jhe uo as taelghgestepacesiemenasionysin casita = . . .eo See e@ @ © @ &» © &» © @ ) @ @ ee 6 2 @&) ») ® & (0) 8 a 2 @) © ee: @ ie: se Ze! *, DOOD COOL 3 1761 04398 0150 € BEAUTIES. OF NATURE ene | ©IR JOHN LUBBOCK wt OE Oa aR ee soe ; i rs eG ut rie 51 . http://www.archive. org/details/beautiesofnaturedOlubbuott i “Abe THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE “LOL bog “WVHNUONG ‘sqHoOaud a0 dnowyo *ava1ds2q,Uo of ‘4 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE AND THE WONDERS OF THE WORLD WE LIVE IN | BY THE RIGHT HON. SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART., M.P. F.R.S8., D.C.L.. LL.D. New Bork MACMILLAN AND ©CO. AND LONDON 1893 All rights reserved CoPpYRIGHT, 1892, By MACMILLAN AND CO. Set up and electrotyped September, 1892. Reprinted December, 1892; January, 1893 ie 3bea 6098959 _ > Se Nortoood Press : J. S. Cushing & Co.— Berwick & Smith. Boston, Mass., U.S.A. CONTENTS CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION : : : ~ Beauty and Happiness . ‘ The Love of Nature Enjoyment of Scenery Scenery of England gf ete Foreign Scenery . «© . «+ The Aurora . - x ‘ . The Seasons CHAPTER II On ANIMAL LIFE. : ‘ 2 ‘ Love of Animals . Growth and Metamorphoses . Rudimentary Organs Modifications . Colour : : Communities of Animals Ants PAGE 39 41 43 45 48 50 57 58 CONTENTS CHAPTER III On ANIMAL LiFE—continued . és Freedom of Animals Sleep Senses Sense of Direction . Number of Species . Importance of the Smaller Apiasls Size of Animals Complexity of Animal Sieaabaks Length of Life On Individuality Animal Immortality CHAPTER IV Dx Pic Lire. i... 4 , : $ , - . 3835 The Sea Coast : ; : < 3 5 «OT Sea Life . : ; j ; ; . . . 3844 The Ocean Depths . é ‘ : . ‘ . 351 Coral Islands . : ; ; ; : ; . 358 The Southern Skies : ‘ ; “ " . 865 The Poles ‘ ; ; ; ‘ : ; oer CHAPTER X THE Starry HEAVENS A ; : : F » 3873 The Moon ‘ ; = : ‘ : c + ae The Sun . ' ; ; ‘ - P ; » 8SQ The Planets . : 2 ; ; : - 387 CONTENTS ix PAGE Baoroete ee ee ce. e888 EGE ESET NP leer a titar p e s's B80 MORO inde cee ae ioe et ae ey te SRE Mars ; , ; : : pra ‘ . 892 The Minor Planets . ait ° : ‘ . 893 Jupiter . ; ; Se aE we Matte wap Oh Ome Saturn. : ‘ A ire ee’ he : . 3895 Uranus..«-. «. ie is ate ee hs Se ah te St Neptune. ~. rg or gS ee ane eee ean | Origin of the Planetary System . 6 ws ee Comets . : : ‘ ; : ; ‘ . 401 Shooting Stars i Se ee Paes ener arene. 3 The Stars Sa ek Na i Sg eee ue ng a NSE lo te oe hd a ne ee a eet ee, ILLUSTRATIONS oS FIG. PAGE 1. Larva of Choerocampa porcellus. ; ‘ Pee | 2. Bougainvillea fruticosa; natural size. (After All- man) . ; E . : . ; : oe 34 3. Do. do. magnified .. . : . 108 4, Do. do. Medusa-form ; 109 5. Medusa aurita, and progressive stages of aonckonaionk ‘(After Steenstrup) . : : ; : : . 110 6. White Dead-nettle ‘ y ‘ - ‘ : . 124 > ‘f Do. : ; ‘ : ‘ : . 125 8. Do. : : . ; : F . 125 9. Salvia . : ; : : ; ; : F é 12F 10) .- Do... ; : ‘ : ‘ ; , ’ . ae jh es Bo : : ; : , ; . : «13 12. Primrose. ; ; ; ; ; ‘ : . TR DO ; ; ; ‘ ; ; . we talao Ree 14. Arum . y : : ; : ; ; . 135 : 15. Twig of Beech : é : . 140 | 16. Arrangement of leaves in ‘Aer ARRISTE es ; . 142 17. Diagram to illustrate the formation of Mountain Chains . : 216 18. Section across the Save from phates to Neuchatel. (After Jaccard) . : : 219 19. Section from the Spitzen across the ‘Seanniais. anil the Maderanerthal. (After Heim) ‘ ; . 221 xi xii ILLUSTRATIONS FIG. PAGE 20. Glacier of the Bliimlis Alp. (After Reclus) . . 228 21. Cotopaxi. (After Judd) . : : : ; a 22. Lava Stream. (After Judd) . , 239 23. Stromboli, viewed from the north-west, April ‘1874. (After Judd) . ; ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ : . 242 24, Upper Valley of St. Gotthard . ; 257 25. Section of a river valley. The dotted ie ahawe a slope or talus of debris . ‘ 260 26. Valley of the Rhone, with the fier of Balionslie showing a talus of debris ; : : ; > en 27. Section across a valley. .A, present river valley; B, old river terrace. ; . . . 262 28. Diagram of an Alpine valley, saetae a river cone. _Frontview . ; : ‘ . 263 29. Diagram of an Alpine valley, showing a river cone. Lateral view . ; : ‘ : : . 265 30. Map of the Valais near Sion } ; , ; . 266 31. View in the Rhone Valley, showing a lateralcone . 267 82. Do. showing the slope of a river cone : ; : : : ; . 268 33. Shore of the Lake of Gao near Vevey . 3 . 269 34. View in the district of the Broads, Norfolk : « ax 35. Delta of the Po . ; : : : ; : . 2738 36. Do. Mississippi , , ; : ‘ . 274 37. Map of the Lake District . : ; : 3 . 281 38. Section of the Weald of Kent. a, a, Upper Creta- ceous strata, chiefly Chalk, forming the North and South Downs; 0, 0, Escarpment of Lower Green- sand, with a valley between it and the Chalk; c, ¢, Weald Clay, forming plains; d, Hills formed of Hastings Sand and Clay. The Chalk, etc., once spread across the country, as shown in the dotted lines ; : : - . 283 39. Map of the Weald of ak : ‘ . i . 284 ILLUSTRATIONS xill FIG. PAGE 40. Sketch Map of the Swiss Rivers . ; ‘ . 291 41, Diagram in illustration of mountain structure . . 296 42. Sketch Map of the Aar and its tributaries . ; 299 43. River system round Chur, as it used to be. 308 44, River system round Chur, as it is 309 45, River system of the Maloya 311 46. Final slope of a river . 317 47. Do. do. with a aks ; 318 48. Diagrammatic section of a valley (exaggerated). R R, rocky basis of a valley ; AA, sedimentary strata ; B, ordinary level of river; C, floodlevel . . 3829 49. Whitsunday Island. (After Darwin) . 359 50. A group of Lunar volcanoes ; spore Barocius, etc. (After Judd) . : 380 51. Orbits of the inner Planets. (After Ball) . 388 52. Relative distances of the Planets from the Sun. (After Ball) ; ; 389 53. Saturn, with the surrounding series of rings. (After Lockyer) 395 54. The Parallactic Ellipse. (After. Ball) 413 55. Displacement of the hydrogen line in the spectrum of Rigel. (After Clarke) : : » 416— PLATES BurNHAM BEECHES . Frontispiece Winpsor Castie. (From a drawing by J. Finnemore) : ‘ Aquatic VEGETATION, Rio. (Published by Spooner and Co.) Troricat Forest, West Inpres. (After Kingsley) Summit or Monr Buanc . To face page 13 sé ¢e 145 6c ‘6 179 sé se 203 Xiv ILLUSTRATIONS THe Mer pe Grace, Mont Buianc. RypaLt Water. (From a photograph by Frith and Co., published by Spooner and Co.) . WINDERMERE 3 2 : : View IN THE VALAIS BELOW St. MAuRICE VIEW UP THE VALAIS FROM THE LAKE OF GENEVA . : 2 ines : ; Tue Lanp’s Enp. (From a photograph by Frith and Co., published by Spooner and Co.) . View oF THE Moon NEAR. THE THIRD QuarTER. (From a photograph by Prof. Draper) . : : ‘ : To face page 229 251 254 266 270 337 - 817 INTRODUCTION B - a = H o < = Oo If any one gave you a few acres, you would say that you had received a benefit; can you deny that the boundless extent of the earth is a benefit? If any one gave you money, you would call that a benefit. God has buried countless masses of gold and silver in the earth. If a house were given you, bright with marble, its roof beautifully painted with colours and gilding, you would call it no small benefit. God has built for you a mansion that fears no fire or ruin... covered with a roof which glitters in one fashion by day, and in another by night. ... Whence comes the breath you draw; the light by which you perform the actions of your life? the blood by which your life is maintained? the meat by which your hunger is appeased? ... The true God has planted, not a few oxen, but all the herds on their pastures throughout the world, and furnished food to all the flocks; he has ordained the alternation of summer and winter... has invented so many arts and varieties of voice, so many notes to make music. ... We have implanted in us the seed of all ages, of all arts; and God our Master brings forth our intellects from obscurity. — SENECA. CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Tue world we live in is a fairyland of exquisite beauty, our very existence is a- miracle in itself, and yet few of us enjoy as we might, and none as yet appreciate fully, the beauties and wonders which surround us. The greatest traveller cannot hope even in a long life to visit more than a very small part of our earth, and even of that which is under our very eyes how little we see ! What we do see depends mainly on what we look for. When we turn our eyes to the sky, it is in most cases merely to see whether it is likely to rain. In the same field the farmer will notice the crop, geologists the fossils, botanists the flowers, artists the colour- ing, sportsmen the cover for game. Though 3 4 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. we may all look at the same things, it does not at all follow that we should see them. It is good, as Keble says, “to have our thoughts lift up to that world where all is beautiful and glorious,’ —but it is well to realise also how much of this world is beauti- ful. It has, I know, been maintained, as for instance by Victor Hugo, that the general effect of beauty is to sadden. ‘Comme la vie de homme, méme la plus prospére, est toujours au fond plus triste que gaie, le ciel sombre nous est harmonieux. Le ciel écla- tant et joyeux nous est ironique. La Nature triste nous ressemble et nous console; la Nature rayonnante, magnifique, superbe . . . a quelque chose d’accablant.” * This seems to me, I confess, a morbid view. There are many no doubt on whom the effect of natural beauty is to intensify feeling, to deepen melancholy, as well as to raise the spirits. As Mrs. W. R. Greg in her memoir of her husband tells us: “His passionate love for nature, so amply fed by the beauty of the scenes around him, 1 Choses Vues. I INTRODUCTION Ses! intensified the emotions, as all keen percep- tion of beauty does, but it did not add to their joyousness. We speak of the pleasure which nature and art and music give us; what we really mean is that our whole be- ing is quickened by the uplifting of the veil. ~ Something passes into us which makes our sorrows more sorrowful, our joys more joyful, —our whole life more vivid. So it was with him. The long solitary wanderings over the hills, and the beautiful moonlight nights on the lake served to make the shadows seem darker that were brooding over his home.” But surely to most of us Nature when sombre, or even gloomy, is soothing and con- soling; when bright and beautiful, not only raises the spirits, but inspires and elevates our whole being — Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; ’tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 6 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings. Kingsley speaks with enthusiasm of the heaths and moors round his home, “ where I have so long enjoyed the wonders of na- ture; never, I can honestly say, alone; be- cause when man was not with me, I had companions in every bee, and flower and pebble; and never idle, because I could not pass a swamp, or a tuft of heather, without finding in it a fairy tale of which I could but decipher here and there a line or two, and yet found them more interesting than all the books, save one, which were ever written upon earth.” ; , Those who love Nature can never be dull. They may have other temptations; but at least they will run no risk of being beguiled, by ennui, idleness, or want of occupation, “to buy the merry madness of an hour with the long penitence of after time.” The love of Nature, again, helps us greatly to keep 1 Wordsworth. oe INTRODUCTION 7 ourselves free from those mean and petty cares which interfere so much with calm and peace of mind. It turns “every ordinary walk into a morning or evening sacrifice,” and brightens life until it becomes almgst like a fairy tale. In the romances of the Middle Ages we read of knights who loved, and were loved by, Nature spirits, — of Sir Launfal and the Fairy Tryamour, who furnished him with many good things, including a magic purse, in which As oft as thou puttest thy hand therein A mark of gold thou shalt iwinne, as well as protection from the main dangers of life. Such times have passed away, but better ones have come. It is not now merely the few, who are so favoured. All those who love Nature she loves in return, and will richly reward, not perhaps with the good things, as they are commonly called, but with the best things, of this world; not with money and titles, horses and carriages, but with bright and happy thoughts, content- ment and peace of mind. 8 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Happy indeed is the naturalist: to him — the seasons come round like old friends; to. him the birds sing: as he walks along, the flowers stretch out from the hedges, or look up from the ground, and as each year fades away, he looks back on a fresh store of happy memories. Though we can never “remount the river of our years,” he who loves Nature is always young. But what is the love of Nature? Some seem to think they show a love of flowers by gathering them. How often one finds a bunch of withered blossoms on the roadside, plucked only to be thrown away! Is this love of Nature? It is, on the con- trary, a wicked waste, for a waste of beauty is almost the worst waste of all. If we could imagine a day prolonged for a lifetime, or nearly so, and that sunrise and sunset were rare events which happened but a few times to each of us, we should certainly be entranced by the beauty of the morning and evening tints. The golden rays of the morning are a fortune in themselves, but we too often overlook the loveliness of Nature, I INTRODUCTION 9 because it is constantly before us. For “the senseless folk,” says King Alfred, is far more struck At things it seldom sees. “Well,” says Cicero, “did Aristotle observe, ‘If there were men whose habitations had been always underground, in great and com- modious houses, adorned with statues and pictures, furnished with everything which they who are reputed happy abound with; and if, without stirrmg from thence, they should be informed of a certain divine power and majesty, and, after some time, the earth should open, and they should quit their dark abode to come to us; where they should immediately behold the earth, the seas, the heavens; should consider the vast extent of the clouds and force of the winds; should see the sun, and observe his grandeur and beauty, and also his creative power, inasmuch as day is occasioned by the diffusion of his light through the sky ; and when night has obscured the earth, they should contemplate the heavens bespangled and adorned with stars; the surprising variety 10 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE — CHAP. of the moon, in her increase and wane; the rising and setting of all the stars, and the inviolable regularity of their courses; when, says he, ‘they should see these things, they would undoubtedly conclude that there are Gods, and that these are their mighty works.’ ’’? Is my life vulgar, my fate mean, Which on such golden memories can lean ? 2 At the same time the change which has taken place in the character of our religion has in one respect weakened the hold which Nature has upon our feelings. . To the Greeks —to our own ancestors, —every River or Mountain or Forest had not only its own - special Deity, but im some sense was itself ‘instinct with life. They were not only peopled by Nymphs‘ and Fauns, Elves and Kelpies, were not only the favourite abodes of Water, Forest, or Mountain Spirits, but they had a conscious existence of their own. In the Middle Ages indeed, these spirits 1 Cicero, De Natura Deorum. 2 Thoreau. noes INTRODUCTION : 11 were regarded as often mischievous, and apt to take offence; sometimes as essentially malevolent —even the most beautiful, like the Venus of Tannhiuser, being often on that very account all the more dangerous; while the Mountains and Forests, the Lakes and . Seas, were the abodes of hideous ghosts and horrible monsters, of Giants and Ogres, Sor- cerers and Demons. These fears, though vague, were none the less extreme, and the judicial records of the Middle Ages furnish only too conclusive evidence that they were a terrible reality. The light of Science has now happily dispelled these fearful nightmares. Unfortunately, however, as men have mul- tiplied, their energies have hitherto tended, not to beautify, but to mar. Forests have been cut down, and replaced by flat fields in geometrical squares, or on the continent by narrow strips. Here and there indeed we meet with oases, in which beauty has not been sacrificed to profit, and it is then happily found that not only is. there no loss, but the _earth seems to reward even more richly those who treat her with love and respect. 12 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Scarcely any part of the world affords so great a variety in so small an area as our own island. Commencing in the south, we have first the blue sea itself, the pebbly beaches, the white chalk cliffs of Kent, the tinted .sands of Alum Bay, the Red Sandstone of Devonshire, Granite and Gneiss in Cornwall : inland we have the chalk Downs and clear streams, the well-wooded weald and the rich hop gardens; farther westwards the undu- lating gravelly hills, and still farther the granite tors: in the centre of England .we have to the east the Norfolk Broads and the Fens; then the fertile Midlands, the cornfields, rich meadows, and large oxen; and to the west the Welsh mountains; farther north the Yorkshire Wolds, the Lancashire hills, the Lakes of Westmoreland; lastly, the swelling hills, bleak moors, and picturesque castles of Northumberland and Cumberland. There are of course far larger rivers, but perhaps none lovelier than | The crystal Thamis wont to glide In silver channel, down along the lee, 1 Spenser. a © nN = a ~ z I INTRODUCTION 13 by lawns and parks, meadows and wooded banks, dotted with country houses and crowned by Windsor Castle itself (see Illustration). By many Scotland is considered even more beautiful. And yet too many of us see nothing in the fields but sacks of wheat, in the meadows but trusses of hay, and in woods but planks for houses, or cover for game. Even from this more prosaic point of view, how much there is to wonder at and admire, in the wonderful chemistry which changes grass and leaves, flowers and seeds, into bread and milk, eggs and cream, butter and honey! Almost everything, says Hamerton, “that the Peasant does, is lifted above vulgarity by ancient, and often sacred, associations.” There is, indeed, hardly any business or occu- pation with reference to which the same might not be said. The triviality or vulgarity does not depend on what we do, but on the spirit in which it isdone. Not only the regular pro- fessions, but every useful occupation in life, however humble, is honourable in itself, and may be pursued with dignity and peace. 