FRESH-WATER FISH.

The gothic arches connecting the round with the oblong portion of the building were filled up with an oak screen' and glass windows and doors, and with an organ-gallery, adorned with Corinthian columns and pilasters and Grecian ornaments. The eastern end had an enormous altarpiece in the classic style, decorated with Corinthian columns and Grecian cornices and entablatures. A huge pulpit and sounding-board were erected in the middle of the nave, forming a great obstruction to the view of the interior of the building. All these additions, together with the numerous mural monuments which disfigured all the columns and walls, have been recently removed, the marble columns and tessellated pavement restored, and the venerable structure brought back to its ancient appearance.

The most interesting portion of the church, called by ancient writers simply "the Round," was consecrated A.D. 1185, by Heraclius, patriarch of Jerusalem, on his arrival in England to obtain succour from Henry II. against the power of the famous Saladin. The oblong portion was consecrated on Ascension Day, 1240. As there was thus a considerable difference in the time of erection of the two portions, there is also observable a great variation in style.

These two portions of the church, (says Mr. Addison,) when compared together, present features of peculiar interest to the architect and the antiquary. The oblong portion of the venerable fabric affords perhaps the first specimen of the complete conquest of the pointed style over the massive circular or Norman architecture which preceded its erection, while the Round displays the different changes which the latter style underwent previous to its final sub

version.

The entrance to the Temple Church is by a semicircular arched doorway, deeply recessed and ornamented on either side; forming an exquisite specimen of the Norman style of architecture. From this beautiful doorway we enter the circular part of the building, which surpasses in elegance and beauty any description that can be given of it. Mr. Addison's excellent description will give our readers the best idea of the architectural effect, but the edifice must be seen to be in any wise appreciated. From the centre of the Round, the eye is carried upward to the vaulted ceiling of the inner circular tower with its groined ribs and carved bosses. This tower rests on six clustered marble columns, from whence spring six pointed arches enriched with numerous mouldings. The clustered columns are composed of four marble shafts, surmounted by foliated capitals, which are each of a different pattern, but correspond in the general outline, and display great character and beauty. These shafts are connected together by bands at their centres; and the bases and capitals run into each other, so as to form the whole into one column. Immediately above the arches, resting on these columns, is a small band or cornice, which extends round the interior of the tower, and supports a most elegant arcade of interlaced arches. This arcade is formed of numerous small Purbeck marble columns, enriched with ornamented bases and capitals, from whence spring a series of arches which intersect one another, and produce a most pleasing and striking combination of the round and pointed arch. Above this elegant arcade is another cornice, surmounted by six circular-headed windows pierced at equal intervals through the thick walls of the tower. These windows are ornamented at the angles with small columns, and in the time of the Knights Templars they were filled with stained glass. Between each window is a long slender circular shaft of Purbeck-marble, which springs from the clustered columns, and terminates in a bold foliated capital, whereon rest the groined ribs of the ceiling of the tower.

We reserve the remainder of our description for a second notice of the Temple Church.

THE ROACH, (Leuciscus rutilus.)

Now that the summer season has called into life and activity the finny inhabitants of our fresh waters, we resume our remarks on the more important members of the great family Cyprinidæ, of which the carp is the type. The carp family is the first of the five families into which Cuvier divides his second order of soft-finned fishes, or those which have abdominal fins, that is, which have the ventral fins attached to the abdomen behind the pectorals, and unconnected with the bone of the shoulder.

The roach, the dace, and the bleak, are familiar examples of the genus Leuciscus, of which the species are distinguished from those of the carp tribe by the comparative shortness of the dorsal and anal fins, the absence of strong spiny rays at the commencement of either, the simple lips, and the want of barbules about the mouth.

