repair or enlargement of the tissues, and which may, therefore, be called the body-building principles, others are needed for the purpose of providing a constant supply of animal heat. Our food must contain a quantity of fuel, and not a little either, for as the temperature of the body is considerably higher than that of the atmosphere, averaging, in fact, about ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit, we are plundered of our caloric continually. Now, every grain of wheat includes, if we may so speak, its own little stock of oil and coke; that is to say, it is equipped with a quantity of fat, starch, gum, and other substances, which, by combining with the oxygen inspired, are burnt within the body on the same principle, but not with the same fiery manifestations, as tallow or coal are burned without it. The proportion of fat contained in wheaten bread is indeed very small, not amounting to much more than one per cent.; but the starch, sugar, and gum exist in comparative abundance. It would be impossible for us to refer particularly to the mineral matters, which bread, like all other perfect food, must include. Still less would it be practicable to follow the author while analyzing one substance after another, and indicating the properties wherein they excel. He concludes that our food should contain a due admixture of vegetable and animal substances in which the proportions of the three most important constituents, fat, starch or sugar, and fibrin or gluten, are properly adjusted. It is here that the wonderful instinct already mentioned, which leads mankind to mingle various articles of diet, so as to obtain all the necessary elements, comes into conspicuous play. Without possessing any chemical knowledge whatever, the stomach appears from time to time to have given strong hints to its owner, which have led to combinations as subtile and efficient as if they had been prescribed by the profoundest science. Why, for instance, should bread or potatoes form an indispensable accompaniment to beef? On analyzing the latter substance, it is found to consist of seventy-eight parts of water, nineteen of fibrin, and three of fat. These principles appear, as we have seen, in bread; gluten there being equivalent to fibrin here. But there is no starch in your steak, while there is much in your loaf. The fat, it is true, may to some extent represent this combustible material, but it will not supply as much fuel as is needed to keep your corporeal furnace in adequate action. Hence, by a natural impulse we resort to bread when attacking beef, or take the latter in flank with a dish of potatoes, these tubers-subtracting the water-containing almost ninety-two per cent. of starch. So, again, when the quantity of fat in any animal substance is insignificant, it is astonishing what tricks we employ to obtain a sufficient supplement from other sources. Thus, we eat along with those varieties in which it is small, some other food richer in fat. Thus, we eat bacon with veal, with liver, and with fowl, or we capon the latter, and thus increase its natural fat. We use melted butter with our white fish, or we fry them with fat; while the herring, the salmon, and the eels are usually both dressed and eaten in their own oil. If the reader will take the trouble of consulting any popular cookery book, he will find that sausage and other rich mixed meats are made in general with one part of fat and two of lean; the proportion in which they exist in a piece of good marbled beef. Art thus unconsciously again imitating nature. CORN BEER. The Chica, or maize beer, is a drink which is excessively popular among the mountain Indians on the western coast of South America. mode of manufacturing it, however, would surprise us if prescribed in any civilized manual of cookery. The receipt is this. Assemble all the members of the family, and, if you like, catch a few strangers to assist at the operation. Let them seat themselves on the floor in a circle, and place a large dish in the center. Around it deposit a quantity of dried maize. Then let each individual take up a handful of the grain and chew it thoroughly. Spit the maize into the dish. Proceed till the entire mass has passed through the jaws of the company, and thus been reduced to a mass of pulp. Let it then be mashed in hot water and allowed to ferment. In a little time the abomination will be fit for use. So highly is it esteemed, that a polite native could offer no higher compliment to a traveler than a draught of the liquor thus villainously brewed. Strangely enough, the same process is employed in the Pacific, in the extraction of an intoxicating liquor from the ava root. Captain Wilkes gives an amusing account of the formalities with which the disgusting potion is prepared, the masticators, however, being required to possess clean, undecayed teeth, and prohibited from swallowing any of the juice under pain of chastisement. But it is highly interesting to note the chemical principles involved in these nauseous operations. Corn, as we have seen, and other grains contain a large quantity of starch. In order that fermentation may occur, this starch must be converted into sugar. Commonly the change is effected through the instrumentality 292 LADIES' REPOSITORY. of a substance called diastase, which is developed during the process of malting. It happens, however, that the saliva possesses a similar power of transforming starch into sugar. Of course, neither the Indian nor the man