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is towards the south. Its area is estimated at 38,320 square miles, but only about a ninth part is inhabited, the rest being occupied with naked mountains of ice, or by lava and volcanic ashes and sand.

1. GEOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. We are accustomed to invest the arctic regions with the terrors of perpetual winter, and to suppose that the character of the inhabitants necessarily partakes of the sternness of their climate. But amid those tracts of snow and mountains of ice, all is not desolation: a closer inspection reveals softer features, and proves that even there a kind overruling Providence has assigned to the animal and the vegetable kingdoms their periods of enjoyment and fertility; and has enabled man not only to endure the clime, but to share in its peculiar enjoy-southern coast alone is flat and sandy; but here occur ments and greatly to mitigate its terrors.

The land to which we are about to invite attention, presents some of the wildest and grandest phenomena of nature together with gentler scenes which become more beautiful by contrast. The inhabitants, too, present some of the gloomy characters of their country, relieved cy many of those Christian virtues which happily spring up to adorn and to bless every region of the earth where true religion is known. Even in a country which we might be apt to fear was doomed to a spiritual darkness commensurate with its natural gloom, numbers are encouraged through the merits of a redeeming Saviour, to look forward to a brighter home than the most favoured spot in this world can afford.

Iceland is a large island situated in the North Atlantic Ocean, between 13° 2 and 24° 31' of west longitude, and between 63° 23′ and 66° 33' of north latitude. Its most northern point scarcely touches the arctic circle, whilst the North Cape, usually placed in maps to the north of this line, does not touch it. Its shape resembles somewhat that of a heart, the point of which


The aspect of Iceland is most repulsive. Its dark and rugged coasts frequently present lofty precipices which repel the advances of the ocean; but where the roc s are rent asunder, long narrow fiords, or inlets of the sea, are formed, in whose calm waters a safe retreat from a stormy ocean is often afforded to the mariner. The western coast is deeply indented with these fiords. The

numerous shoals, quicksands and breakers, which expose the fishermen to danger, and often render it impossible to land in safety. Many parts of the shore are occupied by long banks of sand, some of which are nearly two miles broad, and in other places numerous rocks defend it from the action of the waves.

As the traveller approaches Iceland, his attention is arrested, long before the coast is seen, by certain white specks in the horizon: these are the Jökuls, or snowy mountains. Sneefeld, one of these, is seen from a distance of 140 miles, and Sniofell from 100 miles. On a nearer approach, these mountains present themselves to the eye as colossal piles of perennial snow, and when reflecting the beams of a bright sun they shine forth with dazzling lustre, and tinge the atmosphere with a golden hue. The production of these jökuls is similar to that of the glaciers of the Alps and Pyrenees, but the low temperature and abundant moisture of Iceland, are more favourable to their increase. The rounded forms of the trachyte mountains allow vast quantities of snow to rest on their tops and sides. The summer's sun


