There are two brains-the cerebellum, or smaller, occupying the inferior back, and the cerebrum, the front and greater portions of the skull, while in front the former the elongations of the spinal column develops into several portions, one called the medulla oblongata, which exercises important functions-several smaller portions of celebral substance, of whose use nothing is known, save that of one, termed the corpora quadrigimina, which is proved to have a direct instrumentality in the faculty of vision. The cerebrum, or larger brain, is divided into two hemispheres, connected at the base by a sort of bridge of dense white nervous fibre, and by numerous transverse lines of similar substance, which preserve their rapport. Each hemisphere which anterially is divided by a deep, horizontal fissure, is formed into a number of convolutions, and surrounded by two layers, very thin, of gray, granular matter, with a still thinner layer of white matter between them. The gray cellular matter is that in which the force is generated, the white fibrile nervous matter connected therewith, that by which it is conducted. In the centre and at the base of the cerebrum there are also several masses of the gray force-developing substance. The different nerves of sense connected with the different organs pass beneath the cerebrum frontways and edgeways in the direction of the lower and upper part of the continuations of the spinal column included in the encephalon. The cerebellum, or lesser brain, resembles the larger in being surrounded by gray matter and in interior substance, save that the latter is generally of a darker colour; but it differs in its arrangement, for, though divided into two portions, the fissure is not perpendicular, but horizontal. It is also connected with the larger brain by lamina of white, conductile, nervous fibre. Experiment has proved that the cerebellum is the primary recipient of all animal sensations, that it exercises a power of coördinating the muscular movements and over the different animal functionssecretion, etc.-and has been fitly termed the brain of the body. The cerebrum, or brain of the mind, is exclusively devoted to the production of the emotions, intellectual processes, and of the volitions, superiorly and anteriorly, connected with each respectively. While, however, the cerebellum exhibits a comparative degree of sensibility, and, if subjected to injury, leads, according to the part so affected, to various manifestations, such as loss of consciousness, irregularity or cessation of muscular motion, etc.; the cerebrum, or seat of the intellect and sensibility, is in itself wholly insensible. Of both brains the convolutions extend round their masses except at the points of the relative junction. The fissures, of which there are five, are on divisional spaces named ventricles, medially filled with a sort of aqueous fluid in which the parts adjacent are cushioned, and whose presence is found essential to healthy cerebral function.

The brain consumes an immense quantity of blood relatively to the other organs of the frame, and its circulation is differently distributed. While the veins, which differ from those of the body in having no valves, take a circumferal course, thus supplying the gray cineritious

layers of substance surrounding the convolutions of the hemispheres, the arterial circulation is arranged beneath, where it supplies the central masses or ganglia of gray cellular substance in the middle of the cerebral hemispheres and those arranged at the base of the brain. This supply of the two descriptions of blood is essential to the physical process of the intellectual powers, whatever it may be, but is not in itself the sole stimulant; a second, and that of essential importance, being supplied by the nerve current, comprising the sum of animal and muscular sensations, flowing into the brains from the spinal column. If the junction between the latter is separated, although the circulations continue their supply as before, the cerebrum becomes dead--thought and feeling extinct. Thus it appears, that although the matter within the encephalon is the instrument of consciousness and mind, both are the collective result of the collective nerve currents of the system.

What mind is will possibly never be known; the production of a single thought is a perpetual and inscrutable miracle: all that we are acquainted with, and that but limitedly and dimly, is something of the material process going on in the brain. Theories have been suggested to connect mental action with electricity, magnetism, etc.; but the arrangement of nerve branches does not fulfil the conditions for the first, which requires two conductors to join, whereas most of them ramify and are apparently lost in the masses of matter, white and gray. Of magnetism, little is known save that it is a result of electricity, and tends to alter the atomic condition of substance, not locally, but intrinsically. Electricity, we need not say, is a force inherent in almost all matter; an inherent formative power, whose results, according

