waters of marshes

and ponds, especially in the Spring, when the females have finished laying. They suspend themselves from the surface of the water, with their heads downwards to breathe. They have a separated round head, furnished with two sorts of antennæ and feelers, which enable them, by the motion which they give them, to draw their food to them, a bodice with tufts of hair upon it, an almost cylindrical abdomen, divided into ten segments, of which the last but one contains the lungs, upon the back; the last is finished by silks and threads, forming a radius.

These larvæ are very

lively, swim with great swiftness, and dive under water frequently, but always speedily return to the surface. After having gone through various changes, they are transformed into a nymph, which continues to move, by means of a tail and two fins at its end. This also remains on the surface of the water, but in a different position from the larva, its lungs being placed under the bodice. It is also on the surface of the water that the perfect insect is developed. The shell of the nymph becomes a kind of raft, which preserves it from drowning. All these productions are completed in the space of three or four weeks; thus, these insects produce several generations in the same year. This explains the fearful increase of these annoying insects, and the uselessness of the means employed to extirpate them by their individual destruction.-FROSSARD.

THE whole fruit of the horse-chestnut, cut in pieces, when about the size of a small gooseberry, and steeped in cold, soft water, with as much soap as will tinge the water of a whitish colour, produces a dye like annatto; the husks only, broken into pieces when the fruit is nearly ripe, and steeped in the same manner, with cold water and soap, produce a dye more or less bright, according to the age of the husk; both are permanent, and will dye silk or cotton, as much of the liquor as will run clear being poured off when sufficiently dark.

THE same sun which gilds all nature, and exhilarates the whole creation, does not shine upon disappointed ambition. It is something that rays out of darkness, and inspires nothing but gloom and melancholy. Men in this deplorable state of mind find a comfort in spreading the contagion of their spleen.-BURKE.

THE salt-works at Rehme could not be passed unseen. The manner in which the water from the saline spring is made to deposit its treasure is very ingenious. Stacks of thorn boughs, three hundred feet long, sixty feet high, and thirty wide, are constructed with the uniform symmetry and neatness of a brick mansion. The water is forced to the top of this structure, and, being carried in troughs along its whole extent, is made to drip gradually through every part of it. In its passage this water deposits lime, which attaches to every twig, and forms a little forest of petrifactions. Below the works are cellars, twelve feet deep, into which the purified water runs, whence it is conveyed to the boiling house, where a most pure and beautiful deposit of salt takes place on the sides of the boilers. This deposit is laded out, and immediately packed in baskets. MRS. TROLLOPE's Belgium.

THE VOYAGE OF LIFE.

BY THE AUTHOR OF RICHELIEU, DARNLEY, &c.

I WISH I could as merry be,

As when I set out this world to see,
Like a boat filled with good companie,

On some gay voyage sent.

There Youth spread forth the broad white sail,
Sure of fair weather and full gale,
Confiding life would never fail,
Nor time be ever spent.

And Fancy whistled for the wind,
And if e'er Memory looked behind,
"Twas but some friendly sight to find,

And gladsome wave her hand.
And Hope kept whispering in Youth's ear
To spread more sail, and never fear,
For the same sky would still be clear,
Until they reached the land.
Health, too, and Strength, tugged at the oar
Mirth mocked the passing billows' roar,
And Joy, with goblet running o'er,

Drank draughts of deep delight;
And Judgment at the helm they set,
But Judgment was a child as yet,
And, lack-a-day! was all unfit

To guide the boat aright :—
Bubbles did half her thoughts employ,
Hope she believed-she played with Joy,
And Fancy bribed her with a toy,

To steer which way he chose;
But still they were a merry crew,
And laughed at dangers as untrue,
Till the dim sky tempestuous grew,

And sobbing south winds rose.
Then Prudence told them all she feared,
And Youth awhile his messmates cheered,
Until at length he disappeared,

Though none knew how he went
Joy hung his head, and Mirth grew dull,
Health faltered, Strength refused to pull,
And Memory, with her soft eyes full,

Backward her glance still bent

To where, upon the distant sea,
Bursting the storm's dark canopy,
Light from a sun none now could see

Still touched the whirling wave.
And though Hope, gazing from the bow,
Turns oft, she sees the shore,—to vow,
Judgment, grown older now, I trow,

Is silent, stern, and grave.
And though she steers with better skill,
And makes her fellows do her will,
Fear says the storm is rising still,
And day is almost spent.

