of force than is necessary to supply waste, produces fever. The human body is a self-regulating steam engine, burning daily (in an adult) 13.9 ounces of carbon. The motive force of animals is the excess of force generated by food over the necessary supply for waste. In plants this whole force is expended in growth, in animals in muscular force and motion. There is throughout this work not a single attempt to perplex the reader with technical terms and abstruse reasoning. On the contrary, no expression occurs which is not explained, or supposed to be familiar to the reader from the most elementary course of reading. When reasoning, the author always employs the most striking comparisons and analogies, of which the following may serve as an example: "Man, when confined to animal food, respires like the carnivora, at the expense of the matters produced by the metamorphosis of organized tissues, and just as the lion, tiger, hyena, &c., in the cages of a menagerie, are com pelled to accellerate the waste of the organized tissue, by incessant motion, in order to furnish the matter necessary for respiration, so the savage, for the very same object, is forced to make the most laborious exertion, and go through a vast amount of muscular exercise. He is compelled to consume force merely to supply matter for respiration." And again "Cultivation is the economy of force. Science teaches us the simplest means of obtaining the greatest effect with the smallest expenditure of power, and with given means to produce a maximum of force. An unprofitable exertion of power, the waste of force in agriculture, in other branches of industry, in science, or in social economy, is characteristic of the savage state or the want of culti vation." HARPER & BROTHERS have sent us a new edition of the celebrated French Grammar of ROEL and CHAPTAL, revised and corrected by C. P. Bordenave, Professor of Languages, in New York. This is one of the very best works of the kind, and our readers who are mastering French cannot do better than buy a copy. From the same firm we have also received "Bangs' Life of Arminius," No. 3 of "Gibbon's Decline and Fall" and No. 1 of the "Pocket Edition of Select Novels," containing "The Yemassee," by W. Gilmore Simms, a novel too well known to require praise here. LITTLE NELL IN THE STORM.-We presume that there is not a reader of "GRAHAM," who does not remember "LITTLE NELL," the most exquisite creation of the genius of DICKENS. This character is alone sufficient to give him an immortality of fame, and we never think of it, but we are more than half inclined to pardon his ill-nature, and forget his absurdities. Our townsman, G. W. CONARROE, has admirably painted the scene in the Storm, and the burin of STEEL Well conveys it to our readers. Mr. CONARROE is yet what we may call a young artist, but his rapid improvement and advance in his profession augur well for his future fame. Some of his late pictures evince a cultivated taste and high genius, and all show creditable powers. We purpose frequently to give original pictures to the subscribers to "GRAHAM" from his pencil. The following is the description from which the artist took his subject: "One evening, a holiday night with them, Nell and her grandfather went out to walk. They had been rather closely confined for some days, and, the weather being warm, they strolled a long distance. Clear of the town, they took a footpath which struck through some pleasant fields, judging that it would terminate in the road they quitted, and enable them to return that way. It made, however, a much wider circuit than they had supposed, and thus they were tempted onward until sunset, When they reached the track of which they were in search; and stopped to rest. the Je It had been gradually getting overcast, and now the sky was dark and lowering, save where the glory departing sun piled up masses of gold and burning fi caying embers of which gleamed here and there though the black veil, and shone redly down upon the earth-The wind began to moan in hollow murmurs, as the sun-went down, carrying glad day elsewhere; and a train dull clouds coming up against it, menaced thunder and lightning. Large drops of rain soon began to fall, and, as the storm-clouds came sailing onward, others supplied th void they left behind, and spread over all the sky. Th was heard the low rumbling of distant thunder, then the ht ning quivered, and then the darkness of an hour se have gathered in an instant. to "Fearful of taking shelter beneath a tree or hedge, the old man and the child hurried along the high-road,floping to find some house in which they could seek a refuge from the storm, which had now burst forth in earnest, and every rain, confused by the deafening thunder, and bewildered moment increased in violence. Drenched with the pelting by the glare of the forked lightning, they would have passed a solitary house without being aware of its vicinity, had not a man, who was standing at the door, called lustily to them to enter. "Your cars ought to be better than other folks' at any rate, if you make so little of the chance of being struck blind,' he said, retreating from the door, and shading his eyes with his hands, as the jagged lightning came again. What were you going past for, eh? he added, as he closed the door and led the way along a passage to a room "We didn't see the house, sir, till we heard you calling,' Nell replied. behind. No wonder,' said the man, with this lightning in one's eyes, by-the-by. You had better stand by the fire here, and dry yourselves a bit. You can call for what you like if you want any thing. If you don't want any thing you 're not obliged to give an order, don't be afraid of that. This is a public-house, that 's all. The Valiant Soldier is pretty well known hereabouts.' "Is this house called the Valiant Soldier, sir?' asked Nell. "I thought every body knew that,' replied the landlord. Where have you come from, if you don't know the Valiant Soldier by James Groves-Jem Groves-honest Jem Groves, as is a man of unblemished moral character, and has a good dry skittle-ground. If any man has got any thing to say again Jem Groves, let him say it to Jem Groves, and Jem Groves can accommodate him with a customer on any terms from four pound a side to forty.' "With these words, the speaker tapped himself on the waistcoat to intimate that he was the Jem Groves so highly eulogized, sparred scientifically at a counterfeit Jem Groves, who was sparring at society in general, from a black frame over the chimney-piece, and applying a halfemptied glass of spirits and water to his lips, drank Jem Groves' health." |