to form. It is not a choice between having | faithful consideration of our own moral no opinion and having a correct one; it is claims in the light of our inner life is not an alternative between an unexamined and only likely to make us careful when called prejudiced opinion and a carefully-formed on to judge others, but will also supply us one. Now, no thoughtful person can hesi- with material for framing the judgment. tate in admitting that this exchange is For other men's conduct has, after all, to vastly to the benefit of the person who be interpreted by our own feelings and exmakes it. Many indolent natures might perience, and unless we have accustomed no doubt prefer the sweets of an illusory ourselves to reflect very carefully on the good opinion of their own character, and springs of our own conduct, we shall often think it cruel in anybody to attempt to dis- miss the real clue to the actions of others. turb their infatuation by enforcing any The more we have tried to detect and such course of self-examination. But rea- weigh in the moral balance the ingredients sonable people will at once recognize that of our own character, the better fitted we such a deliverance from self-deception is | shall be to understand and do justice to an immense boon. For, in the first place, the complexity of a human action when it all error is weakness, and an erroneous happens to be another's. opinion respecting our own merits or powers renders us liable to innumerable evils and disappointments. Even the ridicule which is certain to be directed to a man's overweening estimate of himself is something worth escaping, and this is the smallest evil which results from the illusion. A person who thinks very much more highly of his intellectual powers or his social importance than his neighbours and friends, will of course fall into all kinds of miscalculation respecting his future. A just estimate of ourselves puts us on a level, so to speak, with others, and prevents us from duping ourselves by supposing that they will make more of us than they really intend to make. A calm and just opinion of one's own capabilities and attractions is indeed one of the most important conditions of intimate and beneficial social | by suggesting the possibility of our own

union.

Finally it may be. remarked, that the practice of estimating one's self carefully and accurately will serve to render one much more tolerant in judging of others. There is a natural bias to condemn others just as there is a natural bias to approve ourselves, and the cultivation of severe self-restraint in estimating ourselves will tend to counteract the first bias no less than the second. For to have gained a just and adequate insight into our own characters, with their defects as well as their merits, is to have placed ourselves on a lower pedestal in relation to others, and so to have raised others proportionately. Not only so, but the clear recognition of personal incompleteness which a rigid self-valuation necessitates, will temper one's feeling towards another's fault,

merit will appear understandable, human, and so less shocking, to such a one, because it can be brought into a conceivable relation to his own motives and impulses.

lapse into it. In this way the most conOther advantges, of no less important if scientious judge of his own character will of less tangible a kind, to be derived from become the most ready recognizer of the this practice may be found in the large in-naturalness of moral error. Another's decrease of moral power which it brings to the adopter of it. For it seems clear that a person who has sought to train himself in accurate judgment in relation to an object which presents the greatest temptations to superficial and one-sided appreciation, will be vastly stronger when called on to pass judgment on less perplexing objects. The habit of judging one's self impartially is plainly the best guarantee for the careful and conscientious estimation of others. By a patient cultivation of this art of self-appreciation there will be developed a power of self-restraint and a degree of sobriety and conscientious fidelity in forming judgment which cannot fail to display themselves in all the utterances of daily life.

And this increased conscientiousness in judging is not the only moral gain which this habit will bring to its cultivator. A

There is, however, one characteristic danger in this habit of judicial self-scrutiny which needs to be pointed out. We refer to the possibility of a conscientious performance of the task developing a certain unhealthy degree of anxiety with respect to one's self. All reflection on self, if carried very far, is apt to pass into morbid self-consciousness, and the moral investigation of one's own conduct and character has often led, as the history of religious asceticism abundantly shows, to the most miserable form of this self-consciousness. Wise concern passes into morbid anxiety, and then the person is afflicted with constant fears respecting his real desert.

When this state of mind is fully devel- lungs; or by deposition, which last proc oped, the wretched subject of it is unable ess requires several days for its comple to see any good in himself, and discerns tion. The most delicate test of the freedemerit where others perhaps find the dom of the air from solid matter was highest worth. Many of us probably have found to be the passage through it of a in the course of our observations met beam of light. The path of the rays from with some sad illustration of this morbid an electric lantern is clearly marked in form of conscientiousness in reference to ordinary air by the illumination of the individual character. Yet happily we may motes that float in the air; but if a flask look on such a gloomy condition of spirit of filtered or otherwise purified air is inas exceptional, and due to certain latent terposed, no such illumination takes place, tendencies of individual temperament. In and the space inside the glass vessel apthe vast majority of cases the habit of pears dark. For the same reason, a flask searching self-scrutiny is attended with filled with clear liquid transmits the light, little if any risk of nourishing this un- acting as a rough lens, while the liquid healthy anxiety, and its effect can safely inside remains dark; but a turbid liquid be regarded as exclusively beneficial. reflects the light at all possible angles, and appears brilliantly luminous in consequence. The beam of light is therefore a test, not only for solids floating in the air, but also for solids floating in liquids; and as turbidity is an invariable consequence of the establishment of putrefaction or fermentation in a liquid, the use of the test is obvious.

From The Lancet.

PROFESSOR TYNDALL ON THE AIR AND

ORGANIC LIFE.

