SCRAPS FROM IRISH HISTORY.

DONEGAL CASTLE.

In the year 1601, the celebrated chieftain, O'Donell, (Hugh the Red.) having lost all hopes of success in Ulster, proceeded with his troops to join the Spaniards, who had landed at Kinsale, in the south of Ireland, ere he left his native hills, never to return. He reduced the castle of his ancestors to a ruined pile, alleging, as a reason, "That it should never become a fortress for the stranger !"-Irish Annals.

His good war-horse stands at the gate,
His helm is on his brow,

And in the court his vassals wait

Why stops O'Donell now?

And pace alone yon lofty hall,

Where moon-beams deck the casement tall,

Above him hang in silken fold

The banners of his race,

Around are shield and hawberk old,

And trophies of the chase;

While high, o'er all, the cressets light
Reveals the wall with arras dight.
Silent he walks, with visage stern,

And downcast eye and look,

And from his mien well might you learn
Dark thoughts his bosom shook-

As oft he stopt his fitful stride,
And round him wrapt his mantle wide.
The foe hath conquered, and this hour
The chieftain leads his train
Far o'er the hills, and Easka's tower
Shall never view again.

And now within its walls he stays

To muse alone on other days.

The very shadows of that place

Were unto him as friends,
And many a vanish'd form and face
In fancy o'er him bends,
Familiar to his heart and home,
While thus he kept his vigil lone.

Sad thoughts came o'er him, like a cloud,
And mem'ries of the past,
And then his heart, with sorrow bow'd,
Pour'd forth its grief at last,
As thus, in husky tones, he spoke,
While hot tears from his eyelids broke:
"Home of my fathers, oh! how oft,
When captive in my cell,

I've thought of thee, and slumber soft
Upon my eyelids fell;

Back mem'ry brought with soothing dream
Thy stately walls and glassy stream.
"And when, in far Imala's glen,

I sank beneath the storm,

While winter's winds howl'd round me then,
And snow-drifts wrapt my form;
In that drear hour of woe and ill
'Twas thoughts of thee that cheer'd me still.
"Hall of my childhood! must I part
From thee, far hence to roam

A wanderer, with an aching heart,
An exile from my home?

While Saxon churls thy hearths shall take,
And in thy walls their dwelling make.
"The wild deer hunted on the hill
Will seek its lair to die;

The wounded bird doth ever still

Turn to its nest; but I
Have other lot, and never back

My feet shall tread thy well-known track.
"Yet better were the mountain side,

The forest lone and cave,

With freedom's smile our steps to guide,
Than live in halls a slave!

To kneel to strangers, and to claim
Alliance with their hated name.
"Aye, let them come; thy roofless walls
Shall greet them in the sun-
Fit home for Saxons; but thy halls
Shall never shelter one.
O'Donell's birth-place, like his sword,
Must never know another lord!"

Thus spoke the chief, with haughty eye,
And lit the torches there,
And quick their flame caught rafter high,
Banner and dark oak stair;

And tower and roof, with sudden light,
Flash'd forth in brightness on the night!
Red blazed the pile, and far and wide
Illumed the country round-
The warder saw it at Dunbride,

The pilot in the sound,

And shunn'd the coast, and deem'd it made As signal of a Saxon raid.

Long gazed the chief, till wild and shrill

His bugles pour'd their strain,

Then back'd his horse, and o'er the hills
Departed with his train,

And ne'er returned; beyond the wave,
In far Cordova, lies his grave.

