Chapter XIII: Appendix: Great Precedence Question 287 (12)

Mr. Earle discusses the legend which connects St. Swithun with _forty days of rain_, and decides that it is wholly without foundation. Mr. Howard, the meteorologist, many years since, by his observations, gave a sort of currency to this notion; but it has since received its quietus in the following facts, from the Greenwich observations for 20 years:--It appears that St. Swithun’s day was wet in 1841, and there were 23 rainy days up to the 24th of August; 1845, 26 rainy days; 1851, 13 rainy days; 1853, 18 rainy days; 1854, 16 rainy days; and in 1856, 14 rainy days. In 1842 and following years St. Swithun’s day was dry, and the result was, in 1842, 12 rainy days; in 1843, 22 rainy days; 1844, 20 rainy days; 1846, 21 rainy days; 1847, 17 rainy days; 1848, 31 rainy days; 1849, 20 rainy days; 1850, 17 rainy days; 1852, 19 rainy days; 1855, 18 rainy days; 1857, 14 rainy days; 1858, 14 rainy days; 1859, 13 rainy days; and in 1860, 29 rainy days. These figures show the superstition to be founded on a fallacy, as the average of 20 years proves rain to have fallen upon the largest number of days when St. Swithun’s day was dry.

No event, or natural phenomenon which could be construed into such, is alluded to by any of the various authors who wrote histories of St. Swithun. On the contrary, the weather seems to have been most propitious during his translation. How then did the popular notion about St. Swithun’s Day arise? Most probably, as Mr. Earle remarks, it was derived from primeval pagan belief regarding the meteorologically prophetic character of some day about the same period of the year as St. Swithun’s. Such adaptations, it is well known, were frequent on the supplanting throughout Europe of heathenism by Christianity. In confirmation of this view it is to be observed, that in various countries of the European continent, the same belief prevails, though differences exist as to the period of the particular day in question. Thus, in France, St. Médard’s Day, (June 8,) and the Day of St. Gervais and Protais, (June 19,) have a similar character ascribed to them. In Belgium they have a rainy saint, named St. Godeliève; whilst in Germany, among others, a character of this description is ascribed to the day of the Seven Sleepers.

_Rainfall in London._

Mr. G. V. Vernon has communicated to the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester a Paper on the number of Days on which Rain falls annually in London, from observations made during the fifty-six years, 1807-1862. Howard’s _Climate of London_ has been used for the years 1807 to 1831; the _Philosophical Transactions_ for the years 1832 to 1840; and the _Greenwich Observations_ for the years 1841 to 1862. During the entire period of fifty-six years, no month occurred in which rain did not fall.

The minimum number of days occurred in 1832, the cholera year, and 1834; the number of days being 86, 82 respectively. The maximum number occurred in 1848, the number being 223 days.

Taking the quarterly values, we find that rain falls on the greatest number of days in autumn, and the least in spring.

Taking the means of five yearly periods, there appears to be a kind of periodicity in the number of days on which rain falls; having a maximum in 1815 to 1817, and a minimum in 1845 to 1847.

_The Force of Lightning._

A person may be killed by Lightning, although the explosion takes place at the distance of twenty miles, by what is called the back-stroke. Suppose that the two extremities of a cloud, highly charged with electricity, hang down towards the earth, they will repel the electricity from the earth’s surface, if it be of the same kind with their own, and will attract the other kind; and if a discharge should suddenly take place at one end of the cloud, the equilibrium will instantly be restored by a flash at that point of the earth which is under the other. Though the back-stroke is often sufficiently powerful to destroy life, it is never so terrible in its effects as the direct shot, which is frequently of inconceivable intensity. Instances have occurred in which large masses of iron and stone, and even many feet of a stone wall, have been conveyed to a considerable distance by a stroke of lightning. Rocks and the tops of mountains often bear the marks of fusion from its action, and occasionally vitreous tubes, descending many feet into banks of sand, mark the path of the electric fluid. Some years ago, Dr. Fielder exhibited several of these fulgorites in London, of considerable length, which had been dug out of the sandy plains of Silesia and Eastern Prussia. One found at Paderborn was forty feet long. Their ramifications generally terminate in pools or springs of water below the sand, which are supposed to determine the course of the electric fluid. No doubt the soil and substrata must influence its direction, since it is found by experience that places which have been struck by lightning are often struck again. A school-house in Lammer-Muir, in East Lothian, has been struck three different times.--Mrs. Somerville’s _Connexion of the Sciences_.

The inquiries into the chances of refuge from lightning have been attended with saving results. Here is an instance:

A few years since an awful thunderstorm occurred in the
neighbourhood of Inkpen, Berkshire. Three men, named Martin,
Buxey, and Palmer, were employed in mowing grass, when a storm
of thunder and lightning broke over the field, and one of them
suggested that they should run beneath a tree; Martin knowing
that trees generally attract lightning, immediately remarked,
“We had better go anywhere than under a tree.” Buxey and Palmer,
however, as the storm was severe, and the hail was falling
heavily at the time, ran and seated themselves beneath a large
lime-tree, but Martin walked off to a cottage, and was safely
sheltered. In about half-an-hour after the storm had abated, both
Buxey and Palmer were found lying on the grass beneath the tree,
quite dead from the lightning. The clothes of Buxey were found
to be on fire, and the hair of Palmer was much scorched.

