2_1 i 1^ If' li- tr .9 * /■ / . V » ♦ - t ,k %1 •3 r ■’I ■' T -- - ’v»^‘ ■ r* ' TREASURES OF Science, History and Literature Jnstructiue, ^Imueing, jpractical, FOR THE STUDY AND THE FIRESIDE. COMPRISING CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE; THE MAINTENANCE AND RECOVERY OF HEALTH; FACTS AND WONDERS OF THE BIBLE; CURIOSITIES OF THE CALENDAR; VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF ; SECRET SOCIETIES AND TEMPERANCE ORGANIZATIONS ; CURIOSITIES OF SWINDLING; HOME AMUSEMENTS; ETIQLIETTE CONDENSED; CURIOSITIES OF LITERATURE; THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA; GENERAL REFERENCE TABLES ; AND ASSUMED NAMES IN LITERATURE. (ginbellisl)cb (Sljrougljout roitl) (!Il)oirc an& Appropriate ®iems of |)oetrg. BY MOSES FOLSOM. (EoiTEr Bv J. D. O’Connor.) ILLUSTRATED WITH SUITABLE CUTS AND TWEL VE FULL-PAGE ENGRA VINGS. W. E. DIBBLE & CO., PUBLISHERS, 51 WEST FOURTH STREET, CINCINNATI, O. 1882 . f ■ COPYRIGHT, 1876, BY MOSES WARREN AND WM. H. SHEPARD. W. E. DIBBLE & CO., 1882. « TO ALL WHO SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. PREFACE. T his book is the result of the author’s long-cherished desire to bring within reach of the masses of his countrymen the literary, Biblical, scientific, archaeo- logical, ethnological, historical, political, statistical, medical, social and other truths of universal interest, that he has found scattered through a multitude of books inaccessible for the most part to the average citizen. The literature of the day is so voluminous and diffuse that cyclopaedias, handbooks and condensations of various kinds and names must necessarily form the chief sources of knowledge to that mighty multitude who have but little leisure for intellectual pursuits. In the hope of supplying this necessity, at least to some extent, has this book been written; and, in pursuance of his design, the author has selected a dozen topics of paramount interest, under which to introduce a great mass of thoroughly digested information of enduring value. He has labored to restrain all tendency to expansion, and to give the truths he sought to convey with as much conciseness as was compatible with accuracy and perspicuity. An effort has also been made (and it is thought with success, but of this the reader is left to judge) to observe a natural order of connection throughout, instead of the hap-hazard jumbling together of incongruous subjects that characterizes most collections of this kind, making them so many labyrinthian receptacles of unavailable, because unassorted, knowledge. He has chosen to use plain and simple language, that what he had to commu- nicate might be within the reach of all who have enjoyed the advantages of at least an ordinary education. He has endeavored to guard against burying knowl- edge under a weight of words, or clothing it in a garb of scientific and popularly unintelligible terms. In his treatment of* the various subjects, the author has not aimed at any pre- tended originality, believing, as he does, that the man of today is the legitimate heir of the accumulated wisdom of his predecessors, without prejudice, of course, to the vested rights — copyright or other — of the present generation. He, how- ever, hopes that he has interpreted aright the wishes of the many, and has in this work contributed something to supply their need of a compact, comprehensive and well-arranged book of reference. He claims the merit of a laborious industry that has verified statements from whatever source originally derived, and that would 6 PREFACE . not be content with the opinion of a Newton unless confirmed by a Herschel or a Laplace. His aim has been to secure accuracy of statement, not to startle by the surprises of new conceits; and the work is a carefully prepared compilation rather than an independent original production. Nor does the author think it the less likely to be useful on that account. He could not without manifest pre- sumption expect to treat the many subjects discussed in this book with as much ability as the eminent scholars who have made each a specialty, and to whom he is mainly indebted for the views set forth. Men who have devoted a lifetime to soiue special subject are, all things else being equal, our best guides, and this work has been compiled on that principle. Its chief merit must depend upon the discriminating judgment with which its materials have been selected, much more than upon the author’s attainments in any one of the numerous departments of scholarly research , which it covers. Due credit has been given throughout the work to the several authors quoted, except in a few unimportant instances where the requirements of a tasteful typo- graphical arrangement rendered imperative a departure from this just recognition. The author has freely used for purposes of[ comparison and verification the Apple- tons’ American Cyclopsedia, the Chambers’s Encyclopaedia, and the Encyclopaedia Britannica, as well as several hundred works, specially devoted to one or more of the subjects treated, from the extensive library of his publisher, Moses Warren, Esq., of Chicago. He also takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to Mr. Warren for many valuable suggestions, as well as for the excellent manner in which the work has been issued; and to his laborious editor, Mr. O’Connor, for the unwearied vigilance with which, from first to last, he has applied his varied attainments to secure the perfection of the work. And now, with a sense of having honestly discharged his obligations to all who have directly aided him in producing his ideal of a useful book, as well as his self- assumed duty to the readers of the work, he commits his “ Treasures ” to the kind consideration of his fellow-citizens of the Great Republic, in this the centennial year of its existence as a nation. Table of Contents. CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. PAGE. NATURAL HISTORY OF MAN, - 19-37 The Animal Kingdom, 19 The Races of Mankind, 19 The Five Races of Man, .... 20 I. The Caucasian, Indo-European, Indo-Ger- manic or Aryan Race, - - - 20 II. The Mongolian Race, - - - - 20 III. The Ethiopian Race, - - - - 20 IV. The Malay Race, 20 V. The American Race, .... 20 Distinctive Characteristics of the Five Races, 21 The Eleven Races, after Pickering, - - - 22 The Five Races, after Figuier, - - - 22 Man’s Preeminence, - 22 Man, a poem, 22 Man’s Origin and Early Condition, . - - 23 Origin, 23 Primeval Condition, 23 The Five Ages of Hesiod, .... 23 Man’s Birthplace, 23 Antiquity of Man, 23 Creation of Adam, 24 The Ages of the Archaeologists, - - - 24 Mankind Progressive, 24 The Present Age, - 25 “The Good Old Times,” 26 The Coming Age, - 27 What is Man.^ 28 In the Language of Cosmology ; In the Lan- guage of Anatomy ; In the Language of Physiology ; In the Language of Chemistry ; In the Language of Hygiene; In the Lan- guage of Phrenology; In the Language of Physiognomy ; In the Language of Meta- physics; In the Language of Psychology ; In the Language of True Spiritualism ; In the Language of Theology; In the Lan- guage of Education; In the Language of Histor}'; In the Language of Individualism; In the Language of Society; In the Lan- guage of Ethnology, Philology, etc., - 28-29 Man the Crown of Creation, - - - - 29 Man the Lord of Creation, - - - - 30 Who is Master — Man or Beast.^ - - 30 Whence Man’s Superiority.^ - - - - 32 Man’s Power, 32 Wherein Man Falls Short, - - - -32 Man’s Adaptability to all Climes, - - - 32 Man at Home Everywhere, a poem, - - - 34 The First Man, - 34 WHAT IS LIFE.> 37-42 In the Language of Metaphor: Life is a Voy- age — Life is a Journey — Life is a Land- scape ; In the Language of Religion ; In the Language of Science; In the Language of Benevolence; In the Language of Wis- dom; In the Language of Sociability; In the Language of the Beautiful; In the Lan- guage of Poetry, 37 - 4 ° PAGE. What is Life, a poem, 41 Life — at Morn, Noon and Night, a poem, - 41 The Happy Life, a poem, - - - - • 41 All the World, a poem, 41 A Psalm of Life, a poem, - - - - - 41 THE HUMAN MACHINERY, The Human Skeleton, . . . - Analysis of Skeleton, Composition of Bone, . . - - The Skeleton, a poem, . . . - The Brain, Average Weight of Brain, - The Home of the Soul, - - - - Sizes of Skulls, Weight of Skulls, ----- Composition of Brain, Proportion of Substances in Brain, - The Heart, The Lungs, ...... The Blood, Composition of the Blood, Composition of Dried Blood, Circulation of the Blood, The Stomach, The Muscles, The Skin, The Senses, The Eye, The Ear, The Nose, The Voice, The Hail-, Remarkable Preservation of Hair, - Notions of the Ancients about Hair, - Beards and Shaving, .... False Hair, - The Hands, The Foot, The Foot’s Complaint — a poem. Temperature of the Body, Bodily Proportions, Stature, Giants, Dwarfs, Count Joseph Borowlaski, of Poland, Weight, ------- Average Height and Weight, - Average Weight in Pounds Avoirdupois, Average Height in Inches, Average Strength in Pounds, Human Strength, . . . . . The Chemical Man, .... Man Under the Microscope, The Living Temple — a poem, 42-69 - 42 43 - 43 44 - 44 - 46 46 . 46 46 - 47 47 - 48 49 - SO 50 - 50 51 - 52 S 3 - 54 55 - 56 58 - 58 59 - 59 59 ■ 61 - 62 62 - 62 62 - 63 63 - 63 64 - 64 65 - 65 66 - 66 66 - 66 66 - 67 68 THE LIFE THAT NOW IS, - - 69-96 • How We Spend Our Time, ... - 69 How the Average Man Reaches Fifty, - - 69 Wants that Kill, 69 Under the Snow, -.---- 70 8 TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. What We Eat in a Lifetime, - - - - 71 How Much to Eat, 72 One Day’s Necessary Food, - - - 72 Analysis of Foods, 73 Digestion of Foods, 73 Beaumont’s Table, - 74 Sleep, 75 Ventilation of Sleeping Rooms, - - - 77 How to Put Nervous Babies to Sleep, - - 78 The Brain in Sleep, - 78 A Case of Abnormal Sleep, - - - 79 Sleep Described, - 79 The Sleep of the Young, - - - - 79 Value of Sleep in Youth, - - - - 79 Early Rising, 79 How to Induce Sleep, 80 Sleep, a poem, - - - - - - 81 Specters and Dreams, 82 Marriage, ....... 84 Marriage and Celibacy, 84 Customs of the Ancients, .... 85 Marriage and Longevity, - - - "85 Directions and Suggestions, - - - 85 Some Curious Facts about Marriage, - - 87 Curious Marriage Custom, - - - - 87 An Actual Marriage Lottery, - - - - 88 The Virtuous Wife Far Above Rubies, - 88 Marriage, a poem, ------ 89 The Zone of Life, ------ 89 Length of Life, 90 Longevity and Civilization, - - - 91 The Y ears of Man’s Life, a poem, - - - 91 Summary of Life, ------ 91 Death, ........ gi The Death Rate, 92 Suicides, ......... Dying at the Top First, ----- 93 We Die Daily, ------- 94 Oh ! Why Should the Spirit of Mortal be Proud a poem, ------- 94 Man and Mind, a poem, - - - - - 95 Man, a poem, - 96 THE ORIGIN AND SIGNIFICANCE OF NAMES, ------ 96-110 Common, Given or Christian Names, - - 99 Names of Men, 99 Names of Women, ----- 102 Surnames, - 105 Patronymic Surnames, 107 Local Surnames, ------ 107 Surnames from the Animal Kingdom, - - io8 Beasts, 108 Fishes, 108 Birds, 108 From the Vegetable Kingdom, - - - 108 Trees, - - - - - - - - 108 Shrubs, - 108 Plants, 108 From the Mineral Kingdom, <•- - - 108 Industrial Surnames, 108 Offices, - - 108 Trades, 108 Occupations, ------ 108 Miscellaneous Surnames, 108 The Compass, 108 1 PAGE, Age, 109 Size, 109 Disposition, 109 Foods, ------- - 109 Water Crafts, 109 Time, 109 Household Articles, 109 Diseases, ....... 109 Dress, 109 Colors, - - 109 Emotions, 109 War, 109 THE LIFE THAT IS TO COME, - 110-117 There is No Death, a poem, - - - - 112 The Future, a poem, 112 Immortality, a poem, 113 MAINTENANCE AND RECOVERY OF HEALTH. HEALTH, 117-119 The Value of Health, 118 THE LAWS OF HEALTH, - - 119-126 Mental Requirements, 119 Mental Effect of Pecuniary Pressure, - - 119 Moral Requirements, 120 Physical Requirements, 121 1. Healthful Food, 12 1 2. Sleep, 123 Early Rising, a poem, - - - - 123 3. Cleanliness, ------ 124 4. Ventilation, - - 124 5. Sunshine, - 125 6. Exercise, 125 7. Dress, 126 Health a Result of Exercise, - - - - 126 DISEASE OR SICKNESS, - - 126-139 History of Medicine, 127 Sources of Disease, 132 General Remedial Principles, - - - - 132 The Great Epidemics of the World, - 133, 134 How People Get Sick, 135 How Not to Get Sick, 135 1. Let Well Enough Alone, - - - - 13S 2. Control your Temper, - - - - 133 3. Keep the Body Erect, 135 4. Observe the Laws of Health, - - - 135 5. Avoid Contracting Bad Habits, - - - 136 6. Use Pure Water, 136 Nursing the Sick, 137 Qualifications of Nurses, - - - - 137 Ventilation of Sick-rooms, - . - - 138 Cautions in Visiting the Sick, - - - 138 Benefits Derivable from Disease, - - - 138 PREVENTION BETTER THAN CURE, 139-142 How to Save the Babies, - - - - - 139 How to Prevent Accidents, - - - - 140 What to Do in Cases of Accident, - - - 141 POISONS AND THEIR ANTIDOTES, 142-144 How Poisoning is Detected, - - - - 143 THE FIVE CHIEF STIMULANTS, 144-160 Alcohol, 144 Percentage of Alcohol in Liquors, - - 145 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 9 Analysis of Beer, 145 Liquor Consumption, ..... 145 In Great Britain and Ireland, .... 145 In the United States, 146 Spirituous Liquors, 146 Fermented Liquors, 146 Statistics of Intemperance, .... Secrets of the Deadly Bowl, - - - 146 Diseases Due to Alcohol, .... 147 Alcohol Tested, 148 The Cure of Drunkenness, .... Prohibitory License, 151 A Parable, from the Gospel according to Com- mon Sense, ....... 1152 To the Rescue, a poem, - - - - - 153 Tobacco, 153 Tobacco Condemned, 154 Tobacco Praised, 155 Opium, 155 Analysis of Opium, 155 Tea, 157 Analysis of Tea, 158 Coffee, 158 Analysis of Coffee, 160 Advice, a poem, 160 SELF-DOCTORING IN EMERGENCIES, 160 Ho\V to Administer Medicines, - - - 160 General Observations, ..... 160 Miniature Drug Store, .... 161 Sizes of Doses, 161 How to Restore Animation, .... 161 Cautions, 162 Other Accidents, ...... 162 Rules for Swimmers, . . . . . 16^ Apoplexy, Lightning and Sunstroke, - - 163 Hanging, 163 Sundrj" Accidents, 163 Cut Wounds, 163 Fractures, 163 Dislocations, 164 Sprains, 164 Scalds and Burns, 164 Scratches, ....... 16^ Choking, 165 Catching Cold, 165 Results and Remedies, 167 Diphtheria, 168 Ailments of the Head, 169 Dandruff, 169 Headache, 169 Bleeding from the Nose, .... 169 Mattery Eyes, 169 Squinting, ....... jgp Dust, Cinders, etc., in Eyes, - - - - 170 Cure for Catarrh, 170 Earache, - 170 Care of Teeth, 170 Toothache, - - - - - - - 172 Sore Throat, 172 Offensive Breath, 172 A Cure for Hydrophobia, - - - - 172 Consumption, - - - . - - The Best Regions for Consumptives, - - 174 To Test the Lungs, 174 Bleeding from the Lungs, - - - - 17S A Specific for the Prevalent American Nervous Disease, - Cholera, Sure Cure for Cholera, Diarrhea, Constipation, - Hiccough, Colic, Neuralgia, Erysipelas, Palpitation, Heartburn, Dyspepsia, Frost-bites, Chilblains, - - - - Warts, Corns and Bunions, Felons, .... Run-around and Ringworm, - Chapped Hands and Stings, Jaundice, .... Dr. Peabody’s Remedy, - Piles, ..... Carbuncles and Boils, My Boil, and How I Cured It, Children’s Diseases, - Scarlet Fever and Measles, The Mumps, Fits and Convulsions, Hooping-Cough, Croup, Worms, .... Thrush or Canker, - Sundries, .... Hard Substances in Nose and Ears, Swallowing Hard Substances, Bow-legged Children, - Biting the Nails, . . . . Holding the Breath, 175 - 175 176 - 176 177 - 177 177 • 177 177 - 177 177 - 178 179 - 179 179 - 180 180 - 180 180 - 180 180 - 181 181 - 183 183 - 183 184 - 184 184 - 184 185 - 185 i8s - 185 183 - 18s 18s FACTS AND WONDERS OF THE BIBLE. THE BIBLE AND ITS DIVISIONS, - 1S9-200 Inspiration of the Bible, 189 Commendations of the Bible, .... jgi What is Claimed for It, - - - - - 193 Its Diversity and Unity, 193 Its Sufficiency and Sublimity, - - - 194 Its Truth, - 194 Its Growth, 194 The Family Bible, a poem, ..... 195 Divisions of the Bible, 195 The Whole Bible, - - - - - - 195 The Old Testament, 195 The Apocrypha, 195 The New Testament, ..... 196 How to Read the Bible in a Year, - - - 196 Analysis of the Bible, 196 The Old Testament, 196 The New Testament, 198 The Apocrypha, 198 Names and Order of the Books, a poem, - 200 The Lost Books, 200 VERSIONS AND TRANSLATIONS OF THE BIBLE, .... 200-208 The Hebrew Version or Original Text, - - 201 The Samaritan Version, 202 lO TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. The Septuagint Greek Version, - - - - 202 The Vulgate Latin Version, - - - - 202 Other Ancient Versions, 203 English Translations — Wickliffe’s Bible; Tyn- dale’s Bible; Matthew’s Bible; Cranmer’s Bible; Geneva Bible; The Bishop’s Bible; Parker’s Bible; Douay Bible; King James’s Bible, 203-206 American Reprint, 206 The Bay Psalm Book, ----- 206 Other Modern Translations, - - - - 207 Luther’s German Translation, - - - 207 Polyglot Bibles, ------- 207 Bible Societies, 207 American Bible Society, 208 American and Foreign Bible Society, - 208 British and Foreign Bible Society, - - - 208 FAVORITE NUMBERS OF THE BIBLE, 20^217 The Number Three, 208 The Number Seven, 210 The Number Ten, 213 The Number Twelve, 214 The Number Forty, 216 WONDERS OF THE BIBLE, - - 217-220 Miracles of Christ, 217 Miracles by the Apostles, - - - - 218 Names and Titles Given to Christ, - - - 218 Chronology of the Life of Christ, - - - 218 Description of Jesus Christ, - - - - 219 The Death Warrant of Christ, - - - 219 Sentence, 219 CURIOSITIES OF THE BIBLE, - 220-223 The Decalogue, 220 Circumcision, ------- 220 Fishing, 220 The Lord’s Prayer, a cross, - - - - 221 “ Bible Quotations ” not in the Bible, - - 221 Poem from Biblical Texts, - - - - 221 Metrical Version of the Lord’s Prayer, - - 222 “ Search the Scriptures,” - - - - 222 “ Seek and Ye shall Find,” a cross, - - - 222 A Strange Substitute for the Bible, - - 223 CURIOSITIES OF THE CALENDAR. ORIGIN OF THE CALENDAR,- - 227-228 Synchronism of Various Calendars, - - 228 DIVISIONS OF THE CALENDAR, - 229-232 The Day, 229 The Week, -------- 229 The Days of the Week, ----- 230 Sunday, 230 Monday, 230 Tuesday, -------- 230 Wednesday, - - 230 Thursday, 230 Friday, 230 Saturday, 230 The Months, 231 The Year, 231 PAGE. MEMORIAL DAYS OF THE YEAR, 232-264 January, 233 Jan. I. New Year’s Day, - - - - 234 Circumcision, - - - - - 235 Jan. 6. Epiphany, ----- 235 Twelfth Day, 235 Jan. 7. Distaff Day, ----- 235 Jan. 8. St. Lucian, 236 Plow Monday, 236 Jan. 13. St. Hilary, 236 Jan. 17. St. Anthony, - - - ■ - - 236 Jan. 18. St. Prisca, - 236 Jan. 19. St. Wulstan, 236 Jan. 20. St. Fabian, 236 Jan. 21. St. Agnes, 236 Jan. 22. St. Vincent, 237 Jan. 25. Conversion of St. Paul, - - - 237 Jan. 27. St. John Chrysostom, - - - 237 Jan. 29. Birthday of Swedenborg, - - 237 January, a poem, 237 February, 237 Feb. I. St. Ignatius, 238 Feb. 2. Purification, or Candlemas, - - 238 Feb. 3. St. Blaise, 238 Feb. 5. St. Agatha, 238 Feb. 7. St. Romualdo, ----- 238 Quinquagesima Sunday, - - - - 238 Shrove Tuesday, ------ 238 Ash Wednesday, 239 Feb. 14. St. Valentine, 239 Feb. 22. Washington’s Birthday, - - 239 Feb. 29. St. Oswald, 240 February, a poem, ------ 240 March, 2.^0 Mar. I. St. David, 240 The Ember Days, - 240 Mar. 2. St. Cheddi, or Chad, - - - 240 Mothering Sunday, ------ 240 Mar. 12. St. Gregory the Great, - - - 240 Mar. 17. St. Patrick, 241 Mar. 18. St. Edward the Martyr, - - 241 Mar. 20. St. Cuthbert, 241 Palm Sunday, ------ 241 Mar. 21. St. Benedict, 241 Maundy Thursday, ----- 241 Mar. 25. The Annunciation, - - - - 241 Good Friday, - - - - - 242 Easter, 242 March, a poem, 243 April, 243 April I. All Fools’ Day, - - - - 243 April 3. St. Richard, 243 April 4. St. Ambrose, 244 Low Sunday, - - - 244 April 19. St. Elphege, 244 April 23. St. George, 244 April 25. St. Mark, 244 April, a poem, - 244 May, 244 May I. St. Philip and St. James, - - - 245 Rogation Days, 245 May 3. The Finding of the Cross, - - - 245 Ascension Day, 245 May 7. St. John of Beverly, - - - - 245 Whitsunday, 245 May 19. St. Dunstan, 245 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 1 1 PAGK. Trinity Sunday, 246 May 26. St. Augustine, 246 May 27. Death of John Calvin, - - - 246 Corpus Christi, 246 Fete Dieu, 246 May 29. Royal Oak Day, .... 246 May 30. Memorial or Decoration Day, - 246 May, a poem, 246 June, 246 June I. St. Nicomede, 247 June 5. St. Boniface, 247 June II. St. Barnabas, 247 June 13. St. Anthony of Padua, - - - 247 June 17. St. Alban, 247 June 24. St. John the Baptist, - - - 247 June 29. St. Peter, 247 June, a poem, 248 July, 24S July 2. Visitation of the Virgin Mary, - 248 July 4. Independence Day, .... 248 July 15. St. Swithin’s Day,- - - - 249 July 20. St. Margaret, 249 July 22. St. Mary Magdalene, - - - 249 July 25. St. James, 249 July 26. St. Anne, 250 July 27. Festival of the Seven Sleepers, - 250 July 29. St. Martha 250 J uly, a poem, 250 August, 250 Aug. I. Lammas Day, 251 Aug. 3. Sailing of Columbus, - - - 251 Aug. 6. Transfiguration, - - - - -251 Aug. 7. Name of Jesus, .... 251 Aug. 10. St. Lawrence, 251 Aug. 20. St. Bernard, 251 Aug. 24. St. Bartholomew, .... 251 Aug. 28. St. Augustine, .... 252 Aug. 29. Beheading of John the Baptist, - 252 Aug. 31. Birthday of John Bunyan, - - 252 August, a poem, - - - - ' - - - 252 September, - 252 Sept. I. St. Giles, 252 Sept. 7. St. Enurchus, 252 Sept. 8. Nativity of the Virgin Mary, - - 252 Sept. 14. Exaltation of the Holy Cross, - 252 Sept. 17. St. Cyprian, 253 Sept. 21. St. Matthew, .... 253 Sept. 24. Feast of the Ingathering, - - 253 Sept. 29. St. Michael and all the Angels, - 253 Sept. 30. St. Jerome, 253 September, a poem, 253 October, 253 Oct. I. Festival of the Rosary, - - - 253 Oct. 4. St. Francis of Assisi, . - - - 254 Oct. 6. St. Faith, 254 Oct. 9. St. Denys, 254 Oct. 12. Discovery of America, - - - 254 Oct. 13. Translation of Edward, Confessor, - 254 Oct. 17. St. Etheldreda, . - - - 254 Oct. 18. St. Luke, 254 Oct. 25. St. Crispin, 254 Oct. 28. St. Simon and St. Jude, - - - 255 Oct. 31. Halloween, 255 October, a poem, 255 November, 255 Nov. I. All Saints, 255 Nov. 2. All Souls, .... Nov. 6. St. Leonard, .... Nov. II. St. Martin, . . . - Nov. 13. St. Britius, .... Nov. 15. St. Machutus, Nov. 17. St. Hugh, ..... Nov. 20. St. Edmund, or Edmund Martyr, Nov. 22. St. Cecilia’s Day, Nov. 23. St. Clement, . - - • - Thanksgiving, Nov. 25. St. Katherine, Advent Sunday, Nov. 30. St. Andrew, - November, a poem, December, ...... Dec. 6. St. Nicholas, , . . . Dec. 8. Conception of the Virgin Mary, Dec. 13. St. Lucy, Dec. 21. St. Thomas, .... Dec. 25. Christmas, .... Dec. 26. St. Stephen, .... Dec. 27. St. John, Dec. 28. Holy Innocents, - Dec. 31. St. Sylvester, .... New Year’s Eve, a poem, December, a poem, ..... The Year’s Twelve Children, a poem, - PAGE. 255 ■ 256 2c,6 ■ 256 256 - 256 257 - 257 257 - 257 258 - 258 2.59 ■ 259 2.59 - 259 259 - 2.59 260 - 260 262 - 262 262 - 262 263 - 263 263 MISCELLANIES OF THE CALENDAR, 264-272 The Fasts of the Jews, ..... 264 The Day of Atonement, .... 264 Fast of the Fourth Month, .... 264 Fast of the Fifth, 264 Fast of the Seventh, 264 Fast of the Tenth, 265 The Feasts of the Jews — Sabbaths, - - - 265 New Moon, ....... 265 Feast of Trumpets, 265 The Passover, 266 Pentecost, 266 Feast of Tabernacles, .... 266 Purim, 266 The Feast of the Dedication, - - . 267 Mohammedan Festivals, ..... 267 The Hegira, ...... 267 The Kurban Beyram, 267 The Weekly Sabbath, ..... 267 Other Festivals, 267 Explanations of the Almanac, - - - 267 To Find the Length of the Day and Night, - 268 Dominical Letter, ...... 268 To Find the Dominical Letter for Any Year, 268 Table of Dominical Letters, . . - 269 Golden Number, 269 The Epact, 269 How to Find Easter Sunday, .... 270 Comprehensive Calendar for the 19th Century, 271 The Closing Y ear, a poem, .... 272 VARIETIES OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. THE GREAT RELIGIONS OF THE WORLD, - 275-285 Paganism, 275 Fetichism, 276 Parseeism, 276 12 TABLE OF CONTENTS. Brahmanism, . . . . Shintoism, or “Kami no Michi,” Confucianism, . . - . Buddhism, . . . . Lamaism, Islam or Mohammedanism, - Judaism, . . - . . Christianity, - - - . Strength of the Great Creeds, - 277 278 - 278 279 - 280 281 - 282 283 - 284 CHRISTIAN DENOMINATIONS IN THE UNITED STATES, - - - 285-296 Adventists, 285 Baptists, 285 Christian Connection, 286 Church of God, 286 “ Christians,” or Disciples of Christ, - - 286 Congregationalists, 286 Dunkers, 286 Dutch Reformed, 287 Episcopalians, 287 Evangelical Association, 288 Friends or Quakers, 288 German Reformed, 288 Lutherans, ^ . 288 Mennonites, 288 Methodists, 289 Mormons, - 290 Moravians, 290 Presbyterians, 291 Roman Catholics, 292 Spiritualists, 292 Swedenborgians, 293 Unitarians, 293 United Brethren in Christ, - - . . 294 Universalists, 294 Strength of the Denominations in the United States, 295 Who is Right? 295- Practice vs. Theory, 296 The Universal Prayer, a poem, - - - 296 RELIGIOUS COMMUNITIES, - - 297-300 Icarians, 297 Inspirationists, 297 Perfectionists, 297 Rappists, 298 Religious Orders, 299 Separatists, 299 Shakers, 300 Smaller Communities, 300 PECULIAR PEOPLE, - - - 301-304 The Owen Communities, 301 The Fourier Excitement, - . . . ^oi Greeley’s Parting Words, .... 302 Vineland, New Jersey, .... 203 The Bachelor’s Paradise, 303 The Old Maid’s Paradise, .... 304 SECRET SOCIETIES AND TEMPERANCE ORCANI- ZATIONS. THE LEADING SECRET SOCIETIES, 307-312 Freemasonry, 307 Freemasonry in the United States, - - - 308 Grades of Masonry, 308 PAGE. The York Rite, 308 The Scotch Rite, 308 Adoptive Masonry, 309 Odd Fellowship, ...... ^09 Odd Fellowship in the United States, - - 310 Method of Organization, - . - - 310 Encampments, 310 Success of the Order, 310 Knights of Pythias, 311 Patrons of Husbandry, 31 1 TEMPERANCE ORGANIZATIONS, - 312-315 The Temperance Society of Moreau and North- umberland, - ... . . - 312 American Temperance Union, .... 313 Washingtonians, 313 Father Mathew Societies, 313 Sons of Temperance, 313 Independent Order of Rechabites, - - - 314 Templars of Honor and Temperance, - - 314 Good Samaritans, 314 Good Templars, 314 Council of Friends, 314 Friends of Temperance, 314 Knight Templars of Temperance, - - - 314 Bands of Hope, - 314 Cadets of Temperance, 315 Strength of the Foregoing Societies, - - 315 Mottoes of the Various Societies, - - - 315 The National Temperance Society, - - 315 What Might be Done, a poem, - - - - 315 CURIOSITIES OF SWINDLINC. SPECIMEN SWINDLES, , - - - 319-323 The Note S\yindle, 319 Lotteries and Gift Enterprises, .... 319 Art Swindles, 320 Three-Card Monte, 320 Bunko, - 321 “Ways that are Dark,” ..... 322 Counterfeit Money, - - - , - 322 Cheap Lands, .... ... 322 Smuggled Goods, - - - . - 322 Courtship and Marriage, 322 Bogus Dollar Stores, 323 Medical Works, 323 Stoneless Fruit Trees, 323 Fortune Told, 323 The Evil Effects of Gambling, .... 323 QUACKS AND THEIR NOSTRUMS, 323-325 How the Victims are Ensnared, .... 323 How Bitters are Made, 324 Potato Starch as a Medicine, .... 324 Adulterations of Food, 324 Boot Jelly and Shirt Coffee, .... 324 Quack Medicines, a poem, - - - , - 325 HOME AMUSEMENTS. INTELLECTUAL PASTIMES, - - 329-350 Acrostics, - 329 Double Acrostics, 330 Triple Acrostics, ...... 330 Central Acrostics, 331 TABLE OF CONTENTS. '3 Anagrams, 331 Arithmoreins, 331 Buried Names, 332 Thirty Buried Organs of the Human Body, - 332 Charades, 332 Acted Charades, 333 Charades by Letters, 333 Numbered Charades, 333 Chronograms, 333 Conundrums, 333 Cryptographs, 334 Key to Cryptograph, 334 Another Example, 334 Curtailment, - - • 334 Decapitation, 334 Description, 335 Ellipses, 335 Decapitation Ellipse, 335 Enigmas, 335 Guessing Authors’ Names, ... - 336 Logogriphs, - 337 Metagrams, 337 Palindromes, 338 Positives and Comparatives, .... 338 Puzzles, 338 Eleven Made to Serve for Twelve, - - - 338 Rebuses, 340 Example, - - 340 Re-discovered Language, .... 341 Riddles, 341 Spelling to the Utmost, 341 Spelling by Figures, 342 Spelling by Sound, 342 Square, Star and Other Word Puzzles, - - 342 Square Words, ...... 342 Parallelogram, 342 Diamond Form, 342 Star Form, 343 Diagonals, 343 Center Diagonals, 343 Telestick, 344 Transmutations, 344 Transpositions, 344 Traveling Alphabetically, 344 Example, 344 Word Sentences, 345 Curiosities of Numbers, 345 Old Chinese Diagram, 346 More Complicated Diagrams, ... 3^6 Think of a Number, 44.7 Buzz, 347 The Wonders of Figures, .... 3^7 Peculiar Compositions, 348 Simon Short’s Sorrow, 348 Some T’s, 349 Proper Names Reduced to Common, - - 349 Aids to Articulation, 349 Exercise in Pronunciation, 349 Spelling School, 350 Two Times, 350 PARLOR GAMES, Forfeits, “ Pigeon Flies,” Blindman’s Buff, - 350-3 H - 350 - 351 - 352 Porco, or Spanish Blindman’s Buff, French Blindman’s Buff, - Cabinet Makers, .... Cupid’s Box, .... Deaf Man, “ Do as I Do,” - . . - Flour Dealer, “ I had a Little Basket,” My Lady’s Toilet, .... “My Owl,” Pairs, “ Philopena,” .... Puss in the Corner, .... “ Simon Says,” .... “ Stir the Batter,” .... Twirling the Platter, - FIRESIDE MAGIC, - Boiled Egg, - Burning Iron, - Candle Trick, Colored Flames, Creeping into a Pint Pot, Easy Tricks, - Fire on Ice, - Fire on Anything, - Glass of Water, - Hat Measuring, Invisible Writing, Magic Circle, - Magic Milk, Nickel Trick, - Nut Trick, - Shadowy Pantomime, Singular, but True, Soon Tired, Watch Trick, 352 352 352 352 352 3.53 353 353 353 353 354 354 3.54 354 3.54 354 355-358 - 3.55 - 355 - 355 - 355 - 3.55 - 356 - 356 - 356 - 356 - 356 - 356 - 357 - 357 - 357 - 357 - 357 - 358 - 358 - 358 GYMNASTICS CISES, - Climbing, Egg- Hat, - Hoops, - Toll, - Encounters, Musical Hoops, “ I spy I,’ AND OUT-DOOR EXER- 358-362 358 359 359 359 359 359 359 Jumping, 359 Jumping the Rope, - Kites, Leaping, Leap-Frog, Running, .... See-Saw, - - - . Sucker, .... Swimming, ... Vaulting, .... Walking, “ Whoop,” .... Innocent Amusements, - Saturday Afternoon, a poem. ETIQUETTE CONDENSED. What is Etiquette.^ The Value of Etiquette, - 359 360 360 360 360 360 361 361 361 362 362 362 362 365 365 H TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. The True Gentleman, 366 He is not always Dressed in Broadcloth, - 366 What to Do, 367 Be Natural, 367 Be Honest, ....... 367 Be Consistent, 367 Be Kind in Little Things, . - . . 367 Be Polite, 367 Be Sociable, 368 Be Punctual, 368 Minor Points, 368 What to Avoid, 368 Falsehood, 368 Pride, 368 Interfering with Others’ Affairs, - - - 369 Showing Ill-temper, 369 V ulgarity, 369 Swearing, 369 Tattling, 369 Talking About Yourself, .... 370 Envy, 370 Disputation, ...... 370 Minor Points, 370 Conversation, ------- 370 Kind Words, 370 Small Talk, 371 How to Dress, 371 The Lady’s Emblematic Toilet, - - - 371 Table Manners, 372 Home Politeness for Little Folks, - - - 372 Letter Writing, - - 373 The Busy Bees of Etiquette, - - - - 374 CURIOSITIES OF LITERATURE. PECULIARITIES OF OUR LANGUAGE, 377-381 Languages and Alphabets, ... - 377 Number of Letters in Various Alphabets, - 377 Origin of the Language, - . - - 378 Analysis of English Words, . - - - 378 Semitic Languages, 378 Aryan, Languages, ------ 378 How Many Words We Use, - - - - 379 Proportion of the Commonest Woi-ds in 30,000, 379 Relative Frequency of the Letters, - - 379 Scope of the Language, 380 Difficulties of the Language, - - - - 380 The Same Idea in Many Words, - - - 380 The Same Letters Variously Pronounced, - 380 The Same Sound Differently Written, - - 380 Tricks of Speech, 381 “I Say,” 381 INGENIOUS COMBINATIONS, - 381-393 Play upon Words, 381 Echo, - . 382 Echo on Matrimony, a poem, - . - - 382 Marriage, 383 The House that Jack Built,Temperately Speaking, 383 A Printer’s Essay, 384 Essay on Want, 384 Something out of Nothing, - . - . 384 Threatened Sioux-eye-sighed, . . - . 384 A Precept Well Told, 385 How Does the Printer Live.? Answer — “The Devil Helps Him,” - The Song of the Decanter, The Wine Glass, Apt and Attractive Alliterations, An Alphabetical Analysis of Contents, Siege of Belgrade, a poem. Age Bluntly Considered, a poem, - Bunker Hill Bepraised, .... A Swarm of B’s, - Biblical B’s, Poetic Patchwork, Life, What is Man.? Genevieve, A Curiosity of Transposition, Difficulties in Rhyming, .... Words Without Rhymes, .... Lines to a Pretty Barmaid, Timbuctoo, Rhyming Difficulties Overcome, A Nocturnal Sketch, a poem. The Rivers and Lakes of Maine, a poem, - The House that Jack Built — on Stilts, a poem, Latin Freely Translated, .... Popular Similes in Rhyme, a poem, - 385 385 - 385 386 - 386 386 - 386 386 - 387 387 - 387 387 - 387 388 - 388 389 - 389 389 - 389 389 - 390 390 - 391 392 - 392 393 CHANGES IN THE LANGUAGE, Changes Illustrated, The Lord’s Prayer — a. d. 700, “ “ “ A. D. 900, - “ “ “ A. D. 1258, “ “ “ A. D. 1300, - Wickliffe’s Version, about a. d. 1530, The Lord’s Prayer — a. d. 1582, - “ “ “ A. D. 1611, Bill of Lading, A. d. 1773, 393-395 394 - 394 394 ■ 394 - 394 - 395 - 395 - 395 - 395 AIDS TO CORRECT COMPOSITION, 395-400 Leading Principles, 395 Laws of Language, 396 Canons of Composition, 396 Repetition, - - - 396 Redundancy, 396 Tautology 396 Circumlocution, 397 Ambiguity, 397 Misplacement, 397 Indirectness, » - - 397 Involution, 397 Profundity, 398 Bombast, 398 “ High-Falutin,” 398 Punctuation, 398 Varieties of Method, 399 How Shall we Print.? 399 A Pointless Paragraph, - - - -. - 399 The Same Pointed, 399 Without Spaces, 399- The Usual Way, 399 A New Method, 399 MISCELLANEOUS GLEANINGS, 400-403 A Quaint Sermon, 400 Alphabetical Advice, 400 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 15 PAGE. Johnny’s Composition — The Horse, - - - 401 Why Do 1 Go to School.^ .... ^02 Seven Ways of Saying Yes, .... 402 The Mystified Quaker, a poem, - - - 403 Notliing Perfect, a poem, 403 THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. NATURE OF THE GOVERNMENT, The National Government, Legislative Department, The Senate, The House of Representatives, - Powers and Functions of Congress, . The Executive, ..... Powers of the President, The Judiciary, or Courts of Justice, Court of Impeachment, - The Supreme Court, - - - - Circuit Courts, .... District Courts, Court of Claims, .... The State Governments, The Territories, Anomalous Governments, District of Columbia, Indian Territory, .... Alaska, - Distribution of Government in the U. S., Reserved Rights of Citizens, 407-413 • 407. 407 - 408 408 - 408 409 409 409. 409 410 410 410 410 410 41 1 411 411 411 411 412 413 A SUMMARY OF ITS HISTORY, 413-426 Brief Chronology of Antecedent Events, - - 413 Discoveries, ...... Discoveries, Conquests and Settlements, - 413 Permanent British Settlements, - - - 414 Self-government and Union, .... 41^, The Mutterings of the Storm, - - - 415 Birth of the Nation, and Struggle for Independ- ence, 1776-82, 416 The Formative Period, 1783-9, - - - . ^16 Washington’s Administration, 1789-97, - - 417 John Adams’s Administration, 1791-1801, - - 417 Jefferson’s Administration, 1801-9, ■ ' * 418 Madison’s Administration, 1809-17, - - - 418 The Nation’s Rank Vindicated, 1812-15, - 419 Monroe’s Administration, 1817-25, - - - 419 John Quincy Adams’s Administration, 1825-9, 420 Jackson’s Administration, 1829-37, - - - 420 Van Buren’s Administration, 1837-41, - - 421 Harrison’s and Tyler’s Administi-ation, 1841-5, - 421 Polk’s Administration, 1845-9, - - - 421 Taylor’s and Fillmore’s Administration, 1849-53, 4^2 Pierce’s Administration, 1853-7, ' " ■ 422 Buchanan’s Administration, 1857-61, - - - 422 Lincoln’s Administration, 1861-5, ‘ " ■ 423 Lincoln’s and Johnson’s Administration, 1865-9, 424 Grant’s Administration, 1869-77, - - - 424 Anniversaries in the Centennial Year, - - 425 POLITICAL REFERENCE TABLES, 426-440 i Signers of the Declaration of Independence, - 426 | Signers of the Articles of Confederation, - 427 | Signers of the Constitution, .... ^28 Ratification of the Constitution by the Original States, ' . . . ^28 Ratification of Constitutional Amendments I. to XV., Presidents and Vice-presidents of the United States, ---... Candidates for the Presidency, with the Popular and Electoral Votes, etc., ... Presidents Pro Tern, of the Senate, Speakers of the House of Representatives, Membership of the House, and Ratio to Popu lation, ........ Chief Justices of the Supreme Court, Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, - Secretaries of State and of the Treasury, Secretaries of War, Generals-in-Chief of the Army, Secretaries of the Navy, ..... Postmasters-general, Attorneys-general, Secretaries of the Interior, .... Salaries of United States Officials, The States and Territories, .... The Seceding States, ..... The States, - - What Constitutes a State, a poem. 428 - 429 430 43 « 432 432 433 433 434 43.S 43.? 436 436 437 437 437 438 438 439 439 ONE HUNDRED YEARS’ PROGRESS, 440-447 What a Century Has Brought Forth, - - 440 Then and Now, 440 Secresy and Exclusiveness, 441 Increase of Comforts, ..... 441 Improved Facilities, 442 Multiform Growth, ..... 442 Extent of the United States, .... 44^ Acquisition of Territory, .... 44-^ When, How and How Much Acquired, - - 444 The Great Lakes, 444 What Has Been Done With the Public Domain, 445 Distribution of Lands, 445 Homesteads and Homesteaders, .... 446 The Growth of the Country, .... 447 Productions, 447 Great Enterprises, - - - - - - 447 STATISTICAL REFERENCE TABLES, 448-456 Growth of Population, 448 Population 63' Races in 1870, and Estimate for 1880, 449 Population and Illiterac}' by Sexes, and Illiterate Voters in 1870, with the Presidential Vote in 1872, 450 Statistics of Education, 451 Agricultural Products, etc., in 1870, - - 452 Imports and Exports in 1873, - . - - - 452 Transfer of Specie and Bullion in 1873, - - 452 Receipts, Expenditures and Debt of the U. S., - 453 Price of Gold since the Suspension of Specie Payment, 453 Postoffice Statistics, 454 Debts of the States, 454 Railroads, - 454 Industries and Wealth of the Country, - - 455 Exemption, Limitation and Interest, - - 456 CURIOSITIES OF UNITED STATES HIS- TORY, 457-478 Memorable Incidents, 457 ILL USTRA TIONS. l 6 Office- holding Extraordinary, Eleven Rebellions, . - - . First Declaration of Independence, The Beginning of the Union, The First American Revolution, - Happenings in April, - - - Friday in Our History, - American Newspapers, American Newspapers of Today, - Yankee, Brother Jonathan, . - - - Uncle Sam, . . . - Significance of the Names of States, Mottoes of the States, Geographical Nicknames, States and Territories, Natives of States and Territories, Nicknames of Cities, The New Haven Blue Laws, - Macaulay’s Tribute to the Puritans, - The United States and England, The Wages of American Labor, American Wonders, Niagara Falls, Where Gold is Found, The Dome of the Capitol, - Bees in the United States, United States Coinage, The Goddess of Liberty, The Dollar Mark — $, American Inventions Abroad, Losses by Fire, - - - - - The Weather Divisions and Storms, Are We in Danger? - - - . The Future of America, - - - My Country, a poem, - - - - America, a poem, - - . . Columbia, a poem, . . . . 458 - 458 4.S9 - 459 460 - 461 461 - 462 463 - 463 464 - 464 465 - 465 466 - 466 466 - 466 467 - 468 468 - 470 471 - 472 472 ' 473 473 - 473 473 - 474 474 - 474 474 - 475 476 - 477 477 - 478 PAGE. GENERAL REFERENCE TABLES. THE WORLD, 481-487 How Baily Weighed the Earth, - - - 481 The Nations, with their Dependencies, etc., 482-485 Population of the Cities of the World Having Over 100,000 Inhabitants, - - - 486 A Trip Around the World, - - - . ^86 Difference in Time Between Washington and Other Cities, ------ .