IT was asserted long ago by Pasteur, and has since been asserted and denied So far the experiments, though interalternately by different experimenters, esting and suggestive, brought out no that in putrescible solutions, such as in- new truth. That floating particles exfusion of turnips, no organic life is de- isted in the air, that they were partly veloped, and no putrefaction takes place organic, and that they could be reas long as the solution, after boiling, is ex-moved more or less completely by filtraposed only to an atmosphere free from or- tion through cotton-wool, were facts ganic germs; in short, that life is never, known before; and the correlation of in our experience, developed from lifeless these facts with the current theories of matter. Among the opponents to this theory, the foremost has been Dr. Charlton Bastian, whose experiments convinced him that organic life is constantly developed in liquids which have been hermetically sealed in flasks while boiling. Dr. Bastian goes even further, as the following passage from one of his letters will show

"I have heated flasks, sealed in the ordinary way, and containing the fluid abovementioned [the turnip-cheese infusion], to a temperature of 105° C. for ten minutes in a chloride of calcium bath, and have found these fluids swarming with bacteria after six days."

putrefaction, fermentation, and zymotic disease was obvious. The agency of the air in these processes was doubted by few; and the idea that the solid particles of the air were the active agents in them was entertained by many. It remained to connect by direct evidence the solid particles and the zymotic changes, and to prove that when the solid particles were excluded the zymotic changes did not occur. As far as putrefaction is concerned, this direct evidence has been supplied by the experiments we are about to describe.

An air-tight wooden box was made, of which one side was glass, while each end Professor Tyndall's researches on this had a glass window through which the important subject, and the well-devised beam of light could pass. Through the and well-executed experiments which he bottom passed several test-tubes, sealed exhibited a few days ago to an audience in their holes, and with their open ends which crowded the theatre of the Royal upwards. In the top was an India-rubber Institution to the roof, are a continuation stuffing-box, through which passed a long of those on the floating particles of the at- pipette by which liquid could be dropped mosphere, which attracted so much atten- into each test-tube in turn. The inside of tion some years ago. He has found that the box was moistened with glycerine, so these particles can be completely removed that all particles that settled on it might from the air by heat, which destroys their be retained. Alterations of volume were organic matter; by filtration through cot-provided for by small tubes, plugged with ton-wool, or, less completely, through the cotton-wool at the top. So prepared, the

served with more state and magnificence | world, and all that you desire is to lie on because of your presence; that the toi- the lawn and watch the clouds and the lettes of your hostess are of greater splen- birds, caring for neither society nor movedour, and the whole arrangements of the house more stately than usual in their hospitable desire to show you becoming attention, and to fête if not to adopt you. You are unspeakably wretched in your golden chains, and you feel that you are a nuisance and a bore, put it as kindly as they will; and if, as it generally happens with this sort, your host and hostess are not too well off, you feel that you are something even worse than a nuisance and a bore, and that your presence is a tax on their resources which they cannot well afford, and ought not to incur. This kind of formality is very different from the state natural to great houses. There you are always en grande tenue certainly; but then this is the rule of the house, and it may extend only to the mere outside. Often in the most luxurious, the most magnificently appointed houses, and those where society is conducted on the highest scale, you have substantially the least formality. You have to submit to the rules of the house, which demand daily dinner "dress" and breeding; but within these not very formidable restrictions you are free and at home, and suffer less from stiffness than in the house of a formallyminded curate and his wife, who think it incumbent on them to act grand, and to play company all the time that you are with them.

Then there are the anxious host and hostess, the dear, kind, fussy people who do not trust to themselves, but think that you will be dull if they do not provide some kind of entertainment for every day in the week. You like them heartily, and you show that you do frankly; but, tormented by that want of self-reliance which is the misery of so many worthy souls, they cannot believe that you will be happy enough tête-à-tête with them, and so deluge you with a succession of uninteresting strangers for whom you have neither sympathy nor admiration, nor feel the faintest desire to know or meet again. It is a long time since you have seen your friends, and you have an interesting leeway to make up but they check all the possibilities of mutual confidence by the introduction of their friends who are not yours, and your visit ends before you have got half your budget said. Or you are weary and tired, you poor worn-out victim of work and the

ment, wanting only solitude and rest. But your kind good host drags you tramping over the country till you are half dead with fatigue, and your kind good hostess gives you the belles of the place, or their husbands and brothers the wits, to amuse you; and you find that country society fatigues you even more than does metropolitan, and that the rest for which you yearn is a heaven which mistaken kindness diligently denies you. In contrast to these are the people who treat you so much as one of themselves as to cause you to feel isolated and neglected. They make their own arrangements exactly as they would if they had no visitor at all, and expect you to say what you would like to do, as if you knew all their ways and the various ins and outs of life thereabouts like one of themselves. "You see we make no stranger of you," they say, smiling, when they assemble from their several points to the dinner of cold boiled mutton and suet pudding; while you have been left the whole afternoon to wander at your own sweet will, or not to wander at all if that suits you best. Perhaps you think that adoption into the family might have included something of initiation, and the guardianship, the tutorship of some of the members. You do not want to be made a fuss with, but as you do not know their habits, you do not like to be left entirely to yourself. You are afraid of doing what would be disagreeable, intrusive, inharmonious; yet it is "dree" work to pass your days utterly neglected and uncompanioned, no one asking you to join in any of the plans discussed, and you not liking to offer yourself uninvited. One by one the young men steal out to their various pastimes; one by one the girls disappear to their rooms up-stairs, whence you hear their voices in talk; the master has his various duties to attend to; the mistress has her house to look after; you are left alone, and the chances are that you see nothing of any one till luncheon, when they all slowly gather round the table, to dissolve again as before as soon as the meal is ended. You acknowledge the freedom and sans gêne of your host and hostess certainly, but you wince at their neglect, and the chances are that if you are a hot temper you leave in a pet, and swear that you will never pay a visit to them again.

