Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 422

'Athulf. But, sirs, it is in haste—in haste extreme—
Matters of state, and hot with haste.

Second Monk.                My lord,
We will so say, but truly at this present
He is about to scourge himself.

Athulf.                          I'll wait.
For a king's ransom would I not cut short
So good a work! I pray you, for how long?

Second Monk. For twice the De Profundis, sung in slow time.

Athulf. Please him to make it ten times, I will wait.
And could I be of use, this knotted trifle,
This dog-whip here has oft been worse employed.'

In his recent play, The Virgin Widow (1850), Mr Taylor declines from the promise of his earlier efforts. The preface suggests great things; but they are not forthcoming. There is much careful finish, much sententious rhetoric, much elegant description; but there is little of racy humour (the play is a 'romantic comedy'), little of poetical freshness, little of lively flesh and blood portraiture, and more of melodramatic expedience than dramatic construction. Neither comedy nor melodrama is our author's forte.

In 1836 Mr Taylor published The Statesman, a book which contained the 'views and maxims respecting the transaction of public business,' which had been suggested to its author by twelve years' experience of official life. He has since then allowed that it was wanting in that general interest which might possibly have been felt in the results of a more extensive and varied conversancy with public life.[9 - Preface to Notes from Life.] In 1848 he produced Notes from Life, professedly a kind of supplemental volume to the former, embodying the conclusions of an attentive observation of life at large. The first essay investigates in detail the right measure and manner to be adopted in getting, saving, spending, giving, taking, lending, borrowing, and bequeathing 'money;' and a weighty, valuable essay it is, with no lack of golden grains and eke of diamond-dust in its composition. The thoughts are not given in the bullion lump, but are well refined, and having passed through the engraver's hands, they shine with the true polish, ring with the true sound. In terse, pregnant, and somewhat oracular diction, we are here instructed how to avoid the evils contingent upon bold commercial enterprise—how to guard against excesses of the accumulative instinct—how to exercise a thoroughly conscientious mode of regulating expenditure, eschewing prodigality, that vice of a weak nature, as avarice is of a strong one—how to be generous in giving; 'for the essence of generosity is in self-sacrifice, waste, on the contrary, comes always by self-indulgence'—how to withstand solicitations for loans, when the loans are to accommodate weak men in sacrificing the future to the present. The essay on Humility and Independence is equally good, and pleasantly demonstrates the proposition, that Humility is the true mother of Independence; and that Pride, which is so often supposed to stand to her in that relation, is in reality the step-mother by whom is wrought the very destruction and ruin of Independence. False humilities are ordered into court, and summarily convicted by this single-eyed judge, whose cross-examination of these 'sham respectabilities' elicits many a suggestive practical truth. There is more of philosophy and prudence than of romance in the excursus on Choice in Marriage; but the philosophy is shrewd and instructive, uttering many a homely hint of value in its way: as where we are reminded that if marrying for money is to be justified only in the case of those unhappy persons who are fit for nothing better, it does not follow that marrying without money is to be justified in others; and again, that the negotiations and transactions connected with marriage-settlements are eminently useful, as searching character and testing affection, before an irrevocable step be taken; and again, that when two very young persons are joined together in matrimony, it is as if one sweet-pea should be put as a prop to another. The essay on Wisdom is elevated and thoughtful, like most of the essayist's papers, but somewhat too heavy for miscellaneous readers. With his wonted clearness he distinguishes Wisdom from understanding, talents, capacity, ability, sagacity, sense, &c. and defines it as that exercise of the reason into which the heart enters—a structure of the understanding rising out of the moral and spiritual nature. Then follows a section on Children, which explodes not a few educational fallacies, and propounds certain articles of faith and practice wholesome for these times, though it will probably wear a prim and quakerish aspect to the admirers of Jean Paul's famous tractate[10 - Levana, of which an able translation was published by Messrs Longman in 1848.] on the same theme. The concluding paper in this series, entitled The Life Poetic, is the liveliest, if not the most valuable of the six: it has, however, been charged, with considerable show of justice, with a tendency to strip genius of all that is individual and spontaneous, or to accredit it only 'when it moves abroad sedately, clad in the uniform of a peculiar college.' Mr Taylor's 'solicitous and premeditated formalism' of poetical doctrine is, it must be confessed, a little too strait-laced. The true poet is born, not made. Still, in their place, our author's dogmas have their use, and might, if duly marked and inwardly digested, annually deter many aspirants who are not poets from proving so incontestably to the careless public that negative fact.

