hundred years is a mere trifle, if we consider the fact of an onion germinating, which was found in the hand of a mummy, and was probably from two to three thousand years old."

"One of the most extraordinary instances of the vitality of seeds that I remember to have heard of," said Cyril, "is that of the grains of corn discovered a few years ago, when an Egyptian mummy was unrolled, enclosed with the body. Four of these grains were presented to the Countess of Haddington; and, on being sown in a favourable spot of the garden belonging to the Earl's seat in East Lothian, sprang up, flourished, and yielded an abundant harvest. With what awe and reverence may we not regard this strange revival! and how strongly does it seem to point that noble passage of St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians, in which he bids us look upon the grain which is sown, as the type of our own more glorious resurrection! But the whole history of corn is a mystery. Is it not curious, that no species of corn, such as serves for food to the greater part of mankind, is ever known to grow spontaneously? yet you see the seeds of wheat possess the same vitality as other seeds? The mysterious origin of corn; the fact that it has never been found wild with the same properties which render it good for food, but degenerates, and becomes useless without constant cultivation; and the tradition of all nations, that it has been a gift from their gods, may teach us to look to the Giver of all good things, who sent forth Adam from paradise to till the ground, and made labour, in some way, the lot of all mankind, that industry might turn their punishment into a blessing."

66

66

'You have, indeed, Cyril, touched upon one of the most wonderful facts connected with botanical research," continued his father; "one of those which strikingly lead us back to revelation, where, in the earliest record of the sacred volume, we are told that labour is to be the portion of all the descendants of fallen Adam, and that the ground has been cursed for his sake. When we look round upon the earth clad in the lovely garb of summer, rich in all that delights the eye and captivates the taste, we may be tempted to forget this awful truth; but, when we find that the produce most necessary to us requires constant culture, and that, without the sweat of man's brow unceasingly applied to it, it degenerates, and shortly disappears; then, indeed, we must acknowledge His Almighty hand, who has not left us without witness in the course of His providence ; and for these indications of His wonderful power we must bless Him as well as for the stupendous mercies of our redemption. Such praises are the tithe of mint and cummin which must not be omitted, though He has still stronger claims upon our gratitude and love." "Your remarks," said Mrs. Martha, are quite in unison with some which I found, this morning, in this new book, Nichol's Help to Reading the Bible,' and so very applicable to one passage which struck me greatly, that I must quote it.-Here, luckily, I have found it without difficulty. After referring to various parts of Scripture connected with natural history, he concludes the chapter by saying, The figurative use which the Scriptures thus make of the works of nature, should lead us to view them in the same association. What Paley says of that train of thinking which constantly refers the phenomena of nature to a supreme intelligent Author, applies with more force to that train of thinking, by which, from the works of nature we are reminded of some great revealed truth. To have made this the ruling, the habitual sentiment of our minds, is to have laid the foundation of everything religious in our mind. The world, thenceforth, becomes a temple, and life itself one continued act of adoration." "It is quite true," remarked Mr. Barlow, "that no one branch of knowledge can be isolated and studied alone. There is a unison and harmony throughout the works both of nature and of moral providence, which leads from one to another, and makes each

reflect upon each. Even our evening conversations upon flowers cannot be carried on without perpetual digressions, and the examination of a weed may carry us into the regions of mechanism, chemistry, poetry, or history." "History?"

"Yes, history," said Mrs. Loraine; "and, as a proof, here is a floral charade into which Mr. Hamilton has contrived to bring points of English history, which will, I think, help you all to guess it."

"Oh! mamma," exclaimed Agnes, "do tell me how many charades you have left: I do so long to know how many, that I may be able to hope, at least, that James will be here before my birthday."

"I had a peep at the stock this morning, Agnes," said Charles," and can tell you, for your comfort, it is very low; besides, I stole one, if you think lessening their number will hasten the time of his arrival." "Stole one! Oh, Charles! what did you do that for?"

