and the sailor looking back, sees him sowing his field with the graceful idyl of summer and harvest. Little did the needlewoman dream that she was stitching passion and pathos into her weary seam, till Hood came and found them there.

LOVE OF FAMILY AND OF COUNTRY.-The wondrous skill of the Creator is not more clearly evidenced in the harmonies of the material than of the spiritual world. There is a well-ordered harmony of the affection. The grand and true development of any single one can not be realized without the grand and true development of all. This is illustrated by the harmony between love of family and of country. Says Dr. John Harris:

I am aware that a few ancient philosophers maintained that, according to the example of the Lacedemonians, the family ought to be abolished; that the children should be handed over to the state. But experience is wiser than speculation. The well-ordered family is the very home of patriotism. When "he of battle-martyrs chief," Leonidas, devoted himself for the good of his country, why did he select as his companions in death men who had families-why but because he knew that for them patriotism was a grave reality? When the Swiss patriot, Arnold, of Winkelried, saw, at the famous battle of Sempach, that his countrymen could not break through the mailed wall of hostile lances, he advanced, exclaiming, "Dear confederates, I will open a path for you; think of my wife and dearest children!" and

"Shaped an open space,

By gath'ring with a wide embrace, Into his single heart, a sheaf

Of fatal Austrian spears."

And who can say how much he was inspired by the thought that in that very act he was purchasing with his blood liberty for the land of his wife and children? A well-ordered family is not only a source of happiness to all within its hallowed circle; it is a blessing to the community.

PROCESS OF DYING.-The mysteriousness of the process of dying, connected with the still more mysterious future destiny, has often disturbed the quiet of the soul. Says the London Quarterly:

The pain of dying must be distinguished from the pain of the previous disease, for when life ebbs sensibility declines. As death is the final extinction of corporeal feelings, a numbness increases as death comes on. The prostration of disease, like healthful fatigue, engenders a growing stupor, a sensation of subsiding softly into a coveted repose. The transition resembles what may be seen in those lofty mountains whose sides exhibit every climate in regular gradation; vegetation luxuriates at their base, and dwindles in the approach to the regions of snow, till its feeblest manifestation is repressed by the cold. The so-called agony can never be more formidable than when the brain is the last to go, and the mind preserves to the end a rational cognizance of the state of the body. Yet persons thus situated commonly attest that there are few things in life less painful than its close.

"If I had strength enough to hold a pen," said William Hunter, "I would write how easy and delightful it is to die." "If this be dying," said the niece of Newton, of Olney, "it is a pleasant thing to die."

"The very expression," adds her uncle, "which another friend of mine made use of on her death-bed a few years ago." The same words have so often been uttered under similar circumstances that we could fill pages with instances which are only varied by the name of the speaker.

"If this be dying," said Lady Glenorchy, "it is the easiest thing imaginable."

"I thought that dying had been more difficult," said Louis XIV.

"I did not suppose it was so sweet to die," said Francis Saurez, the Spanish theologian.

An agreeable surprise was the prevailing sentiment with

them all. They expected the stream to terminate in the dash of the torrent, and they found it was losing itself in the gentlest current. The whole of the faculties seem sometimes concentrated on the placid enjoyment.

The day Arthur Murphy died he kept repeating from Pope:
"Taught half by reason, half by mere decay,
To welcome death and calmly peas away."

Nor does the calm partake of the sensitiveness of sickness. There was a swell in the sea the day Collingwood breathed his last upon the element which had been the scene of his glory. Captain Thomas expressed a fear that he was disturbed by the tossing of the ship.

"No, Thomas," he replied, "I am now in a state in which nothing in this world can disturb me more. I am dying, and I am sure it must be consolatory to you, and all who love me, to see how comfortably I am coming to my end.”

BODY OF A LOVER RECOGNIZED AFTER FORTY YEARS' BURIAL. The following incident, related in Frazier's Magazine, contrasts strangely the mutability of the living with the unchangeableness of the dead. It is a sad picture, but the radiance of undying love makes it beautiful even in its sadness:

A few years since certain miners who were working far under ground came upon the body of a poor fellow who had perished in the suffocating pit forty years before. Some chemical agent to which the body had been subjected-an agent prepared in the laboratory of nature--had effectually arrested the progress of decay. They brought it to the surface, and for a while, till it crumbled away through exposure to the atmosphere, it lay there the image of a fine, sturdy young man. No convulsion had passed over the face in death-the features were tranquil, the hair was black as jet. No one recognized the face; a generation had grown up since the day on which the miner went down for the last time.

