be made white as wool." Alas! mine would the pure waters of this fountain incarnadine, dyeing them with the hue of blood." "Father, I wish last night were blotted from existence. I feel as if I should never be happy again." PRACTICAL SCIENCE. I INTRODUCTION, THE object of this series is to furnish practical hints and information in the various departments of science. It will be our study to make the series as comprehensive and varied, as circumstances will permit. We shall introduce woodcuts when considered necessary, and every experiment will be practically tested and each stage of manipulation noted down at the time; by this means all chances of failure will be obviated, and real practical knowledge imparted. 'Strange, that hope should spring from the very ashes of despair. But it is even so, my son. Lost, degraded as I am, unworthy to hold fellowship with my innocent children, or even with the dark African of a whiter soul, I feel a vitality that I thought annihilated before. It seems as if I had heard a revelation from heaven, making known to me that you, my son, were to lead me back to virtue and to peace. As philosophical and other apparatus is It came to me when I was grovelling on very expensive to purchase, particular atmy knees at midnight. It grew clearer attention will be given to the construction breaking day. Just now, a voice seemed of extemporaneous apparatus, and even to sound in my car, like a voice from hea- such as is fit for the lecture-table. Some ven, Arise and go to thy son. Thy son on of the early experiments of the illustrious earth shall yet lead thee to thy Father in Davy were performed with a few phials, heaven." gallipots, and equally rude apparatus, and we must not forget that Dalton, who invented the atomic theory; Dr. Priestly, the discoverer of oxygen; Scheele, who discovered chlorine; Bezelius, who discovered silicon, selenium, zirconium, and thorium, and Dumas, Liebig, and Farraday, names illustrious in the annals of scientific research, were all obliged to construct their own apparatus when first they became students in practical science. Continued at page 61. 66 THE SCRIPTURES.-Cowper, the poet, in his memoirs of his early life gives an affecting instance of the benefit frequently derived from the recollection of some consolatory text of Scripture. It occurred while he was at a public school. 'My chief affliction," he says, consisted in my being singled out from all the other boys, by a lad about fifteen years of age, as a proper object upon whom he might let loose the cruelty of his temper. One day, as I was sitting alone upon a bench in the school, melancholy and almost ready to weep at the recollon of what I had already suffered, au expecting at the same time my tormentor every moment, these words came into my mind: 'I will not be afraid of what man can do unto me.' I applied this to my own case, with a degree of trust and confidence in God that would have been no disgrace to a much more experienced Christian. Instantly I perceived in myself a briskness of spirit, and a cheerfulness which I had never before experienced, and took several paces up and down the room with joyful alacrity His gift in whom I trusted. Happy would it have been for me, if this early effort towards the blessed God had been frequently repeated by me." Practical science is of such importance to all of us, that it is scarcely necessary to state the reasons that have induced us to commence this series. We are indebted to science for everything that surrounds us, the ink that is used in writing this series owes its origin to chemistry. The steel-pen is another example of the power of science. Whether we consider the conversion of iron into steel, the power that moves the rolling-mill, or the machine that enables one person to cut out 28,000 a day. Paper-making, type-casting, the manufacture of printing-ink, stereotyping, and printing are all under obligations to science. Let us enter our kitchens, and science attends the cook; all our domestics are students in practical science. The processes of dyeing and bleaching; brewing and distilling; the manufacture of gas, soap, candles, gunpowder, glass, &c.; the operations of smelting and working metals; lithography and etching; painting, and in fact all our trades and manufactures are indebted to practical science for all their improvements. As we are surrounded with scientific phenomena that frequently call forth pertinent questions from the young as well as the e more mature, it will be our constant study to explain them by means of simple experiments written in such language that any one may be able to understand. For example, every person does not know why a piece of ice feels cold and a piece of fur warm. It will be our endeavour to explain such common matters. This series will form a useful companion to the more advanced scientific works of the day, and to the elementary cate. chisms of your old friend GRANDFATHER WHITEHEAD. CHEMICAL APPARATUS. 