"I stole one for the purpose of presenting it to Justine; but I do not intend to give it to her to-night, though I see she is dying with curiosity to hear it. No, no, Justine; you must be contented with my mother's selection, until a proper opportunity occurs of making you the receiver of stolen goods; so listen attentively, if you please, whilst I read this. Hem! hem!

Long years have fled, and carried in their train
The conqueror and conquered, since my First
Gleamed as a standard on the battle-plain,

And o'er this island as a war-cry burst;

When the young hearts that at one knee were nursed, And in one garland had its fair buds twined,

Severed by faction's deadly rage accursed,
Where the full flower was waving on the wind,
Rushed madly each on each, by party hatred blind.

But civil discord ceased-rejoicing came

Peace, to unite in one each rival race, And bear it onward, till my Second's name

A queen enthroned bore--and who may trace The working of her mind ?--In that high place She ruled with bigot zeal-her heart sincere,

But all untempered by love's gentle grace; Doomed to the flames martyrs we still revere: And bade our meek religion sway the world by fear. She ruled, but God o'erruled-for light appeared And 'spread its genial influence o'er the isle, Where many a mess-grown tower and spire upreared, Glowed with an added beauty 'neath its smile. Low grassy hillocks lie around each pile, Where rest in hope those who have bent the knee, And bowed the heart within the solemn aisle: Planted with duteous hands, there oft we see My Whole bloom o'er the grave, type of fond memory."

"AMONG this pouer folk ther dwelt a man,
Which that was holden pourest of them all:
But highe God somtime senden can
His grace unto a litel oxes stall:
Janicola men of that thorpe him call.
A doughter had he, faire ynough to sight,
And Grisildis this yonge maiden hight.

But for to speke of vertuous beautee,
Than was she on the fairest under sonne :
Ful pourely yfostred up was she:
No likerous lust was in hire herte yronne:
Wel after of the well than of the tonne
She dranke, and for she wolde vertue plese,
She knew wel labour, but now idel ese.

Upon Grisildis, this poure creature, Ful often sithe this Markis sette his eye, As he on hunting rode paraventure: And whan it fell that he might hire espie, He not with wanton loking of folie

VOL. III.

His eyen cast on hire, but in sad wise
Upon hire chere he wold him oft avise,
Commending in his herte hire womanhede;
And eke hire vertue, passing any wight
Of so yong age, as wel in chere as dede.
For though the people have no gret insight
In vertue, he considered ful right
Hire bountee, and disposed that he wold
Wedde hire only, if ever he wedden shold.
This thoughtful Markis spake unto this maid
Ful soberly, and said in this manere:
Wher is your fader, Grisildis? he said.
And she with reverence in humble chere
Answered, lord, he is al redy here.
And in she goth withouten lenger lette,
And to the Markis she hire fader fette.

He by the hond than toke this poure man,
And saide thus, whan he him had aside:
Janicola, I neither may ne can

taken into the stomach is preceded by nervous and vascular excitement, which in many diseases would not only be objectionable, but even fatal to the patient. We are by no means sure, however, that the vapour of alcohol, if inhaled, would not be as efficacious as that of ether in making a person "dead drunk," and leaving him with as little ill effect. The chemical characters of alcohol and ether are in many respects sufficiently distinct, but they have also many points of resemblance, and are, in fact, members of a highly interesting group which has for its base a substance called Ethyle, which has never yet been obtained in a separate form, but which is known to consist of four atoms of carbon, and five atoms of hydrogen. By the addition of one atom of oxygen we get oxide of ethyle, or common ether, also called sulphuric ether, because it is obtained by the action of sulphuric acid upon alcohol, but improperly so, since no sulphur enters into the composition of ether. By combining chemically an atom of water with ether, we get alcohol, which in chemical language is the hydrate of the oxide of ethyle. The ether compounds form a numerous family, but only two or three of them are used in medicine; one is the common ether already mentioned; a second is chloric ether, consisting of an atom of chlorine united to ethyle, and called chloride of ethyle; a third is nitric ether, formed by the union of nitric acid with the oxide of ethyle.

