It is gratifying to know that H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, Field-Marshal Commanding-in-Chief, in conjunction with the Secretary of State for War and the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, have decided to allow the soldiers and sailors in Her Majesty's service, who may receive a medal of the Society for any act of bravery performed in saving life, to wear such medal side by side with other marks of distinction that may have been gained on service.

During the year 1877 the lives of 310 persons were saved, and 254 persons were voted the Society's rewards-the Stanhope gold medal (awarded to the most praiseworthy case), twenty silver medals, seventy-four bronze medals, four bronze clasps, seventy vellum testimonials, forty-five parchment testimonials, and forty pecuniary rewards.

Take one other example of every-day heroism, although the subject is one to which we have more than once alluded in the course of this work.

The scene is in Margate-the every-day town of Margate. But there are no little children paddling in the surf, no niggers singing on the shore, for it is winter-time, and the sky is dull and leaden. The sea has been lying still and listless for some days, but on this day a sailor says, as he looks at the falling glass, "There'll be some white water on the Goodwins to-night." The day passes, and every hour the wind grows in intensity, until it is blowing a gale, which shrieks through the town, and makes the devout say, as they close their shutters for the evening, "God help the poor fellows at sea!"

Night advances, and an anxious throng is congregated at a spot every visitor to Margate knows the life-boat house, where is kept the Quiver life-boat, purchased by the voluntary contributions of the readers of the "Quiver," and placed there for the saving of life on those treacherous Goodwin Sands, so often gazed upon by holiday-makers at that gay watering-place. For the watchers on the shore have seen, through the pale moonlight, signal rockets of distress thrown high in the air in the neighbourhood of the Goodwins; and British love and British charity have provided the means of answering that mournful signal of the drowning.

Soon through the moonlight there is a procession, followed by an eager throng: a white car on light wheels. It is the Quiver life-boat, soon to be launched upon those roaring billows which break with thundering sound upon the shore.

Watch the crew. Calmly and steadily the brave fellows gird on their life-belts, and sit in the boat, oars in hand, waiting for the signal for the life-boat to run down to the water's edge. "All ready?" "Ay, ay;" and away into the foam and spray rushes the messenger of mercy. Soon it is seen riding on the billows, then sinking with the waves, and eager eyes strain to watch it, until, in the growing darkness, it disappears from view.

It seems as if the whole fishing population of the town stood there waiting in suspense, their practised eyes watching, as gleams of moonlight stream over the sea, the distressed bark as she drives farther and farther on to the fatal sands.

An hour passes away, and it is reported that the life-boat is nearing the ship. A coastguardsman with a good glass, and a steady hand to use it, thinks he can see the

rigging of the fated vessel crowded with men clinging for life. "Poor dears," says a woman in the crowd with tears in her voice, "and such a biting cold night too; it's a wonder if they won't be too numbed with cold and fear to throw a line to the boat."

Another hour passes, and another, yet there is no sign of the life-boat; no voices are borne upon the air; only once or twice, as the clouds drift for a moment from before the face of the moon, it is reported that the brig is still visible. Then a buzz of voices is heard, and then the crowd relapses into silence, for a wreck is a thing that nobody ever gets used to, any more than an earthquake in countries subject to their recurrence. For among the crowd are wives and mothers, and sisters and brothers, and perchance some stalwart boys waiting for father's return.

So passes the weary night to the watchers on the shore. Terrible has that night been to the shipwrecked mariners and to the crew of the life-boat. Weeping has endured for the night, but joy cometh in the morning, for lo! at dawn there is seen a speck on the dancing waves. It is the life-boat, crowded with rescued men, saved despite the angry waves which swept clean over the fated bark-saved to a man, although the fate of each seemed hopeless; and as the life-boat enters the harbour a thousand voices raise a cheer such as comes only from men who have been spell-bound with anxious

suspense.

Thank God for the noble heroic fellows who dwell in every seaport on our coast ready to help the perishing; and thank God for the philanthropy of those subscribers to the Quiver who, not only at Margate, but at other dangerous places on the coastSouthwold and Cork-have provided boats for the saving of life at sea.

