66

saves nine."

"A stitch in time," say No poor man or woman

causes a considerable saving. the proverb, needs to be ashamed of patched clothes. Every patch is, on the contrary, creditable, for it bespeaks industry. But that any woman should go about day after day, and week after week, in torn clothes, is a reproach, which, one would think, no woman of true spirit, who knows the use of a needle, would endure. If it is disgraceful to a farmer that his fields should be overrun with weeds, how much more disgraceful is it for a woman to wear day after day, gowns, or other clothes, full of holes.

I wish the poor would feel, that slatterns not only bring shame upon themselves, but stand also in their own light, are their own enemies, and turn away from them many who wish to serve them; but none can be served to any purpose, by others, who do not take pains to serve themselves. Cottage Visitor.

USES OF SALT.

As a necessary of life salt probably ranks next to the bread we eat, or the water we drink. Like the air we breathe, or the sunbeams that warm us, it is obviously the medium through which a long train of other blessings are enjoyed, and is scarcely less essential to the preservation of health than the gratification of the palate. In the interior of Africa, salt, from its scarcity, is husbanded with a degree of care of which Europeans can have no idea: and the ill-fated Park gives a vivid picture of the high estimation in which it is held by the natives, who make long journeys to the coast in search of their favourite luxury, and appear to be perfectly transported when they can acquire a few grains to qualify a mess of rice or garlic. There, a man's wealth is less measured by the number of servants he keeps than by the quantity of salt he can afford to consume. But great as are its nutritive and domestic uses, its preservative properties are still greater. But for salt the ocean would actually lavish on us its treasures in vain. The mighty deep might indeed be dragged and the nets inclose almost miraculous draughts of fishes; but to what purpose would be all this labour, unless we had the means of preserving them? Even in

the case of the city of London, we question whether its dense population could consume in a fresh state all the fish that is caught in the river and adjacent coast. But by the united exertions of the cooper and salt merchant, these evils are not only completely averted, but a thousand substantial blessings are at the same time showered upon the human race. The most distant and solitary seas are laid under contribution, and forced to yield up their finny inhabitants-from the herrings of Orkney to the cod-fish of Newfoundland. No bank is so distant that it cannot be visited; and few fishes so obscure that their haunts and

habits may not be found out. As geologists draw maps of the strata under ground, so navigators draw charts of those wonderful banks upon which the cod and the ling bask themselves into corpulency for the good of our species. On every coast, and in every clime, the weatherbeaten fisherman toils; connecting, by means of his adventurous prow, islands with continents, and one division of the globe with another; labouring assiduously in summer that the winter months may pass cheerily away; and placing within the reach of the poor, viands upon which even the rich, if blessed with equal appetites, might look down upon with envy.-Like the green and fertile earth, the ocean is filled with inexhaustible stores; but as men on land must sow and reap, or, in other words, gain their bread by the sweat of their brow; so men at sea must drag the net and sink the line before they can possess themselves of those hidden treasures, which Providence has wisely reserved as the reward of industry.

M.Diarmid.

NIGHT IN A TURKISH FAMILY.

As it does not fall to the lot of every traveller to pass the night in a Turkish family, you may be curious enough to know how we were entertained. We were shewn into a large room with a divan or sofa continued all round the walls, and here we stretched ourselves. They brought us the usual entertainment of pipes and coffee, and after some time the Muzzelim's son and his uncle entered the room, and seated themselves on the divan opposite, and smoked their pipes without saying a word. After passing

