starch, and sugar of milk. These possess the power of making the nitrate of silver give deep tones of black. Take of clean rice 14 ounces, isinglass (not gelatine) 80 grains, distilled water 1 pint. Boil these together in a porcelain pan, but only till the grains of rice begin to burst, as after that stage the starch dissolves too freely. Strain through fine muslin. Take of this rice-water 13 ounces, add to it sugar of milk 240 grains, iodide of potassium 80 grains, cyanide of potassium 4 grains. When dissolved, filter this, also, through muslin, and preserve for use in a well-stoppered bottle. If exposed to the air, the presence of organic matter causes speedy decomposition. Put a quantity of this solution into a porcelain tray, and immerse as many sheets of waxed paper as the liquid will conveniently cover, taking care that no air bubbles are between or underneath them. Allow them to soak in this,-say from thirty minutes to an hour. Then turn them right over, so that the lowest may be uppermost. After a few minutes, remove them, one by one; first allowing them to drain, and then pinning them up by one corner to dry. When all are removed, the solution should be filtered, and may be kept for future use, as it will serve any number of times. The paper should now have a bluish or violet tint, and it will keep at this stage for any length of time. TO EXCITE THE IODISED PAPER.-Take nitrate of silver, in the proportion of 30 grains, to distilled water 1 ounce, and when dissolved add glacial acetic acid 30 grains. Having put this solution into a porcelain tray-float, by candle-light, or in the darkened room, each waxed iodised sheet successively upon it. See that all air bells are expelled, and allow it to remain till the blue tint has disappeared. Then remove the paper, and float on distilled water, in two separate vessels one after the other, in order to remove all the nitrate of silver adhering, which would otherwise quickly become affected by light, and stain the paper. Preserve this distilled water, as it is used for the developing solution. Now drain, and dry between folds of blotting paper. Manipulate each sheet in this manner, and, when dry, preserve them in a portfolio, away from light, where they will keep good from three to four weeks, and most probably longer. TO EXPOSE THE PAPER IN THE CAMERA. -For the purpose of exposing paper to the action of light, in the camera, a slightly different arrangement to that used for glass is necessary. It is called a paper frame, and may be had either double or single, according as it is wished to insert the papers by one at a time, or in pairs. The advantage of the latter way is, that one paper can be exposed, and then another, without shifting the camera or frame, which may be very useful upon occasions. The time for exposure (of course) varies much; but about double that allowed for Collodion pictures will be requisite. When thought to be sufficiently exposed, the paper may be again placed in the portfolio, and the developing deferred till the operator returns home. This is the admirable part of the waxedpaper process, and all that need be taken to portfolio, with the prepared paper, which the fields, are, the camera and stand, and a also receives the sheets after exposure. How different to the Collodion, which must be exposed at once, after being excited, and which must be developed immediately after exposure! Not that I mean to disparage the latter, which, when performed at home, or in the neighborhood of a house, is incomparable. TO DEVELOP THE PICTURE.-Take gallic acid 10 grains, of the distilled water that the paper was washed in, after being excited halfan-ounce, distilled water half-a-pint. Imexposed the proper time, 10 minutes will merse the exposed paper in this solution. If generally suffice to develop the picture; the time of exposure, the picture will be but it is a curious fact that, however short developed if left long enough in this solution. When sufficiently brought out, wash the paper well by running water over it. TO FIX THE PICTURE.-Take hyposulphite of soda half-an-ounce, filtered water ten ounces, and immerse the picture therein; leaving it until the yellow iodide of silver is completely dissolved. When this is done, the paper should be put into a tray containing clean water, where it should lie for twenty or thirty minutes. It ought then to be hung up to dry. It is now fixed, and ready to be printed from. This is accomplished by superposition; in the same way as printing from Collodion negatives. I If the paper turn spotted, and only transparent in parts, it should be warmed, placed between blotting papers, and ironed. have now described the dry waxed-paper process, and I hope that I have done so to your readers' satisfaction. There still remains the wet-waxed paper process, by which the sensibility of the paper is much increased, though its use is limited to those cases in which Collodion may be employed. I propose to explain the rationale of this, together with the method of printing from engravings, or copying lace, ferns, &c. &c. (which I inadvertently omitted to do last month), when OUR JOURNAL shall again see the light. I hope that will be at a very early day. GLENELG. I bless'd thee then, my gentle one, Three happy years have roll'd away As human heart may be! Thou'lt have thy mother's smile, my girl, Yet, dearest, clasp thy father's neck, With fond affection's kiss. I bless thee yet once more, my child; May His protecting power THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS. Although men reason with much tact, Religion is not theory-but FACT. THERE ARE A VAST MANY MEN in the present day who live in the enjoyment (if such it may be called) of ideas of their own creating. They coldly admire what is passing before them calling it wonderful, but care little to make further inquiry—unless, indeed, it