Oh that I could as merry be,
As when I set out this world to see,
Like a boat filled with good companie,
On some gay voyage sent.

TASTE FOR SCIENTIFIC INQUIRY. A MIND which has once imbibed a taste for scientific inquiry, and has learnt the habit of applying its principles readily to the cases which occur, has within itself an inexhaustible source of pure and exciting contemplations: one would think that Shakspeare had such a mind in view, when he describes a contemplative man as finding—

Tongues in trees-books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones-and good in everything. Accustomed to trace the operation of general causes, and the exemplification of general laws, in circumstances where the uninformed and uninquiring eye perceives neither novelty nor beauty, he walks in the midst of wonders; every object which falls in his way elucidates some principle, affords some instruction, and impresses him with a sense of harmony and

All the gods

with their faces towards the east. are invited to the wedding by the master of the ceremonies, and especially the god of obstacles, Vighneswara, whose horribly ugly idol is placed near the two candidates for matrimonial honours. The neigh

It is not one of the least advantages of these pursuits, which, however, they possess in common with every class of intellectual pleasures, that they are altogether independent of external circumstances, and are to be enjoyed in every situation in which a man can be placed in life. The highest degrees of worldly prosperity are so far from being incompatible with them, that they supply additional advantages for their pursuit, and that sort of fresh and renewed relish which arises partly from the sense of contrast, partly from experience of the peculiar pre-eminence which they possess over the pleasures of sense in their capability of unlimited increase and continual repetition, without satiety and distaste. They may be enjoyed, too, in the intervals of the most active business; and the calm and dispassionate interest with which they fill the mind, renders them a most delightful retreat from the agitations and dissensions of the world, and from the conflict of passions, prejudices, and interests, in which the man of business finds himself continually involved.--SIR JOHN HERSCHEL.

MARRIAGE CEREMONIES AMONG THE
HINDOOS.

MARRIAGE is considered, among the Hindoos, as indispensable to human happiness. The unmarried man is regarded as a useless member of society, and altogether a person to be pitied, if not despised. Celibacy is only respected among devotees whose lives are consecrated to religion, the austere discipline of which among those heathens, renders such as daily undergo it, unfit either for social or domestic intercouse. When a Brahmin becomes a widower, he considers that he has fallen into a degraded state, and therefore hastens to raise himself again, as soon as possible, to the enviable dignity of a married man. Widows, however, by one of their social laws, as arbitrary as it is inhuman, are not only forbidden to marry, but forced either to sacrifice themselves upon the corpses of their deceased husbands, or pass the remainder of their lives in contempt and infamy.

Marriages in India are commonly made when the parties are in a state of infancy, and in almost all cases, the female is not above three or four years when she becomes a wife. She is frequently united to a spouse old enough to be her great-grandfather. The inclinations of the youthful bride, as may be supposed, are never consulted; and thus it scarcely ever happens that a Hindoo marriage terminates in reciprocal affection.

deformities which they contain, in the shape of copper divinities, are brought forward, to accept the invitation of the master of the banquet.

