UC-NRLF

1S3 155

ftEYERY-BAYJH

£3* S«

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

PRESENTED BY

PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID

EVERYDAY OBJECTS

MURRAY AND GIBB, EDINBURGH,
PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE.

EVERYDAY OBJECTS.

(Frontispiece.)

EVERYDAY OBJECTS

OR

0f lateral ||i;8t0rg«

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.

EDITED AND ENLARGED BY

W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS,

AUTHOR OF " THE CIRCLE OF THE YEAR," " SWORD AND PEN,'
" BEFORE THE CONQUEST," ETC.

" To know

That which about us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wisdom."

MILTON.

WILLIAM P. NIMMO:

LONDON : 14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND ;
AND EDINBURGH.

1876.

PREFACE.

HE very favourable reception accorded both by
Press and Public to the " Circle of the Year,"
has induced me to prepare a second volume,
similar in design, but dealing with different branches
of the same subject. As the former was founded on
the first series of a popular French work, "Les
Saisons," by M. Hoefer, so the present has been
suggested by the second series ; but in availing myself
of it, I have omitted much, I have revised more, and
at various parts my additions have been considerable.
And here, as in my former effort, I have written from
a popular rather than a scientific point of view. It has

JVJ35Q817

viii PREFACE.

not been my object to sketch the outlines or lay down
the foundations of any science ; but to show, as best I could,
how much of wonder and beauty enters into our daily life, and
what inexhaustible sources of study lie at our very feet. It is,
perhaps, a misfortune of our common systems of education
that they too much neglect the tuition of the eye ; that the
young are not taught to mark the curious and interesting
objects which are comprehended within their daily vision;
that they know so much about ancient mythology and so little
about modern science, — so much about gods and heroes, so
little about stars and flowers.

I have called this volume " Everyday Objects," not be-
cause those which it describes may be seen every day, but
because they mostly belong to the region of the commonplace
and familiar; and I have called it "Picturesque Aspects
of Natural History," because I have endeavoured, in com-
panionship with my French collator ateur, to indicate the
poetical side of the various sciences into which I have pre-
sumed to penetrate. If it should awaken a love of nature in
any breast, or develop a spirit of inquiry, which may lead
the student further and further on the path of knowledge, the
labour bestowed upon these pages will not have been in vain.

The instinct of curiosity, — says M. Hoefer, in his preface to
the first series of " Les Saisons," — is the awakening of the
intellectual life : it commences with the lisping of the child,

PREFACE.

accompanies the adult in every phase of his existence, and, far
from becoming extinct with the last throb of the heart, revives
before the unknown shadows of the grave. What, then, is
there in the whole world of greater importance to follow and
direct than the movements and impulses of this curiosity, of
these uncertain pulsations of the soul ? In this lies the secret
of all education ; and upon education depends the future of
humanity.

Unfortunately, he continues, the methods hitherto employed
have been absolutely insufficient. And the insufficiency is
most notable as regards the imperfect and defective training
given to the instinct of curiosity. Observe the child. Of
everything which excites his attention, he never fails to ask
you the reason why. It is thus that he enters into the con-
nexion of " cause " and " effect." It is a sign. But instead
of following up this natural indication, and developing the
thought by the exercise of the reason, we proceed as if the
being under our charge were incapable of reason ; we over-
load the memory of the child with a multitude of words,
whose value he cannot understand until later in life, and
perhaps never. The true direction of the mind is to pro-
ceed from the thought to the word, and not from the word
to the thought. It is for want of having recognised and
applied this principle that our educational systems have
failed so utterly.

PREFACE.

Let us take, for example, the study of nature. No science,
assuredly, ought to prove more attractive to the mind than
natural history. Yet mark how repulsive zoology, botany,
and mineralogy are made at the very outset, by the dry-
ness of their nomenclatures and the dreariness of their
classifications. Undoubtedly, it is necessary to lay down a
course of study in the midst of the marvels which every-
where surround us; undoubtedly names are required for
the objects which attract our notice. But are not the
methods we employ directly opposed to the end we set
before ourselves?

I address myself to parents and teachers ; and I say to
them, Do you wish to inculcate a love of science, and
yet put into the hands of your children or pupils books
which differ as widely from the book of nature as human
brotherhood — (a fiction !) — differs from universal gravitation ?
Instead of familiarising us at first with the animals and
plants within our everyday reach, you collect, under the
same irrevocable iron "form," genera and species never
intended to meet in any one particular zone, and many of
which are so rare that few persons will ever be fortunate
enough to see them except in collections and engravings.
And, curious to state, the rarest species nearly always ob-
tain your preferences j judging, at least, from the minute
descriptions which you consecrate to them. Monstrous

PREFACE. xi

absurdity ! You seek at a distance that which lies close
to your hands, as if the Everyday Objects above, beneath,
and around, were unworthy of the science you profess.

But here we must pause. Upon the principles thus laid
down by M. Hoefer, have been founded the two unpretend-
ing companion volumes, of which the second is now submitted
to the lenient judgment of the public.

W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS.

CONTENTS.

BOOK I.— WINTER.

CHAP.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS : —

The Number of the Stars, .

The Great Bear and the Little Bear, . .

Orion, . . . , ,,

Diurnal Movement,

Determination of the Cardinal Points,

4
8

13
15
17

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN UPON THE EARTH : —

The Snow, . . . ...

Red Snow,

The Eternal Snow,

The Inhabitants of the Eternal Snows,

The Arvicola Leufurust

The Marmot,

The Chamois,

The Eagle and the Wren, .

The Snow Bunting,

The Red-billed Crew,

Reptiles, ....

Inferior Animals,

32
39
44
48

49
53
56
57
66
68
70

xiv CONTENTS.

WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH, continued .•—

Herbaceous Plants which best endure the Cold of Winter, . 75
The Dog Mercury, . . . , -77

The Garden Nightshade, . ... 82

The Dag's-tooth Grass, ..... 88

BOOK II.— SPRING.

CHAP.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS : —

The Earth's Figure is seen in the Sky as in a Mirror, . 102

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH :—

Causes of the Circulation of the Sap, . . .... 132

The Daisy, ....... 138

The Tulip, . ..... 152

The Heliotrope, . . . . 156

The Anemones, . . . . . .157

The Arum, ....... 161

The Ranunculacese, . . . . .165

The Wood-louse, . , , . . .169

The Dragon-flies, . ... 1 74

BOOK III.— SUMMER.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS :•—

The Adumbrated Sphere, . . . . . 191

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH : —

The Perianth, ...... 208

The Calyx, . .... 208

The Corolla, ....... 223

The Prunella, ...... 230

The Scutellaria, . .... 235

The Lilies, . ..... 241

CONTENTS. xv

WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH, continued '.- —

The Gentians, . . . . . 250

An Alpine Excursion, . . . . . 256

The Pimpernel, . .« . . . . 260

The Mole— The Staphylinus— The Mole Cricket, . . 265

The Earwig, . . ..'•,' . . .278

BOOK IV.— AUTUMN.

CHAP.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS : —

The Circle, and the uniform Movement of the Stars (accord-
ing to the Theory of the Ancients destroyed by Kepler), 289
The Solar Constitution, . , . , . . 292
Result of recent Astronomical Researches, . . . 296

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH : —

Chemical action of Light, . . . ' . .31?.

Action of Heat, .... . 313
Arable Land, . . *, . . .318

Mushrooms or Agarics, ..... 325
The Number of Vegetable Species distributed over the

whole Surface of the Globe, . . ". . . 337

The Harvest Bug, . . , *. . . 349

The Cheese Mite, . . . . . . 354

The Number of Animal Species distributed over the whole

Surface of the Globe, . . . ' . 356

What is Chlorophyll? . ... 366

Carnations and Pinks, . . . . . 371

The Eglantine and the Convolvulus, . . . 379

Metamorphosis : a Physico-philosophical Meditation, . 384

APPENDIX, ........ 405

BOOK 1.

WINTER.

. Lastly, came Winter clothed all in frieze,
Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill ;
Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze,
And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill
As from a limbeck did adown distil :
In his right hand a tipped staff he held,
With which his feeble steps he stayed still ;
For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld ;

That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to wield.

— SPENSER, The Faerie Queene, Canto vi.
(Of Mutability).

You naked trees, whose shady leaves are lost,
Wherein the birds were wont to build their bower,
And now are clothedt with moss and hoary frost,
Instead of blossoms, wherewith your buds did flower ;
I see your tears that from your boughs do rain,
Whjosc dropn in dreary icicles remain.

— SPSNSER, The Shepherd's Calendar^
Eclogue I.

CHAPTER I.

WHA T MA Y BE SEEN IN THE HE A VENS.

Skies flower'd with stars,
Violet, rose, or pearl-hued, or soft bluer
Golden, or green, the light now blended, now
Alternate.

—P. J. BAILEY, Festus.

UR observation of the celestial phenomena may
most easily be made in the winter-time. Then

the nights are long, and the vault of heaven is
crowded with stars, and, unilluminated by the moon,
exhibits all its splendours. In the other seasons of the
year, and particularly in summer, the twilight gleam
encroaches, so to speak, upon a portion of the nights,
which are otherwise so brief, and precludes our vision
from any exact estimate of the stars. Those demi-
tints, those soft subdued reflections of light, scarcely
permit the eye to distinguish even stars of the first and
second magnitude, which shine like spots of dull gold
on a background of pale silver.

NUMBER OF THE STARS.

THE NUMBER OF THE STARS.

How many are the stars ?

To such a question comes the immediate answer, They are
infinite in number.

But, after a little meditation, we begin to perceive that the
question, apparently so simple, is, in reality, one of very great
complexity. Let us endeavour to disentangle its various
threads.

We must not forget that, in every scientific analysis, it is
important we should, in the first place, separate two intimately
united elements, — the individual who observes, and the pro-
duct of the observation. The former, the " sensorial factor,"
is subject to every condition of space and time ; the second,
the " intellectual factor," tends, by its generalisations, to free
itself from those veiy conditions which are the inseparable
co-efficients of matter and movement. The individual passes ;
save from an outer standpoint, we know not whence he
comes, nor whither he goes. The product of the observation
remains; transmissible from generation to generation, it will
gradually expand and increase, if it be founded upon truth ;
but. on the contrary, its splendour will wane, and will
eventually disappear, if it be founded upon error. Eternal
is this spectacle of actors and puppets succeeding one an-
other uninterruptedly upon the same stage ! As one falls,
another steps forward into his place, and so the great army
marches forward with unbroken ranks.

He who, "in cities pent," sees the sky only through a

A WINTER LANDSCAPE. 5

garret window, or in the narrow intervals between house and
house, can form no accurate idea of the magnificence of
the firmament. The peasant, the shepherd, or the labourer,
spent with his daily work, prefers sleep to astronomical vigils ;
and even amongst those more favoured sons of fortune, who
enjoy sufficient leisure, but few are found who feel a genuine
pleasure in the study of the stars. Though they are the
poetry of heaven, their music is inaudible to the majority of
souls. We content ourselves with an occasional careless
glance at their serene loveliness, and then turn again to the
pleasures or avocations of commonplace life.

But, come ; let us arouse ourselves ! Let us quit the city
for awhile ; let us throw off all thought of its too-engrossing
pursuits ; let us find time to count the stars. Gentle readers,
I ask you to follow me.

Ah, me ! how small is the train of followers ! How great my
delusion in supposing that a complete phalanx of students of
the celestial wonders would reply to my invitation !

We have now arrived in the open country; and here, on
the summit of this gentle ascent, crowned with a clump of
leafless trees, we pause. The sky glitters with a cold, keen
light, which is reflected back by the snowy plains. While the
eye ranges delightedly over the starry vault, the ear is struck
by the distant sound of bells, which, at the midnight hour,
ring in the infant year — ring in so many hopes and expected
joys, and unexpected sorrows — ring out so many passing plea-
sures and rudely dissipated visions.

As the chime glides softly over the meadows, and along the

THE POETS SONG.

resounding vales, and through the leafless woods, repeated by
echo after echo, until its music dies away in the distance,

FIG. i.

like our recollections of the dreams of youth, we murmur
to ourselves that solemn song of the poet, which so aptly

THE CARDINAL POINTS. 7

blends the regrets of the past with the anticipations of the
future j we exclaim —

" Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light :
The year is dying in the night ;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

*' Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite ;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

" Ring out old shapes of foul disease ;
Ring out the harrowing lust of gold j
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

" Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand ;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be." *

The spectacle is majestic and impressive. Let us seek,
in the first place, to ascertain our position in reference to
the four points of the compass — the four cardinal points.
But how is this to be done ? By day it is easy enough. I
have only to turn myself towards the sun when it has reached
the highest point of its diurnal course, and there, in front of
me, lies the south, in my rear the north, the east on my left,
and on my right the west.

But is it possible to ascertain one's position during the
absence of the " orb of day ? "

* Tennyson, " In Memoriam, " cvi.

8 STUDYING THE HEAVENS.

Both possible and easy, provided the sky be clear and
cloudless.

But this condition is as necessary by day as by night.
How can we determine in which direction lies the south,
if the sun be hidden from our gaze by an uniformly opaque
atmosphere, and if objects, lit up by a diffuse light, project
no shadow at any time of the day ?

Endeavour to group together the stars which more particu-
larly strike your gaze ; and be careful, in these groupings, to
define every fantastic figure which is suggested by your
vivid imagination. Undoubtedly, our earliest ancestors, the
" world's gray forefathers," proceeded in this manner, in their
anxiety to lay hold of some definite guiding-marks in yonder
ocean of sparkling atoms. And to study a science by its
history is to follow up its successive development.

THE GREAT AND THE LITTLE BEAR.

Observe yonder very remarkable group of seven stars ; nearly
all are of the same splendour, and they are so arranged as to figure
an antique chariot, provided with a somewhat curved axle pole.

Observe it carefully. And not far from this group you will
detect another, by no means so conspicuous, but exactly resem-
bling it in form. This second chariot is turned in an inverse
direction, and the stars composing it, with three exceptions,
are much less brilliant.

Here, then, are two groups of stars, clearly distinguished
by their configuration — two constellations, for such is the
scientific name given to all the stellar groups.

THE GREAT BEAR.

it has been the fortune of the first of these two groups to
strike the eye of the most indifferent observer from the re-
motest antiquity ; and its likeness to a quadriga early procured
it the name of a car or chariot. For those Christians who
pleased themselves in studding the sky with Biblical per-
sonages, it is David's
Chariot. This species
of apotheosis was bor-
rowed from the Pa-
gans. They placed
in the skies their di-
vinities, their demi-
gods, their heroes,
and the principal facts
and stories of their
mythology. For the
Greeks and Romans

the "Chariot Of FIG. 2. -The Great Bear and Little Bear.

David " was the female of the Bear, an ursa, or
Whence came this transfiguration ? Listen to the fanciful old
myth.

Callisto was the most beautiful of the daughters of the
King Lycaon. Jupiter, who may appropriately be styled
the " Don Juan " or " Lovelace " of the heathen Olympus, fell
in love with her ; and she bore him a son, named Areas, who
gave his name to Arcadia, that land of song and fable, groves
and streams, where Lycaon exercised his sovereign sway.

i o THE " SE VEN STARS."

Juno, the queen of heaven, and wife of the so-called king of
gods and men, transported by her jealous rage, changed
Callisto into a she-bear; who, one day, would have been
unwittingly slain by Areas, if Jupiter, opportunely appearing
on the scene, had not metamorphosed the hunter into another
animal, Ursa Minor, or the Little Bear. According to this
myth, the Little Bear will be but a transformation of the
former, who was the Great Bear, or, before all and above all,
the Bear.

It is somewhat surprising, according to certain writers, that
Homer should refer to only one of these constellations : —

v x.a.i a/^a^av fff/xX^tfra xaXsovaiv.*
(The Bear, which men the Chariot also name).

But the learned commentators who have censured the poet
for making no distinction between Ursa Major and Ursa
Minor, probably never looked at the starry vault with an
attentive eye ; otherwise, like all the world, they might have
convinced themselves that the seven stars, septem triones
(whence the word " septentrion "), forming the beautiful con-
stellation, which, undoubtedly, long before Homer's time, was
known as " The Bear " or " The Celestial Chariot," were all
that could be seen. With a single exception, these stars are
of the second magnitude — that is to say, they, so far as
regards their brilliancy, rank next to the most brilliant stars
of the firmament The least conspicuous star in the group —

* Homer, " Odyssey," v. 273.

" URSA MINOR? ii

one of the third magnitude — occupies the base of the pole of
the Celestial Chariot, or of the Bear's tail ; it is the fourth
star counting from the extremity of the tail. On celestial
charts, it is particularised by the fourth letter of the Greek
alphabet, 3 (delta).

Observe, in passing, that the first of these charts, wherein
the stars of a constellation were indicated by Greek characters,
appeared in 1603, at Augsburg, under the title of "Urano-
metria." Its author, Jean Bayer, an amateur astronomer,
who died in 1660, conceived the idea of designating by the
first letters of the Greek alphabet — a, /3, y, 3, and so on — the
most noticeable stars. The animals bearing the names of the
constellations are drawn in this map with very considerable
care ; but it requires, let us hasten to add, much imagination
and good-will to recognise, in the form of a stellar group, the
animal shown in the drawing.

Thus far Ursa Major. The four stars of the quadriga, or
chariot, have been employed to form the dorso-lumbar region
of the animal ; the three others define its tail ; and, finally,
twenty-four little stars, some of which are hardly visible to the
naked eye, compose the head and paws of the celestial " plan-
tigrade."

As for Ursa Minor, it is impossible to distinguish it imme-
diately when you are unaccustomed to surveying or examining
the celestial vault. To detect its position, you require to be
forewarned of it ; to know, in the first place, that there exists
in the vicinity of the Bear an exactly similar stellar group.
The point of the tail — a in Ursa Minor — alone possesses a

12 SEEING AND NOT SEEING.

splendour comparable to that of the principal stars in Ursa
Major. But how construct a figure with one star? The four
other stars, two of which mark the anterior part of the animal's
body, and two others the tail, properly so called, are only of
the third magnitude : they are marked /3, 7, 5, g. Finally, the
stars which define the posterior portion, marked £ and q on
Bayer's chart, are only of the fourth magnitude — in other
words, are scarcely visible. The eye, to detect them, must be
wholly free from any gleam of light.

Many generations passed before they succeeded in discover-
ing what a single individual solved during his brief career.
All Homer's contemporaries, and, prior to these, tens of
millions of mortals, had contemplated the sky, and yet none
of them had detected the difference between Ursa Major
and Ursa Minor. The distinction, therefore, is of a com-
paratively recent date; probably does not date back earlier
than the sixth century before the Christian era,

Let us recall ourselves, now, to the question propounded.
The first impression produced by the aspect of the sky during
a beautiful winter night is, we repeat, that the number of the
stars is infinite. This wholly spontaneous thought, which, to
some extent, imposes itself on the mind long before the reason
attempts any calculation, is, strange to say, both false and true.

But how can a thought be both false and true ? Nothing is
easier than to explain the seeming contradiction. We shall
return to it hereafter, after we have indulged in some indis-
pensable digressions.

ORION THE HUNTER. 13

ORION.

One of the finest and loftiest flights of Longfellow's imagina-
tion is to be found in his poem on the occupation of Orion.
He has seldom, if ever, sounded a more vigorous strain.
After alluding to that music of the spheres which Pythagoras
dreamed of, and which Shakespeare has described in a passage
of great beauty, he continues : —

" Beneath the sky's triumphal arch
This music sounded like a march,
And with its chorus seemed to be
Preluding some great tragedy.
Sirius was rising in the east ;
And, slow ascending one by one,
The kindling constellations shone.
Begirt with many a blazing star,
Stood the great giant Algebar,
Orion, hunter of the beast !
His sword hung gleaming by his side ;
And, on his arm, the lion's hide
Scattered across the midnight air
The golden radiance of its hair."

The most ancient observer who wished, with his own eyes,
to assure himself whether the number of the stars was infinite,
must have quickly perceived that, in spite of an apparent
impossibility, it is no difficult task to complete their enumera-
tion. To execute this operation conveniently, however, we
must invent a process ; and of all processes, the simplest, and
that which first occurs to the mind, is to group the stars by
configurations which, to a certain degree, are mnemo-technical.

i4 A BEAUTIFUL CONSTELLATION.

Such, in our belief, is the true origin— a point so often and
laboriously discussed — of the asterisms or constellations. Their
fanciful, mythological, or poetical embellishments, are of later
date.

The census or enumeration of the stars, which we suppose
to have commenced during our winter nights, must at first
have been limited to the most characteristic groups, composed
of the most brilliant points. In this scientific labour the first
rank would necessarily be occupied by Arctos (or Ursa

Major) and Orion. Why?
Because these two constella-
tions attract and rivet every-
body's gaze.

Orion is situated on the side
opposite to the Great Bear.
It is the most beautiful con-
stellation in our western sky.
You may easily recognise it
by three stars, very close to-
gether, which are inscribed, as
it were, in the centre of a

FIG. 3. -Orion. great trapezium of four stars,

two of which are of the first magnitude. Beneath the three
first stars, called the Three Kings, or Orion's Belt, is visible a
small stellar group of the fourth and fifth magnitude, near
which, with a good average glass, may be distinguished the
largest and most remarkable of the nebulae.

AN ANCIENT MYTH. 15

Here we find the mythologists — those theologians of the
Greco-Roman polytheism — at disagreement. According to an
ancient legend, immortalised by Homer —

" Aurora sought Orion's love, . . .
Till, in Ortygia, Dian's winged dart
Had pierced the hapless hunter to the heart."*

The giant, in the lower world, is still animated by a burn-
ing passion for the chase —

"There huge Orion, of portentous size,
Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies ;
A ponderous mace of brass, with direful sway,
Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey ;
Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,
Now, grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell." f

According to later traditions, the giant Orion, son of Tura
and Neptune, was endowed by his father with the faculty
of walking upon the sea as well as upon earth, He aban-
doned himself to the fierce joys of the chase in the wooded
isle of Crete, to whose shades he had accompanied Diana
and Latona. Swollen with pride, he defied to combat all
the monsters of the universe, and was slain by a scorpion
which the earth had engendered under his feet. But, through
the intercession of Diana, a place was given to him in the
firmament opposite Scorpio.

DIURNAL MOVEMENT.

Let us put aside these dreams of the world's youth, and
return to the reality.

* Homer, "Odyssey," Book v., 121-124.
t Ibid., Book xi., 571-574.

j 6 DIURNAL MOVEMENT.

Nature, transformed by the ancients into a multiple divinity,
never fails to overwhelm with surprise the observer who in-
terrogates her with simplicity and without any preconcerted
system. And it was thus that he who first undertook to
enumerate the stars, by the help of the constellations, made
at once the greatest and most unexpected discovery. What,
in fact, was not his astonishment on seeing the gradual dis-
placement of objects which, at the first glance, appeared
immovable !

To this very natural astonishment soon succeeded, we doubt
not, a desire to analyse the phenomenon. The most beautiful
constellations of the firmament, Ursa and Orion, will have
their points of repery on the star-gemmed sphere. An atten-
tive study, eagerly pursued through a certain lapse of time,
would teach him that Orion rises and sets like the sun and
the moon, while the Bear, remaining perpetually above the
horizon, neither rises nor sets. Stimulated by curiosity, the
observer would afterwards assure himself that the whole of
the celestial vault revolved upon an axis, while the stars
divided into groups; remain fixed, fixed in this sense, that
they constantly maintain among themselves the same relations
of distance. The idea of a solid sphere, to which the stars
were attached like golden nails, then came quite naturally
to the human mind. Such, undoubtedly, was the origin of
the. discovery of diurnal movement; of that general movement
which carries all the stars from west to east, to bring them
back to the same points in the course of one complete day.

To hear our professors of astronomy invariably repeating,

LARGE AND SMALL DEDUCTIONS. 17

that " the spectator of the starry vault may see, every moment,
new stars rising above the horizon, — may see them mount
the sky, — halt in their upward march when they have attained
a certain elevation, — afterwards re-descend, and pass below the
horizon;" — to hear, we say, these words incessantly reproduced,
one would think that a cursory glance at the sky would suffice
to reveal the general movement, and that what is within the
ken of the first comer, should not be called a discovery.

But we see in this another of those illusions which blind
contemporaries as to the time-long efforts of their predecessors
to discover the very results which long ago became our com-
mon patrimony. Unquestionably, if you have eyes, you can-
not fail to see the apparent movement of the earth and moon ;
but from thence to the relation of the whole celestial sphere
is a wide interval. How many men are there who possess, on
the one hand, sufficient patience to fix their gaze only for a
couple of hours on the same point of the starry firmament ;
and, on the other, sufficient intelligence to estimate the
relation of this point to a fixed point of the horizon, and to
measure, by the thought, the interval separating these two
points ? Let each one ask himself.

DETERMINATION OF THE CARDINAL POINTS.
However it may be, the discovery of the rotation of the
celestial system must have been rapidly brought to perfection
as it was transmitted from one generation to another. It must
soon have been recognised that this sphere is inclined in such
a manner that one of its poles — the poles of the world, which, in

1 8 DETERMINING ONE'S POSITION.

reality, are simply the prolonged extremities of the axis of
terrestrial rotation— is always above the horizon, while the
other remains below. And this phenomenon would lead to
the geometrical conception of an axis of rotation of the celes-
tial sphere. Thus we may explain, with perfect ease, why the
Bear and the neighbouring constellations should describe
perfect circles, and the other and more distant constellations
only arcs of circles, of a greater or lesser diameter; finally,
without even looking at the sky, we can understand that some
stars there are which show themselves on the horizon, only to
disappear immediately, and others which remain completely
invisible to the inhabitants of our climates. By a singularly
fortunate coincidence, the pole, that geometrical point around
which revolve those circumpolar constellations that are con-
tinually above our horizon, is occupied by a star " well known
to fame," and hence, on the faith of its renown, supposed by
many people to be a star of peculiar brilliancy.* It is named
the Polar Star (a in Ursa Minor), and is between the second
and third magnitude.

Now if, with arms extended, we so place ourselves that our
back shall be turned to Polaris, we shall have opposite to us
the point of the arc occupied by the sun at noon; on our left
the east, and on our right the west. It is thus we may easily
learn our position in the absence of the orb of day.

The discovery of this simple mode of guidance was, never-
theless, an epoch in history. From thence the mariner grew

* The pole-star, however, is not the true polar point, but distant from
it about i° 32', which, in A.D. 2100, will be decreased to 26' 30".

THE HOMERIC COSMOGONY. 19

bold enough to quit the coast, which he had hitherto hugged
with timorous prudence, and venture out into the open sea.
Thenceforth, the darkness disappeared ; new countries were
revealed to one another, and nations, which from time imme-
morial had remained apart, were brought into frequent com-
munication.

It was with eyes fixed upon the Bear, which alone does not
bathe itself in the waters of Ocean, that Ulysses set out from
Calypso's enchanted island.

According to Homer, who reflects in his immortal work the
condition of scientific knowledge among his contemporaries,
the ocean was a great broad river, surrounding the earth with
circumfluent volume, and in its waves the stars were bathed
or extinguished in the evening, to be rekindled in the morning
on the opposite side.

By saying that the Bear alone does not bathe in the waters
of Ocean * —

Ouj 5' &/j,fji.op6s ten \oerpuv 'fl/cecwoto —

the poet plainly shows that Ursa Minor, and the other circum-
polar constellations, were unknown in his time.

If the knowledge of these constellations was from the
beginning so useful and so necessary to navigation, the con-
stellation nearest to the pole could not, at first, have served
as a guide to any but a people essentially maritime. And here
we find the Phoenicians, or Tyrians, in the foremost rank.

After reminding us that Ursa Major was also called Helice,

* Homer, "Odyssey," Book v.; 275.

20 PHCENIC1AN DISCO VERIES.

or " the spiral," as in the famous passage in the " Argonauta/'
of Apollonius Rhodius, —

" Night in the east poured darkness ; on the sea
The wakeful sailor to Orion's star
And Helice turned heedful," -

and Ursa Minor, Cynosura,— that is, the dog's tail, — Manilius,*
a Latin poet, who wrote at the beginning of the Christian era,
goes on to say : —

"At one of the extremities of the world's axis are two
constellations, well known to the hapless mariner: they are
his guides when the bait of gain impels him across the
ocean. Helice is the larger, and describes the larger circle :
it is recognised by its seven stars, which rival one another in
splendour; and by this it is that the Greeks steer their barks.
The smaller, Cynosura, describes a lesser circle : it is inferior
both in size and lustre ; but, according to the witness of the
Tyrians, is of greater importance. For the Phoenicians no
safer guide exists when they seek to approach a coast invisible
from the high seas."

The testimony of Manilius is confirmed by that of Aratus
and Strabo. The pseudo-Eratosthenes, in his book on the
constellations, refers to Ursa Minor under the name of 3>o/v/x»j,
the "Phoenician." It appears, then, to be established that
the Phoenicians were the first to group a constellation of the
same general outline as Helice, the Little Bear, or Ursa Minor.
But that, as we have already explained, the two constellations
do not lie in the same direction, every one may see :
* Manilius, " Astronomicon," Book i., 291 -300.

DOES THE POLE-STAR CHANGE* 21

" Nee paribus positse sunt frontibus ; utraque caudain
Vergit in alterius rostrum, sequiturque sequentem." *

Not in the same direction do they face :
The one its tail towards the other's snout
Turns, and they thus, pursuing, each pursue.

Certain it is that the Phoenicians, as experienced seamen,
would guide their course by the constellation lying nearest
to the pole. But was this constellation the same which we
now-a-days call Ursa Minor ? It is quite allowable for us to
put such a question, because everybody knows that, owing to
the movement of the terrestrial axis around the poles of the
ecliptic, the axis of the world (the terrestrial axis prolonged)
is displaced to an extent which becomes perfectly appreciable
at the end of a certain time.f We may calculate, therefore,
that the pole, now situated, as we have already said, near the
star Polaris (a in Ursa Minor), was formerly at some distance
from it. So, at the epoch of the greatest prosperity of the
Phoenician people, or about three thousand years ago, the
north pole would nearly correspond with a star in Draco,
now 24° 52' distant.

[This constellation is shown in fig. T, between Ursa Major
and Ursa Minor ; the « in Draco is a star surrounded by a
circle, like the Polar Star, a in Ursa Minor.]

That the constellation of Draco was well known to the

* Manilius, " Astronomicon," i. 308, 309.

*f* This displacement amounts to about fifty seconds annually, or, more
accurately, to 5o".3. It is easy, therefore, to calculate that the complete
rotation of the terrestrial axis around the poles of the ecliptic will occupy
25,765 years.

22 ARABIC NAMES FOR THE STARS.

ancients, we may gather from a passage in the " Phenomena "
of Aratus, a work partly translated by Cicero : —

" The Dragon, like the sinuous course of a river, uncoils his
long scaly body, and surrounds with undulating folds the two
constellations ofxUrsa Major and Ursa Minor. "

Bringing together these different facts for the sake of com-
parison, we arrive at the conclusion that the Polar Star, by
whose scintillating light the early mariners steered their tiny
keels, was not the Polaris of to-day — a in Ursa Minor — but
a in the constellation of the Dragon.

The Arabs, those navigators of the Waterless Sea (as they
poetically designate the desert of Sahara), have bestowed par-
ticular appellations on several stars ; but they guide themselves
rather by their radiance than by their position. Thus, such
stars as a Draco, a Cepheus, a Cygnus, which have occupied,
and, in the course of centuries, will again occupy the place of
Polaris, have received no special denomination ; while the stars
of Ursa Major, a and (B (occupying the posterior angles of the
chariot), are called Dubke and Merak ; * 7, d, s, £, ??, which
follow in due succession — Phegaea, or Phad, Megrez, Alioth,
Mizar, and Ackai'r, or Benetnasch. Certain stars in the same
constellation, which are barely visible, have also received dis-
tinctive names : such is Alcor, a star between the fifth and
sixth magnitude, in the tail of Ursa Major, between Mizar

* These are also called the Pointers, because an imaginary line from the
lower to the upper, prolonged in the same direction, passes nearly over the
Polar Star.

COLOUR OF THE STARS. 23

and Benetnasch. This star, it is true, had a special use : it
served the Arabs as the test of a good eyesight.

A further proof that the Arabs founded their stellar nomen-
clature almost exclusively upon the lustre and colour of the
stars, is obvious in the names which they gave to the stars
forming the constellation of Orion. (See Fig. 2.) Thus, a
and $, two stars of the first magnitude, occupying the right or
eastern shoulder, and the left or western foot of the giant-
hunter, are called respectively, Betelguese and Rigel ; the
star 7, named Bellatrix, in the left shoulder, is of the second
magnitude, like the stars 5, g, <£, which represent Orion's Belt,
and bear the names of " the Three Kings " and " St James's
Staff." Now the star TJ, marking the right knee or inferior
eastern angle of the brilliant trapezium, is only of the third
magnitude ; therefore, it has received no special designation.

The colour by which some stars are distinguished could not
have failed to be remarked by those observers who first began
to enumerate, or take census of, the celestial bodies. Thus
Sirius, the most refulgent of the stars of heaven, situated in
Canis Major, is of a bluish-white, like Rigel ; and Arcturus,
situated on the prolongation of the tail of Ursa Major, is
reddish-yellow, like Betelguese.

Sirius, or the Dog-star, rose heliacally at the hottest time of
the year, and hence the Greeks were accustomed to ascribe
all the diseases of the season to its influence. It was —

" The star

Autumnal ; of all stars, in dead of night,
Conspicuous most, and named Orion's dog :

24 UNSEEN STARS.

Brightest it shines, but ominous, and dire
Disease portends to miserable man." . .

To sum up : the figurative grouping of the stars, the variety
of their luminous magnificence, their position towards Polaris,
the determination of that position by the longitudinal circles
passing through the axis of the world, and twisted perpendi-
cularly to this axis by the circles parallel to the Equator,
— such is the aggregate of the elements which must, at
a very early period, have presided over the enumeration
of those sparkling points, each of which is the centre of a
system.

Finally, are there any stars which the eye cannot perceive ?
Such a question would never have been propounded to the
ancients. And why? Because no reasoning would have
drawn from them an admission that it was possible by artificial
means to enlarge the range of our eyesight. They would have
deemed it madness to pretend to improve and develope what
is not of human creation ; the visual apparatus, as it is be-
stowed on us by nature, they supposed to be the most perfect
instrument which man could imagine. And, in truth, nothing
could fairly be objected to this way of looking at things.

The 48 constellations (21 northern, 12 zodiacal, and 15
austral) indicated by Ptolemceus, contain a total of 1026 stars,
whose relative positions had been determined by Hipparchus.
To undertake an enumeration of the stars, and to transmit the
result to posterity, appeared to Pliny an audacity before which

THE QUESTION ENLARGED. 25

even a god would have recoiled (Hipparchus — ausus, rem etiam
Deo improbam, annumerare posteris Stellas)*

Yet numerous doubts had already risen in the mind of
Hipparchus as to the accuracy of the number recognised. In
the first place, the ancients undoubtedly knew, as we do, that
the visual faculty is not the same in all individuals j that there
are some who, in the same celestial space, see more stars than
others. Many persons can discern up to stars of the seventh
magnitude, while with others the sight fails far within that
limit. The ancients must also have known, as we do, that,
for the enumeration to be complete, the sky must be observed
from all the points of the terrestrial surface on which man is
planted. Even in our own days the catalogues of the southern
heavens are far from being perfect. Finally, more than two
thousand years before the time of Galileo, Democritus had
already enunciated the opinion that the Milky Way was a mass
of innumerable stars. All these signs should have been
accepted as warnings against premature affirmations.

The invention of telescopes suddenly enlarged the question,
and it became necessary to establish a line of demarcation
between the number of stars visible to the naked eye and the
number visible through the agency of the telescope. Arge-
lander, the author of the " Uranometria," has found that the
stars visible to the naked eye, over the entire surface of the
heavens, range from 5000 to 5800. Otto Struve, employing
Herschel's method of computation, has estimated at upwards
* Pliny, "Historia Naturalis," Book ii., 24.

26

CAN WE COUNT THE STARS?

of twenty millions (20,374,034) the number of stars visible
with the Herschel 2o-feet telescope.

But, in presence of all the nebulae resolvable into stellar
masses, and before the development of the artificial range of
our sight, — in presence, finally, of that hopeless perspective
which the more we discover the more we perceive how

FIG. 4.

much there remains to discover, — are we not forcibly carried
back to our point of departure ?

Ought not the imagination which, at the first glance, led us
to believe the number of stars to be infinite, — ought it not to
draw us nearer to the truth ?

How should the imagination reveal to us, without difficulty,

THE NORTHERN CONSTELLATIONS. 27

what the intellect, assisted by the senses, can only discover
after ages of assiduous exertion ?

These questions, it seems to us, are worthy of our studious
consideration.

We subjoin a table of the constellations in both hemispheres,
with the number of stars in each, for the convenience of our

younger readers.

NORTHERN CONSTELLATIONS.
Ursa Minor, the Lesser Bear, . 24
Ursa Major, the Great Bear, . 87
Perseus, and Head of Medusa, 59
Auriga, the Charioteer, . . 66
Bootes, the Herdsman, . . 54
Draco, the Dragon, . " . 80
Cepheus, . . . -35
Canes Venatici,the Greyhounds

Asteria and Chara, . . 28
Cor Caroli(Heart of Charles II.), 3
Triangulum, the Triangle, . 16
Triangulum Minus, the Lesser

Triangle, . . . .10
Musca, the Fly, ... 6

Lynx, 44

Leo Minor, the Lesser Lion, . 53
Coma Berenicis, Hair of Queen

Berenice, . . . .43
Cameleopardalis, the Giraffe, . 58
Mons Menelaus, Mt. Menelaus, 4
Corona Borealis, the Northern

Crown, . . . .21
Serpens, the Serpent, . . 64
Scutum Sobieski, Sobieski's

Shield, .... 8
Hercules, with the Dog Cer-
berus, . . . .113
Serpentarius, or Ophiuchus, the

Serpent-Bearer, . . • 74

Taurus Poniatowski, Ponia-

towski's Bull, . . .7
Lyra, the Harp, . . .22
Vulpeculus et Anser, the Fox

and Goose, . . -37
Sagitta, the Arrow, . .18
Aquila, the Eagle, with Anti-
nous, 71

Delphinus, the Dolphin, . 18

Cygnus, the Swan, . .81

Cassiopeia, the Lady in her

Chair, .... 55

Equulus, the Horse's Head, . 10
Lacerta, the Lizard, . .16
Pegasus, the Flying Horse, . 89,
Andromeda, . . . . II
Tarandus, the Rein-deer, . 12

SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS.

Phoenix, . . . .13
Apparatus Sculptoris,the Sculp-
tor's Tools, . . .12
Eridanus Fluvius, the River Po, 84
Hydrus, the Water-Snake, . 10
Cetus, the Whale, . .97

Fornax Chemica, the Chemical

Furnace, . . . .19
Horologium, the Clock, . 12

Rheticulus Rhomboidialus, . 10

28 THE SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS.

Xiphias Dorado, the Sword- |

Fish, 7

Celapraxitellis, the Engraver's

Tools, . 16
Lepus, the Hare, . . .19

Columba Noachi, Noah's Dove, i o

Orion, 78

Argo Navis, the Ship Argo, . 64

Canis Major, the Great Dog, . 31

Equulus Pictoris, 8

Monoceros, the Unicorn, . 31

Canis Minor, the Lesser Dog, 14
Chameleon, . . . .10
Pyxis Nautica, the Mariner's

Compass, .... 4
Piscis Volans, the Flying-
Fish, 8

Hydra, the Serpent, . . 60

Sextans, the Sextant, . . 41
Robur Carolinum (Charles II.'s

Oak), 12

Antlia Pneumatica, the Air-
Pump, .... 3
Crater, the Cup, . . .31
Corvus, the Crow, ... 9
Crux, the Cross, ... 6
Apis Musca, the Bee or Fly, . 4
Avis Indica, the Bird of Para-
dise, II

Circinus, the Mariner's Com-

pass, 4

Centaurus, the Centaur, . . 35

Lupus, the Wolf, . . 24

12

Norma, or Euclid's Square,
Triangulum Australe,the South-
ern Triangle, ... 5
Ara, the Altar, ... 9
Telescopium, the Telescope, . 9
Corona Australis, the Southern

Crown, . . . .12
Pavo, the Peacock, . .14

Indus, the Indian, .
Microscopium, the Microscope,
Octans Hadliensis, Hadley's
Octant, ....
Grus, the Crane, . . " .
Toucan, the American Goose,
Piscis Australis, the Southern

Fish, ....
Mons Mensa, the Table Moun-
tain, 30

24

ZODIACAL CONSTELLATIONS.

Aries, the Ram, . . .66

Taurus, the Bull, . . . 141

Gemini, the Twins, . . '85

Cancer, the Crab, . . .83

Leo, the Lion, . . . 95

Virgo, the Virgin, . . .no

Libra, the Balance, . .51

Scorpio, the Scorpion, . . 44

Sagittarius, the Archer, . . 69

Capricornus, the Goat, . • 51

Aquarius, the Water-Bearer, . 108

Pisces, the Fishes, . . .113

CHAPTER II.
WHAT MA Y BE SEEN UPON THE EARTH.

Ah, bitter chill it was I
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ;
The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold.

— KEATS.

HE winter of 1867-68 will count among, the
severest recorded in meteorological annals.

As early as the winter solstice the cold began
to make itself felt. In a few days the centigrade ther-
mometer sank to 1 2° below zero, through the influence
of a very keen north-east wind. At Paris, where, on an
average, the winter temperature is two degrees higher
than in the surrounding country, the Seine was com-
pletely frozen for upwards of a fortnight. To meet
with a similar phenomenon we must go back as far as
1788. In January 1830, when, on the i7th, the tem-
perature sank down to 17°. 3, the Seine was also frozen,
but the ice speedily melted. The extreme cold of

30 THE LUNAR INFLUENCE

1788 coincides, like that of 1830, with the appearance of two
comets. In bringing together these and other similar facts,
some writers are induced to believe themselves authorised in
establishing theories which attribute a certain frigorific influ-
ence to the comets. But no such coincidence existed in the
winter of 1867-68, nor in any other years signalised by the
occurrence of excessive frost.

What are we to think of the supposed influence of the moon
upon the weather ?

This question, so constantly revived, is here not out of
place. The exceptionally prolonged cold, during which the
thermometer remained for three weeks below zero, the baro-
meter oscillating between 76° and 76°.5, commenced on the 22d
of December, three days before the new moon ; now, it is on
Christmas-day, at 48 min. past n p.m., that the moon is found
in conjunction, — that is to say, has become completely invisible
to us by passing between the earth and the sun. And the
thaw, which terminated this period of frost, commenced on
the 1 2th of the following January, just three days after the full
moon ; the exact moment of its opposition, when the moon
reflected upon us the whole hemisphere of its borrowed lustre,
took place on the 9th, at 2 min. past 1 1 in the evening. It is
then in the neighbourhood of the syzygies (conjunction and
opposition) of the moon that we must place the commence-
ment and termination of the cold period to which we have
been alluding.

We should not have thought of recalling these coincidences,

ON THE WEATHER CONSIDERED. 31

if it had not occurred to us that some meteorologists, in ac-
cordance with the popular belief, have attributed to the
syzygies a marked influence on the changes of the weather.
Toaldo has deduced from half-a-century's observations, taken
at Padua, this general fact, that the maximum of influence
manifests itself at the syzygies, and somewhat more at the new
than at the full moon ; that the minimum coincides with the first
and second quarter; that the action of the perigee (minima
distance of the moon from the earth) is equal to that of the
full moon ; and that the action of the apogee (maxima dis-
tance of the moon from the earth) is double that of the
quarters. Observe that the Italian meteorologist extended
this influence to three days before and three days after a
phase, for the moon's passage through the syzygies ; while
he restricted it to a day before and a day after, for the quad-
ratures.

The work which Toaldo did for the climate of Padua,
Pilgram had already executed for that of Vienna. But the
result at which he arrived, after five-and-twenty years of obser-
vation (from 1763 to 1788), was the contrary to that of Toaldo:
namely, that the new moon is the least active of all the phases
in reference to changes of weather. What, then, are we to con-
clude ? That the problem is one of extreme difficulty, and that
there are probably several elements necessary to its solution,
which at present escape us. Then, too, we ought to have a clear
understanding of what is meant by " changes of weather ;" we
must eliminate all vagueness from the word, and not allow it
to be governed by any preconceived theory.

3 2 SOMETHING ABOUT SNO W.

THE SNOW.

Thick clouds ascend, in whose capacious womb
A vapoury deluge lies, to snow congealed.
Heavy they roll their fleecy world along,
And the sky saddens with the gathered storm.
Through the hushed air the whitening shower descends ;
At first thin wavering ; till at last the flakes
Fall broad, and wide, and fast, dimming the day
With a continual flow.

— THOMSON, The Seasons.

The earth is covered with snow ; it is enveloped, as the
poets say, in a shroud of white. But this phrase, poetical
as it may appear, is, in reality, inadmissible. A shroud is
used to wrap round a dead body, a corpse, whose elements,
since they are no longer maintained united by the undefin-
able principle of life, go to form other compounds, — more
permanent and lasting, — which will mingle with the earth, the
water, and the air. But the earth which the snow covers pre-
serves, on the contrary, the germ of life in the seeds and roots
of plants; it rests itself, only for the purpose of communicating,
at the return of spring, a new impulse to the sap, whose cir-
culation sleeps during winter.

The moment is propitious for studying the snow: come,
then, let us examine it.

And, first, what is snow ? Put a little into the hollow of
your hand, and see what transpires.

It melts, and leaves nothing but water as a residuum.

Snow, then, is frozen water, — water which existed in the
atmosphere in the state of vapour, and which, to speak

COMPONENT PARTS OF SNOW.

33

the language of physicists, has passed from the gaseous
state into the liquid, and thence into the solid. If you
doubt its identity with water, let a chemist analyse a por-
tion of it for you : he will tell you that it is composed,
like distilled water, of hydrogen and oxygen, in the pro-

:™l

FIG. 5. — A Snowy Landscape.

portion of two parts of the former to one part of the latter.
The reader will, of course, understand that we abstract all
foreign substances which may accidentally have got mixed
up with it.

It was once a wide-spread opinion that snow is favour-

c

34 SNO W CR YSTALS.

able to vegetation, on account of the salts which it con-
tains. Analysis, however, gave a negative result ; it
demonstrated the absence of these salts. Recourse was
then had to another hypothesis : it was supposed that the
air contained in snow is richer in oxygen than the free air,
and that to the action of this gas must be attributed its
fertilising property. Another error! The truth really is,
that snow maintains the soil which it covers at a perceptibly
constant temperature, and that, when thawing, it mellows
it by its aqueous infiltrations; so that if, before a fall of
snow, the earth has experienced the action of a strong frost
capable of killing injurious insects, all the chances will be
in favour of a fertile year.

Snow forms crystals. To observe them clearly, you must
examine the snow which falls in very cold and dry weather.
It then appears to be a dust composed of little thin plates.
Look at the small flake which has fallen on your coat-
sleeve ; it is isolated ; hasten to examine it before it melts,
or before other flakes become amalgamated with it. What a
graceful star ! (Fig. 6, a). It is formed of six regular rays.
There are others which have only three, four, or five rays.
But on inspecting these more closely, you see that many
of these rays are broken or abortive, and that, when finally
analysed, each star possesses the same number of rays.

Why are there continually six rays ? Why are there never
more nor fewer than this number? One might suspect in
nature a peculiar affection for the number six: as, for

THEIR HEXAGONAL FORM. 35

example, in the cells of the bees and the wasps, which form
a regular hexagon (Fig. 6, b). Why, in the infinity of
polygons, has the instinct of these insects only chosen one
hexagon? What is the reason for this preference ?

Fig. 6.

If you interrogate geometry, it will reply to you that, of all
the polygons inscribed in a circle (Fig. 6, c\ there is but one
whose sides are equal to the radius of that circle j and this
polygon is exactly that of the bee and wasp's cell. Here,
then, is a very singular coincidence. If you afterwards
examine very minutely the work of the bee, you will find in
each cell of the honeycomb a pyramidal base, composed of
three equal rhombs, whose angles solve a grand geometrical
problem, that of giving the maximum of space with the
minimum of matter. The papier-mache' combs of the wasp
are formed of a single row of cells, each of which has a nearly
level bottom. This is all that is required ; for these cells
are destined, not for the reception of honey, but only of the
larvae, the offspring of their architects.

