when the liquor came to dryness, there would only be left those particles in which its roughness and colour consist. This would make what is called an extract of a plant.

Pup. What becomes of the water that evaporates? Tut. It ascends into the air, and unites with it. But if in its way it be stopped by any cold body, it is condensed, that is, it returns to the state of water again. Lift up the lid of the tea-pot, and you will see water collected on the inside of it, which is condensed steam from the hot tea beneath. Hold a spoon or knife in the way of the steam, which bursts out from the spout of the tea-kettle, and you will find it immediately covered with drops. This operation of turning a fluid into vapour, and then condensing it, is called distillation. For this purpose, the vessel in which the liquor is heated is closely covered with another, called the head, into which the steam rises, and is condensed. It is then drawn off by means of a pipe into another vessel called the receiver. In this way, all sweetscented and aromatic liquors are drawn from fragrant vegetables, by means of water or spirits. The fragrant part, being very volatile, rises along with the steam of the water or spirit, and remains united with it after it is condensed. Rose-water and spirit of lavender are liquors of this kind.

Pup. Then the water collected on the inside of the tea-pot lid should have the fragrance of the

tea.

Tut. It should--but unless the tea were fine, you could scarcely perceive it.

Pup. I think I have heard of making salt-water fresh by distilling.

Tut. Yes. That is an old discovery, revived within these few years. The salt in sea-water, being of a fixed nature, does not rise with the steam; and therefore, on condensing the steam, the water is found to be fresh. And this, indeed, is the method nature employs in raising water by exhalation from the ocean,

which, collecting into clouds, is condensed in the cold regions of the air, and falls down in rain.

But our tea is done; so we will now put an end to our chemical lecture.

Pup. But is this real chemistry?

Tut. Yes, it is.

Pup. Why, I understand it all, without any difficulty.

MR. B. was accustomed to read in the evening to his young folk some select story, and then ask them in turn what they thought of it. From the reflections they made on these occasions, he was enabled to form a judgment of their dispositions, and was led to throw in remarks of his own, by which their hearts and understandings might be improved. One night, he read the following narrative from "Churchill's Voyages."

"In some voyages of discovery made from Denmark to Greenland, the sailors were instructed to seize some of the natives by force or stratagem, and bring them away. In consequence of these orders, several Greenlanders were kidnapped and brought to Denmark. Though they were treated there with kindness, the poor wretches were always melancholy, and were observed frequently to turn their faces towards the north, and sigh bitterly. They made several attempts to escape, by putting out to sea in their little canoes which had been brought with them. One of them had got as far as thirty leagues from land before he was overtaken. It was remarked, that this poor man, whenever he met a woman with a child in her arms, used to utter a deep sigh; whence it was conjectured that he had left a wife and child behind him. They all pined away, one after another, and died miserably."

"Now, Edward," said he, "what is your opinion of this story ?"

Edward. Poor creatures! I think it was very barbarous to take them from home.

Mr. B. It was, indeed!

Ed. Have civilized nations any right to behave so to savages?

Mr. B. I think you may readily answer that question yourself. Suppose you were a savage--what would be your opinion ?

Ed. I dare say I should think it very wrong. But can savages think about right and wrong as we do? Mr. B. Why not? are they not men?

Ed. Yes-but not like civilized men, surely!

Mr. B. I know no important difference between ourselves and those people we are pleased to call savage, but in the degree of knowledge and virtue possessed by each. And I believe many individuals among the Greenlanders, as well as other unpolished people, exceed in these respects many among us. In the present case, I am sure the Danish sailors showed themselves the greater savages.

Ed. But what did they take away the Greenlanders for?

Mr. B. The pretence was, that they might be brought to be instructed in a Christian country, and then sent back to civilize their countrymen.

Ed. And was not that a good thing?

Mr. B. Certainly-if it had been done by proper means; but to attempt it by an act of violence and injustice could not be right; for they could teach them nothing so good as their example was bad; and the poor people were not likely to learn willingly from those who had begun with injuring them so cruelly.

Ed. I remember Captain Cook brought over somebody from Otaheite; and poor Le Boo was brought here from the Pelew Islands. But I believe they both came of their own accord.

Mr. B. They did. And it is a great proof of the

better way of thinking of modern voyagers than of former ones, that they do not consider it as justifiable to use violence, even for the supposed benefit of the people they visit.

Ed. I have read of taking possession of a newlydiscovered country by setting up the king's standard, or some such ceremony, though it was full of inhabitants.

Mr. B. Such was formerly the custom; and a more impudent mockery of all right and justice cannot be conceived. Yet this, I am sorry to say, is the title by which European nations claim the greatest part of their foreign settlements.

Ed. And might not the natives drive them out again, if they were able?

Mr. B. I am sure I do not know why they might not; for force can never give right.

Now, Harry, tell me what you think of the story.

Harry. I think it very strange that people should want to go back to such a cold, dismal place as Greenland.

Mr. B. Why, what country do you love best in all the world?

H. England, to be sure.

Mr. B. But England is by no means the warmest and finest country. Here are no grapes growing in the fields, nor oranges in the woods and hedges, as there are in more southern climates.

H. I should like them very well, to be sure-but then England is my own native country, where you, and mamma, and all my friends live. Besides, it is a very pleasant country, too.

Mr. B. As to your first reason, you must be sensible that the Greenlander can say just the same; and the poor fellow, who left a wife and children behind, must have had the strongest of all ties to make him wish to return. Do you think I should be easy to be separated from all of you?

H. No-and I am sure we should not be easy, neither.

Mr. B. Home, my dear, wherever it is, is the spot towards which a good heart is the most strongly drawn. Then, as for the pleasantness of a place, that all depends upon habit. The Greenlander, being accustomed to the way of living, and all the objects of his own country, could not fancy any other so well. He loved whale-fat and seal as well as you can do pudding and beef. He thought rowing his little boat amidst the boisterous waves, pleasanter employment than driving a plough or a cart. He fenced himself against the winter's cold by warm clothing; and the long night of many weeks, which you would think so gloomy, was to him a season of ease and festivity in his habitation under-ground. It is a very kind and wise dispensation of Providence, that every part of the world is rendered the most agreeable to those who live in it.

Now, little Mary, what have you to say?

Mary. I have only to say, that if they were to offer to carry me away from home, I would scratch their eyes out.

Mr. B. Well said, my girl! stand up for yourself. Let nobody run away with you-against your will. Mary. That I won't.

ELEVENTH EVENING.

ON MANUFACTURES.

Father-Henry.

Hen. My dear father, you observed the other day that we had a great many manufactures in England. Pray, what is a manufacture?

Fa. A manufacture is something made by the hand of man. It is derived from two Latin words,―manus the hand, and facere, to make. Manufactures are, therefore, opposed to productions, which latter are