time to speak out on this point, as the most absurd notions seem to prevail. Again, it is not true that special forms of food determine fat. That is an old and exploded notion. Some organisms will make fat let them be fed on the leanest and scantiest and least saccharine descriptions of food, while others will not be "fattened" let them feed on the most "fattening" of diets. The matter is one in regard to which it is supremely desirable and politic to be natural, adapting the food taken to the requirements of health rather than substance. Simple food, sufficient exercise, and regular habits, with moderation in the use of stimulants, compose the maxim of a safe and healthy way of life.-Lancet.

TEETH IN CIVILIZED AND SAVAGE MAN.-It is frequently said that uncivilized people have an advantage over the civilized in their exemption from unsoundness of teeth. Among the civilized the wisdom-teeth" are very apt to become impaired, and these, with other defects, are looked on as results of civilization. But Professor Flower, of the Royal College of Surgeons, in a discourse to the Odontological Society on abnormal dentition, accompanied by examples from all parts of the world, showed that 'defective condition of the wisdomteeth is no monopoly of the most highly civilized races, but may also be found among the most abject and degraded of the whole human species." In the Esquimaux and other Mongol races the instances of entire absence of wisdom-teeth are numerous.

FORMATION OF MOUNTAINS.-M. de Lapparent has an excellent article on this subject in the Revue des Questions Scientifiques for July last. He points out that the changes of position, the elevation, and especially the folding of strata observed in mountainous districts are due to energetic lateral compression. Elie de Beaumont taught that mountain-chains do not occupy the centres of continents and show symmetrical slopes on both sides, but that they are to be found near the sea, and have a precipitous slope on the side facing the sea, while the opposite side slopes gently away, forming the mass of the continent, and usually terminates in the opposite ocean by a line of low country. This view has been formulated as a law by several geologists, especially in America, where the long line of the Rocky Mountains and the Andes furnish such a striking example in its support; and Professor Dana has added the following rider to it, that when two chains of elevations form the two shores of a continent, the one facing the largest ocean is the higher one. M. de Lapparent indicates that in order to apply those principles to the Old World mountains, and especially to those of Europe, it is necessary to force the facts a

little, and hence he is led to the belief that while it is perfectly true that chains of mountains are always formed in the vicinity of the ocean, it is necessary, in order to understand their distribution, to consider the geographical conditions that prevailed at the period of their formation. He sums up his views in the following formula: "At the epoch when a chain of elevations has just attained its principal relief, it consists of two slopes of very unequal inclination, one of which, gently inclined, is connected with the continent, while the other, which is abrupt, directly faces the sea." Thus the Pyrenees, which are shown by geological evidence to have been elevated after the forma. tion of the Nummulitic and before that of the Miocene deposits, were united by a gradual slope toward the South with the Spanish continent, while the foot of the precipitous north. ern face was washed by the Miocene sea. The Alps date from the interval between Miocene and Pliocene times. To the north they joined on by a gentle slope to the plains of northern Germany, while toward Lombardy they form. ed a vertical wall, at the foot of which were de. posited the sediments of the Sub-apennine sea. M. de Lapparent refers to other European chains, and then formulates the following general law: "A chain of mountains, at the moment of its formation, always occupies a littoral situation; it does not depart from this afterward, except when the continent is enlarged by new additions obeying the same law. If, therefore, at the present day, the Scandinavian Mountains on the one hand and the Cordillera of the Andes on the other emerge directly from the depths of the ocean, this is because these two chains belong to the most recent formations which have been produced on the globe; and geology, as is well known, fully justifies this conclusion."