From

The history of Hugh O'Donell, surnamed "The Red" from a stain on his forehead, is replete with romantic interest. Entrapped at the age of sixteen by the English, by an artifice unworthy of the chivalrous character of Sir John Perrot, he passed many years of his youth in the Castle of Dublin as a prisoner, and, having twice made desperate attempts to escape, at last succeeded in doing so, through the agency of one of the under gaolers, who was attracted towards his youthful charge by their both speaking one common tongue— the Irish. Having left behind him the walls of his fated prison, the young mountaineer at once proceeded to the Dublin hills, to the Glen of Imale, the country of the hardy septs of O'Byrne and M'Tuathi), who, "hanging over (as the chronicler has it) the neck of the city," laughed to scorn the attempts of the English to subdue them in their rugged fastnesses. thence the fugitive proceeded, under circumstances of great difficulty, to the north of Ireland, where he was immediately elected chief of his powerful tribe, coalescing with Tyrone, Maguire, Tyrrel, and other native chieftains. He soon became one of the most formidable opponents the English pale had ever met with. Active, enterprising, and animated with the most determined hostility to the Saxons, victory for a long time crowned his efforts, until the battle of Kinsale, when, having disputed on the eve of the engagement with O'Neill, respecting the leading of the vanguard, (the only mistake, remarks the Rev. Cæsar Otway, he ever made,) a distrust crept in between their respective followers, which led to the fatal results of the following day. So mortified was O'Donell by that defeat, that for three days after, the Irish annalists say, he refused to eat or drink, overcome with emotions of shame and anger. Shortly after he sailed for Spain-a country always looked upon by the Irish as their fatherland-and, after struggling awhile with the feelings of disappointment and ruined hopes, died an exile, and was buried, I believe, at Valladolid.

WOOD PAVEMENT IN LONDON.-The whole of the immense thoroughfare, from Charing-cross to the Adelphi Theatre, is now in course of being paved with wood. The pine blocks selected for this portion of the road are of an octagonal shape, and very small, and apparently very durable. It has already been determined to pave Cheapside with wood, and when this is effected, no doubt the improvement will extend to Fleet-street. The line of road from Charing-cross to the Bank will then be complete. The whole line of Newgate-street is already paved. It is a singular fact, that although wood pavement is of so recent an origin, there are no less than nine different modes adopted of cutting the blocks; some are hectagon, some octagon, and some oblong. It is, of course, impossible to say yet which pattern forms the most durable road. We may boast now of the wooden streets of Old England as well as of her wooden walls.

AN INCIDENT.

In the year 1833 I had occasion to go to England on particular business. The vessel in which I went was crowded with passengers. Among the group I distinguished a tall, elderly gentleman, who seemed to be a military man leaning on his arm was a beautiful young girl; she seemed to be very ill, probably occasioned by the heaving of the vessel to and fro. A short distance from them stood a handsome young officer, engaged in conversation with an elderly lady, whom I afterwards learned was his mother. Not having any inclination to introduce myself to any one on board, I went to my berth, and was amusing myself by conning over the morning papers, when the following caught my eye:

"It is reported that Lieutenant A who is said to be very handsome, proposed for Miss M-, daughter of Colonel' M- ; in consequence of which, Major H- who, it is said, is in love with the young lady, challenged Lieu. tenant A to meet him or give up all idea of Miss M. and discontinue his visits; which proposal Lieut. A not wishing to comply with, the two gentlemen had an exchange of shots, which proved rather prejudicial to the major's nasal organs. This injury will be likely to ruin the gallant soldier in the estimation of the fair sex."-Morning Herald.

It immediately occurred to my mind, that Lieutenant A was the handsome young officer on deck, and that Miss M and her father were also passengers in the same vessel along with me. Being a little curious to know if I were right in my conjecture, I again went on deck, and endeavoured to enter into conversation with an old lady, whom I saw speaking to the young lady that first attracted my attention. Hearing her complain of being very ill, I immediately stepped forward, introducing myself as a medical man. At first she seemed surprised at my boldness; but, seeing me take out of my pocket a common restorative for all faint old ladies, she looked with more complacency on me, and thanked me for my kindness. The common topics of the day then ensued, when I found out, to my surprise, that she was an intimate acquaintance of my mother's in her youth, and that she was now going to England to spend the winter with Colonel M- and his only daughter.

"Pray," said I, "is not that Colonel Myonder?"

"It is," said she; " 'he is now going to see his sister, who is dying of consumption; she resides in Chatham, from whence he will join us as soon as possible; his daughter is very ill, which I fear in a great measure is owing to a duel fought between two officers who were deeply in love with her. One of them I was quite surprised to see when I came on board. I have since heard that he is going with his mother to England to an old aunt, who is very rich and about to make her will in favour of Lieutenant A- -, provided he stops with her while living. Some person or persons unknown have spread vile reports respecting the young officer, which I know to be untrue, and I Suspect Major H to be the propagator. Colonel M, notwithstanding my remonstrance, is determined not to sanction his visits to his daughter

any more.

Here we were interrupted by a loud cry—“A man over board."

