LETTERS TO THE READER

MY DEAR READER,

No. II.

I OFTEN find it an instructive exercise to compare the slow and interrupted civilization of early ages with the steady and progressive improvement of later times. Early civilization was slow while yet the human race was but a few generations older than the individual, and consequently there had not been time for much scientific research: it was also interrupted, because several attempts at universal empire had confined it to a few centres of political power, with the rise and fall of which it consequently fluctuated. The civilization of modern days, on the contrary, has been steady and progressive, because the discoveries of former ages have served as steppingstones to further facts. The art of printing has preserved and spread abroad the results of knowledge, and the division of the world into many separate nations has multiplied the sources of improvement, each exciting the other with a laudable emulation. But we, who start from our advanced position, must take care not to think too highly of ourselves, when we exult in the prospects of our species. Having had the advantage of the collective discoveries and revelations which were, at best, but partially known to those who preceded us, what have we, as individuals, done towards preparing society for a still more perfect civilization? There are, I fear, but few| that devote their lives to the extension and application of the public property in knowledge and religion, and thus become the "moral pioneers" of after-ages. One among that limited number was Howard the philanthropist, to whose character we shall not do justice without separating it from the history of his age. At the time when that great man directed attention to the neglected state of the prisons of the world, the science of the public health yet formed but a small part of medical science in general: the art of preventing disease had not assumed, as at the present time, an equal importance with the healing art; it was from his own energies and sympathies that he drew strength to go forth upon his mission of love and knowledge to suffering humanity.

Shall we admire his purpose, and fail to copy his example? Recent official reports tell us that "there is more filth, worse physical suffering and moral disorder than Howard describes as affecting the prisoners, to be found amongst the cellar population of the working people in Liverpool, Manchester, or Leeds, and in large portions of the metropolis." The knowledge of social evils, together with the means of their prevention, being given, shall the Christian heart which animated Howard be withheld, whereby we may render natural science the worthy handmaid of religion?

To examine into the causes of misery, to exert the reason, for the purpose of separating avoidable from necessary ills, is a duty that we owe to self-preservation on the one hand, and Christian sufferance on the other. It can be no matter of surprise that, amidst other errors, man should at one time offer useless resistance to merciful afflictions, and at another should give way at the approach of ordinary troubles. As an individual I have observed instances in which, if the results of natural science, as tested by experience, can be trusted, the health of whole families has been blighted, the lives of valuable parents been shortened, not by the usual laws of mortality, but through manifest neglect of such means of health and life, as it hath pleased the Almighty to unfold to human reason. And I admired, and would wish to imitate, the resignation of their sorrowing friends, and would believe that, as regards individuals, such bodily pains are spiritual blessings. But because God, by means all powerful as they are merciful, brings forth fruits of good from seeds of ill, I cannot therefore limit my faith in those preventive means which are given to enable us to anticipate these social evils.

An efficient sewerage and drainage are the main conditions of public health, while ventilation and personal and domestic cleanliness are the essentials of an wholesome home. Attention to the sewers of Rome, at the end of the fourteenth century, soon raised the population of that city from 30,000 to 80,000; while subsequent neglect afterwards reduced the number of the same people to 32,000.

At Vareggio, in the principality of Lucca, the inhabitants, miserable, were annually, from time immemorial, attacked (observes M. Villermé,) few in number, barbarous, and about the same period with agues; but in 1741 flood-gates were constructed, which permitted the escape into the sea of the waters from the marshes, preventing at the same time the ingress of the ocean to these marshes, both from tides and storms. This contrivance, which permanently suppressed the marsh, also expelled the fevers. In short, the canton of Vareggio is, at the present day, one of the healthiest, most industrious, and richest on the coast of Tuscany; and a part of those families whose boorish ancestors sunk under the epidemic of aria cativa, (Italian for bad air,) without KNOWLEDGE to protect themselves, enjoy a health, a vigour, a longevity, and a moral character unknown to their ancestors.

Nor are such things confined to foreign countries. The town of Portsmouth, which is built upon a low portion of the marshy isle of Portsea, was formerly much afflicted with the same disease that desolated Vareggio. But, in 1769, the town was paved, and the ague disappeared; "whilst Kilsea and other parts of the island retained the aguish disposition until 1793, when a drainage was made, which subdued its force."