Do not think that you have but to pick up a thumbful of
snow to procure your crystals ! These change their form very
quickly, and it is almost impossible to detect it in snow which

36 WONDERS ON A PANE OF GLASS.

has remained for any length of time upon the ground. The
great flakes which fall in relatively mild weather, when the
temperature borders upon freezing-point, are often nothing
better than masses of small amorphous atoms of ice ; to get
at the crystals, you must remove the kind of icy varnish which
encases them.

For the accurate observation of the crystallisation of water
which precipitates itself in the air, we have at our disposal a
means as simple as convenient — a pane of glass. All we have
to do is to arrange everything in such a manner that the con-
gelation shall be both slow and certain; on this condition
alone can we obtain well-defined crystals. A cold room is
best adapted for this kind of experimentation ; and thus you
will frequently see deposited upon the window-glass, in an
uninhabited chamber, some exceedingly graceful designs, as
follow.

These are as-
teriae, — arbor-
escent, and leaf-
like crystals, —
imitating the
beautiful foli-
age of ferns and
Fig 7 mosses. The

severer the cold, the more regular, be it understood, is the
formation of these crystals.

Owing to its dazzling whiteness, snow is a great reflector of

UTILITY OF SNO W. 3 7

light, and singularly illuminates the darkness of the winter
nights. The long dreary nights of the polar world are lit up
by the glories of the magnetic auroras, joined to the radiancy of
the snow. This induces us to repeat a question which we have
often addressed to ourselves, namely, — under what aspect
must the very varied changes which the solar light experiences
on the surface of our planet be presented to the inhabitants
of Mars and Venus? A more attentive observation of the
ashen-gray light of the moon, which appears to be principally
produced by the reflection of the more or less luminous face
of the earth, may perhaps one day provide us with an answer
to our question.

Before quitting this subject, let us remember that both snow
and frost are of great utility to the husbandman. The latter,
by expanding the humidity with which the hard clods are
penetrated, crumbles them into powder, and renders stiff land
porous, friable, and mellow. It also clears the soil from the
plague of insect life, which, if it increased without so powerful
a check, would probably prove a terrible injury to the crops.
Moreover, it so hardens in winter the moist soft ground as to
permit of the necessary field operations being carried on.
Snow, as Dr Child remarks,* is even more useful. It covers
up the tender plants with a thick mantle, which defends them
against the attacks of excessive cold. " God giveth snow like
wool," and for somewhat the same purposes as wool. The
mantle which so closely wraps about the gaunt limbs of the
winter-stricken earth neither allows the internal heat to escape
* Chaplin Child, "Beredici," p. 171.

38 HUTS OF SNOW.

nor the external cold to enter in. It has been found that the
inner surface of the snow seldom falls much below 32° F.,
although the temperature of the external air may be many
degrees under the freezing-point; and it is known that this
amount of cold can be endured by the crops without injury,
so long as their covering protects them from the raking in-
fluence of the wind. In climates where the winter's cold
is longer and more intense than in England, the protective
influence of snow is much more plainly shown. Where it
lies long and deep, it opens out routes that were impracticable
in summer on account of their ruggedness, and prepares a
smooth path for the sledge, or for the " lumberer," over which
the largest trunks of the forest may be carried with ease to the
river or canal.

In the polar regions (we quote from Dr Child) snow
supplies the ever-ready material out of which the Esqui-
maux construct their houses, and hardy explorers extem-
porise the huts in which they find shelter when absent
from their ships on distant expeditions. Nor are the ships
themselves considered "snug winter quarters" until their
sides have been banked up in walls of snow, and the roof
raised over the deck has been thickly covered with it.
Snow huts are warmer than might have been expected. If
built upon ice over the sea, their temperature is sensibly
influenced by the heat of the unfrozen water below, which
is said seldom to fall much under 40° F. in any part of
the ocean. Even where the external temperature has sunk
to 20° or 30° below zero, sufficient warmth is produced in

RED SNOW. 39

a snow hut by the huddling together of three or four
persons within it. When Dr Elisha Kane, the American
explorer, passed a cold arctic winter's night in a hut
beyond Smith's Sound, the temperature produced by its
complement of lodgers, and two or three oil lamps, reached
90° F. ; so that he was compelled by the heat to follow the
example of the rest of the party, and partially to divest
himself of his clothing. Yet in lat. 79° N., Dr Kane marked
a temperature of 75° below zero in the month of February.
No fluid could resist it. Even chloric ether became solid,
and the air was pungent and acrid in respiration.

RED SNOW.

As if it had been ordained that there should be nothing
absolute in nature, snow itself, the very type of whiteness,
sometimes exhibits the most curious colouring. Who, for
instance, has not heard tell of red snow? Its existence
was even known to Pliny, the great Roman naturalist, and
he attributed it to a dust with which the snow became
covered after it had lain several days on the ground.
"Snow itself," he says,* "reddens with old age" (Ipsa nix
vetustate rubescit).

Benedict de Saussure was the first who described red
snow like a naturalist, f He observed it on the occasion of
his ascent of Mont Breven, near Chamounix, in 1760; and
was greatly astonished at seeing the snow tinted in various

* Pliny, " Historia Naturalis," Book xi.

+ De Saussure, "Voyage dans les Alpes," Book Hi., p. 45 (ed. 1803,
Neufchatel).

40 VARIOUS EXPERIMENTS.

places of an extremely vivid red. "In the middle of
each patch," he says, " was the greatest intensity of colour,
and the middle, moreover, was of a lower level than the
edges. On examining this red snow closely, I saw that its
colour depended upon a fine powder which mingled with
it, and which penetrated to a depth of two or three inches.
This powder could not have descended from the summit of
the mountain, since it was found in localities isolated and
even remote from the rocks ; nor did it seem to have been
deposited by the winds, since it did not lie in drifts. One
would have said that it was a production of the snow
itself, a residuum of its thaw. . . . What at first suggested
this opinion was the fact that the colour, extremely weak
on the edges of each concave patch, gradually grew deeper
as it approached the bottom, where the trickling water had
carried down a greater quantity of residuum."

The learned Swiss naturalist found this red snow on many
•>ther mountains, and during a certain period of thaw, sub-
jected it to various experiments, which led him to the con-
clusion that it was a vegetable matter, " a dust, or pollen, of
the stamens of plants." Slightly odorous, it exhaled, during
combustion, a scent not unlike that of sealing-wax.

Ramond met with red snow in the Pyrenees, at an elevation
of 7800 feet. He discovered in it, when burnt on incande-
scent coals, the odour of opium or of chicory. He supposed
that the little deep red lamellae which coloured the snow were
mica, and looked upon the mica as a product of the decompo-

IT A MUSHROOM ?

sition of the rocks by the action of the sun and breezes of
spring. But this opinion was overthrown by Captain Ross,
who, in 1819, found red snow in Baffin's Bay (lat. 85° 54' N.), to
a depth of thirteen feet, over a soil perfectly free from mica.
Other explorers affirm that in those regions they have never
met with the red snow more than three to four inches deep.
Captain Parry, in his Polar voyage, found this coloured snow
principally in the track of his sledges j and, agreeing with Sir
John Ross, he supposed it to derive its redness from the
presence of a kind of mushroom, of the genus Uredo, to
which Bauer has given the name of Uredo nivalis.* Accord-
ing to experiments made by Bauer on specimens brought from
the Polar regions, these tiny mushrooms are, on the average,
a fiftieth of a millimetre in diameter • they develop themselves
like vegetables ; the youngest are sometimes colourless ; when
entirely freed from snow, they grow black under the influence
of an intense cold, without losing their germinative faculty,
and give birth, under the influence of a higher temperature,
to a green matter.

Let us continue to examine the difference of opinion between
naturalists.

De Candolle declared the red snow of the polar regions to
be identical with that of the Alps, after having carefully com-
pared the two. But he saw in it a genus of cryptogams,
differing from the genus Uredo.\ Robert Brown asserted that

* Annales de Chimie et de Physique, vol. xxvii., p. 134.
t Philosophical Transactions, 1820, vol. ii., p. 165.

42 OPINION OF MODERN NA TURALISTS.

it was a kind of alga, allied to the Tremella cruenta. Azara
was of this same opinion, except that, instead of a tremella,
he recognised in it an alga of the genus Protococcus, which he
called Protococcus kermesinus, because its colour resembled that
of the kermes, or cochineal.

In the opinion of the observers whom we have cited, the
colouring corpuscles of the snow belong to the vegetable king-
dom. This opinion was supported by numerous adherents, and
soon acquired so great an authority, that, in an assembly of natu-
ralists at Lausanne, De Candolle overwhelmed with sarcasm
a communication from Lamont, Prior of the Hospice of St
Bernard, on the " animality of red snow." And yet this last
hypothesis was not so rash as might have been supposed;
for Dr Scoresby, to whom we owe a profound study on the
crystalline forms of snow, had already attributed to an animal
matter the colouring of the snow and polar ice.

Now-a-days, however, it may be regarded as finally settled
that this phenomenon is due to the immense aggregation of
minute plants belonging to the species called Protococctts
nivalis;* so called in allusion to the extreme simplicity of
its organisation, and the peculiar nature of its habitat. If we
place a portion of the snow coloured with this plant upon a
piece of white paper, says Mr Macmillan,t and allow it to melt
and evaporate, we find a residuum of granules just sufficient

* It is but fair to add, however, that Vogt and others contend for the
animal origin of this substance, and regard the Protococcus nivalis as simply
a development of the infusoria, Disceraa nivalis.

t Macmillan, "Footnotes from the Page of Nature," pp. 141-143.

THE FROTOCOCCUS NIVALIS. 43

to give a faint crimson tinge to the paper. Placed under the
microscope, these granules resolve themselves into spherical
purple cells, from the T&Wth to the soWth part of an inch in
diameter. Each of these cells has an opening, surrounded by
serrated or indented lines, whose smallest diameter does not
exceed the inhiitth part of an inch ! When perfect, the plant is
not unlike a red-currant b'erry ; as it decays, the red colouring
matter fades into a deep orange, and the deep orange changes
into a dull brown. The thickness of the wall of the cell does
not exceed the suowth part of an inch ! Each cell may be
considered a distinct individual plant, since it is perfectly
independent of others with which it may be aggregated, and
performs for and by itself all the functions of growth and
reproduction, having a containing membrane which absorbs
liquids and gases from the surrounding matrix or elements,
a contained fluid of peculiar character, formed out of these
materials, and a number of excessively minute granules,
equivalent to spores, or, as some would say, to cellular buds,
which are to become the genus of new plants. There is
something, adds Mr Macmillan, extremely mysterious in the
performance of these /jjj\
widely different func- W'
tions, by an organism FIG. s.— Protococcus nivahs.

which appears so excessively simple. That one and the same
primitive cell should thus minister equally to absorption, nutri-
tion, and reproduction, is an extraordinary illustration of the
fact, that the smallest and simplest organised object is, in
itself, and for the part it was created to perform in the ope-

44 ETERNAL SNOWS.

rations of nature, as admirably adapted as the largest and
most complicated.

THE ETERNAL SNOWS.

The epithet " eternal " or " perpetual," applied to snow,
would appear to savour of the ambitious, if not of the profane.
Can we say of anything which belongs to earth that it is
" eternal ? " Assuredly not. The earth has not always worn
the aspect which it now wears, and, at a period not far distant
from its origin, could not in any region have been covered
with snow. Now, whatever has had a beginning cannot be
eternal. Many authors have, for this reason, substituted for
the word eternal the word perpetual. But the latter is equally
inapplicable. Who will venture to affirm that our globe or its
system will endure perpetually ?

This difficulty, however, is one which need not particu-
larly embarrass us. We have been long accustomed to
look upon language as a simple mask, or, at least, as a
very dubious interpreter of thought. And we shall, there-
fore, continue to use indifferently the words " eternal " and
"perpetual."

Let us suppose that two travellers set out from the equator,
that plane of separation between the northern and the southern
hemispheres. Let us also suppose that each proceeds in a
diametrically opposite direction to the other, pursuing his route
along one of those meridian lines which divide the earth into
longitudinal portions, like the slices of a melon (to compare

THE FRIGID ZONES. 45

great things with small). The following will be their climatic
stages : —

At first the two travellers will each traverse a moiety of the
torrid zone, limited below and above the Equator by two parallel
circles, — in the northern hemisphere by the Tropic of Cancer,
and in the southern by the Tropic of Capricorn. Do not let
these appellations alarm you : they show, once more, the
narrow connexity of the heaven with the earth • tropic, coming
from the Greek ro^, signifies a return — the sun returns from
his apparent excursions, after having passed from the tropics to
the zenith. For these circles form the extreme limits of the sun's
march towards the north and towards the south : they are the
two solstices — the summer solstice, when the sun enters the
zodiacal sign of Cancer, and the winter solstice, when it enters
the sign of Capricorn. The torrid zone is the only one which
is thus divided into two portions by the Equinoctial, and which
the sun passes twice a year to the zenith, that is, to the point
directly above the heads of the inhabitants.

After having crossed the tropics, one of our two travellers
will enter the North Temperate Zone, bounded by the Arctic
Polar Circle, — the other, the South Temperate Zone, bounded
by the Antarctic Polar Circle. Having passed the polar
circles, they will find themselves speedily arrested by ice and
snow which never melt — by eternal ice and snow.- These in-
hospitable regions compose the two frigid zones, which cover,
like two immense hoods (forming the 0^82 parts of the terrestrial

46 THE SNO W REGION.

surface), the one, the northern hemisphere, the other, the
southern. *

In their progress through these various climates, our two
travellers will arrive at a very curious comparative result, —
that the southern hemisphere is colder than the northern.
This difference becomes especially recognisable below the 5oth
degree of south latitude ; so that, after passing the Antarctic
Circle, the ice opposes the voyager's course with nearly insur-
mountable obstacles ; while, in the northern hemisphere, the
whaler frequently penetrates to Spitzbergen, situated much
nearer to the Pole than to the Polar Circle. This is a general
fact ; we confine ourselves to putting it forward.

Let us now suppose that our two travellers, always ready to
compare the results of their inquiries, accomplish the ascent
of a very lofty mountain situated under the Equator, such as
Chimborazo. In the course of their ascent, they will traverse
the same climates and the same zones which had marked the
stages of their journey from the Equator to the Poles : at their
starting-point they will find themselves in the Torrid zone, then
will come the Temperate and the Frigid zones, the latter
rendered inaccessible by glaciers and eternal snows. These
vertical zones of the mountain are characterised by vegetables
and animals whose types are found in the corresponding
horizontal zones of the terrestrial surface. But what is most

* The two temperate zones together represent perceptibly the half, or
0.520, and the torrid zone, two-fifths, or, more exactly, 0.398, of the terres-
trial surface.

CHANGES OF THE SNOW LINE. 47

remarkable is, that there exists between the northern and the
southern slopes of the mountain the same difference as between
the southern and northern hemispheres : the line of the eternal
snows descends much lower on the northern than on the
southern slope, in the same manner as, in the southern hemis-
phere, the polar ice advances much nearer the Equator than in
the northern.

Such is the general view-point which we must adopt for the
clearer comprehension of the details of observation. Of course,
when speaking of the limit of the eternal snows, we refer only
to the lower limit, that is to say, to the greatest elevation
attained by the snow-line in the course of a single year. As
for the upper limit, it entirely escapes us ; for the summits of
the loftiest mountains do not reach the atmospheric strata
which, by virtue of their refraction, cannot contain any
vesicular, aqueous, or condensable vapour.

The line of eternal snow which, at the poles •, is found on the
level of the ground, gradually rises as we approach the torrid
zone, where it attains its maximum of elevation, from 13,000
to 17,000 feet. This phenomenon does not exclusively depend
upon the geographical latitude, nor on the mean annual
temperature of the locality : it is the result of an aggregate of
diverse circumstances which we have not the space here to
enumerate and discuss. We shall content ourselves with
placing before the reader a table which will show the remark-
able differences existing in the height of the perpetual snow*
line in various places.

LIFE AMONG THE SNOWS.

THE LINE OF PERPETUAL SNOW.

Latitude.

Place.

Height of
Snow-Line.

Degs.

79 N.

Spitzbergen . .

O

7I*

7O tO DO

Mageroe (Norway)
Norway (Interior of)

2,350

3,500 to 5,100

65

Iceland ....

3>050

54

Oonalashka (W. America)

3>510

50

Altai Mountains

7,034

45

Alps, The, N. declivity .

8,885

45

Do., S. declivity .

9,150

43

The Caucasus

11,863

43

The Pyrenees

9,000

40 .

Mount Ararat

14,150

36

Karakorum, N. side

17,500

36

Do., S. side

19,300

36

Kuen-luen, N. side

15,000

35

Do., S. side

15,680

29

Himalaya, N. side

19,560

28

Do., N. side

15,500

17

Cordilleras of Mexico

14,650

i3

Ethiopian Mountains

14,075

i S.

Andes, in Quito

15,680

16

Do., in Bolivia, E.

15,800

18

Do., in Bolivia, W.

18,400

33

Do., in Chili

14,600

43

Do., in Patagonia

6,300

54

Strait of Magelhaens

3,7oo

THE INHABITANTS OF THE ETERNAL SNOWS.

If men have the faculty of living under all climates, they
make use of that faculty, as we know, with extreme reserve.
They have never permanently inhabited the polar regions and
the perpetually snowy summits of the mountains : it is only
at intervals that a few pioneers have temporarily ventured
thither. Starting from this fact, it was long believed that the

THE ARCTIC VOLE.

49

zone of eternal snows was not inhabited by any living being.
Even men of science admitted, as an article of faith, that
where man could not fix his residence no animal could live.
They made, however, a concession with respect to vegetables,
and particularly as regarded the lichens and the mosses.

Well, observation and research conjointly, have erased this
article of faith from the scientific code. It has been demon-
strated that the icy regions, which man visits only at rare
intervals, and where he sojourns but for a time, are the home
of a certain number of animal species, more or less allied to
the human species. The scientific exploration of these re-
gions dates only from our own time. Spitzbergen, and the
summit of the Alps, — such are our points of comparison.

It is difficult to conceive of anything more interesting than
the historical exposition of the limited Fauna gladalis. First,
let us take the discovery, comparatively recent, of a small
rodent of the mouse order.

THE ARVICOLA LEUCURUS, OR ARCTIC VOLE.
On the 8th of January 1832, a Swiss naturalist, M. Hugi,
started from Soleure to study the winter condition of the
classic glacier of Grindelwald. The undertaking was in many
respects a difficult one ; the sides of the Mettenberg, border-
ing on this glacier, were covered with an uniform stratum of
hardened snow ; a pathway had to be cut out with the pick-
axe. M. Hugi and his companions did not arrive at the
Slierreg until towards evening.

A goatherd lives there during the summer. They sought

x>

AN ALPINE SCENE.

around and about for his little cabin, but, on the uniform white

FIG. 9. — Among the Alps.

carpet of snow which covered everything, no sign of it could

DESCRIPTION OF A RODENT.

be detected. At length they came upon a little mound, which
they immediately proceeded to excavate; and late in the
night they discovered the roof of the hut. They then re-
doubled their efforts to sweep away the snow obstructing the
door. On opening it a score of mice emerged from the cabin,
some of which they killed.

For a picture of the poor victims we are indebted to M.
Hugi. " These little rodents are of a yellowish gray, and very
slender; from the head to the tip of the tail they measure
about nine inches. The hind paws are of a length wholly
disproportionate to the fore paws. The tail and ears are
naked ; their transparency is remarkable. . . . This animal,"
adds M. Hugi, " appeared to me completely unknown, and I
do not remember to have seen it in any zoological collection,"

After determining its genus and species, the intrepid explorer
of the Alps was entitled to have given it a name ; but this
honour escaped him.

The same little rodent
has since been found in
many other parts of the
Alps ; notably among
the rocks of the Grands-
Mulets,some 12,500 feet
above the sea-level.

Desirous of comparing the climate of Spitzbergen with that
of the summit of the Alps, M. Martins established himself, in
1841, with his friend, A. Bravais, on the Faulhorn. "While,"
he says, " we were engaged in our experiments, we often per-

FIG. io.— The Arctic Vole.

52 WHAT'S IN A NAME 1

ceived a little animal passing swiftly by us, and stealthily glid-
ing into its burrow. We remarked that it was also found in
the auberge, or inn, and that it fed upon Alpine plants. At
the first glance, its resemblance to the common mouse led
us to think that this inconvenient guest had followed man
into his abode on the Faulhorn, as it had formerly crossed the
seas on board ship. But a more attentive examination showed
me that, far from being a mouse, it was a species of vole,
which had hitherto escaped the researches of naturalists. I
designated it by the name of the snow-vole, Arvicola nivalis"

It was the same animal which M. Hugi had discovered
nine years before. The ice was broken, and names, both
generic and specific, afterwards fell like hail on the body of
our poor little rodent Some would have had it called —

Hypudseus alpinus. Hypudseus nivicola.

Hypudseus petrophilus. Hypudseus Hugei.

Others, and fewer in number, preferred the designation of
" White-tailed Vole,"—

Arvicola leucurus.
Others again, " the Lebrun vole," —

Arvicola Lebrunii.

Which of all these names shall prevail? We cannot say,
and it matters very little to us. Perhaps the nomenclators
may in time agree among themselves upon the appellation of
the genus. However this may be, we know — and it is an im-
portant fact — that a mammal exists at altitudes where men
could not live, and that he is found in the Alps, above even

ABOUT THE MARMOT. 53

the lower limit of the perpetual snows. Is it the only mammal
which can live at such a height ?

THE MARMOT.

Who, in the wide world of London, where so many waifs
and strays are drifting with the great current of human life,
has not observed the Savoyard wanderer with his dancing
marmot? If the man did not attract our notice, his curious
companion would. In form he belongs partly to the bear,
and partly to the rat. Naturalists have, therefore, expressly
created for him the genus Arctomys, — a Latinised Greek name,
signifying " The Bear-Rat."

In fact, the marmot resembles Harlequin's cloak, or rather,
if it be permissible to compare little things with great, the
Austrian Empire, — a composite of territories and races; and
Buffon has described him very aptly. He has, he says,
the nose, the lips, and the shape of the head of the hare;
the hair and nails of the badger ; the teeth of the beaver ; the
cat's whiskers ; the eyes of the dormouse ; the feet of the bear,
with a short tail and truncated ears.

Add to this that the marmot — he is a little larger than a
rabbit — is omnivorous like man and the bear, with whom he
shares his aptitude for dance and sport. While he eats any
and everything, he nevertheless prefers vegetable food to all
other kinds ; and with his orange-coloured incisors gnaws the
bark of shrubs. He rarely drinks, but when he does drink
takes a hearty draught ; is particularly fond of milk ; drinks it
by raising his head at each mouthful, like a hen, and giving

54 THE MO UN TAIN RA TS.

utterance to an audible murmur of contentment, just as if he
were reciting his Benedicite. Will it be in allusion to this
characteristic that the common French phrase has originated,
Mar matter des prieres ? *

During the summer the marmots inhabit the snowy sum-
mits of the Alps. At the beginning of autumn they descend
to a lower level, for the purpose of excavating the burrows in
which they pass the winter, completely benumbed by the
frost. This is the time when the hunters easily capture them ;
they have nothing to do but to dig (creuser is the technical
word) ; and frequently they are found as many as ten or
twelve in the same burrow, rolled up like balls, and buried in a
litter of hay. Their sleep, says De Saussure, is so profound,
that the hunter deposits them in his sack and carries them away
without awakening them. The Chamounix hunters, he adds,
have already entirely expelled or destroyed the goats formerly
so abundant on their mountains ; and it is probable that, in
less than a century, we shall see neither chamois nor marmots.

This prophecy of De Saussure's is on the point of being
realised. Still, even at the present day, marmots are not very
rare in the Valais and the canton of Ticino (du Tissin), where
they are called Mure montane (mountain rats) ; a phrase from
which is derived, without doubt, the appellation marmot.
They prefer as their abode the stony islets which rise here
and there in the midst of the rocks. The ears of travellers
who venture into the barrenest recesses of the Alps of the
Bernese Oberland are sometimes struck by a very sharp
* That is, muttering, marmot-wise, one's prayers.

WHAT WERE GRAETPS BALLS'} 55

whistling, for which, at first, they find it difficult to account.
It is the young marmot's cry of alarm ; for the old appear to
be deprived of this strident faculty.

For a considerable period only a single species was known
— the marmot properly so called (Arctomys marmotta, Gmelin) ;
but four others must now be added : — ist, The marmot of the
Caucasus (Arctomys musicus\ still imperfectly known ; 2d, The
marmot of Canada (Arctomys empetrd), who clambers up the
trees like a cat, and is distributed throughout all North
America, particularly in Hudson's Bay, and Alaska, on the
north-west coast j 3d, The Arctomys monax, who appears to be
peculiar to Maryland ; 4th, The Russian marmot (Arctomys tit-
illus\ of the size of a field-mouse, and of a brown colour,
spotted with white; 5th, The marmot of Siberia (Arctomys
bobac\ smaller than the common species, of a yellow gray, and
building vast burrows shaped like a funnel.

Will the reader permit us an allusion, in passing, to a ques-
tion which we do not see discussed in books of natural
history ? Formerly among the treasures of ancient druggists
figured a kind of panacea, called "Graetz's balls." What
were these " Graetz's balls," at one time esteemed as a uni-
versal medicine, but no longer included in our pharmacopeia ?

This was their origin : — The subterranean dwellings which
certain species of marmots construct with so much skill, are
each composed of two galleries, which unite together like the
arms of a Y, and terminate in a cul-de-sac. There are found
the globules of clay known as "Graetz's balls." They are
an industrial product of our rodents, as M. Oscar Schmidt

56 THE CHAMOIS AND THE BEZOARS.

established in 1866, by close observation of the Arctomys
bobac of the Zoological Garden of Vienna. The marmot
creates these balls by scratching up the earth, and appears
to amuse himself— a child's amusement ! — by rolling them to
and fro in his galleries.

THE CHAMOIS.

"Even so
This way the chamois leapt." *

Must we omit this graceful ruminant from the number of
mammals inhabiting the eternal snows ? No ; for it is not of
his own will that the chamois has taken refuge upon the snowy
peaks of the Alps. If we meet with him there, it is because he
seeks to shelter himself from the destructive instincts of man.

The chamois is one of those animal species which, before
a century, perhaps, will have disappeared ; his bones will then
figure in the palaeontological museums by the side of the
skeletons of extinct species. There, too, will be displayed
the famous chamois balls, each of the size of a nut, covered
with a shining substance resembling leather, of an agreeable
odour, and seeming to be a morbid dejection, composed of
roots and other undigested matter. These balls, the bezoars
of the old physicians, were regarded as a remedy against every
ill the human flesh is heir to ; it was even professed that they
rendered soldiers invulnerable, and were a better defence
against bullets than the finest armour ever wrought by the
smiths of Milan. How precious a remedy for this epoch of
civilisation, when man — is he much wiser than his supposed
* Byron.

THE EAGLE'S HABITAT. 57

progenitor, the ape ? — seeks to replace the cholera and the
pestilence by the most terrific engines of destruction !

The birds inhabiting the inhospitable region of the snows
are more numerous than the mammals. Let us briefly refer
to a few of the more important

THE EAGLE AND THE WREN.

In speaking of the eagle, Tennyson's noble lines to that
" imperial bird " will occur to every reader, from the force and
clearness of the picture which they present : —

" He clasps the crag with hooked hands ;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

" The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls."

The affection of the eagle for his " mountain walls " may
be easily understood. This giant bird, with his carnivorous
instincts, is endowed with a remarkable tenacity of life,
and can exist in habitats wholly inaccessible to man. But
it is strange that a bird, which is as common a type of
humility as the eagle is of ambition, and which we almost
always cite as a contrast to the eagle — we mean, the delicate
little wren — should also be found among the snow and ice,
the silence and solitude, of the loftiest mountain regions.

To study the flight of the eagle, we should repair to
Alpine highlands. When he has reached a certain altitude
of the atmosphere, the royal bird descends obliquely, as
upon an inclined plane, with a rush and a din of wings,

58 THE EAGLE'S FLIGHT.

and at a speed of upwards of thirty-six yards per second.
We assured ourselves of the accuracy of this fact during
an ascent of Mount Hochkcerpf, in the canton of Claris.
The bird traversed in six minutes a space of 40,000 Swiss
feet, which is equal to about forty yards per second. This
result agrees, on the whole, with the observations of a
traveller, who wrote in the Nouvelle Gazette de Zurich, on
the 26th of August 1863 : —

"A society of tourists set out from Corri to climb the
Stiitzerhorn, which is 8400 feet in height. From the sum-
mit they perceived an enormous eagle, which, having taken
his flight from Calanda, beyond the Rhine, directed his
course towards the Stiitzerhorn, for the purpose of halting,
after a certain inflection, on the side of the Rothhorn."

The duration of the flight was five minutes; the interval
between the starting-point and the point of arrival, two
French leagues and a half. In three hundred seconds,
therefore, the eagle must have traversed a space of 3000
Swiss feet, which is equal to a speed of forty-five yards
per second. Hence, the swiftness of the eagle's flight is
nearly equal to the velocity of sound.

One of the most admirable descriptions of the habits of
this bird with which we are acquainted, is furnished by the
well-known naturalist Macgillivray : —

"There he stands" — on his lonely crag — "nearly erect,
with his tail depressed, his large wings half raised by his
side, his neck stretched out, and his eye glistening as he
glances around. Like other robbers of the desert, he has

A NOBLE PICTURE. 59

a noble aspect, an imperative mien, a look of proud defiance ;
but bis nobility has a cast of clownishness, and his falconship
a vulturine tinge. Still he is a noble bird, powerful, inde-
pendent, proud, and ferocious, regardless of the weal or woe
of others, and intent only on the gratification of his own
appetite; without generosity, without honour; bold against
the defenceless, but ever ready to sneak from danger. Such
is his nobility, about which men have so raved.

" Suddenly he raises his wings, for he has heard the whistle
of the shepherd on the crag, and bounding forward, he springs
into the air. Hardly do those vigorous flaps serve at first to
prevent his descent, but now curving upwards, he glides ma-
jestically along. As he passes the corner of that buttressed
and battlemented crag, forth rush two ravens from their nest,
croaking fiercely. While one flies above him, the other steals
beneath, and they essay to strike him, but dare not, for they
have an instinctive knowledge of the power of his grasp ; and,
after following him a little way, they return to their home,
vainly exulting in the thought of having driven him from their
neighbourhood.

"But on a far journey, he advances in a direct line, flapping
his great wings at regular intervals, then shooting along without
seeming to move them. In ten minutes he has progressed three
miles, although he is in no haste, and now disappears behind
the shoulder of the hill. But we may follow him in imagina-
tion, for his habits being well known to us, we may be allowed
the ornithological license of tracing them in continuance."

Homeward bound, — Mr Macgillivray continues, — after hav-

60 HOMEWARD BOUND.

ing supplied his own wants, he knows that his young must be
provided with food. Therefore he sweeps across the moor, at
a height of two or three hundred feet, bending his course to
either side, his wings wide-spread, his neck and feet retracted

FIG. ii.— The Eagle's Habitat.

now beating the air, and again sailing smoothly along. Sud-
denly he halts, poises himself for a moment, stoops, but re-
covers himself without touching the ground. The object of

A FORMIDABLE FOE. 61

his regards, a golden plover, which he spied on her nest, has
contrived to elude him, and he does not care to pursue her.
Now, then, he ascends a little, wheels in short abrupt curves,
presently rushes down headlong, assumes the horizontal posi-
tion when close to the ground, prevents himself from being
dashed against it by expanding his wings and tail, thrusts forth
his talons, and grasping a poor, terrified ptarmigan that sat
cowering among the gray lichens, squeezes it to death, raises
his head exultingly, utters a clear, shrill cry, and, rising from
the ground, pursues his journey.

As he passes a tall cliff overhanging a silent lake, he is
attacked by a fierce peregrine falcon, which darts and plunges
at him, as if resolved to deprive him of his booty, or drive him
headlong to the ground. A more formidable foe is this than
the raven • and the eagle, with a scream and a yelp, throws
himself into postures of defence, until, at length, the hawk,
perceiving that the tyrant has no intention of plundering his
nest, leaves him to pursue his course without further mo-
lestation. Over dense woods, and green fields, and scattered
hamlets, the eagle speeds ; and now he enters the long river-
valley, near whose upper end, cradled in mist, rises the rock of
his eyrie. About a mile from it he meets his mate, who has
been abroad on a similar design, and is returning with a white
hare as her spoil. With loud strident cries they congratulate
each other, cries that alarm the drowsy shepherd on the green
strath below, who, remembering the lambs carried off in spring-
time, discharges at them a volley of maledictions.

Their nest is of considerable size, but rudely constructed ;

62

THE LAMB-SLAYER.

a pile of twigs and heather and dead sticks, somewhat hollow
in the middle, where lies a thin deposit of wool and feathers.
Here repose the eaglets, two in number, and clothed in soft
white down.

Independently of the species which, like the Pandion
halicetuSy and the Aquila ncevia^ inhabit the lower regions, the
eagles which visit the Alps are very remarkable. Thus, the

FIG. 12. — The Lammergeier.

species of Gypaetos, which the inhabitants designate under the
name of the Lammergeier, or " Lamb-slayer," is the European

VARIOUS SPECIES Of EAGLES. 63

condor. The spread of his wings is about ten feet ; he weighs
from eighteen to twenty-four pounds, and can easily carry off
in his talons kids, lambs, and even children.

The Strinadler, which, like the preceding, belongs to the
inaccessible mountains of the cantons of Claris, Schwyz, the
Grisons, Appenzell, and Berne, would seem to be a variety
or sub-species of the Aquila imperialis. The inhabitants of
Eblingen, a village on the borders of the Lake of Brienz,
hunt him vigorously. Finally, some eagles there are which
only sojourn in the Alps temporarily; they appear to be
astray; such are —

The Circaetus leucopsis, which has a particular affection for
serpent-haunted districts ;

The Haliatus Zeucocephala, with head and tail of a milky
white, belonging to the north of Europe and America ; and

The Neophron percnopterus, or Egyptian eagle, of carrion-
like odour, which is sometimes met with in the neighbour-
hood of Geneva.

The tawny-headed vulture ( Vultur fulvus), and the ashy
vulture (Vultur anereus), with gray-brown mouth, and a
brownish collar round his bare neck, are extremely rare in
Switzerland.

But we now take leave of the eagle, and turn our atten-
tion to the lowly wren, whose charming but simple music
has been described in charming but simple verse by Bishop

Mant :—

" The quick note of the russet wren,

Familiar to the haunts of men ;

64

OUR "JENNY WRENr

He quits in hollowed wall his bower,

And through the winter's gloomy hour

Sings cheerily ; nor yet hath lost

His blitheness, chilled by pinching frost,

Nor yet is forced for warmth to cleave

To caverned nook or straw-built cave, —

Sing, gentle bird ! sing on, designed

A lesson for our anxious kind,

That we, like thee, with hearts content"

The wren here referred to is a British species, the com-
mon wren, or Troglodytes vulgaris, one of the smallest of
our British songsters ; a restless, lively bird, which twitters
about the hedgerows in summer, and about the garden and
shrubbery in winter, and chanting his mellow song even
under the gloomy sky of December. Allied to this familiar
bird is the Gold-crowned Knight,* or Sylvia regulus^ which is
found in the Alpine deserts at an elevation of 9000 to
10,000 feet. Like our own Jenny Wren, he has a very

fine, slender bill, which
denotes his insectivorous
propensities. He is easily
known by the little crest
of silky feathers which he
wears on his head, like a
diadem, and also by his
peculiar cry of soud-i-l-i.
Our crowned knight is

FIG. i3.-The Wren. vefy partial to the society

of the tits, and, like them, he is easily caught with bird-

Also called the Golden-crested Wren.

A LIILIPUT1AN GYMNAST. 65

lime. He is so fond of the company of other birds, that,
when he finds himself alone, he becomes disquieted ; his
prolonged tiny chirp grows plaintive ; and he flies to and
fro in quest of comrades. He may be regarded as a trust-
worthy barometer, for, prior to rainy weather, his song is
very loud and incessant. Devoted to the pursuit of insects
or their larvae, he seems to pay no attention to the passer-by ;
he flutters vivaciously from branch to branch, and puts him-
self in all imaginable positions, sometimes with his head
upwards, sometimes with his head downwards. We have
often watched, with extreme gratification, the acrobatic
tricks of our Lilliputian gymnast. Occasionally, before he
perches, you will see him, in a frenzy of indecision, rapidly
agitating his wings, and revolving them like a wheel. If
you look at him, while thus engaged, against the light, you
will think you see a tiny, ethereal, diaphanous spinning-top.
After " assisting " at such a spectacle, which the first wood
will furnish, you will not be indisposed to admit with us,
that the bird designated by the Greeks r^/Xof, or "little
wheel," and whose identity has so often been discussed,
was, in reality, our golden-crested knight. Moreover, he
is a true cosmopolite, in every acceptation of the word.
Not only does he never quit us, not only does he remain
faithful to us throughout the year, but we meet with him
over all Europe. He is also found in Asia, and even, it
is said, in America, from the West Indies to Canada. His
flight being very short, it is supposed that he passed from

one hemisphere to another by way of Behririg's Strait. It

E

66 THE SNOW-BUNTING.

is certain, at all events, that he discovered the New World
before Christopher Columbus.

During the severe cold of the winter of 1867-8, we saw our
knight — a very rare circumstance — haunt the vicinity of our
houses, though he prefers the green shade of the forests, and
especially of the forests of pine and fir. He who has seen
him pecking at the bark and leaves of these trees, while
the ground was covered with snow, and during a frost of
10° below zero (C.), will feel no astonishment at meeting him
upon the snowy summits of the Alps.

Yet this pet bird of ours, this Lilliputian warbler, does not
weigh more, with all his feathers, than a quarter of an ounce,
or the two thousandth part of an eagle. Away with the hunter
who would attempt such tiny game ! A bird so small that he
glides through the meshes of a net, — so delicate, that if you
would not irreparably injure your " specimen," you must shoot
him with a few grains of finest shot, — a bird of such frail
appearance, withstanding all climates, and distributed over
the entire surface of the globe, — here is a subject worthy
the meditation of man, who pretends to be the "lord of
creation ! "

THE SNOW-BUNTING — (Emberiza plectrophanes nivalis).

This is the snow-lark-bunting of Macgillivray, and a species
of the genus Plectrophanes. In Scotland, he is frequently
called the Snow-flake, and, in other parts of Great Britain,
the Snow or Oat-fowl. His weight does not exceed an ounce
and a half. His bill and legs are black ; his forehead and

ITS FAVOURITE LOCALITIES.

67

crown white, with an admixture of black on the hind part
of the head; black are the back and sides, but each wing
is marked by a broad belt of white; the quill feathers are

FIG. 14.— The Crests of Inaccessible Rocks.

black, with white bases; the secondaries are white, with
black spots on the interior webs.

The snow-bunting's favourite localities, where he loves to

68 THE RED-BILLED CROW.

build his nest, are the crests of inaccessible rocks, surrounded
by vast fields of snow, in whose midst the sun and tempest
have created a few oases. The most he does is to approach
the hospices of Monts St Bernard and St Gothard, and con-
struct his nest under the eaves of their roofs. This nest, made
of long blades of grass, is lined internally with hair and the
feathers of poultry. At the beginning of May, the female
lays six eggs of a snowy whiteness, and the male assists in
hatching them, and bringing up the young. The bill of the
latter is, at first, of a bright yellow, which turns black, like
that of the parents, as they grow older.

The snow-bunting rarely descends into the wooded region.
Of a very sprightly disposition, he spends nearly all his life
in the midst of the snows and the ice. His song somewhat
resembles that of the finch, which he also resembles in size
and social instincts j for he may frequently be seen in numer-
ous bands hovering above the highest mountains.

The snow-bunting is also met with in the northern districts
of Asia and America.

THE RED-BILLED CROW — (Corvus pyrrhocoraoc],
The familiar cry of this bird, who resembles the thrush, —
the krapp-krapp of the red-billed crow (la corneille des nieges], —
agreeably falls on the ear of the traveller, when wandering
through solitudes devoid of any other living being. By their
cries and their presence these birds animate the denuded
rocks which rise like promontories in seas of ice. They are
easily distinguished from other species by their coral-red bills;

A ZIRD'S CURIOUS WAYS. 69

whence their name of Pyrrhocorax. They nest in troops in
the crevices of the most inaccessible rocks, and propagate
there from generation to generation. Their presence is indi-
cated by enormous heaps of ordure, veritable guano, which
might well be used for manure. Their abrupt ascents and
strident cries are signs of bad weather, which the mountaineer
knows how to profit by.

If caught when young, these birds are easily domesticated.
M. Tschudi, in his " Life among the Alps," relates the history
of one who had been tamed. He would himself go in quest
of the bread, cheese, and fruits which composed his repast ;
then, holding in his claws the prize he had coveted, devour it
with avidity. What remained ot his meal he carefully con-
cealed in paper, and would gallantly defend the hidden trea-
sure against whomsoever dared to approach it, against dogs
as well as man. Fire had a singular attraction for him ; he
would extract from a lamp the burning wick, and swallow it
without sustaining any injury ; he would swallow even the
debris of the charcoal as he fluttered about the chimney. He
showed an excessive joy at the sight of smoke, and loudly
clapped his wings. Whenever he caught sight of any burning
coal, he did not fail to pick up immediately all the paper, rags,
or twigs he could lay his claws on; these he would place
in the stove, and amuse himself by watching the smoke they
gave forth. If a stranger entered the room, he gave vent to
the most deafening cries, though he was exceedingly gentle
and familiar towards persons with whom he was acquainted.
His friends and favourites he distinguished in a peculiar man-

70 A SPECIES OF LIZAXD.

ner; he ran in front of them, displayed his joy by expanding
his wings, and alternately perched himself on their hands, their
head, their shoulders, eyeing them all over, and bending his
head as if to kiss them. Every morning he entered his
master's bedroom, called him by his name, posted himself on
his pillow, and waited tranquilly until he awoke ; then he ex-
pressed his satisfaction by all kinds of gestures and noises.

REPTILES.

Close to the line of perpetual snow a black variety of vipers
has been met with ; but none of the serpent race ever cross
that line.

The only reptile found within the boundaries of the snowy
region is a kind of lizard (Zootoca pyrrhogas tra), the only one,
perhaps, of all the vertebrata which could live at an elevation
above the sea-level of more than 9500 feet, buried in the
snow for upwards of ten months.

During the few bright summer weeks, he feeds upon some
rare insects and spiders.

The frigid zone is so far the natural habitat of these lizards,
that they would rather die of hunger than live in the more
genial regions to which men have wished to transplant them.
In length they nearly equal our common lizards, but they are
not quite so big ; their back is of a chesnut brown, marked
with black streaks and dots ; the throat is bluish ; the belly of
the male is of a greenish blue, spotted with black, while that of
the female is of so lively a red as to have suggested the name
of the species, Pyrrhogastra ; just as the name of the genus

INHABITANTS OF THE DESERT. 71

is derived from the circumstance that the young are hatched
in the mother's belly, and are born alive like the young of a
mammal. This statement, too, holds good with respect to the
viper, which also endures the cold of elevated regions.

INFERIOR ANIMALS.

Our information is still very incomplete so far as relates to
the molluscs, the arachnida, and the insects which inhabit the
frigid zone. The Alpine snail (Helix Atyicola), so remarkable
for its transparency, appears to be the sole mollusc which, in
certain localities, attains to an elevation of 7000 feet. It is,
however, surpassed by the earthworm, which is not only
distributed over the surface of every country, but ascends to
the snowy summits of the loftiest mountains. Few animals
have their geographical distribution so extended both hori-
zontally and vertically j and only some species of spiders and
millepeds keep company with the earthworm.

Among the other inhabitants of the snows have also been
observed a dozen species of butterflies, — nearly all diurnal, — for
the phalsense (?), or nocturnal Lepidoptera, appear to be much
more sensible to the cold. M. Agassiz saw the " Little Vulcan "
( Vanessa urticce) fluttering in the snowy desert which borders
on the glacier of Aar, as if it were completely in its element.
The wings of the majority of these butterflies are sombre-
coloured ; their caterpillars live upon the auriculas, and seem
to accomplish' their metamorphoses in regions uninhabitable
to us. The leaf-wasp (Tenthredo spinacula) appears to de-
posit its larvae, at a height of nearly 10,000 feet, in the galls

72 THE SNOW-FLEA DESCRIBED.

of the Alpine rose (rhododendron f err ngineum and rhododendron
hirsufum.)

The coleoptera have also numerous representatives in the
region of perpetual snows, with this difference — equally charac-
teristic of other animals — that, upon the southern declivity,
they ascend 1000 to 1500 feet higher than on the northern.
We may mention, as specially distributed in the topmost zone
of the Alpine world : —

The Chrysomela salicina, a pretty little beetle, sometimes
blue, sometimes deep green, and finely punctuated, which lives
almost exclusively upon a species of dwarf willow (Salix
retusd).

The Nebria Escheri, a black beetle, about two thirds
of an inch long, with feet and antennae of a brownish
red; and

The Nebria Chevrierii, with rust-coloured feet and antennae,
common in the sources of the Rhine.

Special mention must be made of the Snow-Flea. Do not
think we are referring to an insect of the same species as our
common fleas : the snow-flea approximates much more closely
to the lice family than to the fleas, though it hops like the
latter. The history of its discovery dates back as far as 1839.
At this epoch, M. Desor, a learned Swiss naturalist, had
undertaken some researches upon the glaciers. Accompanied
by some friends, he set out from the hospice of the Grimsel,
and arrived in the vicinity of the glacier of the Lower Aar,

DESOR 'S DISCO VER Y. 73

He had commenced his observations, when suddenly he heard
Agassiz calling him, and shouting, " Come, come, make haste ;
here are your Mont Rosa fleas." Desor ran to the spot, and
saw under a stone the little creatures whom Agassiz persisted
in taking to be veritable lice, pretending they had been
accidentally brought to these heights.

" I recognised with extreme joy," says M. Desor, " the little
creatures whose loss I had regretted a year before. They are
not pretty, but, on the contrary, very ugly. However, they
showed, in opposition to the opinion of Agassiz, that they really
inhabited the glacier, and were not merely chance visitors. We
found them by thousands under other stones. . . . Our guide,
with whom the glaciers were old acquaintances, had never
seen them before, and the tiny creatures excited his astonish-
ment. What surprised us most was the rapidity with which
they penetrated into even the most compact ice, till they
resembled blood-corpuscles circulating in their vessels. This
fact shows that there exist, in the hardest and most transparent
ice, certain capillary fissures which escape an unskilled eye :
it also proves that the glaciers, on their surface, and down to
a certain depth, are by no means incompatible with the de-
velopment of organised beings." *

The tiny insect in question was at first baptized by the
name of Desoria saltans (order of the Thysanowa of Latreille),
but has since received definitively the name of Desoria glacialis.
It belongs to the family of the Podura, singular creatures

* C. Vogt, Agassiz, und seiner Freunde geologische Alpenreisen, p.
181. Frankfort, 1847.

74 A COMPARISON OF SPECIES.

which, by virtue of their form, are a link between the earwigs

and the spiders.

These are its generic characters : —

The body elongated, cylindrical, garnished with long seti-
form hairs, and composed of eight segments,
six of which are perfectly distinct, and two
(the two latter) #ery short, and scarcely per-
ceptible; four-jointed antennas, longer than the
head ; long, slender, cylindrical feet ; forked
tail, silky, and transversely wrinkled; seven

FIG. I5.--ZVI0- eyes, laterally grouped at the base of each

na glactahs; a,

enaiaurged?ize; * antenna ; body without scales.

The Desoria glacialis, a species at present unique, is of a
velvety black, and about one-sixth of an inch in length.

The Podura plumbea (or "Spring Tail"),
common enough in England, and found
under all kinds of stones, will give the
reader an idea of the flea of the glaciers.

1

"f-^Kf On comparing these two species, we

remark, first, that the Podura plumbea
is somewhat longer and thicker in body
than the flea of the glaciers (see Fig.