14 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, Working in this spirit we have also the sat- isfaction of feeling that, as in some mountain track every one who takes the right path, seems to make the way clearer for those who follow; so may we also raise the profession we adopt, and smooth the way for those who come after us. But, even for those who are not Agriculturists, it must be admitted that the country has special charms. One perhaps is the continual change. Every week brings some fresh leaf or flower, bird or insect. Kvery month again has its own charms and beauty. We sit quietly at home and Nature decks herself for us. In truth we all love change. Some think they do not care for it, but I doubt if they know themselves. “Not, said Jefferies, “for many years was I able to see why I went the same round and did not care for change. I do not want change: I want the same old and loved things, the same wild flowers, the same trees and soft ash-green; the turtle-doves, the blackbirds, the coloured yellow-hammer sing, sing, sing- ing so long as there is light to cast a shadow lant INTRODUCTION 15 on the dial, for such is the measure of his song, and I want them in the same place. Let me find them morning after morning, the starry-white petals radiating, striving upwards up to their ideal. Let me see the idle shadows resting on the white dust; let me hear the humble-bees, and stay to look down on the yellow dandelion disk. Let me see the very thistles opening their great crowns —I should miss the thistles; the reed grasses hiding the moor-hen; the bryony bine, at first crudely ambitious and lifted by force of youthful sap straight above the hedgerow to sink of its weight presently and progress with crafty tendrils; swifts shot through the air with outstretched wings like erescent-headed shaftless arrows darted from the clouds; the chaffinch with a feather in her bill ; all the living staircase of the spring, step by step, upwards to the great gallery of the summer, let me watch the same succession year by year.” After all then he did enjoy the change and the succession. Kingsley again in his charming prose 16 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. idyll “ My Winter Garden” tries to persuade himself that he was glad he had never travelled, “having never yet actually got to Paris.” Monotony, he says, “is pleasant in itself; morally pleasant, and morally useful. Marriage is monotonous; but there is much, I trust, to be said in favour of holy wedlock. — Living in the same house is monotonous; but three removes, say the wise, are as bad as a fire. Locomotion is regarded as an evil by our Litany. The Litany, as usual, is right. ‘Those who travel by land or sea’ are to be objects of our pity and our prayers ; and I do pity them. I delight in that same monotony. It saves curiosity, anxiety, ex- citement, disappointment, and a host of bad passions.” But even as he writes one can see that he does not convince himself. Possibly, he admits, “ after all, the grapes are sour”; and when some years after he did travel, how happy he was! At last, he says, trium- phantly, “At last we too are crossing the Atlantic. At last the dream of forty years, please God, would be fulfilled, and I should I INTRODUCTION 17 see (and happily not alone), the West Indies and the Spanish Main. From childhood I had studied their Natural History, their Charts, their Romances; and now, at last, I was about to compare books with facts, and judge for myself of the reported wonders of the Earthly Paradise.” No doubt there is much to see everywhere. The Poet and the Naturalist find “ tropical forests in every square foot of turf.” It may even be better, and especially for the more sensitive natures, to live mostly in quiet scenery, among fields and hedgerows, woods and downs; but it is surely good for every one, from time to time, to refresh and strengthen both mind and body by a spell of Sea air or Mountain beauty. On the other hand we are told, and told of course with truth, that though mountains may be the cathedrals of Nature, they are generally remote from centres of population ; that our great cities are grimy, dark, and ugly ; that factories are creeping over several of our counties, blighting them into building ground, replacing trees by chimneys, and C 18 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, destroying almost every vestige of natural beauty. But if this be true, is it not all the more desirable that our people should have access to pictures and books, which may in some small degree, at any rate, replace what they have thus unfortunately lost? We cannot all travel; and even those who can, are able to see but a small part of the world. More- over, though no one who has once seen, can ever forget, the Alps, the Swiss lakes, or the Riviera, still the recollection becomes less vivid as years roll on, and it is pleasant, from time to time, to be reminded of their beauties. There is one other advantage not less important. We sometimes speak as if to visit a country, and to see it, were the same thing. But this is not so. It is not every one who can see Switzerland like a Ruskin or a Tyndall. Their beautiful descriptions of mountain scenery depend less on their mastery of the English language, great as that is, than on their power of seeing what is before them. It has been to me therefore.a 2 RM i ola ag s:* INTRODUCTION 19 matter of much interest to know which aspects of Nature have given the greatest pleasure to, or have most impressed, those who, either from wide experience or from their love of Nature, may be considered best able tojudge.. I will begin with an English scene from Kingsley. He is describing his return from a day’s trout-fishing : — “What shall we see,” he says, “as we look across the broad, still, clear river, where the great dark trout sail to.and fro lazily in the sun? White chalk fields above, quivering hazy in the heat. A park full of merry hay- makers; gay red and blue waggons; stalwart horses switching off the flies; dark avenues of tall elms; groups of abele, ‘tossing their whispering silver to the sun’ ; and amid them the house,—a great square red-brick mass, made light and cheerful though by quoins and windows of white Sarsden stone, with high peaked French roofs, broken by louvres and dormers, haunted by a thousand swallows and starlings. Old walled gardens, gay with flowers, shall stretch right and left. Clipt yew alleys shall wander away into mysterious 20 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. glooms, and out of their black arches shall come tripping children, like white fairies, to laugh and talk with the girl who lies dream- ing and reading in the hammock there, beneath the black velvet canopy of the great cedar tree, like some fair tropic flower hanging from its boughs; and we will sit down, and eat and drink among the burdock leaves, and then watch the quiet house, and lawn, and flowers, and fair human creatures, and shining water, all sleeping breathless in the glorious light beneath the glorious blue, till we doze off, lulled by the murmur of a thousand in- sects, and the rich minstrelsy of nightingale and blackcap, thrush and dove. “ Peaceful, graceful, complete English coun- try life and country houses; everywhere fin-' ish and polish ; Nature perfected by the wealth and art of peaceful centuries! Why should I exchange you, even for the sight of all the Alps ?”’ | Though Jefferies was unfortunately never able to travel, few men have loved Nature more devotedly, and speaking of his own home he expresses his opinion that: “Of all 1 INTRODUCTION aA sweet things there is none so sweet as fresh ~ alr—one great flower it is, drawn round about, over, and enclosing us, like Aphrodite’s arms; -— as if the dome of the sky were a bell-flower drooping down over us, and the magical essence of it filling all the room of the earth. Sweetest of all things is wild-flower air. Full of their ideal the starry flowers strained up- wards on the bank, striving to keep above the rude grasses that push by them; genius has ever had such a struggle. The plain road was made beautiful by the many thoughts it gave. I came every morning to stay by the star-lit bank.” . Passing to countries across the ocean, Hum- boldt tells us that: “If I might be allowed to abandon myself to the recollection of my own distant travels, I would instance, amongst the most striking scenes of nature, the calm sub- limity of a tropical night, when the stars, not sparkling, as in our northern skies, shed their soft and planetary light over the gently heav- ing ocean; or I would recall the deep valleys of the Cordilleras, where the tall and slender palms pierce the leafy veil around them, and 92 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. waving on high their feathery and arrow-like branches, form, as it were, ‘a forest above a forest’; or I would describe the summit of the Peak of Teneriffe, when a horizon layer of clouds, dazzling in whiteness, has separated the cone of cinders from the plain below, and suddenly the ascending current pierces the cloudy veil, so that the eye of the traveller may range from the brink of the crater, along the vine-clad slopes of Orotava, to the orange gardens and banana groves that skirt the shore. In scenes like these, it is not the peaceful charm uniformly spread over the face of nature that moves the heart, but rather the peculiar physiognomy and conformation of the land, the features of the landscape, the ever- varying outline of the clouds, and their blend- ing with the horizon of the sea, whether it lies spread before us like a smooth and shining mirror, or is dimly seen through the morning mist. All that the senses can but imperfectly comprehend, all that is most awful in such romantic scenes of nature, may become a source of enjoyment to man, by opening a wide field to the creative power of his imagination. ‘ —. ™ - ee I | INTRODUCTION 23 Impressions change with the varying move- ments of the mind, and we are led by a happy illusion to believe that we receive from the ex- ternal world that with which we have. our- selves invested it.” Humboldt also singles out for especial praise the following description given of Tahiti by Darwin *: — “The land capable of cultivation is scarcely in any part more than a fringe of low alluvial soil, accumulated round the base of mountains, and protected from the waves of the sea by a coral reef, which encircles at a distance the entire line of coast. The reef is broken in sey- eral parts so that ships can pass through, and the lake of smooth water within, thus affords a safe harbour, as well as a channel for the native canoes. The low land which comes down to the beach of coral sand is covered by the most beautiful productions of the inter- tropical regions. In the midst of bananas, orange, cocoa-nut, and breadfruit trees, spots are cleared where yams, sweet potatoes, sugar- cane, and pine-apples are cultivated. Even 1Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle. 24 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. the brushwood is a fruit tree, namely, the guava, which from its abundance is as noxious as a weed. In Brazil I have often admired the contrast of varied beauty in the banana, palm, and orange tree; here we have in addi- tion the breadfruit tree, conspicuous from its large, glossy, and deeply digitated leaf. It is admirable to behold groves of a tree, sending forth its branches with the force of an Eng- lish Oak, loaded with large and most nutri- tious fruit. However little on most occasions utility explains the delight received from any fine prospect, in this case it cannot fail to en- ter as an element in the feeling. The little winding paths, cool from the surrounding shade, led to the scattered houses; and the owners of these everywhere gave us a.cheerful and most hospitable reception.” Darwin himself has told us, after going round the world that “in calling up images of the past, I find the plas of Patagonia fre- quently cross before my eyes; yet these plains are pronounced by all to be most wretched and useless. They are characterised only by negative possessions; without habitations, et INTRODUCTION 25 without water, without trees, without moun- tains, they support only a few dwarf plants. Why then—and the case is not peculiar to myself — have these arid wastes taken so firm possession of my mind? Why have not the still more level, the greener and more fertile pampas, which are serviceable to mankind, produced an equal impression? I can scarcely analyse these feelings, but it must be partly owing to the free scope given to the imagina- tion. The plains of Patagonia are boundless, for they are scarcely practicable, and hence unknown ; they bear the stamp of having thus lasted for ages, and there appears no limit to their duration through future time. If, as the ancients supposed, the flat earth was sur- ~ rounded by an impassable breadth of water, or by deserts heated to an intolerable excess, who would not look at these last boundaries to man’s knowledge with deep but ill-de- fined sensations ?”’ Hamerton, whose wide experience and artistic power make his opinion especially important, says: — “T know nothing in the visible world that 26 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. combines splendour and purity so perfectly as a great mountain entirely covered with frozen snow and reflected in the vast mirror of a lake. As the sun declines, its thousand shadows lengthen, pure as the cold green azure in the depth of a glacier’s crevasse, and the illuminated snow takes first the tender colour of a white rose, and then the flush of a red one, and the sky turns to a pale malachite green, till the rare strange vision fades into ghastly gray, but leaves with you a permanent recollection of its too transient beauty.” ? Wallace especially, and very justly, praises the description of tropical forest scenery given by Belt in his charming JVaturalist in Nica- ragua :— “On each side of the road great trees towered up, carrying their crowns out of sight amongst a canopy of foliage, and with lianas hanging from nearly every bough, and passing from tree to tree, entangling the giants in a great network of coiling cables. Sometimes a tree appears covered with beautiful flowers which do not belong to it, but to one of the 1 Hamerton’s Landscape. I : INTRODUCTION 27 lianas that twines through its branches and ‘sends down great rope-like stems to the ground. Climbing ferns and vanilla cling to the trunks, and a thousand epiphytes perch themselves on the branches. Amongst these are large arums that send down long aerial roots, tough and strong, and universally used instead of cordage by the natives. Amongst the undergrowth several small species of palms, varying in height from two to fifteen feet, are common; and now and then magnif- icent tree ferns send off their feathery crowns twenty feet from the ground to delight the sight by their graceful elegance. Great broad- leaved heliconias, leathery melastome, and succulent-stemmed, lop-sided leaved and flesh- coloured begonias are abundant, and typical of tropical American forests; but not less so are the cecropia trees, with their white stems and large palmated leaves standing up like great candelabra. Sometimes the ground is carpeted with large flowers, yellow, pink, or white, that have fallen from some invisible tree-top above; or the air is filled with a delicious perfume, the source of which one seeks around 28 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, in vain, for the flowers that cause it are far overhead out of sight, lost in the great over- shadowing crown of verdure.”’ 3 “ But,” he adds, “ the uniformity of climate which has led to this rich luxuriance and end- less variety of vegetation is also the cause of a monotony that in time becomes oppressive.” To quote the words of Mr. Belt: “ Unknown are the autumn tints, the bright browns and yellows of English woods; much less the crim- sons, purples, and yellows of Canada, where the dying foliage rivals, nay, excels, the ex- piring dolphin in splendour. Unknown the cold sleep of winter; unknown the lovely awakening of vegetation at the first gentle touch of spring. A ceaseless round of ever- active life weaves the fairest scenery of the tropics into one monotonous whole, of which the component parts exhibit in detail untold variety of beauty.” Siberia is no doubt as a rule somewhat severe and inhospitable, but M. Patrin men- tions with enthusiasm how one day descend- ing from the frozen summits of the Altai, he came suddenly on a view of the plain of the ! ~ y or i _ INTRODUCTION 929 Obi—the most beautiful spectacle, he says, which he had ever witnessed. Behind him were barren rocks and the snows of winter, in front a great plain, not indeed entirely green, or green only in places, and for the rest covered by three flowers, the purple Siberian Iris, the golden Hemerocallis, and the silvery ~ Narcissus — green, purple, gold, and white, as far as the eye could reach. Wallace tells us that he himself has de- rived the keenest enjoyment from his sense of colour : — ae “The heavenly blue of the firmament, the glowing tints of sunset, the exquisite purity of the snowy mountains, and the endless shades of green presented by the verdure-clad surface of the earth, are a never- failing source of pleasure to all who enjoy the ines- timable gift of sight. Yet these constitute, as it were, but the frame and background of amarvellous and ever-changing picture. In contrast with these broad and soothing tints, we have presented to us in the vegetable and animal worlds an infinite variety of objects adorned with the most beautiful and most 30 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. varied hues. Flowers, insects, and birds are the organisms most generally ornamented in this way ; and their symmetry of form, their variety of structure, and the lavish abun- dance with which they clothe and enliven the earth, cause them to be objects of universal admiration. The relation of this wealth of colour to our mental and moral nature is indisputable. The child and the savage alike admire the gay tints of flowers, birds, and insects; while to many of us their contemplation brings a solace and enjoyment which is both intellectually and morally beneficial. It can then hardly excite surprise that this relation was long thought to afford a sufficient explanation of the phenomena ofcol- our in nature; and although the fact that — Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air, might seem to throw some doubt on the suffi- ciency of the explanation, the answer was easy, — that in the progress of discovery man would, sooner or later, find out and enjoy every beauty that the hidden recesses of the earth have in store for him.” I , INTRODUCTION 31 Professor Colvin speaks with special admi- ration of Greek scenery : — “Tn other climates, it is only in particular states of the weather that the remote ever seems so close, and then with an effect which is sharp and hard as well as clear; here the clearness is soft; nothing cuts or glitters, seen through that magic distance; the air has not only a new transparency so that you can see farther into it than elsewhere, but a new quality, like some crystal of an unknown water, so that to see into it 1s greater glory.” _ Speaking of the ranges and promontories of sterile limestone, the same. writer observes that their colours are as austere and delicate as the forms. “If here the scar of some old quarry throws a stain, or there the clinging of some thin leafage spreads a bloom, the stain is of precious gold, and the bloom of silver. Between the blue of the sky and the tenfold blue of the sea these bare ranges seem, be- neath that daylight, to present a whole sys- tem of noble colour flung abroad over perfect forms. And wherever, in the general sterility, you find a little moderate verdure —a little "Se THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. moist grass, a cluster of cypresses — or when- ever your eye lights upon the one wood of the district, the long olive grove of the Cephissus, you are struck with a sudden sense of richness, and feel as if the splendours of the tropics would be nothing to this.” Most travellers have been fascinated by the beauty of night in the tropics. Our even- ings no doubt are often delicious also, though © the mild climate we enjoy is partly due to the sky being so often overcast. In parts of the tropics, however, the air is calm and cloud- less throughout nearly the whole of the year. There is no dew, and the inhabitants sleep on the house-tops, in full view of the brightness of the stars and the beauty of the sky, which is almost; indescribable. “]] faisait,” says Bernardin de St. Pierre of such a scene, “une de ces nuits délicieuses, si communes entre les tropiques, et dont le plus abile pinceau ne rendrait pas le beauté. La lune paraissait au milieu du firmament, en- tourée d’un rideau de nuages, que ses rayons dissipaient par degrés. Sa lumiére se répan- dait insensiblement sur les montagnes de l’fle I INTRODUCTION oo et sur leurs pitons, qui brillaient d’un vert -argenté. Les vents retenaient leurs haleines. . On entendait dans les bois, au fond des vallées, au haut des rochers, de petits cris, de doux mur- mures d’oiseaux, qui se caressaient dans leurs nids, réjouis par la clarté de la nuit et la tran- quillité de lair. Tous, jusqu’aux insectes, bruissaient sous Vherbe. Les étoiles étince- laient au ciel, et se réfléchissaient au sein de la mer, qui répétait leurs images tremblantes.”’ In the Arctic and Antarctic regions the nights are often made quite gorgeous by the Northern Lights or Aurora borealis, and the corresponding appearance in the Southern hemisphere. The Aurora borealis generally begins towards evening, and first appears as a faint glimmer in the north, like the approach of dawn. Gradually acurve of light spreads like an immense arch of yellowish-white hue, which gains rapidly in brilliancy, flashes and vibrates like a flame in the wind. Often two or even three arches appear one over the other. After a while coloured rays dart upwards in divergent pencils, often green below, yellow in the centre, and crimson D 24 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. above, while it is said that sometimes almost black, or at least very dark violet, rays are interspersed among the rings .of light, and heighten their effect by contrast. Sometimes the two ends of the arch seem to rise off the horizon, and the whole sheet of light throbs and undulates like a fringed curtain of light ; sometimes the sheaves of rays unite into an immense cupola; while at others the separate rays seem alternately lit and extinguished. Gradually the light flickers and fades away, and has generally disappeared before the first glimpse of dawn. We seldom see the Aurora in the south of England, but we must not complain; our winters are mild, and every month has its own charm and beauty. In January we have the lengthening days. « February “¢ the first butterfly. «¢ March “¢ the opening buds. «April “the young leaves and | spring flowers. “« May “ the song of birds. “ June “ the sweet new-mown hay. , I INTRODUCTION 35 In July we have the summer flowers. “ August “the golden grain. “ September “ _ the fruit. * October “the autumn tints. “ November “ the hoar frost on trees and the pure snow. “ December <“ last not least, the holi- days of Christmas, and the bright fire- side. It is well to begin the year in January, for we have then before us all the hope of spring. Oh wind, If winter comes, can spring be long behind?! Spring seems to revive usall. In the Song of Solomon — My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing of birds is come, The voice of the turtle is heard in our land, The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. 1 Shelley. 36 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. “ But indeed there are days,’ says Emer- son, ‘‘ which occur in this climate, at almost any season of the year, wherein the world reaches its perfection, when the air, the heavenly bodies, and the earth make a har- mony, as if nature would indulge her off- spring. ... These halcyon days may be looked for with a little more assurance in that pure October weather, which we distin- guish by the name of the Indian summer. The day, immeasurably long, sleeps over the broad hills and warm wide fields. To have lived through all its sunny hours, seems longevity enough.” Yet does not the very name of Indian summer imply the superi- ority of the summer itself, —the real, the true summer, ‘ when the young corn is burst- ing into ear; the awned heads of rye, wheat, and barley, and the nodding panicles of oats, shoot from their green and glaucous stems, in broad, level, and waving expanses of present beauty and future promise. The very waters are strewn with flowers: the buck-bean, the ‘water-violet, the elegant flowering rush, and the queen of the waters, the pure and splendid I INTRODUCTION oe white lily, invest every stream and lonely mere with grace.” ? For our greater power of perceiving, and therefore of enjoying Nature, we are greatly indebted to Science. Over and above what is visible to the unaided eye, the two magic tubes, the telescope and microscope, have re- vealed to us, at least partially, the infinitely great and the infinitely little. Science, our Fairy Godmother, will, unless we perversely reject her help, and refuse her gifts, so richly endow us, that fewer hours of labour will serve to supply us with the material necessaries of life, leaving us more time to ourselves, more leisure to enjoy all that makes life best worth living. Even now we all have some leisure, and for it we cannot be too grateful. “Tf any one,” says Seneca, “gave you a few acres, you would say that you had re- ceived a benefit; can you deny that the boundless extent of the earth is a benefit? If a house were given you, bright with marble, its roof beautifully painted with colours and 1 Howitt’s Book of the Seasons. 