The palace keeps out the light, and the sanctuary keeps out the light. If rich men build their houses on broad avenues instead of the narrow lanes, which were streets in the former ages, they are not any more ready to let in the light from these open spaces; the drawing-rooms on the boulevard are just as dark as the chambers in the alleys of Rome or Cairo. In quantity and quality of brightness, there is nothing to choose between a house on Fifth Avenue and the interior of a house in the Jew quarter of Frankfort during most hours of the day, and most days of tie year. You see as little light upon the gay and flowered carpet as upon the smirched and dingy floor. If the windows are wide and numerous, they are effectually hindered from their proper service by double or triple folds of drapery hung behind them, curtains of red and brown, thick shades, or opaque shutters. But the chances are that some false model of the architect has lessened the num ber of the windows themselves. How many of our newest houses seem to copy those medieval castles of German and Italian cities, and show rare slits or loop holes in place of the many windows of the last age of Puritan building. In church building this tendency to shut out light is carried to even worse excess. The narrow lines of aperture in the walls between the useless buttresses are plated with ground glass, or with that cheap imitation of the ancient painted glass which exhibits the faces of Apostles and the scenes of the Gospel story in tawdry ugliness, varying this libel upon art by signs which mean nothing to the worshipers. Instead of the cheerful light upon the faces and forms of living men, we have the painful postures of leaning and agonizing saints, which transmit the hues, but not the shades and softness of the rainbow. Another method of shutting out the light from house and church, more respectable, but not less.sure and injurious, is in excessive tree planting. Trees are good, but we may have too much of a good thing. Trees are good, but sunlight is better, and if we cannot have them both, we had best keep the light and dispense with the trees. Trees are good in their place, but their place is not in front of windows, or anywhere that they can stop the sun from entering the house. There is san itary virtue in the resinous breath of a pine forest, yet it is su icidal folly which will environ a house with thick evergreens, whether in city or country, destroying so the landscape of the rooms and doubling the desolation of winter. Such delicate and swaying shade as the branches of an elm can throw to break the blaze of the summer sun is well enough, but the somber shade which is solid and unyielding, fixed for all sea sons, and stubborn against the sun, is only evil before our windows. For eight months, at least, of the year, the sunlight should have no barrier of any kind to hinder its entrance to the house; and for the remaining months, it should have easy evasion of the light foliage. Trees are not ornamental when they hide the house, and they are not healthful when they darken it. This exclusion of sunlight from house and church has, nevertheless, its confident pleas of defense. There are weak eyes which cannot bear the light, and they must be protected. There are precious carpets, and their colors must not be faded. There are draperies which the sun's rays will spoil, and fine furniture which will be ruined, if too much brightness be thrown upon it. In summer, heat goes with light, and only darkness will keep in the air a tolerable tone. Only a few can afford the luxury of a new upholstery for every year, and it is mortifying to see that tapestries just hung in their place are already antiquated. Light may be pleasant, but if it brings opthalmia, it nullifies its own work. The argumenl which would shut it out seems very practicable and unanswerable. Until some saving process for furniture and for sight shall be invented, we mast be content*o live in the shade. The doctors are unanimous in urging the sanitary virtues of sunlight. On this point all the schools agree—homeopathic, Allopathic, Hydropathic—and all consent that the sun has a first rank as a " healing medium." No pills, no powders, no lotions, no fluids are so potent in their influences, so infallible in their " exhibition " as this imponderable ray, which is never spent. Galen, Hahnemann, and Priessnitz alike, assume that light is essential to the effect of their remedies. The medical theory that a sick chamber must be gloomy and dark has ceased to have favor in any method of practice. A first requisite in choosing a site for a hospital is that it shall be sunny. This is quite as important as that it shall be dry; and, indeed, if it is not sunny, it can not be dry. The perfect hospital will be that which shall have the sun on all sides all the day, if the light can