PERFUMERY.

MUCH aid has been given by chemists to the art of perfumery. It is true that soap and perfumery are rather rivals, the increase of the former diminishing the use of the latter. Costly perfumes, formerly employed as a mask to want of cleanliness, are less required now that soap has become a type of civilization. Perfumers, if they do not occupy whole streets with their shops, as they did in ancient Capua, show more science in attaining their perfumes than those of former times. The jury in the exhibition, or rather two distinguished chemists of that jury, Dr. Hoffman and Dr. De la Rue, ascertained that some of the most delicate perfumes were made by chemical artifice, and not, as of old, by distilling them from flowers. The perfume of flowers often consists of oils and ethers, which the chemist can compound artificially in his laboratory. Commercial enterprise has availed itself of that fact, and sent to the exhibition in the form of essences, perfumes thus prepared. Singularly enough they are generally derived from substances of intensely disgusting odour. A peculiarly fetid oil, termed "fusel oil," is formed in making brandy and whiskey. This fusel oil, distilled with sulphuric acid, and acetate of potash, gives the oil of pears. The oil of apples is made from the same fused oil, by distillation with sulphuric acid and bicromate of potash. The oil of pine-apples is obtained from a product of the action of putrid cheese on sugar, or by making a soap with butter, and distilling it with alcohol and sulphuric acid, and is now largely employed in England in the preparation of the pine-apple ale. Oil of grapes and oil of cognac, used to impart the flavour of French cognac to British brandy, are little else than fusel oil. The artificial oil of bitter almonds, now so largely employed in perfuming soap and flavouring confectionery, is prepared by the action of nitric acid, on the fetid oils of gas tar. Many a fair forehead is damped with eau-de-millefleurs, without knowing that its essential ingredient is derived from the drainage of cow-houses. The wintergreen oil, imported from New Jersey, being produced from a plant indi

geneous there, is artificially made from willows, and a body procured in the distillation of wood. All these are direct modern appliances of science to an industrial purpose, and imply an acquaintance with the highest investigations of organic chemistry. Let us recollect that the oil of lemons, turpentine, oil of juniper, oil of roses, oil of copaiba, oil of rosemary, and many other oils, are identical in composition; and it is not difficult to conceive that perfumery may derive still further aid from chemistry.-Lectures on the Results of the Great Exhibition.

THE GOOD WIFE.-The power of a wife for good or evil is irresistible. Home must be the seat of happiness, or it must be for ever unknown. A good wife is to a man wisdom, and courage, and strength, and endurance. A bad one is confusion, weakness, discomfiture, and despair. No condition is hopeless when the wife possesses firmness, decision, and economy. There is no outward prosperity which can counteract indolence, extravagance, and folly at home. No spirit can long endure bad domestic influence. Man is strong, but his heart is not adamant. He delights in enterprise and action; but to sustain him he needs a tranquil mind and a whole heart. He expends his whole moral force in the conflicts of the world. To recover his equanimity and composure, home must be to him a place of repose, of peace, of cheerfulness, of comfort, and his soul renews its strength again, and goes forth with fresh vigour to encounter the labour and troubles of the world. But if at home he finds no rest, and is there met with bad temper, sullenness, or gloom, or is assailed by discontent, or complaint, or reproaches, the heart breaks, the spirits are crushed, home vanishes, and the man sinks in despair. We know that the evil consequences of incompatible as well as injudicious unions produce most direful miseries — husband and wife devoid of love for one another! When such is the case how awful are the consequences to their unfortunate children. The female character should, from its earliest formation, be moulded to its important duties as the friend of man. In no period of life should such education be neglected.

ELECTRICAL RECREATIONS.

The Magic Picture.-This picture must have a frame and glass, about two inches off the border of the print to cut off all around. The upper and under part of the middle of the glass is covered with tinfoil, that communicates with the bottom of the frame: over this tinfoil the print is pasted. Now if the tinfoil on both sides of the glass be moderately electrified, and a person take hold of the bottom of the frame with one hand, so that his fingers touch the tinfoil, and with the other hand endeavour to take off the crown, he will receive a very smart blow, and fail in the attempt. A guinea or a shilling will do as well. When a ring of persons take a shock among them, the experiment is called The Conspirators."

ENIGMATICAL LIST OF RIVERS.

