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CONDUOTSD BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CEAMBEIM, EDITORS OF ' U E A ~ W S B INFORMATION POR TIW PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERB'B mUCATIONAL COORBE,' &a

No. 327. NEW SPRIBB. SATURDAY,

W H A T IS THE OP WEEN Bentham compared pushpin with poetry, and gave in some sort the preference to the former, the lierely awakened much indignation among the tuneful tribe, and even reflected rome obloquy upon the system of utilitarianism thus violently divorced from taste. The controversy wbich ensued war not very satisfac- tory. The poets did not condemn the principle of utilitarianism-'the greatest happinell of the greatert number;' but they reproved the sordid materialism which limited happinesr to tbe objects of sense, and ridiculed the notion of estimating the value of a thing by 'what it would fetch.' They quoted Ariatotle to show thnt poetry is a still more philosophical and ex- cellent thing than history itself; Bacon, ar well ar several ancient writers, that it har ' some participation of divinenesa;' Feltham, that ' a grave poem is the

,deepest kind of writing;' Augustus Schlegel, mying of an individual poet (Shakepeare), that the world of npirib and nature had laid their t r e ~ u r e r a t hh feet- that he was in strength a demi-god, in profundity of viewa prophet, in dl-seeing widom a protecting spirit; and Coleridge, that poetry had been to him its own exceeding great reward, soothing his afictionl, multi- plying and reflning his enjoyments, endearing solitude, and giving him the habit of trying to discover the good and the beautiful in everything around him.

All thi8, it will be wen by reflecting pemons, had little or nothing to do with the argument. If utili- tarianiam, admitted to be true, dwpiaa poetry, poetry must be false. It is no defence of poetry to say that it is divine, and the delight and solace of divine natures ; for the object of utilitnrianbm is not happiness, but the happineal of the grealut number. I t is no refutation of Bentham to laugh a t the rival he mtr up in opposi- tion to poetry; for there cnnnot be a doubt that, of the two, tbe game of pushpin is by far the more generally plepsing aa well u intelligible. I t would be more to the purpooe, we think, to inquire whetber Bentham's reach of mind enabled him to see to the end of his own aystem-whether utilitarianism, considered ar a true ~ i euce , really looh upon poetry as a thing of flctitious nature, or in merely upp posed to do so through the mistake or corntitutional defect of the great philwopher. We owe no obedience, be i t oberved, to the sayinga of Benthem because they are his ; but became they are true. PI&, we are told, preferred poetry in its roftiest character to every other human art, and yet Plato banished poetry from his model commonwealth.+ The reason of this meming inconsistency is, that in the time

* %led by Felthun, who mppmea tliat the philampher in- - * bspmo.lption ta only to the - or -er brd of w

APRIL 6, 1850. PRICE 1g.

of Plate, and long before, poetry w u the mother of fable and laperstition, and a practical mirl* of the young and ignorant, who formed the maw of the nation. He, u well u Socrateit, were of tima free npiritr who looked through the mythic framework of religion, and despieed, more than they durrt avow, the faith of the vulgar. Bentham, on the other hand, lived under quite a ditTe- rent diapernation; and if poetry be a true thing, he can only have rejected it from a deficiency in tl~ore finer faculties which would have enabled him to appre- ciate its importance, and perceive i k eswntial connec- tion with his own science.

If the present were the thal age of the world, and society had reached its culminating point, i t would be very proper to place poetry low down in a system which #ought the greateat happinela of the greatat number. I t would be mere w ~ t e of time to preach of tlie dirine- ness of poetry to an audience ninety-nine hundredths of whom were for ever incapable of rising beyond the en- joyments of senre. But the philosophy in qumtiou in emphatically the philmphy of progress. I t ia baaed upon the natural expan~iveness of the human mind ; and its object ia to confer general happiness by means of general knowledge and enlightenment. Now if poetry is confeasedy the mlace and delight of superior spirib, of thole spirits which are to be looked upon ar modeln by the multitude, so far from being thrown aside M of slight utility in a echeme of progress, it muat be lighted up M a beacon to invite and guide. In its higher es- sence it may be unattainable by the vulgar, but every step towarda it u an advance. Thus many of the in- junctions of Christianity are impossibilities to human nature in its prerent stage of development; but it ia our duty, notwithstanding, to presa forward towards the mark of that high calling, and thu8 play worthily our parts in the great procwsion of being in which oar individual existence is lost, but yet to which i t ir na- moary.