FIG. 16. — Poduraplumbea;

a, natural size; ^enlarged. ifi. ^ ^^ ^ . ^ enlarged); but it

is more particularly by the length of its antennae that we
distinguish it. It owes its specific name of Plumbea to
the livid blue or leaden colour of the scales which cover
its body. These scales resemble those of butterflies ; only
they are much smaller, more finely situated, and very

A SINGULAR APPLIANCE. 75

variable in form and size (Fig. 17). In catching it great
care is required, for it is so easily crushed; it is, besides,

very soft to the touch, though, when examined
(8|v jrjk
W\(fj with a microscope, it is seen to bristle all

over with hairs, apparently very hard.

Our podurtz have also the faculty of
FIG. 17. leaping, and cling by thousands to humid
places, especially to mosses and the under-surface of
stones. The mechanism of their leap is explained by the
presence of a forked, flexible, and elastic appendage,
lodged in a kind of ventral groove beneath the last
segments; by projecting this rapidly behind, the whole
body of the animal is thrown forward. At the slightest con-
tact the insect folds up its caudal appendage under its belly,
and you would then suppose it did not possess one. This
circumstance explains why, in many books of natural history
of good repute, the podurcz, and especially so common a
species as the Podura plumbea^ are represented without this
characteristic instrument.

HERBACEOUS PLANTS WHICH BEST ENDURE THE COLD
OF WINTER.

The " way to look at things/' which is the true foundation
of science, varies, not only according to a man's degree of
intellectual cultivation, but according to his social condition
or profession. The herborist has eyes only for the plants in
which he deals, — the "simples" which, as we read in old
Gerarde, wrought such wonderful cures in the days of our

76 TRUE SCIENCE IS UNSELFISH.

forefathers, — and from the most exquisite flowers he turns
with indifference. The gardener, on the other hand, is
wholly absorbed by his love and his hate, — his charming
exotics, and his troublesome weeds. The latter he regards
with much the same feelings as a society wholly composed
of honest men would regard an infusion of the " dangerous
elements ; " for weeds, like rogues, take what is not their
own, and deprive others of their means of sustenance. But
to classify plants according to their virtues or vices is not
worthy of science, exclaims the rigid botanist. Would you
mingle vile self-interest with the pure study of the vegetable
kingdom? Remember that all selfish feelings ought to be
banished from the sublime sanctuary of analysis and synthesis.

This sounds exceedingly well. Disinterested words, from
whatever quarter they come, always produce — perhaps, on
account of their comparative rarity — an admirable effect.
But what is their real value? To ascertain it, the listener
must be able to seize, like so many luminous threads, all
the emotions which are acting upon the heart and tongue
of the speaker. But we are very far from having arrived
at this degree of perfection. Shall we ever attain to it?
Yes, because we can conceive its possibility. But, until
that golden epoch, the pure love of science will always
remain a myth, and we shall not have universally under-
stood the necessity of seeking in the profound study of
nature the grand destiny of man.

It is among the weeds and noxious plants that we shall
find the species capable of enduring longest the cold of

WHY DOES E VIL EXIST? 77

winter. What part, then, do they fulfil in the economy of
creation? An ambitious, but not a novel question, which
has often been propounded in reference to our parasitical
insects.

The best answer which we can make to it is this : Every-
thing invites us to work. Labour is imposed even upon
him who least desires it. Earth will yield a return only in
proportion to the care we bestow upon her.

If, after having toiled and sown, we had nothing to do
but to gather in the harvest, every person would become
an agriculturist. But a soil which is not manured will
soon grow exhausted ; and if it be neither ploughed nor
harrowed, instead of barley or vegetables, it will soon be
covered with tares ; rank weeds will flourish in every field.
Such is the chastisement reserved for sloth, — the true " original
sin " of the human race.

Well, then, it is among the weeds, everywhere so com-
mon, that we meet with the plants best able to brave the
rigours of frost.

THE DOG MERCURY.

The annual Dog Mercury (Mercurialis annua) is one of the
most tenacious. It attracts the passer-by, if he condescend
to bestow a glance upon it, only by its extreme abund-
ance ; it propagates very largely, though it is by no means
partial to all localities. For instance, it avoids the woods
as persistently as its congener, the common Dog Mercury
(Mercurialis perennis) seeks them. It prefers the vicinity

78 THE ANNUAL DOG MERCURY.

of human habitations and uncultivated fields. If let alone,
it spreads with a dangerous rapidity, and invades every
garden which is not kept in the most exquisite order.
Still, we must not deal too harshly with it. It is not
altogether unfriendly to man. In truth, owing to its laxative
properties, it renders him invaluable services. The country
people have great faith in fomentations of Dog Mercury
and honey. Understand, we pray you, that not an atom of
mercury enters into it, despite its significant name; but a
decoction of the annual Dog Mercury, mixed with a little
thick honey, answers all the purposes of those lenitive
clysters which are so beneficial to excitable temperaments.
The leaves of the plant are eaten in Germany like spinach.

Of the Mercurialis perennis Mr Sowerby writes : — " This
plant was formerly used in medicine, but has long been
abandoned as a remedy. It is extremely acrid, and even
poisonous, though recommended in some old books as a
good pot-herb, probably from being confounded with the
annual species. When steeped in water, the leaves give
out a fine blue colour resembling indigo. This colouring
matter is turned red by acids, and destroyed by alkalis,
but is otherwise permanent; it might possibly prove valu-
able as a dye, if any means could be discovered of fixing
it, and the herb has been introduced into this work with
the view of drawing the attention of chemists to the subject ;
no experiments seem to have been lately made upon it."

Let us now advise you how to distinguish our medicinal
plant from the " ill weeds" with which it loves to associate.

ITS CHARACTERISTICS. 79

Its ovate, rough, irregularly-dentated, and petiolated leaves
would not give it a sufficiently marked character, had it no
other features peculiar to itself. But observe the yellowish-
green glomerules, arranged, like millet, on a long frail spike.
(Fig. 1 8, a.) They exhale, as your nose will inform you, a
peculiar aroma, like that of spiced bread: no other plant
but our Dog Mercury is gifted with this odour. Now, bring
your magnifying-glass to bear upon it ; with the point of a
knife or a feather open one of the grains which form the
glomerules of the spike ; out of it will leap, as if impelled by
an invisible spring, a large number of stamens, easily dis-
tinguished by their elastic thread-like anthers, covered with
tiny yellow beads. Each greenish grain is a flower; the calyx,
which also serves as the corolla, is represented by three little
petals, forming the external envelope of the little flower.
(Fig. 1 8, b.) But something essential is still wanting ; in the
centre of the stamens you do not find any pistil. Why is

FIG. 18.

so important an organ wanting ? Because our little rounded
flowers, with their spice-bread odour, have but one sex, are
unisexual ; they are male flowers, since they are furnished

8o MALE AND FEMALE.

only with stamens. In vain do you hunt on the same stem
for their companions, the female flowers. You will find them
only upon other stems, distinct from those which bear the
male flowers. The Dog Mercury, then, is a plant whose two
sexes are lodged in two different houses, o/W — is, in fact, a
dioecious species.

But you are sure to find the female flowers in the imme-
diate neighbourhood of the stems with the male flowers.
They are easily recognised by their larger and darker leaves
(Fig. 1 8, c)-, and especially by their little twin pods, green,
wrinkled, and pedicellate,* which garnish the axil of the
leaves. (Fig. 18, d.) From this characteristic the female
mercury was formerly mistaken for the male; and many
centuries elapsed before naturalists recognised, what now-a-
days seems so simple, that the little pods, joined in couples,
and containing each a grain, composed the fruit of a single
plant; that every fruit proceeds from an ovary; and that every
ovary is a sign of the feminine sex.

In the Historia Naturalis of Pliny, who was at once so
acute and so credulous an observer, we first meet with the
name of Mercurialis.

"The plant is so denominated," he says,t •'* because it was
discovered by Mercury. Its juice, mingled with that of the
hibiscus (a species of the Malvaceae) and the purslain, forms
a kind of unguent, with which, if you thoroughly rub the

* A flower with a stalk is called pedunculate or pedicellate ; without a
stalk, it is sessile.

t Pliny, "Historia Naturalis," xxv. 1 8.

POPULAR WEEDS 8r

hands, they can touch molten lead without being in-
jured."

The description which Dioscorides* gives of the Linozosis,
which he also calls Parthenion^ or Mercury's Plant ('E^uoD
(Sordviov), applies, in the main, to our Dog Mercury. It is
true that its leaves " are not like those of the basilic " (p/X?>a
o^o/a OX//UP) • but they resemble in all respects those of the
smooth variety of cultivated mint j and, apparently, the basilic
of Dioscorides was one of our mints. The fruit of the female,
he adds, — evidently meaning the male flowers, — are disposed
in clusters.

Both species of the Herb or Dog Mercury belong to the
family Euphorbiacece.

Our attention must now be directed to another point. It
is a fact, that in winters of moderate severity the Mercury con-
tinues to infest our gardens and cultivated fields. It only
succumbs to a frost equal to six to ten degrees below freezing-
point ; then its congealed stem totters, and grows black, and
its leaves mingle so completely with the soil that it is difficult
to discover any vestiges.

How singular a contrast ! The plants most destructive in
our kitchen- gardens are frequently the most useful in medicine.
There are no drugs more popular than the weeds which we
call Herb Mercury, Garden Nightshade, and Dog's-tooth
grass. All belong to families whose properties are strongly
marked. As already stated, the Mercury ranks among the

* Dioscorides, " Materia Medica," iv. 191.

82 A COUSIN-GERMAN.

.Euphorbiacecz, remarkable for their acrid and more or less
purgative juice. In this family occur the most violent
drastics, such as the Croton tiglium, whose oil (expressed
from the seeds) has long been considered an efficacious
medicine. The Garden Nightshade is one of the Solana-
cecz, and cousin-german of the useful potato; and the
Dog's-tooth grass, whose roots compose three-fourths of
our Dossets, is of the same family as our cereals.

THE GARDEN NIGHTSHADE.

If you have seen — and who has not? — the flowers of the
potato-plant, you will immediately recognise the flowers of
the Garden or Black Nightshade. (Fig. 19.) This noxious
herb— noxious in some, but useful in other respects, and,

therefore, not to
be visited with too
hasty a condemna-
tion— flowers and
fructifies through-
out the year. Its
fertility is extreme;
only the severest

winter-frosts can
FIG. 19. FIG. 20.

crush out its pro-
lific life. The fruits which succeed to the flowers are
smaller berries or " apples " than those of the potato. (See
Fig. 20.)

In the history of botany, and even in that of philosophy3

THE BLACK NIGHTSHADE. 83

the Black Nightshade (Solanum nigrum) has a certain in-
terest. Thus, says M. Hoefer, both Cordus and Jean Bauhin,
botanists of the sixteenth century, have described the flower
of this plant as if its corolla were composed of five distinct
petals.

Where were the eyes of those great botanists ? The corolla
of the nightshade, like that of all the Solanacea, is plainly
and obviously monopetalous, — that is, composed of a single
piece; to assure yourself of this, you have a
but to open it out. (See Fig. 21, b.) It j&
was the sharp-pointed, ovate divisions of the 9
limb which imposed on the old observers ; FIG. 21.
a fresh proof that seeing and observing are two very distinct
things. Our vision enters into full exercise from earliest
infancy ; observation is not acquired until after much labour
iind many years.

Do not forget to add, that the five stamens are brought
very closely together by their elongated anthers, as is also
seen in the flower of the potato-plant. (Fig. 21, a.)

The same botanists who took our solanum for a plant
with a polypetalous corolla, considered the Bitter-sweet
(Solatium dulcamara) to be a metamorphosis of the Garden
Nightshade ! The former they christened the red-berried
solanum (Solanum baccis rubris\ and the latter, the black-
berried solanum (Solanum baccis nigris).

But if we once launch into the hypothetical, we shall be
unable to stop half-way. If the species of one and the

84 TOURNEFORTS DESCRIPTION.

same genus are the result of a transformation, why may
we not assert as much of the genera of a family, or the
families of an order ?

Thus we should arrive, step by step, at an unique type,
not only for the vegetable kingdom, but for vegetables and
animals, including man himself, and realise, to some extent,
the ideal of the Greeks, — unity in variety.

Be it acknowledged, however, that we have no desire to
rise to so lofty an elevation. The potato-plant — unknown
to the ancients, inasmuch as it is a native of the New
World — has not been found to lose its character since its
introduction into the ancient continent j its congener, the
nightshade — an old native, like every bad herb — accom-
panies it everywhere ; but its fibrous roots are absolutely
virgin of every farinaceous tubercule.

Though the nightshade is common everywhere, Tournefort
was the first to describe it with complete accuracy. That
great observer even specifies various peculiarities which most
of our botanists omit from their descriptions. Thus, he
rightly remarks, that the peduncles branch out so as to
form a kind of umbel, and do not emerge, as is usually
the case, from the axils of the leaves, but a little below,
from the very branches of the stem. He was also the first
to note — and it was a veritable discovery — that the white
flowers of the nightshade, grouped in threes to eights, are
each formed of a single cup-shaped leaf, — in other words,
that the corolla is monophyllous, and slightly bell-like or
campanulated. Nor does he forget to describe the disposi-

DIFFERENT VARIETIES. 85

tion of the five stamens, set close around the pistil, which,
as it develops, forms a globular bacciform fruit, embraced
by a five-lobed calyx. This fruit, which changes in colour
from green to black, is rilled with a great number of grains
in a thick liquid, exhaling a nauseous odour. As for the
leaves, they resemble those of spinach, for which, in some
countries, they serve as a substitute.

Like all plants found by the wayside, and among heaps
of refuse, the nightshade loves to vary its form, and of its
various forms some nomenclators have made as many dif-
ferent species. The typical variety, the Solatium nigrum,
has glabrous stems and leaves, that is, they are covered
with short, but hardly visible hairs ; its berries are black.

The smooth variety, or Solatium villosum, is rather rare,
and has swollen or bulging leaves and stems; its berries
are red or of a reddish yellow. The two varieties seem
able, by sowing, to be transformed into one another. A
sub-variety of the Solatium mllosum has been described as
a peculiar species, under the name of Solatium miniatum,
so named on account of its vermilion- coloured berries. The
Solatium ochroleiicum and Solatium luteovirens, the first with
yellowish, and the second with greenish berries, are simply
varieties, and the same may be said of the dwarf form,
known by the name of Solatium humile.

But the physician is more interested in the solanum than
either the gardener or botanist. For him it is no useless or
noxious weed, but, on the contrary, is an eminently precious
herb. And, in fact, if it possessed only one-half the virtues

86 A SOVEREIGN REMEDY.

formerly attributed to it, we ought to bow to the ground
every time we encounter it.

Listen to our authorities even if you do not respect them.

Cassalpin asserts that the decoction or juice of the night-
shade is a sovereign remedy for complaints of the stomach
and the bladder, and regards nightshade-water, mixed with
an equal quantity of absinthe-water, as one of the best
sudorifics.

Tragus, a physician and botanist like Caesalpin, recom-
mends the juice of the nightshade as anti-choleraic, as well
as efficacious in inflammation of the liver and stomach.
And yet, at the same time, he grows emphatic in reference
to its poisonous properties. "Do not," he says, "employ
this herb immoderately, lest it should happen to you as,
in 1541, I saw it happen to an inhabitant of Erbach, near
Hohenburg. After having eaten a few nightshade-berries, he
was seized, on the following day, by a furious monomania,
which led his neighbours to believe him possessed of a
devil. After having uselessly employed every kind of
exorcism, they sent for me. I made my patient swallow
some very strong wine; he fell into a profound slumber;
and, when he awoke, was cured." *

Withering affirms that a couple of grains of the dried leaves
will act as a powerful sudorific, and that they have also been
found useful in some cutaneous disorders.

Here is another authority, before whom naturalists are
.accustomed to give way. We make use of the Solarium
* Tragus, " Historia Stirpium" (ed. 1552).

EXPERIMENTS AND THEIR RESULT. 87

nigrum, says Tournefort, * when it is necessary to subdue
inflammation, or soften and relax the fibres. The pounded
herb is applied to haemorrhoids. The juice, with a sixth-
part of rectified spirit-of-wine, is advantageous in cases of
erysipelas, ringworm, wildfire, and all diseases of the skin.
Nightshade is also employed in anodyne cataplasms.

Tournefort did not confine himself to simple botanical de-
scriptions ; he did, what our modern botanists neglect doing,
— he made experiments, both physiological and chemical, on
the plants employed in medicine. Thus, he began by tasting
the different parts of the plant.

" The root," he says, " is almost insipid ; the leaves taste
like a saltish herb ; there is something sharp and vinegary in
the fruit ; the whole plant has a narcotic odour. The leaves
do not redden turnsole, t but the ripe fruit reddens it greatly;
whence we may conjecture that the sal-ammoniac contained
in this plant is moderated in the leaves by a very consider-
able portion of foetid oil and earth, but that the acid por-
tion of the salt is strongly developed in the ripe fruit; so
that we must choose our part of the plant according to the
purposes we wish to employ it for. The fruits, for instance,
are more refreshing, but more repellant, than the leaves, which
soften while resolving, cleansing, and absorbing."

* Tournefort, " Histoire des Plantes" (ed. 1727), i. 74, 75.

t Turnsole, a colouring substance made of coarse linen rags, which,
after being cleaned and bleached, are dipped into a mixture of ammoniacal
matter, and the juice of the Crozophora tinctoria.

83 DOG'S-TOOTH GRASS.

We admit that these data leave much to be desired from
a chemical point of view. We may well ask, for example, how
the illustrious philosopher ascertained the presence of sal-
ammoniac in nightshade ? But it is not fair to criticise the
science of the past, by judging it through the deceitful prism
of the science of to-day. We must adopt the methods of our
predecessors, when discussing natural productions from all the
view-points of their applications.

DOG'S-TOOTH GRASS.

In clearing an uncultivated field we uproot a great number
of herbaceous plants of different families ; but those of the
Graminece, or Grasses, invariably predominate. They are .the
trailing roots, or rhizomes, of certain species which have been
included under the general denomination of Dog's-tooth.
These tenacious and vigorous roots, — so wholesome in various
maladies, so injurious to cultivation, — are, whatever certain
botanists may say, far from tracing their origin in all cases
to the Triticum repens (couch-grass) and Panicum dactylon —
those terrible enemies of the corn-field, which, once estab-
lished in the soil, are with difficulty extirpated, and prove
very injurious to the "golden crops." Nearly every grass
which puts forth rhizomes will furnish the Dogs-tooth. We may
cite, for instance, several species of Festuca (as Festuca rubra
and Festuca pinnatd), or fescue grass ; at least two kinds of
meadow grass (Poa compressa and Poa pratensis), a species of
wild-oats (Avena elatior\ to say nothing of the weeds Arundo
fihragmites and Arundo epigeios. The long rhizomes of these

RHIZOMES VERSUS ROOTS.

89

vivacious plants possess nearly the same properties, due to
their saccharine principles.

FIG. 22. — A Corn-field.

How snail we distinguish these plants from one another ?
Their leaves have almost exactly the same configuration ; they

90 THE PARTS OF THE PLANT.

are linear;* and their flowers are not apparent, — they do not
attract the gaze of the passer-by. Yet they possess all the
organs necessary for the reproduction of their species : — three
stamens, each composed of an anther and a characteristic
filament; on this anther, whose two lobes are arranged like
the branches of an X, the pistil softly and tenderly balances
itself on the summit of a frail thread, to which it is attached
by the back. Remark, too, the two styles with feathery
stigmata, t like the barbs of feathers. Nothing is wanting
to constitute a complete flower.

There is even a perianth, or calyx, represented by a couple
of tiny membraneous scales, scientifically known as glumellulce ;
then at the base of each spikelet, composed of one or two
of these bright green lilliputian flowers, are two other and
larger scales, called glumdlce: they represent an involucre.^
It is almost unnecessary to add, that the free, unilocular
ovary, or seed vessel, forms, as a result of its development,
the seed, whose embryo adheres laterally to a farinaceous
kernel, or perisperm. The union of one or more of these
flowers composes a spikelet, and the union of the spike-
lets constitutes the spike, which may be disposed on a
simple or ramified axis. Such are, in general, the characters
we must keep before us in the difficult study of the Gra-
mineae.

* Leaves are said to be linear, when the veins do not spread out, but
run from the base to the extreme point.

t A stigma is the continuation of the cellular tissue of the style, and has
sometimes projecting cellules of hairs.

£ A whorl, or ring, of bracts (floral leaves) is so called.

THE PAN1CUM DACTYLON.

91

Let us now see, more closely, the two plants which,
according to the botanists, furnish the root of the Dog's-
tooth.

FIG. 23.— A River's Sandy Bank.

When walking along the sandy bank of a river, you must
frequently have trodden under foot a low, almost crawling
herb, remarkable for its violet-red spikes, which, three to

ITS FAVOURITE HABITAT.

five in number, are arranged like the fingers of a hand, on
the summit of a short curving stem.

This glaucous-leaved herb is the Panicum dactylon (i.e.,
fingered-millet) of Linnaeus. The long trailing rhizomes,
joined to some less prominent characters, have been suffi-
cient for some botanists to create a special genus, Cynodon, or
Kynodon (a Greek word, signifying literally " Dog's-tooth "),
and to change the Linnean denomination of our grass into

FIG. 24.— (P. 93.)

Cynodon dactylon. It is seldom met with in cultivated land ;
but in such a locality as we have already described, and
sometimes on open sandy shores, where the summer sea
comes with a gentle ripple and a subdued music, it may
frequently be found. Its long, tough runners creep through
and over the loose soil for many yards, rooting at every
joint, and furnished with flat, rather short leaves, of a
glaucous hue. The flowers grow in narrow, linear spikes,
arranged at the top of a short leafy stem in the form of

THE TRITICUM REPENS. 93

an umbel, and give the grass, when in bloom, a very peculiar
and characteristic aspect.

But if the Cynodon dactylon is rare in cultivated fields,
the Triticum repens — commonly called couch-grass, but, in
our opinion, the true and, genuine dog's-tooth — is particularly
abundant. (See Fig.^2^.') Its long subterranean stems in-
crease with astonishing rapidity, and if the smallest frag-
ment be left in the soil, it will vegetate, and speedily extend
itself, until it becomes almost impossible to extirpate it.
It is a kind of wild barley, with stiff leaves of a moderate
length, and of a bluish tint, and a double spike, composed
of clusters of four to six flowers, each crowned by a narrow
ridge. We must not confound the Triticum repens with the
Elymus caninus of Linnaeus, which has no trailing under-
ground roots like the former. It differs also from the
latter in the roughness of each side of its leaves, — only one
side of the leaf of the Triticum repens being rough, — and in
the crests which rise above the flowers.

Was the dog's-tooth known to the ancients? Undoubt-
edly, for the dog's-tooth flourishes in all climates, — is truly
cosmopolitan. But it is difficult to decide whether their
Agrostis and their Gramen apply to the above-mentioned
species.

According to Diodorus, the primitive Egyptians lived
upon herbs. "They also eat," he says,* "the stems and
roots which grow in the marshes. Especially did they

* Diodorus, i. 43.

94 AUTHORITY OF THE ANCIENTS.

hunt after the Agrcstis, a plant remarkable for its sweet
savour and the sufficient nourishment which it offers to
the wants of man. It is likewise considered an excellent
provision for cattle, from its fattening properties. It is in re-
membrance of these benefits that the inhabitants of Egypt,
when worshipping their gods, carry this plant in their
hand."

The Agrostis of Diodorus would apply to all the Graminacecz
whose stems and roots contain nutritive and saccharine prin-
ciples. Let us here remind the reader that the sugar-cane
belongs to the same family as barley and the dog's-tooth.

Pliny is much more explicit. What he says of the Gramen
(or grass), the " commonest of herbs " — inter herbas vutgatis-
simum — and of the geniculated spaces between its knots
(geniculatis serpit internodiis\ applies with tolerable accuracy
to our Triticum repens. He also speaks of the diuretic pro-
perties of a decoction from its trailing roots.* As for his
Gramen acukatum (or needle-like grass), it is positively our
Cynodon dactylon. "The five spurs or needles which shoot
out," he says, "from the top of the stem, have procured it
the name of Dactylon" To these digitiform spikes he attri-
butes the property of checking the bleeding of the nose, when
they are introduced into the nostrils. But a thorn is much
better fitted to produce this effect ; the spikes of the digitated
panicle of the Cynodon dactylon are much too soft to deter-
mine epistaxis by a mechanical action. So it is not impro-
bable that they owe their putative virtue to their colouring,
* Pliny, " Historia Naturalis," xxiv. 188.

IN MODERN GREECE. 95

which is not unlike that of blood, and which has even pro-
cured for the species the name of Digitaria sanguinalis. In
the same manner the capricious mediaeval imagination pro-
nounced liver-wort, with its marbled leaves, a sovereign
remedy for diseases of the lungs, — organs remarkable for
their marbled appearance.

Dioscorides is quite as explicit as Pliny. What the latter
names Gramen, he, however, calls Agrostis. After having
particularised the nodosities of the stem — a feature common
to nearly all the Graminaceae — he describes very clearly the
long creeping roots put forth by the said stem; and
he does not forget to mention the sugary savour, so char-
acteristic of the rhizomes (§''£«•£ yXyxs/'ag) of the Triticum
repens* Theophrastus confines himself to indicating the
Agrostis as a herb which infests the fields.t

The Cynodon dactylon is, at the present day, very common
in Greece, where it is specially partial to low grounds, which
are somewhat damp and sandy. The inhabitants call it
Agriada, a name derived from «7£/or, "wild." But if we
may believe Fraas, the author of a Flora Classic^ the genuine
dog's-tooth, Triticum repens, is, on the contrary, very rare in
the land of Socrates. This is a curious fact, if a fact, for
geographical botany.

Throughout the Middle Ages, and down to the eighteenth
century, were confounded, under the generic name of Gramina,

* Dioscorides, iv. 30.

t Theophrastus, " Historia Plantarum," i. 10 ; xi. 2, 4.

96 THE AD VENT OF SPRING.

or grasses, the most diversely-featured herbs, including the
dog's-tooth. Tabernsemontanus, Dodonne, Mathiole, Jean
and Gaspard Bauhin, were the first to attempt the clearing
of a path through this intricate wilderness. They eulogised,
at the same time, the emollient properties of the dog's-tooth.

Tournefort* and Bernard de Jussieu, who appear to have
made a chemical analysis of it, pretend that the roots of
the dog's-tooth contain a large quantity of oil, earth, and
several acid liquids, as well as a little fixed salt. " Accord-
ing to all appearance," they add, "the roots act by means
of a salt analogous to salt of coral, enveloped in a great
deal of sulphur."

Instead of mocking us with such fantastic analyses, which
can only excite the laughter of our modern chemists, Tourne-
fort and Bernard de Jussieu would have deserved better of
science if they had applied themselves to the task of intro-
ducing light and order into the cloudy chaos of the Graminacea
of the botanists of their age.

But winter is passing away, and the time for the singing
of birds is at hand. Already the earth is awakening from
her prolonged lethargy ; the hedgerows are green with bud-
ding leaves j the purple crocuses shine in many a sheltered
field ; on bank and brae, in glen and vale, the glory of the
primrose makes glad the heart of man \ the wood anemone
hangs its delicate head in the woodlands; and it seems as
if a gladder feeling animated the universal nature.
* Tournefort, " Histoire des Plantes," ii. 54.

A SPRING MOANING.

97

And the heart and the brain and the soul sympathise in
this apparent delight of material things ; the heart beating
more freely, the brain feeling a stronger working power, and
the soul rising to purer views of life and its duties : —

" Oh, who can speak the joys of spring's young morn,

When wood and pasture open on his view,
When tender green buds blush upon the thorn,
And the first primrose dips its leaves in dew ! "

FIG. 25. — On bank and brae, in glen and vale.

BOOK II.

SPRING-TIME.

Now that the Winter 's gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost
Candies the grass, or calls an icy cream
Upon the silver lake or crystal stream ;
But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth,
And makes it tender ; gives a sacred birth
To the glad swallow ; wakes in hollow tree
The drowsy cuckoo, and the humble bee ;
Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring
In triumph to the world the youthful Spring ;
And valleys, hills, and woods, in rich array,
Welcome the coming of the longed-for May.

— THOMAS CAREW

'Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation.

Even mountains, vales,
And forests, seem impatient to demand
The promised sweetness. Man superior walks
Amid the glad creation, musing praise,
And looking lively gratitude.

— THOMSON.

CHAPTER I.

WHA T MAY BE SEEN IN THE HE A VENS.

" Blue the sky,
Spreads like an ocean hung on high."

— BYRON.

T may be doubted whether many of the patrons
of Mudie's are acquainted with the works of a
philosopher, who, in his day, enjoyed no little
fame — I mean, Robert Boyle (1627-1691), — and yet
there are passages in them well worth attentive perusal,
from the lucidity of their style and the soundness of
their reflections. He has, for instance, some observa-
tions in his " Considerations on the Usefulness of
Experimental Philosophy," which are germane to the
general purport and tone of our little book. He re-
marks, that the contemplation of the vastness, beauty,
and regular motions of the heavenly bodies, the excel-
lent structure of animals and plants, besides a multi-

102 LESSONS FROM NATURE.

tude of other phenomena of nature, and the subserviency of
most of these to man, ought, certainly, to induce him, as a
rational creature, to conclude that this vast, beautiful, orderly,
and, in a word, many ways admirable, system of things, that
we call the world, was framed by an Author supremely power-
ful, wise, and good.

The works of God, he adds, are so worthy of their Author,
that, besides the impresses of His wisdom and goodness that
are left, as it were, upon their surfaces, there are a great many
more curious and excellent tokens and effects of Divine arti-
fice in the hidden and innermost recesses of them ; and these
are not to be discovered by the perfunctory looks of oscitant
and unskilful beholders ; but require, as well as deserve, the
most attentive and prying inspection of inquisitive and well-
instructed considerers. It is not by a slight survey, but by a
diligent and skilful scrutiny of the works of God, that a man
must be, by a rational and affective conviction, engaged to
acknowledge, with the prophet, that the Author of nature is
" wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working."

That He is wonderful in counsel and excellent in working
must be the conclusion of every devout student of the celestial
phenomena ; and to those we shall, therefore, devote the first
portion of our Spring meditations.

What reception would formerly have been given to any
poet who had dared to exclaim —

" The bright face of the heavens contemplate,
And then, as in a mirror, you shall see,
Outlined, the figure of the rounded earth " ?

A CELESTIAL MIRROR. 103

Would he not have been met with the reproach which Horace,
in his Ars Poetica, so epigrammatically formulates ? —

"Pictoribus atque poetis
Quidlibet audendi semper fuit sequa potestas."

An equal licence ever was accorded
To poet as to painter, that he might
The boldest sweeps of fancy still essay 1

As for men of science, they would not have condescended
to honour even with a smile such strange and fantastic words.

Let us suppose, now, that our poetical astronomer, thus
contemned, had addressed his scientific censors in some such
language as the following : —

Do not think, illustrious sirs, that it is by a purely poetical
licence I call the firmament a mirror in which the earth may
be seen reflected. Only, to prevent all equivoque, we must
understand one another. The mirror to which I am alluding
does not reflect light, but movement. It is in a particular
movement of the stars that the true figure of our planet is
reflected, is revealed to us. But before the human mind can
appreciate this movement, — especially before it can discover
the cause, — we must be prepared to devote ourselves to cen-
turies of assiduous effort. In this long interval, philosophers
of every class will allow unrestricted scope to their imagination.

Shall we, then, recall some of these opinions, — some of
these truly poetical licences ?

Homer and Hesiod represented the earth as a disc, or as
a flat rondel, surrounded on all sides by a winding river which
they called the Ocean, and which, in the extreme East, com-

io4 THE EARTH-DISC.

municated with the Phasis, in Colchis. Above this terrestrial
disc the outspread sky was arched like a vast dome ; a dome
supported by two massive pillars, resting on the shoulders of
the god Atlas.

Surely the ancient poets must have evolved the earth-disc
from their own prolific imagination. Can they never have seen
a far-off vessel, showing, as it approached them, at first the
tops of its masts, then its swelling sails, and finally its hull ?
They might have made so simple an observation in any sea-
port ; if they did, why did it not suggest to them the idea
that the earth, instead of being level, must be round ? Be-
cause it is easier to let the imagination speak than the
reason.

The fiction of the earth-disc remained long unshaken, with
the exception of a few modifications. Thales figured to him-
self the earth as floating on a humid element. And, six cen-
turies later, we find Seneca still adopting the opinion of the
Greek philosopher. " This humid element (humor}!'1 he says,
" which sustains the disc of the earth like a ship, may be,
perhaps, the ocean, or a liquid of simpler nature than water."*

But how, then, was the rising or setting of the stars ex-
plained ? The ancients supposed that they were extinguished
at sunset, and rekindled at sunrise. Thus, an unfounded
hypothesis has for its consequence a still more baseless
hypothesis ; and in this manner we glide down the slope of
fiction to fall eventually into an abyss of contradictions.
Such is the true punishment of error.

* Seneca, "Qusestiones Naturales," vi. 6.

OPINIONS OF THE GREEKS. 105

Let us continue. — According to the Chaldeans, who were
thought to be profoundly versed in astronomy, the earth was
hollow, and shaped like an egg-shell. And, — adds Diodorus,
from whom we have this detail, — they adduce numerous and
plausible proofs of this assertion.

Yet was this idea in direct opposition to the evidence of our
senses when we travel over a wide plain, or navigate the great
deep ; at least, unless we admit that the earth has the form of
a reversed egg-shell, with its convex face uppermost, and its
concave one beneath. Heraclitus of Ephesus introduced the
Chaldean doctrine into Greece.

Anaximander represents the earth as a cylinder, whose
upper face alone is inhabited. This cylinder, adds the philo-
sopher, is a third of its diameter in height, and floats freely in
the midst of the celestial vault, because there is no reason
why it should move more to one side than the other. Leucip-
pus, Democritus, Heraclitus, and Anaxagoras, — names of high
repute in the history of philosophy, — adopted Anaximander's
system, though it was neither more nor less than a wild
phantasy.

Anaximenes and Zenophanes, without pronouncing dog-
matically on the form of the earth, represented it as resting, —
the one upon compressed air, the other upon roots which
were prolonged ad infinitum. But upon what was the com-
pressed air supported ? And of what nature were these mys-
terious roots ?

Plato, with a nearer approximation to the probable, gave
to the earth the form of a cube. The cube, bounded by six

io6 THEOR Y OF ARISTOTLE.

square equal surfaces, appeared to him the most perfect
geometrical solid, and consequently the most suitable for the
earth, supposed to be the centre of the universe.

Eudoxes, who, in his long travels in Greece and Egypt,
must have seen new constellations rising in the south, while
others disappeared in the north, never ventured to adduce from
his astronomical observations the sphericity of the earth.

Aristotle, bolder than Eudoxes, was led to the conception
of this sphericity by simple consideration of mechanics. The
earth, he said, must be a sphere, because each particle of matter
is carried, by gravity, towards the centre ; and as this fact is
general, the superficial particles must be at an equal distance
from the centre. This theoretical view was adopted by Archi-
medes, who applied it to the waters covering the terrestrial sur-
face. Aristotle went further ; he saw the rotundity of the earth
in the shadow thrown by the latter on the bright face of the
moon during its eclipses.

It is a noteworthy fact that the arguments of Aristotle,
founded on a method to which all the progress of science is
due, remained unaccepted for two thousand >ears. And why?

We shall attempt to explain.

Among those subjects whose comprehension seems to have
been specially difficult to the mind of man, we must include
the fact that the earth floats without any solid support in the
infinity of space, and carries its denizens on its surface, both
above and below.

Our creeds, which have ever pretended to explain every-
thing in the physical as well as in the moral order, have here

SLO W PROGRESS OF TR UTH. 107

endeavoured to come to the assistance of the weakness of the
human mind. And as each creed asserts itself to be the best,
to the exclusion of every other, men began to imagine for the
earth a navel, and placed it where it was supposed pleasing
to the divinity.

The Greek priests dismissed a couple of eagles, one towards
the west, the other towards the east ; the place where these
favourite birds of Jove, of the " Father of gods and men,"
encountered each other, was to be considered the "navel"
of the earth. It chanced to be Delphos, whose oracle was
the most esteemed in the ancient world ; the sacerdotal caste
accumulated there immense wealth. The Greek priests pru-
dently refrained from dealing with the difficult problem of the
earth's solid support.

The Hebrew pontiffs, however, were not so reserved.
After having made Jerusalem the "navel of the world,"
they allowed for the earth itself seven solid columns as a
foundation. The question of the Antipodes, in which the
greatest intellects of antiquity believed, — Pythagoras, Plato,
and Aristotle, — was thus pontifically judged and condemned.
And Christians who preferred to follow the Judaical observ-
ance of external ceremonies to a true comprehension of the
spirit of the Gospels, exaggerated the application of this
sentence.

The dogmatic condemnation of the existence of the Anti-
podes long arrested man in his search for that fourth quarter

loS A DANGEROUS BELIEF.

of the world whose inhabitants should have their feet directed
towards ours. It was one of the principal obstacles which
Columbus was called upon to surmount in the realisation
of his sublime idea. When cited before the Council of Sala-
manca,— composed of prelates and men of science, — he
had to meet the revived objection of Lactantius, a Chris-
tian apologist of the third century : * — " Can there be any-
thing more absurd than a belief in the existence of Anti-
podes, of inhabitants with their feet opposite to our feet,
of people who walk with their feet in the air, and their
heads on the ground? — that there is a part of the world
where everything is inverted, where trees throw out their
branches from top to bottom, while it rains, and hails, and
snows, from bottom to top ? "

Columbus admirably demonstrated, from an artificial globe,
that flies walked as easily on the lower as on the upper sur-
face, and hence pointed out that men, compared with the
size of the earth, are much smaller still than flies. But his
judges persisted in their conviction, and did not fail to cast in
his face the jesting words of Plutarch : " Philosophers, rather
than renounce a favourite hypothesis, would make human
beings crawl on the lower face of the earth like worms or
lizards." But it was principally the authority of St Augus-
tine which they invoked to condemn a belief in the Anti-
podes. St Augustine had declared such a belief incompatible
with the dogmas of the faith ; for to admit the existence of
inhabitable lands, in the opposite hemisphere, would be to

* Lactantius, " De Falsa Sapientia," iii. 24.

WHAT IS, IS NOT. 109

admit the existence of peoples not descended from Adam,
since it would have been impossible for him to traverse the
ocean lying between Asia and the Antipodes !

Some authorities denied the Antipodes on the ground
taken by certain classic writers, that the regions of the
opposite hemisphere were uninhabitable under the tropics,
on account of the extreme heat, and near the Poles, on
account of the extreme cold. Others cited Epicurus, affirm-
ing that the earth was inhabitable and roofed with a celestial
vault only in our western hemisphere, the other half being
an inaccessible chaos. Others pretended that no traveller
could reach the east by way of the west, because the
earth, being pear-shaped, he would encounter on his road
an insurmountable tuberosity, — undoubtedly the tail or stalk
of the pear ! Finally, there were some who dwelt upon the
magnitude 'of the earth, whose circuit would occupy a voyage
of upwards of three years.

It was to this objection, as the most serious, that Columbus
principally addressed his reply. And he replied by discover-
ing the New World. But had not this daring genius been
supported in his projects by the Spanish sovereigns, Fer-
dinand and Isabella, he would have been handed over to
the Inquisition, and condemned as a heretic. It was then
so dangerous to believe in the Antipodes, that a Bishop
of Salzburg was deposed from his episcopal throne, and
deprived of his ecclesiastical dignity, by the Pope Zacharias,
for having countenanced the heresy.

no THE SPHERICITY OF THE EARTH.

We now know why, for a whole series of centuries, men
would not follow in the footsteps of Aristotle, who was the
first to establish theoretically the sphericity of the earth.

The discovery of the 'New World, and the voyages of
circumnavigation which rapidly succeeded one another,
demonstrated, not only that inhabitants there are whose
feet are opposite to ours, but that the earth does not rest
upon any species of support ; that it floats, like a star, freely
in space.

The ice was broken. The question of the earth's figure
was revived, and, this time, discussed in a new light.

Is the earth perfectly round ?

Copernicus never doubted it ; he who was the first, after
Pythagoras, to represent our planet as revolving round the
sun. The geometrical sphericity of the earth wonderfully
harmonised with the perfect circles in which he supposed
the planets to move. Kepler, who had first laid a sacri-
legious hand on the holy figure of the circle, and on the
circular orbits of the stars, never ventured, however, to
dispute the perfect rotundity of the earth ; it appeared to
him a matter beyond all controversy. Galileo was the first
to hazard a doubt. But this doubt became a certainty only
through the labours of Huygens.

Galileo, who died in the very year that Newton was born
(1642), had discovered, as we know, that all bodies, in
falling, obey an uniformly accelerative force, called gravitation^
and that the space traversed increases as the square of

NE WTON AND HUYGENS. 1 1 1

the time occupied in their descent. Huygens perceived
that gravity varies according to the parallels of latitude,
and it was not long before he demonstrated, by the number
of oscillations which a pendulum of a certain length per-
forms in a certain time, that it diminishes in a regular ratio
as we approach the Equator, where it reaches its minimum,
and that it augments, on the contrary, in due proportion as
we approach the Poles, where it must attain its maximum.
Strong in this knowledge, and knowing, moreover, that the
material molecules, uniformly distributed in the volume of
a sphere, act upon a point of its surface as if they were
all reunited in the centre of that sphere, Huygens deduced
from it the inequality of the equatorial and the polar radius ;
he attempted even to determine how much the former ex-
ceeded the latter. We know, nowadays, that this difference
is 139,670 feet (41,848, 380 — 41,708,710 feet).

Newton admits, with Huygens, that the earth bulges out
at the Equator and is flattened at the Poles ; that, in a
word, it is a spheroid of revolution. He went much farther :
he made the precession of the Equinoxes depend upon this
flattening; but he did not furnish its mathematical demon-
stration. What has been the result? A free skirmishing
ground for all opinions.

While Newton maintained that the form of the earth was
that of a spheroid flattened at the poles, as a necessary
sequence of the great natural law which bears his name,
Jacques Cassini declared himself in favour of an elongated
spheroid. The difference between these two illustrious

112

PATRIOTISM VERSUS SCIENCE.

teachers originated a controversy which lasted for upwards
of fifty years. The Academy of Sciences of Paris pro-
nounced, not unnaturally, in favour of the opinion of their
colleague, though it was far from having the authority of

FIG. 26. — Sir Isaac Newton.

Dominique Cassini, father of Jacques, and, still less, that
of the illustrious President of the Royal Society of London.
But patriotic ardour supplemented the weakness of their
arguments. The flattened spheroid and Newton's law were
rejected by France, because they were an English inven-
tion. Undoubtedly, no one openly acknowledged so paltry

TWO THO US AND YEARS AGO. 113

a reason, but it was certainly true as a sentiment. As every-
body knows, it was Voltaire who first removed the prohibition,
and popularised the Newtonian philosophy in France.

How did our astronomers finally succeed in demonstrat-
ing mathematically the veritable form of our planet ?

To obtain a clear and accurate conception, we are obliged
to transport ourselves back two thousand years. Let us
recall, in the first place, that, owing to the diurnal move-
ment, all the stars progress from east to west ; that they
rise and set, to recommence the same rotation. This is
a general and conspicuous fact, which everybody can con-
firm for himself. But now for another, whose observation
requires a little more time and patience. During the diurnal
movement, which carries on all the stars and the sun him-
self, the latter progresses independently, in the inverse
direction of the celestial vault, as a fly might do upon a
revolving globe. But this second fact is complicated with
a third: While advancing on his own account, from west
to east, the circle which the sun traverses is not parallel
to the Equator; the radiant luminary transports himself
alternatively into the northern and southern hemispheres,
accomplishing this rotation in 365 days and a fraction of a
day, in an oblique plane, which cuts that of the Equator
under an angle of about 23^°.

Let us here take advantage of a parenthesis to explain a
few astronomical technicalities, necessary for the due compre-
hension of our subject.

iT4 SOME TECHNICAL EXPLANATIONS.

It is in the plane, or oblique circle, — 6 xDxXos Xogo's, as
Ptolemaeus called it, — that eclipses occur, owing to the rela-
tive positions of the sun, earth, and moon ; and it is for this
reason modern astronomers have denominated it the Ecliptic.
The Ecliptic is the Equator of the oblique sphere (ffpa/'ga,
JyxsxX/A&yugv?]), properly so called, as the Equator is that of the
sphere of the world, or the right sphere (ffpofioa, oodfy. The
circles parallel to the Ecliptic, which continue to diminish in
diameter up to the poles of the oblique sphere, bear the
name of parallels of latitude ; and we give that of meridians
of longitude or oblique ascensions (avapooai Xoja/) to the great
circles which cut the first rectangularly as they all pass
through the axis and the poles of the Ecliptic. The same
division by circles cutting each other rectangularly has been
made on the right sphere, or sphere of the world. Only,
there the latitudes are named declinations, and the longitudes
right ascensions. The general diurnal movement is a move-
ment in right ascension; it is measured upon the Equator.
The individual annual movement of the sun is a movement
in longitude ; it is measured upon the Ecliptic.

The zone, or belt, which the sun seems to trace in its
annual march, from the limit of its southern excursion (the
winter solstice) to the limit of its boreal excursion (the summer
solstice), and in returning from that limit to the other, after
having twice passed through the equinoctial line (or Equator),
— this zone is marked on the firmament by a belt of con-
stellations known as the Zodiac.

These constellations are named, according to the figurative

CHANGE IN THE HEAVENS. 115

grouping of the stars (on which we have commented in
Book L), — the Ram, the Bull, the Twins, the Crab, the Lion,
the Virgin, the Balance, the Scorpion, the Archer, the Cow,
the Water-bearer, the Fishes. There are twelve, three for
each season. The constellations represented by these figures,
so singularly chosen, spread over the whole celestial vault, —
that is, over an extent of 360°.

To resume.

The heavens, like earth, have their annals : everything
changes there as in the human world. In the age of Hip-
parchus, — or some two thousand years ago, — the sun entered,
at the spring equinox, into the zodiacal sign of Aries ; in
the summer solstice, it entered into that of Cancer; at the
autumnal equinox, into Libra; and at the winter solstice,
into Capricorn. These signs then corresponded exactly to
the constellations which they represent.

Now, whatever Aristotle and his disciples may say, the
firmament is not incorruptible (apdagro;) and immovable ;
even the fixed stars, as we call them, change their place in
time. We have seen that the whole celestial vault or " right
sphere" runs, from east to west, around the poles of the
world; we have seen also that the sun moves, on his own
account, from west to east, around the poles of the oblique
sphere, or the Ecliptic. Well, this does not suffice; there
is a third movement to be observed, — that of the right sphere
itself round the poles of the Ecliptic ; and this, not like that
of the sun, from west to east, but inversely, from east to west.

ri6 PRECESSION OF THE EQUINOXES.

Only, this movement of the starry sphere in longitude, or
parallel to the plane of the Ecliptic, is extremely slow, com-
pared with the movement of the same sphere in right ascen-
sion, or parallel to the Equator of the world. While the former
traverses in twenty-four hours the 360° of the circle, the latter
occupies (in round numbers) 25,000 years.

Who was the first discoverer of the slow movement of the
heavens ? Hipparchus. This great astronomer, on compar-
ing his own observations with the more ancient ones of
Aristillus and Timocharis, succeeded in ascertaining that the
constellation which, 150 years before him, corresponded to
the spring equinox, did not, in his time, any longer coincide
exactly with the same equinoctial point, but had outstripped
or preceded it about 2°. This is what we mean by the pre-
cession of the equinoxes.

Hipparchus was at first of opinion that this movement
affected only the constellations of the Zodiac; but he soon
became assured of its universality. He perceived that if it
does not alter the parallels of latitude; because it has occurred
parallel with the Ecliptic, it makes the position of the equinox
retrograde from east to west, and the sun pass slowly through
the same constellations in the reverse of the order in which
he annually traverses them.

We know this movement now to nearly the fraction of a
second. By an inappreciable daily quantity, it rises, at the
end of the year, to $o".3, — in a century, to about i|°, — •
in twenty centuries, to 30°, or the twelfth part of the Zodiac.
It is for this reason the Ram, which, in the days of Hip-

A MOVEMENT AND ITS CAUSE. 117

parchus, was occupied by the sun in spring, has no longer
any value as a commemorative sign; it gives place nowa-
days to the constellation of the Fishes, and corresponds tc
the constellation of Taurus, or the Bull ; the constellation of
Taurus to Gemini, or the Twins; the constellation of the
Twins to Cancer, and so on. But little more than a month,
then (a month of 2000 years !), of the great year (a year of
25,000 years !) has elapsed since the epoch of Hipparchus. It
is to astronomy especially that, with a slight variation, we may
apply the aphorism of Hippocrates — " Brevis vita, ars longa "
(Life is short, and art long).