_Effect of Moonlight on Vegetation._

It has been demonstrated that Moonlight has the power, _per se_, of awakening the Sensitive Plant, and consequently that it possesses an influence of some kind on Vegetation. It is true that the influence is very feeble, compared with that of the sun; but the action is established, and the question remains, what is the practical value of the fact? “It will immediately,” says Professor Lindley, “occur to the reader that possibly the screens which are drawn down over hothouses at night, to prevent loss of heat by radiation, may produce some unappreciated injury by cutting off the rays of the moon, which Nature intended to fall upon plants as much as the rays of the sun.”

Even artificial light is not wholly powerless. Decandolle succeeded in making crocuses expand by lamplight; and Dr. Winn, of Truro, has suggested that the oxyhydrogen lamp may be made subservient to horticulture in the dark days of winter.

An extraordinary effect of Moonlight upon the human subject occured in 1863. A boy, thirteen years of age, residing near Peckham Rye, was expelled his home by his mother for disobedience. He ran away to a corn-field close by, and on lying down in the open air, fell asleep. He slept throughout the night, which was a moonlight one. Some labourers on their way to work, next morning, seeing the boy apparently asleep, aroused him; the lad opened his eyes, but declared he could not see. He was conveyed home, and medical advice was obtained: the surgeon affirmed that the total loss of sight resulted from sleeping in the moonlight.

_Contemporary Inventions and Discoveries._

Mr. Piesse, the well-known operative chemist, has thus popularly grouped some of the leading novelties of our age:

The inventions and discoveries of my time may truly be included
among some of the greatest and most wonderful which the world
has seen. I have not yet passed forty summers, but perfectly
recollect being one of the gaping crowd that first witnessed
lighting the streets with gas. Near to the Marble Arch, at the
top of Oxford-street, London, stands an iron post, on which is
inscribed “Here stood Tyburn Gate, 1829.” Now I well remember
this Oxford-street turnpike, and the oil-lamps ‘dimly burning,’
which enabled the University coach and the eight-horse waggons to
nearside the off-side gatepost; at that time all Oxford-street
and the shops therein protested against ‘the light of other
days,’ and became illumined with Murdoch’s gas: thus the
oil-lamps passed away for ever. Tunneling Primrose Hill for the
first railway into London was a fund of enjoyment to me; there I
learned my first practical lesson in mineralogy--to distinguish
iron pyrites from real gold nuggets, which it at times resembles.
One morning the newspapers teemed with an account of the late
Duke of Wellington witnessing the first electric telegram from
Drayton, twelve miles from London. People flocked to Paddington,
and paid a shilling to do the same; of course I was among them!
It appears to me but the other day when every housewife kept her
linen rags to make tinder. The bunch of matches, like a large
fan, the flint and steel were in every house. What a change
has the lucifer produced? After hearing Professor Brande one
night deliver a popular lecture at the Royal Institution, the
Secretary read a letter received that day from Paris, announcing
the discoveries of Daguerre. The assertion that the picture of
a camera could be fixed by the mere agency of light startled
belief, yet from that hour photography took its rise. Strange
discoveries now crowd upon the memory. The oxyhydrogen flame
that burns the diamond and volatilizes platinum; then came the
Drummond lime-light that is visible as a star sixty miles away;
now followed Dobereiner’s lamp that ignites itself when you lift
a latch. Electroplating becomes one of the arts of the country.
A new force of nature, actinism, was recognised. Wonderfully
active principles of plants--quinine, morphia, and strychnine,
are discovered. The food of plants and the balance of organic
nature are developed at Giessen. New metals are discovered and
are practically eliminated for the use of manufacturers; and so
we thus come to the present, when I now write with an aluminium
pen made from tiles laid in a wall when Constantine was crowned
at York.[18]

_The Bayonet._

Mr. Akermann, in an elaborate series of “Notes on the Origin and History of the Bayonet,” has been unable to verify the statement that this weapon derives its name from Bayonne, the reputed place of its invention. Voltaire alludes to it in the eighth book of the _Henriade_. The results of the inquiry may be thus briefly recited:--That “bayonette” was the name of a knife, which may probably have been so designated either from its having been the peculiar weapon of a crossbow-man, or from the individual who first adopted it; that its first recorded use as a weapon of war occurs in the Memoirs of Puysegur, and may be referred to the year 1647; that it is first mentioned in England by Sir J. Turner, 1670-71; that it was introduced into the English army in the first half of the year 1672; that before the peace of Nimwegen Puysegur had seen troops on the Continent armed with bayonets, furnished with rings, which would go over the muzzles of the muskets; that in 1686 the device of the socket-bayonet was tested before the French king, and failed; that in 1689 Mackay, by the adoption of the ringed bayonet, successfully opposed the Highlanders at the battle of Killicrankie; lastly, that the bayonet with the socket was in general use in the year 1703.

William Cobbett, who had been a soldier, and carried the bayonet, used to call it “King George’s Toasting-fork.”

_Derivation of the word Loot._

This word, which so often occurs in the account of the late Indian war, is simply the Hindustani for plunder. Noun, “loot,” plunder; verb, “lootna,” to plunder. This is one of the many examples of Hindustani words generally used in English conversation in India, which gradually came into use at home, amongst the oldest and most familiar of which is, perhaps, the slang term “that’s the cheez,” for “that’s the thing,” “cheez” Hindustani for “thing.”

