lose the golden opportunity chance had thrown in their way, reached his ear. He was exasperated almost to madness by the supposed disobedience of the officer whom he had hoped to find had secured the malcontents by ten o'clock. An hour had nearly elapsed, and still he did not make his appearance. Alarm at the dangers which thickened around him, and rage at that neglect which he accused as the cause of a peril so great, Peter was embarrassed how to act, when one of the Strelitz, impatient for action, called to Sukanin in a low but expressive tone

"Brother, it is time."

The look and manner of the speaker fully made known the real meaning of his speech. The Czar felt that it was thought the moment had arrived when his life might safely be assailed. A pause fol. lowed, and no answer was returned. Just then Peter heard a sound, which satisfied him of the near approach of his soldiers.

"It is time," repeated the man who had previously spoken.

"Not for you, villain, though it is for me," exclaimed Peter, and while he spoke he struck the Strelitz in the face with such force that the man instantly sunk to the ground. The guards rushed in, and the conspirators now finding that they had been betrayed-that their treason was known, threw themselves on their knees and implored their sovereign's mercy.

His heart was inaccessible to such an appeal. He ordered them all to be secured and put in chains, and the moment this had been done, he turned to his own commander, and giving him a violent blow in the face, demanded in a fierce tone why his orders had been neglected-why he had not been there an hour before, at the same time overwhelming him with the coarsest reproaches.

The colonel, as soon as he had recovered from an attack so little expected, produced the order which he had received, to prove that he had not been to blame. Peter saw with astonishment that he had written the word eleven instead of the hour he meant to name. A feeling of rude generosity prompted him to embrace the officer, to kiss his forehead, and to proclaim that his conduct was faultless.

To the rack the unhappy Strelitz were doomed. Their limbs were slowly and severally mutilated; and after long-protracted agonies, they expired. Their heads he caused to be exhibited on column, which he surrounded with fragments of their bodies, ranged in grotesque but ghastly order, to inspire terror among his discontented subjects.

If Peter hoped this ferocious severity would ensure future tranquillity he was deceived. A new outbreak occurred while he was absent on his travels. On being

informed of it he immediately returned, when he found the revolters had been put down, and were already in confinement, waiting for him to decide on their fate.

Then the merciless Czar resolved to indulge in a vengeful banquet, and to luxuriate in blood. He studied how to inflict the most thrilling as well as the most enduring anguish. The ingenuity of others was stimulated to afford him a spectacle of the most exquisite misery that human nature could furnish. He caused the wretched men to be put to the torture, and while they were groaning in agony he exultingly looked on, reproached them with their crime, and mocked the sufferings he caused to be inflicted. Such a scene as was then witnessed no stage could attempt to copy. Seated on his throne, the demon-autocrat laughed with hideous joy, and drained the wine-cup in presence of his victims. Festivity and blood were mingled in horrible union. In one hand he mirthfully waved the foaming goblet on high; in the other he brandished the discoloured axe! In one dismally atrocious hour, twenty times did he drain the cup, and twenty heads did he sever from the mangled quivering bodies of the sufferers, rejoicing in the skill and dexterity he displayed, and compelling his nobles to take part in the revolting butchery. On this mournful occasion no fewer than two thousand wretches were put to a death of torture by the ferocious despot.

Such fearful deeds stain the name of this celebrated man. He was certainly a wonderful savage, but his brutal nature could not be restrained, and his consort and his son were eventually found among the number of his victims.

him, was singing and cutting a thousand extravagant capers. No sooner had we got clear of the ruins than it was his good pleasure, observing that I was but an indifferent horseman, to have a little amusement at my expense. On our entering a fine open plain, he rode up to my side so that our horses were neck to neck. He uttered a few Turkish words, which the animals we bestrode understood right well, though I did not. Off they both started, and, in a moment, without being in the slightest degree prepared for it, I found myself engaged in a race. I had not been over steady from the first, and thus taken by surprise, I reeled from starboard to larboard, as a sailor would say, expecting every moment to fall overboard, or to run aground, to the serious injury of my figurehead. I tried to check my horse, and vociferated "Wo, ho!" but the sound of my voice frightened my steed, and he galloped on faster than before. I took the lead; it was "five to four on the captain;" but the Turk, a follower of Mahomet, did not care to be a follower of mine, and urged his quadruped to increased speed, who now shot ahead, and then made a sudden halt. My horse, perceiving his companion stop, did the same, to my infinite relief. The Turk then came near me, laughing heartily, and exulting in having won the race. To him it was excellent fun, but I felt that I had been grossly insulted. "It is not," says Sterne, " every man who can relish humour, however much he may wish it; it is the gift of God." That gift was not vouchsafed to me on this occasion, and in the full flow of my indignation at having thus been sported with, I considered an affront had been offered to my country, and resolved to avenge poor old England's wrongs; approaching the infidel with a stick which I had in my hand, I bestowed three hearty whacks on his shoulders. This part of my performance evidently did not meet with his approbation, but he made no effort to return the blows. Their receipt he acknowledged by a fiendish look, that very distinctly intimated the offence was not likely to be forgotten.

