scrofula, panting lungs in populous cities pent,
weary brains sinking under the struggle for
life, are sent to the sea, to bathe, breathe, and
take their rest. Similarly, not sea-sickness only,
but sea-scurvy too, are often to be got rid of
by a return to land. Does the reader require
to be reminded of the happy moment (if
he has ever known it) when he stepped from
off a rolling and pitching, on to a still and steady,
floor? The pavement of the humblest alley,
the ruts of the worst kept road, are to many
preferable to the deck of the finest ship that ever
swam. And in cases of scurvy, earth, earthy
produce—fresh roots, vegetables, and fruits—
even earth baths, are panaceas. Like Antæus,
son of Neptune and Terra, the ailing sailor
gains fresh strength every time he sets foot on
earth. For other complaints, mud baths are in
high esteem in sundry localities; as at St.
Amand in the north, and at Dax in the south,
of France, where (especially at the former
place) people play at being toads and frogs for
the cure of gout and rheumatism.

Many earthy matters have great affinity and
attraction for many gases. Mr. Smee
discovered that coke or charcoal might have so
much hydrogen firmly attracted to it that, when
plunged into solutions of gold, silver, or copper,
an extensive deposition of metal took place;
moreover, the charcoal was able to retain the
gas for many days. Earths, by naturally
exercising the same principle on an extensive scale,
tend greatly to purify the atmosphere. Lime
is eminently useful as a purifier. A simple and
easy mode of quickly purifying the air of a
small apartment in which people are crowded,
is to mix a bucket of quick lime and water to a
creamy or custardy consistence; and then to
take a common bellows, thrust its nozzle into
the mixture, and blow away. The vitiated air
of the room, entering by the valve of the bellows,
will be forced through the lime and water,
and will leave in it the carbonic acid, and
perhaps other noxious elements which it contains.
This process, however, supplies no oxygen,
which must be obtained by the free admission
of air; but it gets rid of impurities which might
cause deleterious effects.

We cannot but regard it as a providential
arrangement that all earths should have an
affinity for, or the power of retaining, the gases
or effluvia which arise from the putrefactive
fermentation of animal and vegetable matter
which takes place on or near the surface. It
thus becomes our interest to use as manure, to
put out of the way for our own benefit, the
substances which would prove most noxious to
our health if left exposed. Many animals even
act instinctively as scavengers, and place noisome
rejectamenta underground. A poison thus
becomes a producer of food. The animal world
breathes freely; the vegetable world is nourished.
Herbivorous creatures grow and thrive;
carnivorous creatures both eat them and make use
of their produce, their fur and wool. For the
same reason, economical farmers employ much
earth in making their manure-heaps. So powerful
a disinfectant is earth, that the mould, thus
impregnated, is nearly as valuable as the dung
itself in enriching and improving the soil to
which it is applied.

Earth has been called our last home, our
final resting-place. On the very account just
stated, it should be so. The various nations of
the world have had, and still have, various ways
of disposing of their dead. European society
takes it for granted, whether in mournful or in
merry mood, that we should be deposited for
our final sleep in the lap of our common
mother.

Earth shall cover her,
We'll dance over her
When my wife is underground.

Lie heavy on him, earth; for he (an architect)
Laid many a heavy load on thee.

Perhaps the most horrible practice of all is
the Indian fashion of tossing corpses into tidal
rivers, where they shock the sight and pollute
the air for days together. The barbarous
custom of suspending departed relations in the air,
on poles or scaffolds, cannot be salubrious, and
must be unsavoury. Embalming is more trouble
than our remains are worth, especially as it is
merely a temporary preservation; for, as we
have already seen, there is nothing on earth
which does not change, slowly or quickly, as the
case may be.

Burning, and the subsequent Urn Burial, are
rapid, effectual, and striking processes, which
have provoked some of Browne's best eloquence.
"That great antiquity, America, lay buried for
thousands of years, and a large part of the
earth is still in the urn unto us.

"Christians dispute how their bodies should
lie in the grave. In urnal interment, they
clearly escaped this controversy. To be gnawed
out of our graves, to have our skulls made
drinking-bowls, and our bones turned into pipes,
to delight and sport our enemies, are tragical
abominations escaped in burning burials. Urnal
interments and burnt relicks lie not in fear of
worms, or to be an heritage for serpents."

On the other hand, "He that lay in a golden
urn, eminently above the earth, was not like to
find the quiet of his bones. Many of those urns
were broke by a vulgar discoverer, in hope of
inclosed treasure. The ashes of Marcellus were
lost above-ground, upon the like account. When
Alexander opened the tomb of Cyrus, the
remaining bones discovered his proportion,
whereof urnal fragments afford but a bad conjecture,
and have this disadvantage of grave interments,
that they leave us in ignorance of most personal
discoveries." And they do not always save the
corpse from insult. It was "an affront upon
Tiberius, while they but half burnt his body,
and in the amphitheatre, according to the custom
in notable malefactors; whereas Nero
seemed not so much to fear his death, as that
his head should be cut off, and his body not
burnt entire.

"That carnal interment or burying was of the
elder date, the old examples of Abraham and