Immediately running up to the side of the vessel, I perceived a man contending with the waves: one time he would appear for a minute; then again he would sink, struggling with all the efforts of a drowning man to support himself above water. He seemed to grow fainter and was sinking again, when, just at this critical juncture, a loud splash was heard in the water,

followed by the huzza of the sailors, when I perceived Lieutenant A, who was certainly one of the finest swimmers I have ever seen, with a rope in his mouth, making for the drowning man: immediately tying the rope to his own arm, he supported the face of the other above water, calling to the sailors to draw in. Both were taken upon deck, where every means was resorted to to recover the gentleman, whom I now perceived to be Colonel M- I ordered hot cloths to be applied, and that he be immediately taken to bed and kept as warm as possible. The next morning he was so much better as to be able to join us at breakfast, when, stepping up to the young officer, he shook him by the hand saying

"God bless you; you have saved an old man, and prevented my only daughter from being an orphan. I fear I have wronged you, but when we arrive on shore you can explain all."

It was about a month after the event which I have

related when I called to a large house in Regentstreet; I was shown into a splendidly furnished room, where I sat down amusing myself by looking over the periodicals of the day, until Miss Mentered, followed by her father, Colone M. Both received me most cordially, when I was given to understand, that in another week Lieut. A was to wed Miss M- -; that he had been shamefully spoken of by his enemy, Major H, who, annoyed that he should have a rival, did not scruple to tell the most barefaced lies of Lieutenant AI leave it to the reader's imagination to picture what a happy couple Lieutenant A and his young bride were in one short week. Nov. 1842.

P. H.

CANADIAN VOYAGEURS.-The dress of these people is generally half-civilised, half-savage. Their language is a French patois, embroidered with Indian and English words and phrases. The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild and extensive rovings in the service of individuals, but more especially of the fur traders. Never are they so happy as when on long and rough expeditions, toiling up rivers or coasting up lakes; encamping at night on the borders, gossiping round their fires, and bivouacking in the open air They are dexterous boatmen. The steersman often sings an old traditionary French song, with some regular burden in which they all join, keeping time with the oars. The Canadian waters are vocal with these little French chansons that have been echoed from mouth to mouth, and transmitted from father to son, from the earliest days of the colony. But we are telling of things that are fast fading away! The march of mechanical invention is driving everything poetical before it. The steam-boats, which are fast dispelling the wildness and romance of our lakes and rivers, and aiding to subdue the world into common-place, are proving as fatal to the race of Canadian voyageurs as they have been to that of the boatmen of the Mississippi. Their glory is departed: they are no longer the lords of our internal seas, and the great navigators of the wilderness. Some of them may still occasionally be seen coasting the lower lakes with their frail barks, and pitching their camps and lighting their fires upon the shores; but their range is fast contracting to those remote waters and shallow and obstructed rivers unvisited by the steam-boat. In the course of years they will gradually disappear; their songs will die away like the echoes they once awakened; and the Canadian royageurs will become a forgotten race, or remembered, like their associates the Indians, among the poetical images of past times, and as themes for local and romantic associations.Washington Irving's Astoria.

BURLESQUING THE IRISH.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE DUBLIN JOURNAL.

DEAR SIR-Will you just insert, for the edification of your readers, the following "good joke"! (as it is called by some of the London papers,) which is written by an Irishman? Will we never cease to raise a suicidal hand? Must Irishmen still caricature their character and their country? Certainly it may be well said " Tali auxilio nec defensoribus istis tempus eget!" Yours truly, EREGINA.

ICING CHAMPAGNE.

(From the last number of Lover's "Handy Andy.") Dick gave the necessary directions for icing the champagne, which he set apart, and pointed out most particularly to Andy, lest he should make a mistake, and, perchance, ice the port instead.

After Edward and Dick had gone, Andy commenced operations according to orders. He brought a large tub up stairs containing rough ice, which excited Andy's wonder, for he had never known till now that ice was preserved for and applied to such a use, for an ice-house did not happen to be attached to any

establishment in which he had served.

