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“ We must have a look at the liar,” replied Phillip.
“ Strike a light then,” said the other, “and bring up the
lanthorn. Measter Ralph Reckless! that bean’t no bad idear,
thougher.”” . . .
A light being obtained, Mike took the lanthorn from his
brother, when be approached the top of the loft-ladder, and
turning the light full upon Ralph, they both scanned him from
top to toe, Ralph, at the first approach of the light, had
shaded his face with his hand, and his eyes being soon accus-
tomed to the glare, he removed it ; and so soon as the two lads
beheld his face, they screamed aloud. Mike dropped the
Janthorn, and made but one jump from the door of the loft into
the field, whilst Mike reached the ground almost as quick, by
rolling head over heels from the top of the ladder to the bottom.
They both then ran across the fields with the speed of grey-
hounds, making the hills echo with their cries of murder.
vi (To be continued.)
Drientific Letters,
i BY MERCURY.—No. VII.
Of all the sciences, none is so universal as chemistry.
Jt embraces all material nature, and treats of the compo-
sition of natural substances. It thus becomes an asso-
ciative-coadjutor of every science, Anatomy treats only
of the organization of the human body, its bones, its
muscles, its nerves, and its circulating system ; but che-
misiry is. necessary to complete the study, by determin-
ing the nature of the ingredients of which the body is
composed. It analyzes the bone, the muscle, the nerve,
and the blood, and reduces them to their simple elements.
Without this chemical information, our anatomical know-
ledge would avail but little towards the enlightenment
of our minds upon the mysterious process, by which our
frames are created out of the simple aud everlasting ele-
ments of Nature.
The same may be said of botany, of geology, of mete-
orology, and all the sciences of experiment and observation,
These are all merely departments of chemistry. Che-
mistry is the great material science ; and, therefore, may
correctly be denominated the fundamental science. , When
I say the fundamental science, I do not mean to affirm
that it is the most beautiful and noble. Jt is in chis re-
spect inferior to moral science, which is more immedi-
ately connected with our individual and social happiness +
but as an elementary science, as'a beginuing of true
philosophy, chemistry is the true and only basis, We
find all the elements of truth io chemistry, and the more
closely we reason according to its everlasting and uni-
yersal laws, the more correct shall we find our various
conclusions, | Accurate reasoning in any science is always
in accordance with accurate reason in every other, and
all established moral truths are perfectly analogous
to chemical truth; but doubtful notions are better tested
upon chemical principles than any other. These princi-
ples have not hitherto been followed by men, because
chemistry is an infant science, or just beginning to lay
claim to the sovereiguty of the material world; but now
that its authority is beginning to be acknowledged, its
decisions are conclusive.
very element of Nature has its opposite. In other
words, all the elements of Nature arrange themselves like
two opposing forces, charged with opposite principles.
Thus when the decomposition of water is effected by
electro-magnetism, the two gases which compose it arrange
themselves, one at one end of the trough, and the other at
the other end, and are collected in separate tubes.” This
is not an arbitrary law, it is invariable, and the result is
determinable with 2s much precision as the result of a
piece of human mechanism, ‘To understand the acci-
dents of oxygen and its antagonist hydrogen,” says Sir
Richard Paiilips, ‘*is to understand the general mecha-
nism of Nature,”
It is singular enoogh, that although chemistry be the
elementary science, it is only in our own age that mathe-
matical accuracy has been given to it. For this accuracy
the world is chiefly indebted to ovr countrymen. Our
forerunners, however, were Swedes an! Frenchmen, who
ave paved the way for our final discoveries, and. are
therefore entitled to share the highest honours with such
men as Priestley, Dalton, Davy, and Faraday. The
principal discoveries of these men have tended only to
simplify the science by reducing the number of elements,
Chemical decompositions now generally consist of three
or four parts: oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen,
are the principal ingredients. These are to be found
every where, they are universal clements, and by their
various combination with one another, or with such sub-
stances as go by the names of simple bodies, which are
merely substances which chemists cannot decompose,
they form an infinite variety of objects. Thus carbon
combined with oxygen makes carbonic acid, that most
deadly poison which is generated so profusely in our me-
tropolitan church-yards, that death was the instantaneous
result of a descent into one of the leviathan graves a
few weeks ago. et oxygen is called zoine by Dr:
Ure, because it is the giver of life, or forms the principle
of life in the atmospbere which we breathe, the other gas,
nitrogen, being so leadly as to cause instant death,
Sulpbur combined with oxygen forms sulphuric acid.
