DOMESTIC HINTS AND RECEIPTS, takon to turn the taps at the right time, it is the pipes are not frozen in the street, and care is impossible that any stoppage can take place; and TO PREVENT THE FREEZING OF WATER might not be employed on a more extensive scale it is worthy of consideration if the same system to the street water-pipes of towns. PIPES. The trouble and inconvenience caused by the freezing of water-pipes, not only in the dwellings nthe towns but also in many of the large houses of the gentry, is very great. In parts of the Metropolis, during the present short visit of winter, thousands of houses have been "frozen out," and a complete water famine has raged. This has been partly caused by the service-pipes from the main having been laid too close to the surface. This the housekeepers are unable to prevent. But in other cases the evil has been caused by the want of attention in the washhouses and other parts of the premises, owing to the want of knowledge or care. In many instances the leaden service-pipes are placed for a long distance exposed to outward air instead of inside the buildings. In these cases straw and hay is often used for wrapping the pipes: it will, however, be found that oakum, easily made by the untwisting of old rope rolled carefully to the width of about a quarter of an inch round all parts of the leaden water-pipes likely to be affected by the frost resists a great deal of frost; but it is much better, in addition to this, to enclose the pipe and covering with a wooden case of thin deal-about four inches or four and a-half inches square, and then fill the inner space with sawdust tightly packed in. This is not attended with a great cost in the first instance; and if regularly tarred and painted, will last for years. In some old houses in St. Giles's, which have been made suitable for letting in tenements by the Earl of Shaftesbury's Association for Improving the Dwellings of the Industrial Classes, the lead service-pipe--protected in this way-has been passed outside each house four stories high, so that there might be a watersupply on each landing. These pipes have been in use four or five winters, and during that time the water has flowed in at all seasons. At the Model Lodging House, in Stratton Street, in the same neighbourhood, another method has been tried with success. In this building there is accommodation for a large number of families; each set of rooms is provided with a water cistern. It is evident that if the pipes are clear of water, no stoppage can be caused by the frost; it has, therefore, been arranged that a stop-cock is placed in a position which will prevent any water leaking from the main pipes when the service is not needed. From this stop-cock the pipe dips towards a point where there is a tap. The main watersupply having been turned off, it will be found that all the pipes made for supplying the different rooms are more or less filled with water; which, if left without protection, would be liable to freeze. In order to prevent the chance of this a tap is placed at the lowest point of the pipes; when this is turned, in less than one minute every drain of water is emptied from the pipes into the sewer. This plan might be carried into effect in all buildings, large or small, and by this means, if A [A is the stop-cock, to prevent the admission of water from the main. B, tap, which, when open, will clear the other pipes of water. C, pipe communicating with the various parts of premises.] To CLEAN SILK.-Dresses cleaned by the following method have not the appearance of being cleaned:-Quarter of a pound of honey; quarter of a pound of soft soap; two wineglasses of gin; three gills of boiling-water. Mix and let it stand until blood-warm. Spread the silk on a clean table, with a cloth under itthere must be no gathers. Dip a nail-brush into the mixture and rub the silk well, especially where there are stains, or the most dirt or spots, and with a sponge wet the whole breadth generally, and rub gently. Then rinse the silk in cold soft water; hang it up to drain, and iron it damp. The quantity stated is for a plain dress. CISTERN CEMENT. -Ashes two parts, three parts clay, one part sand, mixed with oil, will make a cement as hard as marble, and impenetrable by water for ever. BOOK-BINDING.