There is still a gentle ripple on the water. In the shade of those tall poplars, down by the piles driven into the bed of the river to guard the buttresses of the old bridge, and upon that gravelly bottom, lies a shoal of perch. They are now altogether at the edge of the sharp current which sweeps that margin, formed by tall weeds. See how they rise and descend in quest of food brought down by the rapid stream, like so many striped tigers of the deep.

What a noble fellow have we just brought to land ;he weighs upwards of one pound avoirdupois-one of the finest taken in these waters. Mark his colours; how exceedingly brilliant and beautiful! Talk of the denizens of Chinese waters !-why, the plump and wellfed perch lying at our feet, in vivid colouring is not inferior. Observe his back of rich olive green, shading into golden yellow; his body banded with bars of a deeper tint; his fins rivalling the brightest vermilion. But there are many other things which invite the attention of the angler: at this serene hour the more minute portions of the insect world are on the wing.

"Thick in yon stream of light, a thousand ways,
Upward and downward, thwarting and convolv'd,
The quivering nations sport."

Watch the myriads of delicate and fragile creatures; they have just undergone their transformations, to sport away an existence which terminates when the sun withdraws his beams and the dews begin to rise. What a hum from countless tiny voices, blending in one loud chorus, as, dancing their gay rounds, they rise and fall in the sunbeams, like "showers of brilliant gems." Listen to that sound from the tall grass in yonder meadow. It proceeds from the "corn-crake," in his favourite retreats along the river's course. 'Cra-a-ke!" -why, it now seems almost at our feet; "Cra-a-ke !"it now appears far distant. How wonderfully the creature modulates the tones of his voice; he outrivals the ventriloquist, who, after all, must study nature as his best instructor.

But heard you that dull and jarring sound from the water's edge in that low-lying meadow? It is the solacing note of the mole-cricket. The sun is now sinking fast, the dews are just beginning to rise, and the mole-cricket has already left the winding passages which lead to his curious habitation in yonder bank.

This remarkable little creature has been nick-named "Jack-a'-lantern." Superstition has rendered him a terror to many a rustic, and numerous are the anecdotes related of the wicked exploits of "Jack-a'-lantern," in the bogs and fens of Lincolnshire. He is there reputed to have been a most wayward wight, his mischievous pranks having exceeded those even of a whole troop of Irish fairies. Fear has magnified him into a monster -the fiery demon of the fenny waste. By the cotter's chimney-nook it used to be related of him, that, when the benighted traveller had lost his road in the surrounding gloom, "Jack-a'-lantern" would rise from the stagnant waters, and render himself visible for miles around. Woe to the poor traveller! the fiery demon would flit from point to point, and then remain stationary as if to serve the office of a friendly beacon. In quest of shelter and safety for the night, the solitary and way-worn traveller would endeavour to reach the spot, and eventually lose his life in the deep waters with which the fens of Lincolnshire were intersected, ere modern art interposed to bring these wild tracts of country under cultivation.

The simple inhabitants of the outskirts of the fens in the times of which we write never dreamt of phosphorescent exhalations. They never troubled their heads about chemical disquisitions; the spirit of philosophy had never ventured into their humble abodes, or made herself welcome at their blazing hearths-sufficient for them that they saw the red demon of the putrid waters, and looked with awe upon his vagaries. The horse-shoe cast by the steed of the jaded traveller,

and found upon some wild and beaten track-this nailed upon the door possessed a charm potent enough to protect them from all evil. In this belief they were happy, and felt secure from all harm; their more enlightened neighbours had no desire to uproot their customs, or to throw doubt upon their traditions, any more than have poets any desire to throw doubt upon the story of Blondel the harper, and the lion-hearted king pining in captivity on his road from Palestine. But the sun has now sunk below the horizon; the evening star has appeared, like a large liquid pearl. We must away, for long since has

"The curfew tolled the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd wound slowly o'er the lea."

Oh! it is at this hour alone that we share the inspiration of the poet-the hour for contemplation, when, solitary and alone, we can only feel the full truthfulness of the sweet poet's lines

"The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me." How peaceful and how calm the scene. No longer do we hear the dripping and splashing of the waters from the overshot mill,-the various songsters have gone to their sylvan retreats,-all but "the wakeful nightingale," and the honest watch-dog, whose hoarse bayings are heard far down the vale, where

-Drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds."

But our honest friend, Farmer Mayfield, is awaiting our return, with pressing invitations to another day's sport.

The world was all before us, with its joys, and its cares, and its troubles, and its disappointments. We were like a newly launched bark, prepared to commit our fortunes upon the waste of waters.

The promise is made to revisit the hospitable scene— Ah! when will it be fulfilled?

THE PHILOSOPHY OF HEARING.

