Some writers consider that the dry-rot is not essentially different from the more common kinds of decay; but there seems to be sufficient reason for the distinction which has usually been drawn. The prevention of the evil has been attempted in various ways, and with some degree of success. necessary than that of thorough seasoning. But when it is to be exposed to the vicissitudes of weather, and still more when it is to remain in a warm and moist atmosphere, its preservation often becomes extremely difficult. Numerous experiments have been made, and many volumes writIt is agreed by most writers that the sap of ten, upon the preservation of timber and the prevegetables is the great cause of their fermenta-vention of the dry-rot; but the subject is not yet tion and decay. Hence it appears desirable, if brought to a satisfactory conclusion. The meththere is any season in which the trunk of a tree ods which have hitherto been found most sucis less charged with sap than at others, that this cessful consist in extracting the sap, in excluding time should be selected for felling it. The middle the moisture, and in impregnating the vessels of of summer and the middle of winter are, undoubt- the wood with antiseptic substances. edly, the periods when the wood contains least For extracting the sap, the process of watersap. In the months of spring and autumn, in seasoning is recommended. It consists in imwhich the roots prepare sap, but no leaves exist mersing the green timber in clear water for about to expend it, the trunk is overcharged with sap; two weeks, after which it is taken out, and seaand in many instances, as the maple and birch, soned in the usual manner. A great part of the sap will flow out at these seasons if the trunk is sap, together with the soluble and fermentable wounded. In summer, on the contrary, when the matter, is said to be dissolved or removed by this leaves are out, the sap is rapidly expended; and process. Running water is more effectual than in winter, when the roots are dormant, it is spar- that which is stagnant. It is necessary that the ingly produced; so that no surplus of this fluid timber should be sunk, so as to be completely apparently exists. From reasoning à priori, it under water, since nothing is more destructive to would seem that no treatment would be so effec- wood than partial immersion. Mr. Langton has tual in getting rid of the greatest quantity of sap proposed to extract the sap by means of an airas to girdle the tree, by cutting away a ring of pump, the timber being closed in tight cases, with alburnum, in the early part of summer, thus put-a temperature somewhat elevated, and the sap ting a stop to the further ascent of the sap, and being discharged in vapor by the operation of the then to suffer it to stand until the leaves should pump. It appears extremely probable that if trees have expended, by their growth or transpiration, all were felled in summer, and the buts immediately the fluid which could be extracted by them, pre-placed in water without removing the branches, a viously to the death of the tree. The wood would thus, probably, be found in the driest state to which any treatment could reduce it in the living state. Buffon has recommended stripping the trees of their bark in spring, and felling them in the subsequent autumn. This method is said to harden the alburnum; but the success is not at all certain. great part of their sap would be expended by the vegetative process alone, and replaced by water. It is well known that branches of plants, if inserted in water, continue for some days to grow, to transpire, and to perform their other functions. This they probably do at the expense of the sap, or assimilated fluid, which was previously in them, while they replace it by the water they consume. This state of things continues until the juices are too far diluted to be capable any longer of sustaining life. The charring of timber, by scorching or burning its outside, is commonly supposed to increase its durability; but, on this subject, the results of experiment do not agree. Charcoal is one of the At whatever period timber is felled, it requires to be thoroughly seasoned before it is fit for the purposes of carpentry. This object of seasoning is partly to evaporate as much of the sap as possible, and thus to prevent its influence in causing decomposition, and partly to reduce the dimensions of the wood, so that it may be used without inconvenience from its further shrinking. Timber most durable of vegetable substances; but the seasons best when placed in dry situations, where conversion of the surface of wood into charcoal the air has a free circulation round it. Gradual does not necessarily alter the character of the drying is considered a better preservative of wood interior part. As far, however, as it may operate than a sudden exposure to warmth, even of the in excluding worms, and arresting the spreading sun; for warmth, abruptly applied, causes cracks of an infectious decay, like the dry-rot, it is useand flaws, from the sudden and unequal expansion ful. Probably, also, the pyroligneous acid, which produced in different parts. Two or three years' is generated when wood is burnt, may exert a seasoning is requisite to produce tightness and preservative influence. The exclusion of moisdurability in the woodwork of buildings. It must ture, by covering the surface with a coating of be observed that seasoning in the common way only removes a portion of the aqueous and volatile matter