the case of animals generally, and in man particularly, it is not the actual and immediate amount of cold undergone at any time that kills or maims, but the too sudden transition from a very low temperature to a comparatively high one. It is probably well enough known to the reader that very many of our flowers and plants are hygrometric, some of them very sensitively so. By hygrometric we mean that they spread out or expand their parts when the sun is bright and the weather is dry, while they contract or close them on the approach of moisture and cloud. We would at present draw attention to the fact that the potato plant, in its earlier stages of growth, is very sensitive in this respect, more so in some years than in others perhaps, according as the plants have come up, strong and vigorous and healthy, or the reverse; for we think our observations during many years warrant us in saying that the more vigorous and healthier the plant, the more sensitive will it be found to weather changes--its very sensitiveness in this respect, observe, helping forward its growth and preserving its vitality, by enabling it to avail itself of every favourable influence, just as it enables it to protect itself against such influences as are unfavourable or adverse. We were particularly struck with this hygrometric sensitiveness in the potato plant a day or two ago. We have an early planted field, more forward, perhaps, than anything else of the kind in the West Highlands, over which we took a friend who happened to call upon us. It was about mid-day, with a bright, hot sun overhead, and our friend agreed with us that he had never seen potatoes that had come up more regularly, or that looked more healthy and vigorous at the same stage of growth, the fully expanded plants already showing leaves broad and beautiful as those of a hazel tree in June. In an hour or two afterwards we had occasion to pass the same field, and the change in the appearance of the plants was extraordinary. They seemed to have actually grown a couple of inches since mid-day, and our friend exclaimed, "Well, your potatoes are wonderful! look at them now." And we did look, not so much, however, at the potato field as our friend did; we looked upwards and saw that clouds were rapidly forming in the west, one black, finger-like stripe of which had already nearly mounted to the zenith, and looking at that and at our potato field, we assured our friend that a heavy fall of rain, with possibly a gale of wind, was at hand. Our companion was astonished; the sun was yet shining brightly, and the greater part of the heavens was clear and cloudless; but within little more than an hour afterwards the rain fell in torrents, and a smart gale from the south-west was blowing. Our potatoes, however, had foreseen it all; were sensible of its approach, while our friend and ourselves thought ourselves in the midst of fine weather that might, perhaps,