My English friend came up and reproved my want of temper. He said I ought not to have suffered myself to be carried away so far. I was a good deal of his opinion, but told him I could not help it, which was really the fact.

"The truth is," said he, "I am apprehensive that very unpleasant consequences will ensue. These Turks never strike each other with the fist or with a stick, and a blow from a Christian dog' is such an unbearable indignity, that it is not unfrequently revenged by assassination."

This was not very agreeable intelligence for me, but my blood was up, and when my friend enlarged on the danger I ran, I de

He

clared that I was not sorry for the course I had taken, as the rascal well merited the gentle chastisement he had received. said he would try to accommodate matters by getting our Greek companion to say I had not meant to insult the Turk, but only struck him in jest. They talked with the guide, and after some time he appeared satisfied with the explanation they volunteered.

I now persuaded myself that all was over, but had soon reason for suspecting that the Turk was not appeased. Galloping up to me, he gave me such a broadside that it was with difficulty I kept my seat; the mystic word was again given, and both the horses started as before. Off went my hat, and my wig must have done the same, had I worn one. My beast strained every nerve to conquer. I doubt if the renowned Turpin passed over the ground more swiftly. Our former start was on an open plain, but now we were near the mountains; clumps of trees, bushes, small hills, and pieces of rock, lay in our course. To avoid some of these he made a sudden tack, which had nearly proved fatal to his rider. He distanced the Turk. I held on in great pain, and with much trepidation, when something suddenly gave way, and the next moment I felt that I had to deplore a fearful rent in my inexpressibles. Johnny Gilpin's distress was nothing to mine. He had no Turk for an enemy, and had a fair road before him; besides, he had a good mane to hold by, while I had nothing of the kind to assist me, as my Rosinante had been cut close. I, however, caught hold of the pommel of the saddle, which it is the fashion there to make stand up high, and at the same time ventured again to call out "Wo, ho!" The animal seemed more frightened than ever, and went forward with desperate energy, as I calculated, at the rate of twenty-five knots in the hour. I was beginning to despair, when I found that he had reached the mountains. I perceived his pace slacken, and now was content that he should ascend as fast as he pleased. But he was winded, and I soon succeeded in bringing him to a stand still. My adversary was left behind. I had won the race, but got no stakes. My English friend came up, bringing my hat, which I had never hoped to find exalted on my head again. He congratulated me on my safety, and told me the Turk had been thrown from his horse, and he feared was severely hurt.

I felt little pity for the fellow, considering that he had twice exposed me to great danger, in a spirit of wantonness or malice. To me it was not agreeable to exhibit as the ludicrously disordered equestrian he had made me. He was laid up for several days, and then, being a government courier,

THE exposition of Herr Döbler's beautiful experiment, in a late number, having met with decided approbation, we have solicited from our correspondent a series of papers illustrating and explaining other tricks of a similar nature, depending upon the principles of science for their execution.

In the present number we are enabled to offer a solution of the interesting pneumatic experiment of causing a bottle of wine apparently to decant itself into two glasses placed at any reasonable distance on either side of the bottle.

It is more convenient and less expensive to dispense with the usual sized decanter, and employ one which will hold about two glasses full of wine only; a good sized vinegar cruet answers remarkably well, but the stopper must be made to fit the bottle air-tight. In the lower or underneath part of the bottle a fine hole must be drilled.* On filling the cruet with wine, take out the stopper, and, at the same time, close the hole by pressing the finger firmly upon it. When filled and the stopper replaced, no portion of the wine can escape from the bottle, provided the stopper is accurately fitted. The bottle, when filled, is to be placed upon a hollow stand of tin with a hole in the upper part, as shown in the following diagram:

effectually to hide the decanter. There must also be provided two tin caps or covers, made in the manner shown in the diagram, to be placed over the wine-glasses.

These are to be previously filled with wine in the following manner:-Place the finger firmly against the lower hole a, and with a small funnel pour the wine into the hole b; when filled have ready a piece of bees'-wax, and with it close the hole b.

The wine will then, by pneumatic pressure, be retained in the cover similar to the decanter.