But a tottering old woman, who had hurried from her cot on hearing the news, came up, and she knew again the face which through all these years she had never quite forgot. The poor miner was to have been her husband the day after that on which he died. They were rough people, of course, who were looking on-a liberal education and refined feelings are not deemed essential to the man whose work is to get up coal or even tin-but there were no dry eyes when the grayheaded pilgrim cast herself upon the youthful corpse and poured out to its deaf ear many words of endearment unused for forty years. It was a touching contrast-the one so old the other so young. They had both been young these long years ago, but time had gone on with the living and stood still with the dead.

WITHOUT SOCIAL ORGANIZATION.-What would be the condition of man without society and social organization is forcibly expressed in the following passage:

Without society there could be no union of labor; every man would have to do every thing for himself, and would consequently spend life in the lowest occupations; progress would be impossible. There could be no intellectual advancement from age to age without society, nothing inherited from the past, nothing given to the future, no additions made to knowledge and experience. Without society there could be no fraternizing commerce, no fine arts, no enlarged ideas of integrity and benevolence, no public opinion, no religion, no true humanity in man.

STUDY OF MIND.-One of the noblest yet most neglected of studies is that of mind. Said a distinguished writer:

Men carry their minds as for the most part they carry their watches, content to be ignorant of their constitution and internal action, and attentive only to the little external circle of things to which the passions, like indexes, are pointing.

Domestic

THE WAY THE ENGLISH BRING UP CHILDREN.-The English bring up their children very differently from the manner in which we bring up ours. They have an abundance of fresh, outdoor air every day whenever it is possible. The nursery maids are expected to take all the children out every day, even to the infant. This custom is becoming more prevalent in this country, and should be pursued wherever it is practicable. Infants should be early accustomed to the open air. We confine them too much, and heat them too much for a vigorous growth. One of the finest features of the London park is said to be the crowd of nursery maids with their groups of healthy children. It is so with the promenades of our large cities to a great extent, but it is less common in our country towns than it should be.

In consequence of their training, English girls acquire a habit of walking that accompanies them through life, and gives them a healthier middle life than our own women enjoy. They are not fatigued with a walk of five miles, and are not ashamed to wear when walking thick-soled shoes, fitted for the dampness they encounter. Half of the consumptive feebleness of our girls results from the thin shoes they wear and the cold feet they necessarily have. English children, especially girls, are kept in the nursery and excluded from fashionable society and all the frivolities of the season at an age when our girls are thinking of nothing but fashionable life.

SEA VOYAGES VS. CROWDED WATERING-PLACES.To every body, says the London Lancet, except some nervous and delicate females and a few males with very susceptible, untamable stomachs, a moderate sea-voyage is one of the finest tonics known. The rapid movement through the atmosphere, the change from latitude to latitude, the constant breathing of a pure, undefiled air, the complete relaxation of mind and muscle, the novelties of a sea life and of nautical maneuvering, soon begin to work wonders upon body and mind. The complexion becomes clear, the eye bright, muscular movement easy, quick, and vigorous, and the appetite keenly sharpened. nervous, worn-out, exhausted, irritable person finally becomes fat, lazy, and insouciant. For the victim of commerce, the votary of fashion, and the devotee of literature and science, we say there is nothing like a sea voyage to bring about that necessary and perfect "moulting process," as Schultz calls it, which eventuates in an almost rejuvenescence. Can a tithe of this be said of Saratoga or any of the fashionable places of resort in which our wealthy citizens crowd themselves and their families during the hot months of summer?