"Well, this is the quarest thing I ever heerd of," said Andy. "Musha! what outlandish inventions the quolity has among them. They're not contint with wine, but they must have ice along with it, and a tub, too!-just like pigs!-throth, it's a dirty thrick, I think. Well, here goes," said he; and Andy opened a bottle of champagne, and poured it into the tub with the ice. "How it fizzes," said Andy. Faix, it's almost as 'live as the sodawather that bothered me long ago. Well, I know more about things now; sure its wondherful how a man improves with practice!" and another bottle of champagne was emptied into the tub as he spoke. Thus, with several such complacent comments upon his own proficiency, Andy poured half-a-dozen of champagne into the tub of ice, and remarked, when he had finished his work, that he thought it would be "mighty cowld on their stomachs." The discovery of Andy's blunder is thus related:

Dinner was announced by Andy; and, with good appetite, soup and fish were soon dispatched; sherry followed, as a matter of necessity. The second course appeared, and was not long under discussion when Dick called for the "champagne."

Andy began to drag the tub towards the table; and Dick, impatient of delay, again called "champagne."

at the tub.

I'm bringin' it to you, sir," said Andy, tugging "Hand it round the table;" but, finding he could not manage it, he whispered Dick, "I can't get it up, sir."

Dick fancying Andy meant he had got a flask not in a sufficient state of effervescence to expel its own cork, whispered in return, " Draw it, then." "I was drawin' it to you, sir, when you stopped

me."

66

Well, make haste with it," said Dick.

"Mister Dawson, I'll trouble you for small piece of the turkey," said the colonel.

"With pleasure, colonel; but first do me the honour to take champagne. Andy, champagne!" "Here it is, sir!" said Andy, who had drawn the tub close to Dick's chair.

"Where's the wine, sir?" said Dick, looking first at the tub and then at Andy.

"There, sir," said Andy, pointing down to the ice; "I put the wine into it as you towld me."

Dick looked again at the tub, and said, "There is

not a bottle there. What do you mean, you stupid rascal?"

"To be sure there's no bottle there, sir. The bottles are all on the side-boord; but every drop o' the wine is in the ice, as you towld me, sir; if you put your hand into it, you'll feel it, sir !”''

There are some

SALT MINES. The most extensive deposition of rock-salt in the world is found at Wielitska, near Cracow, in Poland. It has been worked as a mine since the year 1251, and its excavations are said to extend more than a league from east to west; the salt produced being of an iron-grey colour, in which are enclosed cubes of a pure white. After being let down by a rope for 230 feet, the visitor is led through galleries perfectly dry, and of considerable height and breadth, until he arrives at two chapels composed entirely of salt, and hewn out of the solid mass. Images, as well as pillars and ornaments of the same material, adorn the place, and reflect the rays of light issuing from the lamps of the guides, producing a beautiful and novel appearance. Descending lower by ladders, the visitor finds himself in an immense hall or cavern of salt cut with great regu larity, and many hundred feet in length. A thouand when illuminated by flambeaux, its splendour is sand persons might dine in it without inconvenience; not inferior to that of a palace hall. extensive beds of rock-salt in England; two found in Cheshire are known to extend a mile and a-half north-east and south-west, and upwards of threequarters of a mile in width. The mines are worked by galleries, masses of salt being left as pillars to support the roof. When illuminated by candles, numerously fixed on the sides, the effect produced is Of the Cheshire mines, many exceedingly brilliant. yield 16,000 tons of salt per annum for home consumption, and 140,000 tons are annually exported from Liverpool. Salt is also obtained in England from brine springs, the chief of which are situated at Droitwitch, in Worcestershire. They are four in number, all situated within a square furlong, and seem to issue from a bed of rock-salt. The quantity of brine rising from these pits is immense; and although that which is used bears but a small proportion to that which runs to waste, nevertheless the quantity of salt annually made from these four pits. or springs, is about 16,000 tons, two-thirds of which are consamed in England. The brine is perfectly limpid, and contains about one-third its weight of salt, which is separated from it by evaporating pro

cesses.

IMPORTANCE OF PRINCIPLE.-Whatever station in society we fill-whatever be our employment— called or whatever hopes, expectations, or desires whatever the character we sustain-by whatever name animate our bosoms-if not guided by principle, we shall not perform our parts so as to please our friends, (if we have any,) or to insure satisfaction to ourselves when we come to die. It follows, then, that the man of business should be a man of principle-the man who can live without businsss should be a man of principle-the man who rolls in affluence, and the man who labours hard for his subsistence, should alike be men of principle--the politician should be a man of principle-and last, but far from least, the man who professes to be a Christian, should be signally distinguished among his fellow men as a man of principle.