The precession of the equinoxes explains why the pole of
our starry vault does not occupy invariably the same point of
the firmament, and why the constellations which we now see
shining during the nights of a given season change their
places as time glides by.

But what is the cause of this movement ?

Before this question, as before a sovereign tribunal, appear
the two opposite doctrines which have been enunciated on
the value of the earth and the sun in the world's system.
According to the doctrine at once the oldest and most in-
tolerant, the earth occupies immovably the centre of the
world ; the sun and the planets are only its satellites ; they,
like the moon, revolve around the earth ; finally, all the starry
sphere, the whole celestial vault, rotates upon its own axis in
four-and-twenty hours. We have been speaking as if this

n8 THE OLD, OLD SYSTEM.

were really and truly the condition of things. If we admit
this doctrine, which bears the name of the Ptolemean system,
— though, in truth, it is probably as old as humanity itself, —
how shall we explain the precession of the equinoxes? We
cannot do otherwise than suppose, that while the celestial
sphere executes its diurnal movement round the poles of the
world, it executes another and much slower movement round
the poles of the Ecliptic.

But this assuredly is a most singular supposition. What !
the same starry sphere revolves at one and the same time
parallel to the plane of the Equator, and parallel to another
plane (the Ecliptic) inclined upon the first ? After having
imagined eight spheres of crystal to explain the movements
of the moon, the sun, the planets (Mercury, Venus, Mars,
Jupiter, Saturn), and the stars, do we require a ninth?
Where will you stop, if you begin to discover additional
movements ? You are condemned to wander from hypothe-
sis to hypothesis, until you fall into an abyss of contradic-
tions !

Such is the language employed by the tribunal of pos-
terity, in addressing itself to the error which would substitute
appearance for reality.

According to the other theory, it is the sun which occupies
the centre of the system, and it is the earth which, accom-
panied by the remainder of the planets, revolves around it.
This theory is likewise of considerable antiquity, though

SYSTEM OF COPERNICUS. 119

generally known as the Copernican system. But four-and-
twenty centuries prior to the epoch of Nicholas Copernicus,
it was taught by the "Samian sage," Pythagoras, and his
disciples. The system then in acceptance, however, imposed
upon them the necessity of silence. Ptolemseus was acquainted
with it, but endeavoured to turn it into ridicule. " There are
people," he says, "who pretend that heaven is immovable,
and that it is earth which revolves on its own axis ; evidently
these individuals are unaware how supremely absurd is their
opinion (navfj* ysXo/o'raroi/)." And it was in the name of
logic and mathematics that Ptolemaeus thus treated the
Pythagoreans !

In the system of Copernicus, — the diurnal movement of
the right sphere, — it is the earth's rotation upon its own
axis which, being prolonged into the heavens, marks there,
by its extremities, what are called the Poles of the world,
just as the Equator of the world is simply the prolongation
of the terrestrial Equator. As for the Equator of the
oblique sphere (the Ecliptic), in which the sun apparently
moves, it is, in reality, the identical plane in which the
earth moves during its annual revolution round the sun.
Now, in this movement of translation, the axis of the
earth does not remain constantly parallel to itself; it
deviates, — very slightly, it is true, — and so as to be scarcely
perceptible to several generations of men. It is then quite
natural that our successors should see, for a long time to
come, the northern pole of the starry sphere near the ex-
tremity of the tail of Ursa Minor. But, two thousand years

1 2 o NUTA T1ON OF THE EAR TH.

hence, this slow deviation will have become very percep-
tible; astronomers will then see the pole of the world in
another constellation, and, as this displacement is con-
tinuous, the prolonged axis of the earth will have traced
on the firmament, in 25,000 to 26,000 years, a circle
parallel to the plane of the Ecliptic, and having for its
centre the pole of that plane. This circle is the base of
a cone whose summit rests upon the earth. (Fig. 27, a.)

But this imaginary defined circle (which appears elliptic
on account of the perspective) is but the mean of a series
of oscillations around the pole of the world, which changes

b its position, as we

have just shown. (Fig.
27, b.) These oscil-
lations originate in
the circumstance that
the axis of the earth
inclines alternately for-
ward and backward,
FIG. c?. in such wise, that a

star, after having approached the Pole, immediately after-
wards recedes from it; they cause the terrestrial globe to
resemble the head of a man who, by an alternation of
gesture, says alternately yes and no. Only, while man (the
puppet !) occupies but a second or two in affirming and
denying the same thing, the earth employs about eighteen
years and a half in inclining once forward to say yes (in
Latin, adnuere\ and once backward to say no (in Latin,

BRADLE Y'S DISCO VER Y. 121

abnuere). This is scientifically denominated the nutation of
the earth.

Who was the fortunate mortal to discover a phenomenon
so singular? Bradley, the English astronomer; the same
who discovered the aberration of light. It was in the
course of his researches to determine the annual parallax
or distance of the stars that, at an interval of nineteen
years, he made, in 1728, the discovery of the aberration of
light, and, in 1747, that of nutation.

The reader may not be displeased to know under what
circumstances he accomplished the latter discovery. While
observing, for several successive years, the circumpolar stars,
and notably the star 7 in Draco, — a constellation situated
between Ursa Major and Ursa Minor (see Fig. 2, p. 9), —
Bradley noticed that this star changed its position by a move-
ment constantly directed towards the north, from 1727 to
1736, or for a period of nine years. When it had reached the
latter limit the star appeared stationary for a moment, and
then retraced its course in a southerly direction. Would it
also occupy a period of nine years to arrive at the limit of
this contrary excursion ? Bradley affirmed that it would, and
communicated his prediction to a French astronomer, Le
Monnier.

How was Bradley led to appear in the new character of a seer?

By two special circumstances — the universality, and the
duration of the phenomenon.

If the star 7 in Draco had been the only one to direct its

122 A REMARKABLE COINCIDENCE.

course towards the north, Bradley would probably have been
led to believe that the Pole exercised upon it a peculiar
attraction ; but he perceived that many other stars rose in
like manner towards the Pole with an uniform and constant
march; it was, therefore, more natural to suppose that the
Pole advanced towards them. And what strengthened the
probability of this hypothesis was, that the stars situated in
the neighbourhood of the course of the solstices exhibited a
corresponding displacement. But there was already recog-
nised as in existence a peculiar movement which explained
the precession of the equinoxes. Was it necessary, therefore,
to suppose a second, a kind of rotatory movement ? Newton
had already thought of it, by imagining a nutation, through
which the Pole might alternately rise and sink on the plane
of the Ecliptic in the space of a year. But the displacement
which occurs in that interval is too slight to be perceptible to
observation. There might, therefore, be a reasonable doubt
of the accuracy of Newton's idea.

Bradley resumed the idea of his illustrious compatriot. He
recognised in the northward movement of the stars the effect
of a similar rotation, but one which took much longer in its
accomplishment. By doubling the interval of nine years, to
the term of which he had seen the movement become sta-
tionary, he obtained a period nearly approaching that which
the moon employs in returning to the same nodes. This
coincidence flashed upon him like a ray of light.

We must here remind the reader, — who, we hope, is not

BRADLE Y'S DA TA EXPLAINED. 1 23

weary of our scientific or semi-scientific disquisition, — that
the lunar nodes, — i.e., the points of the Ecliptic through which
the moon passes when it proceeds from south to north (the
ascending node), and from north to south (the descending
node), — are the analogues of the solar equinoxes ; the equa-
torial points through which the sun passes on its course from
south to north (the spring equinox), and in returning from
north to south (the autumn equinox), — points of intersection
whose retrogradation constitutes, as we have seen, the pre-
cession of the equinoxes. Well, the moon's nodes retrograde
in a similar manner by a movement directed from east to
west ; only it is a much slower movement. While the equi-
noxes are displaced but fifty seconds (50") in a year, the
lunar nodes, during the same period, and in the same direc-
tion, move over a space of 19° 20' 29" ; so that, in less
than nineteen years, they have made the complete circuit
of the heavens, to return to exactly the same point, after tra-
versing 360°.

Thus, then, we have explained the data on which Bradley
rested his prediction. It was confirmed by Le Monnier, who
observed, in fact, that the star y in Draco, and the neighbour-
ing stars, observed by Bradley from 1727 to 1736, moving
from south to north, occupied the same period of time, from
1736 to 1745, in accomplishing an equal excursion in a
contrary direction, from north to south. These observa-
tions enabled him to fix approximatively the quantity of the
nutation.

i24 A WONDER WHICH MIGHT BE.

To sum up; it was recognised that the angle made by
the axis of the terrestrial poles, with the axis of the poles
of the Ecliptic, far from remaining constantly equal to itself
(the amount was 23° 27' 30" in the middle of the present
century), varies by 0^.48 yearly, and that this angle itself
experiences a variation whose mean value is 48" in a century.
It sometimes exceeds this mean value, and sometimes falls
below it, by an amount which rises to nearly 9". 65. Thus,
while describing, in an interval of 25,000 to 26,000 years,
its curve around the poles of the Ecliptic, the earth's axis
describes, from east to west, a small ellipsis in the space of
about eighteen and two-third years, and imperceptibly
changes, moreover, its angle of inclination.

But, in fine, what is the true cause of all these movements ?

Were the earth a perfect sphere, were all its radii of
equal length, the effect of the universal ponderation would
make itself felt as if all the material molecules were concen-
trated at a single point — the centre j and, apart from this
ponderation, which exercises itself in the direct ratio of
the masses, and in the inverse ratio of the square of the
distances, nothing exists which would sway our globe in
one direction rather than in another, — no precession of the
equinoxes would take place, the plane of the Ecliptic would
invariably coincide with the plane of the Equator, and an
eternal spring would smile on the fortunate earth. The
dream of the poet would be realised, and light would
spread

" Through all the seasons of the golden year."

THE COMPLEXITY OF NATURE. 125

But, as observation shows, the contrary has taken place,
since, besides its movements of diurnal rotation and annual
revolution, the earth has its mobile axis, which is indepen-
dently inclined and displaced. Thus, the material molecules
of the planetary surface are not all at an equal distance
from the centre; and, consequently, the earth is not a
perfect sphere. It is, as D'Alembert has demonstrated,
the bulging, equatorial portion which experiences, owing
to the solar attraction, a retrograde movement, carrying
onward the rest of the globe in a general march, called the
precession of the equinoxes.

But this general movement, as we have seen, is, in itself,
simply the mean of a series of oscillations, which D'Alem-
bert has also connected with gravitation. He has shown
that the nutation of the earth's axis results from the moon's
attraction on the bulging portion of our globe. Finally, it
has been mathematically demonstrated that the said bulging
portion of the earth produces, under the continuous action
of the sun, the precession of the equinoxes ; just as this
portion determines, by its continuous action, the nutation
of the lunar axis. As in this universal ponderation all the
wheelwork of the world catches (tons les rouages du monde
s* engrenenf), and the planets, such as Mars and Venus, must
also have their share in the action, however weak it may
be, we have contrived to render an exact account of the
slow changes of the obliquity of the Ecliptic.

Let us resume. Movement and matter, all is ponderated.

Inasmuch as matter is unequally distributed around the

126 INFLUENCE d* COUNTER-INFLUENCE.

earth's centre, being flattened at the Poles and bulging at
the Equator, it follows that the sun's enormous weight
makes it vacillate, so that it describes at its axis a cone
around the poles of the plane of its orbit. Its movement
we see in the heavens in the precession of the equinoxes.
But the terrestrial axis traces it tremblingly, because the
moon, owing to its vicinity, exercises a perturbing action
on our planet, which, in its turn, exercises on the moon a
still more energetic influence.

CHAPTER II.
WHAT MA Y BE SEEN UPON THE EARTH.

" There lives and works
A soul in all things, and that soul is God."

— COWPER.

E have returned, at least in an astronomical
sense, to the budding, happy, radiant spring;
the sun, in its apparent course, crosses the
equinoctial line ; the duration of the day, transiently
equal to that of the night, will augment in propor-
tion as the great luminary describes above our
horizon greater and yet greater arcs of a circle.
Yet this is not the budding, happy, radiant spring
of the poets. No, if it be spring according to the
law of universal gravitation, it is winter still by the
law of life. The forest trees, such as the oak, the
ash, the fir, and the beech, continue to present the
image of death; and the sap which should reani-
mate them has not awakened from its winter sleep.

128

A SUBJECT FOR REFLECTION.

A solemn moment is it when the sap — that life-blood of
the plant — arrested by the icy grasp of winter in its circu-
latory movement — receives a new impulse through the

FIG. 28. — Landscape in Winter.

vivifying action of the central luminary of our system.
What a subject for study and reflection !

It has been very finely dealt with by Longfellow.

How wonderful ! he exclaims, — and we only regard the
wonder with indifference, because it is repeated annually, —
how wonderful is the advent of spring ! — the great annual
miracle, as he calls it, of the blossoming of Aaron's rod,
repeated on myriads and myriads of branches ! — the gentle

A POET'S PICTURE. 129

progression and growth of herbs, flowers, trees, — gentle,
and yet irrepressible, — which no force can stay, no violence
restrain, — like the influence of love, which wins its way,
and cannot be withstood by any human power, because
itself is divine power. True enough it is, that if spring
came but once in a century, or burst forth with the terror
of an earthquake, and not in silence, what wonder and
expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the
miraculous change ! But now the silent succession suggests
nothing but necessity. To most men, only the cessation of
the miracle would be miraculous, and the perpetual exercise
of God's power seems less wonderful than its withdrawal
would be.

May we venture on another quotation ? We take it, gentle
reader, from a living poet, whose works are not so widely
read as their genuine poetical feeling and wealth of language
deserve — I mean Sydney Dobell.

After describing the return of Spring, and her grief and
astonishment at the spectacle of earth, pale, frozen, seem-
ingly dead, he continues, —

"She fell upon.

The corse, and warmed it. The natural earth,
Which was not dead but slept, unclosed her eyes ;
Then Spring, o'erawed at her own miracle,
Fell on her knees.

Meanwhile the attendant birds, — her haste outstript, —
Chasing her voice, crowd round, and fill the air
With jocund loyalty.

With flowers Spring dressed the Earth j
Then did her mother, Earth, rejoice in her ;

I3o SPRING VIVIFIES EARTH.

FIG. 29.—" The attendant birds crowd round, and fill the air.

THE SUN'S PLACE IN CREATION. 131

And she, with filial love and joy, admired,

Weeping and trembling, in the wont of maids.

Meantime her pious fame had filled the skies.

He that begat her, the almighty Sun,

Passing in regal state, did call her ' child,'

And blessed her and her mother where they sat —

Her by the imposition of bright hands,

The Earth with kisses. Then the Spring would go,

Abashed with bliss, — decorous in the face

Of love parental. But the Earth stood up,

And held her there ; and, these encircling, came

All kind of happy shapes that wander space,

Brightening the air. And they two sang like gods

Under the answering heavens."

We think that the ancients, if they had seriously reflected
upon the important part played by the sun in the economy
of nature ; how it is the heart, and spring, and inner power
of every movement and manifestation of life ; how it is, as
Sir David Brewster says, the centre and soul of our world,
the lamp that lights it, the fire that heats it, the magnet
that guides and controls it, the fountain of colour, which
gives its azure to the sky, its verdure to the fields, its rain-
bow-hues to the gay world of flowers, and the purple light
of love to the marble cheek of youth and beauty; — we think
that the ancients, if they had thought upon, or had known,
all this, would not have given the earth a chief place in
our system. And that they did so is all the more strange
when we remember that they attributed to the world a
soul (the "soul of the world" is a favourite idea with the
great philosophers of antiquity), and looked upon the
planets as living creatures.

132 THE LIFE-BLOOD OF VEGETATION.

But they were swayed by that egotistical instinct which
leads man to refer everything to himself, even the very gods
which he has created after his own image. The Bible
teaches us that there is but one God. Alas ! are there not
as many gods as there are men ? Does not each of us
create a deity in accordance with his own inclinations, his
mode of thought, his degree of mental culture, the sphere
of his ideas ? Is the God of a tolerant philosopher identical
with that of a bigoted fanatic ? It is not so much due
to a deceitful appearance, an optical illusion, as to a kind
of innate infatuation, that the human race have come to
consider the planet they inhabit as the centre of the universe.

CAUSES OF THE CIRCULATION OF THE SAP.

Let us return to the sap, the life-blood of vegetation.

How is it that its movement does not recommence at
the same time in all plants? Why are some clothed with
leaves when the others are scarcely budding? Where-
fore, in certain genera, do the flowers appear before the
leaves ?

Some authorities assert, — but facts show it to be a purely
gratuitous supposition, — that the flower, which, with the
fruit, seems to be the goal or object of vegetation, demands
a greater activity on the part of the sap. But, in truth,
many trees and shrubs, such as the poplar, the willow, and
the hazel, flourish at an epoch when the sap is barely aroused
from its protracted lethargy.

ITS ASCENT AND DESCENT. 133

These are questions which have still to be answered.

But upon yet another question we may dwell at some
detail. What is the cause of the circulation of the sap ?

To the best of our knowledge, this important problem
has never been propounded as it should have been. And
for this reason : all observers who have taken up its con-
sideration have had in view only the rising sap, and the
cause of its rising. Evidently this is but a $ari of the
problem. The ascending sap, after undergoing an important
modification in the leaves, becomes the descending sap ; just
as the venous blood is transformed, on coming into contact
with the air in the lungs, into arterial blood. It is this
alternative movement of going and coming which constitutes
the circulation both of the sap and the blood, and which
ceases completely only with the life of the plant or the
animal. We must, therefore, bear in mind, — which has not
been hitherto done, — these two opposite, yet indissolubly
connected, movements, before we can approach with advan-
tage the solution of the proposed question.*

Science consists in discovering, among the different ways
of looking at things which present themselves to the mind,
the one which appears to explain most clearly the phe-
nomena submitted to observation. He who doubts the
accuracy of our remark need only join us in reviewing
the different opinions enunciated up to the present time
on the cause of the rise of the sap.

* The best means of ascertaining the coexistence of an ascending and de-
scending sap have been indicated in " The Circle of the Year," pp. i6v8.

134 LA HIRE'S THEORY.

Grew, an English botanist, a contemporary of Newton,
and his fellow-member in the Royal Society of London,
attributed the rise of the sap to the play of the utricles 01
which the plant is composed. These utricles, he said, main-
tain a close intercommunication ; through their contraction,
the sap passes from the lower to the upper, and thus arrives
almost at the top of the plant. Grew's authority carried con-
viction to the minds of many botanists, particularly to those of
his compatriots. Yet was his opinion altogether imaginary ;
the supposed contraction of the utricles does not exist.

La Hire, a French botanist, who flourished at the begin-
ning of the eighteenth century, — son of the geometrician of
the same name, — pretended that he could account for the
rise of the sap by the play of the little valves with which
the interior of the sap-vessels was furnished; at the same
time he assigned a very active rdle to the fibres of the
roots. The fibres elevate, he said, the whole column of
superimposed liquid, incessantly introducing, by a kind of
suction, new fluids into the organs.

Unfortunately, the "play of the little valves, with which
the interior of the sap-vessels is furnished," is a pure inven-
tion of La Hire's. Instead of growing wise by experiment,
he suffered himself to be led astray by a false analogy.
Valves are found in the veins of man and the mammals ;
but no one has ever seen the sides of the vessels of a
plant garnished with valves to induce a circulation of the
sap.

VARIOUS SUGGESTIONS. 135

Mariotte, so well known by his researches into the com-
pressibility of air, represented the rise of the sap as de-
pendent upon what he called "the attraction taking place
in the narrow tubes" — upon what, in fact, we now term
capillarity. "This first entrance of water into the roots is
in obedience," he said, "to a law of nature; for wherever
very narrow tubes exist which touch the water, it enters
into them, and even rises, contrary to its natural inclina-
tion."

Many botanists adopted the opinion of Mariotte. But if
it were well founded, all capillary bodies, even inorganic
ones, ought to present a circulatory movement analogous
to that of the sap. Now, this is not the case. A body
must be animated, must be living, for attraction to take
place in the narrow tubes, and to produce a movement
comparable to that of the nutritive liquid.

Malpighi attributed the rise of the sap to the alternating
rarefaction and condensation of this liquid by heat ; Perrault,
to a kind of fermentation ; De Saussure, to a peculiar irrita-
bility of the vessels. Of these three hypotheses, the first is
purely physical ; the second, chemical ; the third, vital. So,
as we see, there is something for everybody — chacun d son
gout !

The same question has, in our own day, been taken up
from a new point of view, on the occasion of Dutrochet's

136 DUTROCHET'S THEORY.

discovery of the endosmose. This philosopher was one of
the first to perceive that two liquids, separated from one
another by a membrane, quickly effect or induce a current
which always carries the thinner liquid towards the denser,
and ends by mingling the two completely. " It is endos-
mose," he said, " which produces at one and the same time
the progression of the sap by impulsion, and its progression
by affluxion. The sap would receive its impulse in the
spongioles of the roots ; thence would be carried towards the
upper parts by the turgescence of the organs — by the affluxion,
which would thus act as a forcible mode of suction."

The basis of this theory is, that the sap contained in the
upper parts will be more concentrated or denser than that
in the lower portions of the same plant. But this is a mere
supposition. And even this supposition has been swept
away by the recent experiments of Hartig and others, which
show that the difference in density between the two saps
is not only almost null, but in many ligneous plants the
lower sap is, on the contrary, denser than the upper.*

Finally, and more recently, M. Joseph Boehm has put
forth a theory which offers some points of analogy with
that of Grew. According to Boehm, the rise of the sap
is the effect of a suction, the cause of which must be sought
both in the atmospheric pressure and in the transpiration
which takes place through the organs, and notably through

* See the Botanische Zeitung (" Botanical Gazette ") for the years 1853,
1856, 1859, and 1861.

BOEHM' S THEORY. 137

the leaves of the plant. The part which he attributes to
the cellules, of which the organs are composed, he thus
describes: — "When the superficial cellules of the plant
lose water by transpiration," he says, "of two things, one
will happen : either these cellules will contract and shrivel,
or they carry up, by a kind of aspiration, to the neighbour-
ing cellules, situated in deeper layers, a quantity of water
equivalent to what they had lost. In the normal condition,
the latter is always the result; each cellule takes from its
neighbour what itself has lost, and this action, becoming
more and more general, is continued from the leaves to
the extremities of the roots. The cellules of the spongioles
replace the water which they have yielded, from the humid
medium surrounding them."

In support of this theory,* M. Boehm has made several
experiments, which, we fear, will not carry conviction to
every mind.

In the different theories which we have been attempting
to explain, their authors, as it seems to us, have neglected
an essential element — the life of the plant. Then, the
experiments undertaken by way of proof, have been made
upon cut stems or branches, which, consequently, did not
enjoy their integral vitality. In fact, the results indicated
could just as well have been obtained with inert as with
living matter.

* Boehm, " Sur la Cause de 1' Ascension de la Seve," Memoire commu-
nique a 1' Academic des Sciences de Vienne, juillet 1863.

138 VITAL FORCE OF THE PLANT.

Taking into account all these considerations, we are doubt-
ful whether any value can be placed on the theories just
enunciated. Undoubtedly, physical causes, such as capil-
larity, heat, evaporation, atmospheric pressure, electricity,
have a certain marked and constant action. But this
action is here complex; it is found combined with a new
force, whose effects constitute precisely the profound differ-
ence which exists between the massive mineral framework
of the globe and the transitory beings peopling its surface.
It matters little whether we call it vital force, or otherwise;
sufficient that it exists. We must, therefore, allow for its
influence when endeavouring to explain the varied move-
ments of which plants, as well as animals, may be the seat.

A. — PLANTS.
The Daisy (Bellis perennis).

" Wei by reason men it call maie
The daisie, or els the eye of the dale." *

Among all the treasures of the floral world, that which
should excite in each of us the tenderest emotion, and most
readily stir up in our minds thoughts too deep for tears, is
the Daisy, — that favourite of our innocent and happy child-
hood.

Ah! would we were now as content with simple joys as
in the days when that wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower
was to us a beauty, a prize, and a charm !

* Chaucer.

POETS AND DAISIES.

139

We wonder how many of our poets have done homage
to the sweet and simple " nursling," or rather, whether by any

FIG. 30.—" The Daisie scattered in each mead and down."

true poet it has been neglected. Cowper reminds us that in

" The spring and play-time of the year"
the village-wife and her little ones go forth to
" Prank their hair with daisies."

140 IN HONOREM.

? James Montgomery, whose admiration of nature is some-
what frigid, can yet remind us that —

" The rose has but a summer reign,
The daisy never dies."

Chaucer warms into enthusiasm when he thinks of its
pastoral, innocent gracefulness (" simplex munditiis ") : —

" So glad am I when in the Daisy's presence,
That I am fain to do her reverence ;
For she of all sweet flowers is the flower
With virtue filled, and honourable power ;
For ever fair alike, and fresh of hue,
As well in winter as in summer new."

Let us not omit a reference to quaint but genial William
Browne : —

" The Daisie, scattered on each meade and down,
A golden tuft within a silver crowne :
Fair fall that dainty flower ! and may there be
No shepherd graced that does not honour thee ! "

Yes ! let no poet be taken to your heart of hearts who
has no love for the "flower white and rede," — in French,
called "La Belle Marguerite,"—

" The op'ning go wan, wet wi' dew,"

— Burns's "bonnie gem," — the flower of the meadow and
the lea, of the woodland and the vale.

A modest, unassuming flower, destined to be trodden
under the feet of the thoughtless, it withstands the rigorous
breath of winter, is beautiful throughout the circle of the year
— BelHs perennis, as the Swedish botanist not infelicitously
called it. Its vegetation is arrested only during the harshest

HOW TO READ THE HEART. 141

frosts ; but it resumes its living growth as soon as it becomes
sensible of the first rays of the spring-time sun.

It is at the moment of nature's awakening, about "the
solemn Easter-tide," that this " sweet nursling of the vernal
year " displays all the simple coquettishness of its chaplet of
flowers, — that chaplet which has also procured for it the name
of the tiny " Marguerite," — that is, " little pearl," — a name
which the French have adopted from the Latin — Margarita.

Here let us pause, and propound a question.

How would you propose to test the real character, the
genuine nature, of friend or acquaintance ?

Your answers, dear readers (believe me, I hear them
clearly !), are very various. Some of you say, that the best
means of sounding the depths of the human heart is by
bringing before it a misery which needs to be relieved.
Others recommend the bestowal of a benefit. But such
processes of analysis appear to me far from being infallible ;
too wide a margin is left for the operation of sentiments of
pride or vanity. Why not conduct the man whose real
character you wish to discover into a meadow enamelled
with sparkling daisies ? Thus you would impose upon nature
the task of interrogating him. If he manifest feelings of
indifference, you will do well to regard him with suspicion :
take care how you admit him into your intimacy; for his
heart must be cold, and his mind troubled —

" The man that takes not daisies to his soul
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils."

But to return to our daisy. Observe how, by its organs,

142 A DESCRIPTION OF THE DAISY.

it yields itself — in anticipation, as it were — to its fate. And,
first, its long and fibrous roots anchor it so solidly in the soil
that the cattle which browse it cannot tear it up. Next, its
stem is so short that it seems to be blended with the roots ;
one might almost doubt whether any existed. But, if you
look at it more closely, you may readily assure yourself that
the stem is the point whence issue the recumbent branches
which bear the leaves. Why does not the daisy boast of
stems erect and free? Would they not be incessantly bent
or broken by the merry troops of children who love to play
and dance upon Nature's carpet, the soft green sward ?

The leaves of our daisy, then, seem to issue directly from
the roots, without the intermediary of an apparent stem, which
must not be confounded — recollect this, dear reader! — with
the stalk or peduncle that bears the crown of petals. These
leaves in form resemble tiny crenelated spatules, with the
handles flattened, and the edges trimmed with little hairs
or fibres. The peduncle, too, seems to start immediately from
the roots. The principal part of the peduncle is surmounted,
as already hinted, by the flower, to which we next direct our
inquisitive and searching gaze.

What shall we call it? To what shall we liken it? To
a gilded button framed in a pearl. This button, this " yellow-
eye," as Tabernsemontanus, a botanist of the sixteenth cen-
tury, named it, — the "eye of day" of our old poets, — a
drop of gold in a rim of silver, — is not like any other flower ;
is quite a world or system of Lilliputian blossoms, each of

ANALYSING ITS PARTS. 143

which is represented by a miniature tube, yellow at the sum-
mit, and of a greenish white at the base, — the said tube being
the union, or combination, of the tops or summits forming the
central gem, the gilded button, the drop of gold. You may
readily note this arrangement in the larger variety of daisy,
the Chrysanthemum leucanthum of Linnaeus, — two Latinised
Greek words which signify, literally, "golden-blossomed
white flower."

If you doubt whether each of these tiny tubes be a flower,
you have only to analyse them with the assistance of your
ever-useful lens. The analysis of one will suffice ; for all the
others resemble it. Now, with your penknife, split the tube
throughout its entire length : you will thus lay bare all the
parts which enter into the composition of a veritable flower,
commencing with the most conspicuous. Through the mag-
nifying glass you can see five stamens, — free as regards their
short filaments, but united by their elongated anthers; a
characteristic which gives name to the great family of the
Synantheracece, of which family our daisy is an honoured
member; — a bifid (i.e., cloven in two) style traversing the
middle of the anthers, which form for it a kind of sheath
(see Fig. 31, a); — a monopetalous, tubular, and obscurely
bilabiated (two-lipped) corolla, inserted at the summit of an
unilocular (one-lobed) ovary, which is attached to the calyx
(see Fig. 31, b). In these tiny flowers, then, which we call
in Latin flosculi, in French fleurons, in English florets,
nothing is deficient. As they are shaped like tubes, we call
them, by way of distinction, tuluUfloral.

144

THE LIGULATED FLOWERETS.

But what are these white rays, lightly shaded with pink,
which enclose or encircle the florets? (See Fig. 32, a.)
Examine them at their points of insertion. You will perceive
there some traces of reproductive organs, among which the
style is most prominent. As for the corolla, it is represented
only by its brown lip, which is immeasurably developed. It
is this exaggerated development which constitutes the white
rays, or petals, that prove so attractive to the eye. (See Fig.
32, b.) Do not forget to observe, by the way, that they are
rose-tinted only on the side which directly undergoes the action
of the light. To distinguish them from the tubular florets, —
the tubuliflom, — these " white rays " have been called ligulate
florets, or liguliflor<z.

The complete flowers (or the florets) and the rays (or par-
tially abortive
flowers) form,
in their aggre-
gate, what our
botanists have
agreed to call
an inflorescence
of the capitula.
Disposed quin-
FlG-3'- FlG-3* cuncially on an

ovoid receptacle, or phoranth, both are grouped (Fig. 32, c)
in alternating rows.

To explain thoroughly this species of inflorescence, we will
venture upon an hypothesis. Let us suppose that we could

A BOTANICAL DESCRIPTION. 145

elongate the said ovoid receptacle as if it were a ball of wax,
—it would be changed into a sheath-like inflorescence ; all our
smaller florets, whose union composes what is improperly
called the flower of the daisy, would be ranged around an
elongated, instead of being placed upon a flattened axis.
This axis characterises all the Synantheracese of the family
of the Composites (a sub-order) ; sometimes naked, sometimes
garnished with varied hairs, either shrunken or persistent, it
has furnished several characters useful in the classification of
genera and species. But possessed with a mania for com-
plicating everything, botanists designate it indifferently re-
ceptacle, phoranthe, dinanthe, etc. Why not employ one and
the same word to distinguish one and the same thing ? Why
not have preserved the name axis, and have attached to it
such qualifying terms as might be necessary to indicate simple
differences of forms ?

The ancients looked upon nature, — I cannot sufficiently
insist upon this theme, — with quite other eyes than we do.
The study and description of characters, so indispensable to
our classifications and nomenclatures, appeared to them a
useless labour ; they had not even an idea of its value. But
it was of signal importance to them to investigate the virtues
and properties of plants, so far as they might be rendered avail-
able for the preservation of health and the cure of disease.

Our daisy is common in Greece. Theophrastus, therefore,
ought to have known it, though he does not refer to it. It is

common also in the plains of Italy. Pliny was the first to

K

345 SUPPOSED MEDICAL PROPERTIES

describe it, under the name of bellis; he attributes to it the
properties of the St John's wort.* And it is noteworthy that
the daisy belongs to the same family as the latter ; a circum-
stance certainly not known in the days of Pliny.

The botanists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
are by no means niggards in the eulogiums which they lavish
on the medicinal properties of our graceful Synantheracea.
Bock (better known, perhaps, under the name of Tragus, a
Goat), who mistook the yellow anthers for the seeds, recom-
mended the leaves of the Gdnzeblume (goose-flower, as he
called it) as a laxative. Tabernaemontanus prescribed them
as a remedy for cramps in the stomach and the spitting of
blood.

Ray, who expresses his astonishment that the Greeks had
not spoken of it, looked upon the daisy as an excellent
vulnerary. " Externally," says he, " we employ it with suc-
cess in the form either of a poultice or a fomentation; for
internal treatment, we mix its juice with vulnerary potions." —
These properties procured it the name of Consolida minor,
which would make it the pendant of the larger Consolida,
Symphytum officinale, a species of the Boraginaceae, very com-
mon in damp and shady localities.

Ruel recommended cataplasms of daisies and cowslips for
gout and scrofulous tumours. Chomel affirmed that he
knew by experience that the flowers of the daisy and the
herb robert t (Geranium Robertianum), if dried in a hot

* Pliny, " Historia Naturalis," xxvi. 5.
t See " The Circle of the Year."

OF THE COMMON DAISY. 147

dish, and applied to the head, considerably relieved head-
ache*

Wepfer set great value on a mixture of daisy, cress, and
rummularia in the treatment of pneumonia; and Michaelis
assures us that he had cured dropsies by the use of the flowers
of the daisy cooked as a broth.

Tournefort, who was very partial to this kind of observa-
tions,— now repudiated by our botanists, — says, that the
daisy, taken as a warm drink or a decoction, quickens the
blood when congealed by a very severe attack of cold, as
happens in pneumonia; it removes obstructions, facilitates
the circulation, and gives the fibres an opportunity of re-
covering their elasticity, t

Garidel sums up in the following words the result of his
personal observations : — " I have frequently remarked that the
juice of the daisy acts as a laxative, and even as a purgative ;
the decoction does not have that effect so often as Schroeder
observes, who says that mothers frequently give the leaves
as a gentle aperient to their children. . . . Care should be
taken not to administer this remedy indifferently to all
pleuretics, nor at any season; for if we give it when the
expectoration is easy, we run the risk, by the employment of
a laxative at a wrong time, of spoiling everything, and check-
ing the expectoration. This I have seen occur in several cases,
where the remedy had been administered by a hermit." J

* Chomel, "Histoire des Pkntes Usuelles," ii. 282.

t Tournefort, "Histoire des Plantes," i. 103.

% Garidel, " Histoire des plantes qui naissent aux environs d'Aix," p. 56.

148 A CHANGE OF FASHION.

Can it be true that the commonest plants are the most
useful? Nature is quite capable of affording us these sur-
prises ; nature, who, by her shifting and proteiform move-
ments, never ceases to laugh at human theories. But men,
as was said long ago, have eyes, though not to see ; and
everybody also knows, from his own experience, that he has
ears, not to understand !

However this may be, the daisy, which, as we have seen,
was formerly so extolled for its officinal properties, is now-a-
days completely ignored by physicians. What, then, are we
to conclude ? That all the remedies in vogue — melancholy
to confess ! — are an affair of fashion. When men shall have
resumed perukes, and women abandoned chignons for fur-
belows, we shall remember, perhaps, the virtues of the lowly,
tender daisy.

We cannot take leave of our favourite wild-flower without
repeating Wordsworth's beautiful stanzas. He takes as his
motto a fine passage from Wither, quaint old George
Wither :—

" Her [the Muse's] divine skill taught me this,
That from everything I saw
I could some instruction draw,
And raise pleasure to the height
Through the meanest object's sight.
By the murmur of a spring
Or the least bough's rustelling ;
By a daisy whose leaves spread
Shut when Titan goes to bed ; . • . »
She could more infuse in me
Than all Nature's beauties can
In some other wiser man."

WORDSWORTH AND THE DAISY. 149

On this hint our great meditative poet speaks, and speaks
most tenderly and truly : —

" In youth from rock to rock I went,
From hill to hill, in discontent
Of pleasure high and turbulent,

Most pleased when most uneasy ;
But now my own delights I make, —
My thirst at every rill can slake,
And gladly Nature's love partake

Of thee, sweet daisy ! . . .

" By violets in their secret mews
The flowers the wanton zephyrs choose ;
Proud be the rose, with rains and dews

Her head impearling ;
Thou liv'st with less ambitious aim,
Yet hast not gone without thy fame ;
Thou art, indeed, by many a claim,

The poet's darling.

" If to a rock from rains he fly,
Or, some bright day of April sky,
Imprison'd by hot sunshine lie,

Near the green holly,
And wearily at length should fare ;
He need but look about, and there
Thou art ! a friend at hand, to scare

His melancholy.

" A hundred times, by rock or bower,
Ere thus I have lain couch'd an hour,
Have I derived from thy sweet power

Some apprehension ;
Some steady love ; some brief delight ;
Some memory that had taken flight ;
Some chime of fancy, wrong or right,

Or stray invention. . . .

" Oft do I sit by thee at ease,
And weave a web of similes,

150 WORDSWORTH AND THE DAISY.

Loose types of things through all degrees,

Thoughts of thy raising ;
And many a fond and idle name
I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,

While I am gazing.

"A nun demure, of lowly port,
Or sprightly maiden of Love's court,
In thy simplicity the sport

Of all temptations ;
A queen in crown of rubies dress'd ;
A starveling in a scanty vest ;
Are all, as seem to suit thee best,

Thy appellations.

" A little cyclops, with one eye
Staring to threaten and defy, —
That thought comes next ; and instantly

The freak is over ;
The shape will vanish, and, behold !
A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself, some fairy bold

In fight to cover.

" I see thee glittering from afar,
And there thou art a pretty star ;
Not quite so fair as many are

In heaven above thee !
Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-pois'd in air, thou seem'st to rest :
May peace come never to his breast

Who shall reprove thee ! "

We may add that we know but of four references to the
daisy in Shakspeare. In Cymbeline, act iv., scene 2 : —

" Let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can."

SHAKSPEARE 'AND THE DAISY.

In Love's Labour's Lost, act v., scene 2 : —

" Where daisies pied * and violets blue
Do paint the meadows with delight. "

Again, in Hamlet, act iv., scene 7 : —

" There with fantastic garlands did she come
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples."

FIG. 33.

And, lastly, in Hamlet, act iv., scene 5 : —

" There 's a daisy ; I would give you some violets, but they withered all
when my father died."

In Milton there are but two allusions. In the Masque of

Comus ; —

"By dimpled brook and fountain-brim,
The wood-nymphs, deck'd with daisies trim,
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep."

* " Pied," that is, vari-coloured, motley-coated.

152 THE WILD TULIP.

And in V Allegro : *—

" Meadows trim with daisies pied."

THE TULIP.

" The pied windflowers and the tulip tall."

— SHELLEY.

It is probable that, for the majority of floral amateurs, the
name of the tulip is inseparable from a plant which, with the
hyacinth and the lily, becomes, in the merry spring-time, the
ornament of our gardens. Yet, towards the end of March,
the observer will occasionally discover, in the woods and
groves, the wild tulipjr the Tulipa sylvestris of Linnaeus, which
may, perhaps, be very properly taken for the type of a small
tribe of the Liliaceae. It is easily recognised by its flower,
which resembles a large yellow campanula, slightly green on
the exterior. Like all plants of the same family, it has but
a single floral envelope or perianth, which may be either
a corolla or a calyx as you will. The initiated protest and
asseverate that it is a calyx ; but the profanum vulgus, who
compose the majority, will have it to be a corolla, on account
of its colouring. To cut the knot, and please all parties, our
beautiful floral envelope has been denominated a petaloid
perianth.

The divisions of this perianth, six in number, may, in truth,

* See also Shelley's " Sensitive Plant," &c.

•V This is common enough in Germany and France, especially in the
vineyards, but very rare in England.

WHAT IS IT 1 153

be considered as petals ; they are detached down to the base,
and full in proportion as the pistil is developed. The latter
is composed of three stigmata, attached, without the inter-
mediary of a stylus (sessile stigmata), to a free ovary (that is,
an ovary not joined to the perianth), which, as it develops,
forms a capsule with three angular projections marking so
many lobes ; each of these lobes includes a great number
of compressed seeds. As in all the Liliaceae, and in many
other vegetable families, the stamens, six in number, are
hypogynous, — that is to say, inserted at the base of the
division of the perianth. The stem, nearly two feet in
height, bears a single flower only : the leaves are lanceolate,
like all of the family, and the root is formed of a bulb,
with thin and brownish-coloured external tunica.

Is the wild tulip an original species, or only a degenerate
variety of the cultivated tulip (Tulipa Gesneriana)? The
question is one not very easily solved.

It is generally admitted that the cultivated tulip, — which
everybody knows, — was introduced into Europe from the
East, towards the middle of the sixteenth century. It is,
at all events, certain that none of our older botanists speak
of our wild tulip. Dodonn6e himself refers to the Eastern
tulip only, of which he was the first to give, in his " Historia
Stirpium," a tolerable delineation.

A circumstance which would favour the belief that the
tulip was imported from the East is the Oriental derivation
of its name : tulipa, in Italian tulipano, comes to us, it is
said, from the Turkish tuliband, or the Persian dulbend,

154 WHENCE CAME THE TULIP?

whence is obtained, by corruption, turban, the characteristic
head-gear of the Orientals. Thus, at bottom, tulip and
turban are the same word, only altered in form.

Who does not know with what a glory of colours the
skill of our horticulturists has succeeded in clothing the
tulip ?

Inasmuch as the cultivated species bears the distinctive
addition of Gesneriana, — and of this species all existing tulips
are but varieties, — we might reasonably suppose that Gesner,
the celebrated Swiss naturalist (who died at Zurich, aged sixty-
nine, in 1565), was the first to speak of it. But he makes no
allusion to it in his " Historia Plantarum " (printed at Bale in
1541); he only refers to it in his "Additions" to the works
of Valerius Cordus, published in 1561.

We subjoin a literal translation of the words of Conrad
Gesner : —

"In the year 1559, at the beginning of April, I saw at
Augsburg, in the garden of F. H. Herwart, magistrate of
that town, a plant whose seed had been brought from Con-
stantinople, or, according to some, from Cappadocia. It was
called tulip."

About the same epoch, this plant was cultivated at Vienna,
in the gardens of some wealthy amateurs ; whence several
tulip-bulbs were afterwards sent into England.

This ornamental plant, whose splendour is of such brief
duration, became, towards the middle of the sixteenth cen-
tury, the object of a commercial speculation, which marks an

THE TULIPOMANIA. 155

epoch in horticultural annals. The towns of Amsterdam,
Haarlem, Utrecht, Alkmar, Leyden, and Rotterdam, were the
head-quarters of the new trade.

The years 1634 to 1637 marked its apogee, its culmina-
tion ; it was the reign of the tulipomania, — a malady which,
notwithstanding its severity, does not figure among our
pathological nomenclatures. Bulbs of the variety called
Viceroy were sold for 3000 florins (^£23 5) each ; and
amateurs paid even as high as 5000 florins (^43 o) for the
Semper Augustus variety! Those who had not the need-
ful amount of ready money disposed of their goods, their
cattle, and their furniture. And not only the horticulturists,
but the seamen, and artisans, and servants, plunged head-
long, into this frantic gambling. Tulip bulbs were then as
eagerly sought after as shares in the company of the Missis-
sippi in the days of Law, — or in the South Sea Stocks, also
set afloat by that ingenious financier.

But it was not so much a love of flowers as a lust of
speculation which lay at the bottom of this famous mania.
For example, a gentleman engaged a merchant to deliver,
at the end of six months, a bulb worth 1000 florins. When
the time came, the price of the bulb had either gone up
or down, and the contractor paid only the difference j as
for delivering the wares, neither party cared about it. It
was, therefore, the exact equivalent of a speculation in the
funds or in railway shares. The transactions took place on
the public exchanges, as well as in coffee-houses, inns, and
on the promenades. They originated a fertile crop of abuses,

156 CONCERNING WILD AND CULTIVATED

and to put an end to them the intervention of the Govern-
ment was required.

However, we may cite several examples of distinguished
men who have cherished a partiality for the tulip, in the
better sense of the word. Among these was Justus Lipsius,
the great philologist. In his garden he cultivated with his
own hands, it is said, the rarest varieties, and his floricultural
tastes were shared by two of his intimate friends, Dodone'e
(Diodati) and L'^cluse, the two most illustrious botanists of
their time.

But all these details, however curious and interesting, do
not teach us whether our wild tulip has sprung from the
cultivated germs. As it is impossible to solve this problem
experimentally, we are forced to be satisfied with a simple
conjecture.

And, for our own part, we are strongly of opinion that the
wild and cultivated tulips may, from their very origin, have
co-existed independently of one another. And now to put
forward a fact in support of this statement.

THE HELIOTROPE.

With the Heliotrope every lover of flowers is familiar ; it
is not less prized for its delicate fragrance than the tulip for
its glowing colours. No doubt exists as to the country from
which we have imported the cultivated heliotrope, nor as to
the epoch when it was introduced : it came from Peru, whence
the name given to it by Linnaeus, Heliotr opium Peruvianium ;
and was brought into Europe, in 1740, by Joseph de Jussieu.

ABOUT THE ANEMONES. 157

Although not known in Europe above a hundred and thirty
years, it is now an "old, familiar face" in every garden.
Now, by the side of the cultivated species, a native of the
New World, we can place a wild variety, indigenous to the
Old World, common in our own country, and, indeed, in all
the countries of temperate Europe ; whence it has received
the appellation of Heliotropium Europczum.

The European species, let me state, is in every respect
similar to the Peruvian species, except that its flowers are
inodorous and of a paler blue. Yet it was known before the
discovery of America, — before the discovery of those regions
from which we have obtained the cultivated heliotrope.
Thus, the two varieties have existed contemporaneously, and
have flourished independently of each other, from their very
origin. Why should not such be the case with the wild and
cultivated tulip ?

THE ANEMONES.

From our Spring posy the delicate Anemones must not be
omitted. More than twenty species are cultivated in Great
Britain, and I hardly know to which I would give the pre-
ference. They are called by that most unmeaning term,
"florist's flowers," and from the attention bestowed upon
them, the cultivated varieties have been greatly improved.
But you and I, dear reader, will go forth into the "wild
woods," and enjoy the rich gifts of nature untampered by
horticultural science. It is towards the end of March that
the wood anemone (Anemone nemorosa) begins to expand

158 WHAT'S IN A NAME.

its graceful leaves and snow-white buds to the stray sunbeams
that force their way through the embowering branches of
stately elms and spreading beeches, and in April it has
attained its full glory, contributing largely to the beauty
and the show which then embellish the forest glade. Snow-
white, and faint rose-red, and soft delicate lilac, — these are
the prevailing hues of its tender petals.

It is said that the wood anemone never blossoms earlier
than March 16, and never later than April 2. It opens out
its loveliness to the sun about the same time as the swallow
returns from the genial South to our land of pleasant verdure.
Country children associate it with the appearance of the
cuckoo, and call it the " cuckoo flower," but the " wander-
ing voice " is later than the woodland blossom in its welcome
to the spring.

Why is it called Anemone ? Of course, the English name
is derived from the Greek avspog, "wind;" but what con-
nexion is there between the wind and the flower ? Credulous
old Pliny asserted that it never bloomed except when* the
wind blew. Some of our botanical writers explain that it
shivers and bends before the winds of March and the breezes
of April. Others remind us that though generally found in
the shelter of the groves, it will thrive lustily in windy and
exposed localities. But I suspect the true reason of the
name is its peculiar sensitiveness to atmospheric changes.
As a foreteller of the storm it is not less trustworthy than a
barometer, never failing to fold up its exquisite petals when
the winds are gathering over the distant hills.