be so twisted by any Irish genius— which shall let it fall on all the beds in all the wards. In our recent war, the unlucky patients who found themselves billeted on the shady side of the hospital wards, had the trial of knowing that their confinement would probably be doubled; a severe wound on the sunny side would heal more quickly than a slight wound on the shady side. Even with the best i ventilation, the malaria would cling in the blood which had only a northern light to drive it out. One could note the contrast, in passing between the beds of the patients who were sitting or lying in the sun, with those who were condemned to the shade. This large experience of the hospitals in the war converted many who were skeptics about light as a healing agent, and who went into the service with the lingering prejudice that the sick should be kept dark as well as kept quiet. Actinic influence is now not a fancy lo be laughed at, but a fact to be considered and used. Hereafter, curtains on sick beds will be not only superfluous but a positive nuisance, to be put aside with all speed. The exact reason, and the exact way of this sanitary influence of sunlight are not yet fully understood, but the fact is acknowledged. It is an influence which works in all kinds of disease. Inflammatory diseases, nervous diseases, digestive troubles, are all cured by a full supply of the sun's rays. These rays assist other remedies, and are the substitute for many remedies. They work in the Allopathic way upon j aun-dice and bilious maladies, bringing light out of the darkness; and they work in the Homeopathic way upon pale, lymphatic disorders, changing the unhealthy pallor to the whiteness of health. The direct action of the sun upon the skin is, indeed, dreaded by many, and it is not probable that any protest of a journal of health will lessen the sale of French kid gloves, or drive veils out of use. A white hand and a fair cheek will still be preferred to the bronze and tan of a sun-browned skin. Some protection against the burning of the sun may be allowed. The best sanitary influence of the sunlight is not that of the hot ray directly upon the skin, but rather of the light in the air that is around the body, the light that envelops, rather than the light that impinges upon the frame. The sunny atmosphere, more than the battery of rays, forces the frame into vigor. Reflected sunlight, if we can have plenty of it, is even belter than the direct sunlight. The diffused stream, more than the exuberant fountain, dispenses the blessing. It is enough if we are only in the light, and it is not necessary to be always " under the sun." By an arrangement of pivoted mirrors, such as the damsels of Amsterdam use to bring images of the street into their chambers, one may get the disk of the sun itself into the room; "but there is no need of that, if the reflected light is allowed to enter freely. This light does not lose its virtue, though it may have been beaten back from wall or tower, and may have taken many paths on its capricious race from its orb in the sky. We may get all the good of the sunlight without being either burned or dazzled, without feeling too sharply the hot hand of the sun upon our head. The health-giving influence of light is undoubtedly largely upon the mind. It makes us cheerful, hopeful, and buoyant Whether that cheerfulness comes from the quicker flow of the blood or any change in its globules, or whether it makes the blood flow more swiftly and so gives more strength is of no importance. This we know, that low spirits are not nourished by the sunlight. Happiness in the light is the congenial state, and melancholy is driven back. We may condense into a few practical rules the substance of these rambling remarks. First, in building, or buying, or hiring a house, choose always a site where there is abundance of light. Avoid dark lanes, neighborhoods where there are high walls, or thick groves, or any obstruction which shuts out the sun. A cottage with three rooms and light in them, is better than a palace with thirty halls and chambers, where ! the light must be made by artificial aids. Then, secondly, live in those rooms of the house in which the light has freest entrance, sit in them, eat In them, sleep in them. If any are to be shut up and kept for state occa sions, or for the reception of rare visitors, let them be the darkest rooms of the house, the north and east rooms, rather than the south and west. Let the sunny rooms be those which are the most constantly used. In the third place, have such finish of the house in walls, ceiling, furniture, drapery, decorations, as shall assist and multiply, not absorb and destroy the light. As far as possible, let the brightness that comes into the house be met and repeated by the brightness that stays in the house. Have colors in the furniture that