of his care. He was the Great Pilot who steered all our ships over the ocean; and, though dead, he yet liveth, and speaketh, and acteth, in the recorded wisdom of his invaluable book. The world has been the wiser and the happier that he has lived in it. He has left an example full of instruction and encouragement to the young, and especially to those among them who are struggling with poverty and difficulties. He has shewn them that poverty is no dishonour, and need be no hinderance; that the greatest obstacles may be surmounted by persevering industry and an indomitable will. He has shewn them to what heights of greatness and glory they may ascend, by truth, temperance, and toil. Above all, Dr. Bowditch has left us a most glorious and precious legacy in his example of integrity, love of truth, moral courage, and independence. He has taught the young men here, and the world over, that there is nothing so grand and beautiful as moral principle, nothing so sublime as adherence to truth, and right, and duty, through good report and through evil report. He has, indeed, blessed the world greatly by his science and his practical wisdom; but quite as much, nay, far more, I think, by his upright and manly character. He has taught mankind that reverence for duty, and trust in Providence, and submission to His will, and faith in the rectitude of all His appointments, and a filial reliance upon His love, are sentiments not unworthy nor unbecoming the greatest philosopher. For this we honour and eulogize him; not for wealth, title, fortune,-those miserable outsides and trappings of humanity, but for the qualities of the inner man, which still live, and will live for ever. He studied the stars on the earth-may he not now be tracking their courses through the heavens? Long ere this, perhaps, he knows all the beauties and the mysteries of their tangled mazes-has examined the rings of Saturn and the belts of Jupiter, traversed the milky way, and chased the comet through infinity. Methinks I hear his departing and ascending spirit exclaiming, as it wings its flight upwards, in the language of the beautiful hymn :"Ye golden lamps of heaven! farewell, With all your feeble light : And thou, refulgent orb of day! In brighter flames array'd, My soul, which springs beyond thy sphere, Ye stars are but the shining dust The pavement of those heav'nly courts, The Father of eternal light Shall there its beams display; Nor shall one moment's darkness mix With that unvaried day." HEALTH Popular Statistics. OF THE POLICE, AND THE METRO- [Ar the request of the "Vital Statistics" Committee of the London Statistical Society, the Commissioners of the Metropolitan Police have made ample returns of the sickness and mortality experienced by the force under their charge, from its institution to the end of the year 1838; whence the following facts have been deduced:] The Metropolitan Police Force was embodied in the year 1830, and had subsisted eight entire years at the end of the year 1838. The average strength of the force during the eight years was 3,314, the numbers being very nearly stationary throughout the whole period. This force is distributed in seventeen divisions, distinguished by different letters of the alphabet, each being attached to a particular locality or district of London. The strength of each division averages 195 men: the smallest division is that of Whitehall (A), consisting of 116 men; the largest is that of Stepney (K), consisting of 290 men. In order to maintain the average strength of 3,314 men, it is found necessary to recruit annually as many as 1,100 new members, the vacancies being created by 1,068, who are removed or retire from the force, and thirty-two who die, every year. The average duration of the service of each policeman is consequently three years. The average age at which the men enter is 28 years; about two-thirds enter between the ages of twenty to thirty-one, and the remainder, with a very few exceptions, enter between the ages of thirtyone and thirty-five years. The few who have been admitted above that age, were chiefly old officers who were attached to the police offices before the formation of the Metropolitan force. The proportional numbers retiring at different ages agree very nearly with the proportions admitted at the same ages; at least, such is the case, if the ascertained ages of the 1,029 men, who retired in the single year 1838, correspond with the ages of retirement in other years, which may be presumed to be most probable. The average number of annual deaths which occurred among the Metropolitan Police, during the eight years over which the observation extends, was thirty-two; the average strength during the same time having been 3,314 men, the annual rate of mortality was consequently 97 per cent., or very nearly one per cent. The average age of the men being thirty years, the mortality which they suffer is very moderate, and does not exceed that of the general population of England at the same age. The mortality of the general population of London at the same age is thirty per cent. greater than that just mentioned. Considering, however, the manner in which the police force is constituted, there exists no ground for presuming that the circumstances in which they are placed are more favourable to life than the circumstances of the general population of London. It must be borne in mind that the police force is a select body; the men are first chosen as being of sound and vigorous health, and the force is afterwards kept select, by frequent discharges of men shewing symptoms of impaired health or strength. Hence the health of the men entering the police force is above the average; and the tendency to fall towards the general average of health is counteracted, by discharging all the less healthy members. The amount of bodily labour required from each individual of the police force is