The bridegroom now performs an act of expiation, by making a present to the officiating Brahmin, who grants him absolution from sin. Next follows a sort of farce. The betrothed husband suddenly affects a desire to quit his bride, and go upon a pilgrimage to Casi* the Splendid, in order to wash himself in the sacred Ganges, at a celebrated ghaut in that city. He accordingly equips himself as a traveller, and, being supplied with the necessary viaticum, pretends to set out upon his holy journey, accompanied by minstrels, who keep up such a clangor before and behind him, that the very birds rise to the clouds, as if scared by the discordant din. He is accompanied by several relatives and friends, who offer to bear testimony to his pious undertaking. No sooner, however, has he got beyond the sight and hearing of those assembled to partake of the marriage banquet, than turning towards the east, he stops and awaits the coming of his future father-in-law, who takes care to be on the spot at a given time, and there, in the presence of those persons who had accompanied the bridegroom, solicits his immediate return, again formally offering him his daughter if he will desist from his meditated pilgrimage. The fictitious pilgrim, of course, readily assents to the proposal, and returns with her father to the expectant bride. Upon his return, having fastened upon his right wrist and upon the left of that of his betrothed wife a small piece of saffron, he seats himself by her side, with his face towards the east. His father-in-law then advances, looks steadfastly into his eyes, and declares he beholds the great Vishnoo. No sooner has he proclaimed this aloud, than he makes the mock divinity put both his feet into a new dish filled with cow-dung. This done, he first washes them with water, then with milk, then again with water, uttering certain potent mantras† during the whole of the singular ceremony.

This being ended, the father-in-law calls upon each of the gods whom he worships, by name. He like. wise invokes the seven Rishis, or penitents, celebrated throughout Hindostan, five equally celebrated virgins, seven famous mountains, the woods, the seas, the eight cardinal points, the fourteen worlds, the year, the season, the month, the day, the minute, and many other particulars too tedious and minute to enumerate. He next joins the hands of the bride and bridegroom, pouring water over them in honour of Vishnoo. By this act, he resigns his daughter for ever to the authority of him to whom she has consented to become wedded.

Upon this joyful occasion, the place is gaily decorated, the betrothed being seated on a mound of earth

mount to the wedding-ring in Christian marriages. The tahli is a small ornament of gold worn upon the neck, and is a sign that the person wearing it is a married woman. It is removed with great form upon the husband's death, as a widow is considered no longer worthy to wear it. Upon the tahli is engraved the figure of Vighneswara, the god of obstacles, or Lakshmi, the sita‡ of Vishnoo, or of some divinity in + Mantras are certain forms of prayer, + Wife.

* Benares.

especial estimation with the caste. It is fastened to the throat by a short string, dyed with saffron, and composed of 108 extremely fine threads.

Before tying it round the neck of the bride, she is made to sit by the side of her husband, and, after some slight preliminary ceremonies, ten Brahmins make a partition with a curtain of silk, which they extend from one to another, between them and the wedded pair, whilst the rest are reciting the mantras, and invoking Brahma with Saraswati, Vishnoo with Lakshmi, Siva with Parvati, and several more; always coupling each god with his consort. The ornament is now brought in to be fastened to the neck of the bride. It is presented on a salver, neatly garnished with sweet-smelling flowers. Incense is offered to it, and it is presented to the assistants, each of whom touches it, and invokes blessings upon it. The bride then turning towards the east, the bridegroom takes the tahli, and, reciting a mantram aloud, binds it round her neck *.

At this stage of the proceedings, the sacrifice of the Homan is made, and the happy couple walk round the consecrated fire, which is blazing with incense. The bride then seats herself upon the mound, as before, and the husband taking her ankle in his right hand, brings it in contact with a lump of paste, formed from sandal-wood. This constitutes the happy pair, as we are accustomed to call new married couples, man and wife. The contract is ratified by their walking round the fire, and henceforward nothing can annul an engagement so solemnly

made.

It is frequently the custom to pour ground rice, from fine wicker baskets, upon the heads of the newly-married pair. In some instances, beads are employed, and in others, where the parties are extremely rich, pearls are used, which become the perquisite of the attendants. Indeed, the expenses of Hindoo marriages are occasionally so enormous, that princes have been known to impoverish their states by the profusion and magnificence displayed at the wedding of their children. It often happens that a parent will expend his whole fortune upon a marriage entertainment, and pass the rest of his days in the most pitiable destitution.