an hour in this silent way, preparations were made for supper. The young man stood up, took a cloth from a servant, and with a dexterous fling spread it in a circle on the floor; in the centre of this he placed a joint-stool, and on the stool a large metal tray. We were now motioned to approach, and having sat cross-legged on the floor round the stool, we drew the skirts of the cloth over our knees, while the servants brought embroidered napkins and laid one on each of our shoulders. When all the company were seated, including our janissary, the first dish was brought in and laid on the tray; round the edge of the tray were placed long slices of brown bread, with a horn spoon between each, so as to project over and form a complete border, and in the middle was set a large pewter basin of peas-soup; having all dipped in our spoons and taken a few mouthfuls, it was removed and immediately succeeded by another filled with sausages. Into this the Muzzelim's son dipped his hand, and we all followed his example. This was also removed, and replaced by one of youart, a kind of sour milk, with balls of forced meat floating in it; next succeeded balls of meat wrapped up in vine leaves, then mutton boiled to rags on homos, a kind of pea, like a ram's head, which they are very fond of in this country; and lastly, a piloff, or dish of boiled rice, with which all Turkish entertainments conclude. glass of pure water was handed round, of which we all drank, and then followed servants with a ewer and basin, in which we washed. The whole apparatus was now removed, and we resumed our pipes and seats on the divan, having dispatched our supper with such silent celerity, that the whole occupied but nine minutes and a half!

A

As we had brought apparatus with us, we now procured some hot water, and entertained our hosts with a cup of tea, which they had heard of, but never tasted. We sweetened a cup in the most approved manner with sugar, and softened it with milk, and then presented it. A Turk never takes any thing of this kind but coffee, without milk or sugar, which is as black, thick, and bitter as soot; when, therefore, he filled his mouth with the mawkish mixture we made for him, his distress was quite ridiculous. He would not swallow it, and he would not spit it out, for a Turk never spits out in company-so he kept it churning in his mouth, till he could keep it no longer.

He then made a pretext for going out, which he did as fast as a Turk can move, and got rid of it over the stairs. When he returned, however, he said the ladies of the harem requested to taste our tea also, so we sent them in a specimen; we heard them burst into loud fits of laughing at the extraordinary stuff, and we were informed they liked it as little as the men; we sent them, however, a present of dry tea, to make after their own fashion of coffee. Our bed and bed-chamber were the divan and room where we sat.-Dr. Walsh.

THE ORPHAN.

I SAW a little lamb to-day,
It was not very old;
Close by its mother's side it lay,
So soft within the fold:

It felt no sorrow, pain, or fear,
While such a comforter was near.

Sweet little lamb you cannot know
What blessings I have lost;
Were you like me what could you do,
Amid the wintry frost?

My clothes are thin, my food is poor,
And I must beg from door to door.

I had a mother, once, like you,
To keep me by her side;
She cherish'd me, and lov'd me too;
But soon, alas! she died;
Now sorrowful, and full of care,
I'm lone and weary every-where.

I must not weep and break my heart,
They tell me not to grieve;
Sometimes I wish I could depart,
And find a peaceful grave:
They say such sorrows never come
To those who slumber in the tomb.

'Twas thus a little orphan sung,
Her lonely heart to cheer;

Before she wandered very long,

She found a Saviour near:
He bade her seek his smiling face,
And find in heaven a dwelling-place.-Hastings.

BOUNDLESSNESS OF THE CREATION.

ABOUT the time of the invention of the telescope, another instrument was formed, which laid open a scene no less wonderful, and rewarded the inquisitive spirit of man. This was the microscope. The one led me to see a system in every star; the other leads me to see a world in every atom. The one taught me that this mighty globe, with the whole burden of its people and its countries, is but a grain of sand on the high field of immensity; the other teaches me that every grain of sand may harbour within it the tribes and families of a busy population. The one told of the insignificance of the world I tread upon; the other redeems it from all its insignificance; for it tells me, that in the leaves of every forest, and in the flowers of every garden, and in the waters of every rivulet, there are worlds teeming with life, and numberless as are the glories of the firmament. The one has suggested to me, that beyond and above all that is visible to man, there may be fields of creation which sweep immeasurably along, and carry the impress of the Almighty's hand to the remotest scenes of the universe; the other suggests to me, that within and beneath all that minuteness which the aided eye of man has been able to explore, there may be a region of invisibles; and that, could we draw aside the mysterious curtain which shrouds it from our senses, we might see a theatre of as many wonders as astronomy has unfolded, a universe within the compass of a point so small as to elude all the powers of the microscope, but where the wonder-working God finds room for the exercise of all his attributes, where he can raise another mechanism of worlds, and fill and animate them a with the evidence of his glory.-Chalmers.