PARISIAN DIAMONDS.-Those beautiful imitations of the "priceless gem," which have lately attracted so much attention, are made by a chemist in Paris, and are only the oxide of tin. It is to be regretted that the brilliancy which has rendered this imitation so famous cannot be depended upon, as, after exposure for some time, they become as dull as common glass. Mining Journal.

ANGLO-SAXON ROMANCES.

The romances of the Anglo-Saxons hold historically the same place in literature which belongs to the Iliad or the Odyssey. Their subjects were either exclusively mythological or historical facts, which, in their passage by tradition from age to age, had taken a mythic form. Beowulf himself is, probably, little more than a fabulous personage-another Hercules destroying monsters of every description, natural or supernatural, nicors, ogres, grendels, dragons. No weak or selfish feelings ever interfere with his straight course of heroic probity. Courage, generosity, and fidelity are his virtues. The coward, the niggard, and the traitor, whenever they are mentioned, are spoken of with strong marks of abhorrence. The weaker sex, though it has scarcely any share in the action, is always treated with extreme delicacy and respect. The plot of the poem is at once simple and bold. Among the other romances, that of Finn had for its subject the mutual injury of two hostile tribes, and acts of vengeance repeated until the one was vanquished and became dependant on the other. Sometimes the ladies stand forth as more active and powerful agents. Thus the romance of Offa was founded on the marriage of a king with a woodnymph, and the hatred with which she was regarded by his mother-a story frequently reproduced in the romances of the thirteenth century. The old German romance of the Niebelungen has for its subject the disastrous consequences which arose out of the vanity and petulance of two royal dames. The subject of that of Waltharius, preserved to us only in a Latin dress, is the escape of a prince and his affianced bride from the court of the Huns, where they had been detained as hostages.

We not only trace the preservation of these romances down to a comparatively late period, but we can diseover marks of their continued influence in various ways. From time to time we detect them interweaving themselves with the graver recitals of the historian. As the Saxons became in course of time more and more firmly settled in, and identified with Britain, their recollections of their old country became continually less vivid, the traditions connected with it less definite, and they bagan to forget the meaning of many of the old legends, although they were still punctually handed down from father to son. In ages like those of which we are now speaking -indeed more or less in all ages the popular mind ever connects its iraditions with some object which is constantly before the eye, and thus the old romances were associated with new places. A particular tribe who had brought with them some ancient legend, the real scene of which lay upon the shores of the Baltic, after they had been settled for a time in England, began to look upon it as a story connected only with the spot where they now dwelt, and to perpetuate the error by giving the name of its hero to some object in their vicinity. Thus came such names as Grimesby in Lincolnshire, Wade's Castle in the North, which took their names, one from Havelok's supposed foster-father, the other from a Saxon or northern hero, whose legend appears at present to be lost, although it was still preserved little more than two centuries ago. Thus, too, the legend of Weland was located in Berkshire. It was in this way that the Ongles, or Angles, settled at an earlier period near Sleswic, became by degrees confounded with the East-Angles in England; and thus the romance of Offa, one of the ancient Angle princes or "heroes," was, under the hand of the historian Matthew Paris, transformed into a life of Offa, King of the Angles in our island. Some such process seems to have produced the modern romance of Havelok, that of King Atla, still preserved in AngloNorman and Latin, though in either form inedited,

and perhaps all the other Anglo-Norman romances which form the sycle commonly attributed to the period of the Danish invasions, such as Guy of Warwick, Bevis of Hampton, and King Horn. In older family romance mixed up with the life of an historical personage. Such, no doubt, was the origin of the history of Hereward's younger days, which his biographer acknowledges to be taken from what appears to have been a poem written by Leofric of Bourne; and there are several incidents in it which are most remarkably similar to some parts of the romance of Horn, just mentioned. These were not the most humiliating transformations to which, in the course of ages, the Anglo-Saxon romances were condemned: as they had been originally formed in the childhood of nations, so at a later petiod they re-appeared in the form of chap-books and ballads for the amusement of children; and it is more than probable that the great god Thor, the never-ceasing enemy of the Giants of the old Teutonic mythology, has degenerated in, that popular but no less remarkable hero of the nursery, the famous Jack-the Giant Killer, the all-powerful hammer and the girdle of strength of the god having been replaced by the equally efficient sword of sharpness and the cap of invisibility.-Wright's Biography.

