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Title: The Youth's Instructor (Issue 5 of 6)
Date of first publication: 1824
Author: anonymous
Date first posted: June 29, 2014
Date last updated: June 29, 2014
Faded Page eBook #20140621

This eBook was produced by: Marcia Brooks, Fred Salzer
& the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net




  THE
  YOUTH’S INSTRUCTOR.

  No. 5.]      MAY, 1824.       [Vol. 1.




Chemical Essays.

No. 1.


HOMOGENEOUS AND HETEROGENEOUS ATTRACTION--CALORIC.

There is perhaps no branch of science which has improved so rapidly
within the last thirty years as that of Chemistry. Before that time
it wanted regular classification, and was entirely veiled from the
eyes of all but the professed philosopher, owing to the confusion of
its nomenclature. But now it presents to all an interesting field of
enquiry, which will amply repay the casual as well as the unintermitting
labourer. By the help of this science, he may examine and admire the
works of the great Creator of the universe, as well in the objects which
are constantly before him, as in the grander operations of nature. To
give a brief outline of this interesting branch of knowledge will be the
object of this and the following papers.

The investigation of the properties and mutual action of elementary
parts of bodies, and all changes in the constitution of matter, whether
effected by heat, mixture, or any other means, may be considered as
the peculiar province of chemistry. It must therefore be one of the
most diffuse subjects upon which we can enter; and to treat it with
regularity will be indispensably necessary. Let us first then take a
view of the powers and properties of matter connected with chemical
changes. These may be viewed under the heads of--

    I. HOMOGENEOUS ATTRACTION.
   II. HETEROGENEOUS ATTRACTION.
  III. CALORIC, OR HEAT.
   IV. ELECTRICITY.

_Homogeneous attraction_, or _the attraction of cohesion_, always
tend to the union of particles of the same nature. This it is which
under the name of gravitation attracts all bodies to the earth.--The
chief connexion it has with chemistry is, that it may be considered as
being the primary cause of chrystallization; a subject upon which our
narrow limits and its present uncertainty must prevent our enlarging.
We will therefore pass on to _heterogeneous_ or _chemical attraction_.
This, from some property unknown to man, causes particles of different
natures to unite in various manners. If into a glass containing a piece
of copper, some nitric acid[1] be poured, the acid will immediately
unite with the copper, and form a new compound, which does not partake
of the properties of its elements, but presents a distinct character.
This is the first thing we should observe in the unions caused by
chemical attraction; that, for the most part, the compound formed
differs entirely from both its elements; whereas, in the unions caused
by homogeneous attraction, no change in the nature of the matter acted
upon can take place. Thus, in the case before us the acidity of the
nitric acid is gone, and a body remains which partakes of none of its
powers. The _chemical nature_ of the body is not the only thing that
experiences a change. Frequently the colour and solidity of the body
are equally affected. In the case before us, the resulting compound is
of a beautiful blue colour, which was seen in neither of the original
bodies. Solids are changed by it into aeriform shapes, as when gunpowder
is inflamed. But we may also observe that, during the process of this
union, great commotion appears in the bodies acted upon. This is the
case in the instance to which we have already alluded. A great deal
of air is extricated during the decomposition of the copper. In many
unions, however, the immediate effect is much greater. If sulphuric
acid[2] be added to water, in the proportion of four pounds of the
former to one of the latter, so much heat will be produced in the
mixture as to raise the thermometer to 300° Fahrenheit.

  [1] Nitric acid will be treated of in the course of these papers. For
      the sake of preserving regularity no more than its name can now be
      mentioned. It may be obtained at the chemist’s, by any person
      desirous of trying the experiment, but great care should be taken
      in using it, as it is a very corrosive fluid, and rapidly destroys
      cloths.

  [2] Further mention of sulphuric acid must be postponed for the same
      reason as that of nitric. It may be obtained at the chemist’s.
      Greater care should be taken of this than of the nitric, as it
      destroys not only clothes, &c. but also animal fibre, and
      consequently would cause painful wounds.

We shall also find that, after a time, this commotion will cease: from
which we may learn that nitric acid and copper will only unite in
certain proportions.

