Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

ADULTERATION OF MILK.

The consumption of milk in large towns is a temptation to the dealers in that article to adulterate it extensively. The chief source of adulteration is water, although many persons fancy that chalk, flour, or starch are among the adulterants employed. A moment's consideration will show that chalk cannot be employed to adulterate milk, because it is insoluble therein. But flour may with more probability be employed; thus, the milk is largely diluted with water; a little brown sugar or treacle is added to restore the sweetness; the flour is mixed with water, and boiled; and the paste thus produced is soluble in the milk and water. M. Barreul, in his memoir on milk, published a few years ago, states this was one of the modes in which the Parisian milkmen adulterated milk, and on continuing, a searching analysis into the fraud thus practised, it was found that they sometimes employed an emulsion of sweet almonds, with which, for the cost of about one franc, they were able to convert thirty pints of water into milk; but finding a cheaper article in hemp-seed, that became employed instead of almonds; thus was milk, until the fraud was discovered, manufactured from a small quantity of cows' milk mixed with these adulterants. Some of the Parisian milkmen resorted to a practice which acquired for them the reputation of selling milk that never turned sour. This was done by adding a small quantity of subcarbonate of potash or soda to their artificial milk, which, saturating the latic acid as fast as it formed, prevented the coagulation of the curd. The flavour of milk is so peculiar, that these or any other adulterations might soon be detected if the use of them became prevalent.

|

MIGRATING BIRDS.

The late Dr Jenner, in a curious paper on the migration of birds, published since his death in the Phil. Trans., mentions the following curious experiment:" At a farm-house in this neighbourhood I procured several swifts, and by taking off two claws from the foot of twelve, I fixed upon them an inde lible mark. The year following, their nesting places were examined in an evening, when they had retired to roost, and there I found several of the birds. The second and third year a similar search was made, and did not fail to produce some of those that were marked. I now ceased to make an annual search; but, at the expiration of seven years a cat was seen to bring a bird into the farmer's kiter en, and this also proved to be one of those marked for the experiment."

A STRONG MAN NEVER DESPAIRS.-If our young men miscarry in their first enterprises, they lose all heart. If the young merchant fails, men say he is ruined. If the finest genius studies at one of our colleges, and is not installed in an office within one year afterwards in the cities or suburbs of Boston or New York, it seems to his friends and to himself that he is right in being disheartened, and in complaining the rest of his life. A sturdy lad from New Hampshire or Vermont, who in turn tries all the profes sions, who teams it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school, preaches, edits a newspaper, goes to congress, buys a township, and so forth, in successive years, and always like a cat, falls on his feet, is worth a hundred of these city dolls. He walks abreast with his days, and feels no shame in not "studying a profession;'. for he does not postpone his life, but lives already. He has not one chance, but a hundred chances.-American Paper.

CABBAGE. The cabbage, observes a French journal, is a sovereign remedy for intoxication from wine, and has even the power of preventing it; for we are HOPE is a prodigal young heir, and experience his informed that, by eating a certain quantity of cabbage banker, but his drafts are seldom honoured, as there before dinner, we may drink as much wine as we please without experiencing any inconvenience. This prois often a heavy balance against him, because he draws largely on a small capital, is not in possession,perty of the cabbage is also mentioned by ancient and if he were, would die.

CONTRADICTION. Do not indulge in the spirit of contradiction. If this spirit be encouraged it will not only render you ridiculous but even despicable. Wisdom never fails censuring it. It may be ingenious to discover difficulties in most things, but it is folly to be obstinate in them. The advice of Juan Ruffo is good on this head. He recommends all disputes to be given up when either of the parties become warm, and he says that victory is with him who flies from the dispute. Socrates, in speaking of one of his contemporaries, who was partial to contradicting, remarks, that he was fit only for solitude, since he could not agree with others. Such men as these turn the most innocent conversation into petty warfare, and become the enemies of their friends. Fools and fantastic people are not only beasts, but they are also savage beasts.

THE PERPETUAL COMEDY.-The world is the stage, men are the performers, chance composes the

writers, who are of opinion that it proceeds from the antipathy which wine shows to the cabbage : if a cabbage be planted near a vine, the latter either retires or dies.

BROKEN CORRESPONDENCE.-Swift, alluding in a letter to the frequent instances of a broken correspondence, gives the following natural account of the causes :-" At first one remits writing for a little, and then one stays a little longer to consider of excuses, and at last it grows desperate, and one does not write at all.-At this rate, he adds, I have served others, and have been served myself."

