downward, and the plumula on the contrary invariably ascends, required the cause ?

6 Qu. (72) By the same. From whence originates the caloric produced by friction; from the body rubbed, or from some other source?

7 Qu. (73) By the same. Draw the line of distinction between the electric and galvanic fluids.

8 Qu. (74) By Mr. A. Hirst, Marsden. If a thermometer be put under a receiver, and it be exhausted of air; will the focus of a burning lens thrown upon the thermometer have any effect in rais:-ing it? If not-required the reason.

9 Qu. (75) By the same. The heat of the sun's rays may be felt through a window, (or even ice), but this is not the case with the heat of a culinary fire, or any artificial heat-Query the cause?

10 Qu. (76) By the same. It is an old maxim, that if the sky be red in the west after sunset, it betokens that the succeeding day will be fine-Query, what is the cause of this redness, and what degree of credit ought to be given to this assertion ? 11 Qu. (77) By Mr. M. Borough, * of Rebroyd-bridge,

near Halifur. What is the cause of the sweet taste of a frosted. potatoe?

12 Qu. (78) By Mr. S. Lavel, Boston. Why do distillers use raw grain with their malt ?

13 Qu. (79) By Mr. Malt. It is a common opinion, that malt brewed in large quantities is more productive than when brewed in * This query was also proposed by Mr. John Nowell, of Farnley,

1

smaller portions; as for instance, that eight bushels will make a hogshead of stronger ale, than four bushels will make half a hogshead, or two bushel a quarter cask, &c.—Is this opinion correct?

14 Qu. (80) By Mr. A. Nesbit, Farnley. How are we to account for the peopling of America, which was unknown to the rest of the world, until the year 1492, when it was found inhabited, not only by human beings, as also with birds and beasts, differing in general from those of the old world ?

: 15 Qu. (81) By Mr. J. Nowell. Hay stacked green and soft, will heat and become brown; some grooms say that hay in this state is better for horses, as it causes them to drink more-is this assertion true or false; if true, what is the reason ?

16 Qu.(82) By the same. It is said that a barberry bush growing in a field of corn, causes mildew around to a certain extent is this true, if so, required the reason ?

17 Qu. (83) By Mr. M. Phoston. From what is the word Epiphany derived, and what is understood to be celebrated by this annual feast?

18 Qu. (84) By the same. Can the annual custom of eating twelfth-cake, be 'traced to any satisfactory source ?.

WHERE dost thou dwell,
Goddess of the opiate spell?
I've sought thee in the rural shade,
The upland lawn, the silent glade:
For thee I've sigh'd in gloom of night,
Sought thee at morn's first dawning light;
I've chas'd thee o'er the troubled deep;,
I've woo'd thee in the arms of sleep;
Pursu'd thee in gay pleasure's round;
I've chas'd thee through the maxy dance,
And follow'd thee through heaven's expanse;
Have call'd thee from the shades! below,
And sougḥt thee midst the Alpine snow: :

The painter's art, the poet's fire,
Th’historic page, Apollo's lyre,
Have all been ransack'd, but in vain,,
To ease my heart's corroding pain,
To bring the leaden-scepter'd queen,
Of frozen look and absent mien.
Forgetfulness ! coy nymph with poppies crown'd,
Whose vacant eye unheeding gazes round, ,
O take me in thy arms!
Lull me with thy potent charms;
Pour oblivion in my heart,
And tear the sting from memory's dart,
Till every pulse that us'd to thrill
Be like a midnight slumber still.
Oh let me in some druid's wood be laid,
Where never human feet invade

Its consecrated shade!
Save when the priest,

From cares releas'd,
Walks musing forth at evening hour;.
And careless plucks his favourite flower,

The primrose ! emblem of that frigid state,
That apathy of heart, which now, too late,
I almost wish had been my kinder fate.

Yet still me who,
A prey to woe
That springs from love,

Would wish to prove
The calm from apathy that springs?
O rather let the stings
Of disappointed love for ever rage ;
Still let my love and reason wage
Unequal war. Yet O! in pity strew
O'er my scorch'd heart the cooling dew
Shook from the nightshade's baneful flower,
Gather'd in Pluto's gloomy bower :
Let poisonous plants my head enshroud,
Let juice of hemloc be

my

food. Oh nymph with poppies crown'd, Shed thy dull power

around; Let thy dark mantle ravish from my

view Inconstant youth! your perjuries and you.

THE WILD-ROSE.

BY MARIANNE MEGGETT.

How oft doth merit pine alone,
Neglected live, unpiiied die !
How oft doth beauty bloom unknown,
And unadmir'd that beauty fly!
How oft are gaudy fools caress'd,
Who, spoilt by flättry's smooth disguise,
In studied grandeur vainly dress'd,
Without one charm attract all eyes?
Within the windings of a wood
A beauteous wild-rose lonely grew,
Near to a shady bower it stood,
And unmolested there it blew.
One eve the little Helen stroll'd
Alone to taste the cooling air ;
She sought the wood, and, uncontrollida
The little vagrant wander'd far;

She saw this rose which grac'd the bower,
She reach'd her band to pull it straight,
And Flora trembled for the flower.
She lov'd, and wept its wretched fate.
But Helen turn’d disdainful by,
And cried, “ You pale, insipid rose!
I'll leave

you

here with weeds to vie,
For you can only vie with those.
“ I love the rich parterre's gay sight,
Where purple, blue, and scarlet shine;
The tulip is my heart's delight,
In her those colours all combine,"
The little Helen's infant choice
Displays the world's fantastic taste,
High station gains its partial voice,
And grandeur's sure to be caress’d.
An unassuming, open heart,
Simplicity of dress and mind
Insipid seem, while turgid art
And gilded fortune friends will find.

MY HUSBAND.
Who view'd my face with fond delight,
And thought my eyes, with lustre bright,
Eclips'd the stars that shine by night?

My husband!
When join’d at Hymen's holy shrine,
What raptrous draughts of bliss were mine!
Love drew my trembling heart to thine,

My husband! And when our little boy was born, Who watch'd my bed from night till morn, And sigh’d, and look'd like one forlorn ?

My husband'! Who wept for joy to see me mend, Whate'er

my

heart would wish for send ? Oh! how shall I describe

my
friend,

My husband !