With many tears she acknowledged her
grateful obligations for the considerate and
humane treatment she had received in prison.
She disclosed her poverty, and her utter
friendlessness; expressed her horror of the
temptations to which she was exposed; and
implored the Governor's counsel and assistance.
Without a moment's hesitation, she
was advised to go at once to a lady of station,
whose extensive charities and zealous services,
rendered to the outcasts of society at that
time, were most remarkable. She cheerfully
acquiesced. She found the good lady at home,
related her history, met with sympathy and
active aid, and, after remaining for a time, by
her benevolent recommendation, in a
charitable establishment, was recommended to a
wealthy family, to whom every particular of
her history was confided. In this service she
acquitted herself with perfect trustfulness and
fidelity, and won the warmest regard. The
incident which had led to her unmerited
imprisonment, broke off the engagement between
Captain Jennings and Miss Newton; but
whether the former had ever an opportunity
of indemnifying the poor girl for the suffering
she had undergone, the narrator has never
been able to learn. This is, in every particular,
a true case of prison experience.

THE CHEMISTRY OF A PINT OF BEER.

AT a late meeting of a very useful little
Metropolitan Mechanics' Institution, which it
is not necessary to our present purpose to
name, a discourse on the subject above-
mentioned was delivered by Mr. James Saunders,
practical plumber and glazier, amateur
chemist and natural philosopher.

Mr. Saunders commenced his lecture by
observing, that much ado was being made
just now about the Papal Aggression. This
remark might appear foreign to his subject,
but, in fact, led up to it; for the Pope of
Rome had occasioned a fermentation in this
country; and without fermentation there
could be no such thing as that which he was
about to have the pleasure of discussing—
a pint of beer. He should say no more on the
fermentation caused by the Pope, except that
he hoped it would be followed by the usual
results of that process as observed in brewing
—a sinking of the dregs; a going off of nightly
volatile gas; and strength communicated to
the good stuff in the barrel.

"For many of the observations I'm about
to make, Ladies and Gentlemen," continued
Mr. Saunders, "I shall have to apply to my
notes; for which I'm beholden to our worthy
Doctor, who is now amongst us; and I hope
he'll excuse me for any mistakes I may make
in pronouncing some of his words.

"In the first place, what is a pint of
beer? 'Twopence,' says some of you, 'and
a deal too much!' That's not the question.
There's a great many beers. There's porter,
there's heavy, or brown stout, and there's
strong beer, and ales of ever so many sorts,
and, then, there's swipes. Which is it to
be? Well; please to take beer as meaning
malt-liquor in general—a fermented drink
made out of malt and hops. In a chemical
sense, it don't much matter what tap it is.
Here I may be asked, perhaps, what chemistry
has to do with beer? Everything. Brewing's
a regular chemical operation. Of course, I
haven't time to go into the whole art and
mystery of brewing. I shan't attempt more
than to give you some sort of notion of the
science of that beautiful process. Well; now
then we'll begin by inquiring what beer is
made of?

"The answer most of you would make to this
question, I take it, would be, 'Malt, hops, and
water.' Some would add, perhaps, 'and a
little isinglass, for finings.' That's what it
ought to be made of, to be sure. But there's
more things in ale and beer, ladies and gentlemen,
than is dreamt of in your society—
However, let us take beer as brewed simply
of water, malt, and hops—what you may call
Utopian Entire; though, mind, 'tis in the
power of all of us to realise this salubrious
and agreeable beverage, if so be as we've got
the means, and will take the trouble
ourselves, for to brew the same.

"We'll say, then, that beer is made of malt,
hops, and water. Very good. But now comes
another query. What is water, and hops, and
malt made of?

"First, what is water made of? Ah!—
there was a time when heads, with big wigs
on 'em, would have been shook at me for
asking that question. I should have been
thought mad—perhaps worse. But we live
in better times, thanks be. You've been told
afore, most of you, no doubt, that water, when
quite neat, which you can't get except by
distilling of it, is made of oxygen and hydrogen,
which are two sorts of gas; that is, when
separated one from the other, as can be done
by galvanism and other ways and means, and
collected apart. Rain-water, fresh from the
clouds, contains a little fixed air besides; the
same air that comes out of soda-water and
ginger-beer: what they call carbonic acid;
namely, carbon, the same thing as charcoal,
turned into gas by being combined, as the
word is, with oxygen. What river-water
contains depends a good deal on what goes
into the river; the idea whereof may be left
to imagination, with the hope it won't disorder
the stomach. Same with well-water drawn
from nigh sewers and churchyards. Besides
these things, which have no business in water,
both river and well-water contain various
salts, more or less. There's carbonate of
lime in 'em, carbonate of magnesia, carbonate
of potash, now and then sulphate of iron, and
so on, according to the soil they run through,
or spring out of. Sulphate and carbonate of
lime (in other words, plaster of Paris and
chalk) cause water to be, what is called, hard;
which is bad and wasteful for making tea;