shape of vapour up the chimney. If the pipe is in the centre of the casing of sheet iron, it removes all possible qualms as to the probability of risk of fire-the inspector of the Phoenix informs me that my insurance is not affected by it. Thus the ceiling does not become blackened by the smoke from imperfectly burnt gas, nor does the water stream down the windows in cold weather, destroying every metallic, mahogany, or papered article, it may fall upon; for the unconsumed gas, the carbonic acid resulting from combustion, and the air which has been respired, are got rid of by these means. Means must be taken for the admission of fresh air, without which, it must be evident no ventilation can go on; and very much depends upon the manner in which this part of the plan is carried out, as the admission of a large undivided stream of cold air could not be borne in severe weather. I have made an opening in the wall, and my waste steam-pipe from the kitchen boiler traverses a series of pipes set in the opening, all terminating in a tinned copper vessel which receives the condensed water, and thus I employ that which was a nuisance in my kitchen chimney to warm the cold fresh air as it enters the apartment, and I gain by that arrangement about five gallons of distilled water daily, which, in small establishments, would be a sufficient supply, without the expense of a still, and be considered as one among the many inducements to ventilate. A perforated zinc plate, for the air thus warmed to pass through and diffuse itself into the apartment, completes the arrangement."

Mr. Squire concludes his admirable paper with the following important facts, which are more forcibly stated than we have previously seen them. "The usual argand burner consumes about five cubic feet of gas per hours, producing rather more than five cubic feet of carbonic acid, and nearly half a pint of water.

"Shops using thirty of these lights therefore, in an evening of five hours, produce upwards of nine gallons of water, holding in solution the noxious products of the gas.

"An argand lamp, burning in a room twelve feet high and twelve feet square, containing 1728 cubic feet of air, with closed doors and windows, produces sufficient carbonic acid in rather more than three hours to exceed one per centum, which is considered unfit for respiration, and when it amounts to ten per cent. it is fatal to life.

“A man makes on an average twenty respirations per minute, and at each respiration inhales sixteen cubic inches of air; of these 320 cubic inches inhaled, thirty-two cubic inches of oxygen are consumed, and twenty-five cubic inches of carbonic acid produced.

"These are data for our consideration; and I trust will lead many to think seriously about making their knowledge practically useful. The following extract from the pamphlet of Mr. Ritchie, published this year on the ventilation and warming of factories, puts in a very clear manner the importance of pure air. He says, 'If the various convolutions of the aircells of the lungs were spread out, they would present a surface thirty times as extensive as the surface of the body; that over this extensive surface, through exceedingly minute vessels, the entire blood of the body passes every three minutes; that we respire every twenty-four hours a quantity of air that would fill upwards of seventy-eight hogsheads, and the blood passes upwards of 500 times in the course of the day through the lungs, exposed to the enormous quantity of air which we respire. * Thus in proportion as the impurities exist, the air we breathe becomes a slow or more rapid poison.""

*

SKETCHES OF ENGLISH SCENERY.-No. II.

attaches no particular interest, with the single exception of the monument and epitaph to the memory of the illustrious Lord Bacon, who, together with his mother, was interred in this fabric. His statue is placed in an arched recess, and represents him sitting in a contemplative posture, and attired in the robes and insignia of chancellor. On a tablet underneath is the following curious epitaph, supposed to have been written by Sir Henry Wootton.

FRANCISC. BACON; BARO: DE VERULAM, SANCT. ALBANI VICECO:

SEU NOTIORIBUS TITULIS

SCIENTIARUM LUMEN. FACUndie Lex,

SIC SEDEBAT:

QUI, POSTQUAM OMNIA NATURALIS SAPIENTIÆ,
ET CIVILIS ARCANA EVOLVISSET,
NATURE DECRETUM EXPLEVIT:
"COMPOSITA SOLVANTUR."
ANNO DOM. MDCXXVI.
ETAT. LXVI.*

The only remaining edifice within the town of St. Alban's which is worthy of particular notice, is the church of St. Peter's, which is also of great antiquity. Here lie the remains of many of those slain in the two bloody battles, which, in the wars of the Roses, were fought in the vicinity of this town. Over Sir Ralph Babthorpe and his son, who were killed in one of these encounters, are carved the following lines:

"This yeare one thousand and four hundred fifty-five,
Grimme Death, yet not alone, did them of life deprive;
The last day of their light was the twentieth-two of May,
God grant them light in heaven and withoutt ende a day."

On exploring the environs of St. Alban's, the ruins of the old nunnery of Sopwell attract our attention. They are situated in the midst of fruitful orchards, which were once the gardens of the nunnery. All that remains

of the building is merely huge fragments of the old walls, composed of flint or brick, and a small and ruinous chapel in the gardens.