In the bare explanations which we thus offer we of course dispense with that hocus pocus jargon common to experiments of this nature when exhibited as conjurations. When you intend to perform the deception place the decanter of wine on its stand (which it is better to fill before the spectators) and withdraw the stopper, taking care instantly to place over it its appropriate cover, or the wine will be seen flowing out of it. Then, at any convenient distance, place two wine-glasses, and over them the covers; at the same time, with the nail of the fore-finger, scrape off the bees-wax over the holes; after a few seconds, on removing the covers, the wine will be found to have left the decanter, and the glasses previously empty filled with wine. B..

PROFESSOR LIEBIG.

OUR readers who have expressed so much satisfaction at reading the able papers on Agricultural Chemistry,' which are now in the course of publication in the Mirror,' will feel interested in what concerns Professor Liebig, and we are therefore induced to lay before them strictures by Dr Mohl on his book, known in this country under the title of Chemistry, in its applications to Agriculture and Physiology.' Throughout the whole work, his reviewer says, there is a want of original experiment, which is the more wonderful, since it is written by the greatest experimenter of his day, and the possessor of one of the largest laboratories in Europe. Nevertheless Liebig everywhere insists on the importance of experiments, and is continually appealing to those of Theodore De Saussure. Under these circumstances the work can only be looked upon as an attempt to construct a theory from data already known to the world.

The next general remark by Dr Mohl refers to the style in which the book is written. If not always correct, it is energetic and clear; and there is not the slightest indication of doubt or uncertainty about anything; the author seems to know everything for certain, and says it boldly out. This sort of style is apt to mislead the uninitiated, and frequently leads the author himself into positive contradictions; in

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fact, a thing is stated to be black or white according as it suits the author's purpose. For instance, in one place (p. 22) he says that leaves do not decompose carbonic acid in the shade (in which he is wrong), and in another place (p. 121) he says the leaves do decompose carbonic acid in the shade (in which he is right). Such contradictions are frequent, and prove that the author is neither well grounded in the subjects on which he has undertaken to write, nor has fully considered them. The manner in which Liebig attributes erroneous views, entertained perhaps by individual botanists, to "vegetable physiologists" and "botanists" in general, is objectionable and liable to mislead. Thus he says (p. 6) that vegetable physiologists" consider humus as the principal food of plants. Now this is not true; vegetable physiologists have no sacred books in which their code of laws is contained, and if any individuals have maintained such a view, the great body has not. In fact, Ingenhousz, Senebier, Curt Sprengel, Link, and De Candolle, have all either denied it or taken other views. The doctrine of humus is altogether a chemical one, and has only been supported by chemists. Again, Liebig says (p. 24) that "all botanists and vegetable physiologists have doubted the assimilation of the carbon of the atmosphere by plants." Yet all books on vegetable physiology contradict such a statement; and the absorption of carbonic acid from the atmosphere is so generally admitted, that Adolphe Brongniart, in the 13th volume of the Annales des Sciences,' has even proposed to account for the excessive vegetation of the primitive world upon the supposition that the atmosphere at the period those plants were growing contained a larger amount of carbonic acid in its composition than it now does. This might have been considered misrepresentation, had not Liebig in many other instances displayed an equal amount of ignorance of botanical literature and facts. As, for example, when he says (p. 91) that the woody fibre of lichens may be replaced by oxalate of lime, and that in Equisetum and the Bamboo silica assumes the form and functions of the woody bundles, and (p. 36) that a leaf secreting oil of lemons or oil of turpentine has a different structure from one secreting oxalic acid.

An instance of Liebig's misrepresentation of facts occurs in his rejecting the theory of the respiration of plants. It is well known that plants absorb oxygen in the dark, and give out carbonic acid; and this has been attributed by botanists to a true process of respiration. This, Liebig thinks, betrays great ignorance on the part of botanists, He believes the giving out of the carbonic acid to be merely a mechanical process, and the absorption of

oxygen to be a chemical one. He says all leaves, dead or living, absorb oxygen, and the more oil or tannic acid they possess, the more oxygen they absorb. He endeavours to prove this position by comparing, from tables made by De Saussure, the quantity of oxygen absorbed by the leaves of Pinus abies, Quercus robur, and Populus alba, as compared with the quantity absorbed by the Agave Americana. Mohl remarks on this statement, that, in the first place, the quantity of oxygen absorbed by the Agave is put down at 0.3, when it ought to have been at 0.8, so as to affect the calculations very considerably; and that, in the second place, those plants in De Saussure's table which contain neither oil nor tannic acid in any quantity, as the Triticum æstivum and Robinia pseudacacia, are altogether omitted, although they absorbed more oxygen than those mentioned by Liebig; whilst the oily Juniper and Rue, which are also omitted, aborbed less.