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. "***"' Cork.-Accept our thanks for your kind attention. Your "first attempt" shall be attended to in our next. Other favours are highly esteemed.

"J. M. R."-Third portion received-when may we expect the conclusion? We regret the delay which the want of it necessarily incurs. Instructions shall be attended to.

quired, and are anxious to retain your good opinion. This week we have had a large accession to our list of contributors. We shall endeavour to please all in due course.

pieces, the fools shift the scenery-the philosophers «P. C." Gorey.-We have forwarded the numbers you reare the spectators. The rich occupy the boxes-the powerful have their seat in the pit, and the poor sit in the gallery. The fair sex presents the refreshment the tyrants occupy the treasury bench; and those forsaken by lady fortune snuff the candles. Folly makes the concert, and time drops the curtain.

NECESSITY FOR PLEASURES.-In every community there must be pleasures, relaxations, and means of agreeable excitement; and if innocent ones are not furnished, resort will be had to criminal.-Channing.

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. TEGG & Co., 8, Lower Abbey-street, DubIn; and all Booksellers.

THE DUBLIN JOURNAL

OF TEMPERANCE, SCIENCE, AND LITERATURE.

No. 4.-VOL. II.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY.

LIFE AND ITS VARIETIES.

No. II.

THE EMIGRANT.

"Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,

Pursuing fortune's sliddery ba',
With melting heart and brimful eye

I'll mind you all tho' far awa."—BURNS.

PRICE 1d.

of twelve and three o'clock, pacing the pavé of Sackville-street, exquisitely redolent of tobacco and D'Orsayism. Their characteristics mostly are, a lip moustached like a weedy oyster, a head as exuberant in hair as it is deficient in knowledge, and eyes whose impertinent gazes are only mollified by their own inexpressiveness. One would almost feel inclined to compassionate them for being doomed to support the weight of their own "bulk," or the more Atlas-like effort of carrying their own canes; or love the "gentle exquisites" for voluntarily exhibiting themselves to the optics of the fair, as fine samples of those animals called "killing creatures." Or they may yet be seen more advantageously, between the hours of eight and ten, clustered and beclouded in the menageries of the cigar divans, thundering out, in Stentor tone, that climacteric of dandyism, the "English shibboleth;" or, in more modulated accents, and with voices, as Nat Lee would say, "slippery and sweet as buttered peas," recounting the triumph of their curls and supreme influence over the susceptibility of the other sex. These, dear readers, apparently useless, and decidedly

Whatever cause draws the emigrant from the land of his nativity-whether it be adventure, necessity, or speculation-whether the proposed term of his absence be long or short-few go from the shores of their fatherland with other than deeply affected feelings. Distant countries may hold out to the speculator golden promises of success-to the adventurer gladdening visions of interesting variety, and to the necessitous positive escape from present exigencies; yet, never have we witnessed a merry emigrant. The love of country seems so knitted in the soul, and the spirit so twines itself with the inanimate, because associated with the once living objects of the heart's affection, that departure necessarily shakes, if it do not sunder, the subtile chords that link the heart's earliest aspirations to the cherished hopes of subse-ridiculous, members of society are persons who pass quent fulfilment.

The powerful force of this feeling has proved one of the greatest bars to the intentions of emigration societies; and, so ineradicable is it, that the poor of many countries prefer indigence in a hut at home to offers of independence abroad; and when they have been induced to embrace it, it was with gloomy reso. lution and suspicion, or in the fevered hope of a speedy realisation of desired aggrandisement.

Many, we know, have had energy and strength of mind to hold their feelings in abeyance, and, at a sacrifice of self, give a noble example to their fellows. Thousands have taken courage to follow their example, and thousands more been drawn by the coercion of friendships and claims of relationship. Yet we perceive a class at home, useless in society-powerless to promote themselves in a country, where every path to employment is closed but to patronised or superior men loitering away the opportunities of youth, and “cigaring” out their minds in listless or depraved frivolity, to whom emigration would unclose an avenue to usefulness-a refuge from the odium of worthless encumberers, which the Americans expressively denominate "ANAFAGERS."