Oxygen is the principal generator of acids. This is in
fact the meaning of the word literally translated from the
Greek. " Hydrogen is its opposite, and creates the great-
est number of probably all the alkalis, This causes an
opposition between acid and alkali, and is the cause of
that fermentation which follows their mixture in soda
powders, ginger beer, &c. ae
This combination of simple elements, and the infinite
variety of results that follow from it, has given rise to
Dr. Dalton’s celebrated ctomic theory, i.e, the theory
which determines the proportions in which elementary
substances combine with one another,
FRANKLIN'S MISCELLANY
The theory considers elementary substances, in two
aspects ; first, in respect to their weight; aad: second, in
respect to their bulk. A quantity of hydrogen of the
same weight with a quantity of oxygen is eizht times
larger, in other words oxygen is 8 times heavier than hy+
drogen, Hydrogen being the lightest material substance
known, is numbered 1, and oxygen is numbered 8, and
every other substance has its own number,
Now water is composed of oxygen and hydrogen, 8
arts by weight of oxygen, and 1 of hydrogen; in other
words, equal volumes or portions. Eight and one make
9, the atomic number for water.
So say the chemists, but there is sad confusion in their
theory, and such a variety of numberings as to deter the
public from any attempt to understand it. For after all
this they. will tell you that water is composed of one
volume of oxygen and two hydrogen, aud that hydrogen
s 16 times lighter than oxygen, but there being 8 times
more oxygen by weight in water, the proportion of 8 to 1
is adopted as a_ fictitious standard. As a specimen of
the blunders caused by this, take the following quotations
from Sir Richard Phillips :—
« Eight parts by weight of oxygen and one of hydro-
gen form water.
“ Water is also formed of one volume of oxygen and
two of hydrogen.
«« Water is one volume of hydrogen and two of oxygen,
&e.” .
I could select many more. They are puzzling to
learners and disheartening: such books are worse than
useless... They are injurious, partly because the atomic
theory is itself in a state of confusion, though practically
correct, and partly because that confusion begets more
confusion in the minds of those who teach it, and still
more in those who learn it. A new system of numbering
is wanted. Different chemists number differently.. Some
make oxygen 1, and hydrogen 0,125. Brande makes
oxygen 7} instead of 8. Mercury,
EMILY AMHERST; OR, THE FAIR WANDERER.
(Written expressly for Fraxxxin’s Miscenuany.)
On our journey to the south of Devon we had stopped for
the night at the Red Lion inn, then kept by the widow Brydges,
situate in the high-street of Honiton. The following morning
opened with a serenity and splendour which is peculiar to the
early part of autumn ‘in this country,—the beauty of the day,
and the probability of its becoming very hot in‘its advance,
determined us to ‘proceed a stage beforé breakfast, and lay by
during the heat of the noon-day.
I went into the inn-yard to give directions for putting the
horses to, and then sauntered through the town ; it was Satur-
day—the market-day, and [ amused myself with noticing the
activity and bustle of the scene of preparation ; the pictures of
health and cleanliness which the country dames and their
buxom daughters exhibited in their cheerful countenances, and
neatly-covered baskets of poultry and other provisions for
town ; the cordial welcomes of the acquaintance of the old and
the lovers of the young ;—the hearty grasp of the hand given
and received by many an open-hearted honest countryman, and
the kindly salutation of the townspeople to their visi‘ors,
All was animation and busy tumult, when suddenly, by a
general impulse, a large portion of the people drew off from
their occupations and congratulations, to the open space before
the market—attracted by some object which I could not discern.
A fixed attention marked all their countenances as they joined
the group now forming,—the various tones of business: and
greeting were hushed to a gentle hum.
“She is come again,” said one to his neighbour, in a low
tone of voice.
“She has not been here for three months past,” added
another.
