twelve years of age, Crabbe was sent to a school in Bungay. Soon after his arrival he had a very narrow escape. He and several of his schoolfellows were punished for playing at soldiers, by being put into a large dogkennel, known by the terrible name of the "Black-hole." George was the first that entered, and, the place being crammed full with offenders, the atmosphere became pestilentially close. The poor boy in vain shrieked that he was about to be suffocated. At last, in despair, he bit the lad next to him violently in the hand. "Crabbe is dying! Crabbe is dying!" roared the sufferer, and at length the sentinel opened the door, and allowed the boys to rush out into the air. "A minute more in the black-hole," said Crabbe," and I must have died.”

Walpole, in his celebrated letters, thus narrates a memorable instance of brutal ignorance, as regards the subject of air. There has been lately,' he says, 'the most shocking scene of murder imaginable. A parcel of drunken constables took it into their heads to put the law in execution against disorderly persons, and so took up every person they met, till they had collected five or six and twenty, all of whom they thrust into St. Martin's round-house, where they kept them all night, with doors and windows closed. The poor creatures, who could not stir or breathe, screamed as long as

they had any breath left, begging, at least, for water. One poor wretch said she was worth eighteen-pence, and would gladly give it for a draught of water; but in vain. So well did they keep them there, that in the morning four were found stifled to death, two died soon after, and a dozen more are in a shocking way. In short, it is horrid to think what the poor creatures suffered. Several of them were beggars, who from having no having no lodging were necessarily found on the street, and others honest labouring

women.'

And now behold your tender nurse, the air,
And common neighbour that aye runs around ;
How many pictures and impressions fair

Within her empty regions are there found,
Which to your senses dancing do propound;
For what are breath, speech, echoes, music, winds,
But dancings of the air in sundry kinds?

For when you breathe, the air in order moves,
Now in, now out, in time and measure true;
And when you speak, so well she dancing loves,
That doubling oft, and oft redoubiing new,
With thousand forms she doth herself endue;
For all the words that from your lips repair,
Are nought but tricks and turnings of the air.

Oh! there is sweetness in the mountain air,
And life, that bloated ease can never hope to share.

Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles;
And every sense and every heart is joy.

ON LIGHT.

Prime cheerer, Light!

Of all material things, the first and best!
Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe,
Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt
In unessential gloom!

NEXT to pure air, light is indispensable to health. The operation of light on the animal organism is recognised as urging to exercise, and increasing the beauty and activity of both the bodily and mental powers, while its absence disposes to obesity and sickness. The influence of solar light in permeating the skin, not only produces a salutary influence upon its tissue, but upon the blood; and, through this fluid, upon the whole system. An abundance of light is, therefore, of the greatest importance to health, and is one of nature's remedial agencies. Daylight, like warmth, is not a luxury, but a necessary of life. For the want of it, though it does not produce consequences immediately destructive to life, has a large share in occasioning those derangements of health, which not only tend to shorten life, but render it miserable while it lasts, and which effects are not confined to individuals, but are transmitted

from parent to offspring, through successive generations.

The application of these facts, especially in the physical education of the young, must not be lost sight of; indeed, they ought to be of great weight with every one capable of understanding them.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE EFFECTS OF LIGHT ON MAN.

It is observed by all that solar light exercises much influence upon the vigour and colour of plants and vegetables. The nutritive process is materially checked in all vegetables and animals when deprived of light for a considerable time. Deprivation of solar influence will prevent the development of animal bodies, and indeed, in numberless instances, produce the most injurious effects both upon the vegetable and animal creation. Plants that are kept in well-lighted rooms have darker and more brilliant colours than those which grow in darkened. apartments. So with individuals who labour or live in dark, low, damp, dismal rooms, in narrow, dark streets and lanes, and in dungeons; such persons are all pale and sickly.

Dr. Carpenter, in speaking of the influence. of light upon health, observes that an annual tendency to bodily deformity exists among children reared in cellars, or mines, or in dark

and narrow streets; the body rarely acquires its full development under such circumstances, and the mind cannot attain its full vigour. On the other hand, all travellers have noticed a remarkable freedom from deformity among those nations that wear but little clothing, and, where other circumstances are favourable, it is among such that the body acquires its greatest perfection. It is well known that in many of the deep valleys of the Alps, into which but very little sunlight finds its way, there are large numbers of strangely deformed beings, termed Cretins, most of whom are more or less idiotic ; some, indeed, being the most degraded specimens of the human race that it is possible to

conceive.'

Doubtless, in this case, other causes are in action besides the want of light; but there seems quite reason enough to believe that it is one of the chief, and probably the most important one of all.

The most satisfactory proof of the influence of light upon human health is, perhaps, that which is derived from the experience of large buildings, in which the condition of the dwellers in different parts is about the same in every particular excepting light. Thus, it has been stated by Sir Andrew Wylie, that the cases of disease on the dark side of an extensive barrack at St. Petersburg have been uniformly, for many years, in the proportion of three to one,