will Joubtless be removed by time, labour, and perseverance. The establishment of large bodies in the Himalaya would, at the present period, speedily exhaust the supplies. The whole of the land brought under cultivation is not more than sufficient for the support of the inhabitants, and from the nature of the country it will not be easy to extend the toils of the husbandman in any very considerable degree. The valleys, where water is readily procurable, are extremely narrow, and the sides of the hills too steep to admit of cultivation, except by means of terraces levelled with great labour, and supported by walls of solid masonry. These terraces, rising one above another, have a very singular effect, especially when the splendid flowers which distinguish some of the crops are in full bloom. The yellow and red bhattoo are particularly beautiful, being the Amaranthus anardhana of the English garden, and grow to an amazing height; in favourable situations the stems will reach to ten feet. The harvest is usually exceedingly plentiful, and as these terraces may be carried to the very summits of the hills, a spirit of enterprise and industry will in time, no doubt, render the Himalaya a country of corn, as well as of oil; wine also may easily be added, and it is delightful to contemplate the grow. ing prosperity of a place, which the hand of nature has so bountifully endowed, but whose very existence was scarcely known thirty years ago. The European residents have introduced the potato into the hills, and the mountaineers, though at first objecting to its use, have overcome their prejudices, and now cultivate it as an article of food: it thrives abundantly, and is in much esteem all over India. Of the three European stations which have arisen on the hills, Simlah appears to be the greatest favourite. Many Anglo-Indians have built houses, in Il which they either reside in themselves during the not weather, or let at a very fair profit to visitors. The nature of the country will not allow of much regularity in the buildings, which at Simlah lie along a rather narrow ridge, every bit of table-land or gentle slope being eagerly seized upon for the site of a dwelling-house. Architectural beauty has not yet been much considered, but the houses are constructed upon scientific principles by able engineers, and they are solid enough to withstand the snows and tempests of the wintry season. The materials are stone, joined together without mortar, and strengthened by beams of pine wood, placed horizontally at about two feet distant from each other, and neatly dove-tailed at the angles: the roofs are sometimes of shingles, and at others of slate, or a well-tempered clay of a deep red colour, which, when sufficiently beaten, is not liable to be penetrated by the rain, or cracked by exposure to a hot sun. The interiors have not yet at. tained any great degree of elegance, but this will come in time. The visitants were at first but too happy to obtain a shelter from the elements, to trouble themselves about very superior accommodation, and in the crowded state of this desirable refuge, many were glad to obtain possession of a single chamber in the attic story, in a which a wooden ladder served the purpose of a stair, and which was shared by strong bodies of rats, animals always showing a predilection to domesticate with the human race. The first specimens of taste which appeared at Simlah were exhibited in the formation of gardens; and though cabbages, and other useful rather than ornamental vegetables were admitted, they were surrounded by parterres of flowers, the latter being raised from seeds brought from the plains, or reclaimed from their wild state, in which they grow in the greatest abundance. Their beauty has been much improved by cultivation; and their removal to more favourable aspects, and similar care taken with the fruit trees, which are equally abundant, would greatly increase the gratification of those persons who love to indulge in the luxuries of the orchard. The scattered bungalows of Simlah, with their constant accompaniments of native bazaars, are perched upon dizzy heights, looking down upon deep vallies darkly clothed with pine; the natives choose more sheltered situations for their huts, many of which resemble the chalets of Switzerland. The roads are very steep and narrow, and not at all suited to wheelcarriages, none of which have yet found their way to this alpine region. The usual mode of conveyance is on horseback, the mountain ponies being the most trustworthy steeds, or in a tonjaun; but as there are not more than five miles of passable road, and the climate renders walking exercise very desirable, both horses and vehicles may be easily dispensed with. It is impossible to do justice to the beauty and splendour of the scenery; and the effect produced by the pure cold air upon the minds of those who have suffered from the exhaustion of the plains, is indescribable. The presence of European vegetation adds considerably to the charm which nature has thrown around these sublime solitudes; the daisy and primrose enamelling the ground, the rich rhododendron mingling with oaks and firs, and the dog-rose spreading its bushes over the valleys, or hanging its garlands upon every bough, bring the liveliest recollections of home to those whose lot has been cast upon a foreign shore. The indulgence of a passion for prospects has, however, in one or two instances, been attended with fatal consequences; several narrow escapes have been recorded, and some serious accidents have arisen from the precipitous nature of the roads: the grass-rope bridges of the Himalaya are also rather dangerous, and are not always to be passed with impunity. The possession of so large a portion of the Himalaya seems so extraordinary, that we can scarcely credit the possibility of our having become masters of a territory, which, half a century ago, nobody dreamed of ever reaching; but having established ourselves in these hills, we may indulge in the hope of obtaining a permanent footing in a still more desirable region. Kanour, or Kunawur, a province stretching between the snowy range and Chinese Tartary, is the most delightful place which the pen of the traveller has ever attempted to describe. The climate is the finest in the world, being beyond the reach of the periodical rains, and subjected only to such gentle and refreshing showers as are necessary for the cultivation of the land. The fruits and flowers of all countries in the world flourish in this happy soil; those of Europe are indigenous, and come to perfection with little care. The grape, especially, grows in the most luxuriant abundance, and it is from this province that the whole of India might be supplied with wine. Honey also is exceedingly plentiful, and both form great temptations to marauding bears. These animals are very destructive to the vineyards and the hives, and the natives tell strange stories of the cunning with which they contrive to possess themselves of the luscious treasures of the bees, even breaking into the houses in pursuit of their favourite food. The tourists of the Himalaya are both surprised and delighted by the beauty of the temples which are scattered throughout the wildest regions, and are much superior in their architecture and embellishments to the houses. They are under the care of the Brahmins, who have lands upon the condition