Another very important fact in the system of chemical attraction is,
that different bodies are possessed of different attractive powers.
If into the solution (chemically termed _nitrate of copper_) which we
obtained in the former experiment, a piece of iron be immersed, you
will perceive that it will be immediately covered with a thin coating
of copper. The cause of this is, that the nitric acid has a greater
affinity to the iron, than to the copper it holds in solution; that,
consequently, it quits the copper and forms a new compound with the
iron; the copper being thus relinquished is _precipitated_, and forms
that thin coating which you may observe on the surface of the iron. Upon
this principle depends the power of chemically decomposing bodies, i.e.
reducing them to their original matters. Here the copper is first
dissolved by the acid, and then the compound thus formed is decomposed
by the intervention of the iron, and the copper restored in its former
state. On this principle it is that chemical tables have been formed,
by which at one view the chemist may be informed of the various powers
of attraction between different matter. A single column of this soil is
here introduced as a specimen.


Sulphuric Acid.

  BARYTA.
  STRONTIA
  POTASSA
  SODA
  LIME.
  MAGNESIA.
  AMMONIA.

From this table we should deduce that sulphuric acid had a greater
affinity to baryta than to strontia, to strontia than to potassa, to
potassa than to soda, and so on; and, consequently, that baryta would
decompose any compound of sulphuric acid formed with those bases
enumerated after it. There are two classes of decomposition, simple and
double. In the simple, one body separates a second from its combination
with a third. In the double, two new compounds are formed; as when
nitrate of baryta[3] and sulphate of soda are mixed, the nitric acid of
the former compound quits its form, and enters into a new compound with
the soda; while the sulphuric acid quits the soda, and enters into a new
compound with the baryta: so that two new compounds, nitrate of soda
and sulphate of baryta, are formed. It is evident from what has been
said, that there are some laws which govern the union of particles of
different natures. Concerning these and concerning the causes propelling
the particles to unite, many conjectures have been made, but nothing
certain has been discovered. Some suppose that all particles of matter
are endued with one of the two electricities, and that these subtle
fluids are always tending to unite. But as we do not intend to enter
upon the more abstruse points of chemistry, but merely to take a general
and popular view of the science, we will pass on to the next general
power alluded to, _heat_, or _caloric_.

  [3] Although the reader may not yet know what these drugs are, he may
      still make the experiment alluded to. It would be quite impossible
      to preserve any regularity of design, if we stopped to explain the
      nature of each drug alluded to by way of example. They will all of
      them be explained hereafter.

There are many doubts entertained as to the nature of this agent. It is
however generally supposed to be a fluid pervading, more or less, all
matter, and has been divided into

   I. FREE CALORIC.
  II. SPECIFIC HEAT, OR COMBINED CALORIC.

The name caloric has been proposed in the new nomenclature as a
substitute for heat, which has by common use been applied merely to the
_sensation_ of heat. One of the great characteristics of caloric is,
that it always tends to an equilibrium. It may be supposed that there
are rays of caloric flowing in all conceivable directions from all
bodies. But when any body is below the temperature of those around it,
the rays of caloric flowing from it are not equal in number to those
which it has a capacity for receiving, and consequently its temperature
is gradually heated to the same warmth with the objects around it. When
bodies are once raised to the same temperature with the atmosphere
around them, they radiate and absorb caloric in equal quantities, so
that they preserve their equilibrium. Cold is merely a negative subject,
implying the absence of heat. Thus, when we lay our hand upon a marble
slab, the _feeling_ of cold which we experience, is merely the caloric
flowing from our hands into the marble, and endeavouring to raise the
marble to the same temperature.

We have already observed that caloric is proceeding in different rays
from all bodies. This is called the _radiation of caloric_. Different
bodies have different radiating powers. This has been clearly proved
by the experiments of Mr. Leslie. All heat which is perceptible to the
senses may be considered as free caloric.

