rods by which the machine is kept together.

Having first ascertained, by looking into the chimney, what course the flue immediately takes, a cloth is then to be fixed before the fireplace, with an horizontal bar, to keep it close, and the sides to be closed with two bars of the same sort, placed upright; the next part of the operation is to introduce through an opening in the cloth, the brush in its contracted form; this opening is then to be buttoned, or otherwise closed, to prevent the soot from coming into the apartments; then one of the rods is to be passed up the cord into the socket on the lower end of the rod which supports the brush; the other rods are in like manner, one by one in succession, to be brought up, until the brush is raised somewhat above the top of the chimney, observing to keep the cord constantly tight; and when those rods which have a screw in the socket are brought up, they are to be placed up the purchase, the cord put under the pulley, and drawn very tight, and screwed down, by which all the rods above will be firmly connected together, and the whole may be considered as one long flexible rod When it is supposed that the brush is near the top of the chimney, the person who is working it may move it up and down gently, and he will find, if the brush is quite out, that it will stop on returning on the pot, or chimney. When it is known to be out, the machine is to be drawn down, when the edges of the brush striking against the top of the chimney will cause it to expand; and there being a spring to prevent its contracting again, it will sweep down the soot. The whisk being long and elastic, makes the brush capable of filling flues of very different diameters. If, as sometimes happens, there is any difficulty found in drawing the brush into the upper part of the chimney, the rods must be thrust up again somewhat higher, to alter the direction, then carefully drawn down; in doing

which, the person who works the machine should grasp, with his left hand, the rod immediately above that which he is separating with his right hand, otherwise he may chance to have some of those above loosen and slide down the cord, which will render the work unpleasant and difficult; the rods as they are brought down, are to be laid carefully one by one in as small a compass as they conveniently can be, that they may not dirt the rooms, With a little attention they may be placed like a bundle of sticks, side by side, in very little space. When the brush is down, it is to be shaken withinside the cloth; the spring must then be pushed in, and the brush, which was expanded,will fall into the form it went up. It will be proper to let the cloth remain a short time up (where great cleanliness is required) that the finer particle of soot may subside within it.

If the brush has been unused for a length of time, the hinges, &c. of it must be examined to see if they will move freely, otherwise it may not properly expand when in use. When the machine is used for extinguishing a chimney on fire, a coarse cloth is to be tied over the brush, and dipped into water, then passed up as above directed for sweeping chimneys.

It is now more than eighteen months since Mr. Smart, the inventor, first brought this machine into use, since which the men whom he employs have swept with it about two thousand times. The success and approbation with which he has met, has been far beyond what was expected from any machine which could be worked entirely from below, over and above the principal and important purpose for which it was designed (that of preventing, in future, infants from climbing the flues), the vast quantity of soot it brings down, and great cleanliness with which the operation is performed (where proper precaution is taken), have brought it very deservedly into great repute. One person is sufficient for performing the

whole of the work with this machine, but it will be found very convenient to have an assistant, to give up the rods from the ground, and re-place them there when brought down. Those unfortunate little creatures, whose miserable lot it has been heretofore to climb chimnies, may now be employed as assistants for these purposes, who, as they grow older, will become capable of working the machines themselves; and, instead of being turned off without any employment when their apprenticeship is over, they may continue with their masters as useful hands. It appears from experience that about ninety-nine chimnies out of an hundred may be cleansed by this machine, occasionally using brushes of different sizes and forms as circumstances may require; and the remaining few can probably be cleansed by some of the following means, either 1st, by having a fixed apparatus at the top, with a chain descending down the flue, and a brush fastened to it, which contrivance has already been invented. 2d, By drawing up and down a rope, and a brush, one person being on the top, and the other in the room below, as practised in Edinburgh and many other places. 3d, By firing the soot, and burning it out, as is frequently done in Yorkshire and in country places in America. 4th, By taking out a brick or tile, in the manner now practised for cleansing hot houses and other flues.

That new-built chimnies may be swept with machines of this kind, it will be necessary to pay some attention to the construction of them. Some persons have already had their chimneys so constructed that they may be easily and effectually cleansed with machines. The mode adopted is that of making the shape of the flues square instead of a parallelogram, with long sweeps at the elbows; a circular form though more expensive would have been preferable.

A very useful purpose, has been answered by this machine, that of extinguishing chimnies when on fire.

VOL. III. NO. XIX.

For the Literary Magazine.

POPLARS.