of keeping them in good repair. The axe and the chisel are the only implements for carving which the mountaineers possess, but ingenuity makes up for the absence of proper tools. There are two couchant bullocks of black marble, as large as life, at the temple of Lakha Mundul, which are very creditable specimens of art. These, however, are said to be very ancient, the modern deities in use in the pagodas being chiefly brass busts, oddly enough furnished with petticoats. The hill people have not quite the same objection to the sale of their gods, as that which they manifest when urged to part with articles of more utility; and there is one superfluity which they are exceedingly willing to get rid of at a moderate price-namely, their women. It is no uncommon circumstance for a European, who asks for grain, to be offered a daughter, females being of no value and no account in these regions." STORIES OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. "EMERGING soon from the beautiful environs of Lexington, Kentucky (says Hoffman, in his work already quoted), we rode for an hour or two through narrow roads, where the moist rich soil was fetlock-deep for our horses. But the enclosures, which were generally shut in by a worm-fence on either side, were exceedingly beautiful; and the woodland and arable were so intermixed, that the tall and taper trees of the former, now ranging in open avenues along a hill-side, and now disposed in clumps upon the meadows, as if set there by the eye of taste, produced the impression of riding through a magnificent park, whose verdant swells and embowered glades had been only here and there invaded and marred by the formal fences drawn through them. The Sunset found us upon the banks of the Elkhorn, and we crossed the stream near 'Bryant's Station,' one of the most celebrated spots in the annals of 'the Dark and Bloody Ground.' The stockade fort that once stood here was frequently a refuge from the savages in the early settlement of the adjacent country; and its gallant defence by a handful of pioneers against the allied Indians of Ohio, led on by the white renegadoes Girty and M‘Kee, was one of the most desperate affairs in the Indian wars of the west. enemy banded together at the forks of the Scioto, and planned their attack in the deep forests, a hundred miles away from the scene where it was made. The pioneers had not the slightest idea of their approach, when, sudden as the grove of spears that sprung from the dragon's teeth in classic land, a thousand rifles gleamed in the corn-fields one summer's night. That very evening the garrison had chanced to gather under arms to march to the relief of another station' that was similarly invested. It was a fearful moment: an hour earlier, and the pioneers would have been cut off an hour later, and their defenceless wives and daughters must have been butchered or carried into captivity, while their natural protectors were hurrying to the rescue of others. The Indians saw at a glance that the moment was not propitious to them; and having failed in surprising the Kentuckians, they attempted to decoy them from their fastness, by presenting themselves in small parties before it. The whites were too wise to risk a battle, but they knew not how to stand a siege. The fort,' which was merely a collection of log-cabins arranged in a hollow square, was unhappily not supplied with water. They were aware that the attacking party knew this; they were aware, too, that their real force lay in ambush near a neighbouring spring, with the hope of cutting off those who should come to remedy the deficiency. But the sagacity of a backwoodsman is sometimes more than a match for the cunning of an Indian, and the heroism of a woman may baffle the address of a warrior. The females of the station determined to supply it with water from this very spring! But how? Woman's wit never devised a bolder expedi ent-woman's fortitude never carried one more hazardous into successful execution. They reasoned thus: The water must be had. The women are in the habit of going for it every morning. If armed men now take that duty upon them, the Indians will think that their ambuscade is discovered, and instantly commence their assault. If the women draw the wa ter as usual, the Indians will not unmask their concealed force, but still persevere in attempting to decoy the defenders of the station without its pickets. The feint succeeded; the random-shots of the decoy party were returned with a quick fire from one side of the fort, while the women issued from the other, as if they apprehended no enemy in that quarter. Could aught be more appalling than the task before them? But they shrink not from it; they move carelessly from the gate-they advance with composure in a body to the spring-they are within point-blank shot of five hundred warriors. The slightest trepidation will betray them-the least apparent consciousness of their thrilling situation, and their doom is inevitable. But their nerves do not shrink; they wait calmly for each other until each fills her bucket in succession. The Indians are completely deceived, and not a shot is fired. The band of heroines retrace their steps with steady feet-their movement soon becomes more agi. tated it is at last precipitate. But tradition says that the only water spilt was as their buckets crowded together in passing the gate. A sheet of living fire from the garrison, and the screams of the wounded Indians around the spring told that they were safe, and spoke the triumph of their friends. Insane with wrath to be thus outwitted, the foe rushed from his covert, and advanced with desperation upon the rifles of the pioneers. But who could conquer the fathers and brothers of such women? The Indians were foiled; they withdrew their forces; but on counting the number of their slain, they burned with vengeance, and rallied once more to the fight. They were again and again repulsed. Succour at last came to the pioneers, and the savages were compelled to retreat to their wild-wood haunts once more.' The author afterwards, in travelling through Western Virginia, had occasion to become acquainted with a story of a much more tragical nature, illustrative of the former condition of the country. "Some ten or twelve miles from the Tunnel (says he), I stopped to dine with a cottager, whose establishment and reception were both marked by that union of poverty and politeness which characterises the lower classes of Western Virginians. He had nothing, he said, for me to eat, but I was welcome to what he had, if I could dine in a room with half-a-dozen sick children. 