THE Secretary of the interior, in his annual report to the president of the United States, commends in high terms the work of the Geological and Geographical Survey of the Territories, and presents the following brief summary of the results for the season of 1875: -The survey under Dr. Hayden continued its labours of the two preceding years in the territory of Colorado. The field of work during the past season was the southern and western portions of said territory, and including a belt, fifteen miles in width, of the northern border of New Mexico and the eastern border of Utah. The survey was divided into seven parties, four of which were devoted to topographical and geological labours, one to primary triangulation, one to photographic work, and one to the transportation of supplies. The survey of the southern and south-western portions of Colorado has been completed, so as to make six sheets of physical atlas, designed by this department, leaving unexplored only the north-western corner thereof, which can be surveyed by a single party during the coming year. The districts explored in the past season were not so mountainous as those of the previous years, but were quite remote from settlements, and in perhaps the most inaccessible regions of this continent. The total area surveyed is about thirty thousand square miles, portions of which were very rugged. Much of this area is drained by the Colorado River, and is mainly a plateau country cut in every direction by deep gorges or canons, the sides of which show, for geological investigations, admirable sections of the strata forming the earth's crust. The topography of the district surveyed was elaborated in detail by the aid of the plane-table. The exploration of the remarkable prehistoric ruins of southern Colorado, glimpses of which were obtained the preceding season, was continued with great success. They were traced down the canons to the Colorado River in New Mexico, Utah, and Arizona, and their connection established with the cliff cities of the Moquis of the latter territory. Hundreds of cavedwellings, of curious architecture and many miles from water, were found in the sides of the gorges, and the ruins of extensive towns discovered in the adjacent plains, indicating the former existence of a people far more nu- | merous and advanced in the arts of civilization than their supposed descendants of the present day. Of these ruins many interesting sketches, plans, and photographs were made, and a valuable collection of flint weapons, earthernware and other specimens were gathered. The materials thus obtained will enable the survey to present an exhaustive report on this interesting subject. The photographer of the survey obtained a series of mountain views on plates twenty-four inches long by twenty wide, or larger by several inches than any landscape photographs ever before taken in this country.

CHINESE FUNERAL NOTICES. On the death of a parent, it is customary in China, at any rate with persons above a certain rank in the social scale, to forward to all friends and acquaintances, however slight, a formal notification of the fact, written in mourning ink, and on mourning paper of portentous dimensions. On the present occasion this document (in which, be it observed, the family name of the parties, Shên, is omitted), ran as follows: "Be it known that the unfilial Pao-chên, who, on account of his manifold and grievous crimes, was worthy of sudden death has not died, and that, instead, the calamity has fallen upon his worthy father, upon whom the reigning emperor of the Taching (lit. great, pure) dynasty has conferred the first order of rank in the civil service, and that in the imperial body-guard, and the governorship of the province of Kiangse. In the twelfth year of the reign, styled TaoKuang, at the competition of the literati, he gained the rank of Chii jêu (that is, M.A.). The writer's father, Tan-lin, fell sick on the ninth day of this moon, and lingered in great pain until the twelfth, when he passed away. He was born about two or three in the morning of the ninth moon, of the fifty-second year of the reign styled Chien-Lung, and was therefore somewhat over eighty-four years old. Immediately he expired the family went into mourning, and now, alas! have sorrowfully to communicate with you. We have chosen the 18th, 19th, and 20th for the return presentation of this card [that is, will then receive visits of condolence]. No funeral presents can be received. The writer and his brother are kneeling with forehead in the dust, weeping tears of blood. The sons of the writer and his brother, nine in number, are kneeling with downcast faces, weeping tears of blood. The relatives and descendants, to the number of nine, are on their knees (before the coffin), beating their heads upon the ground. [From] the residence of the writer, named the Ancient Grotto of the Fairies." Chambers' Journal.

THE BEST USE.

OUT of the bud the bright rose bloweth,
And all the soul of her sweetness goeth

Abroad to the sun and wind and rain;
But ah! ah never, in any weather,
Can she fold up her leaves together,

And close herself in a bud again!
But if the sun and wind be sweeter,
And summer's beautiful dress completer
Because of the rose's graceful part,
Were it not wiser far and better
Than, bound and locked in her fair green
fetter,

To die with an untouched virgin heart?
Evening Post.

MARY ANIGE DE VERE.