will be a fool in whatever atmosphere you place him." "You can prove that," answered the doctor, "by going up alone."

But it is time to draw this article to a conclusion. The writer is well aware that justice has not been done to the French philosophers, who have been from the first the most active in making valuable experiments by means of the balloon. In England this vast discovery has, until lately, been little used, save as a means of amusement; within the last few months, however, several ascents for scientific purposes have taken place, the results of which have been discussed among scientific people.

THE DINNER OF THE MONTHS.

ONCE

NCE upon a time, the Months determined to dine together. They were a long while deciding who should have the honor of being the host upon so solemn an occasion; but the lot at length fell upon December, for although this old gentleman's manners were found to be rather cold upon first acquaintance, yet it was well known that when once you got under his roof, there was not a merrier or more hospitable person in existence. The messenger too, Christmas-day, whom he sent round with his cards of invitation, won the hearts of all; although he played several mad pranks, and received many a box in return. February begged to be excused coming to the dinner, as she was in very bad spirits on account of the loss of her youngest child, the twenty-ninth, who had lately left her, and was not expected to return for four years. Her objection, however, was overruled; and being seated at table between the smiling May, and that merry old fellow October, she appeared to enjoy the evening's entertainment as much as any of the company.

The dinner was a superb one; all the company having contributed to furnish out the table. January thought for the thirtieth time what he should give, and then determined to send a calf's head. February, not being a very productive month, was also a little puzzled; but at length resolved to contribute an enormous cake, which she managed to manufacture in fine style, with the assistance of her servant, Valentine, who was an excellent fellow at that sort of ware, but especially at bridecake. March and April agreed to furnish

all the fish; May to decorate the dishes with flowers; June to supply plenty of excellent cider; July and August to provide the dessert; September a magnificent course of all sorts of game, excepting pheasants, which exception was supplied by October; and November engaged that there should be an abundance of ice. The rest of the eatables were provided by the worthy host himself.

Just before sitting down to table, a slight squabble arose about precedency; some of the company insisting that the first in rank was January, and some that it was March. The host, however, decided in favor of January, whom he placed in the seat of honor, at his right hand; November, a prim, blue-nosed old maid, sat at his left; and June, a pleasant, goodtempered fellow, although occasionally rather too warm, sat opposite him at the end of the table.

The dinner was admirably served. Christmas-day was the principal waiter; but the host had been obliged to borrow the attendance of some of his guests' servants, and accordingly Twelfth-night, Shrove-Tuesday, and Michaelmas-day, officiated in various departments; though Shrove-Tuesday was speedily turned out for making rather too free with a prim, demure servant-maid, called Good-Friday, while she was toasting some hot crossbuns for the tea-table.

A short, squab little fellow, called St. Thomas's-day, stood behind December's chair, and officiated as toast-master; and much merriment was excited by the contrast between the diminutive appearance of this man, and the Longest-day, who stood behind June, at the other end of the table. Master Thomas, however, was a very useful fellow; and, besides performing the high official duty which we have mentioned, he drew the curtains, stirred the fire, lighted and snuffed the candles, and, like all other little men, seemed to think himself of more importance than anybody else.

The pretty blushing May was the general toast of the company, and many compliments were passed upon the elegant manner in which she had decorated the dishes. Old January tried to be very sweet upon her, but she received him coldly, as he was known not to be a loyal subject, and to have once stolen a crown and sceptre, and hidden them in a grave;

and May, who was loyal to the back-bone, had much trouble in finding out and restoring them. January at length ceased to persecute her with his attentions, and transferred them to November, who was of the same politics as himself, although she had not been quite so successful in supporting them. Poor May had scarcely got rid of her venerable lover, before that sentimental swain, April, began to tell her that he was absolutely dying for her. This youth was one moment all sunshine, and smiles, and rapture; and the next he dissolved in tears, clouds gathered upon his brow, and he looked a fitter suitor for November than for May, who having at last ninted as much to him, he left her in a nuff, and entered into close conversation with September, who, although much his senior, resembled him in many particulars. July, who was of a desperately hot temper, was every now and then a good deal irritated by March, a dry old fellow, as cool as a cucumber, who was continually passing his jokes upon him. At one time July went so far as to threaten him with a prosecution for something he had said; but March, knowing what he was about, always managed to keep on the windy side of the law, and to throw dust in the eyes of his accusers. July, however, contrived to have his revenge; for being called upon for a song, he gave "The dashing white sergeant" in great style, and laid a peculiar emphasis upon the words "march! march! away!" at the same time motioning to his antagonist to leave the room.

drunk with the usual honors; when April, being a soft-spoken youth, and ambitious of distinction as an orator, began to return thanks for them in a very flowery speech, but was soon coughed down by December and March; and March, by the by, at length got into such high favor with his old enemy, July, that the latter was heard to give him an invitation, saying that if ever he came to his side of the Zodiac, he should be most happy to see him. October told the host that, with his leave, he would drink no more wine, but that he should be glad of some home-brewed, and a pipe. To this December acceded, and said he should be happy to join him, and he thought his friend March would do the same. March having nodded assent, they set to, and a pretty puffing and blowing they made among them. April, however, continued to drink Madeira; while June, July, and September, stuck to the Burgundy.