Besides the power of radiation, caloric may be reflected, subject to
the same laws as those which govern optical reflection.--Another very
important power of caloric is, its expanding all bodies, and thus acting
in direct opposition to the attraction of cohesion. It affects this by
introducing its particles between the particles of the body upon which
it acts. The power of bodies to bear in this way the introduction of
caloric between their particles, is called their conducting power. All
bodies have more or less the power of conducting caloric, but some
possess it in a much stronger degree than others. Generally the denser
bodies, such as metals, &c. are the best conductors of caloric. Porous
substances such as wood, cork, &c. are the worse conductors, down to
woollen cloth, flannel, and down, which is one of the lightest bodies
and at the same time one of the worst conductors. The reason of this may
probably be, that in the dense substances there is much less air, which
scarcely conducts caloric at all. On this principle of the different
conducting powers of bodies, depends the mode of clothing ourselves.
Flannel and woollen dresses being very bad _conductors_ of caloric,
prevent, when the temperature of the atmosphere is lower than that of
our bodies, the escape of the animal heat from them, and thus keep us
warm in the winter season. The same dress would keep us cool when the
atmosphere was warmer than our body, as it would prevent its penetrating
to our frame. If you lay your hand on a piece of marble, on the wood of
the table, and on the carpet of the room, they will all _appear_ to you
to be of _different_ temperatures; the marble coldest, the wood medium,
the carpet warmest, and yet the thermometer would inform you that they
are _really_ of the _same_ temperature. The reason of this is, that the
marble being the best conductor of caloric of the three, (as they are
all of a temperature below that of your hand, though of the same with
the atmosphere,) absorbs from you the caloric you possess more _rapidly_
than the others; and though it really makes you no colder than the
others would in the end, yet as it produces the same effect in a shorter
time, the change is more sudden, and consequently the sensation of cold
(which we must always remember is merely the abstraction of caloric) is
much greater. The reverse of this would be seen, from the same cause,
were we to put three pieces of ice on the various bodies enumerated. In
this case, that on the marble would first be melted, that on the wood
next, and that on the carpet last, because, here the conducting power
would act the other way, and induce the marble to part with its excess
of caloric to the ice more readily than the wood or the carpet could
do. And here we must admire and adore the gracious dispensations of a
Being who has stooped to adapt the various coverings of his creatures
to the circumstances in which they are placed. Who has provided those
most exposed to cold with furs or with plumage, and who has especially
guarded with _down_ (the worst conductor of caloric known to us) the
breast of aquatic birds, which is the part most exposed to the action of
the water.

(_To be continued._)




BIBLICAL ESSAY.

THE FIGURATIVE STYLE OF SCRIPTURE.


Although sceptical readers of the Bible may be disposed to ridicule some
of those figures which appear to them extravagant, and even absurd; yet
any one who lends an impartial attention to the subject, will clearly
perceive that the occurrence of imagery which would be frequently
obscure, and sometimes unintelligible to us, was to be expected in any
composition formed on the model of our sacred writings.

_First._ The innovating hand of time has rendered many things obsolete:
and, consequently, the allusions which in metaphorical language are made
to those things must be difficult, if not impossible, to be understood.
And when we recollect that some portions of the Scriptures were written
more than 3000 years ago, and that the latest of them were written
between 1700 and 1800 years ago, it would have been very remarkable had
we lost sight of none of those customs and none of those events on which
the figures of Scripture are founded.

_Secondly._ The difference between the scene and climate in which
the sacred writers lived, and our own, forms another barrier to the
right understanding of their figurative terms. This prevents us often
from perceiving the full force of a passage even when its beauty,
nevertheless, powerfully affects the mind. Thus when the Psalmist says,
“_As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after
thee, O God_,” It is impossible not to be affected by the combination
of chaste elegance of expression with vehement ardour of feeling. Yet
in our temperate clime, where water is scarcely ever known to fail,
where the sun scarcely ever pours his sickening ray upon our heads,
we are not prepared to enter into all the beauty of the figure, as an
inhabitant of Judea would have done. Again, the hart is not with us a
wild animal, subject to the various privations which it was compelled
to endure in regions where the sun had burned up its food, and dried
the streams at which it was accustomed to slake its thurst. It would
be no unusual thing, however, for an Israelite to see this inoffensive
animal exhausted and fatigued, and panting for a drop of water; and,
consequently, the application of the figure to the Psalmist’s desire
after God would convey an impression far more forcible than can be
produced by it on our minds.