AN IMPORTANT FAMJL Y. 159

Our plant is considered injurious food for cattle ; and it
was on account of its unwholesome properties, perhaps, that
the Egyptians regarded it as an emblem of sickness ; or
the idea may have been suggested by its frail and feeble
appearance.

The yellow wood anemone is a rare and beautiful variety,
which I have sometimes met with among the chalky downs
of Kent. Its botanical designation is Anemone ranunculoides.

A still richer species is the Anemone pulsatilla, or Pasque
Flower Anemone j a silky downy plant, easily recognised by its
blossom of glowing purple. The blue mountain anemone
(Anemone Apennind) is only to be found, as its name indi-
cates, on the bold rugged sides of lofty mountain-heights.

The Anemones belong to a very important order, — the
Ranunculacea, or Crowfoot family, — which is divided into
five sub-orders : i. Clematidae ; 2. Anemonese ; 3. Ranuncula-
ceae; 4. Helliboreae; and 5. Actoeae, or Poeonise. [Linnaeus
distinguishes forty-one known genera, comprising a thousand
species. There are nine British genera of Anemoneae.

In Drayton's " Poly-Olbion " occurs a rich descriptive
passage, — an exquisite "flower-piece," — which, on account
of its beauty, deserves to be better known, and more fre-
quently quoted. The poet is enlarging upon the floral rites
which were celebrated at the espousals of the rivers Thame
and Isis, and sets before us a bright bevy of Nymphs and
Naiads ; engaged in twining " dainty chaplets " to deck the
persons of the bride and bridegroom. The stalwart Thame7
— so it seems to them, — should not be " dressed with flowers

160 A SPRING-TIME POSY.

to gardens that belong," but with blossoms plucked from his;
own meads and pastures. As most of those selected are fit
for a spring-time nosegay, we may well enrich our pages with
quaint old Drayton's enumeration of them : —

" The Primrose placing first, because that in the Spring
It is the first appears ; then only flourishing ;
The azured Harebell next with them they neatly mixt,
T' allay whose luscious smell they Woodbine placed betwixt.
Among those things of scent there prick they in the Lily,
And near to that again her sister Daffodilly.
To sort these flowers of show with others that were sweet,
The Cowslip there they couch, and the Oxlip for her meet ;
The Columbine amongst them they sparingly do set,
The yellow King-cup, wrought in many a curious fret ; *
And now and then among, of Eglantine a spray,
By which again a course of Lady-mocks they lay ;
The Crow-flower, and thereby the Clorra-flower they stick,
The Daisy ov.2r all those sundry sweets so thick,
As Nature doth herself to imitate her right ;
Who seems in that her ' pearl ' so greatly to delight,
That every plain therewith she powdereth to behold.
The crimson Darnel-flower, the Blue-bottle and gold,
Which, though esteemed but weeds, yet, for their dainty hues,
And for their scent, not ill, they for their purpose choose.
Thus, having told you how the Bridegroom Thames was drest,
I '11 show you how the Bride, fair Isis, they invest."

Here the poet resorts to the garden for his decorative
wreath, but is careful, as we shall see, to eschew "florist's
flowers," and to select only our dear old favourites : —

" The red, the dainty white, the gaudy Damask Rose,
The brave Carnation, then, of sweet and sovereign power
(So of his colour called, although a July flower),

* So we say, " fretted roof."

ABOUT THE ARUM. 161

With the other of his kind, the speckled and the pale ;

Then the odoriferous Pink that sends forth such a gale

Of sweetness, yet in scents as various as in sorts ;

The purple Violet then the Pansy there supports ;

The Marigold above t' adorn the arched bar ;

The double Daisy, Thrift, the Button-Bachelor ;

Sweet William, Sops in Wine, the Campion, and to these

Some Lavender they put, and Rosemary, and Bays ;

Sweet Marjoram with her like, sweet Basil rare for smell,

With many a flower whose name were now too long to tell."

If our space permitted, we should like to gossip awhile about
each of the flowers commemorated by our old poet, for to
each attaches some legend, or romantic tradition, some rural
observance, or sweet poetical association. But we must con-
tinue our researches, and they bring us now to the Arum.

THE ARUM.

To the French the Arum is commonly known as the Calf's
foot (Pied de veau). It is a common enough plant, growing
on the borders of the wood, and delighting especially in the
shade of the hazel trees, but it bears not the slightest re-
semblance to the hoof of any quadruped whatsoever, unless,
indeed, to a very fervid imagination there should be visible a
shadowy similitude in its leaf.

And it is, in truth, asserted — but, not having the eye of faith,
the editor cannot see any ground for the assertion — that its
sagillate or arrow-headed leaves, marked by a strongly-defined
mid-rib, bear a certain likeness to the "under bi-ungulated
face " of the foot of a young ruminant. Appearing in the early
days of spring, they contrast agreeably, by their shining verdure,

162 A BOTANICAL ANALYSIS.

with the colour of the dead leaves heaped up at the base of
the hedgerows. Simultaneously with its leaves comes forth
a curious organ, — rare in vegetables of temperate regions,
common in the tropical palms, and characteristic of the family
of the Aroidaceae, to which our Arum belongs. This organ,
rolled up in a coil or spiral, is named the spathe. It protects
the flowers in their young state, and, as they are developed,
gradually falls off. Its colour is a greenish yellow ; at the
summit it is sometimes streaked with purplish veins, and at
the base it swells out in a globose fashion.

A small thermometer, introduced into the interior of the
rolled-up spathe, indicates a rise of temperature equal to
one or two degrees above that of the external atmosphere.
Whence comes this difference? Because in the spathe is
frequently found imprisoned another organ, the seat of the
mystery of reproduction. This organ is a fleshy axis, on
which are arranged the flowers in two distinct rings; the
upper is occupied by the stamens, reduced to simple anthers
(sessile stamens) ; observe the filamentous appendages — they
are abortive ovaries. These same appendages also surmount
the lower ring, where several rows are set of sessile ovaries;
each ovary composed of a single lobe, containing a very small
number of ovules, the majority of which miscarry as the
ovaries become metamorphosed into bright red berries : these
are the fruits which appear in autumn ; they form a spike or
ear of coral, each containing, ordinarily, a single seed. The
flowers, as a consequence of this separation of the two sexes,
are monoecious; the succulent axis which bears them is called

FOOD IN THE FOREST. 163

a spadix.* On tearing open the spathe, our glance first rests
upon the apex of the spadix, which has a club-like form, and
is of a beautiful violet-red colour. The two rings of sexual
organs have much less attraction for the profane ; the lower
ring, loaded with female flowers, is more prominent than the
upper ring, which bears the male flowers.

The root of our Arum also deserves a particular examina-
tion. It is a white tubercular stock or stem, containing a
quantity of fecula, mixed, as in the West Indian manioc, with
an acrid poisonous principle which produces a burning pain-
ful heat in the throat. This injurious principle is destroyed
by exposure to the fire, and by repeatedly boiling the plant
in water. After being thus heated, there remains only the
fecula, in the form of a white powder, which, in times of
scarcity, supplies a very nutritious food. " I made use of it,"
says Bosc, " during the storms of the Revolution, when I had
taken refuge in the solitudes of the forest of Montmorency.
This plant is so abundant in this forest, and in many other
localities, that, at the epoch I speak of, it would have ensured
the subsistence of several thousands of men, if they had known
its alimentary properties. I was seriously counting on the
resources which it would place at my disposal, when the
death of Robespierre relieved me from my difficulties." f

* When the spike bears numerous flowers, surrounded by a spathe, or
sheathing bract, it is called a spadix.

t Bosc, a distinguished naturalist, died in 1828, aged 69. In the
ministry of Roland, he accepted the delicate post of administrator of
prisons; was proscribed after the terrible events of May 31, 1793; and
lay concealed, along with Lareveilliere-Lepaux, for several weeks in the
forest of Montmorency.

164

THE ARUM ARISARUM.

Our arum, which we have taken as a type of the family of
the Aroidaceae, is called maculatum, or " spotted," in allusion
to the white and violet spots with which its leaves are be-
sprinkled.

Another, and not less interesting species, is the Arum art-
sarum. (See Fig. 34, a.) It loves' to display its exquisite

leafage on the rocks border-
b ing the "sea-marge," and is
found in profusion along
almost the entire littoral of
the Mediterranean. It is a
precocious flower — making
its appearance about the end
of December, and flourishing
until the beginning of Spring.
The spathe, which in the
Arum maculatum has all the aspect of an etiolated leaf,
assumes, in the Arum arisarum, the tints of a corolla, — is of
a beautiful warm red violet, streaked with white. The fleshy
axis, which ought rather to be called gynandrous (both male
and female) than a spadix, is of a red colour ; naked in its
upper portion, which terminates with a kind of apple. It
would remind a drummer-boy of the formidable staff carried
by his drum-major (see Fig. 34, b.) ; the stamens, reduced to
the condition of bilobed anthers, are mounted around the
central part; and the ovaries, less numerous than the stamens,
occupy the base of the axis. Each monocular ovary is
crowned by a sessile stigma, and each lobe contains a great

FIG. 34. — The Arum arisarum.

SUBSTITUTE FOR THE POTA70E. 165

number of erect ovules. In the Arum maculatum, the number
of ovules does not exceed six. Some botanists have laid hold
of this characteristic as an excuse for withdrawing the Medi-
terranean species from the arums, and creating a new genus,
arisarum. The variety we have just described is, in that case,
denominated the Arisarum vulgare.

The ancients have mentioned numerous species of the arum.
But it is a very difficult task to bring their nomenclature into
any kind of agreement with the species described by modern
botanists. However, we may, I think, regard the arisarum
of Pliny and Dioscorides as positively identical with our Arum
arisarum. But we are' unable to admit that the aron, the
hepha, the dracunculus, the dracontium, can be, as commen-
tators represent, one and the same plant; still less can we
admit that this plant is our Arum maculatum, which is very
much rarer in the south than in the north and centre of
Europe. In the solution of such problems as these, geogra-
phical botany is an element which must not be neglected.
Unfortunately it has never been taken into account by the
commentators on the great classical authorities.

Let me advance a simple proposition. Since the potatoe
has become diseased, and the species tends to degenerate,
may we not find a substitute for it, — at least, a partial one,—
among our Aroids, and, notably, in the Arum maculatum ?

THE RANUNCULACE^E.
Let us return for a while to the order of Ranunculacese, of

166 THE LESSER CELANDINE.

which the Anemones have already furnished us with a speci-
men. Several very poisonous plants are members of this
order; and, in truth, very few can be pronounced wholly
innocent. I do not think there is much harm in the Lesser
Celandine, however — the glossy, starry flower, yellow as a but-
tercup, with heart-shaped leaves, which Wordsworth has cele-
brated : —

" Ere a leaf is on the bush,
In the time before the thrush
Has a thought about its nest,
Thou wilt come with half a call,
Spreading out thy glossy breast,
Like a careless prodigal ;
Telling tales about the sun,
When we 've little warmth or none."

There cannot be much harm in it, for in the north of Europe
the peasantry boil its leaves, and eat them as greens. It
thrives in all parts of England, in green woods and meadows,
and on wild furzy wastes and open commons; under leafy
hedges, and even in the gay pastures, among the primroses and
hepaticas. A number of small, grain-like tubers lie around
it, close to the surface of the earth ; whence it was a common
saying in "the days of old" that this plant showered down
wheat in its vicinity.

To the same order belongs the Buttercup (Ranunculus bul-
bosus), whose bulbous root procured for it from our forefathers
the name of " St Anthony's turnip."

If the good saint ever partook of buttercup-corms, we do

ARE BUTTERCUPS POISONOUS? 167

not envy him his sensations j when boiled, they disorder the
stomach, and if eaten raw, act as an emetic.

It was formerly thought, says a pleasing writer, that crow-
foot (the buttercup is a species of crowfoot), mingled with the
pasture, improved its nature, and that the butter yielded by
cows which fed upon this mixture was of a superior quality.
Nous avons change tout cela ; we are wiser now ; and have dis-
covered that cows carefully avoid eating buttercups, and that
several kinds of crowfoot are even poisonous to cattle. On
some pasture-lands, in those countries where the produce of
the dairy receives particular attention, women and children
are employed to destroy the crowfoot, which they do either
by pulling up the root, or by plucking off the flower, and pre-
venting it from dispersing its seed. The root of the buttercup
is of a highly stimulating property if taken in an uncooked
state, and its juice will occasion sneezing; but boiling deprives
this, as well as many other vegetable productions, of its in-
jurious properties. A similar effect is produced by drying it
in the sun ; wherefore the hay crop is not at all deteriorated
by its acrid nature.

A very beautiful ornament of still pools and gently-flowing
streams is the Water-ranunculus (Ranunculus aqua atilis\ whose
leaves vary according to the depth, or calmness, or swiftness
of their watery habitat, and are thus adapted to permit the
passage of water without suffering any injury from its force.
The leaves on the surface have a round lobed shape ; those
immersed hang down in thin small fibres, which offer but little
resistance to the current.

1 68 THE TRAVELLER'S JOY.

The RANUNCULACE^E also include the Black Hellebore, or
Christmas rose (Helleborns niger\ one of our most splendid
winter-garden decorations, whose juice the ancients considered
a wonderful remedy for mental disorders. In whiteness it
rivals the snow, which often accumulates around it, and the
snow-drop, which is frequently bound up in the same wreath.
It is called the Black Hellebore, to distinguish it from the
two wild species which grow in our woods, its root being
covered with a thick black skin.

The fragrant white Clematis must not be omitted j its starry
drops are " things of beauty," which every true poetic eye will
know how to appreciate. It is sometimes called " Traveller's
Joy," and sometimes " Virgin's Bower j " either name is richly
suggestive of pleasant fancies. Do you remember the beauti-
ful picture in Keats's " Endymion," of the shady sacred retreat

where Adonis lay and slumbered ? The clematis was one of

«

the precious flowers that adorned it : —

" Above his head

Four lily stalks did their white honours wed,
To make a coronal, and round him grew
All tendrils green, of every bloom and hue,
Together intertwined and trammelled fresh ;
The vine of glossy sprout, — the ivy mesh,
Shading its Ethiop berries, — and woodbine,
,Of velvet leaves and bugle blooms divine ; —
Convolvulus in streaked vases blush,
The creeper mellowing for an autumn flush, —
And Virgin's Bower trailing airily,
With others of the sisterhood."

Finally, our order comprises the Hepatica, with its blue or

A LIVEL Y ANIMAL. 169

pink blossoms and three-lobed leaves, which, from their
fancied resemblance to the form of the liver, procured the
plant its English name of liverwort; the Flos Adonis, or
pheasant's eye, — the goutte-de-sang of the French, — so called
because the ancients fabled that it sprang from the blood
of Adonis, when wounded by the bear; the marsh mari-
gold ; the gay and vivacious larkspur ; the deadly wolfs-
bane, or aconite, which secretes so potent a poison ; and
the aromatic love-in-a-mist, or French flower.*

B. — ANIMALS.

Under the soft moss, under the stones, in all localities where
mouldiness is easily developed, under the closed doors of
cellars, you must certainly have more than once observed
a tiny creature of the form of a horse-bean, of a gray leaden
colour, and supplied with a considerable number of feet. This
last characteristic will induce you immediately to abandon the
idea that you have before you an insect.

Catch hold of it, and count its feet.

Well said ; but it runs much more quickly than I would have
suspected from its previously dilatory movements.

Because it knows that danger threatens it, instinct impels
it to escape at its utmost speed. Do not be afraid to handle
it ; the poor creature can do you no harm.

* The seeds of the latter are used in the East, where they are more
pungent than in our cold climates, instead of pepper. " They are thought
to be the cummin alluded to in Scripture, where our Saviour reproved
the Pharisees for their singularity in minor things, and their neglect of
important duties."

170 A CRUSTACEAN CURIOSITY.

Unable to escape, it counterfeits death, and remains per-
fectly immovable.

Now examine it. It has fourteen feet, symmetrically arranged
in couples ; their size perceptibly increases from the first to the
last. When the animal is at rest, they are coiled inside, so as
to form an angle whose opening faces the medial line. But
here is something much more curious ; its body, which does
not possess the vestige of a wing, is also without those seg-
ments which would divide it visibly, as in the case of insects,
into head, thorax, and abdomen ; but is composed of rings,
hard and scaly, like those of a shrimp.

Can it be a crustacean ?

Yes ; the animal you hold in your hand, and which every-
body knew by the name of wood-louse long before our
naturalists knew how to classify it, belongs to the great animal
division of the Articulata, which, instead of having their
skeleton inside the body, like the Vertebrates, have it ex-
ternally. The Crustacea form a class of this division, to which
also belong the Insects, the Arachnida, and the Myriapoda.

Let us continue to anatomise our crustacean.

In front of its first ring (a transversal segment) you see a
little black head, with two lateral bead-like eyes, and a couple
of antennae. The latter are each composed of three joints,
which are extremely mobile; their base is covered by the
edges of the sloping head. The most conspicuous rings of
the body are seven in number; their lateral borders are
pointed in front, and rounded behind. But, if you look
closely, you will see some other rings, a little less projecting

THE COMMON WOOD-LOUSE. 171

than the former ; they circumscribe the abdominal region, the
belly, properly so called, in which the intestines are lodged.
These rings, or abdominal segments, are six in number ; but
they have not all the same form. The one which occupies the
tail is triangular, pointed, and surrounded by four (caudal)
appendages. The three next segments, counting from the
front to the rear, are prolonged laterally in a very marked
manner ; the two anterior, on the contrary, have no such dis-
tinction. As for the caudal appendages, the
two outer ones are very strong, conical, and
composed of two articulations, while the
inner, situated above the former, are frail,
cylindrical, and terminated by a tuft of hairs,
whence issues a viscous liquid. (See Fig. FIG. 35.

\ The Wood- Louse.

An enumeration of these characteristics is tedious, but
necessary for the determination of the genus and the species.
They belong to the Oniscus asellus, or common wood-louse.
But why, you ask, why such a strange conjunction of names,
— one Greek, oi</<rxo£, the other Latin, asellus ? Both carry the
same meaning : why not, then, have called our tiny crusta-
cean an ass-ass (if such a compound be possible)? Why,
neither close at hand nor at a distance, has it the slightest
resemblance to an ass • and to say that we have only borrowed
these names from the ancients, is neither an explanation nor
a justification.

But we have not yet done with the wood-lice. Are these
interesting little creatures (they are interesting, are they not ?)

172 A WONDERFUL ARRANGEMENT.

oviparous or viviparous ? I defy you to show me anywhere a
single wood-louse's egg. Have the patience to observe our
crustaceans more nearly. Among the crowd, you will remark
some — they are the females — with a kind of membraneous
pouch underneath the body, stretching from the head to the
fifth pair of legs. The pellicle which forms this pouch is so
thin, and so transparent, that you can distinguish the eggs
within it. These eggs, instead of being expelled for incuba-
tion, remain in the mother's pouch until they are hatched. At
that felicitous moment, the membranous bag splits cross-wise,
longitudinally and trans versally, to permit the emergence of
the young wood-lice. The latter are extremely small, and in
form resemble nothing in the world so much as a little white
line (Fig. 35, b). They differ from their parents only in having
one pair of feet, and one ring less than they have. They
undergo no metamorphoses. After their birth, the little ones,
which have proportionally very large antennae, do not imme-
diately separate from their mother. By a wonderful act of fore-
thought on the part of Nature,* they keep themselves con-
cealed in the middle of the respiratory lamina, which garnish
the under part of the tail

The specific characters of the Oniscus asellus are tolerably
well defined. By its rings of dark gray, a little lighter at the
edges, which form for it an articulated, glossy carapace, marked
with white spots, longitudinally arranged ; by the uniform pale
gray colour of its belly and its legs, covered with scattered

* That is, the Creative Power which, in common parlance, we choose to
call Nature.

SPECIES, AND SPECIES. 173

hairs ; and, particularly, by its habits, our wood-louse, which
the Germans call cellar-louse (Kellerlaus), is distinguished from
its kindred species, of which naturalists have made distinct
genera. Thus, the asellus found generally under stones, which
counterfeits death by rolling itself up in a ball like a hedgehog,
and will rather suffer itself to be crushed than unfold, is the
Oniscus armadillo, which some naturalists transform into the
Armadillo vulgdris. (See Fig. 36.) This species prefers the
solitude of the field to inhabited places. Its body is con-
siderably expanded, and its rings do not terminate in a point
on their lateral and posterior edges.

Another species, equally common underneath stones, has
its head and tail covered over with granulations ; its
antennas are composed of seven joints, of which the
fourth and fifth are perceptibly situated lengthwise. FIG. 36.

. . . Oniscus

This is the Oniscus granulatus of some entomologists ; armadillo.
others have designated it the Porcellio scaber. Why not sim-
plify the study of species ?

The wood-lice seem to live upon decomposed vegetable
matter. But in default of other food, they devour their own
kind ; in this respect resembling beings who are supposed to
rank much higher in the animal hierarchy.

In the pharmacopoeia of the ancients our wood-lice found a
place. Reduced into powder, and mixed with various sub-
stances, they were prescribed as diuretic and aperient; but
they were long ago abandoned in medicine.

174 THE DRAGON-FLIES.

THE DRAGON-FLIES (Libellulce).

In walking along the banks of a river, you must frequently
have seen hovering around you a cloud of insects, whom you
would readily take to be butterflies, were not you arrested in
your conjecture by the largeness of their head, the length of
their body, the form of their vivid, diaphanous, gauze-like
wings, and, generally, — which will most astonish you, — by their
carnivorous instincts. You have about you and before, then,
not butterflies, but Dragon-flies — the Libelhdce of naturalists.
They are the demoiselles, or " ladies," of the French ; so called,
perhaps, in allusion to their airy and graceful flight.

Among these Libellulse, one is called Eleanora. If she does
not shine so brightly as the others — if her colours are less
brilliant — she has, at least, the advantage of being so common
that you can easily obtain a specimen.

But, first, let us pause to think of the strange dissimilarity
in the names bestowed on the Libellula by the English and
French respectively. They are the Dragon-flies of the former,
— fierce, rapacious, formidable; the Ladies of the latter, —
elegant, light, and radiant. Here we have a glimpse of
national character. With the Frenchman, "appearance"
counts for so much; with the Englishman, everything de-
pends upon the " reality." Yet our English poets can appre-
ciate their gay exterior. Moore speaks of them as —

" Those bright things which have their dwelling
Where the little streams are welling ! "

I

A NATURALIST'S STORY. 175

Poor Clare, the Northamptonshire poet, correctly studied —

" The great dragon-fly with gauzy wings,
In gilded coat of purple, green, and brown,
That on broad leaves of hazel basking clings."

And Mary Howitt has seen them —

" Here and there they dart,
And flush like gleams of green and azure light."

Beautiful as they are, they must be ranked among Nature's
fiercest and most insatiable destroyers. They are the terror
of the insect world. On this point we shall hereafter enlarge,
but before I forget it, I would fain relate an anecdote, in
illustration of their voracity, which I have read somewhere
or other. A naturalist recounts with what interest he has
often watched the proceedings of the dragon-fly. He has
seen it, in a locality where white butterflies were numerous,
dart down as a hawk upon a quarry, seize with its legs a firm
hold of a butterfly, and carry it to a branch of an adjoining
tree. In a moment one of the white wings would drop from
the boughs, and then another would come wavering down-
wards, and so on, until all four had fallen ; and the dragon-
fly, after a short pause, would again dart forth in pursuit of
a fresh victim. He
never launched himself
on his prey when on a
perfect horizontal line
with it; but took care
to be either somewhat

higher, Or Somewhat FIG. 37.-The cVmmon Dragon-fly.

lower, so that he could seize it with his feet.

176 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LIBELLUL&.

But now let us consider by what characteristics the reader
is to recognise his Libellulse.

The eyes are very large, the size of the insect considered ;
of a brown colour, and nearly joined together at the top of
the head ; in front of this point of junction a tiny vesicle is
visible, carrying three ocelli (i.e., little, simple, glossy eyes),
two on each side, and the third on the anterior margin:
the thorax is large, hairy, and composed of two yellow plates ;
the abdomen laterally depressed, in such a manner as to give
great prominence to the medial line. This last and well-
marked feature it is which has procured for the Eleanora the
scientific name of Libellula depressa, — a name proposed by Lin-
naeus, and unanimously adopted ; such unanimity being a rare
occurrence among naturalists, though, to parody a phrase of
Sheridan's, when naturalists do agree, it is something wonderful !

In the male Libellulae, the upper surface of the abdomen is
bluish in hue, and covered as it were with an ashy dust,
while in the female it is olive; in both sexes the first and
last abdominal segment are of a deeper shade than the other
segments. The feet are black, and bristle all over with stiff
hairs ; the thighs are of a brownish red. The two pairs of
wings, each strongly reticulated, present, towards the extremity
of the upper border, a black rectangular spot; their base,
moreover, is edged with brown spots ; the spots of the lower
pair are triangular and larger than those of the upper pair,
which are nearly linear. They form, to a certain extent, the
reservoir of the liquid which nourishes and maintains the
circulation of the network of the wings.

SOME OTHER LIBELLULA. 177

The Libellula, which Geoffrey calls (in his " Histoire des
Insectes ") the Philinta, is simply the male of the species we
have just been describing. You may see them

" Where water-lilies mount their snowy buds,"
pursuing one another with an abrupt, jerking — I had almost
said staccato — flight.

A species less common than the preceding, but closely
resembling it, is the Fran^oise of Geoffrey, the Libellula quad-
rimaculata of Linnaeus. It owes its descriptive or specific
designation to the colours which diversify its wings. On the
outer edge of each, two brown marginal spots are con-
spicuous : the first at the place where in the Eleanora (and
other species) the black spot is found, and the second nearly
in the centre of the external border, which, at this point, is
considerably compressed; moreover, the lower wings are
marked, beneath their yellow base, with a kind of triangular
spot of blackish brown, finely reticulated with yellow. Ex-
ternally, there is no difference of appearance between male
and female, except that the abdomen of the latter is some-
what the larger.

Now we come to the Sylvia, the Libellula cancellata of
Linnaeus. Its eyes and thorax wear a greenish hue; the
diaphanous wings are spotted with brown near the outer
margin; the abdomen is of a bluish-gray; the extremity of
the sixth segment, and the following segments, are wholly
black.

M

'

178 THE AESHNA GRANDIS.

The Julia, or Libellula grandis (Linn.), has been separ-
ated from the Libellulse by the great entomologists, such as
Fabricius and Latreille, and included in the genus Aeshna
(Phcebus, what a name !), preserving the descriptive adjective
grandis. What are the reasons put forward to justify this
separation? Principally, the form of the abdomen, and the
position of those little smooth and simple eyes, like tiny pearls
or pearlets, which we call ocelli. In the Libellulae, properly so
called, the ocelli, three in number, are situated on either side
and on the exterior margin of a kind of semi-triangular vesicle,
and the abdomen is slightly depressed, and not unlike a club ;
while in the Aeshna the ocelli are placed on a simple keel-
shaped transversal embossment, and the abdomen is narrow,
elongated, and almost cylindrical.

The Aeshna grandis (or the " Julia ") is one of the largest
of the British species. Its head is large, and its eyes are of
a brown colour shading into blue ; the yellow thorax has two
bright yellow bands or stripes obliquely painted on each side.
The abdomen is of a reddish or even rusty brown; gene-
rally spotted with white and yellow at the top and bottom of
each wing. This species haunts the vicinity of streams and
" silent pools."

We come, in due order, to the Aeshna fortipata, or " Caro-
lina," with its dirty yellow head, and its greenish-yellow thorax,
the latter marked on each side with three oblique lines of

THE "LOUISA" DRAGON-FLY. 179

black : the abdomen is black, and composed of segments
laterally spotted with vellow.

The Libellula, which the illustrious Geoffrey designates
" Louisa," is, according to modern entomologists, neither a
Libellula nor a Aeshna, but an species tf Agarion, — the Agarion
virgo (Libellula virgo, Linn.) The Agarions are distinguish-
able from the Libellula and the Aeshna by their remarkably
thin, filiform, and exceedingly elongated abdomen, and by
the three ocelli arranged triangle-wise on the top of the
head.

The " Louisa" (Agarion virgo) is by no means uncommon
in England, and may be found along the upper course of the
Thames, the Avon, and other rivers.
It is easily recognised by its frail
slender body, shining with metallic
blue reflexes. There are numerous
varieties, distinguished by their va-
rieties of "light and shade." The
spotless green-winged species is the
"Ulrica" of Geoffrey. The two

FiG. 38.— Male and Female of

sexes are not alike. In the centre \h* Agario» vir&.

of their delicately-reticulated wings the males have a large

bluish-brown spot, which is wanting in the females.

The genera Libellula, Aeshna, and Agarion compose the small
family of the Libellulites — a family plainly and conspicuously
characterised by the size of their head, and by the two pairs
of diaphanous wings of almost equal dimensions (the posterior

i8o

INSECT-HUNTING.

pair is a little shorter than the anterior), which, while the
animal is at rest, are kept horizontally extended.

FIG. 39.—" A sunny pool, half-fringed with trees."

These are tne characteristics which present themselves to
the observant eye at the first glance. Do you doubt me?
Betake yourself, when

** The bird is building in the tree,
And the flower has opened to the bee,"—

A CARNIVOROUS FAMILY. 181

betake yourself, I say, to any sunny pool, half-fringed with
trees, or pleasant river-margin ; go, armed with net and micro-
scope, and, having secured a specimen of these terrors of the
insect world, where

" The strong on weak, cunning on simple, prey,"
devote yourself to its patient examination.

It is only such an examination that can reveal to us some
equally important, but less obvious features of the insect.
But to catch a Dragon-fly is not always an easy task ; the
Libellulae are very timorous, or else they are suspicious of the
prowling naturalist who seeks what he can entrap. Their flight
is livelier and swifter than even that of the butterfly : when dis-
turbed in their repose, they fly away abruptly, their wings
rustling or crackling like a sheet of parchment ; if obstinately
pursued, they grow irritated, and in their quick jerking move-
ments exhibit all the rage of the Carnivora.

But can our Libellulae be carnivorous ? Most undoubtedly.
To convince yourself of it, you have but to glance at their
mouth, which is wholly unlike a butterfly's. What an arsenal
of weapons adapted for seizing and crushing a victim ! How
strong are those saw-toothed scaly mandibles ! How strong
their auxiliaries, the jaws, which terminate in that dentated
spring projection, furnished internally with ciliae ! Surely,
such instruments testify to their ferocious instincts, and should
induce our French neighbours to deny them the graceful name
of "les demoiselles." What a libel on tender woman, — on
man's "ministering angel!" Do but observe them. They
do not rest upon the blossom to extract its nectared sweets;

1 82 MODE OF REPRODUCTION.

in truth, they could not do so, for they are not furnished with
a proboscis. Warlike as the Amazons, — the only portion of
the female sex they can justly be said to resemble, — they
hover in the air to pounce, like vultures, upon whatever
insects may come within their reach; they quickly transfix,
and as quickly devour them. If they love to fly about the
pools, the marshes, and the streams, it is because they are
sure of prey in these localities. And, in fact, they there
encounter and devour an innumerable quantity of flies, moths,
gnats, and the like.

But there is another reason why the Dragon-flies, obeying
the secret impulse of nature, resort to the haunts we have
been describing. They were their cradles or nurseries, and
they become, in due time, the scenes of their espousals.

Before speaking of the singular metamorphosis they after-
wards accomplish, we must touch lightly on the subject of the
mode of reproduction of our brilliant demoiselles.

It is laid down as a law that, in the insect world, the males
are invariably smaller or weaker than the females. Yet this
law does not hold good with reference to the Libellulae, whose
males are, on the contrary, larger and stronger than their
females. Man may lay down laws, and extort obedience to
them, within his own domain ; but nature laughs at human
rules, and gives up her secrets only to the free thought, un-
shackled by the fetters of authority.

But why is the male Dragon-fly stronger than the female ?

AN EXTRA ORDINAR Y S URPRISE. 183

Because the former must make the first advances, and carry
off his aerial companion to celebrate their bridal. For this
purpose, he holds her tightly by the neck, and continues to
fly in this way for some few minutes. At length, he perches
himself on the branch of a willow, or the leaf of an aquatic
plant, along with his companion.

The eggs laid by the female are oblong in shape, and some-
times united together in clusters: the female deposits them
in the water, or on some water-floated leaf plant, shortly after
their fecundation.

METAMORPHOSIS OF THE DRAGON-FLY.

" To-day I saw the Dragon-fly
Come from the wells where he did lie ,
An inner impulse rent the veil
By his old husk : from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
He dried his wings : like gauze they grew,
Through croft and pasture wet with dew,
A living flash of light he flew."

—TENNYSON.

If in your walks abroad you should meet with a pool of
turbid water, do not object to linger for a moment on its
brink. Nature, as a reward for your trouble, will gratify you
with an extraordinary surprise. Stir up the mud with a stick,
or, better still, with your hand ; and then, as the children say,
you shall see — what you shall see !

Oh, what an ugly creature is struggling in this handful of
slime ! It looks like a large spider !

Nay, examine it more attentively; it can do you no harm.

1 84 THE MASKED KNIGHT.

Well, it is a singular animal; greenish in colour, bristling
with hairs, and covered with mud. It is not a spider, for it
has only six legs and these are exactly like the legs of insects*
I can distinctly make out three joints (articulations) to each
tarsus, which terminates in a simple hook. The belly is
formed of regular segments ; is rounded above, and flat under-
neath. What do I see? On the top, and nearly in the
middle, each ring is armed with a spine, so that the row of
spiny projections remind one of the back of a crocodile.
Pray tell me, what is this curious creature ?

Before I tell you, I would have you more thoroughly ac-
quainted with it. Continue your examination.

The face has a strange expression ; it looks — the insect, I
mean — like a masked knight. Its mask, formed of a scaly
substance and thoroughly compact, is composed of two
pieces, which are separated from one another by a transversal
suture : the upper, which is broader than it is high, we may
call the vizor; it consists of two lobes, soldered together
longitudinally; the lower, which is higher than it is broad,
will be the chin-piece ; it is triangular in shape, and its base
rests against the vizor, while the summit is jointed or articu-
lated with a support, which acts as a hinge when the mask is
raised or lowered.

These movements, let me tell you, are voluntary; the
animal raises its mask to arrest on their way the Infusoria and
other animalcules on which it feeds. For crushing them, it
is provided with strong mandibles, which you can detect by
lowering the mask with a pin, or the point of a penknife. The

HO W THE MASK IS MADE. 185

eyes, which resemble little mammillary protuberances, are situ-
ated above and outside of the vizor. On the animal's back,
where the belly joins the thorax, do you observe those four
little sheath-like or scabbard-like tongues? The extremity
of the body, the tail, is marked by three conspicuous triangular
points, lying close to the opening, through which the water
enters and issues, as if it were
alternately sucked in and
poured out by a piston. This,
you must understand, is the
respiratory apparatus. (See

FIG. 40. — Larva of the FIG. 41. — Larva of
Fig. 40.) Libellula depressa. \hz Agarion vtrgo.

Well, then, what is the name of this most singular creature,
this masked knight ?

It is the larva of the Lfreiluia depressa; the dismal envelope
whence will issue the gaudy Dragon-fly. Listen to a graphic
description of the mask you are looking at : —

" Conceive your under-lip to be horny instead of fleshy, and
to be elongated perpendicularly downwards, so as to wrap
over your chin and extend to its bottom ; that this elongation
is there expanded into a triangular convex plate attached to
it by a joint, so as to bend upwards again and fold over the
face as high as the nose, concealing not only the chin and the
first-mentioned elongation, but the mouth and part of the
cheeks ; conceive, moreover, that to the end of this last-
mentioned plate are fixed two other convex ones, so broad as
to cover the nose and temples ; that these can open at plea-
sure transversely, like a pair of jaws, so as to expose the nose

1 86 ONLY A LARVA.

(

and mouth, and that their inner edges, where they meet, are

cut into numerous short teeth, or spines, or armed with one
or more sharp claws ; — you will then have as accurate an idea
as any powers of description can give you of the strange con-
formation of the under-lip of the larva of those insects, which
conceals the mouth and face precisely as I have supposed a
similar construction of your lip would do yours. When at
rest, this mask applies closely to and covers the face ; when
they would make use of it, they unfold it like an arm, catch
the prey at which they aim by means of the mandibuliform
plates, and then partly refold it, so as to hold the prey to the
mouth in the most convenient position for the operation of
the two pairs of jaws with which they are provided."

And so the creature I have been examining is only a larva !
How strange to compare it, — thick, ugly, unwieldy, — with the
insect that issues from it, so aerial, so graceful, so light, so
beautiful! The more I think of the contrast, the more it
interests me.

This larva, however, has all the characteristics of a perfect
insect, and I will wager that more than one observer has
described it as such, and classified it among aquatic insects.
Yet it is but a larva ! And each species has its own special
larva (see Figs. 40 aixd 42).

This seems to me as difficult to believe as if you told me
that John, James, Peter, — in fact, all men, — were only tem-
porary bodies from which more perfect beings would one day
emerge. For the medium in which these masked creatures
live, — the troubled and muddy medium for which they are

A SYMBOL OF LIFE. 187

adapted by their organisation, and in which they seem destined
to live out their life, — differs wholly and absolutely from the
aerial medium wherein, you tell me, they will one day rejoice.

Do you see, on the brink of the pond, those dried-up bodies ?
They are those of your aquatic insects, the mortal remains of
Libellulites ; they have rent open their vest, as you would do a
garment which had become too narrow ; the rent is very con-
spicuous along the back ; and through the fissure issue the
winged and aerial resuscitated Dragon-flies, summoned to live
in a world differing so widely from their former one ! Under
the tongues were folded up the wings, and the mask that
puzzled you so greatly is split open on the level of the sutures,
so as to represent a T> wanting only a handle to reproduce one
of those hieroglyphics (J) which are found so frequently on
the Egyptian monuments, and which, according to some
Egyptologists, signify eternal life.

And here, my friend and companion, we may take leave of

" The great Dragon-fly witn gauzy wings."

BOOK III.

SUMMER.

Blessed, thrice blessed is the man with whom
The generous prodigality of nature,
The balm, the bliss, the beauty, and the bloom,
The bounteous providence in every feature,
Recall the good Creator to His creature,
Making all earth a fane, all heaven its dome ! .

The sod 's a cushion for his pious want,
And consecrated by the heaven within it,

The sky-blue pool, a font ;
Each cloud-capped mountain is a holy altar ;

An organ breathes in every grove,

And the full heart 's a psalter,
Rich in deep hymns of gratitude and love.
— THOMAS HOOD.

The poetry of Earth is never dead

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.

—KEATS.

CHAPTER I.

WHA T MA Y BE SEEN IN THE HE A VENS.

" And God said, Let there be light ; and there was light."

— GENESIS.

" A sound of song
Beneath the vault of Heaven is blown."

— GOETHE.

HE unequal duration of Day and Night, the suc-
cession and regular return of the seasons, all the

phenomena observable upon the earth, are but the
effects of a cause which we must seek in the heavens.
It is impossible to explain them unless we contemplate
it on high, relegating our planet into the great chorus
of the worlds, where it holds but a modest rank. Only,
to perform this miracle, we must for a moment repress
in ourselves the senses which deceive us by their
exaggeration or appearances, and give free course to
enlightened thought. It is by this means alone that
we can succeed in fully demonstrating the close and
perpetual relationship which exists between our planet

i92 LIGHT, MORE LIGHT.

and the other spheres composing what we call the Solar
System.

Permit us here a parenthesis, or, shall we say, a digression ?

The whole secret of science, the whole secret of human
knowledge — in truth, the whole future of humanity — lies in
these two words — Enlightened Thought.

And here, gentle reader, I solicit your assistance in endea-
vouring to elucidate a question which has a for a long time
puzzled me. Why do we apply the word "light" to that
which sets in motion the eye of the body, and to that which
induces the operation of the eye of the mind, — to the sin-
gularly mysterious physical agent without whose intervention
all the external world would be to man a dream or a void,
as well as to the still more mysterious moral agent which
illuminates the world within ?

I anticipate your answer. "The light," you say, "which
opens up to me the material world is a reality ; the other is
only an image."

And it is true that this is the solution which first presents
itself to the mind. But the longer you reflect upon it, the
more you will be inclined to agree with me that it is unsatis-
factory. What, then, means this agreement among all peoples,
past and present, to designate by the same words — as

Light To illuminate

Obscurity To obscure

Shadow To overshadow

Morning To darken

REASONS FOR HESITATION. 193

Day To clear away

Twilight To blind

Gloom To cloud

— those actions, processes, or operations which take place or
are produced in the outer world, physical or material, and in
the inner world, intellectual or moral.

Were your pretended " image " the result of purely personal
impressions, — all persons are not equally apt in apprehending
those fictitious relations which are the food of poetry, — were
it. in a word, no more than an individual conception, and,
therefore, eminently variable, I should not hesitate to accept
your opinion : we should simply be discussing what are called,
in scholastic language, the individual sense (sens propre) and
the imaginative sense (sens figure). But there exists upon this
point an unanimous and universal agreement : all languages,
living or dead, attest it; it embraces the aggregate of the
members of the human family.

This is the first point which induces me to doubt the legiti-
macy of the proposed explanation. But I am confirmed in
my hesitation by numerous other facts.

Let us emerge from the domain of rhetoric to enter that of
experimental physiology and psychology. Too powerful a
light blinds the organs of seeing. No mortal eye, unless with
the aid of artificial appliances, can gaze upon the sun, the great
source of light. If the vision is to act clearly, we must pro-
ceed step by step. If from a very light apartment we pass
rapidly, and without transition, into a darkened room, or vice

N

194 SOME ANALOGIES PRESENTED.

versa, we feel temporarily blinded : the eye demands a short
time to recover, as it were, from its astonishment. If we fix
our gaze for one or two minutes on a star of the first magni-
tude, as, for example, Sirius, and afterwards turn away abruptly,
the eye will for a while remain insensible to stars of a less in-
tense splendour.

These are incontestable physiological facts, which anybody
may easily verify for himself.

Well, in the psychological order facts exist which are in all
respects analogous. Take one of those truths which the
human thought, labouring generation after generation, has
taken centuries to discover or elucidate; place it suddenly
before an unprepared mind; however luminous may be this
truth, it will be simply shadow and darkness to the mind we
speak of ; it will not comprehend an iota of it. Why ? For
the very obvious reason that it lies outside its sphere of ideas,
in every respect comparable to the sphere of vision, beyond
which and within which there is no more room for the sen-
sorial impressions. There, as here, we must proceed gradually,
and arrange the transitions so as to produce the desired results.

It would be easy for me to develop this parallel by other
and still more remarkable facts; but what I have just said
will suffice to show that the line of demarcation which philo-
sophers have, upon principle, desired to trace between the
physical and moral order, has turned the mind aside from
many fertile fields of research and speculation. Let us cite

THE DESIRE OF TRUTH. 195

an example. The sun is the visible centre of light, heat,
organic life ; in fine, of all the movements of our material
world. Yet it is but a relative focus, since the sun, with its
planetary train, revolves, probably, in company with other
suns or systems, around a centre as yet unknown ; and as
there is no reason why we should pause in this cycloidal pro-
gression, this second centre or focus of systems may revolve
around a third, the third around a fourth, and so on. Thus
we shall have an indeterminate series of relative centres j for
the term does not exist of which we can say, — there is the
beginning, or here is the end of the series.

We do not meet with the absolute in the material, any more
than in the intellectual world. Truth, by its power of attrac-
tion, sets in motion all the wheels of our understanding ; we
seek after it eagerly, in the doubt which torments us, in the
obscurity which surrounds us ; we all feel the need of being
enlightened by it, and warmed, and revivified ; we all are in
need of belief, and, at the same time, of possessing — let there
be no illusion in this respect — a certainty or demonstration
of what we believe.

But the truth which we think our own does not leave the
mind at rest; a slight effort suffices, in fact, to teach us
that the truth we accept depends upon another and remoter
truth, and that the world of thought is thus carried onward in
an interminable series of relative truths ; unless we find it
more convenient to pause here at a primary cause, as else-
where at a primordial centre, which we may ever identify with
the primary cause. But is this truth, supposed to be final,

196 A NEW LOCUS STANDI.

capable of satisfying equally every mind ? With this question,
dear reader, I close my parenthesis.

To understand clearly the variable duration of the day at
all points of the terrestrial surface, let us so place ourselves
as to see our planet distinctly in front. I need hardly say
that this invitation is not addressed to the visual organs of the
body, but to the "mind's eye, Horatio." With the former,
fixed as we are on the surface of the globe, we can only see
the shadows of objects standing out in relief upon it, and still,
with the sun at our back, can perceive but a comparatively
insignificant portion. With the second, on the contrary, we
may detach ourselves from the earth, may mount afar into
space, may plant ourselves on some aerial height, whence we
may embrace, at a single glance, all the illuminated hemi-
sphere of our globe : we shall have but a single shadow on
the prospect, — that which our brightened planet casts be-
hind it, and which, in four -and -twenty hours, traverses
the entire surface of the globe, producing light wherever it
passes.

Having completed our preparations, let us note what we
perceive with our eye thus disjoined from our body, — an eye
equally well adapted to fix every moving object, and to see
at any distance bodies extremely small, or bodies extremely
large. What a marvellous eye ! And it is for us to develop
its power, and freely to increase its range. What an arduous
task !

THEOR Y OF LIGHT. 197

The luminous envelope, the photosphere of the sun, simul-
taneously darts its rays in all directions, with an intensity
which diminishes with the square of the distance.

Let us follow those which direct their course towards our
planet.

So long as the rays do not come into collision, or strike
against resistant matter, they neither warm nor enlighten.
Confirming the Newtonian hypothesis of emission, they travel
straight as arrows through the icy space, the shadowy ocean
in which the waves of the terrestrial atmosphere are lost.
But the moment they encounter a material obstacle, the rays
partly penetrate it, and are partly thrown back, in such a
manner as to form a series of undulations like those which the
falling of a stone into a pond produces. As they recede from
these repeated shocks, the rays come under that theory of
undulation which Huygens promoted.*

Let us trace the rays of light back to their origin. These
encounter first the globes nearest to the sun : the almost im-
perceptible asteroids, which, on account of the solar splendour,
can scarcely be detected, and which, as yet, have received no
baptismal names. Yonder beams illuminate other revolving
globes, — Mercury, Venus, the Earth. If we here arrest our
gaze, we are influenced by a vague and mournful recollection ;
the Earth was our place of sojourn at an epoch when thought,
formerly shackled, had become free. It is thus that a seed, re

* No one, I think, has ever before attempted to reconcile, in this way,
the two principal theories which have been put forth on the propagation
of light.

198 DAY AND NIGHT.

moved from the stem which nourished it, wanders afar to
diffuse and perfect its species. Our planet, of an ochreous
yellow, relieved with green and white, possesses no special
privileges; it shares in the ponderated movements of the
spheres ; it is neither the largest, nor the smallest, nor the
heaviest, nor the lightest, nor the nearest to, nor the farthest
from, the sun. And shall Earth alone, of all the planets,
nourish that kind of " thinking seed " which we name the
human race ? It seems improbable.

But let us return to the great orb of light. It illuminates
exactly one half of our earth \ the other half lies in shade.
And as the earth rotates upon its own axis, every point of
its surface is necessarily exposed to the action of the solar
rays. This action varies in duration and intensity.

All this I was taught, when I was still at school on our re-
volving planet. I remember, too, as a lesson learned by heart,
that, under the Equator, or, more exactly, in o° o' latitude, as
well as at the Poles, or under 90° latitude ; the duration of
the day is equal to that of the night, with this difference, that,
while under the Equator, a day of twelve hours alternates
invariably with a night of the same duration, at the Poles a
day of six months succeeds continually to a night of six
months. I also recollect that, at a given moment, namely,
at the spring and autumn equinoxes, the duration of the day,
over all the terrestrial surface, is equal to that of the night,
just as under the Equator ; and that, after these two epochs,
under the intermediary latitudes, between the Equator and

ASTRONOMICAL EXPLANATIONS. 199

the Poles, the length of the days and their corresponding
nights varies according to the seasons ; that, in our northern
hemisphere, after the spring equinox, the days increase while
the nights diminish, to such an extent that, at the summer
solstice, — 21-22 June, — they attain their maximum of length
(and the nights their minimum), the reverse taking place
during the period that elapses between the autumn equinox
and the winter solstice.

