CHAMBERS'S EDINBURGH JOURNAL. ANTS IN PERU. Who can describe the countless myriads of ants which swarm through the forests? Every shrub is full of creeping life, and the decayed vegetation affords harbour for some peculiar kinds of these insects. The large yellow puca çiçi is seen in multitudes in the open air, and it even penetrates into the dwellings. This insect does not bite, but its crawling creates great irritation to the skin. The small black yana çiçi, on the contrary, inflicts most painful punctures. A very mischievous species of stinging ant is the black sunchiron. This insect inflicts a puncture with a long sting, which he carries in the rear of his body. The wound is exceedingly painful, and is sometimes attended by dangerous consequences. My travelling companion, C. Klee, being stung by one of these ants, suffered such severe pain and fever, that he was for a short while delirious. A few nights afterwards, a similar attack was made on myself during sleep. It suddenly awoke me, and caused me to start up with a convulsive spring. I must confess that I never, in my whole life, experienced such severe pain as I did at that moment. phenomenon is exhibited by the swarms of the species A most remarkable called the great wandering ant.' They appear suddenly in trains of countless myriads, and proceed forward in a straight direction, without stopping. The small, the weak, and the neuters are placed in the centre, while the large and the strong flank the army, and look out for prey. These swarms, called by the natives chacus, sometimes enter a hut and clear it of all insects, amphibia, and other disagreeable guests. This work being accomplished, they again form themselves into a long train, and move onwards. The united force of these small creatures is vast, and there is no approach to the fabulous, when it is related that not only snakes, but also large mammalia, such as agoutis, armadillos, &c. on being surprised by them, are soon killed. On the light dry parts of the higher montanas we find the large conical dwellings of the Termes so firmly built, that they are impenetrable even to rifle-shot. They sometimes stand singly, sometimes together, in long lines. In form they strongly resemble the simple, conical Puna hats.-Dr Von Tschudi. CLOTHING FOR THE YOUNG. Are the little 'Highlanders' whom we meet during three out of the four quarters of the year under the guardianship of their nurserymaids, dawdling about the streets in our public walks or squares, properly protected from the cold? Are the fantastically-attired children whom we see 'taking an airing' in carriages in our parks, sufficiently and properly clad? If these questions can be truly answered in the affirmative, then, and then only, my remarks are needless. There can enter into the parent mind no more baneful idea than that of rendering children 'hardy' by exposing them unnecessarily to cold, and by clothing them inefficiently. I have known instances wherein parents, acting on this principle, have failed entirely in rearing their offspring. Does nature treat her progeny thus? Does she not, first of all, insure the birth of her young only at a kindly season, and then provide them with downy coverings, warm nests, and assiduous protectors? And we must imitate nature, if we would give to Britain a race capable and worthy of maintaining her independence and honour. The little denizens of a warm nursery must not be subjected, without a carefully-assorted covering, to the piercing and relentless east or north-east wind; they must not be permitted to imbibe the seeds of that dreadful scourge of this climate-consumption-in their walks for exercise and health; they must be tended, as the future lords of the earth, with jealous care and judicious zeal. One-sixth of the deaths of young children, it must be remembered, result from cold.-Erasmus Wilson. CALIFORNIAN HOUSES. Externally, the habitations have a cheerless aspect, in consequence of the paucity of windows, which are almost unattainable luxuries. Glass is rendered ruinously dear by the exorbitant duties, while parchment, surely a better substitute than a cubic yard of adobes, is clearly inadmissible in California, on account of the trouble of its preparation; and, to increase the expense, carpenters are equally extravagant and saucy, charging three dollars for such a day's work as one is likely to get from fellows that will not labour more than three days in the week. After all, perhaps the Californians do not feel the privation of light to be an evil. While cupations of those who do nothing; and even for the purcooler, it cannot, by any possibility, interfere with the occertainly makes the rooms poses of ventilation, windows are hardly needed, inasmuch daily exposed to the sun and wind. Among the Californian as the bedding, the only thing that requires fresh air, is the full benefit of contrast. While the other furniture conhousewives, the bed is quite a show, enjoying, as it does, sists of a deal-table and some badly-made chairs, with probably a Dutch clock and an old looking-glass, the bed ostentatiously challenges admiration, with its snowy sheets fringed with lace, its pile of soft pillows covered with the finest linen or the richest satin, and its well-arranged drapery of costly and tasteful curtains. Still, notwithstanding the washings and the airings, this bed is but a whited sepulchre, concealing in the interior a pestilential wool mattress, the impregnable stronghold of millions of las pulgas.