TREATMENT OF LUNATICS.

Ir may be gratifying, as an appendix to a former paper, to observe that the great modern secret of management in insanity is gentle and kind treatment, occupation, and amusement, and last, though not least, religious and moral instruction for all who are able to bear it. If the boasted advance of our age in knowledge had stopped short of the poor lunatic, who was least able to take care of himself, we should have less ground for mutual congratulation; but thanks to the Christian benevolence of the wealthy and the influential, the sorrowful sighing of the most pitiable of "prisoners" has at length come before us, and much has been done by the scientific and the pious, to inCrease his comfort and to hasten his cure.

1st. As to mild treatment.-The mind, whether in a sound or unsound state, naturally revolts at oppression and injustice; and the reason as well as experience of mankind should have taught them earlier, that all constraint or correction beyond what is clearly necessary, should be studiously avoided in the treatment of lunatics. Kind and cheering language, a compliance with pardonable oddities, an endurance of provoking language, the suggestion of hope, whether of amendment or discharge, an attention to little wants and even weaknesses, and an affectionate sympathy with the character and case of each individual, are charms too potent to be resisted. Hence, a really good temper is indispensable in superintendents and servants of the insane, and the control of their own passions becomes the first of duties; when patients see, however imperfectly, that real kindness alone dictates the necessary discipline, and feel that some interest is taken in their comfort, one half of the work is done.

2dly. Occupation and Amusement—are of great importance, though their value has only been properly understood of late. Out of confinement, as well as in it, idleness is the greatest evil of our nature; it makes the man who is at liberty his own tormentor; while employment will sweeten the dreariest hour of solitude in a prison, and greatly increases the pleasure of society under confinement. It was once the declaration of a poor convict who was long shut up in a dungeon, that he was for months supplied with the means of fixing his attention and engaging his thoughts by watching the movements of a spider, the only tenant of his cell. We now find the females in every well conducted Lunatic Asylum, working, knitting, getting up the linen, mending, and reading suitable books; while the men are also engaged with books, garden work, tennis-ball, pumping water, battledoor and shuttlecock, or other healthful and harmless occupations. The bodily exercise so necessary to the health is thus provided for by promoting proper circulation, and assisting due secretion; while the mind is no longer suffered to prey upon itself for want of some external object; in this way, both present comfort and future cure are found to be eminently promoted.

3dly. As to Religious Instruction. The experience of all the asylums which have tried it, is, that under the exercise of a wise discretion in the selection of cases, and of prudent caution in their management, religion and morals are actual helps in the cure of insanity, as well as no small alleviations where a cure cannot be effected. This is not an experiment of yesterday, for the judicious religious instruction of those who are recovering has been in use for a great number of years at Bethlem-hospital, under two successive chaplains; nor did that hospital adopt the plan till such accumulated evidence poured in from all England and

The same sys

Scotland as could not be resisted.* tem is pursued at Hanwell, and indeed spectators have often observed that the behaviour of the insane during public worship is such as need not fear a comparison with that of the most sane congregation wherever assembled.

The writer of this paper has known cases in which the highest possible comfort has been administered by the chaplain, both in health and sickness, to the poor patient, whose gratitude has been expressed down to the latest opportunity. Indeed, when we consider how frequently it happens that much wandering will appear on a given subject, while on all others the mind will preserve its tone, it would neither be philosophic nor Christian to withhold a remedy of God's own providing, in those cases where no particular reason for doing so is to be found.

If space would allow, it could be easily shown that so far from the common notion being true, that Reli gion makes men mad, the want of Religion has often been a main source of madness. Whatever excites the passions strongly is not only injurious to the exercise of reason, but often suspends its operation and produces its overthrow. Some, under the influence of liquor, are in a state of temporary madness, and the friends of patients constantly assign drinking as the main, or the only cause of the malady.