The physical properties of common ether are as follows:-It is a colourless, transparent, fragrant, thin, mobile liquid; it boils at 96° (while water boils at 2120); it passes off rapidly in the form of vapour, and, although so volatile, its vapour is more than two and a half times heavier than its own bulk of air, and can, in fact, be poured from one glass into another, like water. Mingled with oxygen gas, this vapour explodes violently on the application of flame or the electric spark. Ether is very combustible, and burns with a white flame. It freezes at low temperatures, and it mixes freely with alcohol, but not with water.

Alcohol is also a colourless, transparent, limpid liquid. It has a fragrant agreeable taste and odour; it boils at 173°; it is not so volatile as ether, but its vapour is heavier than the air; it is very inflammable, and burns with a pale bluish flame. Alcohol has never been frozen by any degree of cold yet produced. It absorbs moisture from the air, and mixes with water in all proportions; if the mixture be made suddenly, a contraction and consequent rise in temperature takes place. Both ether and alcohol have solvent powers, but those of alcohol are greatest.

The explosive property of ether, when mingled with oxygen, either in the pure state, or with nitrogen, as it exists in the atmosphere, requires the exercise of caution in administering the vapour. The moment a bottle of ether is uncorked it discharges torrents of invisible vapour, which pour down to the floor, mingling with the atmosphere of the apartment, and are in danger of being exploded by the flame of a lamp or candle. If an explosion should unhappily reach the air which the patient is inhaling, the consequences might be awful; communicating with the air in the interior of his chest, some of the most essential organs of life would be torn and destroyed, and a painful death terminate a humane experiment to prolong life.

Thus it will be seen how very important it is to confine the use of this important remedial agent to the hands of well qualified professional men; not only on account of the danger of an explosion, but from the state of the patient intended to be operated on. Where there is a tendency to apoplexy or discase of the heart, the use of the ethereal vapour might be highly objectionable, and it is for the medical man alone to decide upon such cases of exclusion. Again, we are strongly impressed with the idea, that in numerous cases the vapour of ether may be used simply as an anodyne, as a soother of pain, without any reference to an operation, but to take the place of narcotics, and give rest and refreshment with

out the objectionable results produced by the frequent use of narcotics. There are other cases in which the use of ether may be of immense benefit, which cannot be mentioned in this journal; but in them, as in all other cases where it is administered, competent medical advice must first be sought, and no attempts made to inhale it without proper medical superintendence.

Now, as to the method of administering the vapour, we will first quote the remarks of Mr. William Herepath, of Bristol, on a case witnessed by him of the amputation of the leg of a young man. He says:-"No complicated apparatus is necessary, nor any extraordinary care in purifying the ether. A common, but very large, bladder should be fitted with a collar, to which an ivory mouth-piece with a large bore can be screwed without the intervention of any stop-cock: pour in about an ounce of good common ether, and blow up the bladder with the mouth till it is nearly full; place the thumb on the mouth-picce, and agitate the bladder so as to saturate the air in it with the vapour; as soon as the patient is ready for the operation, close his nostrils, introduce the mouth-piece, and close the lips. round it with the fingers. He must now breathe into and out of the bladder; and in about one or two minutes the muscles of his lips will lose their hold. This is the moment for the first cut to be made. In two or three minutes the effect will begin to disappear; the mouthpiece should be again introduced, and this repeated as often as required. If the pulse should indicate a sinking of the patient, a little wine will restore him. * * * The administrator of the vapour will of course take great care that no fluid ether shall be allowed to be drawn into the lungs; otherwise suffocation would result, or at the best a violent cough, which must protract the operation and considerably distress the patient."

