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The Friend : a religious and literary journal (Volume 16) online

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ratiag-pans, and other necessary apparatus.
The state to which the carbonate is brought
by the process of cleansing, is that of fine
white grains, differing but little, to an unprac-
tised eye, from the prepared sand.

Oxide of lead, both in the form of litharge
and of minium, or red-lead, is employed in
flint-glass for the following reasons : — it is a
powerful flux, enabling the sand to melt more
readily, and it gives the glass greater density;
greater power of refracting light; greater
lustre; greater resistance to fracture from
sudden heat and cold, and greater ductility
during the working. If there be too much of
this material, the glass becomes inconveniently
soft.

The other ingredients in flint-glass, which
are very small in quantity, are used as purify-
ing and bleaching agents ; and, as well as the
oxide of lead, require but little preparation on
the part of the glass-maker.

Let us assume that these several ingredients
are in a sufficiently prepared state. They
are taken to the " mixing-room," which con-
tains several long bins or boxes ; and after
being weighed in proper proportions, the
ingredients are sifted, mixed in the bins, and
brought to a state fit for the melting-furnace.
Here we must leave them for the present,
remembering that the state in which the ingre-
dients are put into the melting-puts is that of
a salmon-coloured powder, the red tinge being
given by the oxide of lead.

The melting-pots, and their mode of prepa-
ration, now deserve our notice. The reader
will not be surprised to hear that the manu-
facture, drying, and baking of the glass-pots
are important processes; since one pot
filled, contains sixteen hundred weinjit of
glass, the preservation and proper mcUiiig of
which are essential to the subsequent lab(
of the glass-worker.

There is a particular kind of clay brought
from Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, which
seems better calculated than any other as a
material for the glass-pots, and which is dug



THE FRIE.>D.



from the soil in a hard slate, ground fine, bar-
relled, and sent up to London. The broken,
or worn-out pots, are likewise found to be use- 1
ful when employed in combination with new
clay; four parts of new clay being mixed with
one part of old pots, ground by a horse-mill,
and sifted to fine powder. The mixed ingre-
dients then undergo a process so primitive,
that one almost regrets to see it in this age of
machinery. The powdered clay, being mixed
with warm water in large square leaden
troughs, is trampled on with naked feet until
thoroughly kneaded into a stiff" adhesive clay.
The kneading of the dough for sea-biscuits at
IJcptford, which was formerly done by men's
fists and elbows, is now much better effected
by machinery; and we might suppose that a

milar result would follow the application of
machinery in the present case ; but it appears
that a machine, formerly employed at these
works for this purpose, fiiiled to produce tlie
required effect, and the old method was again

sumed.

The services of the " pot-maker" are now
called for. The melting-pots for ffint-glass

e not moulded, but are built up piecemeal,
each piece being rolled into a cylindrical

rm, and laid in a curve on preceding rolls.
If we could imagine a boy's grotto to be built

"these clay-rolls instead of oyster-shells, we
might form an idea of the potter's operations,

ith this important addition, that every roll of
clay is so thoroughly pressed and squeezed as
to expel all the air from between the rolls, and
to form a uniform and thick wall or crust.
The manipulations of the potter are aided by
a few simple tools; and, keeping four in pro-
gress at once, working a little on each in turn,
he completes the four in six days. Few per-
sons, probably, on hearing of a " melting-pot,"
would imagine the weight and bulk of those
here alluded to. The weight of clay required
for one pot is nearly one thousand pounds ; and
the dimensions of the finished vessel are about
three feet in height, two and three-quarters
in diameter, and from two to three inches
thick. The shape is nearly cylindrical, with
a hemispherical top, and a flat base, and
there is only one opening, about eight or ten
inches in diameter, at the upper part of one
side.