Thi8 points to a mistake which is not conflned to the harder naturer among the economists. Education is commonly regarded merely an a means of amwing 8nch facta ar are h p t c d to the present constitution of our minds; while knowledge-which, building up the mato- rials of hfonnation, looks from them, as from a tower, into the region beyond-is practically overlooked. This is u if we thought the p h y d d world w u confined to the aphere commanded by our vision, and never dreamed of any further earthly inheritance But the science8 that minister to our comfort and sensuous enjoyment, that store our mind with curious and inkreding facts, and open out to us the wooden of external nature, ue all subordinate to the rciewe of mind. They are merely the informstion which wwea aa the groundwork of knowledge. They are the education of our spiritcl, by mean# of which we advmce to a loftier atege or being.

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A b marci-

mn rhUa Is with myriadr of new r e r e d r, rcal rreflnement and

CHAMBEMI

history of varioru other regions both of the eastern and weatern world, and more especially among the Chinese, the farthert advanced of the peopb of the Eas t ThM connection may b accounted for by ruppwing that, up to s certain point in re5ement and civilination, the individruls who cultivated the expression of poeti- cal feeling ea a calling would be more likely than con- mon men to have recourse to mechanical rtimu- lantr of the imagination. The conjecture ir the more probable from the fact, that the weakness in question h u beset only poets of an inferior grade, while the ma&w spirits, with hardly an exception, have h t e d to their own genius and its purer inrpirationr.

To decry the sacred thirst of poetry ir unphiio- sophicd, becnuse it is vain. I t is an instinct of man's nature, and man will reek to indulge it in one way or other, whether by wholerome or unwholesome, whether by legitimate or illegitimate rneanr But being mcred, to deny it is profane ; and being a passion of noble natures, it is worthy of encouragement in all. Do not rappose that its tendency ia to disguat men with the work they have to do in the world, of whatsoever nature that may be ; for it doer not elevate the man alone, but all thinga amend with him. His daily employment, before a cold and hopelesr teak, becomer blended with, and coloured by, hi domestic affections ; his commonat recreation8 are exercises both of the heart and the fancy; and

To him the me&, dmplest flowers that blow, Do nIee up thoughtd thst Ue too deepfor team'

Thir 'Iron Age,' we arc told, ir unfavourable to the cultivation of poetry'; its machinery is incompatible with imagination ; i b railway8 are the antipode8 of nature: i t M ridiculous to think of putting Parnasru under the plough, and starting a rteamboct on Helicon. AU this may be very wise and very witty; but to say that industry and poetry are antagonism8 (for this M the sum of the whole), is to confound poetry with vem-making. The crrprcoaion of poetry murt still rsmain the province of a few, but the perception of it -if we would advanco the people beyond the dry bones of material life, and lift them above the coarse ptiflcation of the llenllekmwt be extended to the many. The appliances of our Iron Agc, ro far from heiig nnfavourable to poetry, are more esrntially poeti- cal than those of that Golden Age when ~hepherds, with the aid of oaten stop and psstord song, ' dallied with the innocence of love.' If an ancient Greek were evoked from hir tomb of ages, and llet to wander through the wonder- ful country we term unpoetical he would be thrilled with mingled delight and awe, and hi8 impre~~ionr would gush forth in a torrent of song. The manufhctpry would be to him a world of poetry ; the thunder of its machinery would be, more truly than that of the tern- pest, the voice of viewlesr but intelligent spuib; and its productions, changing from rude, shapclesr mas* till they came forth perfect in form and beauty, would appear the work of enchantment. The flery locomo- tive, rkimming like the wind along the rurfsce of the earth, gliding by the side of precipice#, spanning gorges and valleys, and plunging with a rwh and a roar into cavern6 as black M Erebus, would take away his breath ; while the ateam-ahip, with her banner of rmoke, attempting impoasibilities, yea, getting the better of them, sailing defyingly up Into the very eye of the tempest, and laughing at the law1 of common nature, would teem the realination of a dream that could have haunted only the brain of a poet All thinga in, around, above, beneath ur, are grand, beautiful. wonderful, rub- Lime8 md the w e q f p a l r y b to touch our eyer with thst trltman which open8 their inner nature to our view. Till thb M done, we are mounded only by cddmdHf&ufor*

(1 'S rivu's brlm, A m m a to him,

* Ch'B10fp0"a t ~ ~ a r n e w h i c h ~ h d & k l g ~ kOE md thrargba rb#

f~tencd in the gmund

EDINBWCla J O W N A L 211

civilitation-if we do sot rather reek to gratify the yearnings of our nature rfter the poe t id by r d ex- traneou and unholy mearia u end both in manl and eocial ruin. L&