^87 ^ir-Line Distances from Washington to Various Parts of the World, - - . . - 487 Distances by Water from New York to Various Parts of the World, 487 VALUES, WEIGHTS, MEASURES, ETC., 488-494 Gold and Silver Moneys of the World, - 488-9 The Metric System, 490 Linear or Long Measure, - - - - Square or Surveyor’s Measure, - - - 491 Cubic Measure and Measures of Capacity, - 491 Weights, 491 Dry Measure, per bushel, 492 To Measure the Capacity of Granaries, etc., - 492 To Measure Corn on the Floor, - - - - 492 Weights of Liquids, per gallon, - - - 492 To Measure Wells or Cisterns, - - - - 492 To Measure Casks or Barrels, - - - 492 To Measure Hay, 492 Relative Values of Various Feeds, - - 492 Weight of Cattle, 492 The Unit of Weight, 492 Relative Values and Weights of Woods, - - 493 Relative Values and Specific Gravities of Metals, 493 Weight of a Cubic Foot of Various Substances, 493 Duration of Animal Life, 493 Trials of Speed, Strength, Skill and Endurance, 494 Assumed Names in Literature, - • - 495-7 Illustrations. Races of Mankind — full page, - - - - 18 From the Cradle to the Grave, * ■ • 37 The Human Skeleton, 43 Upper and Lower Surfaces of brain, - - 45 Breathing and Digestive Organs, - - - 48 Organs of Circulation, 50 Section of the Heart, - 51 Section of Stomach and Duodenum, - - 52 The Muscular Man, 53 Section of Skin, 54 Section of the Eye, 55 Muscles of the Eye, 56 Inversion of Objects, 56 Front View of Organ of Hearing, • - - 56 Small Bones of the Ear, 57 Cochlea Laid Open, 57 Health a Result of Exercise — full page, - - 116 The Two Careers, 150 The Victim, 152 The Deluge — full page, - - - . - 188 The Astronomer Computing the Calendar — full page, 226 Moses on the Mount — full page, - - - 274 Temperance — full page, 306 The Swindler “ Forging” his Chains — full page, 318 Pleasure vs. Profit — full page, - - - 328 Politeness in Y outh — full page, - - - 3^4 Literature in the Workshop — full page, - 37^ The Capitol at Washington — full page, - - 406 Weights and Measures — full page, - - 480 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE NATURAL HISTORY OF MAN. AN’S recognized place in na- ture is at the head of all orders, classes and divisions of anima- ted beings, apparently the com- pletion and crown of them all. Naturalists give many and somewhat different classifications of the Ani- mal Kingdom, but the following table will exhibit the chief points of difference, and the gradual elevation of the type of animal life throughout the whole series; THE ANIMAL KINGDOM. (Commencing -with the lowest). SUB-KINGDOMS OR DIVISIONS. I. Protozoa — First- living things, or lowest ^ form of animal life. II. Radiat A— Radi- ates, that is, with the parts arranged around a ’ common center or axis. CLASSES OR SUBDIVISIONS. I. Amoeba, sponges, pro- teus, etc. They have no mouth, and no distinct members, but are capa- ble of making many changes in their form. 1. Coral animals, sea- anemones, etc. 2. Jelly-fishes, sea-nettles. 3. Star-fishes, sea-urchins. IV. Articulata — Articulates, that is, ani- mals having the body and members jointed, but without an internal skeleton. V. Vertebrata — Vertebrates, that is, an- imals that have a back- . bone, and an articulated or jointed skeleton. 1. Worms; as earth-worms, leeches, etc. 2. Crustaceans; as crabs, lobsters, etc. 3. Centipedes, etc. 4. Spiders, etc. 5. Beetles, butterflies, etc. 1. Fishes. 2. Reptiles, that is, creep- ing things; as turtles, frogs, snakes, lizards, etc. 3. Birds, that is, “Every winged fowl.” 4. Mammalia, that is, ani- mals with teats. . And this class, Mammalia, is further sub- divided into fourteen orders, of which the most distinctive (still ascending from the lower to the higher) are four, viz.: 1. Cetacea, that is, of the whale tribe. 2. Quadrupeds, that is, four-footed animals generally. 3. Quadrumana, that is, four-handed ; as the gorilla, chimpanzee, ape and monkey. 4. Bimana, that is, two-handed ; of which the only representative is man. III. Mollusca — Mollusks, that is, soft- bodied, without joints, and without vertebrae. ^ I. Bryozoa, that is, moss- animals ; as sea - mats, white sea-weeds, etc. 2. Brachiopods, that is, with arm-feet, or spiral appendages; as the lin- gulae, spirifers, etc. 3. Ascidians, that is, pouch- like; as salpae, etc. 4. Acephals, that is, head- less ; as oysters, etc. 5. Cephalates, that is, with heads; as snails, etc. 6. Cephalopods, that is, with heads and feet, or, more strictly, tentacles. But man is again subdivided, by reason of difference of color, of the formation of the facial angle, and other characteristics, into races. THE RACES OF MANKIND. There is still much diversity of opinion amongst scientists as to the best classification of the races of mankind. Linnjeus, the Swedish pioneer naturalist of the first half of the last century, gives five : American, Eu- ropean, Asiatic, African, and Men of Preter- natural Formation! Buffon, his F rench contemporary, the great 20 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. THE FIVE RACES OF MAN. “high-priest and interpreter of Nature,” also settled on five, viz.: Hyperborean -Tartar, Southern Asiatic, European, Ethiopian, American. Earlier, he had preferred six, distinguishing Hyperboreans from Tartars. Blumenbach, the German naturalist of the second half of the last century, “the first who placed natural history on a scientific basis — comparative anatomy,” — agrees with BuflTon, only calling Hypei'borean-Tartar, Mongolian; and Southern Asiatic, Malay. Baron Cuvier, the great French naturalist of the early part of the present century, gives only three races: Caucasian, Mongolian and Ethiopian; assigning the Malays and Red Men, or Americans, to the Mongolian. Dr. Pickering, the American naturalist and tra'veler, who was a member of the United States exploring expedition of 1838-42, claims to “ have seen in all eleven races of men”; and fui'ther says, “there is, I con- ceive, no middle ground between the admis- sion of eleven distinct species in the human family, and the reduction to one.” St. Vin- cent gives fifteen; and Desmoulins, sixteen. Dr. Latham, of England, perhaps the great- est of living ethnologists, gives only three races, viz.: Mongolidae, Atlantidas, and Jape- tid*; but these he divides and subdivides to the number of about fifty. Of the Mongol- idse he gives seven branches, viz.: Altaic, Dioscui'ian (Georgians, etc.). Oceanic, Hyper- borean, Peninsular (Coreans, etc.), American and Indian (East Indians, etc.) ; of the Atlan- tidas, seven, viz.: Negro, Kaffir, Hottentot, Nilotic, Amazirgh, Egyptian and Semitic; and of the Japetidae, two, viz.: Kelts (Celts) and Indo-Germanic ; this last embracing the Greeks, Latins, Goths, Teutons and Slavo- nians, as well as Persians, Armenians, etc. Following the opinion of many eminent anthropologists who consider Blumenbach’s classification the most convenient, we subjoin a table of The Five Races, according to his method, with their subdivisions and habitats : I. The Caucasian, Indo-European, Indo-Ger- MANic OR Aryan Race. It is called by all these names, but the last is fast superseding the others in common use. It comprises seven families: I. Persic, Iranian or Caucasian proper, whose habitat is Persia, Armenia, Georgia and Circassia. 3. Celtic, very wide-spread twenty-five hundred years ago throughout central and western Europe, but now chiefly represented by feeble remnants in Brittany, Wales, Scottish Highlands and Ireland. 3. Germanic, including Anglo-Saxons of England and America, besides several subdivisions of the Germans proper. ' 4. Arabic, mostly in Arabia. 5. Libyan, mostly in North Africa. 6. Nilotic or Egyptian, in the Valley of the Nile. 7. Indie or Hindu, in India. II. The Mongolian Race. It is subdivided into five families: 1. Chinese, in China. 2. Indo-Chinese, in Chin-India or India beyond the Ganges, that is, Burmah, Siam, etc. 3. Polar, that is, Samoyeds, Esquimaux, etc. 4. Mongol-Tartar, in Mongolia, Turkestan, etc. 5. Turk, in Turkish Empire. III. The Ethiopian Race. Subdivided into five families: 1. Negro, in Africa. 2. Kaffir, in Africa. 3. Hottentot, and Bushman, in Africa. 4. Australian, in Australia. 5. Alfoorian, the inferior races of the Malay Archi- pelago or East India Islands. IV. The Malay Race. Two families: 1. Malay Proper, in the Malay Peninsula and Archipelago. 2. Polynesians, in Tahiti, Samoa, Tonga and other islands of Polynesia. , V. The American Race. Two families: 1. American Indians. 2. Toltecs and Aztecs, of Mexico. NATURAL HISTORY OF MAN. 21 1 CHIEF DISTINCTIVE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE FIVE RACES. MENTAL. PHYSICAL. KACli,. RELIGIOUS. INTELLECTUAL AND SOCIAL. OF THE SKULL, FACE AND FEATURES. OF THE HAIR AND SKIN. White OK Aryan In its Semitic branch it has been, through the Jews and Arabs, the great teacher ofthe Unity of the Godhead ; other- wise, polytheis- tic, with an exu- berant mythology common in the main features to all its branches. Is possessed of the highest grade of intellect — endowed with the greatest facility of all the races in attaining knowledge. And as “ knowledge is power,” it is also the most progressive, and has exercised the greatest and most continuous influence ori the affairs of mankind at least within the historic period ; nor does it evince any symptoms of decay, but is on the contrary daily achieving new triumphs. Skull — Generally doiicho-cepha- lie, that is, longer from front to back than from side to side, but only to a moderate extent ; large and oval, with high frontal development, and great capacity. Face — Oval; small relatively to skull; moderately broad ; rarely flat. Features — Nose arched and gen- erally prominent; eyes horizontal, with indes black, brown, gray or blue; maxillary profile nearly verti- cal; lips generally thin. Skin — White or brunette, smooth, soft, and suscepti- ble of various tints. Hair — Fine and long, tending to curl, and varying in color from blonde to black. Beard — Abun- dant. Y ELLOW, Mongolian OR Turanian Polytheistic, but with a marked feature in the ex- traordinary rever- ence or worship paid to ancestors; and the unwilling- ness to depart from the ancient landmarks of their peculiar su- perstitions. Fairly intellectual and moderately ingenious, but mainly in the direc- tion of the necessaries or conven- iences of life ; not in the higher regions of science or philosophy. Progressive to a limited extent, with the same restrictions as are assigned to its intellectual efforts. Skull — Brachy-cephalic, that is, relatively shorter from front to back, or oblong-oval, a little flattened at the sides, with a low and slightly retreating forehead. Face — Broad and flat; round rather than oval ; cheek-bones prominent laterally. Features — Nose broad and short, eyes obliquely set, generally with dark irides ; maxillary (jawbone) pro- file moderately projecting ; broad, retreating chin. Skin — Tawny, or yellowish ; rare- ly either a true white or jet-black ; “always sufficient- ly light to show a flush, and in the far north decided- ly florid.’* Hair — Long, straight and lank ; generally dark, rarely light. Beard — Scant or absent. Black, Ethiopian ■ OR Negro Polytheistic in the most degraded form. In their lowest condition they evince a striking tendency to Feticism, or the worship of any object their ca- pricious fancy may suggest. Rather imitative than intellectual, but perhaps owing to lack of oppor- tunity as much as to any innate de- ficiency; with a marked natural talent for music. Have been, and still are, mostly sunk in barbarism, and are scarcely to be considered a progres- sive race. Have exercised no influ- ence on the progress of humanity. Skull — Is in a marked degree dolicho-cephalic, that is, relatively long from front to back, and narrow from side to side ; forehead low and much retreating. Face — Almost oval, the top, how- ever, approaching a horizontal line; cheek-bones prominent. Features — Nose broad and flat; eyes horizontal and large, with black irides; maxillary profile projecting; lips thick, full and rolling; chin broad and small. Skin — Black, oily and glossy. Hair — Crisp, black and woolly; inextricably curly, but very rarely straight, and never light-color- ed, except in the abnormal Albinos. Beard — Scant, and sometimes en- tirely wanting. Brown or . Malay In the normal state they have little or no reli- gion, or only such as would be desig- nated a debased superstition; they are passionate, treacherous, and vindictive; but the more civilized por-, tion have long since been con- verted to Moham- medism. Of fair intellectual powers, capa- ble of amassing wealth by commerce, and with some skill in the arts ; they have not made any great progress in the historic period. They are, how- ever, an ancient race, ana may have had somewhat more to do with the affairs of mankind in prehistoric times. Skull — Fairly well-proportioned, with good frontal development, even more vertical than in the white race. Face — Oval, not inferior in its best types to the European, with high cheek-bones. Features — Nose generally short and rather flat; eyes large and dark; eyelids slightly turnea up at the outer corner; lips rather thicker than in the European ; mouth large. Skin — A black- ish brown, darker than the Chinese, and yet not so dark as the Aryan Hindoo. Hair — Long, dark, shining, coarse and straight. Beard — Scant or absent. Red or American ' Their religion is a worship of the powers of Nature, with an explicit recognition of the Great Spirit. Of small intellectual power ; and slow in acquiring knowledge. “Are averse to cultivation ; restless, re- vengeful and warlike.** Have exer- cised no influence on the progress of mankind or the history of the world, except what little may have apper- tained to the now extinct Toltecs, Aztecs, and the Peruvians under their Incas. Skull — Meso-cephalic, or me- dium-headed; square, with fore- head low and broad ; back of head flattened, and top elevated. Face — Too broad and full to be strictly oval, and well developed, but not markedly angular. Features — Nose broad but prominent; eyes deeply set, with Slack irides ; lips full. Skin — “ Red,” or rather cinna- mon - hued, but varying consider- ably from the dark brown of the Cali- fornia tribes to the light-colored Mandans of the Missouri river. Hair — Lon g, black and wavy. Beard — Gene- rally scant. 22 CURIOSITIES OR HUMAN LIFE. THE ELEVEN Pickering. White Brown . Black- Brown Black 1. Arabian... -j 2. Ahyssmian | 3. Mo7igolia7i.. 4. Hottentot., -j $. Malay 6. Papuaji - -- -j 7. Negrillo... •< 8. Indian.. g. Ethiopian. 10. Australian j 11. Negro - PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS. Nose prominent, lips thin, beard abundant, hair straight, flowing. Complexion hardly florid, nose prominent, hair crisped. Beardless, hair straight and long. Negro features, hair woolly, sta- ture small. Features not prominent in profile, complexion darker, hair straight and flowing. Features same as No. 5, beard abundant, hair crisped or frizzled Beardless, features Negro, hair woolly, stature small. Features Arabian, hair straight or flowing. Features between the Indian and Negro, hair crisped. Negro features, hair straight or flowing. Hair woolly, nose flat, lips thick. THE FIVE RkC.^^.-After Figiiier. White Yellow . Black .. Mixed .. Brown .. Red. races. branches. I. European - II. Aramean - I. Hyperborean. - II. Mongolian.. ^ III. Sinaic - I. Hindoo - II. Ethiopian - III. Malay - I. Souther Ji -■ II. Norther 71 - I. Western II. Easter 77 - Everywhere 1. Teutonic .. 2. Latin 3. Slavonian . 4. Greek 1. Libyan 2. Semitic 3. Persian 4. Georgian __ 4. Circassian . . Lapp . Samoiede . Kamtschadale - . Esquimaux . Temisian Jukaghirite, etc. . Mongol . Tungusian . Yakut . Turkish . Chinese . Japanese . Indo-Chinese.. . Hindoo . Malabar.. , Abyssinian , , Fellan - , Malay , Polynesian ... , Micronesian .. , Andean , Pampean . Guarany..! . Southern , Northeastern.. , Northwestern _ , Caffre -i . Hottentot . Negro L , Papuan , Andaman J Half-Breeds, etc. NUMBERS. Rcnmdly Estwiated. 550,000,000 528,000,000 75.000. 000 11,500,000 152.000. 000 11,500,000 MAN’S PREEMINENCE. “Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor.” — Bible. Man is formed for an upright position, admirably adapted to permit the free use of his two arms, to which are affixed hands of exquisite structure, as instruments that, di- rected by his mental power, give him a supe- riority over all the other inhabitants of the world, and, connected with his capacity of communicating his ideas to his fellows by the variations of sound, for which his organ of voice is consummately formed, place him at an immeasurable distance above them. His constitution also adapts itself to every climate, and he is found the same superior creature wherever he exists; yet man is in himself a defenseless being — no other animal is so desti- tute of instinct; no other i-emains so long in a state of infantile weakness; his powers but begin to develope when his reason and obser- vation begin to act, and that only after years of maternal care. MAN. H OW poor, how rich, how abject, how august. How complicate, how wonderful, is man ! How passing wonder He who made him such! Who centred in our make such strange extremes. From different natures marvellously mixed. Connection exquisite of distant worlds I Distinguished link in being’s endless chain ! Midway from nothing to the Deity ! A beam ethereal, sullied and absorpt! Though sullied and dishonored, still divine! Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust ! Helpless immortal ! insect infinite ! A worm! a God! — I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home, a stranger. Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How reason reels ! O, what a miracle to man is man!. Triumphantly distressed! What joy! what dread! Alternately transported and alarmed ! What can preserve my life.? or what destroy.? An angel’s arm can’t snatch me from the grave; Legions of angels can’t confine me there. — Young: Night Thoughts. C NATURAL IIISTORT OF MAN. 23 MAN’S ORIGIN AND EARLY CONDITION. “ So God created man in his “When rude animals, men, own image, in the image ofGod crawled forth upon the earth, created he him; male and fc- a mute and hlthy herd.” male created he them.” — Hokace, Satire I, 3:99. —Genesis 1 : 27. ..rm 1 ^ ..1 ' “ They knew not as yet liow “And the Lord God formed to employ fire in the prepara- man [Adam] of the dust of the tion of things, or how to use ground, and breathed into his skins, or how to clothe their nostrils the breath of life; and bodies in the spoils of wild man became a living soul.” beasts ; but dwelling in woods, — Ibid, 2:7. and caves, and the hollows of ^ ^ , hills, when they sought to cs- ball of Adam. , , r • , 2 blows of the wind, or the rain, hid their squalid limbs “In Adam all die.” under the thicker shrubs.” I Corinth., 15:22. Lucretius, Book 5:954. ORIGIN. Was it by special creation, as indicated by- the Bible; or, by evolution, from a type of anthrojDomorphic mammal now lost, and gen- ericallv related to apes, gorillas, and monkeys? The latter opinion may for the present at least be regarded as not proved ; and the time- honored belief that he is the result of a spe- cial creation continues to receive the support of all but a small minority of mankind. PRIMEVAL CONDITION. The above quotations mark diametrically opposite opinions as to the primitive condi- tion of man, the one implying original inno- cence — a golden age ; the other a condition of original rudeness, from which he has by labo- rious and long-continued efforts emerged, in the most favorable circumstances, to the civili- zation and refinement of to-day. The idea of a primitive golden age is found in the Bibles or sacred books, in the mythologies, and in the early poetry of the nations of an- tiquity; but the theory of primeval rudeness and a gradual advancement to higher condi- tions has generally characterized the teach- ings of the philosophers, ancient and modern. Both are, however, reconcilable by supplying an intermediate stage, thus: First, innocence; second, fall and consequent degradation; third, restoration. This is substantially the common view of Christendom. “We will not attempt to decide the question whether the races, at present termed savage, are all in a condition of original wildness; or whether, as the structure of their language often allows us to conjecture, many among them may not be tribes that have degenerated into a wild state, remaining as scat- tered fragments of a civilization that was early lost.” — Humboldt. THE FIVE “ages” of HESIOD. I. The Golden — Simple, patriarchal, virtuous. II. The Silver — Corrupted, voluptuous, godless. III. The Brazen — Wild, warlike, violent. IV. The Heroic — Brave, aspiring, godlike. V. The Iron — Unjust, impious, faithless. Ovid has but four, omitting the Heroic. MAN’S BIRTHPLACE. The preponderance of opinion seems to favor the unity of the human race; and that however diversified we find men, they sprang from one center, somewhere in the Highlands of Upper Asia. But here we are at once confronted with the time-problem, and are at a loss to conjecture how many thousand years must have been required to produce the trans- formations of organism and color that have characterized, without sensible modification, the different existing races of mankind since the dawn of the historic period. Five thou- sand years ago the negro was as marked a divergence from the white man as he is to-day. ANTIQUITY OF MAN. At what time, that is, how many years ago, did man appear upon the earth, is, in the present state of scientific investigation, very uncertain. Scientists, however, seem suffi- ciently agreed that he was contemporary with certain species of mammals now extinct; and there is some slight evidence that he may have existed in the tertiary (geological) epoch ; but when it is attempted to define in years when he appeared, all that can safely be said is, that hitherto the task has been found impracticable. 24 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. CREATION OF ADAM. About one hundred and fifty different dates are assigned to this event by Christian writers, varying from the “ about 20,000 years ” of Bunsen (which is scarcely a date), or the b. c. 6984 of the Alfonsine Tables to the b. c. 4004 of Ussher. It has been well inferred from this fact that the Sacred Scriptures were not meant to be a guide to chronology. That the Short Chronology of Ussher, despite its favorable acceptance for the last two hundred years, must be abandoned, does not admit of a serious doubt; but the longer one, of the Septuagint Version, which has largely replaced it amongst later writers, will probably be found too short also, and will in turn be abandoned ; for, as has been well said in the Revue des Deux Mondes^ “ What can we do against the concurring lists furnished by Manetho, Eratosthenes, the Turin Papy- rus, and the Egyptian Tablets of Abydos, Thebes, and Sakkara?” and, it might be added, against the results of modern archae- ology ? It is to be remembered that the six thousand years since Adam is merely a calcu- lation of the commentators, and has no pre- tension to being inspired. “ What we usually term the beginning of history,” says Humboldt, “ is only the period when the later generations awoke to self- consciousness ” ; and the remark can be well extended to all chronological systems. The various efforts to give chronological sequence to the primitive and necessarily obscure tra- ditions of antiquity, can be readily shown, from their cyclical character, to have been in every instance the self-confessed afterthought of the comparatively recent compilers — their methods of bridging over the assumed dura- tion of man’s existence on the earth. What helps to strengthen this inference is, that allowing for the variation of cycles, accord- ing to the customs of different nations, the elements of calculation are substantially the same in all the systems. THE AGES OF THE ARCH>EOLOGISTS. I. The Stone Age The Old, or Unpolished. The New, or Polished. ( The Bronze, preceded in some II. The Metal Age places by the Copper. ( The Iron. These ages are not to be understood as contemporaneous in the different parts of the earth, as some countries had certainly learned the use of metals several thousand years before Christ, while some uncivilized races, like the American Indians in their normal state, are still in the Stone Age. An attempt has been made to compute the antiquity of man upon the basis of these ages, but such calculations lack some essen- tial elements of being entitled to acceptance, except as mere conjectural approximations. The result thus obtained is that man has been upon the earth at least twice the six thousand years of the common chronology. MANKIND PROGRESSIVE. “Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs. And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.” — ^Tennyson. The now generally received opinion, that, whether starting from an inborn rude condi- tion, or a sin-depraved and punitive state of decadence, the career of mankind has be^n, on the whole, progressing onward and up- ward, is ably and eloquently sketched in the following extract from that great master of generalization, the historian Gibbon: “The discoveries of ancient and modern naviga- tors, and the domestic history, or tradition, of the most enlightened nations, represent the human savage naked both in mind and body, and destitute of laws, of arts, of ideas, and almost of language. From this abject condition — perhaps the primitive and universal state of man — he has gradually risen to command the animals, to fertilize the earth, to traverse the ocean, and to measure the heavens. His progress in the improvement and exercise of his mental and corporeal faculties has been irregular and various; infinitely slow in the beginning, and increasing by degrees with redoubled velocity : ages of laborious ascent NATURAL HISTORY OF MAN. 25 have been followed by a moment of rapid downfall; and the several climates of the globe have felt the vicissitudes of light and darkness. Yet the experi- ence of four thousand years should enlarge our hopes, and diminish our apprehensions: we cannot deter- mine to what height the human species may aspire in their advances toward perfection ; but it may safely be presumed that no people, unless the face of nature is changed, will relapse into their original barbarism. The improvements of society may be viewed under a threefold aspect, i. The poet or philosopher illus- trates his age and country by the efforts of a single mind; but these superior powers of reason or fancy are rare and spontaneous productions ; and the genius of Homer, or Cicero, or Newton, would excite less admiration, if they could be created by the will of a prince, or the lessons of a preceptor. 2. The benefits of law and policy, of trade and manufactures, of arts and sciences, are more solid and permanent; and many individuals may be qualified, by education and discipline, to promote, in their respective stations, the interest of the community. But this general order is the effect of skill and labor; and the complex machinery may be decaj'ed by time or injured by violence. 3. Fortunately for mankind, the more use- ful, or, at least, more necessary arts, can be performed without superior talents, or national subordination ; without the powers of one or the union of many. Each village, each family, each individual, must always possess both ability and inclination to perpet- uate the use of fire and of metals; the propagation and service of domestic animals; the methods of hunting and fishing; the rudiments of navigation; the imperfect cultivation of corn, or other nutritive grain ; and the simple practice of the mechanic trades. Private genius and public industry may be extirpated ; but these hardy plants survive the tempest, and strike an everlasting root into the most unfavora- ble soil. The splendid days of Augustus and Trajan were eclipsed by a cloud of ignorance ; and the bar- barians subverted the laws and palaces of Rome. But the scythe, the invention or emblem of Saturn, still continued annually to mow the harvests of Italy; and the human feasts of the Laestrigons have never been renewed on the coast of Campania. Since the first discovery of the arts, war, commerce, and relig- ious zeal have diffused, among the savages of the Old and New World, these inestimable gifts; they have been successively propagated; they can never be lost. We may therefore acquiesce in the pleasing conclusion, that every age of the world has increased, and still increases, the real wealth, the happiness, the knowledge, and perhaps the virtue, of mankind.” THE PRESENT AGE. The age in which we live has already, it is universally agreed, far surpassed all preceding ages in the liberality and impartiality with which its privileges are distributed amongst all classes; nor is the end yet. The masses of mankind are to-day sharers of the discove- ries of science, the beauties of literature and art, and the protection of the laws, to an extent hitherto unparalleled. The import- ance of the human being, in and of himself, irrespective of the accidents of birth or for- tune, is recognized as it never was before. The privileged classes of society are being compelled to recognize the value of those beneath them in the social scale; and man- kind is no longer engaged, as in the past, in vindicating the privileges of the few, but the rights of all, even the downtrodden and the lowly. The gulf so long existing between the privileged few and the oppressed many is being silently bridged over by the irresisti- ble influences of the age. Men are learning that the world is for all, not for the few; that all fill a place in the economy of the whole; and that the labor o*f the lowly is as indis- pensable to prosperity as the more pretentious work of the more exalted ; and that society is bound to care for all, and see that the strong do not oppress the weak. Indeed the noble utterance of the Declaration of Independence, that “All men are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of hap- piness,” is fast becoming the recognized basis of the progress of the age; and the prayer of Burns bids fair to be soon realized: “ Then let us pray that come it may, — As come it will for a’ that,— - That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth, May bear the gree, and a’ that. For a’ that, and a’ that, It’s coming yet, for a’ that, — When man to man, the warld o’er. Shall brothers be for a’ that.” CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 26 “THE GOOD OLD TIMES.” There is a sentimental longing in some quarters for the “good old times,” which, carried to a not uncommon excess, produces harm, for men imagine the world is dete- riorating; that a tidal wave of ignorance, misery and vice is sweeping over the world; and that they are but atoms, unable to do anything save drift with this deadly tide. They abandon any hopes of bettering the present or the future, sit down in dull inac- tion, so far as disinterested effort is concerned, and let their dreams of the golden age that has been prevent their striving for a new golden age in the present or the boundless future. This is not the view of most thinkers. Wit- ness Mill’s glowing picture, in the “Three Essays on Religion,” of the man of the fu- ture, inspired by the “religion of humanity.” Spencer is a constant and an exceedingly able advocate of the law of everlasting progress. Candolle mentions his arguments with deep respect. Draper, in the tenth chapter of his “History of the Conflict between Science and Religion,” supplies a mass of facts in regard to tbe bad old times, which have so long masqueraded as good, which are more substantial than philosophical reasoning, and more convincing to the average man. Let us see what those facts are: “The good old times of idyllic peace and inno- cence were marked, first, by terribly destructive wars, epidemics and plagues. Theological quar- rels and persecutions almost depopulated Northern Africa. The wars of Justinian made incredible in- roads on the people of Italy. Spanish barbarity killed 2,000,000 Mexicans, and swept Peru almost bare of life. England, thanks to war, bloody cruelty, sickness and misery, only barely doubled its popula- tion in five hundred years after the Norman con- quest. The normal rate of increase doubles popu- lation every fifty years. In the famine of 1030, human fiesh was cooked and sold. In 1258, fifteen thousand persons died of hunger in London, then a city of not more than one hundred thousand souls. .(Eneas Sylvius, afterward Pope Pius II., visited the British Isles in 1430, and has left a description of the condition of the common people at that time. They lived, he says, in huts built of stone without mortar, with turf roofs, with a dry bull’s hide for a door, without windows, with no chimneys, with clay floors. Some of them had never seen bread. They lived on coarse vegetables and on pulverized bark. Their scanty clothing swarmed with vermin. They were brutal in their habits. The condition of things in Paris and London for a thousand years before the Reformation was scarcely better. The houses were of wood, daubed with mud and thatched with clay or reeds. Dirty straw was the only car- pet. Domestic and human animals herded together in filth. A bag of straw and a wooden log were bed and pillow. Modesty and purity were impossible. Outside the houses, things were no better. The narrow, filthy streets, without sewers, drainage, or lamps, were filled with garbage and night-soil. Showers of slops fell on the wayfarer who walked through these afleys after night. “Michelet has said, with French exaggeration of an unclean h'uth ; ‘There was not a bath for a thou- sand years.’ King, courtier and slave vied with each other in dirtiness. When Thomas a’ Becket was murdered, his clothes were found to be full of ver- min. The ‘odor of sanctity’ at that age would de- mand disinfectants and boards of health now. “The good old times, thus rich in war, pestilence, famine, misery and dirt, were poor in the resources of the healing art. A sick man sought a shrine cure, not a physician. The first were everywhere, the latter almost nowhere. Some crusaders brought back to Europe two sovereign cures for all the ills flesh is heir to, — a bottle of the pretended milk of the Virgin, and a finger of the Holy Ghost! “The good old times, again, were times of utter insecurity. William of Malmesbury, speaking of the Anglo-Saxons, says : ‘ The common people were a prey to the more powerful ; their property was seized, their bodies dragged away to distant countries ; their maidens were either thrown into a brothel, or sold for slaves ; drinking, day and night, was the general pursuit; vices, the cottipanions of inebriety, fol- lowed.’ Every castle was the stronghold of a thief The ruins of robber towers still crowd the banks of the Rhine. “ Law, in the good old times, was the science of torture. The bed of justice was a rack. Thumb- screws tore truth and falsehood — more often the lat- ter — out by the roots of the nails. The shuddering visitor still sees in the subterranean cells of Nu- remberg the ‘Iron Virgin,’ a ghastly compound of knives, and spear-heads, and iron bars, which NATURAL II I STORY OF MAN. 27 ^ pierced and sqeezed its victim in its iron embrace until just enough life was left to let him feel the sharp blades which cut him to pieces as he fell into the bloody stream thirty feet below, — a stream which seems to shrink away from the earth’s sur- face, as if ashamed of the part it plays in this sick- ening drama of man’s inhumanity to man. “ The good old times, once more, were an era of utter selfishness. There were no hospitals, no char- itable organizations — unless the monastic nurseries of vice and hot-beds of lechery are entitled to that name — no brotherhood, no humanity, no philan- thropy. “ It is needless to add that the good old times were times of the darkest ignorance and the grossest superstition. In proportion as education advanced, the condition of the world became better. The lamp that burns in the human brain is the light which guides nations to civilization. The key to material growth is mental growth. It is by waging a relentless war against ignorance; by freventuig crime, attacking it with the schoolhouse instead of the jail ; by compelling parents to cease to deny their offspring the natural, inalienable right of in- struction, — it is by such means that modern society will finally reach the vicinity of the Millennium. In proportion as it has used these weapons, it has prospered in the struggle of life. When it uses them all, it will finally win the fight and usher in the good new times.” THE COMING AGE. Wendell Phillips once said, in a speech, that the time was coming: when we mig-ht communicate instantly with San Francisco without wires or operator. The audience laughed at him. Perhaps his statement is not so extravagant as it seemed. Had the ordinary work now done by the magnetic telegraph been predicted fifty years ago, it would have been received with the same incredulity. The truth is that science, like politics and love, always develops in unex- pected directions. No sooner are men fixed in their scientific ojoinions than some startling discovery reveals their ignorance, and shows the world that all things are possible under the sun. Ever since the invention of the use of steam, men have agreed that only hot vapor had the greatest jwwcr; but recently a Phil- adelphia machinist is said to have exhibited an iron globe, no larger than a gallon jug, full of cold vapor, showing a jircssure of twenty thousand pounds to the square inch, and neither time nor temperature could dimin- ish its tremendous power. The discovery is said to have been accidental. The inventor was experimenting with an engine run by compressed air and a vacuum, when to his profound astonishment he stumbled on the cold vapor secret, and it was some time be- fore he could make a gauge strong enough to test its power. Until then he had not im- agined such a discovery possible. Nature seems to coquet with the inquiring intellect of man until he is sure of some great secret, when she confounds him with disap- pointment ; but in his less inquisitive moments she reveals what he never dreamed of. Modern science is a paradox. Water, which was always considered the most in- eombustible matter in nature, produces the greatest heat known. The chemist prepares delicate muslin so that it can be cleansed by fire. Arsenic is prescribed for dangerous diseases. Frozen feet are saved by plunging them into snow. Children are told to keep away from iron during a thunder-storm, yet hardware stores ai'e never struck by light- ning. Persons suffering with hydrophobia go into convulsions at the sight of water; a French physician, however, has cured fifty cases of this awful malady with hot baths. An editor of a New York newspaper lost his sight until a surgeon put a knife into his eyeballs, whereupon the man recovered and went about his work. The wildest imagination is unable to pre- dict tbe discoveries of the future. For all we know, families in the next century may pump fuel from the river, and illuminate their houses with ice and electricity. Iron ves- sels, properlv magnetized, may sail through the air like balloons, and a trip to the Rocky 28 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. Mountains may be made in an hour. Per- haps within fifty years American grain may be shot into Liverpool and Calcutta through iron pipes laid under the sea. By means of condensed air and cold vapor engines, excur- sion parties may travel along the floor of the ocean, sailing past ancient wrecks and mount- ains of coral. On land the intelligent farmer may turn the soil of one thousand acres in a day, while his son cuts wood with a platinum wire, and shells corn by electricity. The mat- ter now contained in a New York daily may be produced twenty thousand times a minute, on little pieces of pasteboard, by improved photography; and boys may sell the news of the world printed on visiting cards, which their customers will read through artificial eyes. Five hundred years hence a musician may play a piano in New York, connected with instruments in San Francisco, Chicago, Cincinnati, New Orleans, and other cities, and when fashionable audiences in San Fran- cisco go to hear some renowned singer, she will be performing in New York, Boston, or Philadelphia. In 1900 a man may put on his inflated coat, with a pair of steel wings fastened to his arms, and go from New York to Chi- cago and back in an hour. All the great battles will be fought in the air. Patent thunderbolts will be used instead of cannon. A boy in Hoboken will go to Canada in the family air-carriage to see his sweetheart, and the next day his father will chasten him with a magnetic rebuker, because he did not return home before midnight. The time is coming when skillful miners will extract gold from quartz as easily as cider is squeezed from apples. A compound telescope will be in- vented on entirely new principles, so that one may see the planets as distinctly as we see the hills above us. Microscopes will be made so powerful that paidicles of dust on a gnat’s back will appear larger than Pike’s Peak. Marvelous progress will also be made in psychological and mental science. Two men will sit in baths filled with chemical fluids; one of them may be in Denver, and the other in Montreal; a pipe filled with the same liquid will connect the two vessels, and the fluid will be so sensitive that each man will know the other’s thoughts. In those days our present mode of telegraphy will be classed with the wooden plows of Egypt, and the people will look back to steamships and locomotives as we now look back to sail boats and stage coaches. WHAT IS MAN? Having in the foregoing pages considered man’s place in nature, the diflferent races and their chief characteristics, his probable birthplace, antiquity, pre-eminence, capabil- ity of progress, the goal he has already reached in the present age, what he was in the “ good old times,” and what he may be in the coming age, it will not be unacceptable to the reader to be presented, in addition, with the following graphic sketch from “Human Nature,” as a comprehensive, popu- lar and systematic answer to the query, “what is man?” “/« the language of Cosmology — Man is a part of the universe, subject to the various laws and princi- ples that regulate its action in its many spheres of phenomenal development. “/« the language of Anatomy — Man is an organized structure — a magnificent physical temple — a unique specimen of architecture, so beautiful in appearance, convenient in arrangement, and suitable in material, that to fulfill all the purposes of ornament and use, no improvement could be effected in it by the cun- ning and experience of the wisest designers. “/« the language of Physiology — Man is a bundle of functions ; an instrument of a thousand strings adapted to discourse music of the most exquisite har- mony, of the widest compass, of the most celestial altitude, of all keys, expressing in a universal lan- guage the most profound purposes of creative power. “/« the language of Chemistry — Man is ‘of the dust of the ground ’ — a shovelful of earth and a pailful of water ; a fortuitous compound of moldered rocks, and condensed rain clouds — agglomerated round a NATURAL HISTORT OF MAN. 29 mystic magnetic center, subject to that inevitable fiat, the laws of matter. “/« the language of Hygiene — Man is a wondrous, vitalic, vegetative machine, the normal state of which is change, growth, health ; at the same time subject, in whole or in part, to stagnation, disease, death. “/« the language of Rhrenology — Man is a rational being, an individualized entity, distinguished by or- ganic conditions — the laws of the universe, in a state of self-consciousness and voluntiiry action. “/« the language of Physiognomy — Man may be read by the various external ‘ features ’ of his organ- ization, which are the outward expression of the internal qualities, as may be seen in the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, cheeks, chin, complexion, and other ‘ signs of character.’ “/« the language of Metaphysics — Man is an accu- mulation of hereditary and acquired mental experi- ences, thought-powers, and processes — an occult chemesary of mind-products in all degrees of union and logical relationship — a great subjective halo en- shrouding the sphere of cerebral function. “/?i the language of Psychology — Man is a ‘ living soul,’ extending his influence and individuality be- yond the confines of the body, reciprocating the activities of other congenial souls, and those soul- forces of the universe which are represented in his being. “/« the langtiage of true Spiritualism — Man is an immortal being tabernacling in the flesh, in the germ- hood of existence, preparing for the ‘ higher sphere ’ and holding intercourse therewith, developing within his external form a comely and perfect organism, more intensely a reflex of mental states. “/« the language of Theology — Man is the ‘child of God’ — that eternal and inexhaustible source of the principles of being; and, as a necessity, man’s mission is forever, through endless grades of exist- ence, to give fuller and truer expression to the ‘ Deity that rules ■within him.’ “/« the language of Education — Man is a germ-seed of very limited extension, but capable of infinite de- velopment in all directions, in one or all of his powers, and in many degrees of combination. “/« the language of History — Man is a series of mental phenomena and social forms, repeating them- selves in accordance with the sublime purposes of creation. * “/« the language of Individualism — Each human being is the center of the universe, by God made manifest in a special manner, and to aid in realizing which all other things exist. “/« the language of Society — Man is a myriad of atoms, and one of millions of similar beings, having common interests and destiny — each one promoting his end in the highest degree by promoting the ends of all. “/« the language of Ethnology, Philology, etc . — Man exhibits verj' different characteristics. What a diversity of aspect this mighty subject presents! The greatest that the mind of the investigator can apply itself to. In its many ramifications are em- braced all other forms of knowledge and conditions of existence. Each distinct language in which Man can be read is the imposing frontage of a stately edifice looking out on a landscape of rare and charac- teristic beauty. The scene is changed, as by enchant- ment, according to the position of the beholder; and to wander amid these varied glories, and drink in their true significance, is an occupation, a privilege, worthy of the most sublime attributes of intelligence. But, alas! many inquirers know not one-half of the many features of the subject they presume to dis- course upon. Like the unsophisticated children of isolated tribes, they vainly think that all the won- ders of existence are comprised in the familiar objects that portray their native spot, and that their limited horizon is the verge of creation. Hence, the students of Human Nature are, in most cases, the assiduous nurses of mongrel hob- bies, which they pet and pamper till timely destruc- tion overtakes them. The question may be asked. Is there a science of Human Nature.? or are we only admonishing ourselves as to the advisability of such a thing.? That there are ample materials for it, none can doubt; and that they are being brought to light day by day, is equally apparent.” MAN THE CROWN OF CREATION. This subject has been treated with such admirable lucidity and such captivating elo- quence by the Rev. W. R. Alger, of Boston, in his “ Doctrine of a F uture Life,” — W. J. Widdleton, New York, publisher, — that the reader will „no doubt be pleased with the following extract, which is merely the open- ing paragraph of the seventh chapter of the fifth part of that truly admirable work : “ According to the imagining of some speculative geologists, perhaps this earth first floated in the abyss as a volume of vapor, wreathing its enormous folds of mist in fantastic shapes as it was borne along on the idle breath of law. Ages swept by, until this stupendous fog-ball was condensed into an ocean of CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 30 fire, whose billows heaved their lurid bosoms and reared their ashy crests without a check, while their burning spray illuminated its track around the sable vault. During periods which stagger computation, this molten world was gradually cooled down; con- stant rivers wrung from the densely-swathing vapor poured over the heated mass and at last submerged its crust in an immense sea. Then, for unknown centuries, fire, water and wind waged a Titanic war, that imagination shudders to think of, — jets of flame licking the stars, massive battlements and columns of fire piled to terrific heights, — now the basin of the sea suddenly turned into a glowing caldron and the atmosphere saturated with steam, — again explosions hurling mountains far into space and tearing the earth open in ghastly rents to its very heart. At length the fire was partially subdued, the peaceful deep glassed the sky in its bosom or rippled to the whis- pers of the breeze, and from amidst the fertile slime and mold of its sheltered floor began to sprout the first traces of organic life, the germs of a rude spe- cies of marine vegetation. Thousands of years rolled on. The world-ocean subsided, the peaks of mountains, the breasts of islands, mighty continents, emerged, and slowly, after many tedious processes of preparation, a gigantic growth of grass, every blade as large as our vastest oak, shot from the soil, and the incalculable epoch of ferns commenced, whose tremendous harvest clothed the whole land with a deep carpet of living verdure. While un- numbered growths of this vegetation were succes- sively maturing, falling, and hardening into the dark layers of inexhaustible coal-beds, the world, one waving wilderness of solemn ferns, swept in its orbit, voiceless and silent, without a single bird or insect of any kind in all its magnificent green soli- tudes, the air everywhere being heavily surchai-ged with gases of the deadliest poison. Again innumer- able ages passed, and the era of mere botanic growths reaching its limit, the lowest forms of animal life moved in the waters, the earliest creatures being certain marine reptiles, worms, and bugs of the sea. Then followed various untimed periods, during which animal life rose by degrees from mollusk and jelly-fish, by plesiosaurus and pterodactyl, — horrible monsters, hundreds of feet in length, whose tramp crashed through the woods, or whose flight loaded the groaning air, — to the dolphin and the whale in the sea, the horse and the lion on the land, and the eagle, the nightingale, and the bird of paradise in the air. Finally, when millions of seons had worn away, the creative process culminated in Humanity, the crown and perfection of all ; for God said, ‘ Let us make man in our own image;’ and straightway Adam, with upright form, kingly eye, and reason throned upon his brow, stood on the summit of the world and gave names to all the races of creatures beneath.” “ No higher creature than man is to be expected on earth, because the capacities of the earthly plan of organic creation are completed and exhausted with him.” — Agassiz. “ Man is the end towards which all the animaj creation has tended.” — Idem. “ Man is the sum-total of all the animals.” — Prof. Oken. “ What a piece of work is a man ! how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculty ! in form and moving — how express and admirable ! in action — how like an angel! in apprehension — how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!” — Shakespeare. MAN THE LORD OF CREATION. JefFerys Taylor, in his “Glance at the Globe,” answers this question in the follow- ing happy manner: WHO IS MASTER MAN OR BEAST “ Elephants are sagacious, and have uncommon strength ; lions and tigers are both fierce and strong ; foxes are cunning; and apes and monkeys try their hands at man’s doings; but what does it signify.? Did you ever hear that the beasts, with all their powers, united their endeavors so as to drive a number of human beings into one of their dens, there to feed, poke, and show them oft? — or that they attempted to fatten them as meat, or train them as laboring slaves.? The fact, you know, is exactly the reverse of all this. “ Q. Not always the reverse, surely ; animals do catch men, and eat them up alive. “A. That does not alter the matter I am speaking of. The beast overpowers the man, as a falling tree or a wave of the ocean may do; but it cannot be said that these become the man’s master, neither does the tiger become his master even when he bites him in two; he has never 7'tded the man, he has never compelled service from him ; neither can the tiger wait behind a bush, and kill his man with- out approaching him. “ See now what man has really done with ani- mals. See, not only the flocks, and herds, and horses — all the cattle of the land — as much under 1 NATURAL II I Sr CRT OF MAN. 31 the dominion of man as his own children are — arc growing amongst thistles and prickles, very nay ! a great deal more ; but behold the most enor- inconveniently ! And, ah ! they arc very sour, aus- mous, the most fierce, those armed with deadly tere, bitter, and husky! weapons, all caged like birds, fed, and trained, and “You eat a few, but you are not half satisfied; made to fear the keeper, whose body would not be a and, besides, you are shivering with the cold. Well, mouthful amongst them — one whom the least of that sheep has a great coat on, which he really does them could snap up as we would a kitten, but before not want; try and ease him of it. Dear me, how whom they cower in awe, not daring to disobey him. tiresome ! he sets oft' scrambling through the thickets. “ Q. Oh, but they do snap up their keepers some- frightened at the sight of you! Ah! now it rains — times ! hailstones come pelting down — the wind rattles “A. Yes, but that is when he forgets his manner them in your fade! Get under a tree; that is a little towards them, and trifles with the conditions on better, but it is rather an inclement home! which alone he can manage them ; he may beat “Well, cut the tree down, split it into boards. them till they howl, if needful, but he must not trick build yourself a house. But you have no tools! them nor tamper with their tempers. When we see There is iron in the mine, but where is the mine.^ creatures like those which are the terror of the in another part of the country! You sit down tropics, crouched under the wand of a keeper — dejected, helpless, and famished ; you obtain a little when we find that a whale, which is bigger than a uneasy sleep, till the wild animals disturb you; the thousand men, is hooked, and landed, and skinned. pigs and foxes put their noses to your face, and have and carved, by a boat full of people — this looks a smell at you ; they grunt or bark in your ear, and very much like mastery, quite like the superiority then they trot awaj'. It is very unpleasant; up you of man. jump and climb a tree — a monkey is there before “And did you ever see a little child leading a you — he jibbers and pelts you down ! horse — a little fellow sitting on the back of the . “ ‘ This will never do ! ’ jmu say. So 3'ou set your huge creature, and guiding it away from the herbage brains to work, and now find a new use for your it would like to crop — away from the pond where hands. Somehow, you build yourself a hut; you it really wants to drink Yes. Of these powerful procure a fire ; the smoke that issues has a savory animals it is even now true, that ‘a little child can odor in it; there is cooking going on and you are lead them ! ’ a little better off. “All this, you know, was expressly promised to “ The fact is, that until man has made use of his man by God Himself : ‘And the fear of you and the special powers and faculties, which are the best gifts dread of you shall be upon eveiy beast of the earth. of God to him, he must be a wretch. He cannot and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth live as the beasts do, nor share their competence ; upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; for, though Nature waits upon them, and gives them into your hand are they delivered.’ all their meat in due season, she will not do so by “ Well, now, let us see what man has to do before man. She says to him, ‘There are all sorts of things he can make use of the gifts of Nature that are provided for your use, but they will not come to you; placed before him. The materials, we have seen. you must up, and be doing, and procure and prepare are of three general sorts; and man’s wants, we may them ; you must work.’ say, are of three general kinds : we have animals. “Well, man has taken the hint, as I said before. vegetables, and minerals; and we require food, cloth- See, now, the miners, the founders, the smiths, the ing, and shelter. artificers in all kinds of wood and metal. Man has “Suppose, now, all these things in a state of obtained tools, and there he is, without ceasing, dig- nature, and you, a poor, hungry, houseless, uncov- ging, and heaving, and blowing, and hammering. ered wretch, but very clever indeed, placed amongst and driving, and all the rest of it. Men do not sleep them. There are wild bulls careering along the under trees now — at least, not sensible men, under plains, wild goats scrambling up the rocks, and so whole ones ; the sawer has worked his way through far from acknowledging your superiority at that mo- and through the mighty oak ; and the builder, with ment that — see! they are looking down upon you! his beams and boards, has already caged himself in. Well, catch and eat them ; you have free leave. and has room for a score of people under one roof. “And there are the wild vegetables, too, which “ And the architect, not content with this, rears a cannot run away ; and fruits, and berries, and corn- mighty edifice to be seen from afar, and for those seeds, here and there; taste and eat them. Oh, they afar otf to come and see, and to perpetuate his name 32 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. to future ages. Where did he find those very con- venient square blocks of stone.? O, peep down yonder at the foot of the craggy steep, where works the mason. With patient diligence he sits, pushing and pulling his long, toothless saw through the shapeless masses. Did I say hef Hundreds are at the work ; and the rock, which nature had piled ’mid the darkness of chaos, is taken down by man that he may rebuild it at his pleasure. Man can do all this, for now he is not a famishing wretch, contending with the beasts of prey for his meal — his food is secured; the husbandman has learned to plow, to sow, to reap, to gather into barns. “ And now the beasts, which once grinned at the roaming savage in contempt, come lowing and bleat- ing to his gate, asking to partake of the benefits of this state of things ; they expect here their daily food and nightly shelter. For this they lend him their mighty strength, yield him their own bodily sub- stance ; they give up their rugged freedom, and in exchange they acknowledge man their master!” WHENCE man’s SUPERIORITY. “The great source of man’s superiority is the immense and immeasurable disproportion of those faculties, of which nature has given the mere rudi- ments to brutes; that this disproportion has made man a speculative animal, even where his mere existence is not concerned ; that it has made him a progressive animal; that it has made him a religious animal ; and that upon that mere superiority, and on the very principle that the chain of mind and spirit terminates here with man, the best and the most irrefragable arguments for the immortality of the soul are founded, which natural religion can afford : that indeperrdent of revelation, it would be impossi- ble not to perceive that man is the object of the creation, and that he, and he alone., is reserved for another and a better state of existence.” — S. Smith. man’s power. “ He conquers the sea and its storms. He climbs the heavens, and searches out the mysteries of the stars. He harnesses the lightning. He bids the rocks dissolve, and summons the secret atoms to give up their names and laws. He subdues the face of the world, and compels the forces of the waters and the fires to be his servants. He makes laws, hurls empires down upon empires in the fields of war, speaks words that cannot die, sings to distant realms and peoples across vast ages of time; in a word, he executes all that is included in history, showing his tremendous energy in almost every- thing that stirs the silence, and changes the condi- tions of the world. Everything is transformed by him, even up to the stars. Not all the winds, and storms, and earthquakes, and seas, and seasons of the world, have done so much to revolutionize the world as he has done since the day he came forth upon it, and received, as he is most truly declared to have done, dominion over it.” — Bushnell. wherein man falls short. What a noisy creature would a man be were his voice, in proportion to his weight, as loud as that of a locust! A locust can be heard at the distance of one-sixteenth of a mile. The golden wren is said to weigh but half an ounce; so that a middling-sized man, of one hundred and twenty-five pounds, would weigh down four thousand of them; and it must be strange if a golden wren would not outweigh four of our locusts. Supposing, therefore, that a common man weighs as much as sixteen thousand of our locusts, and that the note of a locust can be heard one-six- teenth of a mile, a man of common dimen- sions, pretty sound in wind and limb, ought to be able to make himself heard at the distance of one thousand miles ; and when he sneezed, “ his house ought to fall about his ears !” Sup- posing a flea to weigh one grain, which is more than its actual weight, and to jump one and a half yards, a man of one hundred and fifty pounds, with jumping powers in pro- portion, could jump twelve thousand eight hundred miles, or about the distance from New York to Cochin China. MAN’S ADAPTABILITY TO ALL CLIMES. Man has this superiority over all other animals, that he can inhabit every different region of the globe, however extreme the degree of temperature. He is found under the scorching sun and amid the arid plains of Africa, as well as in the ice-bound regions of the most northern lands; and he is found to live and thrive under these various ex- tremes, not only after a gradual naturaliza- tion of ages, but he can move from one NATURAL HISTORY OF MAN. 33 country to another, and undergo a change of climate with comparative impunity. The Esquimaux and the British American Indian will prosecute their usual employments of the chase in a temperature where mercury freezes into a solid mass, and where even brandy congeals to ice in apartments contain- ing fires; while the African, again, feels quite at his ease in a burning climate, where the thermometer in the shade ranges from 90 to 100 degrees and iq^wards. Man has an equal facility in adapting himself to the pressure of the atmosphere attendant on low or elevated situations. In the mining regions of the western territories he lives happily, and labors hard, located from 6,000 to 10,000 feet above the level of the sea; and in some parts of South America hamlets are found at 15,000 feet, while in distant India an order of Buddhist monks has a home in the Hima- laya mountains at the extraordinary height of nearly 17,000 feet above the level of the ocean. On the contrary we find almost all animals only adapted to live in the regions in which they are naturally found ; and when removed from such localities they seldom enjoy the natural period of their lives. Even the dog and the horse, the domesticated companions of man, degenerate and change their natures under extreme varieties of temperature; and the monkey tribe — which, in the structure of their bodies, and in the substances on which they feed, approach the nearest to man — be- come sickly and diseased, and never propa- gate their species, when remoyed into any of the colder regions of the earth. In order to enable man to thus subsist in regions having such a diversity of natural productions, he is endowed with the power of feeding on and digesting every possible kind of food ; he is, compared to other ani- mals, in respect to diet, omnivorous. We thus find the inhabitants of the frozen north living almost exclusively on the fat and flesh of land and sea animals, the only food which the barren and ungenial climate affords, but one which, nevertheless, from its stimulating and nourishing nature, is the very best for enabling them to live under such an extreme depression of temperature. The inhabitants of the hot countries, again, will be found living on rice, fruits, and other vegetable productions, which the warm and genial soil yields in abundance, and which, from their nature, are less heating and stimulating than an animal diet. In the intermediate and tem- perate regions a mixed diet of animal and vegetable food is preferred. Much discussion has arisen whether man be more a flesh- feeding or herb-eating animal; experience demonstrates that he is equally adapted to become both — that he will live on an almost purely animal diet, as well as on one purely vegetable; although to strictly compare the form of his jaw and teeth and the general structure of his intestines with those animals that live on nuts and other fruits, and farina- ceous or mealy substances, they would seem to indicate that a vegetable diet is the most suitable to his natural organization. Among civilized nations, bread and the grains and mealy roots, in some shape or other, have a preponderance in every meal; but the art of cooking, which man resorts to even in the first dawning of civilization, enables him to change the nature of his various food, and to render it more suitable both for digestion and the purposes of nourishment, and thus gives him a wonderful superiority over all the rest of the animated world. Perhaps it is this improved method of preparing his food, as much as by original strength and perfection of frame, joined to the other com- forts of civilization, that he is enabled to brave the vicissitudes of climate, and to pro- long his life to a longer period than the great majoi'ity of other animals. Man has been formed with a naked skin, with the evident intention that he should CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 34 clothe himself by his own labor and inge- nuity. Almost all the larger and more per- fect animals have a covering of hair, of feathers, or of down, which is at stated periods renewed, and in some animals in greater length and abundance at particular seasons, to suit the variations of temperature. But man can always adapt his clothing to the climate he inhabits, or to the varying changes of the seasons; and he can, at all times, by his own industry, vary or renew his suits. Man, too, builds for himself a comfortable habitation to protect him from the inclemency of the weather, and is not contented with a burrow under the ground, or the casual shelter of the trees and vines, as are the animals of the forests. It is true, the architecture of bees, and some other ani- mals, is curious, ingeniously combined, and admirably suited to their necessities; but in comparative taste, splendor, or even conven- ience, how far are all these surpassed by the houses, and temples, and cities of mankind! Though man is naturally defenseless and unarmed, how soon does his ingenuity enable him to obtain a mastery of the beasts of the field and forest, and furnish him with the weapons of defense against all his enemies. How soon does his ingenuity enable him to improve and cultivate the soil — to drain swamps, cut down forests, level mountains — to select and cultivate the best species of grain and the most wholesome vegetables for food — to invent tools and engines, by which he acquires a command over the sea and land, by which he erects bridges, con- structs machinery, launches mighty vessels upon the water, and sends his thoughts under ocean’s bed to another continent! And, too, with what skill he constructs other instru- ments of art and science, by which he can examine and investigate the most minute ob- jects of nature, as well as bring within his sphere of observation other planets and other suns in the vast dome of the universe. “ In the diversity of the regions which he is capa- ble of inhabiting, the lord of the creation holds the first place among animals. His frame and nature are stronger and more flexible than those of any other creature; hence he can dwell in all situations on the surface of the globe. The neighborhood of the pole and the equator, high mountains and deep val- leys, are occupied by him ; his strong but pliant body bears cold, heat, moisture, light or heavy air ; he can thrive anywhere, and runs into less remarkable varieties than any other animals which occupy so great a diversity of abodes ; a prerogative so singular that it must not be overlooked.” — Lawrence. MAN AT HOME EVERYWHERE. M AN’S home is everywhere. On ocean’s flood, Where the strong ship with storm-defying tether Doth link in stormy brotherhood Earth’s utmost zones together, Where’er the red gold glows, the spice trees wave. Where the rich diamond ripens, mid the flame Of vertic suns that ope the stranger’s grave. He with bronzed cheek and daring step doth rove; He with short pang and slight Doth turn him from the checkered light Of the fair moon through his own forests dancing. Where music, joy and love Were his young hours entrancing; And where ambition’s thunder-claim Points out his lot, Or fitful wealth allures to roam. There doth he make his home. Repining not. — Lydia H. Sigourney. THE FIRST MAN. The following beautiful conception of the emotions and sensations, the doubts and mis- givings, the joys and disappointments, of the imaginary first man is from the pen of the great naturalist, BufFon: ‘‘The first man describes his first movements, his first sensa- tions, and his first ideas after the creation. “I recollect that moment full of joy and per- plexity, when, for the first time, I was aware of my singular existence; I did not know what I was, where I was, or where I came from. I opened my eyes. How my sensations increased! the light, the vault of heaven, the verdure of the earth, the crystal of the waters, everything interested me, animated me, and gave me an inexpressible sentiment of pleasure. I thought at first that all these objects NATURAL HIS TORT OF MAN. 35 were in me, and made a part of myself. I was con- firming myself in tliis idea, when I turned my eyes towards the sun: its brilliancy distressed me; I involuntarily closed my eyelids, and I felt a slight sensation of grief. In this moment of darkness I thought I had lost my entire being. “Afflicted and astonished I was thinking of this great change, when suddenly I heard sounds; the singing of the birds, the murmuring of the air, formed a concert the sweet influence of which touched my very soul ; I listened for a long time, and I soon felt convinced that this harmony was myself. Intent upon and entirely occupied with this new part of my existence, I had already forgotten light, that other portion of my being, the first with which I had become acquainted, when I re-opened my eyes. What happiness to possess once more so many brilliant objects ! My pleasure surpassed what I had felt the first time, and for a while suspended the charming effect of sound. “ I fixed my eyes on a thousand different objects ; I soon discovered that I might lose and recover these objects, and that I had at my will the power of destroying and reproducing this beautiful part of myself; and, although it seemed to me immense in its grandeur, from the quality of the rays of light, and from the variety of the colors, I thought I had discovered that it was all a portion of my being. “ I was beginning to see without emotion, and to hear without agitation, when a slight breeze, whose freshness I felt, brought to me perfumes that gave me inward pleasure, and caused a feeling of love for myself. “Agitated by all these sensations, and oppressed by the pleasures of so beautiful and grand an exist- ence, I suddenly rose, and I felt myself taken along by an unknown power. I only made one step; the novelty of my situation made me motionless, my surprise was extreme; I thought my existence was flying from me; the movement I had made disturbed the objects around me, I imagined everything was disordered. “ I put my hand to my head, I touched my fore- head and eyes; I felt all over my body; my hand then appeared to me the principal organ of my existence. What I felt was so distinct and so com- plete, the enjoyment of it appeared so perfect, com- pared with the pleasure that light and sound had caused me, that I gave myself up entirely to this substantial part of my being, and I felt that my ideas acquired profundity and reality. “ Every part of my body that I touched seemed to give back to my hand feeling for feeling, and each touch produced a double idea in my mind. I was not long in discovering that this faculty of feeling was spread over every part of my body ; I soon found out the limits of my existence, which had at first seemed to me immense in extent. I had cast my eyes over my body ; I thought it of enormous dimensions, so large, that all the objects that struck my eye appeared to me, in comparison, mere lumin- ous points. I examined myself for a long time, I looked at myself with pleasure, I followed my hand with my eyes, and I observed all its movements. My mind was filled with the strangest ideas. I thought the movement of my hand was only a kind of fugitive existence, a succession of similar things. I put my hand near my eyes ; it seemed to me larger than my whole body, and it hid an infinite number of objects from my view. “ I began to suspect that there was an illusion in the sensations that my eyes made me experience. I had distinctly seen that my hand was only a small part of my body, and I could not understand how it could increase so as to appear of immoderate size. I then resolved to trust only to touch, which had not yet deceived me, and to be on my guard with respect to every other way of feeling and being. “ This precaution was useful to me. I put myself again in motion, and I walked with my head high and raised towards heaven. I struck myself slightly against a palm tree ; filled with fear, I placed my hand on this foreign substance, for such I thought it, because it did not give me back feeling for feeling. I turned away with a sort of horror, and then I knew, for the first time, that there was something distinct from myself. More agitated by this new discovery than I had been by all the others, I had great diffi- culty in reassuring myself; and after having medi- tated upon this event, I came to the conclusion that I ought to judge of external objects as I had judged of the parts of my own body, that it was only by touching them that I could assure myself of their existence. I then tried to touch all I saw; I wanted to touch the sun; I stretched out my arms to em- brace the horizon, and I only clasped the emptiness of air. “ At every experiment that I made, I became more and more surprised ; for all the objects around appeared to be equally near me; and it was only after an infi- nite number of trials that I learnt to use my eyes to guide my hand, and, as it gave me totally different ideas from the impressions that I received through the sense of sight, my opinions were only more imperfect, and my whole being was to me still a confused existence. CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIF'E. 36 “ Profoundly occupied with myself, with what I was, and what I might be, the contrarieties I had iust experienced humiliated me. The more I re- flected, the more doubts arose in my mind. Tired out by so much uncertainty, fatigued by the work- ings of my mind, my knees bent, and I found myself in a position of repose. This state of tranquility gave new vigor to my senses. I was seated under the shadow of a fine tree; fruits of a red color hung down in clusters within reach of my hand. I touched them lightly, they immediately fell from the branch, like the fig when it has arrived at maturity. I seized one of these fruits, I thought I had made a conquest, and I exulted in the power I felt of being able to hold in my hand another entire being. Its weight, though very slight, seemed to me an animated resistance, which I felt pleasure in vanquishing. I had put this fruit near my eyes; I was considering its form and color. Its delicious smell made me bring it nearer; it was close to my lips; with long respirations I drew in the perfume, and I enjoyed in long draughts the pleasures of smell. I was filled with this perfumed air. My mouth opened to exhale it; it opened again to inhale it. I felt that I possessed an internal sense of smell, purer and more delicate than the first. At last, I tasted. “What a flavor! What a novel sensation I Until then I had only experienced pleasure; taste gave me the feeling of voluptuousness. The nearness of the enjoyment to myself produced the idea of possession. I thought the substance of the fruit had become mine, and that I had the power of transforming beings. “Flattered by this idea of power, and urged by the pleasure I had felt, I gathered a second and a third fruit, and I did not tire of using my hand to satisfy my taste ; but an agreeable languor, by degrees taking possession of my senses, weighed on my members, and suspended the activity of my mind. *I judged of my inactivity by the faintness of my thoughts; my weakened senses blunted all the ob- jects around, which appeared feeble and indistinct. At this moment my now useless eyes closed, and my head, no longer kept up by the power of my muscles, fell back to seek support on the turf. Everything became eftaced, everything disappeared. The course of my thoughts was interrupted, I lost the sensation of existence. This sleep was profound, but I do not know whether it was of long duration, not yet having an idea of time, and therefore unable to measure it. My waking was only a second birth, and I merely felt that I had ceased to exist. The annihilation I had just experienced caused a sensa- tion of fear, and made me feel that I could not exist forever. “Another thing disquieted me. I did not know that I had not lost during my sleep some part of my being. I tried my senses. I endeavored to know myself again. “At this moment, the sun, at the end of the course, ceased to give light. I scarcely perceived that I lost the sense of sight; I existed too much to fear the cessation of my being; and it was in vain that the obscurity recalled to me the idea of my first sleep.” “ For me kind Nature wakes her genial power. Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flower ; Annual for me the grape, the rose, renew The juice nectarious and the balmy dew; For me the mine a thousand treasures brings; For me health gushes from a thousand springs; Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise ; My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.” — P ope. The cradle and the tomb, alas! so nigh, To live is scarce distinguished from to die. WHAT IS LIFE? L ife is felt by the countless myriads of ^ Animated Nature, bringing to each individual thereof a different value and sig- nificance. In the w^ords of Dr. Davies: — “ There are innumerable forms of life in creation. The first and lowest is the vege- table, the second is the animal, and the third and highest is the intellectual. And in every one of these manifestations there are several degrees, by which nature rises to the perfec- tion of that kind which has some near resemblance of the next above it. For example: some things without life are much larger and grander than others; some plants and flowers, too, surpass their neighbors both in loveliness and fragrance, and ap- proach nearer to sense. There are also myriads of living creatures that occupy a position between the vegetable and animal kingdoms, and naturalists have not yet deter- mined whether to rank them among plants or animals; while some animals ai'e more apprehensive and docile than their fellows, and seem but one remove from intelligence itself.” But the subject of most interest to the average reader is human life itself. Now there are twelve or thirteen hundred mil- lions of human beings on this globe, accord- ing to the latest estimates, and to the actual problem of human life, as no two of these are entirely alike, there must be as many solutions. But human life generally consid- ered has been a subject of reflection to the greatest of our kind; and many and various are the words that have been summoned to do service in defining, or rather describing, “ What is Life.” 38 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. '' In the language of Nleta^hor — Life is a Voyage. — Under this aspect it has been very beautifully presented by the late American painter, Thomas Cole, in his four famous pictures — Childhood, Youth, Manhood, and Old Age; and these have been ably repro- duced by the engraver Smillie. The follow- ing eloquent word - picturing, by Bishop Heber, or more probably the extract from Pope, which is subjoined, may have sug- gested the subject: “Life bears us on like the stream of a mighty river. Our boat at first glides swiftly down the nar- row channel, through the playful murmurings of the little brook and the windings of its grassy borders; the trees shed their blossoms over our young heads, and the flowers on the brink seem to offer themselves to our young hands; we rejoice in hope, and grasp eagerly at the beauties around us; but the stream hurries us on, and still our hands are empty. “ Our course in youth and manhood is along a wider and deeper flood, and amid objects more strik- ing and magnificent. We are animated by the mov- ing picture of enjoyment and industry that is passing before us ; we are excited by some short-lived success, or depressed and rendered miserable by some short- lived disappointment. But our energy and depend- ence are alike in vain. The stream bears us on, and our joys and griefs are left behind us; we may be shipwrecked, but we cannot anchor; our voyage may be hastened, but cannot be delayed; whether rough or smooth, the river hastens us towards its home ; the roaring of the waves is beneath our keel, the land lessens from our ej'es, the floods are lifted up around us, and we take the last leave of earth and its inhab- itants, and of our future voyage there is no witness save the Infinite and the Eternal ! ” “ Behold the Child, by nature’s kindly law. Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw; Some livelier plaything gives his Youth delight, A little louder, but as erflpty quite; Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his Riper Stage, And beads and prayer-books are the toys of Age, Pleased with this bauble still, as that before. Till tired, he sleeps, and life can charm no more.” — Pope. Life is afourney. — In Childhood we have those pleasurable anticipations of life that find their analogies at the outset of a journey from which we expect the pleasure and profit so often belied by the event. In Youth, the buoyancy, whose counterpart is the elastic step that marks the earlier stages of the journey. In Manhood, the endurance stripped of all illusion, that is aptly paralleled by the for- titude required to meet the stress and fatigue of the more advanced stages, when the novelty and glamour that accompanied the setting out have worn away. And, finally, in Old Age we have the weariness and exhaustion that characterize the close of a long and tedious journey. “ Life is a journey : on we go Through many a scene of joy and woe.” — Combe. “ Had but the heart that thrills a three years’ boy A voice to speak, ’twould say that life is joy! Note then the youth whose impulse naught can tame. That life is action, tongue and limb proclaim ! The man whom well-spent years from dread release. Secure in knowledge, tells thee, life is peace ; And the gray sage who smiles beside the grave. Knows life is all, and death a dusty slave ! ” —Sterling. “We talk of human life as a journey, but how variously is that journey performed I There are those who come forth girt, and shod, and mantled, to walk on velvet lawns and smooth terraces, where every gale is arrested and every beam is tempered. There are others who walk on the Alpine paths of life, against driving misery, and through stormy sorrows, over sharp afflictions; walk with bare feet and naked breast, jaded, mangled, and chilled.” — Sydney Smith. Life is a Landscape. — Looking at life from the watch-tower of sober contemplation, in some moment snatched from the hurry of high-pressure_ existence, we see the lights and shadows, the hills and vales, the somber gray and the living green of the chequered career of every human being like the various features of a variegated landscape. “ How few the incidents of life — how multitudi- nous its emotions! How flat, monotonous, may be the circumstance of daily existence, and yet how various the thoughts which spring from it! Look at yonder landscape, broken into hill and dale, with trees of every hue and form, and water winding IV HA T IS LIFE? 39 in silver threads through velvet fields. How beau- tiful, for how various! Cast your eye over that moor; it is flat and desolate — barren as barren rock. Not so! Seek the soil, and then, with nearer gaze, contemplate the wondrous forms and colors of the thousand mosses growing there! give ear to the hum of busy life sounding at every root of poorest grass ! Listen! Does not the heart of the earth beat audibly beneath this seeming barrenness — audibly as where the corn grows and the grape ripens.^ Is it not so with the veriest rich and the veriest poor — with the most active, and apparently the most inert.^” — Jer- ROLD. In the language of Religion — Life is God’s transcendentally mysterious and unut- terably uncertain gift; that man, through his own free agency and knowledge of moral laws, may fix, while in this world, his char- acter and condition for eternal ages. “The Lord God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” — Bible. “We are but of yesterday, and know nothing, be- cause our days upon earth are a shadow.” — Ibid. “This life is the childhood of eternity.” — Abp. Manning. “Live virtuously, my lord, and you cannot die too soon, nor live too long.” — Lady Rachel Rus- sell. “That life is long which answers life’s great end; the time that bears no fruit deserves no name ; the man of wisdom is the man of years.” — Young. “To be enslaved by the senses in the violation of the Divine laws, neglecting the mind and abus- ing the members, is to be dead to the goodness of God, the joys of virtue, and the hopes of heaven, and alive to guilt, anguish and despair. To obey the will of God in love, keeping the body under, and cherishing a pure soul, is to be dead to the evil of the world, the goading of passions, and the fears of punishment, and alive to innocence, happiness and faith. According to the natural plan of things from the dawn of creation, the flesh was intended to fall into the ground, but the spirit to ri.se into heaven. Suffering is the retributive result and accumulated merit of iniquity; while enjoyment is the gift of God and the fruit of con- formity to his law. To receive the instructions of Christ and obey them with the whole heart, walking after his example, is to be quickened from that deadly misery into this living blessedness. The inner life of truth and goodness thus revealed and proposed to men, its personal experience being once obtained, is an immortal possession, a conscious fount springing up unto eternity through the benefi- cent decree of the Father, to play forever in the light of his smile and the shadow of his arm. Such are the great component elements of the Christian doctrine of life and death, both present and eternal.” — W. R. Alger. In the language of Science — Life is, ac- cording to Bichat, the sum of functions by which death is resisted; but as life is actual and death the negation of life, it has been better defined by Herbert Spencer, in his “ Principles of Psychology,” in an affirmative form, thus: “Life is the co-ordination of actions; the imper- fection of the co-ordination is disease; its arrest is death.” Or, “ Life is the continuous adjustment of relations in an organism with relations in its envi- ronment.” Or, again, “Life is the continuous differ- entiation and integration of tissues and of states of consciousness.” “Life consists in a faculty possessed by certain corporeal substances, of continuing for a time under one determined form, by attracting incessantly from without, and identifying with the matter of their own composition, particles of extraneous substances, and by rendering to the surrounding elements por- tions of their own.” — Cuvier. In the language of Benevolence — The great object of life is to make one’s self happy by promoting the happiness of others. “ I have shewed you all things,” says the Apostle Paul, in bidding farewell to the elders of the church of Ephesus, as recorded in Acts 20:35, “how that so laboring ye ought to support the weak, and to remem- ber the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said. It is more blessed to give than to receive.” “ He that does good to another does good also to himself, not only in the consequence, but in the very act; for the consciousness of well-doing is in itself ample reward.” — Seneca. “To feel much for others and little for ourselves; to restrain our selfish, and to indulge our benevo- 40 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. lent affections, constitute the perfection of human nature.” — Adam Smith. “ The lessons of prudence have charms, And slighted may lead to distress; But the man whom benevolence warms. Is an angel who lives but to bless.” — Bloomfield. In the language of Wisdom — Life is the harbinger of those benefits which Time’s scythe cannot mow down, nor the chemistry of death impair; of lessons which, whether heeded and treasured up or not in our early years, are the primal causes and necessary rudiments of an eternal education. The wise man thinketh that the life of this world, like a great harp, yieldeth to the use made of it; music floats out from its vibrating wires, or goes rolling and winding through the tissues of life, just as we, attuned to harmony or discord, play upon it. “ We shape ourselves, our joy or fear Of which the coming life is made. And fill our future’s atmosphere With sunshine of with shade. “ The tissue of the life to be We weave with colors all our own. And in the field of destiny. We reap as we have sown.” — Whittier. In the language of Sociability — Life is a charmed circle of ceaseless friendships; an ebbless river of blessed sympathies; the fountain and mainspring of heart-born joys and loving kindnesses; of the sweetest deli- cacies — gentleness, tenderness, loveliness, happiness. “ To live uprightly, then, is sure the best ; To save ourselves, and not to damn the rest.” — Dryden. “ Teach the glad hours to scatter, as they fly. Soft quiet, gentle love, and endless joy.” — Prior. “ So to live that when the sun Of our existence sinks in night. Memorials sweet of mercies done May shrine our names in memory’s light. And the blest seeds we scatter’d bloom A hundred-fold in days to come.” — Sir J. Bowring. In the la7iguage of the Beautiful — We can scarcely characterize the beauty of human life in words too strong, or too grandly eulo- gistic. It is the greatest possession of hu- manity; and, if rightly used, can be made to serve the noble purpose ascribed to it by the “ godlike Socrates,” in those memorable words that seem to anticipate the teachings of Christianity, and tend to confirm the view that Paganism was not without its inspiration: “The end of life is to be like unto God; and the soul following God will be like unto Him; He being the beginning, middle and end of all things.” “ Life, like the waters of the seas, freshens only when it ascends to heaven.” — Richter. “ Life is a casket not precious in itself, but valuable in proportion to what fortune, or industry, or virtue placed within it.” — Landor. “ Life is not a drearj' waste ; on the contrary,^ it is full of joy and beauty, and to the strong, reliant soul, who has faith and hope, it is full of goodness ; but beauty must be in the mind, and goodness in the heart, or neither will be seen to be in the world.” — J. Johnson. “We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial ; W e should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.” —Bailey. In the language of Poet7y — Using the words of Shakespeare, the world’s writer, “the web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. Our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, were they not cherished by our virtues.” “Life is short,” says Richter; “man has two minutes and a half to live — one to smile, one to sigh, and a half to love — for in the middle of this he dies; but the grave is not deep — it is the shining tread of an angel that seeks us. When the unknown hand throws the fatal dart, at the end of man, then boweth he his head, and the dart only lifts the crown of thorns from his wounds.” 1 WHAT IS LIFE? 41 WHAT IS LIFE? A nd what is life? an hour glass on the run, A mist retreating from the morning sun, A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream; Its length, a minute’s pause — a moment's thought; And happiness a bubble on the stream. That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought. And what is hope? the puffing gale of morn That robs each flowret of its gem, and dies ; A cobweb hiding disappointment’s thorn. Which stings more keenly through the thin dis- guise. And what is death? Is still the cause unfound? That dark, m^^sterious name of horrid sound ! A long and lingering sleep the weary crave ; And peace, where can its happiness abound? Nowhere at all save heaven and the grave. Then, what is life, when stripped of its disguise? A thing to be desired it cannot be. Since everything that meets our foolish eyes Gives proof sufficient of its vanity. ’Tis but a trial all must undergo To teach unthankful mortal how to prize That happiness vain man’s denied to know. Until he’s called to claim it in the skies. LIFE— AT MORN, NOON AND NIGHT. A t morn — a mountain, ne’er to be climbed o’er, A horn of plenty, lengthening evermore; At noon — the countless hour-sands pouring fast. Waves that we scarce can see as they run past; At night — a pageant over ere begun, A course not even measured, and yet run — A short, mysterious tale, suddenly done : At first — a heap of treasure, heaven-high; At last — a failing purse, shrunk, lean and beggarly.” —Mrs. Butler. THE HAP FT LIFE. M ARTIAL, the things that do attain The happy life, be these, I find : — The riches left, not got with pain ; The fruitful ground, the quiet mind ; The equal friend, no grudge, no strife ; No charge of rule, nor governance; Without disease, the healthful life; The household of continuance; The mean diet, no delicate fare; True wisdom joined with simpleness; The night discharged of all care; Where wine the wit may not oppress ; The faithful wife — without debate; Such sleeps as may beguile the night; Contented with thine own estate. Nor wish for death, nor fear his might. — Surrey. ALL THE WORLD. A ll the world is full of babies. Sobbing, sighing, everywhere; Looking out with eyes of terror. Beating at the empty air. Do they see the strife before them. That they sob and tremble so? Oh, the helpless, frightened babies! Still they come, and still they go. All the world is full of children. Laughing over little joys. Sighing over little troubles, Fingers bruised and broken toys; Wishing to be older, larger. Weeping at some fancied woe; Oh, the happy, hapless children ! Still they come, and still they go. All the world is full of lovers. Walking slowly, whispering sweet. Dreaming dreams, and building castles. That must crumble at their feet; Breaking vows and burning letters. Smiling, lest the world shall know I Oh, the fooling, trusting lovers! Still they come, and still they go. All the world is full of people. Hurrying, rushing, passing by. Bearing burdens, carrying crosses, Passing onward with a sigh ; Some there are with smiling faces, But with heavy hearts below; Oh, the sad-eyed, burdened people! How they come, and how they go. All the earth is full of corpses. Dust and bones laid there to rest; This the end that babes and children. Lovers, people, find at best. All their fears, and all their crosses. All their sorrows wearing so; Oh, the silent, happy corpses. Sleeping soundly, lying low. A PSALM OF LIFE. T ell me not in mournful numbers. Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers. And things are no^what they seem. 42 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead ! Act, — act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o’erhead ! Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way ; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime. And, departing, leave behind us. Footprints on the sands of time; — Art is long, and Time is fleeting. And our hearts, though stout and brave. Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. Footprints, that perhaps another. Sailing o’er life’s solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother. Seeing, shall take heart again. In the world’s broad field of battle. In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! Be a hero in the strife I Let us, then, be up and doing. With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. — Longfellow. THE HUMAN Man is marvelously made. Who is eager to investigate the curious, to contemplate the wonderful works of God, let him not wan- der the “wide world ’round” to seek them, but examine himself. “ The proper study of mankind is man.” Wonders at home, by familiarity, cease to excite astonishment; and thence it happens that many know but little about the “ house we live in” — the human body. We look upon a house from the outside, just as a whole or unit, seldom thinking of the many rooms, the curious passages, or the ingenious inter- nal arrangements of the house; and, in like manner, we seldom reflect on the wonderful structure of man, or the harmony and adapta- tion of all his parts. THE HUMAN SKELETON. The chief structures in the human body are distinguished as follows: 9 kinds of articula- tions, 100 cartilages, 100 nerve-bundles, 400 muscles and tendons, and 238 bones. Of the whole number of bones, there MA CH INERT. are 8 in the skull, which appears to be com- posed of only one. Each ear has 3 little bones, which form a chain. The face is made of a frame- work of 14 bones. There is I bone at the root of the tongue. The teeth are 33 in number: 8 incisors, or cut- ting teeth; 4 canine, or dog-teeth; and 20 grinders, or double teeth. The spine has 24 bones, which constitute the vertebrae: of these, 7 are in the neck; 12, to which the ribs are attached; and the 5 lumbar bones. The lower end of the spinal column is formed by 3 bones: one called the sacrum; and the other, coccyx; they are also known as the false vertebrae. The pelvis is formed by the two hips, or, more strictly, by the two ossa innominata (unnamed bones) and the sacrum and coccyx. There are 64 bones in the upper extremi- ties — the shoulders, ai'ms, wrists and Angers; 32 on each side. The frame- work of the chest has 25 bones in addition to 12 spinal bones, viz. : the breast- bone, and 34 ribs. The long or true ribs join THE HUMAN MACHINERY. 43 the sternum or breast-bone, and are 14 in number — 7 on each side; the short or false ribs are 10 in number — 5 on a side. In the lower extremities, from the thigh down, there are 60 bones — 30 on each side. The feet and toes are made up of 46 bones. A, Os I'rontis, frontal bone, or forehead. BB, Parietal bones, or sides of head. C, D, Maxillaries, or upper and lower jaws. EE, Cervical vertebrae, or seven bones of the neck. FF, Clavicles, or right and left collar-bones. GG, Scapulae, or right and left shoulder-blades. ////, Sternum, or breast bone. 1 /, Os humeri, or arm, right and left. yj, nurabar vertebrae, or five bones of the loins. KK, Ossa innominata, or unnamed bones, or sides of pelvis. L, Os sacrum, or “sacred bone,” the one immediately under the spinal column. .1/, Os coccygis, or “cuckoo-bone” (from its resemblance to the beak of a cuckoo), under the sacrum, and forming, as it were, the tapering extremity thereof. Both these, being virtually a continuation oi the spinal column, are also called false vertebrae. KK, L, M, Constitute together the enclosure known as the pelvis, or cavity of the urinary and genital organs. NN, Femora, or thigh-bones. PP, Patellae, or knee-pans. TT, Tibiae, or shin-bones. UU, Fibulae, or hinder bones of legs. VV, Tarsi, or insteps and adjoining bones, or the bases of legs. WW, Metatarsi, or “ beyond tarsi,” the flat parts of either foot. XX, Phalanges, or rows of bones, three of which form the toes. ANALYSIS OF SKELETON. Spinal Column, including Sacrum and Coccyx 26 Skull 8 Ear-bones 6 Face-bones 14 Tongue-bone i Teeth 32 Breast-bone (sternum) i Ribs (true, 14; false, 10) 24 Unnamed bones 2 Upper extremities — arms, hands, etc.. . 64 Lower extremities — legs, feet, etc 60 238 The surface of the bones appears hard and compact; yet the inside is spongy, and admits numej'ous blood-vessels. The marrow is a fatty matter, well filled with blood-sacs. COMPOSITION OF BONE. Gelatine 33-30 Phosphate of Lime 51-04 Carbonate “ 11-30 Fluoride of Calcium 2.00 Phosphate of Magnesia 1.16 Soda and Chloride of Sodium 1.20 100.00 The bones, membranes and cartilages are all of the same structure and substance, only differently proportioned. The membrane is a jelly-like matter called gelatine, filled with 44 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. THE SKELETON. nerves and blood-vessels, with a small quan- tity of albumen (white of egg), which gives it strength. The cartilage is a membrane with a larger amount of albumen, which gives it greater strength. Growth produces a somewhat remarkable change in the rela- tive qualities of the bones. In very young animals, they are mere gristle, or temporary cartilage; but with age, earthy matter (lime, etc.,) is deposited by the blood, and the bone’s become harder. Hence it is that children are less liable to be injured in their frequent falls than youths, and youths less than adults, the increased weight requiring a stronger support, but less elasticity, as the human being advances to maturity. In short, the human machinery is made up of these component parts : the bones, which constitute the skeleton, or framework, for strength ; the cartilages, which cover their extremities ; the ligaments, which hold them together; the muscles, whose contraction gives motion; the tendons, which communi- cate that motion ; the nervous ganglia, which generate force; the nerve fiber, which con- veys it, under direction of the brain; the tubes, which circulate the fluids of the body; the stomach, which prepares the food for absorption into the human system; the intes- tines, which carry it on its way; the senses, which discriminate, and protect the nerves of perception; the lungs, which inhale oxygen, thereby revivifying the blood ; and the heart, which, by its alternate compression and dila- tation, propels the arterial and receives back the venous blood. Of these things, and the skin, which clothes the body ; of the membranes, which line its cavities; of the assimilating glands, which make the blood; of the secreting glands, which purify it; and of the many other parts and tissues of the body, let the reader rever- ently take note, and learn that he is a mar- velous being, “fearfully and wonderfully made.” [The following* beautiful lines were found attached to a skeleton in a Tondon medical colleg-e, many years ago, and although two hundred dollars’ reward was offered for the writer’s name, it was never ascertained,] B ehold this ruin! ’Twas a skull, Once of ethereal spirit full. This narrow cell was Life’s retreat, This space was Thought’s mysterious seat. What beauteous visions filled this spot! What dreams of pleasure long forgot! Nor Hope, nor Love, nor Joy, nor Fear, Have left one trace of record here. Beneath this itloldering canopy Once shone the bright and busy eye ; But — start not at the dismal void — If social Love that eye employed, If with no lawless fire it gleamed. But through the dews of kindness beamed, That eye shall be forever bright. When stars and suns are sunk in night. Within this hollow cavern hung The ready, swift, and tuneful tongue. If Falsehood’s honey it disdained. And, where it could not praise, was chained ; If bold in Virtue’s cause it spoke. Yet gentle Concord never broke; This silent tongue shall plead for thee. When Time unveils Eternity. Say, did these fingers delve the mine? Or with its envied rubies shine? To hew the rock, or wear the gem. Can little now avail to them. But if the page of Truth they sought. Or comfort to the mourner brought. These hands a richer meed shall claim Than all that wait on Wealth or Fame. Avails it whether bare or shod These feet the paths of duty trod ? If from the bowers of Ease they fled. To seek Affliction’s humble shed. If Grandeur’s guilty bribe they spurned, And home to Virtue’s cot returned. These feet with angel’s wings shall vie. And tread the palace of the sky. THE BRAIN. The average proportion of the brain to the spinal cord is 23 to 1. The foetal progress of the human brain is wonderful. It first becomes a brain resembling that of a fish; THE HUMAN MACHINERY. 45 then it resembles that of a reptile; then that of a bird ; then it grows into the form of that of a mammiferous qiiadrujjed ; and finally it assumes the form in which we have it in man. The progress of the human brain as thus developed comprises an epitome of natural history, as if man were kindred to and a compendium of everything that lives. The average proportion of the brain to the spinal cord in the fish is only 3 to i ; in the reptile, 21^ to I ; in the bird, 3 to i ; and in the mam- malia, 4 to I ; but in man, is 23 to i. The nerves are all connected with the brain, directly or by the spinal marrow. These nerves, together with their branches and minute ramifications, probably exceed 10,000,000 in number, forming a body-guard outnumbering by far the greatest army ever marshaled. The brain of the male averages somewhat heavier than that of the female. The theory that, as a given quantity or weight of brain is necessary for the exercise of the mental faculties, therefore all men are provided with an equal quantity, has been lately exploded. Inquiry has demonstrated that there is a difference in the average brain weight of races and nations, and a still greater difference in that of individuals, as the follow- ing facts will show: AVERAGE WEIGHT OF BRAIN. Anglo-Saxons (English and American) 45.70 ounces. French 44-58 Germans 44.10 Italians 44.00 Americans (aboriginal race) 44-37 Hindoos 42.11 Kaffirs (Africans) 45.00 Negroes “ 40.50 Bushmen “ 38.00 Malays and Oceanic race, from 39.56 to 43.70 The maximum weight of human brain (Cuvier’s) is 64.50 ounces, which is, however, given by others as 63 ounces; the minimum weight (an idiot’s) is 20 ounces. The average weight of brain in Europeans is 48 ounces, troy, for adult males; and for females, 44. The heaviest individual brains on record, next to Cuvier’s, are: Daniel Webster’s and Baron 46 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. Dupuytren’s, each, 64 ounces; and Dr. Aber- crombie’s, 63 ounces; but that of the cele- brated pulpit orator. Dr. Chalmers, is said to have been only 53 ounces. The brain is the seat of thought. It is there that we think, and will, and reason; that we reflect upon the past, and make plans for the future. The brain, being a very deli- cate organ, requires great care and protection, and is lodged in the skull, which is the safest and strongest room in “ the house we live in.” This lodging place is sometimes called the “ Chamber of the soul ” ; and the brain itself THE HOME OF THE SOUL. In ancient times, and even in more modern periods, it w'as believed that the media of human intelligence were diffused throughout the body — or, according to the multiform beliefs of the Greeks and other peoples, located in the stomach, and in the heart and other portions of the body. It is within comparativ^ely recent dates that physiologists have agreed that the’ mind of man is located exclusively in the brain, and it is now gener- ally conceded that the generation of force in animal frames comes from the gray matter found in the brain and, to a lesser extent, in the spinal marrow. Dr. Hammond, of New York, and Prof. Huxley, of England, have each taken some- what of a departure from the standard of belief of the leading physiologists of this age. The former raises a doubt as to the brain being the sole location of what is termed the mind. In one of his public lec- tures he instanced the case of a frog, which, deprived of brains, will scratch itself when tickled, turn over when placed upon its back, and perform other acts of apparent conscious- ness. The acts of a headless snake or turtle are also used to illustrate the theory which Mr. Hammond advances, that the mental capacity of man is not all located within the bony walls of the skull. The uncon- scious acts of many persons, as walking while the mind is wholly absorbed in thought or conversation, are supposed to be independent of brain action. The source of action in such cases Dr. Hammond believes to be the spinal coi'd, and therefore attributes to it some portion of the mind’s existence or powers. Huxley advances the “automatic” theory, which has excited such a pointed criticism among both scientists and theologians, and which it is unnecessary to allude to any far- ther than by way of comparison with the dif- fused intelligence theory of Dr. Hammond. SIZES OF SKULLS. Out of 256 skulls carefully measured by himself, the late Dr. Morton constructed the following interesting table, showing the rela- tive capacity of the human skull, and indi- rectly the brain-power, in the different races: RACE. NO. OF SKULI^. CAPACITY IN CUBIC INCHES. MEAN. LARGEST. SMALLEST. Caucasian 52 87 109 75 Mongolian 10 83 93 69 Malay 18 81 89 64 American H7 82 109 60 Ethiopian .. 29 78 94 6S WEIGHT OF SKULLS very nearly the same size). A Greek ounces. “ Mulatto - 26 u “ Negro 32 (( Another Negro 283^ (( 21^ u A Congo “ 2714: « “ New Zealander 26^ u “ Chinese 2 T,A u “ Gipsy 32 u COMPOSITION OF BRAIN. The brain is a large, organized mass which, with its enveloping membranes, completely fills the cavity of the skull. It is a soft, jelly- like substance, very much like the marrow in our bones. The interior portion, which is of a whitish color, is composed of exceedingly small tubes, which are the beginnings of the THE HUMAN MACHI NERY. 47 nerves. There are two sets of nerves — those of feeling, and those of motion ; both are, as far as can be discovered, the same in structure and composition, but as the offices which they per- form are entirely different, there is something about them that the keenest physiologist can- not understand. Nor can we understand how the brain receives impressions through one set, and sends out messages and causes motion through another set, for this would be to understand how mind acts upon matter, and how the spiritual is connected with the mate- rial. The nerves are telegraph wires; and, to illustrate their uses, suppose you place your finger upon a pin point, which piercing the nerves of feeling, they instantly convey the intelligence to the brain, and, quick as a light- ning flash, a command is sent down over the nerves of motion to remove the finger. The nerves of feeling and motion spread all over and throughout the body, but in the head are found the still more wonderful nerves of hear- ing, seeing, smelling and tasting, each different in its functions from all the others, and capable of performing no other. PROPORTION OF SUBSTANCES IN BRAIN. Water about 75 Fat “ 9^ Albumen “ 7 Phosphorus “ 2^ Salts, Acids, etc “ 5^ 100 Holmes says, “ our brains are seventy-year clocks. The Angel of Life winds them up once for all, then closes the case, and gives the key into the hand of the Angel of the Resurrection. Tic-tac, tic-tac, go the wheels of thought; our will cannot stop them, they cannot stop themselves; sleep cannot stop them; madness only makes them go faster; death alone can break into the case, and, seiz- ing the ever-swinging pendulum, which we call the heart, silence at last the clicking of the terrible escapement we have carried so long beneath our wrinkled foreheads.” THE HEART. The average heart is six inches in length and four inches in diameter, and beats an average of 70 times per minute, 4,200 per hour, 100,800 per day, 36,792,000 per year, and 2,575,440,000 in three score years and ten. At each beat 214 ounces of blood are thrown out of it; 175 ounces per minute, 656 pounds per hour, 7^ tons per day. All the blood in the body passes through the heart in three minutes. This little organ by its ceaseless industry, “ In the allotted span The Psalmist gave to man,” exerts a power equal to lifting the enormous weight of 370,700,200 pounds. It is rather singular that the heart, instead of the liver, should have been considered in all ages the seat of the affections, especially since it is a physiological and psychological fact that on the condition of the latter organ mainly depends the nature of all the affec- tions, emotions, and passions. The thing ought to be changed. It would come a little awkward at first for one to call his “ sweet- heart ” his “ sweet-liver,” or to sing, “ home is where the liver is,” etc., etc.; but after a while, no doubt, we would get used to it. The ancients thought the heart to be the seat of love, purity, goodness, and the evil passions. Such common words as “large- hearted,” “ hearty,” etc., are remains of this fanciful theory. Modern science has found the seat of all the mental faculties to be in the brain. But while it has thus robbed the heart of its romance, it has revealed wonders that surpass all the mysteries of the past. Men have lived many days with bullets in their hearts. Instance the case of Poole, who was shot, several years since, in New York city. In Turin, Italy, a man of unsound mind told his relatives that he had thrust a needle into his chest, but they paid no atten- tion to his assertion. He lived twenty-two CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. months afterward, without manifesting any symptoms of disease in the region of the chest. He died, as was supposed, of nervous excitement. An autopsy was made, and a needle was found in the left ventricle of his heart, its point, after perforating the valve, penetrating into the left auricle. The heart in its ac- tion is involuntary; it beats without any fore- thought of ours, and without any direction from us. It is not, like the movement of our hands and feet, depend- ent on our will. How- ever, its labors gradu- ally wear upon it ; it cannot go on forever. It seems strange that it should keep going so long. But though it may exert itself mil- lions of times in our service, each pulsation brings it nearer and nearer to the end. No physical organism can be conceived of as not subject to decay and death; so that if Adam had not seen death it would have been through the added gift of immortality. “ Art is long, and Time is fleeting; And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.” THE LUNGS. The lungs will contain about i gallon or 231 cubic inches of air, at their usual degi'ee of inflation. We breathe, on an average, 1,200 times per hour, inhaling 200 gallons of air, or 4,800 gallons per day. The aggre- Breathing and Digestive Organs. gate surface of the air-cells of the lungs exceeds 20,000 square inches, an area nearly equal to the floor of a room twelve feet square. Of the amount of air in the lungs, one hundred cubic inches are retained for emergencies, and can only be forced out by an extra effort, as in singing, climbing, etc. The extra amount of air always on hand in the lungs is of great value, since thereby the action of the air goes on continuously. In the delicate cells of the lungs the air gives up its oxygen to the blood, and receives in return carbonic acid gas and water, foul with waste matter which the blood has gathered up in its circulation through the body. The perfection of the organs of respi- ration is wonderful. The lungs of an adult man contain over 600,- 000,000 air-cells. So delicate are they that the very least pressure would cause exquisite pain, yet tons of air surge through their intricate passages. We yearly perform at least 7,000,000 acts of breathing, inhaling about 150,000 cubic feet of air, and purifying over 3,500 tons of blood. This gigantic process goes on constantly, never wearying or worrying us. The breath which leaves the lungs has been so perfectly divested of its life-giving properties, that to rebreathe it, unmixed with other air, the moment it escapes the mouth, would eventually produce death by suffoca- tion; while, if it hovered about us, a more or less destructive influence ov£r health would THE HUMAN be occasioned. But it has become so much lighter than the common air, that the moment it escapes the lips and nostrils it ascends to higher regions, above the breathing jroint, there to be rectified and renovated by contact with the oxygen of the air, and sent back again into the lungs, replete with purit}^ and life, to renew its constant round of purification. How rapidly it ascends is beautifully exhibited any frosty morning. But foul and deadly as the expiring air is, nature, wisely economical in all her works and ways, turns it to good account in the outward passage through the organs of speech, and makes of it the whisper of love, the soft words of affection, the tender tones of human sympathy, the sweet strains of ravishing music, and the persuasive elo- quence of the finished orator. In the human lung the sides or walls of the air-cells are constituted of a thin, trans- parent memhrane, and the cajoillary vessels are situated between the walls of two adja- cent cells, so as to be exposed to the action of the air on both sides. The capacity of the lungs varies gi'eatly in different individ- uals. M. Bourgery concludes from his in- quiries that the development of the air-cells continues up to the age of thirty, at which time the respiratory capacity is greatest. Ac- cording to the experiments of Mr. Coathupe, about 266 cubic feet of air pass through the lungs of a middle-sized man in twenty- four hours. At the average number of six- teen inspirations per minute, the amount of air received at each inspiration would be twenty cubic inches. Mr. Hutchinson judges the capacity of the lungs by “the quantity of air which an individual can force out of his chest by the greatest Voluntary respi- ration.” Dr. Southwood Smith, from a series of experiments, estimates the volume of air received at an ordinary inspiration at one pint; the volume ordinarily present in the lungs at about twelve pints, and the volume expelled at an ordinary respiration at a little D MACH INERT. 