melts the outer portion, and the water thus formed sinks far below the surface, where it is immediately converted into ice. Fogs and mists are attracted towards these mountains, and, condensed upon their summits, increase and consolidate the mass. Its smooth shining surface reflects the rays of the sun, so that but little heat is absorbed, and if during the day a portion of the snow is dissolved, it freezes again at night. One consequence of this alternate thawing and freezing is the production of rotten ice, which not offering sufficient resistance to the accumulating snows of many winters, the whole mass slides down into the valley and lays waste the narrow fields and scanty pastures of the natives. It is related that the Icelander who has returned after years of absence in a foreign land to end his days in the home of his childhood, may find it transformed into a desolate wilderness of ice. The volcanic fires which lurk within many of these jökuls also hasten the castastrophe by destroying the slight hold the ice has on the mountain, and, converting the under stratum into water, float the whole mass down into the valley. In this way seems to have been formed the Breidamark Jökul, which is now twenty miles long by fifteen broad, and four hundred feet high. It occupies a wide plain encompassed by hills, which several centuries ago was a beautiful vale adorned grass-fields, woods, and farms. Most of these icemountains occur in chains extending across the island, and exert a powerful influence both on its civil and physical character. The Klofa Jökuls are said to cover a space of 3000 square miles, and to be still encroaching on the land which separates them from the coast. It is even feared that the present narrow and dangerous path, which forms the only road between East and South Iceland will soon be obliterated. The chain is prolonged towards the west by a continuous plateau of ice, and terminates near the coast with the Oester Jökul. Many of the summits of this range greatly exceed 5000 feet in elevation, and form conspicuous land-marks to travellers approaching Iceland from the south at a distance of nearly one hundred miles. Other mountain chains of this description occur in various parts of the island, and stamp it with the character of barren desolation. Most of these rocky masses are of volcanic origin, as has often been fearfully proved by the concealed fire bursting forth with fury through the icy covering which concealed its terrors. The snowy chains of Jökuls inclose the great desert of Iceland, "whose unknown regions form the scene of many superstitious terrors to the natives; and indeed, the lonely and desolate aspect of this district can scarcely be exceeded by any other region on the earth. Age after age, volcano on volcano have poured their stony floods over its surface, till it has become almost one black scarified field. Immense masses torn from the neighbouring mountains, and wide chasms, everywhere interrupt the progress of the traveller, whilst the magnetic influence of the rocks renders the compass useless as a guide. Long tracts of volcanic sand, interspersed with huge insulated fragments of lava, can scarcely be said to diversify the scene. In these wastes no springs of water refresh the traveller, who, as in the deserts of Arabia, must carry a supply along with him. No bird, no beast, scarcely even a plant or humble moss relieves the tedium of the journey, or expels the feeling of loneliness that weighs upon his spirit. Where the internal fires have been most active, hills are tossed on hills in inextricable confusion, of which even the tempestuous ocean furnishes but a faint image. In other quarters magnificent glaciers of green transparent ice occur, whilst the volcanic scoria with which they are often mixed, exhibit a strange contrast, though one strikingly characteristic of this land, where fire and ice seem ever conjoined, and, yet ever contending for the mastery."

From a skilfully compiled article on Iceland, contained in a recent volume of the Edinburgh Cabinet Library.

Of the numerous volcanic cones of this island, that of Hekla is most familiar, on account of its position near the most frequented part of the island and in sight of vessels sailing to Greenland and North America; as also the frequency of its eruptions and the ease with which it can be approached. Its height has been computed at 5110 feet, and its circumference at the base between fifteen and twenty miles. It stands alone in the midst of a valley, and is about thirty miles from the southern coast. It consists chiefly of lava and scoriæ mixed with ashes, pumice, and partially fused stones emitted by the fiery streams of numerous eruptions. It is divided near the top into three peaks, in the sides of which craters are formed. Mackenzie, in 1810, found steam issuing from the central peak, and the heat to be so great that on removing some of the exterior stones, those below were too hot to be handled. Its sides are marked by numerous ravines which discharge the winter cataracts, and seem to have been occasioned either by molten lava, or by the torrents of water or melted snow which often accompany an eruption. The fertile plain which once surrounded this volcano is now buried beneath the desolating streams which it has from time to time poured forth: for nearly ten miles around no vegetation is to be seen, but only the ruined walls of numerous farm-houses which tell a mournful tale of peace and prosperity for ever departed.

Although Hekla is better known than most of the other Icelandic mountains, yet it is said to be by no means equal in picturesque appearance to the Trehyrning or Three-Horned Mountain, situated near it, and represented in our frontispiece, from a sketch by M. Gaimard. The height of this mountain is only 2860 feet.

In some of the plains surrounding Krabla, and other burning mountains in the north of the island, and sometimes on the mountains themselves, are many fens containing boiling pits of sulphur and mud. Olafsen describes one which had the form of a huge kettle filled to within thirty feet of the brim with viscid bluish water, visible only when the wind wafted aside the dense vapour that ascended from the surface, and threw an acid mud on the banks. Another of these strange caldrons, described by Henderson, was about 700 feet below the summit of the mountain. Its circumference measured about 300 feet, and it contained a mixture of water, sulphur, and bluish-black mud, in a state of constant ebullition, and every few minutes casting up a jet from the centre. This rose at first to a height of about twelve feet, increasing by jerks to thirty feet, when it quickly declined, and was succeeded by a smaller jet from another part of the pool. The sides, composed of red earth and sulphur, were so soft that it was dangerous to approach the margin. This traveller speaks of the horrors of this pool as being absolutely indescribable; and says that the awful impression they left upon his mind can never be erased. Sometimes a narrow tract covered with grass, has tempted man to take up his abode near the scene of these terrible operations: the internal fires growing fiercer and fiercer, the contents of the caldrons have boiled over, and consumed and corroded every green thing they touched.

