ONE PENNY.

But the grand object of attraction in the neighbourhood of Shahjehanabad, is the Kootab Minar, a magnificent tower, two hundred and forty-two feet in height, which rises in the midst of the ruins of old Delhi, at the distance of nine miles south of the modern city. Bishop Heber thus describes his visit to it:

We went out at the Agra gate, and rode through the same dismal field of tombs which we had formerly traversed, escorted by three of Colonel Skinner's horse. Before we had cleared the ruins, another body of fifteen or twenty wild-looking horse, some with long spears, some with matlocks and matches lighted, galloped up from behind a large tomb, and their leader, dropping the point of his lance, said, that he was sent by the Raja of Bullumghur, "the fort of spears," to conduct me through his district. We did not require this additional escort, but as it was civilly intended, I, of course, took it civilly, and we went on together to a beautiful mausoleum, about five miles further, raised in honour of Sufter Jung, an ancestor of the king of Oude, who still keeps up his tomb, and the garden round it, in good repair. We did not stop here, but proceeded on elephants, which Mr. Elliott had stationed for us, leaving our horses under the care of the Bullumghur luwars. Our route lay over a country still rocky and barren, and still sprinkled with tombs and ruins, till, on ascending a little eminence, we saw one of the most extensive and striking scenes of ruins which I have met with in any country * The Kootab Minar, the object of principal attraction, is really the finest tower I have ever seen, and must, when its spire was complete, have been still more beautiful. The remaining great arches of the principal mosque, with their granite pillars, covered with inscriptions in the florid Cufic character, are as fine, in their way, as any of the details of York Minster. In front of the principal of these great arches is a metal pillar similar to that in Firoze Shah's castle, and several other remains of a Hindoo palace and temple, more ancient than the foundation of the Kootab, and which I should have thought striking, if they had not been in such a neighbourhood. A multitude of ruined mosques, tombs, serais, &c., are packed closely round, mostly in the Patan style of architecture, and some of them very fine. One, more particularly, on a hill, and surrounded by a wall with battlements and towers, struck me as peculiarly suited, by its solid and simple architecture, to its blended character,-in itself very appropriate to the religion of Islam,-of fortress, tomb, and temple. These Patans built like giants, and finished their work like jewellers. Yet the ornaments, florid as they are in their proper places, are never thrown away, or allowed to interfere with the general severe and solemn character of their edifices. The staircase within the great Minar is very good, except the uppermost story of all, which is ruinous, and difficult of access. I went up, however, and was rewarded by the very extensive view, from a height of 240 feet, of Delhi, the course of the Jumna for many miles, and the ruins of Toghlikabad, another giantly Patan foundation, which lay to the south-west.

This column, which is, probably, at this moment, the largest in the world, tends to the circular, its base being a polygon of twenty-seven sides. The structure is divided into four stories, at unequal distances, ornamented by a large cupola of red granite. The surface is fluted in three of the stories, having twenty-seven divisions partly semicircular and partly angular. The upper story is quite plain, and composed entirely of marble. Though exposed to the storms of centuries, the shaft has suffered, except at the summit, no perceptible injury; the minutest ornaments, and these are numerous and various, appear still as perfect as ever †.

It is not, known, (remarks Miss Roberts,) by whom or

A very tolerable account of it is given in Hamilton's India. + See the Oriental Annual for 1834. There are near the Cuttab

Minar, the remains of a much larger tower, which, if completed, would have been a most prodigious monument of human enterprise and labour. It is at its base nearly twice the circumference of the perfect tower, and has a winding passage, but without stairs, in the centre. It is not more than forty feet high, but, had it been finished in due proportion, it would have been one of the greatest artificial wonders in the universe, next to the large pyramid in the vicinity of Grand Cairo,

