A full account of cultivating, gathering, and strip the leaves from the bushes. The and manufacturing tea was given in our last leaves then either roll down the rocks, of volume. In places which are very difficult themselves, or the wind blows them down, of access, it is said that the following plan and the owners then gather them. The of coming at the leaves has sometimes been monkeys are not fond of the tea berries, and resorted to. they can only be induced to perform this Monkeys are trained to climb the heights service by long teaching, and by rewarding them. They climb the rocks by means of cords, and when they have finished their work and come down again, their owners give them something which they are very fond of, to eat. This is one way, if the account is correct, in which mankind turn the instinct and industry of the other animals to their own advantage. THE YOUNG CHEMIST. Caloric -Experiments No. VII. Various ways of producing heat. I have more to say on the interesting subject of evaporation; but I wish at present to talk a little about HEAT. Heat, and the cause of heat, are far from being the same thing, as some of us may be sometimes led to suppose. The cause of heat-I mean that which makes or produces heat, exists every where. In the coldest day that ever happened in the coldes. part of the world, you might produce fire by rubbing two sticks together long enough and swiftly enough; or by striking together, with considerable force, a piece of flint and a piece of steel. But though the cause of heat must have been there, before the fire was produced, we can hardly say there was any heat either in the flint, or the steel, or the cold atmosphere. To this cause of heat, which exists every where in the world, but which has neither form, nor color, nor weight, nor smell, nor taste, and which nobody understands, but every body believes in, we give the name of Caloric. It is a very curious thing (substance we cannot say, for we do not know that it is a substance, any more than light) at any rate. If we put a quantity of ice in a pan, and melt the ice by applying heat, it will be found that 202 the melted ice, or water, is no hotter than the hard ice was; although a great deal of heat must have gone into the ice to thaw it. Well, suppose you continue to heat the water which the ice made. If your fire is a good one, in less than an hour the water will boil. It is now, of course, a great deal hotter than it was when the ice first melted. But let us keep it boiling. Vapor now ascends from its surface, and keeps ascending, as long as the water continues to boil. In six hours the water is all gone; it is turned into vapor, and diffused in the air. But was the water in the kettle any hotter after it had boiled one, two, or three hours than it was at the moment when the boiling commenced? Not a whit. It was all the same. Was the steam or vapor any hotter than the water? Not at all. All the very same. What becomes of so much heat? There must a great deal of it go into the water, or rather into the vapor, in the progress of six hours.-As we have already told you before, caloric is a very curious thing. About the why of its hiding itself, in this way, we will talk more elsewhere. I wish just now to go upon another part of my subject. I wish to say something about the different ways there are of producing heat. One way in which heat is produced in this world is by means of the rays of the sun. Whether the sun actually sends out heat, or whether its light, by its action on things, somehow or other forms it, is a matter not so well settled. But were it not for the influence of the sun's rays, operating to produce heat somehow or other, every thing in the earth would soon become congealed to a frozen mass of solid matter. Even, now, in the short days of winter, when the sun's rays strike upon our north 203 GILES INDIFFERENCE. 96 of fresh burnt limestone, and pour upon it some water, so great a heat will be generated as to change part of the water into steam. At the same time the rest of the water is absorbed or taken up by the lime, and becomes a solid substance. ern part of the world in a slanting direction, your hand on it. Again; if you take a piece most substances, become frozen, especially during the night, unless great pains is taken to prevent it; and even men and animals if they do not take care of themselves sometimes freeze to death. I have already adverted to the curious fact that if you rub two sticks together smartly, they will become hot; and if the rubbing is continued long enough they will at last burst into flame. Many savage people kindle their fires in this way. Instances have been known where things have taken fire in this way, by accident. The wheels of carriages have sometimes been set on fire by the rubbing together (friction.) A building, in drawing or moving it, sometimes sets the dry timbers upon which it slides, on fire. Even the dry branches of the forest have, in a few instances, been rubbed together by the wind, till fire was produced. It is said that you may even produce so much heat by rubbing two pieces of ice together, as partly to melt them. Most boys have had one illustration of the power of friction to generate heat. In sliding down a stair way, a pole, or a rope, the hands will sometimes become so heated that they are almost compelled to let go, and fall, and some have fallen and been injured.-Violently beating a hard substance has the same effect to make heat as friction; for if a piece of soft iron be smartly hammered, it may be made almost-some say quite-red hot. The next way of producing heat is by mixing things together in such a way that what we call a chemical change is produced. If you take half a glass full of oil of vitriol, and pour on it the same quantity of water, and mix them suddenly, the outside of the glass will become so hot that you cannot bear Another way in which heat is produced in great abundance, is by combustion, or the act of burning, as in a common fire of coals or wood, or a lamp or candle. This, too, is a chemical combination, or mixture of oxygen (one of the airs of the atmosphere) and an inflammable substance, as wood, oil, or grease. Without a constant supply of this air, no lamp or fire would burn; and in a large fire in a grate, a rushing current of air may be perceived continually going to feed the flame. It is by a knowledge of this circumstance that grates are constructed with a contracted passage to increase this current, and that a long and narrow glass is placed over the flame of a lamp, preventing the air from getting to the flame on all sides, except from below, where it rushes up in a strong current, and