T O W N L I F E I N B U S S I A . PBOM THE BUBEIAN 01 NICEOLAB aOoOL

THE t o m of B-, in Lower Rwu, b,, generally speaking, a pruticularly dull nnd unintererhg abode. The h o w & built of clay, were origindy covered with mortar; but this, roftened by the rPin, ha8 wlad of in various pl.ceh leaving unrightly atchea, whore darhesa Is fa? from being relieved by tee rode thatch- ing of reeds whicli covers the rwfs. According to an all but univerad custom in our southern towns, the gorodailchi* long since caused the front garden8 to be Wren away, in order no doubt to embellish the view. In the rtreets few bl* are to be reen, except now and then .m unlucky r t r a ~ oock, who r t a h dong all covered with dust The first rhower converb thin durt into mud ; and then the town owarms with pigs, p u t - Ing portentoruly, and t h t i n g then solemn phynog- nomies agaiflst the legs of any hoywhich may happen to be carrylug 8 traveller. Sometlmer s farmer from the neighbowhood, the owner of a dozen eerfi, may be oeen passing, wated in a vehicle which form8 a aort of c o m p r o ~ between the britzku and the klsgq mr- rounded by sacks of flour, and whipping hii bay mare, which is accompanied by her colt The aspect of the market-place is d enough. Near it rtands the tailor'r h o w , presenting a sharp angle by way of front; at the opposite side rbes a tdl brick mansion, left un- finirhed during the h t fifteen yearn i s little farther on may be lleen a great h l a t ed bazaar, built of wood, and painted mud-colonr. This notable building wiu constructed by the gorodnitchi in the day8 of his youth, before he had acquired the habit of rleeping after dinner, and drinking every evening a decoction made from dried currants. In the centre of the market #quare stands a r d low shop, invariably furni~hed with a pile of round flat c a k g pieces of soap, rome pounds of bitter almondr, lead, cotton ballr, with an endlesm variety of other commoditie+all pmided over by two shopmen, who spend their day in playing the m&tra.t But some time dnce, the ~ rpec t of thingr waa totally changed by the arrival of a cavalry regi- ment The streets became more busy and animated when they were filled with moustaches rough and bristly M so many clothen-bruher. Then might be wen

' passing some tall handsome offlcer strolling toward8 a comrade'r quarters, perhap to d i m the chance8 of promotion, or the propertier of some new r n d i or, more likely still, to play cards, and rtake his drorki, which might fairly be called the drolki of the ngi- ment; for amongst the offlcers i t waa perpetually changing owners. One day the major might be wen driving in it, the next i t would a pear outaide the lieutonant's stable, and not long &ward, the a. tain's servant would be bun, w i n g its wheel#. T& garden-hedged onbide the t o m became g.y with sol- diers' garments, hang out to dry, and the roadr were enlivened by the continual waving of feathan and g W i n g of bright steeL

Tlie social animation of the upper chee r WM much increased by the arrival of the general commanding the brigade. Several wealthy proprietor8 from the aur- rounding country came in to call on the offlcers, and invite them to their houses. After some time, the general m s o l d to return them civilitier by giving a grand dinner, and mighty were the consequent Pre-

ation& The whole market was laid under Contri- r t i o n ; 80 that on the day before the entertainment, the judge and the archdeacon were f o n d to dine On W U p meat and brown bread.