'Bacon and greens,' as usual, was the dinner; and my host poured me out a good cup of coffee, while his wife was stilling the cries of an infant in her arms, and ministering to the wants of several little sufferers, on a trundle-bed, in one corner of the apartment. The good man told me that this was the only illness with which his household had ever been visited; and as these are the only relations I have,' he added, 'I feel some concern to get them all upon their feet again; for I want to raise the whole of them.' In further conversation I found that the illness with which this family was afflicted was the scarlet fever, which, with the measles and other similar complaints, seems to make up the brief list of diseases that find their way into this healthy region. The father of my host, as I was informed, who was a middle-aged man, had been among the early settlers of this mountain region; and the fact of his being now without any blood relations, except those collected around his own hearth, arose from all his kindred having perished in different border frays, many years since. His father's family had been cut off at a blow, while he was yet a child; and the story of their fate was to this effect: It was the season for gathering peaches, and drying them for winter use; and some of the early dwellers in these fertile vallies had already spread the sliced fruit on the sheds of their outhouses, to be acted upon by the declining but still ardent sun of summer. A clump of trees, richly laden with peaches, stood upon a knoll near the edge of the forest, and within a few hundred yards of the cabin of a settler. The owner of the cabin was away from home, and his eldest son had been sent over the hills upon some distant errand; while the mother of the family, with another son and a daughter, were left to the care of an uncle of the children. They were all, one quiet August evening, collected around the hillock already mentioned; some were employed in stripping the trees of their prolific burthen, and some in filling their baskets with the balmy fruit, as it lay scattered upon the ground. The little girl had partly climbed a tree, and was engaged in handing the peaches within reach to her mother; the boy stood thrashing the drooping boughs by the side of his parent; but the uncle was separated from the group, while filling his basket from the ground on the other side of the knoll. As he stooped to pick up the fruit, a shot, a scream, and a bullet whistling over his head, told him, in a moment, that the dreaded savages were upon them. He looked, and the girl had tumbled from the tree, like a bird from a bough, upon the bosom of her mother. The sight of his agonised sister struck horror to the heart of the pioneer; but his experience of such scenes suggested, that, all unarmed as he was, he must abandon her to the ryhme at the end. We conclude by expressing IMPROVEMENT FROM BOTANICAL PURSUITS. her fate, and seek revenge hereafter, or be butchered, heir." WAS SHAKSPEARE EVER IN SCOTLAND? In September 1830, the conductor of an Edinburgh newspaper received a communication, signed "J. Donaldson," and dated from "Allonhill;" in which advice was asked respecting the disposal of a quantity of old papers, chiefly letters, represented as having been left by a Mr Hardie, writer in Edinburgh, and enclosing one of these as a specimen, with permission to publish it. The enclosure being the copy of a letter apparently written by Ben Jonson during his Scottish tour, and in which an allusion was made to Shakspeare having acted in Edinburgh, the editor thought it his duty, among his notices to correspondents, to ask for some voucher of its authenticity, with the view of presenting it to the world. In the course of a few days he received a second letter from Mr Donaldson, referring him for a guarantee of his honour to a professional gentleman resident in Bathgate, with whom the editor was acquainted. On inquiry, however, this gentleman could not remember any such individual as was described to him, and, from that time to the present, the matter has remained in a state of dubiety. The fact in question is nevertheless of so much importance, that, happening to possess a copy of the letter ascribed to Jonson, we have resolved to publish it in this place, with the hope of its attracting the attention of Mr Donaldson, if there be such a person, or any other who may be able to throw light upon it. It is as follows :— "Master vill, So give him the play, From my lodging in the canongait, Mrch the twelft, 1619. To my very good friend, the lairde of Hawthorn-den-Yese." The individual to whom the letter appears to have been addressed was the celebrated Drummond of Haw. thornden, to visit whom was the chief object of Jonson's pilgrimage to Scotland, and with whom he spent some time at Hawthornden. The interlude of Philotas was produced some time before Shakspeare's supposed visit, but its author has hitherto been unknown to Scottish antiquaries. It may be added, that the diction of the letter appears characteristic, particularly the number of useful vegetables, useful to man, is Systematic botany has no very alluring aspect to a Initiation into this, as into all other sciences, is laborious; stepping over the threshold is a kind of mental drudgery, and is in fact the most irksome part of the undertaking; but when the student is fairly within the pale, the different avenues into the interior and more occult regions of the science are opened up; those thick clouds of difficulty which timidity or indolence had formed, are soon dispersed, and the student finds himself in an open expanse-in a new world, where he finds a thousand new objects which he can name at first sight. When this much is attained, the study becomes every day more and more interesting; every new plant is sought and examined with avidity: research is no longer toil; on the contrary, such investigation becomes delightful exercise, yielding positive pleasure; while every accession to the previous stock of knowledge is attended by fresh gratification. The amateur botanist proceeding in this way soon acquires a competent knowledge of this pleasing science; he gradually becomes cognisant of the greater features, and gains such an insight into the details as dispels every obscurity which he thought he saw before him on his first entrance on the study. And when this much is accomplished, he enjoys every satisfaction that can arise from the knowledge of one of the most interesting branches of natural history, and which, moreover, is a necessary accomplishment of every well-educated mind. To ladies particularly, and to the young of both sexes, the study of botany is a most agreeable exercise and amusement. Flowering plants always claim the regard of the young, of refined minds; and none are more enthusiastic lovers of fine plants than the aged botanist. For the pencil of the female artist, where can such elegance of form and delicacy of colour be embellish the dwellings of the rich, or cottages of the found for imitation as in the parterre? or what can poor, more than the floral products of the garden? Many are lovers of flowers who are not at the same time botanists. This feeling is as innocent as it is rational; it is a source of pleasure, but only in a subordinate degree to that enjoyed by those who to their love of flowers add scientific knowledge; who not only know the name, but can tell to what class or tribe the plant belongs-whether native or foreignwhether sanatory or noxious. No portion of human lore in natural phenomena yields more gratification to the well-constituted mind than a scientific knowledge of plants. a To be a practical or professional botanist requires long lifetime of close application and study. To store in memory nearly one hundred thousand names requires a power of retention enjoyed by few; and to nomenclature must be added a knowledge of the history of plants-their natural habitat as well as their culture without an intimate acquaintance with these things no one can be a practical botanist. In fine, in this improving age we have every resson to believe that no obstruction to the acquirement of pure botanical science will long