From the consideration of the soundings which have been so rapidly accumulated of late years, M. de Lapparent arrives at the conclusion that the great depths of the sea, as a general rule, are the counterparts of the great elevations of the land, and lie directly at their base, and hence he concludes that "at the moment when the profile of one of the lines of relief of the earth's surface becomes strongly marked, this profile includes an abrupt central line, joining at its extremities with two gentlyinclined lines; of the two angles thus formed that which has its apex outward constitutes the crest of a mountain-relief, while the other forms the ridge of a marine depression. In this way, at the moment when a great shoreline is constituted it is marked on the one hand by a projecting chain, the origin of a continent, and on the other by a deep fosse in which the sea collects; the projecting chain, moreover, may only emerge in part." These correlated

M. de

elevations and depressions are considered by M. de Lapparent to be due to foldings in the comparatively thin crust of the earth caused by the contraction of its fluid nucleus. Lapparent's article contains many remarks of interest to geologists upon various matters more or less connected with, or explained by, his view of the origin of mountains, and it will well repay careful perusal. He summarizes his results as follows: "All the inequalities of the surface of the globe have a single cause which is incessantly in action, although it must probably manifest itself only at intervals, namely, the contraction of the fluid nucleus in losing its heat, whence proceeds, for the solid envelope, the necessity of adapting itself continually to the new form imposed upon it by the conditions of its equilibrium. It is thus that, since the earliest ages of the globe, the continents have been formed by successive additions, which gradually rendered their contour more and more complicated. The surface of the sea has constantly diminished in extent, but at the same time its depth has constantly increased with the elevation of the continents. Hence have arisen those diverse physical conditions in which the natural effects of latitude are complicated by a thousand modifications due to the nature of the soil, to altitude, to exposure, to vicinity to, or distance from, the sea. Thus all those external conditions, the variety of which gives so great a charm to our globe, at the same time that it is the most powerful of stimulants to human activity, are contained in their germ in the law that we have laid down."

VARIETIES.

EDGAR A. POE.-In an article on Baudelaire in his "French Poets and Novelists" Mr. Henry James, Jr., says: 'For American readers Baudelaire is compromised by his having made himself the apostle of our Edgar Poe. He translated very carefully and exactly all of Poe's writings, and, we believe, some of his very valueless verses. With all due respect to the very original genius of the author of the 'Tales of Mystery,' it seems to us that to take him with more than a certain degree of seriousness is to lack seriousness one's self. An enthusiasm for Poe is the mark of a decidedly Baudelaire primitive stage of reflection.

thought him a profound philosopher, the negfect of whose golden utterances stamped his native land with infamy. Nevertheless, Poe was vastly the greater charlatan of the two, as well as the greater genius."

The London Athenæum quotes this passage, and comments upon it as follows: "This is fearless and outspoken. There is, however,

some, little uncertainty about the meaning of the words we have italicized. If it is meant that some, and indeed a good deal, of Poe's verses are valueless, we agree with Mr. James entirely; but if he means to characterize as valueless the body of Poe's poetry, we as decidedly dissent from the criticism. In Poe, no doubt, there was a marvellous and altogether unique concentration of intellectual forces, which often did the work of genius. In other words, most of his poetry is but the poetry of ingenuity-poetry of ingenuity at its very highest point, perhaps, but still the poetry of ingenuity merely. For it is a mistake to suppose that worldly verse is absolutely the only legitimate form of the poetry of ingenuity. Hood's 'Bridge of Sighs' is a notable example of this, but a more notable one still is Poe's Ullalume.' Every art has its special function: it has a certain special work which it can do better than can any one of its sister arts. For instance, before the surging sea of emotion within the soul has become curdled into thoughts,' it can be expressed in inarticulate tone-that is to say, music is the art for rendering it. It was a perception of this fact which made the Buddhists define life to be 'moving music.' When this sea of emotion has curdled into thoughts,' rhythmical language words steeped in music, subtly stained with color, but at the same time incarnating ideas-does what no mere wordless music can do in giving it expression; just as unrhythmical language-language mortised in a hard foundation of logic-that is to say, prose-can best express these ideas when they have cool. ed, and settled, and cleared themselves of emotion altogether. Yet every art can in some degree invade the domain of her next sister. Prose, for instance, can sometimes do the work of poetry, but always imperfectly, and under heavy conditions; and sometimes poetry can do the work of music, but it must be in the hands of a superlative master of his art. And now to come to Ullalume': it is the greatest tour de force in English literature, perhaps the greatest in its line in any literature. Poe's object was to express dull and hopeless gloom in the same way that the mere musician would have expressed it, by mo. notonous reiterations, by hollow and dreadful reverberations of gloomy sounds—superadding gloomy ideas, merely to give that mental coherence which was necessary for its existence as a poem. He evidently set out to do this, and he did it; and Ullalume' would produce the same effect upon a Patagonian knowing no word of English that it produces upon us. This is a miracle of art more wonderful than the Raven' for there the literary mechanic is too much seen-the bones of the poem prick through the flesh. The poem