-Some idea may be formed of the extent of the London book-binding trade in the nineteenth century, when we state that the weekly consumption of leaf gold enriching the exterior of books, amounts to about 3,600,000 square inches; and that the weight of paper shavings sold annually by the London binders, cut off the edges of books, amounts to 350 tons! A high medical authority has given the following simple restorative, which is generally within reach of all:-"I can state from experience," he says, "that a glass of milk and water, with a small teaspoonful of salt, is the best refreshment that a fatigued or famished person can take." REFRESHING DRINKS FOR THE SICK. Boil two ounces of harshorn shavings in one quart of water; when quite dissolved, set it aside to settle, and before it is cold, strain it through a tammy upon half a lemon, sliced thin, with sugar to taste; cover it, and let it remain till cold, mixing with it a glass of Moselle or French wine. Apple Water is very delicate. Cut two large apples in slices, and pour one quart of boiling water on them; or on roasted apples; strain in two or three hours, and sweeten lightly. Or, Peel and quarter four large rennet apples, or any other firm acid apples; put them in one quart of water, with the peel of half a lemon, and a handful of washed currants; let all boil for one hour, then strain. and add sugar to taste. Let it remain till cold. A little wine may be added to it when about to be drunk. worn; Thou hast fanned his hot brow and refreshed him anew, To thrust his keen sickle the golden stalks through. Thou has crept through the forest in winter's chill night, By the flickering stars and the moon's pallid light; When no murmur was heard in the stillness save thine, As thou shook'st the crisp snow from the towering pine. Thou hast wandered away to the crimson-tinged sky, When the setting sun's rays flashed triumphant on high, And the fleecy clouds looked in such bright masses rolled,. Like mountains of silver washed over with gold. Thou hast breathed o'er their beauty alone thy soft lay, Till they purpled, and faded, and melted away. Thou hast kissed the fair forehead of many a belle, And flirted-ah, Zephyr! we know it so well, With half of the nymphs, and the fairies beside, Who far in the woods by the brooklets abide. Thou hast furled the thick smoke from the grim battle-field, When the soldier lay stretched by his sword and his shield, And the heart that beat fiercely an hour before, toll'd. Float on, little Zephyr, float merrily on! Don't try to grow grand, or thy beauty is gone: Be ambitious, and swell to a tempest, and then Thou will never be loved or thought well of again. B. B. F. I HAVE a little dressing-room, But thence I see, what ought to be, For thro' its solitary pane No view of earth is given; But gazing high, 'mid starry sky, I catch a glimpse of Heaven. D.M. R. REMEMBER THE POOR. A MISERLY uncle, who, wealthy and stout, Tho' thou plainly dost tell me that duty is mine; LOOK UP. LEILA S. FAMILY COUNCIL. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE COUNCIL,It grieves us to say one word of discouragement 80 early in the New Year, but our Presidential duties compel us to observe that neither the Letters nor Definitions bear upon them the marks of advance. The holidays no doubt have had something to do with this falling off; several, indeed most all, bear the marks of haste, and plainly show that the Christmas and New Year's parties have prevented our esteemed Council from doing themselves justice. The best-always excepting those we publish-are from Emma S. P., C. S., H. A. J., Nina Gordon, Catherine M. P., Anna Hiltown, Captain J. R., Rosa F., and J. Eastman, -the others are sad failures. with their strength, and hopeful with their hope. Thus, instead of viewing them as teeming with mournful lessons of decay, you will find that one way or another they have answered a purpose, and only give place to nobler things. Here are lessons of hope-here are directions and incitements to the noblest endeavour. In society you will regard old friends with a great joy; you will look on the old beggar with a wise commiseration of his sorrow, for that he too was once young and full of hope, but now, being old and hopeless, the more is your need to comfort and soothe him, Thus age will be a fountain of the tenderest and most charitable or reverent feeling; childhood a perpetual stream of hope; manhood a strong inspiration to emulous endeavour. Every object in nature, animate and inanimate-the stars as they roll, and seasons as they pass-you will look on with a feeling that they once were young, that ON THE ADVANTAGES OF SIMPLICITY, AND CUL- they have answered, or still answer, a wise purTIVATING A CONTENTED SPIRIT. MY DEAR FRIEND, I have observed of late that you seemed discontented with your lot, and have purposed often to attempt removing the imaginary load of misery which depressed your mind. I say "imaginary because you are surrounded with every comfort, and have every incentive to