The natural principles upon which these improvements are founded, are very far from being the privi leges of wealth, or of power, so called. Like all large blessings they are as universal in their application as the knowledge which conveys them. The owner of the poorest tenement has it in his power to make his home a centre either of life or death, in proportion as he avails himself of the arts of health, or suffers the instruments of disease to do their worst. In a garden that belonged to some premises which I rented some two years since, dear reader, in the island of Malta, was a hedge of the common horse-shoe geranium, at least eight feet high. From long neglect, the soil under and around this floral fence had become one mass of mouldy leaves, while the hedge itself was choked with the dead wood of several seasons, which putrified the air and hindered ventilation. Nothing could exceed the beauty and the danger of this portion of the garden; by day its unbroken band of scarlet blossoms could be seen across the harbour from the city of Valletta; after night-fall, when the wind was still, the atmosphere, which was elsewhere fragrant with the heavy perfumes of the south, became most offensive to the smell along the line of hedge to an extent of about three feet on each side of it. Anxious to remove the cause, I set about to clean the surface of the ground, as well as the plants themselves, from all decayed vegetation; but I soon fell ill with fever, and the native gardener, a tall, strong, healthy, able man, crawled to the hospital shortly after, before the task was finished.

I have no doubt but that vegetable malaria, the aria cativa of Vareggio, (vapour arising from decaying vegetable matter,) was the cause of the disease. When the English first received possession of the island at the beginning of the present century, the land was but slovenly cultivated, and intermittent fever, or ague, was rife among the natives. This had almost become extinct, except at one or two points where the drainage was defective, until a severe drought during the years 1839, 1840, and 1841, destroyed a large portion of the general vegetation, and reduced the surface almost to the condition of an uncultivated country. During the autumn of 1841, numerous cases of fever of an intermittent character consequently occurred throughout the island.

Again, I may remark that similar effects occur in cur

own more temperate and better cultivated country. It is only five months since I entered upon some premises within a few miles of London, drainage from which there was none, and which the proprietor confessed to me had been occupied the four previous years without any attempt to lessen, still less to remedy, the increasing mischief. The soil, which is porous, absorbed by dint of rain the liquid portion of the nuisance, (as if to teach man the necessity of washing even the earth itself,) and let it ooze into the kitchen well, which acted as a perpendicular sewer. The water, of course, came up like liquid manure, and if the garden ground had not been already saturated with gaseous manure, or the vaporous exhalations from impure sources, (or animal malaria,) I might have applied it to that purpose. That a source of impurity existed, was ascertained by personal observation; that the natural drain, effected through a porous soil by heaven's rain, washed a solution of the corrupted matter into the earth below this source, was proved by the pollution of the well; that a poisonous gas, or vapour, arose through the soil above the source, and from thence into the external atmosphere, was evident from such effects taking place upon the health of the indwellers as are known, by medical experience, to follow the absorption of foul air into the blood of man. Considering any active measures to be dangerous while the family were in the house, I ordered no water whatever to be drawn from the well, and made a free use of chloride of lime. This salt, from the strong affinity of one of its constituents (chlorine gas) for some of the elements of animal substances, possesses the property of destroying contagious matters and bad odours. But the evil was beyond the art of chemistry. I fell ill with symptoms of fever which would probably have ended in typhus, except for prompt and constant medical attention, and a female servant, a remarkably strong healthybodied woman, was attacked with a severe and dangerous dysentery. It is to be remarked that she passed the whole day on the ground-floor, and was consequently more exposed to the action of poisonous vapours, which generally hang heavily over the surface of the soil. A further proof that these diseases arose from the source ascribed to them, is that they ceased upon our removal from the house, and not till then, and that a child belonging to a person left behind to superintend the thorough purification of the premises was seized with cholera. It should likewise be added that these diseases were not at that time prevailing in the surrounding neighbourhood. The foregoing are examples, the first of vegetable, the last of animal malaria, both arising from the neglect— I think criminal neglect,-of removing organized matter in a decomposing, putrid, and unwholesome condition. This matter, productive of disease to indolence, is invaluable to the farmer for manure. "We know that vegetables are very dear in our markets," said a physician. "Why?" "Because our gardens are not sufficiently manured; this manure lies in our lanes and alleys and only wants collecting; but what would this be compared with the benefits of health from the purification of our atmosphere which its removal would produce?" The general and fatal nature of contagions would appear to be a warning to us that the duty of preventing the cause is as surely entailed upon each class as is the danger of being infected by it. How frequently in families, where great attention is paid to health, does fever which can be traced to no apparent source carry children to early graves! Beginning its ravages amongst the infant population of the poor, it next falls with the greatest intensity on adults, in the full vigour of life, whose existence is of most value to their friends and country. Which of us can say but what we may not this very day, during our intercourse with society, bring home to those we love the seeds of fatal fever? Far be it from me, however, by appealing to affection, to unman active exertion. After having done our best at home let us urge the knowledge of, and