_Telegram._

When this Indian term was first applied to our telegraphic messages, a considerable amount of learned disquisition was wasted in seeking its origin. Any one who has been in India must remember the curious pronunciation by natives of many English proper names, as well as of other words, for which they have no translation in Hindustani; generally abbreviating a long difficult expression, and sometimes even changing altogether the pronunciation. On the introduction of the telegraph into India, there being no Hindustani word, the natives were obliged to attempt English, and the easiest way they could manage to pronounce telegraphic message was “telegram.” This being an easy abbreviation was at once picked up and adopted by the English in India, and then came home in the same way that we got “loot” from India, and now again from China.--_Correspondent of the “Daily News.”_

_Archæology and Manufactures._

Archæology, far from being a mere unprofitable dilettantism, has a positive money-value, one appreciable not only by the literary or scientific mind, but even by those who look exclusively to material interests--that commerce, in fine, no less than history or art, is under obligations to archæology. In the case of our pottery and earthenware manufacture,--now an important branch of our national trade--at the time when Wedgwood first began his operations, England was an importing country with regard to this article of trade, drawing her supplies from Holland, France, and Germany. About the year 1760, Wedgwood established himself in Staffordshire. The models which he selected for imitation were taken from the antique:--from the Portland Vase, Greek vases, cameos, and old coins,--but, above all, from the magnificent collection of Etruscan vases and earthenware, which was purchased about that time from Sir William Hamilton, for the British Museum. Such was the immediate improvement in classical elegance and purity of design, which the manufactures derived from these sources, that within very few years England became an exporting country in this article; and the trade was steadily developed, until, in the year 1857, the declared value of her exports nearly reached a million and a half of money. Wedgwood’s own sense of his obligation to ancient models was marked by the name he gave to the new village formed around his works in Staffordshire, which he called Etruria, in honour of them. More recently the collection of Etruscan antiquities made by the Prince of Canino, and brought to England by Signor Campanari, has marked another stage of progress in this branch of industry; and, at this moment, the best silversmiths and jewellers in London resort to the British Museum, to study these models, and copy them for reproduction. Much of the well-known Minton-ware is either copied from, or due to the study and imitation of, the Majolica ware of Mediæval Italy; whilst the smaller objects of Assyrian art, brought from Nineveh by Mr. Layard, are extensively copied by artists, and reductions of them made in Parian, in marble, or in bronze.--_Address to the Cambrian Archæological Association, by Mr. C. G. Wynne, M.P._

_Good Art should be cheap._

There is no hope of the diffusion of a better taste till all classes of society are familiarized with the best works of the best artists; and English manufactures will never be generally improved in design till the purchasers as well as the producers know how to appreciate what is beautiful, and till a better intuitive taste prevails in the cottage as well as in the mansion. So long as it is _cheaper_ to reproduce familiar shapes and ornaments, so long will it be vain to expect sufficient encouragement for improvements in design. Theorists may preach for ever as to abstract beauty, but _the public will buy the old-fashioned, tasteless goods, if they cost less_.

We do not believe that a beautiful thing need be more expensive than an ugly thing. At any rate, this is the lesson to impress upon such of our manufacturers as may be disposed to join the art-movement of the day. It is not enough to design a novelty in really good taste--it must be at least as cheap as the monstrosity which it is meant to supersede, and, if possible, cheaper. Is it not worth while to inquire whether there may not be some deeper reason than a supposed depraved taste for the hideous colouring, so dubious and sombre, of our Manchester goods, for example? To take an instance: we believe that Hoyle’s Prints, famous throughout the world for their slates and lilacs, are dyed of those most unpicturesque hues for no other reason than that they are the most “fast” colours that can be produced. If our chemists could discover the secret of making the primitive colours equally “fast,” and if the needful pigments were no dearer, we believe that cotton printing would be revolutionized. But, meanwhile, customers in every market of the world will ask for Hoyle’s Fast Prints, in preference to the brightest and most beautiful colours, which, however charming to the eye when bran-new, would disappear in the first wash.--_Saturday Review._

_Imitative Jewellery._

From the profuse display of what are designated “gold chains” in the windows of jewellers’ shops, there is evidently a large demand for these articles, although the purchasers are little aware of the value of the articles. The gold coin of the realm is, in technical language, 22 carats fine--that is, it consists of 22 parts by weight of fine, or pure gold, and 2 parts by weight of copper; and gold plate, &c., is 18 carats fine--that is, it contains 18 parts by weight of gold and 6 of copper in the 24. The alloy of which a large proportion of gold chains is made contains only 8 or 10 parts by weight of fine gold in the 24 parts, the remaining 16 or 14 parts being common brass. The application of brass for this purpose is of comparatively recent date, and enables the manufacturer to adulterate gold to a much greater extent than is practicable with copper alone. This depends upon the fact that brass resembles gold in colour, and copper does not. The brassy gold chains in question are far inferior in colour to chains made of gold of 18 or 22 carats fine, and they would hardly be tolerated by many persons when seen side by side with those of the latter description. They are now manufactured on a very large scale by the aid of machinery, and so great has been the decrease in their cost of production, that the value of the labour upon certain kinds of chains has been reduced from 30s. to 3s. 6d., or even less. It is usual to deposit upon the finished chain an exceedingly thin coating of pure gold by the electrotype process. This, of course, is speedily worn off by friction, and consequently the original fine colour of the chain at the time of purchase disappears. The propriety of this practice is questionable. If the public like cheap brassy gold chains, and are satisfied with their appearance, it is their own affair, and no one has a right to say a word; but, in buying such articles, beware of the small value of the materials in comparison with gold.[19]

