"old school," is at once obviated. Many of our readers will no doubt recollect the epigram on that eminent practitioner of his day, J. Lettsom: "If any body comes to I,

I physics, bleeds, and sweats 'em;

If after that they choose to die,

Why, what care I! I let's 'em!"

Encouraging array, verily, for suffering humanity! Physic is no doubt admirable in its way, but always special in its action, and nearly always reactionary. Bleeding has now no apologists, and we will not enter the field in its favour. But the sweating, or the recurrence to the violated law of outraged nature-no matter how ignorantly or with what waste of vital power and energy effected—seems to have been the one grain of sense in the great barnful of waste and chaff and rubbish of the day.

The characteristic of most ailments of our time is admitted to be want of tone or energy (by whatever name it may be called); and this "Practice" endeavours to regain by tonics and stimulants-how imperfectly, we leave the sufferers to declare:

"'Tis life whereof our limbs are scant;

More life and fuller that we want."

And this heat, judiciously applied, will effect far better than any stimulants or tonics within our reach at present; and by strengthening all the organs of the frame, will do away with the false craving for such artificial power, restoring appetite to its normal, or, in other words, its natural condition. How true was Mr. Squeer's invocation of nature, when he said, "Nature is a holy thing! What a blessed thing it is to be in a state of nature!"

It was our intention to have quoted extracts from the writings of such authorities as Sir J. Fife, Dr. E. Wilson, and Dr. Gosse of Geneva, in support of the eulogium which, in common with nearly all who have given it a fair trial, we have been compelled to pay to the bath; but as they are all in one key, and relate but one result to their experiences of its application to human suffering, we prefer suggesting the perusal of the Manual of the Bath to any who may light on these pages, convinced that the eloquent advocacy of the subject contained there, and the graphic pictures of the luxurious sensations and actual pleasure gained there, will induce a trial; and trial will, we venture to predict, involve repetition, and repetition grow into a habit; and with the habit will come, we believe, to every well-directed mind, the wish to extend its benefits, not to the rich so much-for it is brought within their compass-but to the poor, to whom, in many cases, the habit of taking Turkish Baths would have almost a regenerating influence; for the habit of bathing involves almost as a corollary cleanliness in the widest acceptation of the term, a sense of personal dignity, coupled with a sense of what is due to others, the expression of which, in conduct and manner, is

politeness; and these habits, when developed, are incompatible with the drunkenness which now so fearfully degrades our poor and diminishes the sources of our national wealth, though an overflowing Excise may for the moment gladden the heart of the financier. There is no limit hardly to the wealth intrusted to individuals in this country; and how nobly the trust has been fulfilled our colossal charities, which embrace almost all conditions of men, abundantly testify; and the princely offerings which have been poured into the treasury opened by the Bishop of London for the relief of the spiritual destitution of this metropolis shows that the fountains of benevolence are by no means exhausted, but only require a well-directed object. Here seems one which has only recently been revived, but which nearly two thousand years ago was the special object of the munificent liberality of the great fortunes of the Roman Empire-the Peabodies, Gurneys, Guinnesses of their day; and we trust that Pagan Rome will not gain by comparison with Christian London.

But it requires no gift of prophecy to see that ere long this new power will be brought to bear generally on sickness, not only in this country, but in tropical regions, where yellow-fever, small-pox, and cholera cause such fearful havoc, and seem to be admirably suited for its successful exhibition. This the doctors will no doubt effect for us,quickened, we hope, and stimulated by lay enterprise and benevolence; but there is a large class of ægrotants in this country who form such a fertile theme for the caricaturing propensities of our lively neighbours d'outre Manche, and who, though not within the pale of medicine, certainly require some alleviation for their sufferings, real and imaginary: we mean the sufferers from spleen and vapours, whether the result of circumstance or of digestive powers weakened by excess; the Hamlets of society, whom man delights not, nor woman either, when the blues are in the ascendant. To such we commend the bath, as specially adapted to their malady, and certain to restore to their eyes the lost faculty of seeing things en rose instead of en noir, as it has been eminently successful with those afflicted with the worst stages of this complaint, called hypochondriasis.

But if the bath has proved an admitted success in health as a preventive, in illness as a curative, to our own species, the experiments made in our stables and homesteads on the viliora corpora of our belongings can point to even greater results. Already has Admiral Rouse, the Solon of the turf, pronounced strongly in its favour; and one winner of the Oaks can be claimed as having undergone the lustrations of the bath prior to her victory. No one acquainted with the subject can for a moment imagine that the bath will supersede training or galloping, or that it will ever give colt or filly what is technically termed "length," or the art of staying at good speed over a long distance; but in assisting skin and lungs, it will materially hasten the trainer's work, and save enormous wear and tear to joints and feet,

which are such a constant source of anxiety to stud-grooms and owners of running horses. The bath seems just now a most important consideration to all training-stables, when the victory not only of Gladiateur and Fille de l'Air, but of other French horses of late, has created an impression that in our climate the trainer has a most fearful obstacle to contend against, and that he "carries weight" in the contest; whereas the fact is, he has been, to use the Horatian metaphor, assiduously banishing Nature from his precincts, and a return to her laws will alone reinstate him in his preeminence.

The fattening of animals is essentially promoted by the bath; but in none are its effects seen so readily as in the pig, the animal which, in structure as well as taste, is said to resemble us so much that the FeeJee islanders call human flesh "long pork" in their shambles.

