being almost constantly in a state of effervescence. But the change of temperature assigned to it is apparent only, resulting from the strongly contrasted temperature of the external air at noon and night. Amidst the burning heat of midday, the water will feel cool to the hand, and be warm at night, when the atmosphere is in an opposite condition. Though divested of mysterious properties, the fountain is an object of singular beauty, and of no little interest, when we reflect that thousands of years ago princes and sages stood by its margin, gazing with wonder and veneration upon its sur face. The transparent water bubbles as gaily as ever, and reflects as brightly the splendour of the heavens, while time has impressed its changes upon everything human once associated with it. Shattered and moss-grown masonry peeps out at the brink from a growth of reeds and rushes intertwined with creeping plants; surrounding palms open between them, long, majestic, and shady vistas, like the solemn aisles of a great cathedral; while a rill emerges from the spring, and runs rippling towards the mouldering temple of the unshrined, dethroned, and nearly forgotten Am mon. the assent of all who were present, he began by knocking away some very thin little pieces of lath, which appeared to be no part of the machinery but to go from the frame of the machine to the wall of the room, merely to keep the corner posts of the machine steady. It was found that a catgut string was led through one of these laths and the frame of the machine, to the head of the upright shaft of a principal wheel; that the catgut was conducted through the wall, and along the floors of the second story to a back cock-loft at the distance of a number of yards from the room which contained the machine and there was found the moving power! This was a poor old fellow with an immense beard, and all the appearance of having suffered a long imprisonment, who, when they broke in upon him, was unconscious of what had happened below, and who, while he was seated upon a stool, gnawing a crust, was with one hand turning a crank. The proprietor of the perpetual motion soon disappeared. The mob demolished his machine, the destruction of which immediately put a stop to that which had been for so long a time, and with so much profit, exhibited in Philadelphia. PERPETUAL MOTION. AMONG the numerous curious facts connected with THE POWER OF A WORD. the history of the oft-exploded and oft-renewed "I NEVER can forget that word which was once whispered to me in an inquiry meeting," said a pious man once to a search for perpetual motion, the following anecdote friend. "What word was it?" "It was the word ETERis worthy of perusal. It appears that some years NITY. A young Christian friend, who was yearning for ago an American, named Redheffer, contempo- my salvation, came up to me as I sat in my pew, and raneous with the celebrated Fulton, pretended to simply whispered 'Eternity' in my ear, with great solemThat word made have discovered perpetual motion, and for a longnity and tenderness, and then left me. time deluded the people, and realized a large sum me think, and I found no peace till I believed in the Saviour." of money. It was almost universally admitted that he had made a wonderful discovery, and men of learning and science formed various theories to account for this perpetual motion. Mr. Fulton was a perfect unbeliever in Redheffer's discovery, and although hundreds were daily paying their dollar to see the wonder, Mr. Fulton could not be prevailed upon, for some time, to follow the crowd. He was at length induced by some of his friends to visit the machine. It was in an isolated house in the suburbs of Philadelphia. 66 In a very short time after Mr. Fulton had entered the room in which it was exhibited, he exclaimed, Why, this is a crank motion." His ear enabled him to distinguish that the machine was moved by a crank, which always gives an unequal power, and therefore an unequal velocity in the course of each revolution; and a nice and practised ear may perceive that the sound is not uniform. If the machine had been kept in motion by what was its ostensible moving power, it must have had an equable rotary motion, and the sound would have been always the same. After some little conversation with the showman, Mr. Fulton did not hesitate to declare that the machine was an imposition, and to tell the gentleman that he was an impostor. Notwithstanding the anger and bluster these charges excited, he assured the company that the thing was a cheat, and that if they would support him in the attempt, he would detect it at the risk of paying any penalty if he failed. Having obtained The holy M'Cheyne was once riding by a quarry, and stopped to look in at the engine-house. The fireman had just opened the door to feed the furnace with fresh fuel; when M'Cheyne, pointing to the bright hot flame, said mildly to the man, "Does that fire remind you of any thing?" The man could not get rid of the solemn question. To him it was an effectual arrow of conviction. It led him to the house of God, and will lead him, we trust, to heaven. blessings which had resulted from the labours of Dr. Carey, A single remark of the Rev. Charles Simeon, on the in India, first arrested the attention of Henry Martyn to the cause of missions. His mind began to stir under the new thought, and a perusal of the life of Brainerd fixed him in his resolution to give himself to the dying hea then. Sabbath-school to get the spiritual census of the school. A member of a church, not long since, overtook a lady, on her way to a prayer-meeting. She asked the young woman if she never thought of her own salvation? The lady thus addressed, replied that during all her life she salvation of her soul! Within a month from that time had never had one word spoken to her before about the she became a devoted member of the flock of Christ. that Fellow-disciple! have you never yet spoken one word to an impenitent friend about the most momentous of all questions? Then I fear you will find no one in heaven Though you may reach the "many mansions," I fear your you were the means, under God, of sending there. crown will glitter with no splendours. It will be a starless crown.