In conclusion, let all be grateful that the treatment of a malady which has not spared the sceptred monarch, and may be permitted, in the righteous providence of God, to visit any of us, is now better understood than ever; and let all who are yet blessed with the unspeakable mercy of a sound understanding, be anxious above all things to "walk with God" in the constant use of that Divine Revelation which he has been pleased to make of himself, and in humble prayer for the influence of his Holy Spirit that they may be enabled to receive its doctrines, and obey its precepts; and let all who call themselves Christians remember, that in proof of the Almighty having inseparably connected sin with suffering, and holiness with happiness, an illustrious layman has said that "whatever disunites man from God, separates man from man." If then, all suffering and sorrow be a consequence of the Fall, who can doubt that madness is so? and where then, in addition to human means, may we more properly look for aid than to Him who in the days of his flesh, especially remembered outcasts, and now declares that "whosoever will, may come." The power of using that will, and the success which may attend its exercise, cannot be defined or limited by man, and can only be fully known by Him "who knoweth all things." P.

The last return at Bethlem gave a proportion of seventy twenty then in the house. seven under religious instruction, out of two hundred and

NOCTURNAL FIGHT WITH A LION.-A number of lions are met with among the hills of California, and they are said to be very ferocious. A former commandant of Mexico, in the year 1821, was travelling near the Gulf of Molexe, and finding it impossible, from the lateness of the hour, to reach Loreto before the morning, he resolved upon sleeping in one of the valleys near the shore. His two sons, youths of sixteen and eighteen years of age, accompanied him. The father, being apprehensive of lions, which he knew to be plentiful among the mountains, slept with a son on either side of him, charitably supposing that, if one of these animals should approach the party during the night, he would certainly attack the person sleeping on the outside. About midnight, a wandering lion found out the retreat of the party, and, without his approach being perceived, he leaped upon the father, in whose body he inserted his teeth and claws, and with his mane and tail erect, proceeded forthwith to devour him. The two boys, moved by the cries and sufferings of their parent, grappled the lion manfully, who, finding his prize contested, became furious: the combat was most bloody. After being dreadfully lacerated, the two brave youths succeeded, with a simple knife, in killing their ferocious enemy, but, unhappily for them, not soon enough to save their father; and the afflicted boys were left to lament his death and their own severe wounds. They both, with difficulty, survived; and are, I understand, still living in California, although dreadful objects, the features of one of them being nearly obliterated.-HARDY's Travels in Mexico.

THE SWALLOWS.

YE gentle birds, that perch aloof,
And smooth your pinions on my roof,
Preparing for departure hence,
Ere Winter's angry threats commence;
Like you, my soul would smooth her plume
For longer flights beyond the tomb.
May God, by whom is seen and heard
Departing man and wand ring bird,
In mercy mark me for His own,
And guide me to the land unknow!-HAYLEY.

SALT.

:

THE varieties of this useful mineral are distinguished by the different situations in which they are found thus we have Sea-salt, Rock-salt, Lake-salt, and Fountain-salt; all possessing exactly the same properties, and containing the same component parts. To those who are unacquainted with the effect of chemical combinations, it will appear strange that a substance of such an agreeable flavour as salt should be composed of the most unpalatable materials; but this is really the case; for salt is formed by the union of soda with marine acid, either of which, taken separately, is highly disagreeable.

When salt is suffered to crystallize regularly, it takes the form of a cube, and, when broken, splits into thin plates. It is one of the most abundant substances in nature, being distributed with a profusion in proportion to our wants, and found in some state or other in every country of the world. The sea is the most abundant source of this mineral, since it has been ascertained that one-thirtieth part of all the great waters of the ocean is formed of salt. The quantity of salt, however, which the sea contains, is not the same in all climates. The proportion appears to increase from the poles in a regular progression, and to be greatest in quantity near the Equator. The North Seas contain a sixty-fourth, those of Germany about a thirtieth, the Spanish Main a sixteenth, and the ocean, within the Equator, from a twelfth to an eighth part.

In very hot countries, where the earth is dry and sandy, it is not uncommon to find the surface covered with a crust of salt. This circumstance is mentioned by several travellers. In Persia very extensive plains are said to be covered with a sort of fleecy salt. In

Arabia the plains are seldom without salt; and in Africa this substance is so abundantly spread on the ground, that we may presume the dry and hot soil has some share in its formation.

