May 30, Tuesday.-Seal of the Hispid varietythe Netsik of the Esquimaux and Danes-grow still more numerous on the level floes, lying cautiously in the sun beside their atluks. By means of the Esquimaux stratagem of a white screen pushed forward on a sledge until the concealed hunter comes within range, Hans has shot four of them. We have more fresh meat than we can eat. For the past three weeks we have been living on ptarmigan, rabbits, two reindeer, and seal. They are fast curing our scurvy. With all these resources, coming to our relief so suddenly, too, how can my thoughts turn despairingly to poor Franklin and his crew? Can they have survived? No man can answer with certainty; but no man, without presumption, can answer in the negative. If, four months ago, surrounded by darkness, and bowed down by disease, I had been asked the question, I would have turned towards the black hills and the frozen sea, and responded in sympathy with them, 'No.' But with the return of light a savage people came down upon us, destitute of any but the rudest appliances of the chase, who were fattening on the most wholesome diet of the region, only forty miles from our anchorage, while I was denouncing its scarcity. For Franklin, everything depends upon locality; but, from what I can see of Arctic exploration thus far, it would be hard to find a circle of fifty miles in diameter entirely destitute of animal resources. The most solid winter ice is open here and there in pools and patches, worn by currents and tides. Such were the open spaces that Penny found in Wellington Channel; such are the stream-holes (stromhols) of the Greenland Coast, the Polynia of the Russians; and such we have ourselves found

in the most rigorous cold of all. To these spots the seal, walrus, and the early birds crowd in numbers. One which kept open, as we find from the Esquimaux, at Littleton Island, only forty miles from us, sustained three families last winter until the opening of the North Water. Now, if we have been entirely supported for the past three weeks by the hunting of a single man-seal meat alone being plentiful enough to subsist us till we turn homeward-certainly a party of tolerably skilful hunters might lay up an abundant stock for the winter. As it is, we are making caches of meat under the snow to prevent it spoiling on our hands, in the very spot which a few days ago I described as a Sahara. And, indeed, it was so for nine whole months, when this flood of animal life burst upon us, like fountains of water, and pastures, and datetrees in a southern desert. I have undergone one change in opinion. It is of the ability of Europeans or Americans to inure themselves to an ultra-Arctic climate. God forbid, indeed, that civilised men should be exposed for successive years to this blighting darkness! But around the Arctic Circle, even as high as 72°, while cold, and cold only, is to be encountered, men may be acclimatised, for there is light enough for out-door labour. Of the 136 picked men of Sir John Franklin in 1846, northern Orkney men, Greenland whalers, so many young and hardy constitutions, with so much intelligent experience to guide them, I cannot realise that some may not yet be alive-that some small squad or squads, aided or not aided by the Esquimaux of the expedition, may not have found a huntingground, and laid up from summer to summer enough of fuel, and food, and seal-skins, to brave three or even four winters in succession. My mind never realises the complete catastrophe-the destruction of all Franklin's crew. I picture them to myself broken into detachments, and my mind fixes itself on one little group of some thirty, who have found the open spot of some tidal eddy, and, under the teachings of some Esquimaux, or perhaps one of their own Greenland whalers, have set bravely to work, and trapped the fox, speared the bear, and killed the seal, and walrus, and whale. I think of them even with hope. I sicken not to be able to reach them.

Let us hope that these conjectures may prove to be well founded, and that something may yet be done to clear up all doubt upon the subject.

It is no uncommon thing to find, hidden away here and there, in odd corners, where they fill up what would otherwise be gaps, and which office performed, they are seldom more seen or heard of, little tit-bits of information on subjects pertaining to natural history, which, if carefully collected and sifted-tit-bits so found do require sifting-would make up in time a very respectable contribution to our knowledge of the history, habits, and utilities of animals. Henceforth, we purpose from time to time treating our readers to a

bundle of such carefully-selected small matters; not always limiting ourselves to a dry, matter-of-fact style of telling our story, nor to such facts alone as would be sure to gain admittance to a regular scientific treatise; but in this particular dropping a little of that pedantic severity which, as Mr Ruskin says, considers natural history to be mainly the art of writing Latin names on white tickets, and giving the subject a little wider and more genial amplification.

