it less liable to take fire; and the present
method of cutting and shaping timber being
superseded, a saving of from two to three-
fourths of the material is brought about.
The action of the machine throws the cross-
grains into right angles; the knots are
compelled to follow the impulse of the bending;
the juices are forced out of the cells of the
wood, and the cavities are filled up by the
interlacing fibres. In the same way, you
may sometimes see in the iron of which the
barrels of muskets are made a kind of dark
grain which indicates that the particles of the
metal, either in the natural formation or in
welding, have been strongly clenched in one
another. These specimens are always greatly
valued for their extraordinary toughness, as
well as for a certain fantastical and mottled
beauty.

Another of the good results of this new
method is that the wood is seasoned by the same
process as that which effects the bending. The
seasoning of wood is simply the drying of the
juices, and the reduction of the mass to its
minimum size before it is employed, so that
there shall be no future warping. But, as we
have already shown, the compression resorted
to in the American system at once expels
the sap; and a few hours are sufficient to
convert green timber into thoroughly seasoned
wood. Here is an obvious saving of
time, and also of money; for the ordinary
mode of seasoning, by causing the wood to
lie waste for a considerable period, locks up
the capital of the trader, and of course
enhances the price to the purchaser. Time
also will be saved in another way, in searching
for pieces of wood of the proper curve for
carrying out certain designs. " How
delighted," says Mr. Jervis, the United States'
inspector of timber, "will the shipwright be
to get clear of the necessity of searching for
crooked pieces of timber! There need no
longer be any breaking of bats in the frame,
as we have been wont to break them. We
shall see numbers one, two, and three futtocks,
at least, all in one piece." An English
engineer (Mr. Charles Mayhew) remarks that
one of the advantages of the American
method is that, "in its application to all
circular, wreathed, or twisted work, it not
only preserves the continuous grain of the
wood, which is now usually and laboriously
done by narrow slips of veneer glued on
cores cut across the grain, with many
unsightly joints, ill concealed at best; but it
will materially reduce the cost of all curved
work, which now varies, according to the
quickness of the sweep, and will give the
artist greater freedom in his design, by
allowing him to introduce lines which are
now cautiously avoided in order to prevent
the cost of their execution." Dr. Hooker,
Mr. Fairbairn, Mr. Rennie, Mr. Galloway,
civil engineer, and other eminent scientific
men, confirm these judgments. A specimen
of bent oak now lies before us, and exhibits a
beautiful continuity in the sweep of the
fibres.

Timber-bending has reached a new stage
of development: and it is not too much to
anticipate that it will have considerable
influence on the industrial arts.

THE ANGEL OF LOVE.

ON noiseless wing, one starry night,
From her blest home above,
Down, dove-like, came that angel bright,
Whose care is human love.

A rose upon her bosom lay,
Fresh cull'd from Eden's bowers;
Unlike the rose, whose sweets decay
On this sad earth of ours.

Within its cup is found a balm
For love's severest pain;
Desponding hearts to raise and calm,
And give them hope again.

Where Jordan's tranquil waters shine
Beneath the sun's warm rays,
Two sisters fair, of Hebrew line,
Had pass'd their quiet days.

In mutual love and virtue blest,
They scarce had dream'd of woe,
Till hopeless passion marr'd their rest,
And forced their tears to flow.

Both loved, alas! a Christian knight:
Both shared an equal pain:
For Christian vow no Jew may plight,—
They knew they loved in vain!

Nor angry thought, nor envious strife
Stirred either gentle breast:
Each would have yielded love and life
To make the other blest.

The gracious Angel was not slow
Those maidens' griefs to feel,
Nor ever wept for human woe
She did not strive to heal.

The sisters watch'd in speechless dread
Her radiant form appear:
"Fear not; my name is Love," she said,
"And peace my mission here.

"No sigh, how faint, how sad soe'er,
Is heard in vain on high:
A balm of power divine I bear
To soothe and sanctify.

"To her who loves with deepest love,
This flower of life be given;
It has been rear'd by saints above,
And bath'd in dews of Heaven."

The Angel to the elder spake:
"What can'st thou, wilt thou do,
Or bear, for thy beloved one's sake,
To prove thy love is true?"

"Oh, doubt it not,'' the maiden cried;
"All joys would I resign,
So I were sometimes at his side,
And dared to call him mine!

"My father's land, my sister's home,
Mine ancient creed forego,
With him on distant shores to roam,
And share his weal and woe!