necessity of attention to, tne means of prevention. We shall have to combat much ignorance and poverty, but must not forget that "while fever is undoubtedly to be regarded as the visitation of God, it is also to be regarded as the visitation of God for the sin of neglecting a population fallen in character and habits."

It requires, however, early association with nature for a mind to possess the power of calculating the action of matter upon life. For this reason, I would that children could be brought to play with matter from their earliest hours, so as to familiarize their minds with all its natural forms and properties. natural forms and properties. Without neglecting the beauty of a flower, I would not cramp their appetite of observation, for example, down to the barren details of botanical arrangement, but would push on towards such facts and principles as would have the widest use in after life. Even the limited scope of the native parish would afford ample means of valuable instruction. The daily walk, if varied with judgment, would teach the physical geography of the district; to follow the various water-courses would lead them along the natural boundaries of the different levels of the land; while in many an honest husbandman the child would find a fund of knowledge upon the nature of the surface-soil. The cutting of a new road, the digging the foundation of a house, or the formation of a rail-road, would tell the secrets of the subsoil. The method of drainage, as practically illustrated by the pattern farmer of the parish, should be followed out in its effects upon his crops, as well as regards the health of neighbouring cottagers; and no unfortunate instance of epidemic fever should occur without the apparent causes of it being strongly impressed upon the young observer.

The largeness of such lessons would satisfy the eager curiosity of childhood. Instead of learning by rote the names of objects, whereby the memory is strengthened for a time but the mind eventually weakened, the youthful student, would draw in health with wisdom, and by receiving knowledge from so called unlearned men, would be prepared to sympathize with their joys and sorrows. When the laws of nature are thus unfolded in all their beauty and goodness, as they would be by an intelligent and pious mother, their effect, and I have watched it, is to counteract the deadening influence of artificial example, and to preserve the purest of our early associations.

The constant changes of the weather would supply food for another series of conversations. Observations upon light, electricity, and other atmospheric phenomena, in relation to the health of plants and animals, could be illustrated by such easy experiments as causing seeds to germinate under favourable and unhealthy conditions, as in the dark, in badly ventilated places, with an excess of surface-water, &c., with the view of making visible the control that is given us over natural functions. A desire for the extension of knowledge would be created by showing that freedom from fever and successful agriculture equally depend upon the efficient drainage of the surface-water, and that the ploughboy is in want of the same fundamental facts for the right understanding and practice of his art, as the physician requires for the prevention of disease. Not a plant can be raised, nor child brought up, without the effects of temperature, light, air, and food upon the functions of breathing, circulation, digestion, &c., being duly calculated. keen wind that withers the leaves of vegetables, which are the organs of their respiration, nips the tender lungs of infants exposed to its influence. The over-crowded sleeping-room corrupts the air, and consequently the blood of those that breathe it, as certainly as the juices of greenhouse flowers are rendered diseased by their being too closely pent together with an insufficient supply of fresh air. The 8000 inhabited cellars in Liverpool, for want of light and air, are as pernicious to their occupants, estimated at the number of from 35,000 to 40,000, as

The

other cellars are to vegetation. Therefore, at least, the amount of natural science which is enjoyed by the gardener should be extended to every mother for the object of reducing the frightful mortality of sixty-two per cent. of children of the labouring classes of our countrymen that die before the age of five years.