hope and joy which mortals can ever hope to be blessed with. I ascribe your misery not altogether to a diseased mind-for there are none so joyful as you in the social bower-but to the false estimates you form, arising from the false views you take of things. Permit me, then, to offer a few suggestions, which may haply give a richer light to your sun, and a happier glow to your world. I would earnestly exhort you to cultivate "Simplicity" as a basis whereon to pile the superstructure of a contented mind. In defining the term, let me state that you know what a person means when he speaks of "looking to the sunny side of things." Well, this is much the same spirit which the sentiment of simplicity engenders. It looks to the childhood of things, as the astute intellect looks to their progress, and as the sublimed soul looks to their ends and purposes. Now it seems to me that you look too much "before," imagining that all manner of miseries shall eventually beset you and the things that are your's; thus inverting the constitution of your mind by putting, so to speak, the last first, and, in your maudlin credulity, the first last, you see a world in dotage. I could recommend you, if I am right in these conjectures, to a never-failing mine of solace ment-the Bible-that will tell you that "all is in a good hand; that it is for us to believe, love, and obey." I would further, for confirmation of the truths it inculcates as directly applicable to your case (for the Bible has al ife-giving word for each of us) bid you cast your eyes abroad, and look on things with the eye and heart of simplicity. You are fond of ancient monuments and the hoary ruins which environ your home; contemplate them as associated with your childhood, as fair flowers on the border of life; encourage a curiosity to learn the history of their origin, and wander delightedly down the vista of the past, till they become young again, till you can converse with the mighty of the days that are gone, grow strong pose. And what should disconcert you in the MY DEAR EMMA Exposed as you are to a social atmosphere in which so much that is artificial predominates, I cannot, as your true friend, forbear to warn you of the seductive nature of surrounding influences, and bid you beware of inhaling that which will prove fatal to all true nobility of soul and independence of purpose, as well as to any substantial peace of mind or enjoyment of life. Perhaps, my dear girl, I cannot more effectually aid you in this respect than by commending to your regard a principle directly opposed to all the hollow semblances and so-called refinements of fashionable society, I refer to that unassuming grace,-Simplicity. Those who all their lives have been starving out their intellectual and moral natures by a constant round of dissipation, and have been guided rather by the varying standard of public opinion, than any just appreciation of moral truth or beanty, may scorn the mention of simplicity, as a subject both dull and common-place. But their disapproval is no argument against it, and even in this their scorn we may suspect they are but partially sincere, for may not their habit of affectation extend even to this, and serve as a disguise for that envy which it is policy to conceal. And truly they may well envy the unfailing streams of satisfaction that flow from this fountain of simplicity, a fountain of nature's own filling, where her children drink and are refreshed. You, my dear young friend, I think need not be told that simplicity, far from being commonplace, is in fact so high an attainment that it constitutes the perfection of excellence. It may be termed the highway of genius, yet it is a path in which the lowly may walk and not err. It is the aim of the great masters of art in all departments, and constitutes the charm of their noblest performances; and why? because their eyes are fixed upon the great standard of perfection-Nature, who in all her works exhibits a majestic simplicity; and this very simplicity that nature herself employs is the key that unlocks the great secret of all true nobility of character, as well as all dignity and grace of manners; it also adds a charm to personal appearance more potent than the most costly ornaments. In looking at the moral bearing of the principle, we cannot fail to perceive how adapted it is to secure to our compound nature the development of the highest good. "Virtue is natural to the human mind," and the harmony that plays amongst the various faculties, when, hand in hand with simplicity it is allowed to exert its native power, shows something of the original grandeur of humanity, and proves that "he who