_French Enamel._

Among the artistic triumphs in the International Exhibition of 1862 was the magnificent work in gold and enamel, by M. Payen, which is stated to have cost him several years’ labour, or the sum of 6000_l._ In this work the late Prince Consort evinced considerable interest when he was in Paris; and it was mainly to the Prince’s kind interference on behalf of M. Payen, that the Great Seal of England was sent to Paris, in order that it might be copied as one of the great seals of the different nations, which form the border of the work. The subject of the allegory is the Reward of Genius and Industry: this is shown on a large centre-piece on a ground of blue enamel; and the border, in which the seals of different countries are emblazoned, is formed of filigree work in gold. There was besides in the Exhibition an immense variety of works by M. Payen, including gold rings from three francs to three thousand francs each.

FOOTNOTES:

[14] There are two distinct theories respecting the formation of coal, though all agree that it is of vegetable origin. This is proved by the trees and plants found in the substance of coal, by the vegetable remains imbedded in the accompanying strata, and by microscopical examination. The plants most abundant are ferns, some of which were of gigantic size. These are supposed to have composed two-thirds of the mass of most coal. Large trees are sometimes discovered growing upright in the shale that lies beneath and above a seam of coal. The vegetation from which coal has been formed, according to the views of some geologists, grew on the places where it is found, and they consider it to have been composed of decayed beds of peat which grew in succession one over the other, and that by the compression of the whole, when submerged, and by the accompanying action of heat, these vegetable beds were converted into coal. Other geologists imagine that it was produced by the accumulation of drift wood brought down by great rivers, similar to the present accumulation of drift wood on the coast of Mexico brought down by the great American rivers. There are geological facts adduced in support of both theories. Ireland presents the remarkable geological feature of an immense area of carboniferous rocks without coal, that valuable portion of the deposit having, it is supposed, been swept away by some of the denudations to which the surface of the globe has been exposed in the early periods of its history.--_Prof. Morris._

[15] This and the other abstracts in the present section by Prof. George Wilson, are from a valuable paper by that able writer, on the Physical Sciences which form the Basis of Technology.

[16] Described and illustrated in _Things not generally Known_. First Series.

[17] Herschel’s _Outlines of Astronomy_.

[18] What would the old Scotchman of the following anecdote say to such an age?--Sir Alexander Ramsay had been constructing upon his estate in Scotland, a piece of machinery, which was driven by a stream of water running through the home farm-yard. There were a thrashing machine, a winnowing machine, a circular saw for splitting trees, and other contrivances. Observing an old man, who had long been about the place, looking very attentively at all that was going on, Sir Alexander said, “Wonderful things people can do now, Robby?” “Ay,” said Robby, “indud, Sir Alexander; I’m thinking if Solomon was alive now, he’d be thought naething o’!”--_Dean Ramsay._

[19] In a book published in 1679, we find these cautions on Gold and Silver Wares:--“Can you imagine that although the buyer perceive not the deceit at first, when the work is newly sold and cunningly set off with all your skill, that he will not perceive it in the wearing like brass or copper, and when sold again be allowed but 3s. or 3s. 6d. the ounce for the silver, and but 2_l._ 10s. or 3_l._ the ounce for the gold, when he paid 5s. the ounce for the silver, and 4_l._ the ounce for the gold, besides the fashion? You may be sure he will not only repent the dealing with you, but publicly say you are a very cheating knave; and say also, ‘Who would buy such sort of works, wherein is so much deceit, but rather use any other thing instead thereof?’ And thus the people are discouraged to buy your works, and your trade decays, while you vainly think to treble your profit, but instead thereof lose your trade. When otherwise, if your gold and silver works be of standard goodness, your customers will say, ’Tis as good as money in their pockets, weight for weight; and that they know what they paid for the fashion, which is all the loss they shall be at, and the work wears creditable; and they will not repent of their bargain, but publicly commend it, whereby others will be encouraged to buy such works, and so your trade increases.”

Life and Health.

_Periods and Conditions of Life._

Physiologists divide Human Life into four periods, the embryonic, immature, reproductive, and sterile ages: the first terminating at birth; the second at puberty, which is achieved at 15; the third at 45, after which few mothers have children; and the last at 100 and upwards.

Individual life exists on such conditions that it may at any moment cease; and the vital tenure varies not only with every change of external circumstances, but by natural laws at every year of age. It is most insecure in infancy and old age. At the age of puberty--before the period when the growth of the body is most rapid--before the age of its greatest strength--before the age of greatest intellectual power--it is less assailable by death. The chance of living through a given year increases from birth to the age of 14 or 15; it decreases to the age of 55-8 at a slightly accelerating rate; after which the vitality declines at a much more rapid rate.