Notes from Books followed within a few months, but met with a less cordial reception. Of the four essays comprised in this volume, three are reprinted contributions to the Quarterly Review, being criticisms on the poetry of Wordsworth and Aubrey de Vere; and worthily do they illustrate—those on Wordsworth at least—Mr Taylor's composite faculty of depth and delicacy in poetical exposition. Of Wordsworth's many and gifted commentators—among them Wilson, Coleridge, Hazlitt, De Quincey, Lamb, Moir, Sterling—few have shewn a happier insight into the idiosyncrasy, or done more justice to the beauties of the patriarch of the Lakes. With Wordsworth for a subject, and the Quarterly Review for a 'door of utterance,' Mr Taylor is quite in his element. The fourth essay, on the Ways of the Rich and Great, is enriched with wise saws and modern instances. Its matériel is composed of ripe observation and reflective good sense; but the manner is objected to as marred by conceits of style—a sin not very safely to be committed by so stern a censor of it in others. His authoritative air in laying down the law is also occasionally unpleasing to some readers; and great as his tact in essay-writing is, he wants that easy grace and pervading bonhomie which imparts such a charm to the works of one with whom he has been erroneously identified—the anonymous author of Friends in Council. But, after all, he is one of those writers to whom our current literature is really indebted, and whose sage, sententious, and well-hammered thoughts may be profitably, as well as safely, commended to every thinking soul among us.

RAILWAY JUBILEE IN AMERICA

The opening in September last of the grand railway which unites Massachusetts with British North America is one of the most noticeable events of our times. Before this, the commercial path of transit from Europe lay from the Atlantic up the St Lawrence, the navigation of which—at all times difficult and dangerous—is closed by ice during five months of the year, and thus all intercourse through the States, except by sleighs, stopped. Now, goods may be brought direct to Boston and shipped to Europe, or unshipped at Boston for the Canadas without interruption. But in a moral and social point of view, the subject is still more important. Rivalry and bad feeling vanish before intercourse, and the locomotive mows down prejudices faster than corn falls before the Yankee reaping-machine.

When I heard that there was to be a procession, the word vulgarised the whole affair. It conjured up before my mind's eye our doings of the sort in England, with the Lord Mayor's Show at the head of them; and I concluded that the Yankee attempt would be still more trashy. Let us see how it turned out. I send you a newspaper for the details; but here you must be a spectator, with the whole picture dashing, mass by mass, upon your sensorium.

As the first requisite for enjoyment, it was a glorious day even for this climate. Nothing shews off a pageant like fine weather. I left home shortly after daybreak, and went to the Common, as it is called—a Park about as large as St James's, handsomely laid out, with long alleys, some parallel, others crossing at various angles, and all shaded by fine trees. The scene presented by this Park reminded me of Camacho's wedding in Don Quixote, on a large scale. There stood the tent for the banquet, constructed to dine 3000 persons, and decorated with the flags of America and England streaming from the top, with the flags of other nations below. Close by, were large tents for the preparation of viands, surrounded with all the paraphernalia of a feast. In various places, booths had been erected by the city, for the gratuitous supply of all comers with pure iced water, and these were thronged throughout the day, especially with children. The pedestrian portion of the procession assembled in the Park, while the vehicles crowded all the adjacent streets. And now might be observed the various societies, with their bands of music; volunteer companies marching here and there, getting into step, arranging their order and practising their tunes. I was chatting with a raw Vermonter, who was as much a stranger as myself. 'In the name of creation,' he suddenly exclaimed, 'what tarnal screeching is that yonder?' 'That,' I said, 'is the bagpipes, the national music of Scotland.' 'That?' said he: 'it would clear a State of racoons in no time!' But the Scots had determined to shine, and they advanced: a tall Highlander first, in full costume, and blowing the pipes at his loudest; after him ten others, in full Highland costume, with a banner—the Scottish Friends; and about 200 with silk sashes, and walking three abreast. The Catholic Irishmen followed, with a banner displaying a portrait of the Pope and other Catholic emblems; and directly after came the Protestant Irishmen, with their banners and music. Why will they not associate thus in their own land? A very interesting portion of the assembling was a party of about a thousand fine-looking, hardy men, all remarkably clean, dressed in labourers' costume—blue blouses and white trousers—headed by a band of music playing Irish popular tunes, with a large banner of the stars and stripes, and the word 'Liberty,' with the inscription—'The Irish Labourers. Under this we find Protection for our Labour.'

