gies of the nation who endeavoured to preserve the memory of their kings and ancestors by means of such rude and lasting monuments. Hitherto, indeed, they appear to have escaped the destroying hand of conquerors; but the time and means at our disposal would not allow of our making any attempt to penetrate into the interior of any of these royal sepulchres; an undertaking, however, which would probably richly reward the speculator or the antiquary." CARBONIC ACID SNOW. MR. Buckingham says, in his work on America:-I had an opportunity of attending one of the chemical classes of my friend Dr. Mitchell, and witnessing there a most interesting experiment, for the rendering carbonic acid gas solid, and for producing by it a degree of cold, extending to 102 below zero, on the scale of Fahrenheit's thermometer. The materials, first confined in a strong iron receiver, were, super-carbonate of soda and sulphuric acid, in separate divisions: the whole was then powerfully shaken, so as to be well mixed or incorporated; and this operation continually evolved the gas, till the whole vessel was filled with it in a highly condensed state. An instrument, not unlike a common tinder-box, as it is used in England, but about twice the size, and with a small tube of inlet passing through its sides, was then fixed by this tube to a pipe from the receiver. The inside of this box was so constructed as to make the gas injected into it, fly round in a series of constantly contracting circles, which was effected by projected pieces of tin at different angles, fastened around the sides of the interior. The gas being then let out by a valve, entered this box from the receiver, making as loud a hissing noise as the escape of steam by the safety valve of a large boiler, and in about three or four seconds the emission of the gas was stopped. The box was then taken off from the receiver, and its cover opened, when it was found to be filled with a milk-white substance, in appearance like snow, but in consistence like a highly wrought froth, approaching to a light paste. It was surrounded with a thin blue vapour like smoke, and was so intensely cold, that the sensation of touch to the fingers was like that of burning; and the feeling was more like that of heat than cold. The slightest particle of it, dropped on the back of the hand, and if suffered to remain there, occasioned a blistering of the skin, just like a scald; and some of the students of the class who attempted to hold it in their fingers, were obliged to let it drop as if it were red-hot iron. Some liquid mercury, or quicksilver, was then dropped into a mass of this "carbonic acid snow," as it was called, mixed with ether, upon which it instantly froze, and being taken out in a solid mass, it was found to be malleable into thin sheets under the hammer, and capable of being cut up like lead, with a knife or large scissors. As it became less cold it grew more brittle, and then when pressed strongly with the thumb or finger against a solid substance, it was found to burst under the pressure, with a report or explosion like the percussion powder. A small piece of this carbonic acid snow was placed on the surface of water, where it ran round by an apparently spontaneous motion, and gave out a thin blue vapour like smoke. Another piece was placed under the water, and kept beneath it, when it emitted gas in an immense stream of air-bubbles, rushing from the bottom to the top, then returning, in short, from its solid to its original gaseous condition. Some of the snow was then mingled with the well-known "freezingmixture," and by stirring these both together, a degree of intense cold was produced, extending to 102° below zero, and there remaining for a period of ten or fifteen minutes; though the weather was extremely hot, the thermometer standing at 94° in the shade, in the coolest parts of Philadelphia, and being at least 90° in the lecture room itself. The practical application of this discovery to the propelling of engines, in lieu of steam, was then exhibited to us. A model of an engine of the ordinary kind now in use for mines, manufactories, and steam ships, was placed on the table before the lecturer. A metal tube was then screwed on to the pipe and valve of the receiver, in which the condensed carbonic acid gas was contained, and the other end of the tube through which the gas was to escape, when let into it from the receiver, was applied to the wheel of the model engine; the gas was then let out, and the rushing torrent of it was such as that it propelled the engine-wheel with a velocity which 14 GODLY SORROW AT THE CROSS. rendered its revolutions invisible, from their speed, making the wheel appear stationary, though in a trembling or vibratory condition, and rendering all perception of the parts of the wheel quite impossible till the gaseous stream which gave the impetus was withdrawn. GODLY SORROW AT THE CROSS. THE prophet Zechariah speaks of a