remain in the way to impede the progress of the careful student. Every approach will be rendered open and every path made easy and inviting by those masters who are now so deservedly at the head of the science. It may be added, that those who have no intention of aspiring to be scientific botanists, may yet devote their leisure hours to a kind of botanising with great advantage and pleasure to themselves, if they have ever so small a piece of ground; or if wanting that, a herbarium, requiring only a few sheets of brown paper, will supply an endless source of amusement and instruction. By filling this receptacle with the com monest flowers, they may gain a very clear insight into systematic botany by merely putting together every flower they meet with, whether the names be known or not, according to its general character. For instance, collect all the bell-shaped flowers (campanula) and place them together; do the same with the funnel-shaped (bindweed), the masked (snap-dralock), the rose-shaped (poppy), the lily-like (daffodil), gon), the lipped (dead nettle), the cross-shaped (charthe butterfly-shaped (broom), the compound (daisy), and so forth. Even such an attempt as this would be a pleasing and rational employment; a valuable first step to a better and more refined knowledge of plants; which might be exercised in every walk into the garden, or in every ramble in the fields." THE DEEPEST MINE IN GREAT BRITAIN. FROM experiments made by geologists, there is every reason to suppose that the internal parts of the globe are in a state of extreme heat, if not fluid ignition, and that this arises from the combination of oxygen gas with the metals which form the bases of the earths and alkalis. To no other cause can be traced the existence of volcanic fires, hot-water springs, and other remarkable phenomena connected with the body of the earth. The internal heat of the globe increases in intensity according to the depth we penetrate from the surface, also the nature of the strata through which the perforations are made. In illustration or this interesting subject of geological inquiry, the Durham Advertiser newspaper, some months ago, presented the following account of the shafts of certain collieries in the north of England, and the experi ments made to determine the degrees of heat at various depths in the mines. "The shaft at present sinking at Monk wearmouth colliery, near Sunderland, has attained a considerably greater depth than any mine in Great Britain (or, estimating its depth from the level of the sea, than any mine in the world). Pearce's shaft, at the Consolidated mine in Cornwall, was till lately the deepest in the íaland, being about 1470 feet in perpendicular depth, of which 1150 feet are below the surface of the sea. The bottom of Woolf's shaft (also at the Consol dated mines) is 1230 feet below the sea; but its total depth is less than that of Pearce's shaft. The bottom of the Monkwearmouth shaft is already upwards of 1500 feet below high-water mark, and 1600 feet below the surface of the ground. It was commenced in May 1826. The upper part of the shaft passes through the lower magnesian limestone strata which overlap the southeastern district of the great Newcastle coal-field, and which, including a stratum of freestone sand,' at the bottom of the limestone, extended at Monkwearmouth to the thickness of three hundred and thirty feet, and discharged, towards the bottom of the strata, the prodigious quantity of 3000 gallons of water per minute-for the raising of which into an off-take drift, a double-acting steam-engine, working with a power of from 180 to 200 horses, was found necessary. The first unequivocal stratum of the coal formation, viz. & bed of coal 14 inches thick, was not reached till August 1831 (being about 344 feet below the surface), after which the tremendous influx of water which had so long impeded the sinking operations, was stopped back' by a cylindrical metal tubing' or casting, fitted (in a series of small portions) to the shaft, and extending from below the above bed of coal to within twenty-six yards of the surface. The sinking now proceeded with spirit-still no valuable bed of coal was reached, although the shaft had passed consider- | ably above 600 feet into the coal measures, and much deeper than had hitherto been found requisite for reaching some of the known seams. It became evident that the miners were in unknown ground. A new 'feeder of water' was encountered at the great depth of 1000 feet, requiring fresh pumps and a fresh | outlay of money. The prospects of the owners became unpromising in the eyes of most men, and were denounced as hopeless by many of the coal-viewers. Coal-viewing, however, had as yet been limited to some 200 or 220 fathoms; and the views of the Messrs Pemberton (the enterprising owners of this colliery) were not to be bounded by such ordinary depths; they considered rightly that the thickness of the coal formation might be vastly greater where protected by the superincumbent limestone, than where exposed to those denudations which in the neighbourhood of the 'rise' collieries had probably swept away the strata through which their own shaft had hitherto been sunk; that they were, therefore, justified in anticipating the larger and known seams at greater depths; and that, in case the larger seams had (as was intimated) been split into smaller strata, the same causes which in other places had produced their subdivision, might, at Monk wearmouth, have effected their junction. They continued, therefore, their sinking, and in October last reached a seam of considerable value and thickness, at the depth of 1578 feet below the surface; and presuming that this newly discovered seam was identified with the Bensham seam of the Tyne (or Maudlin seam of the Wear), they are rapidly deepening their shaft, in anticipation of reaching the Hutton or most valuable seam at no distant period; but which (if their anticipations are well founded) will be found at a depth approaching 300 fathoms from the surface! In the mean time, however, workings have very recently commenced in the supposed Bensham seam. A party of scientific gentlemen descended into these workings, and, aided by every facility and assistance which could be afforded to them by the Messrs Pemberton, made several barometric and thermometric observations, the detail of which will be deeply interesting to many of our readers. A barometer at the top of the shaft (87 feet above high-water mark) stood at 30.518, its attached thermometer (Fahrenheit) being 53. On being carried down to the new work. ings (1584 feet below the top) it stood at 32.280, and in all probability higher than ever before seen by human eye; the attached thermometer being 58. Four workings or drifts had been commenced in the coal; the longest of them, being that 'to the dip,' 22 yards in length and nearly 2 in breadth-to the end of which the current of fresh air for ventilating the mine was diverted (and from which the pitmen employed in its excavation had just departed)-was selected for the following thermometric observations. Temperature of the current of air near the entrance of the drift, 62 (Fahrenheit); near the end of the drift, 63; close to the face or extremity of the drift and beyond the current of air, C8. A piece of coal was hewn from the face; and two thermometers, placed in the spot just before occupied by the