The Park is an irregular square. On the north side, on the highest point of the city, stands the State-House, where the legislature meets. Near that is the house which was formerly inhabited by the governor, at the time the British flag waved where there now fly, glancing in the sun, the stars and stripes. As the president was expected at the State-House, and the procession was to start from thence, that was the point of attraction, where the spectators formed into a vast, dense, and steady mass. We English are in the habit of seeing the paraphernalia of courts, and are slow to disconnect the ideas of pomp and state from the persons of those who hold power and distinction; but the chief of this great nation, together with the secretary of state, had arrived in town by railway in an ordinary carriage, without the least parade, and the corporation had hired for the occasion an open carriage-and-four—such an equipage as would have passed quite unnoticed in an English provincial town. Let me here observe, that by an ordinary carriage I mean a carriage open to all; for in America there are no locomotive distinctions of 1st, 2d, and 3d classes. I never saw expectation more on tiptoe. A rattle round the corner was heard; then the noise of the wheels ceased, and then the president—a tall, gentlemanly-looking, elderly man—was ascending the steps of the State-House; and as soon as his gray locks were seen by the immense multitude, such a shout arose as only Anglo-Saxon lungs can raise and prolong. The president turned round on the landing of the steps, took off his hat, bowed, and entered the hall. I have seen many ceremonies, regal and imperial, which passed off very much like a scene at a theatre; but I felt the sublime simplicity of this. There is no road to distinction here but talent; and as the fine old man stood on the steps bowing, with Mr Webster, Secretary of State, by his side, they looked the very embodiment of intellect, and the manly, overpowering shout of the crowd the recognition of it. The multitudinous voices died away in the distance with a peculiar effect. No firing of guns. While on this part of the subject, I may mention my strong impression, that in no place is the government so much respected as in America. The public press may ridicule and joke upon certain acts of individuals; but whatever side is taken, there is nothing that can bring the laws, or those who administer them, into disrespect. This produces order to an extent unknown elsewhere. No one seems to question the law or the commands of its officers excepting Europeans, who bring their turbulent habits with them.

Leaving this imposing scene, I turned to the route of the procession, which had been advertised to pass through certain streets. In some degree to account for the masses of human beings that filled them, the three railways had kept pouring people in for three days, and the trains, immediately on arrival, turned back to fetch the thousands they had left waiting at the stations. It was said that there never was such a gathering in one place since the independence of the States. The arrangements of the pageant were made by the committee of the city; but the audience, or public, arranged themselves, and never was there anything better done. Along the whole line of streets, about three miles in length, the goods had been removed from the shop-windows, and their places filled with ladies. Every window that commanded a view was appropriated to females and children, who were likewise in many cases on the tops of the houses. Men occupied the pavement to the kerbstone. The roadway was kept by deputy-marshals, who rode up and down, in black dress suits, cocked, open hats, and white sashes; and in this vast assemblage their every request was immediately attended to. At the end of every street, carriages of all descriptions were placed, filled with people. As an instance of the courtesy of the spectators, my wife had handed our Little Red Ridinghood to some gentleman on the top of an omnibus, who very kindly held her up to see the show, and took charge of her while Mrs W– found her way to the window where her place had been kept. If anything could mark the kindly disposition and good order of the crowd, it was the fact, that although I should think all the children in the city were there, not one was hurt, but everybody exerted himself to accommodate this interesting portion of the community. Across the streets, and at all available points, the stars and stripes waved proudly in the air, and altogether the scene was most beautiful and imposing. I walked the whole length of the route before the procession moved, and the coup d'oeil was perfect. The military portion looked remarkably well; but when the open carriage appeared in which rode Lord Elgin and his friends, the representative of Great Britain was greeted with such shouts and by such waving of handkerchiefs from the windows by crowds of elegantly dressed females, as I am sure his lordship can never forget. On his part, Lord Elgin continued bowing in acknowledgment, almost without intermission, for two hours and twenty minutes—the time occupied in passing.

Nearly equal to this was the enthusiasm elicited by the appearance of an open carriage, drawn by four grays, and containing only two men, wellnigh ninety years of age, then the sole survivors, in the State of Massachusetts, of those who fought in the War of Independence. It is the custom to shew honour to the survivors of that event on all public occasions. On the 4th of July last, the last public gathering, there were four in the carriage: two are gone. Before the carriage, was carried the banner of Washington, used in the struggle. When these old men raised their withered hands to remove their hats, in reply to the welcome of the crowd, they appeared like spirits of the past. In all probability, they will not appear in public again; but the fruits of their courage will live for ever. The appropriateness and beauty of the arrangement of details were remarkable in the representation of the particular trades. The most imposing objects were the two new locomotives, shining brilliantly in their might of brass and steel, and richly painted; and as they loomed in sight, turning the bends of the streets, they were truly magnificent and appropriate objects. Each was raised upon a car, so that, on the whole, it was thirty feet high; it was drawn by eighteen iron-gray horses, all in line, decorated with blue ribbons, and handsomely caparisoned; each horse being led by a workman, in clean, new, working costume. The next was a procession on foot. Eight negroes, in Eastern costume, walked as guards round a platform, carried palanquin-fashion by four negroes, with 5000 ounces of manufactured silver-plate, built up in a pyramid, and forming a splendid object, fully equal in workmanship to anything of the kind I have seen. A very interesting part of the pageant was the children of the different schools, in four-wheeled cars, covered with drapery, and decorated with flowers and plants; and it was really pleasing to see the happy little creatures enjoying such a holiday as they would never forget. It is impossible to give a third of the details of this unique procession; but I cannot omit to notice the last feature—the labourers on their truck-horses. These were the carmen of the town. Their clean, healthy, happy faces, with their glossy horses, decorated with ribbons, made me regard them as the best and proudest cavalry a nation could have. These are all men who, a very short time since, landed from the Old World—fugitives from misery and starvation.