THE poplar, commonly called the Lombardy poplar, appears to be nearly as fashionable in Britain as in America. There are, indeed, several drawbacks on their indiscri minate use, which experience has discovered; and if the balance be not kept even by new discoveries of their virtues and utilities, it is quite probable that they may grow into discredit with as much rapidity as they have hitherto grown in popularity.

The following enquiry has been made by cautious persons, and the truth of the case is certainly of no limited or trivial inport :

Are the roots of poplar trees capable of insinuating themselves laterally under buildings near which they are planted, so as to weaken and endanger the foundation?

For the Literary Magazine.

ON ALPHABETIC REFORMATIONS.

THERE are few subjects in which schemes of reformation have been more frequently recommended, than in the arrangement and the sounds of the English alphabet. The strange, capricious, and violent anomalies which use has sanctioned in the present arrangement and pronunciation, are evident to every observer, and the young and sanguine, who imagine that truth has great efficacy when eloquently or seriously enforced, are extremely prone to publish their favourite schemes, and even to set the example of a better mode in their own practice.

Experience, however, has long ago shown the impossibility of introducing any scheme of this sort into popular use; and if such a change could be wrought, the permanence of any scheme of uniformity may 4

reasonably be doubted. Though an alphabet were formed, that should contain a number of letters precisely equal to the number of simple articulate sounds belonging to the language, are we sure these simple sounds would not rapidly deviate from their alphabetical exactness, when they became subjected to those numerous combinations that are requisite to form a copious language? Would they be not liable to the same instability, arising from fashion, from caprice, and a disregard of uniform pronunciation, that is so much objected to our present language, both oral and written?

Some few of those who have bestowed most attention on the formation of a new and more consistent alphabet, seem to have thought its adoption impracticable. There has not, perhaps, been a more accurate investigator of the formation of letters than Holder, whose treatise on the Elements of Speech was printed in the year 1669: yet he was chief ly led to study the subject from the laudable motive of discovering a steady and effectual way of instructing deaf and dumb persons; and after pointing out the imperfections of our present alphabet, he very candidly concludes

"It is not be hoped or imagined that the incongruous alphabets, and abuses of writing, can ever be jostled out of their possession of all libraries and books, and universal habit of mankind. This were to imply that all books in being should be destroyed and abolished, being first new printed after such rectified alphabets; and that all the age should be prevailed with to take new pains to unlearn those habits, which have cost them so much labour."

This irregularity might be easily proved to be inseparable from the very nature of language. It is common to all tongues, living or dead; for, if the latter be preserved at all, those that read and speak it commit the same murder on its uniformity that they do upon their own.

A great deal has been said, by ancient and modern scholars, on

the true mode of pronunciation, as to sound, and quantity, and accent of the learned languages. From a vain notion that the Greeks and Romans must have spoken their own languages best, their inquiries have almost wholly turned, not on the true system, but on the system that actually prevailed in old times. I hope none of my readers will laugh at me for this distinction between the true and the actual system. The essence of every just system must be simplicity and regularity; but all the actual modes of speaking languages is replete with confusion and irregularity.

That the Greeks were as culpable, in this respect, as others, might be truly inferred from analogy; but this has, in some sort, been lately evinced by the evidence of hearing. There is a curious paper, in a late volume of the Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy, containing an account of an interview between the writer and some Greeks, natives of Athens, and well educated men. He requested them to read passages in the poets and orators, and carefully noted their pronunciation, and found it as anomalous, and as totally regardless of quantity and accent, as that of any inhabitant of England in reading or speaking Greek.

"Il n'y a presque pas une seule voyelle," says a French writer, speaking of his own language, " une seule diphthongue, une seule consonne, dont la valeur soit tellement constante, que l'euphonie n'en puisse disposer, soit en alterant le son, soit en le supprimant."

For the Literary Magazine.

STATISTICAL ACCOUNT OF

FRANCE.

FRANCE is situated in the middle of the temperate zone, between the 42d and 51st degrees of north latitude, extending 720 miles from north to south, and 660 miles from

year, in a central part of England, will enable us to form a juster conception of the British climate, than any loose or popular description can convey:

The mean height of the barometer, for the year, was equal to 29.75; that of the thermometer to 50° 65'. The quantity of rain somewhat exceeded 34 inches. Rain fell on 103 days of the year, which is a proportion of not much less than one in three. It snowed or hailed on 17 days. 144 days were very brilliant; that is, somewhat more than one third of the year. The remaining 102 were nearly equally divided between cloudy and fair.