I. THE PRODUCTION OF SONOROUS VIBRATIONS.

WHAT is a sound? Is it a substance having a material existence; or a state of motion into which a body is thrown; or a mental phenomenon, existing only within ourselves? It may appear strange to some that such a question should be asked; but we believe that a little close attention will show how vague and indefinite are the general notions on this point. We see a musician beating a drum, and we say we hear the sound of that drum; but the link by which the action and the perception are connected is generally lost sight of. Let us put the question, whether the sound be in the drum, or in the ear, or in the mind; and the variety of answers likely to be given to that question will test the accuracy of the common notions on this subject. It may not, therefore, be uninteresting to enter into a few explanations respecting the phenomena of hearing.

First, then, for the production of sound. It has been satisfactorily proved by numerous and varied experiments, that all bodies which produce sound are, at that moment, in a vibratory state; and that sound cannot be produced except by such vibrations. Now vibrations cannot be produced without the existence of elasticity in a body, and we thus arrive at elasticity as one of the causes of sound. Let us take the instances of a drum, a triangle, a harp, and a flute, and see how these vibrations are excited. In the drum we see a hollow cylinder with a piece of parchment stretched over the open end; and the tension of the parchment is so great, that any attempt to bend or press it is instantly followed by a powerful reaction.

When a blow is struck on the stretched drum-head with the stick, the parchment is momentarily bent into a concave form; and the tension by which it is instantly urged to its former position is so great, that the parchment is carried beyond its original position, and becomes convex on the upper surface. This again is an unnatural state, and the parchment recedes, and becomes a second time concave. Without any repetition of the blow, the parchment will make these oscillating vibrations several hundred or perhaps thousand times, before it assumes a state of rest.

In the case of the harp-string, we have a stretched cord, whose tension is such as to make it almost rigorously straight; and any attempt to draw the string out of the straight line is followed by an immediate recoil. But as in the instance of the drum-parchment, or of a pendulum, the string does not come to a stand when it has reached its original position; the impulse which it has acquired for the recoil carries it to nearly as great a distance on the other side of the original position, and the subsequent vibrations are nothing more than efforts on the part of the string to regain its original state.

In the case of a wind instrument, such as a flute, we have a tube filled with air in a quiescent state; but, by applying the mouth at some aperture at or near the end of the tube, and blowing forcibly into it, we disturb the repose of the air in the flute. There is, however, such a tendency to reaction and compensation, in this as in most other natural phenomena, that the disturbed air seeks to regain its original state, and in so doing, generates those oscillatory movements before alluded to. One blast at the mouth of the instrument is sufficient to engender many thousands of these oscillatory movements before the air in the tube regains its quiescent

state.

In the case of a triangle, we have a modified variety of the drum-head vibrations. A piece of steel, possess ing considerable elasticity, is bent into a triangular form; and when one side of this triangle is struck, it is turned momentarily out of its straight form, and slightly, though imperceptibly, curved. The recoil, by which the metal is urged to resume its original state, gives to it a momentum productive of a rapid series of oscillatory movements.

Now, if we consider all the varieties of sound-producing bodies, we shall find that they are susceptible of vibrations in one or other of the ways above enumerated. The violin, the viola, the violoncello, the double-bass, the guitar, the monochord, or "hurdy-gurdy," the lute, the pianoforte, however differently they may be played, all yield sounds by virtue of the oscillations to which they are subjected when struck or disturbed; and the same may be said of the humming or buzzing noise produced by the bow in the process of "bowing," in the cotton and the hat manufactures. The horn, the trumpet, the clarionet, the flageolet, the organ, the syrinx, or mouth organ, the barrel of a key, and-most important of all -the human voice, yield sounds principally from the vibration of a column of air, as in the flute: it is true that in some of these instruments there is a small reed or metallic spring, the vibration of which assists in producing the effects; and that in the voice there is other mechanism of a complicated kind; but in all of them the vibration of a column of air is the chief cause of sound. The cymbal, the tambourine, the Chinese gong, yield their sounds in the same manner as the drum; and it is in the same class that we may place all the innumerable sounds resulting from hammering, filing, sawing, and analogous operations in common life; for every tooth of a saw or a file inflicts a distinct blow on the substance on which it is employed, and by that blow sets the substance more or less in a vibratory state. Lastly, every sound resulting from the vibration of a rigid rod or bar may be classed with that of the triangle. When a boy draws his hoop-stick across a range of iron railings; when he plays on the jew's-harp; when he places the head of a pin between his teeth, and

strikes sideways on the point; or when the springs of a musical snuff-box are set in action by the pins on the barrel; the various resulting sounds are all produced on the same principle as those of the triangle; the difference being that in some cases the rod is fixed at one end and free to vibrate at the other; while in other instances the two ends are fixed, but the middle is free to vibrate.

