March 1852.

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The lecture experiment at the Museum of Practical Geology, in Jermyn Street, has proved eminently successful. There were a thousand more applications for tickets than could be supplied, in consequence of which the executive very wisely determined, that the course should be repeated until the demand was satisfied. This fact of numbers speaks highly in favour of the working-men of London—none others are admitted to the course here referred to; and once having got the knowledge, it is to be hoped they will be able to turn it to good account. One of the lecturers told me, that the hall is always crowded, and that a better-behaved auditory has seldom been seen in any quarter, which we may consider to be an encouraging sign of the times. The other courses are also going on for those who are able to pay high fees, and attend during the day. The titles of a few of the lectures will give you an idea of the nature of the instruction offered; namely—The Relations of Natural History to Geology and the Arts; On the Value of an Extended Knowledge of Mineralogy and the Processes of Mining; On the Science of Geology and its Applications; On the Importance of Special Scientific Knowledge to the Practical Metallurgist; and On the Importance of Cultivating Habits of Observation. You must remember, that the institution is a government school of mines as well as a museum of geology.

In connection with this, it may be mentioned that the Society of Arts are discussing a project for the 'affiliation' of all the literary, philosophical, scientific, and mechanics' institutions throughout the kingdom, with a view to render them less languid and more beneficial than too many of them now are. Unity of purpose effected wonders with the Great Exhibition; and it is thought that the same cause should produce a similar result in the educational and recreative establishments alluded to. There is a talk, also, of an assembling of most of the learned societies of our great city under one roof—a sort of Palace of Science, which has long been wanting in London, but which has long existed in Paris. Should this scheme be carried out, the philosophers might then adopt Brother Jonathan's motto—E pluribus unum. And, next, the Suburban Artisan School of Drawing and Modelling, established last year at Camden-Town, has succeeded so well that the committee, with Prince Albert as patron, have determined to establish four additional schools in our other suburban districts. These schools are to be open every evening for instruction, at a charge per month of 2s. No working-man in the metropolis after this need be ignorant of drawing. Then, again, a 'Department of Practical Art' is organised in connection with the Board of Trade, which, by means of travelling and stationary superintendents, and other officers, is to assist in the development of artistic talent, and its application to useful purposes, wherever it may be found.

Co-operation of some sort or other is the order of the day; and now a good deal of attention is excited by the announcement of an 'AthenÆum Institute for Authors and Artists,' something different from the Guild of Literature and Art set afoot last winter, the object being to endeavour to form an incorporated association of the two classes mentioned—of course for their common benefit. The aid of the possessors of rank and wealth is to be asked at starting, because, as the promoters say, 'we think literature has a right to ask the assistance of these other two great powers of society, because it so materially assists them; and because, in many of its branches, it has no other mode of being paid by society. The severely scientific, the highly imaginative, the profoundly legislative authors, do not produce promptly marketable, though they produce priceless, works. La Place, Wordsworth, Bentham, could not have existed had they depended on the first product of their works; they would have perished before an acknowledging world could have given them bread.' They say, further, that 'the humblest literary man works for something more than hire, and produces something more effective than a mere piece of merchandise. His book is not only sold to the profit of the bookseller, but to the benefit of the public. The publisher pays for its mercantile value, but the public should reward the author for its moral and social effect, as they take upon themselves to punish, if it have an evil tendency.'

Whether the promoters are right or wrong in their views, will be best proved by the result; meantime, they put forth some good names as provisional president, vice-president, and managers, and propose that the Institute shall comprise four branches—namely, a Protective Society, a Philanthropic and Provident Fund, an Educational Association, and a Life-Assurance Department. The subscribers are to consist of two classes: those who give contributions for the benefit of the Institute, and those who seek to benefit themselves. The former are to be asked to insure their lives, for different rates of premium, the amounts to fall into the corporation at the decease of the subscribers; and thus a fund would be raised out of which, on certain conditions, participating subscribers would be able to secure a provision for old age, or premature decay of mental power, the means of educating their children, and leaving a solatium to their widows. If all this can be carried out, and if literary men, as a class, are capable of all that the prospectus of the new scheme implies, how much of distress and heart-breaking misery will be saved to society!