I had a ticket offered me for the banquet, but I preferred being outside among the people. I have had enough of dinner-speeches in my time, although this occasion was one of peculiar interest. The Park continued to be crowded to excess; and as the company arrived, they were greeted by the people and the bands of music stationed here and there. But what sound is that? They are drinking toasts within; and one is now given which stirs the vast multitude like an electrical shock. I cannot hear at first, the roar is so deafening: but presently I am able to analyse the sounds that have caused the commotion; and I confess it is with a beating heart, and a sort of choking sensation in the throat, I hear every lip repeat—'The Queen of England!' and every band in the Park take up from the music in the tent our own national strain, till the whole atmosphere vibrates with God save the Queen! The effect was magical, and I felt gratified beyond measure—not alone at the compliment to our country, but as evidence that the Anglo-Saxons are still one great community, and that the proceedings of that day would rivet between the two countries the bond of common blood. The day closed as happily as it had begun, and the streets were crowded up to a late hour. I was in all the thickest of the press, and I know that there was not a single accident, nor did I see or hear of any instance of drunkenness or disorder. All was harmony and good-humour.

I would mention, as a strong proof of the growing interest felt for the old country here, in New England especially, that almost every family is desirous of being known to be connected with it. They have all English names; and a numerous society have employed a gentleman of skill in such matters for the last ten years in England in tracing out the English branches of the different families, in the State, so as to have the genealogy complete. This has become a passion; and I have found every person I met who could trace his descent from the mother-country proud of it. I fell in, the other day, with a highly intelligent American, who told me with quite a feeling of pride, that his grandfather and grandmother were English, and his wife's father a Scot.

THINGS TALKED OF IN LONDON

    January 1852.

Notwithstanding our busy and acquisitive propensities, we of the metropolis have found time to wish one another a happy new-year, and to send friendly greetings to our country cousins also. We don't like to take the step from one year into another without a coup d'amitié. Besides all which, we are in the habit of considering ourselves at the present season more than ever entitled to partake of the recreations offered us, whether theatrical, musical, pictorial, saltatorial, philosophical, or scientific. And so, while simple-minded people are looking into the new almanacs to test the accuracy of the predictions, I must try to fill a page or two with such matters of talk as will bear reproduction in print.

First of all, among the discussions and communications at the Astronomical Society, it is stated that the term 'meteoric astronomy' is one which we shall shortly be able to use with almost absolute certainty, as M. Petit of Toulouse has succeeded in determining the orbits of meteors relatively to the sun as well as to the earth. His conclusions are considered valuable, especially with respect to the meteor of August 19, 1847, which, it appears, came 'from the regions of space beyond our system;' having, as is estimated, occupied more than 373,000 years in passing from its point of departure to its fall in the North Sea, near the shores of Belgium! This is another addition to our knowledge of meteoric phenomena which affords promise of further results. Certain members of the same society are still at work on what has been a tedious task—the restoration of the standard yard, rendered necessary, as you will remember, by the destruction of the original in the Parliament-House conflagration, more than ten years ago. The work proceeds slowly but surely, as the extremest pains are taken to insure accuracy, the measurements, bisections, and graduations being read off with a microscope. When finished, it will be centuplicated or more, if necessary, and, as is said, a copy deposited in every corporate town in the kingdom. This restoration of the standard is not so easy a task as would be commonly supposed, for apart from the determination of the yard with mathematical accuracy, alternations of heat and cold have to be taken into account; for, as is well known, a strip of metal which measures thirty-six inches long in a temperature of 70 degrees, will not measure the same in 50 degrees. Connected with this subject, it was stated at one of the meetings of the society, that the ancient Saxon yard was nearly identical with the modern French mètre; whence a suggestion of 'the possibility of the Saxon yard being actually derived from a former measure of the earth, made at a period beyond the range of history, the results of which have been preserved during many centuries of barbarism.' Be this as it may, we are now given to understand that the Egyptian Pyramids, whether originally erected for purposes of sepulture or not, are, at the same time, definite portions of a degree of the earth's surface in the meridian of Egypt; and it has been proposed, as these mighty structures are far more durable even now than anything which we could build in England, that when our standard shall be re-established, the length shall be cut on the side of one of the pyramids, together with such explanatory particulars as may he necessary, so as to preserve the record for all coming time. Modern science thus availing itself of the labours of the past, would be a remarkable incident in the history of philosophy.

