CURIOUS MEMORIAL.-In the old parish church of a small village not far from Swindon, North Wilts, is a tablet with the following inscription:-"To the memory of JOHN HARDING's will, who died Sept. 20th, 1721. He gave by his will to the poor of this parish that have no collection out of the parish the sum of ten shillings a year, to be payd yearly at that time of the year he died, out of his ground called Pills, now in the possession of his widow, who duly pays the same, and after her death to be payd by the next taker of the ground, and so on to the

world's end."

TRAVELS OF A PRINTER'S HAND.-A good printer will set 6000 ems a day, or about 12,000 letters. The distance travelled over by his hand will average one foot per letter, going to the boxes in which they are contained, and of course returning, making two feet every letter he sets. This would make a distance each day of 24,000 feet, or more than four miles, and in the course of a year, leaving out Sundays, that member travels about 1400 miles.

A REVOLUTION IN PRINTING.-The prospectus of a company formed for the purpose of bringing into operation in England some of the singular inventions of Beniowski, having reference to letterpress printing, has just been issued. It says:-"By the new mode of forming the types (to speak only of one of the most striking features), any man, woman, or child, who is acquainted with the common alphabet, will be enabled to become a useful and correct compositor, with only a few hours' previous instruction; and by other inventions contained in these patents, the mechanical toil and irksomeness of composing are greatly diminished, while the production is increased five-fold, so that this most important part of the printers' art may be made easy with regard to bodily toil, as well as simple with regard to mental preparation. A new field for employment may thus be opened to thousands of that sex and those classes to which society offers at present so few

remunerative channels for the exercise of honest industry. A revolution will also be established in printing, analogous to that effected in weaving by the application of the power-loom, enabling men, women, and children, with but little previous instruction, to become skilful compositors."

MINIATURE OAKS.-If an acorn be suspended by a piece of cord within half an inch of the surface of some water contained in a glass, and permitted so to remain without disturbance for a few months, it will burst, send a root into the water, and shoot upward a straight tapering stem with beautiful little green leaves. In this way a young oak-tree may be produced on the mantelshelf of a room, and become an interesting object. The chestnut will also grow thus, and probably other nut-bearing trees. The water should be often changed when the plant has appeared.

ASBESTUS is a fibrous, mineral substance, which will burn, but cannot be consumed. It is frequently used in the present day in stoves, by which the consumption of fuel is avoided. Pliny, who lived 1800 years ago, said he had seen napkins made of cloth manufactured from asbes tus; and that when taken from the table after a feast, they were thrown into the fire, by which means they were rendered cleaner than if they had been washed in water. The principal use of asbestus cloth was for the shrouds used at royal funerals, to wrap up the corpse, that the human ashes might be preserved when the body was burned.

How THE METROPOLITAN SMOKE NUISANCE MAY BE ABOLISHED.-We are pleased to see that Messrs. Truman, Hanbury, and Co., have addressed a letter to the papers on this subject, in which they state that for the last five years they have adopted Jukes's apparatus-that it has fully answered their expectations-that it has saved them nearly 2000l. per annum, by enabling them to use small coal-and that the weavers in their neighbourhood (Spitalfields) are most thankful for their so doing, as they can make the most delicate-coloured silks without fear of tarnishing from a polluted atmosphere.

"DUN."-In the town of Lincoln, there was a famous bailiff (an officer appointed by the sheriff, who collects dues, arrests persons, etc.), whose name was John Dun. He was very active and successful in his business; and when a mau refused to pay his debts, the creditors sent John Dun to collect for them. From this circumstance, and the fame of this officer, the word Dun came to be applied to the asking of a person to pay his debts.

A PEOPLE WITHOUT A GOVERNMENT.-It is stated that Labrador, with a population of 20,000 inhabitants, has neither governor, magistrate, constable, nor lawyer; yet violence and disorder are uncommon among them-a fact highly creditable to their morals. Their chief occupation is hunting and fishing, the produce of which is sold chiefly to the traders from the United States, from whom they receive the most of their supplies.