1. To construct a spirit-lamp. - Pro cure a wide-mouthed bottle, such as is shown in the accompanying 3. To construct bent tubes for chemical experiments.-Take a piece of glass tubing one-third of an inch in diameter, and of the proper length,-light your spirit-lamp (§ 1), and hold the tube diagonally in the flame, taking care to turn it round all the time, and to move it backwards and forwards, so as to heat about four inches of it sa the part where it requires to be bent. When the glass begins to get soft, place the two thumbs against the glass so as to form fulcra, as in the annexed figure, and HT figure (d), and fit the cluso a merac mouth with a good stout cork (b); now take out the cork and make a hole through the centre of it, by means of a redhot wire, but be careful not to make it too large for the tube to be fitted to it. Cut off a piece of brass-tubing, one-quarter of an inch in diameter and of sufficient length to allow half an inch below the cork and three-quarters of an inch above it. Push the tube in (a) through the hole made in the cork by the red-hot wire, and be sure that it fits well. Pass a piece of cotton used for lamps through the tubing, and be sure that it is long enough to reach the bottom of the bottle. Fit a tin cap (c) to the cork, so as to keep the spirit of wine or naphtha from evaporating, and your spirit-lamp will be complete. bend it slowly backwards,—that is, towards your body, until it acquires the proper form; for example, such as the syphon figured in vol. v., p. 173, of the old series of the Family Friend,-then allow it to cool gradually. 2. To make a temporary retort.—Procure a Florence flask such as olive oil is usually sold in, and clean it out by washing the inside well, first with a strong solution of soda and small pieces of brown paper, and then with clean water; turn it up mouth downwards, and let it drain well. Great care is required in bending tubes; because if you do it suddenly, or bend it too violently, the tubes become puckered, and full of cracks, so that when they are heated or cooled too suddenly they are apt to break. If the tube be cooled too suddenly after being bent, it is very liable to break, because its contraction is unequal. The reason is this: glass is a bad conductor of heat, and as the radiation` of heat is greater from the outer than the inner surface of the tube, the inner surface becomes expanded, because its heat is not radiated in the same proportion as the outer surface, and therefore it offers a resistance to the outer or contracted surface, which consequently snaps. The object is to prevent unequal contraction of the tube, and this is only to be done by diation. too by Push out When the tube has been bent into the the Hame of the spirit-lamp for a as to round off the edges. on vitu THE YOUNG ARTIST.HT at proper shape, heat each end of it lte, se love antiquity, is the city of Avignon, in Provence. History tells how it was, one time, the residence of princes, and nobles, and even of the arch-potentate of the medieval age himself, the Pope And were history silent, the splendid buildings that remain would sufficiently attest its former grandeur, which is now remembered only as a tradition, for the glory of Avignon is departed of 200 More than one hundred and twenty years ago, or, to be precise, on a fine afternoon in the year 1730, one of those clumsy vehicles which the French are pleased to style diligences, was lumbering its heavy way through a bye-street of Avignon. A more ill-fashioned conveyance never kindled the wrath, 955 excited the national gratulation of an Englishman. Long and lank in proportions. with tardished gilding and patches of rubbed paint for its decorations, the diligence was dragged along by three rawboned animals, who were held together by was a very curiosity for its attired in a faded blue jacket, d entanglements; the posti 4. To make evaporating dishes. Procure a Florence flask, clean it as Les fazon directed before (§ 2), and be sure that it is thoroughly dry. Take a triangular file, slightly scratch the flask the end of it, then run dofthe point of a piece of heated wire in the required direction. Thus, if passed in the direction de, or fg, in the 29 annexed figure, you will have deep evaporating dishes; yeasly ati no if in the directions ao and 6o you will have shallow Hi sidiel arow ones with tips; if from 6 tog, you will have a very shallow one for evaporating small samples of fluid. Portions of a Florence flask will be quite as useful, or remnants of retorts, which may be cut into circular dishes by bending a piece of stout iron wire into the form given in the annexed Ovom of aged 999gilib ads yu9297¶ -fotoda and besiga sbual aut otmi aid to note