-Sir George Simpson. PROPAGATION OF THOUGHT. Who shall say at what point in the stream of time the cease to influence? personal character of any individual now on the earth shall communicated to another mind is gone; it is beyond recall; A sentiment, a habit of feeling once by Heaven: its character was evil; vain the remorse that it bore the stamp of virtue; it is blessing man, and owned would revoke it, vain the gnawing anxiety that would compute its mischief; its immediate, and to us visible, effect may soon be spent; its remote one, who shall calcu late? The oak which waves in our forest to-day, owes its form, its species, and its tint to the acorn which dropped from its remote ancestor, under whose shade Druids worshipped. 'Human life extends beyond the threescore years and ten which bound its visible existence here.' The spirit is removed into another region, the body is crumbling into dust, the very name is forgotten upon earth; but living and working still is the influence generated by the moral features of him who has so long since passed away. The characters of the dead are inwrought into those of the living; the generation below the sod formed that which now dwells and acts upon the earth, the existing generation is moulding that which succeed it, and distant posterity shall inherit the characteristics which we infuse into our children to-day. The Parent's High Commission. MORAL EFFECTS OF PESTILENCE. tell us that the continual recurrence of these scenes of All witnesses, and a knowledge of our common nature, sickness and death, instead of softening the heart, usually hardens it. Read the accounts of all great plagues: the plague at Athens-the plague at Milan, as described either Borromeo, or in the more popular pages of the best Italian in the historians of the day and the biographers of Cardinal novel, the Promessi Sposi'—read the account of the plague in London-and you will see that in all these cases the bulk of the people become more reckless and profligate than ever.-Viscount Ebrington. a large one. SMALL LOAVES. It is a sound dietetic observation, that bread, if wished small loaves. The principal reason for this is, that the to be as easily digested as possible, should be baked products of fermentation, which are obstructive to digestion, escape more completely from a small loaf than from the bread into a very hot oven, or for keeping it in the nutritive qualities. Bread baked in small loaves is sweeter There is, moreover, less necessity for putting oven so long a time as to deprive the outer part of its to the taste than when baked in large loaves; and this is probably because it is more entirely freed from the products of fermentation.-Robertson on Diet and Regimen. THE AFFECTIONS. little attention to the heart. From Aristotle down to It appears unaccountable that our teachers generally Locke, books without number have been composed for have directed their instructions to the head, with very cultivating and improving the understanding; but few, in proportion, for cultivating and improving the affections. Lord Kames. Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. Also sold by D. CHAMBERS, 98 Miller Street, Glasgow; W. S. Orr, 147 Strand, and Amen Corner, London; and J. M'GLASHAN, 21 D'Olier Street, Dublin.-Printed by W. and R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c. No. 186. NEW SERIES. THE PRINCE. SATURDAY, JULY 24, 1847. PRICE 14d. and the two strangers vanished from Rochelle, the one by sea, and the other by land, leaving behind them a grand enigma for the ingenuity of the townspeople. The youth's reputation in all probability had got on board before him; although the elderly traveller, in recommending him to the captain, could not be prevailed upon to say more than that he was a person of distinction, whose friends would one day show their gratitude for any services that were rendered him. This, however, was sufficient to insure his being treated with respect; and indeed the dignified manner of the youthful voyager would have extorted respect of itself. In his were common, though sufficiently agreeable; he was of the middle stature; and, in short, he had nothing whatever to distinguish him, but a certain air of high life, and a singularly white and delicate skin, as if he had never, since his birth, been permitted to be visited too roughly even by the winds of heaven. EXACTLY one hundred years ago, there arrived in the town of Rochelle in France a young man, apparently under twenty, of very elegant appearance, but simple and unpretending manners. He was attended, rather than accompanied, by an elderly gray-headed man, who seemed to be neither a domestic nor a parent, but who regarded him with all the respect of the one, and all the careful fondness of the other. The youth, indeed, appeared to require a certain watchful attendance, although surrounded, as one might have imagined, by some prestige which precluded familiarity; for, not-person he was neither handsome nor tall; his features withstanding the cool quiet air supposed to distinguish the great, he was thoughtless and capricious in no ordinary degree, giving way habitually, and without the slightest consideration, to the whim of the moment. Both were plainly