of Feejee has the slightest conception of the chemical influences which are at work in his jaws, but, that people living at such a distance from each other, and acting in complete ignorance of the scientific bearings of their processes, should have adopted the same practice in order to obtain the same results, is one of the many curious and recondite facts which the volumes of Professor Johnston on the "Chemistry of Common Life" have brought prominently into view. OPIUM. the obverse might bear with equal truth the inscription-gift of the devil. COCA. There is another narcotic, and it is but one out of many described by the author, to which a passing glance may be allowed. This is the coca of the Andes. Rarely is a native of these regions to be seen without his little pouch of leather to hold the leaves of this remarkable plant, and a small bottle of vegetable ashes or unslacked lime. The purpose of the latter material is to excite a flow of saliva, and bring out the taste of the leaf in all its pungency. Repose being essential to the full enjoyment of the process, the consumer lies stretched in the shade, deaf alike to the commands of his master, to the roar of the predatory beasts, or even to the approaches of the flames which may have been kindled in his vicinity. Taken in moderation it produces a gentle excitement, induces cheerfulness, and seems by no means unfavorable to health and longevity. Taken in excess, however, it soon weakens the digestion, occasions biliary affections, destroys the appetite for natural food and creates a craving for animal excrement, disorders the intellectual faculties, and drives the patient to brandy-if he can procure it-to assuage his bodily pangs. Fortunately the use of coca is principally confined to the natives, whose gloomy and monotonous existence is undoubtedly relieved by its perilous juice; but occasionally a resident European is tempted into the vice, and becomes as pliant a victim as the Indians themselves. The effect of opium varies, to a great extent, according to the temperament and race of the individual. Its influence upon a man of obtuse faculties or inferior susceptibilities, is simply to remove sluggishness, and make him "active and conversable." Upon excitable people, like the Javanese, the Negro, the Malay, it exerts a terrible power, sometimes rendering them perfectly frantic. The well-known phrase, "running a muck," is derived from the Javanese practice of sallying out, when inebriated with opium, and killing any body who comes to hand. De Quincey speaks of the "abyss of divine enjoyment" which was suddenly laid open to him when he quaffed his first dose of laudanum. He thought he had discovered a panacea for all human woes. Happiness might thenceforth be bought at the druggist's shop, and bliss to any amount kept in an apothecary's vial. But terrible was the retribution exacted. The dose must not only be repeated, but increased, to keep down the giant craving which was continually acquiring strength. At one period the English Opium-Eater took three hundred and twenty grains of opium a day. Coleridge says Cottle has been known to swallow a whole quart of laudanum in twenty-four hours! And the result? "Conceive," says the latter, "whatever is most wretched, helpless, and hopeless, and you will form as tolerable a notion of my state as it is possible for a good man to have. You have no conception of the dreadful hell of my mind, and conscience, and body!" Think of me," says De Quincey, "even when four months had passed-after renouncing opium-as of one still agitated, throbbing, palpitating, shattered, and much in the situation of him who has been racked." Verily, if the Turkish traveler carries with him opium lozenges, stamped on one side with the words, "Mash Allah," the gift of God, "Young men of the best families in Peru become sometimes addicted to this extreme degree of excess, and are then considered as lost. Forsaking cities and the company of civilized men, and living chiefly in woods or in Indian villages, they give themselves up to a savage and solitary life. Hence the term, a white coquero-the epithet applied to a confirmed chewer of coca-has there something of the same evil sense as 'irreclaimable drunkard' has with us.” ARSENIC -the arserious acid of the c in this country as a tonic and stered in very minute d wed in larger quantities, a therefore, a particular enem But what will the reader 1 hat there are localities where rais employed as an articl effect is to produce plum iness of skin, beauty of co improvement in appearan In some parts of Lowe i particular, the old ve-potions seem to be n Then a peasant maiden has a youth who may be charms, she often pr en by the use of arsenic. ed with caution, never Coca is remarkable for two properties which are not known to coexist in any other substance. First, it enables the consumer to dispense with food to a marvelous extent, by retarding, as is probable, the waste of the tissues; and, second, it obviates the difficulty of breathing which is usually felt in ascending acclivities, so that a traveler, duly primed with coca, may climb hights and follow swift-footed animals, as Von Tschudi observes, without experiencing any greater inconvenience than if engaged on the level coast. Hence its value in mountainous districts. « at a time, and gradually , however, the dar at a hurry to extract bes de hate in order to obtain me to secure a plumpe sy skin; but if the asters who do not pa These flesh and