“ T am glad to be here in time,” whispered a third.
“Silence! silence!” gently exclaimed several—* she is going
to begin !”
A general movement tcok place—the circle contracted as I
approached, and endeavoured to get within the ranks so as to
obtain a view. I found it difficult to effect my object ; every
one seemed eager to retain his situation.
“Who is it?—what is going on?” J enquired, breaking in
rather abruptly upon the deep attention of the surrounding
people.
“Hush! hush,” said a soldier next to me.
“© Silence,” exclaimed several voices,
“You will hear presently,” answered. a woman, holding up
her finger to me in token of silence,
: Tobeyed—my attention had become as riveted as that of the
rest forming the close-set group.
‘he woman had scarcely spoken, when the softest and most
harmonious voice I had ever heard, stole with syren-accents
upon my ear. It was low and plaintive, but my situation pre-
vented me hearing the subject of the song or obtaining a view
of the singer. The melody was wild, but interspersed with
those touching graces of execution, and closed with a cadence
and a shake, which altogether proved the sweet performer to
have cultivated her voice under masters of no common order.
My curiosity to see her was excited; a word from the harsh
rough voice of the woman in the centre, who had before mo-
tioned me to silence, enabled me to gratify my wishes.
“* Make more room about us,” exclaimed she, “ you stand
too close upon us !” .
» Simultaneously, as if commanded by a superior, the people
immediately enlarged the ring ; not a word was spoken. This
movement gave me an opportunity, by preseing forward, of
placing myself in the front row, and, of course, of satisfying
my impatient curiosity. .
1n the centre of the enlarged circle stood three as ragged and
unfurnished figures as ever belonged to gypsy tribe, An old
blind man, with silvery locks, rather abundant for his years,
stood supporting himsel? upon his long staff; his countenance
was fresh, his forehead high and noble, his nose aquiline, and
altogether he would have been to Denner a subject for his pencil
of the highest order.’ A decrepit old woman rested upon her
crutch ; her sun-burnt face and shrivelled skin; an expression
of command in her eye. which appeared at utter variance with
her station ; her wild disheveled Brack locks and harsh voice,
gave her the appearance of a wizard in Macbeth, or of some-
thing superhuman.
Between these two objects stood a third, whose appearance—
independent of that syren-voice which had so captivated all
around—would have left me quite undetermined whether to
333
call her a man ora woman. A man’s large straw-hat, pulled ow
down over her forehead, covered her face, and completely shel-
tered its features from the inquisitive eye of their deeply atten-
tive hearers, A boy’s tattered coat hung with incongruous
appropriation from shoulders whose full and fine form attested.
the elegance of her figure, which was aided by an erect neck,
that in its motions showed more of dignity than I remember
to have seen anywhere, even in the highest circles of fashion.
A kind of rug, tied around tbe waist, and reaching nearly to
the ancles; a ragged yellow stocking on one leg, and a blue
counterpart on the other, finished the wardrobe of the extraor-
dinary female before me.
er hand, which held her tattered shawl and a ballad, ap~
peared emall and delicately formed., A few bright brown Yocks
that strayed from beneath the rim of her hat, together with her
delicate hand, confirmed me in the conviction that she was not
of the gypsy tribe, and also in the resolution to know some-
thing of her history if possible.