ILLEGIBILITY OF WRITING.-The following anecdotes will illustrate the misfortune of illegible writing, and hint at the importance of giving more attention to this subject, not only in regard to penmanship, but also in the construction of sentences. An English gentleman once applied to the East India Company to procure an office for a friend of his in India. Having succeeded in obtaining the appointment, his friend wrote him a letter of thanks, alluding to his intention of sending him an equivalent. The En-1 glishman could make nothing of the word equivalent but elephant, and being pleased with the idea of receiving such a noble animal as a present from his friend, he was at the accommodation. In a few weeks the equivalent came, expense of erecting a large and expensive building for its which proved to be not quite so large as an elephant, for it was nothing more nor less than a pot of sweetmeats.—In a letter describing a school, the writer wished to say, "We have two school-rooms, one above the other, sufficiently large to accommodate three hundred scholars," but he actually said, "We have two school-rooms sufficiently large to accommodate three hundred scholars one above the other." What rooms! What a pile!

LONGEVITY IN CANADA.-The "Montreal Herald" mentions some singular instances of longevity brought to light by the late census. It says:-"We understand that more than twenty persons are returned whose ages exceed one hundred years. The most venerable patriarch of these, if we make no mistake, resides in the township of Grey, Simcoe county, aged 115 years. Ninety-five years ago he scaled the cliff's of Quebec with General Wolf, so that his residence in Canada is coincident with British rule in the province. He has attached himself to the Indians, and lives in all respects like them. This veteran is named Abraham Miller. Gallantry will not permit us to omit honourable mention of an almost equally distinguished person of the other sex. Helen Maguire is one hundred and six years of age. She still dresses without help, and

walks out for air and exercise whenever the weather is

sufficiently fine to tempt her from the chimney corner. without spectacles." She still has all her faculties, and can thread a needle

THE MISSISSIPPI.-A river that runs cast or west crosses no parallels of latitude; consequently, as it flows toward the sea, it does not change its climate. The crops that are cultivated at its mouth are grown also at its sources, and from one end of it to the other there is no variety of productions; it is all wheat and corn, or wine, or oil, or some other staple. Assorted cargoes, therefore, cannot be made up from the products which such a river brings down to market. On the other hand, a river that runs north or south crosses parallels of latitude, changing its climate at every turn; and as the traveller descends it, he sees every day new agricultural staples abounding. Such a river bears down to the sea a variety of productions, some one of which the different nations of the earth are sure to want, and for which each one will send to the market at its mouth, or the port whence they are distributed over the world. The assortments of merchandise afforded by such a river are the life of commerce. They give it energy, activity, and scope. Such a river is the Mississippi, and the Mississippi is the only such river in the world.

No. 96.

seventeen assistants and followers. Starting from Adelaide, his object was to strike through the country from south to north; and though he did not accomplish half the distance during an absence of eighteen months, the journey threw great light upon the condition of the interior, and is one of the most remarkable on record. It was appropriately commenced by the leader. "I felt it a duty," says he, "I owed both to myself and to my men, before they finally left the habitations of civilized man, to address a prayer to Almighty God for His protection and guidance. The men stood uncovered around me; and, having concluded it, I directed them to proceed on their journey." On leaving the known districts, he was emphatically warned by the aborigines against proceeding into the interior. "The bullocks," said they, "will hold their tongues out; the drays will be upset; you will all die; for there is neither water nor grass on the hills, or a stick to burn." To this appalling picture of inland terrors, Sturt adds:" We have now arrived at the borders of the desert, which has foiled the most enterprising and the most undaunted of Australian explorers, and have now to try if we can penetrate its recesses. I can only say, that if I succeed in this great undertaking, it will be from the guidance of that good Being on whose aid and protection I have firmly relied."

A few experiences of the party may be introduced as illustrative of the physical geography of the country. At one spot, night-birds were noticed, making the most uncouth noises during the darkness, but flying about in silence by day. Whirlwinds frequently occurred, and whenever the breeze sprung up, from any point of the compass, it generally blew with violence, sometimes levelling in a moment every tent in the camp. Towards the commencement of the year 1845, answering to the middle of the Australian summer, the heat was terrific by day, insomuch that the poor bullocks pawed the ground away from the surface to get at a cooler bottom, and the dogs could hardly crawl from losing all the skin off the soles of their feet. Yet, during these hot days, the nights were so cold that heavy coats were worn, and the whole party were glad to creep close to the fires. In February the thermometer stood at 157°. Not a shower of rain fell for more than six months, or from November 19, 1844, to July 2, 1845.