for what purpose this splendid monument as erected; and conjecture, weary of a hopeless task, is now content to permit its origin to remain in obscurity. According to the general supposition, it was erected in the thirteenth century; but this is not certain, nor can it be ascertained whether the founder was Moslem or Hindoo, though the majority of opinions inclines to the latter. The great architectural beauty of this wonderful building,-the height of the column, supposed to exceed that of any other in the world, its amazing strength, the richness of the materials, and the magnificence and variety of its embellishments, combine to render it the surpassing wonder of a land abounding in buildings of the highest degree of splendour and interest. The extraordinary elegance and grandeur of this remarkable tower have preserved it from the ruin with which it has been lately threatened; the government, anxious to preserve so valuable a relic of Indian antiquity, directed its restoration and repair,-a difficult and somewhat hazardous work, which has been admirably performed by Major Smith, of the Engineers. From the summit, which is ascended by a spiral staircase, the view is of the most sublime description; a desert, covered with ruins full of awful beauty, surrounds it on all sides, watered by the snake-like Jumna, which winds its huge silvery folds along the crumbling remains of palaces and tombs. In the back-ground rises the dark lofty walls and frowning towers of an ancient fortress, the strong-hold of the Patan chiefs; and the eye, wandering over the stupendous and still beautiful fragments of former grandeur, rests at last upon the white and glittering mosques and minarets of the modern city, closing in the distance, and finely contrasting, by its luxuriant groves and richly-flowering gardens, with the loneliness and desolation of the scene beneath.

This description of Delhi must not be concluded without a notice of the new suburb, lately erected to supply habitations for the increasing population of the city, and named after Mr. Trevelyan, its projector, Trevelyanpore. The plan of this new quarter has been much approved for its elegant simplicity, though of course there are divers opinions concerning it. The centre, a large quadrangle, called Bentinck Square, is entered by four streets, opening from the middle of each side. The whole extent of the streets, which are ninety feet in width, and the façade of the square, present an unbroken front of Doric columns, supporting a piazza behind, in which are commodious shops and dwelling-houses, ranged with great regularity. The four triangular spaces at the back, formed by the arms of the cross, are intended for stable and court-yards for the cattle and bullock-carts belonging to the inhabitants. The whole forms a very striking contrast with the ancient ruins by which it is surrounded.

Another place of great interest in the neighbourhood of the city is a gigantic astronomical observatory, supposed to be the work of Jey Sing, a Hindoo rajah, who flourished in the seventeenth century. The dial is still in good repair, a stupendous work, of which the gnomon, of solid masonry, is sixty feet high. It th is not, however, possible to convey any just idea by mere description of these enormous instruments.

With reference to the religious condition of Delhi, it may be mentioned that Bishop Heber gives this

notice in his Journal.

POPULAR ERRORS AND SUPERSTITIONS. No. VII.

ERRORS IN NATURAL HISTORY.

THE figure shown in the engraving, is a representation of one of those flinty stones so frequently found in gravel-pits; these stones are generally known by the name of thunderbolts, and are believed by many to come from the clouds; they are, however, petrified casts of the interior of the shell of several species of the Echinus, sea egg, sea hedgehog, the petrifying matter having occupied the place of the animal, while the chalky shell has perished by the action of the air, or by violence. The shells of the recent echini are frequently found on the sea-shore; when the animal is living, the outer part of their covering is furnished with numerous spines, which enable the creature to roll itself along at the bottom of the water; from this arises its name of the sea hedgehog.

There is a ridiculous belief in some parts of the country, that the hairs from a horse's tail, when dropped in the water, become endued with life; in England, this transformation is supposed to produce the Gordius aquaticus, a small thread-like worm, of a red colour, which is found in groups knotted together in the water. In Scotland, we understand, the product of the hair is supposed to be a small eel; we need scarcely say that both these ideas are perfectly erroneous. It is certainly puzzling, at first sight, to understand in what manner ponds or other pieces of water, in which previously no fish were known, should be suddenly found full of small eels; but the difficulty vanishes, on referring to the natural history of the eel tribe; there it will be seen, that they (the young eels in particular,) perform very long migrations over the moist grass, chiefly in the night-time; even fullgrown eels will leave their native element after dark,

in search of food.

The common snake and the blind-worm are supposed by many to be poisonous, but this is an error; there being no venomous reptile in Great Britain, except the viper, or adder.

It is a commonly-received opinion, that coals are to be found as near London as Blackheath, but that the seeking for them is forbidden, on account of the Newcastle coal-trade being so excellent a nursery for seamen. But geologists have ascertained that,

The great coal-field of Britain, which is composed of numerous subordinate coal-fields, crosses the island in a diagonal direction, the south boundary-line extending from near the mouth of the river Humber, to the south part of the Bristol channel, on the west coast; and the north boundary-line extending from the south side of the river Tay, in Scotland, westward, by the south side of the Ochil mountains, to near Dumbarton, on the river Clyde ; within these boundary-lines, North and South Wales are included. This area is about two hundred and sixty miles in length, and, on an average, about one hundred and fifty miles in breadth; and no coal-field of any consequence has been found, either to the north or south of the lines mentioned, excepting some small patches of thin coals of inferior quality; and the coal-field of Brora, in Sutherlandshire, in Scotland, which is far disjoined from any other coalfield.