Sound, then, results from the vibrations of the sonorous body, produced by various disturbing causes; and the next enquiry is, how do we become cognizant of these effects? If a drum be vibrating at a hundred yards distance from us, by what evidence do we know that such is the case? The atmosphere is in most cases the connecting medium, and conveys to us intelligence of the disturbance which the stretched parchment is undergoing. It is a common experiment in lecture rooms, to exhaust the air from a glass receiver, by means of an air-pump, and then to ring a little bell in the vacuum thus produced; the effect is such, that though the clapper of the bell is seen to be in violent motion, the sound produced is so feeble as to be utterly inaudible except when the ear is close to the vessel. The vibrations, in this instance, are produced as fully and effectually as if the vessel were full of air; but the ear scarcely receives the effect of those vibrations, because of the vacuum in the glass.

The manner in which the air is affected may perhaps conveniently be explained by referring, as before, to the action of a drum. Under all the ordinary circumstances of common life, the objects around us are enveloped in the atmosphere, or to a greater or less degree exposed to its action. When the head of a drum is struck, and we reason on the resulting vibration, we must not forget that the air is in contact with it. The parchment assumes a concave form, and the layer of particles of air adjacent thereto follows it in its movement; the second layer (if such a term may be employed) follows the movement of the first; the third of the second; and so on until the original disturbance is propagated to a considerable distance. The rapidity with which this propagation takes place is astonishing, and might appear almost incredible to a person new to the subject. Any disturbance of this kind, to which the air in contact with a vibrating body is exposed, is propagated to a distance of more than eleven hundred feet in one second of time; so that if a drum-head be struck, and thereby set into vibration, the air at a distance of eleven hundred feet from it will be agitated in the following second. If cannon were fired in St. James's Park, the atmosphere at Hampstead would be set into a vibratory state in about a quarter of a minute afterwards; that is, the particles of air immediately surrounding the cannon are disturbed by the explosion, and this disturbance spreads from particle to particle with such rapidity that in about a quarter of a minute it would reach Hampstead, or any place equally distant.

But the particles of air do not continue to move onwards; they oscillate to and fro. When the parchment of the drum recoils, the particles of air in contact with it recoil likewise; and this recoil is communicated from particle to particle as fast as the original disturbance had been, but of course somewhat later in point of time. So likewise in the subsequent vibrations of the parchment: the layer of particles of air adjacent to the parchment follows the movements to which the latter is subjected, and vibrates to and fro with great rapidity; the adjoining particles are in their turn affected in a similar manner; and thus layer after layer -or, if it tends to simplify the conception-particle after particle, is thrown into vibratory states.

The atmosphere is not the only conductor of sound; though for practical purposes it is incomparably the most important. Solids and liquids are also conductors, and in many cases more energetic than air. If we place the ear close to a piece of timber, and a person scratch the other end of the timber with a pin, the sound will

be distinctly conveyed through the wood. If we place the ear near a long brick wall, and the wall be struck at some distant part, two sounds will be heard, the first resulting from the conduction of the blow or disturb ance through the solid wall, and the other through the air; showing that the impulse travels more rapidly through the former than through the latter. A bell rung under water, though inaudible in the open air, may be heard by a person whose head is under the water at a considerable distance from it. The ticking of a clock, hanging on a wall in the upper room of a house, may be heard in a lower room by applying the ear close to the wall, when it could not be perceived in the middle of the room. These and many similar instances furnish proof that the vibrations to which the production of sound is attributed, may be conveyed through solid and liquid as well as aerial bodies.

When we state that the vibrations producing sound are propagated from particle to particle with a velocity of more than eleven hundred feet in a second, we allude to the atmosphere only, and not to other media. Experiments have been made, to ascertain the relative velocity of the conduction in different substances; and the results show that the velocity is in some cases greater and in others less than in common air. But into these extensions of the subject it is not necessary for us here to go. Suffice it to say, that the production of audible vibrations, or sound, results from a mechanical disturbance among the particles of an elastic body; and from the conduction of that disturbance, through the atmosphere, to the air immediately surrounding the ear. The consideration of various points connected with the perception of sound will occupy our attention in another paper.

Miscellaneous.

"I have here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties them."-Montaigne.