The prediction of the aborigines proved true, happily, only in part. The expedition reached one of the most gloomy deserts ever trod by the foot of man. It consisted of monotonous small flats surrounded with sand-ridges, from eighty to a hundred feet in height, running in parallel lines to the horizon in each direction. Tussocks of thick wiry grass, only found in the most barren situations, and bushes mostly dead, covered the sand-hills. Day after day presented the same scene. No shelter was obtainable from the fierce rays of the sun, except under the cart; and the deserts were silent as the grave. Not a bird was seen, or an insect heard. Even the fly, the pest of Australia, was absent. Ants were the only living creatures observed, though tracks of the wild dog were noticed. The prospect at last altered, but only to become more savage and extraordinary. In an immense plain, the sandy ridges abruptly terminated, and were succeeded by an expanse of stones, so thickly cover

ing the surface as wholly to exclude the growth of vegetation. The stones were fragments of quartz rounded by attrition, but thickly coated with oxide of iron, giving a reddish-brown and purple tinge to the sterile landscape. It was ascertained to extend thirty-five miles by eighty. The visible horizon presented no object to serve as a guidepost; the horse's hoof left no track; and the adventurers had to steer by compass, depending on their own correctness for the possibility of retracing their steps. Again the scene changed. Beyond this stony waste lay plains of apparently unbounded extent, but of a totally different charac ter. The surface resembled ploughed land, but wholly devoid of vegetation. It might be compared to a sea of earth, without a single herb growing on it; and, what is more remarkable, not a single stone was to be seen within a few miles of the country where millions upon millions were strewn. Sturt advanced to within two degrees of the tropic of Capricorn, but no rain falling from July 17 to September 9, with another summer setting in, he wisely returned, and entered Adelaide, January 19, 1846. "I could not," he observes, "bring myself to retreat; but, for some wise purpose of His own, it had not pleased Providence to prosper me on this as on former occasions, and in yielding at length to the force of circumstances, I did so under the influence of a Power I could not resist-a Power that extended His hand to save me from that destruction in which my own impulses would otherwise have involved me." While searching for water on his retreat, a solitary pigeon, the only living thing that had been seen for some days, came flying over the sand-hills, pitched for a moment in some grass at a little distance, and then flew away. On going to the spot, a clear small pool was found by the thirsting wan derers. The bronze-winged pigeon has often in this way guided the Australian traveller to water. Sturt, justly regarded as the father of South Australia, became blind soon after his journey, and was liberally provided for by the colony.

While this expedition was in progress, Dr. Leichardt, an enterprising German visitor, with a party of ten, accomplished the arduous task of proceeding overland from Moreton Bay on the east coast to Port Essington on the north. This journey of 1800 miles distance, in the course of which more than 3000 miles were traversed, was performed in the interval between October, 1844, and November, 1845. The traveller lived, to use his own language, as the bird lives, flying from tree to tree, officiating as groom, cook, washerwoman, geologist, and botanist. His success was damped by the death of one of his companions, Mr. Gilbert the naturalist, who was killed by the natives in a night attack upon the encampment, near the gulf of Carpentaria.

The two most recent exploring tours are mournful in their details. In 1848, Mr. Kennedy, an officer in the survey department, was despatched to examine York peninsula, the northern extremity of Australia. He was landed at Rockingham Bay for the purpose, with eleven or twelve Europeans, and his servant, an aboriginal native boy. They proceeded for the interior in high spirits, but unexpected difficulties arose, and the stock of provisions failed. It was then resolved to divide the party,

son under

elder Vandyke wisely placed his The style of this artist was good, and his instructions might have satisfied the boy, had not the latter seen and studied the paintings of Rubens. One day a timid knock was heard at that great master's door. "Who is there?"

"A child, who understands your genius." Rubens admitted him to his studio, and, ere the day was ended, understood, in his turn, the genius of Vandyke. It is said that, after some years, Rubens became jealous of his pupil, but not in aught belonging to their art. Contemporary biographers say that the young painter loved with a romantic passion Isabel Brandt, who subsequently became the wife of Rubens. It is certain that about this time Vandyke left Holland for Italy; but he parted from his master on most affectionate terms, and presented to him, as a parting keepsake, a portrait of Isabel Brandt.

