come electric too, and with them shudder in unison. 'Save three!' In these two words and their interpretation all happiness or misery seemed for us to centre: Father, mother, and child! Two of them! one of them at least, in mercy, must be amongst those three!' After nearly two months of wearing hopes and fears, the names were published, giving joy to other households to ours despair. They were all three strangers. Captain Arden, poor Charley's friend, was one of the few officers who escaped with life; he wrote us a sad letter, with but one cold gleam of hope, in a report that he had heard of some Europeans of Fusabad being still alive in the revolted district, under the protection of a native rajah; but we were sunk too deep in sorrow to be buoyed by such a floating straw as this. We gave the writer credit for good intentions, but were not more wretched when we read, in his second letter: 'Our last spark of hope has, I fear, died out. I come to England by the earliest packet, and my first visit will be to you.' He had things to tell us of a very terrible interest. By this time autumn had faded, and winter was spreading over us his snow-white pall, lightly and tenderly, as in our island he ever spreads it, like a father covering the face of his dead child. But the seasons themselves could bring no such change upon nature as it seemed, in the sadness of our hearts, to have already suffered. The breeze that swept our lofty downlands was no longer blithe and spirit-stirring, but rose in gusts of lamentation, and died away in melancholy sighs: the laughing sea had become a waste of waters; and our favourite paths, where the evergreens flourish as in spring, might have been full of withered leaves, so loth were we to walk there; because our Charley seemed to be associated with all these things, as the scent with the flower, or as the soul with its beautiful form. If this seems to be exaggeration, it must be remembered that our little household is a very simple one, and alone in the world, and that our Charley was all in all to us.

The time had now arrived when the steamer that was to bring Captain Arden might be expected, and we watched for it attentively, but without impatience; with eyes less tearful than had followed that retreating vessel years ago, but with hearts far heavier.

Herbert had been despatched to Southampton to await the captain, and bring him on to us at once; so that, when the black ship went by at dawn, we knew that we should see him that same evening. As the afternoon wore on, we got to be so unaccountably wistful and anxious, that the girls and I determined to walk up the cliff-road to meet our guest.

'There comes the carriage,' exclaimed thoughtless Alice, presently, clapping her hands.

A look from her sister reminded her at once of the tidings which our visiter must needs have to tell us, and the poor girl (who has as loving a heart as any of us) hung her head down, and let fall her veil. She must have been mistaken, however, about the carriage, as it must have by this time emerged round the corner of the rock. Instead of this, a solitary horseman, Herbert, showed himself. Arden is not come on,' cried he, but I have seen him; he has brought the best of news, the very best: the baby is saved-Ellen is saved-Charley is saved: the rajah took the very greatest care of the whole family. Now don't get white and foolish, Janet, or I will tell you no more news.'

'They are here,' murmured Janet, faintly; they are all here, I know.'

'Well, dearest, I was going to tell you that myself: they are waiting round the cliff yonder, till you have quite made up your minds to see them.'

And there in very truth they were— the three: the crowing baby, the fair wife, and our own Charley, safe in their island home. Thanks be to Heaven, we had indeed a time of great joy. I would that by every English hearth, this year, the vacant chairs had been as blithely filled!

ing: if they banter your regularity, order, decency, and love of study, banter in return their neglect of them; and venture to own frankly, that you came to Cambridge to learn what you can, not to follow what they are pleased to call pleasure. In short, let your external behaviour to them be as full of politeness and ease as your inward estimation of them is full of pity, mixed with contempt. I come now to the part of the advice I have to offer to you, which most nearly concerns your welfare, and upon which every good and honourable purpose of your life will assuredly turn; I mean the keeping up in your heart the true sentiments of religion. If you are not right towards God, you can never be so towards man: the noblest sentiment of the human_breast is here brought to the test. Is gratitude in the number of a man's virtues? If it be, the highest Benefactor demands the warmest returns of gratitude, love, and praise: Ingratum qui dixerit, omnia dixit. If a man wants this virtue, where there are infinite obligations to excite and quicken it, he will be likely to want all others towards his fellow-creatures, whose utmost gifts are poor, compared to those he daily receives at the hands of his never-failing Almighty Friend. Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth," is big with the deepest wisdom: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; and an upright heart, that is understanding." This is eternally true, whether the wits and rakes of Cambridge allow it or not: nay, I must add of this religious wisdom, "Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace,' whatever your young gentlemen of pleasure think of a whore and a bottle, a tainted health and battered constitution. Hold fast, therefore, by this sheet-anchor of happiness, religion; you will often want it in the times of most danger, the storms and tempests of life. Cherish true religion as preciously as you will fly, with abhorrence and contempt, superstition and enthusiasm. The first is the perfection and glory of the human nature; the two last, the deprivation and disgrace of it. Remember the essence of religion is, a heart void of offence towards God and man; not subtle speculative opinions, but an active vital principle of faith. The words of a heathen were so fine

that I must give them to you: Compositum jus, fasque animi, sanctosque recessus mentis, et incoctum generoso pectus honesto.

