the intensities of their several actions are different in the two kingdoms; but, besides these, there are many substances innoxious to animals which are destructive to vegetable life. In fact, it should seem that almost every thing that vegetables can imbibe is injurious to them, excepting water, the insipid earthy salts, carbonic acid, and other gases, gums, and mucilaginous substances, and finally, certain animal inatters when introduced in very weak solution. It has been supposed that the presence of a nervous system might be assumed to exist in vegetables, from the mode in which they are destroyed by narcotic poisons; but there is this remarkable difference in the mode in which these substances act on animals and on vegetables: on the former they act by "sympathy" upon certain parts with which they have no immediate contact, whilst in the latter they produce their effect only on those parts of the tissue into which they are introduced. In vegetables, also, all poisons exert their action upon the cellular tissue, whilst in the more complicated structure of the animal frame different poisons will attack only particular tissues; which again seems to prove the existence of no more than one single faculty in vegetable life, as we concluded to be the case, from other considerations, in the beginning of this article. It is a curious fact in the action of vegetable poisons, that a plant may be killed by the poison which it has itself secreted, as a viper may be stung to death by its own venom. Hence it has been very generally noticed, that the soil in which any particular plant has grown, and into which it has consequently discharged the excretions of its roots, is rendered noxious to the growth of plants of the same or of allied species, though it be quite adapted to the support of other species. This fact is of the greatest importance in an economical point of view, as the whole theory of the rotation of crops may be considered to depend upon it. The discovery of this important step in agriculture was probably made by the Belgians; at least they have the merit of having developed the theory of it. Formerly it used to be said, that the whole secret of good husbandry consisted in ploughing well, and in manuring well; but to these must now be added the equally important art of so arranging the cultivation of different crops that they may mutually assist each other, and thus enable the farmer to obtain the greatest possible annual return from the same land. The whole theory depends upon the fact, that all plants succeed badly upon lands which have lately borne crops of the same species with themselves, or even of the same genus, or of the same family. This effect is not owing to any exhaustion of the soil that must have taken place during the growth of the previous crop, but arises from a corruption of the soil, by the

intermixture of vegetable excretions given out at the root, which excretions are always more deleterious to plants of the same kind than to others. It is even ascertained that the excretions of some plants are beneficial to the growth of others of a different family; the Leguminosa, for example, improving the soil for the Graminew. Agriculturists have proposed various theories to account for the beneficial results obtained by a rotation of crops. Some have supposed that one species, by its denser foliage, chokes the weeds which otherwise would spring up, and assists the crop in exhausting the soil; others have attributed the improvement that has taken place to the remains of the previous crop, which they suppose may have served as manure; a third have said, that the roots of different crops extend themselves to different depths, and so extract their nourishment from portions of the soil which do not interfere with each other; and lastly, it has been urged, that plants of different families may possibly derive their nourishment from different materials. It may be true that some of these causes have a certain degree of influence in determining which may be the most proper plants for a rotation, but they can only be considered as of very secondary importance when compared with that which relates to the deterioration of the soil, by its intermixture with the radical excretions of a previous crop. After enumerating some of the collateral circumstances which should direct the judgment of cultivators in selecting such plants as may be best adapted to a rotation of crops in any particular district, De Candolle proposes the following fundamental and physiological principles, which ought to be attended to where complete success is to be expected. First, a new crop ought never to succeed another of the same kind, unless under some very peculiar circumstances, as where the soil is annually renewed, or where it is naturally so fertile as to be capable of resisting the inconve niences which ordinarily result from such a system. Secondly, a new crop ought not to succeed another which has been raised from plants of the same family. A remarkable exception to this rule occurs in the practice adopted in the valley of the Garonne, where the soil admits of a biennial alternation between wheat and maize. Thirdly, all plants with acrid and milky juices injure the quality of the soil, and their remains should never be buried after the removal of a crop. Fourthly, plants with sweet and mucilaginous juices improve the soil for others of a different family. The chief of these are the Leguminosa, which are commonly adopted in practice for this purpose.

The great importance of this subject may well excuse our author for having entered somewhat more into its details than a work devoted to vegetable physiology might otherwise have war

ranted. But botany and agriculture are like two provinces of the same empire, which are separated by a broad river, with theory on the one side, and practice on the other; numerous bridges ought therefore to be constructed across this river, and our author has succeeded in erecting some, and in rebuilding others, on better principles than those which have hitherto been adopted. It now becomes the duty of the agriculturist to take advantage of them, and to study botany more zealously than he has hitherto done, and perhaps than it was possible for him to do, whilst the descriptive department of the science was still restricted within the limits of an artificial system, and its physiology was entirely based upon vague hypotheses.

An Appendix is added to the work, for the purpose of pointing out to those who may be desirous of rendering their assistance towards the further elucidation of the subject, how they may best accomplish this object. There are many points of first-rate importance in the establishment of a correct theory, which are as yet undetermined; so that any one who chooses to enter on this field may soon expect to find ample opportunity for making fresh discoveries. Not only the descriptive botanist, but the chemist, the natural philosopher, the agriculturist, the distant traveller, and the physiologist, are all called upon to lend their aid in determining certain questions within the sphere of their respective observation, and we cannot possibly do better than close this long article by seconding the wishes of our author, that they may be persuaded to listen to his advice.