1. There's a river that flows very gently, 2. There's a river that mounteth on high,

3. There's a river where money will tempt ye, 4. There's a river confined in a sty.

5. There's a river the church will acknowledge,

6. There's a river the busy disown;

7. There's a river that Spain can't abolish,

8. There's a river from Paradise flown.

9. There's a river that runs through the desert, 10. There is one neither savage nor wild,

11. There's a river whose odour 's unpleasant,
12. There's a river that may tempt a child.
13. There's a river that dwells in a forest,
14. There's a river that bringeth it down;
15. There's a river that Greece may diminish,
16. There's a river to silence unknown.
H. GARNEY, Portshead.
ENIGMA.

Cut off my head, a quadruped I'm then,
And one most useful to the sons of men;
Cut off my tail, and deem it not an error
To say I then become a word of terror:
Cut off both head and tail, my transformations
Might puzzle the wise heads of many nations.
I'm east-I'm west-I'm old-I'm a cry
Of sorrow, or surprise, or agony;
Live in one place, your grandchild I become,
More to another, lo! I am your son:
And when glad Christmas-time is nearly come,
To herald its approach, in hymns I'm sung.
What is my head cut off? a fancier of flowers,
An amateur of heaths and woodbine bowers:
What is my tail? the emblem of salvation,
And mark of ignorance throughout the nation:
What is my whole? sometimes I am a seat
Where the gay belle and beau delight to meet :
From the Creator's hands a tree I came,
But into various forms ran does me frame.
Sometimes most anxiously you watch the motion
Within my bosom as you cross the ocean;
Sometimes with sighs you place me in your
treasure,

It may be all that in this life gave pleasure;
Sometimes you ope my mouth to look inside,
Count its contents with something like the pride
And joy a mother feels, when counting o'er
Her baby's pearly teeth, she finds the store
Has fast increased from one to five or six, or more:
But to conclude, lest I intrude:

Sometimes to get me very much would grieve ye
While sometimes it would please you to receive
M. A. GRUEBER.

me.

ARITHMETICAL QUESTIONS.

1

How many days can five persons be placed in different positions round a table at dinner?

2

Seven gentlemen travelling met at an inn, and being pleased with each other's company and their host, offered him £50 to board them, so long as they could sit every day at dinner with him in a different order, to which he readily consented. How long would they be entitled to stay?

REBUS.

A borough and sea-port on England's east coast,
The most fertile province that Russia can boast,
That without which no cathedral can stand,
That which a pastry-cook oft has in hand,
A fair Saxon princess, both valiant and wise.
And that which is frequently made into pies.
The initials of these will give you the name
Of a monarch extoll'd in the annals of fame;
The finals will quickly remind you of one
Whose name is well known on account of a son:
And if backward you read the said finals, 'tis
clear

That a feminine proper name still will appear.
E. N. M.

RIDDLES. 1.

By nine letters show a bloody deed done: Take away one and you change it to fun. 2.

A word of two syllables will express
A condition of cold and hot distress,
Two letters more make a syllable less,
And a vast addition of distress.

3.

My whole he saddled a mighty steed,
For he scorn'd my First's pacific breed;
His shield was brass-(the device it bore
A padded tree in a field of or).

Linen his corslet-his lance was steel,
And he rode to war with fearful peal;
And charged at the head of his leagued band
Against the chieftains of the land.
Woe for the chieftains of the land,
In vain they made a desp'rate stand,
In vain they bled, in vain they prayed
Their national champions oft tried aid-
From their side the royal master crept,
And in my second tamely slept.
My whole believes his fight is done;
His spurs are doff'd, his victory won;
Many there are that victory rue,
But many prefer it to Waterloo.

ANSWERS TO FAMILY PASTIME.-P. 29. ENIGMA

Coal-gas, in a balloon, and as used as a source of light. RIDDLES

1. Quick-silver. HISTORICAL ENIGMA

2. An army.

Nottingham, Countess - O verbury, Sir T.Raleigh, Sir Walter-Thomas-a-Becket-Hamp den-U ffa-M ore-B acon, Sir Francis-Essex, Earl-Radcliffe, Dr.-Leicester, Earl-A schami, Mr.-N eville-David-Northumberland.

ELLEN LYNDHURST;

A TALE OF TRIAL AND TRIUMPH.

(Continued from page 36.)

CHAPTER V.

ARISTOCRATIC VAGRANTS-A CREDITOR'S
STRATAGEM.