In the forty-ninth chapter of Jeremiah, we have another figure still
more peculiar to the land of Judea.--_He shall come up like a lion from
the swelling of Jordan against the habitation of the strong._ In this
passage too, there is obvious beauty and even sublimity of description;
but it is considerably more obscure to us than the former. It would
however be perfectly familiar and intelligible to those for whom it was
first written. What we here know of a lion is chiefly by description,
and by the exhibition of a few of these monarchs of the four-footed race
encaged in caravans. These are comparatively small and feeble, and at
the same time so tame through confinement and the discipline of keepers,
that they shew us nothing of the true character of that unrivalled
animal, who walks in conscious superiority through the forest, or bounds
with resistless speed and violence across the plain, and fills, by his
tremendous roaring, a whole neighbourhood with terror. The river Jordan,
too, is so dissimilar to our rivers, as to increase the obscurity of
the passage to those who are not acquainted with the peculiarities of
its course. When the snows of Lebanon and of the neighbouring mountains
began to melt, and when the rainy season commenced, the mountain
torrents rushed into the vale below, and regularly caused Jordan to
overflow all its banks, and thus inundated all the adjoining lowlands.
The lion had his abode among the lofty reeds which grew on the bank of
this river; and when the descending waters caused Jordan to swell so as
to invade his resting-place, he was driven to madness by the intrusion
of an enemy whom he could not resist, and flew to revenge himself
against the inhabitants of the adjoining cities. How striking a picture
of the rage and violence of an invading army!

In the second verse of the fourteenth chapter of Hosea, the prayer
of repenting Israel is, “_Take away all iniquity, and receive us
graciously, so will we render the_ CALVES _of our lips_.” To an
English ear there is something grating in the expression “_the_ CALVES
_of_ OUR LIPS,”--and without a knowledge of Jewish peculiarities, we
shall not understand it. But when we remember that _calves_ were among
the best of the sacrifices which were offered up to God, we gain at once
a key to the explanation, and a view of the beauty of the figure. The
passage, in our language, means simply this; “So will we render the best
sacrifice of praise from our lips.”

_Thirdly._ The dress and manners of the ancients were exceedingly
different from ours. Their loose and flowing raiment formed a perfect
contrast to the tight inelegant garb of our own time and country. A
knowledge of this is necessary to explain many passages of Scripture.
The girding-up of the loins is frequently mentioned in places which
allude either to diligence in labour, or to swiftness in running the
appointed course. Now it is obvious, that a long, loose robe, would be
very inconvenient to servants who required to have their hands much at
liberty, and to be able to stoop with ease in the performance of their
work; and also to those who had to move quickly, and required that their
steps should not be impeded, nor their feet entangled by the length
of their garments. To remedy this, they always had a girdle, by means
of which, when they had gathered up the skirts of their garment, they
fastened it round the loins. To one who knew that he could neither work
nor run without having recourse to this measure, how forcible would be
such passages as these--_Let your loins be girded about, and your lights
burning, and ye yourselves like unto men who wait for their Lord. Gird
up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope unto the end, &c._

It were easy to extend observations of this kind, and to produce other
causes of obscurity in the various figures which are employed in the
page of inspiration. The truth is, that similar difficulties present
themselves in all the classical productions of antiquity; and it would
have been a strong argument against the genuineness of the Scriptures,
had they been waining in that style of speaking and thinking which was
peculiar to the times in which they were written.

There is only one more remark on this subject to which the attention
of the reader is particularly requested; and that is, the difficulty
of conveying the true import of a figure in a translation. Let the
reader take a French book, and, regardless of the idiom of the two
languages, and of the different class of figures employed by them, let
him translate literally, and how much would he lose of the beauty and,
in many cases, of the sense of the original!

Now in a translation of the Bible there is less liberty allowed to the
imagination, and even judgment of the translator, than in any other
book. His business is not to embellish, and not even to give his own
explanation of passages, but to put his reader in possession of the
plain work of God. He must not sacrifice correctness to beauty; he must
not aim at what he thinks the spirit of the passage, while he neglects
the letter; because, in so doing, he may have missed its true meaning;
he may have mistaken the nature of the allusion, and then he entails his
own mistake upon posterity. But if he translates accurately, though the
passage may be obscure to himself and to his readers, yet perhaps the
information brought home by some traveller who has observed the customs
of eastern nations, or the discovery of some books of antiquity, may
throw light upon it, and enable us to perceive beauties which were
before concealed, and which would have remained in darkness had the
translator taken the liberty which translators of other books are
permitted to take with impunity.

Making then due allowance for these several circumstances, which
hinder us from perceiving many of the excellencies of Scripture, are
we not still constrained to acknowledge that there is no book that
can stand a comparison with the Bible--none, which labours under such
great disadvantages to the development of its peculiar beauties of
composition, and which yet rises far above them all, exhibiting those
specimens in every style of writing and of thinking, which are above all
imitation and all praise.




THE JEW.