-Presbyterian. Varieties. TELEGRAPHIC LIGHTNING.-During a recent thunderstorm in America, Mr. Smith, the operator in the telegraph office at New London, laid a large piece of glass, used as a "paper weight," upon the button attached to the wire, when an explosion occurred, loud as the discharge of a pistol, and upon examining the glass, a considerable portion of it was found melted off, and one side was turned black. Mr. Smith says these phenomena frequently occur upon the approach of a thunder-cloud, and sometimes before the cloud is in sight; but he has never before known the explosions so loud, or the sparks so distinct and continuous. THE SOAP-PLANT.The Vienna journals announce that a firm of California has sent to that city some seeds of the soap-plant. It grows wild in California, rising to the height of about a foot. The plant fades away in the month of May, and inside each is a ball of natural soap, superior, it is asserted, to any that can be manufactured. MACHINE FOR BORING ROCKS.-A gentleman has patented a new method of boring rocks, consisting of an apparatus, in which a series of cutters, or chisels, are caused to cut out segments of circles from the centre to the periphery of the opening to be excavated, and by a continuous succession of instruments the whole of the rock is cut away. CRATON FOR WRITING ON GLASS.-M. Brunquell prepares a crayon for writing on glass so as to enable the contents of glass vessels to be inscribed on them at once. He takes four parts of spermaceti (stearine), three parts of tallow, and two parts of wax, and melts them in a cup; six parts of minium and one part of potash are then stirred into it, and the whole is kept warm for half an hour, and then poured into glass tubes of the thickness of a lead pencil. After quickly cooling, the mass may be screwed up and down in the tube, and cut to a fine point with a knife. This crayon will readily write on clean, dry glass.Dingler's Polytechnic Journal. that COTTON ROPES FOR SHIPS, AND COTTON NETS.There is a novelty about the "Sovereign of the Seas doubtless will be soon imitated by other vessels. The ropes which form the running rigging are of cotton, which we understand is not only capable of a lighter twist, but is not liable to become deteriorated by friction in the same degree as hempen cords. After they have been in use, too, for years, they can be sold for nearly as much as the original cost. These ropes are quite smooth, and run with great rapidity through the blocks. The sails, also, of this Vessel are of cotton, two sets of cotton sails costing only the sum paid for one set of linen. Fishing-nets made of cotton are much used in America.-Scientific Reporter. THE FIRST WILLOW TREE.-It is said that all the weeping-willow trees in England and America originated from a twig set by Pope, the poet. He received a present of figs from Turkey, and observing a twig in the basket, he planted it in his garden, where it soon became a fine tree. CAST IRON PAVEMENTS.-The Bostonians are laying cast iron pavements. The pavement is of a novel character, composed of circular boxes of cast iron, about twelve inches in diameter, and five inches in height, divided into six compartments, so small as not to admit the hoof of a horse. In the present experiment, these spaces will be filled with gravel, but some other substance, such as a composition of asphaltum and sand or gravel, may be found more suitable. The surface of the pavement is grooved, to prevent horses which fit into the edges of the surrounding boxes, thus from slipping, and on the outer edge of each box are keys binding the whole firmly together. The thickness of the outer rim and the inner division is about an inch. The street will be covered with a network of iron, filled in with a substance to produce a smooth and durable surface. The inventor of this plan is Mr. William D. Terry of Boston, and it is the opinion in Boston that it will be successful. CHINESE CUSTOM.-When a Chinese Emperor dies, the intelligence is announced by despatches to the several provinces, written with blue ink, the mourning colour. All persons of rank are required to take red silk ornaments from their caps, with the ball or button of rank; all sub. jects of China, without exception, are called upon to forbear shaving their heads for one hundred days, within which period none may marry, play on musical instruments, or perform any sacrifice. DOMESTIC LIFE IN THE MIDDLE AGES.