There is a notable royal speculation afoot.

The King of Bavaria is making an attempt to cultivate on a large scale his native breed of pearl-oysters. The rich collection of pearls of Bavarian origin, that was exhibited two years ago at the Munich Industrial Exhibition, conclusively proved that the German pearl-oyster (Concha margaritefera) is worth the looking after; and his Bavarian Majesty seems now disposed to turn his mollusc subjects to account. The pearl-oyster is frequently met with, it appears, in the brooks and rivulets of the Bavarian Wood, and the mountains of the Fichtelgebirge, where the bottom of the water is, in many places, paved as it were for several feet together with their shells. It is not every oyster, it is true, that contains a pearl, nor are the pearls that do occur of the same excellence as those from the fisheries of the south, though they are esteemed by the jeweller. The King of Bavaria has now directed Dr von Hessling, the zoologist of Munich, to make close and minute investigation into the nature and process of the life of the mollusc, in order to see whether it will be possible to propagate it by artificial means; and if the learned doctor report in the affirmative, we shall no doubt soon hear of the establishment of regular pearl-fishers in the north.

Our Scottish readers, if no others, will be glad to learn that another attempt is being made to introduce the capercailzie, once the pride of the pine-woods of the Highlands, to one of its long-deserted haunts in this island. Mr Majoribanks of Guisachan has sent a number of the birds to his estate in Shalhglass, where they were last seen as wild British game. The capercailzie is still abundant in the wilds of Norway, and annually finds its way to the London market, with its snowy companions the ptarmigan, where they swing together as part of the grand array which decorates the game-dealers' windows at Christmas time.

It may not be amiss to give an excerpt from an Oriental paper. Our readers have doubtless heard of the project

ed visit to this country of the ex-King of Oude. His live stock was sold off some time since, and the Cawnpore Central Star' gives the following as the list of animals it included :--2840 bullocks, 220 horses, ponies, tangans, &c.; 110 buffaloes and calves, 295 cows and calves, 12 camels, 2 giraffes, 64 dogs, 18 tigers, 3 leopards, 4 lynxes, 3 rhinoceroses, I common leopard, 42 deer, 4 asses, 200 goats and kids, 80 rams, 114 sheep, 3 elks, 60 hawks (of sorts), 1 bear, I hyena, 1 wolf, 1 jackal, 1 porcupine, 10,000 pigeons, 70 guinea-fowl, 920 geese and ducks, 1480 small birds, 565 cocks and hens, and 128 elephants. A somewhat remarkable assortment that, eminently befitting its most magnificent owner.

The Zoological Gardens have lately received a novelty, in the shape of a pteropus, or flying fox, as it is commonly called, from Australia. The animal is one of the bat tribe, belonging to the large fruit-eating section of the order Cheiroptera, of which the famous kalong (Pteropus Javanicus) of Java is the best known example. According to the statements of Mr Fairholme, read before the Zoological Society a short time since, the Australian pteropus is well known in the southern parts of Australia in the summer months, but by far the largest flights are seen in the warmer climates. The attention is generally attracted to them just as daylight disappears, by the heavy flapping sound of their wings, as they fly in great numbers overhead, all in the same direction. These flights often continue to pass for many hours together, on their way to the feeding places, which are generally about the banks of rivers, where the tree known as the flooded gum yields them an abundance of food. The account thus given of the Australian pteropus almost exactly coincides with that of Dr Horsfield of the Javanese species, and proves the identity of habit between these singular animals. The visiter to the Zoological Gardens would do well to seek out the flying fox, and note the singularity of its form and appearance.

Ismeer, or Smyrna and its British Hospital in 1855. By a Lady. Small 8vo, 350 pp. London: James Madden.