the state and quality of matter inorganic or organic, are infinite. Experiment has shown that, when developed under simplest conditions, it exhibits an invariable law of spiral motion, moving from left to right, as regards the magnetic pole. Thus it may be seen manifested in a hundred phenomena in both universes of matter and life, in the spiral nebula the direction of the sun and planets in the orbits, even in the animal circulation propelled from the heart through the frame. With respect to the brain, its action appears primarily to arise from the impressions of the senses, in the central masses of gray matter at the base of the cerebrum, and in that and in the centre of the cerebellum, regions which seem to be the seats respectively of vital and intellectual consciousness. A force generated in either region may either flow through the masses of white conductile fibre to the external convolutions, or it may be from the latter to the former. During this process, the white fibre undergoes a degree of waste, and appears excited by the stimulus to consume itself in conveying or. creating the impressionsthus, as it were, uniting in itself the copper, zinc, and wires of an electric machine. As it has been proved, that a faint but well ascertained stream of electricity is generated in all living bodies, we may conceive that the nerve force, though different in its essential nature, follows

the same law of motion as electricity. In the centre of the larger brain, there is one large mass of gray force-generating matter surrounding a mass of white, which will possibly be found connected with the feelings, and with those strange, but deep and true displays of mind, which we name intuition. It is found that but one hemisphere of the brain is in action, or engaged in the process of ideation at a time; at least such is the phenomena exhibited by persons who have been traphined. From the fact that an injury inflicted on one-say the right-hemisphere, causes paralysis of the opposite side of the body, we are rather disposed to think that, while what may be called the primary exciting material process of intellectuation takes its rise in one hemisphere, its conscious effect is manifested in the other, whose reciprocal action may be somewhat analogous to the union, positive and negative, of the wires of the battery, whose result is heat and light.

GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY.

A STORY IN THREE CHAPTERS.

CHAPTER. I.

WHEN Mrs. Elder took her place at the head of her own table, in her own parlour, and drew the speckless napkin slowly from the ivory ring marked No. 1, there was a certain air of quiet dignity about her which was unmistakable. She was a placid matron of forty-five, with gray hair and dark eyes, and wonderfully soft white hands. John and Eleanor were her only children; and they lived in a neat cottage at an easy distance from town. Mrs. Elder being a lady of thrifty habits, and in the enjoyment of a small annuity, the cottage was always comfortably kept. There were, to be sure, none of the luxuries to which she had been accustomed in her early years. She neither went out nor entertained; and the consequence was, that the circle of her friends diminished gradually, until there were scarcely half a dozen who could be called even acquaintances. But Mrs. Elder was very happy, notwithstanding. She had wherewithal to live independently, and she was blessed with an affectionate daughter and a good and dutiful son. Mr. Elder died seven years before, and was buried under the shadow of the old cathedral. A handsome monument, erected, as the inscription stated, by his sorrowing family, bore testimony to his worth whilst living-"an affectionate husband and father, a true friend, and an esteemed citizen". This was Mr. Elder's character, as engraven on the marble over his remains. The anniversary of his death was always one of gloom to the little family of Hazel Lodge; and to-day the dinner passed over silently, without scarcely a word uttered by any of the three.

Eleanor was but seven when her father died, but she had a

vivid recollection of him, and more especially of the time after his death, when she used to sit with her mother up in the room looking out towards the churchyard, and cry away the long dreary evenings. This lasted several months; but after some time Mrs. Elder's grie seemed to moderate and settle down into a feeling of reverence for the memory of her dead husband.

John was much older than Eleanor. He was born two years after their marriage, and then a space of seven years interposed, when, to the astonishment of all Mrs. Elder's friends, who had long since arranged that her family was not to exceed one, it was ascertained that, beyond yea or nay, she was about to augment the household. Eleanor was the fruit of this promise, and was their second and last child.