The appearance of extraordinary spots on the sun has attracted a more than ordinary degree of attention to that luminary, and to Mr J. Nasmyth's 'views respecting the source of light,' which, though published a few months since, are now again talked about. Mr Nasmyth, after several years' observation, comes to the conclusion, 'that whatever be the source of light, its production appears to result from an action induced on the exterior surface of the solar sphere;' and he believes it reasonable to 'consider the true source of the latent element of light to reside, not in the solar orb, but in space itself; and that the grand function and duty of the sun is to act as an agent for the bringing forth into vivid existence its due portion of the illuminating or luciferous element; which element he supposes to be diffused throughout the boundless regions of space, and which in that case must be perfectly exhaustless. Further, assuming this luciferous element to be not equally diffused through space, we find a reason why in some ages of the earth's history the heat should have been greater than at others, why stars have been seen to vary in brightness, and why there was that puzzle to geologists—a glacial period. During that period, according to Mr Nasmyth, with whose words I finish this part of my communication, 'an arctic climate spread from the poles towards the equator, and left the record of such a condition in glacial handwriting on the mountain walls of our elder mountain ravines, of which there is such abundant and unquestionable evidence.'

Our Microscopical Society have made a discovery in an all but invisible subject: they now state the Volvox globator to be a vegetable, and not, as has long been supposed, an animal, as its cells, presumed to be ova, are produced in the same way as in certain kinds of algæ. In the discussion excited by this announcement, it came out that several other minute forms, classed by Ehrenberg among living animalcules, are in reality vegetable; which, if true, shews that a good deal of microscopical work will have to be done over again. The Syro-Egyptian Society, too, have heard something relating to the same subject—a paper on Ehrenberg's examination by the microscope of the anciently deposited alluvium of the Nile, from which it appears that 'microscopic animals' in countless numbers were the cause of the remarkable fertility of the soil, and not vegetable or unctuous matters. Talking of deposits reminds me of a little fact which I must not forget to mention—the finding of a fossil reptile in the 'Old Red' of your county of Moray is, barring the alarm, as much a cause of astonishment to our geologists, as was the mark of the foot on the sand to Robinson Crusoe.

Now for a few gatherings from the continent. M. Chalambel has laid before the Académie at Paris a 'Note on a Modification to be introduced in the Preparation of Butter, which improves its Quality and prolongs its Preservation.' 'If butter,' he observes, 'contained only the fat parts of milk, it would undergo only very slow alterations when in contact with the air; but it retains a certain quantity of caseum, found in the cream, which caseum, by its fermentation, produces butyric-acid, and to which is owing the disagreeable flavour of rancid butter. The usual washing of butter rids it but very imperfectly of this cause of alteration, for the water does not wet the butter, and cannot dissolve the caseum, which has become insoluble under the influence of the acids that develop themselves in the cream. A more complete separation would be obtained if these acids were saturated; the caseum would again be soluble, and consequently the quantity retained in the butter would be almost entirely carried away by the washing-water.'

The remedy proposed is: 'When the cream is in the churn, pour in—a little at a time, and keep stirring—enough of lime-wash to destroy the acidity entirely. The cream is then to be churned until the butter separates; but before it forms into lumps, the buttermilk is to be poured off, and replaced by cold water, in which the churning is to be continued until the butter is complete, when it is to be taken from the churn and treated as usual. I have,' says M. Chalambel, 'by following this method, obtained butter always better, and which kept longer, than when made in the ordinary way. The buttermilk, deprived of its sharp taste, was drunk with pleasure by men and animals, and had lost its laxative properties.' By means of lime-wash or lime-water, he has restored butter so 'far gone' that it could only have been recovered by melting; but any alkaline lixivium will answer the same purpose.

I have more than once kept you informed of the inquiry concerning the effects of iodine on the human system, which has so long engaged the attention of several eminent chemists on the continent; and now have to report something further by M. Fourcault, whose communication thereupon to the Académie is entitled, 'On the Absence of Iodine in Water and Alimentary Substances, considered as Cause of Goître and Crétinism, and on the Means of Preventing the Development of these Affections.' He has investigated the subject profoundly and analytically, and concludes that 'the absence or insufficiency of iodine in water and in alimentary substances, is to be considered as the primitive cause, special or sui generis, of goître and Crétinism;' that the existence of the diseases does not depend on the presence more or less of sulphate of lime or magnesia in the animal economy; that 'iodine acts in goître as iron in chlorosis—by restoring to the system one of its essential principles;' and that 'the most powerful secondary or auxiliary causes are: a coarse and uniform vegetable regimen; living at the bottom of deep, enclosed valleys; in low and damp houses, into which air and light penetrate with difficulty; the alliance of infected families among themselves; and the want of such employment as would yield a comfortable subsistence and proper development of the physical forces.' In commenting on these statements, Baron Thénard observed that M. Chatain, in the course of his able researches on iodine, had analysed the waters of those Alpine valleys most subject to goître, and found that mineral almost entirely wanting. And it has been proved that sea-salt, containing a minute quantity of ioduret of potassium, acted as a preservative from goître on all the inhabitants of a district who made use of it. The air, too, has been examined as well as the water, and, so far as yet ascertained, the proportion of iodine in the atmosphere is variable, and much greater in amount in some regions than in others. The activity prevailing in this particular branch of inquiry is the more encouraging, as the maladies which it aims at removing are of so peculiarly distressing a nature; and the investigation is one likely to lead also to valuable incidental results.

