the pinnacle of knowledge, not as the commanding height from which he may take a wider survey of its glorious domain, but as the pedestal on which he may elevate himself above his fellows. Which of these characters are we most inclined to respect and love?-British and Foreign Medical Review.

PROBLEM XXVI. White moving first, is to give

check-mate in four moves.

BLACK

LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE.

To the man who loves knowledge for its own sake, and for the sake of its beneficial influences on his race, what does it matter whether he alone has attained the elevation, or whether he shares it with others? The prospect below, around, and above him is the same. He has the same animating satisfaction in the review of difficulties overcome; -the same expansion of feeling as he surveys the extent of the domain beneath his feet;-the same delight in the glimpses he discovers of paths which may conduct him to new and yet more valuable acquirements. It is among those in whom the mere love of fame is the strongest,-who seek most eagerly for the applause, not so much of the master-spirits of the age, as of the world at large, and for the substantial advantages which that brings with it,-that we observe the keenest sensitiveness to detraction in regard to the value of their attainments, the greater disappointment if it can be proved that they have been at all anticipated in them. Such a seeker after truth can bear the

THE COTTAGE OF AN INDUSTRIOUS
PEASANT.

Is there a place, save one the poet sees,

A land of love, of liberty, of ease;

Where labour wearies not, nor cares suppress

Th' eternal flow of rustic happiness?

Behold the cot, where thrives th' industrious swain,

Source of his pride, his pleasure, and his gain :
Screen'd from the winter's wind, the sun's last ray
Smiles on the window, and prolongs the day.
Projecting thatch the woodbine's branches stop,
And turn their blossoms to the casement top.
All need requires is in that cot contain'd,
And much that taste, untaught and unrestrain'd,
Surveys delighted; there she loves to trace,
In one gay picture, all the royal race;
Around the walls are heroes, lovers, kings;
The print that shows them, and the verse that sings.
Here the last Lewis on his throne is seen,
And there he stands imprison'd, and his queen;
To these the mother takes her child, and shows,
What grateful duty to his God he owes;
Who gives to him a happy home, where he
Lives and enjoys his freedom with the free;
When kings and queens, dethron'd, insulted, tried,
Are all these blessings of the poor denied.

There is King Charles, and all his Golden Rules,
Who prov'd misfortune's was the best of schools;
And there his son, who, tried by years of pain
Prov'd that misfortunes may be sent in vain.
On shelf of deal beside the cuckoo-clock,
Of cottage-reading rests the chosen stock;
Learning we lack, not books, but have a kind
For all our wants, a meat for every mind;
No need of classing; each within its place,
The feeling finger in the dark can trace.
"First from the corner, farthest from the wall."
Such all the rules, and they suffice for all.

There pious works for Sunday's use are found, Companions for that Bible neatly bound. Bunyan's fam'd Pilgrim rests that shelf upon, A genius rare, but rude, was honest John. Of hermit Quarl we read, in island rare, Far from mankind, and seeming far from care; Safe from all want, and sound in every limb; Yes, there was he, and there was care with him! Unbound and heap'd, these valued books beside, Laid humbler works, the pedlar's pack supplied. These are the peasant's joy, where, plac'd at ease, Half his delighted offspring mount his knees. To every cot the lord's indulgent mind Has a small space for garden-ground assign'd; Here-till return of morn dismiss'd the farmThe careful peasant plies the sinewy arm, Warm'd as he works, and casts his look around, On every foot of that improving ground. It is his own he sees; his master's eye Peers not about, some secret fault to spy; Nor voice severe is there, nor censure known;Hope, profit, pleasure-they are all his own. Here grow the humble chives, and, hard by them, The leek, with crown globose and reedy stem; High climb his pulse, in many an even row, Deep strike the ponderous roots in soil below; And herbs of potent smell and pungent taste, Give a warm relish to the night's repast. Apples and cherries grafted by his hand, And cluster'd nuts for neighbouring market stand. Nor thus concludes his labour; near the cot, The reed-fence rises round some fav'rite spot, Where rich carnations, pinks with purple eyes, Proud hyacinths, the least some florist's prize, Tulips tall-stemm'd, and pounc'd auriculas rise. Here on a Sunday eve, when service ends, Meet and rejoice a family of friends;

}

All speak aloud, are happy and are free,
And glad they seem, and gaily they agree.