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unerring nkiU does he w h the little marauder with his talons! With what a triumphant acream does he now and then proclaim from dar that he is bearing food to his young! A pnir of screech-owls once nested in our old barn, and they scemed to have young to feed from early spring to quite late in the autumn. I uned to watch the old ones go forth to their hunting-grounds, and watch also for their return. I obsewed that, before en-g the barn, they invariably pitched on the wmer of an old outhouse just by : it WM only for a few seconds ; bnt something WM alwap done here, and I determined to learn what. So one day I boarded up the front of thb rhed, and stuck a #h& pole out at the comer, thlu offering the owls a more convenient perching-place than before, and so ~itnated, that I could see from within the rhed what ase they made of i t When evening came I went to the garden-gate as heretofore, to obwrre pro- ceedings: the owla p ~ m l and repreplrssed, eyeing the mhed and pole with dintmat, and never once pitching on either; indeed they went about purposely to avoid it, or elee to convince me that they entirely disapproved of the new arrangement. But their aversion to the change wore off with ita novelty, and at the end of a week I saw one of tliem using the pole for a perching-place, jwt u he formerly ueed the m e r of the shed. Next day I shut myself np in the oathowe by broad daylight, and patiently waited for dusk I saw both owls pass within three yard# of me on their way to the hunting- grounds, but full twenty minutes elapsed before tlieir rehun. I kept my w e constantly at a wide crack that opened towards the fleld by which I knew they would return. Presently one topped the hedge, and came directly towards me; he held something in his foot, certainly a monse, head and tail hanging down. On he came; he alighted on the pole, stooped his head, took the mouse in his beak, turned his broad face and great eyes f d on the crevice I waa looking through, and then oilently floated through the open window of the barn. I mw nll t b i ~ again and again; and when both my friends were faraway at their hunting-grounds, I left my hiding- place, and went in to supper, well pleased with the suc- cem~ of my experiment The visit to the shed waa often repeated, and sometimes in company with others. Gene- rally tlie owls returned ~ilently to their perch; but wmetimes, especially before rain, they announced their return by a loud scream. Screech-owls never hoot. They have four notel, or rather noises: the 5mt is a kind of hiss; the second a kind of more; the third a kind of plaintive call-note, not very unlike the pewet's ; and the fourth is that loud meam always uttered on the wing, which constitutes, M I lnppose, their title to the name of screech-owls. A word more about the pair in our barn : one of my viriton, delighted with watching tliem from the shed, determined on a vhit to our owl- cot, as we called the corner of the barn they had selected for tlieir eyrie. He wished to make an inspection of the family amngementa, and he well-nigh paid the penalty of his curiwity : both the old birds 5ew at his head; and his hat, hastily p d e d over his eyes, luckily raved him from clawingo that would have W g u r e d his hysiognomy for life.

*gave said that these owl' had yonng ones to feed throughout the mmmer and autumn: I will explain how thin is, and how I came to flnd it out. In the 5r8t plllce, owls are hatched dm& naked, and in a very helpleaa date, and are at 1-t twice u long aa other birds before they can shift for themselves ; in the llecond place, the female layr eggs in paim, and she lays a aecond pair after the flnt pair in hatched. The young won become uwered with down, and look much like powder- puffs and the warmth of their bodies keep8 the e g g warm-warm enough, aa I imagine, to hatch them with- out any regalnr dtting on by the mother. I cannot say positively that rhe does not at at all on an eggs but the flrd; most likely she does; but this I %ow, that she doe* not ait regularly, being away half the night mensing for her ht-born. When the w a n d pair of eggr b h.tched, them crort &ding too: I suppore the

EDINBUBGH JOURNAL. 215

big pair are fed with big 5dd-mice, and the little pair with little harvest-mice; hnt, mind, I don't lay t h b down as a fact; I merely glve them credit for EO clever an arrangement ; for, in virtue of their adoption by m sage a personage, we may fairly #uppore the hirdr of tonewa to be the &st of all birds. Thus a conatant succession of young is kept u p Now I believe it b well known that nestling birds eat doable or treble u much as old ones : snch ia certainly the fnct, and the quicknm of their growth in a great merume explainr it. A young bird on leaving the nest ir almost aa big M hia mother; and an thii commonly happem in a rwy few weeks, the rate of growth is prodigious, and cer- tainly tlie snpply of food is bountiful in proportion. I t is obvious to me that the prolonged mwon of feeding, in the instance of the ocreech-owl compels that bird to do the greatest quantity of good. It seems M though theae penecnted creature# were commanded to m e mankind to the utmost But to my tale :-