On the 3d of March, 1855, I was fairly en route, one of a party of lady volunteers for the British Hospital at Smyrna; not indeed that part of the East I had longed and hoped to see ever since I can remember-namely, Palestine; but 'though not

the rose, was somewhat near it,' and was full of interest of its own; besides, I carried with me a great amount of enthusiasm for the work I was to be engaged in.

The British Consul came to see us at Marseilles, and dined with us. It was thought advisable, by the lady superintendent, that we should appear in caps; and as most of us had locked up our store of six orthodox government ones, and possessed no

others, we sallied forth to a milliner's to get some; and then commenced the momentous process of trying on, and ejaculations of 'This does not suit me at all!' 'I look hideous in this!' and so forth, were heard on all sides. I finally became possessor of an elaborate piece of French millinery, in which I looked like 'an owl in an ivy bush.' Perhaps it may be thought, that all this solicitude about our caps was unsuitable in persons going out as what is called 'Sisters of Mercy;' but I must once for all say, that, as far as I was concerned, I neither professed to be a Sister of Charity, a Sister of Mercy, nor anything of the kind. I was, as I told the poissarde of Boulogne, a British woman, who had little to do at home, and wished to help our poor soldiers if I could abroad. The reason given to me for the peculiarity and uniformity of our dress was, that the soldiers might know and respect their nurses; it seemed a sensible reason, and one which I could not object to, even disliking, as I did, all peculiarity of attire that seemed to advertise the wearers only as serving God, or, at least, serving him pre-eminently, and thus conveying a tacit reproach to the rest of the world, for the obligation lies on all the same. I did not feel then, nor do I now, that we were doing anything better or more praiseworthy than is done in a quiet, unostentatious way at home every day; on the contrary, to many temperaments, my own among the number, it is far less difficult to engage in a new and exciting work, like the one we were then entering on, than to pursue the uneventful monotony of daily doing good at home.

There were from eight hundred to a thousand sick and wounded in the hospital when we arrived at Smyrna, and death was very busy amongst them. The division which fell to my lot had from sixty to eighty patients; and I must say I felt a little strange just at first, on finding myself the only female, save my nurse, among so many sick soldiers. But how soon self is forgotten, when you are in the midst of sickness and suffering, and know that people are depending on you for relief! The fear, horror, and disgust which would probably affect an inactive spectator, have not the smallest place in your mind, and you have but one feeling left-pity, and a desire to alleviate pain.

Shortly after we commenced our duties, one of the ladies was seized with fever. She felt so ill, she was obliged to leave the chapel, and continued so for several days, till towards the end of the week, when she became worse, and the following Friday her life was despaired of. I cannot sufficiently do justice to the unwearied care and kindness of Miss P, who occupied the same room with her, and who attended on and nursed her night and day, and that without any assistance; for there was but one female servant in the house, who remained only for some hours each day, and there were so many of the nurses already laid up, that it was thought inadvisable to take one of them from the hospital. We all, of course, volunteered our services; but up to Friday, when over-fatigue compelled Miss Pto give in, and Miss K- and I took the nightwork, she did everything herself.

It was a terrible night. I had never before sat face to face alone with death, and any moment I felt might be Miss A's last. She, however, lived, but for several days in the same critical state, having one or two convulsive fits, which we thought must have carried her off,