will be brought out and not ruined by the light falling upon them. In the fourth place, give the light plenty of room to come in at the windows. When a bay window is built, with its treble surface of glass, do not neutralize its excellent gift by a treble fold of damask, and so destroy its beauty and its use. It is bad when two bay windows on the same side of the house, hinder each other's freedom, like the Siamese twins with their fatal ligament. But it is worse when within the house the heavy folds of cushion make the projecting window a useless excrescence, " a wart and a wen," on the side of the house, as Emerson says of the man who has no place in his soul for the sense of God with him. And perhaps we ought to add a fifth rule, to get as much sunlight as we can in the day by early rising. That constant phenomenon which kindles the rapture of so many makers of verses, but is rarely witnessed in the cities, the rising of the sun, should not be altogether taken for granted. The morning light is good light for health as well as for song. Gas-' light destroys more eyes than sunlight, and the wear and tear of evening riot ruin more furniture than any bleaching of the sun through the windows. It is safe to say that at no season of the year should the quantity of artificial light which we use be greater than the quantity of natural light. In the dead of winter the sun ought still to be the first of the torch-bearers. When we have artificial light we ought to have enough of it; and the discovery of kerosene has been a boon to the race, in giving a new lightness to the night. But no amount of artificial light, whether of candles, or oils, or oil from the rock, or magnesium, or oxygen, or the electric current, can match or reach the bounty of that great ever-flowing reservoir in the heaven. What amazing folly, for men who have such large estate in lands and houses and stocks, to shut themselves all day in dark corners, and scheme and figure by gaslight how they may add to their stores! Wiser is the farmer, who sows and reaps under the open sky, than he whose wealth is gained by a light which warmsonlyto lameness and premature old age. The gospel of light needs especially to be preached to those whose work is among warehouses and in the haunts of traffic.—Herald of Health. Moss-Agate Hunting in the West. A correspondent of the Cincinnati Commercial writes from Sherman, Black Hills, Wyoming Territory: " Pretty nearly every visiter to these hills and the plains is an anxious and excited seeker after 'moss-agates'—a name applied to a species of silicious formation that has been wonderfully and beautifully figured and flowered through the united agencies of iron solutions penetrating it, and then, becoming exposed to the action of the air, going through a sun and wind-drying process after the waters of some river bed or lake had evaporated. Some of these moss-agates are very tastefully inlaid with exact imitations of pine trees, vines, cedar forests, hedges, trains of cars, stars, figures, and almost every imaginable drawing. The agates found along the line of the Union Pacific Railroad are of four different colors, partaking of the names of the places where found, as follows: The Cheyenne brown agate, Granger Water agate, Church Buttes light blue agate, and the Sweetwater cream agate. The two latter are the most valuable, and most delicately formed. " The most extensive agate beds are found in the vicinity of Church Buttes and Granger, distant about eight hundred and eighty miles west of Omaha. These beds are about fifty yards wide and nearly one hundred yards long, being isolated from each other at a distance of from one to two miles. As you approach them you observe a large patch of smooth, black, round cobble stones, and between these lie, almost concealed, the different sized and shaped moss-agates, and, occasionally sparkling among them, a bright topaz, and brown and yellow streaked carnelian. The intrinsic value of the agate consists in its display of moss, the vine and cedar forest being the most prized for jewelry sets. In one hour s time I have gathered a half gallon, some of which are extremely pretty, and I know of no pleasure, either in hunting buffalo or catching trout, half so exciting and so full of glory as the finding of a choice agn.te. I have seen staid old men search in silence for a few minutes for a ' real shiner,' and when they came upon it pick it up suddenly, take off their hats, swing them in the air, jump up and shout aloud, like schoolboys that had just been let out for a two-weeks' vaca- tion. The very novelty of finding precious stones among black rocks, far out on the plains, many miles from home or habitation, is a delight so pleasing and intoxicating that it takes a mighty nerve to resist the pressure of one's making a most stupendous fool of himself. Good