The

HOT-AIR BATHS.-Turkish baths, in which heated air is employed, are introduced, to a considerable extent, in England, and in several towns are largely frequented, the usual charge being twelve cents. Mr. Boulton, house-surgeon of the Newcastle infirmary,

Economy.

speaks in high terms of the hot-air bath recently erected in that institution at a cost of $300. It is of value in cases of rheumatism, acute and chronic, dropsy, skin diseases, catarrh, influenza, and ague. In regard to the last-mentioned disease he says: “I have several times witnessed the aversion of its paroxysms by placing the patient in the bath prior to the expected attack, quinine being given as an ordinary tonic for the remaining debility." The influence of the bath on persons in health is also interesting. After the very first impression of the high temperature is past, the sensation is rather agreeable. In ten or twelve minutes the perspiration stands in drops on the skin, and the pulse beats more quickly. After ten minutes more the pulse is almost doubled, and the perspiration pours down the skin copiously, and no doubt remains that the greatest luxury in the world is the cold douche. In winter or in summer, after twenty or twenty-five minutes' toleration of the temperature of 130 degrees or more, resistance being no longer possible, a rush is made for the shower bath, and its contents are brought down eagerly. The bather feels the cold intensely grateful, and leaves the heated apartment under its influence, carefully wrapped in a blanket. His pulse rapidly falls to its wonted rate, and he feels himself a very fresh, clean, hungry, and independent man."

THE BEST FUEL.-Wood is the healthiest, because it contains a large amount of oxygen; coal has none; hence in burning it the oxygen necessary for its combustion must be supplied from the air of the room, leaving it "closely " oppressive. A coal fire will go out unless it has a constant and large supply of air, while wood, with comparatively little, having a large supply within itself, turns to "live coals." Closegrained, heavy wood, like hickory and oak, gives out the most heat, while pine and poplar, being open grained, heat up the quickest. The value of fuel, as a heating material, is determined by the amount of water which a pound will raise to a given temperature; thus one pound of wood will convert forty pounds of ice to boiling water, while a pound of coal will thus heat nearly eighty pounds of ice-cold water; hence, pound for pound, coal is as good again for mere heating purposes as wood is as good again as peat, which is the product of sedges, weeds, rushes, mosses, etc. But if a tun of coal, that is, twentyeight bushels, or twenty-two hundred and forty pounds, cost five dollars, it is about equal to the best wood at two dollars and a quarter a cord. Coal at twelve dollars and a half a tun is as cheap as wood at five dollars and one-half per cord. It would be more equitable if wood was dry to sell it by the pound. Such is the custom in France. For heating sleeping apartments wood should be used.

HINTS FOR COLD WEATHER.-Do not begin to get the rooms too warm just at once. Accustom your

selves and the children to a moderate temperature, but provide against absolute cold or dampness. Never think it too much trouble to build a fire where one is needed. By observing this rule many constitutions will be saved as well as many doctor's bills. A tight, well-protected house is the best thing to save fuel, but even the saving thus made is no gain really, unless you have the discretion to ventilate your rooms thoroughly as often as the air becomes too dry or offensive in quality. A draft is a bad thing, but no fresh air is worse.

As much of our comfort and health depend upon the table, and the manner in which it is supplied, it is well to study to make up by cunning skill in preparation of food for the greater variety of summer. Winter fare is quite different in its character, as it should be, and we may venture to eat more rich and substantial dishes in cold than in hot weather. The delicate and cooling custards, creams, jellies, etc., lose their relish in the season of frost and snow, and puddings, pies, fried cakes, and pickles are in favor; nor do we esteem these things injurious when properly made and rationally eaten. "Good diet makes good blood, and good blood makes good brain," says somebody, and we agree-but always in moderation.

SUPERIOR TOMATO CATSUP.-Take a half bushel of ripe tomatoes, slice, and mix with them two table spoonfuls of salt. Put them in a brass or copper kettle, and stew them over a fire four or five hours. When cool, strain them through a tin colander to separate the skins and seed from the pulp and juice, to which latter add a pint of sliced onions, and stew them three or four hours longer; then turn the liquid into an earthern or stone jar, and while hot add three table spoonfuls of black pepper, one of cayenne, two of mustard, and one of cloves, each ground. After it becomes cool add half a gallon of strong cider or wine vinegar, and it is then fit for use. То preserve this catsup pure and fine, bottle it up, and keep it in a cool place. If the bottles are packed in a box of dry ashes they will keep better on account of the exclusion of the light and the uniformity of temperature.

