mated that 15 per cent. of all the wine of France is made into brandy, and that 20,000,000 of gallons are annually made in France, of which at least one-third is exported.

Brandy, like wines and other alcoholic drinks, varies considerably in the quantity of alcohol it contains. At the same time it should be recollected that good brandy should contain from 50 to 55 per cent. of alcohol. Thus a pint of Cognac brandy will contain about ten ounces and a half of pure alcohol, the rest being water. Brandy also contains more or less sugar. Pure French brandy contains about 80 grains of sugar in the pint. It also contains acid, probably acetic acid, in the proportion of from 10 to 20 grains in the pint.

The spirit next in importance is Gin. This word is a corruption of Geneva, as that is of the French word genièvre or juniper. Gin is also called Hollands. Geneva, however, is not gin, but a kind of liqueur made from the berries of the juniper, which contain as much as 34 per cent. of sugar, and may be easily fermented. Gin was first made in Holland, and was brought into this country as Hollands gin. It is distilled from corn malt, and various substances are added to it to give it flavour. The most common substances of this kind are juniper berries, but a variety of substances are added to suit the taste of the consumer, so that no two gins are alike. In this country every gin distiller uses his own ingredients, whilst the retailer of gin has also his particular receipts for rendering his gin profitable or palatable, or both. Sometimes injurious substances are added to gin to make it taste strong, as sulphuric acid and sulphate of zinc; these, however, are adulterations.

Gin

The substances used for flavouring gin are numerous enough. Thus, I find enumerated bitter almonds, turpentine, creosote, lemon, cardamoms, caraways, cassia, garlic, Canada balsam, horseradish, Cayenne pepper, and grains of Paradise. None of these things are poisonous, and probably all of them assist in determining the action of the alcohol of the gin as a diuretic. does not usually contain so much alcohol as brandy, not more than eight ounces to the pint being found in the best gins. Sugar is added by many distillers, but others do not add this ingredient. Gin, as it is retailed, always contains sugar, and not frequently more than four ounces of alcohol to the pint. It is consequently a weaker spirit generally than brandy, and so far is perhaps less injurious when taken raw. I have, however, before stated that the taking raw spirits is a very hazardous proceeding, and cannot be habitually indulged without danger.

Whisky is the form in which distilled spirits are most popular in Scotland and Ireland. It is distilled principally from corn, although occasionally sugar and molasses are used. It is usually sold stronger than gin or brandy. It has frequently a slight smoky flavour, supposed to be derived from the manner in which it is prepared. This is more particularly the case with what is called small-still whisky. This spirit, as it is generally sold in England at the present day, is more free from flavouring ingredients than any other form of distilled spirits.

Rum is less generally consumed in England than the other spirits, but from the fact of its being supplied by the Government to our soldiers and sailors, large

quantities are entered for consumption in Great Britain. It is principally made in the West Indies, and our supplies are almost wholly drawn from Jamaica, where it is manufactured from the fermented scum of the sugar-boilers, and molasses. A flavour is often given to it by the addition of slices of pine-apple. It is usually sold considerably above proof, so that a pint of rum will contain 15 ounces of alcohol. It has a peculiar odour, which is due to butyric ether. Like brandy, it improves by keeping, and probably developes the same class of bouquets as wine. The action of the alcohol of rum is of course the same as that of other fermented liquors, but Dr. Edward Smith has pointed out a curious fact in its action on the system, and that is, that it increases the quantity of carbonic acid thrown out from the lungs. This may be due to the butyric etber. Whether this suggestion be correct or not, it is a curious fact, resulting from Dr. Smith's experiments, that whilst other alcoholic drinks decrease the expiration of carbonic acid, rum should increase it.

I must now, however, draw this long lecture to a close, and the next time we meet I propose to discuss the nature and action of those substances which we add to our food under the name of condiments, spices, and flavours.

A PASSAGE Occurs in the life of a practical philosopher which is well known to a large number of readers in England, and which so well illustrates the subject of this lecture that I may perhaps be excused for introducing it.

"Weal pie," said Mr. Weller, soliloquising, as he arranged the eatables on the grass; "Wery good thing is a weal pie, when you know the lady as made it, and is quite sure it an't kittens; and arter all though where's the odds, when they are so like weal that the wery piemen themselves don't know the difference ?"

"Don't they, Sam ?" said Mr. Pickwick.

"Not they, sir," replied Mr. Weller, touching his hat. "I lodged in the same house with a pieman once, sir, and a wery nice man he was-reg'lar clever chap too-make pies out o' anything, he could. What a number o' cats you keep, Mr. Brooks,' says I,

when I'd got intimate with him. 'Ah,' says he, 'I do—a good many,' says he. 'You must be wery fond o' cats,' says I. 'Other people is,' says he, a winkin' at me; 'they ain't in season till the winter though,' says he. Not in season!' says I. 'No,' says he; 'fruits is in, cats is out.' 'Why what do you mean?' says I. 'Mean!' says he; that I'll never be a party to the combination of the butchers to keep up the prices o' meat,' says he. Mr. Weller, says he, squeezing my hand wery hard, and vispering in my ear, 'don't mention this here agin, but it's the seasonin' as does it. They're all made o' them noble animals,' says he, a pointin' to a wery nice little tabby kitten; 'and I seasons 'em for beefsteak, weal, or kidney, 'cordin' to the demand; and more than that,' says he, 'I can make a weal a beefsteak, or a beefsteak a kidney, or any on 'em a mutton at a minute's notice, just as the market changes, and appetites wary!'

Well that is the text of this lecture, "it's the seasonin' as does it," and you know that condiments and spices are the seasoning with which we make our food pleasant; and, after all, if you consider what makes the difference between the various kinds of food, you will find that Mr. Brooks's philosophy is the correct one. It is the taste which food possesses that gives it most value in our estimation.

Now the nervous system is as much formed for the appreciation of these tastes and flavours, as the ear is for sound, and there is the same relation between the different flavours addressed to the palate, as there is between sounds addressed to the ear. The analogy is also correct in its minuter details just as some combinations of colour produce a pleasing impression on our minds, and others produce an unpleasant effect, or as one set of sounds produce discord and another set harmony, so there are some flavours that will not harmonise on the palate, and others that will produce the most pleasing and satisfactory results. Some persons