time when the children of Israel, although cast off from God on account of their rejection of Christ, shall be reinstated in his favour. This restoration shall be effected through Him whom their fathers "had taken, and by wicked hands had crucified and slain." Very different shall be the emotions with which a suffering Messiah will be contemplated by the Jews of whom the prophet speaks, from those which possessed the hearts of the men who compelled Pilate to deliver the "Lord of glory" unto the Ideath of the cross. "I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn," Zech. xii. 10. May that time speedily come, and the good olive tree again bear its natural branches! "Oh that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion! When the Lord bringeth back the captivity of his people, Jacob shall rejoice, and Israel shall be glad," Psa. xiv. 7. That which, in the prediction of Zechariah, it is declared shall be done by the awakened and enlightened children of Jacob, will be the line of conduct pursued by all, who, having received "the spirit of grace and supplications," with unveiled countenance, contemplate a crucified Redeemer. When convictions of sin are produced, and the burden of guilt is felt to be intolerable, and when as we lie in the dust, overwhelmed with many fears, the voice of the Saviour is heard exclaiming, "Look unto me, and be ye saved," Isa. xlv. 11: "I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins," Isa. xliii. 25. Affecting is the scene that presents itself to the eye, and mingled are the emotions that rush through the soul, as, lifted up on the cross, a spectacle to angels and men, we behold Him "whom we have pierced," "the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world," John i. 29. It is a solemn truth, although we may endeavour to evade the force of it, that we are parties to the crucifixion of the Son of God. True it is, that, centuries before we entered into existence, the murder of Christ on the cross was completed, and that personally we were not engaged in this infamous transaction; but it was on our account He endured all the ignominy the anguish, the woe. It is not Isaiah alone who has occasion, as he looks around upon his brethren and contemporaries, to exclaim, “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed," Isa. liii. 5. These are the sorrowful acknowledgments of every illuminated mind; and the successive generations of men, as the startling events of Calvary unfold themselves to their attention and affect their hearts, will all cry, "Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows." Now, it is this individual realization of a Saviour crucified for us, that most deeply and powerfully operates upon the mind. In the announcement that Christ died "the Just for the unjust," there is a solemn and affecting truth; but it does not come home so mightily, like an arrow fixing itself in the heart, as when the sinner is constrained to acknowledge in the language of Paul-he "loved me, and gave himself for me," Gal. ii. 20. Then the sight of the cross produces very different emotions from those with which it was formerly contemplated. The soul mourns in the dust, exclaiming, "Alas! and did my Saviour bleed? And did my Sovereign die? Would he devote that sacred head For such a worm as I? "Was it for crimes that I had done, He groan'd upon the tree? Amazing pity! grace unknown! And love beyond degree!" This was the state of mind among many of the Jews on the very day of the Saviour's death. Luke tells us, ch. xxiii. 48, "And all the people that came together to that sight, beholding the things which were done, smote their breasts, and returned." And thus it was when Peter had charged the Jews at Jerusalem with the crucifixion of him who was "both Lord and Christ," "when they heard this, they were pricked in their heart," Acts ii. 37. The emotion that will be awakened, is represented by the prophet as like that which is felt by one "who mourneth for his only son, and is in bitterness for his firstborn." Now, no anguish can be conceived more poignant than that which is felt when a child, upon whom has been lavished the first warm affections of parental tenderness, is snatched from the bosom that pillowed it, and laid in the dust. When its infantile endearments are withdrawn for ever, and its rosy smile, that was as sunshine to the heart, no more welcomes the authors of its existence, then is drunk the bitterest cup which this life presents to the children of men. Sorrow, grievous as this, will take possession of the awakened sinner. His grief and anguish will arise from two causes: The contemplation of the sufferings of one who was perfectly innocent, with the knowledge that they were endured on his account; and the conviction of the enormity of sin, which rendered necessary an expiation of so costly a nature. Is it possible to gaze on that pallid brow, with its wreath of thorns, which men in impious mockery have