Go on, my dear child, in the admirable dispositions you have towards all that is right and good, and make yourself the love and admiration of the world! I have neither paper nor words to tell you how tenderly I am yours.

Catherine Bulkeley, Abbess of Godstow, to Lord Cromwell.

A.D. vers. 1538.

(MISCELL. LETTERS, 1ST SERIES, VOL XIII., No. 34, STATE PAPER OFFICE.) (Original.)

'Pleaseth it your honour,-After my most humble duty, with immortal thanks for all your great goodness showed unto me, to be advertised that I have sent by this bearer your old fee of 40s., and your new fee of other 40s., due both at Michaelmas last. I am ashamed of them that they be so little, but I beseech you to accept them, seeing my power is no better; for if it were, truly you should have more. And if it may please your honour to send me the same two convent seals, I shall make them both in one to your lordship, and to your son, Master Gregory, and to the longer liver of you both; for gladly would I do you some pleasure, if I wist how, God knoweth my heart. In declaration whereof, for lack of better stuff, I do send you a dish of old apples, whereof some be a twelvemonth old, and some two year old; beseeching you to accept them, and to license me to set open a back gate of this monastery, which hath been shut ever since the king's visitation, for the which I have great displeasure of my neighbours; for indeed it is very nocive (hurtful) for them, especially the winter time, for by reason thereof they be fain to go two mile about, as this bearer can more at large declare to your honour; as knoweth our Lord, who ever preserve you to his pleasure. Amen.

At Godstow, the 6th day of Oc

tober.

'Your most bounden beadwoman, CATHERINE BULKELEY, 'Abbess there. "To the Right Honourable and my very singular lord, my good Lord Privy Seal, this deliver.'

A Three Weeks' Scamper through the Spas of Germany and Belgium, with an Appendix on the Nature and Uses of Mineral Waters.* By Erasmus Wilson, F.R.S. Foolscap 8vo, 368 pp. London: John Churchill. 1858.

THE AUTUMN HOLIDAY.

AN autumn holiday is one of the institutions of Great Britain; so that a hard

worked doctor need little excuse for giving himself three weeks of, I was going to say rest, but I prefer to say, for reasons that will presently appear, change. Three weeks of change; and the less so, as said doctor alleges that he has not had a holiday before since he has been in practice; and, as he promises to devote it to a useful purpose, begetting, as he hopes, increased health and vigour to himself, a state that cannot but redound to the benefit of his patients, and some few practical and practicable notions on the medicine of the renowned mineral springs of Germany.

It is quite true, but wholly inexcusable, that towards the end of a London season, the doctor medicinæ, jaded by labour, and exhausted by care and anxiety, becomes, tant soit peu, impatient and irritable, is apt to ride the high horse, and forget that his 'religio medici' demands of him patience, forbearance, and sympathy to the last degree; and that, if his patient be somewhat tiresome, he is made so by disease, by pain, and by a natural apprehension, originating in ignorance of the truth, that his malady may jeopardise his life, and, perhaps, more and dearer in terests that hang upon his life. And if all this be true, it is equally true that strong physical health is as necessary to the doctor, in the interests of his patients, as moral and mental strength; the strong man thinks strongly and comprehensively, and his vigorous earnestness forces con

* While drawing largely upon the pleasant chatty portions of Dr Wilson's book, we must not fail to make special reference to the valuable practical chapter, 'On the Nature and Uses of Mineral Waters.' The classification of mineral waters there given, in addition to other medical notes throughout the volume, will give it a permanent value to all those who may need information on such a subject.

viction on his patient, and develops and secures his patient's faith; in a word, his faith begets faith. Well, dear reader, I think I have secured your leave for the doctor's holiday; for, if his reasons have not touched you, you will at least be glad to get rid of his eloquence.

THE CALAIS PACKET AT NIGHT.