If during their periods of repose the numerous volcanic mountains of Iceland are objects of high interest to the traveller, how intensely painful does that interest become when they are aroused from the torpor perhaps of centuries, and discharge their magnificent artillery over the devoted land around them. We have numerous records of these eruptions, every one of which is a tale of terror; but our space will not allow us to do more than refer briefly to the eruption of the Skaptar Jökul, in 1783*.

The winter preceding this year had been unusually mild, but nothing seemed to foretell approaching danger, A detailed account of this, as well as several other eruptions, will be found in the volume already named.

till towards the end of May, when a light bluish fog was seen floating along the ground, succeeded in the early part of June by earthquakes, which increased daily in violence till the 8th of that month. At nine on the morning of that day, numerous pillars of smoke were seen rising in the hill-country towards the north, which, gradually gathering into a dark mass, obscured the air, and proceeding southerly, against the wind, involved the district of Sida in darkness, showering sand and ashes to the thickness of an inch, This cloud continued to increase till the 10th, when fire-spouts were observed in the mountains accompanied by earthquakes. Next day the large river Skaptaa totally disappeared. On the 12th, a huge current of lava burst from one side of the volcano, and rushed with a loud crashing noise down the channel of the river, which it not only filled, but overflowed, though in many places from 400 to 600 feet deep, and 200 broad. The devastating progress of the fiery stream over the low country was, for a few days, intercepted by a lake, but the basin was at length filled, and the burning flood proceeded onwards in two directions: one to the east, where its progress was for a short time interrupted by the Skalafiall, up which, however, the stream forced its way, rolling the mossy covering of the mountain before it like a large piece of cloth. The other current proceeded southward, passing over some old lava which again began to burn. Rivers were made to boil, and these destroyed many spots which the fire had spared. Here the liquid matter continued to fow till the 20th of July, and, following chiefly the course of the Skaptaa, it at length poured over the lofty cataract of Stapafoss, and filled up the enormous cavity below. During the whole of this eruption the air was filled with noxious vapours, or darkened with clouds of ashes, by which the sun was either concealed from the miserable inhabitants, or appeared like a blood-red globe which increased their terror and dismay.

The fury of this volcanic storm had been so long confined to the Skaptaa, that the inhabitants of the eastern district on the Hverfisflist, though greatly incommoded by showers of ashes, hoped to escape its more immediate visitations, But on the 28th of June a cloud of sand and smoke caused so thick a darkness that objects within doors could not be distinguished; whilst red-hot stones and dust burned up the pastures, poisoned the waters, and threatened to set fire to the dwellings. On the 3rd of August, a thick vapour arose From the Hverfisflist, its waters entirely disappeared, and on the 9th a foaming fire-stream rushed furiously down ts bed, overflowing the country in one night to the extent of more than four miles. The eruptions continued till the end of August, when the whole catastrophe closed with a violent earthquake,

The destructive effects of this volcano were not confined to its immediate vicinity: vast quantities of sand and ashes were scattered over the remoter parts of the island, and some were conveyed to the Faroe Islands, a distance of nearly 300 miles. The noxious vapours that for many months infected the air were equally pernicious to man and beast, and covered the whole island with a dense fog, which obscured the sun, and was perceptible even in England and Holland. The steam rising from the crater, or exhaled from the boiling waters, was condensed in the cooler regions of the atmosphere, and descended in floods that deluged the fields and consolidated the ashes into a thick black crust. A fall of snow in the middle of June, and frequent showers of hailstones of unusual magnitude, accompanied with tremendous thunder-storms, tearing up huge fragments of rock, and rolling them down into the plains, completed the scene of desolation. The grass and other plants withered, and became so brittle that the weight of a man's foot reduced them to powder; and even where the pastures seemed to have recovered, the cattle refused to touch them, dying of actual starvation in the midst of

most luxuriant herbage. Small unknown insects covered many of the fields, whilst other portions of the soil, formerly the most fertile, were changed by the ashes into marshy wastes, overgrown with moss and equiseta. A disease, resembling scurvy in its most malignant type, attacked both men and cattle, occasioned in the former, no doubt, by the scarcity of food, and the miserable, often disgusting, nature of that which alone they could obtain, Many ate of the bodies of those animals which had perished from hunger or disease, whilst others had recourse to boiled skins, or substances still more nauseous and unwholesome. The numerous earthquakes, with the ashes and other matter thrown into the sea, caused the fish to desert many parts of the coast, whilst the fishermen seldom daring to leave the land, enveloped in thick clouds during most of the summer, were thus deprived of their usual stock of winter provisions. This frightful catalogue of evils occasioned the loss of 1300 human beings, 19,488 horses, 6801 horned cattle, and 129,937 sheep. This is the most moderate calculation. Stephenson, who wrote an account of the eruption, gives much higher numbers, which however are thought to be exaggerated.


