as to allow the particle to swell and burst, when the porridge becomes a pultaceous mass. So made, with rich milk or cream, few more wholesome dishes can be partaken of by any man, or upon which a harder day's work can be wrought. Children of all ranks in Scotland are brought up on this diet, verifying the poet's assertion-"The halesome parritch, chief of Scotia's food."-Burns. Forfarshire has long been famed for the quality of its brose and oat-cake, while the porridge of the Borders has been equally famous. The oat will grow and thrive in much colder situations than any other grain-bearing plants; indeed, even many parts of the south of England are said to be too warm for it; and the grain produced in those districts is reported to be less farinaceous, and less nutritious, and probably less wholesome as food, than that produced in the more northern and colder counties of England, and in Scotland. Much of this may be accounted for by the structure of the plant, and the disposition of its seeds. Each grain in the ear-or rather, in this case, the panicle, is separated from the others, and mounted on its peculiar stalk; and from the weight of the grain, when advancing to ripeness, the seeds are bent downwards, which protects them effectually from the immediate contact of moisture; while the separation of the seeds from one another, prevents the oat from being liable to many diseases, to which the seeds of most other grain-bearing plants are subject. But it will be observed, that this arrangement of the seeds exposes them individually much more to the direct influence of the sun, and enables evaporation to take place much more quickly from their surfaces, than is the case with wheat, or barley, or rye; and thus the oat requires moisture more essentially than they do; at the same time bearing much heat worse, and requiring it less. It is probably on these accounts that the oat seldom thrives in the warmer districts, and is almost always of better quality when grown in colder situations; and perhaps this may be one reason, if not the principal reason, why this grain is so much more used by the inhabitants of the northern part of this island as a staple article of food, than it is by those of the southern districts. Oatmeal is a very substantial article of food. No one could look upon the Scottish peasantry, with whom it is the chief article of subsistence, without being convinced that this grain is highly nutritious. Living upon little else than oatmeal, bread, or cake, and oatmeal porridge and buttermilk, with a broth almost wholly vegetable, these men are proverbially hardy and strong, subject to few ailments, living to a fully average age, and capable of enduring a great deal of fatigue, and that for considerable periods at a time.

The most mild preparation of oats is that known under the name of groats, and is used for making gruel. Gruel, whether it be made from groats or oatmeal, is a most valuable article of diet, in case of illness. Indeed, one of our most eminent medical men has said, "that gruel and dry bread are oftentimes the best physicians." Gruel, to be fitted for the use of invalids, should be boiled at least one hour. In many cases where it is thought to disagree, this will be found to be owing to its having been imperfectly cooked. Oatmeal is likewise used, and deserves to be much more used than it is, in the form of what is called stirabout or porridge, made as before described.

This is usually a very unirritating kind of food

an article of diet which is well adapted to the case of children; and for the labouring population, it forms a breakfast that is much more nourishing and wholesome than the tea, and bread and butter, or bread and dripping, which are in gland so much more generally made use of. Bread and milk, although certainly well suited to the stomachs of most children, is nevertheless found to disagree with some; and as a general breakfast for children, I think the oatmeal porridge and milk deserves to be preferred. It is an unstimulating diet; it is very easily digested; and it contains a very considerable portion of nutriment.

The following table, containing the relative amount of nutriment contained in various articles of diet, will show that the oat stands high in the

amount of nutriment contained in it:

The conclusions of this table are from the results of analysis by Playfair, and other chemists of established repute; and the separation of their parts of nutriment into Flesh-forming principle, Heat-forming principle, and Ashes, is in relation to the necessary elements of food suited to the wants of the body, according to the views of the modern school of Chemistry, after Liebig. We subjoin some receipts for the use of meal:Oatmeal Porridge.-Take three tablespoonfuls of meal, and stir it into half a pint of water; add thereto half a pint of new milk, and a little salt. Stir it well until it boils. Then let it simmer twenty minutes; pour into a basin, and eat with milk and salt.