38 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. I gilding, you would call it no small benefit. God has built for you a mansion that fears no fire or ruin . . . covered with a roof which | glitters in one fashion by day, and in another by night. Whence comes the breath which you draw; the light by which you perform the actions of your life? the blood by which your life is maintained? the ‘meat by which your hunger is appeased? . . . The true God has planted, not a few oxen, but all the herds on their pastures throughout the world, and furnished food to all the flocks; he has or- dained the alternation of summer and winter . . . he has invented so many arts and varie- ties of voice, so many notes to make music. . . . We have implanted in us the seeds of all ages, of all arts; and God our Master brings forth our intellects from obscurity.” * 1 Seneca, De Benejiciis. CHAPTER II ON ANIMAL LIFE If thy heart be right, then will every creature be to thee a mirror of life, and a book of holy doctrine. THomas A Kempis. CHAPTER II ON ANIMAL LIFE THERE is no species of animal or plant which would not well repay, I will not say merely the study of a day, but even the devotion of a lifetime. Their form and structure, develop- ment and habits, geographical distribution, relation to other living beings, and past history, constitute an inexhaustible study. When we consider how much we owe to the Dog, Man’s faithful friend, to the noble Horse, the patient Ox, the Cow, the Sheep, and our other domestic animals, we cannot be too grateful to them; and if we cannot, like some ancient nations, actually worship them, we have perhaps fallen into the other extreme, underrate the sacredness of animal life, and treat them too much like mere machines. 41 42 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Some species, however, are no doubt more interesting than others, especially perhaps those which live together in true communi- ties, and which offer so many traits — some sad, some comical, and all interesting, — which reproduce more or less closely the circum- stances of our own life. The modes of animal life are almost in- finitely diversified ; some live on land, some in water ; of those which are aquatic some dwell in rivers, some in lakes or pools, some on the sea-shore, others in the depths of the ocean. Some burrow in the ground, some find their home in the air. Some live in the Arctic regions, some in the burning deserts ; one little beetle (Hydrobius) in the thermal waters of Hammam-Meskoutin, at a tempera- ture of 130°. As to food, some are carnivor- ous and wage open war; some, more insidious, attack their victims from within; others feed on vegetable food, on leaves or wood, on seeds or fruits; in fact, there is scarcely an animal or vegetable substance which is not the special and favourite food of one or more species. Hence to adapt them to these various require- — 7) sa ON ANIMAL LIFE 43 ments we find the utmost differences of form and size and structure. Even the same in- dividual often goes through great changes. GROWTH AND METAMORPHOSES The development, indeed, of an animal from birth to maturity is no mere question of growth. The metamorphoses of Insects have long excited the wonder and admiration of all lovers of nature. They depend to a great extent on the fact that the little creatures quit the egg at an early stage of development, and lead a different life, so that the external forces acting on them, are very different from those by which they are affected when they arrive at maturity. A remarkable case is that of certain Beetles which are parasitic on Solitary Bees. The young lava is very active, with six strong legs. It conceals itself in some flower, and when the Bee comes in search of honey, leaps upon her, but is so minute as not to be per- ceived. The Bee constructs her cell, stores it 44 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. with honey, and lays her egg. At that mo- ment the little larva quits the Bee and jumps on to the egg, which she proceeds gradually to devour. Having finished the egg, she attacks the honey; but under these circum- stances the activity which was at first so necessary has become useless; the legs which did such good service are no longer required ; and the active slim larva changes into a white fleshy grub, which floats comfortably in the honey with its mouth just below the surface. Even in the same group we may find great differences. For instance, in the family of Insects to which Bees and Wasps belong, some have grub larvee, such as the Bee and Ant; some have larve like caterpillars, such as the Sawflies; and there is a group of minute forms the larve of which live inside the eggs of other insects, and present very remarkable and abnormal forms. These differences depend mainly on the mode of life and the character of the food. II ON ANIMAL LIFE 45 RUDIMENTARY ORGANS Such modifications may be called adaptive, but there are others of a different origin that have reference to the changes which the race has passed through in bygone ages. In fact the great majority of animals do go _ through metamorphoses (many of them as remarkable, though not so familiar as those of insects), but im many cases they are passed through within the egg and thus escape popular observation. Naturalists who accept the theory of evolution, consider that the development of each individual represents to a certain extent that which the species has itself gone through in the lapse of ages; that every individual contains within itself, so to say, a history of the race. Thus the rudi- - mentary teeth of Cows, Sheep, Whales, etc. (which never emerge from their sockets), the rudimentary toes of many mammals, the hind legs of Whales and of the Boa-constrictor, which are imbedded in the flesh, the rudi- mentary collar-bone of the Dog, etc., are in- 46 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. dications of descent from ancestors in which these organs were fully developed. Again, though used for such different purposes, the paddle of a Whale, the leg of a Horse and of a Mole, the wing of a Bird or a Bat, and the arm of a Man, are all constructed on the same model, include corresponding bones, and are similarly arranged. The long neck of the Giraffe, and the short one of the Whale (if neck it can be called), contain the same number of vertebre. Even after birth the young of allied species resemble one another much more than the mature forms. The stripes on the young Lion, the spots on the young Blackbird, are well-known cases; and we find the same law prevalent among the lower animals, as, for instance, among Insects and Crustacea. The Lobster, Crab, Shrimp, and Barnacle are very unlike when full grown, but in their young stages go through essentially similar metamor- phoses. | No animal is perhaps in this respect more interesting than the Horse. The skull of a Horse and that of a Man, though differing so _ at atte II ON ANIMAL LIFE 47 much, are, says Flower,’ “composed of exactly the same number of bones, having the same general arrangement and relation to each other. Not only the individual bones, but every ridge and surface for the attachment of muscles, and every hole for the passage of artery or nerve, seen in the one can be traced in the other.’ It is often said that the Horse presents a remarkable peculiarity in that the canine teeth grow but once. There are, however, in most Horses certain spicules or minute points which are shed before the appearance of the permanent canines, and which are probably the last remnants of the true milk canines. The foot is reduced to a single toe, repre- senting the third digit, but the second and fourth, though rudimentary, are represented by the splint bones; while the foot also con- tains traces of several muscles, originally belonging to the toes which have now disap- peared, and which “ linger as it were behind, with new relations and uses, sometimes in a reduced, and almost, if not quite, function- 1 The Horse. - 48 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. less condition.” Hven Man himself presents traces of gill-openings, and indications of other organs which are fully developed in lower animals. MODIFICATIONS There is in New Zealand a form of Crow (Hura), in which the female has undergone a very curious modification. It is the only case I know, in which the bill is differently shaped in the two sexes. The bird has taken on the habits of a Woodpecker, and the stout crow- like bill of the cock-bird is admirably adapted to tap trees, and if they sound hollow, to dig down to the burrow of the Insect; but it lacks the horny-pointed tip of the tongue, which in the true Woodpecker is provided with recurved hairs, thus enabling that bird - to pierce the grub and draw it out. In the Hura, however, the bill of the hen-bird has become much elongated and slightly curved, and when the cock has dug down to the burrow, the hen inserts her long bill and re Il ON ANIMAL LIFE 49 draws out the grub, which they then divide between them: a very pretty illustration of the wife as helpmate to the husband. It was indeed until lately the general opinion that animals and plants came into existence just as we now see them. We took pleasure in their beauty; their adaptation to their habits and mode of life in many cases could not be overlooked or misunderstood. Nevertheless the book of Nature was like some missal richly illuminated, but written in an unknown tongue. The graceful forms of the letters, the beauty of the colouring, excited our wonder and admiration; but of the true meaning little was known to us; indeed we scarcely realised that there was any meaning to decipher. Now glimpses of the truth are gradually revealing themselves, we perceive that there is a reason, and in many cases we know what the reason is, for every difference in form, in size, and incolour; for every bone and every feather, almost for every hair.’ 1 Lubbock, Fifty Years of Science. 50 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. COLOUR The colours of animals, generally, I believe, serve as a protection. In some, however, they probably render them more attractive to their mates, of which the Peacock is one of the most remarkable illustrations. In richness of colour birds and insects vie even with flowers. “One fine red admiral butterfly,” says Jefferies,’ ““ whose broad wings, stretched out like fans, looked simply splendid floatmmg round and round the willows which marked the margin of a dry pool. His blue markings were really blue—blue velvet — his red and the white stroke shone as if sunbeams were in his wings. I wish there were more of these butterflies; in summer, dry summer, when the flowers seem gone and the grass is not so dear to us, and the leaves are dull with heat, a little colour is so pleasant. To me colour is a sort of food; every spot of colour is a drop of wine to the spirit.” The varied colours which add so much to 1 The Open Air. en ee It ON ANIMAL LIFE a & the beauty of animals and plants are not only thus a delight to the eye, but afford us also some of the most interesting problems in Natural History.. Some probably are not in themselves of any direct advantage. The brilliant mother-of-pearl of certain shells, which during life is completely hidden, the rich colours of some internal organs of animals, are not perhaps of any direct benefit, but are incidental, like the rich and _ brilliant hues of many minerals and precious stones. But although this may be true, I believe that most of these colours are now of some advantage. “The black back and _ silvery belly of fishes’’ have been recently referred to _by a distinguished naturalist as being obvi- ously of no direct benefit. I should on the contrary have quoted this case as one where the advantage was obvious. The dark back renders the fish less conspicuous to an eye looking down into the water; while the white under-surface makes them less visible from below. The animals of the desert are sand-coloured ; those of the Arctic regions are 52 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, white like snow, especially in winter; and pelagic animals are blue. | Let us take certain special cases. The Lion, like other desert animals, is sand-col- oured ; the Tiger which lives in the Jungle has vertical stripes, making him difficult to see among the upright grass; Leopards and the tree-cats are spotted, like rays of. light seen through leaves. An interesting case is that of the animals living in the Sargasso or gulf-weed of the Atlantic. These creatures — Fish, Crustacea, and Mollusks alike—are characterised by a peculiar colouring, not continuously olive like the Seaweed itself, but blotched with rounded more or less irregular patches of bright, opake white, so as closely to resemble fronds cov- ered with patches of Flustra or Barnacles. Take the case of caterpillars, which are especially defenceless, and which as a rule feed on leaves. The smallest and youngest are green, like the leaves on which they live. When they become larger, they are char- acterised by longitudinal lines, which break up the surface and thus render them less II ON ANIMAL LIFE 53 conspicuous. On older and larger ones the lines are diagonal, like the nerves of leaves. Conspicuous caterpillars are generally either nauseous in taste, or protected by hairs. Fig. 1.— Cherocampa porcellus. I say “ generally,” because there are some interesting exceptions. The large caterpillars of some of the Elephant Hawkmoths are very conspicuous, and rendered all the more so by the presence of a pair of large eyelike spots. Every one who sees one of these caterpillars is struck by its likeness to a snake, and the so-called “‘eyes”’ do much to increase the de- ception. Moreover, the ring on which they are placed is swollen, and the insect, when in danger, has the habit of retracting its head and front segments, which gives it an addi- tional resemblance to some small reptile. That small birds are, as a matter of fact, afraid of these caterpillars (which, however, I need not say, are in reality altogether harmless) Weis- 54 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. mann has proved by actual experiment. He put one of these caterpillars in a tray, in which he was accustomed to place seed for birds. Soon a little flock of sparrows and other small birds assembled to feed as usual. One of them lit on the edge of this tray, and _ was just going to hop in, when she spied the caterpillar. Immediately she began bobbing her head up and down in the odd way which some small birds have, but was afraid to go nearer. Another joined her and then another, until at last there was a little company of ten or twelve birds all looking on in astonishment, - but not one ventured into the tray; while one bird, which lit in it unsuspectingly, beat a hasty retreat in evident alarm as soon as she perceived the caterpillar. After waiting for some time, Weismann removed it, when the birds soon attacked the seeds. Other cater- pillars also are probably protected by their curious resemblance to spotted snakes. One of the large Indian caterpillars has even ac- quired the power of hissing. Among perfect insects many resemble closely the substances. near which they live. Some it ON ANIMAL LIFE We moths are mottled so as to mimic the bark of trees, or moss, or the surface of stones. One beautiful tropical butterfly has a dark wing on which are painted a series of green leaf tips, so that it closely resembles the edge of a pinnate leaf projecting out of shade into sunshine. The argument is strengthened by those’ cases in which the protection, or other advan- tage, is due not merely to colour, but partly also to form. Such are the insects which resemble sticks or leaves. Again, there are cases in which insects mimic others, which, for some reason or other, are less liable to danger. So also many harmless animals mimic others which are poisonous or otherwise well pro- tected. Some butterflies, as Mr. Bates has pointed out, mimic others which are nauseous in taste, and therefore not attacked by birds. In these cases it is generally only the females that are mimetic, and in some cases only a part of them, so that there are two, or even three, kinds of females, the one retaining the normal colouring of the group, the other mimicking another species. Some spiders = 56 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. closely resemble Ants, and several other in- sects mimic Wasps or Hornets. Some reptiles and fish have actually the power of changing the colour of their skin so as to adapt themselves to their surroundings. Many cases in which the colouring does not at first sight appear to be protective, will on consideration be found to be so. It has, for instance, been objected that sheep are not coloured green ; but every mountaineer knows that sheep could not have had a colour more adapted to render them inconspicuous, and that it is almost impossible to distinguish them from the rocks which so constantly crop up on hill sides. Even the brilliant blue of the Kingfisher, which in a museum renders it so conspicuous, In its native haunts, on the con- trary, makes it difficult to distinguish from a flash of light upon the water; and the richly- coloured Woodpecker wears the genuine dress of a Forester—the green coat and crimson cap. It has been found that some brilliantly coloured and conspicuous animals are either nauseous or poisonous. In these cases the a ee Oe " ee tg Oe er -" II ON ANIMAL LIFE 57 brilliant colour is doubtless a protection by rendering them more unmistakable. COMMUNITIES Some animals may delight us especially by their beauty, such as birds or butterflies ; others may surprise us by their size, as Ele- phants and Whales, or the still more marvel- lous monsters of ancient times may fascinate us by their exquisite forms, such as many micro- scopic shells ; or compel our reluctant attention by their similarity to us in structure ; but none offer more points of interest than those which live in communities. Ido not allude to the temporary assemblages of Starlings, Swallows, and other birds at certain times of year, nor even to the permanent associations of animals brought together by common wants in suitable localities, but to regular and more or less or- ganised associations. Such colonies as those of Rooks and Beavers have no doubt interest- ing revelations and surprises in store for us, but they have not been as yet so much studied 58 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. as those of some insects. Among these the Hive Bees, from the beauty and regularity of their cells, from their utility to man, and from the debt we owe them for their uncon- scious agency in the improvement of flowers, hold a very high place; but they are prob- ably less intelligent, and their relations with other animals and with one another are less complex than in the case of Ants, which have been so well studied by Gould, Huber, Forel, M‘Cook, and other naturalists. The subject is a wide one, for there are at least a thousand species of Ants, no two of which have the same habits. In this country we have rather more than thirty, most of which I have kept in confinement. Their life is comparatively long: I have had working Ants. which were seven years old, and a Queen Ant lived in one of my nests for fifteen years. The community consists, in addition to the young, of males, which do no work, of wingless workers, and one or more Queen mothers, who have at first wings, which, however, after one Marriage flight, they throw off, as they never leave the nest again, and in it wings would of ~ ——S 11 ON ANIMAL LIFE 59 course be useless. The workers do not, except - occasionally, lay eggs, but carry on all the af- fairs of the community. Some of them, and especially the younger ones, remain in the nest, excavate chambers and tunnels, and tend the young, which are sorted up according to age, so that my nests often had the appear- ance of a school, with the children arranged in classes. In our English Ants the workers in each species are all similar except in size, but among foreign species there are some in which there are two or even more classes of workers, differing greatly not only in size, but also in form. The differences are not the result of age, nor of race, but are adaptations to different functions; the nature of which, however, is not yet well understood. Among the Termites those of one class certainly seem to act as soldiers, and among the true Ants also some have comparatively immense heads and powerful jaws. It is doubtful, however, whether they form a real army. Bates observed that on a foraging expedition the large-headed individuals did not walk in the 60 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. regular ranks, nor on the return did they carry any of the booty, but marched along at the side, and at tolerably regular intervals, “like subaltern officers in a marching regi- ment.’ He is disposed, however, to ascribe to them a much humbler function, namely, to serve merely “as indigestible morsels to the ant thrushes.” This, I confess, seems to me improbable. Solomon was, so far as we yet know, quite correct in describing Ants as having “ neither guide, overseer, nor ruler.” The so-called Queens are really Mothers. Nevertheless it is true, and it is curious, that the working Ants and Bees always turn their heads towards the Queen. It seems as if the sight of her gave them pleasure. On one occasion, while moving some Ants from one nest into another for exhibition at the Royal Institution, I unfortunately crushed the Queen and killed her. The others, however, did not desert her, or draw her out as they do dead workers, but on the contrary carried her into the new nest, and subsequently into a larger one with which I supplied them, congregating round her for a I ON ANIMAL LIFE 61 weeks just as if she had been alive. One could hardly help fancying that they were mourning her loss, or hoping anxiously for her recovery. The Communities of Ants are sometimes very large, numbering even up to 500,000 individuals; and it is a lesson to us, that no one has ever yet seen a quarrel between any two Ants belonging to the same community. On the other hand it must be admitted that they are in hostility, not only with most other insects, including Ants of different species, but even with those of the same species if belonging to different communities. I have over and over again introduced Ants from one of my nests into another nest of the same species, and they were invariably attacked, seized by a leg or an antenna, and dragged out. It is evident therefore that the Ants of each community all recognise one another, which is very remarkable. But more than this, I several times divided a nest into two halves, and found that even after a separation of a year and nine months they recognised 62 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE eae one another, and were perfectly friendly ; while they at once attacked Ants from a different nest, although of the same species. It has been suggested that the Ants of each nest have some sign or password by which they recognise one another. To test this I made some insensible. First I tried chloro- form, but this was fatal to them; and as therefore they were practically dead, I did not consider the test satisfactory. I decided therefore to intoxicate them. This was less easy than I had expected. None of my Ants would voluntarily degrade them- selves by getting drunk. However, I got over the difficulty by putting them into whisky for a few moments. I took fifty specimens, twenty-five from one nest and twenty-five from another, made them dead drunk, marked each with a spot of paint, and - put them on a table close to where other Ants from one of the nests were feeding. The table was surrounded as usual with a moat of water to prevent them from straying. The Ants which were feeding soon noticed those which I had made drunk. They seemed quite ie je II ON ANIMAL LIFE 63 astonished to find their comrades in such a disgraceful condition, and as much at a loss to know what to do with their drunkards as we are. After a while, however, to cut my story short, they carried them all away: the strangers they took to the edge of the moat and dropped into the water, while they bore their friends home into the nest, where by degrees they slept off the effects of the spirit. Thus it is evident that they know their friends even when incapable of giving any sign or password. This little experiment also shows that they help comrades in distress. If a Wolf or a Rook be ill or injured, we are told that it is driven away or even killed by its comrades. Not so with Ants. For instance, in one of my nests an unfortunate Ant, in emerging from the chrysalis skin, injured her legs so much that she lay on her back quite helpless. For three months, however, she was carefully fed and tended by the other Ants. In another case an Ant in the same manner had injured her antennee. I watched her also carefully to see what would happen. For some days she did 64 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. not leave the nest. At last one day she ventured outside, and after a while met a — stranger Ant of the same species, but be- longing to another nest, by whom she was at once attacked. I tried to separate them, but whether by her enemy, or perhaps by my well-meant but clumsy kindness, she was evidently much hurt and lay helplessly on her side. Several other Ants passed her without taking any notice, but soon one came up, examined her carefully with her antenne, and carried her off tenderly to the nest. No one, I think, who saw it could have denied to that Ant one attribute of humanity, the quality of kindness. The existence of such communities as those of Ants or Bees implies, no doubt, some power of communication, but the amount is still a matter of doubt. It is well known that if one Bee or Ant discovers a store of food, others soon find their way to it. This, however, does not prove much. It makes all the difference whether they are brought or sent. If they merely accompany on her return a companion who has brought a store of food, —* Se — ee =e II ON ANIMAL LIFE 65 it does not imply much. To test this, there- fore, I made several experiments. [or in- stance, one cold day my Ants were almost all in their nests. One only was out hunting and about six feet from home. I took a dead bluebottle fly, pmned it on to a piece of cork, and put it down just in front of her. She at once tried to carry off the fly, but to her sur- prise found it immovable. She tugged and tugged, first one way and then another for about twenty minutes, and then went straight off to the nest. During that time not a single Ant had come out; in fact she was the only Ant of that nest out at the time. She went straight in, but in a few seconds — less than half a minute, — came out again with no less than twelve friends, who trooped off with her, and eventually tore up the dead fly, carrying it off in triumph. | Now the first Ant took nothing home with her; she must therefore somehow have made her friends understand that she had found some food, and wanted them to come and help her to secure it. In all such cases, however, so far as my experience goes, the Ants brought F 66 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. their friends, and some of my experiments indicated that they are unable to send them. Certain species of Ants, again, make slaves of others, as Huber first observed. If a col- ony of the slave-making Ants is changing the nest, a matter which is left to the discretion of the slaves, the latter carry their mistresses to their new home. Again, if I uncovered one of my nests of the Fuscous Ant (Formica fusca), they all began running about in search of some place of refuge. If now I covered over one small part of the nest, after a while some Ant discovered it. In sucha case, however, the. brave little insect never remained there, she came out in search of her friends, and the first one she met she took up in her jaws, threw over her shoulder (their way of carry- ing friends), and took into the covered part ; then both came out again, found two more friends and brought them in, the same ma- noeuvre being repeated until the whole commu- nity was in a place of safety. This I think says much for their public spirit, but seems to prove that, in F. fusca at least, the powers of communication are but limited. Il ON ANIMAL LIFE 67 One kind of slave-making Ant has_be- come so completely dependent on their slaves, that even if provided with food they will die of hunger, unless there is a slave to put it into their mouth. I found, however, that they would thrive very well if supplied with a slave for an hour or so once a week to clean and feed them. But in many cases the community does not consist of Ants only. They have domestic animals, and indeed it is not going too far to say that they have domesticated more animals than we have. Of these the most important are Aphides. Some species keep Aphides on trees and bushes, others collect root-feeding Aphides into their nests. They serve as cows to the Ants, which feed on the honey-dew secreted by the Aphides. Not only, more- over, do the Ants protect the Aphides them- selves, but collect their eggs in autumn, and tend them carefully through the winter, ready for the next spring. Many other insects are also domesticated by Ants, and some of them, from living constantly underground, 68 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. have completely lost their eyes and become quite blind. But I must not let myself be carried away by this fascinating subject, which I have treated more at length in another work.’ I . will only say that though their intelligence is no doubt limited, still I do not think that any one who has studied the life-history of Ants can draw any fundamental line of sep- aration between instinct and reason. When we see a community of Ants work- “ing together in perfect harmony, it is impos- sible not to ask ourselves how far they are mere exquisite automatons ; how far they are conscious beings? When we watch an ant-hill tenanted by thousands of industrious inhabitants, excavatmg chambers, forming tunnels, making roads, guarding their home, gathering food, feeding the young, tending their domestic animals — each one fulfilling its duties industriously, and without con- fusion, —it is difficult altogether to deny to them the gift of reason; and all our 1 Ants, Bees, and Wasps. oa a Cit) bale II ON ANIMAL LIFE 69 recent observations tend to confirm the opinion that their mental powers differ from those of men, not so much in kind as in degree. CHAPTER IIT ON ANIMAL LIFE — continued An organic being is a microcosm —a little universe, formed of a host of self-propagating organisms, inconceiv- ably minute and numerous as the stars of heaven. Darwin. CHAPTER III ON ANIMAL LIFE — continued. We constantly speak of animals asfree. A fish, says Ruskin, “is much freer than a Man; and as to a fly, it is a black incarnation of freedom.” It is pleasant to think of anything as free, but in this case the idea is, I fear, to a great extent erroneous. Young animals may frolic and play, but older ones take life very seriously. About the habits of fish and flies, indeed, as yet we know very little. Any one, however, who will watch animals will soon satisfy himself how diligently they work. Even when they seem to be idling over flowers, or wandering aimlessly about, they are in truth diligently seeking for food, or collecting materials for nests. The industry of Bees is proverbial. When collecting honey or pollen 73 74 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. they often visit over twenty flowers in a minute, keeping constantly to one species, without yielding a moment’s dalliance to any more sweet or lovely tempter. Ants fully deserve the commendation of Solomon. Wasps have not the same reputation for in- dustry ; but I have watched them from before four in the morning till dark at night work- ing like animated machines without a mo- ment’s rest or intermission. Sundays and Bank Holidays are all the same to them. Again, Birds have their own gardens and farms from which they do not wander, and within which they will tolerate no interfer- ence. Their ideas of the rights of property are far stricter than those of some statesmen. As to freedom, they have their daily duties as much as a mechanic in a mill or a clerk in an office. They suffer under alarms, moreover, from which we are happily free. Mr. Galton believes that the life of wild animals is very anxious. “From my own recollection,’ he says, “I believe that every antelope in South Africa has to run for its life every one or two days upon an average, and that he starts or ee ae ————— a a II ON ANIMAL LIFE 75 gallops under the influence of a false alarm many times in a day. ‘Those who have crouched at night by the side of pools in the desert, in order to have a shot at the beasts that frequent it, see strange scenes of animal life; how the creatures gambol at one moment and fight at another; how a herd suddenly halts in strained attention, and then breaks into a maddened rush as one of them becomes conscious of the stealthy movements or rank scent of a beast of prey. Now this hourly life- and-death excitement is a keen delight to most wild creatures, but must be peculiarly distracting to the comfort-loving temperament of others. The latter are alone suited to endure the crass habits and dull routine of domesticated life. Suppose that an animal which has been captured and _half-tamed, received ill-usage from his captors, either as punishment or through mere brutality, and that he rushed indignantly into the forest with his ribs aching from blows and stones. If a comfort-loving animal, he will probably be no gainer by the change, more serious alarms and no less ill-usage awaits him: he 76 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. hears the roar of the wild beasts, and the headlong gallop of the frightened herds, and he finds the buttings and the kicks of other ~ animals harder to endure than the blows from which he fled: he has peculiar disadvantages from being a stranger; the herds of his own species which he seeks for companionship con- stitute so many cliques, into which he can only find admission by more fighting with their strongest members than he has spirit to undergo. As a set-off against these miseries, the freedom of savage life has no charms for his temperament; so the end of it is, that with a heavy heart he turns back to the habitation he had quitted.” But though animals may not be free, I hope and believe that they are happy. Dr. Hudson, an admirable observer, assures us with confidence that the struggle for exist- ence leaves them much leisure and famous spirits. “In the animal world,” he exclaims,’ ‘“‘what happiness reigns! What ease, grace, beauty, leisure, and content! Watch these living specks as they glide through their 1 Address to Microscopical Society, 1890, nr ON ANIMAL LIFE 77 forests of algee, all ‘without hurry and care,’ as if their ‘span-long lives’ really could endure for the thousand years that the old catch pines for. Here is no greedy jostling at the banquet that nature has spread for them; no dread of each other ; but a leisurely inspection of the field, that shows neither the pressure of hunger nor the dread of an enemy. “ <'T'o labour and to be content ’ (that ‘ sweet life’ of the son of Sirach)— to be equally ready for an enemy or a friend — to trust in them- selves alone, to show a brave unconcern for the morrow, all these are the admirable points of a character almost universal among animals, and one that would lighten many a heart were it more common among men. That character is the direct result of the golden law ‘If one will not work, neither let him eat’ ; a law whose stern kindness, unflinch- ingly applied, has produced whole nations of living creatures, without a pauper in their ranks, flushed with health, alert, resolute, self-reliant, and singularly happy.” It has often been said that Man is the only 78 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. animal gifted with the power of enjoying a joke, but if animals do not laugh, at any rate they sometimes play. We are, indeed, apt perhaps to credit them with too much of our own attributes and emotions, but we can hardly be mistaken in supposing that they enjoy certain scents and sounds. It is difficult to separate the games of kittens and lambs from those of children. Our countryman Gould long ago described the “amusements or sportive exercises’ which he had observed among Ants. Forel was at first incredulous, but finally confirmed these statements; and, speaking of certain tropical Ants, Bates says “the conclusion that they were engaged in play was irresistible.” SLEEP We share with other animals the great blessing of Sleep, nature’s soft nurse, “ the mantle that covers thought, the food that appeases hunger, the drink that quenches thirst, the fire that warms cold, the cold that IIT ON ANIMAL LIFE 79 moderates heat, the coin that purchases all things, the balance and weight that equals the shepherd with the king, and the simple with the wise.’ Some animals dream as we do; Dogs, for instance, evidently dream of | the chase. With the lower animals which cannot shut their eyes it is, however, more difficult to make sure whether they are awake or asleep. I have often noticed insects at night, even when it was warm and light, behave just as if they were asleep, and take no notice of objects which would certainly have startled them in the day. The same thing has also been observed in the case of fish. But why should we sleep? What a remark- able thing it is that one-third of our life should be passed in unconsciousness. “Half of our days,” says Sir T. Browne, “we pass in the shadow of the earth, and the brother of death extracteth a third part of our lives.” The obvious suggestion is that we require rest. But this does not fully meet the case. In sleep the mind is still awake, and lives a life of its own: our thoughts wander, uncon- trolled, by the will. The mind, therefore, 1s 80 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. not necessarily itself at rest; and yet we all know how it is refreshed by sleep. But though animals sleep, many of them are nocturnal in their habits. Humboldt gives a vivid description of night in a Brazilian forest. “Everything passed tranquilly till eleven at night, and then a noise so terrible arose in the neighbouring forest that it was almost impossible to close our eyes. Amid the cries of so many wild beasts howling at once the Indians discriminated such only as were (at intervals) heard separately. These were the little soft cries of the sapajous, the moans of the alouate apes, the howlings of the jaguar and couguar, the peccary and the sloth, and the cries of (many) birds. When the jaguars approached the skirt of the forest our dog, which till then had never ceased barking, began to how] and seek for shelter beneath our hammocks. Sometimes, after a long silence, the cry of the tiger came from the tops of the trees; and then it was followed by the sharp and long whistling of the monkeys, which appeared to flee from the danger which III ON ANIMAL LIFE 81 threatened them. We heard the same noises repeated durmg the course of whole months whenever the forest approached the bed of the river. “ When the natives are interrogated on the causes of the tremendous noise made by the beasts of the forest at certain hours of the night, the answer is, they are keeping the feast of the full moon. I believe this agita- tion is most frequently the effect of some con- flict that has arisen in the depths of the forest. The jaguars, for instance, pursue the peccaries and the tapirs, which, having no defence, flee in close troops, and break down the bushes they find in their way. Terrified at this struggle, the timid and distrustful monkeys answer, from the tops of the trees, the cries of the large animals. They awaken the birds that live in society, and by degrees the whole assembly is in commotion. It is not always in a fine moonlight, but more par- ticularly at the time of a storm of violent showers, that this tumult takes place among the wild beasts. ‘May heaven grant them a quiet night and repose, and us also!’ said the G 82 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. monk who accompanied us to the Rio Negro, when, sinking with fatigue, he assisted in arranging our accommodation for the night.” Life is indeed among animals a struggle for existence, and in addition to the more usual weapons — teeth and claws — we find in some animals special and peculiar means of offence and defence. If we had not been so familiarised with the fact, the possession of poison might well seem a wonderful gift. That a fluid, harmless in one animal itself, should yet prove so deadly when transferred to others, is certainly very remarkable; and though the venom of the Cobra or the Rattlesnake appeal perhaps more effectively to our imagination, we have con- clusive evidence of concentrated poison even in the bite of a midge, which may remain for days perceptible. The sting of a Bee or Wasp, though somewhat similar in its effect, is a totally different organ, being a modified ovi- positor. Some species of Ants do not sting in the ordinary sense, but eject their acrid poison to a distance of several inches. Another very remarkable weapon is the — ve / ut ON ANIMAL LIFE 83 electric battery of certain Hels, of the Electric Cat Fish, and the Torpedoes, one of which is said to. be able to discharge an amount of electricity sufficient to kill a Man. Some of the Meduse and other Zoophytes are armed by millions of minute organs known as “thread cells.” Hach consists of a cell, within which a firm, elastic thread is tightly coiled. The moment the Medusa touches its prey the cells burst and the threads spring out. Entermg the flesh as they do by myriads, they prove very ettfective weapons. The ink of the Sepia has passed into a proverb. The animal possesses a store of dark fluid, which, if attacked, it at once ejects, and thus escapes under cover of the cloud thus created. The so-called Bombardier Beetles, when at- tacked, discharge at the enemy, from the hinder part of their body, an acrid fluid which, as soon as it comes in contact with air, ex- plodes with a sound resembling a miniature gun. Westwood mentions, on the authority of Burchell, that on one occasion, “ whilst resting for the night on the banks of one of 84 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. the large South American rivers, he went out with a lantern to make an astronomical obser- vation, accompanied by one of his black ser- vant boys; and as they were proceeding, their attention was directed to numerous beetles running about upon the shore, which, when captured, proved to be specimens of a large species of Brachinus. On being seized they immediately began to play off their artil- lery, burning and staining the flesh to such a degree that only a few specimens could be captured with the naked hand, and leaving a mark which remained a considerable time. Upon observing the whitish vapour with which the explosions were accompanied, the negro exclaimed in his broken English, with evi- dent surprise, ‘Ah, massa, they make smoke!’ ”’ Many other remarkable illustrations might be quoted; as for instance the web of the Spider, the pit of the Ant Lion, the mephitic odour of the Skunk. SENSES We generally attribute to animals five senses more or less resembling our own. But III ON ANIMAL LIFE 85 even as regards our own senses we really know or understand very little. Take the question of colour. The rainbow is commonly said to consist of seven colours — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. But it is now known that all our colour sensations are mixtures of three simple col- ours, red, green, and violet. We are, how- ever, absolutely ignorant how we perceive these colours. Thomas Young suggested that we have three different systems of nerve fibres, and Helmholtz regards this as “a not improbable supposition”’; but so far as mi- croscopical examination is concerned, there is no evidence whatever for it. Or take again the sense of Hearing. The vibrations of the air no doubt play upon the drum of the ear, and the waves thus produced - are conducted through a complex chain of small bones to the fenestra ovalis and so to the inner ear or labyrinth. But beyond this all is uncertainty. The labyrinth consists mainly of two parts (1) the cochlea, and (2) the semicircular canals, which are three in number, standing at right angles to one 86 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. another. It has been supposed that they enable us to maintain the equilibrium of the body, but no satisfactory explanation of: their function has yet been given. In the cochlea, Corti discovered a remarkable organ consist- ing of some four thousand complex arches, which increase regularly in length and dimin- ish in height. They are connected at one end with the fibres of the auditory nerve, and Helmholtz has suggested that the waves of sound play on them, like the fingers of a per- former on the keys of a piano, each separate arch corresponding to a different sound. We thus obtain a glimpse, though but a glimpse, of the manner in which perhaps we hear; but when we pass on to the senses of smell and taste, all we know is that the extreme nerve fibres terminate in certain cells which differ in form from those of the general surface ; but in what manner the innumerable differ- ences of taste or smell are communicated to the brain, we are absolutely ignorant. If then we know so little about ourselves, no wonder that with reference to other ani- mals our ignorance is extreme. III ON ANIMAL LIFE 87 We are too apt to suppose that the senses of animals must closely resemble, and be con- fined to ours. No one can doubt that the sensations of other animals differ in many ways from ours. Their organs are sometimes constructed on different principles, and situated in very un- expected places. There are animals which have eyes on their backs, ears in their legs, and sing through their sides. We all know that the senses of animals are in many cases much more acute than ours, as for instance the power of scent in the dog, of sight in the eagle. Moreover, our eye is much more sensitive to some colours than to others ; least so to crimson, then successively to red, orange, yellow, blue, and green; the sensitiveness for green being as much as 750 times as great as for red. This alone may make objects appear of very different colours to different animals. Nor is the difference one of degree merely. The rainbow, as we see it, consists of seven colours — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. But though the red and 88 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, violet are the limits of the visible spectrum, they are not the limits of the spectrum itself, there are rays, though invisible to us, beyond the red at the one end, and beyond the violet at the other: the existence of the ultra red can be demonstrated by the thermometer ; while the ultra violet are capable of taking a photograph. But though the red and violet are respectively the limits of our vision, I have shown’ by experiments which have been repeated and confirmed by other naturalists, that some of the lower animals are capable of perceiving the ultra-violet rays, which to us are invisible. It is an interesting question whether these rays may not produce on them the impression of a new colour, or colours, differing from any of those known to us. So again with hearing, not only may animals in some cases hear better than we do, but sounds which are beyond the reach of our ears, may be audible to theirs. Even among ourselves the power of hearing shrill sounds is greater in some persons than in others. Sound, as we know, is produced by 1 Ants, Bees, and Wasps, and The Senses of Animals. - Ee I ON ANIMAL LIFE 89 vibration of the air striking on the drum of _the ear, and the fewer are the vibrations in a second, the deeper is the sound, which becomes shriller and shriller as the waves of sound become more rapid. In human ears the limits of hearing are reached when about 35,000 vibrations strike the drum of the ear in a second. Whatever the explanation of the gift of hearing in ourselves may be, different plans seem to be adopted in the case of other animals. In many Crustacea and _ Insects there are flattened hairs each connected with a nerve fibre, and so constituted as to vibrate in response to particular notes. In others the ear cavity contains certain minute solid bodies, known as otoliths, which in the same way play upon the nerve fibres. Sometimes these are secreted by the walls of the cavity itself, but certain Crustacea have acquired the remarkable habit of selecting after each moult suitable particles of sand, which they pick up with their pincers and insert into their ears. . Many insects, besides the two large 90) THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE | cnHap. “compound” eyes one on each side of the head, have between them three small ones, known as the “ ocelli,” arranged in a triangle. The structure of these two sets of eyes is quite different. The ocelli appear to see as our eyes do. The lens throws an inverted image on the back of the eye, so that with these eyes they must see everything reversed, as we ourselves really do, though long practice enables us to correct the impression. On the other hand, the compound eyes consist of a number of facets, in some species as many as 20,000 in each eye, and the prevailing impression among entomologists now is that each facet receives the impression of one pencil of rays, that im fact the image formed in a compound eye is a sort of mosaic. In that case, vision by means of these eyes must be direct; and it is indeed difficult to wnderstand how an insect can obtain a correct impression when it looks at the world with five eyes, three of which see everything reversed, while the other two see things the right way up! | On the other hand, some regard each IT ON ANIMAL LIFE 91 facet as an independent eye, in which case many insects realise the epigram of Plato — Thou lookest on the stars, my love, Ah, would that I could be Yon starry skies with thousand eyes, That I might look on thee! Even so, therefore, we only substitute one difficulty for another. But this is not all. We have not only no proof that animals are confined to our five senses, but there are strong reasons for believ- ing that this is not the case. In the first place, many animals have organs which from their position, structure, and rich supply of nerves, are evidently organs of sense; and yet which do not appear to be adapted to any one of our five senses. As already mentioned, the limits of hearing are reached when about 35,000 vibrations of the air strike on the drums of our ears. Light, as was first conclusively demonstrated by our great countryman Young, is the 1m- pression produced by vibration of the ether 92 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. on the retina of the eye. When 700 millions of millions of vibrations strike the eye na second, we see violet; and the colour changes as the number diminishes, 400 millions of millions giving us the impression of red. Between 35 thousand and 400 millions of millions the interval is immense, and it is obvious that there might be any number of’ sensations. When we consider how greatly animals differ from us, alike in habits and structure, is it not possible, nay, more, is it not likely that some of these problematical organs are the seats of senses unknown to us, and give rise to sensations of which we have no conception ? In addition to the capacity for receiving and perceiving, some animals have the faculty of emitting light. In our country the glow- worm is the most familiar case, though some other insects and worms have, at any rate under certain conditions, the same power, and it is possible that many others are really lumi- nous, though with light which is invisible to us. In warmer climates the Fire-fly, Lan- thorn-fly, and many other ‘insects, shine with <= III ON ANIMAL LIFE 93 much greater brilliance, and in these cases the glow seems to be a real love-light, like the lamp of Hero. Many small marine animals, Medusa, Crustacea, Worms, ete., are also brilliantly luminous .at night. Deep-sea animals are endowed also in many cases with special luminous organs, to which I shall refer again, SENSE OF DIRECTION It has been supposed that animals possess also what has been called a Sense of Direc- tion. Many interesting cases are on record of animals finding their way home after being taken a considerable distance. To account for this fact it has been suggested that animals possess a sense with which we are not endowed, or of which, at any rate, we possess only a trace. The homing instinct of the pigeon has also been ascribed to the same faculty. My brother. Alfred, however, who has paid much attention to pigeons, informs me that they are never taken any great dis- 94 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE cHaP. tance at once; but if they are intended to take a long flight, they are trained to do so by stages. Darwin suggested that it would be inter- esting to test the case by taking animals in a close box, and then whirlmg them round rapidly before letting them out. This is in fact done with cats in some parts of France, when the family migrates, and is considered the only way of preventing the cat from re- turning to the old home. Fabre has tried the same thing with some wild Bees (Chali- codoma). He took some, marked them on the back with a spot of white, and put them into a bag. He then carried them a quarter of a mile, stopping at a point where an old cross stands by the wayside, and whirled the bag rapidly round his head. While he was doing so a good woman came by, who seemed not a little surprised to find the Professor sol- emnly whirling a black bag round his head in front of the cross; and, he fears, suspected him of Satanic practices. He then carried his Bees a mile and a half in the opposite direction and let them go. Three out of ee | ee re a) roe Er SRY ON ae Fy ed PLR IE Km iy me mm | ON ANIMAL LIFE 95 ten found their way home. He tried the game experiment several times, in one case taking them a little over two miles. On an average about a third of the Bees found their way home. “La démonstration,” says Fabre, “est suffisante. Ni les mouvements enchevétrés d’une rotation comme je I’ai dé- crite ; ni obstacle de collines 4 franchir et de bois 4 traverser ; ni les embifiches d’une voie qui s’avance, rétrograde, et revient par un ample circuit, ne peuvent troubler les Chalico- domes dépaysés et les empécher de revenir au nid.” I must say, however, that I am _ not convinced. In the first place, the distances -were I think too short; and in the second, though it is true that some of the Bees found their way home, nearly two-thirds failed to do so. It would be interesting to try the experiment again, taking the Bees say five miles. If they really possess any such sense, that distance would be no bar to their return. I have myself experimented with Ants, taking them about fifty yards from the nest, and I always found that they wandered aimlessly 96 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, about, having evidently not the slightest idea of their way home. They certainly did not appear to possess any “‘ sense of direction.” NUMBER OF SPECIES The total number of species may probably be safely estimated as at least 2,000,000, of which but a fraction have yet been described or named. Of extinct species the number was probably at least as great. In the geological history of the earth there have been at least twelve periods, in each of which by far the greatest number were distinct. The Ancient Poets described certain gifted mortals as having been privileged to descend into the interior of the earth, and exercised their imagination in recounting the wonders thus revealed. As in other cases, however, the realities of Science have proved far more varied and surprising than the dreams of fiction. Of these extinct species our knowl- edge is even more incomplete than that of the existing species. But even of our contem- It ON ANIMAL LIFE 97 poraries it is not too much to say that, as in the case of plants, there is not one the structure, habits, and life-history of which are yet fully known to us. The male of the Cynips, which produces the common King Charles Oak Apple, has only recently been discovered, those of the root-feeding Aphides, which live in hundreds in every nest of the yellow Meadow Ant (Lasius flavus) are still un- known; the habits and mode of reproduction of the common Eel have only just been dis- covered ; and we may even say generally that many of the most interesting recent discover- ies have relation to the commonest and most familiar animals. IMPORTANCE OF THE SMALLER ANIMALS Whatever pre-eminence Man may claim for himself, other animals have done far more to affect the face of nature. The principal agents have not been the larger or more in- telligent, but rather the. smaller, and individ- ually less important, species. Beavers may have dammed up many of the rivers of Brit- H 98 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, ish Columbia, and turned them into a suc- cession of pools or marshes, but this is a slight matter compared with the action of earthworms and insects’ in the creation of vegetable soil; of the accumulation of ant- malcules in filling up harbours and lakes; or of Zoophytes in the construction of coral islands. Microscopic animals make up in number what they lack in size. Paris is built of Infusoria. The Peninsula of Florida, 78,000 square miles in extent, is entirely composed of coral débris and fragments of shells. Chalk consists mainly of Foraminifera and fragments - of shells deposited in a deep sea. The num- ber of shells required to make up a cubic inch is almost incredible. Ehrenberg has estimated that of the Bilin polishing slate which caps the mountain, and has a thickness of forty feet, a cubic inch contains many hundred million shells of Infusoria. In another respect these microscopic organ- 1 Prof. Drummond (Tropical Africa) dwells with great force on the manner in which the soil of Central Africa is worked up by the White Ants. a ieee, i ie Te ee ee ee REE SALES HP ur ON ANIMAL LIFE ~ 99 isms are of vital importance. Many diseases are now known, and others suspected, to be entirely due to Bacteria and other minute forms of life (Microbes), which multiply in- - credibly, and either destroy their victims, or after a while diminish again in numbers. We live indeed in a cloud of Bacteria. At the observatory of Montsouris at Paris it has been calculated that there are about 80 in each cubic meter of air. Elsewhere, however, they are much more numerous. Pasteur’s re- searches on the Silkworm disease led him to the discovery of Bacterium anthracis, the cause of splenic fever. Microbes are present in persons suffering from cholera, typhus, whooping-cough, measles, hydrophobia, etc., but as to their history and connection with disease we have yet much to learn. It is fortunate, indeed, that they do not all at- tack us. In surgical cases, again, the danger of com- pound fractures and mortification of wounds has been found to be mainly due to the pres- ence of microscopic organisms; and Lister, by his antiseptic treatment which destroys these 100 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. germs or prevents their access, has greatly diminished the danger of operations, and the sufferings of recovery. SIZE OF ANIMALS In the size of animals we find every grada- tion from these atoms which even in the most powerful microscopes appear as mere points, up to the gigantic reptiles of past ages and the Whales of our present ocean. The horned Ray or Skate is 25 feet in length, by 30 in width. The Cuttle-fishes of our seas, though so hideous as to resemble a bad dream, are too small to be formidable ; but off the Newfound- land coast is a species with arms sometimes 30 feet long, so as to be 60 feet from tip to tip. The body, however, is small in propor- tion. The Giraffe attains a height of over 20 feet; the Elephant, though not so tall, is more bulky; the Crocodile reaches a length of over 20 feet, the Python of 60 feet, the extinct Titanosaurus of the American Jurassic beds, the largest land animal yet known to us, 100 feet in length and 30 in height; the ales ON ANIMAL LIFE 101 Whalebone- Whale over 70 feet, Sibbald’s Whale is said to have reached 80-90, which is perhaps the limit. Captain Scoresby in- deed mentions a Rorqual no less than 120 feet in length, but this is probably too great an estimate. COMPLEXITY OF ANIMAL STRUCTURE The complexity of animal structure is even more marvellous than their mere magnitude. A Caterpillar contains more than 2000 mus- cles. In our own body are some 2,000,000 perspiration glands, communicating with the surface by ducts having a total length of some 10 miles; while that of the arteries, veins, and capillaries must be very great; the blood contains millions of millions of corpuscles, each no doubt a complex structure in itself; the rods in the retina, which are supposed to be the ultimate recipient of light, are esti- mated at 30,000,000; and Meinert has calcu- lated that the gray matter of the brain is built up of at least 600,000,000 cells. No 102 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. verbal description, however, can do justice to the marvellous complexity of animal structure, which the microscope alone, and even that but faintly, can enable us to realise. LENGTH OF LIFE How little we yet know of the life-history of Animals is illustrated by the vagueness of our information as to the age to which they live. Professor Lankester’* tells us that “ the paucity and uncertainty of observations on this class of facts is extreme.” The Rabbit is said to reach 10 years, the Dog and Sheep 10 —12, the Pig 20, the Horse 30, the Camel 100, the Elephant 200, the Greenland Whale 400 (?): among Birds, the Parrot to attain 100 years, the Raven even more. The Atur Par- rot mentioned by Humboldt, talked, but could not be understood, because it spoke in the language of an extinct Indian tribe. It is supposed from their rate of growth that among 1 Lankester, Comparative Longevity. See also Weismann, Duration of Life. a —— _ — _— eo) ae oe eT oe aitees APT oy eh ge wtp II ON ANIMAL LIFE 103 Fish the Carp is said to reach 150 years; and a Pike, 19 feet long, and weighing 350 Ibs., is said to have been taken in Suabia in 1497 carrying a ring, on which was inscribed, “ I am the fish which was first of all put ito the lake by the hands of the Governor of the Uni- verse, Frederick the Second, the 5th Oct. 1230.” This would imply an age of over 267 years. Many Reptiles are no doubt very long- lived. A Tortoise is said to have reached 500 years. As regards the lower animals, the greatest age on record is that of Sir J. Dalzell’s Sea Anemone, which lived for over 50 years. Insects are generally short-lived ; the Queen Bee, however, is said by Aristotle, whose statement has not been confirmed by recent writers, to live 7 years. I myself had a Queen Ant which attained the age of 15 years. The May Fly (Ephemera) is celebrated as living only for a day, and has given its name to all things short-lived. The statement usually made is, indeed, very misleading, for in its larval condition the Ephemera lives for weeks. Many writers have expressed surprise 104. THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE cmap. that in the perfect state its life should be so short. It is, however, so defenceless, and, moreover, so much appreciated by birds and fish, that unless they laid their eggs very rapidly none would perhaps survive to con- tinue the species. Many of these estimates are, as will be seen, very vague and doubtful, so that we must still admit with Bacon that, “ touching the length and shortness of life in living creatures, the information which may be had is but slender, observation is negligent, and tradition fabulous. In tame creatures their degenerate life corrupteth them, in wild creat- ures their exposing to all weathers often in- tercepteth them.” ON INDIVIDUALITY When we descend still lower in the animal scale, the consideration of this question opens out a very curious and interesting subject connected with animal individuality. As regards the animals with which we are most {11 ON ANIMAL LIFE 105 familiar no such question intrudes. Among _ quadrupeds and birds, fishes and reptiles, there is no difficulty m deciding whether a given organism is an individual, or a part of an individual. Nor does the difficulty arise in the case of most insects. The Bee or But- terfly lays an egg which develops successively into a larva and pupa, finally producing Bee or Butterfly. Im these cases, therefore, the ego, larva, pupa, and perfect Insect, are re- garded as stages in the life of a single indi- vidual. In certain gnats, however, the larva itself produces young larvee, each of which develops into a gnat, so that the egg produces not one gnat but many gnats. The difficulty of determining what consti- tutes an individual becomes still greater among the Zoophytes. These beautiful creatures in many cases so closely resemble plants, that until our countryman Ellis proved them to be animals, Crabbe was justified in saying — Involved in seawrack here we find a race, Which Science, doubting, Knows not where to place ; On shell or stone is dropped the embryo seed, And quickly vegetates a vital breed. 