One day in October 1822 I nu sanntering.aloog r lane between Munotead and Hascomb, when, jwt u I p a a d s great pollard oak, I MW a rcreech-owl come out of a hole from which once issued a tolerably large branch. I tapped the trunk with the butt-end of my gnn, and immediately afterwards beard a mqonse from within-that noise which Bewick calla snoring. Of course I laid down my gun, and climbed the tree, which was certainly one of the toughest tPah I ever undertool ; there WN wrcely a twig to hold on by, and the bole was uncomfortably large. I think the top of thin tree must have been snapped off by the wind, or perhap strnck by lightning at rome remote time, for a lot of short, thick, worm-eaten splinters #tuck up amonpt vigorous boughs, giving the tree a very odd appearance. There b lomething curious in the way life and death contend for the mastery in an old tree. Life is conti- n d y supplying new branches-ay, and vigorow on- too-new wood, and new bark, which gradually creep on, and at last hides old decayed @pots or wounds. Death works his silent way from the centre day by day, reconverting particles of solid wood into ita kindred dust, hastening it back to earth, from whence it sprang. To proceed : the treat of inlpecting the interior of t h i ~ tree was not to be obtained; EO I put on a thick leathern glove, and thrust my arm up to the mhoulder into the hole whence Mr Gillihoolet made his exit. The produce of the flrlt grasp wea an owlet of very respectable rize, quite three parts grown, and too well feathered to be trusted alone, LW I buttoned him in the pocket of my shooting-jacket, and tried my luck again : this time an owlet came to light less than half the size of the flrrt, and apparently youthful in proportion to his littlenm; he wan also consigned to the pocket; and then a third exnctly like the second. After a good deal of groping about, I felt pretty lure there were no more OWL or owleb to be found, but there waa something very much like e g p ; EO I ventured to feel with an ungloved hd, and brought out three egge, one at a time. They wen, very warm, and seemed half-buried in something very much like highly-dried pulverised mice, which I pre- sume to have been produced by long trampling on the pelleta cant up by the old owla Having carefully d e po~ited one egg in each wabtcoat pocket, and a third in my mouth, and having acrewed up in paper rome of the dust, I commenced my descent, and landing in sat proceeded to examine my treaaum. One of the % owls retnrned in the meantime, and, perched on a bough at a little distance, #trove to look as philosophical N possible under her loss. Determined to understand M much M possible of this happy family, 1 proceeded to pierce the ege . One was addled-thir WW not the one I had brought down in my mouth-the others Were 'net hard,' aa our countrymen express it. The owlets were too far advanced towards hatching to admit of their being blown. I felt s o w for having destroyed the egg#; but I made what amend? I could by wain climbing that difflcult tree, and replaclog the three youog onen where I found them-ht, however, mbmitting them to r

r- ' . - CHAMBERS'S

We then traveme a wildernera of apartments, com- dore, galleries, and reutibulen, which surround the octagonal court called the Cortile Belvidere, in the middle of which b a fountain. This wurt is Bur- rounded by a portico, mpported by llixteen granite pil- lam, in the intercolumniations between which are some of the moot celebrated works of art in the world. Among thec~, the first of course is the Apollo Belvi- dere, the moot noble representation of the human form that h c o m e down to IM from antiquity. Of thio otatue them have been descriptions without number, while msts are ao multiplied, that they have diffused the idea of i t throughout the civilined world. Still, nothing but a profound rtudy of the marble can afford a satis- factory conception of its beauty and majesty. The proportions arc somewhat above that of the human flgure, but so replete ir it with the spirit of grandeur, that it excites a much more powerful feeling of the sublime than the most w l d otatuen of ggppt or Asia.

Next a h the Apollo, the most remarkable atatue is that of a Bpcchic nymph, recumbent, and in a state of deep aleep. The rvtist haarepresented most socceaafully the attitude of extreme repow, and adjusted the limbs so u to mggest the idea of dreamy enjoyment In what is d e d the Wth niche is the celebrated group of L o - coon and his two sons, interlaced in the folds of the serpent. This is one of the few examples of the homble left m by antiquity, and belonga to that period of art in which the striking ru oubstituted for the beautiful. ' I t is ably executed, but in bad tsste, M i t is not the

i object of art to suggest ideas of torture and mffering. There are several statues of Venun-one grouped with

Lore, another bathing, and a third bearing the emblernr of victory. Minema, too, and the other goddesses are there; ro that, standing near the centre of the court, the eye may command almost at one view all the more powerful denizens of Olympw, b i d e s groups innumer- able of Bacchantes, Fauns, and animals.

We next proceed to the &la degli Animali, so called from the numerous figures of animals there found in conjunction with those of men and heroes. Several of the achievernenta of Hercules are there represented in marble-as his destruction of Geryon, his contest with Cerbernn, the death of the Nemsean lion, and of Dio- medea. Next to these are a symbolical flgure of Mithra stabbing a bull, an equestrian &toe of Commodns, a Nereid, and a Centuw. Scattered in confusion around are flgures and groups of anim&a sphynx in ala- baster ; a dolphin swimming in a sea of white marble; a crab of green porphyry ; a lion devouring a home; a now and litter of white marble; a cow of bigio, with dogs, serpents, eaglea, stags, ottem, nwrpions ; a leopard of alabaster, inlaid with spots of black marble; and a lion of Porta Santa, with tongue of rosm antico, and teeth of white marble.