The longer these pots can be left before
they are used, the better ; consequently, it is
important to keep a considerable number
hand. We were struck with the singular
pearance of a large dark room, the floor of
which was studded with nearly a hundred of
these dome-shaped vessels. A little stretch
of imagination would have transformed the
assemblage into Cassim Baba's oil-jars, and
have peopled them with forty (or twice forty)
thieves; but the damp odour of clay kept the
thoughts from wandering from Blackfriars to
Bagdad. The pots are left in this room for
several months. The evaporation from the
damp clay is considerable, and is allowed to
go on very gradually, in order to ensure an
equable state throughout the thickness of the
pot. When the drying is effected, the pots are
taken as wanted to an adjoining room, kept at
a higher temperature, and then, a door being
opened into the glass-house, (of which more



presently,) each pot is lowered by a crane,
and placed in the " pot-arch." This arch is
a small furnace capable of containing two or
three pots; and the pots are there exposed
for five days to a very intense heat.

'i'he ingredients are prepared ; the melting-
pots are made and hardened ; and it is now
time to visit the " glass-house" itself — the
part of the building to which all the others are
subsidiary, and to which the eye of an artist
might be directed for some striking effects of
lights and shade. Imagine a large room,
fifty or sixty feet square, with an earthen
floor, hounded by brick walls, lofty and dimly
lighted, and covered by an iron roof, the mid-
dle of which is probably fifty feet from the
ground. This is the shell ov crust, the kernel
of which is the melting-furnace. In the mid-
dle of the room we see four pillars, twelve or
fourteen feet high, supporting the four corners
of a great chimney, which passes through the
middle of the roof, and rises to the height of
about eighty feet. This chimney is quadran-
gular, tapering upwards ; and a clear passage
is left beneath it between the pillars. Built
on the level of the ground, at two opposite
sides of this chimney are two furnaces, the
smoke from each of which ascends by a bent
flue into the great chimney. Such are the
objects which first meet the eye through the
dusky gloom of the place.

(To be cominueJ.)



NURE31BERG.

Nuremberg, with its long, narrow, winding,
involved streets, in precipitous ascents and
descents, its completely Gothic physiognomy,
is by far the strongest old city I ever beheld ;
it has retained in every part the aspect of the
middle ages. iNo two houses resemble each
other ; yet differing in form, in colour, in
height, in ornament, all have a family like-
ness ; and with their peaked and carved
gables, and projecting central balconies and
painted fronts, stand up in a row, like so many
tall, gaunt, stately old maids, with the toques
and stomachers of the last century. The build-
ings are so ancient ; the fashions of society so
antiquated ; the people so penetrated with
veneration for themselves and their city, that
in the few days I spent there, I began to feel
quite old too — my mind was wrinkled up, as
it were, with a reverence for the past. I
wondered that people condescended to talk of
any event more recent than the Thirty Years'
War, and the defence of Gustavus Adolphus.
Nuremberg was the Gothic Athens; it was
never the seat of government ; but as a free
imperial city it was independent and self-go-
verned, and took the lead in arts and liter-
ature. Here it was that clucks and watches,
maps and musical instruments were manufac-
tured for all Germany ; here were music,
poetry, and painting at once honoured as sci-
ences and cultivated as handicrafts, each
having its guild, or corporation, duly charter-
ed, like the other trades of this flourishing
city, and requiring, by the institution of the
magistrates, a regular apprenticeship. It was
here that, on the first discovery of printing, a
literary barber and meistersinger (Hans Foltz)



i



THE FRIEND.