AMONG those optical phenomena which are calculated to deceive, when considered by the aid of the eye only, there is one of a very curious kind called Anamorphosis, a term derived from two Greek words signify a distortion of figure. The phenomenon consists in this, that a distorted and grotesque figure, out of all regular proportion when viewed in a customary way, shall become symmetrical and regular when viewed from a particular point. We shall select one example, and illustrate by its means how such optical puzzles may be produced geometrically.

Take any subject at pleasure, say a portrait of a female head, as in fig, 1, and of small size. Divide it vertically and horizontally with parallel lines, of which the outer shall all form the boundary A B C D, and the whole shall be equidistant. Then, on a separate piece of paper or cardboard, prepare a drawing similar to fig. 2, by the following means. Draw a horizontal line a b, equal to A B, and divide it into as many equal parts as the latter is divided. Let fall a perpendicular line e v, from the middle of a b, and then draw sv parallel to a b. Both ev and sv may be any length at pleasure; but the longer the first is, and the shorter the other, so will the anamorphosis be more and more deformed; the proportions in our figures are sufficiently different.

After having drawn from the point v, right lines v 1, v 2, v 3, v 4, to the divisions of a b, draw the line sb, and through each point where sb intersects the divergent lines, draw other horizontal lines paralled to a b. We shall thus have a trapezium, a b c d, divided into as many cells as the square in fig. 1. The next step is, to fill up all the cells of fig. 2, with portions of the device proportionate to their position in fig. 1. For instance, in fig. 1, the nose is in the second vertical division from the left, and in the third and fourth horizontal divisions from the top; and that portion of the face must accordingly be placed in a corresponding part of fig. 2. But it will obviously be necessary to introduce great distortion of figure; and the more numerous the divisions, both horizontal and vertical, the The easiest way is, more readily will this be effected. to make the points of intersection, of the horizontal and vertical lines, fall on corresponding parts of the face in the figures; after which the other portions can be filled in.

By these means we procure the anamorphosis seen in fig. 2, which, when viewed from a particular position, will lose all its distortion, and assume an appearance resembling that in fig. 1. This position lies immediately over the point v, and at a height above it equal to the


length of the line s v; and the means of determining it are as follow. Place the drawing horizontally before a window; take a slip of card, and rest its lower edge on the immes, the card being accurately vertical; pierce a small hole in the card vertically over the point v, and at a height from it equal to the length of the line s v; then, with the eye placed immediately behind the card, look through the orifice at the anamorphosis. It will be found that, as soon as the eye has become accustomed to the novelty of the experiment, the anamorphorsis will lose its distortion, and appear almost exactly like the symmetrical figure.


Fig. 1.



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and such results. Perhaps the idea may better be caught by selecting a mechanical form of trying the experiment, a form, indeed, which may in many cases be the most easy to a young experimentalist. Having selected a design on paper, pierce it by means of a needle or pin with a number of small holes, at the principal points of its circumference and interior details. Then, holding this drawing in a vertical position over a flat sheet of paper and placing a candle at a short distance behind it, the rays of light which pass through the holes will fall upon the surface which is to receive the anamorphosis, and will there mark certain points of the device, which may be afterwards filled up by the pencil. Then, the eye being placed at the point previously occupied by the flame of the candle, we shall see this figure under a very regular form, although it would appear grotesque and misshapen to an eye placed anywhere else.

This last-mentioned mode of performing the experiment is very instructive, in reference to the cause of the deception. We have supposed the design to be vertical, the anamorphosis horizontal, and both to be formed of plane flat surfaces. The candle, too, we have supposed to be placed near the design, and elevated a little above it. But all these conditions may be varied ad libitum. The design may be either vertical or inclined; the paper on which the anamorphosis is to be formed may be either horizontal or inclined; the surface of the paper may be either plane or curved; the candle may be more or less elevated above the design, and more or less distant from it. All these variations in the conditions of the experi ment produce variations in the appearance of the ana morphosis; and yet all suffice to give to the an morphosis a regular form, when the eye is placed in the position previously occupied by the flame of the candle. This is in fact the distinguishing principle of the experiment.