placed there; to hear the exclamation of agony from the lips of the Sufferer, as he feels himself forsaken not only by man, but by God; to see him, under an accumulated weight of woe that oppressed and bowed his soul unto death, give up the ghost; and to be conscious that he knew no sin, but was treated as a sinner on our account; is it possible for us to contemplate-to feel all this, without melting into tears at the foot of the cross; and while we rejoice at the display of his ineffable compassion, and adore his boundless and unfathomed love," mourn that we pierced the Lord?" Proud spirits that have dared the thunders of Sinai, and who, in fearful hardness of heart, have ventured to trifle with "the pains of hell," have paused in their scornful career as Calvary opened to their view; and what the fear of "the wrath to come" has failed to do, the love of a dying Saviour has triumphantly accomplished; so that many, to whom spiritual things never before presented any attractions, have said, when the wondrous scenes of the cross were unfolded, | ormity of sin, which a sight of the cross awakens, will produce godly sorrow in the heart of an aroused and enlightened man. Previous to this, he was accustomed to regard the stern estimate which Christians formed of it, as the evidence of a desire to be "righteous overmuch," and of habitual gloominess with reference to eternal things. But since sin has been regarded in the light of the cross, his ideas have undergone a mighty change. That can never be regarded as a trifling thing either by God or man that issues in a catastrophe so tremendous. "Jesus, who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God," would never have "made himself of no reputation, and taken upon him the form of a servant," and voluntarily submitted "unto death, even the death of the cross," with all its ignominy and utterable woe, if sin were not, in the estimation of a holy and righteous God, an infinite evil. When this evil thing is thus contemplated, like the patriarch of Uz, the awakened sinner cries, "I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes," Job xlii. 6. "Oh, if my heart were form'd for woe, Oh, how I hate those lusts of mine Now, this murmuring, believing sorrow, this godly repentance, to which the Holy Spirit has brought the sinner, will lead to the renunciation of sin, and the acceptance of the Saviour. Sin will be hated, not only on account of its own loathsomeness, and because of the fatal consequences to which it is likely to lead, but on account of the affecting scenes to which it leads-the garden, the cross, and the grave. Reader! have you ever experienced this godly grief? Has the love unto death of the Incarnate One melted your heart? Have you seen Jesus, and bewailed your guilt? Perhaps you feel that you are a sinner, and perceive something of the amazing love of Christ, and know that there are many and mighty reasons why you should hate and renounce sin. Have you done so? You may have wept for your transgressions; but have you turned from them? You may have shed many tears at the sight of the cross of a dying and compassionate But a deep-seated conviction of the en- Saviour; but have you resolved there to "Here I would for ever stay, 16 THE OLD IRISH SAILING PACKET. "crucify the flesh with the affections and God," John iii. 4. This is the work of lusts?" for Cry "Drops of grief will ne'er repay The debt of love we owe:" "Here, Lord, I give myself away, 'Tis all that I can do." Yet some there are who would shut their eyes to this wondrous sight. They wish not to "look upon Him whom they have pierced." The cross is to them a stumbling-block, although in a manner different from what it was to the Jews. They see not, understand not that there "God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself." They perceive not that "He was the propitiation for the sins of the whole world," and consequently died for them. Their admiration has never been excited by the wondrous display of the transcendent wisdom and goodness of God that is there made to man; they have never beheld the glorious light in which all the illustrious perfections of Deity are there emblazoned; nor sat as humble disciples around that spot, where, as they look into the manifold mysteries of the plan of redemption, "A thousand angels learn His name, The " man of sorrows has won from them no sympathy; and, if they do not, like the Jews, "esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted," they "hide their faces from him." How is this? They do not realize their participation in the Saviour's death, do not perceive that they, by their sins, "crucified the Son of God; "do not believe that they are guilty; repudiate with indignation being included in the same class with the "chief of sinners; and so, laying the flattering unction to their souls, think that the cross and the plan of salvation are matters with which they have nothing to do. But what saith the Scripture? "All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God," Rom. iii. 23. Then all need a Saviour: the want is universal-so is the invitation. "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth," Isa. xlv. 22. Equally true is it that through Jesus alone is the Father propitiated, or heaven entered. "No man cometh unto the Father but by me," John xiv. 6. The heart, too, must be changed. Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 66 the Spirit; but he is sent in answer to the pleading sacrifice of Christ. Are not all then interested in Jesus? Should not all look to him? Men may refuse to "behold the Lamb of God;" millions have died refusing. And yet they must see him-meet him. Let every one inclined to turn away from the Saviour, now ponder the words of the beloved disciple, "Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him,' Rev. i. 7. Reader, shall you "wail because of him?" Look now and "mourn;" and "when Christ shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory," Col. iii. 4. T. A. THE OLD IRISH SAILING PACKET. trader, schooner or sloop; the cabin, of THIS vessel, says Mrs. Hall, was a small very limited extent, was lined with berths, a curtain portioned off those that were appropriated to ladies; in the centre was dinner being a rare event, each passenger a table, seldom used, the formality of a having laid in his own supply of sea store, to which he resorted when hungered or athirst, finding, however, very often, when his appetite returned, that his basket had been impoverished by the visits of unscrupulous voyagers who were proof against sea-sickness. The steward was almost invariably an awkward boy, whose only recommendation was the activity with which he answered the calls of unhappy sufferers, and the voyage across was a kind of purgatory for the time being, to be endured only in cases of absolute necessity. It was not alone the miserable paucity of accommodation and utter indifference to the comfort of the passengers, that made the voyage an intolerable evil; though it usually occupied but three or four days, frequently as many weeks were expended in making it. It was once our lot to pass a month between the ports of Bristol and Cork, putting back every now and then, to the wretched village of Pill, and not daring to leave it for an hour, lest the wind should change, and the packet weigh anchor. But with us it was holiday time, and our case was far less dismal than that of an officer, to whom we recently related it, his two months' leave of absence had expired the very day he reached his Irish home. CHARLES II. was not restored to the throne of his ancestors by his own efforts or abilities. The greater part of the nation, or, at least, the more active portion, desired this change, or were led to support the proceedings of his partizans. Many were wearied of the changes resulting from the conflicts of party, and disgusted by the numerous promises that had not been realized by any of those who successively held the government. The character of Charles was sufficiently as certained to cause apprehensions in the minds of some reflecting persons; but the greater part allowed themselves to be carried away by the tumultuary joy of the royalists. No conditions were made, nor was any plan brought forward, by which the nation might be profited from the painful experience of the last twenty years. One little circumstance may be mentioned, as showing the determination to return to ancient usages, however objectionable. As early as July 5th, the superstitious custom was resumed, of the king touching those afflicted with the disease called king's evil, in the belief that they would thereby be cured, while a chaplain read a service in which these words were blasphemously applied, "He put his hands upon them, and he healed them." This mummery had been continued from the days of Popery; but patients would long before have failed, had not part of the ceremony been the presenting to each a small gold coin. He was a The king, it is true, saw that he must be careful in his measures, and probably designed to be so, but the pressure of business soon wearied him. thoroughly unprincipled, indolent debauchee. The good abilities he naturally possessed were of no avail among the temptations, and under the advice of his libertine companions. His exile had, however, firmly impressed upon his mind the necessity for avoiding such a line of conduct, or, rather, such a degree of it, as would provoke the open resistance of the nation; as for the rest, he cared for nothing but his own selfish enjoyments; and to preserve his place on the throne was necessarily requisite to this end. Such a character was utterly devoid of religious principle, and inclined to the easy doctrines of Popery. His support of the church system established in England did not proceed from a conscientious regard to it, like that to which his father had become a martyr, but only C |