There are several subjects which, having recently been brought before our Horticultural Society, have somewhat interested gardening folk. At one of the meetings, there was exhibited 'a very fine specimen of common mignonette,' which 'was stated to have been a single plant pricked out into a pot in January 1851, and shifted on until it had attained a large size. It was mentioned, that mignonette is not an annual, as many imagine it to be; but that it will become a woody shrub, and last for years, provided it is well managed, and kept free from frost and damp.' So runs the report in the society's journal.

There was, likewise, an exhibition of black Hamburg grapes by Mr Fry, a Kentish gardener, who made thereupon some observations, which appear to be deserving of wider circulation. The grapes were grown in a building seldom heated artificially, and were much attacked by mildew during the last two seasons, on which prompt measures were taken to diffuse perfectly dry 'sulphur vivum' throughout the house by means of a sulphurator, until fruit and foliage were completely but lightly coated. 'Fires were lighted, and the temperature kept up to from 80 to 90 degrees, ventilation being considerably diminished, and water in any form discontinued. After being subject to this treatment for about four or five days, the vines received a thorough syringing, which cleansed them from every particle of sulphur. With respect to the use of sulphur in killing mildew, many ladies and gentlemen,' adds Mr Fry, 'with whom I have conversed, consider it highly objectionable: they say, that they do not like the idea of eating sulphur with grapes; neither would any one, and I can prove to them that this need never be done; and, moreover, that the use of sulphur, when timely and judiciously applied, does not in any way deteriorate the fruit. I much question if the most practised eye could detect sulphur on the grapes exhibited, although they have been twice covered with it; and as to the mildew itself among vines, I fear it no more than I do green-fly among cucumbers, which is so soon deprived of existence by the fumes of tobacco.'

What is called 'a French sulphurator,' whose great merit appears to be 'simplicity and cheapness,' was also exhibited. It is described as 'a tin box for holding the sulphur, placed on the upper side of the pipe of a pair of common bellows. The sulphur gets into the pipe through small holes made for the purpose in the bottom of the box, and, in order that no stoppage may take place, a small hammer-head attached at the end of a slight steel-spring, is fixed on the under side of the bellows, a gentle tap from which, now and then, keeps up a continuous fall of sulphur into the pipe.' It is said, that 'these appliances, which may be attached to a pair of bellows for little more than sixpence, answer every purpose for which they are intended, equally as well as a more expensive machine.'

At the same time with this contrivance, some bunches of black Prince Grapes were shewn to the assembled horticulturists, which could only be preserved from mildew by frequent applications of sulphur. The bunches are to be afterwards cleaned by dipping in water, or what is considered preferable, 'syringing on all sides with a fine syringe,' which process, it is well to remember, disturbs the bloom on the fruit least when directed 'downwards, or obliquely, as rain would fall.'

As the season for gardening operations is coming on, Mr Rivers' account may be mentioned of his mode of growing strawberries in pots; it will be found to involve certain combinations opposed to ordinary practice. 'About the second week in July,' he says, he filled a number of six-inch pots 'with a compost of two-thirds loam, and one-third rotten dung, as follows: three stout pieces of broken pots were placed in the bottom, and a full handful of the compost put in; a stout wooden pestle was then used with all the force of a man's arm to pound it, then another handful and a pounding, and another, till the pot was brimful, and the compressed mould as hard as a barn-floor. The pots were then taken to the strawberry-bed, and a runner placed in the centre of each, with a small stone to keep it steady. They were watered in dry weather, and have had no other care or culture. For two or three years, I have had the very finest crops from plants after this method, and those under notice promise well. If the pots are lifted, it will be apparent that a large quantity of food is in a small space. I may add, that from some recent experiments with compressed earth to potted fruit-trees, I have a high opinion of its effect, and I fully believe that we have yet much to learn on the subject.'