The curious of our readers may perceive specimens of the class alluded to any fine day, between the hours

as gentlemen through courtesy, but are widely different from those whom Paddy would call "the rale jintlemen." They frequently—we regret, too frequently— are the sons of those whom profession or position give a title to the name, but who, in the endeavour to keep up an appearance, live up to the full measure of their means, and rear their children in a style, and with ideas, more in accordance with their desires than their prudence. Such persons educate their daughters in speculation for husbands, and dream that a patter on a piano may win a proposal or a property; their sons are half educated, half accomplished, and idle, with no definite object in life, but too often the vain expectancy of ministerial appointment, or the more absurd hope of cutting their road to fame with the scissors of their tailor, and storming with their "Newmarkets" the citadel of some heiress's heart. These young men are turned out upon society to practice, what Paddy Murphy calls the "arts of war "_" deceptive demonstrations:" furnished with as much pocket-money by maternal agency as keeps them in cigars, and as much extravagance as drives them into debt, they become locomotive nuisances or peripatetic plagues. To such we say, regardless of their "daring," emigration would be a blessingwould open a field for exertion they can never find at

home, and give them an opportunity of " astonishing
the natives" of some distant colony by a display of
their superdulcified attractions. Their parents would
be conferring a favour on society-relieving themselves
of a burden, and promoting their children's good, if
they would make them more self-dependent, and throw
them into positions where necessity would command
exertion. This cannot be better effected than by
sending them to the colonies, where the infant state
of society offers hopes of success, and the applications
for employment are fewer than its requirements.
But as the attention of mankind commonly dwells
upon comparisons between respective conditions, and
is generally busy in contemplating the advantages
which others possess, we will propose, for the con-
sideration of those "erquisites," a short narrative of
the history of "one of themselves," whose father had
sense to act as a prudent man; and let them pronounce
in the end whether the life they lead, or that he was
forced to adopt, are most happy, or likely to lead to
most fortunate results.

George A. was one of those loungers well known by appearance to most of those resident in Grafton, Dame, and Sackville-streets; probably better by name in the establishments of Mitchell and the Bohemian brothers, and not altogether astranger in the “Shades" of Jude, whither he resorted as often as the surplus of his pence could afford a "moistener" to his cigar, or the companionship of his puffing was solicited by a friend. Long and adventurous had been his services as a chaperon, and various were his tales of feminine susceptibility, and the potency of his whiskers thereon; | but larger far were the bills of his tailor, and more various the expedients he had tried for their "quietus," until the arms of the marshalsea opened to embrace him for the kindness of his tendencies thereto.

Mr. A., though a man of strong sense, had fallen into the delusion common to parents in a similar position, and was only awakened by the result of his son's imprudence; he was keenly alive to the present disgrace, and of forecast sufficient to predict a return of it, if means were not adopted for its prevention. He found it impossible to procure an appointment at home, and he knew his son's disinclination to exertion as long as he could betake to a parent's resources. With one of those efforts of decision peculiar to well balanced minds, and but rare among mankind, but especially among parents, he determined to send him abroad, as he said himself, "from the apron strings of his mother," and throw him, as the only means of saving him from dissipation and disgrace, to sink or swim by his own exertions. The accomplishment of his purpose, however, was by no means easy, for George was too much attached to his kindred spirits, and had fancied himself an essential to the happiness of some dozen fair ones, who made him in reality but a standing jest, to be induced to transport his sweetness to a desert, or waft the rays of his satins over ocean's caves to any colony. The father was obliged to make use of some artifice, and effect by his son's vanity what persuasion would never have done for that son's good. George was one of those whom predominance of self esteem makes desirous of command, and gratifies by any opportunity of display; he was not wholly insensible to the disgrace his imprudences had incurred, and, in the bashfulness of an honest and young heart, he dreaded to encounter-for ridicule to him was worse than death-the "quizzing" of his companions, or the taunts of his enemies, but more than either, the disapproving looks of Selina H..

[ocr errors]

an heiress of large expectations, to whom he had for some time been paying his address-more, to do him dore Hook would say, from "an affection of the justice, through appreciation of herself, than, as Theochest." He anxiously longed to absent himself by travel for a season, and besought his father to allow him; but the finances of the family were too limited to enable him.

The father, however, was one of those shrewd and active men who can improve every opportunity, and seized upon the present to carry into operation what he had long desired, but almost despaired to accomplish. To propose emigration would have been horror to George and hysterics to his mamma; so he was obliged to effect his measures by stratagem, and, to save a beloved son from inevitable ruin, torture his own feelings, and push the child of his heart rather to trust on probabilities abroad, than to sink into positive disgrace at home

A friend of Mr. A.'s was just then about to sail to Sydney with a cargo of farming utensils and agricultural labourers; he had engaged the services of a young surgeon, once the schoolmate of George, and wanted a person to act as supercargo and inspector. Mr. A. immediately consulted with his son-shewed him how chance had presented an opportunity to satisfy his wishes-represented the great pleasure of the trip-the advantages derivable, and the interest it would give him on his return.