"We

In many parts of the world we meet with lakes of salt water, whose bottoms are encrusted with layers of salt. Mr. Barrow, in particular, notices these salt lakes. He met with them to the east of the Cape of Good Hope, on the frontiers of the Caffre country, and has given the following account of thein. encamped on the verdant bank of a beautiful lake, in the midst of a wood of fruit-bearing plants. It was of an oval form, about three miles in circumference. On the western side was a shelving bank of green turf, and round the other parts of the basin the ground, rising more abruptly, and to a greater height, was covered thickly with the same kind of plants as had been observed to grow most commonly in the thickets of the adjoining country. The water was perfectly clear, but salt as brine. It was one of those salt-water lakes, which abound in Southern Africa, where they are called zout-pans by the colonists. The one in question, it seems, is the most famous in the colony, and is resorted to by the inhabitants from very distant parts, for the purpose of procuring salt for their own consumption, or for sale. It is situated on a plain of considerable elevation above the level of the sea. The greatest part of the bottom of the lake was covered with one continued body of salt like a sheet of ice, the crystals of which were so united that it formed a solid mass as hard as rock. The margin, or shore, of the basin, was like the sandy beach of the sea-coast, with sand-stone and quartz pebbles thirly scattered over it, some red, some purple, and others gray. Beyond the narrow belt of sand round the margin, the sheet of salt commenced with a thin porous crust, increasing in thickness and solidity as it advanced towards the middle of the lake. The salt that is taken out for use is generally broken up with pick-axes, where it is about four or five inches thick, which is at no great distance from the margin of the lake. The thickness in the middle is not known, a quantity of water generally remaining in that part. The dry south-easterly winds of summer agitating the water of the lake, produce on the margin a fine light powdery salt, like flakes of snow. This is equally beautiful as the refined salt of England, and is much sought after by the women, who always commission their husbands to bring home a quantity of snowy salt for the table.

"I caused a hole four feet in depth to be dug in the sand, close to the edge of the water. The two firs feet were through sand, like that of the sea-shore, in which were mingled small shining crystals of salt. The third foot was considerably harder and more compact, and came up in flakes that required some degree of force to break; and the last foot was so solid that the spade would scarcely pierce it; and one-fifth part of the mass, at least, was pure salt in crystals. The water now gushed in perfectly clear, and as salt as brine."

Salt springs are very numerous, and occur in most parts of the world. Those of our own country, situated at Northwich, are well known for the great quantity of salt which is annually obtained from them. The springs are from twenty to forty yards below the surface of the earth, and the water is raised by a steam-engine, and conveyed through long troughs to the brine-pits, where it is evaporated in large iron pans till the salt crystallizes. An immense quantity is collected in this way, no less than 45,000 tons being annually manufactured in the town of Northwich.

The only mines of rock-salt in England are those ncar Northwich in Chester, discovered about a mile from the town, in the year 1670. The beds of salt in these mines are found from 80 to 140 feet below the surface of the earth. They vary in thickness, and lie in a waved direction. The first stratum, or bed, is from fifteen to twenty-one yards in thickness, in appearance resembling brown sugar-candy, perfectly solid, and so hard as to be broken with great difficulty by iron picks and wedges. This part of the business, however, has lately been much accelerated by gunpowder, with which the workmen loosen and remove many tons together. Beneath this stratum is a bed of hard-stone, consisting of large veins of flag, intermingled with some rock-salt, the whole from twenty-five to thirty-five yards in thickness. Under this bed is a second stratum, or mine, of salt, from five to six yards thick, many parts of it perfectly white, and clear as crystal; others brown; but all less impure than the upper stratum. The whole mass of salt is covered by a bed of whitish clay, used in the manufacture of Liverpool ware.

Rock-salt pits are sunk at a great expense, and are very uncertain in their duration; being frequently destroyed by the brine springs bursting into them, and dissolving the pillars that support the roof; through which the whole work falls in, leaving vast chasms in the surface of the earth. In forming a pit, a shaft, or eye, is sunk, similar to that of a coal pit, but more extensive. When the workmen have penetrated to the salt rock, and made a proper cavity, they leave a sufficient substance of the rock (generally about seven yards in thickness) to form a solid roof; and, as they proceed, they hew pillars out of the rock to sustain the roof, and then employ gunpowder to separate what they intend to raise. This is conveyed to the surface in large craggy lumps, drawn up in capacious baskets. The largest rock-salt pit now worked is in the township of Wilton, near Northwich. This has been excavated in a circular form, 108 yards in diameter; its roof is supported by twenty-five pillars, each three yards wide at the front, four at the back, and its sides extending six yards. Each pillar contains 294 solid yards of rock-salt; and the whole area of the pit, which is fourteen yards hollow, includes 9160 superficial yards, being little less than two acres of land. We may casily conceive that

when this wonderful place is well lighted up, the reflection of the torches from so many brilliant surfaces must have a very surprising effect.