Next, M. Abeille, chief physician to the hospital at Ajaccio, has an interesting communication—On the employment of electricity to counteract the accidents arising from too long inhalation of ether or chloroform. He found that patients submitted to galvano-puncture could not be rendered insensible by the effects of ether—the galvanism invariably restored sensation—and taking this accidentally-discovered fact as the basis of further research, he set to work and made a series of experiments on living animals, and arrived at results which in a brief summary are: that electricity, made to operate by means of needles implanted in several parts of the body, especially in the direction of the cerebro-spinal axis, reawakes sensibility, and immediately puts the relaxed muscles into play. 'It constitutes,' he adds, 'according to my experiments, the most prompt and efficacious means—I may say the only efficacious—to restore to life any person whose inhalation of chloroform has been prolonged beyond the time prescribed by prudence. It is the first means to which recourse ought to be had; and trials made in other ways appeared to me to lead to nothing but loss of time, which in many cases would be fatal.'

M.H. Deschamps says, that there is a 'certain sign of death,' which, if attended to, will entirely prevent risk of that much-dreaded accident—premature interment. It is a certain green tinge which always makes its appearance on the abdomen, even before the cadaverous smell, and is a positive evidence that decomposition has begun. There are some people to whom the knowledge of this fact will be a satisfaction; but if, as is popularly supposed, bodies are not unfrequently buried alive, how is it that we never hear of a revival in a dissecting-room? Then, on another point of physiology, M. Payerne states, with regard to the distress experienced by many persons in the ascent of a high mountain, 'that the lassitude and breathlessness felt in elevated places appear to proceed, not from an insufficiency of oxygen, but rather from the rupture of the equilibrium between the tension of the fluids contained in our organs and that of the ambient air, whatever be the way in which the rupture is produced.' And, to close these physiological matters, M. Chuart begs the Académie to include among their premiums for rendering arts or trades less insalubrious, one for 'different inventions designed to diminish the frequency of accidents which take place in coal-mines from explosions of gas.' How much such inventions are needed, recent events in our own coal districts but too painfully demonstrate.

Our Meteorological Society may perhaps take a hint from M. Liais's suggestion as to the 'possibility of applying photography to determine the height of clouds, and to the observation of shooting-stars;' and M.F. Cailliaud, director of the museum at Nantes, says something not uninteresting to naturalists—namely, that the statements commonly made, that all molluscous animals perforate stone by means of an acid, is not the fact with regard to Pholades and Tarets. He observes, that although a workman would be amazed on hearing a proposition to pierce calcareous stone with the shell of a Pholas, yet he himself has done it, and holds the success to be a proof that the animal can do the same. The idea of the acid might be accepted, while it was proved that the creatures were to be found only in limestone; but now that he has sent to the Académie specimens of gneiss and mica schist, containing pholades, on which the acid has no effect, he conceives that they must have entered by boring. They have also been found in porphyry—a fact of which Brongniart said, many years ago, that nature had concealed the explanation, and we must wait for a solution. Whether M. Cailliaud's solution be the true one or not, is a point that will soon be verified or disproved by geologists and naturalists, who are never better pleased than when an inquiry, which may lead to new views of nature, opens before them.

That the age of great books is not past, is proved by an arrival from America—the United States' government having presented to several public and private institutions in this country, a large, handsome quarto, which contains, to quote the whole title, Historical and Statistical Information respecting the History, Condition, and Prospects of the Indian Tribes of the United States, collected and prepared under the Direction of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, per Act of Congress. The preparation and arrangement of this work having been intrusted to Mr Schoolcraft is a sufficient guarantee for its value. It throws much light on the Indian tribes of North America, and rectifies many erroneous ideas and impressions concerning them and their origin. Perhaps you will allow me to give you, in a few words, the author's views on this part of the subject. He considers the ancient monuments, found in parts of the United States and in Mexico, to have originated within five hundred years of the dispersion from Babel; that the Indians are the Almogic branch of the Eber-ites; and that the ancient monuments do not denote so high a degree of civilisation as is generally supposed. It is only since the discovery of America by Europeans that anything like certainty attaches to the history of the natives. The Mohicans 'preserve the memory of the appearance and voyage of Hudson, up the river bearing his name, in 1609;' and among other tribes similar traditions are retained. In the wrong-headedness and persistence of idea, the Indians entirely resemble the Oriental branches of the great Semitic family; and the evidence shews that originally they crossed over from Asia at Behring's Strait, a voyage still performed in canoes to the present day. One of the titles of Montezuma was Lord of the Seven Caves; and the caves in which tradition says the traverse took place, are taken to be the caves or subterranean abodes still used by the Aleutian islanders. This was current among the Aztecs in 1519, and the voyage of the United States' Exploring Expedition has furnished a philological proof of connection, in the peculiar termination of nouns in tl, which is common to the inhabitants of Nootka Sound, as it was to the Aztecs. The more the Indians are studied, the more does everything about them appear to be Eastern—their language, religion, calendar, architecture, &c. Their worship of fire in the open air, avoiding the use of temples, is precisely that of Zoroaster, as is also their leading doctrine of two spirits—good and evil—ruling the world; and the allegory of the egg of Ormuzd has been found in an earthwork on the top of a hill in Adams's County, Ohio. 'It represents the coil of a serpent, 700 feet long, but it is thought would reach, if deprived of its curves, 1000 feet. The jaws of the serpent are represented as widely distended, as if in the act of swallowing. In the interstice is an oval or egg-shaped mound.' This repetition of a symbol is considered as further proof of Eastern derivation.