106 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, We cannot wonder that such organisms were long regarded as belonging to the vegetable kingdom. The cups which terminate the branches contain, however, an animal struct- ure, resembling a small Sea Anemone, and possessing arms which capture the food by which the whole colony is nourished. Some of these cups, moreover, differ from the rest, and produce eggs. These then we might be disposed to term ovaries. But in many species they detach themselves from the group and lead an independent existence. Thus we find a complete gradation from structures which, regarded by themselves, we should un- questionably regard as mere organs, to others which are certainly separate and independent beings. Fig. 2 represents, after Allman, a colony of Bougainvillea fruticosa of the natural size. It is a British species, which is found growing on buoys, floating timber, etc., and, says Allman, “ When in health and vigour, offers a spectacle unsurpassed in interest by any other species — every branchlet crowned by its graceful hydranth, and budding with Me- a a ee ~ ul ON ANIMAL LIFE~ 107 duse in all stages of development (Fig. 3), some still in the condition of minute buds, in which no trace of the definite Medusa-form can yet Fig. 2. — Bougainvillea fruticosa; natural size. (After Allman.) be detected ; others, in which the outlines of the Medusa can be distinctly traced within the transparent ectotheque (external layer) ; others, again, just casting off this thin outer pellicle, and others completely freed from it, struggling with convulsive efforts to break loose from the colony, and finally launched 108 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. forth in the full enjoyment of their freedom into the surrounding water. I know of no. . fr f \ WAI Jo NX CESS S-* J eb \ i by WA x \ 4 WA4 o fy Si) /3/ LIVE yy Z i \\ yy - / Z ans Ii y } 7) A if > iv M/A Mad ~ i # hy Ze BD i fs Zs = i Y ZZ eee . *) Y ——_————S Hy Wit KEZz, S ¥ 1? 5 Fig. 3.— Bougainvillea fruticosa; magnified to show development. form in which so many of the characteristic features of a typical hydroid are more finely expressed than in this beautiful species.” rt ON ANIMAL LIFE 109 Fig. 4 represents the Medusa or free form of this beautiful species. If we pass to another great group of Zoophytes, that of the Jelly-fishes, we have a very similar case. For our first knowl- edge of the life-history of these Zoophytes we are indebted to the Nor- wegian naturalist Sars. Take, for instance, the common Jelly-fish (Me- dusa aurita) (Fig. 5) of Fig. 4.— Bougainvillea — oF ea ) ( 8 ) fruticosa, Medusa-form. The egg is a pear-shaped body (7), covered with fine hairs, by the aid of which it swims about, the broader end in front. After a while it attaches itself, not as might have been expected by the posterior but by the anterior extremity (2). The cilia then dis- appear, a mouth is formed at the free end, tentacles, first four (7), then eight, and at length as many as thirty (¢), are formed, and the little creature resembles in essentials the freshwater polyp (Hydra) of our ponds. “110 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. At the same time transverse wrinkles (¢) are formed round the body, first near the free extremity and then gradually descend- ing. They become deeper and deeper, and develop lobes or divisions one under the other, 4 Veer ee ( Fig. 5. — Medusa aurita, and progressive stages of development. as at 5. After a while the top ring (and subsequently the others one by one) detaches itself, swims away, and gradually develops into a Medusa (6). Thus, then, the life-his- tory is very similar to that of the Hydroids, only that while in the Hydroids the fixed condition is the more permanent, and the free 1 ON ANIMAL LIFE 111 swimming more transitory, in the Medusz, on the contrary, the fixed condition is apparently only a phase in the production of the free swimming animal. In both the one and the other, however, the egg gives rise not to one but to many mature animals. Steenstrup has given to these curious phenomena, many other cases of which occur among the lower animals, and to which he first called attention, the name of alternations of generations. In the life-history of Infusoria (so called because they swarm in most animal or vege- table infusions) similar difficulties encounter _ us. The little creatures, many of which are round or oval in form, from time to time become constricted in the middle; the con- striction becomes deeper and deeper, and at length the two halves twist themselves apart and swim away. In this case, therefore, there was one, and there are now two exactly sim- ilar; but are these two individuals? They are not parent and offspring — that is clear, for they are of the same age; nor are they twins, for there is no parent. As already mentioned, we regard the Caterpillar, Chrys- 112 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, alis, and Butterfly as stages in the life-history of a single individual. But among Zoophytes, and even among some insects, one larva often produces several mature forms. In some species these mature forms remain attached to the larval stock, and we might be disposed to regard the whole as one complex organism. But in others they detach themselves and lead an independent existence. These considerations then introduce much difficulty into our conception of the idea of an Individual. ANIMAL IMMORTALITY But, further than this, we are confronted by another problem. If we regard a mass of coral as an individual because it arises by continuous growth from a single egg, then it follows that some corals must be thousands of years old. Some of the lower animals may be cut into pieces, and each piece will develop into an , ow 9 III ON ANIMAL LIFE 113 entire organism. In fact the realisation of the idea of an individual gradually becomes more and more difficult, and the continuity of existence, even among the highest animals, gradually forces itself upon us. I believe that as we become more rational, as we real- ise more fully the conditions of existence, this consideration is likely to have important moral results. It is generally considered that death is the common lot of all living beings. But is this necessarily so? Infusoria and other unicellu- lar animals multiply by division. That is to say, if we watch one for a certain time, we shall observe, as already mentioned, that a constriction takes place, which grows gradu- ally deeper and deeper, until at last the two halves become quite detached, and each swims away independently. The process is repeated over and over again, and in this manner the species is propagated. Here ob- viously there is no birth and no death. Such creatures may be killed, but they have no natural term of life. They are, in fact, theo- . | 114 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 111 retically immortal. Those which lived mil- lions of years ago may have gone on dividing and subdividing, and in this sense multitudes © _ of the lower animals are millions of years old. | a0) ae. CHAPTER IV $55 pe ON PLANT LIFE | ae Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is. TENNYSON. ~ CHAPTER IV ON PLANT LIFE We are told that in old days the Fairies used to give presents of Flowers and Leaves to those whom they wished to reward, or whom they loved best ; and though these gifts were, it appears, often received with disappoint- ment, still it will probably be admitted that flowers have contributed more to the happi- ness of our lives than either gold or silver or precious stones; and that our happiest days have been spent out-of-doors in the woods and fields, when we have . . . found in every woodland way The sunlight tint of Fairy Gold.t To many minds Flowers acquired an ad- ditional interest when it was shown that 1 Thomson. 117 118 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. there was a reason for their colour, size, and form —in fact, for every detail of their organ- isation. If we did but know all that the smallest flower could tell us, we should have solved some of the greatest mysteries of Nature. But we cannot hope to succeed — even if we had the genius of Plato or Aris- totle — without careful, patient, and rever- ent study. From such an inquiry we may hope much ; already we have glimpses, enough to convince us that the whole history will open out to us conceptions of the Universe wider and grander than any which the Imagi- nation alone would ever have suggested. Attempts to explain the forms, colours, and other characteristics of animals and plants are by no means new. Our Teutonic fore- fathers had a pretty story which explained certain points about several common plants. Balder, the God of Mirth and Merriment, was, characteristically enough, regarded as deficient in the possession of immortality. The other divinities, fearing to lose him, petitioned Thor to make him immortal, and the prayer was granted on condition that every animal and cm ; Iv ON PLANT LIFE 119 plant would swear not to injure him. To secure this object, Nanna, Balder’s wife, descended upon the earth. Loki, the God of Envy, followed her, disguised as a crow (which at that time were white), and settled on a little blue flower, hoping to cover it up, so that Nanna might overlook it. The flower, however, cried out “forget-me-not, forget-me- r= not; 99 and has ever since been known under that name. Loki then flew up into an oak and sat on a mistletoe. Here he was more successful. Nanna carried off the oath of the oak, but overlooked the mistletoe. She thought, however, and the divinities thought, that she had successfully accomplished her mission, and that Balder had received the gift of immortality. One day, supposing Balder proof, they amused themselves by shooting at him, post- ‘ing him against a Holly. Loki tipped an arrow with a piece of Mistletoe, against which Balder was not proof, and gave it to Balder’s brother. This, unfortunately, pierced him to the heart, and he fell dead. Some drops of his blood spurted on to the Holly, which 120 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. accounts for the redness of the berries; the Mistletoe was so grieved that she has ever since borne fruit like tears; and the crow, whose form Loki had taken, and which till then had been white, was turned black. This pretty myth accounts for several things, but is open to fatal objections. Recent attempts to explain the facts of - Nature are not less fascinating, and, I think, more successful. Why then this marvellous variety? this inexhaustible treasury of beautiful forms? Does it result from some imnate tendency in each species? Is it intentionally designed to delight the eye of man? Or has the form and size and texture some reference to the structure and organisation, the habits and requirements of the whole plant ? I shall never forget hearing Darwin’s paper on the structure of the Cowslip and Primrose, after which even Sir Joseph Hooker compared himself to Peter Bell, to whom A primrose by a river’s brim A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more. IV ON PLANT LIFE 121 We all, I think, shared the same feeling, and found that the explanation of the flower then given, and to which I shall refer again, in- vested it with fresh interest and even with new beauty. A regular flower, such, for instance, as a Geranium or a Pink, consists of four or more whorls of leaves, more or less modified: the lowest whorl is the Calyx, and the separate leaves of which it is composed, which however are sometimes united into a tube, are called sepals; (2) a second whorl, the corolla, con- sisting of coloured leaves called petals, which, however, like those of the Calyx, are often united into a tube; (3) of one or more sta- mens, consisting of a stalk or filament, and a head or anther, in which the pollen is pro- duced ; and (4) a pistil, which is situated in the centre of the flower, and at the base of which is the Ovary, containing one or more seeds. Almost all large flowers are brightly col- oured, many produce honey, and many are sweet-scented. What, then, is the use and purpose of this complex organisation ? 122 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. It is, I think, well established that the main object of the colour, scent, and honey of flowers is to attract insects, which are of use to the plant in carrying the pollen from flower to flower. . In many species the pollen is, and no doubt it originally was in all, carried by the air. In these cases the chance against any given grain of pollen reaching the pistil of another flower of the same species is of course very great, and the quantity of pollen required is therefore immense. In species where the pollen is wind-borne as in most of our trees — firs, oaks, beech, ash, elm, etc., and many herbaceous plants, the flowers are as a rule small and inconspic- uous, greenish, and without either scent or honey. Moreover, they generally flower early, so that the pollen may not be intercepted by the leaves, but may have a better chance of reaching another flower. And they produce an immense quantity of pollen, as otherwise there would be little chance that any would reach the female. flower. Every one must have noticed the clouds of pollen produced by IV ON PLANT LIFE 123 the Scotch Fir. When, on the contrary, the pollen is carried by insects, the quantity nec- essary is greatly reduced. Still it has been calculated that. a Peony flower produces be- tween 3,000,000 and 4,000,000 pollen grains ; in the Dandelion, which is more specialised, the number is reduced to about 250,000 ; while in such a flower as the Dead-nettle it is still smaller. The honey attracts the insects; while the scent and colour help them to find the flowers, the scent being especially useful at night, which is perhaps the reason why evening flowers are so sweet. It is to insects, then, that flowers owe their beauty, scent, and sweetness. Just as gardeners, by continual selection, have added so much to the beauty of our gardens, so to the unconscious action of insects is due the beauty, scent, and sweetness of the flowers of our woods and fields. Let us now apply these views to a few common flowers. ‘Take, for instance, the White Dead-nettle. The corolla of this beautiful and familiar 124 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. flower (Fig. 6) consists of a narrow tube, some- what expanded at the upper end (Fig. 7), where the lower lobe forms a platform, on each side of which is a small projecting. tooth (Fig. 8,m). The upper portion of the corolla is an arched hood (co), under which lie four anthers (a a), in pairs, while between them, and projecting some- what downwards, is the pointed pistil (s¢) ; the tube at the lower part contains honey, and above the honey is a row of hairs running round the tube. Now, why has the flower this peculiar form? What regulates the length of the tube? What is the use of the arch? What lesson do the little teeth teach us? What advantage is the honey to the flower? Of what use is the fringe of hairs? Why does the stigma project beyond the Fig. 6.— White Dead-nettle. elnino eer er ean ere Prey PETA, FS GAGND TH IETS Say pee IV ON PLANT LIFE 125 anthers? Why is the corolla white, while the rest of the plant is green? The honey of course serves to attract the Humble Bees by which the flower is fertilised, and to which it is especially adapted; the Fig. 7. Fig. 8. white colour makes the flower more conspicu- ous; the lower lip forms the stage on which the Bees may alight; the length of the tube is adapted to that of their proboscis; its narrowness and the fringe of fine hairs exclude small insects which might rob the flower of its honey without performing any service in return; the arched upper lip protects the stamens and pistil, and prevents rain-drops from choking up the tube and washing away the honey; the little teeth are, I believe, of 126 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, no use to the flower in its present condition, they are the last relics of lobes once much larger, and still remaining so in some allied species, but which in the Dead-nettle, being no longer of any use, are gradually disap- pearing; the height of the arch has refer- ence to the size of the Bee, bemg just so much above the alighting stage that the Bee, while sucking the honey, rubs its back against the hood and thus comes in contact first with the stigma and then with the anthers, the pollen-grains from which adhere to the hairs on the Bee’s back, and are thus carried off to the next flower which the Bee visits, when some of them are then licked off by the viscid tip of the stigma." In the Salvias, the common blue Salvia of our gardens, for instance,—a plant allied to the Dead-nettle,—the flower (Fig. 9) is con- structed on the same plan, but the arch is much larger, so that the back of the Bee does not nearly reach it. The stamens, however, have undergone a remarkable modification. Two of them have become small and function- 1 Lubbock, Flowers and Insects. PP RO ai IV te ON PLANT LIFE 127 less. In the other two the anthers or cells pro- ducing the pollen, which in most flowers form together a round knob or head at the top of the stamen, are separated by a long arm, which plays on the top of the stamen as on a hinge. Of these two arms one hangs down into the tube, closing the passage, while the other Fig. 9. lies under the arched upper lip. Wien 3 the Bee pushes its proboscis down the tube (Fig. 11) Fig. 10. ; Fig. 11. it presses the lower arm to one side, and the . upper arm consequently descends, tapping the 128 _ ‘THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, Bee on the back, and dusting it with pollen. When the flower is a little older the pistil (Fig. 9, p) has elongated so that the stigma (Fig. 10, st) touches the back of the Bee and carries off some of the pollen. This sounds a little complicated, but is clear enough if we take a twig or stalk of grass and push it down the tube, when one arm of each of the two larger stamens will at once make its appearance. It is one of the most beautiful pieces of plant mechanism which I know, and was first described by Sprengel, a poor German schoolmaster. SNAPDRAGON At first sight it may seem an objection to the view here advocated that the flowers in some species —as, for instance, the common Snapdragon (Antirrhinum), which, according to the above given tests, ought to be fertilised by insects — are entirely closed. A little con- sideration, however, will suggest the reply. The Snapdragon is especially adapted for IV ON PLANT LIFE 129 fertilisation by Humble Bees. The stamens and pistil are so arranged that smaller species would not effect the object. It is therefore an advantage that they should be excluded, and in fact they are not strong enough to move the spring. The Antirrhinum is, so to speak, a closed box, of which the Humble Bees alone possess the key. FURZE, BROOM, AND LABURNUM Other flowers such as the Furze, Broom, Laburnum, etc., are also opened by Bees. The petals lock more or less into one an- other, and the flower remains at first closed. When, however, the insect alighting on it presses down the keel, the flower bursts ppeus and dusts it with pollen. SWEET PEA In the above cases the flower once opened does not close again. In others, such as the Sweet Pea and the Bird’s-foot Lotus, Nature K 130 . THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, ° has been more careful. When the Bee alights it clasps the “wings” of the flower with its legs, thus pressmg them down; they are, | however, locked into the “ keel,’ or lower petal, which accordingly is also forced down, thus exposing the pollen which rubs against, and part of which sticks to, the breast of the Bee. When she leaves the flower the keel and wings rise again, thus protecting the rest of the pollen and keeping it ready until another visitor comes. It is easy to carry out the same process with the fingers. PRIMULA In the Primrose and Cowslip, again, we find quite a different plan. It had long been known that if a number of Cowslips or Prim- roses are examined, about half would be found to have the stigma at the top of the tube and the stamens half way down, while in the other half the stamens are at the top and the stigma half way down. These two forms are about equally numerous, but never occur on the IV ON PLANT LIFE 131 same stock. They have been long known to children and gardeners, who call them thrum- eyed and pin-eyed. Mr. Darwin was the first to explain the significance of this curious difference. It cost him several years of patient labour, but when once pointed out it is sufficiently obvious. An insect thrusting its x 250 Fig. 12. Fig. 13. Flower and Pollen of Primrose proboscis down a primrose of the long-styled form (Fig. 12) would dust its proboscis at a part (a) which, when it visited a short-styled - flower (Fig. 13), would come just opposite the head of the pistil (st), and could not fail to deposit some of the-pollen on the stigma. Conversely, an insect visiting a short-styled plant would dust its proboscis at a part farther 132 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. from the tip; which, when the insect subse- quently visited a long-styled flower, would again come just opposite to the head of the pistil. Hence we see that by this beautiful arrangement insects must carry the pollen of the long-styled form to the short-styled, and vice versa. The economy of pollen is not the only advantage which plants derive from these visits of Insects. A second and scarcely less important is that they tend to secure “ cross fertilisation’; that is to say, that the seed shall be fertilised by pollen from another plant. The fact that “cross fertilisation” is of advantage to the plant doubtless also explains the curious arrangement that in many plants the stamen and pistil do not mature at the same time — the former having shed their pollen before the pistil 1s mature ; or, which happens less often, the pistil having withered before the pollen is ripe. In most Geraniums, Pinks, etc., for instance, and many allied species, the stamens ripen first, and are followed after an interval by the pistil. IV ON PLANT LIFE 138 THE NOTTINGHAM CATCHFLY The Nottingham Catchfly (Silene nutans) is a very interesting case. The flower is adapted to be fertilised by Moths. Accord- ingly it opens towards evening, and as is generally the case with such flowers, is pale in colour, and sweet-scented. There are two sets of stamens, five in each set. ‘The first evening that the flower opens one set of sta- mens ripen and expose their pollen. ‘Towards morning these wither away, the flower shrivels up, ceases to emit scent, and looks as if it were faded. So it remains all next day. Towards evening it reopens, the second set of stamens have their turn, and the flower again becomes fragrant. By morning, however, the second set of stamens have shrivelled, and the flower is again asleep. Finally.on the third evening it re-opens for the last time, the long spiral stigmas expand, and can hardly fail to be fertilised with the pollen brought by Moths from other flowers. 