set to boiling as soon as practicable, and continue it for about an hour and a half; then pour it through the strainer, and set it to cool. When cool, ferment according to the directions accompanying the brewing machine. The quantity of water used may be varied at the discretion of the person brewing. By diminishing the water, he may increase the strength of the liquor, or by increasing it, diminish the strength. Thus with the hops he may vary the quantity to suit his palate in the degree of bitter flavour that may be most agreeable.--For fomenting, a cask with one head taken out, will answer the same purpose as the machine boiler. [10] NOTE.--A person who experienced its benefit and almost certainty, informs us, that he always practised looking steadily into the vapours of the brewing kettle, after the liquor (water) had been in a boiling state for some time. The moment he could distinguish the features of his face, in the surface of the water, he directed the cock to be turned; and the liquor, of course, thrown over the mash. This was an unerring substitute for a thermometer, or sachorometer. His kettle, which had been a still, held about sixty gallons. THE SNOW STORM. From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, for April. "'Tis only from the belief of the goodness and wisdom of a Supreme Being, that our calamities can be borne in that manner which becomes a man."--HENRY MACKENZIE. In summer there is a beauty in the wildest moors of Scotland, and the wayfaring man who sits down for an hour's rest beside some little spring that flows unheard through the brightened moss and water-cresses, feels his weary heart revived by the silent, serene, and solitary prospect. On every side sweet sunny spots of verdure smile towards him from among the melancholy heather--unexpectedly in the solitude a stray sheep, it may be with its lambs, starts half alarmed at his motionless figure--insects large, bright, and beautiful come careering by him through the desert air--nor does the Wild want its own songsters, the grey linnet, fond of the blooming furze, and now and then the lark mounting up to heaven above the summits of the green pastoral hills.--During such a sunshiny hour, the lonely cottage on the waste seems to stand a paradise; and as he rises to pursue his journey, the traveller looks back and blesses it with a mingled emotion of delight and envy. There, thinks he, abide the children of innocence and contentment, the two most benign spirits that watch over human life.