dressed. They neither courted nor shunned observation; and the only singularity which distinguished them from ordinary travellers, was their declining to take up their abode in the inn, even for the short period they intended to remain. They at once furnished an apartment for themselves at a private house, though by no means on an extravagant scale-the whole expense amounting only to L.20; and there they resided together, without making a single acquaintance, very rarely stirring abroad, and living chiefly on shellfish, but more especially fresh-water crabs a circumstance that excited some notice, from these delicacies being scarce and dear at Rochelle. It appeared to be their business here to find a passage for the younger of the two to some foreign country; but in consequence of the hot war with England, vessels did not sail so frequently as usual, and they were for some time disappointed. At length an occasion offered. A small merchantman was about to sail for Martinique; and this appearing to be as good a theatre as any for the study of the world, it was determined that the youth should embrace the opportunity, and sally forth on his course of adventures. The moment of embarkation had nearly arrived, and he was in close conversation with his elderly companion, when the lady of the house inquired what he intended to do with his furniture? An incident occurred during the voyage which warmed the respect of the crew into affection. On an alarm of the approach of English cruisers, almost all got into the shallop, to creep along the coast close inshore; and so suddenly was the step taken, that no provisions were thought of. The result was extreme hunger in the boat; which was generously relieved by their passenger, who bought a stock of refreshments from one of the native craft, and distributed them, share and share alike, to all on board. When they returned to the ship, the youth was seized with an illness; and it was remarked, with more of interest than displeasure, that a certain degree of haughtiness mingled with the courtesy with which he received the anxious attentions that were pressed upon him from all quarters. His situation required care and tenderness, but he seemed to shrink from familiarity; till at length the necessities of his condition led him to select, as his attendant, a young man only a few years older than himself. To this person, whose name was Rhodez, and who was of a respectable family and liberal education, he gradually became attached, and at length bestowed upon him even some portion of his confidence. Rhodez reported that the stranger was the Count de Tarnaud, the son of a field-marshal; but this was by no means so lofty a dignity as to account for the respect 'What do you say?' said the young man absently. 'Oh, the furniture! Keep it,' continued he, with a cour-of the confidant, which seemed to increase every day. teous smile, for a remembrance of me.' The lady looked at the other in surprise, but the transaction appeared to make no impression upon him of any kind; and when the interruption was over, he resumed the conversation without remark. This would not, perhaps, have appeared extraordinary in very wealthy people; but the fact was certain, that the youth's funds, on embarking for the West Indies, hardly amounted to more than the value he thus heedlessly gave away: In fact, the avowal of his rank only made the mystery more dense; till all speculations were at length ended for the time by the appearance of the port of Martinique, blocked up by English cruisers. Under these circumstances, as it was impossible to save ship or cargo, the vessel was abandoned, and all on board took to their boats, and landed on the island in safety, but in total destitution. The count bore his misfortune very coolly, perhaps merely regarding it as one of the adventures he had come to seek; and, followed by Rhodez, went straight to the most respectable house he could find. Here he was received with much kindness by an officer called Duval Ferrol, whose attentions he accepted as a common matter of course; replying slightly and vaguely to his questions, and making himself as comfortable as possible. The host received but small enlightenment from Rhodez, who told all the little the reader already knows, but appeared either unable to proceed farther, or terrified to do so; and the real mystery thus came to be thickened with all kinds of conjectures and exaggerations, each more absurd than the last. The commandant of the port at length thought it high time for him to enter upon the scene, and, by way of putting beyond all doubt the real rank of the stranger, offered him the use of his house and table. This the count accepted with much satisfaction; and, always accompanied by Rhodez, as a sort of gentleman attendant, or humble friend, removed at once to the residence of the commandant. It happened on the first day that, when all were sitting down to dinner, he found that he had forgotten his handkerchief, on which Rhodez immediately got up and brought it to him. This incident made the company stare at each other with unspeakable perplexity; for at the time of which we write, a white man waiting upon a white man, in the West Indies, was entirely unheard of. That Rhodez, who knew the customs of the place well, would submit to this dishonour in any ordinary case, was not to be supposed; and