The apparatus described by Mr. Herepath is such as is commonly used for inhaling laughing gas: it has the merit of being simple, but there is little else to recommend it in administering the vapour of ether. It affords no method for regulating the supply of the vapour, because a volume of air saturated therewith at 40° would contain less than half the quantity of vapour in a similar volume of air at 70°. Many forms of apparatus have been already contrived, and, as we believe, patented; but one of the best which we have seen is that recently described by Dr. Snow, at the Westminster Medical Society. It consists of a round tin box, two inches deep, and four or five inches in diameter, with a tube of flexible white metal, half an inch in diameter, and about a foot and a half long, coiled round and soldered to it: this is for the purpose of admitting air into the box. There is also an opening in the top of the vessel, to which may be screwed a flexible tube connected with a mouth-piece. Within the box is a spiral plate of tinned iron soldered to the top, and nearly touching the bottom. The inhaler is put into a basin of water, mixed to a particular temperature, so as to supply the proportion of vapour intended to be given. When the patient begins to inhale, the air, in passing along the tube coiled round the box, acquires the proper temperature; it then enters the box, and passing over the surface of the ether, proceeds along the spiral channel, to the centre opening, whence it passes along the tube to the mouth of the patient. By this means the air is saturated with vapour, and maintained at the proper temperature. In this apparatus there is no valve or other obstruction to the air, until it has reached the mouthpiece, which is provided with valves to prevent the return of the expired air into the apparatus. temperature of 70° the ether effects were powerfully produced upon a patient in thirty seconds.

At a

Several medical men have very properly tried the effects of the vapour upon themselves before administering it to their patients. The most lucid description of the effects of the inhalation, which we have seen, is that by Mr. Gerdy, in a communication made to the Academy of Sciences at Paris. He says; "The irri

tation which I felt at first in the throat made me cough, but, being resolved to resist, I soon triumphed over this little obstacle; the irritation and cough gave way as the inhalation continued. I next experienced a numbness of the head, attended with heat, as if the vapour of alcoholic and intoxicating liquor was mounting to the brain. This numbness extended itself rapidly, first to the feet, and then to the legs and arms, and next to the loins, and increased rapidly with each inspiration. In the sensitive organs it was attended with an agreeable sensation of heat and of vibration similar to that which we experience in touching a vibrating body. When these two sensations reached their maximum, I experienced an impression, both agreeable and voluptuous, like that of intoxication. It is the numbness of which I speak that diminishes the pain in operations. My sight was not sensibly benumbed; the hearing was more so, and it became more and more feeble as the intoxication increased. I convinced myself, however, that the smell, the taste, and the touch, properly speaking, were not paralyzed by the general numbness which came over me; but my eyelids became heavy, and I felt a desire to give myself up to the charms of my intoxication."

In a few cases which have been reported the ether vapour has failed to produce the desired effect, and has only distressed the patient; but it must be remembered that in these cases the mode of administering the vapour was by very rude and imperfect apparatus; so that we have yet to see whether, in such cases, successful results may not ensue from the judicious administration of air of the proper temperature, saturated with the vapour, and given under circumstances in which the comfort and convenience of the patient are consulted. From the novelty of the plan, fear may in some cases prevent the vapour from acting properly: thus, from many causes, failures in administering the vapour, as well as exceptional cases where it would be wrong to attempt to adminster it, will of course occur; but considering how trifling are such exceptions, as compared with the vast amount of unalloyed good that this discovery seems capable of producing, we are not disposed to think the praise excessive, which ranks this as the most important discovery which has been contributed to medicine since that of vaccination by Dr. Jenner.

THE MERCHANT.'

CHAP. VIII.