be by writing visionary and absurd Treatises. Now we differ from these good people in toto. When our admiration becomes fixed upon anything that is exquisitely beautiful in nature, or that calls for our special wonder, we look far beyond the visible creation, and pant to know more of the great and glorious Maker of Heaven and Earth, from whom emanates ALL we behold, and who evidently takes pleasure in us sons of men. Philosophers laugh at us for saying this, and make game of all future happy prospects. But transmigration of souls will not do for us. We have that within which gives the lie to such a doctrine. Having said thus much, let us record the observations of our worthy collaborateur (the Critic) on a similar subject. We have just been reading, says he, a book, attributed to Dr. Whewell, on "The Plurality of Worlds." It is a remarkable volume; proving logically, and almost to a demonstration, that our earth is the only part of the creation-at all events, of the solar system-which is yet inhabited. Our object, at present, in mentioning it is -to proclaim its value as a deadly blow on the face of Creation-worship and Pantheism. It demonstrates that the glory of the Heavenly bodies is all illusion—that they are really in the crudest condition—that there is not the most distant probability that they shall ever be fit for the habitation of intelligent beings--that man is totally distinct from all other races of beings, and is absolutely, essentially, and for ever superior to and distinct from the lower animals; and that, besides, he shall in all probability be renewed and elevated by a supernatural intervention. It hints, too, at our favorite thought that at death we leave this material creation for ever, and enter on a spiritual sphere, disconnected from this, and where sun, moon, and stars are the " things invisible; that, to use the words of Macintosh to Hall, "we shall awake from this dream, and find ourselves in other spheres of existence." And all these, and many similar ideas, are not thrown out as mere conjectures, nor even as bold gleams of insight, but are shown to be favored by analogy-nay, some of them founded on fact. We never read a book with more thorough conviction that we were reading what was true. Had the author gone a step or two further still, we could have followed him with confidence. Had he predicted the absolute annihilation of matter, we could have substantiated his statement by the words of Scripture "They shall perish, but Thou remainest; yea, all of them shall be changed and folded up as a vesture; but Thou art the same, and thy years fail not." Again, we say that we deeply value this admirable book, as a tractate for the times. It should be peculiarly useful to those poets who are constantly raving about the beauty, the glory, the immensity, and the divinity of matter. Each and all are palpable delusions; since matter is neither beautiful, nor glorious, nor immense, nor divine. It will show him that the glory of the moon, the planets, and the stars may be compared to the effects of morning or evening sunshine upon the towers of an infirmary, a prison, or some giant city of sin-lending a false lustre to objects which in themselves are horrible or foul. These remarks are very sensible; and equally correct. Visionary views are at best but fallacious. There is no stability in them. They fail us in a trying hour. Whereas, to look beyond the eye is as delightful an occupation as it is profitable for our welfare. Sleep is sweet to a person who thus thinks. He sinks to his rest with gratitude, and awakens with feelings of love and praise. Principles like these will never make a man a bad citizen, a disagreeable companion, a cruel husband, or a false friend. Oh-no! COURAGE, MY LADS! BY ELIZA COOK. ALL'S FOR THE BEST! Be sanguine and cheerful, All's for the best! Set this on your standard, Providence tenderly governs the rest, All's for the best! Then fling away terrors, Meet all your fears and your foes in the van; And in the midst of your dangers or errors Trust like a child, while you strive like a man. All's for the best! unbiassed, unbounded, Providence reigns from the East to the West; And, by both wisdom and mercy surrounded, Hope and be happy that-ALL'S FOR THE BEST. A CRUISE IN A LOBSTER SMACK; SHOWING HOW LONDON IS SUPPLIED WITH LOBSTERS. ON A BEAUTIFUL EVENING, my dear sir, towards the end of August 1847, I went on board the fine cutter "Uzziel," Capt. John Harnden, belonging to, and built at the port of Salcombe. I had been invited by theCaptain to take a cruise with him to the coast of France, and see how the lobsters (which are displayed in the various fishmongers' shops in London) are obtained. This vessel is a very handsome model, an exceedingly fast sailer, and very beautifully fitted-up as a gentleman's yacht. She forms one of a fleet of six handsome cutters, owned by the two brothers John and Edwin Harnden, who each command one of them; while the others are sailed by their brothers-in-law and other relatives. At four o'clock the next morning, we got under weigh; and with a fresh breeze from the north-west were soon outside the harbour of Salcombe, and held, at the rate of nine miles an hour, a good course for the sale of Ushant. On looking behind us, the view presented by the mouth of the harbour; the high and rugged cliffs (against which the sea was dashing with tremendous force), and the bold and lofty promontory of the Bolt Head, with its topmost crags just tipped by the rising sun-was magnificent in the extreme. To seaward, a large fleet of trawlers, coasting craft, and other vessels, as well as some large ships, were pitching and tumbling about in the heavy swell that from its uninterrupted course across the broad Atlantic, rolls so tremendously in this part of the Channel. As soon as all things were made snug on deck, some fishing