A young Jew, named Nathan, some short time ago, travelling in Germany
on the public road leading to the seaport town of P----, sat down to
refresh himself by the side of a wood through which it passes, and fell
fast asleep. A young man, the son of an inn-keeper in the neighbourhood
of the village of M----, had that morning cruelly murdered and robbed an
old Jew in his father’s inn. He fled in this direction from justice, and
happened to pass while this traveller was asleep. Desirous of throwing
suspicion on another, the more easily to effect his own escape, and
not considering, or not caring what the consequences might be to the
innocent individual, he halted, cautiously approaching, he lodged the
bloody knife in the pocket of the sleeping stranger, and then hastily
pursued his journey.

While still asleep, two soldiers passed on the road. “Why,” said one
of them to his companion, “we are both of us hungry and thirsty, may
we not apply to the pocket of this infidel Jew for a little money? As
he is asleep, he will not refuse it.” “The hint is good,” returned the
other, “for I am almost fainting from thirst, and I have not a farthing
in my pocket.” One of them accordingly approached, put his hand into the
pocket of drowsy Nathan for money; but instead of a purse, they laid
hold of, and drew forth a large knife, which they found covered with
gore. Recovering from their surprise, and hoping to earn the reward
to which the law entitles those who have delivered into the hands of
justice a man under suspicion of murder, they awakened and bound him;
and, deaf to his entreaties and protestations, conducted him to the
nearest town, where he was cast into prison.

During the first month, his imprisonment became to him intolerably
tedious. He asked the jailor whether he could not give him books to
read? “There is,” he replied, “in the whole house but one book, probably
left behind by a former prisoner.” “What book?” asked the Jew. “I do
not know it,” was the answer of the ignorant rude jailor. “I never
have read it; but on looking into it, I have found, that it contains
some historical accounts, and also several letters.” “Oh!” cried the
Jew, “give me that book; every book is preferable to tediousness.” He
gave it; it was the New Testament. He was about to return it; but said
to himself,--“What harm can it do me, if for once with my own eyes I
see what the Christians relate of their deified son of Mirjam? I shall
thereby be enabled to argue with Christians.” He began reading; first
with secret reluctance; but the longer he continued reading, reluctance
changed into a tormenting alarm and distress of mind.

The sermons of Jesus contained in the Gospels, appeared to him so
full of wisdom; his actions so supernatural; his views so pure; his
sentiments so noble and so holy, that he felt himself struck with
reverence, and was convinced, that not one of all men that have lived
here on earth, not even Moses or Abraham, was comparable to him. From
his early infancy he had heard his parents and teachers represent
Jesus of Nazareth, as proud and quarrelsome, and, to his own people,
a hostile innovator, mutineer, and impostor. He now was amazed to see
before his sight, on every page, the humblest and meekest of all the
sons of Abraham, nay, of all the children of Adam. He could not be
satiated by reading the sermon on the mount, and his last conversation
with his disciples, overflowing with the most tender parting love. With
silent tears in his eyes he read the history of the passion and death of
Jesus; but at his last words upon the cross, especially at that prayer,
“Father, forgive them,” he burst into tears and wept bitterly. He could
scarcely prevail upon himself to proceed; but his desire to know the
conduct of the disciples after the death of their master, induced him
to go on to the Acts of the Apostles also. The events of the day of
Pentecost, and the effects of the sermon of that day, struck him with
peculiar power; but the conversion of Saul made the deepest impression
upon his soul. This marvellous event operated decisively. He exclaimed,
“As truly as the God of Abraham lives in heaven, Jesus of Nazareth is
the Messiah, the Son of the living God!” In the same state of extacy he
lifted up his hands and played, “As truly as thou, O Jesus of Nazareth,
art the true Prophet and Messiah, I will be thy disciple! Have mercy,
upon me! Have mercy, as thou showest mercy to the thief at thy right
hand! Pray for me, as thou prayedst for thy murderers.--Father, forgive
him?”

This son of Abraham, now in his heart a believer, longed now with an
increased desire after the day of his acquittal, of which, conscious of
his innocence, he had not the least doubt. This desire was not so much
owing to his natural love of liberty, as to a wish to confess publicly
with the mouth, what he believed with his heart, and to be added, by
baptism, to the followers of Jesus Christ. He spent his time every
day in reading the New Testament, which now had become his invaluable
treasure; he repeatedly perused it from the beginning to the end, with
increasing interest and joy.