This leads into the gallery of h t u e s and busts, though the name might with equal propriety be given to half the chambers in the Vatican. Here are found so many remains of antiquity, that a whole volume would scarcely aufflce to describe them. Among theae are exquhite representations of Artemis, Aphrcdite, nymphs, fauns, satyrs, gods, heroes, and kingn, ar- ranged in two long lines; and at the extremity of the v i a in beheld the jewel of the whole collection- the %gore of Ariadne asleep. A singular charm belong to h o s t every representation of thir Cretan princess, w h w wrongs and sorrows have excited the sympathy of mankind for more thrn three thowand years. Here, dressed in the most graceful manner, she lies upon the ground in a quiet repose, every limb, attitude, and pos- ture being &lated to mggest the idea of celestial dumber. With unusual taste they who nuperintended the arrygemen.tfl the ,@lery have placed this sleeping beauty in a part~nn which onggeats the idea that all the v& awemb y of divinities and mortals there assembled lua engaged in r e g the mlmnberr of Ari-.

h v d n g revera1 chambers of variow &mendon&

L

EDINBURGH JOURNAL 919

but all adorned with rplendid mooaics, arabequee, and paintings representing fruita, flowers, and vinu, and enriched with the varied creations of art, we arrive a t the grand hall of the Greek Cross, so named from ib being built in that form. It is regarded er an architec- tural masterpiece, and is conrtructed u n a ci& area in such a manner, that the limbs o E h e cross are represented by the areas of four arches that rnpport the domed ceiling, lined with plain white atucco. The pavement, partly of inlaid marble, and partly of andent mosaic, is separated into two parts by a balmtrade which serves to protect the head of Athena, m n d e d by fantastic arabesques The portal by which we enter is the most magnificent in the Vatican, with j amk and lintels of highly-polished red Oriental granite, flanked by a pdr of colossal statues of Egyptian deities, which serve as caryatides to support a broad and heavy en- tablature above. The doors are formed of two enor- mous alabs of dark wood, with ornaments of gilded bronze; and above the whole is a nplendid marble barso-reliwo r e p m t i n g a combat of g ldators and wild bessts. A few statues and busts form the role contents of this magnificent hall, on one ride of which ir the grand staircase leading to the upper aplvtmenta of the palace. Tho steps are of Carrara marble, the balustrades of an intermixture of the same material and bronze, the whole producing a gorgeous effect upon the eye. Ascending this superb staircase we flnd our- selves in the Hall of the Racing-Chariot, lculptured in white marble, the whole supported on a prodigiow block of verde antico. Around, in nicher and on pedestnlq are numerow ancient &atuea. Out of this chamber we p u s through a door of glans and iron into the Hd of Candelabra, of cnpadow dimenuiona, where the specta- tor enjoys the most rplendid coup-bail in the Vatican, through long ranges of candelabra, of the richest mate- rials and most exquisite workmanlip, intempersed with Egyptian and Hellenic statues, marble tazza, vases of crystal, dabeater, and empentine ; figures d p t u r e d in coffee-coloured basalt and black granite, with red crystals; columns of porphyry, of variepted marhles, rare red and white granite, and a profision of bassi- relien, mosaics, paintings, and every kind of ancient monuments.

Beyond this we mount to the Gregorian Museum, in ob- taining permission to view which otrmgerr experience great d i m d t y ; and even when there, are rigidly pro- hibited from making notes. They must therelore truat to their memory, which, in such a Noah's ark of anti- quities, is lure to mislead. This accounto for one learned Theban'a comparing a beautiful statue of Mercury to a new chimney-pot, simply became the colour reminded him of that useful article, which is not always red. The man who sliows you round has had his nose inflamed by the statue to the colour of that of Bardolph; and as he in particularly active and vigilant, he rometimer pots conoscenti out of temper. There are here about a thousand Etruscan vanen, taken from the tomb, which, if they represent ecener similar to what are there found, may well be conceded by the popes fkom the prying eyes of northern viatom, and kept for their o m exclu- sive pleasure. To thir succeeds an immense apartment, which may be called the hdo ir , or dressing-room of the goddesses, aince it b filled with all aorta of fen~ale ornamenttitiarm, mitres. fillets, some of pure gold, exquisitely wrought in filigree, with leaves of vine, myrtle, and olive. There is one of oak, each l e d of which has the exact resemblance of nature even to the minutest fibres; and these are overlaid, one over an- other, like the feathem at the end of a peacock's tail to a considerable thickness. One ingenious tmvcller mggesta that modern ladies might imi)ate these head- dreams with great e M Passing thin, we enter the great Gallery of Tapestry, then the Hall of Ma the Picture Odery, and the Camera dl ~affaee&! taining wme of the ~ - t productions of modem art. Other galletlee, =do- W, conrb, vestibaler, and mikr of apartments f* in interminable mcaubn,