But it is as the best, if not the only, specific for that scourge of our high-bred cattle, "pleuro-pneumonia," whose ravages are estimated at the money valuation of 6,000,000l. per annum (and which, coupled with the new cattle-plague, has caused "a great cry" to ascend from the thrifty housewives of England), that the value and importance of the Turkish Bath will be appreciated by those who like to see every thing brought to the standard of £ s. d. We may add that, when tried on dairy farms, the result in the increase of milk has been most encouraging.

The bucolic intellect is said rather to lag behind that of other trades and professions; but, on the whole, we think the attack libellous and untrue, and we will venture to predict that in ten years we shall see a "hot-house" applied to many a homestead, when the wonderful economy of fuel, and the many advantages to man and beast that will accrue from it, are more widely known; for such is the competition for land just now, that the farmer must avail himself of all the aids which chemistry and science bring within his reach; and of these heat is one of the most important.

In conclusion, we would beg to remind the reader that, though Turkish and Oriental Baths have cropped up in all directions, our observations apply but to one in this metropolis, the Hammam in Jermyn Street, which has been specially constructed under Mr. Urquhart's superintendence, and has been pronounced perfect by Turks themselves. Mr. Urquhart is, we hear, now engaged in the construction of a Turkish Bath at his chalet on the "Mont Pearion" in Savoy, 6000 feet above sea-level.

David Chantrey.

BY W. G. WILLS,

AUTHOR OF "THE WIFE'S EVIDENCE," ETC.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE GREAT MRS. BLENHEIM!

SIR HUGH ROWLY was introduced to Milly, and placed at her side with a wave, as it were, of Mrs. Blenheim's wand. He was left alone with her he a gallant and susceptible little youth of forty-three, and she a perfect vision of striped-silk and lace.

:

Sir Hugh was formed by nature to please ladies: he was so trim, so highly manufactured, so alert, so complimentary, so wealthy, and a bachelor, all that could be desired. He beamed upon Milly with all the ease and self-complacency of nine thousand a-year and untrammelled old bachelorhood.

"What a charming woman is your mother!" he said.

"Do you not think so?" replied Milly. "I am very proud of her." "Perfectly fascinating eye! So youthful !-why, she might be your elder sister."

"So every body says," responded Milly, pleased.

"It was so nice of her to call upon Miss Masterton; so good, so like her face, in fact, to do it," said Sir Hugh, patting the back of a chair. "I should know your mother was a good woman if it were only-you will laugh at me, perhaps-if it were only by her tone of voice and that beautiful beseeching eye. She is the very counterpart of my Saint Cecilia."

Milly did not laugh at him; she grew perfectly frigid. It was not like prudery-it was deliberate rebuke of manner. When a beaming old bachelor begins to harp upon a lady's eyes, he is not to be trusted with the topic.

"You have come from the Mastertons," said she, turning the subject. "Do you think Madeline handsome?"

"Not if the old proverb be true. However, we may say, 'Handsome is that naughty does' with more truth talking of the ladies, I am afraid."

"You have a good opinion of us," said Milly, with a little curl on her lip.

"Opinion is one thing," said the elderly little Adonis. "I am, in effect, their humble slave;" and he bowed over his gold snuff-box. "Miss Masterton is a splendid creature; indeed, she has but one fault-a seri

ous one in a lady: she is not fond of-." He completed his sentence by rubbing his delicate hands together as if washing them, and shaking his head in playful horror. "And as to her studio: oh, dear! I never venture to look around me;

the crookedness, the mess! It really grieves me; for, take Madeline Masterton all in all, she is a splendid creaturea glorious instrument just a little out of tune."

"Very much out of tune," said Mrs. Blenheim promptly, having just then entered the room.

Sir Hugh rose and threatened to take to flight; he begged Mrs. Blenheim not to press him, as he was weak-very weak. He hoped to see the ladies at his place to show them his pictures, and desired to appoint a day.

Mrs. Blenheim had resolved to hold him. She first assured him that lunch was on the table, and he must have a glass of wine at least. But no; he had promised to return to the Mastertons: he thought a drive in the Park would do that poor girl good.

"Do not smile so wickedly," he said; "her papa always comes with us."

"She would not insist upon that, I daresay," said Mrs. Blenheim, resolved to keep him, no matter how she limed the twig.

"We must have charity, Mrs. Blenheim," he smiled. "Madeline Masterman has not a charming kind mother, as Miss Blenheim has, to advise and restrain her; she has instead a 'swell' papa." He waved his outspread hands over his shirt-front, as though it was beginning to puff, and he threw back the lappels of his coat.

66

"I am sorry to say, Sir Hugh, she is very much talked about; you will get quite a reputation by being seen with her. I called there this morning just to-"

"You did indeed, Mrs. Blenheim! And to that chance I owe this pleasure." He bowed over his snuff-box.

All

I shall never call again." you ladies are very hard upon

"I can assure you she was very rude. "Well, well-she is rude to me. her, and we must pardon a little temper. It is really a dooty as much as a pleasure to hover about her," smiled Sir Hugh. It was a heavenly smile.

"The innocent!" thought Mrs. Blenheim; "almost too good."

"She needs advice from such as you," said he; "now you could counsel and sympathise. I should know it by the very tones of your voice and by your eye-hem!"

Mrs. Blenheim smiled at Milly, in playful resignation to the compliment, and cheerful scepticism as to its sincerity.

"Really," said she, "Miss Masterton is quite above or below advice. The girl is bewitched; the girl is infatuated about Major de Lindesey, and we all know he is only amusing himself."

"Then her friends must rally round her, Mrs. Blenheim," said Sir Hugh, taking a very lofty moral attitude and a determined pinch of