The nuptial ceremonies continue many days. On the third day the astrologer consults the zodiac, and, pointing out to the married party a small star in the constellation of Ursa Major near the tail, directs them to offer their devotions to it, declaring it to be Arundhati, wife of one of the seven Rishis, or penitents.

On the following day, the husband and wife rub each other's legs with saffron-water. Many trifling ceremonies of this kind, the purpose of which it is not easy to comprehend, take place for nearly a week after the marriage has been solemnized.

The wedding dinner is invariably furnished with an immense number of guests, and, if the entertainers be rich, is always extremely magnificent. Upon this occasion only, the bride sits down to partake with her husband of the luxuries provided; indeed, both eat out of the same plates. This, however, is the only time in her life that the wife is allowed such a privilege; henceforward she never sits down to a meal with her husband. Even at the nuptial feast, she eats what he leaves, unless she be too much of an infant to be sensible of the honour to which she has been exalted.

Upon the last days of the festival, the bridegroom offers the sacrifice of the Homan, the bride throwing parched instead of boiled rice into the fire. This is the only instance in which a woman takes part in that sacrifice, considered by the Hindoos the most sacred of all except that of the Yajna. These ceremonics being concluded, a procession is made through

* Dubois.

the streets of the town or village. It commonly takes place at night, the streets being brilliantly illuminated with innumerable torches, which gleam through the darkness with a dazzling but unnatural glare. The new married pair are seated in the same palankeen facing each other. They are magnificently arrayed in brocaded stuffs, and adorned with jewels presented to them by the fathers of each, and if their fathers are unable to do this, the gems are borrowed for the occasion. Before the palankeen marches a band of musicians, who drown every other sound in the braying of horns, the clamour of drums, pipes, and cymbals. As the procession moves onward, the friends and relatives of the bride and bridegrooin come out of their houses to express their congratulations as they pass, offering them various presents, for which, however, they expect a more than adequate return.

This ends the marriage solemnities.

The pomp which attends their elevation to this state shows the importance which they attach to it, and also the respect which they entertain, or at least once entertained, for those sacred bands which inseparably unite the husband and the wife †.

The wife, who, as I have already said, is generally an infant, always resides with her parents until she is of age to undertake the charge of her husband's domestic establishment. She quits the parental roof at nine or ten years of age, and is frequently a mother before she has completed her eleventh year.

+ Dubois.

J. H. C.

MUTUAL affection requires to be preserved by mutual en

but where there is a total neglect and indifference either to deavours to amuse, and to meet the wishes of each other; amuse or oblige, can it be wondered if affection, following the tendency of its nature, becomes indifferent, and sinks into mere civility ?-?

THE CITRON, THE LEMON, THE

ORANGE, &c.

THE tribe of trees to which these well-known, useful, and delicious fruits belong, contains numerous species; one author, not a modern one, notices eighteen of the Citron, eleven of the Lemon, and forty-four of the Orange; but the whole tribe are so intimately connected, that it is frequently difficult to decide to which of the three divisions many of the species ought to be ascribed. The three best known are the Citron (Citrus vulgare), the Lemon (Citrus medica), and the Orange (Citrus aurantium); the first of these is only known in Europe in the state of a preserve. But besides these, another species has latterly been brought into the market, namely, the Shaddock, which is frequently four times as large as most of its tribe.

Amid the innumerable variety of vegetables (says a French author,) which are spread by the hand of the Creator over the surface of the earth, there are none which can be compared with the Citron tribes, which unite all the most useful; noble and regular in their form, possessing the advantages of the most agreeable plants with those of perpetual verdure in their foliage, beauty of colour and of smell in their flowers, a deliciously flavoured fruit, whose elegant form is adorned with the colour of gold, everything, in fact, connected with these charming trees, is formed to delight the sight, to please the smell, and to gratify the

taste.