554,407

The conscription alone will furnish near a million of soldiers. France on a great emergency, might select her defenders from six millions of men able to carry arms.

Her marine power is inferior to what it was in the reign of Louis XIV, or to what it may yet become under Bonaparte. A navy is not formed with the same promptitude that an army is raised; but France possesses the men, the ship builders, the instruments, and, above all, the emulation of her great nautical neighbour, which are requisite to produce, when the violent restraints of the present war are removed, a navy as vast and formidable as her

For the Literary Magazine.

MADELINA.

A female portrait.

The writer of this was frequently importuned, by a lively, volatile girl, to draw her character: in compliance with this request, the following was written.

MADELINA, you wish me to What a draw your character. strange wish, to be preferred by a young lady to a young man, who has seldom seen you, at times and in situations which admit of no disguise, and which draw forth all our secret foibles, and who, at best, has neither a sober nor impartial judgment. Still, however, I will do my best. If I blame you, your pride may reasonably impute it to my ignorance; if I praise, your modesty will natu rally suggest some doubts of the sincerity of one, who sets a very high value on your good opinion, and who thinks your smiles cheaply bought, even at the price of some duplicity.

And now to begin: but how? With the person to be sure. Beauty is never of small moment in a woman's eye, and that is a cause of deep regret to those, who love true

female dignity, happiness, and virtue. In the passion for beauty, shall we find the source of all the follies, and many of the crimes of women. So common is this passion, that, though a distinction of the sex, it is no characteristic of the individual. And yet had I a seraph's eloquence, it should be incessantly exerted to persuade the woman whom I value, that, inasmuch as she prizes beauty (particularly if she herself be beautiful), is she silly, wicked, or unfortunate. After this, you will hardly expect me to say any thing of your person.

:

But there is another reason for my silence my decision would be no test of the truth. The female form generally pleases in different degrees, as it is viewed in different lights, at different hours, and by different eyes. The sentence of today, suggested by negligence of dress, captious behaviour, or unamiable sentiments, would be reversed to-morrow, at the intercession of a few smiles and affabilities, or at the pleading of a robe, brilliantly fair, and enchantingly becoming. So, we'll say nothing of thy person, Madelina.

Are you witty? Are you amiable? Are you wise? How hard to answer these questions, so as to convey to the object of our scrutiny, our precise meaning! I am almost afraid to proceed. To tell the truth is not always to make either wise or happy; and, when the truth breeds nothing but resentment or misery, why should it be told? But come, In order to be safe, I will sketch what I think a good character, and leave it to you to find its resemblance to yourself.

The good girl, whom I wish to meet with, has a face that nothing but the soul within makes beautiful. It never yet was clouded by anger; never yet had peevishness, resentment, envy, even a momentary place in it. The perverseness or malig, nity of others cannot be so great or incessant, as to conquer her patience. Her charity is large enough to take in every offence. Her pene

tration is clear enough to see the guilt and folly of impatience, in any situation. She has no sullen looks; no hasty plaints; no keen retorts; all is placid sufferance, and heavenly serenity. She is good, inasmuch as she never treats others hardly or capriciously. She is perfect, inasmuch as the injuries of others, so far from provoking vengeance, never even cause indignation, nor stop the current of that charity that flows for all.

She cultivates her mind, by regular and close attention to every profitable study. She has leisure, and the greatest part of it is spent in reading. She deems this an amusement indeed, but also a duty. She indulges, without scruple, that inclination, which leads her to works of taste, fancy, and domestic morality, because she regards these as the regulators, sweeteners, and embellishers of life; but while these are her favourite pursuits, she by no means despises or shuns the more rugged paths of history or science.

Still, however, she is no book. worm, no recluse, no pedant. She meditates and reasons for herself, and her studious hours are betrayed, not by mere literary talk, by anecdotes of authors, and criticisms on their works, by hard words, and formal quotations, but by a certain dignity of thought and refinement of language, which nothing but familiar converse with books can give, and which diffuse themselves through all her conversation.

She is fond of society. The worthy she caresses; the gay, thoughtless, frivolous, immoral, or indecent, she treats, when she meets them, with strict politeness, but she never seeks them, and is at home to them as rarely as possible. She endures their company, when unavoidable, but you cannot subject her to a more mortifying penance.

In her dress, she studies not merely the decent and becoming, but also the frugal. One of her chief cares is to shun all superfluous expenses. She always remembers, that her family are not opulent; that