I remember that I learned these data when I was living
rooted to or anchored upon the earth; but the explanation
which my masters gave me was not so clear as I could have
wished. Their considerations on the declensions of the sun,
on the obliquity of the ecliptic, on the necessity of exactly
reducing the earth to a simple point in relation to the dis-
tance of the stars, to the end that the phenomena occurring
(rapportes) on parallel planes would be nearly identical with
those observed from the centre of the globe, or from a point
situated on its surface j all these fine things, which demanded
a certain faculty of geometrical intuition, left a curious vague-
ness of idea upon my mind. I accepted them, under the
influence of authority, as beyond discussion, but I was by
no means satisfied whenever I wished to ascertain their
foundation.

But now — in the regions of space — everything grows simple
before the mind, in which, apparently, all my power of thought
is concentrated.

Behold the illuminated atmosphere ; it reminds me vividly

200 MO VEMENTS OF THE SPHERE.

of the disc of the full moon. Ah, what exquisite iris colours !
They mark the meeting-points of the bright with the obscured
hemisphere : a circular line carried through all these points
would exactly separate day and night. On the one side,
motion and life and glow; on the other, silence and shade
and calm. This line moves, carrying with it in its movement
day and night, the illuminated and the darkened hemisphere ;
it moves from east to west, so that the bright hemisphere and
the shadowy one, whose union forms what may be called the
photo-adumbrated sphere, revolves, in four-and-twenty hours,
round an axis which coincides at this moment — the 2ist day
of March, according to the " terrestrial worms," — with the axis
of the earth rotating on itself in an inverse direction, that is
to say, from west to east. Let us note this coincidence : it
is remarkable ; inasmuch as, at the equinoxes, the terrestrial
equator divides exactly the illuminated and the obscured
hemisphere into two equal parts, one of which is situated to
the north, the other to the south, and their line of separation
coincides with a meridian circle.

But I see another, and much slower movement, very clearly
defined. The axis of rotation of the photo-adumbrated sphere
does not remain parallel with the terrestrial axis of rotation j
it retires from it little by little, so as to form with it an angle
which attains its maximum at the summer solstice (21-22 June);
afterwards, returning upon itself, it coincides anew with the
terrestrial axis of rotation (the autumn equinox), to make an
angle in the contrary direction, whose maximum, of the same

DAY AT THE POLES. 201

value as the former, corresponds to the winter solstice
(21-22 December). This movement, which is annual, com-
plicates itself with the diurnal. It is rendered visible by the
displacement of the polar shroud of snow : the portion which,
at the moment of the spring equinox, belonged, in the
northern hemisphere, to the obscured hemisphere, moves
onward, as a result of the inclination of its axis, to become
an integral part of the illuminated hemisphere ; while, at the
same time, the portion which, in the southern hemisphere,
belonged to the illuminated hemisphere, moves onward to
become an integral part of the darkened hemisphere. Owing
to this displacement, the sun shows itself for six consecutive
months above the horizon, for the North Pole ; at the spring
equinox it begins to rise, at the summer solstice it attains
its maximum elevation, and from the summer solstice it
begins to decline. Thus, then, we have in reality a day six
months long, of which the morning and the evening are the
two equinoxes, its noon the summer solstice.

In the same periods an exactly opposite order of things
prevails in the southern hemisphere.

Everything, even to the minutest detail, is in this way very
clearly explained. Two facts — like the touches of a painter's
brush — suffice to impress the whole upon the mind, namely : —

That, first, one half of the terrestrial surface is constantly
illuminated by the sun, while the other half remains in dark-
ness;

That, secondly, the rotation of the earth upon its axis
produces day and night, by carrying from east to west the

202 CAUSE OF THE EQUINOXES.

illuminated hemisphere, always diametrically opposite to the
darkened hemisphere.

This being thoroughly understood, let us place ourselves
in the equatorial plane, so as to embrace at a single glance
a quarter of the illuminated and a quarter of the darkened
hemisphere. If the equator of the photo-adumbrated sphere
perpetually coincided with the terrestrial equator, — if, in other
words, the earth, in revolving round the sun, invariably occu-
pied the plane of the Equator, which, when prolonged, would
pass through the centre of the illuminating orb, — the diurnal
rotation would not cease to divide equally the light and the
darkness over the earth's surface, as is shown in Fig. 42 a,

a b

FIG. 42.— S, the Sun ; EE, the Equator ; N, North Pole ; S, South Pole.

where S indicates the sun, EE the terrestrial equator, and
N S the extremities (or North and South Poles) of the axis
which divides the globe into an illuminated and a darkened
half. This phenomenon of coincidence exists ; but only for
a very brief period, and is only repeated twice a year, — that
is, at the equinoxes. At all other times, the equator of the
photo-adumbrated sphere, in whose plane the orb of light is
situated, passes sometimes above and sometimes below the
terrestrial equator.

But this alternate movement of northern and southern declina-

THE SOLAR ARC. 203

tion has its limits; it stops at 23° 27' 30" on either side of the
Equator ; this, too, is the maximum of the distance which the
imaginary axis of the photo-adumbrated sphere retires from
the axis of terrestrial rotation ; it is at the same time the value
of the obliquity of the ecliptic, or of the inclined plane which
the earth traverses in its annual movement of revolution.

Fig. 42 £, which represents the photo-adumbrated sphere
at the summer solstice, will enable the reader to comprehend
with the utmost facility the six months' day of the North Pole,
coinciding with the six months' night of the South Pole ; for
the triangle N C D indicates the amount by which the illu-
minated moiety increases in the northern hemisphere between
the spring equinox and the summer solstice, the amount being
equal to that by which the adumbrated moiety overspreads in
a contrary direction the South Pole in the southern hemi-
sphere. The superfluous quantity of the photo-adumbrated
sphere is nil at the apex of the two opposite triangles, or in
the equinoctial region. And then, in effect, both day and night
are always twelve hours long. Starting from the equinoctial
line, we see how easy it is to calculate for each locality the
variable dimensions of the arc which the sun, in its apparent
course, traces above the horizon.

To see very distinctly the portion of the illuminated hemi-
sphere, which, passing beyond the North Pole, forms a lumin-
ous course on the darkened moiety of our globe, I have but to
place myself at midnight, on the 2ist of June, in the prolon-
gation of the terrestrial equator ; in the same way, to see the

204 THE CHANGING SEASONS.

corresponding portion of the darkened hemisphere, which
advances beyond the South Pole to invade the illuminated,
I have but to occupy at noon, on the 2ist of June, a point of
the same equatorial prolongation. Six months later, the same
spectacle will be presented, inversely, on the 2ist of December,
in the southern hemisphere. See Fig. 43 #, where the pole N
indicates the six months' day of the northern hemisphere (from

the spring to the autumn
equinox) ; while in Fig. 43
b, the pole S indicates the
six months' night of the
~ northern hemisphere (dur-

FIG. 43.— The Six Months' Day and Night.

ing the same period).

Now, no effort of the imagination is required to understand
why the inhabitants of the northern hemisphere enjoy summer
while those of the southern are enduring winter ; why it is
"blossoming spring" to the former when it is " purple
autumn" to the latter, and vice versa. Equally easy is it
to comprehend why, after the equinox, day, or the duration
of the sun above the horizon, gradually diminishes in one
hemisphere and increases in the other; why, in summer,
and in both hemispheres, the longest days alternate with
the shortest nights, and in winter, the longest nights with
the shortest days. It will not be more difficult to explain
the cause of the prevailing cold in the polar zones, despite
the prolonged sojourn of the sun above the horizon for a
great part of the year. Observe how obliquely the solar
rays are directed towards yonder shrouds of ice and snow :

TWILIGHT PHENOMENA. 205

how can they warm them? They nearly all vanish into
space. (See Fig. 42.)

Finally, there is not a phenomenon, even to that of dawn
and twilight, which cannot, on these principles, be very fully
and clearly explained. I have indicated, in a preceding
paragraph, the rainbow-glories of colour noticeable on the
line of demarcation between the illuminated and the darkened
hemispheres. They are wanting where the rays of light strike
vertically or nearly vertically. It is this circumstance which
explains why, in the intertropical regions, the crepuscular
phenomena are nearly null; why the sun, so to speak, sets
and rises abruptly, like a taper which we extinguish or re-
kindle. These iris-gleams increase, on the other hand, in
intensity, in proportion as we recede from tropical regions:
the red touches the horizon, while the violet blends with
the azure of the sky \ between these two extremes, which
are always very clearly marked, are arranged in less per-
ceptible fashion, and in the order of refraction, the other
colours of the rainbow.

What time and labour does it not require for the mind to
disengage, to free itself from the fetters and incumbrances of
sensorial appearances, the illusions of the senses, and to rise
sufficiently high to seize at a glance all the dynamics of the
world !

It is this faculty, however, which distinguishes the intellect
from the imagination.

206 VOX CLAMANTIS IN EREMS,

That he may abandon himself to the enjoyment of those
pleasures which, like Dead Sea apples, crumble to ashes on
his lips, the fool puts aside all mental toil, and disregards the
shortness of his time, — ignores the brief period allowed for
the development of the understanding. But, at least, let
Imagination abstain from substituting its idle dreams for the
assured results which can be only the reward of reason,
conscientiousness, and labour! Unfortunately, here as else-
where, it is vox damantis, and we preach in the desert !

CHAPTER II.
WHA T MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH.

" Now the shining meads
Do boast the pansy, lily, and the rose,
And every flower doth laugh as zephyr blows."

—BEN JONSON.

HE Flower seems to have been created expressly
to say to men : — " Listen ! Those things which
most attract your glance are but subordinate,
and the principal escape you."

That the warning is true, all history attests. It is
only, so to speak, from yesterday that the discovery of
the sex of plants is to be dated ; the tiny organs occu-
pying the centre of the flower having always appeared so
insignificant that they had passed, for some thousands of
years, completely unnoticed. The eye of the spectator
was caught by the calyx and the corolla ; these en-
velopes, though of secondary importance so far as the
reproduction of the vegetable is concerned, seemed

208 ABOUT THE PERIANTH.

to eyes dazzled by their glowing colours the true flower, —
in fact, the entire flower. Science, which is the slow
elaboration of thought matured by the study of objects of
no human origin, has completely swept aside this premature
judgment.

THE PERIANTH.

We have already, and more than once, employed the word
perianth* to designate the calyx or corolla, whether taken
separately or together. In the former case, the perianth is
simple. ; in the latter, it is double. A more appropriate word
could not be made use of. It is derived from the Greek vreol,
around, and &v6ot, flower ; and literally signifies, " floral enve-
lope." Simple or double, this envelope is the metamorphosis
of several leaves, never of a solitary one, inserted upon planes
so closely brought together that they seem confounded.
Observe, in fact, how the leaves tend to efface their
intervals on the blossom-bearing spray; they draw towards
each other, they are apparently in eager haste to accom-
plish their destined transformation. What eloquence there
is in this simple language of nature !

The Calyx. — The outermost whorl, or verticle, of the flower

* The term perianth is usually confined to the flowers of Endogens,
whatever colours they present, whether green, as in asparagus, or coloured,
as in tulip. Some use the term as a general one, and restrict the use of
perigone to cases where a pistil is present, not applying it to unisexual
flowers, in which stamens only are produced." — Professor JBalfour, " Manual
of Botany " p. 169.

WHA T IS A SEPAL ? 209

is called the calyx. And why ? Out of a notion altogethe"
incorrect. It is true that this foliaceous envelope may often
assume the shape of a cup (in Latin, calix), and hence that
the name has about it a semi-poetical air. But this only
occurs when the calyx is composed of a single leaf, which
has procured for it the special designations of monosepalous^
gamopetalous, and monophyllous^ — three different words ex-
pressing one and the same thing ! The violet and the
primrose are examples of a monophyllous, monosepalous,
or gamopetalous calyx.

I see, dear reader, that you are puzzled by the word sepal.
Certainly you would look for it in vain in any classical
dictionary; it is neither Greek nor Latin. It was only
invented, scarce a century ago, by a Swiss botanist, whose
works have chiefly remained in manuscript, — by Necker,
brother of the celebrated minister of Louis XVI., and uncle
of the illustrious Madame de Stael. Let me explain the
circumstance which determined, I suspect, the choice of
this fanciful word, — a word belonging to no language but
that of modern botanists.

The botanists of antiquity called the coloured leaflets of
the corolla, petals. In this they were doubly right ; for, first,
they are, in reality, nothing but metamorphosed leaves ;
second, the word petal (in Greek, weraXov) signified "a leaf"
as early as the days of Homer, who, when speaking of the
nightingale, says, like a keen observer of nature, that this
bird, on the return of spring, sings —

o

DIVISIONS OF THE CALYX.

" Couched among the thick leaves of the grove."
(^fvSptwv tv TrerdXoiffi Ka.6efofJ.4vr} irvKa>oi<riv.) *

The word petal was preserved by Tournefort, handed down
by Linnaeus and the two De Jussieus, and afterwards adopted
by all botanists with the signification given to it by the
ancients. Now, as the calyx may also consist of leaflets,
which are generally green, Necker conceived the idea of
applying to them the same term, after substituting an s for
the initial letter /. Thus was created the word sepal. The
innovation, I must point out, was not unanimously adopted.
Many botanists continued to use the words " calicinal leaf-
Jets," introduced by Linnaeus ; others, though they adopted
the innovation, protested .against it.

But leaving the word, let us return to the thing.

The calyx consists originally of several leaflets. Is the
monophyllous or monosepalous calyx a transformation due to
the junction of the primitive leaflets ? Observation replies in
the affirmative.

In the formation of junctures or adhesions nature proceeds
from beneath to above. Our language proceeds inversely to
nature : we speak of a lobed, dentated, or partite calyx, as if
it were primarily monophyllous, and its more or less profound
divisions (indicated by the words " lobed," " dentated," " par-
tite") were but consecutive results, produced from above to
below.

The truth is, that the calicinal divisions, which we call
lobes, hernias, and the like, are but the tops of leaflets united
* Homer, " Odyssey," Book xix., line 520.

A REFORM PROPOSED. 2 i 1

at their base. The monophyllous calyx (formed of one piece)
is, therefore, simply the result of a more or less complete union
of the leaflets composing, properly speaking, the calicinal
whorl. This whorl is originally polyphyllous ; that is to say,
formed of several distinct parts. If it were, in the first place,
monophyllous, it would be impossible to understand how its
divisions are made from top to bottom, since nature, in its
developments, proceeds from bottom to top. In the final
analysis, then, it is an error to consider the calyx as a cup,
primarily formed of a single piece.

Grew, an English botanist of the eighteenth century, seems
to have been the first who made use of the word calyx. " I
call a calyx," he says,* "the external portion of the flower,
which enfolds the others, whether it be all in one piece, as in
the violets, or divided, as in the roses."

If we wish to conform to the truth, as brought before us
by nature, we must revolutionize our terminology. Instead
of speaking of bipartite, tripartite, quadripartite, or of bilobed
and trilobed calices, — terms all signifying that the mono-
phyllous calyx is cloven more or less deeply from top to
bottom, we must say that the calyx in such and such a
species has its leaflets united at the base, or one third, fourth,
or half of its height ; the polyphyllous or polysepalous calyx will
be that whose leaflets remain detached, as was the case in the
monophyllous or monosepalous calyx. This language, recora-
* Grew, "Anatomy of Plants," p. 147.

212 PROTEIFORM MOVEMENTS.

mended by the authority of Auguste Saint-Hilaire, would be
more precise and exact : therefore, it will not be very quickly
adopted. One would say that the human mind con-
demns itself to pass through the purgatory of what is false
and complex, before resolving to adopt the simple and the
true.

If we admit the theory according to which all the organs of
the vegetable are the result of a metamorphosis of the leaf,
we shall ask what place is to be given to the calyx in the
series of these transformations ? — Answer : The calyx is a
foliaceous transformation, intermediary between the bracts
and the corolla.

It is particularly in the study of the calyx that the attentive
eye is struck by those proteiform movements in which nature
makes sport of our absolute rules.

For example : in the Berberis vulgaris, the young calicinal
leaflets have less resemblance to the bracts than to the petals
of the corolla, and hence they hav*e received the name of
petaloid sepals. In other flowers this morphogenic wavering
inclines towards the bracts rather than towards the corolla.
We hesitate, therefore, whether we must give the name of calyx
or bracts to the three under leaflets which are visible beneath
the petaloid envelope of the Anemone nemorosa, or wood ane-
mone. The calyx of the Celandine (Ranunculus ficaria), which
also flowers in spring, is exactly like a whorl or involucre formed
by the union of the bracts.

SOME PECULIARITIES IDENTIFIED. 213

A similar embarrassment takes place when the calyx, in its
metamorphosis, inclines too visibly in the direction of the
corolla. Thus, in the Polygala vulgaris, — a little, vivacious,
and very abundant plant, — the two inner leaflets of the calyx
are not only larger than the three other outer leaves, but they
are coloured like the petals, and become, towards the close of
their flowering time, membranous, herbaceous, and marked
with three strong veins : they resemble the wings of a butter-
fly, and have been called wings.

These peculiarities are useful in the distinction of certain
species, which, at bottom, are simply varieties. Thus, in the
Polygala Austriaca (Polygala amara of Keoch, Polygala uli-
ginosa of Reichenbach), — a plant with small white or bluish
leaves, which is sometimes met with on the borders of peaty
swamps, — the central vein or ridge of the wings is simple, and
never anastomoses with the lateral veins ; while, in the Poly-
gala vulgariSy as well as in the Polygala depressa and Polygala
amarella, the vein is ramified, and anastomoses more or less
widely with the laterals.

But since we are upon this subject, why should we not seize
the opportunity of familiarising ourselves, under the form of a
digression, with the little family of the Polygalaceae ? But no ;
we will adjourn the episode, since it would cut the thread of
our discourse upon the calyx, our calicology.

Some calices there are, which, by their colouring, approxi-

2i4 CALYX OR COROLLA?

mate so closely to the second floral envelope, that one is always
tempted to call them corollas.

Such are : — The red calyx of the fuchsia ;

The yellow calyx of the furze ( Ulex Europ<zus\ and of a
kind of hellebore (Helkborus hy emails] ;

The rosy calyx of the Christmas rose (Helleborus niger);

The blue calyx of the larkspur (Delphinium Ajacis); and the
Napel aconite (Aconitum Napellus).

In the Aquilegia vulgaris, and in the Trollius Europczus, the
calyx, by the form and colouring of its leaflets, is confounded
with the second whorl so completely, that Linnaeus gave it the
name of corolla.

Nevertheless, in the midst of these waverings, which lead us
to mistake the calicinal leaflets sometimes for bracts, some-
times for petals, we recognise perfectly the foliaceous type.
Independently of its colour, which is generally green, the calyx
has the same organisation as the leaf; we find in it the same
tracheae and the same stomata, the same glands and the same
hairs ; the veins and ramifications are also the same ; and, in
more than one instance, the calicinal leaflet resumes the char-
acter of a veritable leaf. Look, for example, at the five leaflets,
united so strongly at the base but so free at the top, arranged
in the form of a quincunx, of the hundred-leaved rose. The
two external, enlarged, and lanceolate pieces are garnished on
the right and left, and often at the point, with tiny foliaceous
appendages, which, in every respect, imitate the composite leaf
that carries the slender stem. And if we move aside the
external or bearded parts of the calyx, we see that the internal

THE "TUBE" AND THE "LIMB? 215

bear less and less resemblance to a leaf. Thus, the part which
comes next is semi-bearded ; that is to say, it is furnished with
foliaceous appendages only on one side ; and the two upper
pieces are beardless^ that is, reduced to the dilated central
vein.

It was these metamorphic forms of the free portion of the
calicinal foliola (united below) of the rose, which originated
a well-known enigma, conveyed in the following Latin dis-
tich : —

" Quique sumus fratres, unus barbatus et alter,
Imberbes duo, sum semi-berbes duo, sum semi-berbes ego."

("We are brothers, both bearded, two beardless ; I am two half-bearded,
and I myself am half -bearded.")

They are specially noticeable in a variety of the Rose of
Bengal, in which all the petals seem to be transformed into
calicinal leaves. (Fig 44.)

The part of the calyx formed by the union of the sepals is
called the tube: it is invariably the lower part. The upper
portion, where the sepals are free, is the limb.

Throughout the vegetable kingdom you will not find a
calyx in which the union of the sepals takes place at the
top.

This time, at all events, we have found — what is exclusively
rare in nature — a rule without an exception.

Generally, it is almost impossible to disunite, without rend-
ing, the foliola composing the tube of the calyx, their union is

THE EVENING PRIMROSE.

so complete. This circumstance prevented the first observers

from accurately ap-
prehending the com-
position and true de-
velopment of the
calyx. There are
cases, nevertheless, in
which Nature — the

FIG. 44.— Rose of Bengal. COqUCttC ! Suffers

herself to be surprised, if her lover have patience. As an ex-
ample we shall cite the monophyllous calyx of the OEnotherae.

Let us take the species known as (Enothera biennis. It
belongs, with the fuchsia, circsea, trapa, and others, to the
Evening Primrose family, or Onograceae.

Its pale yellow blossoms are unfolded during the hush of
evening-time in almost every garden, shedding abroad on the
breeze its delicate but delicious odour. Its petals open in a
remarkable manner. The calyx, as we shall see, has small
hooks attached to its upper extremity, by which it holds the
flower together before expansion. The calicinal divisions
gradually unfold at the lower part, and reveal the yellow
flower, which remains awhile closed at the upper parts of
the hooks. The flower then suddenly opens half-way, when
it stops ; afterwards completing its expansion gradually, and
finally opening with a loud noise.

This curious plant is of American origin, and was un-
known in our country until 1674, when it was introduced by
some French floriculturists.

A FLORAL DIAL. 217

It opens generally at about six or seven o'clock in the
evening.

And this statement induces me to digress. Where can I
better introduce to the reader's notice a Floral Dial? It is
not so complete as it might be made if I had space to enlarge
upon the subject. My object, however, is simply to suggest ;
and this brief allusion to the hours at which flowers fold and
unfold may induce the reader to study in more detail a
very pleasant branch of botanical science. He will find full
particulars in Mr Loudon's excellent " Encyclopaedia of
Gardening."

It is generally stated that the first Floral Dial, or clock,
which showed the time by the opening or shutting up of
blossoms throughout the day, was a fancy or invention of the
great Swedish naturalist, Linnaeus. But there is a distinct
allusion to this poetical measurement of the " fleeting hours "
in Marvell's poem on " The Garden : " —

" How well the skilful gardener drew
By flowers and herbs this dial new I
Where, from above, the milder sun
Does through a fragrant zodiac run ;
And, as it works, the industrious bee
Computes its time as well as we.
How could such sweet and wholesome hours
Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers?"

ether the idea first occurred to Englishman or Swede,
poet or botanist, matters but little j it is a graceful, a sugges-
tive, a beautiful idea, and might well be reproduced in some
of our large public gardens.

218

A FLORAL DIAL.

" 'Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,

As they floated in light away,
By the opening and the folding flowers,
As they laugh to the summer's day.

" Thus had each moment its own rich hue,

And its graceful cup and bell,
In whose coloured vase might sleep the dew,
Like a pearl in an ocean shell."

FLORAL DIAL.

TIME AT WHICH THE FOLLOWING FLOWERS FOLD AND UNFOLD.

Goat's Beard (Lat. syn. Tragopogon luteum),
Late-flowering Dandelion (Leontodon serotinum},
Hawkweed (Picris echioides),
Alpine Hawk's-beard (Crepis Alpina), . •

Wild Succory (Cichorium intybus), . v,

Naked-stalked Poppy (Papaver nudicaule,)
Copper-coloured Day-lily (Hemerocallis fulva], .
Smooth Sow-thistle (Sonchus Icevis),
Blue-flowered Sow-thistle (Sonchus Alpinus\
Field Bindweed (Convolvulus arvensis), .
Common Nipplewort (Lapsana communis],
Spotted Cat's-ear (Hypocharis maculata),
White Water-lily (Nymphata alba),
Garden Lettuce (Lactuca satzva),
African Marigold ( Tagetes erectd),
Mouse-ear Hawkweed (Hieracium piloscella),
Proliferous Pink (Dianthus proliferus), .
Field Marigold (Calendula arvensis}, .
Purple Sandwort (Arenaria purpurea\ . «

Creeping Mallow (Malva Caroliniana], .
Chickweed (Stellaria media\ .

After this long digression, we return to our Evening
Primrose.

Its large yellow flowers are disposed in clusters at the

Open.

Close

H. M.

H. M

P.M.

A.M

9.10

3-5

12.1

4.0

12.0

4-5

12.0

4-5

7.0

5-0

7-8

5-0

II. 12

5-o

12.0

5-0

4-5

5.6

IO.O

5.6

4.5

6.7

5.0

7.0

IO.O

7.0

3-4

7.0

2.O

8.0

2.0

8.0

1.0

8.0

3-°

9-0

2.3

9.10

12. 1

9.10

9.iO

9.10

MORE ABOUT THE (ENOTHERA. *i9

top of a stem often twenty inches long. The Pythagorean
tetrad (i.e., the number 4 and its double) predominates in all
its organs : 4 stigmata crowning a filiform stylus ; quadran-
gular capsule with 4 polyspermous lobes ; opening at top by
the separation of 4 valves ; twice 4 stamens ; 4 petals on a
large, emarginated limb ; 4 sepals. These are united at the
base, but not so as to prevent the observer from distinguishing
their number.

The general terms " regular " and " irregular," applied to
the calyx, as to every other organ, require to be employed
with considerable reserve. The delicate shades, which ought
to separate regularity from irregularity, are often so inappre-
ciable that it is almost impossible to say where one begins
and the other ends. See, for example, the Labiatse. In
most genera and species of this family, the two lips, one of
which consists 'of two and the other of three foliola, bring
out very completely the inequality of the calyx. But there
are also Labiatae, the inequality of whose sepals completely
effaces the character of the irregular bilabiated calyx.

In certain inflorescences, where the flowers comprising
them are very close together, as, for example, in the capitules
of the Synantheracese, the free upper portions of the calyx
may take the most irregular forms; as, sometimes, a tuft,
simple or feathery ; sometimes, membranous or scarious
spangles ; and, sometimes, bristles of greater or less stiffness.
What elements of the calyx do these transformations repre-
sent ? The veins, and notably the midrib of the limb of the
sepals, united underneath.

220 CURIOUS FORMS OF THE CALYX.

The free foliola of the polyphyllous calyx may vary in
form, like the caulinary leaves whence they issue by way of
metamorphosis ; they may be oval, elliptical, linear, &c.
Yet none have ever been observed of a heart-shape (cordi-
form).

Certain foliola of the polyphyllous calyx affect fantastic out-
lines. In the Delphinium, the upper sepal is prolonged into
a spur. In the aconites it is hollow like a helmet. The spur
of the calyx of the monk's-hood (Capucine) is the result of the
united prolongation of these foliola. The buckler (Scutellum),
from which is named the Scutellaria, a genus of Labiatae, is
a demi-orbicular boss formed below the inferior lip of the
calyx.

The union of the calicinal foliola sometimes forms a conical

calyx, as in the Silena conica,
anc* sometimes a cup-shaped
calyx, as in the orange ; some-
times, moreover, an urceolate
calyx, as in the henbane
(Hyosriamits niger). These
forms may vary singularly.
The calyx of the black alder
(Rhamnus frangula) is shaped
like a top ; that of the hari-

FIG. 45—The Henbane. COt (PkdSeoluS VUlgaris), like

a bell ; that of the tobacco-plant, or the Mollucella spinosa, is
infundibuliform (or funnel-shaped).

A BOTANICAL DIFFICULTY. 221

The observer is sometimes embarrassed in deciding to which
whorl he should refer the foliola he is examining. Thus, the
tiny foliola which, in the strawberry and the potentilla, alter-
nate with others and larger ones, are stipules rather than sepals.
Ought the sepals of the calyx in the Malvaceae to be assimi-
lated in like manner to the stipules ? It is difficult to reply
to this question satisfactorily. Take, for example, the Hibiscus
Syriacus, an ornamental shrub, better known by the name of
the garden-hemp. The inner calyx, or calyx properly so
called, of this Malvacea has five sepals, while the outer calyx,
or calicule, has twelve. Now, a leaf cannot have more than
two stipules, one on each side. For an outer calyx, then,
the proper number of foliola is ten, not twelve. To look
upon the second calyx as a "supernumerary development,"
would be to hazard a supposition contrary to the unity of
plan of the floral organs.

The calyx, like the corolla, is not an absolutely indispen-
sable organ. Sometimes, therefore, it is caducous — that is,
falls off before the flower expands, — as in poppies ; some-
times, persistent, or remains after flowering, — as in roses and
the majority of plants. In some cases it is persistent only
until after the act of fecundation, but this act accomplished,
it falls with the corolla in most of the Cruciferae and Ranun-
cuiaceae. This is a deciduous calyx.

The "caducity" and "persistency" of floral envelopes
furnish some valuable characteristics for the distinction 01
species. Thus; two closely-allied Cruciferae, the Alyssum

2 2 2 DISTINCTION OF SPECIES.

calidnitmy so common in spring upon stony soils, and the
Alyssum montanum, can only be distinguished from one
another by the fact that the calyx of the former is persistent,
of the latter caducous. It is true that the flowers of the
Alyssum calicinum are of a yellow which easily passes into
white, while those of the Alyssum montanum are of a beautiful
permanent yellow. But this latter distinction is not so good
as the former.

The persistent calyx sometimes assumes a considerable
increase of very common appearance. For example, take
the Phy sails alkekengi, a member of the Nightshade family or
Solanacese. The red bladder-like accrescence surrounding
the scarlet fruit is the calyx, which, after flowering, has grown
much larger than it was before. And these bright flowers which
resemble large strawberries, and abound on the borders of
meadow-paths, if you look at them closely, you find to be
the accrescent calices of the Trifolium fragiferum. The very
word fragiferum reminds us of the strawberry.

The calyx may change in consistency and texture in pro-
portion as the ovary, to which it adheres, changes into fruit.
The fleshy pulpy substance of the apple, and, in general, of
the fruits of the Pomacese, is simply an excessive develop-
ment of the calicinal tube united all around the ovary, and
recognisable in the pips, imprisoned, towards the centre, in
horny lobes. In other plants, as the flower develops into
fruit, the calyx becomes woody : such is the case with the
Water Chestnut (Trappa natans).

Finally, the calyx may even contribute to the dissemination

A CHAT ABOUT THE COROLLA. 223

of the seed. We may cite, as an example, a Brazilian species
of Urticaceae, which Saint-Hilaire named the Elasticaria. The
fleshy and cylindrical parts of the calyx are curved inwards,
and thus defend, as one might do with one's bended fingers,
the young fruit until it is completely developed ; as soon as
the fruit is ripe, they spring up erect, and launch it to a
distance.

The Corolla. — If from the circumference we proceed to the
centre of the flower, the calyx being the first, the corolla will
be its second envelope.

If, on the contrary, we proceed from the centre to the cir-
cumference, the corolla will form the fourth whorl ; the pistil
(consisting of stigmata, stylus, and ovary) being the first;
the nectariferous disc (often wanting) the second; and the
stamens the third whorl. Remarkable for its varied tints,
the corolla, to indifferent or ignorant eyes, seems the entire
flower.

A black or blackish colour is exceedingly rare. Out of 300
vegetable species which compose the flora of Central Europe,
there are not six with blackish or even grayish flowers. No
hypothesis has yet been put forward to explain this mark-
worthy rarity.

Species with a yellow corolla are the most numerous, form-
ing more than a sixth of the European flora : then come, in
their order of frequency, species with green, white, red, and
blue flowers ; the white increasing in number as we approach
the Pole.

224 COLOURS OF FLOWERS.

Dividing the flora into twenty parts, we may ascribe to each
colour, and its various tints, the following proportion : —

Yellow, .

6.0

Red,

3-50

Green,

4-5°

Blue,

1.50

White,

4.0

Black,

0.50

The analogy between the parts or petals of the corolla and
the leaf, is perhaps not quite so striking as between the leaf
and the sepals of the calyx. The phrase " rose-leaves " is an
expression consecrated by immemorial usage. Why not prefer
the term "corollary leaves or leaflets (foliola)" to that of
petals ?

The corollary leaves, or petals, are organised like true leaves.
They have the same system of venation ; their lamina corre-
spond to the " limb," or " blade ;" and their unguis, or " claw,"
to the "petiole," or stalk. (See Fig. 46, a.)
The upper margin of petals is frequently
more obtuse than the overspreading mar-
gin of the blade of a leaf, which, in most
cases, is pointed. Non-tmguiculate petals

FIG. 46, a. — Unguis of the , .. . /T,. ,. ,\

Corolla. represent the sessile leaves. (Fig. 46, b.)

FIG. 46, b.— A Sessile

Petal. Their form is much more vaned than that

of the calicinal foliola, which are never unguiculate or petio-
lated.

The petal is defined as regular when its two halves,
folded one upon another at the midrib, exactly cover each
other ; in the opposite case it is called irregular. In certain
species, the petals are furnished with characteristic append-

ABOUT THE PETAL. 225

ages. But observe, these appendages, which generally affect
the form of a spur, have no character of generality, Thus,
for example, in the violet, a single petal is prolonged into a
spur below its point of attachment ; in larkspur, and the other
Delphiniums ', there are two which terminate in the same man-
ner; in the Aquilegia vulgaris, all the t petals are calcarate
(calcar, a spur).

According as the veins of the petal proceed in a straight
or curved direction, its limb may be flat, or concave, or hol-
lowed like a boat — i.e., cymbiform (cymba, a boat), or naviculate
(navis, a ship), or like a spoon, cochleariform (cochleare, a spoon).
When the spur is very short, as in Antirrhinum and Valerian,
the corolla or petal is termed gibbous (gibbus, a swelling), or
saccate at the base.

If a petal continue narrow, so as to seem formed by the
prolongation of the claw, it is called linear', if the limb be
prolonged below, so as to form two lobes, it is cordate, as in
Genista caudicans ; or if the lobes be acute, it may be sagittate
or hastate.

The number of petals varies from two to twelve, and more.
A corolla with a single petal, unipetalous, which we must not
confound with the monqpetalous corolla, is a monstrosity, created
by defective development; the other petals or foliola are
abortive. A corolla with two petals, or dipetalous, as in
Circcea Lutetiana, is rare. A tripetalous corolla occurs only
when the calyx has likewise three foliola. But in this in-
stance opinions are divided : the majority will not admit more

p

226 ABOUT THE COROLLA.

than a single floral envelope, — a perianth of six foliola, of
which three, herbaceous and internal, alternate with three
petaloid and external.

Many of our aquatic plants may be quoted as examples :
such as the Butomus umbellatus, or flowering rushj the little
frog-bit, or Hydrocharis morsus rana • and the water plantain,
Alisma plantago.

The tetrapdalous (or four-petalled) corolla is usually arranged
like a cross, and is much more frequent than the dipetalous or
tripetalous ; for examples, we need only refer to the large and
important family of the Cruciferae.

The number five (pentapetalous) is still more common ; but
we meet with it in other organs besides petals, and it seems
particularly characteristic of the vegetable kingdom.

Thus, all the Umbelliferse have five sepals, five petals, and
five stamens ; in all the Crassulaceae, the number five applies,
not only to the sepals and the petals, as well as to the stamens,
but also to the carpels which compose the ovary.

Corollas with six, eight, nine, ten, or twelve petals are rela-
tively rarer; and when the petals become so numerous that
we cannot count them, we have to deal with transformations
of stamens into petals, with those monstrosities of cultivation
which we call double flowers, flores pleni, where all the male
organs have disappeared, — flowers wholly unfit for fructification.

The petals of the corolla are not always free. Like those
of the calyx, they may be attached to one another by their
edges, but this union invariably takes place, as in the former,
from bottom to top. Therefore, we never see any petals

FURTHER EXPLANATIONS. 227

united at the top, and disengaged at the bottom (see Fig. 47,
a.) But the reader must take careful note that this invariable
characteristic is not peculiar only to the floral ^

envelopes j it is not met with in the stamens,
for these may be united, either by their anthers,
as in the whole family of the Synantherae, or
by their filaments, as in the Leguminosae.

AJ1 , • j r , i v FIG. 47, a. — Natural

And what we have said of the stamens applies junction of Petal.

also to the parts constituting the pistil. This l^47
radical difference between the perianth and sible)Junction-
the true reproductive organs ought, from the beginning, to
have fixed the attention of botanists on the centripetal and
centrifugal metamorphosis of the leaf, which we have spoken
of in "The Circle of the Year."

In many plants we are permitted to follow step by step,
as it were, the union of the petals, and their definitive trans-
formation into what is called the monopetalous corolla. The
term monopetaloid ought then to be rejected, if we are to
believe that the monopetalous corolla is the result of the meta-
morphosis of a single leaf. The word gamopetalous, or, rather,
gamophyllous, is preferable. As we have remarked in refer-
ence to the calyx, we shall here repeat that the expressions
bilobed, trilobed^ quadrilobed, or bipartite, tripartite, quadripartite
corollas, are radically vicious, because they are the consequence
of a false point of view, according to which the monopetalous
corolla will be simply a single metamorphosed leaf, susceptible
of being more or less deeply divided from top to bottom.

228 VARIETIES OF THE COROLLA.

The polypetalous corolla, as well as the gamophyllous
corolla, may be regular or irregular, according as the foliola
are equally or unequally united. But here again we must be
careful not to lay down too absolute rules. Examine, for
instance, the gamophyllous corolla of the gentians ; their two
lobes are very unequal, and yet the corolla is regular : five
very large lobes alternate with five very small, in such wise
that each of the latter is situated between two larger lobes.
Each division of the corolla of the periwinkle is irregular,
and yet the aggregate of their divisions is regular : these are
all of the same form and the same size.

In the gamophyllous corolla we are able to discern, through
the different forms it assumes, the form of the parts which
compose the union. Thus, for example, the tubulate corolla
supposes the pre-existence of unguiculate petals. \ '

Inequality of union produces the bilabiate corolla, which is
invariably tubular. This is the case in the natural family of
the Labiatse. The upper lip is composed of two petals, and
the lower of three. The parts of the upper are sometimes
so closely joined that they appear to be but one, as in the
Lamium; and the lower often becomes quadrilobed by the
division of the middle petal, as in the Stacha.

In the labiated corolla, the mouth of the tube is open,
while in the personate or masked (persona, a mask) it is
closed by the pressure of the lower lip against the upper ; as
in Snapdragon and Frogsmouth, the projection of the lower
lip being called the palate. By this feature the family of

A CAUSE OF CONFUSION. 229

the Scrophulariaceae is easily distinguished from that of
the Labiatse.

In some corollas, the two lips are hollowed out in a
very singular fashion, as in the Calceolaria; assuming a
" slipper-like appearance," similar to what takes place in the
labellum of certain orchids, — to wit, the Cypripedium. These
calceolate (calceolus, a slipper) corollas may be looked upon as
consisting of two slipper-like lips.

The forms of the bilabiate, tubular, and ligulose florets,
of the capitula of the Synantherae, are likewise due to simple
differences of union. The floscular capitulum comprises the
tubular florets, and the semi-floscular capitulum, the ligulate
florets; the radiate capitulum consists of florets ligulate or
bilabiate at the circumference, and of tubular florets over the
rest of the receptacle. By considering the capitula, as the
vulgar do, to be flowers, Tournefort introduced considerable
confusion into the nomenclature of the Synantherae.

SUMMER FLOWERS.
*' Dawn, gentle flower,

From the morning earth !
We will gaze and wonder
At thy wondrous birth 1

" Bloom, gentle flower,
Lover of the light,
Sought by wind and shower,
f ondled by the night ! " *

J3arry Cornwall

23°

A WAYSIDE FLOWER.

THE PRUNELLA, OR SELF-HEAL.

In your summer-walks, dear reader, — summer-walks through
green lanes rejoicing in the shade of over-arching elms, or

Off)

FIG. 48. — " Rejoicing in the shade of over-arching elms."

along woodland glades, carpeted with odorous turf, — you must
frequently have met with an herbaceous plant, whose purple-
blue flowers, arranged in regular succession, form the prettiest

THE "SELF-HEAL:

23 l

coloured cones imaginable at the extremity of the stem and
branches. To this plant, the self-heal, we shall return imme-
diately. Perhaps you have passed it by somewhat indif-
ferently, for we pay little heed to common things, and on the
threshold of woods, and in their winding avenues, the self-heal
is very common. The celebrated German botanist, Bock (or
Tragus) bestowed upon it, two centuries before the epoch of
Linnaeus, the name of Prunella vulgaris. The specific appel-
lation, vulgaris, is here employed very appropriately, but we
should commit a grave error if we supposed every species
qualified as vulgaris to be " common." For example, the
Lysimachia vulgaris, a species of Primulaceae, is far from being
found everywhere.

Pray, take the trouble to pick one lowly specimen ; being
specially careful to take up the whole plant,
stem, root, and branch. Lying along the
ground, it seems larger than it really is. Its
root is a creeper ; at the level of the insection
of the leaves some small shoots project, the
fibrous radicles which compel the lower part
of the stem to crawl like the bugle, Ajuga
reptans.

Does the prunella belong to the family of
Labiatae, like the bugle ?

See for yourself. The stem is quadrangular ; the branches
and leaves composed of two lips. The stamens are four in
number, two of which are longer than the others ; finally, by
means of a lens, you can easily distinguish, at the very bottom

FIG. 49.— The
Prunella.

232 ANALYSIS OF THE FLOWER.

of the calyx, four tiny seeds (a tetrachcenium) grouped around
the style. These features indicate that our plant belongs, in
effect, like the bugle, to the Labiatae family.

But mark the difference. In the bugle, as in all the
species of the same genus (Ajugd), as well as in all the
Teucriums — of which wild sage (Teucrium scorodonid) is the
most widely-diffused type — in all the Labiatse, the corolla
is apparently unilabiate, — that is to say, the upper lip is
so shortened that only the lower is prominently visible.
This is not the case with our self-heal: it is distinctly bi-
labiate. The upper lip of the corolla here forms a positive
hood, sufficiently ample to protect the didynamous stamens
(two long and two short), as in Fig. 50, a ; the lower lip is
a b three-lobed, and the central lobe is

largest of the three. By separating
the two lips, you can see the two
short stamens fixed to the base of the
lower one, and the two long attached to the central part of the
upper. (See Fig. 50, b.)

Let us pursue the analysis of the flowery cone you hold in
your hand.

The least practical eye is immediately struck by the arrange-
ment of the parts and the variety of the colours. To recognise
these things more thoroughly, please to cast your glances alter-
nately from the top to the base, and from the base to the apex
of its terminal flower. A little below the base you will see a
pair of opposite, entire, and sinuous leaves, with shorter stalks
than any of the others. The base is defined by two opposite,

SOME INTERESTING PECULIARITIES. 233

whitish, and nearly triangular leaves, with green points. The
top of the floral spike is likewise marked by a couple of bracts;
but these are much smaller, and red-coloured, like the two
leaves of the calyx. The interval is occupied by bracts, which
diminish in size from the base to the top of the spike ; on a
level with each pair six flowers are inserted, three for each
bract.

The flowers, thus arranged by whorls, present some inter-
esting peculiarities. The lower and upper show only their
reddish calices ; the middle, for the most part, display both
a calyx and a corolla, varying from blue to pale-rose, which
gives the plant a very peculiar appearance. In the under
flowers, the corolla has already fallen ; by separating the lips
of the calyx, you may catch sight of the tetrachaenium, that
is, the four-seeded fruit, which is developed at the bottom of
the tube. In the upper flowers, the corolla is not yet ex-
panded. It resembles a small deep-coloured globe ; you may
say an eye, a bull's-eye, which, from the depths of the calyx,
regards you with a piercing glance. Hence, perhaps, the
French name for this plant, prunelle, an eye.

We often meet with a variety of self-heal with a white
corolla, green calyx, and pinnatifid leaves, a variety of which
some botanists have erroneously made a separate species,
under the name of Prunella alba. It is equally wrong, in our
opinion, to convert the large-flowered variety into a distinct
species, by taking as its specific character the lateral cleft of
the upper lip of the caly overlapping the middle cleft ; for

234 ITS MEDICINAL PROPERTIES.

this same characteristic is found in many individuals of the
common species. The dentiform appendage which the two
longest stamens exhibit at the top of their filaments is also
an uncertain feature ; you must have recourse to your magni-
fying-glass to see if this appendage is obtuse and very short,
as in the large-flowered prunella, or sharp, as in the common
species. As for the size of the corolla, it is, in fact, very
marked ; but, as a characteristic, is wholly insufficient. The
creation of the varieties Pinnatifida, Laciniifolia, and Integrifolia
is no better justified. For it is no rare thing to see on the same
stalk, at different heights, pinnatifid, whole, and laciniate leaves.

The prunella is remarkable for the long hairs which garnish
the calyx, and, principally, the edges of the bracts. Examined
in the microscope, they assume the form of tiny, pointed
bamboos ; the knots bulge out a little, and the intervals are
punctuated.

The botanists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
are by no means sparing in their eulogiums on the marvellous
virtues of our flower, which, by the way, Bock (Tragus) was
the first to figure with tolerable accuracy.*

Tournefort thus dwells upon its medicinal properties : —

" It forms an ingredient in arquebusade water and vul-
nerary potions. It is ordered in possets and broths, in
apozemes for the spitting of blood, dysentery, haemorrhages,
and the like. It has also been used for ulcers in the mouth,
and a remedy against headaches ; after being mixed with rose-
oil and vinegar, the temples were bathed with it."

* Tragus, " Historia Stirpium," p. 310 (ed. 1552).

THE SCUTELLARIA. 235

In the Pharmacopoeia of to-day, however, it finds no
place.

THE SCUTELLARIA.

At the first glance, the Scutellaria has no resemblance to
the prunella. Yet the classificators have united these plants
in one small tribe, under the name of Scutellarinacea. These
are the characters which they give to them : Lower or an-
terior stamens longer than the superior or posterior; calyx
closed at maturity by the approximation of the two lips.
The latter character is not nearly so marked in the prunella
.as in the scutellaria.

The two commonest species of scutellaria in England are
the Scutellaria galericulata and Scutellaria minor. They do not
inhabit the same localities. The former,
which is at the same time the commonest,
grows on the river-banks, and especially
delights in the mould accumulated in the
hollow trunks of old willows. It is easily
known by its tender blue corolla, but espe-
cially by its calyx, which, after the fall of
the corolla, develops itself in a singular
manner. If you compress its sides, it will
open so as to disclose, at the bottom of its
throat, its seeds, which are white, red, or brown, according to
their degrees of maturity. (Fig. 5 2, a.) Now look at these two
jaws: the upper resembles a small helmet (Lat. galericuld), or, if
you prefer it, a judge's cap. As for the lower, it has exactly the

236 VARIOUS SPECIES.

shape of a shield (Lat. scutum), — whence its name, scutellaria.
(Fig. 52, b.) Thus, the emblems of military and judicial rank
are found united in the calyx of our pretty labiate.

a b The second species (Scutellaria minor), rarer

JL than the former, is met with on the banks of
™ ponds and in damp woodland paths. It attracts

FIG. 52.— Calyx of

the Scutellaria. your gaze by its tiny caps or helmets : the mo-
ment you see it, you exclaim, " That 's a scutellaria ! " More
diminutive in all its parts than its congener, it is also distin-
guished by its whole leaves (they are crenelated or dentate in
the Scutellaria galericulata), by its soft, rose-hued corolla, with
brown lips coquettishly pointed with red, and by its hairy
calyx.

The Scutellaria Columns * is very rare. It may be recog-
nised by its erect stems and flowers of a bright violet hue,
arranged in terminal spikes and garnished with bracts ; while
the flowers are axillary, and form no spike, in the two species
above described.

The Scutellaria were first described with accuracy and classi-
fied by Linnseus, who included them among his Didynamia, a
class of vegetables distinguished by the unequal length of the
stamens.

THE FORGET-ME-NOT.

" Ye field flowers ! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true ;
Yet, wildlings of nature, I dote upon you,
For ye waft me to summers of old,

* Fabius Columna (Fabio Colonna), an Italian man of science, who
died in 1650, at the age of eighty-three.

THE FORGET-ME-NOT.

237

When the earth beamed around me with fairy delight,
And daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight,
Like treasures of silver and gold.

FIG. 53. — "A loved little island, far seen in the lake."