Again, Liebig states on this point, that the absorption of oxygen has nothing at all to do with the processes of life. How is it, then, asks Mohl, that plants begin to be blighted when oxygen is withdrawn; that seeds will not germinate; that leaves lose their irritability; that the motions of leaves and flowers cease; that leaf-buds and flower-buds will not open when brought into an atmosphere without oxygen?

These few remarks will show the claim Professor Liebig has to become a reformer of botanical science, or at least the view which some eminent men take of his pretensions.

Set a Priest to kill a Priest.-In the conspiracy of the Pazzi, in which Pope Sextus IV was an accomplice, an allotment being made by the conspirators of the different victims, Lorenzo de' Medici had fallen to Montesecco, a Condottiero in the service of the pontiff; but when the soldier was apprised that the murder, instead of being executed in the midst of a banquet, was to be committed in church and during the elevation of the host, he scrupled to join sacrilege to treason; and among the conspirators none but priests could be found whose conscience this idea did not affright. In fact, an apostolical scribe and a curate were charged with striking the blow which had alarmed the Condottiero. Qui familiaris utpote sacerdos; et ob id minus sacrorum locorum metuens."

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Dean Swift's Female Friends.-Swift, though a dignitary of the church, was intimate with the reputed mistresses of two kings, the Countess of Suffolk, George the Second's favourite, and the Countess of Orkney, King William's. The latter he pronounced to be the wisest woman he ever knew.”

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THE NOBLE HOUSE OF NAPIER. IN 'Burke's Peerage' we read, "Sir Archibald Napier, of Merchistoun, eldest son of the celebrated Sir John Napier, the inventor of logarithms, who died April the 3rd, 1617 (which Sir John was lineally descended from Sir Alexander Napier, comptroller of Scotland temp. James II, and Vice-Admiral in the reign of James III), having accompanied James VI into England, was sworn of the Privy Council, appointed Treasurer-Depute of Scotland in 1622; appointed Clerk and Judge of Session in 1623; created a Baronet of Nova Scotia, 2nd March, 1627; and elevated to the Peerage of Scotland, 4th May in the same year, as Baron Napier of Merchistoun. His Lordship married Margaret, daughter of John, first Marquis of Montrose, and dying in 1645, was succeeded by his only son.'

From the glance taken above of the progenitors of Sir Archibald, it will be seen that this family is one of great antiquity and imporance.

Sir Archibald, just mentioned, the second Baron, distinguished himself, fighting in the Royal cause during the civil wars. He left behind him two sons and a daughter, Archibald, Jean, and Thomas. The first succeeded to the title, and obtained, February the 6th, 1677, a new patent, containing an extension of the remaindership to his heirs female and their heirs male and female, and to his sisters and their heirs general whatsoever. He died unmarried in 1683, when the barony devolved upon the only child of his sister, Sir Thomas Nicholson, of Carnock, Bart., the nephew of the last peer, who dying under age and unmarried in 1686, the Hon. Margaret Napier, his aunt, became Baroness Napier. This lady was widow to Sir John Bristow, Esq., Secretary to the Admiralty in the reign of Charles II; her daughter Elizabeth, mistress of Napier, married, in 1699, William Scott, Esq., son of Sir Francis Scott, Bart., of Thirlestane. That lady had an only son,

who succeeded in the barony at the death of his grandmother, Lady Napier, in 1706, and assumed the surname of Napier, succeeding also to the baronetcy on the death of his father, in 1725. He married twice, had a family by each wife, and dying in 1673, was succeeded by his eldest son, William. He was a Lieut.-Colonel in the army, and Deputy Advocate-General of the forces in Scotland; he married the daughter of Charles, eighth Lord Cathcart, by whom he had an only son. This was Francis, the seventh Baron D.C.L. On his death, October 13, 1786, he was succeeded by his eldest son, William John. On his demise, October 11, 1834, the title descended to his son, Francis Napier, of Merchistoun, the present Peer, who was born September 15, 1819.

NOTES OF A TOUR IN FINLAND AND RUSSIA.-PART V. (For the Mirror.) THE police of Russia is so strict in some matters that it might reasonably be expected to be efficient as regards the safety both of person and property. Such, however, is far from being the case in either respect, and several instances of its inefficiency occurred even during our brief sojourn in St Petersburg. Two bodies bearing marks of violence were taken out of the canal within a few hundred yards of our boarding house in less than a fortnight, and such discoveries appear to be so frequent both in the canals and rivers, that these murders created neither excitement nor inquiry. From the supineness of the public regarding such matters, it seemed to be almost considered they concerned no one but the officers of police, and after the discovery of one body several hours were permitted to elapse before it was even taken out of the water; for, until the arrival of the proper officer, no one would presume to touch it. As the people of Russia are peculiarly exempt from insanity, it is reasonable to conclude