49 less than a pint. He also concludes that in the mutual action which takes place between the air and blood, the air loses thirty-seven ounces of oxygen, and the blood fourteen ounces of carbon, every twenty-four hours. The lightness of the lungs depends upon the residuary air they contain, and when the lungs have been once inflated by a full inspi- ration, no force or mechanical power can again dislodge the air sufficiently to make them sink in water. It is this residuary air which supports life for a few minutes in cases of suffocation, immersion, etc. THE BLOOD. The average quantity in each person is about eighteen pounds. It is composed of a thin, colorless liquid filled with red disks or cells, so small that 3,500 placed side by side would only measure an inch, and it would take 18,000 laid flatwise upon one another to make a column an inch high. The disks have a tendency to collect in piles, like rolls of coin. They vary in size and shape in the blood of different animals — a fact of great value in criminal trials, since blood-stains on garments or weapons, under the microscope, reveal whether they are from mammalia, in- cluding human beings, or from other classes of animals. Science has not yet definitively settled whether such discrimination can be extended with positive certainty to the dif- ferent orders of mammalias, and the test is therefore to a great extent still inconclusive. The blood is no more red than the water of a stream would be if you were to fill it with little red fishes. Suppose the fishes to be very small — as a grain of sand — and closely crowded together through the whole depth of the stream, would not the water look red.? This is the way the blood looks red, only the grain of sand is a mountain in com- parison with the little red fishes of the blood. So minute are they that 1,000,000 would be contained in such a drop as would hang on CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 5 ° the point of a pin. The red disks are the air- cells of the blood. The blood contains various mineral substances, as iron (enough iron has been found in the ashes of a burned body to form a mourning ring), lime, phosphorus, soda, magnesia, potash, etc. COMPOSITION OF THE BLOOD. Water 78.40 Albumen 7.00 Fibrine .22 Red Corpuscles 14.10 Fat 13 Salts .60 Gases, etc .55 100.00 COMPOSITION OF DRIED BLOOD. Carbon about 56 Hydrogen - “ 6 Nitrogen “ 16 Oxygen “ 18 100 The arteries convey the blood from the heart outward to all the extremities, to nourish the system, while the veins are the channels by which the blood returns to the heart. The capillaries form a fine net-work of tubes, constituting the innumerable subdivisions of the arteries. These tiny tubes are so fine that the disks of the blood have to go through them one by one, and with great labor. The natural heat of the body is not far from one hundred degrees. This is maintained by the action of the oxygen; every capillary tube is a tiny stove where oxygen is combining with the muscles, tissues, etc., of the body. THE CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD. The portions of the system engaged in the circulation are the heart and arteries, the veins and lungs. The compression (systole) of the left auricle of the heart forces the red blood into the left ventricle, and this in turn contracting, drives it into the aorta and its branches, the arteries, and through these and their ramifications, the capillaries, to every part of the body. In the reverse action — dilatation (diastole) — the capillaries of the veins absorb the purple blood from the body and convey it into the veins, whence it is also called venous blood. The veins carry it back through the great sewers, the vence cavce., to the right auricle, whence through compression it flows into the right ventricle, the like compression of which drives it through the pulmonary artery, its subdivid- Organs of Circulation. ing branches and capillaries, into the lungs; whence, being purified and vitalized by con- tact with the oxygen from the minute and multitudinous air-cells, of which the lungs are mainly made up, it proceeds through the pulmonary veins into the left auricle, to be again ejected by compression into the ven- tricle and thence into the aorta and branches, as before ; and thus in a never-ending round the circulation continues until the process is finally closed in death. Perhaps’ this will be made still clearer to the unscientific reader by conceiving of the heart, — which by the way is ordinarily about the size of the closed fist, — as a hollow mus- cular tube of irregular shape" acted upon by THE HUMAN the involuntary muscles belonging to its four subdivisions, the right and left auricles and ventricles. These, alternately contracting and dilating under the action of the muscles, ori- ginate and continue the circulating process. Section of the Heart, etc. A, B, great veins; C, J, auricles; JD, K, ventricles ; E, L, M, N, (with lines) mark locations of various valves ; F, ventricle partition ; G, H, pulmonary artery to its division ; I, /, two pairs of pulmonary veins. The circulation might be further illustrated by comparing it to a wonderfully elaborate and microscopically minute system of irriga- tion and drainage. The left auricle and ven- tricle, the aorta, and the arteries with their capillaries, constitute the irrigatory system, through which the red arterial blood is driven by that wonderful force-pump the ever busy, beating heart. It is however to be borne in mind that this irrigation is internal and not on the surface, the arterial system being well embedded in the human frame-work, and thus protected from the accidents that, if not well-guarded against, would so often become fatal; while the venous system, not being so liable to fatal accidents, is nearer the surface. The drainage system may be said to begin with minute capillaries, which, also permeat- ing the whole body, convey their tiny rills to the veins, the veins flow into the two great veins called the upper and lower vena cava. MACHINERY. 51 these empty into the right auricle, and thence the blood is driven into the right ventricle. But here again the divinely formed organism of man evinces its infinite superiority; for the right ventricle does not constitute a mere cess-pool for the impure or disoxygenated blood brought thither from the whole body, but a central receptacle from which origi- nates a second and smaller circulating proc- ess, already described, by which the blood is brought into contact with the air in the lungs, and again made fit for service. The period required for a complete circuit of the blood in various animals, including man, is herewith given, in seconds: Horse 28 Man 20 Dog - - 15 Goat 13 Fox ii }4 Rabbit 7 THE STOMACH. As the blood has much to do with building and repairing “ the house we live in,” it will be interesting to know how it is manufactured. The blood is made from the food we eat, and, as may be stqq^osed, the quality of the blood depends considerably upon the quality of the materials used in its manufacture. The solid portions of our food are divided by chewing, and while the teeth are doing their duty, little sacs or glands in the side of the mouth throw out a liquid called saliva, which moistens the food so that it may glide easily down the throat into the stomach. The stomach is a sort of a bag that will hold on an average about five pints, and is formed of muscles run- ning in every direction, while the inner side is lined with vessels or sacs which contain a fluid called the gastric juice. When the food enters the stomach, the blood-vessels carry off any water that may be found there; then the gastric juice is poured out, and commences its work of dissolving the food, while the 52 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. muscles move this way and that way, mixing the food thoroughly with the gastric juice. This operation is continued with a steady action from two to five hours, until the food is reduced to a thin paste, called chyme. As soon as the food reaches this state, the mus- cles, seeming to know their business, move the chyme along to the small end of the stomach, where a door or valve opens to pass it through into the smaller intestines. If any portion of the food is not properl}' digested, the little valve will close against it, and turn it back into the stomach; and yet, while resisting, until completely exhausted, any attempt of the stomach to force undigested food through, it readily permits the passage of buttons, coins, pebbles, and any hard sub- stances that have been swallowed by accident. If the stomach succeeds in forcing indigesti- ble food through this little valve, it passes into the intestines, irritating them as it moves along, and often producing sickness. But if the stomach fails in the struggle, its muscles try to expel the unwholesome food through the original route, which occasions vomiting. But suppose good chyme passes this little doorway, /what is the next process? First, the liver pours upon the chyme a quantity of that bitter fluid called bile; then another organ, called the pancreas, empties upon it the pancreatic juice, and, with other liquids, converts a portion of the chyme into a thin fluid called chyle, and as this is carried along in the intestine it comes in contact with the mouths of numerous hair-like tubes known as lacteals, which absorb and convey it into the thoracic duct, the latter being the trunk of the absorbent vessels, and from thence through the veins into the heart, and then into the lungs, where it becomes vitalized by taking up oxygen and throwing off carbonic acid gas, as is elsewhere described. Oils and fat are not digested in the stomach, but pass into the intestines, and are acted upon by the bile. THE MUSCLES. While the bones give support and general form to the body, the instruments by which it is moved are the muscles, of which the human body contains 527. They are what in animals is known as flesh, or lean meat, as distinguished from fat, bone, sinew, or carti- lage. The muscles are made of bundles of very fine threads, called muscular fibers, side by side, surrounded or bound up in a thin skin-like covering or sheath. These threads or fibers are elastic, so that when stretched out they shrink back again, like India rubber. At the ends of the muscles these threads are changed into strong tendons or cords, which are firmly fastened to the bones. The mus- cles are of various shapes, and running in almost every direction, according to their various uses. As an illustration of their power, it may be mentioned that those of the average human jaw exert a force of five hundred and forty-four pounds. Every movement that is made hy any part of the body requires the action of at least two muscles : one to draw the part in one direction, and the other to yield and then draw it back, both acting, at the command of the brain, through the nerves of motion. However, the 'muscles used in THE HUMAN MACHINERY. 53 breathing and in moving the blood through the system, act independently, and are be- yond the control of the will. The former are called voluntary, and the latter invol- untary muscles. If no exercise he given to a muscle, it becomes thin, weak, and flabby; but if proper exercise is given, the movement Principal Mtiscles. Ay upper firm; By C, Dy fore-arm; Ey back-arm; Ey neck ; Gy arm-pit; Hy rib and shoulder-blade; /, abdominal; Ly Ky upper thigh; OyPy lower thigh ; Ry outer and inner hamstrings; Sy Ty calves of the legs. Muscular Man. of the blood in the artery which nourishes it is quickened, a full supply of nourishment is provided, and the muscle attains its proper shape and power. The effect of vigorous exercise is seen in the muscles in the arm of a blacksmith, which, though the}' do not in- crease in number but only in the bulk of the elementary fibers, become hard and firm, while other muscles, but little used, are small and feeble. One law j^revails throughout the entire body. If little or no exercise is taken, the whole body will be literally starved ; for while the blood flows in a sluggish stream, it very poorly performs its office of building up the body and keeping it in repair. THE SKIN. The skin is composed of three layers, and varies from one-fourth to one-eighth of an inch or less in thickness. The first layer is the cuticle, or thin, external surface membrane, porous, but without nerves or blood-vessels, called also the epidermis. The second is the 7-ete 7nucosum, or mucous net-work, a coagu- lated substance lying immediately beneath the cuticle which gives the variations of color to the skin. This is a secretion from the true skin — and hence some physiologists distin- guish only two layers — and the density of color in negroes is ascribed by Blumenbach to carbon and the increase of bilious secretions in hot climates. The third is the true skin, called also the dermis, which is a dense resist- ing membrane, fibrous and flexible, forming the envelope of the body, and liberally sup- plied with both nerves and blood-vessels. In it are the papillae, or nipple-like elevations that serve to convey the sense of touch; the sweat-glands, with their ducts leading to the pores; and the oil-glands, with similar ducts communicating with the roots of the hair. The outside skin, or cuticle, is made up of scales like those of a fish; a single grain of sand would cover one hundred and fifty of them, and yet each covers five hundred pores. Through these narrow openings the perspira- tion forces itself, like water through a sieve. The amount of fluid exhaled from the skin and lungs in twenty-four hours averages from three to four pounds, carrying off substances which would be injurious if allowed to remain. In addition to the nerves, capillary blood- 54 CURIOSITIES OR HUMAN LIFE. vessels, oil tubes, and perspiratory tubes, the skin contains a system of tubular vessels called lynaphatics, or absorbents, which open out- wardly under the surface of the cuticle or scarfskin, while inwardly they open into the veins. The mouths of these absorbents take up substances exposed upon the skin, carry them through their little tubes, empty them into the veins, whence they are carried to the heart, and then sent all over the system. It is by the lymphatics that the poison from the bite of a snake or mad dog is carried into the system. And it is also through the lymphat- ics that the process of vaccination is consum- mated and accom- plishes such a great work. At times, when the stomach refuses a medicine, the physician gives it by binding it on the skin, after first removing the cuticle by a blister. Bathers have noticed that the sensation of thirst soon abates after entering the water. The average surface of the skin in an adult is estimated to be over two thousand square pheric pressure being about fourteen pounds to the square inch, a person of medium size is subjected to a pressure of fifteen tons. Each square inch of skin contains 3,528 sweating tubes, each of which may be likened to a little drain-tile nearly one-fourth of an inch long, making an aggregate length for the entire surface of the body of 147,000 feet, or a tile ditch almost twenty-eight miles long. mm Section of Skin. {Magnified 30 diameters.') a, Cuticle. b, Papillary structure. Cy Cutis verUy or true skin. dy Sweat-g’landlyingf in a cav- ity on the deep surface of the skin, and imbedded in g-lobules of fat. Its duct is seen passing to the sur- face. inches. The atmos- THE SENSES. The common reckoning includes the Five Senses — Taste, Smell, Touch, Hearing, Sight — but this is not now considered ex- haustive or complete. For example, the feelings of hunger, thirst, suffocation, internal warmth and chill- iness, etc., have all the characters implied in an ordinary sensation: they are the result of some external agent acting on a distinct bodily organ, and giving rise to feeling, sometimes pleasurable and sometimes painful. In order that these states, related to the sen- sibility of the different viscera, may find a place among the senses, they have been grouped under one general head, and desig- nated “Sensations of Organic Life.” They are of great importance as regards our enjoy- ments and our sufferings, although not contrib- uting much to our knowledge or intelligence. They approach nearest to taste and smell, the more emotional senses, and are at the furthest remove from the intellectual senses — touch, hearing and sight. Again, the feelings connected with our activity, or with the exercise of the muscu- lar organs — as the pleasures of exercise and rest, the pains of fatigue, the sensibility to weight, resistance, etc. — were, until lately, overlooked in the philosophy of the mind. When they bega;n to be recognized, it was common to treat them as a sixth sense, called the muscular sense. But this does not rep- resent their true position. They do not arise from external agents opei'ating on a sensitive part, but from internal impulses proceeding outwards to stimulate the muscular energies, and to bring about movements ; they are thus the contrast of the senses generally. Sense is associated with the ingoing nerve-currents ; movement, with the outgoing. The contrast is vital and fundamental; and accordingly, the feelings of movement and muscular strain should be considered as a genus distinct from and not a species of, the genus sense. THE HUMAN MACH INERT. 55 The classilication of the fundamental sensi- bilities of the mind would then stand thus; I. Feelings of Muscular Energy. II. Sen- sations of the Senses. These last are divided into: I. Sensations of Organic Life; 2. Sen- sations of the Senses jDroper. And this class is further subdivided into the Emotional — Smell, Taste; and the Intellectual — Touch, Hearing, Sight. The special senses have a double set of special organs, precisely as each mental fac- ulty has a double organ, viz., one in each hemisphere of the brain — and both the spe- cial senses and the mental powers require, for their proper manifestation, a healthy con- dition of their organs, respectively. The organs are all double, so that if one, from accident or other cause, becomes defective, the other will do the work as well as one can. One eye can see, but two eyes can see better, and so, we presume, as to all the organs of sense and faculties of the mind. Why one eye or one ear, one arm or one leg, gives out and the other remains good; why one tooth decays and another does not, may not be explicable — yet the facts remain. Occasionally one is born blind or deaf, or in some way decrepit, and no one can give the reason, but no doubt a reason exists. THE EYE. This organ has been very appropriately called the “ window of the soul.” It opens to us, by its wonderful mechanism, a world of beauty; and it probably contributes more to the enjoyment and happiness of man than any other organ through which the mind holds communion with the outside world. There is dust on the sea and the land — in the valley and on the mountain top — there is dust always and everywhere. The atmos- phere is full of it. It penetrates the noisome dungeon, and visits the deepest and darkest caves of the earth. No palace door can shut it out; no drawer is so secret as to escape its presence. Every breath of wind dashes it upon the open eye, which yet is not blinded, 1 because there is a fountain of the blandest j fluid in nature incessantly emptying itself • under the eyelid, which spreads itself over ' the surface of the eyeball at every winking, and washes every atom of dust away. This j liquid, so well adapted to the eye itself, has some acridity, which, under certain circum- stances, becomes so decided as to be scalding to the skin, and would rot away the eyelids, were it not that along the edges of these are little oil manufactories, which spread over their surface a coating as impervious to the liquids necessary for keeping the eyeballs washed clean, as the best varnish is impervi- ous to water. It is on the retina (the disk-like expansion of the optic nerve, at the back of the eyeball) that the images of objects looked at, near or far, are beautifully pictured or photographed. We cannot look without wonder upon the smallness, yet correctness, of these pictures. Thus, a landscape of several miles in extent is brought into the space of a gold dollar, yet the objects which it contains ai'e all distinctly portrayed in their relative magnitudes, posi- tions, figures, and colors, with a fineness and delicacy of touch to which art can make no approach. Yet the mechanical part of this 56 CUR'IOSITIBS OF HUMAN LIFE. apparatus — its beautiful structure, its perfect adaptation to the laws of light, and its ready adjustment to meet the ever-varying degrees of light, and shade, and distance — are far less wonderful than the mental or spiritual part, the manner in which the pictures on the retina are made known to the mind or soul within, through the medium of the ' optic Muscles of Eye. nerve. The former is a mechanical wonder, of which we comprehend sufficient to excite our unbounded admiration ; the latter is a spiritual mystery, of which we know nothing but the bare fact itself. There is a tendency of the eye to enlarge the upper part of any object upon which it Inversion of Objects. looks. To illustrate — here are a row of ordinary capital letters, figures, etc.: SSSSXXXXxxxxssss88888ssssxxxxXXXXSSSS They are such as are made up of two parts of apparently equal size. Look carefully at these, and you will perceive that the upper halves of the characters are a very little smaller than the lower halves — so little that an ordi- nary eye will declare them to be of equal size. Now turn the page upside down, and without any careful looking, you will see that this dif- ference in size is very much underrated ; that the real top half of the letter is veiy much smaller than the hottom half. Addison, in one of his celebrated essays in the Sfectator^ says : “ Our sight is the most delightful of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments.” THE EAR. The ear or the organ of hearing, one of the most necessary to animal welfare and most exquisite of the human senses of enjoyment, is situated at the side of the head, and is divided into the external and internal ear, viz. : the passive part which collects and transmits the undulations of heaten or vibrating air, and which we commonly call the ear, though it is only the porch or vestibule of that organ; kcus fAueus ^TApes SEMi-CIRCULAn Cpimcs Mestibule CoCHl/TA Front View of Organ of Hearing. and the functional portion, where those vibra- tions, like a skillful orchestra, play exquisite music on the instrument itself, carrying the perfected notes to the appreciating intelligence of the brain. The external part, in man, con- sists of a broad, thin, and bent cartilage, cov- ered with a delicate cuticle, and attached to the head by cellular tissue' and integument. THE HUMAN MACHINERY. 57 and by a series of muscles called anterior, posterior, and superior, but which in man are mere rndimentary, as it is a remarkable cir- cumstance to meet with an individual possess- ing the power to move the external ear. In the lower animals, however, these muscles are highly developed, and the sensitive manner in which the ear is moved backward or for- ward by the hare, cat, deer, horse, or hound, is a peculiarity in this class ot animals, to enable it, without the motion of the head, to hear in what direction danger may be antici- pated. With man, however, to whom sight is almost as necessary as sound, the motion of the head is needed, consequently the muscles of the ear are in a state of abeyance; they are certainly present, hut they are powerless to act. This external cartilage, called concha., pinna., or auricle., is a mere passive piece of Small Bones of the Ear. gristle, admirably adapted to catch every ray of vibration, and by its different hollows and channels convey the entire of the collected sound into the meatus exter?ius, or outward tube or channel, that portion which in wash- ing we clear out of wax and dust. At the end of this meatus., or air-passage, the length of which depends on the age of the person, but seldom exceeding twelve lines, is situated the cavity of the ty7npanufn., or middle ear, which comprises the tympanum, the three little bones of the ear, the mastoid cells, cavities in the mastoid process of the temporal bone, and the Eustachian tube, a very fine and minute cellu- lar tube, conveying air from the external ear to the back of the mouth. This is the channel by which mountebanks expel water and smoke from their mouths through their ears, and accounts for the fact of deaf people so often keeping their mouths open while con- versing, as a certain amount of sound is carried by the mouth along the Eustachian tube to the cavity of the tympanum. The tympanum is an opening between the inner and the outer ear, covered on its external side by a thin, tense membrane, like the top of a drum, from which rude resemblance, indeed, it derives its name. A thin mucous membrane, of the same nature throughout, covers the cells and cavities and all the parts adjacent to the tym- panum. Between the external opening and the membrane of the tympanum, a chain of three very minute bones is irregularly stretched, the malleus., hammer, incus, anvil. Cochlea L,aid Open. and the stapes, or the stirrup, as they are called, from a fanciful resemblance to these articles. The space beyond the tympa- num or drum is called the internal ear, or labyrinth, and is composed of the cochlea or shell, the semicircular canals, and the vestibule; all these parts are deeply seated in the head, and seem to have been scooped out of the solid rock of the thickest part of the temporal bone. A small trumpet-shaped opening in the bone of the inner ear, and which leads right through the bone, is called the meatus auditorius i7iter7ius, or internal auditory passage. Through this passage descends from the brain the seventh or audi- tory nerve, which having sent off one half CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 58 of its bulk under the name of the •portio dura., or facial nerve, the other part, or portio mollis., divides into three branches, one going to the cochlea, another to the semicircular canals, and the third to the vestibule, upon and over each, of which they expand, divide and ramify in the most elaborate manner, every part being coated, as it were, by a sensitive nervous covering. THE NOSE. The nose acts like a custom-house officer to the system. It is highly sensitive to the odor of the most poisonous substances. It readily detects hemlock, henbane, monk’s- hood, and the plants containing prussic acid; it recognizes the fetid smell of drains, and warns us not to inhale the polluted air. The nose is so sensitive that it distinguishes air containing the two-hundred-thousandth part of a grain of the ottar of rose, or the fifteen- millionth part of a grain of musk. It tells us in the morning that our bedrooms are im- pure, and catches the fragrance of the morn- ing air, and conveys the invitation of the flowers to go forth into the field and inhale their sweet breath. To be led by the nose has hitherto been used as a phrase of reproach ; but to have a good nose, and to follow its guidance, is one of the safest and shortest ways to the enjoyment of health. The pernicious habit of breathing through the mouth, while sleeping or waking, is very hurtful. There are many persons who sleep with the mouth open, and do not know it. They may go to sleep with it closed, and wake with it closed; but if the mouth is dry and parched on waking, it is a sign that the mouth has been open during sleep. Snoring is a certain sign. This habit should be over- come. At all times, except when eating, drinking, or speaking, keep the mouth firmly closed, and breathe through the nostrils, and retire with a firm determination to conquer. The nostrils are the proper breathing appa- ratus — not the mouth. A man may inhale poisonous gases through the mouth without being aware of it, but not through the nose. In winter the cold air should be breathed through the nose, thus tempering and pre- paring it for entering the lungs without in- jury to them, and thereby preventing many a cough or cold. THE VOICE. The human voice, when speaking with clear articulation and supplied from good lungs, will fill 400,000 cubic feet of air, pro- vided they be inclosed in a proper manner, and the voice placed and directed advanta- geously. The same voice, singing, can fill, with equal facility, 600,000 cubic feet. When singing, the vowels are principally used, be- cause it is necessary to dwell upon a note, and we cannot pi'olong a consonant. In speaking, on the contraiy, we depend for articulation on the consonants; but their short, percussive sound does not travel. When we shout, or in open-air speaking, which partakes of shouting, we prolong the vowels, drawling the syllables of each word; but what we gain in sound, we lose in clear- ness of articulation;-’ expression is lost in monotony, because its fineness depends on the infinite variety of which the consonants are capable and which they bestow on the vowels. Two thousand voices singing or speaking to- gether travel no farther than one voice. They may fill a certain area more completely with that intricacy of waves which, when very troublesome, we call din ; but each voice exerts its own influence on the air according to its power, and dies away within certain limits. A second voice acts independently and pro- duces its own separate effect, not foi'tifying the first, but distinct from it. And so with any number of voices — say 10,000 — shout- ing together; if a single trumpeter were placed among them, the note of his trumpet would be heard clearly at a distance where THE HUMAN the babel of voices would have exj^ircd in a murmur. Yet among the din produced by the 10,000 voices, the trumpet would be in- audible. To illustrate this theory more clearly, it is plain that two thousand persons cannot throw stones farther than one person. It is true that the air, within certain limits, will be more full of stones ; but they will all come to the ground within a limited area. THE HAIR. Somebody has been at the trouble of cal- culating the average number of hairs which grow on an average person’s head. It is found that the number varies according to the color of the hair. Light or blonde hair is the most luxuriant, the average of this color being 140,000 hairs. When the hair is brown, the number is much less, being only 110,000, while black hairs reach only the average amount of 103,000. It might naturally be supposed that a light-haired person, having the most hair, would have the greatest weight to carry; but it is not so. That which is the lightest in color is also lightest in weight; and a lady with abundant flaxen locks is as light-headed as one whose tresses are of a raven hue. Hence it follows that the former is of a flner texture. The hair, it is said, will sometimes grow after the death of the body. Next to the teeth and bones, the hair is the most indestructible part of the body, and its color is often preserved for many years after other portions have gone to decay. REMARKABLE PRESERVATION OF HAIR. In a cofHn, belonging to the Norman period, taken up in an old abbey church of England in 1839, the hair of the female occu- pant was found entire, and having plaited tails eighteen inches in length. NOTIONS OF THE ANCIENTS ABOUT HAIR. Lank hair was thought to indicate coward- ice; frizzly hair, clumsiness; hair terminating in ringlets was the most esteemed. Dares, MA CHINE R r. 59 the reputed ante-homeric author of the Phrygian Iliad, states that Achilles and Tel- amon Ajax had curling locks. Such also was the hair of Timon of Athens. The Emjjeror Augustus had such abundant locks that they defied imitation! Auburn or light brown represented to their fancy great sus- cejDtibility to love, as well as peacefulness, amiability, industry and intelligence. Castor and Pollux had brown hair; so had Mene- laus. Black hair does not seem to have been held in any especial repute, probably because it was, then as now, the invariable possession of the inferior races. Red hair was an object of distrust and aversion, being held to indicate treachery and wickedness. Typhon, the mythical usurper of Egypt, and murderer of his brother Osiris, was red-haired ; Esau was red-haired, and wicked (or foolish) enough to sell his birth- right; and Nebuchadnezzar grew red-haired when “ he was driven from men, and made to eat grass like an ox,” in punishment of his pride! Judas Iscariot is popularly believed to have been red-haired; but, alas! for the theorists, so was St. Paul. The Greeks considered long hair a beauti- ful adornment; but the Egyptians removed the hair as an incumbrance, using light wigs in preference. The Hebrew women gloried in long hair, which they decorated with gold and precious stones. The Roman ladies dyed their hair to suit a varying fashion, and also wore artificial hair, twining both after many fanciful devices. BEARDS AND SHAVING. Connected with the subject of beards there is much that is curious and interesting. The diflTerence which the beard exhibits in differ- ent countries would alone form a curious matter for inquiry. It is the cherished ap- pendage of some nations, the despised excres- cence of others; some have it in profusion, others are almost without it. In hot countries the beard is dark, dry, hard and thin ; in cold. 6o CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. thick, curling, and light in color. Poor, diy and indigestible food renders the beard hard and bristly; while wholesome and digestible nutriment makes it soft. Civilized life appears to be most favorable for producing luxuriant beards. Savages are seldom furnished with large ones; though there is, perhaps, no people, however savage, upon whose chins a few stunted and stray hairs do not appear. At one time it was believed that the Indians were naturally des- titute of beards; but stricter inquiry has since shown that they pull out, root and branch, the scanty supply of hair with which their chins are furnished. In this they are not alone; and it may be generally stated that those on whose faces no culture can raise a decent beard, consider the little they possess a deformity of which they would be well rid. Excepting the Greeks and Romans, all the nations of antiquity appear to have prized and cultivated the beard. Even in Greece it was worn until Alexander’s time, b. c. 336-23, and in Rome until about B. c. 200. In both nations beards were retained by the philosophers and priests long after they were given up by the mass of the people. Among the Egyptians, on the other hand, it was the priests that shaved, and not only the face, but the head and the whole body. In times of mourning, however, they let their beards grow; and so did the Romans, after they became a shaven people; while the Greeks, in tire time of beards, on similar occasions, were accustomed to shave. After the abolition of beards, among the Romans a long beard became a token of its owner being a slave. On the other hand, the Franks, who were a bearded nation, ordered all bondsmen to shave the chin. In the middle ages, beards were generally in high esteem. Among the early French monarchs it was the custom to attach three hairs of the sovereign’s beard to the seal of all important official documents, which prob- ably became so numerous as to threaten the royal beard with extinction, and the custom was abolished. The natives of Europe, generally speaking, are now a shaven people, while the Asiatics are as generally bearded. Among Asiatics, the Persians have the finest and best culti- vated beards; we shall, therefore, bestow a few remarks upon Persian beards. The Persians, in early times, paid extreme atten- tion to their beards. According to Chrys- ostom, their kings had them interwoven with gold thread. During one dynasty, however, only one mustachio was allowed. But at the present time the ancient zeal for them has revived, and the king has a mag- nificent specimen — one reaching to the waist, and claiming the admiration and adoration of his numerous subjects. Naturally, the beards of the Persians grow to a larger size than those of any other people. Mostly, they are black by nature; but the practice of dyeing, either to strengthen the intensity of the black or to give that color where it does not exist, is universal. The operation of dyeing is both tedious and painful, and must be undergone every foi'tnight. It is always performed in the hot bath, as the hair is then saturated, and takes the color better. At first the beard is plastered over with a thick paste of henna, which, after remaining for about an hour, is washed away, leaving the beard of a deep' orange color, bordering on that of brick-dust. Many of the common people are so captivated by the meteoric appearance of beards, produced by this first application, that they decline having it changed to black. In the second operation, another paste, made from the leaf of the indigo, is applied in the same manner and allowed to remain for two hours, after which the patient leaves the bath, gi'aced with a dark, bottle-green beard, which in the course of twenty-four hours becomes a jet-black. Throughout all this, the patient is obliged to lie on his back; THE HUMAN MACH/NERr. 61 while the dye, in the application of the second preparation, causes the lower part of his face to smart and burn, and contracts the features in a most mournful manner. The whole operation is one of great delicacy, and often residts in a purple or parti -colored beard. The comparative advantages and propriety of shaving and of permitting the beard to grow it is not easy to determine. Much that is good has been said for both sides; yet, after all, it seems more a matter of taste than anything else. The practice of shaving probably origi- nated at first from its being found that the beard afforded too good a hold for an enemy in battle; and for this cause shaving was originally ordered by Alexander among the Macedonians and Greeks, who continued the practice until Justinian’s time, eight hundred years later, when long beards came again into fashion, and so remained until after Con- stantinople was taken by the Turks, in the year 1453. The Romans appear to have derived the custom of shaving from the Sicil- ians, who were of Greek origin; and the refinement of daily shaving was first intro- duced by no less a personage than Scipio Africanus. At the close of the Republic, beards were rare; and some of the emperors lived in great fear of having their throats cut by their barbers. F or the sake of hiding the scars on his face, the Emperor Hadrian wore a beard, and this of course brought that appendage again into use; but the cus- tom did not long survive him. Among the Romans, shaving did not com- mence with the appearance of the hair; the youth was permitted to raise a small beard, which was shorn for the first time with great ceremony. Persons of rank had the opera- tion performed for their sons by men in rank higher than themselves; and by this act such person became the youth’s adopted father. The day was kept as a festival, visits were paid to the young man, and he received pres- ents from his friends. The first crop of beard was solemnly consecrated, generally, to the household gods. In Russia, Peter the Great enforced the shaving of his people, but the compulsory fashion soon died out. In England, beards were not fashionable after the Norman Conquest in 1066, until the thirteenth century. They went out of fash- ion at the Restoration in 1660, but have revived since 1830. In our own country, the wearing of beards became a kind of necessity to the California emigrants in 1S49, and has ever since been steadily growing in popularity, until the peo- ple bid fair to become a nation that will eschew the razor altogether. FALSE HAIR. About the year 1865 the fashion of decorat- ing the female head by tbe addition of false hair began to spread rapidly outside of F ranee, and in a very short time had made its way into almost every civilized country in the world. It became immensely po|Dular every- where, and even women of the lowest rank aspired to the honor of possessing chigno 7 is. The jDi'ice of human hair rose rapidly in consequence of this suddenly increased de- mand. In 1866 unprepared hair was sold in France for twenty francs per pound; in 1867 for thirty-five francs; in 1868 for forty-five francs; and in 1870 for fifty-five francs. That which had been prepared for use brought twice and three times those amounts. Since that time it has been declared by skillful j^hysicians that the use of additional hair of any kind is very apt to produce a bad effect upon the head of the wearer, and that many severe headaches, nervous fevers, and other painful affections of a similar character, are directly traceable to the constant weight and heat upon the head, and strain upon the roots of the real hair, which this fashion nec- essarily involves to a greater or less extent. 