259



set up a printing-press in his own house ; and j
it was but the natural consequence of all this;
industry, mental activity, and social cultiva- 1
tion, that Nuremberg should have been one of j
the first cities which declared for the refor-
mation. But what is most curious and stri-
king in this old city is to see it stationary,
while time and change are working such mira-
cles and transformations every where else.
The house where Martin Behaim, four centu-
ries ago, invented the sphere, and drew the
first geographical chart, is still the house
of a mapseller. In the house where cards
were first manufactured, cards are now sold.
In the very shops where clocks and watches
were first seen, you may still buy clocks and
watches. The same families have inhabited
the same mansions from one generation to
another, for four or five centuries. The great
manufactories of those toys called Dutch toys
are at Nuremberg. The enormous scale on
which this commerce is conducted, the hun-
dreds of wagon-loads and ship-loads of these
trifles and gimcracks which find their way to
every part of the known world, must interest
a thinking mind. A Nuremberger complained
to me most seriously of the falling off in the
trade of pill-boxes ! he said ^^|^ since the
fashionable people of London ^a Paris had
taken to paper pill-boxes, the millions of
wooden or chip boxes which used to be annu-
ally sent from Nuremberg to all parts of Eu-
rope were no longer required ; and he com-
puted the consequent falling off" of the profits
at many thousand florins. The extraordinary
cemetery of Nuremberg is as unlike every
other cemetery as Nuremberg is unlike every
other city. Imagine, upon a rising ground,
an open space of about four acres, completely
covered with enormous slabs, about a foot and
a half in thickness, seven feet in length, and
four in breadth, laid horizontally, and just
allowing space for a single person to move
between them. The name and the armorial
bearings of the dead, in rich sculpture, or
sometimes cast in bronze, decorated these
tombs. I remember one to the memory of a
beautiful girl, who was killed, as she lay asleep
in her father's garden, by a lizard creeping
into her mouth. The story is represented in
bronze bas-relief, and the lizard is so construct-
ed as to move when touched. From this I
shrunk with disgust, and turned to the sepul-
chre of a famous worthy, who measured the
distance from Nuremberg to the Holy Se-
pulchre with his garter: the implement of his
pious enterprise, twisted into a sort of true-
love knot, is carved on his tomb. — Visits and
Sketches at Home and Abroad.



MUSTARD TREE.

" There was one curious tree," say Captains
Irby and Mangles, in their " Travels in Egypt,"
&c., " which we observed in great plenty, and
which bare a fruit in bunches, resembling in
ap|iearance the currant, with the colour of the
plum. It has a pleasant, although strongly
aromatic taste, exactly resembling mustard ;
and, if taken in any quantity, produces a simi-
lar irritability of the nose and eyes to that
which is caused by taking mustard. The



leaves of the tree have the same pungent fla-
vour as the fruit, although not so strong. We
think it probable that this is the tree our
Saviour alluded to, in the parable of the mus-
tard seed, and not the mustard plant which we
have in the north ; for although in our jour-
ney from Bysan to Adjeloun we met with the
mustard plant, growing wild, as high as our
horses' heads, still, being an annual, it did not
deserve the appellation of ' a tree;' whereas
the other is really such, and birds might
easily, and actually do, take shelter under its
shadow." This discovery will be of much
interest to those who are aware of the great
difficulty which has been experienced in iden-
tifying the tree to which our Saviour alludes,
when comparing the kingdom of heaven " to
a grain of mustard seed, which a man took
and sowed in the earth, which is indeed the
least of all seeds, but when it is grown, is the
greatest among heibs, and becometh a tree,
so that the birds of the air come and lodge in
the branches thereof." Matt. xiii. 31, 32.
The Jewish writers speak of a mustard tree,
common among them, in quite corresponding
terms, seeming to show that a species of the
Sinapis, or some analogous genus, existed in
Palestine, with which we are not well ac-
quainted ; and which may very probably prove
to be that which Captain Mangles has pointed
out. It is to be regretted that he did not make
himself acquainted with its name. As to the
more common species of mustard, of which he
incidentally speaks, we may as well mention
here, that it was probably the Sinapis Orien-
talis, attaining, under a favouring climate and
circumstances, a stature which it will not reach
in our climate. This species is common in
Palestine. In essential character it differs
little from the Sinapis arvensis (which sup-
plies the " Durham mustard,") being distin-
guished chiefly by the beak only of the pod
being smooth. — Natural History of Pales-
tine.



As many persons are in the habit of pruning
their fruit trees at this season of the year, we
publish the following: — Orchards have been
injured more by winter and early spring
pruning than by any other cause. Nothing
is better established than that the best time
for pruning is when the tree is in full growth.
— Yankee Farmer.