to smo jail best on 29-wollt di mot bereits vad reum and in diagrama, fitting it into a wooden handle, and then making it hot, apply it sud denly to the portion of flask or bretort, and then remove it. This will cause the glass to crack in a circular form. (See $3) 1h 5. To make a funnel-Scratch then flask in a line parallel to (in the figure above), commencing at d, and proceed as directed for making evaporating dishes. W od ad I New tight to vie c3 berotansit bad ad has gained to f mid baidgilab oz ford wor : 1905 bus. 9010) Isyen das baigua abw bus GUILT, though it may attain temporal splendour, can never confer real happiness. The evident consequence of our crimes long survive their commission, and, like the ghosts of the murdered, for ever haunt the steps of the malefactor. The paths of virtue, though seldom those of worldly greatness, are always those of pleasantness and peace. Sir Walter Scott.ft Bon jour, camerade," said he to an elderly man, very poorly habited, who came e up immediately afterwards, how now, friend Vernet, surely you are not going to leave old Avignon behind you? I would as soon miss the cathedral from its place, as you from your workshop. hamur 39971-7 bus noti 201 No, Pierre, but my son is going with you to Marseilles."ninoys Titmus 299alliz To Marseilles! Well, I guessed how it would end. Monsieur Claude's desire for roving is making him leave the nest early, though, neighbour's horser The person addressed had evidently no desire to satisfy the garrulous postilion's curiosity, and while the latter fumbled in a repository of cords, Is, and thongs, and about him, for the miles from Avignon, the greater part of two days was generally employed in the journey. Towards the middle of the next day the travellers approached their destination. buckles, which he bore harness, the A steep, rocky road was surmounted with wherewithal to father and son drew aside to speak a few Fear not for me, my father," replied the young man, whose smooth cheek and pliant form showed that he could not be more than seventeen at farthest. "If application and industry can succeed they succeed interrupted his father with earnestness," nothing can be done without them. If you had the genius of Michael Angelo, and had not his industry, you could never rise beyond mediocrity. I was sidle in my youth, slow and wearisome steps by the diligence; and when the summit of the eminence was reached, the horses paused an instant that the drag might be attached for the descent. What a view met the astonished eyes of Claude! Before him lay the sea--the glorious Mediterranean itself, still as the breathless calm of a July noon could make it; blue as the rich ether of a moonlit sky, save where a slight fringe of white foam chafed against the sandy shore. Many vessels of all sizes, from the huge man-of-war to the frail boat of the fisherman lay on its glassy surface; and a few islets were visible in the hazy distance, couched like sleeping guardians of the bay. On the busy seene in the harbour, Claude never e glanced; but with his hands clasped Claude, and bitterly I lament it now; for which only an artist or costasy I have found that no after toil can make up for lost time and opportunities. Believe me poet can feel, he murmured to himself"The sea! the sea!" » * Presently the diligence began to move again. But Claude seized his sketchbook, and bounded from his seat into the road, to the no small consternation of his fellow-travellers, who feared that some of his bones must have suffered from the incautions spring. He flung himself down on the grass by the roadside, and actually panted with delight, fotog Pierre having put the harness in working order, cracked his long whip impatiently at this juncture; so the father and son bid a hurried adieu, and Claude, with his cyes brimful of tears, clambered up to an elevated seat in front of the roof of the diligence. With a whoop from the postilion, and a startled awakening on the part of the drowsy horses, and a jingle of the fifty | Sunset found him on the same spot; the little bells hung from their great wooden other occupants of the diligence had made collars, and an unwilling creak of the an effort to reclaim him; but finding that heavy wheels, the machine was again set he preferred to remain where he was, they in motion. And thus it jogged on, at naturally thought that his choice, however first by the bank of the "arrowy Rhone," whimsical, was no business of theirs," and and then through the fertile plains of peaceably went their way. In the hours Provence, leaving a glorious barrier of that had since passed, he had transferred to snow-capped mountains far to the left; paper the view which so delighted him, sometimes across impetuous torrents, and and was surprised at the unusual force and past old pepper-box chateaux and vine-spirit of his own