again the question recurred, who was this pretended count? resided at Martinique, and the derangement of whose The Marquis de Caylus now began to feel somewhat uneasy at Fort St Pierre, and despatched an order to the commandant to send him his unruly guest. The commandant, however, suggested that he could by no means take such a liberty, since the individual in question was assuredly the hereditary Prince of Modena; and the marquis therefore addressed a letter to the Count de Tarnaud, inviting him to repair to his resiIn the middle of dinner the commandant received a dence. To him,' replied his highness, I am Hercules note from Duval Ferrol, the count's former host, con- Renaud d'Est, although the Count de Tarnaud to the rest taining these words: 'You wish for information relative of the world. If he desires to see me, let him repair to to the French passenger who lodged with me some days: Fort Royal, which is half-way, and in four or five days his signature will furnish more than I am able to give. II shall be there.' The officers who brought the missive enclose you a letter I have just received from him.' The reported the stranger's resemblance to the Duchess de letter contained merely some common words of thanks, Penthièvre, and the governor's doubts began to give written in a schoolboy hand, and in a very bad style; way. He set out for Fort Royal as commanded; but but it was signed 'Est,' not Tarnaud. What could this his heart failed him, and he turned back. The prince, mean? The commandant secretly despatched a friend not finding him there, proceeded to Fort St Pierre, acto consult some persons better acquainted with the aris-companied by a retinue of gentlemen, and was seen by tocracy than himself; and by the aid of an almanac, these gentlemen at length appeared to master the difficulty. The mysterious stranger could be no other than Hercules Renaud d'Est, hereditary Prince of Modena, and brother of the Duchess de Penthièvre! Although this, for the present, was only a conjecture, it so happened that they had the means of verifying it; for there were two persons among them (one a brotherin-law of the commandant) who knew the prince by sight. In the evening, therefore for they would not intrude earlier upon the dinner party-they all repaired to the commandant's house; and there his brother-inlaw had no sooner cast his eyes upon the illustrious guest, than he pronounced him to be the duke. Even this, however, would not have been conclusive testimony, for the witness was reported to be so much averse to speaking truth, that he never did so, even when drunk; but he was supported by the other officer, and the affair was decided. By and by a flourish of bugles was heard without, and the brother-in-law and his friends, who had been pushing the decanters about the whole afternoon, while waiting till it should be time for the visit, drank, with loud cheers, to the health of Hercules Renaud d'Est, hereditary Prince of Modena. The stranger was confounded by this scene. He had probably signed Est' inadvertently, and the unexpected consequences filled him for a time with vexation and haughty displeasure. The blockade of the English became in the meantime more and more strict, till it threatened at length to produce actual starvation. Supplies could be obtained only from Curaçoa and St Eustatia, and these, at the best, would have been scanty and expensive, even if they had not to pass through the hands of men who took the opportunity of preying upon the public misery. The chief of the monopolists was the governor of the Windward Islands himself, the Marquis de Caylus, who the governor from his windows; upon which the latter, exclaiming that he was the very image of his mother and sister, left the place in a panic, and retired to Fort Royal. The Rubicon was now passed. It would be affectation to repudiate longer a rank which had been assigned to him without any agency of his own, and the Prince of Modena assumed his ancestral state, and appointed his household. The Marquis d'Eraguy had the honour of being nominated his grand equerry; Duval Ferrol, his first host on the island, became one of his gentlemen attendants; and the faithful Rhodez exulted in the office of page. He held a court, and gave formal audiences; and his levees were sedulously attended, not only by all who had complaints to make against the existing government, but by many of the officers of the administration, who conceived it politic to seek the protection of a hereditary prince. His palace was at first || the convent of the Jesuits; but this excited so much the jealousy of the Dominicans, that after a time he removed to the establishment of the latter, where he was treated, if possible, with still more distinction. A table of thirty covers was laid for him and his guests every day. His dinner was a great spectacle, which passed on to the sound of trumpets; and as it was the custom to admit the people into the hall on the occasion, it became necessary to have the table defended by strong rails from the pressure of the crowd. Under this régime, St Peter's presented the aspect of a vast theatre. Serious business was no more thought of; the wheels of government stood still; money once more came into active circulation; provisions, liberated from the chains of monopoly, arrived from all quarters; eating, drinking, and dancing were