The roach is a handsome fish; the colour of the back and upper part of the head is bluish green or dusky green, becoming lighter on the sides of the body, and shaded into silvery white on the belly. The dorsal and caudal fins are dusky, tinged with red; the anal, pectoral, and ventral fins are bright red; the eyes are large, the circle of which resembles gold, and the irides are red. The roach is deep, but thin, and the back elevated; the scales are large and easily fall off; the lateral line bends much on the middle towards the belly, and the tail is a little forked. Walton's description is characteristic of that amusing writer:

Some say the roach is so called from rutilus, which they say signifies red fins. He is a fish of no great reputation for his dainty taste; fand his 'spawn is accounted much better than any part of him. And you may take notice, that as the carp is accounted the water-fox for his cunning; so the roach is accounted the water-sheep for his simplicity or foolishness.

This unfavourable character, however, does not seem to be proven by observation. When confined in close situations, such as small ponds, the roach is ready to take almost any bait; but when allowed the unrestrained enjoyment of a wide range, this fish, in common with most other animals, has its intelligence sharpened by its freedom. In proportion as animals are domesticated, and their wants provided for, do they lose those habits of watchfulness and activity which are necessary to secure them against numerous enemies, and to obtain due supplies of food. The observations of naturalists on the habits of animals, when in a state of domestication or confinement, must therefore be received with caution. Mr. Blaine relates a remarkable instance of the sagacity of

ago these were overflowed by an eruption of the sea, and

1842.]

the quantity of roach destroyed was such, that the dead were taken away, it is said in two wagons, as well for manure as to prevent the injurious effects of their decay. A few years ago it was proposed to drag one of the largest of these pools, which although very long was so narrow that a large net would reach completely across it. The quantity of roach seemed abundant; the net was of extraordinary dimensions and great value, being formed entirely of silk. The news of this operation attracted a vast body of spectators and assistants. Several hours were occupied in making the necessary preparations, and seldom had there been more interest or activity displayed than was exhibited by all parties to prevent the escape of the roach either above, below, or at the sides of the pool; and so varied were the means made use of, and so completely did this extensive and fine net cover every inch of the water, that it was thought impossible that a single fish hardly should escape. After more than three hours had been thus taken up, the end of the water was reached, and preparations were made to haul out. Expectation was now at its height: the net was landed, and instead of cart-loads of fish, some eight or ten roach were all that had been caught; and yet the next day the water provokingly exhibited its multitudes as before. Mr. Blaine remarks:

As this marsh was very strictly preserved, and in fact we believe a line did not get wetted there once a year, the fish could not have become artful by persecution. Theirs must have been instinctive cunning employed in self-preservation: and it was the general opinion of those competent to judge, that finding themselves thus closely beset, one part had forced themselves within the interstices in the banks made by the willows and alder stumps, which were very numerous, and that the others had, like carp, simultaneously plunged themselves into the mud below, which was some feet deep.

Roach are abundant in most rivers of the temperate parts of Europe. In England they prefer streams of slow course, frequenting the deepest parts by day, and by night feeding on the shallows. About the end of May, according to Mr. Yarrell, vast shoals come up to Loch Lomond, and are caught in nets by thousands. It was once supposed that they came up in shoals from the sea to deposit their spawn in the highest parts of the river, but most probably they come from the direction only in which the sea lies, and not from the sea itself. Montagu gives the following fact from his own observation. In a small river that runs into a large piece of water, nearly two miles in extent, close to the sea, on the south coast of Devon, there is no outlet but by means of percolation through the shingle that forms the barrier between it and the sea: in this situation roach thrive and multiply beyond all example. Some years ago, the sea broke its boundary, and flowed copi. ously into the lake at every tide for a considerable time, by which every species of fish was destroyed.

The habits of this fish are gregarious, swimming constantly in large shoals. They feed on worms and herbs. They spawn about the end of May, and then the scales become rough to the touch, feeling like the external surface of an oyster-shell: hence it may be known when the fish is out of season. It is, however, held in small estimation for the table, but is best for food and finest in colour in October, a state produced probably by the variety as well as quantity of nutriment obtained during a long summer.

