we came to a well of excellent water; a short distance above which is a small ruined chapel. About half-way up was a verdant and pleasant spot, in the midst of which stood a high and solitary palm, and the rocks rose in a small and wild amphitheatre around. We were not very long now in reaching the summit, which is of limited extent, having two small build the Greek name of horse-shoes, which signifies something bound on, and is also applied to shoes or sandals worn by men. These were perhaps artificially fixed to the hoofs, and the fastenings of them concealed under the hairs of the fetlock. With this conjecture the term induere, to put on as a garment, used by Pliny in speaking of the mules of Pappoa, the wife of Nero, and the facility of a shoe's being drawn offings on it, used formerly by the Greek by sticking in the mud, alluded to by Catullus, is much greater in one plated over the hoof, than in one fastened by nails. Besides, these plated shoes, which covered the entire hoofs, were adapted to make a more glittering appearance than if nailed at the bottom of the feet only; more especially when made of silver or gold. We have no evidence of the practice of nailing on shoes having been known among the ancients, but the illumination of an old manuscript found by Vossius, who has not told us the date of it. The earliest instance that may be depended upon that occurred to Mr. Rogers, who took some pains in investigating this subject, was in the time of Childeric, king of France, who died A. D. 481. A part of the shoe was found which belonged to the horse that was interred with his master, Childeric. It was made of iron, pierced for nine nails, and was taken up at Tournay, May 27, 1655, with many other things. mon, Since writing the above, we have seen a passage in Suetonius, which proves that the practice of shoeing mules was so comthat Vespasian exacted a part of the price paid for it. There is a line in Plautus which alludes to this custom, but the sentiment contained in it shows, that the materials commonly used for that purpose were soft, so that the injury inflicted by a kick from that animal was comparatively harmless. Their shoes, then, differed essentially from those used at present among us. MOUNT SINAI. MR. CARNE writes:- On the third morning we set out early from the convent for the summit of Mount Sinai, with two Arab guides. The ascent was, for some time, over long and broken flights of stone steps, placed there by the Greeks. The path was often narrow and steep, and wound through lofty masses of rock on each side. In about half an hour, pilgrims, probably for worship. But Sinai has four summits, and that of Moses stands almost in the middle of the others, and is not visible from below, so that the spot where he received the law must have been hid from the view of the multitudes around; and the smoke and flame, which, Scripture says, enveloped the entire Mount Sinai, must have had the more awful appearance, by reason of its many summits and great extent; and the account delivered gives us reason to imagine that the summit or scene where God appeared was shrouded from the hosts around; as the seventy elders were permitted to behold "the body of heaven in its clearness, the feet of sapphire," &c. But what occasions no small surprise, at first, is the scarcity of plains, valleys, or open places where the children of Israel could have stood conveniently to behold the glory of the Mount. From the summit of Sinai you see only innumerable ranges of rocky mountains. One generally places, in imagination, around Sinai, extensive plains, or sandy deserts, where the camp of the hosts was, where the families of Israel stood at the doors of their tents, and the line was drawn round the mountain, which no one might break through on pain of death. But it is not thus: save the valley by which we approached Sinai, about half a mile wide, and a few miles in length, and a small plain we afterwards passed through, with a rocky hill in the middle, there appear to be few open places around the Mount. We did not, however, examine it on all sides. On putting the question to the superior of the convent, where he imagined the Israelites stood: "Every where," he replied, waving his hands about—" in the ravines, the valleys, as well as the plains." JOHN DAVIS, 56, Paternoster Row, London. W. TYLER, Printer, Bolt-court, Fleet-street. THE AOUDAD, OR MOUFLON A . (Ovis tragelaphus.) THE high mountain tracts and rocky deserts, in every quarter of the globe, are inhabited by various species of mouflons or wild sheep, which have little in common with the reclaimed animal, as it exists under the immediate influence of man. Active, bold, and vigorous, they climb the most precipitous elevations, where they defy the hunter to follow them. Instead of being encumbered with a fleece, they are clad with hair, which, in such as inhabit the VOL. III. warmer