from the wood. The extractive, and other soluble portions still remain, and are liable to ferment, though in a less degree, whenever the wood reabsorbs the moisture. Such, indeed, is the force of capillary attraction that wood exposed to the atmosphere in our climate, never gives up all its moisture. When wood is to be kept in a dry situation, as in the interior of houses, no other preparation is paint, varnish, tar, &c., is a well-known preservative of wood which is exposed to the weather. If care is taken to renew the coat of paint as often as it decays, wood on the outside of buildings is sometimes made to last for centuries. But painting is no preservative against the internal or dryrot. On the contrary, when this disease is begun, the effect of paint, by choking the pores of wood, and preventing the exhalation of vapors and gases which are formed, tends rather to expedite than prevent the progress of decay. Paint itself is endered more durable by covering it with a coat- in regard to the health of crews, if used in large ing of fine sand. Wood should never be painted quantities about the wood of a ship, may be conBritish Cyclopedia. which is not thoroughly seasoned. The impreg-sidered as doubtful. nation of wood with tar, bitumen, and other resinous substances, undoubtedly promotes its-preservation. It is the opinion of some writers, that "woods abounding in resinous matter cannot be more durable than others;" but the reverse of this is proved, every year, in the pine-forests of America, where the lightwood, as it is called, consisting of the knots and other resinous parts of pinetrees remains entire, and is collected for the purpose of affording tar, long after the remaining wood of the tree has decayed. A coating of tar or turpentine, externally applied to seasoned timber, answers the same purpose as paint in protecting the wood, if it is renewed with sufficient frequency. Wood impregnated with drying oils, such as linseed oil, becomes harder, and more capable of resisting moisture. It is frequently the custom, in this country, to bore a perpendicular hole in the top of a mast, and fill it with oil. This fluid is gradually absorbed by the vessels of the wood, and penetrates the mast to a great distance. Animal oils, in general, are less proper for this purpose, being more liable to decomposition. The preservative quality of common salt (muriate of soda) is well known. An example of its effect is seen in the hay of salt marshes, which is frequently housed before it is dry, and which often becomes damp afterward, from the deliquescence of its salt, yet remains unchanged for an indefinite length of time. In the salt-mines of Poland and Hungary, the galleries are supported by wooden pillars, which are found to last unimpaired for ages, in consequence of being impregnated with the salt, while pillars of brick and stone, used for the same purpose, crumble away in a short time, Wooden piles, by the decay of their mortar. driven into the mud of salt flats and marshes, last for an unlimited time, and are used for the foundations of brick and stone edifices. The application of salt, in very minute quantities, is said rather to hasten than prevent the decay of vege table and animal bodies. Yet the practice of docking timber, by immersing it for sometime in sea-water, after it has been seasoned, is generally admitted to promote its durability. There are some experiments which appear to show that, after the dry-rot has commenced, immersion in salt and prewater effectually checks its progress, serves the remainder of the timber. A variety of other substances, besides common salt, act as antiseptics in preventing the dry-rot, and the growth of the fungus which attends it. Nitre and alum have been recommended for this purpose; and some of the metallic salts are considered still more effectual. Of these, the sulphates of iron, copper, and zinc, have the effect of hardening and preserving the timber. Wood boiled in a solution of the former of these, and afterward kept some days in a warm place to dry, is said to become impervious to moisture. Corrosive sublimate, which was recommended by Sir Humphrey Davy, is a powerful preservative of organized substances from decay, and proves destructive to parasitic vegetables and animals; but its safety, VOL. IV.-54 THE following beautiful song, from the New York Knicker< bocker Magazine, is from the pen of Willis Gaylord Clarke, editor of the Philadelphia Gazette In the last stanzas, the allusion to the death of his young and lovely wife, is an expression of the deepest feeling of heart-desolation. A SONG OF MAY. The spring's scented buds all around me are smiling; A As float the pure day-beams o'er mountain and vale; He A welcomes the gladness, and glory, returning To rest on the promise and hope of the year. They tell of the Past, with so mournful a tone, Which coloreth life with the hues of a dream: Or sees but my youth, and the visions it gave. It is shut to the glow of this present existence It hears, from the Past, a funeral strain; Where grief bears no longer the poisonous sting; It I is thus that the hopes which to others are given, Fall cold on my heart in this rich month of May; Delights not my bosom, ah! do not condemn : For my heart's fondest raptures are buried with them. THE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. I saw him again at his interview with Rochambeau, when they met to settle the plan of combined THE beautiful effusion which the reader will find operations between the