coal (their bulbs being instantly covered with coal dust), rose to 71. A small pool of water was standing at the end of the drift. Temperature of this water at 11 o'clock, 70; three hours later, 69. A register thermometer was buried 18 inches deep below the floor, and about 10 yards from the entrance of the drift; forty minutes afterwards its maximum temperature was 67. Another register thermo. meter was similarly buried near the end of the drift, and after a similar period indicated a maximum temperature of 70. It was then placed in a deeper hole and covered with small coal; some water oozed out of the side of this hole to the depth of six or eight inches above the thermometer, which, upon being examined after a sufficient interval of time, indicated a temperature of 714. A stream of gas bubbles (igniting with the flame of a candle) issued through the water col. lected in this hole: the bulbs of two very sensible thermometers were immersed under water in this stream of gas, and indicated a temperature constantly A thermometer was varying between 71.5 and 72.6. lowered to the bottom of a hole drilled to the depth of 2 feet on the floor of another of the workings, and the atmospheric air excluded from it by a tight stopping of clay; the thermometer being raised, after a lapse of forty-eight hours, stood at 71.2. The above observations will accord with the prevailing [and certainly well.grounded] opinion, that the temperature of the earth increases with the depth from the surface. It must not, however, le forgotten that causes may be assigned for an increase of temperature in this and other coal mines, independently of the presumed subterranean heat. Those who are familiar with coal mines must have frequently witnessed the effects of the enormous pressure of the superincumbent strata; and a weight of 25,000 or 30,000 tons, which had lately reposed upon the coal hitherto occupying the drift above described, had suddenly been transferred to the coal situate on the sides of this drift. Hence those constant indications of tremendous pressure the cracking of the sides and roof, the heaving of the floor,' and the crumbling of their materials, furnishing admission of air and water to innumerable fragments of shale, coal, and pyrites-circumstances which are abundantly calculated to occasion an increase of temperature, both by mechanical compression and chemical decomposition, although wholly inadequate, as we conceive, to the generation of the temperature recorded above; and the presence and the lights of the pitmen were obviously inoperative in producing the effects remarked. Other experiments, however, in the prosecution of these inquiries, are, with the obliging permission of the owners, contemplated at Monkwearmouth colliery; and amongst the minor advan tages arising from their magnificent undertaking, will doubtless be the solution of any remaining doubts of the existence of considerable subterranean heat at accessible depths beneath the surface of the earth.” SCOTTISH COMIC SONGS, THE ANCIENT MAIDEN. [We have been assured, by competent authority, that this song, intensely humorous as it is, was the production of a young clergyman of one of the dissenting persuasions.] Oh dear, I am now thirty-six, Though some rather mair wad me ca'; Lang sighs frae my bosom I draw; No to be married ava; Their husbands will let them gang braw, Some wives that are wasters o' men, Wear dune naething less than their twa; No to be married, &c. Their necks every ane I could thraw, No to be married, &c. Although he were never sae sma', Though scarce like a mannie ava. No to be married, &c. LEGAL PHRASEOLOGY.-The following happy pa. rody on the verboseness of legal phraseology, occurs in a work just published, entitled ، The Mechanics of Law-Making:"-" If a man would, according to law, give to another an orange, instead of saying, I give you that orange,' which one should think would be what is called, in legal phraseology, an absolute conveyance of all right and title therein,' the phrase would run thus I give you all and singular my estate and interest, right, title, claim, and advantage of and in that orange, with all its rind, skin, juice, pulp, and pips, and all right and advantage therein, with full power to bite, eut, suck, and otherwise eat the same, or give the same away, as fully and effectually as I, the said A. B., am now entitled to bite, cut, suck, or otherwise eat the same orange, or give the same away, with or without its rind, skin, juice, pulp, and pips, any thing hereinbefore, or hereinafter, or in any other deed or deeds, instrument or instruments, of what nature or kind soever, to the contrary in any wise, notwithstanding;' with much more to the same effect. Such is the language of lawyers; and it is very gravely held by the most learned men among them, that by the omission of any of these words, the right to the said orange would not pass to the person for whose use the same was intended." HOW TO KEEP A COW AND PIG UPON AN ACRE OF 1. Never let the cow out of the cow-house. 2. Carry her food and water to her. 3. Do not keep one foot of land in pasture. 4. Dig your land instead of ploughing it. 5. Never throw away any thing that can be turned into manure. 6. Keep your land well weeded, and collect a large dunghill. A small cow, which is best for a cottager, will eat from seventy to eighty pounds of good moist food of the following kinds in a day: Lucern or clover, and the leaves of yellow beet or mangel wurzel, from the beginning of spring to the end of autumn; and the roots of yellow beet or mangel wurzel, Swedish turnips, potatoes, and straw, from the end of autumn till the beginning of spring. If the cow is curried once a-day, it will increase the quantity of milk. To procure the above-mentioned crops, you must have plenty of manure, which you will obtain by careful management. Rushes, potato-stalks, and weeds before they seed, should be industriously collected for the cow's litter. LUCERN requires a good and deep soil. The ground for it should be well dug, two spits deep, and the manure deposited at one spit deep. It must be sown very early in the spring, in drills nine inches apart. The quantity of seed, one ounce and a quarter to the perch. It must be kept carefully free from weeds, and watered with the liquid manure from time to time; ashes also are a good manure for it. It some. times admits of four cuttings in the summer, and with attention to the foregoing rules will continue productive for ten or twelve years. It will not do well upon shallow or boggy land, in which case red clover will be the substitute. SWEDISH TURNIPS.-Prepare the land as if for drilling potatoes, open the drills about twenty inches distant, the deeper the better; fill them with manure, cover them with four or five inches of earth, make the top smooth and level, then with a dibble make holes two inches in depth, and about twelve inches apart, and drop a seed into every hole. Keep them free from weeds. Three-quarters of a pound of seed will sow twenty perches. The time for sowing is in May. MANGEL WURZEL, OR YELLOW BEET.