my hour was come; I closed my eyes in silent horror; I was sure I was to be the victim. Oh! what words can describe my feelings on the occasion. I expected momentarily to hear the bulletmy own bullet! from my own rifle!-crashing through my brain! crept over me!-what a host of feelings crowded on my mind in a moment! I thought to jump up and beg my life. No; he would shoot me, thinking I was about to resist. Suppose (thought I) I snatch his rifle. No; I would have his bullet through my brain in a moment. I Oh! what a sensation of horror Never did any human being endure such agony of mind as I did. All my past transgressions crowded on my imagination. I thought the judgment just; but to be shot by, perhaps, a murderer, the thought was harrowing to my soul. Oh! Lord forgive! I looked, and his eye was on me; I Some short time groaned in agony and fainted. me he was gone, thought I. Would to heaven that after, I again recovered my senses. I looked around vacantly around. I saw him squibbing his rifle quite (From the Tale-book of a Traveller.) unconcernedly, which was wetted in the boat. He The summer sun shone beautifully bright, as a then loaded it most cautiously, after which, laying it fragile bark was shoved from the beach by a power-cocked it and recocked it several times, and examined carefully on the ground, he took up mine, quietly unfully built man, who seemed by his haste and exertions to have something troubling him else than the amusement of rowing on the surface of the little tranquil lake. All nature seemed hushed; the birds even seemed as if lazy to open their throats and enliven the scene by their mellow notes; no sound disturbed the quiet of the scene, except occasionally the flap and flutter of the swallow-tailed duck, and the discordant whistle of the orinthorynchus. The day was excessively hot, and by the superhuman exertions of the boatman, it would seem as if the little canoe flew over the rippleless lake. What could occasion it, thought I; why does he come so carelessly thro' the birds I have been expecting to get a shot at for the last fifteen minutes?-he has just disturbed that curious amphibious animal at which I have been endeavouring to get a shot for the last week. suddenly heard the deep-mouthed yowl of the blood hound. The truth flashed across me he was a felon who had escaped from the penal settlements, and was now pursued by the officers of justice. My suspicions were very shortly confirmed. I heard the reports of some half dozen rifles and saw the bullets patter here and there about the canoe so closely, that I judged the pursuers were no bad marksmen. I heard a piteous moan from the boat after the shots; the rower threw himself in the bottom of the canoe after the first shot; I saw a hare or deer-skin cap cautiously appear over the gunwale of the canoe; I saw a rifle presented towards his pursuers along the stern; I saw a flash; heard a report; my eye could detect no object until after the shot, and I saw the blood hound on the opposite shore leap convulsively in the air from a rock under which his pursuers lay; another volley from his pursuers; he now jumped on his appointed seat, heedless of any chance shot from his pursuers: I saw from his now hurried and agitated manner that some misfortune or other had befallen him; he stooped repeatedly to the bottom of the boat; I saw his reason; his canoe was sinking! He urged it with the strength of a despairing man towards the shore, on which I was concealed: he succeeded in forcing it to within 30 yards of the bank; the water was to the gunwale; he jumped out suddenly, and waded towards the shore, dragging the canoe after him: the boat soon stranded; he returned and took his rifle out of it, with a little white terrier dog, and stood on the shore rubbing the wounded limb of his favourite, and shaking the wet from his own drenched limbs. I was so placed, that I could not escape without his seeing me, and after remaining for about half an hour unseen, during which time he had bound up the wound in his dog's thigh, I put as bold a face on the matter as I could and stalked boldly up to him, with my rifle cocked, merely for self-protection. He had just taken the wounded dog in his arm, and also his rifle, which he had, in military parlance, at the trial, when I accosted him. "Where are you going, friend" said I. He started at the word, and threw his rifle and dog from him, at the same time snatching a pistol from his belt. I saw it, and raised my rifle to his breast. Quicker than lightning his pistol flashed; I felt a curious sensation about the crown of my head, and as his words-" Another devil done for!" reached my ears, I fell and fainted. The bullet grazed my head rather deeply, and after the loss of some blood my senses returned; I opened my eyes and looked he was; but I was destined to endure other trials: I was lying on my side and he was behind me. I soon got a ruthless pull, which left me on my back. My gold chain caught his eye; he laid his hand on it, and it was transferred with my gold watch (at which he looked as if he knew not what it was) to his neck, more fitted for an hempen chain. My purse was also appropriated to his person. He opened my vest; a black ribbon was there, from which was suspended a locket containing the hair of my father and mother entwined, with the words engraved on the back"God Bless our Boy!" The plain but beautiful picture of my sister (I was too young to love any other) was clutched with the locket in the ruffian's right hand. He laid his left on my breast, and gave a sudden jerk which separated the ribbon, which was also transferred. I would have resisted, but what use his dagger, a foot long, would be in the twinkling of an eye through my head, or a pistol bullet would give me my quietus. I thought to beg of him to take all but the locket and miniature. What a foolish thought, to ask a boon from a robber, a felon, whose answer might be afew inches of cold steel! He was throughout under the impression that I was dead, and a man who would not hesitate to fire as he did, and to rob me, without a tinge of compassion or compunction coming over his features, could not be the person capable of granting a boon to a person totally in his power. After plundering me, he took the two rifles, my ammunition, and with the greatest coolness walked off. I never saw him again. E. B. B. IMPURITY.-Give no entertainment to the beginnings, the first motions, and secret whispers of the spirit of impurity. For if you totally suppress it, it dies; if you permit the furnace to breathe its smoke and flame out of any vent, it will rage to the consumption of the whole. READING WITHOUT REFLECTION.-Nothing has such a tendency to weaken, not only the powers invention, but the intellectual powers in general, as habit of extensive reading without reflection. Me * An animal of the otter species, with a bill like a duck-it is reading loads, oppresses, enfeebles, and, with many amphibious. is a substitute for thinking. |