" Prvning Fruit Trees. — It will be found,
upon experiment, that a wound made on a
tree in March or April will look black, as
soon as the sap begins to flow, and that the
sap will ooze out until the leaves have put out
so as to receive it ; while a wound made in
.Tune will remain white, and immediately
commence healing. And a tree that has
been broken by being loaded with fruit, or
otherwise, while the tree is green with foli-
age, the wound will look white, and the wood
remain sound, while one broken in the winter
by snow, or from other causes, will look
black, and incline to decay.

" It has been my humble lot to spend the
most of my time in the spring and fore part
of the summer in engrafting and pruning fruit



trees, and my experience goes to prove that
the best lime for pruning is when the leaves
are full grown, and the tree is in a vigorous
and growmg slate ,- for at this season, when
the sap has been spent in the foliage, and the
pores of the wood are filled, so that when the
limb is taken off', the sun and warm weather
will dry the end of the limb, and close the
pores of the wood against the weather, and
the sap will keep the limb alive to the very
end, and the healing will be perceived imme-
diately."

To raise good Radishes. — Take pure sand,
some depth from the surface, or pure earth,
below where it has been tilled or mowed, or
sea-sand, washed by the waves, make a bed in
the garden, six or eight inches deep, and as
big as you please ; in this sow your radish
seed, and they will grow well without manure,
and be free from worms ; we have tried it fre-
quently, and never failed.

Radishes that are grown very early in the
season are of slow growth, and inferior to
those grown after the weather is warm
enough to hasten them ; as the faster they
grow the more tender, and the finer flavour.
— Yankee Farmer.

Discovery of fossils. — At the village of Crow-
dicote, in the parish of Hartington, Derbyshire,
about six miles from Buxton, Daniel Har-
rison, a short time ago, commenced opening
a quarry or pit, to try the quality of the stone
which it contained, and, on cutting the rock
down, he found it to be a most beautifully var-
iegated shell crystal and strata marble, embo-
died with the prettiest crystallized shells that
nature or art could form, as well as other miner-
al bodies. This WDiiderfal curiosit)' of nature
contains the following remarkable fossil bod-
ies, encrusted all in one solid mass of stone, and
capable of being got up by art to the most beau-
tiful polish: — Of ornamental marble there is
a variety of white and brown, cockle-shells,
and muscles; also, plain and fluted shells, and
the ainmonite and nautilus shells, and periwin-
kle, snail-horn, &c. The appearance of vari-
ous kinds of fish which none but able geolo-
gists could inlerpet; also, the antroco. The
figure of this last remarkable stone, when got
up to a polish, is beautifully intersected with
variegated colours of black, brown, while,
and gray, and is a real curiosity. — Sheffield
Iris.

Religious Women. — They are the women
who bless, dignify, and truly adorn society.
The painter, indeed, does not make his for-
tune by their sitting to him ; the jeweller is
neither brought into vogue, by furnishing
their diamonds, nor undone for not being paid
for them ; the prosperity of the milliner does
not depend on affixing their name to a cap or
a collar ; the poet does not celebrate them;
the novelist does not dedicate to them — but
they possess the affection of their husbands ;
the attachment of their children ; the esteem
of the wise and good ; and, above all, they
possess His favour, " whom to know is life
eternal."



260



Selected for •• The Fr
THE MOTHER'S Cai.VVE.

They Blood beside tlic grave of her

Who watch'd iheir infant years,
And ardently their grief expressed,

In sighs, and sobs, and tears.
They thought of her, and all her deeds.

So meek, so kind, so mild —
Said he, the eldest of Ihc train —

" Look, mother, on thy child !
"For if to this dark world again

The spirit can appear,
Wilt thou not come, e'en though unseen,

And smile upon us here?
For oft mcthinks — when sorrow comes.

And grief usurps the sway
Of calmer thoughts— tlitt thou art near —

And sadness Bees aw^iy.

Creator 1 in lliis vale of tears.

Our trust is slill in IIku,
For well we know whjle'er betide,

A Father thou wilt be ;
And all our cares, and all onr giiefi.

Arc in thy wisdom given.
To fit us Jbr a brighter sphere.



