traffic, with other circumstances, cause special danger to timid pedestrians. Attention and help are also bestowed, by surgeons and physicians connected with these institutions, upon thousands of out-door patients, who would otherwise pine in penury, writhe in helpless suffering, or waste by unchecked disease.

The High-street, Borough, has been the leading thoroughfare between London and the southern ports for many centuries. This thoroughfare was long famous for its inns, where travellers rested, rather than lodge in the crowded city. The close vicinity of the Thames rendered it convenient for those who preferred the "silent highway." After Thomas à Becket had been murdered and canonized, the crowds flocking in pilgrimage to his shrine contributed to the frequenting of this road. They generally met at one of the inns, and then joined in companies for safer and easier travel. The "Tabard," now called the Talbot Inn, was among the most famous of these places; and, as the old inscription ran, "This is the Inne where Sir Jeffry Chaucer and the nine-and-twenty pilgrims lay in their journey to Canterbury, anno 1383." Strangers frequently pass the dilapidated gateway, opposite the Borough Town Hall, little thinking of the special interest belonging to that ancient inn, now partly occupied as a goods depôt by one of the railway companies.

From the High-street we pass along Newington Causeway to the Elephant and Castle, which is the busy centre of South London, where six large thoroughfares meet. The spot is enlivened on a fine summer's afternoon by crowds intent upon their "shopping," and the passing of aristocratic-looking vehicles. This is a convenient place for reading a sad chapter in London life. Here we may watch the wild crowds hurrying eagerly from cares and duties, to witness the gaieties indulged upon the Surrey hills, when it is the "Derby" day. From the splendid coach and four carrying peers of the realm, down to the humble cart in which the coster rides, there are indescribable grades of vehicles. But their occupants interest us most of all. We see mothers with children in their arms, gaily-dressed females, and men of all hues and characters, joining in the hasting throng. What charms these excited hosts from the round of daily tasks, along a dusty road, to the Epsom Downs? What is it awakens such deep anxiety upon many of those intelligent faces passing by? Ah! the happiness of a life-time, and the comforts of home and family, are perhaps staked upon the running of a few splendid horses. Some now brushing briskly past, with fortune ample and prospects bright, may come home ruined or embarrassed men. When will the sad experiences of the past suffice to expose the deceptive witchery of the "turf? London gambling would form a startling chapter in the secret history of this great city.

To finish the western boundary of that section of the metropolis now under review, we must pass from the Elephant and Castle down the Walworth-road, as far as Camberwell, then eastward along the Peckhamroad, leaving the new Wesleyan Chapel to the right, in a direct line for

Deptford and Greenwich. Church-street, Deptford, joins this road with the river Thames, which bounds Southwark on the east and north. This division of the metropolis measures about two and a half miles square, with a population exceeding A QUARTER OF A MILLION. The locality is not so densely crowded as Lambeth on the west, or the parts of London immediately north of the river. Agricultural and manufacturing interests here mingle strangely; large tracts of land being cultivated as market gardens, whilst factories and tan-yards stand here and there amid these rural scenes. The appearance of the neighbourhood is exceptional in other particulars also.

The best view of this district may be obtained from the Greenwich railway, by which it is intersected diagonally. Rotherhithe lies to the north-east, bounded by the bend of the river, and directly fronting Stepney and Limehouse, on the opposite shore. An air of comparative quietness pervades this place. No rattling cabs or noisy omnibuses disturb the stillness; and were it not for the consciousness of having just left the din and bustle of the crowded city, a stranger would easily fancy himself in a quiet country town. This may soon be explained. Rotherhithe occupies an isolated position. The traffic of the metropolis passes of necessity over London-Bridge, and the bridges higher up the river. Cut off, therefore, from connexion with the Middlesex side of the Thames, except by water communication, few persons beyond those having resident friends in the locality, or actually engaged there in business, care to visit it at all. The Grand Surrey Canal Dock, the East Country Dock, with the Commercial Docks and Timber Ponds situated here, give employment to a large number of labourers, principally Irish. They work in companies under a "ganger," or foreman, who is often also a publican. This induces the spending of a large portion of their wages in the tap-room. Dissipated habits are thus formed or strengthened, to the great injury of the men themselves, and the misery of their families. A livelihood gained in this way is necessarily precarious. Sometimes work abounds; at other seasons the greatest difficulty is experienced in obtaining even the most trifling employment. The usual combination of poverty and imprudence distinguishes the labouring classes in Rotherhithe.