CEKAMBERS'S

An awful yell of triumph burst from the Indians. A bold I.d h.d n p C near, and reported them l i f e l a ; and fogetting &ir caution, the h d - skins rush&

, helter-Mter. in hope to be the first to capture the dmirable that all coveted. pnolo d e d to J- to be reedy. lj-king their rae and a pistol each, they snatched UP their ax-, and prepared for the laat straggle.

A more human shout responded to their .volley. From down the valley rose a joyoua cry of triumph; then the tran~pling of horscs, the discharge of markets, nnd the sudden flight of the Indiana up the sides of the vnUey, proclaimed a rescue. They were raved; rnd in a few minutea more Donna M a r k wag aiding to m b r e her fainting huband to U u n r . wbie poor Rosa, her attached maid, in pity on the starved mien of Juan.

~h~ llorse had reached i b stable, to the great alarm of all the village. Donna Maria, with that decision of character which characterbe8 the sensible woman and the attached wife, armed a perty of fifteen horsemen-picked young men and h u n t e p a n $ ac- companied by Rosa, started in pursuit. The Mexlcans had no difficulty in following the trail. They reached the scene of tbe panther tragedy, and then understood the night of the horse. But Maria waa doubly terrified at the idea of her huband on foot in these savnge wilde, and p u s h d on. guided by their recent they pursued their way . and one after-

a of the siiht of an camp, explained all.

Two days did the poor wife nurse her weak and fevcriah husband in that wild place i but then she saw him revive under the iduence of care, affection, and uouriahing food. Juan waa so sobered by hin suffaringa, that he humbly begged the hand of b e j and their Quixotic enthusiasm over, thc two young Inen were ready to agree as to the abrurdity of their searching for an Enchanted City amid those rugged of stone. The cavalcade returned home without further adven-

Don & to work with zest to improve the condition of his fmmera and peasantry ; and wllile studying quietly to be able to serve his country, a devoted and grateful huband, an excellent father- as turned out Juan, who married, and became in time a solid, grave ateward and overwer. Both arc now fully convinced that there is in thin world but one Enchanted City-and that is a happy home.

EDINBURGH JOUBNAL 2aB

hexagonal diviaionq u bma ht down upon it, thu cntthg at one operation fifty-two f*cuit, To fuoilitata the 10-

moval of tllcse to the oven, the franc ie dowed to come down a length, cot the cakea nesrly, but not quite tluough. when b d d , they are very w i l y =prakd- It may be a u ~ ~ w d the h would apt to adhere to the interstice8 between the sEarp cuttmg edgee. Tllis fa p v i d e d winst; and here be dtd an inetance of that forethought displayed by inventom of truly raotical and nseful machinem. A movable k m e i, placegbetween each cutting hexagonal ~ e r i q h e f ~ ; and on the top of t b fa placed a heavy iron be we~gtung mvsrnl ouncea The operation u simple. The frame dewending cub the fifty-two bucuitn; the fift -two frnmw give way

the euperior rwure; but on t L w e cutting aaccnb~@ the ball8 their comP'-'n*

to hll, projecting the dough, which ~~ r d ~ to be pulled out to the oven.

h~$-h'==ding.-Jme on tho subject of bread, it may not be to ingenious lor kuesding dough forming a good instance of manipulative imitation.

ine witneMi,,g the mixing and kneading of dough must havo noticed the peculior motion of the hnnh u d arms by which, at every sncoessive effort, a new surfnce or material b presented Lo thc muscular action. The imita- tion of such a proccer, by which the 'dough in inverted *m time to tlme, tom asunder, and reunited in every Merent form' by macluner~, may be justly suppoeed to be dimcult, but in reality very simplc. I t in effectc.13 by meam of a cylindrical receptnclc revolving on a hollow azis, and having in it8 interior revolving knivcs or cutters. The cylindricel receptacle may turned inde~endontly of the cutterframe, or both top;ethcr, or in contrnry direo- tiona The flow, yesst, and other ingredients are put into the receptacle, nnd there subjectud to the notion of ro- volving barrels or rotatory knives, or to their eombincd movements $he axle of thc rece tacle being bollow, h i t s of the shaft of the cuttcr-kame b c i i brought through it; by screwing bolts in the nxlcsof certain wheeln, tight or loose, and by turnin one handle, thc combined or Beprate mOuona are c%tnined-

