coa. some time to the action of the air, it resembles well-polished coAccording to Plumier, these two kinds of resinous trees are split into slips or laths, which they use, either alone or bound to gether, to light them during the night. CORAL WOOD.-This is produced from the erythrina corallodendron, Linn.; the flowers of which have the colour of the finest coral. This tree rises to the height of three or four metres; and is a native of South America; but it is also cultivated in India and China, on account of the beauty of its flowers. This wood is also called the immortal wood, not on account of its durability, but because the trees producing it multiply so surprisingly: it is light, tender, and whitish; and used to make charcoal for gunpowder. There are other species of coral wood which are more or less red, and heavy: their origin is uncertain;-they are brought mostly from the Antilles, and are frequently confounded with the red sandal wood. EBONY.-This wood is of such great importance in the arts, that we shall hereafter devote an entire Article to it. VIOLET WOOD.-This is a wood which the Dutch import from their South-American colonies, in large pieces. It has a fine and agreeable odour, and is of a violet colour, enriched with veins. This wood is held in the greatest estimation, when its veins cross in all directions, and their colours are most vivid. As its grain is close, it is capable of receiving a fine polish: and is used by the turner, the inlayer, and the ebonist, and is much sought after in the arts. It is also used by the makers of violin-bows. The Dutch also import another species, proper for inlaying, having a red colour approaching to violet; but this kind must not be confounded with the preceding, as it soon fades, and is subject to crack, unless varnished and polished from time to time. ROSE WOOD. This wood is well known, and much used in making furniture. The colour and odour of this wood resemble the flower after which it is named; and the fine polish it is susceptible of also makes it in great request: large quantities are consequently imported. We were long in absolute ignorance of the country from whence it was brought, and of the tree which produced it; but at length it has been ascertained, by Francis Masson, that it is brought from the Canaries, and conjectured to be a species of convolvulus. The Levant also furnishes another rose wood, the origin of which is unknown. The Dutch extract, by distillation, from rose wood, a very pungent oil, which may be substituted for the essential oil of roses, in certain preparations. The perfumers likewise make use of this wood, on account of its fragrance. ST. LUCIE WOOD.-The colour and odour of this wood renders it equally valuable. We presume that it was originally brought from the island after which it is named. We have, however, in France, a complete substitute for it, which is produced from a very VOL. III. No. 14. Museum. common tree, growing naturally all over this country, and which is also cultivated in pleasure-grounds; it is the mahaleb, a species of cherry-tree, which Linnæus describes under the name of Prunus mahaleb. The inhabitants of the village of St. Lucie, in Lorraine, where this tree grows abundantly, submit it to a preparation, which consists in burying it in the earth, for the purpose of improving its qualities; they afterwards manufacture it, in the lathe, into a variety of small articles, such as tooth-pick-cases, &c. This wood is of a reddish grey colour; it is hard and of a moderate weight; and has a very agreeable odour, which time improves. - SATIN WOOD. This wood, which is the produce of a fine tree that grows in the Antilles, is employed with advantage in inlay ing and veneering; when polished, it presents nearly the reflection of satin. It appears that it is the same, or at least a variety of the Iron wood, or Marble wood. The name of the European Satin wood is sometimes given to the plum tree; the wood of which, when it is prepared, somewhat resembles that of America. GREEN WOOD. Thus named, on account of its colour: it is the same wood which is commonly known by the name of Green ebony, or the Ebony of the Antilles. Its colour, and the fine polish of which it is susceptible, render it valuable. It is produced from the Jacaranda of Brazil; is a hard wood, marbled, and fit for the use of the inlayers. It greatly resembles the hornbeam; and its colour is a dark green, mixed sometimes with veins or yellow spots it may be polished like ebony; and blackens so well by time, that the ebonists frequently make it pass for real ebony. Some dyers use it for dying a lively green colour. This wood, when of a good quality, must be close grained, well veined, and of a high colour. SPANISH PATRIOT'S SONG. BY T. CAMPBELL. How rings each sparkling Spanish brand, Shall yonder rag, the Bourbon's flag, There's music in its rattle, And gay as for a saraband To the glorious revelry, Of rights for which our swords outspring, Follow, follow, Shake the Spanish blade and sing, White emblem of his liver, In Spain the proud, be Freedom's shroud? Follow, follow, Follow to the fight, and sing Ever, ever, ever. Thrice welcome hero of the hilt! If the laurel'd tricolor No, ere they quell our valour's veins, Shake the Spanish blade, and sing [New Month. Mag. GREEK SONG. THE SHADE OF THESEUS. Know ye not when our dead From sleep to battle sprung? There was one, a leader crown'd, On his gleaming war array. When banners caught the breeze, His sword was seen to flash But it smote without a clash, The stroke was heard by none! His voice was not of those That swell'd the rolling blast, And his steps fell hush'd like snows 'Twas the shade of Theseus pass'd! When banners caught the breeze, Far-sweeping through the foe, On the sounding ocean-shore. [Ibid. Where the boldest deeds were done, FROM THE NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE FOR JUNE THE TAVERN. "Whoe'er has travell❜d life's dull round, His warmest welcome at an inn." GAY. "BLEST as the immortal Gods is he," the youth, who, without the effort of using his own limbs, protected from the earth beneath and the skies above, is rapidly whirled in a close carriage to the ever open and hospitable door of a good tavern. Before the footman or coachman can descend, for the jaunty swing of the private chariot or the rattling jolt of a hackney-coach are welcomed with equal deference, half a dozen waiters rush from the house, the * See the tradition mentioned in Plutarch's Life of Theseus. « steps are lowered with all the celerity that is consistent with the prevention of noise, elbows are respectfully tendered to the descending visitant, a bowing procession ushers him into the spacious illuminated refectory, and the lady at the bar bows to him as he passes with a smile, that, while it preserves the dignity due to her presiding station, seems to say-Thrice welcome to all that my house contains!