French fleet and the Ameribelow, is the production of the chaste and classic can armies, against the British on the Chesapeake ; mind of the late venerable and distinguished Sena- and then I saw the immense crowd.drawn together tor from Rhode Island, Mr. Robbins, and was occa- from all the neighboring towns, to get, if possible, sioned by the following circumstances: During the one look at the man who had throned himself in session of 1837-8, Mr. Webster entertained a large every heart. Not one of that immense crowd party of friends at dinner; among them the venera- doubted the final triumph of his country in her arduble Senator we have named. The evening passed ous conflict; for every one saw, or thought he saw, off with much hilarity, enlivened with wit and senti- in WASHINGTON, her guardian angel, commissioned ment; but, during the greater part of the time, by Heaven to insure to her that triumph. Nil desMr. Robbins maintained that grave but placid silence perandum was the motto with every one. which was his habit. While thus apparently ab"Nil desperandum, Teucro duce, auspice Teucro." stracted, some one suddenly called on him for a toast, which call was seconded by the company. In after life, when the judgment corrects the exHe rose, and in his surprise, asked if they were travagance of early impressions, I saw him on several serious in making such a demand of so old a man; occasions, but saw nothing at either to admonish me and being assured that they were, he said if they of any extravagance in my early impressions. The would suspend their hilarity for a few moments he impression was still the same; I had the same overwould give them a toast and preface it with a few powering sense of being in the presence of some observations. Having thus secured a breathless superior being. stillness, he went on to remark that they were then It is indeed remarkable, and I believe unique in on the verge of the 22d of February, the anniver- the history of men, that WASHINGTON made the sary of the birth of the great patriot and statesman of same impression upon all minds, at all places, and our country, whom all delighted to remember and to at once. When his fame first broke upon the honor, and he hoped he might be allowed the privilege world, it spread at once over the whole world.of an aged man to recur for a few moments to past By the consent of mankind-by the universal senevents connected with his character and history. timent he was placed at the head of the human He then proceeded, and delivered in the most happy species; above all envy, because above all emulation : and impressive manner, the beautiful speech which for no one then pretended or has pretended to be now graces our columns. The whole company at least who has been allowed to be-the corrival were electrified by his patriotic enthusiasm; and of WASHINGTON in fame. one of the guests, before they separated, begged that When the great Frederick of Prussia sent his he would take the trouble to put on paper what he portrait to WASHINGTON, with this inscription had so happily expressed, and furnish a copy for upon it, "From the oldest General in Europe to the publication. M. R. obligingly complied with this greatest General in the world," he did but echo the request on the following day, but by some accident sentiment of all the chivalry of Europe. Nor was the manuscript got mislaid, and eluded all search the sentiment, confined to Europe, nor to the bounda for it until a few days ago, when it was unexpected- of civilization; for the Arab of the Desert talked of ly recovered, and is now presented to our readers: WASHINGTON in his tent; his name wandered with "On the near approach of that calendar-day the wandering Scythian, and was cherished by him which gave birth to WASHINGTON, I feel rekindling as a household word in all his migrations. No within me some of those emotions always connected country was so barbarous as to be a stranger to the with the recollection of that hallowed name. Permit name; but every where, and by all men, that name me to indulge them, on this occasion, for a moment, was placed at the same point of elevation, and above in a few remarks, as preliminary to a sentiment which I shall beg leave to propose. compeer. As it was in the beginning, so it is now; of the future we cannot speak with certainty. Some I consider it as one of the consolations of my age future age, in the endless revolutions of time, may that I am old enough and fortunate enough to have produce another WASHINGTON; but the greater proseen that wonderful man. This happiness is still bability is that he is destined to remain forever, as common to so many yet among the living, that he now is, the Phoenix of human kind. less is thought of it now than will be in after What a possession to his country is such a fame! times; but it is no less a happiness to me on that such a account. "Clarum et venerabile nomen While a boy at school, I saw him for the first time; it was when he was passing through New To all his countrymen it gives, and forever will give, England to take the command-in-chief of the Ameri-a passport to respect wherever they go, to whatever can armies at Cambridge. Never shall I forget the part of the globe; for his country is in every other impression his imposing presence then made upon identified with that fame. my young imagination; so superior did he seem to me to all that I had seen or imagined of the human form for striking effect. I remember with what delight, in my after studies, I