134 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. THE HEATH ‘In the hanging flowers of Heaths the sta- mens form a ring, and each one bears two horns. When the Bee inserts its proboscis into the flower to reach the honey, it is sure to press against one of these horns, the ring is dislocated, and the pollen falls on to the head of the insect. In fact, any number of other interesting cases might be mentioned. BEES AND FLIES Bees are intelligent insects, and would soon cease to visit flowers which did not supply them with food. Flies, however, are more stupid, and are often deceived. Thus in our lovely little Parnassia, five of the ten stamens have ceased to produce pollen, but are pro- longed into fingers, each terminating in a shining yellow knob, which looks exactly like a drop of honey, and by which Flies are con- IV ON PLANT LIFE 135 tinually deceived. Paris quadrifolia also takes them in with a deceptive promise of the same kind. Some foreign plants have livid yellow and reddish flowers, with a most offen- sive smell, and are constantly visited by Flies, which apparently take them for pieces of decaying meat. The flower of the common Lords and Ladies (Arum) of our hedges is a very interesting case. The narrow neck bears a number of hairs pointing downwards. The stamens are situated above the stigma, which comes to maturity first. Small Flies enter the flower apparently for shelter, but the hairs prevent them from returning, and they are kept captive until the anthers have shed their pollen. Then, when the Flies have been well dusted, the hairs shrivel up, leaving a clear road, and the prisoners are permitted to escape. The tubular flowers of Aristolochia offer a very similar case. Fig. 14.—Arum. 136 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, PAST HISTORY OF FLOWERS If the views here advocated are correct, it follows that the original flowers were small and green, as wind-fertilised flowers are even now. But such flowers are inconspicuous. Those which are coloured, say yellow or white, are of course much more visible and more. likely to be visited by insects. I have else- where given my reasons for thinking that under these circumstances some flowers be- came yellow, that some of them became white, others subsequently red, and some finally blue. It will be observed that red and blue flowers are as a rule highly specialised, such as Aconites and Larkspurs as compared with Buttercups; blue Gentians as compared with yellow, etc- I have found by experiment that Bees are especially partial to blue and pink. Tubular flowers almost always, if not always, contain honey, and are specially suited to Butterflies and Moths, Bees and Flies. Those which are fertilised by Moths generally Iv ON PLANT LIFE 137 come out in the evening, are often very sweetly scented, and are generally white or pale yellow, these colours being most visible in the twilight. Aristotle long ago noticed the curious fact that in each journey Bees confine themselves to some particular flower. This is an economy of labour to the Bee, because she has not to vary her course of proceeding. It is also an advantage to the plants, because the pollen is carried from each flower to another of the same species, and is therefore less likely to be wasted. FRUITS AND SEEDS After the flower comes the seed, often contained in a fruit, and which itself en- closes the future plant. Fruits and seeds are adapted for dispersion, beautifully and in various ways: some by the wind, being either provided with a wing, as in the fruits of many trees — Sycamores, Ash, Elms, ete.; or with a hairy crown or covering, as with Thistles, Dandelions, Willows, Cotton plant, ete. 138 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Some seeds are carried by animals; either as food — such as most edible fruits and seeds, acorns, nuts, apples, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, plums, grasses, etc. —or invol- untarily, the seeds having hooked hairs or processes, such as burrs, cleavers, etc. Some seeds are scattered by the plants themselves, as, for instance, those of many Geraniums, Violets, Balsams, Shamrocks, ete. Our little Herb Robert throws its seeds some 25 feet. Some seeds force themselves into the ground, as those of certain grasses, Cranes’- bills (Hrodiums), ete. Some are buried by the parent plants, as those of certain clovers, vetches, violets, etc. Some attach themselves to the soil, as those of the Flax; or to trees, as in the case of the Mistletoe. LEAVES Again, as regards the leaves there can, I think, be no doubt that similar considerations Iv ON PLANT LIFE 139 of utility are applicable. Their forms are almost infinitely varied. To quote Ruskin’s vivid words, they “take all kinds of strange shapes, as if to invite us to examine them. Star-shaped, heart-shaped, spear-shaped, arrow- shaped, fretted, fringed, cleft, furrowed, ser- rated, smuated, in whorls, in tufts, in spires, in .wreaths, endlessly expressive, deceptive, fantastic, never the same from foot-stalk to blossom, they seem perpetually to tempt our watchfulness and take delight in outstepping our wonder.” But besides these differences of mere form, there are many others: of structure, texture, and surface; some are scented or have a strong taste, or acrid juice, some are smooth, others hairy; and the hairs again are of various kinds. 2 I have elsewhere! endeavoured to explain some of the causes which have determined these endless varieties. In the Beech, for in- stance (Fig. 15), the leaf has an area of about 3 square inches. The distance between the buds is about 14 inch, and the leaves lie in 1 Flowers, Fruits, and Leaves. 140 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, the general plane of the branch, which bends slightly at each internode.. The basal half of the leaf fits the swell of the twig, while the upper. half follows the edge of the leaf above; and the form of the inner edge being thus determined, decides that of the outer one also. The weight, and con- sequently the size of the leaf, is limited by the strength of the twig; and, again, in a climate such as ours it is important to plants to have their leaves so arranged as to secure the maximum of light. Hence in leaves which lie parallel to the plane of the boughs, as in the Beech, the width depends partly on the distance between the buds; if the leaves were broader, they would overlap, if they were narrower, space would be wasted. Consequently the width being determined by the distance between the buds, and the size depending on the weight Fig. 15.— Beech. IV ON PLANT LIFE 144 which the twig can safely support, the length also is determined. This argument is well illustrated by comparing the leaves of the Beech with those of the Spanish Chestnut. The arrangement is similar, and the distance between the buds being about the same, so is the width of the leaves. But the terminal branches of the Spanish Chestnut being much stronger, the leaves can safely be heavier ; hence the width being fixed, they grow in length and assume the well-known and peculiar sword-blade shape. In the Sycamores, Maples (Fig. 16), and Horse-Chestnuts the arrangement is altogether different. The shoots are stiff and upright with leaves placed at right angles to the branches instead of beimg parallel to them. The leaves are in pairs and decussate with one another ; while the lower ones have long petioles which bring them almost to the level of the upper pairs, the whole thus forming a beautiful dome. For leaves arranged as in the Beech the gentle swell at the base is admirably suited ; but in a crown of leaves such as those of the 142 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, Sycamore, space would be wasted, and it is better that they should expand at once, so soon as their stalks have carried them free from the upper and inner leaves. In the Black Poplar the arrangement of the leaves is again quite different. The leaf stalk is flattened, so that the leaves hang Fig. 16.— Acer platanoides. vertically. In connection with this it will be observed that while in most leaves the upper and under surfaces are quite unlike, in the Black Poplar on the contrary they are very similar. The stomata or breathing holes, moreover, which in the leaves of most trees are confined to the under surface, are in this species nearly equally numerous on both. Iv ON PLANT LIFE 143 The “Compass” Plant of the American prairies, a plant not unlike a small sunflower, is another species with upright leaves, which growing in the wide open prairies tend to point north and south, thus exposing both surfaces equally to the light and heat. Such a position also affects the internal structure of the leaf, the two sides becoming similar in structure, while in other cases the upper and under surfaces are very different. In the Yew the leaves are inserted close to one another, and are linear; while in the Box they are further apart and_ broader. In other cases the width of the leaves is determined by what botanists call the “ Phyl- lotaxy.” Some plants have the leaves oppo- site, each pair being at right angles with the pairs above and below. In others they are alternate, and arranged round the stem in a spiral. In one very common arrangement the sixth leaf stands directly over the first, the intermediate ones forming a spiral which has passed twice round the stem. This, therefore, is known as the 2 arrangement. Common cases are }, 4, 2, , 144 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE. CHAP. and ,’;. In the first the leaves are generally | broad, in the @ arrangement they are elliptic, in the >; and more complicated arrangements nearly linear. The Willows afford a very interesting series. Salix herbacea has the 4 arrangement and rounded leaves, Salix caprea elliptic leaves and 2, Salix pentandra lancet- shaped leaves and 3, and S. incana linear leaves and a +; arrangement. The result is that whether the series consists of 2, 3, 5, 8, or 13 leaves, in every case, if we look perpendicu- larly at a twig the leaves occupy the whole circle. In herbaceous plants upright leaves as a rule are narrow, which is obviously an advan- tage, while prostrate ones are broad. AQUATIC PLANTS Many aquatic plants have two kinds of. leaves ; some more or less rounded, which float on the surface; and others cut up into narrow segments, which remain below. The latter thus present a greater extent of surface. sg bed sous O08 TIZVUA ‘NOILVLADAA OLLVOOY Sle, ‘ re Iv ON PLANT LIFE 145 In air such leaves would be unable even to support their own weight, much less . to resist the force of the wind. In still air, however, for the same reason, finely-divided leaves may be an advantage, while in exposed positions compact and entire leaves are more suitable. Hence herbaceous plants tend to have divided, bushes and trees entire, leaves. There are many cases when even in the same family low and herb-like species have finely- cut leaves, while in shrubby or ligneous ones they more or less resemble those of the Laurel or Beech. These considerations affect trees more than herbs, because trees stand more alone, while herbaceous plants are more affected by sur- rounding plants. Upright ‘leaves tend to be narrow, as in the case of grasses; horizontal leaves, on the contrary, wider. Large leaves are more or less. broken up into leaflets, as in the Ash, Mountain-Ash, Horse-Chest- nut, etc. . The forms of leaves depend also much on the manner in which they are packed into the buds. 146 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. The leaves of our English trees, as I have already said, are so arranged as to secure the maximum of light; in very hot countries the reverse is the case. Hence, in Australia, for instance, the leaves are arranged not hori- zontally, but vertically, so as to present, not their surfaces, but their edges, to the sun. One English plant, a species of lettuce, has the same habit. This consideration has led also to other changes. In many species the leaves are arranged directly under, so as to shelter, one another. The Australian species of Acacia have lost their true leaves, and the parts which in them we generally call leaves are in reality vertically-flattened leaf stalks. In other cases the stem itself is green, and to some extent replaces the leaves. In our common Broom we see an approach to this, and the same feature is more marked in Cactus. Or the leaves become fleshy, thus offermg, in proportion to their volume, a smaller surface for evaporation. Of this the Stonecrops, Mesembryanthemum, etc., are familiar instances. Other modes of checking ee ee fe ee ee — ee Iv ON PLANT LIFE 147 transpiration and thus adapting plants to dry situations are by the development of hairs, by the formation of chalky excretions, by the sap becoming saline or viscid, by the leaf becoming more or less rolled up, or protected by a covering of varnish. Our English trees are for the most part deciduous. Leaves would be comparatively useless in winter when growth is stopped by the cold; moreover, they would hold the snow, and thus cause the boughs to be broken down. Hence perhaps the glossiness of Ever- green leaves, as, for instance, of the Holly, from which the snow slips off. In warmer climates trees tend to retain their leaves, and some species which are deciduous in the north become evergreen, or nearly so, in the south of Europe. Evergreen leaves are as a rule tougher and thicker than those which drop off in autumn ; they require more protection from the weather. But some evergreen leaves are much longer lived than others; those of the Evergreen Oak do not survive a second year, those of the Scotch Pine. live for three, of the Spruce Fir, Yew, etc., for eight or ten, of the 148 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, Pinsapo even eighteen. As a general rule the Conifers with short leaves keep them on for several years, those with long ones for fewer, the length of the leaf being somewhat, in the inverse ratio to the length of its life ; but this is not an invariable criterion, as other circumstances also have to be taken into con- sideration. Leaves with strong scent, aromatic taste, or acrid juice, are characteristic of dry regions, where they run especial danger of being eaten, and where they are thus more or less effec- tively protected. ON HAIRS The hairs of plants are useful in various ways. In some cases (1) they keep off super- fluous moisture; in others (2) they prevent too rapid evaporation ; in some (3) they serve as a protection against too glaring light; in some (4) they protect the plant from brows- ing quadrupeds; in others (5) from being eaten by insects; or, (6) serve as a quickset hedge to prevent access to the flowers. x. eee IV % ON PLANT LIFE 149 In illustration of the first case I may refer to many alpine plants, the well-known Edel- weiss, for instance, where the woolly covering of hairs prevents the “ stomata,’ or minute pores leading into the interior of the leaf, from being clogged up by rain, dew, or fog, and thus enable them to fulfil their functions as soon as the sun comes out. As regards the second case many desert and steppe-plants are covered with felty hairs, which serve to prevent too rapid evaporation | and consequent loss of moisture. The woolly hairy leaves of the Mulleins (Verbascum) doubtless tend to protect them from being eaten, as also do the spines of Thistles, and those of Hollies, which, be it remarked, gradually disappear on the upper leaves which browsing quadrupeds cannot reach. I have already alluded to the various ways in which flowers are adapted to fertilisation by imsects. But Ants and other small creep- ing insects cannot effectually secure this object. Hence it is important that they should be ex- cluded, and not allowed to carry off the honey, 150 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE — CHAP. for which they would perform no service in return. In many cases, therefore, the open- ing of the flower is either contracted to a narrow passage, or is itself protected by a fringe of hairs. In others the peduncle, or the stalk of the plant, 1s protected by a hedge, or chevaux de frise, of hairs. In this connection I might allude to the many plants which are more or less viscid. _ This also is in most cases a provision to pre- clude creeping insects from access to the flowers. There are various other kinds of hairs to which I might refer — glandular hairs, secre- tive hairs, absorbing hairs, etc. It is marvel lous how. beautifully the. form and structure of leaves is adapted to the habits and require- ments of the plants, but I must not enlarge further on this interesting subject. The time indeed will no doubt come when we shall be able to explain every difference of form and structure, almost infinite as these differences are. | ——E— ss SS ee _—— se 2S | Iv ON PLANT LIFE 151 INFLUENCE OF SOIL The character of the vegetation is of course vreatly influenced by that of the soil. In this respect granitic and calcareous regions offer perhaps the best marked contrast. There are in Switzerland two kinds of Rhododendrons, very similar in their flowers, but contrasted in their leaves: Rhododendron hirsutum having them hairy at the edges as the name indicates; while in R. ferrugineum they are rolled, but not hairy, at the edges, and become ferrugineous on the lower side. This species occurs in the granitic regions, where R. hirsutum does not grow. The Yarrows (Achillea) afford us a similar ease. Achillea atrata and A. moschata will live either on calcareous or granitic soil, but in a district where both occur, A. atrata grows so much the more vigorously of the two if the soil is calcareous that it soon _exterminates A. moschata; while in granite districts, on the contrary, A. moschata is victorious and A. atrata disappears. 152 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Every keen sportsman will admit that a varied “bag” has a special charm, and the botanist in a summer’s walk may see at least a hundred plants in flower, all with either the interest of novelty, or the charm of an old friend. ON SEEDLINGS In many cases the Seedlings afford us an interesting insight into the former condition of the plant. Thus the leaves of the Furze are reduced to thorns; but those of the Seed- ling are herbaceous and trifoliate like those of the Herb Genet and other allied species, sub- sequent ones gradually passing into spines. This is evidence that the ancestors of the Furze bore leaves. Plants may be said to have their habits as well as animals. SLEEP OF PLANTS Many flowers close their petals during rain; the advantage of which is that it pre- vents the honey and pollen from being spoilt OO Iv ON PLANT LIFE 153 or washed away. LEverybody, however, has observed that even in fine weather certain flowers close at particular hours. This habit of going to sleep is surely very curious. Why should flowers do so? In animals we can better understand it; they are tired and require rest. But why should flowers sleep ? Why should some flowers do so, and not others? Moreover, different flowers keep different hours. The Daisy opens at sunrise and closes at sunset, whence its name “ day’s- eye.” The Dandelion (Leontodon) is said to open about seven and to close about five; Arenaria rubra to be open from nine to three; the White Water Lily (Nymphea), from about seven to four; the common Mouse-ear Hawk- weed (Hieracium) from eight to three; the Scarlet Pimpernel (Anagallis) to waken at seven and close soon after two; Tragopogon pratensis to open at four in the morning, and close just before twelve, whence its English name, “John go to bed at noon.” Farmers’ boys in some parts are said to regu- late their dinner time by it. Other flowers, on the contrary, open in the evening. 