OUR BED-ROOMS.-Useful Hints.-Their small size and their lowness render them very insalubrious; and the case is rendered worse by close windows and thick curtains and hangings, with which the beds are often so carefully surrounded as to prevent the possibility of the air being renewed. The consequence is, that we are breathing vitiated air during the greater part of the night; that is, during more than a third part of our lives and thus the period of repose, which is necessary for the renova tion of our mental and bodily vigour, becomes a source of disease. Sleep, under such circumstances, is very often disturbed, and always much less refreshing than when enjoyed in a well-ventilated apartment; it often happens, indeed, that such repose, instead of being followed by renovated strength and activity, is succeeded by a degree of heaviness and languor which is not overcome till the person has been some time in a purer air. Nor is this the only evil arising from sleeping in illventilated apartments. When it is known that the blood undergoes most important changes in its circulation through the lungs, by means of the air which we breathe, and that these vital changes can only be ef fected by the respiration of pure air, it will be easily understood how the healthy functions of the lungs must be impeded by inhaling, for many successive hours, the vitiated air of our bed-rooms, and how the health must be as effectually destroyed by respiring impure air, as by living on unwholesome or innutritious food. In the case of children and young persons predisposed to consumption, it is of still more urgent consequence that they should breathe pure air by night as well as by day, by securing a continuous renewal of the air in their bedrooms, nurseries, schools, &c. Let a mother, who has

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been made anxious by the sickly looks of her children, go from pure air into their bed-room in the morning, before a door or window has been opened, and remark the state of the atmosphere, the close, oppressive, and often foetid odour of the room, and she may cease to wonder at the pale, sickly aspect of her children. Let her pay a similar visit, some time after means have been taken, by the chimney ventilator or otherways, to secure a full supply, and continual renewal, of the air in the bed-rooms during the night, and she will be able to account for the more healthy appearance of her children, which is sure to be the consequence of supplying them with pure air to breathe.-Sir James Clark, "On the Sanative Influence of Climate."

WEATHERCOCKS.

Ir can scarcely be doubted that means for indicating the winds were invented at a very early period. I must, however, confess that I have scarcely observed any trace of them among the Greeks and the Romans. In Europe the custom of placing vanes on the summits of the church steeples is very old; and as these vanes were made in the figure of a cock, they have thence been denominated weathercocks. In the Latin of the middle ages we meet with the words gallus and ventilogium. The latter is used by Randulphus, who wrote about the year 1270. Mention of weathercocks occurs in the ninth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries. There is no doubt that the cock was intended as an emblem of clerical vigilance. The English are mistaken when they suppose that the figure of a cock was first made choice of for vanes in the fourteenth century, under the reign of Edward III., in order to ridicule the French, with whom they were then at war.-Becman's History of Inventions.

"MANY a marriage has commenced, like the morning, red, and perished like a mushroom. Wherefore! Because the married pair neglected to be as agreeable to each other after their union as they were before it. Seek always to please each other, my children, but in doing so keep heaven in mind. Lavish not your love to-day, remembering that marriage has a morrow and again a morrow. Bethink ye, my daughters, what the word house-wife* expresses. The married woman is her husband's domestic trust. On her he ought to be able to place his reliance in house and family; to her he should confide the key of his heart and the lock of his storeroom. His honour and his home are under her protection, his welfare in her hands. Ponder this! And you, my sons, be true men of honour, and good fathers of your families. Act in such wise that your wives respect and love you. And what more shall I say to you, my children? Peruse diligently the word of God; that will guide you out of storm and dead calm, and bring you safe into port. And as for the rest-do your best!-Frederica Bremer.

In Swedish the word is Hustru (i. e. House-troth) which, in its primary sense, signifies house faith-she in whom domestic faith centres.

No. 77.]

FRANK FAIRLEGH;

OR, OLD COMPANIONS IN NEW SCENES.

By F. E. S.

CHAP. XV.

THE CATASTROPHE.

I DID not return to the cottage till just the usual hour for going to bed, as I did not dare subject myself to Fanny's penetrating glance, in my present state of excitement. The moment family prayers were concluded, I took my candle, and, pleading fatigue, retired to my room. Knowing that sleep was out of the question in my then frame of mind, I merely substituted the clothes I intended to wear in the morning for those I had on, and, wrapping my dressing-gown round me, flung myself on the bed. Here I lay, tossing about, and unable to compose myself, for an hour or

VOL. III.

two, the one idea constantly recurring to me, if Coleman should fail!"

"What

At length, feverish and excited, I sprang up, and throwing open the window, which was near the ground, enjoyed the fresh breeze, which played around my heated temples. It was a lovely night; the stars, those calm eyes of Heaven, gazed down in their bright effulgence on this world of sin and sorrow, seeming to reproach the stormy passions and restless strife of men, by contrast with their own impassive grandeur. After remaining motionless for several minutes, I was about to close the window, when the sound of a footstep on the turf beneath caught my ear, and a form, which I recognised in the moonlight as that of Archer, approached.

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"Up and dressed, Fairlegh?" he commenced, in a low tone, as he perceived me; "may I come in?" In silence I held out my hand to him, and assisted him to enter.