Oatmeal Gingerbread.-Mix one pound of Scotch meal into a stiff paste with sour buttermilk, let it stay all night, and then add one pound prepared Lentil Powder, (Butler and McCulloch's,) into which has been rubbed half an ounce of bi-carbonate of soda, and one pound of brown fiour. Add treacle enough to bring it to the requisite consistence, roll any thickness, and bake in a moderate oven. A little sugar may be added.

Unfermented Oat-Cakes.-Soak one pound of meal all night in a pint of sour buttermilk. The next day rub a quarter of an ounce of carbonate of soda and a little salt into one pound of flour, and mix with the oatmeal. Roll out any thickness required, and bake in a moderate oven.

Oatmeal Pudding.-Soak four ounces of brown bread and two ounces of meal, in one pint of boiling milk; when cold, stir in two eggs well beaten, and a little 1 utmeg and sugar; pour into a buttered basin, and steam or boil one hour.

Flummery, or Sowins.-To three spoonfuls of meal, add one pint of water, let it stand in a warm place until it is sourish. Boil it the same as for porridge, and eat with salt only. This gruel is excellent for hot seasons and climates; taken for breakfast, it assists digestion, and prevents constipation, cools the body, and creates an active and cheerful disposition.-H. & J. S. C., Langton Cottage, Blandford.

THE OLD SNAIL AND THE FLY.

ADDRESSED

BY THE EDITOR TO THE YOUNG
READERS OF "THE FRIEND."

THE morning sun was beaming
Forth from the eastern sky;
Beneath a dock-leaf dreaming,
Reposed a little Fly.

He was as fair a creature

As ever spread a wingFull many a lovely feature

Bedeck'd this lovelier thing.

His eyes were of the brightest green,
His breast of deepest red,

Upon his back rich blue was seen,
And feathers on his head!

The sun far in the heavens

Had sped its course along,
At length the sluggard waken'd
By the skylark's song;
And then, his wings unfolding,
He hurried forth to view
The beauties of the morning,
And taste the fleeting dew.
He offer'd no thanksgiving,
Gave forth no contrite sigh,
But boasted as he flew-

"Who so beautiful as I?
The primroses and golden-cups-
They all were made for me-
To hold my morning breakfast,
Or serve my evening tea!"

An aged Snail was crawling
Upon a stony wall,
And thus unto the boaster

His voice was heard to call:
"Beware the Swallow flying
To and fro the lane;
Beware the lurking Spider,

That spreadeth out his chain;
They care not for thy beauty,

Nor the lustre of thine eye,-
If either one should catch thee,
Then thou wilt surely die."

But the Fly, his plumage waving,
Around the old Snail fled,
And with a voice of railing,
Unto the vet'ran said:
"If I was slow as thou art,

Thou dull and stupid thing!

I might fear the preying Spider,
Or the Swallow on the wing.
Get in thy slimy shell-

Thou fearful art and old;
But I am young and beautiful,
Am resolute and bold!"
And with a scornful smiling,
The proud Fly fled away,

Nor heeded what the old Snail
Most feelingly did say.

But soon becoming wearied,
And feeling very dry,

A brightly sparkling dew-drop
Allured his lustrous eye:

It lay upon a carpet

That o'er a bush was spread

A carpet soft as velvet,

Or a downy bed.

And once again he boasted:
"This carpet's laid for me-
Oh, would that whining Snail
Were here this sight to see!"
Then down he flew upon it,

Waving his plumes the while;
To see his air of vaunting

Would make a Stoic smile! But oh! the look of terrorThe anguish the dismayWhen once his feet alighted,

He could not tear away! And rushing from its hiding, A hideous Spider sprung;This was the very danger

Of which the old Snail sung!

The Spider quickly bound him
With cords all tight and strong,
And in another moment

Bore him the web along:
And there, a fetter'd captive,
Doom'd certainly to die,
Lay struggling unsuccessfully
This proud and gaudy Fly.
And in his latest moments,
Ere he the forfeit paid,
With meek and true repentance,
He this confession made:-

"I was a proud and foolish thing,
Disdaining e'en the sage,
Who sought to be my teacher;
But I mock'd his feeble age.
Had I his voice regarded,

I still might spread my wings,
And share my Maker's bounties,
With other living things.