_Age of the People._

It is worthy of remark that the very aged have not in the ten years [1851-1861] increased in near the same proportion as the general population. In 1851 there were in England 107,041 persons who had passed the limit of “14 years;” in 1861 the number had only increased to 113,250. In 1851 215 persons were returned as being above 100 years old, but only 201 persons in 1861--one in every 100,000. Of this last number 146 were women, and but 55 men--nearly three women to one man. Only 26 had never been married. About a third were found living in large towns--21 in London, 11 in Liverpool, five in Manchester, one in Birmingham, four in Bristol, one in Leeds. As in 1851, so in 1861, these very aged persons were not found so often in the midland districts of the kingdom as in the north and the east, and most of all in the west. At the last Census, Norfolk had among its 435,000 people 11 above 100 years old; Gloucestershire, with 485,000 people, had eight centenarians; and Somerset, with its 445,000, had nine. Wales, with its 1,112,000, had no less than 24, the same number as Lancashire with its 2,400,000 people, and more than London with its 2,800,000 inhabitants. So far as the occupations of these long-lived persons are given, the returns show a majority engaged in pursuits that caused them to be much in the open air. Three had been farmers, 13 out-door farm servants, five labourers, three hawkers, three seamen, three soldiers; there was a fisherman, a quarrier, a waterworks man, a miller. But there was also a scrivener, four shoemakers, a baker, a grocer, a carpenter, a marine-store dealer, three persons occupied in cotton manufacture, two in woollen, one in silk, one in lace. Of the women the returns commonly state only whether the person is wife or widow, but we are told that there were six who had been domestic servants, two nurses, three charwomen, two washerwomen, and a gipsy. One centenarian was a member of the Household. Fourteen are described as land or house proprietors, or independent; 19 were passing their last years in the workhouse. Six were blind.--_From the Census Report._

_The Human Heart._

If we regard the construction of the blood-vessels, and other parts of the circulating system, we find that they are constructed entirely on physical laws. The Heart is the mover which propels the blood, and, after having given the stroke, its fibres become relaxed, to receive a fresh supply. In this case it is important that the fluid should not again regurgitate into its cavities; and to prevent that, a system of valves, not thicker than paper, has been contrived. Here we see a design identical with that pursued by man in the construction of his pump, or even, in some cases, of his floodgates. The only difference between the work of man and the work of Nature is, that the latter is executed in a manner so superior, that man feels that he sinks into insignificance beside the Creator.

That wonderful machine, the Heart, goes night and day, for eighty years together, at the rate of 100,000 strokes for every twenty-four hours, having at every stroke a great resistance to overcome. Now, each ventricle will contain at least one ounce of blood; the heart contracts 4000 times in an hour, from which it follows that there pass through the heart every hour 4000 ounces, or 350 pounds of blood. The whole mass of blood is said to be about twenty-five pounds; so that a quantity equal to the whole mass of blood passes through the heart fourteen times in one hour, which is about once in every four minutes.

_The Sense of Hearing._

Mr. John Marshall, in a Lecture on the special organs of the Sense of Hearing, describes the wonderful arrangements for the protection of these organs and their adaptation to their office; the examination of their relative duties, in distinguishing the kinds and intensities of the sounds of such exceeding variety, produced by inanimate nature, by animals, and by art (music). For the appreciation of the pitch and quality of sounds Mr. Marshall considers that we are indebted to the delicate fibrous structure of the cochlea; for the knowledge of the intensity of sound to the tympanum or drum, which, possessing the power of tension and relaxation, thus acts a protective part; while in our knowledge of the distance and direction of sound we are guided by the external parts of the ear and by our experience.

_Care of the Teeth._

Dr. J. H. Bowditch, of the United States, having examined with a microscope the matter deposited on the teeth and gums of more than 40 individuals, selected from all classes of society, and in nearly every variety of bodily condition, has discovered, in nearly every case, animal and vegetable parasites in great numbers; in fact, the only persons whose mouths were found to be entirely free from these parasites cleaned their teeth four times daily, using soap once. Among the agents applied, it was found that tobacco-juice and smoke did not impair the vitality of the parasites; nor did the chlorine tooth-wash, pulverized bark, soda, ammonia, &c. Soap, however--pure white soap--destroyed the parasites instantly, and is, therefore, the best specific for cleaning the teeth.

It having been asked, “Did the Greek surgeons extract teeth?”
Mr. George Hayes, the well-known dentist, replied, that on one
of the ornaments found in an ancient building in the Crimea,
is represented a surgeon drawing a tooth from the mouth of one
of the barbarian royalties. “This,” says Mr. Hayes, “I think,
establishes the fact that there were then peripatetics, either
Egyptian or Greek dentists, who resorted to those distant
countries for the purpose of practising their art. I believe this
is the only representation of a surgical operation to be met with
on ancient sculpture.”

Sugar has been proved injurious to the teeth, from its tendency to combine with their calcareous basis.