"If you were not going to travel," said Rubens, "I would give you in return your choice of all my pictures; but, amongst the masterpieces of Italy, you will not want them. I will therefore give you the best horse in my stable."

Vandyke set out, accompanied for some distance by his parents and a crowd of friends. When he parted from them, although his horse was impatient to get on, he turned back every moment to catch a last glimpse of his mother, who lingered behind the others. At length he could distinguish nothing of his native city save the arrow on the high cathedral tower.

After lingering for some time at the village of Samuthem, and painting for its church his celebrated piece of the Romish "St. Martin relieving the Poor," Vandyke arrived at Venice, and commenced a close and intense study of the Italian school. From Venice he went to Genoa, and thence to Rome, where cardinal Bentivoglio employed him to take his likeness. In the capital he found a number of his countrymen; but they were Italianized Flemings, servile imitators of the foreign school, and scornful contemners of the hardy and robust style of Rubens. They made a party to persecute Vandyke, and succeeded in forcing him to leave Rome. After a protracted sojourn in many of the chief Italian cities he returned to Antwerp, where he was affectionately welcomed by his illustrious master.

Despite, however, of the powerful patronage of Rubens, Vandyke found that a painter often shares a prophet's fate, of having no honour in his own country. The canons of Courtray bespoke from him an altar-piece-a masterly representation of the Saviour on the Cross. When it was finished the canons assembled to view it; and what was the painter's indignation to hear them condemn it with one voice.

The

in a partist's sole reply was to order the carpentier, over the altar. It was done, and the next day Vandyke sought the canons and told them they had not seen the piece in a proper light. They all declared they did not want to see it again; and, although they paid him the sum promised, they did it so reluctantly that the artist was deeply hurt.

Soon afterwards, a party of connoisseurs, passing through Courtray, declared loudly that the despised picture was a splendid work of art. On their recommendation crowds came to admire it, and the ignorant canons were loaded with ridicule. In order to regain their character, they convoked a chapter, and wrote to Vandyke to entreat him to paint for them another picture. He indignantly, though somewhat coarsely, refused in the following terms: "You may find daubers enough in Courtray and its environs: as for me, I am determined henceforward to paint for men and not for asses.' This latter epithet, as was to be expected, greatly scandalized the chapter.

Vandyke was not very fortunate in his dealings with ecclesiastical communities. He painted a "St. Augustine" for the monks of that order at Antwerp; and, when the time for payment came, they objected to the colour of the saint's garments, which they said ought to be black, and not white. Vandyke, hoping to be paid, changed the colour; and then the monks coolly told him they had no money. However," said one of them, "if you will paint another picture for us, we will try to find means to pay you for the St. Augustine." Although justly indignant at their bad faith, the artist consented to this compromise.

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From Antwerp Vandyke went to the Hague, where he was well received by the prince of Orange, and painted the portraits of more than twenty princes, dukes, and ambassadors. He afterwards crossed over to England; but, during this his first visit, his genius passed unnoticed, and having visited Paris with the same ill success, he returned to Antwerp to paint for the Capuchins.

Bright days, however, were in store for him. Some of the portraits which he had painted at the Hague had been conveyed to the English court, and Charles the First, delighted with their excellence, summoned the artist to his palace. Vandyke was at first unwilling to go; but the king insisted, and on his arrival received him with the most marked distinction. Charles presented him with his own likeness, set in diamonds, and sus pended by a chain of gold. He also created him Knight of the Bath, and settled a pension on him. Kiches, honours, and worldly pleasures now flowed in on Vandyke, yet was he perhaps less happy than when struggling for subsistence in his native land. He became insatiably greedy of riches, and when reproached by one of his friends for painting more negligently at the age of forty years than he had done at twenty, he replied: "Formerly I worked for fame; now I work for fortune."

Seized with the prevalent mania of believing in the transmutation of base metals into gold, he built an extensive laboratory, and very speedily the wealth which his magic pencil had won, "“died and made no sign" in the alchemist's crucible.

Charles loved him much, and the features of the