"As sound as a roach," is a saying that does not carry with it the degree of conviction that usually attaches to a popular apophthegm. Mr. Yarrell says that in old ichthyological works the fish is called roche, a word probably derived from the French word for rock. Hence the meaning stands confessed, if we admit a pun on the word, and say "as sound as a rock."

The Dace, or as it is sometimes called the Dare or Dart, is somewhat allied with the roach in habits and appear

THE DACE, (Leaciscus vulgaris.)

THE ECLIPSE OF THE SUN.
JULY 8, 1842.

'Tis morn! and, through the silent air, the Earth
Its wide circumference, revolving, rolls
In its huge wandering, noiseless; ponderous,
Yet lightsome as the Summer's fleecy cloud.
Save where the dark Antipodes repose,
From highest summits the rock-tenants catch
The earliest promise of the balmy day,
While the great centre of our light and life,
In bright eternity sublimely fixed,
Receives the homage of the wakened world,
In orisons, and hymns, and songs of birds.
When, lo! a mighty shadow from afar,
Cast from the opaque moon, unwonted task,
With solemn motion spreading, such as fits
Things vast, and wonders of the Eternal's works,
Comes dismally, and checks the struggling beam,
From burning Zaara's margin to the verge
Of dreary Iceland; sullen and depressed
All Nature droops beneath the wondrous charm.
Now Superstition clanks her fearful chain
Amidst her gathered slaves. These, yet untaught,
With feeble clangor mock the mighty scene,
And trembling ask their fate; but, happy those
Whom Science rules, and Truth's eternal law,
From lips of wise Copernicus, or traced
By Galileo on a dungeon's wall:
They, conscious, view with admiration,
Hailing the wise prediction with mute joy;
Nor fear, but humbly testify the power
Of the Omnipotent, who made the spheres
Obedient to creation. As I write, they pass !
And I am silent pondering the Eclipse.

F. R.

THERE is no other foundation for good morals than correct religious principles.-ELLIS.

As in geometry, of all lines or surfaces contained within the same bounds, the straight line and the plain surface are the shortest; so it is also in morality: by the right line of justice, upon the plain ground of virtue, a man soonest will arrive to any well-chosen end.-BARROW.

PRODUCE OF A GRAIN OF WHEAT. AMONG the encouragements held out to our cottagers to aim at the successful cultivation of the more valuable products of the vegetable world, we notice with pleasure a benevolent effort communicated to us by Mrs. Gilbert, of East Bourn, Sussex, who, for many years past has offered a premium of a penny, three-halfpence, and two pence an ear for the greatest number of ears of wheat grown from one grain. These premiums are paid, on the plant being produced complete at the Battle and Hastings Horticultural Show. Last year they were gained by James Saxby, for a plant producing eighty seven ears; by Henry Penfield for one having ninetyseven ears; and by John White for another which bore one hundred and ten ears. Mrs. Gilbert's own gardener also succeeded in producing from one grain, a plant with a hundred and twenty ears. This plant was taken up by Dr. Daubeny, and exhibited at his lectures in Oxford.