The poorer classes, I am of opinion, especially require to be well grounded in a knowledge of the more general laws of nature. That they who have to earn their bread by working, in some way or other, the stubborn matter of which our earth is formed should possess few other ideas about their materials than such as pass current with an unlettered people, evidently entails a loss of social power. The ploughman and the miner can doubtless tell to an inquiring child a happy lesson upon soils and rocks, just so far as they appear to be connected with the money-value of their labours, but for want of principles that form the natural hinge between their facts and others, they can hardly improve as intelligent agents, or even use up the information which they do possess for the good of their health and homes.

Without humane reflections I fear it is easy for us to overlook the amount and nature of the knowledge which each man wants to enable him to fulfil the duties of reason. We are endowed with such an exquisite organization as makes ignorance of it ingratitude in the possessor. The matter of which we are formed is similar to that which circulates through other earthly channels; the organs that are built up with matter, are subjected to powerful influences that are placed within, and constantly call for, the control of reason; the functions of these organs are the instruments of every social and domestic duty and ill bear debility and pain, the prevention of which is as easy as the cure is difficult.

When man shall be brought to acknowledge (as truth must finally constrain him to acknowledge), that it is by his own hand, through his neglect of a few obvious rules, that the seeds of disease are most lavishly sown within his frame, and diffused over communities; when he shall have required of medical science to occupy itself rather with the prevention of maladies than with their cure; when governments shall be induced to consider the preservation of a nation's health an object as important as the promotion of its commerce, or the maintenance of its conquests, we may hope then to see the approach of those times when, after a life spent almost without sickness, we shall close the term of our unharassed existence by a peaceful dissolution.

Nor can we believe that the more admirable faculty of mind was lent only for the provision of the body. I would that the mental vision of every man were so strengthened as to take in the ends of life, that the objects of to-day, and the hopes of to-morrow, could be compared with the fruits of eternity,that the designs of love that would restore bodily health, mental vigour, and spiritual purity, to our race, could be revealed to every sufferer. Το prepare the child of man for thus recovering the lost image of his first creation, I would examine the causes that were acting upon the individual. Within I should find germs of diseases, superstitions, and corruptions, both inherited and acquired; without, perhaps, a moral atmosphere as ill-ventilated as the closed cabins of the abject poor. For such causes of evil as were within my personal power I would substitute antagonist conditions; I would educate the mind and feelings to a just sense of those which the individual himself could best subdue; and would join with him in beseeching the Almighty to remove others that taught the lesson of our weakness.

I am acquainted with a parish situated in an agricul

tural county, which contains, besides numerous small farms, a considerable quantity of barren heath and open forest-land. The cultivated portion affords by far too little labour to the working poor; the forest is allowed by long usage to yield them fire-wood, and from the heath a miserable and precarious subsistence is obtained

by the collection of manure. An enclosure of the waste land is the remedy proposed, which is looked forward to by the labouring population as a serious evil. Clinging to the privilege of gleaning a casual livelihood from the refuse of uncultivated lands, they are not sufficiently educated to be able to calculate the fruits of general tillage. The soil around their hovels is a stiff clay, through which there can be little natural drainage; the surface-water, left by the rains, is dissolved into an invisible and debilitating vapour, during the warmer weather, and is again condensed into mist at lower temperatures. The latter condition is productive of consumption of the lungs in man, and of the rot in sheep: the former is a constant cause of a low and intractable form of fever. The misfortune of being their own masters falls as heavily upon the moral as it does upon the physical welfare of the cottagers. Wanting themselves the means and intelligence that would be necessary to raise their homes above penury, and unconnected with the execution of works, either of public or private enterprise, which would afford them bread and keep them to steady habits of patient industry, they become desultory and inefficient labourers.

It must be evident to the reader that a general enclosure of this parish, with its consequent cultivation and drainage, would at once increase the amount of food, afford labour, and lessen disease: but the poor inhabitants are unprepared to avail themselves of these advantages. I know them personally, and have tried to win their confidence, but the soil of their minds wants culture equally with their parish lands, and when the enclosure does take place it will be forced upon an unwilling population.

The case, which is a painful one, leads me to an important principle, I mean the necessity of teaching every mind that there can be no private interest apart from public good ;-that the most successful methods of commerce are those which include the largest amount of benefit to society in general;-that, however some few unimportant details may seem to imply the contrary, yet revelation, in the main fact, that as surely as a home, or natural science altogether coincides with Christian society, withdraws itself through selfish, or mistaken, motives from its national commonwealth, it acts in opposition both to natural and moral law, and deprives itself of the fruits of civilization in the largest sense of that word. The case, I think, teaches us to place in the right hand of every man the Word of God, and the book of nature in his left, and to translate both the written and the unwritten revelations of the universe to the heart and

head of every child of reason.