There is a committee sitting at the Admiralty, to devise a method for the uniform lighting of ships and steamers at night, the object being to diminish the chances of accident or error to vessels at sea. And apropos of this, Mr Babbage has published a plan which will effectually prevent one lighthouse being mistaken for another: it is, that every lighthouse, wherever situated, shall have a number—the numbers not to run consecutively—and no two adjoining lights to have the same numeral digits in the same place of figures. There would then be no need for revolving or flashing lights, as the only thing to be done would be to make each lighthouse repeat its own number all night long, or whenever it was illuminated. This is to be 'accomplished by enclosing the upper part of the glass cylinders of the argand burner by a thin tube of tin or brass, which, when made to descend slowly before the flame, and then allowed suddenly to start back, will cause an occultation and reappearance of the light.' The number of occultations denotes the number of the lighthouse. For instance, suppose the Eddystone to be 243, the two is denoted by two hidings of the light in quick succession; a short pause, and four hidings; another short pause, and three hidings, followed by a longer pause; after which the same process is repeated. It would not be easy to make a mistake, for the numbers of the lighthouses nearest to the Eddystone would be very different; and supposing that the boy sent aloft to watch for the light were to report 253 instead of 243, without waiting to correct his view, the captain, by turning to his book, would perhaps find that No. 253 was in the Straits of Sunda, or some equally remote situation, and would easily recognise the error. When we take into account the number of vessels lost by mistaking one lighthouse for another, the value of this proposal becomes apparent. Mr Babbage shews, that bell-strokes might be employed to announce the number of a beacon in foggy weather; and he believes that the time is not far distant when buoys will also be indicated by a light. Now that lighthouse dues are to be reduced one-half, we may hope to see improvement in more ways than one.

This is but a small part of what promises more and more to become a great question—that of navigation. It is felt that, in these go-ahead days, we must be paying not less attention to our maritime than to our inland arm of commerce; and this has brought the question of wood versus iron ships again into prominent notice. The advocates of iron shew that the dry-rot, so destructive to wood, cannot enter metal; that lightness and speed, those prime essentials, are insured by the use of iron; that iron ships are safer, more easily repaired, and cheaper than vessels built of wood; and that they are more lasting. The chief objection hitherto has been the liability of iron to become foul in tropical climates; but this now appears to be in a measure overcome. According to Mr Lindsay: 'An admixture has been applied, termed "Anti-Sargassian Paint," which has been found to answer the purpose better than any yet discovered. From the experience of its properties, we cannot say that in itself it is yet sufficient; but it appears a fair substitute till some other preparation is discovered. A gentleman at Glasgow,' he adds, 'has already discovered a compound, which, being mixed in a fluid state with the iron, is expected to answer the desired purpose. There is another disadvantage which will soon be overcome—the greater liability to error in the compasses of iron ships; an error which, however, also occurs, though perhaps to a less extent, in every wooden ship. By a most ingenious invention, which will shortly be made public, such errors in any ships, under any circumstances, can at all times be at once detected.'

An important patented process for producing tapered iron, has been explained before the Franklin Institute at Philadelphia—one by which every variety of taper may be produced, or combinations of taper, with flat or other forms; and seeing how much tapered iron is used on railways, in many kinds of machinery, in ships and steamers, the subject may be considered worthy of more than a mere passing notice. Tapered iron is a form to which machinery has been thought inapplicable, and only to be produced by hand-labour. The new method, however, which has been successfully carried into practice at the Phoenixville Ironworks, is thus described: 'The principle on which it acts is that of hydrostatic pressure, or, more properly, hydrostatic resistance. A small chamber, similar to that of the common hydrostatic press, is set on the top of each housing; the closed end of the press being uppermost, and a plunger entering from below; but instead of water being forced into the press, the chamber is at first filled with water, and the pressure of the iron in passing between the rollers, tends to lift the top one, which is held down by the plunger. An escape-pipe, provided with a valve, is inserted into the top of the chamber. When any upward pressure acts on the top roller, it is communicated by the plunger to the water, which escapes through the valve, and the roller rises.