agates are worth, as jewels, from three to five dollars apiece. As novelties they are invaluable." Mineral Caoutchoue. Recent communications from Adelaifle, South Australia, says the Chemical News, have made known the discovery in the southern portion of the colony of a remarkable carboniferous substance, which hitherto has only been found in small quantity in the coal strata of Derbyshire (England). It is a mineral caoutchouc, so called from its general appearance and elasticity. In Australia it is found on the surface of the sandy soil, through which it would appear to exude from beneath, as, burnt off occasionally by the bush fires, it is again found after the winter season, occurring in quantity and of varying thickness. Analysis proves it to yield 82 per cent or more of a pure hydrocarbon oil; its value for the manufac-i ture of gas there will be great, and it is also believed to be applicable to the making of certain dyes. The discovery is also important from its indication of the existence of oils or other carboniferous deposits. This material, known in mineralogy as elaterite, is also found in a coal pit at Montrelais, j near Nantes, France, at Neufchatel, and on the Island of i Zante. According to the analysis of the late Professor Johns-? ton, of Durham University, it is a hydrocarbon, containing from 83'7 to 85'5 per cent, of carbon, and from 125 to 13'28 per cent, of hydrogen. The variety found in Derbyshire (near Castleton) has a specific gravity varying between 09053 to 1'233; the substance is highly inflammable, its color blackish- brown, its luster resinous. Antiquity of the Wheelbarrow. M. Le Due corrects an error that has prevailed in France with L regard to the invention of this useful little vehicle. It has been t attributed to M. Dupin, who it has been claimed devised it in f 1669. M. LeDuc says he has found mention of them in the . thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth century MSS., and gives . an illustration taken from a vignette of a manuscript of the . thirteenth century, of a man propelling a wheelbarrow, the r form of which differs but slightly from those now in use. 100 A Gothie Cottage Villa. In this illustration, extracted from Shan's Architectural Be-view, published by Claxton, Remsen &Haffelfinger, 819 and 821 Market street, Philadelphia, we present a design for a rural residence of a size warranting the designation of cottage villa, which, it will be observed, is in the Gothic style. The intention here is, not to present a conception exhibiting all the elaborate and costly display of the domestic Tudor Style, for instance, but one, which, suited to any projector of moderate means, would be characterized by convenience, propriety, and the utmost simplicity of decoration compatible with architectural effect, combined with the most essential of all requisites, economy of construction. Its general character, and various accommodations will, it is hoped, be easily comprehended by a comparison of the ground plan with the following detailed description of the parts, through the reference letters thereon. Before proceeding, we may first, however, briefly notice the external decorative peculiarities of the Gothic style in its relation to domestic architecture, as contrasted with its corresponding characteristics in ecclesiastical. In the first instance, we may name one of the most striking, namely, that domestic Gothic rarely uses pointed windows, but most generally square-headed ones; with a hood molding, conforming with the head, and terminating in elbows. This peculiarity will be observable in the example before our readers. Another difference is in the doors, the domestic never using the common high-pointed doors with pyramidal labels. Next to the windows and the doors, the most marked characteristic of this style is the gable, of which there are the simple gable of two lines, following the slope of the roof, and the stepped gable. The apex of the gable is also frequently crowned by the introduction of a slight octagonal shaft, with pinnacle, enriched with ornamental moldings. The high roof is one more peculiarity which we may name; and, although this scarcely admitted much ornament, it was not, however, neglected. Relief from sameness was obtained by the employment of shingles, tiles, or, as in this case, slate of different shapes, producing a pleasing alternation of lines. We have hurriedly noticed the most striking differences, which exist in the Gothic style, according to its application. This subject, nevertheless, deserves a more extended consideration. This villa is intended to be constructed of brick, of an ordinary quality, laid to a smooth even surface, with flat joints; will be two stories high, with an attic story within the roof; and painted French gray, or some neutral tint. We will now proceed to explain the references on