It was the boast of an ancient sage (says Dr. Macculloch) that he had brought philosophy down from heaven to dwell among men, but the separation is a hazardous one; and if it has already been perniciously complete, let it be our endeavour to re-unite what ought never to have been dissevered, and in looking back to the regions whence they have descended, to render science and philosophy the handmaids of religion.

Let us hope, also, with Sir Humphry Davy, that even

THE varying weather of February, destructive as it is to some of the firstlings of the year, as they venture forth prematurely from their winter's sleep, is not sufficient to check the gradual tokens of returning animation throughout the vegetable world. While the garden exhibits its early gift of anemones, hepaticas, &c., the hedgerows, banks, and pastures will not, in ordinary seasons, be sought in vain for a few additional blossoms, to add to those which we have already described as belonging to January; but which are still existing, and braving, in their hardihood, all the vicissitudes of

the season.

The pastur'd mead, or stubble field,
Or garden lightly scann'd, may yield
The first of all its numerous kind,
Procumbent Speedwell. See, inclin'd
On arching stalk, of bright blue dye,
And with a round and pearl-like eye
Distinct, it shows its pendent head!
Pluck, but be cautious lest you shed
The petals of the tender flower;
And shorten thus the little hour
At most allotted it to grace

With transient bloom its native place! Of all the numerous species of Veronica or Speedwell, indigenous to this country, the procumbent speedwell (Veronica agrestis), whose stems lie on the ground, instead of rising erect, is the first to make its appearance. Less interesting than some of the later species, it is nevertheless gladly hailed by the lover of wild flowers, who recognises in it the well-known features of an esteemed family, seldom failing, in some one or other of its members, to cheer the most desolate scenes, and to throw an azure tint over spots that would otherwise be barren and gloomy. Of the different kinds of speedwell, some inhabit the stream, others are found on chalky hills and sandy fields, some establish themselves in marshy ground, while others seek the shade of woodlands, and one species attaches itself to old walls. The Brook-lime (Veronica beccabunga), is frequently eaten as cress. It grows in rivulets, among water-cresses, and is mild and succulent in its nature. The leaves are of a bright green, blunt, slightly serrate, and somewhat fleshy. The flower-buds have a red tint, but when expanded, they resemble in their fine blue colour the Myosotis palustris, or Forget-me-not. Sprigs of brooklime are taken to market in Scotland, and sold under the name of Water purpie.

But we return to notice the "Fair Maid of February," or Snowdrop, which, though not originally indigenous to England, is now spoken of in our botanical works as a native plant. This lovely flower is not noticed in the works of our older herbalists and early poets, nor is it often found, excepting in spots which are known to have been the site of ancient gardens. Gerard calls it the Timely flowering bulbous Violet, and says, "These plants do grow wilde in Italie, and the places adiacent, notwithstanding our London gardens have taken possession of them all, many years past."

The Snowdrop, winter's timid child,

Awakes to life, bedew'd with tears,
And flings around its fragrance mild;
And where no rival flowrets bloom
Amidst the bare and chilling gloom,
A beauteous gem appears.

All weak and wan, with head inclin'd,
Its parent breast the drifted snow,
It trembles while the ruthless wind
Bends its slim form; the tempest lowers,
Its emerald eye drops crystal showers,

On its cold bed below.

The snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis) belongs to the Narcissus tribe, and receives its name of Galanthus from two Greek words, signifying "milk" and "flower," on account of the milky whiteness of the blossom. The corolla is attached to the flower-stalk in so delicate a manner that it moves with the winds in every position, without danger of being snapped asunder, while its drooping posture enables it to throw off all superfluous moisture, and the pure whiteness of its petals causes them to act as reflectors of light and heat to the anthers. This plant grows wild in France, Switzerland, Austria, and Silesia. In this country it is occasionally seen in blossom in January, but more often opens its buds about the middle of February. The author of the Flora Historica gives the following hint respecting the cultivation of this plant, which, as it would, if generally adopted, give the snowdrop more of the character of a wild flower, than it receives from the usual formal arrangement, we insert as not inappropriate here.

