higher rank, which occasioned a general alarm of danger, as all were then manifestly exposed to it. On that occasion I proposed to receive patients ill of typhus into separate wards of the Chester Infirmary, and to cleanse their houses from all contagious dirt. This measure has been accomplished with complete success. In this manner, typhus has been exterminated from Chester for 35 years, though frequently, as above explained, brought thither by persons infected in other places. In October 1817, Dr. Edward Percival visited the fever wards of the Chester Infirmary, where he found only two patients, and one of them was ill of an inflammation of the lungs. He asked whether there were not usually more patients in these wards, and was answered in the negative. Many towns have followed the example of Chester, in establishing fever hospitals; but, so far as I know, few or none of them have completely executed the incomparably more important regulations of cleansing the dwellings of poor patients from contagious dirt. In towns where even fever hospitals themselves are not kept clean, nor supplied with fresh air, no hope whatever can be entertained that the infectious habitations of the lower orders of people will receive the benefit of the proposed salutary purification. A most intelligent medical friend of mine viewed the fever hospital at Liverpool in October 1817, and found it so close, and smelled so offensively, as to express to me repeatedly, his apprehensions, that he had, by that visit, exposed himself to much danger of infec tion. The newspapers have since announced that a physician of this hospital, Dr. Barrow, had caught and died of a typhus fever. Dr. Carson, the other physician of this hospital, has since that time, had a fever, from which he recovered. In the same town Dr. Goldsmith and Mr. Carter, surgeon apothecary to the dispensary, have lately died of the typhus fever. These events prove how truly and how accurately an estimate of danger from infection, had been formed by my medical friend. In a Dublin hospital, containing many more patients ill of typhus, he had for 5 years attended his daily duty as a physician, without any injury or apprehension of danger, merely by requiring strict attention to cleanliness and ventilation. The Rules and Regulations, above given, do not depend upon conjecture, but on much more convincing evidence than most other kinds of medical and philosophical knowledge. They are founded upon facts, observed by myself and confirmed by the testimony of many impartial and intelligent medical witnesses; and upon the uniformity of the laws by which contagion spreads among mankind. Upon these data calculations are instituted to prove the truth of these practical principles to the high probability of hundreds, indeed many hundreds to one. These facts, and conclusions deduced from them were published in my "Letter to the late Dr. Thomas Percival, of Manchester, on the Prevention of infectious Fever, in 1801." Subsequent facts have occurred to me, which confirm the same doctrine, even to demonstration, as if health remains I purpose to explain. Being fully convinced that these Rules and Regulations, might save many lives, and preserve the lower orders of people from great wretchedness, I anxiously request that they may be copied by Editors of Newspapers, and other periodical publications, which, by the general diffusion of knowledge, are become so highly useful and honourable to this age and nation. 2 R 2 POETRY. POETRY. ELEGY. ES-Britain mourns; as with electric touch In grief spontaneous, and hard hearts are moved, Like a scathed oak amidst the forest trees, Lonely he stands; leaves bud, and shoot, and fall; Or time's incessant change. Then in this hour, Think then, oh think of him, and breathe one prayer, Mrs. Bd. FROM FROM A SELECTION OF IRISH MELODIES. BY THOMAS MOORE, ESQ. 1. I SAW from the beach, when the morning was shining, I came, when the sun o'er that beach was declining, Ah! such is the fate of our life's early promise, So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known; Each wave that we danc'd on at morning ebbs from us, And leaves us at eve on the bleak shore alone. Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night;- Oh! who would not welcome that moment's returning, 2. DEAR Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, Dear Harp of my Country! farewell to thy numbers, Have throbbed at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; I was but the wind, passing heedlessly over, AS 3. AS slow our ship her foamy track When round the bowl of vanish'd years And when in other climes we meet As trav'llers oft look back at eve WHENE'ER |