The average produce of wheat per acre in this country is stated, by the best authorities, to be twenty-six bushels, which, supposing it to be sown broadcast, three bushels to the acre, in the usual manner, does not give a return of ninefold the quantity of seed. Whereas, Mrs. Gilbert gives us an account of the produce of a grain of wheat, planted on 22nd July, 1840, the shoots divided into fourteen plants on the 11th of September, and subdivided into fifty-six plants on the 1st of December, and again divided, April 28th, into two hundred and fifty-two plants, which in September, 1841, had 3105 fine ears, and yielded 70,206 grains, which weighed six pounds nine ounces, that is, nearly a gallon of clean wheat. And even this favourable result was formerly exceeded by Mr. Miller, of Cambridge, who, as it is recorded in the Philosophical Transactions, sowed on the 2nd of June, a few grains of common red wheat, one of the plants from which had tillered so much, that on the 8th of August, he was enabled to divide it into eighteen plants, all of which were placed separately in the ground. In the course of September and October so many of these plants had again multiplied their stalks, that the number of plants which were separately set out to stand the Winter was sixty-seven. With the first growth of the Spring, the tillering went forward, so that at the end of March and beginning of April a farther division was made, and the number of plants now amounted to five hundred. Mr. Miller expressed his opinion that before the season had too far advanced, one other division might have been effected, when the number might have been at least quadrupled. The five hundred plants proved extremely vigorous, much more so than wheat under ordinary culture; so that the number of ears submitted to the sickle was 21,109, or more than forty to each of the divided plants; in some instances there were one hundred ears upon one plant. The ears were remarkably fine, some being six or seven inches long, and containing from sixty to seventy grains. The wheat, when separated from the straw, weighed forty-seven pounds and seven ounces, and measured three pecks and three quarters, the estimated number of grains being 576,840.

These excellent results have been obtained by dibbling the grain three inches into the ground, and doubtless afford much encouragement to extend a practice which, as Mrs. Gilbert justly remarks, protects the seed from birds and frost, and causes the production of " a good

root, of fine stiff straw, together with a full ear, and a general hardihood of the plant which enables it to resist wind and rain.' On the stiffer description of soil, dibbling is not found to answer so well as in light land, for the dibble forms little cups in which the rain is apt to lodge, to the injury, if not to the destruction, of the seed. The dibble is an instrument about three feet long, all iron except the handle. In using it, the labourer walks backwards with one in each hand, and makes from 3000 to 3050 holes in a day, giving a slight twist with the wrist at the moment of plunging the iron into the

ground, which makes a hole that does not again fill up by the crumbling of the soil. Children follow after the dibbler, and drop about three grains into each hole. We are told that dibbling costs in Hertfordshire only six shillings per acre, and in Norfolk and Suffolk from seven to ten shillings per acre, according to the distance of the holes, but where they are thickest, and three or four grains placed in each hole, it does not use more than two bushels of seed per acre.

A writer in the Mark Lane Express says that dibbling has been upon the decline in the county of Suffolk for the last twenty years, but he believes it to be chiefly because it is attended with more trouble than drilling. He informs us that he has continued the practice himself ever since the year 1807, and for the following excellent reasons:-1st. It encourages the poor man and his family by increasing his wages, and gives employment to his children, which they would not have if wheat was drilled. 2nd. It shows the children when young, that they are ordained by Providence to get their bread by the sweat of their brow. 3rd. In dibbling, men and children tread the land with their feet which makes the soil firmer and better for the crop. 4th. The land is more easily cleaned, for while in drilled wheat you can only hoe between the rows, in the dibbled you can hoe all round the plant. 5th. The seed goes farther into the ground from dibbling than drilling, the small end piercing deeper than it appears, while the drill appears deeper than it really is, the coulter of the drill raising mould on each side, so that when harrowed, the corn is not so deep as when dibbled. 6th. There is always more undercorn, that is, small ears, from the drill than from the dibble, and dibbling takes less seed. The above reasons appear quite sufficient to justify the commendations bestowed on this practice by the writer in question, who also states her conviction that dibbled wheat will generally be found the most productive, and will stand up better against wind and rain.

VOYAGING IN SICILY.

RURAL ECONOMY FOR THE MONTHS.

SEPTEMBER.

Meanwhile to glad September's dawn
Together hath mild Autumn drawn
Rich gifts from bounteous nature's stores;
And still about his footsteps pours
Profusely from the copious horn
Fruits well-matured and yellow corn.

Now to the corn-field, ye whose hands
The unfinished Harvest still demands!
While still the season mild allows
Unharmed the ripened grain to house,
And earlier nights and shorter days
Prohibit yet prolonged delays;
Speed forth incessant to complete
The gathering of the golden wheat;
Or if the oat his pendents rear
O'er arched; or barley's bristling ear
Still standing crave your care to stow
Its treasures in the swelling mow.