The snowdrop appears to greatest advantage when it is seen springing from the grassy banks of an orchard, or the undisturbed turfy rising grounds of the garden; for as it seldom flowers well if removed oftener than every third year, it is not calculated for borders that are annually turned over; but in small gardens it may be planted under shrubs and trees, where it has a good effect if planted in large irregular clumps, for when planted out singly it makes no better appearance than a spot of chalk would do on the earth. În lawns and shrubberies, care should be taken to place these flowers plentifully in the most favourable spots that are seen from the windows of the breakfast room. When planted in the grass lawn they should have the appearance of growing wild, and therefore all formal clumps must be avoided, and they should be scattered as it were by chance, thick in some places, and thinly sprinkled in others, so as to connect the more important clumps into one irregular mass. As grass plots seldom require mowing until the time of the snowdrop's flowering is over, it may in many instances be planted in such sites to great advantage.

The bright and glossy petals of the Celandine or Pilewort (Ranunculus ficaria), are now to be seen here and there, lighting up the banks and hollows with their starry radiance, and reminding us of their relatives, the butter-cups of more advanced days.

See as along the grove you pass,
Thicket, or hedge, or pastur'd grass,
The Vernal Pilewort's globe unfold
Its star-like disk of burnish'd gold;
Star-like in seeming form, from far
It shines too like a glistening star.

This plant belongs to the Crow-foot or Ranunculus tribe, and is therefore allied to the anemones, aconites,' hepaticas, pæonies, globe flowers, larkspurs, &c. of our, gardens. Some of the plants in this tribe are remarkable for their poisonous properties, among which we may mention the true Aconites (Aconitum), and the Christmas Roses (Helleborus), as especially virulent.

Not unworthy of consideration is that very common example of a composite flower, the Dandelion (Leontodon taraxacum). By a composite flower, we mean a number of small flowers or florets (each perfect in itself, and producing its own seed) collected together into one flower-head, and hedged in, as it were, by one common involucre. A vast number of plants partake of this structure, and by becoming well acquainted with it we have the key to the knowledge of a great variety of species. The florets of the dandelion are strap-shaped, and the involucre which protects them has the remark able property of folding together when the flowers fall off, in order to protect the young fruit, and of turning quite back to give more room to the fruit when it is ripen

ing and increasing in size, thus at length allowing of that beautiful globose form in which the ripe dandelion seed is arranged. A similar result is observed in some of the thistles and other plants belonging to the same race. The term Dandelion is a corruption of Dent de Lion, or Lion's tooth. Bishop Mant thus notices the plant:

And there the plant which clothes the ground
With strap-like flowers, a yellow round
Of gold, whose leaves indented show

Of points acute a jagged row,

Thence called, if right I guess the truth,
By Gallick name, "the Lion's tooth,"

With milk obnoxious to the taste.

By culture, and especially by blanching, the dandelion, like the lettuce and endive, can be deprived of a portion of its bitterness, and rendered sufficiently mild to be eaten as a salad. We are told that in France the roots and leaves, thus prepared, are eaten with bread and butter.

The Butcher's Broom (Ruscus aculeatus) generally exhibits at the latter end of February its singular flowers. The plant is small and shrubby, growing on heaths and in barren situations. It is stunted in its appearance, and does not exceed a foot and a half in height. The stalk is roundish, naked about the roots, but branching at the top. The leaves are of a bluish-green colour, short, oval, and prickly. The peculiarity in the plant is, that the small purple flowers grow upon the upper disk of the leaves, which are merely dilated extensions of the stalk. Each flower is succeeded by a red berry the size of a pea.

Mid barren heath the Butcher's Broom

On thorn-tipt leaves its lonely bloom
Infixes, where the central eye,

Swoln to a purple nectary,

Bright 'mid the greenish petals shows,

And dark green leaf, whereon it grows.