lives, but the warmth is that of Frankenstein rather than of any true Promethean fire. In this sense, therefore, it is impossible to help agreeing with Mr. James, if he means that, of the vision of the maker' there is much-of the wise vision which, looking before and after, enables the artist to grasp the eternal laws of cause and effect in art, and bend them to his wizard will. But of the vision of the creator-the deep vision of Vishnù, who yearned to create a world-of actual frenzy -of that most high divinity who seizes for the time the soul and guides it as he will 'there is, perhaps, not much to be found in Poe, even at his best."

For we reckon

as Moderns" all who have written or shall write since the birth of Dante, and as "Ancients' all who wrote before the death of Pluarch. Even in the present century great bards" have died whose writings alone might almost weigh against the sum of the productions of the Latin Muse. And since the days of Boyle and Bentley the ranks of modern his torians have been strengthened by such stalwart soldiers, to name no others, as Gibbon, Prescott, and Mommsen. It may be long, indeed, before Plato and Aristotle are thrust from the pride of place which they still unquestionably hold, except in the opinions of those who never read them. There is, however, one department of literature where the "Ancients" seem likely to retain their supremacy, and whence, in Henry Coleridge's noble words, "we may even now hear them challenging posterity in charmed accents, and daunting our rivalry with armor of celestial temper." That department is oratory. The results of printing and a host of other agencies are at work, which make it more and more improbable that the marvels of ancient oratory will ever be repeated. Great speeches-speeches of surpassing energy and eloquence-we may look for, and not in vain. That in a Burke, a Mirabeau, a Bright, or a Gladstone, there lay, to use a homely word, the makings of a Demosthenes or a Cicero, is undeniable; but it is hardly conceivable that an occasion should arise which will produce a speech that deserves to be named in the same day with the immortal De Corona. Thoughts that breathe and words that burn may flow in torrents from the lips of

those born orators of whom no age is so poor that it cannot boast one specimen. But we must resign ourselves to look in vain for the marvellous harmonies, the exquisite finish, and the consummate polish which mark the best efforts of Greek and Roman oratory.-The Spectator.

MEMORY IN DIFFERENT RACES AND PEOPLE.-M. Delaunay has made a communication studied under various biological conditions. to the Société de Biologie respecting memory as

The inferior races of mankind, such as negroes, the Chinese, etc., have more memory than those of a higher type of civilization. Primitive races which were unacquainted with the art of writing had a wonderful memory, and were for ages in the habit of handing down from one generation to another hymns as voluminous as the Bible. Prompters and professors of declamation know that women have more memory than men. French women will learn a foreign language quicker than their husbands. Youths have more memory than adults. It is well developed in children, attains its maximum about the fourteenth or fifteenth year, and then decreases. Feeble individuals of a lymphatic temperament have more memory than the strong. Students who obtain the prize for memory and recitation chiefly belong to the former class. Parisian students have also less memory than those who come from the provinces. At the École Normale and other schools the pupils who have the best memory are not the most intelligent. The memory is more developed among the peasantry than among citizens, and among the clergy than among the laity. The memory remains intact in diseases of the left side of the brain, and is much affected in those of the right, from which it may be inferred that the right side is more the seat of this faculty than the left. From a physiological point of view memory is diminished by over-feeding, by physical exercise, and by education, in this sense, that the illiterate have potentially more memory than those who know how to read and write. We remember, moreover, better in the morning than in the evening, in the summer than in the winter, and better in warm than in cold climates. Memory is therefore, to a certain extent, in inverse proportion to nutrition, and, more than that, it is in inverse proportion to evolution, since it is greatest in those individuals who are the least advanced from an evolutionary point of view-inferior races, women, children, the feeble, etc. In short, according to M. Delaunay, there is an evolution of the memory, which is first sensorial, literal, and then intelligent; but memory, properly speaking, diminishes inversely as the evolu tion.-Medical Press and Circular,