the order of the day; and, as if fortune had determined to signalise the reign, as it may be called, of the duke by her choicest triumphs, the news of the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle came over the Atlantic to complete the general intoxication. It may be supposed that the character of the royal adventurer was severely tested during a period of more brilliant fortune than he could have enjoyed on the ducal throne. We must remember, however, that he was a mere lad, exposed to temptation of every kind, and not condemn too severely the vagaries into which he was led by his wild and restless spirit. Accustomed to indulgence, as it appeared, from his cradle, he never knew what it was to repress a wish, or even feel a doubt; and he plunged madly into all the excesses of the time and place, and led the way in dissipation as zealously as he had offered to head the ranks of war. But the strange thing was, that even in his wildest moments he never forgot his rank. Neither the madness of wine, nor the witcheries of beauty, ever betrayed him into laying aside, for an instant, the dignity of the prince; and thus it was, that even the companions of his most unguarded hours continued to look upon him with a kind of awe. The hospitality of the monks, it will be seen, was highly convenient for the wandering sovereign, who had landed in Martinique without a coin in his pocket; but soon he had abundance of money from a more legitimate source. It chanced that the Duke de Penthièvre possessed considerable property in the island; and his agent was of course not the last to present himself at the court of his constituent's brother-inlaw. A gracious reception, and a half-hour's conversation in private, were sufficient to determine the honest man to do his duty to the family; and the Penthièvre funds were freely placed at the disposal of the young prince. This circumstance completely shut the mouths of the few malcontents who still affected to doubt his rank; for the agent was a prudent and cautious man, well acquainted with the affairs and connexions of the house, and would never have taken such a step except from absolute conviction. The malcontents, besides, could not fail to see that the money was not intrusted to unworthy hands. An impostor would either have squandered the treasure in mad extravagance, or have hoarded it against the time when he might think it necessary to decamp; but the Duke of Modena was neither careful of money nor profuse, spending just what was proper and liberal in his station, but nothing more. The doubters could not have been strengthened in their unbelief even by the consideration that on so remote a stage it was possible for an impostor to strut his little hour undiscovered, for he was always most anxious to meet everybody who came from Europe; and independently of the two gentlemen who had already recognised his person, a third, more recently arrived, recollected having seen him the year before at Venice. And the occasion was somewhat remarkable; for his highness, in a frolic, had broken in a shop glass articles to the amount of L.1500, which he afterwards paid for. Was it wonderful that so wild a youth had taken the fancy to come to Martinique? Wildnesses of this kind, however, were now over, for he was here in the school of the world. His European education had only been begun, though begun on a princely scale. He possessed a smattering of half-adozen different sciences; he spoke, though indifferently, several languages besides his own, and understood a very little Latin. His drawing was better than his writing; he was a capital horseman; and, more than all, notwithstanding his flightiness, he had a great fund of natural good sense and precision of thought. If to this we add the most absolute self-possession, and a serene tranquillity of manner which nothing could disturb, it will be felt that, both in his merits and defects, Hercules Renaud d'Est was every inch a prince. The prince wrote to his family; and the governor, on his part, despatched a messenger to Europe to relate the extraordinary circumstances that had occurred, and demand instructions as to how the Duke of Modena should be treated. Six months had flowed past, and no answer was received by either. The political crisis in the meantime had gone by, and the inhabitants of Martinique began to find the residence of their royal guest somewhat expensive. The prince himself, after having spent 50,000 crowns of the Penthièvre funds, at last grew weary of his adventure; and in another month he hoisted an admiral's flag in a merchant ship, and, saluted by the cannon of the fort, took his departure for Portugal, with all his household, an almoner, and the king's physician at the colony. Immediately on his back being turned, the longexpected courier arrived, bringing an order to the governor for the arrest of the stranger! By the same vessel the agent of the Duke de Penthièvre received a severe reprimand for his want of caution in allowing himself to be fleeced of so large a sum; the duke, however, in consideration of all the circumstances, retaining him in his employment, and consenting to share the loss. Both these communications were very extraordinary. The order for the arrest, after a delay of six months, and presented only when the prince had left the island, appeared to indicate that the whole