In general, such subjects are chosen, and the degree of distortion is such, as will produce a figure utterly unintelligible when seen in the common way by a person unused to the experiment. Some artists have even succeeded in giving to the anamorphosis an appearance of an image which becomes changed into another totally different when seen from a particular point of view. Thus Niceron made a drawing which, when viewed in the customary manner, represented a rural landscape; but when viewed from a particular point of sight, it totally changed its character, and gave a representation of two men upon the walls of a cloister.

There is a kind of anamorphosis sometimes found at the opticians, which, though nothing more than a toy, is very curious in reference to our present subject. A conical mirror is placed upon its base on a sheet of paper, which is marked with certain confused lines. When the eye is placed in one definite spot, and views this design as reflected in the surface of the mirror, the confused lines become combined or congregated so as to form a regular figure. The construction of such an anamorphosis is a very ingenious application of the optical law, that in reflected light the "angle of incidence is equal to the angle of reflexion;" and although we cannot here follow out the method to its minute details, we may offer a few explanations. In the first place, a design is prepared on a piece of paper, and is inclosed in a circular boundary. The circle is then divided into equal segments by radii proceeding from the centre to the circumference; and these segments are further divided by concentric circles, drawn equidistant one within another. The surface of the design is thus divided into several curved portions; and the more numerous these portions are, the more correctly can the anamorphosis be made. This design, thus divided, forms the pattern from which the drawing of the anamorphosis is to be effected; but before this can be done, a sheet of paper must be marked with lines in a peculiar manner. This is an intricate part of the business; for the object is, to arrange


circles and lines in such a manner, that when a conical mirror is placed on the paper, and the eye placed above it, in the prolongation of the axis, the reflexion of all these lines shall together form a figure similar to that of the circles and radii of the original design. A great many circumstances have to be taken into account here; such as the diameter of the cone; the proportion between its diameter and its height; the obliquity of its sides; the height of the eye above the apex. All these matters are to be expressed geometrically on paper, and the requisite lines and circles deduced from them. The anamorphosis, or rather the chart on which it is to be formed, consists of concentric circles and radii, as in the original pattern, though of different proportions; and the experimenter then proceeds to work in the design. This is a task of some difficulty; for that portion of the device which was represented in the centre of the pattern, must be placed at the outer circumference of the anamorphosis: while the exterior portions of the device in the pattern are copied in or rather near the central part of the anamorphosis. A space is left in the middle, on which the base of the conical mirror is to be placed; and the eye being then held in a given position above the apex of the cone, sees a regular and symmetrical figure reflected from the surface of the mirror. In order to prevent the eye from wandering to an unsuitable position, it is desirable to view the mirror through a perforated card, held horizontally at the proper distance above the apex of the cone.

These optical illusions greatly surprise those who arc not familiar with their nature and causes, on account of the want of resemblance between the anamorphosis, and the figure represented. A still more remarkable effect is produced when the mirror is pyramidal instead of eonical, for in that case only a portion of the device drawn on the sheet of paper can be reflected to an eye above the apex. All those rays which fall on the angles of the pyramid, or on any of the sides in other than vertical planes, are not reflected to the eye, and do not form part of the compounded image. Consequently, we may fill up these portions of the sheet of paper with any grotesque device we please, provided correct drawing be bestowed on those parts which are reflected to the eye, and the anamorphosis is then such as to baffle all the speculations of an uninitiated spectator.

In these optical illusions, if the devices be coloured, as they ought to be to produce the most striking effect, some tact is required in proportioning the depth of tint, so that the reflected tints, whether coming from a near or a remote part of the drawing, may have a due intensity.