After repeated summonses to the drawing-room, they joined the ladies at the tea-table. November drew herself up, and affected to be quite overpowered by the smell of smoke, which March, October, and December, had brought in with them; although it was well known that the old lady herself could blow a cloud as well as any of them. October seated himself by May, and said he hoped that his pipe would not have the same effect upon her as upon her aunt; and after having very gracefully assured him that she was not at all annoyed by it, he told her that he would make her exercise her own sweet pipe before the evening was much older, which, instead of annoying, would delight everybody. August, a grave, stately matron, of extraordinary beauty, although perhaps un peu passé, officiated as tea-maker. Good-Friday, who by this time had re

On the retirement of the ladies-February, May, August, and November-the host proposed their healths, which were

Tuesday had thrown her, handed about the toasted buns; and Swithin, a servant of July, was employed to keep the tea-pot supplied with water, and which he too often did to overflowing.

Tea being over, the old folks went to conversing; and the young ones, including October, who managed to hide his years very successfully, to the pianoforte. May was the prima donna, and delighted every | one, especially poor April, who was alternately all smiles and tears, during the whole of her performance. October gave

them a hunting song, which caused even the tables to be deserted; and August sang a sweet melancholy canzonet, which was rapturously encored. April both sang and played most unmercifully; but the company had an ugly trick of yawning over his comic songs, and were ready to expire with laughter at his pathetics.

At length, Candlemas-day having returned from seeing old January home, his mistress, February, took leave of the company. April, who was a little the worse for the wine he had drunk, insisted on escorting November; although she held several servants in waiting, and her road was in an opposite direction to his own. May went away in her own carriage, and undertook to set June down, who lived very near her. The road was hilly and steep, but her coachman, Ascension-day, got the horses very well to the top; and July and August both walked home, each preceded by a dog-day, with a lighted torch. September and October, who were next-door neighbors, went away in the same hackney-coach; and March departed as he came, on the back of a rough Shetland pony,

DAYS WITHOUT NIGHTS. THERE is nothing that strikes a stranger

the season of the year when the days are the longest, than the absence of night. Our countryman, Dr. Baird, tells us he had no conception of the effect produced, before his arrival at Stockholm, five hundred miles distant from Guttenberg. He arrived in the morning, and, in the afternoon, went to see some friends. He had not taken notes of time, and returned about midnight; it was as light as it is here half an hour before sun-down. You could see distinctly. But all was quiet in the streets; it seemed as if the inhabitants were gone away, or were dead. No signs of life; stores closed.

The sun in June goes down at Stockholm at a little before ten o'clock. There is a great illumination all night, as the sun passes round the earth toward the north pole; and the refraction of its rays is such that you can see to read at midnight, without artificial light. There is a mountain at the head of Bothnia, where, on the 21st of June, the sun does not go down at all. Travelers go there to see it.

A steamboat goes up from Stockholm for the purpose of carrying those who are curious, to witness the phenomenon. It occurs only one night. When the sun goes down to the horizon, you can see the whole face of it, and in five minutes it begins to rise.

At the North Cape, latitude seventy-two degrees, the sun does not go down for several weeks. In June it would be about twenty-five degrees above the horizon at midnight. The way the people there know that it is midnight, is-they see the sun rise. The changes in these high latitudes, from summer to winter, are so great, that we can have no conception of them at all. In the winter time the sun disappears, and is not seen for weeks. Then it comes and shows its face. Afterward, it remains for ten, fifteen, or twenty minutes, and then descends; and finally it does not set at all, but makes almost a circle around the heavens. Dr. Baird was asked how they managed in regard to hired persons, and what they considered a day? He could not say; but supposed they worked by the hour, and twelve hours would be considered a day's work.

Birds and animals take their accustomed rest at the usual hours. The doctor did not know how they learnt the time, but they had; and go to rest whether the sun

trees about seven o'clock, P. M., and stay there until the sun is well up in the morning; and the people get into this habit of late rising too. The first morning Dr. Baird awoke in Stockholm, he was surprised to see the sun shining into his room. He looked at his watch, and found it was only three o'clock! the next time he awoke, it was five o'clock; but there were no persons in the street. The Swedes in the cities are not very industrious, owing, probably, to the climate.

A SOLEMN THOUGHT.-It has been observed, with much significance, that every morning we enter upon a new day, carrying still an unknown future in its bosom. How pregnant and stirring the reflection! Thoughts may be born to-day which may never die! Feelings may be awakened to-day which may never be extinguished. Hope may be excited to-day which may never expire. Acts may be performed to-day, the consequences of which may not be realized till eternity.