'When the valve is partially closed, the water escapes more slowly; and the rise of the roller, and consequently the taper of the iron, are more gradual.

'Any rate of taper may thus be had by regulating the rise of the opening of the escape-valve. If the water is all driven out before the bar is entirely through the rollers, the top roller ceases to rise, and the iron becomes parallel from that point. Then, if the ends of the bar be reversed, and it be again passed between the rollers, the parallel portion will become tapered; thus we can get a bar.'

At the same time, a 'Thermometrical Ventilator' was exhibited, which is described as circular in form, with a well-balanced movable plate. 'Upon the side of the valve is an inverted syphon, with a bulb at one end, the other being open; the lower part of the tube contains mercury; the bulb, atmospheric air. An increase of temperature expands the air in the bulb, drives the mercury down one side and up the other, thereby destroying the balance, and causing the valve to open by turning on its axis. A diminution of temperature contracts the air in the bulb, causes the mercury to rise in the side of the tube, and closes the valve.' Besides this, there was 'an improved magneto-electric machine, for medical use, with a new arrangement, by which the shock is graduated by means of a glass tube, in which a wire is made to communicate with water, so as to produce at first a slight shock; by gradually pressing down the wire attached to a spiral spring, the shock is received in its full force.'

It now appears that Mr Robertson of Brighton claims priority of discovery touching the boring power of Pholades. His statements are founded on daily observation of the creatures at work for three months. 'The Pholas dactylus' he says, 'makes its hole by grating the chalk with its rasp-like valves, licking it up, when pulverised, with its foot, forcing it up through its principal or bronchial syphon, and squirting it out in oblong nodules. The crypt protects the Pholas from confervÆ, which, when they get at it, grow not merely outside, but even within the lips of the valves, preventing the action of the syphons. In the foot there is a gelatinous spring or style, which, even when taken out, has great elasticity, and which seems the mainspring of the motions of the Pholas dactylus.'

At last, steam communication with Australia seems about to become a reality, for the first vessel is announced to start in May for Sydney, to touch at the Cape and other colonies on her way out; and accommodation is promised for two hundred passengers of different classes. There is also a project on foot for a line of steamers from Panama to Australia, and to Valparaiso, which, if brought into operation, will make a voyage round the world little more than a bagman's journey. Apropos of Australia, Mr Clarke, who first predicted that gold would be found in that country, says, 'that just 90 degrees west of the auriferous range in Australia, we find an auriferous band in the Urals; and just 90 degrees west of the Urals, occur the auriferous mountains of California.' A speculation for cosmogonists. In our own country, we are finding metalliferous deposits: vast accumulations of lead-ore have come to light in Wales, which are said to contain six ounces of silver, and fifteen hundredweight of lead to the ton; and in Northamptonshire, an abundant and timely supply of iron-ore has just been met with. We might perhaps turn our metallic treasures to still better account, if some one would only set to work and win the prize offered by Louis Napoleon; namely, 'a reward of 50,000 francs to such person as shall render the voltaic pile applicable, with economy, to manufactures, as a source of heat, or to lighting, or chemistry, or mechanics, or practical medicine.' The offer is to be kept open for five years, to allow full time for experiment, and people of all nations have leave to compete. One of the electric telegraph companies intends to ask parliament to abolish the present monopoly as regards the despatch of messages; in another quarter, an under-sea telegraph to Ostend is talked about, with a view to communicate with Belgium independently of France; and there is no reason why it should not be laid down, for the Dover and Calais line is paying satisfactorily. And, finally, another ship-load of 'marbles' and sculptures has just arrived from Nineveh; and the appointment of Mr Layard as Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs (though now but temporary) is regarded as a praiseworthy recognition of his merits and services; and now that we have a government which combines a few littÉrateurs among its members, it is thought that literature will be relieved of some of its trammels.