Another object of great interest to the tourist is Gorhambury Hall, the splendid mansion of Lord Grimstone, situated a few miles from St. Alban's, in a well-wooded and picturesque country. This building, however, is of modern erection, and although, both within and without, its aspect is extremely magnificent, yet it is far inferior in interesting reminiscences to the old hall, which lies embosomed in trees at a short distance from the new structure. This venerable manor-house was the country seat of Lord Bacon, and he is believed, in this sequestered retreat, to have composed the splendid treatises destined to be the instruction and delight both of his own and of succeeding ages. At the time he inhabited this mansion, it appears to have been a favourite residence of Queen Elizabeth, as we find many of her letters dated from Gorhambury; and here, doubtless, she was entertained by her Lord Keeper of the Seals with the pageantry and splendour in which, although so strong-minded a woman, she appears to have taken so much delight. The gardens were then adorned with rare plants and

* It may be thus rendered :-Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam and Viscount St. Albans, better known as The Light of the Sciences, and the Law of Learning, used thus to sit. He, after he had unravelled the secrets of natural and human wisdom, fulfilled the decree of nature, "Let compounds be dissolved," A.D. 1626, aged 66.

shrubs, statues, and curious arbours, some of which last are mentioned by contemporaries as "works most admirable to behold." The state-rooms, which were of noble dimensions, and the whole interior of the building, was fancifully painted and decorated with gilding, in the gorgeous style of the age. After Bacon's death, however, the old manor-house passed into other hands, and was much neglected. It is now in a dilapidated state; all that remains is a high octagonal tower, now too ruinous to be ascended, and the crumbling walls of some of the state apartments.

A melancholy feeling comes over the mind, as we look upon the mouldering remnants of an edifice once so splendid, but now in such a state of decay; once tenanted by the great and gay of this earth, but now seldom disturbed by the footstep of man. They, who were once the lords of this domain, whose pride it was to preserve its glories intact, and who would have grieved, had they seen the ruin which has at length overtaken it,

are

"Where life's long journey turns to sleep,

And never pilgrim wakes to weep."

But, although the dwelling-place of Bacon is tottering to its fall, and the quiet alleys and arbours in which he once delighted, lie desolate, yet it is a consolation to reflect, that his renown is immortal, and that his name and writings will be revered and illustrious, when his marble monument itself shall have failed beneath the fingers of Time.

SCIENCE CONSIDERED IN ITS INFLUENCE ON RELIGION.

ANCILLATUR RELIGIONI PHILOSOPHIA.

THIS is plainly not an age in which the pretensions of Science are to be contemned; at least, its claims may not be slighted with impunity. The most superficial observer of the present state and tendencies of society cannot fail to perceive how earnestly, effectively, and universally this mighty agency is at work, in purifying the tastes-re-modelling the habits-and promoting the physical comforts and mental culture of our race; and in a less, though still far from unimportant degree, elevating its moral character, and furthering its consequent happiness and peace. In addition to which the careful student of history will discover much that is calculated to excite his wonder and admiration in what has been already accomplished; and he will, perhaps, be curious to trace the individual steps by which mankind have advanced from the several starting-posts of barbarism to their present stage of comparative civilization and refinement. Nor will the philosophic mind rest satisfied with this, but rather love to contemplate the probable effects that existing influences will continue to produce on the future condition and progress of humanity, and to realize in idea the fond anticipations of philanthropic spirits, in relation to benefits that may hereafter result from the general application to human conduct of principles hitherto but imperfectly received, in developing the yet untried capabilities of the human constitution, and general scheme of which it is the head.

Such considerations would be, indeed, under any circumstances, suited to awaken, in a well-constituted mind, sentiments of mingled seriousness and joy-" of hope, and fears that kindle hope”—but at this day are rendered peculiarly impressive by the important bearing and significant aspect of human affairs. Whoever will consider, with but a moderate degree of attention, the present state of parties and interests-or even turn his eyes for a moment to the operations and prospects of any great "cause" of modern times will see at once that there is a new spirit of activity—a general force of antagonism, diffusing itself through every part of the social machine. In theology it is the antagonism of rationalism on the one hand, and dogmatism, either scriptural, or traditional, on the other: in philosophy, of transcendentalism on the one side, and scientific induction on the other; while in politics we see a constant struggle maintained between the conflicting powers of liberalism and legitimacy; and even in poetry a general opposition between the florid freedoms of the romantic, and the chaste severities of the classic style. Of all these embattled powers, that of Christianity is undoubtedly supreme, as the interests of truth are ever paramount and unchangeable; and to Christianity alone must Science succumb, as the learning of man is inferior only to the teaching of God. To these two all the others seem destined eventually to become subordinate. Upon the extension or decline of these hang the future destinies of our world. Hence the investigation of their general and particular tendencies becomes an important branch of study, in which it would not be uninteresting to enquire into the manner and degree in which they may reciprocally affect each other's interests and advancement.

Dogmatism-dogmatic. The reader will please to observe that these words are here employed in the confined, critical sense, as contradistinguished from induction and inductive.