Then let me bid you, Children,
Since I am doom'd to die,
Think often of the story

Of the old Snail and the Fly; And when old people warn you, Though they're infirm and slowRely upon their wisdom,

And by their counsels go!"

LIGHT IN THE GLOOM.

Down through the solemn depths of night, The gentle moonbeams stole,

And made things bright with their kisses of light,
Like stars on a darken'd scroll.

They fell on the turf, as golden dew,
Or swarms of slumbering bees;

And dream'd on couches white and blue,
Rock'd by the moaning breeze.

And I thought of the soul, a brighter flower-
And I thought of a moon more bright,
That down may shower, in a darker hour,
Beams of a purer light.

Though myriads ever its blessing crave,
Alike it smiles o'er all;

Ca young and old, the king and slave,
Ever its glories fall.

Then cease to doubt, oh trustless soul!
Oh! weary heart, be still;

On thee, the floods of light may roll,
Should gloom thy valleys fill.

PERCIL.

TRIFLES.

AN ENGLISH BULL.-An advertisement in one of the papers begins thus:-"To be let immediately, or sooner, if required," &c.

AN Irish gentleman at cards, having, on inspection, found the pool deficient, exclaimed"Here's a shilling short; who put it in?"

"PLEASE, sir," said a little girl, who was sweeping crossings for a living, to a miser, "you have given me a bad penny." "Never mind, little girl," replied he, "you may keep it for your honesty." In what two cases are precisely the same means used for directly opposite purposes? Bars are put on bank windows to keep thieves out, and on jail windows to keep them in.

A MERE "MATTER OF FORM."-Of all things that are worn for the "mere matter of form," stays should be the very last, for they have ruined more forms than any other article of dress.

A VERY WIDE OPENING." Wanted, at the Great Exhibition in Hyde Park, an active lad, where no other is kept. His work will be comparatively light, as he will only have to clean the windows!

EVERY book is a quotation; and every house is a quotation out of all forests, mines, and stonequarries; and every man is a quotation from all his ancestors.

GREAT geniuses live in their writings, and their house and street life is common-place.

As a good chimney consumes its own smoke, so a philosopher converts the value of all his fortunes into his intellectual performances.

is the period of unconscious strength. Children THE first period of a nation, as of an individual, cry, and scream, and stamp with fury, unable to and tell their want, and the reason of it, they express their desires; as soon as they can speak, become gentle.

PARENTAL TRANSFORMATION." I say, boy, whose horse is that you are riding?" "Why, it's daddy's." "Who is your daddy?" "Dont you know? why, uncle Peter Jones."-"So you are the son of your uncle?" "Why, yes, I calculate I am; you see dad got to be a widower, and married mother's sister's sister, so that now dad's my own uncle."

THE MOST USEFUL PLANET.-" Cuffee, what do you tink de most useful of de planets-de sun or de moon!" "Well, Sambo, I tink de moon orter take de first rank in dat ar' tickler." "Wha, wha, wha, why do you tink so, Cuffee?" "Well, I tell you-kase she shines by night, when we want light, and de sun shines by day, when we do not!" "Well, Cuffee, you is de greatest nigger I knose on-dat's a rale fact."

TRIFLES.

THOUGH high Philosophy despise such things,
They often give to weightier truths their wings:
Convey a moral, or correct bad taste;
Though aptly call'd light reading, still not waste;
"Ae spark of Nature's fire," we'll not despise,
A word sometimes makes brighter lovely eyes;
A flash of wit disarms old care of wrath,
One happy line, throws beauty in our path;
Though sages say, "Light learning wisdom stifles,"
There is delight, in stringing useful TRIFLES.

AN old woman took a letter from a post office, but not knowing how to read, and being anxious to learn the contents, supposing it to be from one of her absent sons, she called on a person near, to read the letter to her; he accordingly began"New York, Sept. 24th, 1850. Dear Mother," then making a stop to find out what followed, as the writing was not very legible, the old lady exclaimed:" It is from poor Jerry, I knew it was-he always stuttered "

PHILOSOPHY is the account which the human mind gives to itself of the constitution of the world."