latitudes, is short; in most, however, it is coarse, straight, and thickly set. The tail is always short; a circumstance the more remarkable when we consider the enormous size to which this appendage attains in some countries, and the additional but irregular number of the vertebral bones of which, in all the tame breeds, it is composed. The domestic race is generally acknowledged to be descended from the wild mouflon, which inhabits the mountain regions of southern Europe, especially Corsica, Sardinia, Turkey in Europe, and the isles of Greece: when it was reclaimed, Q Q or how, is beyond our research. We read in Genesis iv. that Abel was a keeper of sheep, and offered the firstlings of his flock in sacrifice. The argali is another wild species; it inhabits the southern parts of Siberia and Tartary. The high mountains in the northern regions of Canada produce the mountain mouflon, (ovis montana,) nor are the alpine districts of India destitute of their peculiar species. Mr. Hodgson, whose researches among the mammalia of Nepal are of the highest value to the naturalist, informs us that he has "ascertained, by living specimens, the existence of two kinds of wild sheep in the Himalayan region; one a variety of the argali, (ovis ammon,) the other of ovis musmon. The native name of the former is Ban-bhera; literally, wild sheep; that of the latter is Nayour, or Na'hoor."-(See Proceedings of the Zoological Society.) The species, however, of which we give a figure at the head of the present article, is a native of the rocky deserts of Barbary, and the northern coast of Africa. Its name, in the Arabic dialect of that country, is Aoudad; but from the tufts of hair which hang like ruffles round the fore-knees, it is called by the French "Mouflon a Manchettes." Unreclaimed from its independent freedom, this native of the desert avoids the sight of man, and the precincts of his dwelling, confining itself to the wild ranges of the hilly country, where it finds a secure asylum. Of all the mouflons it is the rarest, or one of the rarest, in our European museums, and still less frequently has it been brought alive to our quarter of the globe. A female was lately living in the gardens of the Zoological Society, the only example in England, and perhaps in Europe; it has, however, lately died. In its manner, as it is observed in captivity, the aoudad resembles the rest of its genus, being quiet and easily familiarized, but by no means remarkable for intelligence. In its aspect, however, it has that air of native and inwrought independence which strikingly distinguishes between it and the domestic sheep, and which invariably characterizes every wild original of a stock born and bred in subjugation. In proof of this opinion, we need only turn to those animals of our own climate, with which we are well acquainted, both in a state of freedom and captivity. How easily is the wild rabbit to be distinguished from the tame! the one is quick, watchful, rapid, with short oval ears, with small and compact head, and with every limb cleanly turned and vigorous; the other, a captive descendant of a captive race, betrays the effects of thraldom in every movement: a subdued expression of countenance, large ears and head, and large but sluggish limbs at once distinguish it. The same observations will apply to the goose and the duck, which we know both in the tame and wild condition. No animal exceeds the aoudad in acti vity; its leaps appear as if performed by magic. Without any previous movement, it will spring perpendicularly to the height of several feet, stand secure on a projection where foot-room is scarcely discernible, throw itself down steep precipices, bound from ledge to ledge, or rock to rock, with fearless confidence and the utmost precision. With regard, however, to the minuter details of its habits and manners nothing is ascertained. It is occasionally shot by the Moors of Tunis, Tripoli, and other places on the same line of coast, and is regarded by the natives as venison. Its food consists of mountain herbage. The general colour is a dull yellowish brown; the horns are stout, ringed, and curved simply backwards. Besides the ruffles at the foreknees, long coarse hairs hang from the neck and chest. In size this rare and curious animal exceeds a full-grown goat. MY TONGUE. W. How much reason have we to pray for the right use of the tongue! This "little member" is of mighty power, for evil and for good. The apostle James has some most remarkable expressions concerning it, chap. iii. 3—12. No historian can recount the moral havoc which unbridled tongues have wrought. As we have dedicated to God our whole bodies, as part of our "living sacrifice," so we have especially surrendered to his service this important organ. How shall we use it, so as to glorify him? Let not the reader dismiss this question lightly. In thinking of the history of the church, and the