tackle was got out; from this I selected a line, and having baited the hook, with a strip cut from the tail of a fresh mackerel (called by fishermen a last), I soon had it towing some two hundred feet astern, and in less than five minutes a fine mackerel was jumping and struggling on the deck. This sport I continued with excellent luck, until breakfast time, when we were summoned below to partake of some of these delicious fish. One of the crew, who officiated as cook, had fried them in a manner that no professor of the culinary art (not even excepting Soyer, of gastronomic notoriety) need have blushed to have owned as his performance. This fish (the mackerel) is the most delicate that swims, either in fresh or salt water; and can only be eaten in perfec This cruise lasted three weeks; and I propose furnishing you with a very interesting and extended account of it. When OUR JOURNAL reappears-may it live for ever!-I will send you the continuation.-C.F.T.Y. tion on the sea-coast. The sooner it is cooked after being taken, the better. Those who live at some distance from the sea, and only know the mackerel as supplied by the itinerant fish merchants, or who in large towns get it from the fishmongers' shops, cannot form any idea of its delicious flavor; for though in these days of railways persons in the most remote parts of the country get their dish of fish; yet, at best, it is what on the sea-coast many of the poorest would hardly touch except in times of scarcity. "Mais revenons a nos moutons;" or, more properly, "Lobsters." On descending to the cabin, our breakfast table presented a very respectable appearance. At the head was a large dish of mackerel, nicely fried,-not as we see them at modern "fashionable" dinners (of a light brown color), but just sufficiently done to come off the bone, by which means the delicate flavor of the fish is preserved in all its perfection; for, though few may believe it, when fish are fried brown, you do not taste the fish but the "jacket of brown," in which the skill of the cook has enveloped him. By many (especially those whose digestive organs are weak), this fish is preferred boiled, though I think that much of the flavor is lost in the water. With the various other "refined" methods of cooking mackerel, I do not pretend to be acquainted; but some of them which I have tried have evinced a most wonderful share of skill on the part of the cook. I have actually partaken of them, without being aware of what fish I was eating! So much for "fashion and refinement." At the foot of the table was a large piece of boiled salt beef, flanked by a tray containing biscuit, and another with bread. In the middle was a large dish, in which were placed the parts of several fine Lobsters; and to these (as may be supposed) ample justice was done. The only drawback was the pitching and rolling of the vessel, which obliged all hands to keep a sharp look-out on the coffee-cups, plates, &c., lest they should pitch to leeward. This would effectually have put a stop to the enjoyment of these dainties by any landsmen; for the table seemed as if moving half-a-dozen ways at once. Breakfast over, I again betook myself to my line; but as the wind had freshened, and the speed of the vessel increased, I was obliged to give it up. I then occupied myself with a telescope in observing the various craft that were near us in different directions, the land which was gradually fading from our sight, and the shoals of porpoises gambolling about amongst the rolling waves. This amused me until dinner time. Towards evening it fell calm, and we remained kicking about until early next morning, when the breeze freshened, and we made good progress. About nine o'clock I turned in, and enjoyed a comfortable nap until four o'clock, when I was called on deck to see the Ushant Light, which was then just in sight, and formed a very interesting object seen through the haze. Soon after breakfast, we passed the Island, and entered the "Passage du Tour," as it is called by the French. This is a narrow channel between the main-land, a string of islands, rocks, and shoals; which form an irregular line to seaward, and extend nearly to "Point St. Matthew (a distance of about twelve miles, in a southerly direction), and may be considered to begin at the Isle of Ushant on the north. About half way down this line of rocks, &c, are the Islands of "Saintes," on one of which a lighthouse is built. The navigation of this channel is very intricate; but as it is protected in some measure from the heavy sea (which is always to be found in the Bay of Biscay), it is much frequented by coasting craft, in spite of a strong tide often running at six miles an hour. Having passed "Point St. Matthew" (on which are a lighthouse and the ruins of an ecclesiastical building) we entered the Bay of Camaret, containing a small seaport of the same name. This place is eight miles from Brest, and is situated at what may be termed the entrance of Brest Harbour. It was selected by the British, in 1694, as a landing-place in one of their expeditions against Brest. This expedition failed, and the English lost a great number of men. All this was minutely detailed to me by a little grey-headed French naval officer, dressed in full uniform and hard at work at (what is called in Devonshire) "helping the cooper." He told me he had been taken prisoner during the late war, and had (so it seemed) been made too well acquainted with the interior of an English prison, to have gained much love for the "Sacres Anglaises" (as he lost no opportunity of calling us). Camaret is a small town, with a tolerably convenient harbour, an excellent quay, and several windmills; but like most seaports, rather dirty. Here the Captain had a depot of Lobsters, which were kept in wooden tanks, in the shape of an ironing box pierced with holes, about an inch in