us inquire why the facts mentioned should be held as premonitory of death. The crowing of the cock has probably some connection with the denial of St. Peter, and in it, too, may perhaps be traced a faint remnant of the bird divination of the ancients. As to the itching of the nose, we confess our inability to say anything satisfactory, beyond the fact that in old times anything unusual and difficult to be reasonably accounted for in man's physical economy, as well as in his mental, was at once attributed to a supernatural cause. Of this the ringing in the ears, as well as the itching in the nose, must be held to be an example. The well-known ringing in the ears does come with extraordinary suddenness, as we have all experienced, and when it comes makes the most staid philosopher look foolish and out of sorts for the moment. Its connection with death is perhaps to be traced to the passing bell of early and mediæval times, and to the tolling of bells at funerals even in our own day. Sir Walter Scott, who knew the peasantry of Scotland so well, and sympathised so much even with their superstitions, has a happy reference to the death-bell in a passage in Marmion:-- "For soon Lord Marmion raised his head, And, smiling, to Fitz-Eustace said-- 'Is it not strange, that, as ye sung, Seem'd in mine ear a death-peal rung, Such as in nunneries they toll For some departing sister's soul? Say, what may this portend?' Then first the Palmer silence broke (The livelong day he had not spoke), 'The death of a dear friend.'" On this passage there is an interesting note very apropos to our subject:--"Among other omens to which faithful credit is given among the Scottish peasantry is what is called the 'dead-bell,' explained by my friend James Hogg to be that tinkling in the ears which the country people regard as the secret intelligence of some friend's decease." He tells a story to the purpose in the "Mountain Bard," p. 26-- "O lady, 'tis dark, an' I heard the dead-bell, An' I darena gae younder for gowd nor fee."