His trial for the murder at last took place. He defended himself with
freeness, but modesty; even his judges confessed that his conduct
bore testimony to his innocence; and the visible calmness of soul he
showed when the bloody knife found in his pocket was produced, and
his modest declaration on that occasion, staggered the judges. He was
remanded to prison. As to the final issue, he was without fear, quietly
waiting for the day, when God himself would be pleased to make his
innocence manifest by some providential incident. After having been
detained in prison for fifteen months, he received sentence, by which
he was condemned to be whipped publicly before the town-hall, on three
different days, and then to one year’s hard labour in the citadel. A
tear dropped from his eyes when the sentence was communicated to him,
but he returned calmly and resigned into his prison.

Before the time of execution, an official message arrived from the court
magistrates at P----, by which notice was given, that the real murderer
of the old Jew had there been detected and brought into prison, and that
he had already confessed his crime.

Our prisoner was sent back to prison, but shewed into a better room;
and after the lapse of a week, he was restored to full liberty. The
most respectable inhabitants of the town expressed their concern for
his undeserved imprisonment, and their cordial sympathy in his release.
He replied, “Your interest in my case affects my heart; but I cannot
accept your compassion, for by my imprisonment I have lost but little,
and gained infinitely.” Soon after being set at liberty, he enquired
after a pious minister of the gospel; the Rev. Mr. B. was recommended
to him; to whom he opened his heart, and related to him all that he had
experienced, and most earnestly entreated him to baptize, and admit him
to the Lord’s supper.

When the minister had thoroughly examined him, he wrote to his superior,
“I have found him so profoundly informed of every truth of our religion,
and at the same time so firmly convinced of its divinity, that I should
deem it sinful to refuse him baptism.” Some weeks afterwards he was
publicly baptized in the parish Church, and received his Christian
name, Christophilus, and was afterwards admitted to partake of the holy
sacrament.

In the meantime, the real murderer being convicted on his own
confession, was sentenced to be whipped on eight different days, and to
six years hard labour in the citadel. While undergoing the latter part
of this sentence, the young Jew, though he had suffered so much, felt
no desire to reproach or triumph over him. He was now a Christian,
and Christian feelings dictated a different conduct. He followed the
example of Joseph to his brethren, on perceiving that the Lord had
so wonderfully made his afflictions the means of such great good.
He resolved to return good for the evil intended.--He visited him
frequently in his confinement--procured, by his exertions in his behalf,
some mitigation in the rigour of his punishment, and a daily supply of
better food for his comfort. But his principal desire was the salvation
of his soul;--and he was honoured by success.--The poor criminal took
ill, and was confined to bed.--Christophilus acted as his nurse, and
left nothing undone which could tend to his comfort and recovery. But
the welfare of his soul, was his chief concern. He instructed, he
warned, he entreated; he solicited the sick man to think of his soul,
and to turn with a penitent heart to him who pardoned and saved the
murderer on the cross--His solicitations and prayers were effectual. It
pleased the Lord, who receiveth sinners, to touch the hardened heart of
the culprit. He sought for mercy, and found it. He melted away in tears
of the deepest repentance, under a prayer, offered up by his benefactor;
and prayed afterwards himself with affecting fervour and devotion. The
Lord answered the supplication of the contrite sinner, and spoke peace
to his soul. From that day he began to recover from his illness; and,
after his restoration to health, and the termination of his punishment,
both his countenance and his conduct bore testimony to the reality and
sincerity of his conversion.

The young Jew having accompanied him to his wife and
father-in-law,--continued to adorn the doctrine of Christ for several
years, and died in confident hope of a blessed immortality through the
true Messiah, Jesus Christ.




DESCRIPTION OF A PILGRIMAGE ACROSS A DESERT.

_As given by Ali Bey, in his Travels in Morocco, Tripoli, &c._


“We never kept the common road, but marched through the middle of the
desert, to avoid some Arabs, whom we had seen. This country is entirely
without water; not a tree is to be seen: not a rock which can offer a
shelter or a shade. A transparent atmosphere; an intense sun, darting
its beams upon our heads; a ground almost white, and commonly of a
concave form like a burning-glass; slight breezes scorching like a
flame. Such is a faithful picture of this district through which we were
passing.