-Rude were the manners then: man and wife ate off the same trencher; a few wooden-handled knives, with blades of rugged iron, were a luxury for the great; candles unknown. A servant girl held a torch at supper; one, or at most two, mugs of coarse brown earthenware formed all the drinking appara tus in a house. Rich gentlemen wore clothes of unlined leather. Ordinary persons scarcely ever touched flesh meat. Noble mansions drunk little or no wine in summer; a little corn seemed wealth. Women had trivial marriage portions; even ladies dressed extremely plain. The chief part of a family's expense was what the males spent in arms and horses, none of which, however, were either very good or very showy; and grandees had to lay ont money on their lofty towers. Wretchedly indeed plebeians hovelled; and if noble castles were cold and dreary everywhere, they were infinitely worse in Italy, from the horrible modes of torture and characteristic cruelty, too frightful to dwell on. Few of the infamous structures built at the time treated of stand at present; yet their ruins disclose rueful corners.-History of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem. GASOMETERS. Some few years ago, several of the most eminent engineers of the day gave evidence before a Parliamentary Committee to the effect that a gasometer of greater diameter than 35 feet would be dangerous, and A BREAKFAST IN SAVOY.-Horace Greely, in a jump | recommended that in all cases where this limit was aping account of his ride in a diligence from Lyons across the proached, a series of strong walls should be built round the lower Alps to Turin, has a morceau about Chambery, the gas-holder, in order to lessen the injury which the almost capital of ancient Savoy, where he was allowed twenty-fise inevitable" explosion might entail. One has lately been minutes for breakfast. There was enough and good enough manufactured at Smethwick of 165 feet diameter. The to eat, and (as usual throughout all this region) wine in gas-holder of the Philadelphia Gas-works, erected in 1850, abundance without charge, but tea, coffee, or chocolate is 140 feet diameter, and 74 feet high, and one now erectmust be ordered and paid for extra. Even so I was unable ing there will be 160 feet diameter and 90 feet high, with to obtain a cup of chocolate, the excuse being that there a top nearly flat, having only rise enough to carry off the was not time to make it. I did not understand, therefore, water, without the usual framing and rafters for sustaining why I was charged more than others for breakfast; but to talk English against French or Italian is of course worse than useless, so I pocketed the change offered me and came away. On the coach, however, with an Englishman French and Italian, I ventured to expose my ignorance as near me who had travelled this way before, and spoke follows:-Neighbour, why was I charged three francs for breakfast, and the rest of you but two and a halff' 'Don't know-perhaps you had tea or coffee.' 'No, sirdidn't drink either. Then perhaps you washed your face and hands.' Well, would be just like me.' 'Oh, then, that's it! The iraif franc was for the basin and towel.' 'Ah, oui oui.' So the milk in that cocoa-nut was accounted for." the crown. FROST IN SIBERIA. The soil of Siberia, at the close of the summer, is found still frozen for fifty-six inches beneath the surface, and the dead that have lain in their coffins for one hundred and fifty years have been taken up unchanged in the least. A GOOD RULE.-Two persons-I believe a husband and a wife-being very much at variance, referred their quarrel to Mr. Howels. Each accused the other, and both declared themselves to be without blame. Mr. Howels heard them very patiently, and then said, "My judgment is this:-Let the innocent forgive the guilty." it may chance that to-morrow's "Times" may tell of some daring and successful foray upon the hoarded stock of jeweller or banker, upon the very spot where we are now loitering, the exploit will be betrayed by no unusual or suspicious sound: perchance, if violence is to be used, it will be done under cover of a clanking cart, ingeniously loaded to produce the greatest uproar, in which the lesser noise of the wrench or the crow-bar will be drowned. London's wakeful existence, has subsided by de-seen by the vigilant eye of the police. And thongh grees into a silence, settled, calm, and deep, and only broken now by the echoing footfall of some belated traveller hastening homeward, or houseless vagrant wandering drearily in search of a secret nook or hospitable shelter in which to stretch his wearied limbs. The slightest sound is reverberated between the lofty walls of houses, and the echoes of our own footsteps, as we plod quietly along, return to us from the other side of the way, as though some invisible companion dogged our march and mimicked every movement we make. Now and then the loud discordant voices of a group of late revellers returning from their orgies, affront | the solemn ear of midnight with yells of insane merriment and drunken laughter, at which the heart of genuine and innocent mirth sickens with disgust. At intervals the heavy-laden team is heard grinding its laborious way along the central causeway, on its route, with huge piles of luggage, to the out-lying railway station; and the clang of the driver's whip, the trampling of the horses' feet, and the tinkling of their garniture of bells, wake the discomfited sleeper from his first repose, who lies and listens as the disturbance dies into a lullaby, and he dreams again. But even these indications of life gradually vanish and subside, and as we enter the precincts of the old city, nought beyond the stealthy tread of the policeman on his round intrudes upon the quiet of the hour. It seems strange to remark that the city, which is by day the centre of life and activity-the very focus of commerce, with all its accompanying bustle and turmoil-is at night the most undisturbed and tranquil portion of the whole metropolis. A dead, sepulchral silence