These good qualities naturally attracted great attention, so that, although indigenous to the tropics, as many as four species are now, not only naturalized in the warmer parts of Europe, but the fruit has become of very great moment as an article of commerce. The Orange, from the vast quantities that are imported,

immense:

The entries of oranges and lemons for home consumption in 1831 and 1832, amounted, at an average, to 270,606 boxes a year, and assuming each box to contain 700, the number entered for consumption will have been 189,424,000. The duty produced, at an average of the above years, £61,036

a year.

The Orange-tree never attains any great size, and may be more properly called a large evergreen shrub than a tree. It is not only considered an excellent addition to the dessert, but it is also used in medicine, particularly the Seville Orange, with a bitter rind. "The juice is a grateful acid liquor, which, by allaying thirst, &c., proves of considerable use in all febrile and inflammatory disorders." It is of great use in scorbutic complaints, and the outer rind of the Seville Orange is used as a stomachic. Many other medicinal virtues are also attributed to the various productions of the Orange-tree, the efficacy of which are, perhaps, not so well ascertained.

The Lemon-tree bears a great resemblance to that last mentioned, but the leaves are considerably larger, and differ in shape by wanting the wing-like appendages near the stem, which is found in the orangeleaf. The native country of the Lemon is the eastern parts of Asia, from whence it was brought to Greece, and afterwards to Italy; from thence it was transplanted to Spain, Portugal, and the south of France. The juice of this fruit has the same medical properties as that of the Orange, and in some cases is preferred, particularly as a sea-store:

The lemon-juice is frequently concentrated by means of cold; the watery parts, becoming frozen, are removed in the shape of ice, and the liquid that remains is of course increased in strength.

The Citron, which is very much larger than the Lemon, is only brought to this country as a sweetmeat; the juice has the same property as that of the Lemon: it was brought originally from the east of Asia.

The Lime, which is much smaller than the Citron, has the same properties, and is derived from the same part of the world; but it is cultivated not only in the south of Europe, but also in the West Indies and the warmer parts of America, where it is invariably found in a preserved state, forming a portion of the dessert. The beautiful scent called bergamot, is prepared from the rind of a small species of lime.

The Shaddock, as we have already said, is, at times, at least four times as large as the Orange, which it resembles in shape, but it differs much in size, and receives various names, according to the whim of the dealers; it is called Adam's Apple, the Forbidden Fruit, and Pomeroy.

The Shaddock was introduced into the West Indies by a Captain Shaddock, and thus received his name; the colour of the rind is that of a pale orange, and the flavour of the juice a sweetish acid, intermediate between that of the Orange and the Lemon, with rather a bitter taste.

Magazine.

THE romantic little village of Holy Cross lies in the barony of Eliogurthy, and county of Tipperary, in the south of Ireland, about seven miles north of the city of Cashel, and three south of the market-town of Thurles. It is very pleasantly situated in a retired valley on the banks of the beautiful river Suire; which, as it approaches the village, presents some very fine scenery. Two or three large flour-mills, standing out far into the water with their white-washed walls, have a fine effect from the old bridge, their busy wheels incessantly going, and reflected in the stream beneath. This river abounds with trout and salmon, of a large size and fine flavour. Just as the river approaches the village, it falls over a ridge of five or VOL. XI.

six feet, producing a good effect. The village itself is but small, much smaller, by all accounts, than in former times, when, it is said, a large town occupied the same site. If this be true, times are sadly altered; for all that now remains is the little village, consisting of about thirty or forty houses, most of them merely thatched cabins; with the exception, indeed, of the church and chapel, there is not, perhaps, a slated building in the whole place.

Just at the northern extremity of the village stands the celebrated ABBEY of HOLY CROSS, about which so much has been said, and so many extraordinary stories told, during a long succession of years. Most of these are, of course, the inventions or traditions of

325