IRON FOR PEACH-TREES.-The scales of iron that accumulate around the anvil of a blacksmith's shop are more valuable than manure for peach-trees. A shovelful put round a healthy peach-tree will be very likely to keep it in good condition; and it is said that trees already diseased have recovered by the application of these scales. Iron in any form will answer a good purpose.

TO PREVENT MOTHS IN CARPETS.-Rub or strew around the edge of the carpets and on them salt and pepper and they will not eat them.

COCOA-NUT CAKE.-One pound sugar, one-half a pound butter, three-quarters of a pound flour, five eggs, one-half a teaspoonful soda, one grated cocoa

nut.

FLOATING ISLAND.-A nice dish for tea may be made in the following way: Beat the whites of two eggs to a stiff foam, which pour upon a quart of milk previously set to boil; when the milk boils the foam is done, and you may take it off. Beat the

yolks of five and whites of three eggs together, with sugar and salt to taste, and stir into the boiling milk; let it boil and place in your sauce-dish, with the foam floating on the top. You may season with lemon or vanilla.

NICE AND NAMELESS CAKE.-Two cupfuls of sugar, a small lump of butter, half a pint of milk, four eggs, one cocoa-nut grated, a teaspoonful of soda, and two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar.

BREAD CAKE.-Five teacups of well-raised breaddough, three heaping cups of sugar, two even cups of butter, five eggs, a glass of syrup, and a nutmeg; fruit as you like.

TO ROAST BEEF.-Rib roast is that part where the ribs commence, on the fore-quarter to the back of the ox. The first two or three ribs is called the first cut, the next two or three the second cut; these two cuts are the best to roast. Cut off all the bones, and saw the ribs in two places, carefully peal or cut off all soiled or dirty places, if any, then wipe it all over with a clean cloth wrung out of cold water. Then rub it all over with fine salt; put it in the pan to roast with not too strong a fire to burn it. In half an hour take it out and drain the gravy into a bowl; baste it over with the fat and dust on flower all over the meat; this must be done every half hour till the meat is roasted, which will keep the gravy from being burnt. Take up the meat, skim off some of the fat from the top of the bowl and pour it into the pan, dust in some flour, let it boil, and stir it till it thickens. N. B. A roast of ten pounds will take about two and a half to three hours to cook. If you roast before a fireplace you can let the gravy remain in the pan.

A sirloin of beef, or a loin of veal, can be roasted in the same way. In the sirloin of beef the suet must not be roasted, or it will spoil the gravy.

TO ENTIRELY CLEAR OUT THE RED ANT.-Wash your shelves down clean, and while damp rub fine salt on them quite thick, and let it remain on for a time and they will disappear.

YEAST FOR BREAD OR CAKES.-In a quart of boiling water stir sufficient wheat flour to make quite a thick batter; while hot, stir in it four ounces of white sugar and a teaspoonful of salt. When cool put in sufficient yeast-say near a teaspoonful to cause the mass to ferment. Lay it by in a covered jar for use. Half a teacupful is enough to make two large loaves. To renew the yeast when used up reserve a teacupful. It is simple and efficient for raising buckwheat cakes and bread-very white and very light if the flour is good.

SWEET APPLE PUDDING.-Pare and cut in thick slices, or quarter and core, sweet apples sufficient to fill the dish you wish to bake the pudding in. Put them in a kettle and add new milk sufficient to scarcely cover them, heat it boiling hot, and stir in Indian meal enough to make it a stiff batter. Salt, sweeten, and spice, to suit the taste. Butter your dish, put in the pudding, spread a little cream over the top to keep it from scorching. Bake three hours or more, according to size. Serve with cream or butter.

of dollars. The average loss by wear and tear of coin is estimated to be a tenth of one per cent. per annum, and the loss, by consumption in the arts, and by fire and shipwreck, at from two to seven millions per annum. The amount of the precious metals now in existence is estimated to be ten thousand millions of dollars, of which six thousand millions is estimated to be in silver and the remainder in gold.