very considerable: he has to walk twenty miles every day in going his rounds, besides being obliged to attend charges at the police offices, the labour of which may be estimated as equal to walking five miles more-in all twenty-five miles a day. During two months out of every three, each police constable is on night duty, for nine hours each night, from nine o'clock in the evening to six o'clock in the morning. The labour thus demanded of the police is considered by many as excessive, and detrimental to their health; such may be the fact, although the amount of sickness suffered by the police force (consisting of select lives) does not sensibly differ from that which is found to exist among the general population of London at the same age. The chief information contained in the present police returns, relates to the sickness suffered by the members. In these returns are separately stated, for each division of the police force, the number of days of sickness suffered during each month of the eight years, from 1831 to 1838. The results deducible from these statements may aid in determining the relative healthiness of the districts to which the different divisions are attached, as well as the relative healthiness of the different months of the year. According to the present returns, out of the seventeen districts to which the several divisions are attached, the most healthy are those of Whitehall, Westminster, and Kensington; and the least healthy are those of Holborn, Finsbury, and Hampstead. Throughout the eight years observed, in the total police force, without distinction of divisions or districts, the average amount of sickness suffered by each man in one year was 10 days; hence the proportion of the total force constantly sick is equal to 23 per cent. In the least healthy districts above-mentioned, the average yearly sickness to each man was 12 days. In the three most healthy districts, there were only 63 days of sickness yearly to each man. The proportion of sickness in these three last-mentioned districts is, however, so much lower than that of any other district, without any apparent cause, that it would be premature to conclude, without further information, that the salubrity of these districts was proportional to the low degree of sickness suffered by the police located therein. The apparently high salubrity of these districts might be supposed to be consequent on some peculiar circumstance in the constitution or service of the force resident within their limits; but the Commissioners of Police expressly state that no such circumstances exist. With regard to the healthiness of different months or seasons of the year, the present returns afford some valuable information. The maximum sickness is suffered in the month of January, the minimum sickness in the month of June or July; the maximum being to the minimum in the proportion of more than three to two. The progressive increase or decrease of sickness from month to month is sufficiently regular when no epidemics supervene, the sickness generally increasing as the temperature of the month decreases. On viewing the table of sickness formed from the monthly aggregates of the four years 1835-38, we might be justified in drawing the following conclusion, that in healthy years, not distinguished for epidemic disease, the sickness of the police force is at a minimum at the end of the month of June; and that the sickness increases uniformly throughout the six months, measured backwards or forwards from the last day of June. The disturbing effect of the usual epidemical diseases, on the above presumed law of sickness, is to elevate considerably the maximum for January, and to elevate, in a minor degree, the relative sickness of the months of April and August. It is doubtful whether the relative healthiness of the different months of the year, is the same among the general population as in the police force. The general population being less exposed to the influence of temperature, it appears probable one that their sickness will not depend so much on temperature as does the sickness of the police. From the experience of of the largest London Benefit Societies during four years, it is found that the maximum quarterly sickness occurs in the three months, January, February, and March, and that the minimum occurs in the three months, May, June, and July. These results for London artisans do not differ materially from the results deduced from the present police returns, and we may safely draw the conclusion, that the relative sickness of any month for the general population is greatly dependant on the temperature of that month. Scientific Facts. POLARIZATION OF LIGHT BY LIVING Mr. J. F. GODDARD having observed that the scurf-skin of the human subject, sections of human teeth, the finger nails, bones of fishes, &c. possessed the polarizing property, he was led to examine some living objects with his polariscope, when he discovered that, among many others, the larvæ and pupa of a tipulidan gnat (the Corethra plumicornis), possessed the same property, and that in a very eminent degree. Its existence in the different substances above enumerated, is exceedingly important; but that it should also exist in living animals is infinitely more so, and opens a new field altogether, disclosing characters that lead to an intimate knowledge of their anatomy, and which cannot possibly be discovered by any other means. This creature is found in large clear ponds, generally in great abundance when met with; but this is by no means common. Having constructed a water-trough, made with two slips of glass about 1.25 inch wide and two inches long, with very narrow slips of thin glass cemented with Canada balsam between them, at the bottom and sides, thus having it open at one end with about 0.050 of an inch space between in the middle, Mr. Goddard filled it with clear water, in