62 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. THE HANDS. Nothing is more remarkable, as forming a part of the prospective design to prepai'e an instrument fitted for the various uses of the human hand, than the manner in which the delicate and moving apparatus of the palm and fingers is guarded. The power with which the hand grasps, as when a sailor lays hold of the rope to raise his body in the rig- ging, would be too great for the texture of mere tendons, nerves, and vessels; they would be cracked were not every part that bears the pressure defended with a cushion of fat, as elastic as that which is in the foot of the horse and the camel. To add to this purely passive defense, there is a muscle which runs across the palm, and more especially supports the cushion on its inner edge ; it is this muscle which, raising the edge of the pahu, adapts it to lave water, forming the cup of Diogenes, There are over fifty muscles of the upper extremities, more or less subservient to the uses of the hand, multiplying indefinitely the possible combinations of that unique human instrumentality. Hence Ray has said with as much truth as eloquence : “ Some ani- mals have horns; some have hoofs; some, teeth; some, talons; some, claws; some, spurs and beaks. Man hath none of all these, but is weak and feeble, and sent unarmed into the world. Why, a hand, with reason to use it, supplies the use of all these!” The finger-nails grow their full length in four and a half months. A man seventy years of age has renewed his finger-nails one hundred and eighty -six times. Allowing each nail to be half an inch long, he has grown seven feet nine inches of nail on each finger, and on fingers and thumbs togethei', a total of seventy-seven feet and six inches. THE FOOT. The general arrangement of the foot is greatly like that of the hand. The graceful I arch of the foot, and the numerous bones joined by cartilages, gives an elasticity to the step which could never be attained by a single, fiat bone. Few persons in civilized nations, however, have naturally formed feet. The great toe is crowded upon the others, while crossed toes, in-grown nails, big joints, corns and bunions abound. The cause of these deformities is found in the shape and size of fashionable boots and shoes. There is too much desire to get a No. 6 foot into a No. 5 shoe. The following anonymous poem conveys a useful moral: THE FOOT'S COMPLAINT. I T ’S really too bad,” cried the Foot, in a fever, “That I am thus walking and walking forever; My mates are to honor and indolence thrust. While here I am doomed to the mud and the dust. “There ’s the Mouth — he ’s the fellow for all the nice things; And the Ear only wakes when the dinner-bell rings ; The Fland with his rings decks his fingers so white ; And as to the Eye, he sees every fine sight.” “ Stay, stay,” said the Mouth ; “ don’t you know, my dear brother. We all were intended to help one another.^ And surely you can’t be thought useless and mean. On whom all the rest so entirely must lean. “ Consider, my friend, we are laboring, too. And toiling (nay, don’t interrupt me) for you ; Indeed, were it not for the Hand, Mouth, and Eye, Of course, you know well, you would falter and die. “ I eat, but ’tis onl^' that you may be strong ; The Hand works for you, friend, all the day long; And the Eye — he declares he shall soon lose his sight, So great are his efforts to guide you aright.” . The foot, in reply, could find nothing to say, For he felt he had talked in a culpable way. And owned the reproof was both wise and well-meant ; For, wherever we are, we should there be content. TEMPERATURE OF THE BODY. To the uneducated it appears no less erroneous to say that the body is equally warm on a cold winter morning as on the most sultry of the dog-days, than to affirm that the sun is stationary, contrary to the apparent evidence of the senses; yet the one THE HUMAN M AC H I N ERY. 63 is as well ascertained as the other. For ex- ample, at Ceylon, Dr. Davy found that the temperature of the native inhabitants differed only about one or two degrees from the oi'dinary standard in England. Aged per- sons are generally thought to be more sus- ceptible of cold than the young. The heat of human beings has, however, been proved to be veiy nearly the same, whatever may be their age, their type, or the race to which they belong; and whatever may be the nature of their food, as the comparative re- searches of Dr. Davy prove, from the priests of Buddha, the Hindoos, eaters of rice, and the aborigines of India, the descendants of the Padaeans of Flerodotus (3 199), who live entirely on animal food. The normal temperature of the body is 98.4°, Fahrenheit; and a persistent elevation above 99-5°, or a depresssion below 97.3°, indicates the presence of disease. It reaches as low as 77° in cholera, and as high as 106° in fever; if it reach 110°, the disease is almost certain to prove fatal. It reaches to the greatest height in scarlatina and tetanus, or lock-jaw, rising to 112° and 112.5°. In a healthy condition of body tbe standard temperature is maintained irrespective of the labor performed; thus a furnace-tender may endure 350° of heat for a short time without materially affecting the temperature of his body ; but he will lose weight by the perspi- ration incidental to such exposure. An increase of terhperature above 98.4° corresponds to an increase of ten beats of the pulse in a minute, thus: Normal temperature, 98- -Pulsations to a minute, 60 Increased “ 99 -- “ “ 70 “ " 100. . “ “ 80 BODILY PROPORTIONS. The proportions of the human figure are strictly mathematical. The whole is six times the length of the foot. Whether the form be^ slender or plump, the rule holds good; any deviation from it is a departure from the highest beauty of proportion. The Greeks made all their statues according to this rule. The face, from the highest point of the fore- head where the hair begins, to the chin, is one-tenth of the whole stature. The hand, from the wrist to the tip of the middle finger, is the same. From the top of the chest to the highest point of the forehead, is a seventh. If the face, from the roots of the hair to the chin, be divided into three equal parts, the first division determines the place where the eyebrows meet, and the second the j^lace of the nostrils. The height from the feet to the top of the head is the distance between the extremities of the fingers when the arms are extended. STATURE. An erroneous notion obtains belief, that the present stature of the human race is consider- ably less than it has been in past ages. This error may, in part, have originated in the olden tales of men of gigantic stature, which are now almost universally discredited. At the same time, it is extremely probable that the size of the race, notwithstanding some local variations, has not sensibly diminished; and, not only from the concurrence of many kinds of proofs supported by historical evi- dence from the earliest known periods, but from considerations of science in the absence of all monuments, it may be infeiTed that there has been no material change since the origin of mankind. Some facts concerning giants and dwarfs may be of interest. GIANTS. First, there were the great Scripture giants, Goliath of Gath, and Og, king of Bashan. The former was six cubits and a span high (i Samuel 17:4), variously estimated to be from nine feet six inches to eleven feet, which it is conjectured may have included his helmet. Og is supposed to have been even taller, from the fact that his bedstead is 64 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. mentioned in Deuteronomy 3:11, as being “ nine cubits long ” ; but it is suggested, in qualification, that not his height is recorded, but the length of his bedstead; and we are therefore left to conjecture his actual height. Homer seems to have intended to convey an idea of the uncommon size of Achilles, when he says : “And now he shakes his great paternal spear, Ponderous and huge, which not a Greek could rear. From Pelion’s cloudy top an ash entire Old Chiron fell’d, and shaped it for his sire; A spear which stern Achilles only wields. The death of heroes, and the dread of fields.” Descending to more certain evidence, there is no doubt that in exceptional cases a height of between eight and nine feet, and probably of more than nine feet, has been attained. There is a skeleton in the Museum of Trin- ity College, Dublin, eight feet six inches in height; that of Byrne, in the Museum of the College of Surgeons of England, is eight feet two inches; and that of a giant in the Museum at Bonn is eight feet. Ga- bara, the Arabian giant, is said to have been nine feet nine inches high; the emperor Maxi- minus, eight feet six inches; Jacobus Damian, eight feet; Walter Parsons, seven feet four inches; William Evens, seven feet six inches. Concerning giants, the rule is that they are of feeble intellect; and on the other hand, the men who have accomplished the most of the individual deeds of greatness have been rather small men. Napoleon was only about five feet four; Washington was five feet seven and a half; Lord Nelson was a small man; William III. was a small man, and his greatest adversary, Luxemburg, was a mei'e dwarf. Cromwell was about the size of Grant, and Phil. Sheridan is of smaller stature than either of the last named. One of the greatest of American statesmen, Alex. H. Stephens, has never weighed over one hundred and fif- teen pounds; and the late Stephen A. Douglas was popularly known as the “little giant.” The giants, however, seem to have more mental ability than the dwarfs. The lat- ter have always been considered legitimate subjects of amusement for their full-grown contemporaries. Julia, the daughter of Au- gustus Cassar, is said to have had in her service a dwarf, Coropas, two feet four inches high; and a maid, Andromeda, of about the same height; and Augustus himself is stated to have exhibited in his plays a dwarf not quite two feet high. Alypius of Alexandria, a sophist of the fourth century, and Philetas of Cos, an elegiac poet, three centuries before Christ, who are sometimes given as remarka- ble dwarfs, were probably more notable for fragility and thinness than for smallness of stature. There was Sir Geoflfrey Hudson, a dwarf, only eighteen inches high. He was the plaything of that Duchess of Bucking- ham who lived in 1619. There was Hopens the dwarf, who was thirty-one inches high and weighed only twelve pounds. As many curious questions in regard to dwarfs are indirectly answered by one of the most famous of the class in a memoir written by bimself, it has been thought worth while to give some details from that unique work. COUNT JOSEPH BOROWLASKI OF POLAND. He was one of the six children of parents marked by no peculiar characteristics. Of the children, the first, third and fifth were dwarfs, while the other three were of the normal type. Of the dwarfs, the oldest, a son, was three feet six inches ; and the young- est, a daughter Anastasia, was two feet two inches when she died at the age of twenty- two. The other was the “ Count,” who was born in in 1739, and developed as follows: In 1740, being i year old, he was 14 inches high. “ 174.';. “ 6 (< 17 a i 749 > “ 10 a 31 a “ 1754. “ 15 a 2,1 “ 17.19. “ 20 • “ 28 u “ 1764. “ 25 u 35 “ 1769. “ 30 u. 39 THE HUMAN M ACII INERT. 65 He had married, at the age of 40, a woman of ordinary size; and died in 1837 at the age of 98, leaving several well-formed children. In our own time and country we have General Tom Thumb, Commodore Nutt, Minnie Warren, and others. Tom Thumb (Chas. S. Stratton) was born at Bridgeport, Conn., in 1837, and in 1843 was not quite two feet high, and weighed a little less than sixteen pounds. In 1863, being twenty-five years old, and thirty-one inches high, he married Lavinia Warren, aged twenty-one, and thirty-two inches high. Exhibited bimself, wife and child in 1864, with Commodore Nutt, and his wife’s sister. Not one of all these dwarfs has ever been noted for more than ordinary intelligence. WEIGHT. Upon the average, boys, at birth, weigh a little more than seven pounds (7.04); and girls, a little less than six and a half pounds (6.402). The average height of the former is 19.52, and of the latter 19.01, inches. For the first twelve years the two sexes continue in about the same proportion. At the age of twelve, both are, on an average, of equal weight, but beyond tbat time males acquire a decided preponderance. Thus, young men of twenty average 133 pounds each, while the young women of twenty average 120 pounds. Men reach their heaviest bulk at about forty years, when they average about 140 pounds; but women slowly increase in weight until fifty, when their average is about 134 pounds. Men and women begin to waste after sixty, losing from thirteen to sixteen pounds in weight, and two and a half to three inches in height, where they live to an extreme old age. Taking men and women together, their weight at full growth averages about twenty times as heavy as they were on the first day of their existence; and their height is about three and a quarter times as great as at birth. Men ordinarily range from 108 to 220 E pounds, and women from 88 to 207 pounds. The actual weight of a human being, taking the average of ages, sexes, and conditions — nobles, clergy, tinkers, tailors, maidens, boys, girls, and babies, all included — is very nearly 100 pounds. These figures are given in avoirdupois weight; but the advo- cates of the superiority of woman might make a nice j^oint by introducing the rule that women be weighed by troy weight — like other jewels — and men by avoirdupois. The figures will then stand: young men of twenty, 133 pounds each; young women of twenty, 160 pounds each, and so on. The following table shows the average stature and weight of males and females of the White Race, from birth to the age of ninety : AVERAGE HEIGHT AND WEIGHT. Males. Females. Ages. Feet. lbs. Ages. Feet. lb.c. 0 1.64 7.06 0 1.61 6.42 2 2.60 25.01 2 2.56 23-.53 4 3-04 31-38 4 3.00 28.67 6 3-44 38.80 6 3-38 35-29 9 4.00 49-95 9 3-92 47.10 II 436 59-77 II 4.26 ,56-57 13 4.72 75-82 13 4.60 72-65 15 5-07 96.40 15 4-92 89.04 17 5-36 116.56 17 5.10 104-34 18 5-44 127-59 18 5-13 112-55 20 549 132.46 20 5.16 115-30 30 5-52 140.38 30 5.18 119.82 40 5-52 140.42 40 5.18 121.81 50 549 139.96 50 5-04 123.86 60 5-38 136.07 60 4-97 119.76 70 5-32 131.27 70 4-97 113.60 80 5-29 127-54 80 4-94 108.88 90 5-29 127-54 90 4-94 108.81 Mean -- 103.66 Mean ---- 93-73 The Esquimaux and Bosjesmen attain but 4 feet 3 inches, and the Kamtschadales and other Mongols but 4 feet 9 inches. The Caribs are 5 feet 1 1 inches, the people of the Navigator’s Islands 5 feet 6 inches, and the Patagonians 6 feet 7 inches. Forbes gives the following results of his experiments with English, Scotch and Irish C %- __ 66 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. students, to which are added Quetelet’s, with Belgians. The weights include ordinary clothing; and the heights, shoes. AVERAGE WEIGHT IN POUNDS AVOIRDUPOIS. AGE. ENGLISH. SCOTCH. IRISH. BELGIANS. i6 127 125.5 129 II7-S 20 144 146.5 148 i43'0 24 150 152.0 155 149.5 AVERAGE HEIGHT IN INCHES. 16 66.5 66.8 64.2 20 68.7 69.1 69.8 67.9 24 68.9 69.3 70.2 68.2 AVERAGE STRENGTH IN POUNDS. 16 336 314 236 20 385 392 416 310 24 402 421 431 337 Probably the largest and heaviest single family in the world is the Howard family, of Kentucky; and, possibly, there has never at any time existed a parallel to it. In the subjoined table, the accuracy of which may be relied upon, we give both the weight and height of its members: Father .6 feet 4 inches 200 pounds. Mother 6 “ 0 “ 285 “ Thomas 6 “ 4 “ 230 “ James -.6 “ 6 “ 215 “ Sarah 6 “ 2 “ 165 “ John 6 “ II >4 “ 266 “ Mary 6 “ 2 “ 150 “ Elijah 6 “ 3 “ 210 “ Matthew 6 “ 6 “ 220 “ Eli 6 “ 6 j 4 “ 197 “ Another daughter. 6 “ 3 “ 160 “ Total 70 feet. 2,298 pounds. Computed strength of father and sons, 6,500 pounds. Many of the grandchildren of this family are 6j4 feet in height, and weigh over 200 pounds. HUMAN STRENGTH. The average weight of man is one hun- dred and fifty pounds. The force of a single man, unaided by machinery, and working to ^ the best advantage, is equal to the lifting of j seventy pounds one foot per second for ten 1 hours a day. A man travels, without a load, an average of thirty-three miles a day. A man can carry one hundred pounds about ten miles in a day. A man of average strength will, for a short time, exert force as follows : With an auger equal to 100 lbs. “ a drawing-knife “ 100 “ “ a screw-driver “ 85 “ “ a bench vice, handle “ 75 “ “ a windlass “ 60 “ “ a hand-planer “ 50 “ “ a handsaw - “ 36 “ THE CHEMICAL MAN. Man may be viewed from almost any standpoint. We speak of the tall man, the short man, the corpulent man, the lean man; and, in an intellectual and moral sense, of the wise man, the foolish man, the good man, and the bad man. We now propose to look at the chemical man. We see him in all his solidity and strength, and some- times as dry and tough as leather. We place him upon the scales, and he weighs one hun- dred and forty pounds. Now, who would ever dream that this identical man is a “ standing body ” of water, with a few pounds of solid mixture? It is even so; seventy per cent., at least, of him is water. Analyze him, and you will find one hundred and one parts of water, and only thirty-nine of solid substance. ^ Burn him, and you will get a few ashes — that is all; the rest has been consumed or evaporated. Nearly twenty pounds of the solid in this man is carbon, and, of course, will burn. Nearly thirty pounds of the solid forty will disappear in the pro- cess of burning, and you have left only some ten pounds of bone ashes. Of the sixty-five primary elements known in nature, eighteen are said by some physiol- ogists to be found in the human body, while others claim nineteen; but the pi'esence of the following seventeen is recognized by all scientists : THE HUMAN MACH/NERT. 67 Oxygen, Hydrogen, Carbon, Nitrogen, Copper, Sulphur, Phosphorus, Calcium, Iodine, Lead, Magnesium, Sodium, Potassium, Manganese, Iron, Chlorine. Fluorine, Silicum, Bromine, Of these, seven are metallic. Iron is found in the blood; phosphorus in the brain; lime- stone in the bile; lime in the bones; dust and ashes in all. Not only these seventeen human elements, but the whole sixty-five, of which the universe is made, have their essential basis in the four substances — oxygen, hy- drogen, nitrogen, and carbon, representing the more familiar names of fire, water, salt- petre and charcoal; oxygen is the fire, food, and sup23orter of animal life, as well as of combustion, and, when combined with hy- drogen, constitutes water. And such is man, the lord of the earth — a spark of fire; a drop of water; a grain of gunpowder; an atom of charcoal ! MAN UNDER THE MICROSCOPE. However wonderful a piece of mechanism man 'may appear to the unaided vision, it is when we place him under the microscope that we are most emphatically compelled to own that he is fearfully as well as wonderfully made. Man is in himself a microcosm, or little universe — quite as wonderful as the vast creation that extends above and around him. Doctor Holmes, in his luminous style, thus speaks of the subject: “ A slight prick of the finger with a cam- bric needle supplies a point, not a drop, of blood, which we spread out on a slip of glass, cover with another much thinner piece of glass, and look at in the microscope. You see a vast number of flattened disks rolling around in clear fluid, or piled in columns like rouleaux of coin. Each of these is„about one- fiftieth of the diameter of the dot over this i, or the period at the end of this sentence, as it will be seen in fine print. These are the red and the white blood corpuscles, which are car- ried along by the pale fluid to which the red ones give its color, as the grains of sand are whirled along with a rapid torrent. The blood, then, you see, is not like red ink, but more like water with red and white currents, say one of the latter to two or three hundred of the former, floating in it — not dissolved in it. “ The solids of the body are made up chiefly of cells or particles originally rounded, often more or less altered in form, or of fibers. Here is a minute scrap of fat, half as large as the head of a pin, perhaps. You see in the microscope that it consists of a group of little vesicles or cells, looking like miniature soap bubbles. They are large, comparatively — eight of them in a row would stretch across the dot of the i which it took fifty blood-disks to span. That part of the brain with which we think is made up of cells of a different aspect. They are granular, instead of being clear like the fat-cells. Each of them has a spot upon it called its nucleus, and that has a smaller spot, called the nucleolus. “Again, turn down your lower lip and scrape it very lightly with the blade of a pocket- knife. Examine what it removes, with a microscope, on a slip of glass, as before. Here is a cell again, with its nucleus and nucleolus, but the whole flattened out, so that the spot looks like the boss of a shield. All the inter- nal surfaces of the body are lined with altered cells like these, except that some are not flat- tened, but round or elongated, and that in some internal passages, as in the air tubes of the lungs, they have little hair-like append- ages, called cilia, which keep moving all the time by some unknown power of their own. Here is a shred from an 03'^ster just opened; you see a row of cilia in a perpetual ripple, like that of a field of grain in a light breeze. “ Once more — take a little slice of cartilage from the joint we are to see on the table b\^ and by ; cells again, spotted or nucleated cells, scattered, like plums in a jjudding, through a solid substance which has no particular struc- CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. ture, as far as we can see, but looks like ground glass. “Now let us examine some fibei's. These fine wavy threads are the material employed by nature for a larger variety of purposes than any other anatomical element. They look like silk floss as you see them here. But they take many aspects. Made into bands and cords, they tie joints as ligaments, and form the attachment of muscles as ten- dons. Woven into dense membranes, they wrap the limbs in firm envelopes, sheathing each separate muscle, and binding the whole muscles of a part in a common covering. Shaped into stout bags, they furnish protec- tion for the brain, the heart, the eyes, and other organs. In looser masses, they form the packing of all the delicate machinery of life, separating the parts from each other, and yet uniting them as a whole much as the cement at once separates and unites the stones or bricks of a wall, or, more nearly, as the cotton wool packs the fragile articles it is intended to protect. “ These other fibers, coarser, curling at the ends like the tendrils of a vine, are used to form many of the elastic parts of the animal machine. They are employed as labor-saving contrivances where parts that have been dis- placed are to be restored, just as India rubber bands are used to shut doors after us. A stout bundle of them stretches along the back of an ox’s neck, and helps to lift his head after he has done grazing. All our arteries are rendered elastic by a coating of these fibers. “ On the point of this pin is a particle of red flesh from the sirloin which is to be on our table. The microscopic threads of which our instrument shows it is made up, are exactly like those which foi'm all our own muscles, the organs of all our voluntary acts of motion and of speech. See how every one of them is crossed by closely set cobweb-like lines, as if it were a ladder for invisible monads to climb upon. These striped filaments are the ser- vants of the brain. To each bundle of them runs a nervous telegraphic cord, which com- pels it to every act, good or bad, which it does ; to every word, right or wrong, which it utters. Your muscles will murder, as readily as they will embrace, a fellow crea- ture ; they will curse, as willingly as they will bless, if your brain telegraphs them to do it. Your red flesh has no more conscience or compassion than a tiger’s or hyena’s.” ‘ THE LIVING TEMPLE. N ot in the world of light alone, Where God has built his blazing throne, Nor yet alone in earth below, With belted seas that come and go, And endless isles of sunlit green. Is all thy Maker’s glory seen : Look in upon thy wondrous frame. Eternal wisdom still the same. The smooth, soft air, with pulse-like waves. Flows murmuring through its hidden caves, Whose sti'eams of brightening purple rush, Fired with a new and livelier blush. While all their burden of decay, The ebbing current steals away ; And red with Nature’s flame they start From the warm fountains of the heart. No rest that throbbing slave may ask, Forever quivering o’er his task, While far and wide a crimson jet Leaps forth to All the woven net, Which in unnumbered crossing tides The flood of burning life divides ; Then, kindling each decaying part Creeps back to find the throbbing heart ; But, warmed with that unchanging flame, - Behold the outward moving frame ; Its living marbles jointed strong With glistening band and silvery thong, And linked to reason’s guiding reins By myriad rings in trembling chains. Each graven with the threaded zone Which clkims it as the Master’s own. i See how yon beam of seeming white Is braided out of seven-hued light; Yet in those lucid globes no ray By any chance shall break astray. rilE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 69 Hark how the rolling surge of sound, Arches and spirals circling round, Wakes the hushed spirit through thine ear With music it is heaven to hear. Then mark the cloven sphere that holds All thought in its mysterious folds; That feels sensation’s faintest thrill. And flashes forth the sovereign will ; Think on the stormy world that dwells Locked in its dim and clustering cells! The lightning gleams of power it sheds Along its hollow glassy threads! O Father! grant thy love divine To make these mystic temples thine! When wasting age and wearying strife Have sapped the leaning walls of life. When darkness gathers over all. And the last tottering pillars fall. Take the poor dust thy mercy warms, And mold it into heavenly forms! — Oliver Wendell Holmes. “Our prayer should be For a sound mind in a sound body.” — Juvenal. THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. HOW WE SPEND OUR TIME. A CURIOUS calculation has been made of the proportion of time spent in different employments in a lifetime. At the age of fifty, most men and women have spent about seven- teen years in sleep, three and a half years in eating and drinking, and the same in dressing and washing, and sick or ailing, thus: HOW THE AVERAGE MAN REACHES FIFTY. OCCUPATIONS. HOURS PER DAY. TOTAL IN DAYS. Sleeping 8 6,088 571 Washing and Dressing % Eating and Drinking ^'A 1,140 Walking or Riding W 950 Amusing himself ; Talking, etc oA 1..330 Sick U iK 571 1,142 Religious; or Taking Holiday Working, as follows: Playing Baby, first five years A 666 Going to School, next nine years. 1,142 Active Pursuits (36 years, at 10 hours a day, and 310 working days a year).. €>A 24 4,662 18,262 50 years at 365 days. -18,250 “ have 12 leap-years 12 18,262 Jn other words, about one fourth of our existence only is left available for the hard work of life. Men who are occupied ten j hours at any trade or profession, and who commenced such labor at fourteen years old, will have spent (allowing for Sundays) about twelve years and nine months at it by the time they have arrived at the age in question, and a man of active habits, two to three years in walking, riding or driving. Finally, nearly all of us who have lived for half a century have spent something like three or four years in talking — that being the employment which fills up the interstices of time left vacant by every other occupation. WANTS THAT KILL. A man will die for want of air in five minutes ; for want of sleep, in ten days ; for want of water, in a week ; for want of food, at varying intervals, dependent on constitu- tion, habits of life, and the circumstances of the occasion. The following are well-authen- ticated cases of remarkable tenacity of life under severe privation : In the summer of 1874, the crew of a Bos- ton whaler was wrecked. For eight days they could not get a drop of water nor a particle of food. On the day of the wreck the captain weighed one hundred and ninety pounds; when rescued, he weighed one hun- dred pounds. A teaspoonful of brandy was J 70 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. given to each patient ; but, before they could be taken aboard the vessel which saved them, they became unconscious, and remained so for two days; all, however, eventually recov- ered. gDr. Sloan has given an account of a healthy man, aged sixty-five, who was found alive after having been shut up in a coal mine for twenty-three days, during the first ten of which he was able to procure a small quantity of foul water. He was in a state of extreme exhaustion, and notwithstanding that he was carefully nursed, he died three days after his rescue. Dr. Willan records the case of a young gentleman who, under the influence of relig- ious delusion, starved himself to death. He survived for sixty days, during which time he took nothing but a little orange juice. In this case life was probably abnormally pro- longed in consequence of the peculiar emo- tional excitement of the patient. Judging from the cases of abstinence owing to dis- eases of the throat and impossibility of swal- lowing, Dr. Taylor infers, “that in a healthy person under perfect abstinence, death would not commonly take place in a shorter period than a week or ten days.” Many persons have been killed by eating too much after having fasted for a long time. The safest plan of procedure is, to feel the way along, as persons who are traveling in the dark and near a precipice ahead. There can be no one rule given, because there are so many modifying circumstances. Give a teaspoonful of hot drink at a time, and, if no ill result, repeat in five minutes; and the same amount of soft food, boiled rice, or softened bread, or gruel ; for the stomach is itself as weak as the sufferer, in proportion, and can only manage a very small amount of food. Wading in water, or keeping the clothing saturated with water, even if it is sea-water, very sensibly abates the horrors of thirst. UNDER THE SNOW. The following event, which occurred dur- ing the remarkably hard winter of 1708-9, is recorded on the most unquestionable au- thority. A poor woman in Somersetshire, England, having been to a neighboring vil- lage to sell her yarn, on her return home fell so very ill that she was forced to take refuge in a small house by the wayside, and it being towards evening, she requested to be permit- ted to sit beside the fire during the night. This favor was denied. She left the house, and, Jeeling very ill, laid herself down under a hedge. It snowed very hard, and in a little time she was almost covered by it. At last one of her neighbors came by who asked her how she could be so mad as to lie there to be starved. She said her sickness was so violent she could not possibly go further. He then took her up, and hade her try as well as she could, adding, it was not so very far for her to go. She followed him a little way, but, unable to persevere, she fell behind, and laid herself down under the hedge again. She was soon covered with the snow, which was falling very thick. Thus she continued for nearly a week, her neighbors, meanwhile, making great inquiries after her; but no one could give any account except that one man, and he kept silent for fear of a suspicion fall- ing upon him of having made away with her. During this surprise a poor woman dreamed (or rather pretended to have dreamed, the man having, probably, suggested to her this expedient to save his conscience and his neck,) that she lay under a hedge in such a place. Her neighbors immediately went to the place with sticks, which they forced through the snow. At last one of them thought he heard a groan; upon which he thrust his stick down with more force, which made the woman cry out, “Oh! for God’s sake don’t kill me.” She was taken out, to the astonishment of them all ; and was found TUB LIFE THAT NOW IS. to have taken a great part of her upper gar- ment for sustenance. She told them she had lain very warm, and had slept most part of the time. One of her legs lay just under a bush, so that it was not quite covered with snow, by which it became almost mortified, but (says the contemporary narrator) it is like to do very well. She was very cheerful, and soon walked. She lay under the hedge at least seven days. In February, 1799, a similar imprisonment in the snow, but attended, ultimately, with more fatal consequences, was the lot of Eliz- abeth Woodcock, aged forty-two, between Impington and Cambridge. She was riding from market, when her horse, frightened by a meteor, started; and, running backward, ap- proached the brink of a ditch. She dis- mounted, and the horse ran from her. She overtook him and continued leading him, till worn down with fatigue, and under the load of a heavy basket full of her marketings, she addressed the horse: “Tinker, I am too tired to go any further, you must go home without me.” She sat herself down and was soon cov- ered with snow'. Here, in a sort of cavern, she was buried alive for eight days. On the morning after her first enclosure she contrived to break off a stick from the hedge, and tying her handkerchief to it, she thrust it through an opening in the snow. She was certainly sensible all the time, and overheard the con- versation of some gypsies, but although she cried as loud as she could they did not (as they declared) hear her. On the second Sun- day, Joseph Muncy, a farmer, on his way home from Cambridge, was drawn to the place by the appearance of the handkerchief, and, discovering who it was, went for help. A shepherd who came said, “Are you there, Elizabeth Woodcock?” She replied, in a feeble, faint voice, “Dear John Stittle, I know your voice; for God’s sake, help me out!” Stittle made his way through the snow; she 71 eagerly grasped his hand, and said, “ I have been here a long time.” “Yes,” answered he, “since Saturday.” “Ay, Saturday week,” she replied; “I have heard the bells go two Sundays for church.” She was then taken home, and a most fatal treatment was she subjected to. They gave her strong liquors, and applied poultices of stale beer and oatmeal boiled together. The direct contrary to which, under Providence, would have restored Iter. She lost her toes; and lingered on till the following July, when she died. The following remarks deserve the serious attention of every one; they are founded on sound physiological principles; The application of heat to the body after intense cold, is attended with the most dread- ful consequences ; it always produces extreme pain, and, most frequently, either partial or general mortification of the parts to which the heat is applied. Instead, therefore^ of allowing persons who have thus suffered from frost or snow to come near a fire, let the limbs be rubbed well with snow, or, if snow cannot be procured, let them be put into cold water, and afterwards rubbed with flannel for a considerable time. Let the per- son be kept most cautiously from taking too much or too nutritious food. Spirits, also, or wine, should, under no pretense whatever, be given, without being weakened very much with water. Great attention must be paid to the state of the bowels. The use of opium and camphor is much to be recommended, though at first the opium should be given in very small portions. WHAT WE EAT IN A LIFETIME. When we pour milk into a cup of tea or coffee, the albumen of the milk and the tan- nin of the tea instantly unite and form leather, or minute flakes of the very same compound which is produced in the texture of the tanned hide, and which makes it CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 72 leather, as distinguished from the original skin. In the course of a year, a tea-drinker of average habits will have imbibed leather enough to make a pair of shoes, if it could be put in proper shape for the purpose. We carry iron enough in our blood constantly to make a horseshoe; and it is said our blood is renewed every new moon. We have clay enough in our frames to make, if properly separated and baked, a dozen good-sized bricks. The man who carelessly tips a glass of lager into his stomach, little reflects that he has begun the manufacture of hats; yet such is the case. The malt of the beer assimi- lates with the chyle, and forms a sort of felt — the very same so often seen in hat facto- ries; but, not being instantly utilized, it is lost. Still further: it is estimated that the bones in every adult person require to be fed with lime enough to make a marble mantel every eight months. To sum up, we have the following astound- ing aggregate of articles charged to account of physiology, to keep every poor shack on his feet for thi'ee-score years and ten : Men’s shoes, at i pair a year 70 Horseshoes, at i a month 840 Bricks, at 12 per 7 years 120 Hats, not less than 14 a year 980 Mantels, at a year 105 Here we are surprised to observe that we eat as many shoes as we wear, and a sufficient number of hats to supply a large family of boys ; that we float in our blood-vessels horse- shoes enough to keep a span of grays shod all the while; that we carry in our frame clay bricks enough to build a modern fire-place; and in our bones, marble enough to supply our neighbors with mantels. HOW MUCH TO EAT. The requirements of the body vary with age, sex, occupation, health, work done, cli- mate, and race. Therefore, any attempt to decide just how much a person should eat or drink would be fruitless. In the first place, it may be stated generally, that a healthy person requii'es from seven hundred to eight hundred pounds of perfectly dry food a year, which amounts to about two pounds a day. In addition to this, about six pounds of liquid are required. Dr. Dalton is author of the following statement: “ F rom experiments performed while living on an exclusive diet of bread, meat, fish and butter, with coffee and water for drink, we have found the entire quantity of food re- quired during twenty-four hours, by a man in full health and taking free exercise in the open air, as follows: ONE day’s necessary FOOD. Meat 16 ounces. Bread 19 “ Butter 3^ “ Water 52 fluid ounces. “That is to say, rather less than two and a half pounds of solid food, and over three pints of water.” Science teaches that the best proportions of food for the body generally are : Fat- forming materials 9 Flesh-forming ^materials — 22 Starch and sugar-forming materials. 69 100 Here is another classification, based upon the analysis of the human body itself: Phosphates, or brain and bone builders 2 Nitrogenous, or muscle builders 16 Carbonaceous, or heat and fat producers 70 Waste.- 12 100 When we eat of food which is deficient in any necessary ingredient, we generally com- bine it with another that contains an excess of the missing property. Thus,, we combine bread with butter, lean meat with potatoes, salad with eggs. The following table shows the relative properties of food in one hundred parts: THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 73 ANALYSIS OF FOODS. DIGESTION OF FOODS. Artici-es. Apples Asparagus Bacon Bariev Beans Beef, lean Beef fat Buckwheat Butter Cabbage Cheese Cherries Clams Codfish Corn Cream Cucumbers Currants Eels Eggs, white of. . Eggs, yolk of- . . Fat Figs Haddock Halibut Herring Lamb Lard Lobster Milk, human Milk, cow’s Mutton, lean ... Mutton, fat Oats Onions Oysters Parsnips Pears Peas Pigeon Pork Potatoes Potatoes, s^veet Poultry Prunes Rice Rye Salmon Smelts Starch Sugar Trout Turbot Turnips Veal Venison Wheat c White Fish 1 Water and Waste. Heat A: Fat Producing. Muscle- making’. 