The district known as Bermondsey is situated between Rotherhithe and London-Bridge. Originally a kind of marshy island, it is now densely covered with warehouses and dwellings. William the Conqueror was once lord of the manor, and a priory, occupying several acres of the land, was founded here in 1080. The "Chronicles of Bermondsey," a manuscript preserved in the Harleian Collection, narrates many interesting incidents of the Abbey and its founder, and of the Royal personages there entertained. Few traces of the past remain to gratify the lover of antiquities. Modern houses, dirty streets, and colossal warehouses, for the most part, occupy the entire site. But have the influences of that monastic institution entirely disappeared? May we attribute the prevailing poverty to the former existence of such a place? It is certain the hospi

tality once dispensed by this and other powerful houses of charity, collected together crowds of needy families, who naturally remained in the vicinity of the place affording them so generous an assistance, even when the monasteries themselves were dissolved. That an impression should be left upon succeeding generations will excite no wonder; and the recent manufacturing prosperity of the locality cannot be expected to obliterate all traces of its former character. The general aspect of Bermondsey is not prepossessing. Its dreary streets are only occasionally relieved from their dulness by some noble archway, handsome pile of warehouses, picturesque church, or attractive school; and a stranger may well wonder at their being there at all.

Bermondsey has an important and distinctive branch of industry carried on within its natural limits. Spitalfields is famous for its silks, St. George's for its sugar refineries, and Bermondsey is renowned as the land of leather. This, however, is not the only manufacture. In addition to buildings for the operations of tanners, fellmongers, leather-dressers, and parchment-makers, there are rope-walks, glue-factories, and wool-warehouses; but the leather trade is the chief characteristic of the neighbourhood. Few idlers are to be seen along the streets, except on the Lord's day, when crowds of low Irish congregate in companies, waiting, perhaps, for the passing of a fellow-countryman's funeral. The ordinary trade is not subject to those severe fluctuations common in other employments. Regular work, and the advantages of a somewhat isolated position, have exercised a beneficial influence; so that it has grown populous, busy, and commercial. The "sack and bag women" of Bermondsey will be a familiar sight to persons frequently crossing London-Bridge. A large supply of coarse canvas bags is required for the corn trade in Mark-lane, and for the wool trade of Bermondsey. The warehouses where the canvas is given out are situated north of the Thames; and these women carry their loads home in large bundles upon their heads, returning with them in like manner when ready for use. The remuneration is miserably small, and the workers are consequently of the lowest class.

In the district south-west of Bermondsey, lying between Old-Kent-road and Walworth-road, the population partakes more of the peculiarities characterizing London generally. Sad are the pictures, drawn by men. who have lived and worked in the neighbourhood, of the social and moral condition of the masses here located. The prevailing ignorance is appalling. Hundreds are unable to read and write. Sunday trading is extensively carried on by small shopkeepers. Wretched dwellings abound, occupied by labourers, bricklayers, costermongers, and washerwomen. Unwashed and half-clothed children romp noisily in the streets, whilst their dissipated parents sip beer in the gin-palace, or gossip from house to house.

Christian philanthropists have not forgotten this extensive and needy part of the metropolis. City Missionaries are moving quietly among the lower orders of society here, and gems are occasionally found which will shine brightly in the Saviour's crown. The visitation of gin-palaces in

Bermondsey, by the person specially appointed to this work, has been very successful. Out of four hundred and forty-two houses, the Missionary has had access to four hundred and thirty-six; is treated with respect by most of the proprietors, and has permission to enter any part of the premises to converse with those frequenting the establishment. One great advantage arising from this kind of visitation, is the meeting with large numbers of men who seldom or never attend a place of worship. If ever they hear the mention of the name of God, or Christ, it is in fearful curse or ribald banter. When passions are inflamed, when shame and reason have succumbed to intoxicating drink, in filthy oath or appalling blasphemy they take the name of a jealous Maker in vain. The public-house is the only place in which they can be found and warned.