-the longer you stay, the more you revel, the greater your waste and devastation, the more acceptable will be your august presence." Hers are not the complimentary hyperboles of the Persian, who goes to the outskirts of the city and exclaims to every traveller-" Deign to accept of Shiraz and all its dependencies!"-No; her heart does not belie her looks; were she in Madame de Genlis's Palace of Truth, she would not alter a phrase, nor unbend a single smile. Amid a world of deceit, her benign looks are bent upon her new inmate with an absolute integrity of sincerity; nor are her numerous servants less cordial, emulous, and reverent. Is it winter, the guest's great coat and hat are taken from him, and cautiously suspended; one excites the fire into a cheerful and blazing recognition of his presence, while another spreads a skreen before the door, that "the airs of heaven may not visit him too roughly." Is it summer, the blinds are pulled down that he may be sheltered from the sun. and the window thrown open that he may be fanned by the cooling breezes, while a paper is placed before him containing the very latest news from each extremity of the earth, to prepare which for his morning perusal, many fellow-creatures of great technical skill, and some of intellectual eminence, have been sleepless all night. By the side of this record submitting the events of the wide world to his perusal, is placed the bill of fare, tendering the productions of the universe to his palate. The four elements, the four seasons, the four quarters of the earth are ransacked and laid under contribution for his instant gratification. The wishes of Cinderella, however wild and extravagant, were not more promptly realized; the cap of Fortunatus and the wand of Harlequin are less magical than his enchanted finger. He points, and the depths of the sea yield him up their tenants; the air surrenders its feathered rarities; earth pours out its cornucopia at his feet; and fire, like a ministering spirit, waits to receive his orders for their concoction, Mankind seems to be at his disposal not less than the animal and vegetable world. How many weary months have the crew of an East Indiaman been shut out from the sight of land, how many storms have they encountered, to bring home that pickle of which he swallows a mouthful, not to gratify but promote hunger, that he may devour some production imported at equal cost from another hemisphere. Lives, more valuable perhaps than his own, may have been sacrificed to pamper his appetite. Some fisherman's boat may have perished in the nightstorm before that turbot was torn from the raging billows; the poacher may now lie mangled or dead who stole that pheasant from the preserve; and the glass he is lifting to his lips may be blush ing with the blood of the smuggler. Those who do not die for him seem to live for him: from the snow-covered hunter of the North to the sun-burnt vintager of the South, all offer up to him the sacrifice of their toils and dangers. Nor is it only in this remote worship that he is undergoing a living apotheosis. The waiters bow down before him: "præsens habebitur divus"-a present Deity the walls resound; and even the subterranean cooks, scullions, and kitchen-maids, though they do not chaunt hymns with their lips, enact them with their hands; they talk with their fingers and digitate quotations from Shak speare" Laud we the gods, and let our crooked smoke climb to their nostrils." How delightful the contrast of all this heartfelt homage,-this perfect and spotless candour of hospitality, with the hollow, sordid, and treacherous professions of the world, the lip-love of rivals, the warm words and cold looks of pretended friends; the Judas-like salutations of those who contract their hearts while they extend their arms; the falsehood of relations, who, while they wish us many happy new years, are secretly pining for our death; the duplicity of acquaintance, who are delighted to see us, and wish us at the devil; the forbidding looks of the wife if we go uninvited to a dinner; the broad hints of the husband if we protract our visit beyond the stipulated day; and the scowl of the servants wheresoever and whensoever we are doomed to accept of their bad offices. Enthroned in a tavern-chair, we seem to have dominion over mind as well as matter; to command the hearts as well as the hands of our species: thus uniting the charities and affections that delight the soul, with all the luxuries and gratifications that can recreate the sense. And who is the happy individual whose presence commands this species of instant adoration from all things animate and inanimate? Is it the prodigal son, for whose unexpected return hecatombs of fatted calves are to be slain? Is it some benefactor of his race, some patriot or hero, some grandee or sovereign of the country? Far from it. Any obscure or absolutely unknown individual may enjoy this temporary deification if he have but a few thin circular pieces of metal in his pocket. I question whether the advantages of the social system are ever concentrated into a more striking point of illustration; or the supremacy, the omnipotence of gold ever more undeniably manifested, than in this accumulation of power, by which the whole range of nature, with all its varieties and enjoyments, is converged into the narrow space of one room and one hour, and placed at the absolute disposal of the humblest individual in society. So much homage and luxury, alike flattering to the spirit and the sense, form a dangerous possession to those who are not habituated to their enjoyment. A gentleman, in the enlarged sense of that word, will have comprehension enough of intellect to distinguish between the substance and the accidents of human nature: |