George, delighted to escape for what he imagined would be but a few months, at once entered into his | father's plans, embraced the offer, and on the 10th of August, 18, sailed from Liverpool in the Zebra. Though hopeful of a pleasant voyage, and a quick return-though well supplied with money, accompanied by a friend, unembarrassed with any care, and, in fact, every way eager for the trip, George could not suppress a “queerish” sensation when gazing on the receding mountains of his country, and he found all the consolation of an "Havannah" ineffectual to remove it. It is a mysterious and inexplicable feeling swaying every mind, no matter how obtuse, on first departure from its country, and we are inclined to think produced more by the awful grandeur of the "deep and dark blue ocean" awaking the subtler sympathies of our natures, and impregnating our hearts with the sublimities of universal love, than arising from the regret of severance, or a mistrust in futurity. The voyage was agreeable and quick; George was greatly pleased with the society of his friend and the novelty of the life. On the 20th of October, they passed Macquarie tower, and bore full sail into the magnificent harbour of Port Jackson. They shortly after entered that of Sydney, where he was astonished as much by the appearance of general traffic, evidenced by the extent of shipping, as he was by the natural beauty and grandeur of the scene. To him it was, indeed, unexpected; for he had supposed Sydney to be a rude and primitive sort of town, unpossessed of any of the ornaments of art, and tenanted but by needy and hard-working adventurers, while the surrounding country was desolate and woody, and filled but with kangaroos and savages. But he found it a handsomely built and beautifully situated town, containing more than all the conveniences and luxuries to be found in any British one of same extent; he looked with admiration on the regular and handsome markets, their public institutions, and commercial buildings; he perceived steam-engines as active, and stage-coaches as numerous, as at home; their hotels as accommodating, and their newspapers as intelligent. lie found he had reckoed without his host, and, as his disappointment was so agreeable, his enjoyment should be unbounded. He began to think that a continuance there would not be very " borish" after all, at least for some

time. The ship in which he had gone out was detained, from sundry causes, beyond the term of its proposed stay; the captain was only so far admitted into the secret by Mr. A. that he should not bring his son home again, but, on the day of his departure from Sydney, should deliver a letter, which was given him, to George. The delay was unfortunate for George; for, ignorant of what was before him, and calculating on return, he made no effort to husband his finances, but squandered them recklessly in the pursuit of every pleasure, and even disposed of the superfluities of his wardrobe to supply means for his enjoyment: at last, however, the vessel sailed unknown to George, on the 4th of January, 18, of which occurrence he was apprised next morning, by the receipt of the following

note:

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

George, nervous and alarmed, tore open his father's letter, and read as follows:

"MY DEAR GEORGE-In consulting for your welfare, I have been forced to the adoption of a plan which, however harsh it may seem to you at first, will, I am convinced, ultimate to your advantage, if you but take the God of your fathers for your guide, and abandon those habits which have caused your removal.

"I have dealt more than liberally with you, considering my means, and on your own exertion you must now depend, which I doubt not will be successful, if well regulated. In Sydney there are many posts to which you will be eligible, which I regret was not the case at home: economise your money, and set at once to look about you; be a man-be resolute-be steady-be industrious, and you must succeed. That the Almighty may bless you with his wisdom, and pros per every proper effort, is the anxious wish and constant prayer of your loving and affectionate father,

"SAMUEL A.”

George's distraction, on reading this, amounted almost to phrenzy; in his bitterness of soul, selfdestruction was his first immediate impulse, and the plans of his loving parent might have eventuated awfully, contrary to his hopes. The scheme was hazardous, and, however prosperous in the sequel, such as we must disapprove; for the consequences would have proved most tragic, had not an inherited pride and an affection for Selina H. acted as preventives to the promptings of his desperation. As we mean not to prolong the narrative by dwelling upon feelings or trivial incidents, though productive of greater, let it suffice to say, George did rouse himself; solicited and obtained employment, though we must say in a very subordinate sphere; but, determined to succeed, no difficulty deterred him; and the once essenced exquisite of Sackville-street, struggled unmurmuringly through all the privations of difficulty, and all the gradations of divers employments, until he became the proud possessor of a princely fortune, and master of extensive properties. Nor, through all, did the light that so transcendently excites man's energies and illumes his heart-the light of woman's love-suffer obscuration: he returned last season with twenty thousand pounds, to woo the idol of his first affection, who willingly bethrothed herself and fortunes on him who proved himself so worthy of them; and at this moment George A. and Selina are the benefactors of the society and the gladenners of the circle in which they move. His father is declining to the grave with a

happy and grateful heart, having the pillow of his age smoothed by the goodness of that son, whom his prudence and decision rescued from dissipation.