One very painful feature in this fever is a habit

was really We did not

the patients have (particularly if women) of making a noise, when under delirium, something between screaming, singing, and yelling-beginning rather low, and getting louder and louder, till at last it becomes a perfect shout. This continues some time, and is most distressing to listen to: in this case it was indeed very bad. At last the critical night arrived, and never shall I forget it. The fever was that called 'the twenty-one-day fever,' and the doctors gave us hope that if she survived this night she might recover, and that we must above all be careful not to disturb the least tendency to sleep we might observe, and not to rouse her for the purpose of giving nourishment, as we had hitherto done. Miss P and I, after having moved our patient, and made her as comfortable as we could, sat silent and still, about the middle of the night, fancying we saw an inclination to sleep. The appearance continuing for some time, by common consent we rose, and leaving the room-door open, went down a few steps which led out of the sick-room to a small passage over the stable: here we heard the slightest movement in the room, and had a breath of fresh air: while we fancied, if Miss A asleep, she would be better without us. speak for a few minutes; but at last, almost in a whisper, one said, 'Do you think she will live?' Before the other could answer, a sound, the most melancholy and unearthly that can be conceived, came from-we could not tell where; it seemed close beside us, and yet at a distance also. We sprang up, and listened with beating hearts for a repetition of the sound; but all was silent. We went up the steps to look at the occupant of the bed, but she seemed tranquilly asleep, so we returned, and sat down in silence; each, no doubt, being full of her own superstitious thoughts and forebodings. These, however, were wearing away, and again some remark was made, which immediately called forth that dismal, melancholy sound; but this time it was repeated twice; and I could hardly help shouting with nervous laughter, for I remembered a great horned owl, a pet of one of the servants, which had been rather indisposed that day, and I had myself seen it shut into its night-quarters, the stable, which was immediately under us. So our ghost story ended like most other ghost stories, and the next day Miss A was better, and on the twentieth was pronounced out of danger. I regret, however, to add, that Miss P- suffered severely, and still suffers, from her great and unremitting exertions.

It was a very fortunate thing that the room occupied by Miss A was one on the upper flat of the house, and in a part completely away from the pestilential atmosphere which affected the lower rooms and other parts of it. At this time the nurses were suffering much from typhus fever; six of them were laid up, Mrs Hely, Mrs Church, Mrs Paxton, Mrs Barker, Mrs Edwards, and Drusilla Smyth. The latter had been taken ill some time before Miss A, and continued long wavering between life and death, her youth and good constitution doing strong battle for the mastery. The loud screaming I have mentioned as accompanying this fever was very painful in her case; indeed, it was a sad one altogether. She had not at all spared herself, poor thing! but was ever willing and anxious to take night or any other work, even out of her turn, and eager to oblige in every way, and at this time, several of the nurses ailing, she volunteered to take their night duty often, and no doubt over-fatigued

herself. Her symptoms were sometimes so favourable, that good hopes were entertained of her recovery, then a relapse, and this went on for some days, till, notwithstanding the care of Dr Barclay, who attended on the nurses, and the unwearied and unremitting attention of the Misses Le Mshe sunk, and on the nineteenth of April died, and was buried that evening at six o'clock, in the Protestant burial-ground of the town. None of us, I am sure, will easily forget that funeral. We all assembled in the hospital-yard at five o'clock, and were marshalled into a procession of two and two: first went a double file of soldiers, the chaplains; then the orderlies carrying the coffin, which had a black velvet pall with a white border thrown over it; then the nurses, some as pall-bearers, in their black cloaks and hoods; after them the lady volunteers; and lastly, the doctors, surgeons, commissariat and other officers, followed by Dr Meyer and General Storks. It was a sad and striking scene, to witness this train slowly winding through the long narrow streets of Smyrna; while groups of Franks, Greeks, Armenians, Turks, and Jews, stood looking on, but all in silence and with apparent respect, some (not the Turks of course) even taking off their hats as we passed. A year ago such a scene would not have been permitted to proceed unmolested.

The Protestant burial-ground is a dismal-looking, neglected spot. It was chosen from an idea that Drusilla's friends at home might prefer it to the open hill where the soldiers lay; but, if there had been time for consideration and inspection, it would have been otherwise arranged; for the appearance of the place struck a chill to our hearts-it looked so 'dank and dreary,' with the grass more than a foot high, and the weeds towering above it; and either from its being close to the bay, and the porous nature of the soil, or from some other cause not ascertained by me, the grave which had been dug in the forenoon was almost filled with water; and on the words, Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God,' we heard the coffin splash, with a dismal sound, into the more than half-full grave. There was a general regret, afterwards, that this burialground had been chosen, though it was with the best intention the error had been committed; but poor Drusilla will not sleep the less soundly! And we all agreed, on leaving her grave, that whoever of us was next called to die, should be buried on the hill, in the spot allotted to the poor soldiers, open and unprotected as it was. Death seemed very near to us then; we had already lost two orderlies, and many of the nurses were lying at the gates of de ith. Miss A had made an almost miraculous escape, and was not yet out of danger from relapse. The first gap had been made in our immediate party; and who could tell whether she might not be the next?