Small-pox-Edward Jenner-Bethlehem Hospital-Treatment of Lunatics-Haslar Hospital-Progress in Medical ScienceJohn Fothergill-William Hunter-Thomas Bateman-James Hope-Down a Well-Edward Bartlett, Surgeon, to the Rescue!-Naval Duel between the Kearsage and Alabama-Noble Heroism of David Herbert LlewellynHeroic Philanthropy-Sir Alexander Armstrong-Scurvy in the Polar Regions-In the Merchant Service-Michael Faraday-His Character and Work-Mary Somerville-Her Ceaseless Work-The Higher Education of WomenJames David Forbes - A Resolution - Among the Glaciers - Buried Cities and Modern Discoveries - Charles F. Tyrrwhitt Drake-In the Desert-Faithful unto Death.

NLY a century ago small-pox was the most dreadful scourge of the human race. Whole towns and cities were not infrequently half depopulated by its ravages. In the Russian Empire it is said to have swept away 2,000,000 in a single year. It was calculated that in Europe 210,000 annually fell victims to it. The average of deaths from the disease was estimated at one in five, while of the survivors they were subject to other diseases, such as scrofula, chronic ophthalmia, or pulmonary consumption. In the London Asylum for the Indigent Blind three-fourths

of the persons there relieved had lost their sight through small-pox.

Edward Jenner, a pupil of the celebrated John Hunter, directed his attention to this important subject at an early period of his career, and the first glimpse of the matter came to him in a curious way. During his apprenticeship a young country-woman applied for advice, and the subject of small-pox being casually mentioned in her presence, she remarked, "I cannot take that disease, for I have had cow-pox." His attention was arrested; he made inquiries, and found that it was a popular notion in the district that milkers who had been infected with a peculiar eruption which sometimes occurred on the udder of the cow were completely secure against the small-pox. From this time forth he pursued his inquiries, mentioned the facts he had collected to John Hunter and others, but everywhere, as the idea of a great discovery impressed itself more strongly upon him, he became the subject of ridicule. At the meetings of a medical club he attended, the members sportively threatened to expel him if he continued to bother them with his hobby. For years Jenner patiently pursued the subject, making diligent

(After the Sculpture by Professor Monteverde, of Rome, exhibited in the Paris Exposition of 1878.)

and searching investigations, uncheered by the least encouragement from any member of the medical profession. At length his studies resulted in decisive experiment. On the 14th of May, 1796, a boy aged eight years was vaccinated with matter taken from the hands of a milkmaid. He passed through the disorder in a satisfactory manner, and was inoculated for small-pox on the 1st of July following without the least effect.

An extensive series of experiments followed this first attempt, and raised a storm about the ears of Jenner. He met with ridicule, opposition, defamation; severe and unmerited reproaches were cast upon him by enemies, and his friends deserted him. “The persecutions of Galileo," says Dr. Baron, his biographer, "would, I believe, have been eclipsed in their monstrous and outrageous hostility to the splendid discoveries of that illustrious man, by some of the opponents of vaccination, had the spirit of the age or their own power enabled them to carry their designs into execution." Still, he bore up against the tide of opposition, although his sensitive nature shrank from the ordeal through which he was called to pass. At last he was rewarded by receiving from upwards of seventy of the leading physicians and surgeons in London a declaration of their confidence in his views as published in his able memoir, "An Enquiry into the Causes and Effects of the Variola Vaccine."

Till the day of his death he never relaxed his efforts to spread the knowledge of his discovery, not for the sake of gain, but from motives of pure benevolence. And through

his heroic labours, by his own unaided intellect and industry, Edward Jenner became the means of blessing every civilised nation under the sun, by prolonging human life and averting the ravages of the most fearful disease to which the human race was subject.

In former times, but only a generation or two ago, the treatment of lunatics was a terrible disgrace to our country. Insane persons were looked upon as little better than wild beasts; in fact, when Horace Walpole told his friend Mann about the fears excited in London by the Lord George Gordon riots, he said, "They threaten to let the lions out of the tower, and the madmen out of Bedlam."

It is well known that only a hundred years ago the miserable inmates of Bethlehem or Bedlam Hospital were exhibited to holiday-makers on payment of two-pence, and that the inhuman spectators endeavoured to provoke the wretched patients into rage to make them sport, much as malicious people now-a-days seek to irritate the animals in wildbeast shows and zoological gardens.

In those days the most cruel expedients were resorted to in the treatment of the insane, and every kind of mechanical restraint was invented and put into constant use. Victims were chained to their beds for years without covering or apparel; they were herded together without any regard to the different stages of disease or of their social position; no steps whatever were taken to employ the patients, and enforced idleness in many cases only increased the virulence of the mental disease.

Within the last fifty years the state of affairs has been wholly changed; now, occupation and amusements of all kinds are provided; there are asylums and wards of asylums