[Abridged from WooD's Zoography.]

THE HAPPY MAN.

By SIR HENRY WOOTON, Provost of Eton, who died 1639, aged 72
How happy is he born or taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill:
Whose passions not his masters are:
Whose soul is still prepared for death;
Not ty'd unto the world with care

Of princes' ear, or vulgar breath:
Who hath his life from rumours freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

Nor ruin make oppressors great:
Who envies none whom chance doth raise,
Or vice: who never understood
How deepest wounds are given with praise,
Nor rules of state, but rules of good ·
Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertains the harmless day

With a well-chosen book, or friend.
This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet hath all.

THE Peak of Derbyshire, in which this stupendous cavern is situated, gives name to a large tract of hilly country in the county of Derby, between the Derwent and the Dove, and is separated from Staffordshire by the last named river. This district is a region of bleak barren heights and long-extended moors, interspersed with deep valleys through which many small streams take their course. The High Peak is peculiarly liable to violent storms, during which the rain descends in torrents, and frequently occasions great damage. The country abounds in mines of lead, iron, coal and antimony.

On the summit of an almost inaccessible rock is seated the little town of Castleton, so called from a very ancient castle, the ruins of which remain. From some of the ornaments still remaining in one of the walls, it is supposed to have been a Norman structure, and is said to have been built by William Peveril, the natural son of William the Conqueror. Its historical interest has been revived by Sir Walter Scott, in his novel of Peveril of the Peak; but it was not, as might be inferred from that work, in the possession of the family of the Peverils, at so late a period as the Restoration. At the base of the huge rock on which stands this curious remnant of antiquity, is the mouth of the celebrated Peak Cavern, commonly called the Devil's Hole.

The entrance is situated in a gloomy recess, between two ranges of perpendicular rocks, having on the left, a rivulet, which issues from the cave, and pursues its foaming course over broken masses of limestone. A vast canopy of rock overhangs the mouth of this stupendous cavity, forming a low arch, 120 feet in width and 42 in height.

VOL. I.

20

opening called the Bell House, he is again enabled to stand upright, and proceed without inconvenience to the brink of a piece of water, where a small boat is ready to convey him to the interior of the cavern; to reach which, he has to pass beneath a massy rock, which stoops to within twenty inches of the water. To perform this uncomfortable part of his journey, he has to extend himself on his back in the boat, with the dripping rock within a few inches of his face.

On landing on the opposite side, he finds himself in the second apartment, a spacious chamber, about 220 feet long, 200 broad, and in some parts 120 feet high; but, from the want of light, neither the roof nor the distant sides of this vast cave can be plainly discerned.

Near the ending of a shallow stream, called the Second Water, is a jutting pile of rocks, called Roger Rain's House, from the circumstance of water continually dripping from the crevices of the roof.After passing along a narrow passage, with occasionally more spacious openings, he arrives at another large apartment, called the Chancel, where the rocks appear much broken, and the sides are curiously covered with stalactites*. Here the stranger is generally surprised by an invisible concert, which bursts in discordant tones from the upper regions of the chasm; yet," says a respectable tourist, "being unexpected, and issuing from a quarter where no object can be seen, in a place where all is still as death, and calculated to impress the imagination with solemn ideas, it can seldom be heard without that mingled emotion of awe and pleasure, astonishment and delight, which is one of the most interesting feelings of the mind." At the conclusion of the strain, the choristers (consisting of eight or ten women and children) are seen ranged in a hollow of the rock, about fifty feet above the floor, with lighted torches in their hands.

After passing the Cellar, as it is called, and the Halfway House, neither of which is particularly deserving of attention, the visiter proceeds beneath three natural arches to a vast concavity, which, from its resemblance to a bell, is called the Great Tom of Lincoln. From this point, the vault gradually descends, the cavity contracts, and at length leaves no more room than is sufficient for the passage of the stream, which continues to flow through a channel under ground. The entire length of this wonderful cavern is 2250 feet, and its depth from the surface of the mountain about 620.