MANT'S British Months.

THE clear bright weather which frequently prevails during the early part of September is admirably suited for the occupations of the month, which consist chiefly in gathering up the remainder of the harvest, and in storing for winter use the various fruits of the fields and orchards. While several of the crops, such as potatoes, mangel-wurzel, turnips, &c., still remain on the ground, the harvesting of all kinds of grain is, in ordinary seasons, quite completed by the end of the month, and the face of the country in arable districts presents that wide and almost universal blank, so strongly indicative of the approach of winter. But in the present state of agriculture, there is such active and constant employment of the soil, that our fields are soon again enlivened with the ploughman's labours, and preparations are thus made for a new succession of crops, before we have entirely lost the impression of the scene of plenty so lately spread out to our view.

An important crop usually gathered in during this month, is the bean crop, which, though containing a large proportion of nutritious matter, does not exhaust the soil to the extent that might be expected. The succulent nature of the plant causes it to absorb much of its nourishment from the atmosphere, so that, perhaps, no other seed-bearing crop gives so large a return with so small an expenditure of the nutritive juices of the soil. As a general rule, this crop is left too long in the field, and both the bean straw and the grain are deteriorated in value thereby. But it is difficult at this busy season so to proportion the work as that each crop shall receive attention precisely at the proper time.

When the leaves lose their colour and the pods of the beans begin to turn black, the crop is in a fit state to be harvested. It is either reaped with the sickle, or, if the haulm is short, as in the long-pod and mazagan, it is pulled up by the roots, when it is made into small sheaves tied with straw bands or tarred twine, and set up in the field to dry. Several communications have been made to the Board of Agriculture at different periods, as to the superior advantages resulting from the early cutting of the bean crop. The straw is reckoned to be of triple value, compared with that which stands till the leaves fall off; the grain greatly superior to that which has been bleached by the weather for weeks; and in addition to these advantages the farmer has the opportunity of giving his land two or three ploughings, harrowings, &c., if necessary, previous to putting in his wheat crop. The growth of beans in England has considerably diminished of late years, a large portion of the consumption of both beans and peas being supplied from Denmark, Prussia, Germany, the Netherlands, France, Italy, and Malta; yet it is the opinion of the best agriculturists, that this crop is one of the finest preparations for wheat, and should enter into the rotation of crops wherever the soil will admit of it.

Whilst the various kinds of pulse are occupying the attention of the farmer, a busy scene is going on in the

hop-growing districts; thus pleasingly alluded to by Bishop Mant.

For now where Farnham's mitred keep
Sees chalky Wey beneath it creep,
Slow stealing through the fertile fields
Of Surrey; or the shady wealds
Of Sussex, and her fruitful vales
Court wooingly the southern gales;
Or where far off by Severn stream
With frequent points ascending gleam,
And crowned with many a glistening vane,
The pinnacles of Worcester's fane;
Or where through undulating Kent,
Glides the smooth Medway to present
The tribute of her gentle tide
To swell imperial Thames's pride;
Or where yon venerable pile,

O'er windowed nave and buttressed aisle,
Lifts his embattled tower on high,
As if with conscious majesty,
That his the boast within to own
Fair England's hierarchal throne:
Of old and young a mingled train,
The village maid, the village swain,
The hop-ground seek: unfix, and lay
In prostrate rows the frequent stay,
Round which aspiring, like the vine's
Lithe tendrils, creeps and climbs and twines,
With many a scaly pendent drop,

Our British vine, the twisted Hop.

Although most of the hop-growers are also extensively engaged in other departments of agriculture, yet the peculiar value of this crop, and its precarious nature, render it an object of main importance, and demand for it, at this season in particular, the especial care of the husbandman. If the season is favourable, hop-picking commences in the latter part of August, but September is the regular season, and sometimes the month closes before the business of the gathering is over.