Do not suppose, however, that this is a sample of the whole volume, for ample details and information are given on all matters connected with the Indians—their arts, habits, pursuits, pictorial literature (so to speak), sports, and agriculture. Some idea of their capabilities in husbandry may be gathered from the fact, that in Michigan, ancient 'garden-beds' have been discovered, extending for 150 miles along the banks of rivers. Students will find a mine of information in this book, which, though but the first of a series, contains nearly 600 pages—a rare feast for ethnologists.

The Royal Irish Academy in Dublin have published a report of their proceedings, which comprise reports on rain-falls, meteors, ancient urns, and other Irish antiquities, besides Roman and Carthaginian; on hygrometry, chiefly with regard to the pressure of the dew-point; and on artificial islands. Of the latter, it appears that several exist in different parts of Ireland; but the one to which attention is particularly directed is near Strokestown, Roscommon. The lake Clonfinlough having been drained by the Board of Works, the structure of the islet, which had long occupied its centre, was laid bare. It proved to be about 130 feet in diameter, constructed on oak piles, forming a sort of 'triple stockade,' with stems laid flat towards the centre for a floor, over which earth, clay, and marl were heaped, with two flat irregular stone-floors covering the whole at different depths below the surface. Two canoes were also found, each hollowed out of a single tree, and a great collection of miscellaneous ornaments and domestic utensils—all of which being illustrative of different periods of Irish history, will receive due attention at the hands of Irish antiquaries. Visitors to the Society's Museum will be gratified to know that Mr Petrie is preparing a catalogue of that valuable and interesting assemblage of rarities. He is to begin with the Stone Period, and come down to the Bronze and Iron, according to their respective dates, with dissertations prefixed. This is following the good example set by your Scottish Society of Antiquaries.

It is a fact honourable to the society that they do not confine their honours exclusively to contributors to their own 'Transactions.' At their late anniversary, they gave their gold medal to the Rev. J.H. Jellett, for his labours in treating the noblest mathematical subjects in a way to make them intelligible to students. As the president said in his address: 'Descending from the more desirable position of an inventor to the humbler but more useful one of enabling others to place themselves on a level with himself, by compiling for their use an excellent elementary treatise, he has conferred on his species a benefit of the highest order,' in a work which otherwise was 'as little likely to be given to the world as it was desirable that it should be so.'

It is time to close; but I must first clear off a few miscellaneous items. The Admiralty Report concerning the Arctic expeditions is canvassed pretty freely, and with significant hints that justice has not been rendered in its conclusions. We can only hope that really efficient commanders will be sent out with the expedition that is to be despatched in April or May next; if not, it will be abortive, as the others have been, and we shall never know what has become of Franklin. It appears that the news of Collinson's ships being on their return is unfounded. It was communicated from the United States, and has been contradicted; and for all we know to the contrary, Collinson and his coadjutor Maclure may come home next summer by way of Baffin's Bay. There are now 226 telegraph stations connected with the central establishment in Lothbury, behind the Bank of England. Of these, 70 are principal stations, at which the attendance is day and night; and in the whole, a distance of 2500 miles is embraced, with 800 more over which the wires are now being stretched. The charges for transmission of messages have been lowered with a beneficial result, the business of the telegraph having greatly increased. There must be a still further reduction before the 'thought-flasher' becomes as generally available here as it is in America. It is now in real earnest going to Ireland. A ship has been despatched to fetch Cleopatra's so-called 'needle:' the Panopticon at length has found a local habitation, and is assuming a tangible form in the shape of bricks and mortar: ocean steamers are more than ever talked about; and every month a new one, better than all before, is launched: gold, too, is a favourite topic; and Australian and Californian mining-shares are plentiful in the market; so also are those of Irish Waste-Land Improvement Companies, who, in addition to the reclamation, propose to grow beet-root, flax, and chicory. At last we have got one or two penny news-rooms—not so good, however, as yours in Edinburgh; and a project is mooted to establish reading and waiting rooms combined, in different parts of the capital. There is talk, too, of central railway termini, of new bridges, new streets, and of converting Kennington Common into a park—how soon to be realised remains to be seen.