In an apartment in a large building, at the west end of London, sat a gentleman reading a newspaper, from which he turned occasionally to notice the time indicated by a clock standing upon the mantel-piece. By his side there was a small table upon which a neat breakfastservice had been placed. The apartment was one of considerable elegance, though it bore no marks of domesticity. There were large chairs, lounges, and screens, a well-filled book-case, with miscellaneous articles in the shape of cigar-cases, meerschaum pipes, walking-sticks, whips, and bundles of paper laying about. These sufficiently indicated that it was the abode of a young man, who managed to keep up a respectable appearance by living in what are called "chambers." The "chamber" population of London is not the least remarkable of the various grades that make up the dense multitudes inhabiting the great metropolis. Of thousands of them nobody knows how they live, whence they come, or whither they go. Always apparently in easy circumstances, they have no visible sources of income. Well dressed, living luxuriantly, wandering by night and idling by day, they constitute a class of aristocratic vagrants, the off-casts of noble families, or the victims of those laws by which the property of the rich is unequally distributed. The

secret of their existence is to be found in the gaming table or the betting club, in dishonoured bills, and defrauded tradesmen, whose hungry children suffer through the disintegrity of these locusts of the

human race.

"Where can Montague be ?" muttered the gentleman in question, as he took another glance at the time-piece.

At this moment a loud knock and ring was heard, and Mr. Langford, starting up, opened a side door and called out to his valet, "Be sure you admit no one but Mr. Montague; I am not at home."

VOL. VIII.-NO. LXXXVIII.

"So often," said the tradesman; "my bill has been owing more than fifteen months, and every time I have seen Mr. Langford, he has told me that it should be paid in a week; and now my wife is dying, and we have not a shilling in the house."

"Well," said the valet, "I can't help that. If master was here he would pay you, of course he would. But he's not in town, nor will he be for some weeks."

"Can you tell me where to write to him?" asked the tradesman; "I believe he would pay me if he knew of my dis

tress."

"You wouldn't think of doing such a thing?" said the valet. "The idea of writing to such a gentleman as he is about a petty bill, when he's on a visit to Lord Killare! He'll be back soon, and you'll be paid, never fear. But you mustn't insult a gentleman by asking for your money-you'll never get on that way;" and thus saying, the valet closed the door.

It was a cold winter's day, and the poor man for some time stood shivering upon the steps, thinking sadly of his poverty, and sorrowing that he could not take to his wife the few necessities that her last illness demanded. Presently a gentleman hurried up to the door, and almost ran against the old tradesman who, at the time, was descending the steps.

"Has Mr. Langford gone out?" asked Mr. Montague, assuming that the tradesman had called upon him.

than a year, but has never paid me a farthing; and now he avoids me."

"This may be of use to me," said Mr. Montague;" stay near, and, if possible, I will get your bill paid."

The poor tradesman listened with astonishment and delight at the expectation thus raised, and withdrew a short way from the door.

Upon Mr. Montague's knocking, the door was opened, and he entered without the slightest impediment. He was immediately shown to the apartment occupied by Mr. Langford.

"Ah, ah! Montague, I'm glad you are come, I had given you up, quite," said Langford.

"I've been detained unexpectedly,' said Montague, "and am now ready for breakfast, if that is not over."

"I kept it waiting for you," said Langford, and then ringing the bell, he ordered his attendant to supply the breakfast at

once.

"Well," said Montague, "what news?" "Oh, capital," replied Langford. "I've had a letter from the old fellow at Windmere, and he has expressed a desire to see me, I presume with a view to the settlement of his affairs. Here it is."

Mr. Montague took the letter, and laughed two or three times while he read it. "The old gentleman seems to have a most extraordinary conception of the piety and good conduct of his nephew," said he, as he refolded the epistle.

"That's the beauty of it," said Langford, "and therefore my interests are all the more certain. He's a sanctimonious old file, and sees no happiness but in his Methodism, or whatever else it is. So when I write to him, I always fire away upon that strain. If I apply for money, and he reminds me how recently I have been supplied, I assure him of the wants of the poor, and sending him down the reports of some of our benevolent societies, I am sure to get a plenty of the needful in return. I've long ago got through the property my father left; but then I know that my old bachelor uncle looks upon me as a pink of perfection, and that I shall soon come in for all his. He can't live long!"

I see," said Mr. Montague musingly, "you perform most questionable actions to

make the old man think you are a fit object for his beneficence. But suppose he finds you out?"

How can he? I've already ordered a suit of black from my tailor. I shall pitch away my shooting coat for a time, off with these mustachios, and go down to him, looking as smooth-faced and demure as a priest. I've already been struggling through Dymond's Essays, to get a few sentiments to tickle the old man's ear; and making up my mind to do penance at Windmere for a fortnight; I shall come back as rich as a Jew."