A curious effect is produced by the explosion of a small quantity of gunpowder, wedged into the rock in the interior of this cave; for the sound appears to roll along the roof and sides, like a tremendous and continued peal of thunder.

The effect of the light, on returning from these dark recesses, is particularly impressive; and the gradual illumination of the rocks with dim, golden, or rather sulphureous, haze, which becomes brighter as the entrance is approached, is said to exhibit one of the most interesting scenes that ever employed the pencil of an artist, or fixed the admiration of a spectator.

The water of many springs contains an acid, called carbonic acid, in sufficient quantity to dissolve a part of the chalk and limestone over which it passes. Thus charged, the water, after passing through the pores of the rock, deposites the chalk in many curious forms, like icicles; these are called stalactites. Water of this description possesses a petrifying property, and objects steeped in it are said to become petrified, that is, converted into stone; though, in reality, they are only encrusted with the chalk which the water contains.

THE CRUELTY OF SHOOTING SWALLOWS. WHEN I see boys or grown-up men amusing themselves on a summer's evening with shooting swallows, I am willing to believe that they do not think of the misery which they are causing. To kill a swallow flying may be a very difficult thing; and shooting of

this kind may be thought very good practice: but God Almighty did not make swallows that they might be put to death for amusement or for practice. Some birds do a great deal of harm to our fields and gardens; and to destroy them seems to be a matter of self-defence: but the poor swallow does us no harm at all: there is reason to think that he is sent to do us good. When he is darting through the air, and wheeling round and round so swiftly that the eye can hardly follow him, he is catching flies, which are intended to be his food. Many thousands and millions of flies are destroyed in this way: and if they were all suffered to live, they would in time cover the earth; and we should be as badly off as the Egyptians, when God sent upon them the plague of flies and other insects. We ought to feel much obliged to the swallows for lessening the number of these troublesome guests.

We should also remember, that the swallows come to England to build their nests. They set about this very soon after their arrival; and when their young ones are strong enough to fly, they all leave the country. It is hardly possible, therefore, to kill a swallow, without robbing some little birds of a father or a mother. The female swallow leaves her nest on a summer's evening, and fills her beak with flies.But she does not catch them only for herself: she has some young children at home, and she is thinking of them all the time that she is gliding through the air after her prey. When she is returning to her nest with her mouth full of food, she is suddenly struck with a shot, and down she drops to the ground, bleeding and dead. Her little ones go without their supper for that night; they pass all the time in a sad and piteous chirping; and their father does not know how to quiet them, when he finds himself in the nest without his partner. After a sleepless night, he sets out to catch some flies; but he does not know how to feed them as their mother did; and before the evening is over, he too is shot dead by some person who. is practising the art of shooting flying. The young ones now begin to suffer seriously from hunger: they open their little beaks, but no mother comes to put any thing into them. They see the old birds go backwards and forwards to another nest which is close by, but their own turn never comes. At night they get very cold. Their mother used to cover them with her wings, and with the soft feathers of her breast; but now they have nothing to warm them. In the morning, two or three of them are dead. The chirping becomes fainter and fainter: no little heads are seen stretching out and asking for food: they shake and quiver against each other at the bottom of the nest; and after a few hours they all die of hunger. E. B.

THE BOOK OF PSALMS. WHAT is there necessary for man to know, which the Psalms are not able to teach? They are, to beginners, an easy and familiar introduction, a mighty augmentation of all virtue and knowledge; in such as are entered before, a strong confirmation to the most perfect amongst others. Heroical magnanimity, exquisite justice, grave moderation, exact wisdom, repentance unfeigned, unwearied patience, the mysteries of God, the sufferings of Christ, the terrors of wrath, the comforts of grace, the works of Providence over this world, and the promised joys of that world which is to come, all good necessarily to be either known, or done, or had, this one celestial fountain yieldeth. Let there be any grief or disease incident to the soul of man, any wound or sickness named, for which there is not in this treasure house a present comfortable remedy at all times ready to be found?-HOOKER.