What, though fastidious ears may shun the speech,
Where all are talkers, and where none can teach;
Where still the welcome and the words are old,
And the same stories are for ever told:

Yet their's is joy, that, bursting from the heart, Prompts the glad tongue these nothings to impart; That forms these tones of gladness we despise, That lifts their steps, that gladdens in their eyes; That talks, or laughs, or runs, or shouts, or plays, And speaks in all their looks and all their ways.

CRABBE.

It is a fine spectacle to see a ship's company assembled at public worship. Every feeling mind must rejoice to see the deck of a large vessel covered with her crew, in the humble attitude of devotion: surrounded by the boundless ocean, the foundation of their august temple; and the cerulean expanse of heaven, its magnificent canopy! to see them in the midst of this unstable element, when separated from their friends, adoring the universal Friend and Father of the creation, who maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind; who raiseth the tempest; and saith to the raging waves, "Peace, be still."-FORBES' Oriental Memoirs.

THE application of heat to the various branches of the mechanical and chemical arts, has, within a few years, effected a greater change in the condition of man than had been accomplished in any equal period of his existence. Armed by the expansion and condensation of fluids, with a power equal to that of the lightning itself, conquering time and space, he flies over plains, and travels on paths cut by human industry, even through mountains, with a velocity and smoothness more like planetary than terrestrial motion; he crosses the deep in opposition to wind and tide; he makes the elements of air and water the carriers of warmth, not only to banish winter from his home, but to adorn it, even during the snow-storm, with the blossoms of spring; and, like a magician, he raises from the gloomy and deep abyss of the mine, the spirit of light to dispel the midnight

darkness.-SOMERVILLE.

It is certainly the design of nature that the animal part of our constitution should be subordinate to the intellectual, and that this again should receive law from our moral principles. Encyclopædia.

Ir good management and great regularity in the appropriation and employment of money really increase the wealth of individuals and states, the same must be the case with time and life. We augment them, we impart to them a virtue of reproduction and fecundity, we multiply their results, if we know how to allot and direct their various applications with regularity and method.-Art of Employing Time.

THE virtuous Sully, the friend and minister of Henry the Fourth of France, was not less economical of his time than

of the revenues of the state. We learn from his memoirs that he retired early to rest, that he slept little, that an invariable rule and order governed his occupations. In his attention to business he was indefatigable. He rose at four o'clock every morning. The first two hours were employed in reading and disposing of the papers that were laid upon his desk. This he termed sweeping the carpet. At seven he repaired to the council, and spent the rest of the forenoon with the king, who gave him his orders concerning the different departments over which he presided. He dined at

noon.

After dinner he gave audience, to which persons of all classes were admitted. The clergy of both persuasions were first heard. The farmers, and other persons of low condition, who are frequently afraid to approach a man high in office, and especially a prime minister, had their turn next. The great and noble were received last. He was afterwards usually engaged in business till supper-time: he then ordered the doors to be shut, and indulged in social pleasures with a select number of friends. Ten was his

regular hour for retiring to rest; but when any unexpected circumstance had deranged the ordinary course of his occupations, he made up the deficiency of the day by encroaching upon the night. Such was the kind of life which he invariably led during his administration.

THE KITCHEN GARDEN.

IV. APRIL.

Proud of his well-spread walls, he views his trees,
That meet, no barren interval between,
With pleasure more than e'en their fruits afford;
Which, save himself who trains them, none can feel.

THE blossoming of fruit-trees is one of the pleasant sights of April, but the gardener does not place full reliance on the early promise of the year, knowing how often a profusion of blossom is followed by a scantiness of fruit. With constant care he guards the choicer fruit trees from the action of the frost, at the same time losing no opportunity of admitting the warm sun and air, to forward their blossoms and fruit.