-The ground to be prepared the same way as for Swedish turnips; from the 20th to the end of April is the best time for sowing; half a pound of seed will sow twenty perches. In August and September pull the leaves for the cow; these will last till you take up and store the roots, which should be done before the frost sets in. RED CLOVER (to be used only where lucern will not suit the soil) will afford a large quantity of green food as well as hay from ten square perches. It will last from two or three years on the same ground; one ounce and a quarter of seed is sufficient for a perch. The ground should be well and deeply dug, and made as fine as possible. The time of sowing is from February till April. The seed put in immediately af. ter you have sown your oats half an inch deep in clayey soils, and one inch on loose soils; a coat of manure should be put on in spring and autumn. It may be cut two or three times in the season, and should not be given to the cow till it has been cut some hours, or she would be in danger of bursting. Some dry food should be given with the roots. The daily supply for a cow for the winter (about 180 days) may be as follows:-30 lbs. of mangel wurzel, or yel. low beet-30 lbs. of Swedish turnips-14 lbs. of straw. -Labourers' Friend Magazine.-[We have not room to insert the diagrams which follow, pointing out the rotation of crops to accomplish the above purposes. It may, however, be sufficient to state, that, supposing the land of the peasant to consist of four roods, in the first year he devotes a rood for oats, a second rood to potatoes, a third to lucern, and a fourth to beet and Swedish turnips; in the second year he puts potatoes on the first rood, beet and turnips on the second, lucern on the third, and oats on the fourth; in the third year he puts beet and turnips on the first, oats on the second, lucern on the third, and potatoes on the fourth. By this means he effects a proper rota tion of cropping, advantageous in keeping his land in heart. It will be easy for him to devote spare borders to the raising of onions and seeds. ] LONDON: Published, with Permission of the Proprietors, by ORE & SMITH, Paternoster Row; and sold by G. BERGER, Holywell Street, Strand; BANCKS & Co., Manchester: WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham: WILLMER & SMITH, Liverpool: W. E. SOMERSCALE, Leeds; C. N. WRIGHT, Nottingham; M. BINGHAM, Bristol; S. SIMMS, Bath; C. GAIN, Exeter; J. PURDON, Hull; A. WHITTAKER, Sheffield; H. BELLERBY, York; J. TAYLOR, Brighton; GEORGE YOUNG, Dublin; and all other Booksellers and Newsmen in Great Britain and Ireland, Canada, Nova Scotia, and United States of America. Complete sets of the work from its commencement, or numbers to complete sets, may at all times be obtained from the Publishers or their Agents. Stereotyped by A. Kirkwood, Edinburgh. Printed by Bradbury and Evans (late T. Davison), Whitefriars. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "THE BOOK OF SCOTLAND," &c., AND BY ROBERT CHAMBERS, No. 182. SETS. ous substance, is divided into many sets, which a This partiality in the distribution of our affections IN visiting the houses of friends, whether at noon or dewy eve, whether by general or particular invitation, the repetition of the same company is an almost unfailing subject of remark. At each particular house you are sure to meet individuals whom you never see any where else, and who, from their being always there when you happen to be there, you would suppose to be constant inmates of the establishment, if a little reflection did not inform you, that, from your being always there when they are there, they must be apt to make the very same remark respecting yourself. Are you a youth not yet disentangled from albums, kid gloves, and quadrilles, and occasionally asked to hand kettles and cake, to be followed up by a dance, at the house of your good kind friends the Thomsons?-there do you for certain meet the Mister Blairs, and the Miss Oliphants, and cheerful old uncle John, and worthy Mrs Somerville, who never tires of playing the piano to the young people. Are you a solid bachelor, and occasionally help to demolish a "jigot" at your friend Beatson's ?-there for certain do you find his dull "confessor" Andrews, a fellow who has no recommendation in your eyes besides that of an appearance of good humour, and to whom accordingly you are surprised to find Beatson so much devoted. Are you a married man, and go out with your lady to perform at the solemn dinnerparties of your friends?-with the Smiths are you not sure to find the Smithsons ?-at the Clerks', don't you for ever meet the Beauclerks ?-with the Kirks, don't you invariably encounter the Kirkhams and the Kirkmans? Nay, with hardly an exception, is not the company now assembled just the same as it was last year, and the year before, and all the previous years, ever since you began to take parts in the ceremonial? We sometimes amuse ourselves by tracing the opeThis system, however irksome and ridiculous, may ration of sets in the literary world. Two or three be in some measure a necessary result of circumstances authors, of high merit, and perhaps little connected with which no fault can be found; but it is associated with political parties, have the good fortune to be noin our mind with one of the most unfortunate pecu- ticed and praised by all; but for the great majority, liarities of the present state of society. Our world, including no small portion of the talent of the counit would appear, little as it looks when compared with try, there is no panegyric, perhaps not even notice, the innumerable masses pervading space, is so big in from any except the party or set to which they belong.. respect of the human faculties, that single minds are These, however, give it so liberally, that, if density unable to grasp it. We have therefore had to break could in all cases make up for want of extent, there it down into districts, each of which is peopled by a would be little cause of complaint. Almost every pepeculiar race, very anxious for its own interest, and riodical work which admits of criticisms, has its faconsiderably disposed to fall by the ears with its neigh-vourites, whom it is always extolling, or at least bours on questions of honour and profit. Nations again are in some cases subdivided into what are called "Interests," all of which are alike set upon their own exclusive advantage; or into Ranks, which perhaps confine themselves to a hearty contempt for each other; or into Sects or Factions, which indulge in presuming of each other all the evil they can respectively imagine. But even this extent of dividing and sub. dividing does not satisfy mankind. National sympa. thies, party sympathies, and commercial sympathies, are all of them a world too wide for the hearts of most men, as hearts are at present constituted; and a necessity has been found for still narrower circles, in which to indulge our sentiments of attachment and benevolence. We accordingly concrete into Sels little parcels of people, bounded by locality, age, equality of condition, community of opinion on some leading subject, or by all of these together. Society, thus composed, may be likened to that curious chain of eccentric and converging circles which we sometimes see running round the cornices of a room. Each has some point of adhesion to its neighbour, but for the most part stands distinct from the rest. tropolitan fashionable world, which, like a nebula in the heavens, appears to inferior eyes as a homogene The me alluding to; while others, the favourites of rival or even in some degree brilliant writers. Such persons have acquired these views, not only without the aid of education, but