way in which the kingdom of God has been promoted, from the first day until now, I have been much impressed by the thought, that private conversation has been a powerful instrument. I do not mean to set it as high as the public ordinance of preaching. But after tnis it holds a high place. The early process of christianity was, as our Saviour expressively taught, like leaven. A little insignificant morsel of sour dough sets the whole mass in fermentation. Let it make but a beginning, no matter in what point, and the work is sure to go on. It is of the very nature of the leaven to do so, and it does not stop till the whole lump has been transformed. So of the kingdom of God-which is not external, but withinwhich is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. Let one man really come under this influence of the kingdom; let it really come within him, and his heart is a centre from which a thousand other hearts are to be affected. How? Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. This one believer, having a heart full of faith and love, will speak to his neighbour. The opinions of mankind are very much made up of what one man says to his neighbour. A good word is a morsel of leaven in the lump. The speaker may mean little; but he drops a truth; and this truth works after he is gone. The speaker may never know it, but the work goes on. He may go far away, but the operation continues. He may die and go to heaven, but his works follow him. From one to another, from neighbourhood to neighbourhood, yea, from generation to generation, the good leaven may spread in its influence. Therefore it may not be impossible that words dropped by the reformers are not lost to this day in their influence. wheat, with which most persons are familiar, as it is often cultivated by farmers as fodder for their cattle; and cannot fail to interest the eye of the passenger by the beautiful livery in which it adorns the field, and by the swarms of the winged tribe that it attracts to feed on the honey of its flowers. On the margin of every pool, at the bottom of ditches dry in summer, or wherever moisture lodges, may be found the spotted snakeweed, known by its red spike of flowers, and its spotted leaves. In its company, may also be usually seen the water-pepper; distinguished from the former by its thin flowered, nodding spike, and by growing in larger quantities. If we cast our eyes upon the still surface of a pond, in some secluded spot where limpid waters are flowing, a shoal of floating leaves, garnished here and there with a spike of red flowers, may sometimes be descried: this is the polygonum amphibium, or narrow-leaved pond-weed. If in passing through a corn-field, we examine the straw, we shall often meet with the polygonum convolvulus, or black bindweed, known by its delicate twining stem, little pink flowers, and its elegant heart-shaped leaves. On every pathway we find the knotgrass, or polygonum aviculare, the seeds of which are very grateful to birds, and are often eaten by boys. Any of these species just cited, will serve as examples to illustrate our notion of the family before us. A little examination will show, that the flower consists of a coloured calyx, divided into several segments, bearing the stamens from its base; that the germen is simple, either naked or covered with the permanent calyx, and superior in reference to the flower. The stigmas are several. If after poring a few moments over one of the species just enumerated, we turn to the dock, we shall be interested by the similarity between them. First, we perceive that the stamens proceed from the same situation, that their number is between five and ten, and that the calyx invests the naked seed, which is surmounted by three stigmas. If the flowers be too small for patience nicely to scrutinize, a very obvious similitude will be easily perceived in a filmy appendage at the base of the leaves, which is called the stipula. Two species of dock are commonly seen growing on road-sides and among rubbish: the curled dock, which has long lance-shaped leaf curled at the edges; and each leaf of the calyx A TYPE of this order may be sought with a red head upon it; and the broadfor in the polygonum fagopyrum or buck-leaved dock, which has long narrow Most professors of religion are negligent with respect to the tongue. Some are so filled with the world, that they speak only of the world. Some follow the fashion of the world, and it is the fashion of the world never to speak of Christ. Some are ashamed to speak of divine things. Some are afraid to honour their Master with their lips. Let me humbly ask the reader to consider the following rules: 1. I will endeavour to use my tongue for the glory of Christ. 2. I will endeavour to say something worth remembering, and something good for the soul, in every company. 