THE following tale is from the pen of a writer who has devoted his whole life to the welfare of his fellow creatures. HENRY ZSCHOKKE is not only acknowledged as one of the most distinguished novelists and historians of Germany, but also as one of her most active statesmen and philanthropists. Almost all his writings tend to improve the moral condition of the people. He thinks it not degrading to address even the lowest classes, in that simple and unaffected style, which alone can speak to their hearts and awaken in them those higher mental feelings, which but too commonly are kept down by their miserable condition. Even in his most classical works, such as his famous History of Switzerland, which has been translated into several languages, he keeps the people constantly in view. Possessing not only a high reputation as a classical writer, but also great power as a statesman, he stands in a position in which his Christian philanthropy finds full scope for activity. Watching for half a century the evils that have crept upon society, he could not but see that their main source was drunkenness. In vain had he endeavoured to improve the moral character of the Swiss, which has been of late much degraded through the increasing intercourse with foreigners, by holding before them the high examples of their sober, brave, and virtuous forefathers, or by showing, as he had done in a popular little work called The Village of the Gold-makers, (translated some years ago into English,) how to obtain real prosperity. But

his efforts were of no avail with a people stupefied by the immoderate use of ardent spirits. He resolved therefore to attack the main evil, and after having carefully considered the attempts that have been made in England and America, for rescuing the unfortunate victims of drunkenness from ruin, he wrote the Brandy Pest, and had it distributed widely among the poor, with a view not only of opening the eyes of the blind and ignorant, but also of stimulating all good Christians to assist in the eradication of a wide-spread disease.

The tale produced the intended effect. The sensation it created was extraordinary. The advice given in it was widely adopted; and Zschokke has been amply rewarded by witnessing the gradual moral improvement of thousands, arising from the formation of temperance societies, and the zealous assistance of many clergymen, magistrates, and other benevolent men. Although in this country much has been done to eradicate the the evil of drunkenness, yet the following little tale will be found neither superfluous nor unworthy of the attention of all classes, as it is intended "to instruct and warn the rich and the poor, the old and the young," of this country as well as of that for which it is especially written. The character, talents, rank, and almost European name of its author, as well as the circumstance of its being entirely free from party spirit, will doubtless justify the present translation.

With regard to the title, it must be borne in mind that in Switzerland brandy is the cheapest spirit, and consequently that liquor of which there is the greatest consumption. It is in fact the gin of the Swiss. The corresponding English title or the little book would therefore be, THE GIN PEST. But having no wish to alter anything in the locality of the tale, nor to modify it so as to represent the state of drunkenness in this country, the translator has kept strictly to the subject-matter of the original, and retained even the peculiarly simple construction of the sentences; preserving thus a true and faithful picture of a Swiss story as related by Henry Zschokke. The translation of this tale is certainly little calculated to display the great skill and talent which Zschokke possesses as one of Germany's best novel-writers, and to induce the English to make themselves more acquainted with his works; but if the author of Waverley is not less great because he wrote the Tales of a Grandfather, Zschokke's reputation may not be injured by his Brandy Pest and Village of the Gold-makers; works which he wrote, not to increase his fame as a novelist, but to contribute to the happiness of mankind.

The Fellow Traveller.

ON my journey homeward from England, I made the acquaintance of a gentleman whom I met with at an inn. He was handsome in his personal appearance, and refined in his manners, but he was evidently depressed in spirits, and he spoke but little. When, however, he learned that I was a native of Switzerland, he took me warmly by the hand, called me his fellow-countryman, and offered me a seat in his carriage for the remainder of the journey. I accepted his offer with pleasure.

He informed me that his name was Fridolin Walter, and that he was a physician. He had, during the last four years, been travelling with a rich nobleman through the greater part of Europe, and the good lord had conferred on him a handsome pension for life, in acknowledgment of his skill and attention during an alarming illness in a foreign country, to which under Providence his lordship attributed not only his own but his daughter's recovery. "As you succeeded so well in these cases, doctor," said I, "you can perhaps give me some good advice, for I suffer dreadfully from indigestion and violent pains in the stomach." Looking at me firmly for a while, as if he would pierce me through with his black eyes, he said drily, "You may become much worse, friend." "You alarm me," I exclaimed; "I know not the cause of my complaint."

"But I have discovered it," he answered, "during the few days that we have travelled together. The spirits which you take are the cause of it, although you do not drink what you call much; that is to say, you take in the morning before breakfast a glass of rum, after dinner a glass of cherry-brandy with your coffee, and in the evening another for your sleeping-draught.”

"Oh, you are joking, doctor," replied I; "a glass of good spirits, now and then, can do me no harm, for I am accustomed to live simply. It gives me ease, strengthens and warms my stomach, excites my spirits, and everything goes on ten times better, after I have taken it. I declare to you, the whole earth looks much merrier after a moderate dram than before."

"You are quite right," answered the doctor, "such are always the first effects of spirits, and that is why people are so fond of dram-drinking; the second effect, however, is not so good. It makes you afterwards sleepy, weak, and nervous;

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