in despite of it, a different kind of teaching could not fail materially to accelerate the desired end. That such will in time be universally established, and that mankind will, under its influ ence, become but one large and affectionate family, is therefore not only our wish and hope, but our confi. dent expectation. CANALS IN THE UNITED STATES. [A work, entitled "A Statistical View of the United States, by Timothy Pitkin" (1 vol. 8vo., Newhaven, Connecticut, 1835), has just been sent to us from America; and with the view of presenting our readers with some correct information on an extremely interesting subject, namely, the extent to which the establishment of canals and inland navigation has been carried in the United States, we have condensed the elaborate details of the author on that important statistical topic into the following article:-] THE internal improvement of the United States, by means of canals and railways, has, since 1815, advanced with a rapidity surpassing that of any other nation. Most of the canals on the continent of Europe have been constructed at the expense of governments in England, chiefly at the expense of individuals or joint stock companies-and in the United States they have been made by states and by individuals. In es tablishing canals in the States, two principal objects have been kept in view-one to make a safer water inland communication along the Atlantic border, in case of a war with any nation whose maritime force might exceed that of the States; another and very important object has been to connect the waters of the intercourse between these two distant sections of the west with those of the east, and thereby facilitate the country. The western country, as it is called, includes the states of Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, the territory of Michigan, and the portions of Pennsylvania and Virginia, which lie beyond the Alleghany Mountains. In 1790, the whole population of this country was only 237,000, and in 1830 it had increased to 3,264.000; at present it is calculated to be between 4,000,000 and 5,000,000. borders: the population of Albany rose from 15,000 Such are a few of the wonderful results of this stu- This population extends over a vast region, unrivalled wheat, 147,766 bushels of corn, 507,374 lbs. of butter in the extent and magnitude of its navigable waters and cheese, 10,428 lbs. of beef and pork, 200,508 lbs. of lard and tallow, 351,212 bushels of salt (made at (the principal of which the Mississippi), as well as salt springs in the interior), 4,017,362 lbs. of provithe fertility of its soil. The exports of the surplus sions, 2,411,969 lbs. of wool, 217,255 lbs. of cotton, produce of the western country consist of cotton, to646,460 gallons of whisky, 8,667,412 lbs. of tobacco, bacco, flour, wheat, pork, beef, hams, live cattle, iron, 17,681,540 lbs. of iron (Pittsburgh being an iron disglass, candles, beer, whisky, cordage, bagging, and Other canals of minor importance have also been trict), 291,281 feet of timber, and 4,403,443 feet of sawed deals or lumber, besides other commodities. These are many other commodities. An idea of the amount of constructed at the expense of the state. Pennsylvania now possesses several canals of lesser these exports may be gathered, when we mention, that, the Oswego Canal, extending from Salina to Lake Onnote: the principal are the Unión Canal, connecting in 1832, those of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Ohio, tario, connecting that lake with Lake Erie, a disthe Schuylkill and the Susquehana, a distance of 80 were to the value of nearly D.22,000,000 (dollars). tance of 38 miles; expense of construction D.525,115. miles; and the Lehigh Canal, extending from Easton on the Delaware, to the celebrated coal mines at Mauch (The exports of the town of Cincinnati alone, in 1833, Cayuga and Seneca Canal, from Geneva on the Seneca The whole extent of were valued at D.5,000,000.) Altogether, the value Lake, to Montezuma on the Erie Canal, a distance Chunk, a distance of 46 miles. canal navigation in this state in 1834 was estimated at of the exports of the western country was, in 1834, of 20 miles; expense D.214,000. Chemung Canal, from 861 miles, and the cost of the same at D.23,000,000. computed to be from D.28,000,000 to D.30,000,000; the head waters of the Seneca Lake to Tioga Point, The transportation of coal has been a primary ob being one-half more than the whole exports of the 18 miles, with a feeder of 18 miles, making together ject with most of the companies; 592,210 tons of this United States in 1790. In order to give facilities to 36 miles; expense D.335,849. Crooked Lake Canal, material were dug and brought to market in 1833. The coal fields of Pennsylvania may be termed inexthe export of this growing surplus of produce, and to from the lake of that name to Seneca Lake, 7 miles; haustible, for it is ascertained that they embrace an offer a channel for the introduction of foreign luxuries expense D.136,101. The Erie and Champlain Canals, area of 21,000 square miles, or 13,400,000 acres. in return, as well as for the accommodation of travel- with navigable feeders, 8 miles. And the Chenango lers, steam-boats have been placed on the navigable Canal, extending from Utica to Binghampton, a disrivers, and canals and railways opened. The number tance of about 80 miles, to be finished in 1836, at an of steam-boats on the Mississippi, Ohio, and other expense of D.1,800,000. In 1823, the legislature of western rivers, on the 1st of January 1834, was 230, the state of New York incorporated a private commeasuring 39,000 tons. Of these vessels, there were pany to construct a canal from the Hudson to the Deseven plying between Nashville and New Orleans, four laware, to be connected with a canal and railroad in between Florence and New Orleans, four in the St Pennsylvania to the coal mines in Luzerne county. Louis trade, seven in the cotton trade, 57 not in es- Including 16 miles of railroad, the whole line of this tablished trades, and 120 in miscellaneous traffic. The extensive undertaking proceeds a distance of 125 miles, number of flat bottom and keel boats has been calcu- and the expense of its construction was D.2,305,599. lated at 4000, with a burden of 160,000 tons. In the It was finished in 1828. Its principal object is the autumn of 1834, the number of steam-boats on Lake supplying of New York with coal from the rich coal Erie was 31, whose average tonnage was about 343 tons fields of Pennsylvania. In 1833, the quantity of coals each; the number of schooners 234, averaging 80 tons brought down by it was 111,777 tons. The state at each; and three brigs, with an average tonnage of present contemplates a ship canal round the Falls of 215—making the whole tonnage of the west, exclusive | Niagara, and also from Oswego to Utica. It may be of that of canal-boats, about 230,000. On the Mis-known that there is already a ship canal, called the sissippi, and twenty-two of its tributary streams, more Welland Canal, round these falls, but it is on the than 8000 miles are traversed by boats propelled by British side. This canal joins Lakes Erie and Ontario, and has been among the most successful speculations within the Canadian boundary. Up till January 1835, it cost L.411,079, and its tolls in 1834 amounted to L.4300. To show its utility, we have only to mention, that during 1834 there