BraJfuking.-m11 very recentl , bricka for various p u - p'e8wcre invwinbl~ made by hang, the operation being ex- trcmely simple. After kncndin tho clay by a laborious pro- CC*, the aVorkman sha d thc%ricks by pressillg clay mto h n or wooden m o u l g nfony ingenious machines llave recentl bcen introduced for making bricb, from the &- . ing of tee clay to the Rnal formation of the piecea B r i c ~ a r e formed mechanically by ono of two methods-forcing pm- y r c d cky or earth into regular-ehaped moulds, or by cylin-

e n stretchin maasw of clay into long ribbon-like shape of the brerdtf and tliickncss of the brick, and cutting by wires or other contrivaucca the ril~bon into 11roper lcnflh&

IhfI'l'HII"l'IV MANIPULATION OF MACHINERY. Bim~it-Ouking.4uch was the striking inefficiency of tho system of baking tlie biaouits for the use of the navy during the lato war, that an establihment has been in o eration for somo wars at Portsmouth for manufacturing t .em bv

Paasing over many ingenious mncliincs, we willnoticetwo, aa formin remarkable instances of manipulative inlitation. The A n t Pa the invention of Mr Jonca of Birmingham, and Is what we may term a rotatory machino. A large horizon- h l wheel of cmt-iron in placed on a strong hed of maaonry; on its upper surface are Inid rcctannular moulds or

machinej, which, being on a s t scale, tu&s out & inlmeme quantity of broad w e e g a n d of a very excellent description. The machinery is the invention of T. J. Grant, JGq., 'who, we believe, has becn ro rly rewarded by a grant of L?W0 from Rowrnment.P K e ingredients being mixed in proper proportions, are sul?jected to the action of revolving knives, by which they are mixed. Tile dough thus formed h psssed beneath heavy cant-iron rollers, moving horiaontally alon stout tables, which presr it into huge mosees, some feet Ion by 3 b r o d Aiter bein cut into smaller yieocs, a n t again eub- jected to f f e action of the rollers, thus quickly rednoin dl know apd thorn hly mixing the dough, it ia pame! under n sheet roller 31ile lying on laqe h t boards. The next opcrntion is the cutting the thin sheets of dough then prepared into properlyahaped biscuita T l ~ e s h a p adopted h that of the hexagon, for the same reason nu that which appean te have dictated the instinct of the bee in formhg its cells. If the cirole had becn the form used, it Ir evident that the isoes of dongh left between the touch@ oirclea muet &re been unwed, w h e w h r n the peculiar shape of the hexagon, the wholo sheel of dou 4 with the exception of insignificant portions at U e $rb pea to form biicuih. Tho dough to be

into h i t . Wing plaoad in the blanket, a b e mdztg d u l l y , having a it. under surfme sharpedged .

boxes, of ihe sizc and nhape of tlie hrick-to be made; tho ullder surface of the whcel ia provided with teeth, which work into tllose of n pinion wrought by the firat morcr . fkiction-wheel. guide tho large wheel in its h o r l ~ o n t a l l ~ ~ circular movenient ; and n hopper containin the earth is placed in such a position, that aa the moul~?~asses under it, the earth drop therein, and is prenacd forcibly and its surface =raped by a revolving conical roller placed on the under part of the hopper. The mode of rcmovillg the bricks la remarkably ingcnious. In tho inlido of each mould 8 piaton works vertically; the piaton-rod p3snes tllrough a hole in the nnder part of tho mould, and is pro- vided at its lower extremity with a small friction-wllecl, running in contrct with an inclined way placed on tho masonry and under the large whceL

The hoppar is placed at tho lowest side of tho inclined path. The action is as follows:-The friction-wheel of the piston of tho mould running invnrisbly in oontact with the ~nclined path, it follows tllnt, when undcr the hopler, the piston will be at the bottom of the mould; but 8s the large wheel revolves, carrying away from the hoplmr the mould, the wheel travellin up the incline will bo pressed upwnrds, and along with jt t f e piston and h o k : when it arrives at the top, tho d"..D. b m p d that the brick Ir fomed 00IDphbl~ ~d fa d e d away in nn e n d l a belt; L h a d e n * the incline on the 0th