154 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. Now it is obvious that flowers which are fertilised by night-flying insects would derive no advantage from being open by day; and on the other hand, that those which are fertilised by bees would gain nothing by being open at night. Nay it would be a distinct disadvantage, because it would render them liable to be robbed of their honey and pollen, by insects which are not capable of fertilising them. I have ventured to suggest then that the closing of flowers may have reference to the habits of msects, and is may be observed also in support of this, that wind- fertilised flowers do not sleep; and that many of those flowers which attract insects by smell, open and emit their scent at particular hours; thus Hesperis matronalis and Lychnis vespertina smell in the evening, and Orchis - bifolia is particularly sweet at night. But it is not the flowers only which “sleep” at night; in many species the leaves also change their position, and Darwin has given strong reasons for considering that the object is to check transpiration and thus tend to a protection against cold. Iv ON PLANT LIFE -155 BEHAVIOUR OF LEAVES IN RAIN The behaviour of plants with reference to rain affords many points of much interest. The Germander Speedwell (Veronica) has two strong rows of hairs, the Chickweed (Stellaria) one, running down the stem and thus conduct- ing the rain tothe roots. Plants with a main ~tap-root, like the Radish or the Beet, have leaves sloping inwards so as to conduct the rain towards the axis of the plant, and con- sequently to the roots ; while, on the contrary, where the roots are spreading the leaves slope outwards. In other cases the leaves hold the rain or dew drops. Every one who has been in the Alps must have noticed how the leaves of the Lady’s Mantle (Alchemilla) form little cups containing each a sparkling drop of icy water. Kerner has suggested that owing to these cold drops, the cattle and sheep avoid the leaves. 156 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. MIMICRY In many cases plants mimic others which are better protected than themselves. Thus Matricaria Chamomilla mimics the true Cham- omile, which from its bitterness is not eaten by quadrupeds. Ajuga Chamepitys mimics Kuphorbia Cyparissias, with which it often grows, and which is protected by its acrid juice. The most familiar case, however, is that of the Stinging and the Dead Nettles. They very generally grow together, and though belonging to quite different families are so similar that they are constantly mis- taken for one another. Some Orchids have a curious resemblance to insects, after which they have accordingly been named the Bee Orchis, Fly Orchis, Butterfly Orchis, etc., but it has not yet been satisfactorily shown what advantage the resemblance is to the plant. ANTS AND PLANTS The transference of pollen from plant to Iv ON PLANT LIFE 157 plant is by no means the only service which insects render. Ants, for instance, are In many cases very useful to plants. They destroy immense numbers of caterpillars and other insects. Forel observing a large Ants’ nest counted more than 28 insects brought in as food per minute. In some cases Ants attach them- selves to particular trees, constituting a sort of bodyguard. A species of Acacia, described by Belt, bears hollow thorns, while each leaflet produces honey in a crater-formed gland at the base, as well as a small, sweet, pear- shaped body at the tip. In consequence it is inhabited by myriads of a small ant, which nests in the hollow thorns, and thus finds meat, drink, and lodging all provided for it. These ants are continually roaming over the plant, and constitute a most efficient body- guard, not only driving off the leaf-eating ants, but, in Belt’s opinion, rendermg the leaves less liable to be eaten by herbivorous mammalia. Delpino mentions that on one occasion he was gathering a flower of Clero- dendrum, when he was himself suddenly attacked by a whole army of small ants. pe THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE * — cmap. INSECTIVOROUS PLANTS In the cases above mentioned the relation between flowers and insects is one of mutual advantage. But this is by no means an in- variable rule. Many insects, as we all know, live on plants, but it came upon botanists as a surprise when our countryman Ellis first dis- covered that some plants catch and devour in- sects. This he observed in a North American plant Dionza, the leaves of which are formed something like a rat-trap, with a hinge in the middle, and a formidable row of spines round the edge. On the surface are a few very sen- sitive hairs, and the moment any small insect alights on the leaf ‘and touches one of these hairs the two halves of the leaf close up quickly and catch it. The surface then throws out a glutinous secretion, by means of which the leaf sucks up the nourishment contained in the insect. Our common Sun-dews (Drosera) are also insectivorous, the prey being in their case = ON PLANT LIFE 159 captured by glutinous hairs. Again, the Blad- derwort (Utricularia), a plant with pretty yellow flowers, growing in pools and slow streams, is so called because it bears a great number of bladders or utricles, each of which is a real miniature eel-trap, having an orifice guarded by a flap opening inwards which allows small water animals to enter, but pre- vents them from coming out again. The Butterwort (Pinguicula) is another of these carnivorous plants. MOVEMENTS OF PLANTS While considering Plant life we must by no means confine our attention to the higher orders, but must remember also those lower groups which converge towards the lower forms of animals, so that in the present state of our knowledge the two cannot always be distinguished with certainty. Many of them differ indeed greatly from the ordinary con- ception of a plant. Even the comparatively highly organised Seaweeds multiply by means 160 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, of bodies called spores, which an untrained observer would certainly suppose to be animals. They are covered by vibratile hairs or “ cilia,” by means of which they swim about freely in the water, and even possess a red spot which, as being especially sensitive to light, may be regarded as an elementary eye, and with the aid of which they select some suitable spot, to which they ultimately attach themselves. It was long considered as almost a charac- teristic of plants that they possessed no power of movement. ‘This is now known to be an error. In fact, as Darwin has shown, every growing part of a plant is In continual and even constant rotation. The stems of climb- ing plants make great sweeps, and in other cases, when the motion is not so apparent, it nevertheless really exists. I have already mentioned that many plants change the posi- tion of their leaves or flowers, or, as it is called, sleep at night. The common Dandelion raises its head when the florets open, opens and shuts morn- ing and evening, then lies down again while the seeds are ripening, and raises itself a Iv ON PLANT LIFE 161 second time when they are ready to be carried _ away by the wind. Valisneria spiralis is a very interesting case. It is a native of HKuropean rivers, and the female flower has a long spiral stalk which enables it to float on the surface of the water. The male flowers have no stalks, and grow low down on the plant. They soon, however, detach themselves altogether, rise to the sur- face, and thus are enabled to fertilise the female flowers among which they float. The spiral stalk of the female flower then contracts and draws it down to the bottom of the water so that the seeds may ripen in safety. Many plants throw or bury their seeds. The sensitive plants close their leaves when touched, and the leaflets of Desmodium gyrans are continually revolving. I have already mentioned that the spores of seaweeds swim freely in the water by means of cilia. Some microscopic plants do so throughout a great part of their lives. A still lower group, the Myxomycetes, which resemble small, more or less branched, masses of jelly, and live in damp soil, among M 162 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. decaying leaves, under bark and in similar moist situations, are still more remarkably ~ animal like. They are never fixed, but in almost continual movement, due to differences of moisture, warmth, light, or chemical action. If, for instance, a moist body is brought into contact with one of their projections, or “‘pseudopods,’ the protoplasm seems to roll itself in that direction, and so the whole organism gradually changes its place. So again, while a solution of salt, carbonate of potash, or saltpetre causes them to withdraw from the danger, an infusion of sugar, or tan, produces a flow of protoplasm towards the source of nourishment. In fact,in the same way it rolls over and round its food, absorbing what is nutritious as it passes along. In cold weather they descend into the soil, and one of them (Ethalium), which lives in tan pits, descends in winter to a depth of several feet. When about to fructify it changes its habits, seeks the light instead of avoiding it, climbs upwards, and produces its fruit above ground. | Iv ON PLANT LIFE 163 IMPERFECTION OF OUR KNOWLEDGE The total number of living species of plants may be roughly estimated at 500,000, and there is not one, of which we can say that the structure, uses, and life-history are yet fully known to us. Our museums contain large numbers which botanists have not yet had ‘time to describe and name. Even in our own country not a year passes without some additional plant being discov- ered ; as regards the less known regions of the earth not half the species have yet been collected. Among the Lichens and Fungi especially many problems of their life-history, some, indeed, of especial importance to man, still await solution. Our knowledge of the fossil forms, more- over, falls far short even of that of existing species, which, on the other hand, they must have greatly exceeded in number. Every difference of form, structure, and colour has doubtless some cause and explanation, so that the field for research is really inexhaustible. YS ie ~— ia Soe |e et Ww * re f h ‘ vi : = : We ey ¥ Vn ‘ r ‘ < ‘ . : \ y ; i ’ ia < CHAPTER V WOODS AND FIELDS “By day or by night, summer or winter, beneath trees’ the heart feels nearer to that depth of life which the far sky means. The rest of spirit, found only in beauty, ideal and pure, comes there because the distance seems within touch of thought.” JEFFERIES. CHAPTER V WOODS AND FIELDS RuraAt life, says Cicero, “is not delightful by reason of cornfields only and meadows, and vineyards and groves, but also for its gardens and orchards, for the feeding of cattle, the swarms of bees, and the variety of all kinds of flowers.’ Bacon considered that a garden is “the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces are but gross handyworks, and a man shall ever see, that when ages grow to civility and elegancy men come to build stately sooner than to garden finely, as if gardening were the greater perfection.” No doubt “the pleasure which we take in a garden is one of the most innocent delights in human life.”! Elsewhere there may be scat- 1 The Spectator. 167 168 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE ‘CHAP, tered flowers, or sheets of colour due to one or two species, but in gardens one glory follows another. Here are brought together all the quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf sucked the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk rose, and the well attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears. We cannot, happily we need not try to, contrast or compare the beauty of gardens with that of woods and fields. And yet to the true lover of Nature wild flowers have a charm which no garden can equal. Cultivated plants are but a living herbarium. They surpass, no doubt, the dried specimens of a museum, but, lovely as they are, they can be no more compared with the natural vegetation of our woods and fields than the captives in the Zoological Gardens with the same wild species in their native forests and mountains. 1 Milton. v WOODS AND FIELDS 169 Often, indeed, our woods and fields rival gardens even in the richness of colour. We have all seen meadows white with Narcissus, glowing with Buttercups, Cowslips, early purple Orchis, or Cuckoo Flowers; cornfields blazing with Poppies; woods carpeted with Bluebells, Anemones, Primroses, and Forget- me-nots; commons with the yellow Lady’s Bedstraw, Harebells, and the sweet Thyme; marshy places with the yellow stars of the Bog Asphodel, the Sun-dew sparkling with diamonds, Ragged Robin, the beautifully fringed petals of the Buckbean, the lovely little Bog Pimpernel, or the feathery tufts of Cotton Grass; hedgerows with Hawthorn and Traveller’s Joy, Wild Rose and Honeysuckle, while underneath are the curious leaves and orange fruit of the Lords and Ladies, the snowy stars of the Stitchwort, Succory, Yar- row, and several kinds of Violets; while all along the banks of streams are the tall red spikes of the Loosestrife, the Hemp Agrimony, Water Groundsel, Sedges, Bulrushes, Flower- ing Rush, Sweet Flag, ete. Many other sweet names will also at once 170 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE ‘CHAP, occur to us — Snowdrops, Daffodils and Hearts- ease, Lady’s Mantles and Lady’s ‘Tresses, Kyebright, Milkwort, Foxgloves, Herb Roberts, Geraniums, and among rarer species, at least in England, Columbines and Lilies. But Nature does not provide delights for the eye only. The other senses are not for- gotten. A thousand sounds — many delight- ful in themselves, and all by association— songs of birds, hum of insects, rustle of leaves, ripple of water, seem to fill the air. Flowers again are sweet, as well as lovely. The scent of pine woods, which is said to be very healthy, is certainly delicious, and the effect of Woodland scenery is good for the mind as well as for the body. “Resting quietly under an ash tree, with the scent of flowers, and the odour of green buds and leaves, a ray of sunlight yonder lighting up the lichen and the moss on the oak trunk, a gentle air stirring in the branches above, giving glimpses of fleecy clouds sailing in the ether, there comes into the mind a feel- ing of intense joy in the simple fact of living.” * 1 Jefferies. v WOODS AND FIELDS 171 The wonderful phenomenon of phospho- rescence is not a special gift to the animal king- dom. Henry O. Forbes describes a forest in Sumatra: “The stem of every tree blinked with a pale greenish-white light which un- dulated also across the surface of the ground like moonlight coming and going behind the clouds, from a minute thread-like fungus in- visible in the day-time to the unassisted eye ; and here and there thick dumpy mushrooms displayed a sharp, clear dome of light, whose intensity never varied or changed till the break “of day ; long phosphorescent caterpillars and centipedes crawled out of every corner, leaving a trail of light behind them, while fire-flies darted about above like a lower firmament.” * - Woods and Forests were to our ancestors the special scenes of enchantment. . The great Ash tree Yggdrasil bound to- gether Heaven, Harth, and Hell. Its top reached to Heaven, its branches covered the Karth, and the roots penetrated into Hell. The three Normas or Fates sat under it, spin- ning the thread of life. 1 Forbes, A Naturalist’s Wanderings in the Eastern Archi- pelago. 172 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, Of all the gods and goddesses of classical mythology or our own folk-lore, none were more fascinating than the Nature Spirits — Klves and Fairies, Neckans and _ Kelpies, Pixies and Ouphes, Mermaids, Undines, Water Spirits, and all the Elfin world Which have their haunts in dale and piny mountain, Or forests, by slow stream or tingling brook. They come out, as we are told, especially on moonlight nights. But while evening thus clothes many a scene with poetry, forests are fairy land all day long. Almost any wood contains many and many a spot well suited for Fairy feasts; where one might most expect to find Titania, resting, as once we are told, She lay upon a bank, the favourite haunt Of the Spring wind in its first sunshine hour, For the luxuriant strawberry blossoms spread Like a snow shower then, and violets Bowed down their purple vases of perfume — About her pillow, — linked in a gay band Floated fantastic shapes ; these were her guards, Her lithe and rainbow elves. The fairies have disappeared, and, so far as v WOODS AND FIELDS 173 England is concerned, the larger forest animals have vanished almost as completely. The Elk and Bear, the Boar and Wolf have gone, the Stag has nearly disappeared, and but a scanty remnant of the original wild Cattle linger on at Chillingham. Still the woods teem with life; the Fox and Badger, Stoat and Weasel, Hare and Rabbit, and Hedgehog, : The tawny squirrel vaulting through the boughs, Hawk, buzzard, jay, the mavis and the merle,! the Owls and Nightjar, the Woodpecker, Nut- hatch, Magpie, Doves, and a hundred more. In early spring the woods are bright with the feathery catkins of the Willow, followed by the soft green of the Beech, the white or pink flowers of the Thorn, the pyramids of the ‘Horse-chestnut, festoons of the Laburnum and Acacia, and the Oak slowly wakes from its winter sleep, while the Ash leaves long linger in their black buds. Under foot is a carpet of flowers— Anem- - ones, Cowslips, Primroses, Bluebells, and 1 Tennyson. 174 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. the golden blossoms of the Broom, which, however, while Gorse and Heather continue ~ in bloom for months, “blazes for a week or two, and is then completely extinguished, like a fire that has burnt itself out.” ? In summer the tints grow darker, the birds are more numerous and full of life; the air teems with insects, with the busy murmur of bees and the idle hum of flies, while the cool of morning and evening, and the heat of the day, are all alike delicious. As the year advances and the flowers wane, we have many beautiful fruits and berries, the red hips and haws of the wild roses, scarlet holly berries, crimson yew cups, the translucent berries of the Guelder Rose, hanging coral beads of the Black Bryony, feathery festoons of the Traveller’s Joy, and others less conspicuous, but still exquisite in themselves — acorns, beech nuts, ash keys, and many more. It is really difficult to say which are most beautiful, the tender greens of spring or the rich tints of autumn, which glow so brightly in the sunshine. 1 Hamerton. var WOODS AND FIELDS 175 Tropical fruits are even more striking. No one who has seen it can ever forget a grove of orange trees in full fruit; while the more we | examine the more we find to admire; all per- fectly and exquisitely finished “usque ad ungues,” perfect inside and outside, for Nature Does in the Pomegranate close Jewels more rare than Ormus shows.! In winter the woods are comparatively bare and lifeless, even the Brambles and Woodbine, which straggle over the tangle of underwood being almost leafless. Still even then they have a beauty and interest of their own; the mossy boles of the trees; the delicate tracery of the branches which can hardly be appreciated when they are covered with leaves; and under foot the beds of fallen leaves; while the evergreens ‘seem brighter than in summer; the ruddy stems and rich green foliage of the Scotch Pines, and the dark spires of the Firs, seeming to acquire fresh beauty. 1 Marvell. 176 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, Again in winter, though no doubt the living tenants of the woods are much less numerous, many of our birds being then far away in the dense African forests, on the other hand those which remain are much more easily visible. We can follow the birds from tree to tree, and the Squirrel from bough to bough. It requires little imagination to regard trees as conscious beings, indeed it is almost an effort not to do so. “The various action of trees rooting them- selves in inhospitable rocks, stooping to look into ravines, hiding from the search of glacier winds, reaching forth to the rays of rare sun- shine, crowding down together to drink at sweetest streams, climbing hand in hand among the difficult slopes, opening in sudden - dances among the mossy knolls, gathering - Into companies at rest among the fragrant fields, ghding in grave procession over the heavenward ridges —nothing of this can be conceived among the unvexed and unvaried felicities of the lowland forest; while to all these direct sources of greater beauty are Vv WOODS AND FIELDS 177 added, first the power of redundance, the mere quantity of foliage visible in the folds and on the promontories of a single Alp being greater than that of an entire lowland landscape (unless a view from some Cathedral tower); and to this charm of redundance, that of clearer visibility — tree after tree being con- stantly shown in successive height, one behind another, instead of the mere tops and flanks of masses as in the plains; and the forms of multitudes of them continually defined against the clear sky, near and above, or against white clouds entangled among their branches, instead of being confused in dimness of distance.” * There is much that is interesting in the relations of one species to another. Many plants are parasitic upon others. The foliage of the Beech is so thick that scarcely anything will grow under it, except those spring plants, such as the Anemone and the Wood Butter- cup or Goldilocks, which flower early before the Beech is in leaf. There are other cases in which the reason 1 Ruskin. N 178 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. for the association of species is less evident. The Larch and the Arolla (Pinus Cembra) are close companions. They grow together in Siberia; they do not occur in Scandinavia or Russia, but. both reappear in certain Swiss valleys, especially in the cantons of Lucerne and Valais and the Engadine. Another very remarkable case which has recently been observed is the relation existing between some of our forest trees and certain Fungi, the species of which have not yet been clearly ascertained. The root tips of the trees are as it were enclosed in a thin sheet of closely woven mycelium. It was at first supposed that the fungus was attacking the roots of the tree, but it is now considered that the tree and the fungus mutually benefit one another. The fungus collects nutriment from the soil, which passes into the tree and up to the leaves, where it is elaborated into sap, the greater part being utilized by the tree, but a portion reabsorbed by the fungus. There is reason to think that, in some cases at any rate, the mycelium is that of the Truffle. S mM es) a ) es —