Premiums.—At a meeting of the Merino Society in London, 12th May, after awarding the prizes to the best show of sheep and superfine broadcloth, the premium of ten guineas for worsted yarn, was adjudged to Mr. J. Head, of Kirkstall, near Leeds, for one pound of wool spun by a newly invented machine, which was superior in fineness to any heretofore seen, and peculiarly adapted for the finest bombazeens, &c. It produced 95 hanks of 530 yards each in length, equal to 30 miles and 400 yards, to a pound of wool.
Salt mines of Meurthe.—The researches for the discovery of rock salt, which commenced in July last, at Moyenire, in the department of La Meurthe, in France, are carried on to advantage. After exploring to the depth of 200 feet, and reaching the first layer, which is 11 feet in thickness, the workmen had to perforate a bed of gypsum and clay of five hundred and forty-six feet, when they came to a second stratum of salt, eight feet in thickness. It is intended to remove the researches to two other neighbouring points, to ascertain the breadth and magnitude of the whole bed. The two points form a triangle nearly equilateral, each side of which may be about 6 or 700 toises in length. One of these points is the city of Vic, and the other to the south of it. On this latter point they have already pierced to the depth of 26 feet of vegetable earth: the orifice of each bore is 31⁄2 inches, which constantly fills up with fresh water. The salt of the first bed is extremely white, and transparent as rock crystal. It is likewise very pure, and free from every noxious or terrene substance. The second appears to be intermixed with gypseous or argillaceous substance, but a very small proportion. This salt is brown, not unlike a clouded flint; both the kinds are very compact, well crystallized, the fractures cubical, and the saline taste superior to that of any salt obtained by evaporation. It contains but very little of muriate of magnesia, or of sulphate of lime.
More silver!—We have the following account of the discovery of a silver mine, in a paper printed at Salem, Indiana, July 10.—"We have been informed by gentlemen of credibility, that there has been a silver mine lately discovered in the late purchase in this state. The circumstances relating to it are these: A few months ago, a gentleman near the boundary line, was informed by an Indian, that there was a mine of this kind somewhere, but refused to tell him where it was, unless the man would pay him fifty dollars, a horse, a gun and several blankets, which the man did, and was taken to the place, and brought away several pounds of the ore. He has since, we are told, brought away about 300 pounds. He refuses to tell where it is, but says there is at least three wagon loads already cast into bars by the Indians, which he intends to bring away. We have seen (so have several citizens of Salem) some of the ore, and should suppose it at least two-thirds silver. The ore is so pure that it can be drawn out with the hammer into bars of almost any size, and it is thought by some to be sufficiently pure in its natural state. From the representation of it, the mine is inexhaustible, and in a situation difficult to be discovered."
DIED,
In England, on the 19th June, at his house, Spring-grove, near Hounslow, the venerable president of the Royal Society, the Right Hon. Sir Joseph Banks, G. C. B. &c. &c. &c. The loss to science by the demise of this excellent man and liberal patron will be long and severely felt. Sir Joseph had been for a long time labouring under a most distressing illness; for some years he had been deprived of the use of his lower extremities, and rendered so feeble as to be lifted from his room to his carriage. He possessed a princely fortune, of which he assigned a large portion to the encouragement of science, particularly natural history, private and public charities, and domestic hospitality.—Also, on the 31st May, I. Bradley, the Yorkshire giant:—when dead he measured nine feet in length, and three feet over the shoulders.
FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
Of John Logan, the author of the following touching stanzas, it is well observed by his biographer Chalmers, that it would be difficult to produce, from the whole range of English poetry, any thing more exquisitely tender and pathetic, than some of his productions.—He died in London, December, 1788, in the fortieth year of his age. His end is described as edifying. When he became too weak to hold a book, we are told he employed his time in hearing such young persons as visited him read the Scriptures.