y between electricity and nervous power be as clearly established,
one of the most important and interesting problems in physiology will be
solved.

Every new discovery in science, and all improvements in industrial art,
the principles of which are capable of being rendered in the least degree
interesting, are in this Exhibition forthwith popularized, and become, as
it were, public property. Every individual of the great public can at the
very small cost of one shilling, claim his or her share in the property
thus attractively collected, and a small amount of previous knowledge or
natural intelligence will put the visitor in actual possession of
treasures which previously "he wot not of," in so amusing a manner that
they will be beguiled rather than bored into his mind.

A TUSCAN VINTAGE.

All Tuscany had been busy with the vintage. The vintage! Is there a word
more rich to the untraveled Englishman in picturesque significance and
poetical associations? All that the bright south has of glowing coloring,
harmonious forms, teeming abundance, and Saturnian facility, mixed up in
the imagination with certain vague visions of bright black eyes and
bewitching ankles--all this, and more, goes to the making up of the
Englishman's notion of the vintage. Alas! that it should be needful to
dissipate such charming illusions. And yet it is well to warn those who
cherish these _couleur-de-rose_ imaginings, and who would fain shun a
disagreeable _desenchantement_, that they will do wisely in continuing to
receive their impressions of Italian ruralities from the presentations of
our theatres, and the description of Mrs. Radcliffe. To those inquirers,
however, of sterner mould, who would find truth, be it ever so
disagreeable when found, it must be told that a Devonshire harvesting is
twice as pretty, and a Kentish hop-picking thrice as pretty a scene as any
"vindemia" that the vineyards of Italy can show. The vine, indeed, as
grown in Italy--especially when the fruit is ripe, and the leaves begin to
be tinted with crimson and yellow--is an exceedingly pretty object, rich in
coloring, and elegant in its forms. Nothing but the most obsolete and
backward agriculture, however, preserves these beauties. If good wine and
not pretty crops be the object in view, the vine should be grown as in
France--a low dwarf plant closely pruned, and raised only two or three feet
from the ground; and than such a vineyard nothing can be more ugly.