which he placed some of the larvæ; and such was the extraordinary transparency of the creature, as to display, in a most beautiful manner, the whole of its internal structure and organisation; and which, when viewed in polarized light, present the most splendid appearances. Thus, when they place themselves with their head and tail both in the plane of primitive polarization, or in a plane at right angles to it, they have no action upon the light transmitted through them; but when in a plane in clined 45 deg. to the plane of polarization, the light is depolarized, their whole bodies becoming illuminated in the most brilliant manner, varying in intensity according to their size, and the nature of the different parts and substances; the peculiar interlacing of the muscles marking out regular divisions, which, as the creature changes its position with regard to the plane of polarization, exhibit all the varied hues and brilliant tints that have rendered this important branch of physical optics exceedingly interesting. And, while thus viewing them, if we place behind a thin plate of sulphate of lime or mica, the change and play of colours, as the creature moves, are greatly increased, and are surpassingly beautiful. These phenomena in the larvæ of the Corethra plumicornis are seen, if possible, in a more splendid manner, in the spawn of many large fishes; but more particularly in the young fishes themselves, many of which, in their early state, are equally transparent, particularly those of marine production. Mr. Goddard has lately exhibited these striking experiments to the Zoological Society; and has communicated them to the Philosophical Magazine for the current month. SIR WM. GARRARD'S MONUMENT, IN DORNEY CHURCH. THERE is no track of our "merrie greenwode" more associated with the bygone romances of English history, than the fair and smiling piece of country, which the forest of Windsor formerly covered with its leafy shade. The blood stained pages that chronicle the annals of the Tower of London, while they add to the importance of its antiquity, have left a painful interest attached to its ancient walls: but Windsor Castle is connected by stories of a brighter hue, with the records of the past-by legends of royal love and courtly splendour-by traditions rather of the palace than the prison. And proudly does the noble castle rise above the surrounding foliage. Many, many years have rolled on since the Norman William first commenced its stately elevation; and much of the wooded country that surrounded it, has yielded to civilization and improvement: the fern coverts of the timid deer have been rooted up for the habitations of man, and to the labour of the axe has succeeded that of the ploughshare; but there are the same fine trees still flourishing around the castle walls, that were witnesses of their first elevation, and which doubtless spread their shadows over our early fair-haired scions of royalty, as they played in childhood beneath them. Within a walk of Windsor, and situated on the opposite bank of the Thames, is the humble village of Dorney. It has little attraction for the casual passer-by, beyond that of being a perfect sample of an English village. There is its broad verdant blowy common, with the surrounding farms and white cottages; and its ancient ancestral church, embosomed in a grove of trees, whose green branches sweep above the tower, with the patriarchal rooks cowing about it, and flying in and out the windows of its old belfry. There is also its old manor-house, or court, adjoining the church; together with its one inn, bearing the arms of the family' for a sign. And Dorney-court is not a modern building, but a perfect old English home, probably first erected when the grapes clustered round the now ruinous walls of the adjacent abbey of Burnham, of whose last abbot the jolly rubicund visage still hangs in the lofty hall, in company with many other portraits of family interest; and then each subsequent possessor built a room in one place, and pulled down a wall in another, until it would be difficult to tell what the proper aspect of the house was originally intended to be. In a small chapel attached to the northern end of the church, is an old monument to the memory of Sir Wm. Garrard, his lady, and their twenty-four children. Martha, one of his daughters, married Sir James Palmer, "Knight of the Bedchamber to King James I., gentleman of the Privy-Chamber to Charles I., and Chancellor of the most noble order of the Garter." This lady died, leaving Sir Philip Palmer of Dorney, who carried on the line of descent to the present family; and then Sir James married Lady Vaughan, by whom he had Roger Palmer, Earl of Castlemain, and husband of the celebrated Barbara Villiers, subsequently the proud, beautiful, and revengeful Duchess of Cleveland. The monument is of marble, and was formerly painted and gilded, in the false taste of the time; but now the decorations are fast decaying. Only the effigies of sixteen of the children remain, which are in relief; and the armour of Sir William was once hung on brackets round the tomb. The helmet is still there, and appears to have been handsomely inlaid; but it is rusty with age and damp; the other pieces have disappeared by degrees, probably through other means than the gradual thefts of time. A visit to this relic of other days during last Spring, suggested the homely verses that follow: A ray of noontide's sunshine bright On the old marble mildly gleaming. To welcome back fair smiling May. A spirit gay is bounding: Their notes of joy are sounding. Long number'd with the dead; And graven pair by pair; To picture them once more on earth, As Chaucer sang of old; To the world's pleasures cold. To that fair girl, in former times, Perchance they wore her scarf or glove, When, in their mimic wars, Adown the forest glade ; And picture now the worthy sire, |