" Even now, what affections the violet awakes !
What loved little islands, far seen in the lakes,

Can the wild water-lily restore !
What landscapes I read in the primrose's looks !
What pictures of pebbles and minnowy brooks

In the vetches that tangle the shore ! " *

* Thomas Campbell.

238 A PICTURE FOR A POET.

" How beautiful," says Miss Pratt, in one of her agreeable
little books,* — "how beautiful are the little islands of the
stream, edged with the tall white meadow sweet, which sends
its perfume far up over the green lands that lie around, and
contrasts with the deep blue colour of the purple loose-strife !
The willow herb, or codlins-and-cream, as the children call it,
grows in perfection there ; and there, too, bloom the little
yellow water-flag, and the vetches, and the rich water-lily,
which, seated on its round leaf, seems to swim over the crystal
stream. The water-plantain, with its numerous small pink
blossoms, grows in thick clusters quite down in the water,
mingling with the white flowers and large spear-shaped leaves
of the arrow-head, or half shading the large cup of the yellow
water-lily. Then, too, the blue-eyed forget-me-not covers the
little isles in such abundance that many of them well deserve
the name of azure islands. The water-rat hides among the
flowers, nibbling with much glee at the arrow-head, or rushing
out from under its broad green leaves; and the water-fowl,
followed by her young, sails across the stream in all the state-
liness of matron dignity ; and the little meek-eyed daisy grows
beside the yellow velvet flower of the silver-weed, or the blue
blossoms and succulent leaves of the brook-lime."

The true Forget-me-not, Myosotis palustris, is invariably
found in marshy localities or on the banks of streams; but
the Meadow Scorpion-grass, Myosotis arvensis, is frequently
mistaken for it. The "genuine article" has a bright blue
blossom, much smaller than, but in shape something resem-
* Anne Pratt, "Flowers and their Associations" (ed. 1846).

WHA T IS MYOSOTIS ! 239

bling, the primrose ; in its bract it has a drop of gold, and on
each segment of the coloured portion of the flower is a small
streak or fleck of white.

Both the true forget-me-not and the false belong to the
Borage family, or Boraginacese, which includes sixty-seven
known genera, and nearly nine hundred species.

It is said that after the battle of Waterloo, a remarkable
number of forget-me-nots sprung up all over the fatal field.
The circumstance might well be made the theme of a poet's lay,
were it not for a suspicion that the little blue flowers belonged to
the Myosotis arvensis species, and not to the Myosotis palustris.

But why Myosotis ? This Greek compound surely means
"mouse-ear," and what have these plants to do with the
auricular organs of mice? Why, their leaves were supposed
to resemble in form the ear of Mus domesticus. The name of
"scorpion-grass" originated in the fact that the top of the
stem coils round while the buds are unblown, like a scorpion's
tail. It is strange how quick the common people have been
to detect these analogies, and to perpetuate them in the appel-
lations they have bestowed on the flowers of the meadow, the
wood, and the green lane.

The singularly beautiful name of the Myosotis palustris —
we mean its common and non-scientific name, — is ascribed, in
a well-known German legend, to the dying knight who, having
ventured at a dangerous spot to pluck a handful of the bright
blue blossoms for his lady-love, fell into the stream, and as
he sank, flung the dear-bought spoil towards her, exclaiming,
" Forget me not ! "

240 THE BORAGINACE^E.

A more probable origin is suggested by Miss Strickland.
"Henry of Lancaster (Henry IV.)," she says, "appears to
have been the person who gave it its emblematical and
poetical meaning, by uniting it, at the period of his exile,
with the initial letters of his watchword, Souveigne vous de moi;
thus rendering it the symbol of remembrance, and, like the
subsequent fatal roses of York and Lancaster and Stuart,
the lily of Bourbon, and the violet of Napoleon, an historical
flower."

We have said that the scorpion-grass belongs to the natural
family Boraginaceae, which receives its name from the common
borage, a bright blue flower with very rough leaves. All its
members are rough or hairy, except those which, like the
forget-me-not, become smooth from living partly under water.
The black stalks of the borage burn, it is said, like match-
paper, and its root enters largely into the composition of
rouge. Its flowers were at one time held in great respect as
a wholesome bitter ingredient for a tankard of ale. Accord-
ing to Pliny, "if the leaves and flowers of the borage be
immersed in wine, and that wine drunken, the potion will
make men blithe and merry, and drive away all heavy sadness
and dull melancholy."

Burton, in his " Anatomy of Melancholy/' also says of it —

" Borage and hellebore fill two scenes,
Sovereign plants to purge the veins
Of melancholy, and cheer the heart
Of those black fumes which make it smart."

THE LILY OF THE VALLEY. 241

Most of the Boraginaceae are weeds, but they include a few
ornamental garden-flowers ; as, for example, the Peruvian
heliotrope — the "cherry-pie" of the children — which is well
known for the fragrance of its blue blossoms. Its Greek name
refers to an ancient belief that it always " turned " to meet the
sun ; but neither heliotrope nor sunflower exhibits any such
devotedness towards the great " orb of day." The poet's
comparison —

' ' As the sunflower turns to his God, when he sets,
The same look that he turned when he rose" —

is very pretty and suggestive, but unfortunately it is not true.

THE LILIES.

Are we justified in classing these among our summer
flowers ? Well, the lily of the valley may, perhaps, be more
justly claimed by Spring, as it generally unveils its beauty in
the month of May; but the water-lily belongs to Summer;
and, at all events, it will be most convenient to speak of them
in this category.

The lily of the valley ( Convallaria majalis\ — the May-lily
of old writers, — has long been a favourite type of retiring
modesty and tender loveliness. It affects the silence and soli-
tude of the woodlands, where, in the shadow of broad leaves
and sweeping branches, the inquiring botanist discovers —

" Like detected light,
Its little green-tipt lamps of white."

242 THE ll LIL Y OF THE FIELD."

Shakspeare, who neglected nothing, refers to its gentle
humility of attitude :—

" Shipwrecked upon a kingdom where no pity,
No friends, no hope, no kindred weep for me ;
Almost no grave allowed me ! like the lily
That once was mistress of the field, and flourished,
I '11 hang my head and perish."

Our lily is a native of cold and temperate countries, and
never shakes its pendant bells at the bidding of a hot Eastern
breeze. It is very abundant in Norway. That agreeable
writer and observant traveller, Henry Inglis, says : — " It stood
everywhere around, scenting the air, and in such profusion,
that it was scarcely possible to step without bruising its tender
stalks and blossoms. I have not seen this flower mentioned
in any enumeration of Norwegian plants, but it grows in all
the western parts of Norway in latitude 59° and 60°, wherever
the ground is free from forest, in greater abundance than any
other wild-flower."

As it will not live in hot countries, it cannot be the " lily of
the field " which furnished our Saviour with so fruitful a text
for warning and instruction. This, in all probability, was the
yellow amaryllis, or Amaryllis lutea, a flower bearing some
resemblance to our yellow crocus, but much larger, and with
broader leaves. Its delicate blossoms escape from an undi-
vided spathe, or sheath, and are bell-shaped, with six clefts
and six stamens, which are alternately short and long. The
flower seldom rises more than three or four inches above the
soil, accompanied by green leaves, which, after the flowering

THE WATER-LILY. 243

has passed, continue to preserve their freshness throughout the
winter.

But some authorities are not content with the yellow ama-
lyllis, and put forth as the true " lily of the field," either the
narcissus, or the golden lily, or the stately crinum, according
to their several tastes.

Not connected with these flowers by any botanical relation-
ship, and surpassing them all in beauty, is the Water-lily
(Nymphcza alba), whose large round leaves and full white
blossoms are the glory of so many of our secluded lakes
and quiet streams. Everybody knows old Izaak Walton's
quaint eulogium on the strawberry : " Doubtless God could
have made a better fruit, but doubtless He never hath." In
like manner I am inclined to say : " Doubtless God might
have created a fairer flower, but doubtless He never hath."
Alas ! like most things rare and beautiful, its existence is very
brief! pluck it, and straightway it vanishes, — like a poet's
dream, the moment he attempts to realise it.

It is sometimes asserted of our wild water-lily that it retires
below the surface of the stream shortly after noon, remaining in
the liquid depths during night, and rising again into the light
of day at early dawn. Those who are acquainted with the
haunts and habits of these beautiful flowers know that this is not
strictly correct, as they may often be seen, " by the pale moon-
light," lying folded above the water. It is not impossible,
however, that some may sink ; and certain it is, that as the sun
sets they close their silver vases.

244

•A PLEASANT PICTURE.

*' Broad-leaved are they, and their white canopies
Are upward turned to catch the heaven's dew."

So says Keats ; but this is true only while the sun is asserting
his supremacy in the azure sky. And then, the spectacle of
a calm, rush-fringed pool, nestling in the shadow of some
ancient elms or drooping willows, and brightened by the

FIG. 54. — " Brightened by the uplifted cups of our delicate naiads."

uplifted cups of our delicate naiads, is a scene of surpass-
ing beauty. We turn from this favourite flower regretfully,
" murmuring," as novelists say, Mrs Hemans's graceful apos-
trophe : —

" Oh ! beautiful thou art,
Thou sculpture-like and stately river queen,
Crowning the depths as with the light serene
Of a pure heart !

THE YELLOW WATER-LILY. 245

" Bright lily of the wave !
Rising in fearless grace with every swell,
Thou seem'st as if a spirit meekly brave
Dwelt .in thy cell!"

Permit me, reader, another quotation. I take it from your
and my favourite, Wordsworth : —

" Rapturously we gather flowery spoils
From land and water ; lilies of each hue,
Golden and white, that float upon the waves,
And court the wind."

The lily of golden hue, the yellow water-lily, is the Nuphar
lutea of botanists. The country people, on account of its
peculiar scent, most unpoetically call it "brandy-bottle." It
is far more plentiful than the regal nymphsea ; its flower is not
so full of petals ; and it is by no means so handsome. Yet,
with its smooth, glossy leaves, and golden cups, and long
floating stems, it favourably attracts the eye. We are told
that "its roots are nutritious, and are frequently powdered
and eaten for bread in Sweden ; " that, mixed with the bark
of the Scotch fir, they form a cake much relished by the
Swedes ; in which case the Swedish palate certainly cannot
be censured as fastidious. "These roots are also burnt on
the hearths of farmhouses, because their smoke is reputed to
drive away the crickets, whose chirping is sometimes too loud
and shrill to be deemed musical." Assuredly this is untrue of
many parts of England, as the cricket is popularly supposed
to be " lucky," and no old country-wife would allow it to be
driven away from her sanctum.

246 THE EASTERN WATER-LILY.

The water-lily of the East, the beautiful Lotus, — the Nelum-
bium spedosum, which is figured on so many Egyptian and
Indian monuments, — is rich in blue and red, as well as in
white blossoms. These are said to sink quite below the
surface in the evening and during the night shadows ; whence
Moore says of them, with his artificial prettiness —

" Those virgin lilies, all the night

Bathing their beauties in the lake,
That they may rise more fresh and bright
When their beloved sun's awake."

It was formerly abundant on the Nile, and the Egyptians
consecrated it to their supreme god, Osiris ; but, with the
splendour and mysticism of ancient Egypt, it has completely
passed away.

But it is scarcely less prized by the Hindus, who have also
consecrated it to one of their deities. A traveller thus speaks
of the sacred Ganges in connexion with it : — " The rich and
luxuriant clusters of the lotus float in quick succession upon
the silvery current. Nor is it the sacred lotus alone which
embellishes the wavelets of the Ganges ; large white, yellow,
and scarlet flowers pay an equal tribute ; and the prows of the
numerous native vessels navigating the stream are garlanded
by long wreaths of the most brilliant daughters of the parterre.
India may be called a paradise of flowers : the most beautiful
lilies grow spontaneously upon the sandy shores of the rivers,
and from every projecting cliff some shrub dips its flowers in
the waters below."

THE LOTUS-EATERS. 247

No reader of English poetry but is familiar with Tennyson's
" Lotus-Eaters " — -a poem founded on the old myth of a people
who lived upon the insane root that takes the reason prisoner,
and, beguiled by its sweet intoxication, abandoned themselves
to a state of dreamy repose.

" And round about the keel with faces pale,
Dark faces, pale against that rosy flame,
The mild-eyed, melancholy Lotus-eaters carnc.

" Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them,
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far, far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores ; and if his fellow spake,
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave ;
And deep asleep he seemed, yet all awake,
And music in his ears his beating heart did make.

"They sat them down upon the yellow sand,
Between the sun and moon upon the shore ;
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,
Of wife, and child, and slave ; but evermore
Most weary seemed the sea, weary the oar,
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.
Then some one said, ' We will return no more j '
And all at once they sang, ' Our island home
Is far beyond the wave ; we will no longer roam.' "

But the lotus of poetry is not the NelumUum speciosum.
There is some difficulty in identifying it with any modern
plant ; but the general opinion seems to be, that it was the
Zizyphus lotus, a species allied to the Zizyphus jujuba, and
included in the Buckthorn family (Rhamnacea).

248 THE GARDEN-LILY.

The reader will be by this time aware that of the plants
called by the general English name of " lily," some have very
little kinship to each other, and others none at all. The little
garden flowers named Lilium (from the Celtic word /is, " white-
ness ") are mostly very handsome. Ben Jonson, speaking of
the ordinary lily, says, very finely —

" It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be,
Or standing long, an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear :
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night,—
It was the plant and flower of light. "

The white garden-lily is a native of the Levant, but has
become thoroughly naturalised in England, and is one of the
commonest but most admired ornaments of our cottage-gardens.
The old herbalists thought highly of its medicinal properties,
and pronounced it a certain remedy for the bite of a serpent.
It is true, at all events, that its bruised petals are an excellent
cure for any ordinary wound or bruise.

Our ancestors, among their other superstitious fancies, enter-
tained the extraordinary belief that the price of a bushel of
wheat in the ensuing season was foretold by the number of
white cups which crowned the white lily's stem, each cup being
estimated at one shilling. I opine that our modern farmers
would feel dissatisfied if the Mark Lane averages were regulated
by this simple standard.

SU3-ORDEKS OF THE LIL Y FAMIL K 249

The common Turk's-cap lily (Lilium martagon) is identified
with the ancient hyacinth, the " sanguine flower inscribed with
woe." The orange lily (Lilium bulbiferum) is a native of
Southern Europe. When the Dutch were at feud with the
House of Orange, they were accustomed to root up this

FIG. 55.— Lily of the Valley.

flower from their gardens, as some solace to their indignant
feelings.

The garden lilies belong to the natural family of the Liliaccce,
which includes the following sub-orders : —

1. Tulipece, tulip tribe; bulbous plants, with the segments
of the perianth scarcely adherent in a tube.

2. Hemerocallidea, day-lily tribe; bulbous plants, with a
tubular perianth.

250 THE GENTIANS.

3. Sdttecz, or Allies^ squill or onion tribe; bulbous, with
black and brittle testa.

4. Anthericea or Asphodelecz, asphodel tribe j roots fascicled
or fibrous, leaves neither coriaceous nor permanent.

5. Convottariea, lily of the valley tribe ; stem developed as
a rhizome or tuber.

6. Asparagece. asparagus tribe ; stem usually fully developed,
arborescent, branched in some cases, and leaves frequently
permanent and coriaceous.

7. Alonietz, aloes tribe ; stem usually developed, arborescent,
with succulent leaves.

8. Aphyllanthece, grass-tree tribe ; characterised by a rush-
like habit and membranous imbricated bracts.

THE GENTIANS.

Let me now direct your attention, reader, to a pretty plant,
of very elegant appearance : crowned, as it is, by a cluster of
rosy flowers, it would not disgrace our well-kept parterres. It is
called the common Centaury {Erythrcza centaur iuni). You will
never see it in the fields side by side with the Delphinium ;
but in July and August will meet with it frequently on the
borders of woodland paths and open glades.

Would you create for yourself by the study of nature a
source of enjoyment equally pure and inexhaustible, adopt
a method of classification for your own use, and, to facilitate
you in the task, take for your types those plants which are at
once the commonest and most characteristic of each season.
Quite at your ease, you may begin your analysis by examining

USES OF ANAL YSIS. 25 1

the parts which, like the calyx and the corolla, most attract
your attention. The most rational plan, however, would be,
to commence with the seed, and to follow it through all the
wonderful phases of its life, from the development of the
embryo to the maturity of the fruit. Unfortunately, we are
all compelled to take time into account; time is so much
more precious than money, — it is the measurement of our
existence. Undoubtedly, the mind, with its gigantic strides,
like those of an Homeric god, tends to overleap the confines
both of time and space. But the senses, without whose co-
operation the intellect could not create science, never fail
to remind us that we are, alas ! but mortals. By this in-
cessant appeal to order, we are under the necessity of doing,
not what we would, but what we can. And the part we really
play is, consequently, much more modest than that which we
love to imagine ourselves as playing.
But to return to our flowers.

What see you in the little centaury which you hold in your
hand? (Fig. 56.)

In the first place, a corolla with five petals of a delicate rose-
hue, very pleasant to the sight.

Take care ! those foliola are not/dfc/r, if you give that name
to the free parts of the corolla. Look at them thoroughly.
Your foliola are prolonged at their base in a narrow tube,
which is easily removed. If you had begun here, — if, instead
of proceeding from the top to the bottom, you had, in your
analysis, proceeded from the bottom to the top, you would

252 POLL 0 WING NA TURE.

have acquired a wholly different view of things. You would
have said that the corolla is tubular, greenish,
with a rosy limb, deeply divided into five
lobes. And in so doing, you would have
run no risk of deceiving yourself. The in-
dications given by Nature herself are the
most precious ; they are the lessons of a
teacher who cannot err : never pass them
by with indifference or neglect. In your
study of the different parts of a vegetable,

Fro. 57.— The Com-
mon Centaury. follow, as far as possible, the actual move-
ment of the sap.

The calyx of our gentian has, like its corolla, the form of a
five-divided tube ; which, indeed, is one of the usual characters
of the Gentian family.

But it is important here to take notice of this fact, because
it is not, as at first sight you would suppose, the corolla, but
the calyx, which encircles the base of the ovary. The tube of
the corolla stops towards the middle of the latter organ, and
nearly on a level with the linear divisions of the calyx. You
must be careful not to confound with these calycine divisions
the green foliola which lie around the base of the flower, and
which are neither more nor less than abortive leaves.

Now call to mind that the flower is an union of concentric
whorls, or of rings set one within another. The staminal whorl
and the carpellary whorl, surrounded by a double perianth
(corolla and calyx), are here composed — the first, of five sta-
j and the second of a bi-lobed ovary, surmounted by a

THEORY VERSUS OBSERVATION. 253

twisted style. We may now examine more closely the repro-
ductive organs.

The stamens are inserted upon the top of the tube of the
corolla, and if you look at the base of their filaments you
would be inclined to pronounce it a foliaceous expansion, or,
rather, a metamorphic doubling of the corolla. Suppose the
stamens to be the result of the transformation of the petals, the
filament would be the " claw," and the anther the " limb " of
a foliole. At least, theory would tell you so. But observation
will show that these are not petals changing into stamens, but,
on the contrary, stamens changing into petals ; as is seen in
the sterile (or " double ") flowers of many of our ornamental
plants, and even of some of our fruit trees. How, then,
shall we conciliate theory with observation ? Look, and
you shall find.

Observe the anthers which surmount the filaments. There
is something peculiarly characteristic in them. As they open
and spread abroad the pollen, they visibly coil themselves up
in the form of a spiral. (Fig. 58.) Owing to this twisting,
they are found more or less inclined upon their filaments, and
are gifted with a considerable mobility. Thoroughly to under-
stand the relation between the continuous anther and the fila-
ment, we must examine the stamens before their expansion,
while they are still folded up within the floral bud, their matrix.
The anthers are then quite straight, and, with a magnifying-
glass. you can easily see how they are inserted, by the lower
part of their back, upon the top of the filament, whose (so-

254 AN ALPINE PLANT.

called) connective prolongation separates the two lobes of the
pollen receptacle. The anthers are then introrse (introrsum^
inwardly) — that is to say, their face being inclined inwards, they
look towards the centre of the flower, occupied by the style, a
filiform prolongation of the ovary; the apex of
the style (stigma) is thick, globulose, and of a
FIG. 35.— glandular structure. The fruit, resulting from the

Anthers of the '

Centaury. metamorphosis of the ovary, is an elongated fusi-
form capsule, composed of two lobes, each containing a very
large number of extremely small seeds.

The characters we have just enumerated apply, or the
majority of them, to the interesting family of the Gentianacese
— a natural group of plants, nearly all remarkable for their
bitter, febrifugal, and anti-scrofulous properties. The flower-
ing cymes of the common centaury are very frequently em-
ployed as a substitute for the medicinal gentian, so well known
as a valuable tonic.

The medicinal gentian is the Gentiana lutea, — a plant
growing about three feet high, — which thrives abundantly on
the Pyrenees, and the Alps of Switzerland and Austria, at
an elevation of 3000 to 5000 feet. It is not, however, so
common now as formerly on the Alpine heights, owing pro-
bably to its great consumption, but it is spreading into many
districts of Central Europe.

Frequent enough in the vicinity of Paris is the Chlora
perforata, a gentian remarkable for its glaucous leaves and
yellow terminal flowers.

A LILLIPUTIAN GENTIAN. 255

The Gentiana kurroo of the Himalayas, and the British
species, Gentiana campestris and Gentiana amarella^ possess
the tonic properties of the family. The Cheritta of the
pharmacopoeia is the herb and root of Agathotes chirayta
(Ophelia ckirata), a herbaceous plant which flourishes in the
Himalayas.

We must not omit a reference to a Lilliputian gentian,
the filiform gentian of Linnaeus, and the Exacum filiforme or
Cicendia filiformis of other botanical authorities.

Its stem, from two and a half to four inches in length, is
embellished with radical oblong leaves, disposed in fours,
and short caulinary leaves, opposite and linear ; the corolla
is yellow, the calyx has four triangular lobes; the stamens
also are four. It is this predominant number which has
induced some botanists to elevate our little gentian into a
species of Exacum or Cicendia^ — two genera, of which the
first was named by Adamson, the second by De Candolle.
As for the tiny Gentiana pusilla, or Exacum pusillum, we
may look upon it as a simple variety of the Exacum filiforme,
differing from the latter only in its shorter and feebler stem, in the
somewhat narrower divisions of its calyx, and the tint of its
corolla, which is of a paler yellow, sometimes inclining to rose.

Botanists, or lovers of flowers, may grow as passionately
fond of gentians as some persons do of tulips or hyacinths.
But it is not in England or Scotland, it is in the Alpine pas-
tures of Switzerland only, that you can hope to satisfy your
Gentianomania.

256 AN ALPINE EXCURSION.

AN ALPINE EXCURSION.

Permit me, dear reader, to set down a few hints, in case
you should at any time be disposed to make a pilgrimage
into the Golden Land, or El Dorado, of botanists and geolo-
gists.

Before you plunge into the Alps, you will meet, in the sub-

FIG. 59. — An Alpine Landscape.

alpine regions, among the valleys which intersect and the
meadows which clothe the lower spurs of the Jura, the Gen-
tiana campestris. It is a plant of from five to six inches in
height, whose blue, five-lobed corolla, with its velvety gorge,
changes into yellow when dried ; the two outer teeth of the

THE DENT DE JAMAN. 257

calyx are elliptical, and much larger than the others. Your
attention will hardly be drawn to this tiny gentian among
the crowd of more beautiful and attractive plants blooming
around it.

One excursion which you should not fail to make is the
ascent of the Dent de Jaman, — the hieroglyphic summit of
one of those charming mountains which mirror themselves in
the Lake of Geneva. This classical, and, moreover, very
easy ascent, has the advantage of carrying you up a series
of terraces, so that the character of the vegetation changes
rapidly. The acclivity begins at the little town of Montreux,
situated near the point where the blue arrowy Rhone pours
its waters into the enchanted lake. From Montreux to the
village of Glion, you will be delighted to greet your old
acquaintances : the familiar faces of your native fields, mea-
dows, and woodlands. But soon a difference in the character
of the flora forces itself upon you. Species which are rarer at
home become tolerably common, as, for instance, the yellow
digitalis (Digitalis lutea), so easily recognised by its cymes of
tiny flowers. The vulneraria (Ant hy His vulnerarid) is as widely
diffused as the trefoil in our English pastures.

A little above Glion, — a picturesque village apparently hung
over the lake — the sub-alpine region commences. Around
villas and mansions, nearly all inhabited by English families,
you will find in abundance the English mercury (Chenopodium
Bonus Henricus\ and in the shady hedges the narcotic Herb-
Paris (Paris quadrifolid).

258 AROMA TIC HA Y.

The apparition of the Astrantia major> which resembles an
artificial or fancy-created flower, warns us that we are passing
beyond the limits of the ordinary flora. I believe that we
have no representative in England of that singular umbellifer.
The Alpine pastures of the narrow-ridged Mount Caii, which
resembles the back of a dromedary, exhale a fragrance like
that of the famous Swiss tea, so much extolled as a remedy
against cholera. The odour of the hay-lofts attached to the
chalets — true shepherd's huts — which rise at intervals along the
back of Mont Dromedary, is so penetrating as to produce
headache. The hay owes its aromatic fragrance to the musk-
chervil (Myrrhis odorata), whose strong stems form such thick
luxuriant pasturages ; to various orchideae, particularly to the
Nigritetta suaveolens, remarkable for the intense colour — nearly
black — of its flowers; and finally, to the gentians, whose
scent is strongly brought out by drying.

The rich close sward which borders on the Dent de Jaman
provides the herboriser with more than one agreeable surprise.
You will be struck by the beauty of the flowery tufts of the
Linaria Alpina, rejoicing in a deep sapphire blue. You will
also have an opportunity of making acquaintance with a
campanula which is abundant on Mont Cenis (Campanula
Ccenisia)-, its beautiful terminal flower, of a pale blue, is char-
acterised by the long hairs which line the opening of the corolla.

Among the gentians, those great ornaments of the Alpine
pasturages, we shall direct the attention of our readers to —

•THE ALPINE GENTIANS. 259

The purple gentian (Gentiana purpured), and the spotted
gentian (Gentiana punctata). These are distinguished by
their plentiful appearance : their large oval leaves, and the
height of their vigorous stems, recall those of the yellow
gentian. The features which separate these two species are
not very distinct : the corolla of the former is purple without
and yellow within ; that of the latter is of a bright yellow,
marked by spots of deep purple, which, however, are not
permanent ; the calyx is campanulated, with upright and
lanceolate foliola.

The Gentiana acaulis contrasts singularly with the preceding
species, its stem being so short that one is almost tempted
to deny the existence of any j its large corollas, of a bright
celestial blue, lie on the ground as if they had fallen
fresh from a bouquet. We must not confound this species
with the Gentiana pumila, a much smaller plant, with a very
elongated calyx, which grows abundantly on the turf of
Mont St Bernard.

The Gentiana verna and the Gentiana nivalis, with a corolla
of the finest azure, inhabit the loftiest points of the Alps, where
all vegetation begins to disappear. The former, or the gentian
of spring, flowers, in these frozen regions, in June and July ; it
is one of twenty-four phanerogamous plants of the last vegetable
station of Mont Blanc. This station is formed by a series of
vertical layers of protogene, which separates the upper part of
the Glacier des Bossons from that of Taconay. The debris of
the rock, decomposed under the influence of atmospheric

260 PHANEROGAMOUS PLANTS.

agencies, form, in the midst of the nevt, tiny flowering par-
terres— oases in the desert, islands in the vast ocean of ice and
snow. There, sheltered by the rocks, and warmed by the sun,
and refreshed by the snow, which rapidly melts in summer,
these pretty plants thrive and grow beautiful, though their brief
existence is summed up in a few short weeks.

According to Charles Martins, the phanerogamous plants
which flourish at an elevation of 10,000 feet are the fol-
lowing : —

Mean temperature, 47° to 36°.

1. Gentian a verna.

2. Silena acaulis.

3. Draba frigida.*

4. Draba fladnizensis.

5. Cardamine bellidifolia.

6. Cardamine resedifolia.

7. Potentilla frigida.

8. Phyteuma hemisphericum.

9. Pyrethrum Alpinum.

10. Erigeron uniflorum.

1 1 . Saxifraga bryoides.

12. Saxifraga Groenlandica.

13. Saxifraga muscoides.

14. Saxifraga oppositifolia.

15. Androsace Helvetica.

1 6. Androsace pubescens.

17. Lazula spicata.

1 8. Festuca Halleri.

19. Poa laxa. t

20. Poa caesia.

21. Poa Alpina.

22. Trisetum subspicatum.

23. Agrostis rupestris.

24. Carex nigra (Cariceae).

THE PIMPERNEL.

Accompany me to the corn-field; not for any discourse
upon the state and prospect of the crops, or on the compara-
tive value to man of wheat or barley, but for the sake of the

* Draba aretoides has been found on Chimborazo at 1 6,000 feet.
t Poa annua grows at an elevation of 7400 feet.

THE POOR MAN'S WEATHER-GLASS. 261

little red flower which shines like a star among the growing
harvest.

You cannot mistake it, for, with the exception of the tiny
chaff- weed, the smallest wild plant which bears a distinct flower,
it is the only scarlet blossom in the wheat-field, except, indeed,
the red poppy, which every good farmer seeks to banish from
his land. Mark me, — I say the only scarlet flower ; for there
are several — as, for instance, the pheasant's eye, or Adonis —
of a deep crimson.

The pimpernel belongs to the Primrose family, or Primu-
laceae. It has a five-cleft calyx, and a monopetalous corolla.
Its stamens, of an equal number, are inserted on the corolla,
opposite its segments. It is a meteoric flower ; so-called,
because it keeps itself shut during wet or cloudy weather.
Hence, it is known among country people as ^the shepherd's
warning" or "poor man's weather-glass." And Darwin,
enumerating the various signs of rain, says of it —

" Closed is the pink-eyed pimpernel ;
In fiery red the sun doth rise,
Then wades through clouds to mount the skies :
'Twill surely rain, we see 't with sorrow ;
No working in the fields to-morrow. "

It should be added, however, that if the rain continue for
several days, the pimpernel will lose its sensibility, and cease
to act as a natural weather-glass.

And here we may observe, that singular as is the habit of
the flowers anticipating rain by folding their petals within their
calices, the way which the Siberian sow-thistle has with it is

262 METEORIC FLOWERS.

still more curious. This plant, during that clear weather
which most flowers affect, keeps entirely shut ; but as soon
as a thick mist overspreads the earth, or a cloud obscures
the bright face of heaven, it begins to open its light blue
corolla.

Everybody knows, or should know, that when the robin
looks sad and drooping, and ceases to greet you with his
wonted blithesome strain, " foul weather " is at hand. Many
animals, by their peculiar habits, afford equally certain indica-
tions of approaching atmospheric changes.

This does not seem strange to us ; we account for it by the
instinct which every animal possesses, in a larger or smaller
degree. But the same anticipatory faculty is possessed by
several plants ; they feel the increasing moisture of the air long
before it can be detected by ourselves. Thus, when a storm
is at hand, some species of anemones fold up their blossoms j
the fragrant flowers of the wild pink convolvulus wind them-
selves together ; the awns of the wild oat, and the sweet-
scented meadow-grass, stand in an erect position, and the
clover leaves are drawn closely up.

Naturalists, says Pratt, are unable to discover why some
plants should be affected by moisture and others not; but
the regular changes of these natural barometers seem a pro-
vidential arrangement to supply certain wants of the flowers
in which they occtir. We may draw this inference from
the different positions of several flowers according to their
circumstances. Thus the poppy, when in bud, hangs down on
its stem, and preserves its petals from rain and wind ; but as

PROVISION OF CREATIVE POWER. 263

soon as it is fully developed, and has acquired strength, and
the sun's rays are necessary to perfect its colours, it expands
to the full light of day. The violet, again, while its seed is
forming, shades the capsule by its purple corolla ; but as soon
as the seeds are ripe, and they are required to spring to some
distance from their capsules, the flower immediately rises up
with the cup for its support, and flings abroad its offering
on the earth's maternal bosom. Adaptations of this kind are
frequent and striking in the vegetable kingdom, and surely
one is justified in regarding them as the work of an all-
powerful and all-wise Creative Mind. Look, for instance, at
the orchis : it grows on the ground in Europe, and is conse-
quently provided with roots formed of large lobes ; but when
it festoons the pillar of the virgin forests of the New World,
its roots are formed of a number of fibres, so that they may
penetrate the bark of the tree.

But to return to our pimpernel. It was at one time called
Centunculus, from cento, a covering, because it spread in such
abundance over the cultivated fields. Its botanical name was
afterwards changed to Anagallis arvensis. Anagallis signifies
" to laugh," and there existed an old belief that a decoction of
the pimpernel acted as a remedy against melancholy, and a
provocative of mirth.

The seeds of this plant are very numerous. They are
enclosed in small capsules, and eaten by the birds.

There is only one other British species of pimpernel,
the Anagallis linetta, or bog pimpernel, which it would be
unpardonable if the botanist omitted to notice, so delicately

264

THE BLUE PIMPERNEL.

beautiful are its pale-rose blossoms and tiny clusters of
leaves. As its name indicates, it is found only in marshy
localities.

The blue pimpernel (Anagallis ceruled), though not a native
of England, is found occasionally. It is described as growing
in beautiful little tufts about the hills of Madeira, and enliven-
ing them by its cheerful colour, which may bear comparison
with the azure of the sky.

FIG. 60.—" The Wheat-field, with its mass of emerald waves."

And here we will take leave of the wheat-field, with its
mass of emerald waves, now beginning to wear a golden glory
on their crests, as they ripple in the genial sunshine.

ABOUT THE MOLE. 265

ANIMALS.
The Mole, the Staphylinus, and the Mole- Cricket.

Do you hear that noise ? It seems to issue from beneath
yonder heap of pebbles at the foot of the garden-wall. Surely
the stones are moving ; they seem to be walking alone, and
of their own impulse, for I cannot see anything to set them in
motion.

Let us draw near and examine the mystery. " Ah, what a
hideous black creature ! " It is retreating in a terrible state
of alarm, 'as if it felt itself pursued by some formidable enemy.

This " hideous creature " is known to French gardeners by
the name of courtiliere; to naturalists, as a species
of Staphylinus. (Fig. 61.) Its great and per-
sistent adversary is the mole : a mammal at war
with an insect !

Watch well, I pray you, the mole's movements,
which you can do the more easily that here, con-
trary to his ordinary custom, he is wandering in
the open day ; the light blinds him, — accustomed FIG. 61.— The

Staphylinus

as he is to pass his life in the subterranean galleries okm.
which he excavates by his own labour. But if he does not
see us, he hears us ; the sound of our footsteps was sufficient
to make him prick up his ears (if we may so speak of a mole),
and he remains motionless. Do not stir, or he will betake
himself to flight, and we shall lose an excellent opportunity of
being present at a very curious spectacle.

266 HIS MODE OF PROGRESSION.

He is now reassured. He recommences his manoeuvres,
pushing before him every little pebble which he meets with.
For this purpose he employs his elongated snout, exactly as a
pig grubs among the uncleanness of his sty. But his next
movements are not of a porcine character. With feet broad
as battledores, the mole, while manoeuvring with his nose,
quietly pushes aside every clod which threatens to obstruct
his progress. These sidelong, abrupt, and jerking movements
remind you of those of a dog, seeking with his paws to enlarge
the opening of the burrow wherein a rabbit has taken refuge.
The mole has thus the habit of a hunting-dog; and, to complete
the resemblance, he stops at intervals in his scratching, and
shakes the dust off his head. One is quite surprised to see a
little mammal executing the movements we are wont to regard
as peculiar to an animal much larger than he is.

The beetle quits in affright the heap of stones where it had
hoped to find an asylum; it now crosses our path, holding
itself erect, with a menacing air, and its tail armed with a
forked barb. The mole follows in close pursuit : who would
have believed he could run so quickly? Let us bar his
passage, and study him at our leisure.

The first thing we remark is his glossy hair, which is softer
to the touch than the finest velvet. Where are his eyes?
Blow aside the hair which covers his face. There they are,
and they resemble miniature pearls of a shining black.

How could Aristotle say that the mole had no eyes ? To

HAS THE MOLE EYES? 267

believe it you must read the assertion for yourself. And here
are the very words of the authority who, for so many centuries,
was accepted as infallible : —

"All viviparous animals have eyes, except the mole" (v^w

Then, as if a sudden doubt had seized him, and he were
frightened at his own statement, the illustrious Stagyrite
hastens to add : " We might, perhaps, strictly admit that he
has." But another change comes over the spirit of the
philosopher's dream; his hesitation vanishes, and he im-
mediately repeats and justifies his former assertion in these
terms : —

" But, carefully considered, the mole does not see, because
he has no apparent eyes externally" (oXwg /ab y&g ovQ' ogy, our
iffi £/'; r6 tpaveebv 5j?Xoug o<pda\uo{j$)*

These last words denote — I beg pardon of the manes
of a great philosopher — an absolute want of observation.
Evidently, Aristotle had not taken the trouble to look
before he made his statement. And do not think that
this curious indifference was peculiar to the great master of
the Peripatetic School; it characterises more or less all the
philosophers of antiquity, as well as too many who have fol-
lowed in their footsteps.

Pliny has simply translated Aristotle when he says: —
" Among quadrupeds the moles are wanting in the sense of
sight " (guadrvpedum talfis visus non est)A

* Aristotle, " Hist. Animal.," i. 9.
t Pliny, " Hist. Nat," xi. 52.

268 HANDS AND FINGERS.

But it is a curious thing that both Aristotle and Pliny main-
tain, that if you lift up. the skin where the eyes ought to be,
you will perceive the organs of vision. How could they
remove the skin without distinguishing in it the eyes, like
black and brilliant beads ? Did they practise anatomy, like
their own imaginary mole, without eyes ? The whole matter
would be inexplicable if we did not take into account that
force of inertia which binds man in chains of iron, in the
moral world as well as in the physical.

To see, to observe; to retrace one's steps, that one may
see and observe more distinctly ; is a labour repugnant to the
human mind. To create systems, in order that he may pro-
claim himself a great doctrinal teacher, is the work which flat-
ters man, or the creative power of his imagination. Centuries
of effort are needed before he can disentangle himself from
his self-woven thrall in presence of the phenomena of nature.

A striking peculiarity in the mole's structure is his hands,
or feet, with their five fingers, or toes, turned outward, and
their curious resemblance to the human hand. Few animals
exhibit a similar conformation. Everything in the structure
of the fore-limbs indicates the animal's burrowing instinct, —
the length of the bone, which corresponds to the human
radius, or fore- arm, — the breadth of the hands, — and the
bend of the arms, which are so fashioned that the elbows
project outwardly.

Does the mole's burrowing instinct lead it in quest of
insects or of vegetable roots ?

IS THE MOLE INJURIOUS* 269

According to the old traditional belief, the mole feeds upon
roots. From time immemorial, it has been looked upon as
an animal so destructive, that, in every country, its destruc-
tion has been encouraged by large rewards. Well, this belief,

transmitted from generation to generation, owes, like so many

«

other traditions, its authority to its antiquity, and is devoid of
foundation.

The mole is an essentially carnivorous animal, and no
more lives upon roots than the dog or the cat. He is pre-
eminently the hunter of the white-worm and beetle ; and
therefore, instead of vowing its extermination, we ought to
take every possible means to preserve and multiply his race.
These absurd traditions and credulous notions, wholly with-
out any experimental confirmation, frequently lead us to take
steps in diametrical opposition to our own interests.

Moles are particularly partial to meadows which are some-
what damp, as, for instance, those where the leafless colchicum
displays, in autumn, its pale-rose flowers. In summer, the
fields are covered with mole-hills. It will be said, perhaps,
that these conical heaps of earth are injurious to vegetation.
But that will be an error, contradicted by observation. Mea-
dows besprinkled with mole-hills grow excellent hay, if care
be taken to level them ; for the earth thus distributed serves
as manure. If they are visited by the moles, it is because
these animals find there a plentiful supply of the rhizofhagous
(root-eating) insects, on which they feed.

The forest is also a favourite haunt of the moles. Apparently
they find, under the layers of leaves and roots, so rich in larvae

270 ANCIENT SUPERSTITIONS.

of every kind, the wherewithal to satisfy amply their insec-
tivorous tastes. It is the mole which generally produces that
rustling of the dry leaves the wanderer is so apt to attri-
bute to a snake or an adder. Stand still for a moment, and
patiently watch. Do you see that undulatory movement?
Thrust your stick rapidly into the uplifted heap. There is
our persevering hunter ; he struggles hard to escape from his
terrible enemy, but, with a little alacrity, you will not find it
difficult to capture him.

Moles are among the most prolific of mammals j and, in
fact, were it not so, their race would have been long ago ex-
terminated. We may, perhaps, venture to say, that by multi-
plying so prodigiously, they wish to do us a service in spite of
ourselves. How tender is the solicitude of nature for the
ungrateful human species !

To see the marvellous qualities ascribed to the mole by the
ancients, one would suppose that they had made him the
object of their special study. Yet, as we have shown, they
could never have watched his habits with any degree of
patience. They saw everything through the delusive prism
of their imagination. As a proof, we will tell you what they
said of the mole.

" Since this animal has been doomed to a perpetual blind-
ness, and lives interred beneath the surface of the earth, like
the dead, he possesses, by way of compensation, some extra-
ordinary qualities. His subterranean existence renders him,
of all animals, the most capable of religion (nulhim rdigionis
capacius animal). To acquire the gift of second-sight, you

THE STAPHYLINUS OLENS. 271

must eat the heart of a mole, while still beating, and freshly
plucked from the animal's body. To cure toothache, suspend
to your neck the tooth of a live mole. Lymphatic people
will gain in strength if sprinkled with a mole's blood. The
ashes of a mole are a sovereign remedy for scrofula; some
recommend for this disease the animal's liver, others the right
foot, and others the head. The earth of mole-hills, fashioned
into pastilles, and preserved in a tin box, is an excellent cure
for all kinds of tumours, and especially for abscesses on the
neck."*

Such, according to Pliny's report, are the virtues of the
mole, as taught by the Magi. The Middle Ages adopted this
teaching, and even to-day, in obscure rural districts, you will
meet with superstitious notions which remind you of the ideas
of the ancient wise men and necromancers of antiquity.

We have thus summarised the natural history of our hunter^
let us now say a few words respecting the game he pursues.

The insect before us is the Staphylinus olens. Its study
has been much neglected, probably on account of its repulsive
appearance. But, conquering our repugnance, let us take the
creature between our forefinger and thumb. See how vigor-
ously it defends itself! Its forked appendage is not for-
midable, it is too soft ; but take care of its mandibles ! With
these hard, horny, pointed pincers, it pricks the skin and
draws blood. Now, bring your nose close to the frightful
black insect at the very moment when it appears the most
* Pliny, "Hist. Nat.," xxx. 7, 12, 24.

272 ITS CHARACTERISTICS.

irritated. Come ! A little courage will conquer your new
feeling of disgust.

What do you smell ?

A pleasant odour of rennet apples ! It reminds me of that
diffused by another insect, much less ugly than your Staphy-
linus, the Cicondela campestris.

It is this peculiarity which explains the specific name of
" odorous " (olens) given to your captive. As for its generic
name, Staphylinus, I have no means of interpreting its ety-
mology ; for the insect's shape has no resemblance to that
of a bunch or cluster, — in Greek, grapuXs?. But this last word
also signifies the uvula, and, perhaps, by the effort of a little
imagination, the naturalist may trace a similitude between
that organ of the throat and the body of the Staphylinus.

The Staphylini are characterised by a very narrow neck,
which separates, as by a kind of web, the head from the
thorax. In diffusing the peculiar odour of which we have
just spoken, they simultaneously eject a musky volatile liquid
contained in two retractile whitish bladders, situated near the
anus. They run quickly, elevating their abdomen like the
earwig. The antennae, inserted in the rear of the strong
mandibles, are each composed of eleven articulations, of
which the first is the longest ; these joints, rounded in form,
are arranged like the beads of a necklace.

The Staphylini belong to that numerous section of insects
whose tarsi are composed of five articulations, and which have
thence received the name of Pentaceii

THE MOLE-CRICKET. 275

In this section they form, with some other genera, the family
of BrachelytrcB* so called because their elytra, or wing-sheaths,
are much shorter than the abdomen.

Our Staphylinus olens is finely punctuated, somewhat hairy,
and of a dull black colour. Though very common in our gar-
dens, and wherever any putrefying substances are to be found,
its habits are not very well known. For if it were generally
understood that it is an essentially carnivorous animal, that it
carries on a determined warfare against the caterpillar, larvae,
and especially the white-worm, far from seeking to destroy it,
men would surely attempt to increase its numbers. It is a
proof that the Staphylini are useful insects, that they are rare
in seasons when the white-worms abound, as was the case, for
example, in the years 1867 and 1868. The larva of the
Staphylinus is as carnivorous as the perfect insect, which it
likewise resembles in form.

To sum up : in every phase of their existence, the Staphylini
render immense services to the agriculturist. It is very desir-
able that this fact should be generally recognised, and their
rehabilitation generally proclaimed.

THE MOLE-CRICKET.

The habito of the mole-cricket are nearly the same as those
of the mole. When winter approaches, it takes refuge under-
neath the surface of the earth, and remains benumbed and
lethargic in its nest so long as the cold lasts. On the welcome
return of spring, it makes its way back to the light by a vertical

gallery, on which a great number of lateral galleries abut, the

s

274

A COUPLE OF COUSINS.

said lateral galleries being the roads it travels in pursuit of its
prey. This subterranean work it executes with its strong fore-
feet, which are
broad, and un-
guiculated, or in-
dented,muchlike
those of a mole.
Hence its popu-

Q

lar name of the

(^j^* mole-cricket (Fig.

FIG. 62. 62, a).

These insects (of the Orthoptera order) belong to the small
family of the crickets — a family closely akin to that of the
grasshoppers. This close kinship has been recognised by the
poets, and we find them brought together in a very charming
sonnet, which cannot be too frequently perused by any reader,
and which may therefore be introduced as a relief to our
duller prose : —

" Green little vaulter in the sunny grass,

Catching your heart up at the feel of June,

Sole voice that 's heard amidst the lazy noon,
When even the bees lag at the summoning brass ;
And you, warm little housekeeper, who class

With those who think the candles come too soon,

Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune
Nick the glad silent moments as they pass ;
Oh, sweet and tiny cousins, that belong,

One to the fields, the other to the hearth,
Both have your sunshine ; both, though small, are strong

At your clear hearts ; and both were sent on earth
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song —

Indoors and out, summer and winter, mirth."

THE CHILD OF SUMMER.

275

So sings Leigh Hunt — a poet, by the way, whose heart was
ever open at " the feel of June," and whose genial writings,
whether prose or verse, whether delightful essays or melodious
songs, should be read in the " happy summer-time," when the
idler, reclining on the sunny grass, with the beauty of an
English landscape around him, wants the companionship of a
gentle spirit and a refined and healthy intellect.

FIG. 63. — The idler, reclining on the sunny grass.

The mole-cricket is, like the grasshopper, a child of summer.
It differs, moreover, from the "cricket on the hearth" in lack-
ing those organs of stridulation (excuse the word, kind reader !)
which mark "the glad silent moments" with their tricksome
(and sometimes inconvenient) tune. Their posterior thighs
have an apparent bulging about them, but the legs are very
short ; so short, that our little friend could not compete with

276 THE INSECT DESCRIBED.

its cousin, the grasshopper, in vaulting exercises, even were it
not otherwise prevented by its large abdomen. Nor is it
much assisted by its wings, for though they are broad, they
are not organised for rapid flight, and the mole-cricket makes
but little use of them. Nature, however, has compensated it
for all these disadvantages by the gift of those strong, power-
ful, flexible fore-feet of which I have already spoken.

The species generally met with in gardens, corn-fields, and
orchards is the Gryllotalpa vulgaris of Latreille, identical
with the Gryllus gryllotalpa of Linnseus. It has a brown head,
garnished with rusty-coloured mandibles ; the thorax is of a
brownish-gray, velvety, tinged with red in the fore parts ; the
elytra, or wing-sheaths, which are much shorter than the abdo-
men, are gray, and marked by black and conspicuously pro-
minent nerves ; the wings, folded back like a fan, are about
one-fourth longer than the abdomen.