made us bent us to the right." Simplicity may truly be said to be "the vase that contains the sacred treasure of virtue," preserving it pure from all vitiating alloy. "Tis further, the personification of truth, the sign of internal sincerity, and the guarantee of whatever is ingenuous and straightforward in the outward deportment; and thus it will ever be, for where all is frank and honest there can be no motive for concealment. Another advantage is, that it preserves our faculties unfettered from all conventional rules, and rids us from a thousand anxieties as to what a fickle world may think or say; thus it gives the mind leisure to repose itself, as well as opportunity to decipher its powers for the race of true excellence. Had this principle but scope to sway the sceptre which of right belongs to it, what a transformation would it effect on the face of society. Affectation would then be ashamed of her mask, and grow weary of her attempts to deceive, while candour and truth would impart a confidence to social intercourse which would cause the genial streams of peace and goodwill to flow from heart to heart. But, alas! we must own that in the existing state of things there seems but little chance for our meek-eyed grace. Simplicity, I fear, must still remain in the shade, and her whispered teachings be unheard except by the few, the multitude will still be dazzled by the superficial and showy, and grasp at the shadow instead of the substance. But, my dear friend, is it not consoling to reflect that there is a remedy for all the depravity and derangement that is at work amongst mankind? "Heaven's easy artless unencumbered plan"-Christianity, is the only grand restorative for a fallen world; knowing this, let us ask ourselves the important question, do we bow to its sway? are we guided by its unerring rule? If so, our eye will be single, our aim simple, and a spirit of humility and contentment will spread for us a continual feast; and we shall be blessed with that- "Which nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, A definition in lines.-LILY H. the dark intricacies of the heart.-ROSA F. The love which runs like a silver thread through The aim of sculptor and painter.-ALPHA. The types we use in sun printing.-ANNA H. Pencillings of the mind on the outward form. M. W. M. The first part of a great idea seen by the mind's eye.-H. A. J. The daughter of photography.-ALBERT S. hour of suffering.-STEPHANIE. The silvery tones of a well-known voice in the Glen Tilt, with the eagle espying.—CAPTAIN J. R. PROHIBITORY. The Decalogue.-L. W. and CATIE. Touch it if you dare.-M. A. and S., and BERTHA S. A single lady with a ring upon the wedding finger.-J. C. L. The face of a policeman to the beggar.-LEILA S. The monitions of conscience in a bad cause.W. Y. S. The sting of the wasp's address to unwary intruders.-ALEXANDER. The prerogative o' truth in settin' her claims aboon our selfish purposes.-ELSPIE. The moral which the bee of wisdom extracts from the weeds in the garden of folly.-J. T. "No thoroughfare, by order of the Lord Mayor." -CECILIA. "Don't touch it, it is not yours."-ELSIE. The warnings of conscience.-NINA GORDON. Thus far shalt thou go, and no further.LILY H. Now, Massa Teddy, don't be pullin de needles out of yer sister's knittin'.-Tir. Mamma's shake of the head.-CHOTIC. Touch not, taste not, handle not.-CHOTIC ALPHA, and NELLIE. A custom-house officer. No followers allowed.-ALBERT S. "If she will, she will, you may depend on it; Persisting in having the last word.-J. C. L. The reprobate's watch-word.-J. C. The keenest weapon in the annals of human strife.-PINK. The unruly sheep which misleads the flock.ELSPIE. "No I wont," accompanied with a slight stamp of the little foot.-LILLIE DAISIE. A disposition of the coltish order.-LILY H. The spoilt child's "I don't care."-ROSA F. The conduct of some young gentlemen on mistletoe night.-H. A. J. The vagaries of the human heart.-ALBERT S. Extravagance of every kind.-J. E. An impetuous torrent of nature ever ready to break out unless controlled-STEPHANIE. "I will do as I please."-AGNESE. the age, And perfect the language you find in each page; Whether out with his Rambler you venture to roam, Or stay with his Rasselas, shut up at home. b. When tired of his numbers, I'd have you to name, An Archbishop of Ireland recorded by fame, Whose writings will ever be held in esteem, By those who make sacred religion their theme. c. Next remember the writer, whose delicate lay, Deserved from Apollo a chaplet of bay; Who, in Hagley's sweet groves for his Lucy did My first is a male bird; my second is a fish; and my whole is a despised insect.-E. H. |