the ground plan. In the first story : A is the vestibule, with rounded corners and tile floor, having glass doors, opening into the hall, B. These doors are made in pairs, and equal in width to the front doors. The hall, B, entered through these vestibule doors, is six feet wide by eighteen feet six inches long, with a return, toward the front, of eight feet wide. This latter portion contains the main stairway, C, is semi-circular on the front, and is continued up above the roof, forming a circular tower, a most effective and striking feature in the design. Passing through the hall, we enter the parlor, 1), an apartment nineteen feet long by fourteen wide, with two bay windows. The one on the side is octagonal, containing three divisions, and that in front is square. This latter projects two feet six inches, with a double, or, as it is usually termed, a twin window; and is carried up two stories in bight, as will be seen at. a glance on the elevation. In the rear of the parlor, but not communicating with it, and also entered from the hall, is the dining-room, E, twenty feet long by fifteen feet wide, a well-lighted and convenient sized apartment, communicating at the rear, through a pantry, H, four feet six inches square, and a kitchen pantry, I, of the same dimensions, with the kitchen, F, fifteen feet by sixteen feet, which is provided with a range and sink. There is another mode of communicating between the dining-room and kitchen, namely, through the private passage, G, which opens out into the main hall, B, and contains the private stairway. The porch, on the front, and along the side of the entrance, is accessible from the hall through the end window, which extends to the floor for that purpose. The main entrance door has a slight projecting porch, finished with an ornamental balcony above. The second story may be arranged to suit the taste of builders, and some alteration would be admissible in the ground plan to suit individual requirements. Those who are capable of modifying plans ought to be able to originate them, and therefore the elevation of a design is the most important thing for practical builders in rural districts, where services of expert architects are hard to obtain. History of the Argand Lamp, No improvement had yet been devised in lamp or candle, when, in 1784, a Swiss philosopher, Argand, invented the circular wick, inclosed in a cylinder of glass. He was a man of uncommon ingenuity, who had already made various useful inventions in other branches of industry, and devoted himself to the study of this great question, how more light could be obtained. He needed lamps in great numbers for his manu- factories, and as he had learnt by experience that the wick could not be made thicker without diminishing the light, it occurred to him to extend it in a circle. This increased the size, and at the same time gave him a central space within the ring, through which a current of air was brought to play upon the wick, which prevented the forming of soot and increased the illuminating power. The discovery, which was thus in part accidental, as he had not originally counted upon the advantages derived from the strong draft within created by the heat of the flame, was, nevertheless, at once fully appreciated by the intelligent inventor. He immediately determined to seek a market,, and as the English were then enjoying the reputation of being willing to reward liberally every invention that could aid them in developing and perfecting their manufactures, he determined to offer it for sale in London. On the way he came near losing the whole fruit of his labors. Like King Joash of old, Argand could not resist the temptation1 of exhibiting his treasures to the Assyrians, who were in this case represented by the savans of Paris, and one of them at once caught at the principle. While Argand went to England, and there, during the rigid examination to which his invention was subjected, was led to add the chimney, the same discovery was made in France by his rival, l'Ange. Both men had been led almost necessarily to the conviction, that an outer current of air must needs be at least as the flame as an inner current, and as they needed for this purpose a cylinder that should be transparent and yet capable of resisting great heat, both fell upon the same contrivance, the glass chimney of our day. Thus it came about, that while Argand is undoubtedly the sole inventor of the circular form of the wick and the inner current of air, he must share the not less important invention of the glass tube, with the Frenchman, l'Ange. The latter had, in the meantime, presented himself, lamp in hand, before the French Academy, and as the report on his invention was made a few days before his Swiss rival obtained a patent in England, the French people are apt to claim the whole proudly as their own