“Every man we met with in this desert is looked upon as an enemy. Having
discovered about noon a man in arms on horse-back, who kept at a certain
distance, my thirteen Bedoueens united the moment they perceived him,
darted like an arrow to overtake him, uttering loud cries, which they
interrupted by expressions of contempt and derision, as, ‘_What are you
seeking, my brother?_’ ‘_Where are you going my son?_’ As they made
these exclamations, they kept playing with their guns over their heads.
The discovered Bedoueen fled in the mountains, where it was impossible
to follow him. We met no one else.

“We had now neither eaten nor drank since the preceding day: our horses
and other beasts were equally destitute, though ever since nine in the
evening we had been travelling rapidly. Shortly after noon we had not
a drop of water remaining; and the men, as well as the poor animals,
were worn out with fatigue. The mules stumbling repeatedly, required
assistance to lift them up again, and to support their burden till
they rose. This terrible exertion exhausted the little strength we had
left. At two o’clock in the afternoon, a man dropped down stiff, and as
if dead, from great fatigue and thurst. I stopped with three or four
of my people, to assist him. The little wet which was left in one of
the leathern budgets was squeezed out of it, and some drops of water
poured into the poor man’s mouth, but without affect. I now felt that
my own strength was beginning to forsake me; and becoming very weak, I
determined to mount on horseback, leaving the poor fellow behind. From
this moment others of my caravan began to droop successively, and there
was no possibility of giving them any assistance: they were abandoned
to their unhappy destiny, as every one thought only of saving himself.
Several mules, with their burdens, were left behind; and I found on my
way, two of my trunks on the ground, without knowing what had become
of the mules which had been carrying them, the drivers having forsaken
them, as well as the care of my effects and my instruments.

“I looked upon this loss with the greatest indifference, as if they
had not belonged to me, and pushed on. But my horse now began to
tremble under me, and yet he was the strongest of the whole caravan. We
proceeded in silent despair. When I endeavoured to encourage any one
of the party to increase his pace, he answered me by looking steadily
at me, and by putting his forefinger to his mouth, to indicate the
great thirst with which he was affected. As I was reproaching our
conducting-officers for their inattention, which had occasioned this
want of water, they excused themselves by alleging the mutiny of the
oudaias; ‘and besides,’ they added, ‘do not we suffer like the rest?’

“Our fate was the more shocking, as every one of us was sensible of
the impossibility of supporting the fatigue to the place where we
were to meet with water again. At last, about four in the evening, I
had my turn, and fell down with thirst and fatigue. Extended, without
consciousness, on the ground, in the middle of the desert; left only
with four or five men, one of whom had dropped at the same moment with
myself, and all without any means of assisting me, because they knew
not where to find water, and, if they had known it, had not strength to
fetch it; I should have perished on the spot, if Providence, by a kind
of miracle, had not preserved me.

“Half an hour had already elapsed since I had fallen senseless to
the ground, (as I have since been told,) when, at some distance, a
considerable caravan of more than two thousand souls was seen advancing.
It was under the direction of a marebout, or saint, called Sidi Alarbi,
who was sent by the sultan to Tremecan. Seeing us in this distressed
situation, he ordered some skins of water to be thrown over us. After
I had received several of them over my face and hands, I recovered
my senses, opened my eyes, and looked around me, without being able
to discern any body. At last however, I distinguished seven or eight
sherifs and fakeers, who gave me their assistance, and shewed me much
kindness. I endeavoured to speak to them, but an invincible knot in my
throat seemed to hinder me; I could only make myself understood by
signs, and pointing to my mouth with my finger. They continued pouring
water over my face, arms, and hands; at last I was able to swallow a
small mouthful. This enabled me to ask, ‘Who are you?’ When they heard
me speak, they expressed their joy, and answered me, ‘Fear nothing; far
from being robbers, we are your friends:’--and every one mentioned his
name. They poured again over me a still greater quantity of water--gave
me some to drink--filled some of my leathern bags, and left me in haste,
as every minute spent by them in this place was precious to them, and
could not be repaired.

“The attack of thirst is perceived all of a sudden, by an extreme
aridity of the skin; the eyes appear to be bloody; the tongue and mouth,
both inside and outside, are covered with a crust of the thickness of
a crown-piece: the crust is of a dark colour, of an insipid taste,
and of a consistence the soft wax from the bee-hive. A faintness of
languor takes away the power to move; a kind of knot in the throat
and diaphragm, attended with great pain, interrupts respiration. Some
wandering tears escape from the eyes, and, at last, the sufferer drops
down to the earth, and in a few minutes loses all consciousness. These
are the symptoms which I remarked in my unfortunate travellers, and
which I experienced myself.