Compared with most other departments of rural industry, hop-picking is light work, and gives employment to women and children, as well as to men. Accordingly we find that the hop season is eagerly anticipated among the lower orders of those districts where this crop is cultivated, and that it is regarded almost in the light of an universal holiday. It is of so much importance to the cultivator that fair weather should be made the most of, and that no opportunity of getting the hops secured in a good condition should be heedlessly neglected, that he calls out nearly the whole rnral population to assist him, and both old and young have thus the means of earning a little money in an easy way. It is a merry time when the poor families assemble in the hop-gardens. Baskets, sacks, and hop-bins, have been previously put in readiness by the farmer. Hop-bins are usually formed of upright stakes driven into the ground, upon the forked tops of which are placed horizontal poles, about two feet apart. A coarse cloth is hung upon these poles, and thus a tempo-, rary place of deposit is formed, as near as possible to the place where the hops are growing. Round these bins the pickers assemble resting the poles with the hop plants twining round them against the sides of the bins, and carefully removing all the hops without gathering with them any of the leaves or stalks. Of course there are various departments in the task of hoppicking. Some are engaged in cutting off the growing bines or stalks near the roots, and then lifting the poles with the plants round them from the ground. Others take these poles in wagons to the place where the pickers are assembled; others again receive the poles from the pickers, and prepare them for being carted away and stacked for future use. The progress of the hop-pickers is always superintended by some person in authority, who measures out the contents of the bins, as they become full, puts the hops in sacks, and sends them away to the oast-house, as it is called, where they are dried and packed for sale.

It is somewhat remarkable that no agreement is made with the hop-pickers respecting the rate of wages they are to receive, until the season is considerably advanced and the growers have had an opportunity of consulting together on the subject, and ascertaining in some measure the sort of return they may expect from their crop. But as the price generally fixed on does not often fall below that of the usual rate of harvest work, the hop-pickers have no reason to complain.

It is during the busy month of September also, that in the fruitful vales of Devonshire, and the fertile districts of Hereford,

From trees with golden splendour deckt
And beauty's roseate blush, collect
The swains in baskets heaped on high
The autumnal orchard's rich supply.
Still richer, where their nectarous juice
The Redstreak's pulpy fruits produce;
The Redstreak, long the boast and pride
Of Hereford.

That which is generally spoken of as the Devonshire cider-district includes portions of Dorsetshire, Somersetshire, and Cornwall, while the Hereford district may also be said to include the cider districts of Gloucestershire, Monmouthshire, and Worcestershire. In the former of these, i.e. the Devonshire district, the orchards are mostly shelving banks or hollow dells in the vicinity of the farm-houses, where the trees are sheltered from the wind, and where a great produce is frequently obtained, but where the land becomes so overrun with weeds that it is not of much value to the owner except for the single purpose of the apple crop. Sometimes these luxuriant weeds are cropped, and heaped up round the tree to serve as manure; but, besides this, there is very little attention paid to the trees, and they are suffered, in most cases, to go on from year to year, without that degree of care, judicious pruning, cleansing from moss, &c., which the valuable nature of the crop, and the benefits derived from such attentions, where they are practised, might lead one to expect.

The choice of orchard ground in the Hereford district, depends rather on the nature of the soil, than on the position of the farm-house. While the trees are young the land is under ordinary management, and the frequent ploughings and stirrings of the soil round their roots is highly beneficial. Agreeably with this method, Mr. Marshall, in his Rural Economy of Gloucestershire, recommends that apple-trees should be planted upon a recently broken-up sward; that the soil should be kept under a state of arable management until the trees be well grown, then laid down to grass, remaining in sward until the trees be removed and their roots decayed, when it should again be subjected to a course of arable management.

