Let him never run with the multitude to do evil; and especially never join in any illegal combination. Let him avoid bad company of both sexes, as he would the sting of a deadly serpent. Let him consider God as the perpetual eye-witness of his conduct. Let him avoid idleness and loitering, which will be sure to betray him into various kinds of mischief Lastly, Let him herein be exercised, to have always a conscience void of offence towards God and man. Thus will he lay a sure foundation of happiness in this life, and a better; through the merits of Him, who hath assured us, that neither the care of the master, nor the diligence of the servant, shall lose its reward. ACCOUNT OF THE CELEBRATED SLIDE OF ALPNACH, CONSTRUCTED ON MOUNT PILATUS BY M. RUPP, ENGINEER. (From the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal.) For many centuries, the rugged flanks and the deep gorges of Mount Pilatus in Switzerland were covered with impenetrable forests. Lofty precipices encircled them on all sides. Even the daring hunters were scarcely able to reach them; and the inhabitants of the Arvalley had never conceived the idea of disturbing them with the axe. These immense forests were therefore permitted to grow, and to perish, without being of the least utility to man, till a foreigner, conducted into their wild recesses in the pursuit of the chamois, was struck with wonder at the sight, and directed the attention of several Swiss gentlemen to the extent and superiority of the timber. The most intelligent and skilful individuals, however, considered it quite impracticable to avail themselves of such inaccessible stores. It was not till November 1810 that M. Rupp and three Swiss gentlemen, * entertaining more sanguine hopes, drew up a plan of a slide, founded *son trigonometrical measurements. Having purchased a certain extent of the forests from the commune of Alpnach for 6000 crowns, they began the construction of the slide, and completed it in 1812. The slide of Alpnach is formed entirely of about 25,000 large pine trees, deprived of their bark, and united together in a very ingenious manner, without the aid of iron. It occupied about 160 workmen during eighteen months, and cost nearly 100,000 francs, or £4250. It is about three leagues, or 44,000 English feet long, and terminates in the lake of Lucerne. It has the form of a trough, about six feet broad, and from three to six feet deep. Its bottom is formed of three trees, the middle one of which has a groove cut out, Bin the direction of its length, for receiving small rills of water, which are conducted into it from various places, for the purpose of diminishing the friction. The whole of the slide is sustained by about 2,000 VOL. I, supports, and in many places it is attached, in a very ingenious manner, to the rugged precipices of granite. The direction of the slide is sometimes straight and sometimes zigzag, with an inclination of from 10 to 18 degrees. It is often carried along the sides of hills and the flanks of precipitous rocks, and sometimes passes over their summits. Occasionally it goes under ground, and at other times it is conducted over the deep gorges by scaffoldings 120 feet in height. The boldness which characterises this work, the sagacity displayed in all its arrangements, and the skill of the engineer, have excited the wonder of every person who has seen it. Before any step could be taken in its erection, it was necessary to cut several thousand trees to obtain a passage through the impenetrable thickets; and as the workmen advanced, men were posted at certain distances in order to point out the road for their return, and to discover, in the gorges, the places where the piles of wood had been established. M. Rupp was himself obliged, more than once, to be suspended by cords, in order to descend precipices many hundred feet high; and in the first months of the undertaking he was attacked with a violent fever, which deprived him of the power of superintending his workmen. Nothing, however, could diminish his invincible perseverance. He was carried every day to the mountain in a barrow, to direct the labours of the workmen, which was absolutely necessary, as he had scarcely two good carpenters among them all, the rest having been hired by accident, without any of the knowledge which such an undertaking required. M. Rupp had also to contend against the prejudices of the peasantry. He was supposed to have communion with the devil. He was charged with heresy, and every obstacle was thrown in the way of an enterprise, which they regarded as absurd and impracticable. All these difficulties, however, were surmounted, and he had at last the satisfaction of observing the trees descend from the mountain with the rapidity of lightning. The larger pines, which were about 100 feet long, and ten inches thick at their smaller extremity, ran through the space of three leagues, or nearly nine miles, in two minutes and a half, and during their descent, they appeared to be only a few feet in length. The arrangements for this part of the operation were extremely simple. From the lower end of the slide to the upper end, where the trees were introduced, workmen were posted at regular distances, and as soon as every thing was ready, the workman at the lower end of the slide cried out to the one above him, Lachez," (Let go.) The cry was repeated from one to another, and reached the top of the slide in three minutes. The workmen at the top of the slide then cried out to the one below him, "Il vient" (It comes), and then the tree was instantly launched down the slide, preceded by the cry which was repeated from post to post. As soon as the tree had reached the bottom, and plunged into the lake, the cry of Lachez was repeated as before, and a new tree was launched in a similar manner. By these means a tree descended every five or six minutes, provided no accident hap J pened to the slide, which sometimes took place, but which was instantly repaired when it did. In order to shew the enormous force which the trees acquired from the great velocity of their descent, M. Rupp made arrangements for causing some of the trees to spring from the slide. They penetrated by their thickest extremities no less than from eighteen to twenty-four feet into the earth; and one of the trees having by accident