The late Mr. Elder was always a hard-working man of business, and at the time of his death, which was caused by an apoplectic attack, it was generally believed that his interest in the firm of Bartlett, Elder, and Co., together with some house and land property, secured for his family a tolerable income. As to this, however, there was no means of arriving at a certain conclusion. The house of Bartlett and Co. worked on as prosperously as ever, without any change, unless, indeed, the omission of the name of Elder from the title of the firm; and Mrs. Elder gave up her establishment at Wood Park, sold off the greater portion of her furniture, and went to live in the quiet little cottage at Hazel Lodge. John was at home from school when the melancholy death of his father took place, and as he was a promising, intelligent boy, it was agreed that he should go at once to business under the care of his father's partner. So young John Elder became an apprentice in the house of Bartlett and Co., late Bartlett, Elder, and Co.

"Indeed, Mrs. Elder", said her husband's partner, when the subject of John's going to business was under discussion, "I must say that for the boy's own sake I would prefer that he should adopt some other line of business; but out of respect for his poor father, and as you seem anxious for it, I could not think of disappointing your wishes in this respect"; and Mr. Bartlett, plunging his long bony finger and thumb into the depths of his waistcoat pocket, drew therefrom an embossed silver snuff-box, and having tapped the lid contemplatively several times, took a large pinch of snuff. Mr. Bartlett evidently did not wish to take the boy, and acted like a man under some constraint, but wishing to make it appear that he was conferring a favour.

"I am very grateful for your kindness, Mr. Bartlett", said the sorrow-stricken widow, "and I hope John will earn for himself your confidence by his industry and attention".

Mr. Bartlett was a shrewd, clever man, tall and lank in appearance, with prominent cheek bones and a dry passionless eye. He had, we have said, an objection to receiving young John Elder as an apprentice so great an objection, that he reflected on it for days with an

amount of serious thought not generally given to transactions of such trifling moment. He could have wished, for reasons best known to himself, that Mrs. Elder and her son were at the bottom of the Red Sea. But he was a clever man, and thought to himself that under the circumstances it might be prudent to take the boy under his own "He will be safer with me", thought the clever Mr. Bartlett. "Eleanor, have you pulled the flowers ?"

care.

"Yes, mother”.

"Where are they?"

"On the drawing-room table. I have tied them into chaplets with black ribbon, and placed them in the small basket".

"It was this day seven years, children, your poor father was laid in his cold bed in the church-yard yonder. That was a sad day for you, children, and for me, too".

"I have often thought, mother", said John, "that my father's affairs must have been strangely managed. How did it happen that we got

so little out of his share in the house, when I believe his interest must have been considerable, for the business was always good?"

"I don't know, indeed, how it was. Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Powell, the solicitor, arranged it all. I have heard from Mr. Powell that the house was deeply embarrassed at the time of your poor father's death; that their liabilities were enormous, and that it was only by a struggle they were enabled to try and do something for us. Indeed, I must say, I have always found Mr. Bartlett extremely civil; but I haven't troubled him much".

"He always freezes me with his cold look", said Eleanor.

"I must say that I have no particular affection for him", said John ; "nor have I any reason to complain of him either. He is singularly polite to me, and never interferes with me in any way".

"He is kind to you, John, out of respect for your father's memory". "Well, perhaps so, mother".

"I have heard Mr. Bartlett say that he loved your father as much as if he were his own brother".

"Could he love anybody, mother dear, he has such a chill, hard look ?"

"Eleanor, my child, you must not always judge of people by their looks", replied her mother.

Mrs. Elder rose from the table soon after, followed by Eleanor, and went back into her own room. John walked out into the tastefullyarranged little flower-garden, which, under his and Eleanor's care, glowed with the varied bloom of the season.

"We are ready, John", said Mrs. Elder, as she made her appearance at the hall door.

"Very well, mother"; and, offering his arm to his mother, they walked down the shaded little lane towards the road leading to the church-yard. Eleanor carried the basket filled with flowers, which