THE merchant's first visit to the Grange was a very short one, but he promised that it should soon be repeated. His departure was followed by the arrival of a box of Indian treasures which he had promised to Mrs. Markham; but there were not, as there used to be, many things marked with Juliet's name, only a very beautiful and costly gold chain. An accompanying letter acquainted Mrs. Markham that Neville had chosen for Juliet a harp, and some drawings which her pencil might be worthily engaged in copying. Juliet saw that her father and mother were gratified. She sighed, and thought that Neville was very generous, more than she felt that he was very kind. She was averse to the occupation with which he had provided her; nevertheless, when once engaged, as she felt contrained to be, she derived a pleasure from them which won her from herself. She had never touched so fine an instrument before; never looked on any representations of nature so excellent as those which Neville had selected for her. She often thought of him, and went with pleasure to tell Hester that he was coming again, and for a much longer time than before. The old

(1) Concluded from page 309.

woman rejoiced, and detained Juliet to tell her tales of the past. She ended:

"Ah, Miss Juliet! the tears stood in his eyes when he spoke to me of your likeness to her that is gone. And you look more like yourself, and more like her as he knew her, than you did when he came. Now you must do all you can to cheer him; indeed you must." Well, so we will, all of us, and Marion too, and it will do him good to hear her laugh."

"No, Miss Juliet, it will do him more good to see you smile."

Juliet thought of these words as she went away, and she felt touched by the tender consideration in which it was evident that Neville held her.

Neville came, and he was rejoiced to see that Juliet met him with a countenance more animated, and a step less listless. He also perceived that the gold chain which the box had contained hung round her neck. "Let us take our friend to see Mr. Villiers and his sister, Juliet," said her father, the day after Neville's arrival. Oh, yes," replied Juliet with alacrity, "let us take him to Miss Villiers without delay. Indeed I promised to do so as soon as he returned. I have shown her all the beautiful drawings you have sent me, and have inspired her with a wish to make acquaintance with you." "And Mr. Villiers?" said Neville.

"He is more silent, less clever than his sister; not less good. His countenance tells you how benevolent he is, but in society he speaks little on ordinary topics. I like better to meet him in a cottage or the school; his voice and his smile when he is with children are so gentle and so affectionate."

"Pray do not engage Juliet in the praises of her friends, if you wish to see them to-day," cried Mr. Markham, and they set out to the rectory.

Miss Villiers received her visitors with a courtesy of manner peculiarly her own. She possessed quick perception of character, and had a readiness in adapting herself to the tastes and habits of others, which caused every one, however much they differed from each other, to find time pass easily and delightfully in her society. The constancy and severity of her sufferings had never rendered her selfish, nor taught her to believe that the feelings and convenience of others must be without hesitation sacrificed to her own. On the contrary, every trifling instance of accommodation to her, and of sympathy for her, she received, not as a right, but as a favour.

Juliet had never yet seen Neville to such advantage as on this occasion; he was perfectly at his ease. With her he was often harassed by contending feelings; with Miss Villiers he readily followed in the track on which she led him, and conversed with her with remarkable judgment, knowledge, and taste, on subjects to which he had given previous thought. At length the two gentlemen rose to depart, for Mr. Villiers was not expected home. Juliet, much as she had enjoyed Neville's conan affectionate smile, her friend acquiesced in her desire, versation, proposed to remain with Miss Villiers. With and, as soon as they were alone, she said—

My dear, what a very charming person your friend has proved; I had no idea you would bring me any one so handsome and so accomplished. It must be very delightful to spend days in his society, as you do, and it ought to be very improving, too, Juliet. I hope you will persuade him to come and see me again."

Juliet felt surprised that she had not made these observations for herself, for she acknowledged their truth, and that they proceeded from Miss Villiers's mouth, gave them great additional weight. Juliet had previously told her of the circumstances which had connected Neville with their family, and they now recurred to that theme, with an interest diminished in neither by their intercourse with him.

"I see that he regards you with peculiar affection," said Miss Villiers. "I could hear the very tone of his voice alter when he spoke to you. You see, my dear, neither my eyes nor hearing are grown very dull yet."