affair had been nothing more than a youthful frolic; and this seemed so fully confirmed by the otherwise unaccountable good-nature of the duke, that public opinion ran stronger than ever in favour of the young knight-errant. This personage in due time arrived at Faro in Portugal, and was there received with a salute of artillery. On landing, he demanded to be provided with a courier, to send to his chargé d'affairs at Madrid, and likewise with the means of proceeding with his suite to Seville, where he intended to await the return of his messenger. All was complied with; and the prince, still living on borrowed funds, was the gayest of the gay, drinking, dancing, and making love so vehemently, that he became the envy of all the men, and the admiration of all the women. His entrance into Seville was like a triumph. The windows were crowded as he passed; the principal inhabitants waited upon him to pay their respects; and sumptuous entertainments were prepared for him; all of which he returned with a magnificence conformable to his rank. In the midst of this there came a new order for his arrest. The prince was astonished, the people indignant, and the women, more especially, furious. He had taken up his abode at the convent of the Dominicans, who protected him for some time, but at length, on the fermentation becoming serious, consented to deliver him up to the authorities, provided this could be done without bloodshed. One attempt to take him was defeated by the courage of the youth, who defended himself with his sword; but at length a burly monk, who was accustomed to wait upon him at table, clasped his arms round him one day as he sat at dinner, and held him till the alguazils, rushing into the room, took him prisoner. He was at first thrown into a dungeon, and strongly ironed; but the next day, for no reason that could be imagined-for he had haughtily refused to answer all interrogations- he was released from his irons, and lodged in the best apartment in the prison. The persons composing his retinue, however, were treated with less ceremony; they were examined regarding a supposed conspiracy to seize the island of Martinique, and banished from the dominions of Spain. The prince himself was ultimately condemned to the galleys. When the time came for his removal to Cadiz, it appears that apprehensions were entertained of a commotion in his favour. The whole garrison of Seville was under arms, and the prince, supported by the captain and lieutenant, entered a carriage drawn by six mules, and proceeded through the town between two ranks of infantry which lined the streets. Opinions were still divided as to his pretensions to the ducal throne, and bets to the amount of 60,000 piastres depended upon the question. The extraordinary thing was, that there came an order from the court to prohibit the laying of wagers and, more extraordinary still, the messengers sent off by those who had money at stake, to decide the whole matter by finding him whom they supposed to be the real duke, were unsuccessful. No Duke of Modena was to be found in Italy! Arrived at Cadiz, the prince was conducted to the fort of La Caragna, the commandant of which was instructed to treat him with politeness; and here he lived very comfortably for a time, busying himself in making such presents as the sale of his effects enabled him to afford, to those from whom he had received kindness in the course of his strange adventures. But the romance was at an end: the real Duke of Modena had been at length found; and our paladin, growing tired of a life without notoriety and without excitement, made his escape. Soon after this, the captain of a merchantman which had come to anchor in the roads of Gibraltar went on shore, and reported to the governor that he had on board the individual who was so well known by the title of the Prince of Modena. 'Let him beware of landing then,' replied the governor, or I shall apprehend him immediately!' The captain looked perplexed. He returned slowly to his ship, weighed anchor, and set sail; and with him disappeared for ever this singular young man, as completely as a bubble vanishes from the face of the sea. There are few of the monstrosities of romance which equal in wildness and improbability the above transcript from real life. The series of coincidences which favoured the imposture, and the numerous mistakes as to the personal identity of the hero, committed by persons who knew, or affected to know, the real prince, seem | little less than miraculous; while the moderation of the Duke de Penthièvre, and the tenderness exhibited by the court towards a convicted felon, throw around the whole story a romantic mystery, which, at this distance of time, it would be vain to attempt to pene trate. ARTIFICIAL COLD. SINCE the days of that dissipated heathen who, in order to cool the air during an oppressive summer, caused mountains of snow to be piled up, and suffered them to melt away, down to the present era, in which there prevails a rage for the thing, mankind has been incessantly in quest of refrigeratives. In those regions where ice and snow are found during winter, it became an easy expedient to store up such treasures of cold for use in warmer seasons; but where, if formed at all, they could only be of a momentary existence, it is manifest that some other means must be devised to supply the