ART. IV.-Yuri Miloslavsky, ili Russkie v' 1612 godu. (Yurii Miloslavsky, or the Russians in the Year 1612.) By M. J. Zagoskin. Second Edition. Moscow, 1830. 3 vols. 8vo. It was our intention to have noticed this production at some length, in a former article on Russian novels;* but we then contented ourselves with briefly adverting to it, from a belief that an English translation of it, which had been long-promised, would appear simultaneously with that number of our Review. As all idea of publishing that seems now entirely abandoned, our readers will probably not be sorry to be furnished with the means of judging whether the non-appearance of the projected translation need be matter of regret. Perhaps the very circumstance of this literary miscarriage here, may excite more curiosity to learn

See Foreign Quarterly Review, vol. viii. pp. 117 and 139.

To such as are unacquainted with the language of the original-and we are afraid that the number is very large compared with those that have that advantage-the information that translations of this romance have been published both in French and German, may be an acceptable piece of intelligence.

something of M. Zagoskin's romance, than would be caused by the celebrity it has procured for its author in his own country, where it obtained on its very first appearance the almost unanimous suffrages of the public, besides unequivocal marks of imperial favour.

Much of this popularity may, undoubtedly, be ascribed to the particular point of history chosen by the writer as the ground-work of his narrative; for it is one well calculated to have prepossessed the good people of Russia in behalf of a weaker pen than M. Zagoskin's. Few epochs in their annals possess greater interest for them than that when their patriots, Minin and Pozharsky, liberated their country from internal dissension and foreign oppression,-from anarchy on the one hand, and from the yoke of Polish dominion on the other. Such a theme is far better calculated for the meridians of Moscow and St. Petersburg, than for those of London or Paris; and to say the truth, we are somewhat inclined to suspect that the strong popular feeling in this country in favour of the Poles may have had its weight in preventing the appearance of the work in an English dress. We are not, however, deterred by that feeling from fulfilling the intention we had entertained and but for the reason above mentioned should have long since carried into effect-of making our readers acquainted with the production before us, which, in our candid opinion, possesses sufficient merit to entitle it to a very respectable place among the fictitious literature of modern Europe. If we were politicians, the book might afford us a most tempting opportunity for adding another to the many elaborate discussions with which the public has been favoured on the present unfortunate relations between two nations which have for centuries before and since the period to which this romance refers, been accustomed to regard each other alternately in the light of oppressor and oppressed; but as our ambition at present aims no higher than to furnish an entertaining article to the novel reader, we shall at once put aside all political topics, and proceed to the matter in hand.

The events which M. Zagoskin has taken for the ground-work of his story are important not merely in a historical, but in a political point of view, inasmuch as the results of them are not yet obliterated, although the condition of the two nations is now reversed; and as patriotism is a virtue that seldom observes the golden mean, his countrymen are likely to perceive only a vindication of their present conduct towards Poland,* in those cir

* It is but fair towards the author to keep in mind that this romance made its appearance several months prior to the insurrection--we can no longer call it revolution— of Poland in 1830.

cumstances from which others may possibly draw a very opposite inference. Yet even the friends of the Poles are not more likely on that account to be pleased with a picture that exhibits Poland as a ruthless oppressor in her days of power. Most calamitous was the state of Russia after the death of Boris Godunov: scarcely had the elevation of Shuisky to the vacant throne promised some restoration from the distractions caused by the first Demetrius, when another usurper, who gave himself out as the son of Ivan, again threw the country into a state of anarchy. Moscow was occupied by the Poles, and at this conjuncture, despairing of any other resource, many of the principal boyars agreed to accept Vladislav, or Ladislav, the son of Sigismund III., as their sovereign, on condition of his abjuring Catholicism, and embracing the faith of the Greek church. Among these was Yurii Miloslavsky, a young noble, who, notwithstanding his hatred of the Poles, vowed allegiance to the Polish prince, hoping that his authority would put an end to civil dissensions, and check the insolence of his own countrymen towards the Russians.

At the opening of the narrative we find Yurii and his faithful servant Alexei proceeding on their route to Nishnei Novogorod, whither Miloslavsky is sent by Gonsævsky, the Polish voivode of Moscow, on a mission to the stubborn inhabitants, to persuade them to acknowledge Ladislav as their sovereign, instead of involving their country in still greater disasters by holding out against him, and urging others to follow their example. The travellers have lost their way in a snow storm, and are in imminent danger of perishing, when they discover the body of an unfortunate Kozak, who seems already to have met with the fate they are anticipating for themselves. With some difficulty they succeed in restoring animation, and afterwards, in company with the stranger, whose life they have thus opportunely preserved, are so fortunate as to reach a small solitary inn or postoyaloi dvor where they are again exposed to some degree of peril. That this accidental meeting with the Kozak is a most opportune circumstance for Miloslavsky, becomes more and more evident as the story proceeds, since, were it not for the intrepidity and resolution of the grateful Kirsha, his adventures would terminate most disastrously, even before he could arrive at Novogorod. In one sense, indeed, Kirsha may be termed his rival, he being in fact quite the hero of the tale, if not of the history-frequently a more prominent personage than Yurii himself-evidently the author's favourite, who has finished up his character more spiritedly and naturally than those of his other actors and consequently most likely to be the general favourite with readers.

Before our wearied trio arrive at the postoyaloi dvor or inn we