For " Tln! Friend."

Agricultural. — A friend of mine, recently
'in the city, informed me, that he obtained
from tive and a half acres of ground the fol-
lowing product. If llie editor of " The Friend"
thinks it worth publishing, it is at his service.
M.

Two hundred bushels of turnips; 40 do.
corn ; 100 do. oats; 70 do. potatoes; 60 do.
sugar beets ; 250 do. apples ; 5 do. parsnips ;
3 do. seed onions; 1^ tons of hay ; 300 bun-
dies of corn fodder; 300 do. oat straw; and
several small matters not noticed.

SCBiUISSIOV.

From Olii Hiiniplire\''s *• 'i'houghts lor tin; 'rhnughtfiil."

I remember hearing of a dear lover of
books, who had his library burned down to the
ground. When his friends expressed their
surprise that he should bear his loss with so
much calmness, his reply was, " I must have
learned but little from my books, if it has not
taught me to endure the loss of them."

1 remember hearing of another who had
reason to expect that his dying brother would
leave him a large fortune. " Your brother is
dead," said the executor; " but he has not left
you a single sixpence of his property." " If
God had not known that I could do better
without it than with it," was the reply, " I
should have had it every penny. It might
have given mc many enjoyments on earth,
but it would surely have hampered me on my
way to heaven : I thank my Heavenly Father
for ridding me of the burden."

I remember, also, liearing of a third who,
when told that bis enemies had taken away his
oxen, his asses, and his camels; that fire had
fallen from heaven and consumed bis sheep ;
that his servants had been slain with the edge
of the sword ; and that a great wind had
blown down a house on the heads of his chil-
dren, and killed them — replied, " The Lord
gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed
be the name of the Lord."



THE FRIEND.

Now what is the use of hearing about such
instances of submission to the will of God, if
they leave us as impatient under troubles, and
as repining under losses, as they find us ?
These things should be as medicine to our
minds, oil to our joints, and marrow to our
bones. Oh, for the spirit of some who have
gone before us, who have borne affliction
without murmuring, taken joyfully the spoil-
ing of their goods, endured meekly and pa-
tiently the bitterness of persecution, even to
death, and accounted all things but loss in
comparison with the excellency of the know-
ledge of Jesus Christ.



For "The Friend."

THE STORM.

Scul; fly lo lliy watch-tower, the tenipcsl is coming,
black tbrms in the east ai.d the west gather last ;
T he pioneer clouds in swill couisis are running.

While near the horizon the sky is o'eroasl ;
r.ook well to l)iy dwelling, lor fiercely Ihc shock
Will shake all foundations built not on the Rock !

Wild gusts from the west with their load roaring thun-

Proelaim Ihe commotion that ravages there ;
Unliiidled Ihe tempest — fierce rcndiig asunder

Wliate'er is defenceless its lury to bear !
Sink deep tor thy corner-stone, — soon may ihe shock
Sweep away every dwelling laid not on the Koek !

Cold and cruel the storm from the east is approaching.

Insidious lis course as in craft it draws nigh, —
Here, gently it spreads — there, in fury encroaching, —

Now blasts, bitter blasts are deforming the sky !
Gather home to thy watch-tower ! — nor bar, bolt or

lock.
Will protect from the tempest — haste, haste to the
Kock I

There abide ihou the day of the fearful commotion.
Its rage has a limit, its power is but brief;

Though it loam in its wrath as the tempest-vexed
ocean.
He who suffers its progress shall bring thee relief;

When the mandate is ultered, "Lo 1 here is thy bound,"

Every rock-centered dwelling shall safely be found.

As the prophet his head in the mantle enshrouded.

And stood in the cave as Ihe shrieking storm passed,
Gather thou from the vortex while vision is clouded.
Till the ' voice still and small' shall succeed to the
blast ;
Then, as tlie spent clouds roll away overhead.
On thy RocU-fbunded dwelling bright beams shall be
shed.



Online LibraryRobert SmithThe Friend : a religious and literary journal (Volume 16) → online text (page 96 of 154)