luxury of coldness to the noble and wealthy; and thus the art of artificial refrigeration-an art which has to boast of the elaborate researches of the ingenious Robert Boyle, and has occupied much of the consideration of other philosophers before and since-took its origin. We have already taken notice* of the now prevalent use and means of procuring beautiful ice for the table we shall here present a brief sketch of the history, and a short notice of the methods, of producing cold artificially. Cold, as a luxury, was far from being unknown to the ancients. The winter's snow or ice was rudely gathered up in heaps, or buried in pits, and covered with straw or chaff. But this was a wasteful, and grew to be an expensive method; and it became desirable to have ready means at every season, and independently of the accidents of the skies, for obtaining the same end. The simplest of these proceeded on the principle of loss of temperature, as a result of rapid evaporation. The Egyptians were accustomed to cool their water by placing it in earthen pitchers, the exterior of which was kept constantly wet by being sprinkled with water by slaves. It was the habit of one of their luxu *No. 173 of our current series. rious monarchs to have several servants for this office alone, whose duties were to expose the water to cool on the summit of the palace, and constantly supply the royal table with the beverage. Cooling pits were also dug in the earth, into which the water - vessels were placed during the daytime; the exterior being well soaked with water, and then surrounded with the fresh leaves of a vine or other plant, evaporation rapidly went on, and the liquid became most agreeably cool. Another method is said to be mentioned by Plutarch, which was by casting into the water a number of small stones, the agitation and consequent evaporation produced by which would probably exercise a slightly frigorific power over the water. It was probably an accidental observation of what could not have failed to have been an everyday occurrence, that led to the next improvement in this method of refrigeration. Many of the earthen vessels of the Egyptians are made of unglazed ware: water placed in one of these was found to be considerably cooler than when kept in other vessels; and the more open and porous the material, the more rapid the transudation of the water, and its evaporation from the surface of the jars, and the greater the degree of cold obtained. Water-vases were then formed for that purpose solely; and the invention, unaltered in principle, has come down with increasing usefulness to the present time. Illustrations of the second great chemical law-that liquefaction produces cold-next followed. For ages in India, it had been the practice to cool beverages in that burning climate by dissolving saltpetre in water. From India the practice made its way into Europe; and Beckmann states that a Spanish physician, Blarius Villa Franca, practising at Rome, first introduced this method of producing cold in Italy about the middle of the sixteenth century. It is related that wine, placed in this mixture, was cooled to a degree making it almost intolerable to the teeth; and this was a considerable step in the history of artificial cold. Other saline substances came into use, and pits were formed, into which, on the large scale, the water to be cooled was put in vessels, surrounded by the cooling mixture. Finally came the important discovery, that an intensely-freezing mixture was capable of being formed by mixing snow or ice, and salt, together. A celebrated physician electrified a large audience by exhibiting its effects upon a bottle of wine, which he actually froze into ice; and this new method of freezing water' is also mentioned by Lord Bacon. Such are the conditions under which this subject has been handed down to existing posterity. A little consideration of the processes described in this cursory sketch, of the chemical progress of the luxury, will show us that they are all reducible to the two axioms-that evaporation and liquefaction create cold. The philosophy of which facts is simply, that in the change of condition from a fluid to a vapour, and from a solid to a fluid, there is a change in the capacity for caloric. If a certain measure of water is to becomie vaporised, or if a certain weight of salt is to become a solution, these changes cannot occur without the water and the salt receiving an additional supply of heat, which is of course abstracted from all surrounding_bodies; and the abstraction of heat being an equivalent expression to the production of cold, we are brought back to the truths with which we commenced, and have seen how evaporation and liquefaction produce cold. Caloric disappears in both cases, and, burying itself among the particles of the new product, is said to have become latent. There are some facts connected with the production of artificial ice which deserve mention here. The congelation of water is materially promoted by rapid motion. Water has, in fact, been cooled, and yet remained quite fluid, many degrees below the temperature at which it generally becomes ice; but the moment a little movement was communicated to the liquid, instantly the temperature rose to 32 degrees, and the mass became ice, needle-like crystals flying through its substance in a most curious manner. This |