TYRIAN PURPLE.-M. Bigio, of Venice, states that after protracted researches he has succeeded in discovering the long-forgotten purple dye which was formerly so famous in the east. Pliny distinguishes two tints, one violet and the other red. The former is derived from the Murex Trunculus, which at present is very rarely found in the Adriatic; the latter, which is the true Tyrian purple, is furnished by the Murex Brandonis. An important fact is noted by this venerable naturalist, namely, that the coloring material derived from the murex is purple when first secreted, while the inferior kind yielded by some other species is originally colorless, and only assumes its purple hue on exposure to the air.

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTE.-The total amount of the original bequest to the Smithsonian Institute was $515,169, and interest on the same to July 1, 1846; devoted to the erection of the building, $242,129. In addition to this, $135,600 of unexpended income has been vested in state bonds, so that the present income of the institution is $38,325.14. The principal expenditures are, for salaries, about $9,000; for publications of all kinds, $9,000; for meteorological observations, $2,500; for lectures, $1,000; for the library, $3,500; for museum, $2,000. There are some incidental matters involving expenditures, and about $5,000 is set apart from the income to make a certain financial change for the sake of economy. The collections of various kinds which had accumulated at Washington have now been concentrated at the institution, Congress agreeing to make an appropriation of $4,000 annually to keep them up. They are such as the collection of the Exploring Expeditions, under Captain Wilkes, in South America and the South Seas, that of Lieutenant Herndon's exploration of the Amazon, Captain Stansbury's explora

dressed in elegant native binding, among which are Shah Namahs, Korans, and poems in elegant variety, monuments of native skill and industry. In this library is the famous Koran, written on veltum, in the ancient Cufic character, by the Caliph Othman III, about 35 of the Hegira (A. D. 655,) bearing numerous autographs and seals of Oriental monarchs. There is also a portion of the Koran written by Huzut Ali, son-in-law of Mohammed, with the seal of Timour and other kings of Persia, and a memorandum written by Shah Jehan, referring to his having given 1,500 golden mohurs for it. Among the early records of the East India Company are two volumes preserved in the library containing the autographs of subscribers under an act "for raising £2,000,000 upon a fund for payment of annuities, and for settling the trade to the East Indies," dated July 14, 1698, in the tenth year of the reign of William III. The first entry is by the commissioners of the treasury as subscribers of £10,000 in the name of his Majesty. The subscribers, 1,344 in number, include most of the English nobility as well as foreigners. The signatures are written on forty-seven pages of parchment. The amounts subscribed range from £100 upward, the highest (No. 1,055) being that of John Dubois for £315,000. The printed library contains the largest and most unique collection of works on all subjects relating to India, China, and the Archipelago, and as a whole may be regarded as one of the most valuable as well as useful libraries in Europe.

NAZARITE ORGANIZATION.-The Methodist Church is likely to be delivered from this pestilent faction. At a delegated convention held in Pekin, New York, they adopted a discipline, and organized themselves under the style of "The Free Methodist Church." In the new organization their officers are nearly the same as in the Methodist Episcopal Church, but the names of these offices are many of them changed. For instance, for Bishop they substitute "General Superintendent," for presiding elder they are to have local superintendent, etc. The Rev. B. T. Roberts, who has figured largely in the movement, was elected "General Superintendent."

JOHN ANGELL JAMES.-The life and letters, includ

minister and writer will soon be published in London. It is edited by Rev. R. W. Dale, the successor of Mr. James.

FANNY FORRESTER.-A biography of this sweet poet, devoted wife and missionary, is in course of preparation by Rev. Dr. A. C. Kendrick.

THE INDIA-HOUSE LIBRARY.-The India-House library contains upward of 24,000 volumes of every class of eastern literature, of which 8,000 are manuscript; this latter portion is famous throughout the world of literature as containing the choicest collection of Sanscrit and Persian MSS. extant; some of beautiful calligraphy, superbly illuminated, and

THE SISTER OF KOSSUTH.-The monument erected in Greenwood Cemetery to the memory of the sister of Kossuth is an obelisk of Italian marble, thirteen feet high, and upon it is the following inscription: "EMILIA KOSSUTH ZULAVSKY, born in Hungary, Nov. 12, 1817; died in Brooklyn, N. Y., June 29, 1860. Erected by her fellow-exiles, who admired her in life and now mourn her in death.

'Ye who return when Hungary is free,

O, take my dust along-my heart is there."" Kossuth is now in Sardinia, where his two sons are being educated.