An odd sight is a Calais packet, particularly at night; it was now between but every locker, shelf, and resting-place, the table and under the table, is encumbered with some prostrate form, each looking as hideous as nightcap, cloak, travelling-cap, and wraps of every fashion, can make it; and suggesting the idea of a field of battle, littered by the slain. Here you meet with a pair of legs without any apparent body; there, a brace of arms, evidently apart from the trunk to which they ought to have hung; here is an isowhom it once belonged; now, I stumble lated head-alack! for the poor fellow to over the corpse-like form of a fellowcreature wrapped in a military cloak, as if prepared for interment; then, there is a group of lucky fellows who have escaped the fate of the rest, and are demolishing bitter beer and bread and cheese around a kind of altar-piece, from which the spirit within hands spirits without; while here oh, unhappy sight!-a turbaned On the deck, the vision was alike; but head hangs listless over a steward's basin. there the fury of the battle had been less; the bodies were not so numerous; here and there a stiffened form might be seen, expressive of the agonies of its last waking breath; some with limbs drawn up, and some with features calm as sleep, but all wounded brave staggered and reeled as he fearfully pale; here and there a seemingly attempted to walk; while others clung in speechless misery to the shrouds-a saltwater term, that might perchance too surely realise their eventful future. All this while, and over this desolate scene, the wind blew fiercely; a lady struggled to maintain her equilibrium on her camp stool; while her husband ever and anon added his weight to hers, to save her from being wafted overboard by the bellying parachute which served her in place of a hat; at last, she could stand it no longer;

eleven and twelve:-the cabin is small;

she scuttled away to the lee-scuppers, and was very sick, and the parachute was converted for the nonce into a paravent.

SEA-SICKNESS-A NEW CURE.

But what were you about all this time, doctor? You started by saying that you were a bad sailor. How did you fare? Why, dear reader, I was busy with an experiment of my own, in corpore vile, and no less a one than to determine the cause of, and thence to deduce a remedy for, sea-sickness. So, after looking about for a little while on the scene I have just described, and thinking with what zest a medical student would survey such a shower of arms and legs, and heads and necks, I began to reflect that the predisposing cause of sea-sickness must be the unwonted motion to which the body is subjected; that it was not the horizontal motion, nor the lateral or oscillating motion, for both of these we have in a railway carriage, but the vertical motion, which was the chief element of mischief; and not the vertical motion alone, but all the motions together; the vertical motion, —that is, the rise and fall of the bodybeing that to which the organic system is most unused, and of which therefore it would be most susceptible. These varied motions, after a time, are felt by the organic system of nerves, that system which commands and regulates the actions of the digestive organs; and the impression being at once unnatural and disagreeable, the said nerves evince their objection to the process, by the only kind of sensation of which they are capable; not ordinary pain, which is an attribute of the nerves of common sensation, but an equally painful condition of the organs to which they belong, namely, nausea and faintness, quickly followed by an imperious necessity to let me borrow an expression from the Calais packet-reverse the engine. We may therefore condense the phenomena of sea-sickness into a very narrow space; namely, motion, and organic sensation; and upon this narrow space may concentrate the fire of all our remedial artillery. It is quite true that it is not given to the nerves of all persons to appreciate these sensations with equal acuteness. As there are some of the creatures who people this world who have, or seem to have, no brains; others, no hearts; and others, no bowels-that is, of compassion; so there are specimens of the human family who seem to exist

without nerves; while others are all nerve; and a third class, by education—that is, by habit-are able to stifle the sensations of their nerves. The great Nelson always suffered from sea-sickness in rough weather, particularly on first going to sea after a residence on shore; and I have seen ladies whom the mere sight of the motion of the waves, or the smell of a ship, was sufficient to throw into a state of nausea. Children offer a singular variety in this respect. Some never feel sickness when on the sea; while others are unable to bear the motion of a carriage, even a railway carriage, without nausea.

The seat of the sense of nausea is the pit of the stomach; and at the bottom of that pit-like a sorcerer in his cave-lies the solar plexus, the great wizard that directs the tidal crises of the stomach, its tempests and its calms; its winds and its volcanic emotions; and to this great wizard the petitio ad misericordiam is raised by those who would secure his good offices; to him the offerings of sacrifice are made, according to the varied belief of his votaries; some come smiling on, with the conviction that they have made him their friend by the offering of a good breakfast or dinner; some give him a stiff sou-wester, as the sailors have it—that is, a glass of strong grog; others try to make him sneeze with a pinch of cayenne pepper; some would tempt him into goodnature with peppermint; others physic him with camphor or creosote; others, again, send him to sleep by means of laudanum or morphia, suffocate him with ether, or stupify him with chloroform. Each pilgrim has faith in his own nostrum, even when it fails; as it is sure to do nine times in every ten. Then we have a more modest class of devotees, who approach him timidly; they stuff his pit with a camphor bag, or cover it up with a warm plaster, be it of cummin or frankincense, and, thus armed, they boldly wait his pleasure.

Now, far be it from me to deny that the solar plexus approves of a good meal; on the contrary, no genius ever recorded in the 'Thousand and One Nights' loves good things better than he, and to make him in every way comfortable is a step of the first importance; but we must remember that he is to be comforted, not oppressed; he generally likes what he is accustomed to, and administered with the usual forms, and at the usual periods; a breakfast at breakfast-time, a dinner at