ESSENTIAL SALT OF LEMONS,

(Binoxalate of potash.)

THE substance whose properties we are now going to describe, is known in commerce as the salt of sorrel; a name which is far more significant than that it more commonly but very improperly bears, namely, essential salt of lemons.

On a late occasion, when writing about oxalic acid *, we mentioned that it was contained in the juice of several kinds of plants, and especially in that of the Oxalis acetosella, or wood sorrel, and the Rumex acetosa, or common sorrel. We stated, also, that the acid, as procured from these and other plants, was generally combined with potash or lime; such combinations being called oxalates.

Now it happens that in both varieties of sorrel above mentioned, as well as in several others, which it is unnecessary here to enumerate, an oxalate of potash exists ready formed, and hence the origin of the name, salt of sorrel. Large quantities of it are prepared from the wood sorrel in Switzerland, and other neighbouring countries; about sixty or seventy pounds of the plant, when in full vegetation, yielding only five ounces of the crystallized salt.

The process by which the salt of sorrel is obtained, is very simple. The expressed juice of the leaves, being diluted with water, is suffered to remain at rest for a few days until the feculent parts have subsided, or, if greater despatch is necessary, it is clarified with the whites of eggs. When the liquor is sufficiently clear, it is drawn off and evaporated by boiling, until a pellicle appears on its surface. It is then set in a cool place to crystallize. When the first crop of crystals has been obtained, the liquor which remains is again evaporated and crystallized; and so the process continues, until no more of the salt can be separated.

The chemical name for salt of sorrel, as indicated at the head of this paper, is binoxalate of potash,— the prefix bin distinguishing it from two other salts formed by the union of oxalic acid and potash.

The first of these three compounds is the simple oxalate, consisting of one proportional of acid, and one of potash. It crystallizes in oblique four-sided prisms, which are cooling and bitter to the taste. Next in order is that under consideration, and, as its name imports, (bi, or bin, from a Latin word signifying two,) contains two proportionals of acid, and one of the base (potash). The crystals of this salt are small, of a needley form, and sometimes a little flattened. The last of these compounds is called quadroxalate, (from a Latin word signifying four,) and consists of four proportionals of acid united to one of potash. The first and last of these salts are little known excepting to chemists.

On

Binoxalate of potash (salt of sorrel) unites readily with several of the earths, as it does also, under certain circumstances, with most of the metals. account of this last-mentioned property, it is very generally employed in removing ink-spots and ironmoulds from linen,-one proportional of its acid uniting, in either case, with the iron present, and thus forming a soluble and colourless compound called oxalate of iron.

With sugar and water the salt of sorrel forms a pleasant beverage, and, in consequence of its having been substituted for lemons for purposes of this kind, it obtained the very absurd name of essential salt of

lemons.

However agreeable our acidulated drink may be which has been thus prepared, we by no means recommend it to those who have any regard

See Saturaay Magazine, Vol. X., p. 180.

THE mean depth of the sea is, according to La Place, from four to five miles. If the existing waters were encreased only by one-fourth, it would drown the earth, with the exception of some high mountains. If the volume of the ocean were augmented only by one-eighth, considerable portions of the present continents would be submerged, and the seasons would be changed all over the globe. Evaporation would be so much extended, that rains would fall continually, destroy the harvest, and fruits, and flowers, and subvert the whole economy of nature.

There is, perhaps, nothing more beautiful in our whole system than the process by which the fields are irrigated from the skies—the rivers are fed from

the mountains-and the ocean restrained within bounds, which it never can exceed so long as that process continues on the present scale. The vapour raised by the sun from the sea, floats wherever it is lighter than the atmosphere; condensed, it falls

upon the earth in water; or, attracted to the mountains, it gathers on their summits, dissolves, and perpetually replenishes the conduits with which, externally or internally, they are all furnished. By these conduits the fluid is conveyed to the rivers which flow on the surface of the earth, and to the springs which lie deep in its bosom, destined to supply man with a purer element.