came to the line in Virgil that expressed all the enthusiasm of my own feelings, as inspired by that presence, and which I could not often enough repeat: "Credo equidem, nec vara fides, genas esse deorum." What, then, is incumbent upon us, his countrymen? Why, to be such a People as shall be worthy of such a fame-a people of whom it shall be said, "No wonder such a people have produced such a man as WASHINGTON." I give you, therefore, this sentiment: The memory of WASHINGTON: May his countrymen prove themselves a people worthy of his fame. con vania. This cession was accepted, and was sidered to be an indirect acknowledgment that her claim was well founded. A SCRAP OF HISTORY. It may be interesting if not new to our readers, to be informed in what way the State of Connecticut This tract is known as the Western Reserve, and became possessed of that portion of the State of includes the counties of Ashtabula, Trumbull, PorOhio known as the Western Reserve. To gratify tage, Geauga, Cuyahoga, Medina, Lorain, Huron the curiosity often manifested on this subject, we and Erie. A part of the tract was granted by the have rummaged over some old musty tomes, in our State to the inhabitants of New London, Fairfield possession, and will now lay the sum and substance and Norwalk, whose property had been destroyed of our rescarches before the reader. by the British troops during the war. The remainder was sold in 1795, and the money arising from the sale appropriated to the purpose of constituting a perpetual fund, for the support of schools in the State.-Ohio City Transcript. The original charter of the State of Connecticut was granted by Charles II, in 1662. The charter defined the limits of the State as follows: WIMPPAGNO'S GRAVE. From the south line of Massachusetts on the north, to Long Island Sound on the south, and from the Naraganset River on the east, to the Pacific Ocean on the west. It will be seen by reference to a map, that these boundaries would enclose not only what is now the State of Connecticut, but also por- THERE are few, if any, of the gay and joyous tions of the States of New York and New Jersey- ones, who ride so frequently down the river for renearly one half of Pennsylvania-all of the northern creation and, pleasure, that even notice, as they go portion of the State of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois- merrily on, a small mound of earth a short distance and a goodly part of the territories of Iowa, Missouri, this side of Millcreek, whose base is watered by a and Oregon. There was a clause in the charter, however, which excepted from its operations such portions as were then occupied by prior settlers This exception. excluded such parts of N. York and N. Jersey as were within the prescribed limits. A dispute arising between New York and Connecticut, as to the boundaries between these States, it was settled by commissioners, appointed by the king, in 1664, who decided that Maroneck river should be the western boundary of Connecticut. For nearly a century thereafter, Connecticut neglected to claim or settle any part of their territory west of New York, and a charter being granted to William Penn, in 1681, embracing all that part of the same which lies within the present State of Pennsylvania, a dispute ultimately arose between the two colonies, as to the right of possession in the disputed territory. Both colonies sold the same land, and each guaranteed to the purchasers undisturbed possession. This excited innumerable quarrels, and resort was often had to force of arms, to expel the intruders. little running stream, which terminates its gentle meanderings, by its confluence with the beautiful Ohio, having for its outlet a culvert, over which the road passes. This spot presented a far different appearance some fifty-four years ago, at which period, nothing but the fierce howl of the wolf, or the screechings of the midnight owl could be heard, save when the rifle gave forth its shrill crack, as the daring hunter pursued his game, or the whoop of the wily Indian resounded, when passing through this dense forest of beech and maple trees, from one ridge to another. I will narrate a. legend touching this mound, which perhaps may prove interesting, and keep alive the thrilling incidents connected therewith. "Twas near this spot, on an eve in the month of September, 17-, when the sun in all his golden ra diance, was slowly sinking behind the western hills, and painting up the heavens with the most brilliant erubescent tinge, that a white man, habited in the rough garb of a hunter of those early days, was sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, admiring the magIn 1770, the Legislature of Connecticut transmit-nificence of the scene, whilst a shaggy dog, his only ted to England certain questions to be presented to companion, was reposing at his feet. He had sat the most able lawyers, respecting her title to lands thus sometime, perfectly enchanted with nature's west of New York. The answers were favorable to grand display, when his quick ear caught the sound her claims, and determined the colony to maintain of crackling leaves and branches, indicating that an them. The revolutionary war happening soon after, animal, or an enemy, was near at hand. He immesuspended further proceedings, until after the close. diately sprang behind a tree, and silenced the growlIn 1781, the two States agreed to appoint commis-ing of his dog, whose sense of approaching footsteps sioners to determine the dispute. An act of ConThe noise which he heard had ceased, and on gress was passed, granting to these commissioners full powers to act in the final settling of this long peering out cautiously from behind the tree, the hunpending controversy. The commissioners met at ter discovered the dark form of an Indian, half hidTrenton, in November, 1782. After a full hearing den by the body of a large oak, who had his rifle in of the matter in question, they decided that Connec- his hands, ready for any emergency that might reticut had no right to the lands in dispute. Here the quire the use of it as he too appeared to be on his matter, so far as Pennsylvania was concerned, rested. guard, having heard the low growling of the dog.