_On Blindness._

Many have been the appeals to our sympathy with the affliction of the loss of sight, but neither has, perhaps, exceeded in pathos the following from an address delivered by Sir John Coleridge, at the West of England Institution for the Blind:

“Conceive to yourselves, for a moment, what is the ordinary entertainment and conversation that passes around any one of your family tables; how many things we talk of as matters of course, as to the understanding and as to the bare conception of which sight is absolutely necessary. Consider again, what an affliction the loss of sight must be, and that when we talk of the golden sun, the bright stars, the beautiful flowers, the blush of spring, the glow of summer, and the ripening fruit of autumn, we are talking of things of which we do not convey to the minds of these poor creatures who are born blind anything like an adequate conception. There was once a great man, as we all know, in this country, a poet--and nearly the greatest poet that England has ever had to boast of--who was blind; and there is a passage in his works which is so true and touching that it exactly describes that which I have endeavoured, in feeble language, to paint. Milton says:

“‘Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of ev’n, or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature’s works, to me expunged and rased,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather then, celestial light,
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate; there plant eyes; all mist from thence
Purge and disperse; that I may see and tell
Of things invisible to mortal sight.’

“The great poet when intent upon his work sought for celestial light to accomplish it. And this brings me to that part of the labours of our institution upon which I dwell the most, and which, after all, is the greatest compensation we can afford to the inmates for the affliction they suffer; and that is, the means we provide for them to read the blessed Word of God, which they can read by day as well as by night, for light in their case is not an essential.”

_Sleeping and Dreaming._

Mr. A. E. Durham, in a discourse at the Royal Institution, on these questions, commenced by some remarks on Sleep considered as pleasant, irresistible, and necessary. A Chinese murderer, whose punishment was total privation of sleep, died on the ninth day. The amount of needful sleep varies in different persons, eight hours being the average. John Hunter took four hours’ sleep and an hour’s nap after dinner. General Elliot (of Gibraltar) required only four hours. The conditions favouring sleep were referred to--_e.g._, silence, warmth, sufficient food, and, especially, a quiet conscience and a mind at ease; and various exceptions were noticed. Considered psychologically, sleep was defined as suspended consciousness, and dreaming as a partial revival of consciousness. Torpor through cold, and coma through disease, are not sleep. After describing the structure of the brain, Mr. Durham stated that he regarded the action of sleep as analogous to a chemical process, during which the brain tissue regains from the blood what it had lost through the activity of the mind. To enable him to ascertain the condition of the brain during sleep, &c., he administered chloroform to a dog, and, while it was insensible, removed a portion of the skull, substituting for it a piece of glass. He found thus that, when the dog slept, the blood-vessels were comparatively empty, the arteries lost their bright red colour and assumed the blue colour of the veins, and the brain tissue collapsed, leaving a space within the skull which was filled with cerebral fluid. When the dog was awakened the blood-vessels resumed their functions, and the brain once more filled the cavity.

_Position in Sleeping._

It is better to go to sleep on the right side. If one goes to sleep on the left side the operation of emptying the stomach of its contents is like drawing water from a well. After going to sleep let the body take its own position. If you sleep on your back, especially soon after a hearty meal, the weight of the digestive organs and that of the food, resting upon the great vein of the body, near the backbone, compresses it, and arrests the flow of the blood more or less. If the arrest is partial, the sleep is disturbed, and there are unpleasant dreams. For persons who eat three times a day it is amply sufficient to make the last meal of bread-and-butter, and a cup of some warm drink. No one can starve on it; while a perseverance in the habit soon begets a vigorous appetite for breakfast, so promising of a day of comfort.--_Hall’s Journal of Health._

_The Hair suddenly changing Colour._

Dr. Davy has read to the British Association an interesting paper “On the Question, whether the Hair is or is not subject to Sudden Changes of Colour.” This he decides in the negative, explaining away the evidence on which the contrary belief has become popular; and also maintaining with regard to seemingly analogous phenomena, such as the becoming white of the ptarmigan, and many animals and birds in winter, that it is through moult and not change of colour in feather or hair.

Nevertheless, in the biography of Montaigne, the celebrated
French essayist, we read:--“Among others whose acquaintance
Montaigne made in the bath-room, was Seigneur d’Andelot, formerly
in the service of Charles V. and governor for him of St. Quentin.
One side of his beard and one eyebrow were white; and he related
that this change came to him in an instant. One day as he was
sitting at home, with his head leaning on his hand, in profound
grief at the loss of a brother, executed by the Duke of Alva as
accomplice of Counts Egmont and Horne, when he looked up and
uncovered the part which he had clutched in his agony, the people
present thought that flour had been sprinkled over him.”

Mr. D. P. Parry, Staff-surgeon, at Aldershott, writes the
following very remarkable account of a case of which he says he
made memoranda shortly after the occurrence:--“On February 19,
1858, the column under General Franks, in the south of Oude, was
engaged with a rebel force at the village of Chanda, and several
prisoners were taken; one of them, a Sepoy of the Bengal army,
was brought before the authorities for examination, and I being
present had an opportunity of watching from the commencement
the fact I am about to record. Divested of his uniform and
stripped naked, he was surrounded by the soldiers, and then
first apparently became alive to the dangers of his position; he
trembled violently, intense horror and despair were depicted in
his countenance, and although he answered the questions addressed
to him, he seemed almost stupified with fear; while actually
under observation, within the space of half-an-hour, his hair
became grey on every portion of his head, it having been when
first seen by us the glossy jet black of the Bengalee, aged
about 24. The attention of the bystanders was first attracted by
the sergeant, whose prisoner he was, exclaiming, ‘He is turning
grey,’ and I with several other persons watched its progress.
Gradually but decidedly the change went on, and a uniform greyish
colour was completed within the period above named.”