“My Bedoueens, and my faithful Salem, were gone in different directions
to find out some water, and two hours afterwards returned, one after
another, carrying along with them good or bad water as they had been
able to find it. Every one presented me part of what he had brought.
I was obliged to taste it, and drank twenty times; but as soon as I
swallowed it my mouth became as dry as before. At last I was not able
to spit or to speak. I got with difficulty on my horse again, and we
proceeded on our journey.”




ANECDOTE OF A HIGHLANDER’S DOG.


A shepherd who inhabited one of those glens which intersect the Grampian
mountains of Scotland, in one of his excursions to look after his
flock, carried along with him a child of three years old. This is not
an unusual practice among the Highlanders, who accustom their children
from the earliest infancy to endure the rigours of the climate. After
traversing his pastures for some time attended by his dog, the Shepherd
found himself under the necessity of ascending a summit at some distance
to have a more extensive view of his range. As the ascent was too
fatiguing for the child, he left him on a small plain at the bottom,
with strict injunctions not to stir from it till his return. Scarcely,
however, had he gained the summit, when the horizon was darkened by
one of those impenetrable mists which frequently descend so rapidly
amidst the mountains as in the space of a few minutes almost to turn
day into night. The anxious father instantly hastened back to find his
child; but, owing to the great darkness and his own trepidation, he
unfortunately missed his way in the descent. After a fruitless search of
many hours, he discovered that he had reached the bottom of the valley,
and was near his own cottage. To renew the search that night was equally
fruitless and dangerous. He was therefore compelled to go home, although
he had lost both his child and his dog, which had faithfully attended
him for many years. Next morning, by break of day, the Shepherd,
accompanied by a band of his neighbours, set out to seek the child;
but after a day spent in fruitless fatigue, he was at last forced by
the approach of night to descend from the mountain. On returning to
his cottage he found that the dog which he had lost the day before,
had been home, and on receiving a piece of oat cake had instantly gone
off again. Struck with this singular circumstance, he remained at home
the next day, and when, as before, the dog departed with his piece
of cake, he resolved to follow him, and find out the cause of this
strange procedure. The dog made his way to a cataract at some distance
from the spot where the Shepherd had left his child. The banks of the
cataract, almost joined at the top, yet separated by an abyss of immense
depth, presented that appearance which so often astonishes and appals
the travellers who frequent the Grampian mountains. Down one of these
rugged and almost perpendicular descents, the dog, without hesitation,
began to make his way, and at last disappeared by entering a cave, the
mouth of which was almost level with the torrent. The Shepherd with
difficulty followed, but, on entering, what were his emotions when he
beheld his infant eating with much satisfaction the cake which the dog
had just brought to him; while the faithful animal stood by, eyeing his
young charge with the utmost complacence! From the situation in which
the child was found, it appeared that he had wandered to the brink of
the precipice, and then either fallen or scrambled down till he reached
the cave. The dog, by means of his scent, had traced him to the spot,
and afterwards prevented him from starving by giving up to him his daily
allowance. He seems never to have left the child day or night, except
when it was necessary to go for food, and then he was always seen going
at full speed to and from the cottage.




POETRY.

To Solitude.

    Yes, Solitude, thou hast unnumber’d charms
  For me. Dear to my heart thy silent hour,
  When, all resign’d to meditation’s power,
    I calmly view the wild surrounding storms
    Of life--its joys, its sorrows, and alarms;
  Then turn mine eyes towards yon celestial bower
  Where pleasure blooms, an amaranthine flower,
    And no foul speck the lovely scene deforms.
  When youth and health delusive hopes inspire
    Of lasting happiness, below the skies;
  Whene’er I feel the restless, fond desire
  Of earthly bliss, within my bosom rise;
  Ah, then be mine the hour of solitude,
  Far from the scenes which smile but to delude!




TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES


This text has been preserved as in the original, including archaic and
inconsistent spelling, punctuation and grammar, except as shown below.

Small capitals are shown herein as all capitals.

Obvious printer’s errors have been silently corrected.

Footnotes have been renumbered and then moved to directly below the
paragraph to which they belong.


[The end of _The Youth's Instructor (Issue 5 of 6)_ by anonymous]