3. I will endeavour to say something for my Master to every individual with whom I converse; unless I see it to be more plainly my duty to be silent. 4. I will endeavour to find and make opportunities of speaking for God. 5. I will ask the grace of God to prepare the way, to direct, and to bless, in all these endeavours. BOTANY.-No. XV. POLYGONEÆ. N-R. teeth upon edges of the calyx, and only | the mouth of a dark recess about four feet one with a head. The last species is a very troublesome weed to farmers, from the vivacious nature of the root, which nothing but fire can destroy. It seems that several species of the dock are useful in disorders of the external surface, either taken as an infusion or applied to the part affected. It is not improbable that the herb ointments applied by some old ladies to sores in the country, are mainly composed of some species of this genus. An infusion of the rumex patientia, or herb patience, is copiously used in the hospitals in France, as a drink in divers disorders that result from an ill habit of body. The last we shall make a descriptive allusion to, shall be the rheum undulatum, or rhubarb of domestic cookery, the leaf and stalks of which are made into agreeable tarts, ere the highly valued gooseberry is ripe for use. When apprised of it, the reader will not fail to recognise a strong resemblance between the rhubarb and the dock; and this relationship is brought within a closer compass, when we observe that the acidity of the sorrel (rumex acetosa) and that of the rhubarb are owing to the presence of oxalic acid. Not only among the splendid and august parts of creation, are the wisdom and goodness of the Creator displayed; but even among objects of humbler port, he incites our curiosity by the harmonies of structure and property, and rewards our investigations with some discovery that proves conducive to the well-being of man. WEYER'S CAVE, IN NORTH AMERICA. WEYER'S CAVE is found in a ridge of limestone hills, running parallel with the Blue Ridge. In going to it you pass by Madison's Cave, which was once an object of much interest, but is now neglected, from the greater attractions of the one we are about to explore. You ascend the side of the hill by a zig zag path of about 150 yards long, and then find yourself opposite a wooden door, which is the entrance, and having a bench, on which you rest, to get cool, or to prepare otherwise for the ingress. Having passed the door, you find yourself in a small cave, which may be regarded as a lobby to the whole apartments. With raised expectations, you look about you, by the aid of the daylight, which is struggling to enter, for some openings more considerable. All that you see, however, is square; and you are told this is your passage onward. You have no alternative, but to double yourself up in the smallest possible dimensions, and move along, after the lights of your guide, as well as you may, by the assistance of your hands. Having scrambled along for about twenty-five feet, you come into some larger openings, which allow you the free use of your person. You look upward and around you, and find yourself surrounded by the most grotesque figures, formed, through ages, by the percolation of the waters through the heavy arches of rock-work over your head; while the eye, glancing onward, catches the dim and distant glimmer of the lights; some in the deeps below, and some in the galleries above. On quitting these smaller rooms and galleries, you enter an ascending passage, of easy access; and, on coming to its extremity, you see the opening of a large cavern spread before you, and the commencement of some steps, by which you are to descend. Your care is engaged in getting safely down; but when you have obtained your standing on the floor, you are delighted to find yourself in a large cavern, of irregular formation, and full of wild beauty. It is about thirty by fifty feet, and is called Solomon's Temple. The incrustations become finer here. At your right hand, they hang just like a sheet of water, that had been frozen as it fell. There they rise before you in a beautiful stalac titic pillar; and yonder they compose an elevated seat, surrounded by sparry pinnacles, which sparkle beautifully in the light The one is called Solomon's Throne, and the other his Pillar. On leaving the Temple you enter another room, more irregular, but more beautiful. Besides having ornaments in common, it spreads over you a roof of most admirable and singular formation It is entirely covered with stalactites, which are suspended from it like inverted pinnacles. They are of the finest material, and are most beautifully shaped and embossed. You now make an ascent of several feet, and move along a passage, and through two or three lobbies, and come to what is called the Twin-room, and find your way is just on the verge of a dark cavern, which is yawning at your feet, and is named the Devil's Oven. A descent is now made of some difficulty, |