The first week of April is generally employed in sowing crops of such vegetables as are required in constant succession; it being a rule to sow a second crop as soon as the former one has made its appearance above ground. Thus, new sowings of beans, peas, and the different sorts of cabbage, will most likely be required, while the crops just appearing will require to be carefully preserved from slugs and snails; and when they are two or three inches high, must be carefully earthed up.

young

One of the most important of spring vegetables, and the most universally liked, is the pea; an early crop of peas is therefore considered of great consequence. Where hot-beds and other conveniences are at hand, the following method is sometimes adopted to secure an early crop. During the season from Christmas to the end of March, strips of turf are taken from a common, or meadow of short grass, and are cut to the required length, to suit a southern wall or fence, where the peas are ultimately to be planted out. Each turf may be three or four feet long, four or five inches broad, and two or three inches thick. The turfs are reversed, and an angular strip of soil cut out with a sharp knife along the middle of the earthy side. The groove thus formed is about an inch and a half deep. Early peas are then scattered pretty thickly along the groove, so that the seeds may nearly touch each other. The groove is then filled up with rich fine earth, which is pressed down till it becomes pretty firm; the turfs are then placed on a vinery floor, or in a hot-bed frame, the latter to be covered with lights, and also mats, if frost be severe. The peas thus protected from vermin and bad weather, and occasionally supplied with moisture, will vegetate more or less rapidly, according to the degree of heat applied. When they have attained the height of two or three inches, they are carefully transferred with the turf in which they are growing to the southern border designed for them; but if they have been greatly forced in a vinery at work, they are gradually transferred to the open air, by being placed in a vacant frame or greenhouse, for a few days. When they are ready to be removed to the border, it is desirable to dig a trench six inches wide and deep, and half fill it with maiden earth. This being saturated with water and left to settle for a day, is ready to receive the turfs which are laid down on the soil, and the peas are then earthed up and gently watered. Short branchy sticks are used to protect and support the peas as soon as they have risen

three inches above the new soil.

Peas as well as beans thrive better in long single rows than when set in plots of ground, row behind row. The soil best suited to this crop is one that is moderately rich, and without the addition of recent manure. The sorts of pea suitable for sowing in April are the imperial, blue Prussian, and marrow-fat; the first is a fine rich middle crops, the third is a fine bearer, and very rich in pea, the second is well known as a superior pea for the flavour. The large marrow-fats may be sown a full inch apart, the smaller sorts much closer. A pint of small peas is sufficient for a row of twenty yards, and the

same measure of the larger sorts is sufficient for thirtythree yards. The seed is inserted in drills, or by the dibble, in rows at a distance proportionate to the height to which the variety grows, as well as according to the

season.

The pea has been so long in cultivation that its origin is not known; but it is supposed to have been introduced from the warmer parts of Europe, where it may have been received from Egypt and Syria. It is known in India, China, and Japan: the soil and climate of the last-named country being more favourable to its habits than those of the two former. It does not thrive in dry and burning regions, neither is it able to endure severe weather. In our own country this crop has been extensively cultivated from an early period. In 1299, when the English forces were besieging a castle in Lothian, it is recorded that their supply of provisions being exhausted, their only resource was in the peas and beans of the surrounding fields. Yet the more delicate varieties of this vegetable were long considered as dainties. Fuller states that in the time of Elizabeth peas were brought from Holland, and were "fit dainties for ladies, they came so far, and cost so dear." In the reign of Henry the Eighth, some of the rarer English sorts were also purchased at a high rate. Among the privy purse expenses of the king is an entry "paied to a man in rewarde for bringing pescodds to the king's grace, four shillings and eight-pence." Yet in a song of the time of Henry the Sixth, peascods are spoken of as if they

were common:

Then unto London I dyde me hye; Of all the land it bearyth the pryse "Gode pescode," one began to cry. Probably the common pea was cultivated extensively when the more delicate varieties then known were extremely rare, which may account for the different statements on the subject.

A street in the town of Windsor is called "Peascod" in all old documents, from the former name of this vegetable. The Latin name of the pea (pisum), is supposed to be derived from Pisa, (a town of Elis,) where peas anciently grew in great plenty. The English name is a corruption from the Latin, and old English authors wrote it peason, which comes very near to the sound of the Latin name. The omission of the last two letters leaves the name of peas.