invention. The matter was still further complicated by the strange retribution which befell the favorite of the Academy. He lost, in the annals of science and in the memory of the public, the fame of his discovery. First, it so happened that he thought it best-, after the manner of the day, to engage the interest of the leading journal of Paris in his behalf; as he did not know the editor, he prevailed Upon a certain Mr, Quinquet to introduce him to the former. The editor, from carelessness or ignorance, stated in the article which he wrote on the subject, and which created a great sensation, that this marvelous lamp with its brilliant light had been presented to him by Messrs. Quinquet and l'Ange. The public, always equally careless and ignorant, did not take the trouble to retain both names, and to this day the lamp 13 in France simply called a quinquet, after a man who had nothing whatever to do with the invention. Sic ruunt fata. Poor M. l'Ange was equally unfortunate, as we learn from Friedrich Mohr's interesting monograph on that subject, when the Government at last decided to bestow upon him the well-earned reward. Argand had been signally unsuccessful in England, where his patent was attacked on all sides, and rendered utterly unprofitable to him. He returned almost broken-hearted to France, and endeavored to obtain there a like patent. It was granted, in the shape of an exclusive monopoly for fifteen years; but this apparent injustice roused the indignation of his competitor and the judges of the Academy, who jointly remonstrated with the Government. To cut the Gordian knot, both inventors were joined in the patent, and it was ordered that every lamp of the kind should bear a stamp with the words : Argand et l'Ange invenerunt. L'Ange was speedily forgotten, and in Europe and this country Argand alone is known and honored as the inventor. After all, however, he also had, like most inventors, to be content with the fame; for, very shortly after the patent had been granted, the French revolution broke out and swept away this monopoly with so many others.—Putnam's Magazine. Researches on Resins, M. Sacc observes that resins have been very little studied at all; and his researches recorded in this paper extend to copal, amber, dammar, colophony, lac (or shellac), elemi, sandarac, mastic, and carnauba wax (a resin). The author has studied the more or less degree of readiness wherewith resins are reduced to powder, the action thereupon of boiling water, of alcohol of 86 per cent strength, of ether, of ordinary acetic acid, of a hot solution of caustic soda of l'O74 specific gravity, of sulphide of carbon, of oil of turpentine, of boiled linseed oil, of benzine, of naphtha, of sulphuric acid of i'83 specific gravity, of nitric acid of 1-329 specific gravity, and of caustic ammonia. All resins were applied in powdered state; and the solvents three times as large a bulk as that of the resins have acted for at least twenty-four hours, at temperatures varying between 15 and 22. The results arrived at are briefly as follows: All resins submitted to experiments fuse quietly when heated, excepting amber, shellac, elemi, sandarac, and mastic, which swell up, and increase in bulk. Only the carnauba wax melts in boiling water; colophony becomes pasty therein, while dammar, shellac, elemi, and mastic agglutinate. Copal, amber, and sandarac do not change. Alcohol does not dissolve amber nor dammar; agglutinates copal, partly dissolves elemi and carnauba wax; while colophony, shellac, sandarac, and mastic are readily soluble therein. Ether 'does not dissolve amber and shellac; makes copals swell, and partly but slowly dissolves carnauba wax; dammar, colophony, elemi, sandarac, and mastic are readily dissolved therein. Acetic acid does not dissolve amber and shellac; causes copal to swell; somewhat acts upon carnauba wax, and does not at all act upon any other of the resins above-named. Caustic soda solution readily dissolves shellac, with difficulty colophony, and has no action upon the rest. In sulphide of carbon, amber and shellac are insoluble; copal swells therein; elemi, sandarac, mastic, and carnauba wax are with difficulty dissolved therein, while dammar and colophony are readily so. Oil of turpentine has no action upon amber or shellac; causes copal to swell; dissolves readily dammar, colophony, elemi, sandarac, carnauba, and very readily mastic. Sulphuric acid does not dissolve carnauba wax; all other resins are dissolved and colored brown, excepting dammar, whifih becomes bright red. Nitric acid does not act upon the resins, but colors carnauba wax straw-yellow, elemi a dirty-yellow, and mastic and sandarac bright brown. Ammonia does not dissolve some of these resins, but causes copal, sandarac, and mastic first to swell, afterward dissolving them; colophony is easily soluble therein.