1 I Brain - feeding. AUTICLKS. now rooKKi). h’rs. Rice Boiled - I 00 I 00 Piss’ feet, soused Boiled S4.0 lO.O .■i-S 0-5 i 1^/0^ A. » * . ^ — Eggs, whipped Raw 1 30 94.0 5-0 0-5 0-5 Salmon Trout Boiled I 20 29.0 62.0 8-5 0-5 Soup, barley Boiled I 30 32.0 52.0 12.0 4.0 Apples, sweet, mellow Raw I 30 32.0 40.0 24.0 4.0 Venison steak Broiled 1 20 65.0 14.0 19.0 2,0 Brains, animal Boiled ‘ 45 55-4 29.8 1 3-3 >•5 Sago Boiled I 4 .^ 60.0 8.0 1-5 Tapioca Boiled 2 00 0.0 100.0 0.0 0.0 Barley Boiled 2 00 9^-5 6.0 I.O 0-5 Milk I Boiled 2 t)0 37-0 28.0 30.0 5-0 Liver, beef fresh Broiled 2 00 77.0 2I-S I.O 0-5 Eggs, fresh Raw - 2 00 84.0 2.0 12.0 2.0 Codfish, cured, dry Boiled 2 00 79.0 I.O 16.0 4.0 Apples, sour, mellow Raw 2 00 19.0 68.0 13.0 I.O Cabbage, with vinegar Raw 2 00 92.0 4-5 3-5 0.0 Milk Raw 2 15 97-5 2.0 0.0 0-5 Eggs, fresh Roasted 2 I C 91.7 7.0 I.O 0-3 Turkev, wild Roasted 2 18 75-0 4.0 17.0 4.0 Turkev, domestic Boiled 2 2^ 84.0 0.0 13.0 30 Gelatine .. Boiled ?. 20 Si.o 30.0 17.0 2.0 Turkey, domestic Roasted . 2 20 0.0 100.0 0.0 0.0 Goose, wild Roasted 2 20 34-0 58.0 6.0 2.0 Pig, sucking Roasted . 2 20 80.0 I.O ii5.o 4.0 Lamb, fresh Broiled 2 20 78.0 I.O 18.0 3-0 Hash, meat and vegetables Warmed 2 30 73-0 4.0 18.0, 5-0 Beans Boiled 2 20 63.0 14.0 21.0 2.0 Cake, sponge Baked 2 30 0.0 100.0 0.0 0.0 Parsnips Boiled 2 30 81.0 0.0 14.0 5-0 Potatoes, Irish Roasted 7 . 20 89-5 7.0 30 0-5 Potatoes, Irish . Baked 2 20 86.0 8.0 5-0 I.O Cabbage, head Raw 2 30 63.0 14.0 21.0 2.0 Spinal marrow, animal Boiled 2 4.0 56-5 31.0 I I.O • i-S Chicken, full grown Frieasseed 2 45 29.0 51.0 17.0 3-0 Custard Baked . 2 4 C 94.0 5-0 0-5 0-5 Beef, with salt only Boiled 2 A C 87.0 0-5 12.0 0-5 Apples, sour, hard Raw - 2 ;0 91.0 7.0 I -5 O.i, Oysters, fresh Raw 2 84.0 II-S 4.0 0-5 Eggs, fresh Soft Boiled j j 3 00 30.0 41.0 26.0 30 Bass, striped, fresh .. Broiled 3 00 72.0 2.0 23.0 3-0 Beef, fresh, lean, rare Roasted 2 00 42.0 48.0 8.S 1.4 Beefsteak . Broiled.. 2 00 75-9 22.0 I.O 1. 1 Pork, recently salted Raw 3 00 73-0 22.0 2.0 30 Pork, recently salted Stewed 3 00 74.0 2.0 21.0 3.0 Mutton, fresh Broiled 3 00 74.0 20.0 4.0 2.0 Mutton, fresh Boiled 2 00 16.0 78.0 5-5 o-S Boiled 3 00 12.0 73-0 12.0 2.0 Boiled - - 3 00 72.0 I.O 20.0 7.0 Dumpling, apple Boiled 3 00 76.0 I.O 17.0 6.0 Baked _. 3 00 0.0 100.0 0.0 0.0 Beefsteak Broiled 3 00 0.0 100.0 0.0 0.0 Mutton, fresh Broiled 2 00 78.0 I.O 17.0 4.0 Oysters, fresh Roasted . . 2 1 84.0 I.O 13.0 2.0 Pork, recently salted Broiled 3 15 91.4 7.2 I.O 0.4 Porksteak Broiled 2 I K 68.1; I. 14.6 1.4 Mutton, fresh _ _ Roasted 21^ . 69.0 8.0 20.0 3-0 Bread, corn Baked.. vJ 0 3 15 16.0 67.0 iS-o 2.0 Carrot .. Bojled 3 71.0 1 0.0 16.0 30 Sausage, fresh Broiled 3 20 74 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. DIGESTION OF FOODS — Continued. ARTICLES. HOW COOKED. Flounder, fresh Catfish, fresh Oysters, fresh Beef, fresh, lean, dry Beef, with mustard, etc. Butter Cheese Soup, Mutton Oyster soup Bread, wheat, fresh Turnips, flat Potatoes, Irish Eggs, fresh Eggs, fresh Green corn and beans Beets Salmon, salted Beef V eal, fresh Fowls, domestic Fowls, domestic Ducks, domestic Soup, beef, vegetables, and bread Heart, animal Beef, old, hard, salted Pork, recently salted Soup, marrow bones Cartilage ' Pork, recently salted Veal, fresh Ducks, wild i Suet, mutton Cabbage Pork Tendon Suet, beef, Ifesh Beefsteak Beef... Fried Fried Stewed Roasted Boiled Melted Raw Boiled Boiled Baked Boiled Boiled Hard boiled Fried Boiled Boiled Boiled Fried Broiled Boiled Roasted Roasted Boiled Fried Boiled Fried : Boiled Boiled Boiled Fried Roasted . Boiled Boiled Roasted Boiled Boiled Raw Boiled h’rs. 3 3 ° 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 30 3 45 3 45 4 00 4 00 4 00 4 00 4 00 4 00 4 00 4 00 4 IS 4 IS 4 15 4 15 4 30 4 30 4 30 4 30 4 00 5 IS 5 30 S 30 5 35 5 40 The periods required for the digestion of various foods are not merely scientific deduc- tions; many of them have been ascertained by actual observation under the following peculiar circumstances : Dr. AVilliam Beaumont, a surgeon in the United States army, stationed, in 1822, at Mackinac, Michigan, was called upon to give surgical and medical attendance to one Alexis St. Martin, a young man of eighteen, who had been accidentally shot, at short range — about three feet — by a musket. In a year St. Martin was restored to health, but with an aperture in his stomach through which Dr. Beaumont was enabled to mark the pro- cess of digestion. The Doctor also obtained the gastric juice, and analyzed its properties and powers. He further noted the influence of human passions on the digestion, and found that this was delayed twenty-four to forty-eight hours by anger, fear, fever, glut- tony or drunkenness. The following table gives the results of these observations con- tinued from 1825 to 1833. BEAUMONT’S TABLE. Rice, boiled soft, was perfectly converted into h’rs. chyme in. i 00 Sago'. I 45 Tapioca and barley, etc 2. 00 Fresh bread 3 00 Stale bread 2 00 Strong cake 2 30 Cabbage, raw 2 30 Cabbage, boiled (vinegar aided its digestion) — 4 00 Potatoes, roasted 2 30 Potatoes, boiled 3 30 Carrots, boiled 3 15 Beets, boiled 3 45 Turnips, boiled 3 30 Parsnips, boiled 2 31 Apples, sour and hard 2 50 Apples, sweet and ripe i 30 Oysters, undressed 2 03 Oysters, stewed.:? 3 30 Turkey and goose 2 30 Fowls, domestic 4 00 Fowls, wild 4 30 Tripe or pigs’ feet i 00 Venison . i 35 Beef and mutton, roasted or boiled 3 00 Beef, salted 3 I 5 Pork, broiled 3 30 Pork, salted and boiled 4 30 Pork, roast S IS Eggs, raw 2 00 Eggs, soft boiled 3 00 Eggs, hard boiled or fried — 3 30 Custard, baked • 2 45 Milk.. 2 00 Butter and Cheese — 3 30 Suet 4 30 Oil - 4 40 Apple dumplings — 3 00 Calf’s-foot jelly o 30 THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 75 SLEEP. “ He giveth liis bulovcd sleep.” — Bible. **Tired nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.” — Young. Sleep is defined by Webster, “A natural and healthy, but temporary and periodical, suspension of the functions of the organs of sense, as well as of those of the voluntary and rational soul; that state of the animal in which the senses are more or less unaf- fected by external objects, and the fancy or fantasy only is active.” And by Dr, Car- penter, as: “That state of suspension of the sensory and motor functions which appears to alternate in all animals with the active condition of those functions, and which may be made to give place to it by the agency of appropriate impressions upon the sensory nerves.” All physicians assert — and the ex- perience of everyone confirms the assertion — that there is nothing so capable of mitigating the evil effects of a high-pressure life as sound sleep. If a man have the faculty of sleeping soundly and long, it is astonishing with what impunity he may overtax his mental and physical powers, and with what impunity, too, he resists the attacks of that anxiety which is to thousands of people the most insidious and dangerous of diseases. We have long ago given up the habit of talking of the mind, the soul and the heart as if they were so many “little men inde- pendently inhabiting the body.” Even in our common talk we recognize the fact that the various emotions and affections, the vari- ous thoughts, aspirations, imaginings of every life are part and parcel of the physical sys- tem. Black Care does not ride behind the horseman; it confronts him before he leaves his chamber; it interferes with his breakfast; it disturbs his apprehensions of the most ordi- nary objects; it pales his cheek, silvers his hair, and in time drags his body down to the grave. There are more people killed by mental worry, by anxiety, by disappoint- ment, than by all the fevers which the doc- tors have defined and named. Doubtless this form of ailment becomes more prevalent the further we urge on our social life at high pressure, for there are keener ambitions, stronger desires, greater apprehensions of failure, and more abundant chances of disap- pointment. Now, for all this mental tear and wear there is no such anodyne as sleep. Sound sleep is the quinine of mental fever and unrest, and many must regret that it cannot be purchased like quinine. Others, again, have the faculty of sleeping well with- out putting a proper value on it. They are as fortunate as those who, even in their waking hours, have the gift of definitely putting aside for the moment responsibilities which would haunt the minds of others from morning till night. If we mistake not. Lord Palmerston used to attribute his good health and cheerful temperament to his habit of convincing himself that, a thing once done to the best of his ability, he was absolved from further anxiety about it. But who would not cultivate the habit if they had the temperament necessary for its formation to start with. It is hard to say which is cause and which is effect in such a case ; probably cause and effect act and react on each other. A man cannot throw off anxiety at will; he may reason about it, and convince himself that being anxious can do no good, but the anxiety remains for all that. He may say to himself — “ my health is of more consequence to my family and myself than the future of this company which has got into trouble. Perish my $5,000, and let me regain my serenity. I will read the reflections of Marcus Aurelius this evening. What a fool I am to be thus disturbed about a matter which all my anxiety cannot help!” These are sensible resolves; but it is not always possible to carry them out. In that respect the mind is indeed a “ a little man independ- ently inhabiting the body;” for its actions 76 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. are frequently, to all appearance, automatic. The man says to himself — “I will not think of this unfortunate business;” and so he sits down to read Marcus Aurelius, hoping to imitate his lofty self-composure. But he still keeps thinking of the business which troubles him, and the chances are that the divided attention begets a sort of mental inability, which induces a sleepless night, and a hag- gard face in the morning. Tall and bulky people require more sleep than short and thin people ; men, more than women; and all animals sleep longer in win- ter than in summer. Age, constitution, cli- mate, occupation, and a variety of incidental causes must be taken into consideration. In extreme old age, much sleep is required. Youth and young adults sleep habitually very soundly. The faculty of I’emaining asleep longer than is necessary cannot be indulged in without impairing the strength both of the body and mind. In a state of health the amount of sleep required to restore the nervous energy averages, it is believed, from six to eight hours. It is better to go to sleep on the right side, for then the stomach is very much in the position of a bottle turned upside down, and the contents are aided in passing out by gravi- tation. If one goes to sleep on the left side, the operation of emptying the stomach of its contents is more like drawing water from a well. If you sleep on your back, especially soon after a hearty meal, the weight of the digestive organs, and that of the food, resting on the great vein of the body, near the backbone, compresses it, and arrests the flow of blood more or less. If the arrest is partial, the sleep is disturbed, and there are unpleasant dreams. If the meal has been recent or hearty, the arrest is more decided, and various sensations, such as those of fall- ing over a precipice, or the pursuit by a wild beast, or other impending danger, are experienced, until the desperate effort to get rid of them arouses us, and we wake in a fright, or trembling, or pei'spiring, or feeling exhausted, according to the degree of stagna- tion and the length and strength of the effort made to escape the danger. But when we are not able to escape the danger, when we do fall over the precipice, when the tumbling building crushes us, what then? That is death ! That is the death of those of whom it is said, when found lifeless in their beds in the morning, “ They were as well as they ever were, the day before ; and,” it is often added, '•'■ate heartier than usual!'''' This last, as a frequent cause of death to those who have gone to bed well to wake no more, we give merely as a private opinion. The possibility of its truth is enough to deter any rational man from a late and hearty meal. This we do know with certainty, that waking up in the night with painful diarrhoea, or cholei'a, or bilious colic, ending in death in a very short time, is properly traceable to a late large meal. The truly wise will take the safer side. For persons who eat three times a day, it is amply sufficient to make the last meal of cold bread and butter with 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 promis- ing of a day of comfort. Dr. Edward Smith wisely discourses upon sleep as follows: “ Sleep is necessary to life and health, and the fol- lowing are its chief effects. The body is at rest by lying down, and unconsciousness ; pulsation and res- piration are at their lowest point, and allow more rest to the heart and lungs; the circulation is the most easy, for the column of blood is horizontal, and all the actions of the body are at their lowest point. The eyes and ears are at rest by darkness, silence and un- consciousness. The mind is oblivious, and troubles are forgotten. On awaking, the mind is fresher, the senses are acuter, the spirits more cheerful, and all the ppwers of the body revivified and fitted for work. “ Sleep is more or less sound according to circum- stances. Fatigue, if not too great, aids it, whilst THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 77 idleness lessens it. Food, if taken too late, so as not to be digested, and if either too much or too little, lessens it. Some kinds of food, as tea and coffee, may prevent it. Anxious thought and pain, or even great pleasure, lessen it. In proportion as it is sound the body and mind are refreshed. “ 1 lence the conditions most conducive to sleep are previous moderate exertion; light suppers taken at least two hours before going to sleep; no tea or coffee taken at night; calmness of mind and subsidence ot , thought; a comfortable bed; neither too much nor 1 too little bed-clothing; silence, darkness, moderate j warmth and freshness of the air in the bedroom. “ Those who work in the night and sleep during the dav say that they sleep well ; but they have less than than those who sleep in the night, and it is much better to sleep in the night than by day. j “ Sleep is clearly more easily obtained at night during the darkness, and is more difficult when the nights are very short, as at midsummer, than when long, as in midwinter. With the morning light ap- pearing early, the eyes have not so much rest, and as there is then less silence in the streets than in the j darkness of the night, unconsciousness is less pro- ! found and sleep is lighter. Hence there is more and i better sleep in winter than in summer. “It is proper to retire to rest early at night, when the day’s work is done, and the body and mind are fatigued, and the soundest and best sleep is then ob- tained. It is said that ‘one hour’s sleep before mid- night is better than two afterwards.’ But when I should we awake and get up.^ Clearly when we are ' conscious of dreaming, for consciousness has then in ^ great part returned. To awake feeling refreshed, and yet strive to sleep again is to waste time and weaken , the body ; for every one knows that the second sleep is not so refreshing as the first. Yet many do this, either from sloth or to wait until a fixed hour for rising. “ It is difficult to name a given number of hours for sleep at all seasons, but eight hours for an adult, man or woman, and somewhat more for children and old people, is believed to be right. Children naturally sleep long because their bodies need rest for growth, and they go to bed very early ; whilst old people are more wakeful, and require to lie down longer than they can sleep. “People generally sleep too much, having regard to their health and the proper use of time, and with the mind at rest a less quantity would be equally good. They should not, how'ever, go to bed late and rise early, but if they must rise early they should go to bed early. Those who go to bed at nine may get up at four or five o’clock, and those who stay up until ten or eleven may rest until five, six, or seven o’clock, according to their age, health and duties. “The proper rule is to go to bed early and rise early, and to make the best use of morning hours for devotion and study. “There can be no doubt that to lie down an undue length of time, and to use too much clothing, is to relax the body and to make it less fit for exertion, so that, independently of waste of time, less tone and health of body result. The heart becomes feeble and the skin unusually sensitive, whilst at the same time the lowest state of vital action is unduly prolonged, so that disease, having the character of debility and a tendency to take colds must follow. On the other hand, to rise when we have been sufficiently refreshed is to add to the usefulness of the body as an instru- ment of labor, and to prolong life. Two hours a day saved from prolonged sleep adds thirty days to every year of life, and every twelve years we shall have practically lived one year longer. We forget this as life passes, but how will it appear when life is ending! The greatest men of all ages have been early risers, so as to find time for their work, and if the young would strive to emulate them they must not waste time, whether in bed or otherwise. Oh I for a single dav ! is the thought of many at the last ; and even those who have spent their time the most usefully feel that there is still much more that they might have done.” VENTILATION OF .SLEEPING ROOMS. If two persons are to occupy a bedroom during a night, let them step upon weighing scales as they retire, and then again in the morning, and they will find that their actual weight is at least a pound less in the morning. Frequently there will be a loss of two or more pounds, and the average loss through- out the year will be more than a jDOund. That is, during the night there is a loss of a pound of matter which has gone off from their bodies, partly from the lungs and partly through the pores of the skin. The escaped material is carbonic acid gas and decayed ani- mal matter, or poisonous exhalations. This is diffused through the air in part, and in part absorbed by the bedclothes. If a single ounce of wood or cotton be burned in a room, it will so comjDletely saturate the air with smoke that CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 78 one can hardly breathe, though there can be only one ounce of foreign matter in the air. If an ounce of cotton be burned every half hour during the night, the air will be kept continually saturated with smoke unless there be an open door or window for its escape. Now the sixteen ounces of smoke thus formed is far less poisonous than the sixteen ounces of exhalations from the lungs and bodies of the two persons who have lost a pound in weight during the eight hours of sleeping, for while the dry smoke is mainly taken into the lungs, the damp odors from the body are absorbed both into the lungs and into the pores of the whole body. Nothing more need be said to show the importance of' having bedrooms well venti- lated, and of thoroughly airing the sheets, coverlids and mattresses, in the morning, before packing them up in the form of a neatly-made bed. Children especially sutfer from bad air. The disturbed sleep, restless tossing and mut- terings, give evidence of the effect of bad air, further confirmed by the dull eye, stupid expression, languid movements and unre- freshed feeling which remain in the morning. Let the house be well ventilated, cover the body sufficiently with loose, warm, appro- priate clothing, and the sleep will be sound and refreshing, the eyes will brighten, and life will receive a new impulse. HOW TO PUT NERVOUS BABIES TO SLEEP. A baby is a very tender thing, people say, but most of them are very far from knowing how tender. Imagine how nervous you are in certain states — when recovering from ill- ness, say, when the fall of a book or the slam of a door makes you quiver and feel faint, as if some one gave you a blow. That is the way a young baby feels at best. A puff of wind will set it gasping, its little breath blown quite away. A noise makes it shiver, a change of summer air makes it turn deathly cold. A baby is the most nervous of beings, and the torture it suffers in going to sleep and being awakened by careless sounds, when just “ dropping off,” is only compara- ble to the same experience of an older person during an acute nervous headache. Young babies ought to pass the first month of their lives in the country, for its stillness no less than its fresh air. But where this silence is not to be commanded, baby may be soothed by folding a soft napkin, wet in warmish water, lightly over the top of its head, its eyes, and its ears, the end twisted a little till it makes a sort of skull cap. It is the best way to put nervous babies to sleep; and, though baby sometimes fights against being blindfolded in this way, five minutes will usually send him off into blissful slumber. The compress soothes the little, feverish brain, deadens sound in his ears, and shuts out everything that takes his attention, so that sleep takes him unaware. Teething babies find this very comfortable, for their heads are always hot, and thei'e is a fevered beating in the arteries each side. THE BRAIN IN SLEEP. The following points in relation to the condition of the brain in sleep have been de- termined by the observations made by Dr. Durham on a dog, from whose skull he had cut out a piece of bone for the purpose. 1. Pressure of distended veins upon the brain is not, as is generally believed, the cause of sleep, for during sleep the veins are not distended. 2. During sleep the brain is in a compara- tively bloodless condition, and the blood in the encephalic vessels is not only diminished in quantity, but moves with diminished ra- pidity. 3. The condition of the cerebral circula- tion during sleep is, from physical causes, that which is most favorable to the nutrition of the brain- tissue. rilE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 79 A CASE OF ABNORMAL SLEEP. Dr. IJlanchet relates the case of a lady, who, at eighteen, had slept forty consecutive days; at twenty, fifty days, and at twenty- four, from Easter, 1S62, to March, 1863. A tooth was removed, to feed her with milk and soup, her only food. She was motion- less and insensible. The pulse was low, the breathing scarcely perceptible, there were no evacuations, and she showed ho signs of leanness, her complexion remaining florid I and healthy. This, however, was not sleep properly so called, but a condition of hysteric coma. SLEEP DESCRIBED. “Sleep, that knits up the raveled sleeve of care, the death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature’s, second course, chief nourisher in life’s feast.” — Shakespeare. “ Sleep, gentle sleep, nature’s soft nurse.” — Idem. “O sleep, thou ape of death.” — Idem. “ Downy sleep, death’s counterfeit.” — Idem. “To sleep — there is a drowsy mellifluence in the very word that would almost serve to interpret its meaning — to shut up the senses and hoodwink the soul ; to dismiss the world ; to escape from one’s self; to be in ignorance of our own existence; to stagnate upon the earth, just breathing out the hours, not living them, — ‘doing no mischief, only dreaming of it’; neither merry nor melancholy, something between both, and better than either. Best friend of frail humanity, and, like all other friends, it is best estimated in its loss.” — Longfellow. “ Blessings light on him that first invented sleep ! it covers a man all over, thoughts and all, like a cloak ; it is meat for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, heat for the cold, and cold for the hot; in short, money that buys everything, balance and weights I that make the shepherd equal to the monarch, and ! the fool to the wise ; there is only one evil in sleep, as I have heard, and it is that it resembles death, since between a dead and sleeping man there is but little difference.” — Cervantes. THE SLEEP OF THE YOUNG. “ Even sleep is characteristic. How charming are children in their lovely innocence! how angel-like their blooming hues!” — Wilhelm von Humboldt. “ Sleep on, baby, on the floor. Tired of all the playing! Sleep with smile the sweeter for That, you dropp’d away in! On your curls’ full roundness stand Golden lights serenely : One cheek pushed out by the hand. Folds the dimple inly.” — Mrs. Browning. VALUE OF SLEEP IN YOUTH. Late hours, irregular habits, and want of attention to diet, are common errors with most young men, and these gradually, but at first im2^erceptibly, undermine the health, and lay the foundation for various forms of disease in after life. It is a very difficult thing to make young persons comj^rehend this. They frequently sit ujd as late as twelve, one, or two o’clock, without experiencing any ill eflfects; they go without a meal to-day, and to-morrow eat to rej^letion, with only tempo- rary inconvenience. One night they will sleep three or four hours, and the next, nine or ten ; or one night, in their eagerness to get away into some agreeable com^Dany, they will take no food at all, and the next, perhaps, will eat a hearty supper, and go to bed upon it. These, with various other irregularities, are common to the majority of young men, and are, as just stated, the cause of much bad healtb in mature life. Indeed, nearly all the shattered constitutions with which too many are cursed are the result of a disregard of the plainest precepts of health in early life. “ Let youth cherish sleep, the happiest of earthly boons, while yet it is at its command; for there cometh a day to all when ‘ neither the voice of the lute nor the birds ’ shall bring back the sweet slum- bers that fell on their young eyes as unbidden as the dews.”— Bulwer Lytton. EARLY rising. The difference between rising every morn- ing at six and at eight, in the course of forty years, amounts to 29,200 hours, or three years one hundred and twenty-one days and sixteen hours, which are equal to eight hours a day for exactly ten years. So that rising at six 8o CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. will be the same as if ten years of life (a weighty consideration) were added, wherein we may command eight hours every day for the cultivation of our minds and the despatch of business. “ Leave your bed upon the first desertion of sleep ; it being ill for the eyes to read lying, and worse for the mind to be idle; since the head during that lazi- ness is commonly a cage for unclean thoughts.” — Francis Osborne. HOW TO INDUCE SLEEP. “ The best of rest is sleep.” — Shakespeare. ” One hour’s sleep before midnig-ht is worth two after.”— Fielping. How to get sleep is to many persons a matter of high importance. Nervous persons who are troubled with wakefulness and ex- citability, usually have a strong tendency of blood to the brain, with cold extremities. The pressure of the blood on the brain keeps it in a stimulated or wakeful state, and the pulsations in the head are often painful. Let such rise and chafe the body and extremities with a brush or towel, or rub smartly with the hands, to promote circulation, and with- draw the excessive amount of blood from the brain, and they will fall asleep in a few mo- ments. A cold bath, or a sponge bath and rubbing, or a good run, or a rapid walk in the open air, or going up and down stairs a few times just before retiring, will aid in equalizing circulation and promoting sleep. Purify the air by jaroper ventilation; reduce the temperature of the atmosphere, if too high; or, if too low, add more bedclothes; darken the room, and exclude all disturbing sounds; withdraw the mind as much as pos- sible from all engrossing thoughts, harassing anxieties and depressing cares. These rules are simple, and easy of application in castle or cabin, and may minister to the comfort of thousands who would freely expend money for an anodyne to promote “ Nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep ! ” The following, by Fi'ank Buckland, will read to many like a “new departure.” “ I have no hesitation in saying that the proper thing to do is to go to sleep immediately (or at least very soon) after the meal of the day. All animals always go to sleep, if they are not disturbed, after eating. This is especially noticeable in dogs; and the great John Hunter showed by an experiment that digestion went on during sleep more than when the animal was awake and going about. This is his experiment : He took two dogs and gave them both the same quantity of food. One of them was then allowed to go to sleep, the other was taken out hunt- ing. At the end of three or four hours he killed both these dogs. The food in the stomach of the dog which had been asleep was quite digested; in that of the one which had been hunting, the food was not digested at all. “This fact, I think, shows the advisability of going to sleep immediately after eating. This ignored fact always occurs to my memory when I see old gentle- men nodding over their wine. Nature says to them, ‘ Go to bed ! ’ They will not go to bed ; but still Nature will not allow her law to be broken, so she sends them to sleep sitting in their chairs. People, therefore, who feel sleepy after dinner ought to dine late and go straight to bed when a sleepy feeling comes over them. ✓ “ Most good folks, however, do the worst possible thing imaginable; they retire all together into the drawing-room, and then, to make matters worse, they drink tea and coffee. Now’ I regard tea and coffee, when taken at night, to be poison to certain constitutions. It is very well in the morning, but it is very bad at night. The reason why tea and coffee should not be taken at night is that the one contains an alkaloid called theine, and the other contains an alkaloid called caffeine. These two alkaloids taken into the system stimulate the brain and do not allow it to go to rest. I speak of this matter from experi- ence. If I take, thoughtlessly, a cup of tea or coffee after five o’clock in the evening, going to bed about eleven, I cannot go to sleep; and if the brain does fall asleep the alkaloid will wake it up in about an hour or two. Sleeplessness, therefore, is usually caused by tea or coffee, though strange to say that tea and coffee actually send some people into sound slumber. “ I well recollect the late Dr. Wilberforce, then Bishop of Oxford, telling my father, then most actively engaged as Dean of Westminster, of his patent way of going to sleep. It is better than the old-fashioned prescription of watching sheep jumping through a hedge, one after another, ships sailing out to sea, etc. The Bishop’s prescription was to repeat very slowly THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 8l the vowels A E I O. In doing this tliey were to be faintly pronounced with each inspiration and expira- tion. It will be found easy to do this without mov- ing the lips; but the vowel U must not be pro- nouneed, for to do this the muscular action of the lips necessarily takes place, and sleep comes not. I advise my readers to try this plan. “ I now venture to suggest a new but simple remedy for want of sleep. Opiates in any form, even the liquor opii and chlorodyne, will leave some traees of their influence the next morning. I there- fore prescribe for myself — and have frequently done so for others — onions; simply common onions raw, but Spanish onions stewed will do. Everybody knows the taste of onions; this is due to a peculiar essential oil contained in this most valuable and healthy root. This oil has, I am sure, highly sopo- rific powers. In my own case they never fail. If I am much pressed with work, and feel I shall not sleep, I eat two or three small onions, and the effect is magical. Onions are also excellent things to eat when much exposed to intense cold. Mr. Parnabjq Troutdale Fishery, Keswick, informed me that, when collecting salmon and trout eggs in the winter, he finds that common raw onions enable him and his men to bear the ice and cold of the semi-frozen water much better than spirits, beer, etc. The Arctic expeditions should therefore take a good stock of onions. Finally, if a person cannot sleep, it is because the blood is in his brain, not in his stomach ; the remedy, therefore, is obvious : call the blood down from the brain to the stomach. This is to be done by eating a biscuit, a hard-boiled egg, a bit of bread and cheese, -or something. Follow this up with a glass of milk, or even water, and you will fall asleep, and will, I trust, bless the name of the writer.” “There are many ways of inducing sleep, — the thinking of purling rills, or waving woods; reckon- ing of numbers; droppings from a wet sponge, fixed over a brass pan, etc. But temperance and exercise answer much better than any of these.” — Sterne. “ Different matters are arranged in my head as in drawers ; I open one drawer and close another as I wish. I have never been kept awake by an involun- tary pre-occupation of the mind. If I desire repose, I shut up all the drawers, and sleep. I have always slept when I wanted rest, and almost at will.” — Napoleon I. “ From an observation of more than sixty years, I have learnt that man in health requires, at an average, from six to seven hours sleep ; and healthy women a F little more — from seven to eight in four-and-twenty hours. I know this quantity of sleep to be most advantageous to the body as well as the sold. It is preferable to any medicine which I have known both for preventing and removing nervous disorders.” — J. Wesley. SLEEP. F all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar. Among the Psalmist’s music deep. Now tell me if that any is For gift or grace surpassing this, — “He giveth his beloved sleep What would we give to our beloved.^ The hero’s heart, to be unmoved, — The poet’s star-tuned harp, to sweep, — The patriot’s voice, to teach and rouse, — The monarch’s crown, to light the brows “ He giveth his beloved sleep.” What do we give to our beloved.^ A little faith, all undisproved, — A little dust, to overweep, — And bitter memories, to make The whole earth blasted for our sake, “ He giveth his beloved sleep.” “Sleep soft, beloved!” we sometimes say. But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep; But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when “ He giveth his beloved sleep.” O earth, so full of dreary noise! O men, with wailing in your voice! O delved gold the wailers heap! O strife, O curse, that o’er it fall! God strikes a silence through you all. And “giveth his beloved sleep.” His dews drop mutely on the hill. His cloud above it saileth still. Though on its slope men sow and reap; More softly than the dew is shed. Or cloud is floated overhead, “ He giveth his beloved sleep.” For me, my heart, that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show. That sees through tears the mummers leap. Would now its wearied vision close. Would childlike on His love repose Who “giveth his beloved sleep.” — Mrs. Browni.vg. 83 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. SPECTERS AND DREAMS. “ Things not within our wits to solve, Oft in our minds as ghosts revolved’ This couplet of homely poetry contains a thought always to be kept in mind in dealing with those things seemingly out of the natu- ral order, and will answer as a kind of motto for the following theory, taken largely from the works of Profs. Wilson and Draper, in regard to the causes of dreams, ghosts, and other illusions. It furnishes a possible explana- tion for much of the “Spiritual phenomena” of the day, or at least gives a hint of a branch of science that it would be well to study care- fully before attributing to supernatural causes, appearances and impressions that may be accounted for on known principles of physics. Dreams serye, at least to some extent, to indicate our dominant propensities. “ If any man desire,” says Shute, “ to make a right use of dreams, let him consider himself, in his dreaming, to what inclination he is mostly carried, and so by his thoughts in the night he shall learn to know himself in the day.” They may also be, as it were, manufactured to order. Dr. Gregory, by placing a bottle of hot water to his feet, dreamed he was ascending Mt. Etna. Dr. Reid put a blister on his head, and dreamed of being scalped. Some physiologists believe that the sensa- tions which the nerves of taste, touch, smell, sight and hearing convey to the brain, leave upon that organ impressions which can be fully eradicated only by death ; and that these impressions, which may be regarded as im- ages of the outward world, the mind makes use of in memory, in imagination, in visions, in fancied apparitions, and in dreams; often forming new and strange combinations very different from the original impressions. It is also believed that every impression made upon the material substance of the brain pro- duces some permanent change in its structure, and that one impression never completely effaces another ; that the mind can, as it were, see all of them., and that what the mind or soul thus learns, death itself cannot destroy. Even certain physical phenomena, explained by Dr. Draper, give countenance to the the- ory of permanent impressions upon the ma- terial substance of the brain. He says: “If on a cold, polished piece of metal, any object, as a wafer, is laid, and the metal then be breathed upon, and, when the moisture has had time to fully disappear, the wafer be thrown off, though now upon the polished surface the most critical inspection can dis- cover no trace of any form, yet, if we breathe upon it, a spectral figure of the wafer comes into view, and this may be done again and again. And more : if the polished metal be carefully put aside where nothing can dete- riorate its surface, and be so kept for many months, on breathing again upon it, the shadowy form emerges; or, if a sheet of paper on which a key or other object is laid be carried for a few moments into the sun- shine, and then instantaneously viewed in the dark, the key being simultaneously removed, a fading specter of the key on the paper will be seen. And if the paper be put away where nothing can disturb it, and so kept for many months, if it then be carried away into a dark place and^ laid on a piece of hot metal, the specter of the key will come forth. In the case of bodies more highly phosphorescent than paper, the specters of many different objects which may have been in succession laid originally thereon will, on warming, emerge in their proper order. “ I introduce these illustrations,” says Dr. Draper, “ for the purpose of showing how trivial are the impressions which may be thus registered and preserved. Indeed, I believe that a shadow never falls upon a wall with- out leaving thei'eon its permanent trace — a trace which might be made visible by resort- ing to proper processes. But if on such inor- ganic surfaces impressions may in this way be preserved, how much more likely is it THE LIFE Til AT NOW IS. that the same thing occurs in the wonderfully constituted nerve bundles of the brain!” Hut, whether the impressions of sense be permanently fixed in the material substance of the brain or not, there is no reason for supposing that any perceptions which the mind has once taken notice of can ever be lost; and if at any time memory fails to recall them, it is because the brain, and not the mind itself, becomes impaired. While in the exer- cise 'of ordinary memory, imj^ressions and. trains of thought are recalled in their real character and natural order, it is not so in what are called visions, fancied apparitions, and in dreams. The most common visions — unreal objects which we fancy — ai'e doubt- less the remains of impressions which have been made on the optic nerve, and which are recalled by a strong mental effort. Others arise from the disease of the nerve, often producing, by the- impressions conveyed from the diseased nerve to the brain, grotesque images among the real objects at which we are looking. Some unusual pressure of blood upon this nerve will often produce apparent flashes of light, or objects apparently floating in the air. These appearances are indications of disease in the nerve. When, in addition to the optic nerve, portions of the brain become affected by disease, former impres- sions often become mingled with the present, and the complicated scenes of a passing drama are displayed. Thus, in the delirium tremens which so often follows a sudden cessation from the customary use of alcohol to excess, phantoms appear moving around among real objects. “ The form of a cloud no bigger than the hand may perhaps first be seen floating over the carpet; but this, as the eye follows it, takes on a definite shape, and the sufferer sees with dismay a writhing serpent on the floor. Or, out of an indistinct cloud, faces, sometimes of surpassing loveliness, but more frequently of hideous aspect, emerge, another face succeeding as one dies away. % The mind, ever ready to practice imposture iqDon itself, will at least accomjiany the illu- sion with grotesque or even dreadful inven- tions.” The illusions to which one is subject under such derangements of the brain take a character from the jDrevious occupation, travel, mental habits, or reading of the sick man. Former trains of thought and former scenes, although often confusedly mingled, assume to the individual all the vividness of existing realities. To opium eaters are often pre- sented spectacles of more than earthly splen- dor. {See De ^uincey in his “ Confessions of an English Opium-Eater.") What are called apparitions or sjsectral appearances, physiology endeavors to exjslain upon scientific principles. They arise from a disturbance of the retina of the eye, which gives a false interjD relation of present impres- sions, sometimes the vivid recalling of old images which have been stored up in the brain, but which the mind then looks upon as present realities, and sometimes the two causes unite to produce the effect. Upon these principles the mind, in apparitions, could never see anything absolutely new to it. Thus, to the Greeks and Romans came the ghosts in the forms of their heathen images. The monks of the middle ages saw phantoms of the Virgin and Saints, for these were the objects which their minds most dwelt upon; and at a later period, in Europe, fairies, brownies, etc., were the specters most frequently seen. Prior to the time of Colum- bus no European ever witnessed the ghost of an American Indian, yet they prevailed after the voyage of discovery. And Indian spec- ters were no strangers to the early colonial settlers. The belief in the apparitions of the dead has survived all changes of creed and super- stitions. Yet in them nothing new is seen. The American sees the shade of his friend clothed in a modern garb; and the European sees his grandfather in knee-breeches and 84 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. shoes with silver buckles. In short, it is a very significant fact that ghosts always appear in the garb of the age in which they lived on the earth ; and if they are really visitors from another world, as is claimed by some, instead of phantoms, to be accounted for on some such grounds as the foregoing, how gro- tesque and varied must be the habiliments worn by the throng who have passed into the futui'e state. MARRIAGE. “Marriage is honorable in all.” — Bible. “ Marriage is the nursery of heaven.” — Jeremy Taylor. “No man can either live piously or die righteous without a wife.” — Richter. “Hail! wedded love, Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets!” — Milton. Marriage is defined as the union of a man and woman in the legal relation of husband and wife. Monogamy, or the marriage of one man to one woman, is the rule amongst the most advanced races of mankind. Po- lygamy, or more strictly speaking polygyny, that is, the taking of many women in the marriage relation at the same time, prevails rather extensively, even in regions whither civilization has extended; and it seems to be permitted by the law of nature, as indeed it also was by the law of Moses, though the almost absolute numerical equality in the sexes proves irresistably that the monogamic marriage is most in accord with the design of the Creator. Polyandry, or the taking of many husbands without even the formality of a divorce from any, still prevails in Tibet, in parts .of India and Ceylon, in New'Zealand, in some of the Polynesian Islands, and else- where in remote uncivilized corners of the earth; and was, it is thought, at one time still more extensive, being probably the first stage of pi'ogress from the promiscuity that appertains to the lowest barbarism. Marriage is regarded in every civilized community as the most important of civil contracts; and throughout Christendom has the added sanction of being considered a religious ceremony, while in the Roman Catholic church it is furthermore esteemed a sacrament. MARRIAGE AND CELIBACY. “And God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multi- ply, and replenish the earth.” — Bible. “To be a man in a true sense is, in the first place, and above all things, to have a wife.”