THOUGHT Seeks to know unity in unity; poetry to show it by variety-that is, always by an object or symbol.

THERE is no thought in any mind, but it quickly tends to convert itself into a power, and organises a huge instrumentality of means.

THE longest course is quickly lost in the sea. VICE can never know itself and virtue; but virtue knows both itself and vice.

THE right punishment of one out of tune, is to make him play in tune.

THE fine which the good, refusing to govern, ought to pay, is to be governed by a worse man; that his guards shall not handle gold and silver; but shall be instructed that there is gold and silver in their souls, which will make men willing to give them what they need.

WHEREVER the sentiment of right comes in, it takes precedence of everything else.

THE atmosphere of moral sentiment is a region ficence to toys, yet opens to every wretch that has of grandeur, which reduces all material magnireason, the doors of the universe.

A DROP of water has the properties of the sea, but cannot exhibit a storm.

THERE is beauty of a concert as well as of a flute; strength of a host, as well as of a hero. THE wiser a man is, the more he will be a worshipper of the Deity.

THE mind is a finer body, and resumes its functions of feeding, digesting, absorbing, excluding, and generating, in a, new and ethereal element.

DOMESTIC RECEIPTS.

Spanish Flummery.-To a pint of sherry add two ounces of isinglass, the rind of two and the juice of four lemons, the yolks of ten eggs, and sugar to taste. Boil all well together, and strain through a fine napkin.

Preserved Apples.-Take half a hundred of the best lemon pippins, cut into thick slices; and a quarter of a hundred of sheep-snouts, very juicy, and cut small. Boil with them four pounds of loaf sugar to every nine pounds of apples, the rind of six lemons, and two ounces of white ginger in slices. When putting them into the stewpan, add as much water as will keep them from burning; the sheepsnouts will then form a syrup for the pippins. Siberian Crabs.-Make a rich syrup with sugar, the juice and rind of lemons, cloves, and a little brandy. A little red currant jelly improves the colour. When it boils, throw in the fruit, which must be quite ripe. Let it boil for a few minutes, then take it up, and let cool. Boil again, and continue doing so until the crabs become quite soft. They must not be left long on the fire, or else the skins would break.

Lemon Wine, (an Irish receipt).-Mix well together the rind of six, and the juice of eighteen lemons, one gallon of whisky, six quarts of cold water, three pounds of loaf sugar, a stick of cinnamon, three dozen cloves, two ounces of bitter almonds, and a quarter of a pound of burnt sugar. When the sugar is well dissolved, add three quarts of boiling new milk. Let it stand for two hours, and strain through a flannel bag until quite clear. This quantity will fill eighteen quart bottles.

Mock Preserved Ginger.-Boil, as if for the table, small, tender, white carrots; scrape them until free from all spots, and take out the hearts. Steep them in spring water, changing it every day, until all vegetable flavour has left them. To every pound of carrot so prepared, add one quart of water, two pounds of loaf sugar, two ounces of whole ginger, and the shred rind of a lemon. Boil for a quarter of an hour every day, until the carrots clear; and, when nearly done, add red pepper to taste. This will be found equal to West Indian preserved ginger.

Apple Jelly. Take half a hundred of juicy baking apples-sheep-snouts are the best; take off the rind; cut them in quarters, carefully keeping out the cores and pips; put them in a wide stewpan; cover them with spring water, and let them boil slowly until reduced to a pulp, about the thickness of apple sauce. Squeeze them in a coarse towel until quite dry. To every pint of juice add one pound of loaf sugar, and the rind of a lemon. Put it on the fire, and let it simmer slowly. As it boils, throw in, for every pint of juice, the strained juice of two lemons. Stir over the fire, let it boil again; with your spoon take out the lemon rind, and put it in pots to cool. The juice squeezed from the apples should be rather thick; the lemon juice clears it.

Orange Jelly.-To a pint of orange juice strained, add half an ounce of dissolved isinglass, and sugar to taste. Boil, and when nearly cold, pour into shapes. [The above seven receipts have been tried, and are confidently recommended by Mrs. K., Cork.]