Though we strongly disapprove of the plan taken by Mr. A. to effect his son's emigration, we cannot too highly praise his decision, or too strenuously uphold him as an example to parents having like sons; nor to such sons could we propose a better subject for consideration. At home, their prospects are distant and indefinite-their habits frivolous and idle, if not despicable and disgraceful-their own lives unhappy, and the cause of unhappiness to others their example pernicious, and their practices too often bad in the colonies, such persons could find a sphere for action, if not altogether adequate to their desires, perfectly equal to their deserts: and society at home would be much benefitted by being rid of the greatest cause of its demoralisation-FASHIONABLE, UNPROPERTIED, and PROSPECTLESS IDLERS!

TRIFLES FROM TOURIN-BY EDWARD WALSH.

SONG TO A SONGSTRESS.

Avert that eye's refulgent ray,

O cease thy song enchanting! That light but leads my soul astray, Thy voice mine ear is haunting.

In mercy to thy poet's moan,

Bid roaring seas us sever,
Or let me name thee all mine own,
And shine and sing for ever!

As David's song to Saul was sweet,
When vexed with fiend unholy;
Thou art to me the minstrel meet

To hush my sorrow solely.
But sure thou art some evil sprite
In angel guise pursuing-
For Othy tone and eye of light
Have wrought my soul's undoing.
When I my orisons repeat,

And sigh to be forgiven;

A sigh for thee will steal to meet
Its sister-sigh in Heaven!

When Heaven's rich glories are display'd

Before my feasted vision,

Thou and thy song, O! magic maid!

Mix with the dream Elysian.

If thine be mortal race alone,
Resume that music never,
Or let me name thee all mine own
And shine and sing for ever.

AVOID QUARRELLING. One of the most perfectly foolish things is to quarrel. There is no kind of necessity, no manner of use in it-no special benefit to be gained by it. No man ever failed to think less of himself after, than he did before a quarrel; it degrades him in his own eyes, and in the eyes of others; it blunts his sensibility to disgrace, and increases the power of passionate irritability. The more quietly and peaceably we get along, the better. If a man cheats you, quit dealing with him; if he is abusive, quit his company; if he slanders you, live so that nobody will believe him. No matter who he is, or how he treats you, the wisest revenge you can resort to is, to let him alone; for there is nothing better than this cool, calm, quiet way of treating the wrongs we may

meet with.

CORNISH ENGINES.-The number of pumping engines reported this month is 41. They have consumed 2,850 tons of coals; and lifted 25 million tons of water 10 fathoms high. The average duty of the whole is, therefore, 51,000,000lbs., lifted one foot high by the consumption of a bushel of coal.-Lean's Engine Reporter.

THE HEART, GREAT VESSELS, AND
CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD.

The important subject of the circulation of the blood cannot fail of being interesting to our general readers. We shall, therefore, lay before them a brief account of it, divested of that complication which renders it only intelligible to anatomists.

The heart, by the contraction of which the blood is circulated, has arising out of it two great blood vessels, whose branches extend to all parts of the body, accompanying each throughout the one is the great artery, the aorta, and the other the great vein, or vena cava. The heart has also two other great vessels arising from its other side; one called the great artery of the lungs, or pulmonary artery; the other, the great vein of the lungs, or pulmonary vein. Let us, therefore, keep in view that the heart has four large trunks communicating with it, and that at the junction of each with the heart, there are placed valves most beautifully perfect, which act in such a manner as to admit the tide of blood through its own proper channel, in passing and repassing the heart and lungs, and to immediately fly up and prevent its improper return, like floodgates. Arteries are always accompanied by veins closely connected together; the arteries carrying the blood from the heart-the veins carrying it back to it. An artery is elastic, and can contract and dilate-a vein is an inactive flaccid tube. An artery has no valve in its whole course to the extremities of the body-a vein has valves placed at very short distances. The valves are to support the upper column of blood as it ascends from below back to the heart, flying up and acting as a floor to that portion of blood which is above it, and between the next valve and itself: thus every motion of our limbs moves the blood in the veins, and that motion can be no other than upwards, on account of those valves; while the motion of the blood in the arteries is directly from the contraction of the heart, and it has a free current to the extreme parts of the body.