At the census of 1851, the returns, in relation to religious worship, showed an average accommodation by the Church of England for sixteen per cent., and by other Protestant churches for twelve per cent. of the population. This estimate would give provision for seventy thousand out of two hundred and fifty thousand persons: a very unsatisfactory provision indeed. The Rotherhithe and Bermondsey districts, being unlike other parts of the metropolis, their isolated position preventing over-crowding, also differ in the amount of their church accommodation; the per-centage there provided for being larger than in Southwark and the more southern divisions of this section of London. Until recently, Methodism offered only three thousand five hundred and fifty-three sittings as its proportion for the locality. The chapels were situated in Long-lane, Southwark, Albion-street and Silver-street, Rotherhithe, the Peckham Chapel in Stafford-street, and the premises leased at Lock-Fields and the Grove. If the modest estimate of a place of worship for one thousand out of every ten thousand of the population were reached, we should be here represented by twenty-five of such buildings. Any step towards so desirable a consummation will be hailed with satisfaction. The erection of a new and attractive chapel at Peckham, as a substitute for the old building, has added more than six hundred sittings to the previously existing accommodation. No recent movement of Wesleyan extension in the metropolis was commenced under greater discouragements, and no similar enterprise has achieved more merited success. The activity, devotion, and perseverance of the moving spirits in this aggression deserve high praise.

The new chapel at Peckham is partly the fruit of the Metropolitan Wesleyan Chapel Building Fund. Without the aid of this or a similar institution it is probable no such undertaking would have been commenced, however desirable it might have appeared. Founded at a time when the necessities of our home population were exciting increased concern, it was admirably calculated to assist the enterprises pushed on by the Home-Missionary Committee. In some localities a new agency was created to help on the work. In Southwark the old agencies were aroused to fresh life and animated with new hope, as soon as the establishment of the Metropolitan Fund held out the prospect of important material help.

The result is seen in the commodious and well-filled sanctuary at Peckham.

It would be well if a similar result could be attained for the Southwark chapel itself. The situation is retired, and the neighbourhood hardly such as many persons care to venture into. As in many similar places, the tendency is to decline. No fault attaches to the officials concerned. Southwark has the honourable distinction of being the only London Circuit in which there has been an uninterrupted increase of members during the last ten years. If the generous friends who raised the new building in Queen's-road would band together once more, and give Southwark chapel its rightful position, they would confer a great advantage upon Methodism in that part of the metropolis, and honour upon themselves.

The Metropolitan Building Fund may justly claim continued attention from the able and liberal supporters of Methodism in London and the provinces. Donations in its favour are more helpful to progress than if simply devoted to a local object. They stimulate effort, by enabling the Committee to hold out large and substantial promises to needy localities. Remembering, too, that more than one-half the adult population of the metropolis were born ouT OF LONDON, Methodists in the provinces can hardly free themselves from the responsibility of helping to provide religious accommodation for those of their own neighbourhoods, who may be compelled to come and live in this vast scene of industry and temptation.

ON WASTE AND SUPPLY IN THE HUMAN SYSTEM.

BY JAMES DEANE, M.A., M.D.,

(Concluded from page 1015.)

&c.

To illustrate the purification of the blood, we shall now make one or two remarks on the structure of the lungs. If we notice the lung of a sheep, or of any other animal, we shall soon find that it is an elastic, spongy structure, covered by a glistening, smooth membrane, and that it has tubes entering it, which are hard, cartilaginous, and almost circular. These tubes are the lower parts of the larynx, or windpipe. As the larynx enters the lungs, it is chiefly cartilaginous, with a little striped muscular tissue along its posterior surface. It divides dichotomously, or in pairs, each of which also separates in pairs; each part in its turn separating into two parts, at all possible angles. As they divide, they become less and less cartilaginous, and more and more muscular, until at their ultimate ramifications the bronchial tubes are almost entirely muscular.

The lung-cells vary in diameter, from the two-hundredth to the seventieth part of an inch. In shape they are irregular. Several of them open irregularly into one bronchial tube, and into each other. Each cell is lined by mucous membrane, without an epithelial or epidermic covering; and between these cells there is a peculiar elastic tissue, on which ramify