more than one instance we find the events of some

MAKING WINES IN THE IONIAN ISLANDS.-The grapes are gathered by women and children, and carried in baskets to the press. If the grapes are black, and the skins thick, as they usually are, they are allowed to remain heaped together six or seven days to soften; they are next subjected to the pressure of the feet of men, and next to the powerful pressure of a screw. The must obtained is fermented for a few days, with the addition of about a fourth of the husks of the black grape, to heighten the colour. It is then drawn off, and allowed to remain and complete its fermentation in casks. In the instance of white grapes, their skins being sufficiently tender, they do not require to be further softened, and they are subjected to the press without delay. Often, and most commonly, the black and white are mixed; this process is followed in Zante. It is much the same in the other islands; the variations are inconsiderable. The best wines of the Ionian Islands are those of

Ithaca and Cephalonia, and of the hilly and mountainous parts of Zante. In these islands hitherto little or no encouragement has been given to the making of good wine; quantity is attended to rather than quality- -a rapid sale, rather than a just remunerating profit. Much of the wine that is sold is cheaper than small beer; much of it is sold quite new little of it is kept a year; none is exported, except from one island to another. There are no capitalistsno regular wine merchants; each proprietor is his own merchant; his cellar is commonly the groundfloor of his town house; having little room-no apparatus-apprehensive that the wine will spoil if kepthe sells it as soon as possible, either by wholesale or retail. If the former, the doors of the cellar are thrown open-two or three forms are provided-and a flag of white paper, or of paper stained red, according to the quality of the wine, is hung out on a stick. Should the wine be approved, the cellar is crowded with customers, and suddenly becomes a scene of merriment, uproar, and gambling-filled with people talking loud, singing, or playing at cards, or the noisy, vulgar, and classical game of Moro, the micare cum digitis of the Romans.-Davy's History.

AMBER. A discovery is said to have been made in the neighbourhood of Zehdenik, near Potsdam, on the Havel, of a rich mine of yellow amber, of hardness equal to rock crystal.

TEMPERATURE OF THE HUMAN BODY. In all climates, in the temperate zones, as well as at the equator or the poles, the temperature of the body in man, and in what are commonly called warmblooded animals, is invariably the same; yet how different are the circumstances under which they live? The animal body is a heated mass, which bears the same relation to surrounding objects as any other heated mass. It receives heat when the surrounding objects are hotter; it loses heat when they are colder than itself. We know that the rapidity of cooling increases with the difference between the temperature of the heated body and that of the surrounding medium; that is, the colder the surrounding medium, the shorter the time required for the cooling the heated body. How unequal, then, must be the loss of heat in a man of Palermo, where the external temperature is nearly equal to that of the body, and in the polar regions, where the external temperature is from 70° to 90° lower. Yet, notwithstanding this extremely unequal loss of heat, experience has shown that the blood of the inhabitant of the Arctic circle has a temperature as high as that of the native of the south, who lives in so different a medium. This fact, when its true significance is perceived, proves that the heat given off to the surrounding medium is restored within the body with great rapidity. This compensation takes place more rapidly in winter than in summer, at the pole than at the equator. In the animal body the food is the fuel; with a proper supply of oxygen we obtain the heat given out during its oxidation or combustion. In winter, when we take exercise in a cold atmosphere, and when, consequently, the amount of inspired oxygen increases the necessity for food containing carbon and hydrogen increases in the same ratio; and, by gratifying the appetite thus excited, we obtain the most efficient protection against the most piercing cold. A starv ing man is soon frozen to death; and every one knows that the animals of prey in the Arctic regions far exceed in voracity those of the torrid zone. Our clothing is merely equivalent for a certain amount of food. The more warmly we are clothed, the less urgent becomes the appetite for food, because the loss of heat by cooling, and consequently the amount of heat to be supplied by the food, is diminished. If we were to go naked, like certain savage tribes, or if in hunting or fishing we were exposed to the same degree of cold as the Samoyedes, we should be able with ease to consume 10lbs of flesh, and, perhaps, a dozen of tallow candles into the bargain, daily, as warmly clad travellers have related with astonishment of these people. We should then, also, be able to take the same quantity of brandy or train-oil without bad effects, because the carbon and hydrogen of these substances would only suffice to keep up the equilibrium between the external temperature and that of our bodies.—Leibig's Animal Chemistry.

