if we were to publish them all, we should have to give our friends a large volume. But we cannot omit one.

Our friend, being one day in an omnibus, drew conversation to religious subjects, spoke of the love of God to poor sinners, and gave each passenger a copy of the Valesana, a tract by Dr. Malan, of Geneva, which has been made a blessing to many souls. The evening before leaving Genoa, our friend had occasion to go to a carpenter, to get his trunk repaired. While the carpenter was at work, our friend took the opportunity to tell him of free salvation in our Lord Jesus Christ. "Ah!" said the carpenter, "that is fine indeed! So says Jerome: he is now at the point of death, and refuses to confess himself, and says that God has pardoned him for the merits of His Son Jesus Christ." Our friend requested to be taken to the bed-side of the dying man; and who can describe the joy he experienced on recognising, in that dying Christian, one to whom, a few weeks before, he had declared, in the omnibus, the words of eternal life? After a short time, he fell asleep in the Lord. There are, in Genoa, no fewer than twelve parish-Priests who appear to be sincerely disposed to leave their Church.

ECCENTRICITY.

We have all known characters, otherwise very good and commendable, sadly disfigured by these things. There was something so odd and queer, simply ludicrous, without being at all vicious, that they looked (forgive the simile) like a squint in what would have been otherwise a really beautiful face; or like a great wen upon a fair and symmetrical form. I am aware some persons have aimed at being peculiar, though they have small pretence to originality; and rather than be like other people, would be distinguished by the deformity of the squint, and the wart upon their character. Despise such silly affectation, and be content with general uniformity of excellence, and thus with being in all things commonly beautiful in character, rather than covet to be distinguished by what is uncommonly, though perhaps only laughably, ugly.

And as there are eccentricities to be avoided, so there are

decorations of character to be studied and acquired. To advert again to the construction of a building, it may be made of substantial materials, and may have many good rooms, and answer well enough the purpose of a habitation, but all the while it may have a barn-like appearance. There are none of the tasteful ornaments of architecture; no Ionic grace; no Corinthian elegance, nor even Doric chasteness. Or, to refer to the human form, there may be symmetry, strength, even beauty, but the bearing may be low and vulgar, the manners repulsive, and the address unprepossessing. Is it not sometimes thus with character? There may be the possession of sterling integrity and great moral worth; in short, all the things that are true, and honest, and pure, and just; but not the things that are lovely. There is wanting the amiable temper, the courteous address, the attraction of kindness. It is a fine body in an uncomely dress; it is a lump of gold, but amorphous and unburnished; it is a diamond, not cut and flashing with all the hues of the rainbow, but dull and covered with all its earthy incrustations. Character is the best thing on earth: why not, then, invest it with all the charms of which it is susceptible, and compel men to love and admire it as they do a jewel, both for its own sake, and for the sake of its beautiful setting also. The character of every man, far more than his wealth, is public property, and should be so exhibited as not only to attract attention, but to excite admiration and emulation. We must endeavour to make virtue loved as well as esteemed.-Rev. J. A. James.

EXPERIMENTS WITH VENOMOUS SERPENTS. FROM DANIEL T. EVANS, ESQ.

To the Editor of "The Times."

In the course of last spring I was informed by my friend, Dr. Richard Quain, in a conversation upon animal poisons, that Mr. Squire, the well-known chymist, had told him he was desirous of testing the efficacy of a powder called Simaba Cedron, in high repute among the Indians as a remedy for the bite of poisonous reptiles. No experiments as to its merits having been made in this country, I at once suggested a trial

of it in the Zoological Gardens. Dr. Quain, whose love of science in every form is only equalled by the ardour and ability with which he pursues it, at once concurred, and I wrote to the Secretary of the Zoological Society for permission to try the remedy on animals bitten by serpents in the Society's collection. This was promptly accorded, and I have pleasure in adding that the Society, justly appreciating our motive, handsomely, and of their own accord, undertook all charges for animals and matériel: Mr. Mitchell, the Secretary, stating their "anxiety to afford all possible facilities for carrying out the investigation."

And here, in order to justify our proceedings to all who may read the subjoined report, and effectually to silence objections on the ground of cruelty, I feel it necessary to say that these experiments were not instituted in a spirit of vain and wanton curiosity, but with an earnest purpose to try the efficacy of a reputed remedy; and, that failing, in the hope to obtain such information as to the nature of the venom and its mode of operation as might extend our knowledge of animal poisons, and possibly suggest the means of counteracting their effect whenever occasion for so doing might unhappily arise. It is hoped and believed that the following notes will not be read without profit by the philosophic as well as the general reader.

