the following morning the wind was again at rest, but the ship lay upon the yet heaving waves, an unsightly wreck."

The marine barometer differs from that used on shore, in having its tube contracted in one place to a very narrow bore, so as to prevent that sudden rising and falling of the mercury which every motion of the ship would else occasion.

Civilized Europe is now familiar with the barometer and its uses, and, therefore, that Europeans may conceive the first feelings connected with it, they almost require to witness the astonishment or incredulity with which people of other parts regard it. A Chinese once conversing on the subject, could only imagine of the barometer that it was a gift of a miraculous nature, which the God of the Christians had given them in pity, to direct them in the long and perilous voyages which they undertook to unknown

seas.

A curious result of the lessening of atmospheric pressure is seen in the difficulty which travellers experience in cooking victuals on high mountains. Meat cannot be cooked by the common method; the reason being, that the boiling water is not hot enough. The pressure of the air being less, the water more quickly rises into vapour, and the heat is thus carried off and the meat left uncooked.

ever.

Darwin relates a humorous anecdote of this nature. He was travelling in the Andes. "Our potatoes," says he, "after remaining for some hours in the boiling water, were nearly as hard as The pot was left on the fire all night, and next morning it was boiled again, but yet the potatoes were not cooked. I found out this by overhearing my two companions discussing the cause. They had come to the conclusion that the potatoes were bewitched, or that the pot, which was a new one, did not choose to boil them!"

THE CLOUD.

I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noon-day dreams;

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet birds every one,

When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.

I wield the flail of the lashing hail,

And whiten the green plains under;

And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.

I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,

While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;

In a cavern under is fettered the thunder-
It struggles and howls by fits;

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,

Lured by the love of the genii' that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,

Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The spirit he loves remains;

And I, all the while, bask in heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,

Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,

When the morning-star shines dead;

As on the jag of a mountain crag,

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle, alit, one moment may sit,

In the light of its golden wings.

And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardours of rest and love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of heaven above,

With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest,
As still as a brooding dove.

That orbed maiden, with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,

Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn ;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer!

And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,

Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.

I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the moon's with a girdle of pearl;

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
When the whirlwind my banners unfurl.

From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,

Sun-beam proof, I hang like a roof,

The mountains its columns be.

The triumphal arch through which I march
With hurricane, fire, and snow,

When the powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-coloured bow;

The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,

While the moist earth was laughing below.

I am the daughter of earth and water,

And the nursling of the sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.

For, after the rain, when, with never a stain,
The pavilion of heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams,

Build up the blue dome of air,

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the

tomb,

I rise and upbuild it again.

SHELLEY.

THE EVENING CLOUD.

A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun;
A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow;
Long had I watched the glory moving on,
O'er the still radiance of the lake below.
Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow,-
E'en in its very motion there was rest;
While every breath of eve that chanced to blow
Wafted the trav'ller to the beauteous west:-
Emblem, methought, of the departed soul,

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given;

And, by the breath of Mercy, made to roll
Right onward to the golden gates of heaven;
Where, to the eye of faith, it peaceful lies,
And tells to man his glorious destinies.

WILSON.

"ABOVE THE CLOUDS."

IN our climate the level at which clouds are formed is ever changing; but in the regions near the equator atmospheric phenomena assume a more regular character, under the influence of a vertical sun. These regions are, therefore, much more favourable than ours for astronomical observations. Amongst astronomers the desire to get "above the clouds" had long been a fond speculation. In 1856, an attempt was made, under the auspices of the British Government, to commence a series of observations in some elevated region, where the serene and quiet air would be specially favourable for viewing the heavenly bodies. The island of Teneriffe was selected for this purpose, as combining more of the required advantages than any other mountain within easy reach of Europe. The expedition was under the direction of Professor Piazzi Smyth, the distinguished astronomer at Edinburgh, who, in a remarkable and interesting work, has since published a narrative of the expedition. In an article contributed to a popular magazine he thus graphically describes the ascent of Teneriffe to a point high "above the clouds:

It was only a few days after-on a morning also cloudy, and with north-east cloud too-that the little party set forth from the town of Orotava, on the northern coast of Teneriffe, to climb the great mountain, and put to the only true test of actual practice their hopes of getting "above the clouds." Through long-winding stony pathways, between vineyards and cactus plantations, between orange groves and fig trees they proceeded, always ascending; past gardens, and then past orchards, still ever ascending; past corn fields and oat fields, ascending yet higher; and then amongst