If we suppose the sea, then, to be considerably diminished, the Amazon, and the Mississippi, those inland seas of the western world, would become inconsiderable brooks; the brooks would wholly disappear, the atmosphere would be deprived of its due proportion of humidity; all nature would assume the garb of desolation; the bird would droop on the wing, the lower animals would perish on the barren soil, and man himself would wither away like the sickly grass at his feet.

He must indeed be incorrigibly blind, or scarcely elevated in the scale of reason above the monkey, who would presume to say, or could for a moment honestly think, when duly informed on the subject, that the machinery by which the process of evaporation and condensation has been constantly carried on upon earth for so many centuries, exhibits no traces of Divine science and power, and especially of benevolence towards the countless beings whose subsistence and happiness absolutely depend upon the circumstance of the waters of the ocean, earth, and air, uniformly preserving the average of their present mutual proportions.-Quarterly Review.

BOOKS.-Use common-place books or collections, as indexes to light thee to the authors, lest thou be abused. He that takes learning upon trust, makes a fair cupboard with another's plate. He is an ill-advised purchaser, whose title depends more on witnesses than evidences.-Quarles.

It is our nature, when we do not know what may happen to us, to fear the worst that can happen; and hence it is, that uncertainty is so terrible, that we often seek to be rid of it, at the hazard of certain mischief.-Burke.

EXPEDITION TO THE BROCKEN THE Brocken was within fifteen miles of us, but we had been told that if the weather were unfavourable, the ascent would be a most fatiguing labour, and utterly fruitless, as nine times out of ten, the top of the mountain is so enveloped in clouds as to veil every object below in impenetrable mist. Our good star, however, still prevailed. The morning was not bright, but it was dry, and a brisk wind gave us hope that the remaining clouds might all be so completely blown off before evening, as to permit our seeing the sun-set brilliantly from the Witches' Orchestra.

We started at half past five for Ilsingbourg,-a wild-looking village, situated at the entrance of a narrow gorge, through which dashes a mountaintorrent, having there found a way from a spring amidst the mountains. A barren waste leads to it; a hundred hills, covered with tangled forests, fence it round; and high above their heads, rises the giant Brocken, amidst whose deep covers superstition has been cradled for ages.

At eleven o'clock, three mules were led to the garden-gate. Our guide had but one eye; but the expression of his other features was in no degree lessened by this misfortune; and if a kind and gentle nature could ever be unmistakenly read on any countenance, it was on his.

I will defy the boldest imagination that ever worked between throbbing temples, to picture forth a darker Ilsinbourg side of the Brocken. world than the eye looks upon, while scaling the Here and there, however, are spots of exquisite loveliness; and the uncertain humour of the weather increased their effect.

During about a third part of the ascent, traces of and in the huts of the charcoal-burners. At one human labour are visible, both in the felled timber, point in the early part of our progress, the guide stopped, and without saying a word, turned the head of my mule, making a signal to my companions to turn theirs. He then pointed aloft to a crag five hundred feet above our heads, on which stood a colossal cross of iron. It is quite necessary to be on such a spot, to conceive the sublime effect of this holy emblem, thus suddenly seen, as it were, in the

clouds.

As we mounted higher and higher, we crossed the noisy torrent by slight log bridges, which seemed just wide enough to fit the feet of the mule without and its awful bridges; and, with them, every trace an inch to spare. At length we quitted the stream, of a path. What must have been the horrible convulsion which has so scattered the surface of this mountain, and covered its sides with such gigantic yet loose masses of granite rock! One of these masses measured fifty-five feet in length and forty in breadth; its height was beyond our reach, but could not have been less than thirty feet. The most beautiful mosses "sheathed the terrors" of some of their sharp angles, but many were perfectly bare. every interval between them, enormous pines still lifted their dark heads, but their fringed branches no longer swept the ground. The stems were bare, and the wind moaned among the tops in sounds such as I never heard before. By degrees the trees ceased altogether; the mosses and lichens apparently ceased by detached, bare, dry, sun-whitened rocks, stretched with them; and a monstrous expanse, entirely covered upwards and all around, between which dark, brackish streams were heard, and occasionally seen, trickling down the mountain.

In

The scaling this hideous precipice was the most tremendous part of the expedition; but having