_Consumption not hopeless._

Sir Edward Wilmot, the physician, was, when a youth, so far gone in Consumption, that Dr. Radcliffe, whom he consulted, gave his friends no hope of his recovery, yet he lived to the age of ninety-three; upon which Dr. Heberden notes: “This has been the case with some others, who had many symptoms of Consumption in youth.”

The life of Sir Hans Sloane was protracted by extraordinary means: when a youth, Sloane was attacked with spitting of blood, which interrupted his education for three years; but by abstinence from wine and other stimulants, and continuing, in some measure, this regimen ever afterwards, he was enabled to prolong his life to the age of ninety-three years; exemplifying the truth of his favourite maxim--that sobriety, temperance, and moderation, are the best preservatives that nature has granted to mankind.

_Change of Climate._

The difference in disease produced by change to warmer or colder climate has been thus ably illustrated by Dr. Graves:

We observe that the English in India suffer greatly from
liver disease; whilst, on the other hand, negroes and natives
frequently die of phthisis (consumption) in England. Monkeys die
of consumption, so do lions and tigers. This is a very important
fact in the pathology of phthisis, as tending to prove that
although phthisis is in many instances distinctly hereditary,
nevertheless it may be, and is, frequently acquired. Nothing can
furnish a stronger proof that phthisis may be acquired than the
instances I have adduced, for I need not tell you that no lion
or tiger is ever born in warm climates of a consumptive sire, or
ever dies there of tubercular disease. An additional illustration
of the influence heat exercises on the size of the liver is
afforded by the celebrated Strasburg geese. By feeding these
birds in a particular way, and keeping them in artificial heat,
the liver becomes diseased, grows to an enormous size, and in
this state furnishes the materials of the famous pâté. How many
instances occur where our citizens, exposing themselves to the
long continued operation of the very same causes, confinement,
overfeeding, heat, and want of exercise, are affected by them
in exactly the same way! How slight the difference between the
morbid phenomena displayed in the post-mortem of a city feaster
and the autopsy of an over-fed goose.

_Perfumes._

A knowledge of the nature and operations of Perfumes is a very proper thing to propagate. Ignorance respecting them often leads to mischief. Dr. Capellini relates the story of a lady who fancied that she could not bear the smell of a rose, and who accordingly fainted at the sight of one, which turned out to be artificial! This is rather an extreme case; but minor mistakes, adverse to the use of perfumes, are very common. Many persons suppose that they are injurious, because flowers left in a bedroom by night, will sometimes cause headache and sickness. But this is attributable, not to the escaping aroma, but to the carbonic acid which the air imbibes from the flowers. On the other hand Mr. Rimmel contends that perfumes are beneficial and prophylactic in the highest degree. He reminds us that after the Dutch had destroyed, by speculation, the clove-trees in the Island of Ternate, that colony was visited by a series of epidemics, which had been kept off until then by the fragrant smell of the cloves; and in more modern times, when London and Paris were ravaged by cholera, there was not a single victim among the numerous persons employed in the perfumery factories of either city.

_Cure for Yellow Fever._

A private letter from Her Majesty’s Vice-consul at Cape Bolivar to Her Majesty’s Acting Consul-General at Caracas states:--“An old woman, named Mariquita Orfila, has discovered a perfect remedy for the black vomit and yellow fever, by means of which several persons have been completely cured after a consultation of doctors had declared that the cases were quite hopeless, and that the patients must die in a few hours. The remedy is the juice of the pounded leaves of the verbena, given in small doses three times a day, and injections of the same every two hours, until the bowels are emptied. The verbena is a wild shrub, to be found growing almost everywhere, and particularly in low, moist ground. All our doctors have adopted its use, and now few or none die of those late fearful diseases. There are two kinds of it, male and female; the latter is most used.”

_Nature’s Ventilation._

Upon the proper adjustments of the dynamical forces which keep up the ceaseless movements of the atmosphere, the life of organic nature depends. If the air that is breathed were not taken away and renewed, warm-blooded life would cease: if carbon, and oxygen, and hydrogen, and water were not in due quantities dispensed by the restless air to the flora of the earth, all vegetation would perish for lack of food. That our planet may be liable to no such calamity, power has been given to the wayward wind, as it “bloweth where it listeth,” to bring down from the pure blue sky fresh supplies of life-giving air wherever it is wanted; and to catch up from the earth, wherever it may be found, that which has become stale; to force it up, there to be deflagrated among the clouds, purified and renovated by processes known only to Him whose ministers they are. The slightest change in the purity of the atmosphere, though it may be too slight for recognition by chemical analysis in the laboratory, is sure to be detected by its effects upon the nicer chemistry of the human system; for it is known to be productive of disease and death. No chemical tests are sensitive enough to tell us what those changes are; but experience has taught us the necessity of ventilation in our buildings, of circulation through our groves. The cry, in cities, for fresh air from the mountains or the sea, reminds us continually of the life-giving virtues of circulation. Experience teaches that all air, when pent up and deprived of circulation, becomes impure and poisonous. In referring to ventilation, we are never to forget that, in order to secure Nature’s pure air, it is essential to guard against the many sources of its pollution. The air which descends to us is pure; but it is left to man to maintain it so; hence we have to drain our marshes, empty foul ditches, remove cesspools, and see that our streets are sewered and paved. The Deity has given laws for the moral government of society; but He leaves to man, on whom He has bestowed intelligence, the discovery and the application of those scientific means which are necessary to health and physical happiness.--_Captain Maury._