"And your proposal to me is

"That you will renew the bill for £500, coming due on Friday next; and lend me another £200, for six months, at the same rate of interest as before."

"And the security?"

"You already hold my uncle's reversion, which is worth four times the amount; and he an old man of seventy-five."

"Ah. This additional two hundred is to enable you to hold on, until your uncle opens his purse, or dies and leaves you all he has ?"

46

'By the way, I've left an acquaintance outside,” said Montague," a poor manbut one whom I would not like to treat slightingly, by allowing him to remain in the cold. May I ask him in ?"

"Oh, certainly, why didn't you name the fact before ?" Ringing the bell, Langford said to his valet, "tell the person waiting outside to come in."

Away the valet went, and in a few moments the bootmaker, bent with age, and shivering with cold, was ushered into the room.

"Confound the thing!" muttered Langford to himself. "You have shown in the wrong man," said he to the valet; "there is some mistake, Mr. Montague, this is no acquaintance of yours?"

Slightly so," said Montague," but you seem to know him well."

66

Oh, ha, yes," stammered Langford,

he has done some work for me, from time to time. I help him all I can."

"Yes, sir," said the boot-maker, "you have kindly given me work, and if you will pay me for it now, I will thank you, for my wife is dying, if not already dead; and I am anxious to hasten to her with a few comforts for her last hour!"'

'Why, old man, what are you talking about. I owe you nothing. You have been paid," said Langford, with an air of much compassion.

"Never, sir," said the boot-maker, "if you remember rightly, you have never paid me a farthing, though you have often promised to do so." And the old man looked exceeding sad at the doubts thus cast upon his hope.

"You may be wrong," suggested Montague to Langford. "You see the old man is distressed by your denial of the debt. The amount must be small to you; pay it, and ease the old man's heart."

"I really think I have done so," said Langford in a tone which clearly indicated that he spoke untruly. "However, if you call this day week, you shall certainly be paid."

66

"Oh, good sir, don't put me off again. Indeed I would not press upon you now, but my wife, with whom I have lived sixty years, is passing from me. I have been unable to work, for grief, for many weeks, and therefore we have become poorer and poorer. Pray help me to-day, the sum is small, and I will bless you for it."

Langford seemed quite confused, and shook the sole of his foot against the ground.

"How much is your bill?" asked Montague.

"Just four pounds ten," replied the bootmaker. "Nothing for a wealthy gentleman, but everything to a poor unhappy wretch like me."

"Oh, pay it, pay it!" exclaimed Montague.

"Really, my dear fellow, I would, but I believe I've done so; and I have no change," said Langford.

"Ah, now I see," said Montague; "then let me pay this little account. It will not greatly increase your obligation to

me."

"Oh, thank you, with all my heart, it's

very kind. Where's your bill, old man,you might have had it long ago had I seen you," said Langford, with a composed but vaunting air.

The old shoemaker was paid, and left the apartment with a quick step, giving many thanks to the kind gentleman who had thus befriended him.

66

we

"Now, Langford," said Montague, are alone, and I must have a few words with you. I confess that I have been disappointed in the estimate I had formed of your character. During our short acquaintance you have frequently obtained sums of money from me under false representations. For some time you so wound yourself around my heart, that I thought I had a friend whom I could serve disinterestedly. But as rapidly as you could do it, you struck away all pretensions to principle, until at last you stand unmasked before me as one of those men of the world who go about to victimise their fellow creatures. I had some knowledge of your late father, and this gave me greater confidence in you. But the manner in which you speak of his memory, and the artful devices you employ to deceive your uncle and obtain money from him, convinces me that you are a man in whom no confidence can be placed. I shall therefore hold to the doubtful security I have, and refuse to give you any further accommodation."

After the exchange of a few more observations, in which Montague explained how his knowledge of Langford's debts, and his wilful ill-usage of tradespeople had come to him, and that he had employed the old bootmaker, whom he accidentally met, to prove the fact, he left the house.

"Confound the stupid blockhead!" uttered Langford, with feelings of strong excitement, "to let that old cobbler come in and destroy my plans. I must get money somewhere, or I shall be undone. My debts of honour must be paid. I owe Mortlake a hundred pounds, and Johnson twice as much, and unless I settle with them forthwith I shall be black-balled everywhere. I must off to Windmere by the first coach, and see how rapidly I can wheedle my old uncle out of the needful.” Then, taking up pen and ink he hastily scrawled a letter, and despatched it immediately to the post.