Dried Salmon.-Pull some into flakes; have ready some eggs boiled hard and chopped large;

put both into half a pint of cream, and two or three ounces of butter rubbed with a teaspoonful of flour. Skim it, and stir till boiling hot; make a wall of mashed potatoes round the edge of the dish, and pour the above into it.-[I can answer to the above being good, having often used it in Yorkshire.-W. W. S.]

Summer Drink.-In half a tumblerful of cold spring water, pour two large teaspoonfuls of lemon syrup, and half a teaspoonful of carbonate of soda; when perfectly dissolved, add the same quantity of tartaric acid, and stirring smartly, drink during the effervescence.-[This forms a cheap and agreeable beverage for hot weather, and for which, I am sure, many readers of your valuable Friend would be thankful.-A. Mc. P., Ayr.]

Chowder-a Sailor's dish.-Cut salmon, halibut, or any rich fish, into steakes of an inch thick; season them highly with pepper, salt, and cayenne; put a layer of sliced potatoes (raw) in the bottom of the stew-pan; then a layer of broken cabinbiscuit; next the fish; then a layer of thin-sliced ham. Fill the stewpan in this manner; finish with a large piece of butter. Add water enough to moisten the whole; stew slowly two hours, never stirring, but occasionally shaking the pan to prevent it burning to the bottom. If it gets too dry, add a little more water.-[Very nice.-Correspondent.]

To dress Cold Fish.-Dip a flat dish in hot water, to prevent cracking; smear it with butter, and sprinkle white pepper on it; then a thick layer of stale bread, grated fine; a layer of the fish, picked from bones, and broken small; a little melted butter-prepared without milk-poured over another layer of bread-then of fish-with butter as before. Repeated as often as required for quantity of fish, and size of dish. Smooth the surface with a spoon, and sprinkle slightly fine bread, mixed with white pepper on the top. Place it for twenty or thirty minutes- according to thickness-before a brisk fire, with a tin shade at back of dish, to refract the heat. Cold washed mutton may be redressed same way, first wiping the meat, quite free from gravy, in a napkin. [Frequently used in our family, and by others to whom recommended.-W.]

To Pickle Walnuts.-A lady recommends the following receipt as very excellent for pickling walnuts :-Gather them when dry. Take a large needle, and perforate them through in several places Strew the bottom of a jar with best powdered ginger, crushed cloves, and salt; then put in some walnuts. Then again salt, powdered ginger, crushed cloves, and so on alternately, till the jar is rather more than three quarters filled, placing plenty of salt and the spices at top. Then cover them with the best vinegar-the French vinegar is excellent. Quite fill the jar with vinegar; tie a bladder over the jar, and set it by till November or December. Then pour the liquor off, and this boiled up with spices, anchovies, English shalots, and plenty of bay-leaves, adding cayenne pepper, and more salt, will form a most excellent walnut catsup for fish or steakes. Then put fresh vinegar, spices, and bay leaves, to the walnuts; fill the jar; and in a fortnight they will be fit to eat, and are very far superior to those that are soaked in salt and water, as they usually are done, besides gaining a most excellent fish sauce from the first vinegar. Those who once try this plan will never return to the old one.-Canterbury..

FERNS AND MOSSES.

SEPTEMBER.

How beautiful are ripening fields of grain,
Varying the landscape. And how fair the scene
Of hill and dale, and woodland spreading wide;
With cottage homes, and village fanes, that lift
Their spires to heaven.

WHY is it that the Brake-fern grows profusely in some parts of Kent, whilst almost every other fern is wanting? that banks and hedgerows in the neighbourhood of Sydenham, especially, are profusely feathered with this interesting species? We have spoken elsewhere concerning the Pieris aquilina-of its wide diffusion, and association with memorial sites and ruins; but nowhere have we seen it more pleasingly localised than in a sloping field which extends from the turnpike road on Sydenham Hill towards the village. Ripening ears of grain grow luxuriantly on either side the pathway; to some they might have formed a rustling canopy, but to us they presented the semblance of tall stems, uplifting their luxuriant heads to air and light, bringing forcibly to mind the vivid description of St. Pierre, who loved to lie down among the grass and corn, and observe the dappled insects that darted merrily in all directions.