delineation. But it was covered cottages; now where groves of because he had that day drank in the citron and orange-trees perfumed the air, inspiration which stamps genius with imand then through slovenly malodorous mortality. villages, until evening was far advanced, and it halted for the night in the marketplace of a dilapidated looking town. Such was the primitive state of travelling at that period, that though Marseilles is not sixty Poor Claude! all his enthusiasm could not keep him from feeling very hungry, as he gathered up his crayons and prepared to resume his journey. Happily for him, the city was not a mile distant, and he found little difficulty in obtaining accommodation for the night; perhaps because the good innkeepers saw that he was a promising subject for their extortions. A galley conveying merchandise to Leghorn set sail early the next morning, with Claude Vernet on board as a passenger. How delighted was he to find himself on the waters, which bounded beneath the little vessel like a race-horse! But towards mid-day a vexatious calm came on, and the crew were obliged to work hard at the oar. This calm proved, as is often the case, only a prelude to a violent storm. In the evening, dense clouds arose out of the west, and swept across the sky, seeming to extinguish the setting sun in their heavy folds. A stiff breeze commenced to blow from the same quarter, which increased in strength hourly, till it became a perfect tempest. Claude had been always remarkable for his fearless nature; and now, when the waves rolled as if they would swallow up the little bark, and the lightning glared fearfully at intervals, revealing nothing but a wide waste of tumbling waters, he felt more the excitement of one viewing a highly interesting panorama, than the anxiety of one whose life was concerned in the elemental conflict. Nothing could induce him to leave the deck, as others had done, and seek a temporary shelter below. "Santa Maria!" ejaculated a terrified sailor, seeing Claude clinging to the gunwale while he looked out upon the storm, "Will not the young Signor come? San Giacomo, ora pro nobis !" This ejaculation was elicited by a vivid flash of lightning, which lit up the whole scene for several seconds; and immediately afterwards, a tremendous peal of thunder burst overhead. "My friend," said Claude, in that kind of whisper which can be heard equally well in the loudest tumult as in the deepest stillness; "I will give you a crown if you lash me to the mast, for my hold here is slippery enough." The mast, Signor! it bends like a reed under the wind. I might almost as well throw you overboard, Signor."" There is quite as much danger here," replied Claude. A mountainous wave swept over the deck, as if to verify his assertion. "The galley will be swamped! we shall be all drowned!" exclaimed the sailor, în a piteous tone. "Truly, Signor, you had better come below though to be sure a crown is a crown, however earned." With this salvo to his conscience, and muttering many a prayer meanwhile to the whole galaxy of saints, he took advantage of a momentary lull in the storm to accomplish what Claude desired. The latter strongly resembled a victim bound for sacrifice, as he then stood, breasting the furious storm. But his experience was not too dearly bought; that perilous night made him the first storm-painter in Europe. When morning dawned, the tempest gradually abated, as if the light had some sedative influence on the elements. The galley was in a sad plight; her sails were torn in tatters, and the rigging hung in a perfect fringe of ends. She had been driven far out of her course in the night; and the master determined to take shelter in the nearest port, which proved to be Civita Vecchia. This arrangement brought Claude within thirty-five miles of Rome. The few louis-d'ors he had possessed on leaving Avignon, and which then seemed almost an exhaustless fund to his inexperience, were now become much fewer indeed. So exerting an unusual degree of prudence, he resolved to avoid the expense of a conveyance to Rome, and set out to walk the distance. In the evening of the second day after the storm, he approached the Imperial City. But, long as it had been the goal of his most ardent hopes, and grand as were its piles of buildings, studded with spires and domes of surpassing magnificence, clear and rich as was the colouring of the landscape now bathed in the soft glow of an Italian sunset-he did not here experience anything like the emotion that overwhelmed him at his first sight of the sea. That scene had never ceased to be present to his mental vision. The surging voice of the sea had sounded in his sleeping and waking dreams ever since. It had become his soul-music. Rome was as fairy-land to the young artist. With deep delight he looked upon St. Peter's, that grand epic poem in |