WILD FLOWERS.-One characteristic of our native plants we must mention, that if we miss in them something of the gorgeousness and lustre of more tropical flowers, we are more than compensated by the delicacy and variety of their perfume; and just as our woods, vocal with the nightingale, the blackbird, and the thrush, can well spare the gaudy feathers of the macaw, so we can consign the oncidiums, the cactuses, and the ipomaas of tropics, for the delicious fragrance of our wild banks of violets, our lilies-of-the-valley, and our woodbine, or even for the passing whiff of a hawthorn bush, a clover or bean field, or a gorse-common.-Quarterly Review.

POPULATION OF PARIS.-According to the census of 1841, the population of Paris amounted to 912,330; and if the troops of the garrison and strangers are added, to 1,035,000.

AGRICULTURAL IMPROVEMENT. The Marquess of Waterford has about forty thousand acres of land in the county of Derry, on which there are about eight hundred tenants; but until this season there had not been any thing done by them in the way of draining their land on any regular system. By the advice and encouragement held out to them by Mr. Beresford, agent to thet noble Marquess, upwards of sixty of the tenants have been, and are, thorough draining on Mr. Smith of Deanston's system, and have already completed upwards of 16,000 perches (5 yards each) of drains, all filled with broken stones: ere long every tenant on this estate will "do likewise," having suffered much from wet for the last five or six years. Messrs. Drummond have furnished the estate with sixty full sets of draining tools, with subsoil and furrow ploughs, of which Mr. M‘Leish, the Marquess of Waterford's land steward, speaks in the highest terms.

HOT WIND OF THE DESERT.-In central Africa, in Libya, in Syria, and in Arabia, where the soil is covered with thick stratum of loose sand, and where the sun's rays are very powerful, the wind is often absolutely insupportable. At such time it is called simoom, or the "poison-wind," by the Arabs; and khamsin by the Syrians, from a word expressive of the period during which it prevails, viz., at the equinoxes. When this wind is about commencing, the atmosphere takes an unquiet aspect; the sky becomes overcast, the sun looses his brilliancy; the air is not cloudy, properly speaking, but is loaded with small gritty particles, which penetrate everything. At first the wind is not very hot; but, as its duration continues, the temperature rises. Respiration becomes short and difficult, the skin becomes dry, and the body seems consuming by a scorching heat. All objects are alike heated; iron, stone, even water, fail to yield any cooling effect. The inhabitants of towns and villages shut themselves up in the houses, while those in the open desert take refuge in their tents, or in pits dug in the ground. Miserable is the state of those travellers who are surprised by such a wind at a distance from any asylum! They feel the full effects, which frequently end in death. When the hot blast is passing rapidly, the heat is so increased as to take away life almost instantaneously. This death is a true suffocation; the lungs, respiring in a kind of vacuum, enter into convulsion; the circulation becomes disturbed in the vessels; the blood flies from the heart to the head or the chest ; and hence ensues hæmorrhage at the nose and mouth after death. This wind attacks especially men of a full habit of body, and also those whose muscles are weakened by fatigue. The only mode of checking these violent effects is to cover the mouth and nose with a handkerchief; the camels bury their mouths and noses in the sand, and there keep them till the violence of the blast is abated. Another quality of this wind is its extreme dryness. If water is thrown on the floor of an apartment, it is evaporated immediately; and, by the extreme dryness of the air, plants become shrivelled up and reduced to fragments. This thirst of the air for moisture, so to speak, increases the effect of the wind on the animal frame, by evaporating too rapidly the perspiration exuding at the pores. These hot winds are always found to occur in countries where deserts abound, and where the air, meeting neither with brooks, nor lakes, nor forests, becomes heated by the action of a nearly vertical sun, and by reflection from the sandy soil. When from any atmospheri cause, this mass of air is set in motion, the phenomenon of the hot wind ensues, and particles scorching sand are wafted along with the wind itself.-Knight's Mag.