THE TURN OF LIFE

From forty to sixty, a man who has properly regulated himself, may be considered as in the prime of life. His matured strength of constitution renders him almost impervious to the attacks of disease, and experience has given his judgment the soundness of almost infallibility. His mind is resolute, firm, and equal; all his functions are in the highest order; he assumes the mastery over business; builds up a competence on the foundation he has formed in early manhood, and passes through a period of life attended by many gratifications. Having gone a year or two past sixty, he arrives at a critical period in the road of existence; the river of death flows before him, and he remains at a stand-still. But athwart this river is a viaduct, called 'The turn of Life,' which, if crossed in safety, leads to the valley, 'Old Age.' The bridge is constructed of fragile materials, and it depends upon how it is trodden whether it bend or break. Gout, apoplexy, and other bad characters are also in the vicinity to waylay the traveller, and thrust him from the pass; but let him gird up his loins, and provide himself with a fitting staff, and he may trudge on in safety with perfect composure. To quit a metaphor, the 'Turn of Life' is a turn either into a prolonged walk or into the grave. The system and power having reached their utmost expansion, now begin either to close like flowers at sunset, or break down at once. One injudicious stimulant—a single fatal excitement, may force it beyond its strength—whilst a careful supply of props, and the withdrawal of all that tends to force a plant, will sustain it in beauty and in vigour until night has entirely set.—The Science of Life, by a Physician.

NERVE

An Indian sword-player declared at a great public festival, that he could cleave, vertically, a small lime laid on a man's palm without injury to the member; and the general (Sir Charles Napier) extended his right hand for the trial. The sword-player, awed by his rank, was reluctant, and cut the fruit horizontally. Being urged to fulfil his boast, he examined the palm, said it was not one to be experimented on with safety, and refused to proceed. The general then extended his left hand, which was admitted to be suitable in form; yet the Indian still declined the trial; and when pressed, twice waved his thin, keen-edged blade, as if to strike, and twice withheld the blow, declaring he was uncertain of success. Finally, he was forced to make trial, and the lime fell open, cleanly divided: the edge of the sword had just marked its passage over the skin without drawing a drop of blood!—Sir Charles Napier's Administration in Scinde.

WIRE USED IN EMBROIDERY

In the manufacture of embroidery fine threads of silver gilt are used. To produce these, a bar of silver, weighing 180 ounces, is gilt with an ounce of gold; this bar is then wire-drawn until it is reduced to a thread so fine that 3400 feet of it weigh less than an ounce. It is then flattened by being submitted to a severe pressure between rollers, in which process its length is increased to 4000 feet. Each foot of the flattened wire weighs, therefore, the 4000th part of an ounce. But as in the processes of wire-drawing and rolling the proportion of the two metals is maintained, the gold which covers the surface of the fine thread thus produced consists only of the 180th part of its whole weight. Therefore the gold which covers one foot is only the 720,000th part of an ounce, and consequently the gold which covers an inch will be the 8,640,000th part of an ounce. If this inch be again divided into 100 equal parts, each part will be distinctly visible without the aid of a microscope, and yet the gold which covers such visible part will be only the 864,000,000th part of an ounce. But we need not stop even here. This portion of the wire may be viewed through a microscope which magnifies 500 times; and by these means, therefore, its 500th part will become visible.—Lardner's Handbook.

CHEAP LIVING

In the interior of Bulgaria and Upper Moesia, the low price of provision and cattle of every description is almost fabulous compared with the prices of Western Europe. A fat sheep or lamb usually costs from 1s. 6d. to 2s.; an ox, 40s.; cows, 30s.; and a horse, in the best possible travelling condition, from L.4 to L.5 sterling; wool, hides, tallow, wax, and honey, are equally low. In the towns and hans by the road-side everything is sold by weight: you can get a pound of meat for a halfpenny, a pound of bread for the same, and wine, which is also sold by weight, costs about the same money. In Servia, pigs everywhere form the staple commodity of the country. I have seen some that, would weigh from 150 lbs. to 200 lbs. or more offered for sale at 300 Turkish piastres the dozen; in the neighbourhood of the Danube they fetch a little more. The expense of keeping these animals in a country abounding with forests being so trifling, and the prospect of gain to the proprietor so certain, we cannot wonder that no landowner is without them, and that they constitute the richest class in the principality. In fact, pig-jobbers are here men of the highest rank: the prince, his ministers, civil and military governors, are all engaged in this lucrative traffic.—Spencer's Travels.

MOUNTAINS IN SNOW

Cold—oh, deathly cold—and silent, lie the white hills 'neath
the sky,
Like a soul whom fate has covered with thy snows, Adversity!
Not a sough of wind comes moaning; the same outline, high and
bare,
As in pleasant days of summer, rises in the murky air.