diameter. These tanks are called "carves," though many call them ironing boxes. In these, the Lobsters caught during the absence of the vessels, are stored, and the men are thus enabled to pursue their avocation without waiting to use the vessel as a storehouse. These "carves" were taken care of by a very intelligent little French boy, under whose inspection the fish were both deposited and removed. After the former process they were secured by lock and key, of which he was the custodian. After having seen that all things were right, and having bought some flour, potatoes, and eggs, (which last cost the huge sum of five sous, or 24d. the dozen), we again embarked. Arriving on board we found the vessel full of the "Douanes," a set of lubbers, half sailors half soldiers, who had come to inspect the ship's papers. In England the coast-guard board a vessel, in nine cases out of ten, before she has let go her anchor; and frequently just as she enters the port. Here we had remained above three hours, with our ensign at our topmast head, waiting for these gentry to make their appearance; which, as we were only half-a-mile from the town, we thought was long enough; so we dressed and went on shore. After having inspected the papers, and the "role d'equipage" (in which I of course was not entered), the question was, "who and what was I ?" Accordingly, a mass of questions were addressed to me, to which I replied that the captain was my uncle; and that my anxiety to see "la belle France" had induced him to let me come with him. This immediately set their inquiries at rest; and after the "petit gout," permission was given us to go on shore, and no notice was taken of our having done so before they had examined the papers. Having finished our tea, we manned the boat, and went ashore to inspect the town. We soon reached the landing-place, opposite to which was a long bench on this some seven or eight Douanes, in full tog, were seated, enjoying the cool of the evening; when we landed they drew up in a line, and made us a military salute, which we returned by a bow, and left them highly delighted at our returning their salute. We now strolled through the town; and having seen all that was worth observation (which by the way was not much), we returned to our vessel. Next morning we got under weigh, and kept a sharp look-out for the boats of the fishermen, who, up and down this part of the coast, are constantly on the watch for the vessels belonging to the captain. The wind falling light, we did not make much progress; for by tea time we were only a few miles south of Couquet, a little town about 12 miles to the southward of Brest. Here we were boarded by three boats, each having several score of Lobsters for sale. These were neatly packed in wicker baskets, with lids to them. In a few minutes we were on deck to count the fish, and deposit them in the well. This well is a most ingenious contrivance for carrying the fish alive to England. It consists of a large space in the hold of the vessel, containing water; and in this vessel is capable of holding nearly 6000 Lobsters; is very strongly built, and thoroughly caulked to prevent the ingress of water from the well to the interior of the vessel. The planks forming the bottom of the vessel are bored full of holes, about an inch in diameter, which open into this well. By means of these, a constant eirculation of water from the sea to the well is kept up. The top of this well is covered with very stout oak-planks,__and forms (what is called) the "well-deck." From this well-deck, a sort of truncated chimney ascends to the deck above, and is covered with a wooden grating. Through this opening, the fish are put into the well, and taken out, when necessary, by means of a stout net (similar to a fisherman's landingnet), fastened to a long pole. The well is divided into a fore and after space, by means of a strong partition of oak planking. This serves to bind the sides of the vessel together; for the timbers do not reach to the keel in any part of the well, as it would be difficult to remove the fish without beaching the vessel, which it is not always desirable to do. As soon as we came on deck, we were saluted with a host of compliments from the assembled Frenchmen who had got their baskets on deck, and were ready to deposit their contents in the well. For several minutes nothing could be heard but "le bon capitaine," from all of them; mingled with an indescribable gibberish spoken on this part of the coast, a patois bearing a great resemblance in sound to Welsh, though possibly it might puzzle "a professor" of that language. After the fish were deposited in the well and paid for, it was gently hinted that they would like to drink "bon voyage" to" le bon capitaine." Accordingly, a bottle of brandy was brought on deck, together with a small glass of the capacity of a quarter of a pint. This was filled and handed to them in succession; including the moose (as the little boy who goes in their boats is called, though the crew facetiously named him, the "mouse"). It was very edifying to observe this little wretch (hardly more than ten years of age, and no higher than one's elbow) take the glass, and having wished us "bon voyage," bolt its contents at a gulp, though it nearly strangled him, making his eyes water at a furious rate, and almost taking away his breath. On recovering, he said (looking at his glass, as if prepared for a 2nd edition) “"very good!" On this, he was ordered into the boat, and the rest following him, we pursued our course to the southward, and towards evening were off the "Point of Penmarck," which, with its dangerous reefs and rocks, was about three miles inside us. Looking towards the shore, I was struck with the dazzling white of the different beaches along this part of the coast, which I found was owing to their being covered with |