mation of the stomach, made such an impression on the minds, and so excited the fears of many, we are told, as to have greatly multiplied the cases in Paris at the time. Doctor John Hunter attributed the heart-disease, by which he ultimately died in a fit of passion, to his fear of having caught hydrophobia while dissecting the body of a patient who died of that disease. When Corvisart lectured at Paris on the heart, affections of that organ, whether real or imaginary, were greatly multiplied. He agrees with Testa, another writer on the same subject, that the feelings have great influence in changing the natural action of the heart, and producing disorder. The latter author considered the powerful and irregular operations of the passions as the most frequent cause of organic disease of the heart; which explains why this complaint was so much more common in Italy during seasons of political agitation, and especially in France at the time of the Revolution, than at any other period. The French Journal of Medicine records the case of an aged female, who, from agitation and

fright, became black as a negro, from head to foot in a few hours. The same cause whitened the hair on half the head of a patient in the Pennsylvania Hospital, and on the whole head of Marie Antoinette, wife of Louis XVI., in a single night.

A correspondent of the London Medical Times, writing from India, February 19, 1858, says that a Sepoy of the Bengal army, having been made a prisoner, was brought before the authorities for examination. The man trembled violently; intense horror and despair were depicted on his face, and he seemed to be almost stupified with fear. The writer, who was present, adds, that within the space of half an hour his hair became gray on every portion of his head. "When first seen by us, it was the glossy jet-black of the Bengalee; his age was twenty-four. The attention of the bystanders was first attracted by the Sergeant, whose prisoner he was, exclaiming, ‘he is turning gray!' and I, with several other persons, watched its progress. Gradually, but decidedly, the change went on, and a uniform gray

colour was completed within the period above named."

A few years ago two young men attempted to rob an eagle's nest, high up on a cliff on the bank of the Hudson river, but several feet below the summit. One of them was let down in a basket, suspended by a rope, till he came opposite the nest. The eagle returned to protect her young, and in endeavouring to defend himself against her talons, the young man drew his knife, and in the contest accidentally cut all the strands of the rope but one. Meantime his companion was drawing him up to the summit, but he was so affected by fear at his perilous condition, that the next day his hair became as hoary as that of an old man.

The following case may be adduced, not merely for the illustration of our subject, but for the wholesome warning that it suggests against the vice of which it is a monitory register. A young man, twenty-three years old, came from the mines to San Francisco, with the intention of soon leaving the latter place for home. On the evening- of his arrival, he,

with his companions, visited the gambling saloons. After watching for a time the varied fortunes of a table, supposed to be undergoing the process of "tapping," from the continued success of those betting against the bank, the excitement overcame his better judgment, and he threw upon the "seven-spot" of a new deal, a bag which he said contained eleven hundred dollars-his all-the result of two years' privation and hard labour-exclaiming, with a voice trembling from intense excitement, “My home, or the mines!" As the dealer slowly resumed the drawing of his cards, his countenance, livid with fear of the inevitable fate that seems ever attendant upon the tapping process when once commenced, the writer, who was present, says: "I turned my eyes upon the young man who had staked his whole gains upon a card. Never shall I forget the impression made by his look of intense anxiety as he watched the cards as they fell from the dealer's hands. All the energies of his system seemed concentrated in the fixed gaze of his eyes, while the deadly pallor of his face bespoke the subdued action of his

heart. All around seemed infected with the sympathetic powers of the spell; even the hitherto successful winners forgot their own stakes in the hazardous chance placed upon the issue of the bet. The cards are slowly told with the precision of high-wrought excitement. The seven-spot wins-the spell is broken-reaction takes place. The winner exclaims, with a deep-drawn sigh, 'I will never gamble again!' and was carried from the room in a deep swoon, from which he did not fully recover until the next morning; and then to know that the equivalent surrendered for his gain was the colour of his hair, now changed to a perfect white!" Not less sudden, nor less calamitous often, are the effects of

GRIEF. Father Chrysostom describes it as "a cruel torture of the soul, consuming the body, and gnawing the very heart." Melancthon says, "it strikes the heart, makes it flutter and pine away in great pain." It was believed that Philip V. of Spain died suddenly by the breaking of his heart on hearing of the hopeless defeat of his army near Plaisance. Dr.