- — M ichelet. Notwithstanding the divine injunction in favor of marriage, celibacy has had at various times, as it still has in the Roman Catholic church, some quasi-religious sanction as a superior condition of existence. This idea seems to have originated in the ancient and wide-spread philosophy of a good and evil principle in nature. The body, being ma- terial, was considered the seat of the evil principle; and the spiritual soul, the center of the good principle. Hence the Jewish sect of the Essenes esteemed celibacy as the chief help to sanctity. And early in the his- tory of Christianity — perhaps partly through the prevalent idea that the end of the world was near at hand — this view obtained very generally among believers; and is indeed to this day fondly cherished in the bosom of the Roman Catholic church, though without denial of the lawfulness of marriage; and even despite the teaching that this last is a sacrament. “ Humble wedlock is far better than proud virginity,” said Augustine; but wedlock in its best type ranks confessedly second to the exalted state of virginity. As early as A. D. 305, the synod of Elvira ordained that the higher clergy — bishops, priests and dea- cons — should abstain from marriage; and this view, receiving, amongst other helps, a renewed impulse tlirough the severe enact- ments of Hildebrand (Pope Gregory VII.) in the eleventh century against mari'ied priests, became, in spite of many and oft-repeated struggles, the geileral law of the Western church. rilE LIFE THAT NOW IS. At the era of the Reformation, in the gen- eral overhauling of the doctrines and prac- tices of the church incidental to that religious revolution, the question of the celibacy of the clergy came up again for consideration; but the Council of Trent, in 1563, peremp- torily closed the discussion, as far as the Catholics were concerned, by one of its irre- fragable decrees enforcing celibacy. The Eastern or Greek church, on the contrary, has persistently adhered to the ancient custom, sanctioned by apostolic example as well as by a Council of Constantinople in the seventh century, of permitting the marriage of the lower clergy. The higher orders, as bishops, archbishops, metropolitans and patriarchs are, however, required to observe celibacy. CUSTOMS OF THE ANCIENTS. The gymnosophists or half-naked ascetics of India abstained from marriage, as well as from the use of meat, and indeed from all bodily pleasures, and were esteemed as the holiest and best of mankind by their less ab- stemious countrymen. In Egypt, the priests of Isis were required to practice celibacy. Among the Israelites, marriage was per- mitted to the priests, but with certain restric- tions. In Greece, celibacy was regarded as the duty and privilege of the priesthood. In Rome, the Vestal virgins were alone deemed worthy to guard the sacred fire, the symbol, apparently, of the life of the state, or of life in general. Ancient Persia also had its virgin priestesses of the sun. But in Greece and Rome, lay celibates were visited with suitable penalties; in Sparta, they were even declared infamous; and by the laws of Lycurgus, might be mobbed by the women, and chas- tised in the temple of Hercules; while Plato taught that the celibates of thirty-five and upwards should be declared incapable of holding office! In Rome, they were de- clared incapable of making wills or testify- ing in the courts, with the added penalty. 85 according to popular belief, of suffering spe- cial torments in the world to come! But with the progress of civilization, the preju- dice against celibacy relaxed somewhat; and many philosophers and others practiced it without incurring any particular obloquy. MARRIAGE AND LONGEVITY. It has been clearly ascertained by statisti- cians that the married live longer than the single. Women married at 25 live four years longer than the single of that age. Seventy- two married women live to 45, against fifty- two unmarried. The mortality among the bachelors between the ages of 30 and 35 is 27 per cent. ; among married men between the same ages, 18 per cent. Seventy-eight mar- ried men reach 40, while only forty-one bach- elors arrive at that age. Forty-one married attain 45, against eighteen unmarried. At the age of 60, there are forty-eight benedicts to eleven bachelors. And at 80, there are nine of the one to three of the other class. DIRECTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS. “ What, therefore, God hath joined together let not man put asunder.” — Bible. The greatest of earthly blessings, next to life and health, is a good wife or husband. Marriage should be considered the natural condition, the normal state, of all men who have arrived at the age of twenty-five to thirty, and of all women between twenty and twenty-five. “ Marriage is the best state for man in general,” says Johnson, “and every man is a worse man in proportion as he is unfit for the married state.” Ordinarily, hu- man beings should not deprive themselves of the benefits of that condition. In the un- married, the mind remains not only unmated, but unsettled and dissatisfied, being dejjrived of the intimate companionship the married state commands; and learns to prey upon itself, creating a morbid and unnatural state of feeling that hastens death, or sends its victim to an insane asylum. 86 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. There are, however, some inconveniences and burdens appertaining to marriage that the single are free from; and there are no marriages that are full of unalloyed delights, though there are many that are good enough for earthly happiness. But the wisest and best of our kind have in all ages repeated the assurance of Holy W rit that “ It is not good that the man should be alone ” ; and uniformly maintained that the inconveniences of mar- riage are abundantly recompensed by the increased comfort and the calm contentment that ordinarily attach to that condition, wher- ever the commonest pi'udence has been ex- ercised in the choice of a life-companion. There is much talk of the cares of matri- mony, but people forget that celibacy is not a sovereign antidote to care ; and it is not a ques- tion of freedom from care, but rather what cares are the most worthy of a true man or woman. It might be here added, that those persons who excuse themselves from mar- riage on the plea of the difficulty of being suited, demonstrate their impudence rather than their superior discrimination or virtue, as they seek an ideal perfection in another, which they make no effort to acquire them- selves. As many, if not most, of the disagree- ments that arise between husband and wife are about the merest trifles, it would tend much to prevent them if each would remem- ber that “it will be all the same a hundred years hence”; and that the one who yields the most readily and gracefully has the more noble character. The more convinced you are of being right, the less you lose by yield- ing the point at issue. Marriage between persons of different re- ligious beliefs should be avoided, unless they are each possessed of more than the average degree of tolerance. Indeed, in most relig- ious systems tolerance is thought equivalent to a virtual denial of the faith. The husband and wife might profitably establish a man and woman’s rights society of two members, in which the wife should look after the rights of the husband, and the husband those of the wife. They should also divide equally the executive authority, the hus- band bearing rule in the “ shop,” with the wife as his prime minister and privy councilor; and the wife wielding the sovereign authority in the home, the husband rendering loyal service and sage counsel. “ Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence,” says - the Bible ; “ and likewise also the wife unto the husband.” Neither, however, should be over-given to advising — much less command- ing — remembering the pathetic lamentation of Burns anent that weakness : “Ah, gentle dames ! it gaes me greet To think how monie counsels sweet, How monie lengthen’d sage advices. The husband frae the wife despises.” “Marriage has in it less of beauty, but more of safety, than the single life; it hath not more ease, but less danger ; it is more merry and more sad ; it is fuller of sorrows and fuller of joys; it lies under more burdens, but is supported by all the strengths of love and charity ; and those burdens are delight- ful. Marriage is the mother of the world, and pre- serves kingdoms, and fills cities and churches and heaven itself” — ^Jeremy Taylor. “ A married man falling into misfortune is more apt to retrieve his situation in the world than a sin- gle one, chiefly because his spirits are soothed and retrieved by domestic endearments, and his self- respect kept alive by finding that although all abroad be darkness and humiliation, yet there is a little world of love at home over which he is a monarch.” — I dem. “ I chose my wife, as she did her wedding gown, for qualities that would wear well.”— G oldsmith. “ He that hath wife and children hath given hos- tages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief Certainly wife and children are a kind of discipline of hu- manit3 '.” — Bacon. “ It is a mistake to consider marriage merely as a scheme of happiness. It is also a bond of service. It is the most ancient form of that social ministra- tion which God has ordained for all human beings, and which is symbolized by all the relations of nature.” — Chapin. THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 87 “Go down the ladder when thou marriest a wife; go up when thou choosest a friend.” — I ^en Azai. “ When it shall please God to bring thee to man’s estate, use great providence and circumspection in choosing thy wife. For from thence will spring all thy future good or evil; and it is an action of life, like unto a stratagem of war, wherein a man can err but once.” — Sir Philip Sidney. “ Deceive not thyself by over-e.xpecting happiness in the marriage state. Look not therein for content- ment greater than God will give, or a creature in this world can receive, namely, to be free from all inconveniences. Marriage is not, like the hill of Olympus, wholly clear without clouds.” — Fuller. “ As a great part of the uneasiness of matrimony arises from mere trifles, it would be wise in every young married man to enter into an agreement with his wife, that in all disputes of this kind the party who was most convinced they were right should always surrender the victory. By which means both w'ould be more forward to give up the cause.” — Fielding. Beauty of mind, character and disposition go farther toward securing the happiness of the married than the superficial charms of mere physical comeliness. “ They who marry for traits of mind and heart,” says Dr. Hall, “ will seldom fail of perennial springs of domestic enjoyment.” ' SOME CURIOUS FACTS ABOUT MARRIAGE. It is found that young men from fifteen to twenty years of age marry young women averaging two or three years older than themselves, but if they delay marriage until 'they are twenty or twenty-five years old, their spouses average a year younger than themselves ; and thenceforward this difference steadily increases till, in extreme old age, on the bridegroom’s part, it is apt to be enor- mous. The inclination of octogenarians to wed misses in their teens is an evervday occurrence; but it is amusing to find in the love matches of boys that the statistics bear out the satires of Thackeray and Balzac. Again, the husbands of young women aged twenty and under average a little above twenty-five years, and the inequality of age diminishes thenceforward, until, for women who have reached thirty, their respective ages are equal; after thirty-five years, women, like men, marry those younger than themselves, the disproportion increasing with age, till at fifty-five it averages nine years. Widowers indulge in second marriages three or four times as often as widows. Mr. Finlayson, a European statistician, a few years ago prepared the following table, which fixes the age of hopeless old-maidism. Of 1,000 married women, taken without selec- tion, it was found that the number married at each age was as follows: AGES. CHANCES. AGES. CHANCES. 14 to 15 32 28 to 29 41 16 to 17 lOI 10 to ^ I . . 18 18 to 19 219 32 to 33 IS 20 to 21 230 34 to 35 8 22 to 24 165 36 to 37 4 24 to 25 102 38 to 39 2 26 to 27 60 CURIOUS MARRIAGE CUSTOM. “ At Petze, in the department of Finisterre, in France, the following singular marriage custom still prevails : ‘ On an appointed day, the paysannes (female peasants), pretenders to the holy state of matrimony, assemble on the bridge of the village, and, seating themselves upon the parapet, there patiently await the arrival of the intended bridegrooms. All the neighboring cantons contribute their belles to orna- ment this renowned bridge. There may be seen the peasant of Saint Poliare, her ruddy countenance surrounded by her large muslin sleeves, which rise up and form a kind of framework to her full face; by her may be seated the heavy Touloisienne, in her cloth caline, or gown ; the peasant of La Leonardo, in a Swiss boddice, bordered with different colored worsted braid, and a scarlet petticoat, may next appear, presenting a gaudy contrast to her neighbor from Saint Thegonnec, in her nun-like costume. On one side extends la coulie de Penhoal, bordered with willows, honeysuckles, and the wild hop; on the other, the sea, confined here like a lake, between numerous jets of land covered with heath and sweet broom ; and below the bridge, the thatched town, poor and joyous as the beggar of Carnouailles. The bay is here so calm that the whole of this gay scene is reflected in its still w’aters; and few scenes of CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 88 rural festivity present a more animated or diverting picture. “ ‘ The arrival of the young men with their parents is the signal for silence among the candidates for a husband. The gentlemen advance, and gravely pa- rade up and down the bridge, looking first on this side and then on that, until the face of some one of the lasses strikes their fancy. The fortunate lady receives intimation of her success by the advance of the cavalier, who, presenting his hand, assists her in descending from her seat, making at the same time a tender speech ; compliments are exchanged, the young man offers fruit to his intended bride, who remains motionless before him, playing with her apron strings. In "the meanwhile the parents of the parties approach each other, talk over the matter of their children’s marriage, and if both parties are agreeable they shake hands, and this act of friendly gratulation is considered a ratification of the treaty between them, and the marriage is shortly afterward celebrated.’ ” AN ACTUAL MARRIAGE LOTTERY. Marriage has often been called a lottery, but it remained for a citizen of Louisiana to reduce the metaphor into a prosy reality by advertising the following matrimonial lottery, meant no doubt as a satirical joke on the assumed venality of the sex: “ A young man of good figure and disposition, unable, though desirous, to procure a wife, without the preliminary trouble of amassing a fortune, pro- poses the following expedient to attain the object of his wishes. He offers himself as the prize of a lot- tery to all widows and virgins under thirty-two. The number of tickets to be six hundred, at fifty dollars each. But one number to be drawn from the wheel, the fortunate proprietor of which is to be entitled to himself and the thirty-thousand dollars.” THE VIRTUOUS WIFE FAR ABOVE RUBIES. Who can find a virtuous woman ? for her price is far above rubies.^* — Bible. “Far above the ruby in value is the diamond. Some diamond hunter recently found a diamond the reported value of which was about $1,400,000. Under the auctioneer’s hammer this gem might be knocked down at a trifie less — say $ i ,399,999. But such gems are difficult of appraisement. “Just so with the good woman whose photograph is given in the last chapter of Proverbs. Diamonds and costly rubies are not generally hawked about in the market. The excellent woman is not for sale. It may indeed be possible to get her, just for the asking, if the one who seeks her is he to whom she ought to be given. She is rare. She is almost as plenty as fourteen hundred thousand dollar diamonds. Her value is beyond the power of the shrewdest gem dealers to appraise. ‘ Her price is far above rubies.’ “ Ruby, diamond, chalcedony, pearl and emerald are all cold, dead things. They glitter and dazzle. They make people envious and uncomfortable, but they cheer nobody, they feed nobody, they comfort nobody. The plainest looking woman, who is help- ful and loving and pleasant and thrifty and kind and companionable and brave, is worth more than all the glittering gems in Christendom. “ While Solomon’s harem provoked the envious admiration of the monarchs of all the other nations, there were a great many women in it whom he devoutly wished he had never seen. There were disagreeable women, whose tongues kept up a con- tinuous clatter. There were censorious scolds, whom it was impossible to satisfy. There were idle, shift- less, lazy beauties, always in the way, and never accomplishing anything. There were slatternly specimens of untidiness, hideous to behold. There were gossiping tattlers, manufacturers of everything undesirable in the womanly line. “ How beautifully, then, stands out in relieving contrast, at the end of his reflections on the good and the bad, the picture of this model woman ! “ ‘ The heart of her husband doth safely trust her.’ That would be almost enough, considering the amount^of unreliable feminine baggage that no man could trust. There the picture might stop, as it would be only a sketch. He throws in the sunlight against the shadow, and photographs her in detail. Why is she trustworthy } Because, having consented to take the man for better or worse, ‘ she will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.’ She has not joined herself to him merely for the sake of a living, but for their mutual good; not for the gilt sign over his warehouse, but because her interest is his, and his ig hers. Instead of worrying him when ti-ade is slack, and times are tight, and money is scarce, and debtors pay up slowly, she puts her hand to busi- ness and gives the poor fellow a lift in bearing his burdens. Instead of considering life’s great end the undisturbed morning nap, ‘ she riseth while it is yet night.’ With never a grunt or a groan at having to get out of bed so early, she starts the household for the day. With a cheery word and a pleasant smile for everybody she meets, she proceeds royally about the day’s duty. If the duties of the man who is THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 89 proud to call her his wife are arduous, she lightens them. If' dajs are dark with him, she gilds them with the sunshine of her presence. If things go wrong, she visits him with no word of bitter reproof or painful complaining, but ‘in her tongue is the law of kindness.’ Her household are clothed with scarlet, and she contributes largely to it; and not by letting her husband sit in idleness while she does the work, but by the delightful encouragement she gives him, the helpful good word, the ringing laugh of joy, the rosy welcome home from labor, she makes it impossible for him to be otherwise than prosperous. “ And ‘ her husband is known in the gates.’ Not by hanging around them as an idler, and being solicited by the police to move on; but known as the husband of the excellent woman ; of the woman who is the best wife in town ; the woman who makes home delightful, and whom everybody who knows her loves and admires. “ Blessings on you, good madam. All the precious things in the world are not to be compared to you. May you be happy till a genial old age shall place on your brow the silver testimonial of a crown of glory. And may you pass in peaceful triumph through the pearly gate to receive the other crown ‘ which fadeth not awaj'.’ ” — Chicago Gtiardian. MARRIAGE. T hen before All they stand, — the holy vow And ring of gold, no fond illusions now. Bind her as his. Across the threshold led. And every tear kissed off as soon as shed. His house she enters, — there to be a light, Shining within, when all without is night; A guardian angel o’er his life presiding. Doubling his pleasures and his cares dividing. Winning him back when mingling in the throng. Back from a world we love, alas! too long. To fireside happiness, to hours of ease. Blest with that charm, the certainty to please. How oft her eyes read his; her gentle mind To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined ; Still subject, — ever on the watch to borrow Mirth of his mirth and sorrow of his sorrow! The soul of music slumbers in the shell. Till waked and kindled bv the master’s spell. And feeling hearts — touch them but rightly — pour A thousand melodies unheard before ! Samuel Rogers. Though twain, yet one, and running to one goal. As chariot wheels, though twain, together roll ; Light be your load of life, your pathway clear, Y our common goal when furthest seem most near. Caldwell. THE ZONE OF LIFE. Insignificant as the spot wc inhabit, the zone of life — the area which not only all that live and breathe and move inhabit, hut in which all vegetation is contained — is still more limited. From the submarine forest in the lowest dejDth of the sea, to the highest altitude to which the condor soars, above the perpetual snow, is but twelve miles! Within those scanty limits, six miles of air above us, six miles of water beneath, everything that has vitality is confined. If the salamander lives in the central fire, the exception is so small as scarcely to be worth mentioning. The air presses upon the earth with a force equal to thirty-three feet of water, and upon every average human body with a weight of fifteen tons, which only does not crush us as flat as pancakes because the air surrounds us on all sides, including our insides, and thereby the weight is balanced. To most of us, natui'c is one vast mirage, suggesting infinite delu- sions; and even to the learned many things still remain to be cleared ujd by slow-moving science in future ages. Who would imagine, upon the face of the matter, for instance, that, in an airless world, not a sound could ever be heard! On the contrary, in still and silent space, one would conceive that we might hear a pin drop from the moon. Hawksbee demonstrated the contrary of this fact in a memorable experiment before the Royal Society one hundred and eighty years ago. He placed a clock under the receiver of an air-pump, in such a way that flie striking of the clapper would continue after the air had been exhausted; while the receiver was full of air, the sound was quite audible; when it was empty, all was silent. Again, when the air was introduced, there w'as a feeble sound, growing in intensity as the air grew denser. At the top of Mont Blanc, the report of a pistol is no louder than that of a common cracker let off at the level of the sea. “Above two miles,” sa}’s Mr. Glaisher, who CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. 90 as everybody knows, is an aeronaut of con- siderable experience, “ all noise ceases. I never encountered a silence more complete and solemn than in the heights of the atmos- phere — in those chilling solitudes to which no terrestrial sound reaches.” On the other hand, clouds absolutely facilitate the transmis- sion of sound. Above a great city, to a height of from 1,000 to 1,500 feet, there is always a noise, “ immense, colossal and inde- scribable.” The whistle of a steam engine is heard at 10,000 feet, the noise of a train 8,200, says M. Flammarion ; but Mr. Glaisher testifies to having heard this latter when 22,000 * feet up in the air; the barking of a dog and the report of a gun rise each up to 5,000 feet; the shouts of a crowd of people, the crowing of a cock, the tolling of a bell, to 5,000 feet; and the shout of a human being, to 3,300 feet. LENGTH OF LIFE. The average of human life is 33 years. One-fourth of the population dies at or before the average of 7 years; one-half, at or before 1 7 years. Among ten thousand persons, one arrives at the age of 100 years, twenty attain the age of 90, and one in one hundred lives to the age of 60. In one thousand persons, ninety- five marry; and more marriages occur in June and December than in any other months of the year. One-eighth of the whole population is military. Professions exercise a great in- fluence on longevity. The rich live longer than the poor. The average duration of life is ascertained to be greater now than it has ever been befoi'e. The average number of births per day is about 120,000; per hour, 6,000; per minute, 100. The births exceed the deaths by about 15 per minute. There are more males than females born by 4 per cent. At the age of 20 there are more females than males. At the age of 40 the preponderance is again on the other side, and there are more males than females. At 70 the sexes are again even. Between 70 and 100 years there are 15,300 more women than men, or an excess of 5 per cent. The mor- tality of women is greatest between the ages of 20 and 40. After 40 years of age, the probabilities of longevity, as is shown, are far greater for females than for males. The favorable influence of marriage on longevity is well known, and has been already shown under “ Length of Life.” There have been- many alleged cases of longevity in all ages ; but, as parochial registers were not kept until 1538, the following, occur- ring since that time, have greater authenticity : DIED. AGED. Countess of Desmond. 1612 145 Thomas Parr 1635 152 Thomas Damme 1648 154 Dr. W. Meade, England 1652 149 James Bowles, Englana 1656 152 Henry Jenkins 1670 169 Lady Eccleston, Ireland 1691 143 Mrs. Scrimshaw, England 1711 127 Peter Torton 1724 185 Margaret Patten, England i739 - 136 John Rovin, Hungary 1741 172 Alexander M’Culloch, Scotland 1757 132 Donald Cameron, Scotland 1759 130 James Sheil, Ireland 1759 136 Mrs. Taylor, England 1763 131 John Mount, Scotland, 1766 136 John Hill, Scotland 1766 130 Col. Thos. Winslow, Ireland 1766 146 Mr. Whalley, England 1771 121 Mrs. Clum, England, 1772 138 William Beeby, Ireland i774 i.30 Widow Jones, Scotland 177S ^^5 Mr. Evans, England 1780 139 Robert Mac Bride, Hebrides 1780 130 William Ellis, England 1780 130 Mary Cameron, Scotland I7^4 ^^9 Cardinal de Solis 1785 no Archibald Cameron, Scotland 1791 122 Charles Macklin, London 1797 107 Mr. Creeke, England 1806 125 Catherine Lopez, Jamaica 1806 134 Mrs. Meighan, Ireland 1813 130 Mary Innes, Isle of Skye 1814 127 Jane Lewson, England 1816 116 Mrs. Martha Rorke, Ireland 1840 133 Jean Golembeski, Paris 1851 126 Mrs. Mary Power, Ireland 1853 116 James Nolan, Ireland i 1858 116 t THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. LONGEVITY AND CIVILIZATION. In an interesting paper by Dr. Edward Jarvis, in the fifth annual report of the Mas- sachusetts Board of Health, the following vital statistics, past and present, of various countries, strikingly show how the advance of civilization has prolonged life: In ancient Rome, in the period 200 to 500 years after the Christian era, the average dura- tion of life, in the most favored class, was 30 years. In the present century, the average longevity of persons of the same class is 50 years. In the sixteenth century, the average longevity in Geneva was 21.21 years; be- tween 1S14 and 1833 it was 40.68, and as large a portion now live to 70 as lived to 43, three hundred years ago. In 1693 the British government borrowed money by selling annuities on lives from infancy upward, on the basis of the aver- age longevity. The Treasury received the price and paid the annuities regularly as long as the inhabitants lived. The contract was mutually satisfactory and profitable. Ninety-seven years later, Mr. Pitt used another tontine or scale of annuities, on the basis of the same expectation of life as in the previous centurv. These latter annuitants, however, lived so much longer than their predecessors, that it proved to be a very costly loan for the government. It was found, that while 10,000 of each sex in the first tontine died under the age of 28, only 5,772 males and 6,416 females in the second tontine died at the same age, 100 years later. The average life of the annuitants of 1693 was 26.5 years, while those of 1790 lived 33 years and 9 months; that is, in each case, after they were 30 years old. From these facts, says Dr. Jarvis, it is plain that life, in many forms and manifesta- tions, and probably in all, can be expanded in vigor, intensity and duration under favor- able influences. For this purpose it is only necessary that the circumstances amid which. 9 ‘ and the conditions in which, any form of life is placed, should be brought into harmony with the law ajjpointed for its being. THE TEARS OF MAN'S LIFE. T he first seven years of life — man’s break of day — Gleams of short sense, a dawn of thought display; When fourteen springs have bloomed his downy cheek, His soft and bashful meanings learn to speak. From twenty-one, proud manhood takes its date. Yet is not strength complete till Hvetity-eight ; Thence to his five-and-thirticth, life’s gay fire Sparkles and burns intense in fierce desire. At forty-two his eyes grave wisdom wear. And the dark future dims him o’er with care; With forty-nine behold his toils increase. And bus_y hopes and fears disturb his peace. At fifty-six cool reason reigns entire ; Then life burns steady, and with temperate fire; But sixty-three unbends the body’s strength. Ere the unwearied mind has run her length; And when, at seventy, age looks her last. Tired, she stops short, and wishes all were past. SUMMARY OF LIFE. Some modern pbilo.sopher has given in these eleven lines the summary of life: 7 years in childhood’s sport and play 7 7 years in school from dav to day 14 7 years at trade or college life.. 21 7 years to find a place and wife 28 7 years to building upward given 35 7 years to business hardly driven 42 7 vears for some wild goose chase 49 7 years for wealth and bootless race. 56 7 years for hoarding for your heir 63 7 years in weakness, pain and care 70 Then die, and go — you should know where. DEATH. Lay your finger on your pulse, and know that at every stroke some immortal soul passes to its Maker — some fellow -being crosses the river of death; some sad accident of disease, disaster or crime, or the exhaustion of vitality, having closed his career. Estimating the j^opulation of the globe at 1,100,000,000, and the average duration of 92 CURIOSITIES OF HUMAN LIFE. life at 33 years, the yearly mortality is SS’SSS’SSS persons. This is at the rate of 91,262 per day, 3,803 per hour, or 63 per minute. Death is not pain. Professor Hufeland observes, in his work on longevity, that, “ Many fear death less than the operation of dying. People form the most singular con- ception of the last struggle, the separation of the soul from the body, and the like. No man certainly ever felt what death is; and, as insensibly as we enter into life, equally insensibly do we leave it.” His proofs are as follows: “First, man can have no sensation of dying ; for, to die, means nothing more than to lose the vital power; and it is the vital power which is the medium of communica- tion between the soul and body. In propor- tion as the vital power decreases, we lose the power of sensation and of consciousness ; and we cannot lose life without at the same time, or rather before, losing our vital sensation, which requires the assistance of the tenderest organs. We are taught, also, by experience, that all those who ever passed through the first stage of death, and were again brought to life, unanimously asserted that they felt nothing of dying, but sunk at once into a state of insensibility. “ Let us not be led into a mistake by the convulsive throbs, the rattling in the throat, and the apparent pangs of death, which are exhibited by many persons when in a dying state. These symptoms are painful only to the spectators, and not to the dying, who are not sensible of them. The case here is the same as if one, from the dreadful contortions of a person in an epileptic fit, should form a conclusion respecting his internal feelings; from what affects us so much, he suffers nothing. “Whatever be the causes of dissolution, whethe^r sudden violence or lingering mal- ady, the immediate modes by which death is brought about appear to be but two. In the one, the nervous system is primarily attacked, and there is a sinking, sometimes an instan- taneous extinction, of the powers of life; in the other, dissolution is effected by the circu- lation of black venous blood instead of the red arterial blood. The former is termed death by syncope, or fainting ; the latter, death by asphyxia. In the last-mentioned manner of death, when it is the result of disease, the - struggle is long, protracted, and accompanied by all the visible marks of agony which the imagination associates with the closing scene of life — the pinched and pallid features, the cold, clammy skin, the upturned eye, and the heaving, laborious, rattling respiration. Death does not strike all the organs of the body at the same time: some may be said to survive others; and the lungs are the last to give up the performance of their function, and die. As death approaches, they become more and more oppressed; the air-cells are loaded with an increased quantity of the fluid which naturally lubricates their surfaces; the air can no longer come into contact with the minute blood-vessels without first permeating the viscous fluid, hence the rattle; nor is the contact sufficiently perfect to change the black venous into the red arterial blood; an unprepared fluid consequently issues from the lungs into the heart, and is thence transmitted to every organ of the body. The brain re- ceives it, and its energies appear to be lulled into sleep — generally tranquil sleep, filled with dreams which impel the dying lip to murmur the names of friends, and the occu- pations and recollections of past life; the peasant ‘babbles o’ green fields’; Napoleon expires amid visions of battle, uttering, with his last breath, '■tete d' ai'inee.'' ” THE DEATH RATE. An examination of the life statistics of the census of this country and of Europe reveals many interesting paidiculars. The number THE , L I FE Til A T O W IS. 93 of