seems to reign in the deserted thoroughfares, where but a few hours ago the ear was distracted by every variety of sounds, blending in one confused and overwhelming murmur. A stillness so sudden and complete, amidst those lofty avenues of wealth and traffic, where now no sound or tread is distinguishable-no voice of inquiry or response is heard has a solemn suggestiveness, and awakens a train of pensive reflections which is easier, and to some minds pleasanter, to entertain than it might be to give them a definite expression. The deep silence which broods around is explainable by the fact that this, the most populous quarter of London during business hours, is the least populous after nightfall. Of the myriads who during the day congregate here to pursue the engrossing occupations of their lives, not one-third remain during the night; and the majority of those who do remain, whatever their status in society, are for the most part of that class who in their waking hours have paid the price of sleep sound and deep, and are now enjoying it. The times are altered since the good old citizens each barred himself in his citadel at sunset, and abandoned the causeway to knaves, swashbucklers, and plunderers, who looked upon every one as their lawful prey that ventured into the dim-lighted streets after darkness had set in. We can walk these quiet solitudes now at this hour, as safely as though the sun were high in the sky and the busy world of London on foot around us-perhaps, indeed, more The modern robber is no brawling bully, but a lurking sneak, who glides about in shadow and darkness, and whose design is defeated if he be So. As the clock strikes one, we are on London Bridge, and, for a wonder-for such a thing is not usual even at that hour-find it apparently deserted. The forest of shipping which lines either bank, but faintly discerned in the waning moonlight, is buried in profound repose, broken only by the gurgling of the water, and the feeble far-off hiss of some latearrived steamer, discharging her steam for the night. As we gaze down upon the rushing stream, a boat shoots rapidly beneath the arch, in which four human forms are for a moment visible, and then lost in the gloom. They are the Thames Police on the look-out for river pirates, who, but for their watchful guardianship, would levy terrible contributions upon the cargoes of vessels lying at anchor. On the other side, long rows of lights, reflected in glimmering red drops in the current below, mark the track of the various bridges across the channel of the river. Nothing moves upon its surface save its own noiseless ripple. But let us now take such a glance as our limits will allow, of that section of London society whose lot it is to be frequently, if not always, awake while others slumber, and to earn their daily bread, or to perpetrate their follies, or suffer the woes of their cheerless lot, during the hours of night. Whither shall we go? Here comes a night cab-man, who will drive us anywhere-and by his side we mount on the box. He is ready of speech, and has no secrets, and details his history as he drives along. He tells us he was a journeyman printer--a pressman-and worked at Strahan's for many years; that when there he married, but soon found that his earnings would not support his wife and rising family in the comfort she had been used to. So he expended the little money they had in the purchase of a cab and horses, by means of which, being his own proprietor, he managed by diligence, and by the use of a commodity scarce among his craft, called civility, to double his income. He has taken to night-work latterly, he says, because he wants to make a little money to apprentice his eldest boy to an engineer, on board one of the foreign steam ers. He is fluent on the statistics of the cab business, and no consideration, short of absolute starvation, would induce him to drive another man's cab or to let his son do so. Whither shall he drive us? To the printing-office, where, amidst the glare of gas and the heat and stench of an abominable atmosphere, the miles of columns which, when morning comes, are to feed the public appetite for news, are hustling and scrambling into existence-where compositors and "readers," and "grass-cutters" and makers-up, and galley-slaves and engine-men, and machine-boys and messengers, reporters and penny-a-liners, etc. etc., all dripping with perspiration and frantic with haste, are seething and steaming in one tremendous stew, the dishing-up of which will be the morning paper, as it lies damp on your breakfast table ? or where, in gangs of a hundred or more, men and boys are engaged in similar labours, which are to result in a blue-book for parliamentary digestion, and which is guaranteed to come forth and enlighten the world to-morrow? It were curious to observe how thoroughly the order of nature is inverted by the race of men whose midnight is twelve at noon, who breakfast at eight or nine in the evening, and dine at two in the morning-taking their supper and "turning in" just as other people are turning out. In this life-long game of contrarieties, they drag at their heels a large tribe of the humblest class, who make a living by ministering to their wants. mass of rags and squalor; and all, utterly beaten and exhausted with combined hunger and weariness, await the coming of that brief oblivion which slumber confers on the hopeless and desolate. Leaving these London lazzaroni to the enjoyment of such solace as sleep can afford them, we pursue our way westward, and, attracted by a light at the