_Artificial Ventilation._

In Wyman’s _Practical Treatise on Ventilation_ we find these curious results. In a weaving-mill near Manchester, where the ventilation was bad, the proprietor caused a fan to be mounted. The consequences soon became apparent in a curious manner. The operatives, little remarkable for olfactory refinement, instead of thanking their employer for his attention to their comfort and health, made a formal complaint to him that the ventilator had increased their appetites, and therefore entitled them to a corresponding increase of wages! By stopping the fan a part of the day, the ventilation and voracity of the establishment were brought to a medium standard, and complaints ceased. The operatives’ wages would but just support them; any additional demands by their stomachs could only be answered by draughts upon their backs, which were by no means in a condition to answer them. In Edinburgh a club was provided with a dinner in a well ventilated apartment, the air being perfumed as it entered, imitating in succession the fragrance of lavender and the orange-flower. During dinner the members enjoyed themselves as usual, but were not a little surprised at the announcement of the provider, that they had drunk three times as much wine as he had usually provided. Gentlemen of sober, quiet habits, who usually confined themselves to a couple of glasses, were not satisfied with less than half a bottle; others, who took half a bottle, now extended their potations to a bottle and a half. In fact, the hotel-keeper was drunk dry. That gentlemen who had indulged so freely were not aware of it at the time is not wonderful; but that they felt no unpleasant sensations the following morning, which they did not, is certainly quite so.

_Worth of Fresh Air._

Among the sanitary enactments of the last few years is the Local Government Act, for the better enforcement of appliances for Public Health. An Office has been established specially for the business of this Act, with a well-paid Secretary and Medical Inspector: it arose upon the cessation of the labours of the Board of Health; and the gain by the change may be estimated by the following Hints from an engineering Sanitary Inspector of the Local Government Office:

Sanitary work is not necessarily doing some great thing, but
consists more in prompt and efficient attention to small matters.
Fresh air is the best disinfectant, but most people, even in
England, treat fresh air as if it were an evil. We shut it out of
our houses by day, and confine foul air in our rooms by night,
especially during the time we use them for sleep.

An invalid takes a carriage airing with closed windows; such a
ride is, however, in truth, a carriage poisoning. If an open
carriage cannot be used on any day in the year with safety,
the individual had better not use a carriage; and no room
should be occupied which has not an unceasing flow of fresh
air through it--not necessarily a draught, but motion. Open
flues, open doors, or open windows admit of change of air; not,
however, always with comfort to the inmates. But as a room
cannot be hermetically sealed up, provision ought to be made
for an admission of fresh air, rather than for the stealing
in of sewer, drain, cesspool, or sink gases. List up doors,
carpet floors, paper window-joints, and block up fireplaces, if
contagious diseases are to have their most malignant effects;
ventilate houses, by open windows on staircases or in corridors
if possible, but by all means ventilate. Cold does not kill so
many as foul air, although a low temperature generally increases
the weekly bills of mortality. But it is the very poor who
suffer most. The Chinese say, “Fools and beggars only suffer
from cold; the one have not wit to clothe properly, the others
are too poor to clothe sufficiently.” Clothing ought to be the
protection against cold, not warm and foul air. In every house
in which typhus fever or small-pox prevails it will be safer for
the inhabitants of such houses to remove the windows rather than
to keep them closed. An open shed in a field with warm clothing
will be better than a closed room in a town. I have seen fever
patients and small-pox patients treated beneath open sheds in
the country safely, and I have heard experienced surgeons remark
that fresh air and diet were of more avail than medicine. I have
seen a British army in hospital and in the field surrounded by
foul air, wasting away by fever. I have seen that army restored
to health by cleanliness and an admission of fresh air. The
air was not cooked nor manipulated by any patented apparatus,
but was admitted direct from the vast ocean of fresh air about
and above, by slits in the ridge of huts in the Crimea, by the
removal of top squares from fixed windows at the great hospitals
on the Bosphorus, and by the opening up of flues wherever these
could with advantage be formed in those hospitals. The ordinary
atmosphere of any country freely admitted and unceasingly changed
is the only safe medium in which to breathe. In all countries
and under all climates excessive disease to man comes from foul
air generated within his dwelling rather than from any external
influences. The remedy against disease is, therefore, fresh air.
Infection is scarcely possible amid abundance of fresh air. Soap
and water can kill contagion if used in time.

The intercepting main sewers of the metropolis, if brought into
use, will actually add to existing evils rather than remove them,
if these sewers only pass away large volumes of surplus water
which now dilute the deposit in many scores of miles of secondary
and branch sewers and drains. There are hundreds of open sewer
ventilators within the metropolis sending out unceasingly
thousands of cubic feet of sewage gases to the streets above. All
this vast volume of gas might be cheaply disinfected by being
made to pass slowly through charcoal, and all foul sewers may
either be cleansed or be disinfected in time.

_Town and Country._