The varieties of apple cultivated in the Hereford district are more numerous than in any other part of England, and in that district it is customary to insert the grafts about six feet from the ground, and to plant the trees in rows which are about sixty-six feet apart, while the trees in the rows are about thirty-six feet distant from each other. This is where the soil is rich, and the trees are expected to spread well and vigorously. In Devonshire the grafts are inserted at three or four feet from the ground and the trees planted about sixteen feet apart.

The practice of "poulting," or beating down the apples with poles, is very injurious to the young wood of the tree, and it is far better to collect at intervals, where it is practicable, such as can be shaken from the branches, without having recourse to this violent method. Apples intended for cider are collected in heaps according to their varieties, and are allowed to remain for a month or six weeks until they become mellow. The rude machinery by which cider is manufactured is then much in request. The process of cider-making as it is carried on in the Hereford district, and which differs in some

trivial points from that employed in Devonshire, is thus described by a modern writer:

The apples are thrown into a circular stone trough, usually about eighteen feet in diameter, called the chase, round which the runner, a heavy circular stone, is turned by one or sometimes two horses. When the fruit has been ground until the rind and the core are so completely reduced that a handful of "must" when squeezed will all pass without lumps between the fingers, and the maker sees from the white spots that are in it that the pips have been broken, a square horse-hair cloth is spread under a screw press, and some of the must is poured from pails upon the hair, the edges and corners of which are folded inwards so as to prevent its escape. Ten or twelve of these hairs are piled and filled one upon the other, and then surmounted with a frame of thick boards. Upon this the screw is slowly worked down by a lever; and with the pressure a thick brown juice exudes from the hairs, leaving within them only a dry residue, which, in years when apples are scarce, is mixed with water, ground again, and the liquid pressed out as before. This latter product is called "water cider," early in the year. The cider is received by a channel in a thin unpalatable liquor, which is given to the labourers the frame of the press, upon which the hairs stand, emptying into a flat tub called a "tun." From the tun it is poured with buckets or racking cans into casks, placed either out of doors, or in sheds where there is a free current of air. In about three or four days, more or less according to the heat of the weather, the liquor usually will ferment; the thick heavier parts will subside as a sediment at the bottom of the should then be racked or drawn off into another cask, and cask, and the lighter become bright clear cider. This the sediment be put to strain through linen bags.

Experience must teach the cider manufacturer, what sorts of apples should be ground together, and what proportions of each will be likely to produce the desired flavour. Considerable difficulty sometimes occurs in preserving the strength and valuable properties of the cider; a common evil being rapidity of fermentation, which leaves the liquor sour and unpalatable. When the fermentation appears to be going on too fast, the best way of checking it is to rack off the liquor into another cask, without the least delay. This remedy may be repeated if necessary two or three times.

་

The close of the month of September generally brings with it storms and equinoctial gales, that fast strew the earth with leaves and branches, perhaps yet unwithered, but torn by the violence of the wind. These autumn tempests are described in Bloomfield's Farmer's Boy, with much truth and beauty, and he thus alludes to the satisfaction of the farmer, who, startled from his sleep by the storm, composes himself again to repose with the recollection that Harvest is over.

Where now's the trifler? where the child of pride? These are the moments when the heart is tried! Nor lives the man, with conscience e'er so clear, But feels a solemn, reverential fear; Feels too a joy relieve his aching breast When the spent storm hath howled itself to rest. Still, welcome beats the long continued shower, And sleep protracted, comes with double power; Calm dreams of bliss bring on the morning sun, For every barn is filled, and Harvest done! BOUGHT KNOWLEDGE.-Carey, writing during the period Coventry had held the Great Seal, (in Charles the First's time,) refers to the complaints which were then current, of the delay and expenses of the Court of Chancery. He mentions a case of two brothers contesting in that Court the until the litigants had expended 100%., when the elder overpossession of a gold chain worth 607.: the suit proceeded tured to the younger brother: "You see how these men feed on us, and we are as near an end of our cause as when we began: I will give you one half of the chain and keep the other, and so end this endless cause; and pray let us both make much of this wit, so dearly bought."-E. JESSE.