passed through it 570 schooners, 334 boats and scows, and 66 rafts, the amount of tonnage being 37,917. Among the articles transported on this canal, for the first time in 1834, was 400 tons of coal for Upper Canada. steam. Pennsylvania, it is believed, first formed and commenced a plan for uniting the western and eastern waters, by an inland water communication; but it failed in its object, and the first completion of a canal was accomplished by the state of New York. This successful undertaking was that of the great Erie Canal, connecting the Hudson River with Lake Erie. This is the longest canal in the world, and, for one of its dimensions, constructed in the shortest period. No canal in China, unconnected with rivers, it is believed, is of equal extent. That of Languedoc in France is only 148 miles long, and was fourteen years in forming; while the Erie Canal is, in length, 368 miles, and was constructed in about eight years. The width of the canal at the surface of the water is forty, and at the bottom twenty-eight feet, with a depth of four feet; the number of locks is eighty-four, and the rise and fall is estimated at 698 feet. tensive artificial line of water communication was completed in 1825, at an expense of D.9,027,456. Gouverneur Morris was its projector, and the merit of its execution is due to De Witt Clinton, who, in conjunction with his able and patriotic colleagues, persevered against a powerful opposition arising from party politics as well as from prejudice and ignorance. Its success as a commercial undertaking has been as This ex extraordinary as its public utility has been conspicu. ous in 1833, it yielded a toll duty of D.1,290,136. The value of the produce it carried from the interior during the same year, amounted to D.13,000,000, or about a fifth part of the total exports of the States: of barrels of flour alone, the number brought down was 923,261, and of bushels of wheat 921,507. The tons of merchandise, &c. which went up the canal and its tributary canals, was about 107,000. If the reader should not be surprised at the extent and value of the internal commerce which these facts disclose, we think he cannot fail to be so, when he is informed, that the actual number of boats on these canals is 2328, giving employment to about 11,000 men and boys; being but little less than one-sixth of the whole number employed in the foreign and coasting trade of the United States in 1830. Of the immense quantity of inland produce now brought down by these canals, it is reckoned, that but for such channels of communication, extremely little would have been raised or prepared for market. This extensive water communication has placed farms in the western country nearly upon an equality with those of the east, in the vicinity of the great market towns and cities. Indeed, it has created large towns and cities at the west, along its | The great and successful exertions of the state of In New Jersey, the Morris Canal was completed in 1831, extending from the Delaware to Newark, 90 miles, at an expense of D.2,000,000. During the year 1834 the Delaware and Raritan Rivers have been connected by a canal, extending 30 miles; it is calcu lated for sloop navigation, and cost about D.2,500,000. The Delaware is likewise now connected with the Chesapeake, by a canal for sloop navigation, of about grand canal, extending a length of 341 miles, from the 16 miles in length; expense, D.2,201,864. In 1828, a tide waters on the Potomac to Pittsburgh, was com menced; in 1834, it had proceeded a distance of 109 miles, at an expense of D.3,707,262. The funds of the company have been exhausted before the canal has reached the extensive coal and iron region, situated on or near the sources of the Potomac, and from which, principally, the revenues of the canal are to be expected. There can be little doubt that capital will soon be found to complete this useful line of communication. In passing south, we next meet with the Dismal Swamp Canal, connecting the waters of the Chesapeake with those of Albemarle Sound, extending from Norfolk in Virginia into North Carolina, a distance of 28 miles. The expense of this canal up to the close of 1833 was D.700,000, and in that year the tolls bacon, and flour, were the chief articles of transport. amounted to D.33,290. Cotton, timber, tobacco, corn, In Virginia, a number of canals and short cuts have been made to improve navigation. The greatest improvement has been made in James' River, at and above the city of Richmond, called the James' River Canal, comprising a distance of from 30 to 40 miles. The tolls which were yielded by this canal in its different sections, in 1833, amounted to fully D.97,000. In South Carolina, the Santee and Cooper Rivers have been united by a canal of 22 miles in length, at an expense of D.650,667. In Georgia, the Savannah, Ogeechee, and Altamaha Canal, has been completed, being in length 66 miles. The spirit of canal and railroad improvements has crossed the Alleghany, and the canals of the state of Ohio may well claim the attention of the economist, as well as the traveller. Nearly 400 miles of artificial inland navigation have been completed through a country, which, little more than forty years ago, was a perfect wilderness. The Ohio Canal unites Lake Erie with the Ohio River, extending from Cleveland to Portsmouth, and, including its feeder, is 324 miles in length: it is by this canal that Upper Canada sends its emigrants down into the valley of the Mississippi, to the states of Illinois, Kentucky, Indiana, &c. The Miami Canal, situate in the western part of the state of Ohio, extends from the town of Dayton to Cincinnati, a distance of about 65 miles, and has been connected with the River Ohio. A canal has lately been authorised, and is already commenced, beginning on the Ohio Canal at Bolivar, to meet the great Pennsylvania Canal about 30 miles below Pittsburgh, a distance of 76 miles. Among the canals at the west, that round the Falls of the Ohio, called "Louisville and Portland Canal," though only about two miles in length, ought not to pass unnoticed. It is calculated to admit the passage of the largest steam-boats on the western waters, and cost D.940,000. In 1833, 875 steam-boats, and 710 flats and keel boats, passed through it, having an aggregate burden of 169,885 tons; the tolls in the same year amounted to D.60,736. It would be impossible to present an account of the lesser canals in various parts of the Union, as they are very numerous, and have been established for local purposes, chiefly with the view of connecting rivers and rounding shoals and falls. "From the best estimate we have been able to make (says Mr Pitkin) the number of miles of canal in the United States, completed on the 1st of January 1835, and which would not be long in being completed, is about 2867, and their cost about D.64.573,099. This expenditure for canals has been made principally within the last fifteen years. The whole amount expended for canals, in Great Britain and Ireland, from 1760 till 1824, a period of sixty-four years (and little has been expended for canals since), has been estimated at L.31,000,000 or D.148,800,000; and the number of miles of canal constructed, during the same period, canals of Britain have, proportionally, been made at was also estimated to be 2750;" in other words, the an expense of more than double the outlay in America |