Now as to the circulation.-The blood is sent out

at one gush, or pulsation, throughout the whole body, into the most minute branches of the arteries: those arteries make a turn, and, losing their elasticity, become veins, which grow large in proportion as they go towards the heart, and lie exactly in the course of their corresponding arteries. Into these veins the blood is therefore forced, after having supplied the various secretions of the body. This blood is thus brought back by the great vein, or vena cava, and at its junction with the left jugular and subclavian vein, it receives by a little tube the white chyle or essence of the food brought by that tube from the stomach. The blood is then unfit for the arteries, and is therefore carried into one little cavity of the heart, and at one pulsation is driven by the pulmonary artery into the lungs, where, coming in contact with the air through their membranes, it absorbs oxygen from air breathed, which changes its colour from dark to bright red. The blood thus prepared for supporting life is taken back by the pulmonary veins into the other side of the heart, which communicates with the aorta, and by one pulsation is sent to all parts of the body, returning again as before through the veins; and this course takes place at every pulsation of that great and beautiful machine-the heart!

CONTENTMENT.-Let us with out repining give up those splendours with which numbers are wretched, and seek in humbler circumstances that peace with which all may be happy; we have still enough for happiness, if we are wise, and let us draw upon content for the deficiencies of fortune.

THE BEGGAR-A FRAGMENT. What a creature is man!-To-day he stands in health and vigour, every string performing its proper part in the "grand chorus" of his harmonised system; to-morrow his jarring nerves are untuned by disease!-to-day the smiling sun of prosperity darts its fascinating influence upon him; to-morrow the frowning blasts of adversity hover around him :—today he is rioting in affluence and plenty; to-morrow he solicits the cold hand of charity, the sport of fortune, and insulted by his fellow mortals!

Thus was I musing as I walked along, when I was suddenly struck with the reverend figure of a man, reclined against the tottering remains of an ancient edifice. His threadbare garments, that hung loosely about him, would scarcely cover his nakedness-they had been sadly rent by the fingers of time! his silvery beard swept his aged breast; and his appearance, in every respect, bespoke the extremest poverty. I halted a moment to observe him; he was eating (or rather devouring) what appeared to me to be a bit of mouldy bread-but he ate it with a seemingly good appetite, and, for aught I know, with a more grateful heart than thousands who were at the same moment feeding on the greatest luxuries.

the will of heaven.

As he enjoyed his little repast, he looked earnestly at me" and I at him and he at me again;" but I could perceive nothing like a murmur on his countenance; though an outcast of fortune, he did not repine at his fate, but seemed perfectly resigned to He asked alms, it is true, but it was only the dumb pleadings of expressive silence; yet, it did not fail to touch the heart of humanity; for, even now, the mite of Charity, conveyed by the hand of Pity, found its way to this child of want: he thanked the bestower of it with a nod, and a look that plainly bespoke a heart overflowing with grati tude;-I could not be mistaken, for at that moment a faithful witness stole along the furrows of his griefworn cheek, that gave full evidence to the feelings of his soul! With my mind deeply affected, I moved slowly on, and, as I did, I perceived he once more raised his tearful eye towards, me, that seemed to say, "Don't despise me!" No, my suffering friend, I would not drop an unfriendly word, or even display a frowning conntenance, to disturb thy tranquillity, for all the gold the Peruvian mines contain! but, believe me, had fortune been more favourable in her gifts towards me, thou shouldest not only be better clothed and fed, but thou shouldest sit at the same table with me, and I would hear the history of thy misfortunes from thy On some future day-but alas! I shall see thee no more adieu--wherever thou wanderest, may the greatest of all blessings attend thee-"true G. peace of mind!"

own mouth.

One of

DISCOVERIES AT POMPEII.-A letter from Naples, received at Paris, states, that in continuing the researches at Pompeii, there have just been found in Via Fortunæ, four fine paintings in fresco adorning the walls of as many contiguous houses. them is distinguished above the rest by the superior correctness of its drawing and the beauty and fresh. ness of colour, and will, therefore, be taken from its place to be deposited in the Bourbon Museum in the capital. It represents Bacchus and Faunus pressing grapes brought to them by a young slave, while a boy is directing the flow of the juice into an amphora imbedded in the ground. This painting, which measures 23 feet by 13, is supposed to have been the sign of an inn or wine-house. It has already been copied in lithograph.

« PreviousContinue »