— The State of Connecticut, notwithstanding, still At this instant the dog also spied the Indian, and laid claims to all lands lying west of Pennsylvania, barked aloud, which told the Indian of the proximity To raise his rifle was but the work and extending to the Mississippi river. To avoid of his enemy. had quickly been awakened. future troubles, however, the Legislature agreed to of a moment, and the distinct cracks of two weapons cede all these lands to Congress, with the exception were heard almost at the same time. The Indian's of a tract of one hundred and twenty miles in length, fell from his hands, as the ball of the hunter's had lying immediately west of the west line of Pennsyl-penetrated, and broken the elbow of his left arm, while the hunter escaped unhurt. Before the Indian NAPOLEON AND THE BRITISH SOLDIER. could possibly re-load his rifle in his wounded condition, the hunter had rushed swiftly upon him with his knife, but not before the Indian had drawn his. The first thrust was parried off by the Indian with the greatest skill, and the shock was so great in the effort, that the hunter's weapon was thrown some thirty feet from him. Nothing daunted, he threw himself upon the Indian with all his force, and seized him around the body; at the same time encircling the right arm, in which the Indian still grasped his knife. The Indian, however, was a very muscular fellow, and the conflict now seemed doubtful indeed. The savage was striving with all his might to release his arm, in order to use his knife. In the struggle their feet became interlocked, and they both fell to the ground, the Indian uppermost, which extricated the Indian's arm from the iron grasp of the hunter. He was making his greatest endeavors to use his knife, but could not, from the position in which they were lying, as the hunter soon forced him over on his right side, and consequently he could have no use of his arm. Just at this point of the deadly conflict, the Indian gave an appalling yell, and with renewed strength, placed the hunter underneath him again, and with a most exulting cry of victory, as he sat upon his body, raised his arm for the fatal plunge. The hunter saw death before his eyes, and gave himself up for lost, when just at this most critical juncture, his faithful dog, who had not been an uninterested observer of the scene, sprang forward and seized the Indian's wrist, which caused the weapon to fall harmless from his hand. The hunter seeing such a sudden change in his fate, made one last and desperate effort for his life, and threw the Indian from him. Before the prostrate savage had time to recover himself, the hunter had seized his knife, and with redoubled energy rushed upon him, and with his foot firmly planted on the Indian's breast, he plunged the weapon up to the hilt in his heart. The savage gave one convulsive shudder, and was no more. The hunter now bethought himself of wending his way homeward, as the sun had set far in the west, and twilight was fast enwrapping every thing in obscurity. As soon as he had possessed himself of his rifle, together with the Indian's weapons, he started immediately on his way. He had not gone but a short distance, when his ears were assailed by the startling whoop of a number of Indians. He ran eagerly for the river, and fortunately finding a canoe on the beach near the water, was soon out of reach of danger, and safely lodged in the encampment among his own companions, to whom he recounted his adventure. The Indians came up to the place of the recent rencounter, and discovered the body of a fallen comrade. They gave a most hideous yell, when upon examination they recognised in the dead Indian, the features of one of their bravest chiefs. After a short consultation, they bore the body to a brook near at hand, in the middle of which there was a spot of ground, forming a small island. This they selected as the burial place. Having dug a grave sufficiently large to admit the body, they carefully placed it in, and covered it over with clay and stones, and then threw up the earth that now forms this small mound where rests the remains of the once great chief Wimppagno.-Cincinnati Republican. To England nearer! At last when care had banished sleep, He saw, one morning-dreaming-doating, He hid it in a cave, and wrought By mighty working! Heaven help us! 'twas a thing beyond For ploughing in the salt sea field- From neighboring woods, he interlaced The French guard caught him on a beach- With folded arms Napoleon stood, Addressed the stranger : "Rash youth, that wouldst yon channel pass, "I have no sweetheart," said the lad; "And so thou shalt!" Napoleon said, He gave the tar a piece of gold; And with a flag of truce, commanded Our sailor oft could scantly shift, To find a dinner plain and hearty; 2016 |