The principal varieties of the common pea are the white or yellow, and the grey. Soil and culture appear to have produced the chief differences. The choicer sorts of peas, known as garden peas, are raised with care for the purpose of being eaten green; field peas are inferior, chiefly on account of the manner of their being raised: these are allowed to come to maturity. The varieties among garden peas are too numerous to be particularized; they consist of early and late sorts, the early being slender of growth and less abundant in the crop, but more capable of resisting the cold, than the late sorts; while the latter bear larger pods, and are more rich and saccharine. One variety, (the sugar-pea,) is sometimes cooked with the pods entire. From the Vegetable Cultivator we learn, that a favourite and fashionable dish was made some fifty years ago of these peas, the young pods being merely stripped at the outside edges. Those persons who still use them in this way, place them in a stewpan with some good gravy, thickened with flour and butter, with a little mace, ginger, and nutmeg, and allow them to stew gently till the pods are quite tender. The sugar-pea is the only variety that admits of being cooked in this manner, not having a tough coating inside the pod.

The pea vegetates so rapidly, that there have been instances of a crop obtained from seed matured the same season. In dry seasons, peas require to be watered during the time of their flowering and fruiting; but this should be done as much as possible without watering the

leaves of the plants. Failures frequently occur in the earliest crops, owing to the attacks of mice, or some other cause. These failures are supplied by transplanting, which is best performed in March or early in April, and the plants require watering, and if the weather is warm, shading from the sun.

During the first week in April, the silver onion is sown for drawing young, and the Spanish for the main crop. The onion is one of the most important of the flavouring ingredients used in cookery, but does not afford much nutriment. This vegetable has been used by all classes, and by most nations, from a very early period. While to the lower orders, especially in the northern parts of the kingdom, it is almost indispensable as an accompaniment to their simple meals, and is nearly always eaten in its crude state; it is also employed in the refined entertainments of the great, and imparts a savoury and delicious taste to many of the best dishes. Among the peasantry, little inconvenience seems to arise from the use of it in a raw state, but it is generally considered that onions raised in our northern climate, are extremely indigestible, unless subjected to the processes of cookery; and, therefore, those who fear the result of indulging a taste for uncooked onions, generally select the milder produce of Spain and Portugal, which are imported into this country, and commonly sold in our shops, and which may be eaten in their crude state with greater impunity.

The great antiquity of this vegetable is proved by the mention made of it in the Sacred Scriptures, where we find that one of the subjects of regret among the children of Israel, on leaving Egypt, was the loss of this favourite addition to their food. The onion is still in esteem among the Egyptians, and so favourable is the climate to its production, that it is much more of a delicacy than it can be considered elsewhere. Hasselquist says, that whoever has proved the exquisite flavour of the onions of Egypt, must acknowledge that none can be better in any part of the world, for there they are mild and pleasant to the palate, while in other countries they are strong and nauseous; there they are soft and yielding, while in northern countries they are hard, and their coats so compact, as to render them less easy of digestion. The Egyptians cut them into four parts, and eat them roasted with pieces of meat; and so fond are they of this dish, that they are said devoutly to wish that it may form one of the viands of Paradise. The same traveller remarks, that a soup made of these onions, was the most delicious of which he ever partook.

The onion is raised from seed, which is sown at intervals from February to August. Main crops are sown in March; sometimes as late as the beginning of April, when the sowing for salad onions is also made. The seed is sown thinly, broadcast, and regularly raked in. An ounce of seed is sufficient for a rood of ground, especially for the main crops, as they should never be allowed to grow to a size fit for salads without thinning. The beds are divided by narrow alleys into portions about four feet wide, for the convenience of cultivation. The great obstacle to the production of fine onions in this country is the want of a continuance of warm weather. A practice has therefore been recently introduced, which is intended to remove the difficulty. A crop of onions is sown in May, and cultivated as in the other crops. In October, the bulbs being of the size of nuts, are taken up, dried, and housed, until about the middle or latter end of the following March, when they are planted at equal distances from each other, and affor plants, differing from those raised immediately from seed only from possessing much greater strength and vigour, owing to the quantity of previously generated sap being much greater in the bulb than in the seed. The bulbs thus raised are often more than five inches in diameter, and keep better through the succeeding winter than those raised from seed.