The experiments took place on the 8th of July, in the presence of Dr. Quain, Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Squire, Mr. Wyatt, and myself. The animals experimented on were rabbits, guinea-pigs, and sparrows; and the serpents to whom they were offered were rattle-snakes, cobras, and puff-adders. The cobras, though tempted with birds, remained passive, and could not be provoked to bite. As some general characteristics appertain to all the experiments, it may be well, before entering upon the notes of each particular case, to throw them together and lay them before the reader at once. First, then, upon the introduction of an animal into their cage, the serpents became greatly agitated, raising themselves, and moving with a quick angular motion into attitudes of defence; sometimes, indeed, showing fear, evidenced by retreat into the tank containing water below the

level of their cage. This, however, soon subsided, and one of the group, as if by general consent, was left watching the prey and showing a purpose to strike it. The others coiled themselves up, and thereafter showed the immobility for which reptiles are remarkable, both puff-adders and rattlesnakes permitting the rabbits and guinea-pigs to walk over them with impunity. The attitudes and movements of the serpent intending to bite were very striking and beautiful. In the first place, he made, with the posterior half of the body, a bold curve, having a strong prehensile "purchase” on the floor of the cage, so as to secure a steady fulcrum for the rapid dart made at the time of the bite. The upper half of the body was raised some ten inches or a foot, the neck strongly arched, and the head, bent nearly at right angles with the neck, was poised directly opposite the prey. In such position the serpent remained a greater or lesser time, (sometimes as long as twenty minutes,) according to circumstances. During this interval the slightest motion of the animal before him was followed by an instantaneous and corresponding movement of the head and neck of the serpent. The purpose seemed to be that of aim-taking, for the eyes were intently fixed upon the prey; but I am by no means sure that the snake, knowing that the latter cannot escape him, does not derive pleasure from this prolonged and intent gaze. At all events, in one experiment, where the head of a rattle-snake so engaged was sideways to the glass of the cage, and near it, I observed, and called attention to the fact, a remarkable vermicular motion along the course of the poisongland to the opening of the angle of the mouth, which we thought might afford him pleasure, and this continued until the snake struck its prey. All these serpents seem to prefer striking when the animal is about a foot distant: when directly under and close to the head, they would not strike. The blow itself was very rapid; and although the united purpose of five observers was to detect the spot where the wound was inflicted, it was seldom any one succeeded. The puff-adders at first hissed violently, and swelled to double their

usual thickness: one of them struck at us, but was foiled by the intervening glass. The cobras raised themselves and spread out their beautiful hoods. The rattlesnakes retired and then advanced, but emitted no sound; and the one that did not bite soon returned to his former passive condition. The bite of the rattlesnake, as will be seen, caused the most speedy death.

So far the serpents. I now proceed to describe the peculiarities shown by the animals on which we experimented. Some philosophers have denied innate ideas to man: these and some others have furthermore denied an instinctive apprehension of danger in animals. They say that of itself, as born, the hare has no dread of the hound; that its fear is acquired of experience. I concur in neither of these opinions, and think the latter altogether refuted by the conduct of the animals exposed to serpents in these experiments. Not one of the guinea-pigs or rabbits (which were all something under their full growth) had ever seen a serpent, yet when introduced to the cage they showed unequivocal symptoms of distress and fear. In some instances they actually screamed before they were struck. They generally showed restlessness at first; but when the serpent, intending to strike, poised himself in front, they became for a time, if not altogether, motionless. Is there such a thing as "fascination?" If by this is meant a pleasurable paralysis of the animal's powers, I think it more than doubtful; but a deprivation of the power of motion from terror may, perhaps, take place. All, however, that I speak to is a perfectly motionless condition of snake and prey, lasting several minutes. In one case, however, a rabbit (without being compelled by us to move and aggravate the serpent, for our exhausted patience necessitated the hurrying of the bite) in the course of a few minutes seemed to forget its danger, sat up like a squirrel, rubbed its face with its paws, and moved indifferently about the cage, treading upon other snakes without hesitation. I now proceed to detail the experiments, adopting the curt form and language of my notes.

[Omitting the notes, we pass on to the conclusion, which