end of a court which debouches upon a cabstand in a main street, enter without ceremony one of those night-houses of refreshment whose doors are never closed to the public. Coffee, of a rather second-hand sort of flavour, is set before us, the discussion of which affords an opportunity of look. ing round upon the company. They are not very numerous, hardly a dozen in all. Four or five of them are evidently " watermen," in attendance upon the cab-stand outside, and these are sleeping, or attempting to sleep, over their empty cups and saucers. Some are jobbers in the neighbouring market, who have no regular home-at least in summer time-and who will remain here till the dawn gives them a chance of employment. A few are cab-drivers, some of whom are busy with plates of hot sausages and mugs of steaming coffee. There is a vehement discussion, partaking very much of the nature of a monologue, going forward-the presiding genius being a nondescript figure, in whom an air of reckless daring and independence is combined with every outward and visible demonstration of the most abject necessity. He is not much above thirty years of age, and is buttoned to the chin in an old surtout so closely as to leave the existence of a shirt a matter of doubt, were it not that by his violent gesticulation he discloses, through innumerable rents and slits, the fact that that indispensable item to the respectability of a gentleman is wanting. His hat has but half a While we are inwardly debating whither we shall go, our driver has brought us to the verge of what still survives of the old rookery of St. Giles's, and we dismount to take a glance at this old and classic locality. A few minutes' walk, and we are in the heart of the far-famed district of dirt, and in presence of a spectacle worthy of remark, and not likely soon to fade from the remembrance. It is an hour and a half past midnight, or nearly that, as we stand in -- street, in which every house is a lodging-house, open for the reception of no particular number of occupants, but for all, who or whatever they may be, that can pay threepence for a bed or a penny for liberty to lie on the floor. This locality is a nightly and wellknown refuge for the lowest dregs of society, whether needy or criminal, or both. It is here that the most wretched class of unfortunates of either sex, goaded by famine and exhaustion, seek oblivion of their sorrows in sleep. Hither come the ruined tradesman and the moneyless artisan for a shelter, in company with the habitual drunk-rim, but his chin is shadowed by a fortnight's ard, who lives but for the gratification of his own unnatural appetite, and who wants but a congenial stye in which to kennel himself for the night, Hither come the pickpocket and the smasher, because here, under cover of darkness, they can skulk in security; and with them comes the friendless and homeless wanderer, guileless of all but poverty, to find temporary repose at a price which even he can pay. And here they are all, swarming in the open air, seated on door-steps, or supine upon the pavement-not yet daring to go to bed, though they have mostly paid the price of their lodgings. There are a thousand reasons-reasons not to be mentioned to ears polite-why they should not turn in, after a day so hot as the past has been, until the first streak of dawn begins to appear. Some few who can afford the expense of a candle are already fast asleep, and we see their lights blinking dimly in upper stories; but the majority are waiting for the first appearance of day, whose rising beams will put the entomological host to flight, before they venture into their grim cham bers of repose. The lane is very partially lighted, and the glass of the gas-lamps has been wantonly pelted away to the last fragment. The flame flickers in the night-breeze, and casts its fitful gleams upon every form of poverty and wretchedness and vice, here huddled together as in a common asylum. Men and boys of all ages, old women and young girls-some bareheaded and with naked feet-are crowded together in one indiscriminate growth of stubble. His nether habiliments are fringed about his ankles with dirty, pendulous shreds, and his toes look out upon society through chasms in a pair of Wellingtons. He talks loudly, fluently, and correctly, if not exactly in the language of a gentleman, yet in the diction, at least, of one accustomed to educated company. Her majesty's ministers have the good fortune to merit his approbation, so far as they have acted hitherto; but he foresees the rock upon which they will split, unless of which he has his doubts-they be well backed by the country. He is satirical on the score of the budget; but, had he been at the chancellor's elbow, he could have whispered just the one thing which would have made it acceptable to the public. In the heat of his harangue he calls, rather pompously and parenthetically, for "coffee and two thin." The waiter or landlord, or both in one, steals out of the little dark cavern in the rear, and holds out his hand to the oratora silent reminder of an unpaid score chalked up against the inner wall. The politician draws himself up with dignity, and gives a half-appealing, half-indignant look around upon the company. A devouring but sympathizing cabman looks up from his plate and roars, Sarve it, I'll stand treat for vonce;" and the viands are set before the starving Demosthenes, who, drawing off the fragment of a glove, addresses himself deliberately to their consumption. He talks on, nevertheless, perhaps in self-defence, to ward off the coarse |