and it is usually fit for gathering at the end of two months. When it begins to flower, it is cut with a

The ratoons,

sickle a few inches above its roots. or subsequent growth from the same plant, ripen in six or eight weeks. Sometimes four crops are obtained in one year from the same roots; but in North America and other parts where the heat of the sun is less fervid, the cultivator obtains but two, or perhaps only one crop. The produce diminishes fast after the second cutting, and therefore it is said to be absolutely necessary to sow the seeds afresh every year, or every two years at farthest.

The coloring matter is obtained from the whole

plant. There are two modes used for its extraction —it is fermented, or it is scalded. The first method is universally practised in South America and the West Indies; and almost wholly by the English factors in the East.

If dried hastily in the sun it is apt to become brittle. When all moisture is expelled, and the substance is quite solid, it is cut into square cakes. The process is not yet, however, completed. If exported in this state it would speedily become mouldy; a second fermentation is therefore necessary. To produce this the cakes are heaped in a cask and simply suffered to remain there for about three weeks. During this time they undergo a degree of fermentation; they become heated, moisture exudes from the surface, a most disagreeable odor is emitted, and finally the cakes are covered with a fine white meal. They are then taken out and dried in the shade for five or six days, when they are in a fit state to be packed for exportation.

NO CEREMONY.

If you were to search society, you would find nine out of every ten profess their utter dislike of all ceremony. Take them at their own word, they are the most downright, unaffected people in the world; but see them in the practice of life, and they turn out to be as full of airs, and as much offended at any little omission of the punctilious homage due to themselves as may be. It seems as if we were under a constant wish to get back to nature and simplicity, but as constantly checked in every effort to that effect, by the powerful bonds which a state

of society has imposed. We would all fain be the easy, pleasant, happy children which we think we once were, instead of the cold, artificial, heartless beings which we think we now are. But, in feeling thus, we forget that when we were children sporting with each other, we were perpetually giving and receiving offence, from rudeness of behavior among ourselves—in other words, from the want of a conventional system of respectful manners -and that thus we were often the most unhappy wretches in the world, frequently snarling at each other, sometimes getting sound thrashings from our offended companions, and sometimes giving them, perhaps for very little fault; and, in general, only prevented from being rude and riotous, nay, sometimes, from being rank spoliators and oppressors, by the fear of punishment from a stronger hand.

If the world were only gratified in its general desire of abjuring ceremony for one day, by way of experiment, it would soon, I apprehend, find the necessity of returning to a decent degree of affectation. Suppose a respectable gentleman going abroad that morning, full of the idea of doing all kinds of things in an easy way, as he used to do when a boy. He sees an old school-fellow a little way before him on the street, and, thinking it a good joke, runs up and knocks the hat off his head, making it spin far into the highway, and then turns about and laughs in the face of the injured party. The jokee, however, has a different idea of the matter from the joker; and whereas in school-boy days it would have been settled by a slight pommeling, rendering them rather sulky with each other for a day or two, nothing less will serve in these rational days of adolescence, than a regular interchange of shots at each other, at the distance of twelve or nine paces, as the case may be.

Suppose two ladies, intimate friends, meeting on the street. One admires the other's bonnet immensely, and, as might have happened long ago in the case of a pretty cap for a doll, she endeavors to snatch it from her friend's head. The other, however, defends her property at the point of the parasol, and the end of the joke is, that the two are taken to the police office. Suppose a dinner party meeting in the afternoon of this unceremonious day, if the day has lasted so long without a return to good breeding. Instead of each gentleman conducting a lady to the dining-room, which is a horrid piece of affectation, the whole male sex goes trooping off, in an easy candid way, leaving the women to come trolloping after. Of course, the respect of the men for the women is not increased by seeing them come in at the door pell-mell like a drove of sheep; and, therefore, there is the less disposition to accommodate them with seats, or to serve them with food. The fair part of the company soon become quite indignant at the men, and attack them with all the virulence of the ancient harpies. A scene ensues which there is no describing. The greatest confusion prevails. There is a squabbling of tongues enough to deafen Babel or Billingsgate. The air is darkened with flying plates and candlesticks. At last, within ten minutes after the ringing of the dinner bell, the ladies are seen pouring out of the house like enraged bedlamites, some with their bonnets and shawls, and more without them, and the want of a little ceremony is found to have

-broke up this mirth, marred this good meeting,

With most admired disorder."

In every department and contingency of life, the

same results are experienced, so that before night the human race at large seems as if it were about to revert to the savage state.

ARCHITECTURE OF BIRDS.

One of the prettiest of the woven bird's nests is figured and described by Vaillant in his splendid work on African birds; though he is doubtful what species of bird was the mechanic. The following is his account of this beautiful nest.