spirits an the custom is resum es in their food will render erent. Like coca, too astonishing powers cend hills without suf ail-a small fragment pl ere the attempt, and allo beng sufficient to que ARSENIC. Arsenic-the arsenious acid of the chemistis known in this country as a tonic and alterative when administered in very minute doses, but when swallowed in larger quantities, as a rank poison, and, therefore, a particular enemy to rats and men. But what will the reader say when he learns that there are localities where this virulent material is employed as an article of diet, and that its effect is to produce plumpness of form, sleekness of skin, beauty of complexion, and a general improvement in appearance? Yet such is the fact. In some parts of Lower Austria, and in Styria in particular, the old stories of philters and love-potions seem to be more than realized. When a peasant maiden has fixed her affections upon a youth who may be insensible to her natural charms, she often proceeds to highten them by the use of arsenic. If the poison is used with caution, never exceeding half a grain at a time, and gradually accustoming the system to its action, the effect is perfectly magical. It adds "to the natural graces of her filling and rounding form, paints with brighter hues her blushing cheeks and tempting lips, and imparts a new and winning luster to her sparkling eye." Occasionally, however, the damsel may be in too great a hurry to extract beauty from the drug, and by augmenting the dose immoderately, she may fall a sacrifice to her passion or her vanity. Its use, however, is by no means confined to maidens. Though incapable of exciting the mental pleasure which opium and certain other narcotics produce, it is consumed very largely among the peasant population without occasioning any evil results, provided the doses are adapted to the constitution of the individual. But if the practice should be abandoned, symptoms of disease such as would ordinarily follow the reception of arsenic by uninitiated persons, immediately appear, and the patient is compelled to renew the habit in order to obtain relief from the ailments which spring up to torment him. It is the same with horses. Arsenic is given to these animals to secure a plumpness of body and a sleek, glossy skin; but if they pass into the hands of masters who do not patronize the practice, they lose flesh and spirits and gradually decline, unless the custom is resumed, when a few pinches in their food will render them perfectly convalescent. Like coca, too, this substance possesses astonishing powers in enabling persons to ascend hills without suffering from want of breath-a small fragment placed in the mouth before the attempt, and allowed to dissolve slowly, being sufficient to qualify a man for very elaborate undertakings in this line. Is it not marvelous to find that a deadly material like this should yet be a strengthener of respiration, an exciter of love, and a restorer of health? Mithridates is famous for the facility with which he digested his poisons, but we never understood that he took them to improve his body, and work himself up into a handsome, fascinating gentleman. SMELLS. There is a possibility of compounding smells infinitely more terrific than any which nature produces, and of employing them in warfare either for purposes of defense or annoyance. Some substances are sufficiently atrocious in themselves. Swallow a small pellet of powdered sulphur, and it will diffuse a noisome atmosphere around the individual for many days. Take a quarter of a grain of a preparation of tellurium, and, though in itself inodorous, it will impart such a disgusting fetor to the breath and perspiration, that the dearest friend of the victim will be ready to indite him as a public nuisance. If a single bubble of seleniureted hydrogen gas be permitted to escape into a room, it will attack the company with symptoms of severe colds and bronchial affections, which will last many days. Indeed, it is only necessary to read what is said about a ferocious compound, known as the cayanide of kakodyle, to obtain some idea of the resources of the chemist in the elaboration of detestable smells. The vapor of this terrible substance is decomposed on coming in contact with air and moisture; and two of the most deadly poisons known to exist-white arsenic and prussic acid-are instantly engendered and dispersed through the atmosphere.-Review of Professor Johnston's Chemistry of Common Life, in British Quarterly Review. MAKING A GOOD IMPRESSION. NOTHING is more steadily pursued, or more adroitly managed, than the artful policy of making a good impression. We hide the worst and show the best, even before friends. But it is not by public displays that we are truly to be judged. If the public gaze could but penetrate the privacy of domestic life, it would perceive little to admire in those who are most ambitious of showing off. The shrew, the despot, and the hypocrite, divested of disguise, would then be seen in their true colors, with none of those attributes and graces which belong to the real gentleman or lady, who are always such, whether in the presence of company or alone by themselves. THE FOUNT OF LOVE. BY ELVIRA PARKER. UNREGARDED-unrevealed, THE WORLD ABOVE. BY REV. C. HARTLEY. No gloom, no night, nor cloud of grief, Across those sunny plains of peace, Here death's dread power is seen, The world above is not like this- Take up their crown and home! With love's ecstatic zest. O, for