My first suspicion was, that she had been stolen or decoyed
from her friends ; but a moment's consideration led me to con-
clude that was impossible ; for her finished style of singing
proved that she must have been at an age of discretion before
she quitted home, and consequently that she could not be de~
tained in such a degraded situation contrary to her own free
will. :
I moved round in front of the party to satisfy, if I could, the
strong curiosity I felt to behold her face, and to gain from her
companions some account of her. ‘My eagerness, after I had
gained my new situation, was in a moment suspended. . My
charmed ear and riveted attention to a new burst of melodious
song were too absorbed to allow any thought but that of her an-
gelic voice. I now h
eard the ‘words of her pathetic air: dis-_-
tinctly—in her softest sounds not a syllable was inarticulate ;
but they indeed told a story of woe which at once accounted for
the eager attention of the listeners, and the profound silence with
which they harkened to the moving tale of the forlorn singer,
mn ‘as to be lost,) and it well claimed their breath=
less stillness, for their excited feelings had before this occasion
been raised to no usual tone, be, :
The old woman, in a similar character to that of “ Rumour”
in the ancients plays, had announced in her hoarse strong
voice, that ‘The Mother’s Tomb” was to be sung the
orphan child, who would personate “‘ The Wanderer,” and she,
the old woman, would represent the ‘ Mother.” The harsh
voice of the old woman ceased—attention became mute as the
‘ave. The young female made a curtsey such as would grace
a court-introduction ; she raised her hand, and drew the large
hat lower upon her face. I thought I caw a tear fall. Iam cer-
tain she quickly wiped away its companion.» I was deeply
movet as her soft clear tones and finished beauties of style gave
an indescribable effect to the following ballad, which th
from memory, or it was her own ; it was not the one she held.
in her hand, which seemed only intended to afford the appenr=
ance of singing from music. tes ‘
MY MOTHER'S TOMB.
White was the marble stone they laid
-Upon my mother ; and co'd it strack ot
My mournful heart, when I did rest
My young tresh grefs where ske still guid,
But answer'd not ; #0 I did weep
Be 1d!” as she always said,
Until they laid her down to sleep .
The-e; and they p:omiied she would wate agri
To hagpy ecen.s, and ne'er feal grief or pain.
Oh! I did love my mother!
But she wak’d not; for as the night :
Stara gemm'd the dark vault of heaven,
Wih lovely step the dewy grass
T trod ; and then I thought mine eye
Did view her form through the grav‘d stone,
i 1 did pass ‘ .
1 : -
e, . :
Vacant L sought my dreary home—no more i
‘That home it ever was to me before t ,
ih! how I lov’d thee, mother!
So years rolled on, and I did learn
Yhat then my blossom-youth nor thought
Nor scann'd, the cold grave ne'er aught... < ..
Return'd from its close hold ;~the ura: .
Retaics its charge !—But wy sice’s grief
‘Wore not my huey—for he soon forgot
My mother’s Jove, and did replace :
With green-yvows those he did dismiss,—
And on another he did shod the grace
That fills tte cup of life with woe or blies.
1 he forgot my mother!
Hard was my fate! for she did guile .
His love fom me—his only ch'ld,
Chill greeting rent my oursting heart, ya
When [ di i
But yet [ thought it hard to part
‘With treaeur'd nature’s earliest boon
Of sweet remembrance,—so f sought
My tombed mother’s sacred rest, and thought
She becs"ning said— Doar Emmy! joia me son |’?
long to join thee, mother!
‘The last cadences of this wild ballad so expressed the utter
destitution of a broken mind, that my heart wasriven. The faint
notes died upon the ear: no moved; no one spoke; the
sympathies of all around were equally awakened by the grief.
urging tones which had wafted in ‘the air, embodying, as it
were, the deep wee, described as her own, by the forlorn song=
th
ress.
_ I never witnessed a more convincing proof that the sensibili-
ties of our common nature are benevolently spread over all
classes and stations by our beneficent Creator. - fhe chords of
the affections may be made to vibrate in hearts covered by the
roughest exterior, ’
Scarcely an eye was dry, and after a pause, and seme kind of
dialogue between the old woman as mother,” and the poor girl,
@ contribution was readily made by the surrounding auditors >
all seemed eager to give a mite towards the support of the three
unknown strollers, see a
A young athletic soldier at this moment joined
as they were conversing upon the subject of thi
and her sweet voice.
potation ; he hada natural buoyancy irits that seemed to
delight in turning every object to ridicule, lis vivacity had.
not been checked by the hearing of the piteous tale. of “the
wanderer,” and he freely indulged his merriment upon’ the
sombre looks of the partics around him. I¥is fat cheeks were
distended with laughter, He first began rallying his coma
panions ; he drew his hand across his face in ridicule of one,
en went to another and sighed, and disturbed every one in.
turn, ,
Some money was at this moment thrown from a window to
the wanderers; the young creature looked up to thank the donor,
the bystanders
je“ wanderer”
de appeared overcharged by his morning -
o