struck against the other, it instantly cleft it through its whole length, as if it had been struck by lightning. After the trees had descended the slide, they were collected into rafts upon the lake, and conducted to Lucerne. From thence they descended the Reuss, then the Aar to near Brugg, afterwards to Waldshut by the Rhine, then to Basle, and even to the sea when it was necessary. In order that none of the small wood might be lost, M. Rupp established in the forest large manufactories of charcoal. He erected magazines for preserving it when manufactured, and had made arrangements for the construction of barrels for the purpose of carrying it to the market. In winter, when the slide was covered with snow, the barrels were made to descend on a kind of sledges. The wood which was not fit for being carbonised, was heaped up and burnt, and the ashes packed up and carried away during the winter. A few days before the author of the preceding account visited the slide, an Inspector of the Navy had come for the purpose of examining the quality of the timber. He declared that he had never seen any timber that was so strong, so fine, and of such a size, and he concluded an advantageous bargain for 1000 trees. Such is a brief account of a work undertaken and executed by a single individual, and which has excited a very high degree of interest in every part of Europe. We regret to add, that this magnificent structure no longer exists, and that scarcely a trace of it is to be seen upon the flanks of Mount Pilatus. Political circumstances having taken away the principal source of the demand for timber, and no other market having been found, the operation of cutting and transporting the trees necessarily ceased. The money, we understand, which was paid for the Forest, has been employed in building at Alpnach a church, in every respect disproportioned to the population and resources of the village. Note The Editor has to add, that a gentleman who has honoured this Miscellany with his contributions, visited this astonishing work before its destruction, and saw trees passing from one end of the slide to the other, in the wonderfully short space of four minutes. THE ENGLISH MONTHS. -MAY. THIS is the month of gladness. This is the season which all poets have chosen to celebrate with an earnestness which makes us some...? times apt to fancy that the breezes are not so mild, nor the sun so invigorating, as they appeared to the happy imaginations of our forefathers. But we ought to recollect the change in the calendar, by which May-day now commences some days earlier than at the time when some of the finest descriptions of the month were written; and if we have cheerful dispositions and healthful bodies, we shall find, about the middle of the month, enough to warrant our agreement with one of our early and most beautiful poets, Spencer, that May is "the fairest maid on ground." It is now that the leafing of the trees is almost perfected. The woods and clumps of forest trees present an impenetrable shade; and the little villages and single cottages are sometimes so embowered, that we come suddenly upon them in our walks, and are almost startled at the sound of life in the leafy solitudes. Every tree has its distinguishing characteristic: "No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Now green, now tawny, and ere autumn yet Have changed the woods, in scarlet honours bright." COWPER. The grass how springs up into strength and thickness; while the buttercups, with their rich glow of yellow, relieve the eye from the universal green of this time of luxuriance. The young corn covers the arable grounds with its scattered and waving shoots, and the farmer, as he reposes for a few weeks after his spring-tide toil, looks forward with anxious hope to the season of maturity. The hedges begin to be covered with the beautiful and fragrant hawthorn, whose blossoms, as in honour, are called May; and a variety of sparkling flowers are creeping about their banks, to supply the place of the primrose and violet of April. This month is the principal time in which birds hatch and rear their young. After they have formed their nests with the most curious art, the female lays her eggs, and then sits upon them with a patience which is at once astonishing and affecting. In almost every species the male bird performs his share of the duty. He either brings food home to his solicitous mate; or, perched upon some neighbouring bush, watches over her safety, and solaces her with his songs; or he relieves her from her wearisome task, while she herself flies abroad to seek food. When the young ones are hatched, the tenderness of both is equally surprising and admirable. It is thus that the Almighty Creator has bestowed those instincts which preserve a succession of every creature. Such instincts afford to man the most striking example of those duties which are expected from his reason; and the most perfect illustrations of that universal Love which fills the whole earth. The sagacity of bees again claims our attention towards the end of May. The hives now send forth their swarms, to seek new abodes for the exercise of their industry, and the preservation of their stores. These colonies principally consist of young bees, headed by a queen, whom they follow wherever she may lead. These wonderful insects would generally choose some hollow trunk of a tree for their settlement; but man is on the alert to take advantage of their emigration ;-he provides them with a dwelling, and their honey is his reward. As the traveller passes along the hedge-side he is now often attracted by the light of the glow-worm, shedding a brilliant lustre about the green leaves of her retreat, and, by her most singular quality, calling his attention more forcibly to the wonders of nature, than the myriads of wonderful insects that fly around him at every hour. On the evenings of May, when the glow-worm lights her lamp, the nightingale sings; and it perhaps is to the circumstance of the splendour of the one having been seen, and the harmony of the other heard, at the same moment, that we owe a beautiful little poem by our favourite poet, Cowper. We cannot resist the occasion to introduce it: THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM. A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long |