heightens in this way the intensity and brilliancy of the flame. ་་ GILES INDIFFERENCE. I know Giles: well I have known him well a long time; better than I wish I had. He is a most unhappy.boy, and is likely to make a most unhappy man. "But what is the matter with him?" you will say. "Is he disobedient to his parents?" He has no parents. "What, then? Is he profane? Does he tell falsehoods? Surely he does not steal, or defraud." No, no; none of these. He does nothing amiss. The only difficulty is, that he does nothing at all. I will tell you how it is with Giles. He lives in the family of a worthy gentleman, who is a sort of guardian to him, and attends school. Deceased friends have left him a little property, the income of which, yearly, is enough to support him at school, handsomely; and probably a little more. This he has, some how or other, happened to find out. And what will be at best, but a small sum to receive when he is twenty-one, and will hardly suffice to support him without labor, he has magnified into a fortune. ever. He gets his lessons well at school,—or at least I never heard any fault found with him. They cost him but little labor, howBut though he is twelve or fourteen years of age, and old enough to render the family where he resides, considerable service, yet he does nothing, however trifling, but attend school;-not even to put a stick of wood, or a little coal on the fire; and if asked to go of an errand, he seems to think it rather ill usage. If he was sitting at table, and politeness required that he should help the company to a certain dish, it is quite doubtful whether he would put himself out of the way; and if he should, he would be very likely to do it in a hasty and irritable manner. 66 If all the company, except himself, should be ladies, and there was something to be done-say a little fuel to be brought,-do you think he would bring it? "Certainly; you will say, or else ring for a servant to do it." But you are mistaken. He would do neither. An old lady, eighty years of age, and very decrepit, might even get up and go halting to the cellar, and bring some coal, before he would lift a finger towards doing any thing, unless commanded. "Do any thing? Why need I do any thing?" he probably thinks to himself. " 204 I have property enough to support me. have no notion of making a slave of myself for the sake of pleasing these people. To be sure I would do it just for once, to keep along with them; but if I wait on them once, they will expect me to do so again,— and again. Give them an inch, and they will take an ell. No, no; I don't wait on them, I'll warrant. They may help themselves, or go without help. I care very little which." Now it happens that Giles is injuring nobody by his conduct, so much as himself. If he grows up to manhood with this disposition, and these feelings-and there is great reason to fear he will-he is certainly ruined. I would not give a straw, even for his property, after he has had it ten years. Grant it may amount to $10,000, it wo'n't last him till he is thirty. And then what will he do? He has never learned to help himself. Will he begin to learn this important lesson so late in life?-No; never. must go unlearned. It But suppose he could pass through life without labor. Suppose he could sit at ease in an arm chair, or perhaps ride out occa sionally in his coach, and not make a single effort of body or mind. What is such a life good for? That of a calf is easier, only it may be a little shorter. You need not tell me that the end of a domestic animal is more dreadful. No such thing. The ox or the calf, whose life is taken in a moment of time, dies an easy death compared with him who is a score of years in dying with gout, or dyspepsy, or dropsy. When nations can subdue their enemies by kind treatment, the instruments of war may be destroyed. THE BUSY SUMMER.-VISIT TO ROME. 205 THE BUSY SUMMER. Loud is the Summer's busy song, The smallest breeze can find a tongue, While insects of each tiny size Grow teasing with their melodies, Till noon-day with its blistering breath Fervades, and day dies still as death. - The busy noise of man and brute Is on a sudden lost and mute; Even the brook that leaps along Seems weary of its bubbling song, And, so soft its waters creep, Tired silence sinks in sounder sleep. The cricket on its banks is dumb, And, save the waggon rocking round, And spiders' threads, are standing still; Hawkweed and groundsel's fanning downs Unruffled keep their seedy crowns; And, in the oven-heated air, Not one light thing is floating there, Save that to the earnest eye The restless heat seems twittering by Noon swoons beneath the heat it made, And flowers e'n wither in the shade, Until the sun slopes in the west, Like weary traveller, glad to rest, On pillowed clouds of many hues ; Then nature's voice its joy renews, And checkered field and grassy plain Hum, with their summer songs again, A requiem to the day's decline, Whose setting sunbeams coolly shine, As welcome to day's feeble powers As falling dews to thirsty flowers. VISIT TO ROME. No. VII. 97 The famous statue of Apollo-The Laocoon-Temple of Julius Cæsar-Reflections. In returning, we paused a moment in the court; and by a murmuring fountain, just there, a door was suddenly thrown open, and I beheld standing in solitary majesty, the APOLLO. The hands and one arm have been most clumsily restored by some bungling sculptor. One foot and ankle were originally fractured, and have been very badly repaired, so that every thing possible has been done to spoil it, but in vain. It is the finest statue in the world. The Venus de Medicis is beautiful, but how far removed from the perfection of the Apollo! How often while I gazed upon it in silent admiration, did it seem to be instinct with spirit and life! How often did it seem as if it were almost the habitation of a deity! And is it the creation of man? Was a being so superior, fashioned by his hand? You will think me extravagant; but I am not the first person who has gone mad about Apollo. Another and a far more unfortunate damsel, a native of France, it is related, at the sight of this matchless stature, lost at once her heart and her reason. Day after day, and hour after hour, the fair enthusiast gazed, and wept, and sighed her soul away; till she became like the marble itself, pale and cold.- -But I have no intention of dying. The name of the author of this great work is unknown; but it is certainly one of the finest among the works of art. The blood curdles at the dreadful tragedy which this group of statues is designed to represent. We behold, or fancy we behold a father, in the last bitterest moment of high |