That lovely and fragrant shrub the Mezereum, or Spurge Olive (Daphne mezereum), whose garnet coloured blossoms are greeted as welcome harbingers of spring in our gardens, is an indigenous plant, and may be found, though not commonly, growing wild in our woods. In mild seasons it begins to put forth its blossoms at the close of February, and their powerful fragrance causes them to be much prized. Yet underneath a pleasing exterior the mezereum conceals some deadly qualities. The bright red berries which succeed the blossoms are fatal poisons to man, though birds are observed to feed upon them and remain uninjured. Mezereum gives its name to a tribe of plants of similar structure and qualities. The Spurge Laurel (Daphne laureola) is a common evergreen in our shrubberies, and fully partakes of the poisonous qualities of mezereum. Indeed, the acrid properties of all the species are such, that blisters can be raised on the skin, by binding on it a portion of the moistened bark.

On pastures dry or hedge-bank, see
Where creeps the Barren Strawberry,
Alternating its petals white

With radiate points of verdure bright,
Which, meeting in a central neck
Of hairy fringe, its chalice deck.

grass.

The

The Hazel, too, which lately hung
His boughs with barren blossoms, strung
In wavy drops, on pendent rows
Begins his fertile buds disclose,
Unfolding from each scaly bed
Its spreading tuft of crimson red.
Regard it well! Few things invite
More pleasingly the curious sight,
Than those small tufts of crimson: few
More strange, than that, in season due,

Thence, wrapped in bearded husk, should shoot

The nut's hard shell and kernel'd fruit.

EFFECTS OF DIFFERENT TEMPERATURES
ON THE body.

WHEN the air is warm and dry, it excites a most agreea ›le sensation in the lungs, and in every part of the body; it increases the power of function of every organ, and health is perfect; this is observed in a dry spring, after a cold and moist winter; but when the weather is intensely hot, and persons exposed to the burning sun in the tropics, they often drop dead suddenly from apoplexy; this has happened even in France and Spain, during very hot summers; all the functions, as breathing, digestion, &c., are diminished. and oppressed; there is danger of mortification of wounds and ulcers, bowel complaints, fevers, hysteria, epilepsy, &c. Persons labouring under consumption have been advised to live in warm climates, but many physicians suppose that the acceleration of the breathing and pulse, caused by the hot air in summer, only hurries the sufferer to a more speedy death; the change of habitation, from a cold climate to a warm one in winter, is highly advisable, though it is now believed that the southern coasts of this country are as eligible as foreign climes for our consumptive patients. A cold and moist atmosphere produces debilitating effects on man and animals; a cold and dry air is not so injurious; it braces the nerves, and is favourable to health, although it sometimes induces determinations of blood to the head, chest, and abdomen, and causes inflammations in the organs of their cavities- Ten Minutes' Advice on Coughs and Colds.

THE ferry-boats of Someïsat and Birehjik, the great thoroughfares from Syria and Arabia to Mesopotamia, do not possess very high claims for convenience. They resemble a great coalscuttle with a flat bottom, and the stern a little pointed. The steersmen are two in number, for the boat being at once steered and propelled by a long sweep like the tail of a fish, it requires two men to work it, and there are four more in front, occupied, with loud bursts of exclamation, and groans innumerable, in clumsily beating poor Euphrates with two awkward oars. In the interior, camels, horses, sheep, and men are huddled together; and if the passenger, up to his ankles in water, stretches himself to free his foot from the heavy pad of a camel, or the iron pressure of a struggling horse, ten to one he receives a thump from the delicately managed sweep, which he may consider, according to his philosophy, either as a mere practical summons to crouch again, or as an emblem of the evils of life.AINSWORTH'S Researches in Asia Minor.

any

DO FISHES SLEEP? SERIOUSLY, I have often doubted whether cold-blooded animals sleep; or at least whether they are not able to do without it for long-continued periods at will. I have known fishes, very remarkable, and easily recognisable, keep under the stern of a vessel and about her rudder for many days together, while sailing through the ocean; if they had slept during that time, of course the vessel would have left them; and, besides, as there is no shelter in the ocean, without going down to unfathomable depths, I think if the smaller fish were to sleep, all exposed as they must be, they would inevitably fall an unresisting prey to those ravenous tribes which continually watch to devour them.-Gosse.

PHILOSOPHY is for ever entangling itself in nets of its own weaving, because it will not inquire of Him who designed, of the First Cause, and of His purposes.-MACCULLOCH.

THE very force which moves a clock is the Hand of the Deity.-MACCULLOCH.

JOHN W PARKER, PUBLISHER, WEST STRAND, LONDON.