Half-way down, the view was beautiful: full in front arose the stately tower of Upper Sydenham church, and in the distance the tall spire of Penge church was seen among the trees. Far as the eye could reach were hills and woods, and in the middle distance corn-fields and pasture land, with sheep and cattle. While lingering to admire the lovely landscape, comprising in its length ar.1 breadth much that is especially characteristic of English scenery, we observed on our left a space of broken ground covered with ferns and furze, and encircled with rustling grain; on the verge of this wild spot, and nestling among the corn, stood a small brotherhood of Brake-ferns, so comparatively small and delicately formed, that the eye, in looking on them, seemed to behold vegetable prototypes of those modest and retiring ones who shrink from the rough paths in which others of less gentle mood delight to venture. But our problem has not yet been solved. Who may tell the reason why, in a land thus favoured with hills, and dales, and sunny glades among the woods, the Brake-fern alone is found? This is one of Nature's mysteries; or it may be that we are instructed by the wonderful arrangement of the vegetable world, that all things have their prescribed limits-that, moreover, the smallest plant or fern has a lesson inscribed on its leaves, which the passer-by will do well to read, bidding him take note, that each one is endowed with qualities which represent somewhat in the moral world. Thus, for instance, the geographic arrangement of trees, and shrubs, and flowers-of herbs and parasitic plants, admirably exemplifies the assignment of different races, among men, to various portions of the earth; while such as mostly beautify the trunks or branches of old trees, hint instructive thoughts of mutual benefits, and of that dependence on each other which renders every individual a benefactor to his kind.

The Athyrium filix-femina, or Lady-fern-the

Polypodium filix-femina of Lightfoot, Bolton, and Withering-though growing profusely in moist and shady places, about rivulets, and on heaths,

LADY-FERN.

yet frequently adorns the aged heads of pollard trees, and often springs from out the hollows wrought by time, or woodpeckers. This species, one of the most elegant among British ferns, though universally yet not equally distributed, is pleasingly associated in our remembrance with a wild and solitary place in Gloucestershire, which botanists may visit with advantage. That place is called Custom Scrubs; its locality is beside the old road from Stroud to Cheltenham, where the traveller, having ascended a considerable eminence, passes a fine beech wood, and looks down on the pretty little town of Painswick, beautifully situated on the declivity of a hill, the summit of which is crowned with an old Roman encampment thrown up by Ostorius. The road passes a series of valleys, renowned in history as the last strongholds of the ruthless Danes in the time of Alfred; and on the verge of the most remote and solitary, stands Custom Scrubs, with its rude cottages, and profusion of dark junipers. There grows the Lady-fern, a name expressive of its graceful and fragile form. Ray applied the term to our common Brakes, but Linnæus, with that delicate perception of whatever was most appropriate, assigned it to the one of which we speak.

Two distinct types of form pertain to the Ladyfern, and may be thus described :

1. Flattened type.-"The fronds are broad, heavy, and drooping, and often of considerable size, perhaps even from three to five feet in length; the pinnulæ are perfectly flat, with all their cuttings clearly displayed; and the masses of thecæ seldom, if ever, become perfectly con fluent. Plants of this type vary infinitely in the cutting of the pinnulæ; also in the colour of the rachis, which is green, or inclining to red, purple, or even brown."

2. Convex type.-"The fronds are more narrow, rigid, erect, light, and feathery, of a smaller size, but still occasionally reaching from two feet to thirty inches in height; the pinnulæ are convex, the margins uniformly bent downwards; the masses of thecæ crowded and confluent; the rachis somewhat pellucid, and very brittle. This type is generally pale green, sometimes nearly white, occasionally of a pinkish tinge, and even nearly as red as coral."

Observe, also, that in these two very marked varieties, the one with broader segments of dark green hue, and having a rachis of pale purple, is less common than the variety of which the segments are of a more delicate texture, and the frond itself of a pale green. The latter varies considerably in size, according to soil and situation. In damp and shady places, beside streams,