a harp in that bright world, Here death's black banners are unfurl'd THE SNOW-FLAKE. BY MRS. S. K. FURMAN. BEAUTIFUL Snow-flakes, so pearly and white! Nature arraying in pure robes of rest; Swiftly ye come with the deep moaning breeze; Delicate prints of your beautiful showers; Lo, in your path is the mendicant's cry; CHARACTERISTICS OF MODERN FRENCH LIT- impossible to call them shallow, yet they were A scarcely profound. They did not stir the secret depths of the inner man. They contain no aspirations after the Infinite, no pictures of a soul in conflict with the primary mysteries of its being, no subtile questionings and gropings about the roots of the Tree of Knowledge, no "thoughts that wander through eternity and find no resting-place." morbid, nothing extravagant. The age has all the characteristics of a classic, as distinguished from a romantic epoch. ERATURE. BRIDGMENTS are notoriously profitless, meager and jejune; the attempt to sketch in a few pages the characteristics of a whole century of intellectual production must always be unsuccessful and unsatisfactory, and the more fertile the age the more inadequate must gen-On the other hand, there is nothing wild, nothing erally be the portraiture. Yet it can not be doubted that generations and epochs have for the most part certain distinctive features, at once salient and pervading, which, as they belong to the political circumstances or the social condition of the period-to those influences, that is, which most powerfully modify the intellect of the time and country—are traceable in all departments in which that intellect exerts itself, and give a peculiar cast and coloring alike to the poetry, the fiction, the oratory, the philosophy, and the controversy to which that age gives birth. More powerful still, perhaps, are they in deciding on what departments the intellect of the time shall be most active; determining its bent sometimes toward religion, sometimes toward speculation, at one period toward the realms of fancy, at another toward those of practical life. The seventeenth century was one of vast mental activity and vigor. Few eras present such a galaxy of great names in nearly every walk of literature-great preachers, great poets, great dramatists, great moralists-Bossuet and Massillon, Pascal and Fenelon, La Bruyere and La Rochefoucauld, Corneille and Racine, Moliere and Descartes. These were men of various genius, of discrepant opinions, of irreconcilable tastes. Still, certain qualities and certain negations characterize all their productions. Their age was pre-eminently the age of settled, though not of earnest convictions, of unquestioning but scarcely of stirring faith. It was an age of obedience-when the yoke of authority weighed upon every channel of intellectual pursuit, but was not yet felt to be a yoke. The literary world then embraced but a narrow circle, and on that circle the influence of the court rested with a pervading pressure that was scarcely recognized as pressure, because never resisted. Philosophers speculated energetically, but always with submission, under correction, and within the limits which the Church prescribed. Literary talent was never more active, but it expatiated under the overshadowing authority of the ancients, and according to the conventional rules of polished society. All the productions of the times bore the classic stamp. They were "correct" above every thing. It is Other features, too, distinguish it notably from the age which followed. The subjects selected by men of letters were different, their interests ran in a different channel, their ambition was directed to a different aim. They were more purely literary than their successors. They were immeasurably more exclusive in their social sympathies. They wrote for court circles, and spoke of citizens only in the way of ridicule. Of THE PEOPLE, their wants, their pleasures, their interests, their sorrows, they knew little and cared less. The problems of social life, dark, sad, and disturbing, never troubled them. They never perceived that the world was out of joint, or fancied they were born to set it right. They aspired to no political influence; the only politics with which they had any concern were those of court intrigue-the miserable strifes of personal ambition; the government of the country was the business of the monarch-they did not aspire to share either his labors or his prerogative; practically to influence society, to modify or meddle with the destiny of nations, to put forth thoughts which should agitate, convulse, or reorganize the world, was a presumption which never visited them even in dreams. Their highest aim was to instruct, to amuse, to interest, to melt, to sway, the cultivated, and the great. The seventeenth century threw its shadows so far over the eighteenth, that it is not till about 1746 that the peculiar features which we are accustomed to consider as characteristic of the latter epoch began to be prominently developed. The change which then became manifest, and grew more and more marked till the outbreak of the Revolution, had, however, been gradually preparing. Its seeds were sown before the seventeenth century was ended. The Revocation of the Edict of Nantez had operated as a narcotic on the religious spirit and religious literature of France. All the vitality which had of late so distinguished it died out. The Gallican Church had gained a triumph as ruinous as the victories of Pyrrhus. She had silenced or exiled |