The evening was closing fast as we returned, some in caïques, and others walking, solemnly and sadly; for besides the feeling naturally attending such a scene, we all regretted poor Drusilla, who, although she had not been long among us, was so obliging and anxious to be of use. She was a good-looking young woman, and immediately on her arrival had become the object of attraction to one of the purveyor's clerks, whose attentions she, however, most steadily declined. He still persisted in showing the most extraordinary attachment to her; and during her illness was in such a state of excitement and distress, as to be utterly incapacitated to attend to his duties properly. He used to sit on the stairs

leading to her room, in the hopes of seeing some one who could tell him how she was, and went perpetually to the passage outside her room, entreating of the Misses Le M- who generally sat up with her, to let him in to see her: this they refused till the night of her death, when she was quite insensible and past all hope of recovery; so that his visit could do her no harm. He stayed a few minutes, and looked his last on her; for in the morning, at seven o'clock, she died. I never shall forget his face when he came to my store-room, in accordance with his duty, to correct some inaccuracy in the diet-roll. He seemed utterly bewildered with sorrow; and Miss S-, who had also cccasion to speak to him, said she never saw grief so strongly marked in a human face. He insisted on following her remains to the grave, as chief mourner, and wearied himself carrying the coffin. No one interfered with him; for all seemed to think he had acquired the right, by his unmistakeable affection, to perform these sad offices: and the lady superintendent, moved by his sorrow, allowed him to retain a ring of some small value which she had been accustomed to wear.

Fever, which appeared in almost every ward, was indeed most deadly and severe. D, a soldier of the 34th, who had been acting as orderly (and who, I heard, had been a most hard-working and attentive one), suddenly sickened, and his case very rapidly assumed the worst form. He had been seized in the orderlies' room, and for a day remained there; but was afterwards removed to one of my wards, on the basement-floor. I never saw any one so suddenly and utterly prostrated: it seemed almost hopeless to attempt to do anything for him; and so, I suspect, the surgeon thought; for, giving general instructions, he left me to do pretty much as I pleased. I remember so well what an intense desire possessed me to prolong that man's life. He was in the stage of fever in which it is necessary to give constant stimulants and nourishment if possible; but that, in general, they will not take, except perhaps a mouthful at a time of beef-tea; indeed, they are very unwilling to take anything, and dislike being roused from their lethargic state; but it must be done, or they would slumber on into that lethargy from which in this world there is no awaking; so every five or ten minutes I used to pour restoratives, a very small quantity at a time, down poor D-'s throat, who swallowed it with many a groan-being just able to swallow, and no more. This went on all day; and at night Mr Coote kindly walked with me to the hospital, to see how he was, and to recommend him to the especial care of the nurse and orderly who were to sit up with him. Three or four doctors were standing round his bed all said there was not a vestige of hope; and I went away with a heavy heart, charging both nurse and orderly to give him perpetual stimulants -which they must have done, for by the morning he had nearly finished a bottle of brandy.

Next day, at an early hour, I stood at the door of the ward. How my heart beat! I had seen no one who could tell me whether he was alive or dead. At last I summoned courage, and went in, when I saw two orderlies standing by the bed, and Dstretched on it-but whether alive or dead, I could not tell, though he looked more like the latter. There I stood at the door, literally unable to move, until the orderly who had been up all night turned round and saw me: a smile broke over his face, as he exclaimed, 'All right, ma'am! Jem's alive!' I