The mole-cricket, — mark me ! — is no more of a root-eater
than the mole; it is carnivorous, like the Staphylinus. As
an experiment in confirmation of this statement, we shut up
one of these curious Orthopteras in a large chest filled with
mould. Concealed in the galleries which it speedily con-
structed for its use, it fed upon larvae, and never touched the
cereals which we had sown in the earth. Here was a proof
that we had to plead the cause of another of man's victims.

The mole-cricket ejects, when pursued or tormented, a
blackish liquid, whose etherealised odour reminds one of the
peculiar smell of certain rotten apples. The female, larger

IS IT A MISCHIEF-MAKER 9 277

than the male, lays her eggs, which are, comparatively speak-
ing, of a tolerable size (Fig. 62, £), at some depth underground.
The young, when hatched, resemble their parents, except that
they are white, and possess merely the rudiments of wings.

If the mole-cricket, in its subterranean progress, encounters
any roots, it cuts them with its mandibles, not to feed upon
them, but to get rid of an obstacle j hence the mischief of
which the farmer accuses it, though this slight amount of injury
is altogether outweighed by its services in destroying a swarm
of insects.

Perhaps, therefore, we must not blame the farmer for the
hostility with which he pursues it, especially if we are to
accept as a true picture of its doings the sketch recently
drawn by a popular writer : —

" It is easy to understand that an insect which undermines
land in this way must cause great damage to cultivation (!).
Whether the crops serve it for food or not, they are not the
less destroyed by its underground burrowings. Lands infested
by the mole-cricket are recognisable by the colour of the vege-
tation, which is yellow and withered ; and the rubbish which
these miners heap up at the side of the openings leading to
their galleries, resembling mole-hills in miniature, betrays their
presence to the farmer."

If, I say, this be a true picture, we cannot wonder at the
means employed by the farmer to clear his fields of such dan-
gerous tenants. The plan generally adopted is to dig, at
intervals, a number of little trenches, which are filled up with
cow-dung, well trodden down. The supposed root-eaters as-

278 FABLES ABOUT THE EARWIG.

semble in these warm nests ; and every fourth or fifth day, a
labourer, armed with a pitchfork, scoops up the manure at a
single stroke, and scatters it over the ground, while another
crushes the unfortunate Gryllotalpcz as fast as they make their
appearance.

THE EARWIG.

Next to the domestic fly, the earwig is, perhaps, one of our
commonest, and, let us add, one of our most troublesome,
insects. Whence comes its popular appellation? From a
mere fable. To amuse the silly — alas ! how great their num-
ber ! — marvelling, without doubt, at the spectacle of an insect's
tail armed with strong pincers, some jester wished to transform
it into a terrible animal ; and therefore he pretended that it
introduced itself into the human ear, and from thence pene-
trated to the brain, with the view of driving out its proprietor,
— i.e., the mind or spirit which animates it. Only, the originator
of this absurd bugbear forgot one little fact : there is no open-
ing by which the ear can communicate with the brain ! As for
the pincers, they are not so formidable as they appear. This
character, however, has been considered a sufficient foundation

by the naturalists, even by Lin-
naeus himself, for the insect's
scientific name, Forficula auri-
cularia, which is almost literally
translated by the French oreille-
pince, — our English earwig 01

FIG. 64.— The Earwig (Forficula *

ear-piercer. (Fig. 64.)
What dress is to man, their wings are to insects ; by these

ITS R UDIMENTAR Y WINGS. 2 7 9

we distinguish them, at the first glance, from one another.
The elytra, — those horny sheaths which protect the membran-
ous wings, — embrace, in the Coleoptera, the entire upper
surface of the long annulated abdomen, and resemble vari-
coloured chlamydes. But now, look for the elytra of our
Forficula. You will hardly believe that they are represented
by this kind of abbreviated light-brown jacket, which does
not extend below the middle of the back. Do you observe
yonder whitish spots? They indicate the tips of the wings,
which are longer than their covers. Lift up one of the elytra
with your penknife, and you will find that the wing which it
partly screens is worth your attention. The fore part (we
should call it the upper, if the animal walked erect like a man)
is straight, and without a fold. Raise it with a pin to see the
posterior or lower part. Observe, it curves underneath so
as to bind the intermediate portion like a fan. But this
flabelliform wing, — of tolerable dimensions when unfolded, —
seems intended by the Creative Thought only to mark its
unity of plan : the earwig does not fly, — it secures its food
by crawling.

The elytra and the wings, inconspicuous as they are, pro-
duced so great an impression on the early naturalists, that they
made them the principal characteristics of an entire order of
insects. De Geer, a celebrated Swedish naturalist, named
them the Dermaptera (from ds^a, skin, and vreoov, wing), in
allusion to the transparent skin-like appearance of the elytra.
This name, though adopted by Kirby, has not been pre-
served. A French entomologist suggested the designation

28o ORDER IN THE INSECT WORLD.

which is now in use, — Orthoptera (from oeQ6;, straight, and
•Trrgg&v), — referring to the manner in which the wings are
folded underneath the elytra.

Here we must pause to recapitulate for the benefit of our
younger readers, and to avoid confusion, the various orders
into which the insect world is divided.

1. Aptera (from a, without, and flrgfov, a wing), — wingless.
Examples — Flea, louse, chigo.

2. Diptera (M?, two, and <7rrg£o'i>), — two-winged. Sub-divided
into Nemocera, having six- jointed antennae; Brachycera, having
three-jointed antennae. Examples — Gnat,tipula; May-fly, gad-fly.

3. Hemiptera (ifu, half, and vrtgov), — half-winged. Sub-
divided into Heteroptera, with wings of different textures ;
Homoptera, with wings of one substance. Examples — Land-
bug, water-bug ; cicada, lantern-fly.

4. Lepidoptera (Xg^r/c, a scale, and cmco'i/), — scaly-winged.
Examples — Tiger-moth, butterfly, silkworm.

5. Orthoptera (o^or, straight, and flre^oi/), — straight-winged.
Examples — Earwig, cockroach, locust.

6. Stymenoptera (fy^*, a membrane, and vreofo), — mem-
branous-winged. Examples — Bee, wasp, ant.

7. Neuroptera (^ufov, nerve, and cmeov), — nerve-marked
wings. Examples — Dragon-fly, caddis-fly, ant-lin.

8. Strepsiptera: (arps-^ig, a twisting, and arfgo'i/), — curled or
twisted wings. Examples — Xenos, elenchus.

9. Coleoptera (xoXgo'c, a sheath, and crrgooi'), — sheathed wings,
Examples — Beetle, cockchafer,

MORE ABOUT THE EARWIG. 281

The order of Orthoptera, with which we are now concerned,
is not very well known. The reason is, perhaps, that the
insects belonging to it — earwigs, cockroaches, grasshoppers,
crickets — are not less disagreeable than useless, so far as man
is concerned. Being nearly all of them omnivorous, like
man himself, they frequently aid him, very much against his in-
clination, in the consumption of natural products of every kind.

It has been remarked that the species of great animals are
far fewer in number than those of the little. This remark
applies with peculiar force to the Orthoptera, which do not
include nearly so many small species as the Coleoptera.

The earwig is the type of the tiny group of the Forficulidae,
of which two species only are known to the common world —
the Forficula auricularia and the Forficida minor.

. The first species everybody is acquainted with. We have
already spoken of its elytra and its wings ; but we now say a
word upon the two extremities of its body. The two antennae,
which crown the head, are extremely mobile, owing, of
course, to the numerous articulations of which they are made
up. These are fourteen in number (if we include the base,
which ^ itself composed of two movable parts). In reality,
however, there are but twelve ; for we ought to eliminate the
base, — because, in form and size, it differs greatly from articu-
lations properly so called, — and, at the same time, to regard
as one the articulation or joint inserted in it. In fine, I am
of opinion, contrary to the general conclusion, that the
antennae of the earwig consist but of twelve articulations,

282 WEAPONS OF DEFENCE.

"bristling with hairs, and easily counted almost by the un-
assisted eye. With the help of a microscope, the observer
can easily distinguish the large nervure traversing them from
top to bottom, and communicating to the antennae their
characteristic sensibility and mobility.

The brownish-coloured abdomen, composed of imbricated
rings, forms, in itself alone, upwards of half the body. The
animal can move itself in every direction; can bend and
twist like a young eel. To the last of its rings, which is
larger than the others, are attached the two curved branches
of the forceps (forficula). These are weapons of defence
rather than of attack. At the same time, they are useful as
a sexual distinction. The forceps of the male are strongly
arched, and furnished with indentations perfectly visible to
the naked eye (see Fig. 64, a); those of the female are
scarcely bent at all, and their indentations can only be seen
with the microscope. In numerous individuals, the last ring
of the abdomen is provided with four tubercles, one in each
side and two in the middle; but this is not a uniform
characteristic.

The earwig is a trimeral insect ; that is, its tarsi are each
composed of three joints. Its mandibles are comparatively
weak. The moment you touch it, the insect raises, with
great quickness, the extremity of its supple body, and endea-
vours to defend itself with its pincers. The female lays her
eggs chiefly in the chinks and crannies of time-worn timber,
and the larvae issuing from them do not differ, in any material
respect, from the perfect insect. (See Fig. 64, b.)

CERTAIN LITTLE-KNO WN SPECIES. 283

The small species, known as Forficula minor, is not very
common. It is about half the size of its better-known
congener, and is also distinguished from it by its joints, ten
in number, — by its legs, of a very pale yellow, — and by its
pincers, which are not only very short, but almost straight,
and scarcely marked, even in the male, with any indentations.
More, the wings are of the colour of the elytra, and without
any white spots. This species is chiefly met with in the spring-
time, and then in damp sandy localities, near ponds and rivers.

Another, and still rarer species, to which we may permit
ourselves an allusion, has yellow pincers, rather black at the
extremity, and garnished inside, towards the middle, with a
horny tubercular projection. In the Pyrenees a species
has been found which has no wings at all, and has there-
fore been named Forficula aptera.

Our readers will now inquire, What is the use of this
curiously constructed animal? Is it not an abomination to
the gardener? Well, we admit that it eats up the leaves
of his plants, and the petals of his flowers, especially of the
dahlia; but, on the other hand, it destroys those far more
injurious insects, thrips, aphis^ and the like.

But it has a peculiar interest for the scientific student from
the point of view of what we may call its muscular dyna-
mometry, — its power of traction, which is far superior to that
of our strongest quadrupeds.

Do you doubt the truth of this assertion ? Try, then, the
following experiment.

284 MUSCULAR DYNAMOMETRY.

Fasten to the insect's pincer, or forceps, with a thread, a
halfpenny, which will weigh about two grains, while the weight
of its body, on an average, will not exceed five centigrammes.
Give the insect free course over a sheet of paper, and you
will see it drag along the coin like a light chariot. Our ani-
mal is, therefore, capable of drawing a burden fifty times
heavier than its own body. A man of eleven stone would,
in the same ratio, be able to drag 7700 Ibs. Neither man
nor horse can enter, in this respect, into competition with
the earwig. If all the members of the animal kingdom were
classified according to their power of traction, it is probable
that the post of honour at the top of the list would be occu-
pied by our despised Forficula auricularia.

The idea of a muscular dynamometry of insects is not so
new as one might be tempted to think it. From time imme-
morial men have been struck, without being able to account
for it, by the enormous disproportion existing between the
weight of a flea and the force or energy displayed by its
extraordinary bounds. Hence the popularity of a recent ex-
hibition in London of Performing Fleas. Pliny, eighteen
centuries ago, asserted that the muscular strength of the ants
exceeded that of all other animals, if we compared the burden
they were able to carry with the diminutiveness of their bodies.
" Si quis comparet onera corporibus earum, fateatur nullis por-
tione vires esse majores" *

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, this interesting
* Pliny, "Hist. Nat.," xi. 36.

DWARF VERSUS GIANT. 285

question was taken up by Borelli, Lahire, Buffon, and Gueneau
de Montbeliard. Recently it has been revived, with much
ability, by Felix Plateau, whose experiments have proved that
the insects, in comparison with their weight, possess an un-
common muscular force, far beyond that of vertebrate animals ;
that in the same group of insects this force varies in different
species ; and that in the small species it is often of astounding
energy.

The muscles are enclosed in solid sheaths (so to speak), which
constitute the jointed limbs of insects, and the thickness of the
sides of these sheaths seems to decrease in ratio with the size.
No relation, therefore, exists between the stature of individuals
and the volume and strength of their muscles. A giant may
be weaker than a dwarf. Here is another mystery for science
to reveal 1

But we must take leave of our earwig. Its English name
is derived by some authorities from ear, and the old English
wiega, a worm or grub, — identical with the German oberwurm,
and based, of course, on the fiction which we have already
exploded.

Newman, however, suggests a somewhat different name, and,
consequently, a different etymology : * — " The shape of the
hind wings," he says, " when fully opened, is nearly that of
the human ear ; and from this circumstance it seems highly
probable that the original name of this insect was earwing"
But we cannot agree with Mr Newman.

* Newman, " Introduction to the History of British Insects."

286

FAREWELL TO THE EARWIG.

It remains to be added, that the female earwig sits upon
her eggs, and hatches them like a hen ; and like a hen, too
she gathers her young around her with evident affection.

FIG. 65.— Landscape.

OOK IV.

AUTUMN.

'• Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they ?

Think not of them ; thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the softly dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue ;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river shallows, borne aloft

Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies ;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn ;
Hedge crickets sing ; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden croft,

And gathering swallows twitter from the skies."

— KEATS

It was a fair and mild autumnal sky,
And earth's ripe pleasures met the admiring eye,
As a rich beauty, when her bloom is lost,
Appears \vith more magnificence and cost."

— CRABBE.

CHAPTER I.
WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS.

" The contemplation of the works of creation elevates the mind to the ad-
miration of whatever is great and noble, accomplishing the object of all study,
which is to inspire the love of truth, of wisdom, of beauty, especially of good-
ness, the highest beauty, and of that supreme and eternal Mind which contains
all truth and wisdom, all beauty and goodness."— MARY SOMERVILLE.

O discern the luminous point which should guide
us in the shadows of the infinite, is the gift of

genius. The first to discern this point in astron-
omy, the illustrious Kepler thereby succeeded in formu-
lating those laws, or rather rules, by which the move-
ments of the stars are regulated. How did he succeed?
How did he arrive at a goal so much to be desired ?
By intelligence in full possession of itself. It was by
abstracting his thoughts from all systematic conceptions,
— the shackles of science ; it was by defying the tradi-
tional authority which had so long enslaved men's
minds ; it was by interrogating nature, which leaves all

liberty to her interrogator, that Kepler was able to de-

T

290 A UNIFORM MOVEMENT.

serve and win the glorious title of " legislator of the heavens,*1
— a title which we must not, however, understand too literally ;
it bears witness only to the power of intellect.

Let us attempt, at a modest distance, to proceed like
Kepler; let us make astronomy without troubling ourselves
concerning astronomers. This is the sole means of seizing
the luminous point which should guide our steps.

The movement, in virtue of which every star performs the
circuit of heaven in four-and-twenty hours, is incessantly re-
produced in a uniform and a constant manner. The acqui-
sition of this first fact, simple as it seems, was a somewhat
laborious task, and undoubtedly dates back to a distant
antiquity. But now comes another fact, where observation
demands the closest mental attention, and which is of a more
recent discovery.

To comprehend it clearly, let us first call to mind that the
moment when the sun crosses the Equator, — whether to return
into the northern hemisphere (at the spring equinox), or into
the southern (at the autumn equinox), — is instantaneous. More
than one way exists of determining this moment exactly ; but
here we need not enter upon the subject

Is the interval of time occupied by the sun in travelling
from the spring to the autumn equinox equal to the interval
which our luminary requires to pass from the autumn equinox
to the vernal ?

A singular question, you reply. Who, indeed, would ven-
ture to maintain that the number of days, hours, minutes,

WHO WAS THE INNOVATOR? 291

seconds, was not exactly the same in the one case as in the
other?

Well, the period is not the same ; and, therefore, merely to
propound this question was a masterpiece of genius. For no
ordinary intellectual audacity was needed to doubt the reality
of the supposed perfect circle which the sun apparently de-
scribes— according to the recognised authorities — in its uniform
progress around the globe ; that globe believed by all the early
astronomers to be imperturbably and everlastingly situated in
the centre of their thrice-sacred geometrical figure. This
dogma being accepted as infallible, there was every evidence
that the two intervals of time, which divided the astronomical
year into two moieties, would be of equal duration. It did
not occur to the mind of any one of the faithful that the so-
journ of the sun, in his circular and uniform movement, might
be longer or shorter in the northern than in the southern
hemisphere.

What, then, was the name of the audacious innovator who
ventured upon putting forth so revolutionary a suggestion ?

It was Hipparchus. At least it was he who, confidently
relying upon his observations, was the first to affirm that the
sun remains longer in the northern than in the southern hemi-
spheres ; or, more accurately speaking, that its passage from
the spring to the autumn equinox occupies 187 days, while
from the autumn to the spring equinox the duration of its
course is only 178 days 6 hours (nearly). The year of 365 J
days — that is, the Egyptian year, which was universally
adopted by the ancient astronomers — was thus discovered

292 THE POLL Y OF DOGMA.

to be really divided into two unequal portions, although,
theoretically, the sun ought to occupy exactly the same space
of time in passing from the spring to the autumn, as from the
autumn to the spring equinox.

The fact pointed out and attested by Hipparchus had an
influence which he never anticipated on the progress of science.
In opposition to all the systems previously designed by man,
it followed, in the first place, that the movement of the sun, in
relation to a mean movement, must sometimes be accelerated,
sometimes be retarded ; that the solar arc described in a given
time would be greater in winter than in summer.

Astronomers who, trammelled by particular theories, were
unable and unwilling to accept of any new light, immediately
hastened to raise, as is invariably the case with those who
defend a bad cause, a subsidiary and damaging question.
They asked whether those inequalities of the sun's movement
were real, or only apparent ; whether they were more than a
mere optical phenomenon, arising from the sun's position
vis-a-vis to an observer placed on the earth's surface. And
they unhesitatingly pronounced in favour of the appearance,
and against the reality.

But man, says an old adage, is always punished after the
manner of his sin. Dogmatic and obstinate authority in-
volved our anti-revolutionary astronomers in fresh complica-
tions. Such is the case, too, very frequently, in the domain
of theology !

Does the sun — the sun as each of us beholds him — ever

ANOTHER HETERODOX QUESTION. 293

change his size ? Does he ever shrink in his majestic propor-
tions? Is the magnitude of his broad golden disc ever lessened?

Assuredly this new question, which was not less audacious
than its predecessor, did not come — there is sacrilege in the
thought — from the conservative areopagus of all ancient
doctrines ; the learned areopagus, or supreme tribunal, which
had erected into a dogma the circular orbit and uniform move-
ment of the sun around the earth, the centre of the universe !
It could only have been suggested by some unworthy hetero-
doxical disturber of men's minds, — his name, alas ! has not
been handed down to us, — who had dared to look upon the
heavens, and learn from their bright and beautiful face, with-
out a master, the A B C of science. This " pestilent heretic "
had, probably, remarked one of the commonest phenomena
connected with the celestial bodies, which astronomers hitherto
had not deigned to notice.

Undoubtedly, dear reader, you will have been more than
once impressed by the appearance of the solar orb, when
obscured in one of those mists so frequent towards the end of
autumn : —

" Cold grew the foggy morn, the day was brief ;
Loose on the cherry hung the crimson leaf ;
The dew dwelt ever on the herb ; the woods
Roared with strong blasts, with mighty showers the floods."

Such a day, in this sad season of the year, when the glory
of the woods is rapidly departing, and from the swollen streams
and dewy pastures the vapours ascend in a dense whirl oi

294

EXPERIENTIA DOCET.

clouds, is of frequent occurrence j and on such a day, the solar
sphere, as it struggles through the screening mists, seems like
the face of the moon at its full, when slightly veiled. Your eye

FIG. 66.—" When the glory of the woods is rapidly departing."

rests upon it without pain. And as observation sharpens your
mind, you put to yourself the natural question, Is not the sun
farther from the earth at this epoch when it affords us the

WHEN IS THE SUN NEAREST EARTH1} 295

least heat, than at that period of the year when its vivifying
power is greatest ? I think it is obvious that, to the unex-
perienced, such a method of explaining the cold of winter
and the heat of summer by the variation in the distance of
our great solar luminary would naturally occur.

But the demon of certainty — an excellent demon, whatever
the orthodox may say — is present, to stimulate us all. You
may have just formed your theories, you may cite your tradi
tional authorities, but these will not satisfy our awakened
curiosity. We ask for demonstrations, for irrefragable proofs
drawn from the Bible of Nature. We will listen to no oracles
but those which are confirmed by the voices of God's second
revelation.

Therefore, men required to be assured that the sun was really
nearer to us in summer than in winter. For this purpose, it
was requisite to make, at the beginning of summer, an observa-
tion analogous to that which had been made at the beginning
of winter, and afterwards to compare the apparent magnitudes
of the solar disc at these two opposite periods of the year.

Behold us, then, at work. You are perfectly tranquil as to
the result; for you are persuaded beforehand that the sun must
be farther from us in the cold season than in the hot. You
regard this as a self-evident truth, like an axiom of Euclid's.

But Nature is a great magician; she contrives the most
dramatic surprises for the mind which takes the trouble to inter-
rogate her in all simplicity and without dogmatic pretensions.

What a coup-de-theatre it was for the observer who first
established experimentally that the apparent diameter of the

296 THE SUN'S VISUAL ANGLE.

sun is greater in winter than in summer — that we are nearer the
sun in the cold season, than in the hot !

On more closely examining a result apparently so paradoxi-
cal, man discovered that the angle which subtracts the sun, as
seen from the earth, — the visual angle which gives the sun's
apparent diameter, — varies necessarily throughout the year.
Thus, the semi-diameter, or radius, which on the 24th of June
equals 15' 45", will, a month later, have increased one second
(15' 46") ; on the 2d of August will equal 15' 47" ; on the 2d
September, 15' 53", and so on. We put the exact measure-
ments before the reader in a tabulated form : —

LENGTH OF THE SUN'S RADIUS.

On January 2 1, > i6'i6"

„ February 25, . 16' 10"

„ March 3 1, . i& i"

„ April 30, . » 15' 53"

„ May 30, . ... I5'47r

„ June 24, minimum, 15' 45"

On July 24, . . 1 5' 46"

„ August 3, . 15' 47"

„ September 2, . 15' 53"

„ October 2, ; i6'i"

„ November 6, .. . i6'io"

„ December 2 1, maximum, i6'i7'

We do not trouble the reader with the fractions of a second,
which indicate the quantity of the apparent increase of the
radius from the end of June to the end of December, and
its apparent decrease from the beginning of January to the
end of June.

A glance at the above figures shows that the mean of the
apparent diameters, all measured at the moment of the sun's
passing the meridian, is about half a degree, or 30'; and

MAXIMUM AND MINIMUM. 297

that — which is sufficiently curious — 720 of these mean suns,
set one against another, would be required to fill up the
contour of a great circle of the celestial sphere. Is it this
fact which suggested the idea of dividing the circle into

Simultaneously with the discovery of the variations of the
solar charioteer, it was ascertained that the moments of the
sun's passage of the meridian — moments which measure the
365 different positions occupied by the sun in the 365 days
of the year — are not separated by equal intervals, or that
equal intervals of time do not correspond to the equal angular
displacements, — in fine, that the maximum and minimum of
the sun's angular velocity coincide with the maximum and
minimum of its apparent diameter. Now, remember that
the extreme points where the sun experiences its maximum
and minimum angular displacement are named, according
to Ptolemseus, the former the perigee, the latter the apogee;
or, if we follow Copernicus, the former the perihelion, and
the latter the aphelion.

The aggregate of these facts was known to the ancients ;
but the manner in which it was sought to explain them
merits notice as a specimen of blind attachment to a pre-
conceived system.

Ptolemaeus, the organ of the dictatorial astronomy of
antiquity, declares, ex cathedra, that "the inequalities of
the sun's movements are only apparent; that they are
simply the effects of the position and of the arrangements

298 ASTRONOMICAL INFALLIBILITY.

of the circles in which these movements are accomplished ;
and that, in this apparent disorder of the phenomena (vegl r^i>
vKovovpewiv ruv paivopevut arag/av), nothing really occurs con-
trary to their actual immobility (rw oV/ fl-lpim ffupZatvsiv ovdsv
dXTiorg/ov O.VTUV rye atdi077}TO$)."

Now, according to this dogmatic immutability, the straight
lines, or radii, which proceed from the revolving star to
the centre of the circle, would describe " equal angles in
equal times." This is exactly the contrary of the result
obtained, as we have seen, by careful observation.

But this difficulty no more embarrassed the great pontiff
of astronomy than a conscientious scruple would perplex
the author of a theological dogma. Listen to him : —

" The true cause of these apparent irregularities is explained
by two very simple hypotheses. Either the one or the other
would account for the phenomena. In fact, if we suppose
the movement to occur in a circle described around the
centre of the world, and in the plane of the ecliptic, so that
the point whence we are looking corresponds with this
centre, we must admit either that the planets make their
movements equal in non-concentric circles, or that, if these
circles are concentric, it is not simply in these circles that
they move, but in others, called epicycles, carried through
the concentric." *

Examine Fig. 67. Here A B G D represent the ecliptic,
E its centre, and A E G its diameter; Z H T K is the
epicycle, in which the planet moves uniformly around the
* Ptolemaeus, "Syntaxis Mathematicalis," iii. 3.

ITS THEORY OF EPICYCLES.

299

centre A, while the epicycle uniformly traverses the circle

A B G D. Now, suppose that

the star has arrived at H ; it would

appear to an observer at E to be

more advanced by the uniform

movement of all the arc A H ;

if it be at K, it would appear, on

the contrary, to be less advanced

by all the arc A K. At Z the

star would appear more distant,

and at T, nearer than if it were at A.

FIG. 67.— The Circle and the
Epicycle.

To explain the other phenomena, such as the stations and
retrocessions of the planets, recourse was again had to the
epicycles or deferred eccentric circles. By multiplying these
it was possible to account for all the angular inequalities in
the movements of a planet. It is of importance to note this
point, in order to show how very dangerous it is to trust
absolutely to mathematics in our search after the truth ; that
science which, by the certainty of its demonstrations, nourishes
our intellectual pride, and may, therefore, occasionally lull the
mind into a false security. The theory of epicycles, from a
mathematical point of view, was irreproachable, and it suffi-
ciently accounted for the facts which threatened to overthrow
the dogma of circular orbits and uniform planetary move-
ment.

But by d-egrees, as observations grew more accurate and

300 KEPLER'S GOOD WORK.

comprehensive, these and other theories, however fine in
appearance, — teres atque rotundus, — gradually disappeared, if
fundamentally erroneous. By the invention of micrometers,
we were enabled to measure more exactly than had formerly
been possible the variations of diameter or the modifications
of distance, and afterwards to compare them with the changes
of velocity. From this comparison it results that the latter
are not greater than is compatible with the alterations of
distance indicated by the variations of diameter ; in a word,
that the hypothesis of epicycles is decidedly insufficient to
account for all the inequalities detected by careful investi-
gation.

Kepler was the first to break the charm which had held
captive the mind of astronomers, including even Copernicus
and Tycho Brand Ptolemaeus had considered the mean
positions of the stars to be real. Kepler, strong in his
researches, declared that they were but a factitious mode of
calculation by which the true positions might be ascertained ;
that the mean movement is simply an artifice representing the
star's place, if no inequality existed ; in fine, that we must
take the movements as they are in nature, — the true move-
ments, given by observation, — and not the mean movements,
deduced from an erroneous hypothesis.

This declaration of principles met, at the time, with the
hostility of all astronomers of any reputation, but it has
become the starting-point of the discovery of the laws on
which the whole edifice of astronomy reposes. Had Kepler,

HOW HE STUDIED MARS. 301

however, been left to depend entirely on his own resources,
he might, perhaps, have never completed his task. A for-
tunate circumstance brought him an unexpected ally. Tycho,
having taken refuge in Bohemia, sent for the young astrono-
mer (Kepler then was but twenty-nine years old), to assist
him in the composition of the " Rudolphine Tables." *

"This," says Kepler, "was a providential interposition.
I repaired to Bohemia early in the year 1600, in the hope of
learning the correction of the eccentricities of the planets.
Perceiving that Tycho made use of a mixed system (which
made Mercury and Venus revolve around the sun, and all
these planets, with their companions, around the earth), I
asked his permission to follow out my own ideas. It was the
will of Providence again, that we should occupy ourselves
with Mars. My whole attention, therefore, was directed to
this planet : and it is through the movements of Mars we
must obtain our insight into the secrets of astronomy, or
remain ignorant of them for ever (ex Martis motibus omnino
necesse est nos in cognitionem astronomies arcanorum venire aut ea
perpetuo nestire)" f

Why this preference given to Mars? In the first place,
because, among all the planets then known, it was Mars which,
in its movement round the sun, departed most from the circle ;
next, its orbit approaches nearest to the earth's ; the earth is

* Certain astronomical calculations, so called because begun under the
patronage of Rudolf II., Emperor of Germany (1576-1612).

t Kepler, " Astronomia Nova, seu de Motibus Stellae Martis," p. 53
(ed. 1609).

302 TYCHO AND HIS SUCCESSOR.

very near to Mars when she passes between that planet and
the sun, — that is to say, when she is in opposition, while she
retires from it triple the distance when in conjunction, — that
is, when the sun is between her and Mars. Hence arise cer-
tain variations of aspect, particularly adapted to make manifest
the form of the orbit, and the law of the real movement of the
" red planet, Mars." As for the other planets, as far as they
were then known, their orbits differ so little from the circle,
that the nature of the curve which they describe in reality
would never have been exactly recognised by any inexperienced
star-gazer.

For these reasons Kepler regarded as providential the choice
he had been led to make of Mars at the outset of his astrono-
mical career. Before the close of 1601, Tycho died, bequeath-
ing to his young fellow-worker a treasury of observation.
Thenceforth Kepler undertook to finish without assistance
the famous Rudolphine Tables. They cost him five-and-
twenty years of assiduous labour. Looking upon Tycho's
observations, because of their exactness, as " a gift from the
Divine Goodness," he employed them, in the first place, as
a test of the old hypotheses of planetary orbits and move-
ments. Let us do our best to grasp the range and bearing
of this part of his work.

In the system of Copernicus, which Kepler ardently adopted,
the earth revolves around the sun. Now, observation having
shown that the sun remains seven or eight days longer in the
northern than in the southern signs of the Zodiac, we must of

A PROBLEM AND ITS CONDITIONS. 303

necessity admit that the sun, instead of being situated in the
centre of the terrestrial orbit, occupies a point outside that
centre, in such a manner that the earth must sometimes be
nearer to, and sometimes farther from, the sun. The distance
by which it departs from the centre of its orbit, which Coper-
nicus, like the ancients, supposed to be circular, is called its
eccentricity.

Astronomers were long preoccupied with the idea of seek-
ing in this eccentricity a point where the movements should
appear equal. This point was the centre of the equant, — a
name given to the eccentric circle described from the point
of equality or from the centre of the mean movements.

Now, let us recall the principal condition of the problem
which Kepler had undertaken to solve. This condition re-
quired that the straight line drawn from the centre of our
globe to the centre of the sun, — in a word, that the vector
radius, as it is called, should describe around the sun certain
angles, whose variability should agree with the results of
observation.

Starting from this point, Kepler found that, for certain
positions of Mars (in the aphelion and perihelion, corresponding
to the minimum and maximum of velocity), the centre of the
orbit, always supposing it to be circular, divided into two equal
parts (or bisected) the total eccentricity : in other words, that it
exactly occupied the middle between the centre of the eccen-
tric and the equant of Ptolemseus ; but it did not appear to
him necessary to bisect it in other positions, intermediate be-
tween those of the aphelion and the perihelion. He established

304 HO W KEPLER SOL VED IT.

that the differences in longitude amounted to eight or nine
minutes. Now, observations so exact as those of Tycho were
altogether incompatible with such great error.* Therefore, the
geometrical hypothesis which gave these errors was false ; the
orbit of Mars could not be a circle, and to save these eight or
nine minutes, furnished by observation but in disaccord with
theory, it would be needful to recommence all the calculations
of astronomy. This conclusion, not less legitimate than daring,
supplied Kepler with the first decisive step in the task he had
undertaken.

This is not the place to- relate all the essays and miscarriages
through which this man of genius passed before finally com-
pleting his discovery of the rules that bear his name. But
we may put before the reader the construction which led to
them.

On a sheet of paper let us mark down by a point (Fig. 68)
the place occupied by the earth in relation to the sun.t
From this point o, we draw a right line terminating at a, the
sun's noon-day position (for example, on the ist of January) ;
the succeeding lines shall touch upon a a", which the sun
occupies successively after the same interval of time (twenty-four

* The reader should turn to Kepler's immortal work, " De Motibus Stellse
Martis," for the manifold attempts of the astronomer to bring calculation
into agreement with observation. In every page is revealed what has been
finely called "the passionate patience of genius."

*h There is certainly no exaggeration in comparing the earth to a point,
since the diameter of the sun is 112 times that of the earth, and its mean
distance a little more than 12,000 terrestrial diameters: the earth is but
a microscopical point in space, if we compare it to the place occupied by
the central luminary.

AN ILL USTRA TIVE DIA GRAM. 305

hours, or the exact duration of the earth's rotation on its axis);
— and let us continue after this mode until the sun has accom-
plished, by its own proper movement from west to east, the
whole circuit of the heavens, traversing 360 degrees in the
space of a year. If we ascribe to
the radius oa a certain length,
corresponding to a definite solai
diameter, the lengths of all the
others, corresponding to the va-
riations of the same diameter,
will depend upon that of the first,
which, for facility of calculation,
we suppose to be divided into

One thousand partS. Fl(i- 68.— Diagram for Kepler's Laws.

After having thus allotted to each straight line its approxi-
mate length, let us join their extremities by a curve. What do
we see before us ? A geometrical figure widely different from
a circle, for the diameters (i.e., the straight lines passing through
the centre) are far from being equal. The figure is an ellipse.

If now we pass from the appearance to the reality, o will
be the sun, and a a' a", m m' will indicate the terrestrial
orbit, or the points of the curve successively occupied by the
earth in movement. The moveable straight lines, free at one
extremity, and at the other attached to the centre of the sun,
are called the Vector heliocentric radii. By the help of this
construction, you see that the point occupied by the sun is
beyond or without the centre ; this eccentric point is fat focus
of the ellipse, and the distance from this focus to the centre,

306 DISTANCE VERSUS VELOCITY.

its eccentricity. The extremity of the major axis, the nearest 10
the focus, is \hzperihelion, and its farthest extremity the aphelion.
The difference of the angles formed by the vector radii in-
dicate the inequality of the movements : to the greatest angle,
the perihelion, corresponds the maximum of velocity (a a'd'\
just as to the smallest, or aphelion, corresponds the minimum
(m m') ; the other angles mark the velocities intermediary
between these two extremes. We have thus before us a series
of triangles with their apices at the focus of the ellipse, and their
bases on the contour of the curve.

But these latter are not sufficient for the mind, whose prin-
cipal function lies in seeking unity among the variety of
phenomena.

In what way are the variations of distance connected with
the variations of velocity ? What is the simplest expression of
their relationship ? These are questions which naturally pre-
sented themselves to Kepler's inquiring intellect. By dint of
immeasurable patience, and recommencing more than once
the same toil, this great astronomer discovered that the vari-
able arc traversed by the earth (or, in appearance, the sun), in
four-and-twenty hours, multiplied by one half the correspond-
ing vector radius, is a constant quantity: is the product which,
as elementary geometry teaches, gives the surface of a triangle.
And, in fact, look at the matter carefully: the vector radii
form triangles whose base is the arc traversed in the same
interval of time, and whose apices rest upon the centre of
the sun (or, in appearance, the observer, or the centre of the
earth).

KEPLER'S CELEBRATED LAWS. 307

To fix these ideas thoroughly in our minds, — and a super
ficial knowledge is worse than useless, — let us imagine to our-
selves a man holding horizontally extended a tube of a certain
length, capable, like a telescope, of being lengthened or short-
ened at pleasure ; and let us fancy him pivoting upon himself,
in such a manner that he sweeps, every minute, exactly the
same area or same quantity of surface, while varying per-
petually the swiftness of movement and the length of the
tube ; this " ideal man " will have solved the problem whose
solution is inscribed, in ineffaceable letters, on the machinery
of our globe ; he will describe around him an ellipse, of which
he himself occupies one of the foci.

By this method of investigation and deduction, Kepler suc-
ceeded in breaking up the traditionary authority of the circle
and of uniform movement. He broke it up for ever by two of
his celebrated laws, which may be rendered in the following
terms : —

ist, The orbit of the earth, as well as the curves described by
the other planets, are ellipses, one of whose foci is repre-
sented by the sun ;

ad, The heliocentric vector radius of a planet describes around
the sun areas equal with the times ; or, in other words, the
surfaces described by the vector radii, in eqiial times, are
also equal

The ancients had looked for equality in the movements of

308

THE EVIL OF DOGMA.

planets traversing the circumferences of circles : they were
mistaken. It is true this equality exists ; only, not where they
supposed. If they had sought it in the surfaces described by
the vector radii, they would have anticipated Kepler's dis-
covery of the laws which govern our world.

But their astronomical dogmas prevented them from seeing
the path which led to this great discovery.

Hence we may conclude that Dogma is an evil thing.

CHAPTER II.
WHAT MA Y BE SEEN UPON THE EARTH.

" I care not, Fortune, what you me deny;
You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace ;
You cannot shut the windows of the sky
Through which Aurora shows her bright'ning face ;
You cannot bar my constant feet to trace
The woods and lawns by living streams at eve."

F all the strata composing our planetary mass, the
most important, so far as man is concerned, is,

at the same time, the most superficial ; for it is
here that all the phenomena of life transpire. Our
vegetable earth is the great laboratory in which are
prepared all the solid, liquid, and gaseous aliments
necessary for the nourishment of animal life. It is on
the surface of the globe that men play their various
parts. And why ? Can it be for no other purpose than
to modify, in some degree, its aspect, that they occupy
the terrestrial surface ? One would be tempted to think
so on consulting what these majestic bimanes pompously
designate their " Universal History." Regions for-

310 THE LESSON OF MUTABILITY.

merly blooming with fertility, — gay with gardens, and orchards,
and meadows, — musical with brooks, and glorious with har-
vest,— are now uncultivated and barren. Monuments which
seemed adapted to defy the winds and the rains, and the
corroding touch of the years, lie shattered in ruins ; and with
them the once populous cities and the once mighty empires of
which they were the pride. The jackal howls among the
broken columns of Tadmor ; the sand-drifts have accumulated
above the splendour of Memphis and Thebes. With their
stones other monuments are raised, other cities are embel-
lished, and other empires, which, in their turn, undergo the
same unalterable fate : a perpetual relation of human forms,
in every respect comparable with that which transpires in the
bosom of the prolific earth, our common mother and nurse.

But why do men wander so far from the straight way ? Why
do they their best to ensure each other's unhappiness ? They
seem, alas ! ignorant of the tendency of their actions, while
attaching themselves to things transitory, and despising things
imperishable. These, indeed, they would utterly ignore j they
would live, like the brutes, unconscious of their destiny, if, at
the bottom of their indestructible conscience, there did not
prevail a glimmer of light, though more or less eclipsed, if
they did not all feel themselves attracted, if they did not all
irresistibly gravitate, some more quickly, others more slowly,
towards the sun of eternal truth and justice. Instead of
moving with sidelong sinuous pace, instead of taking ninety-
nine steps backward for every one hundred taken in advance,
they would all march onward in the way of progress ; were it

ON THE FREEDOM OF THOUGHT. 311

not that they pass their time in clipping their own wings ; were
it not that, to bend their heads the better — Veluti pecora ventri
obedientia — -they check the aspiring flight of that thought which
would soar beyond the present ; in a word, were it not that
they lay a sacrilegious hand — unfortunate wretches ! — on that
which God Himself has respected in His creature — Liberty !
The doubt which perplexes us as to the great problem of our
destiny, — the doubt which allows so much latitude to the
workings of our conscience, — does it not indicate the path
we ought to follow? Should not men regard their freedom
with peculiar reverence, when the Divinity they invoke has
mercifully refrained from fettering it ? Creatures of a day,
who live as if you would never die ! the contradictions and the
miseries of which you so incessantly complain, are your own
work. Help, help yourselves, by the development of your
faculties, by the cultivation of your heart and mind, for herein
you shall see the law and the prophets. Barren lip-service is
nothing better than blasphemy !

But let us return to the ground which we tread, and where
our life -companions are the animals and the plants.

The uppermost stratum of our globe undergoes the direct
action of the light and heat of the all-vivifying " orb of day."
This action, very unequal in its effects, and most important to
understand, has scarcely been touched as yet by scientific
research. Our geologists, having been more busily engaged
with the inside than the outside of the earth, have broached

3 1 2 CHEMICAL A CTION OF LIGHT.

certain plausible theories — for the most part of a very dubious
character — respecting the central fire, Plutonism and Nep-
tunism, the stratification of the planets, the formation of moun-
tains, valleys, and basins. Our mineralogists, thinking far
less of the chemical molecular constitution of the different
formations than of their crystalline constitution, have minutely
studied the physical qualities and geometrical forms of the
integral parts of the rocks ; but neither have condescended to
direct their inquiries to the layer of soil trodden underneath
their feet. Yet this very layer of arable earth, to which all
bodies must return after death what they have taken from it
during life, — this much despised humus, furnishes all our agri-
cultural products, the very foundation and support of our
material existence.

To touch industrial occupations — to meddle with trade,
commerce, or agriculture — is unworthy of Science ! Such is
the silly cry of the many distinguished savants who pride
themselves on what they call their "freedom from selfish con-
siderations."

Be it so ; but then you ought surely to be consistent, and
never regard science as a profession or a bread-winner.

ON THE CHEMICAL ACTION OF LIGHT.
It is no easy study to investigate the modifications and
chemical effects which the terrestrial surface is capable of
receiving or undergoing, either from the direct rays of the sun,
or from diffused light. It requires new methods of inquiry,
— methods frequently of extreme delicacy, as the labours of

ACTION OF HEAT. 313

Bunsen and Roscoe, of Kirchhofer and Tyndall, have abun-
dantly demonstrated. Let us here confine ourselves to estab-
lishing the fact that the chemical action of light varies accord-
ing to the geological constitution of the soil, — according to the
diurnal and annual obliquity of the solar rays, — according to the
hours of the day, — according to the latitudes and seasons. The
maximum of effects is manifested about the times of the sol-
stices.

For the better co-ordination of these phenomena, might
we not, as has been done in regard to the distribution of
heat over the terrestrial surface,* link together by lines the
points of equality? We should thus create an aggregate of
iso-photo-chemical lines, — diurnal, mensual, and annual, — of
incontestible utility for the progress of general physics and
meteorology, which are still in their infancy.

But to realise this magnificent programme, the union and
agreement is necessary of scientific men in every region of
the globe ; an ideal, therefore, as yet, is very far from being
attained.

THE ACTION OF HEAT.

The earth is subject to the influence of two different
sources of heat. One, like the arterial blood, strikes from
the centre to the circumference : this internal heat it is
which has been stored up since the unknown epoch when
our globe was nothing more than an incandescent nucleus,
surrounded by condensable vapours. The other, like the

* Reference is here invited to Humboldt's thermal and isothermal lines.
See Dr A. K. Johnston's "Physical Atlas," and Humboldt's " Kosmos."

3i4 THE LITTLENESS OF KNO WLEDGE.

venous blood, flows from the circumference towards the
centre: this is the solar heat which the earth continues to
receive through its crust.

The first of these sources lies beyond the domain of
experiment. It has been the object of numerous hypotheses
and diverse speculations, with which we shall not here con-
cern ourselves. The second source is alone accessible to
our investigations, and yet the network of isothermal lines is
scarcely defined.

Since the year 1817, when Alexander von Humboldt
conceived the felicitous idea of representing by lines the
same mean temperatures enjoyed, in a given space of time,
by the different regions of the globe, researches of this
nature have very considerably multiplied. But these re-
searches— do not forget — refer rather to the temperature
of the atmosphere than to the heating of the inferior stratum
of that gaseous ocean whose bed or foundation is the ter-
restrial crust. And it is the penetration of the latter by the
sun's calorific rays which we would especially desire to under-
stand. Here, then, a sufficient margin is left for our curiosity.

"If the king, my father, does not rest from his con-
quests," cried Alexander of Macedon, while still a child,
" he will leave me nothing to do when I shall have reached
manhood." To such a complaint, be you sure, dear reader,
that the conquests made by science will never give rise.
Every step in advance is but a step into the infinite : what
we have done only shows us the boundless extent of what
we have to do.

GROUNDS FOR HOPE AND PATIENCE. 315

It is this reflection which must always teach humility to
the scientific student, even while he rejoices in the achieve-
ments of human patience and genius. He will not despair
for he knows that great victories have been won: he will
not grow arrogant, for he knows that he is still on the
threshold of eternal truth. As Sir J. Herschel has justly
said : — " He who has seen obscurities, which appeared im-
penetrable, in physical and mathematical science, suddenly
dispelled, and the most barren and unpromising fields of
inquiry converted, as if by inspiration, into rich and inex-
haustible springs of knowledge and power, on a simple
change of our point of view, or by merely bringing them
to bear on some principle which it never occurred before
to try, will surely be the very last to acquiesce in any dispirit-
ing prospects of either the present or the future destinies of
mankind; while, on the other hand, the boundless views of
intellectual and moral, as well as material relations, which
open to him on all hands in the course of these pursuits, —
the knowledge of the trivial place he occupies in the scale
of creation, and the sense continually pressed upon him of
his own weakness and incapacity to suspend or modify the
slightest movement of the vast machinery he sees in action
around him, must effectually convince him that humility of
pretension, no less than confidence of hope, is what best
becomes his character."*

The temperature of the terrestrial surface perpetually varies

* Sir J. Herschel, " Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural
Philosophy."

3 1 6 VARIA TJONS OF TEMPERA TURE

under the influence of local as well as general causes. Had
this fact been known to the philosophers of antiquity, they
would have taken advantage of it to liken the earth to an
animal whose skin is more or less sensible of heat, not only
according to the difference of the seasons, but according to
the different hours of the day.

The diurnal thermometrical variations are those which
penetrate the least profoundly into the interior of the soil.
At a depth of about five feet they cease to be perceptible.
The maxima and minima of the year, however, can be
detected at a sufficiently considerable depth. The limit
descends as low as 80 to 100 feet. Below 100 feet, the
terrestrial stratum is found invariable, — that is, inaccessible
to the thermometrical changes of the atmosphere. It is
remarkable that the temperature of this stratum differs but
little from the mean annual temperature of the air, which, in
the latitude of London, is 49°.

The maxima and minima of the yearly heat are propagated
very slowly in the earth, and their difference gradually be-
comes less and less. Thermometers buried 26 feet deep
in the ground, mark, in our latitudes, the maximum of tem-
perature only on the loth of December, and the minimum
on the 1 5th of June. But there are certain elements which
we must take into account. Thus, the depth of the invari-
able thermometrical curve depends both on the latitude of
the place, on the conductibility of the strata, and the differ-
ence between the highest and lowest temperature of the year,

HOW THEY AFFECT THE SOIL. 317

The less this difference, the more nearly does the invariable
stratum approach the surface. Here we have the reason
why, in the intertropical torrid zone, where the temperature
scarcely varies above two or three degrees in. the whole year,
the invariable curve is not found more than forty centimetres
beneath the surface.

In the temperate zone, lying between the torrid and the
frigid zones, the same phenomena assume, apparently, a more
complex character ; the isogeothermal lines inflect as diversely
as the isothermal, and the former are far from running parallel
with the latter. And this is easily understood, even without
any experiment, for there is no relation between the ever-
varied composition of the terrestrial strata, and the much
more uniform composition of the atmosphere.

In the frigid zone, the soil remains constantly frozen for
an insignificant depth, whatever may be the temperature of
the encircling atmosphere. In some regions a stratum
of ice and snow eternally reposes on the surface of the
soil.

Unfortunately the observations, which require to be under-
taken on an uniform plan and under well-weighed conditions,
at various points over the whole globe, are as yet far too
few to assist us in defining any general currents of heat cr
cold, whether variable or constant, as prevailing in the lower
strata of the gaseous ocean of our planet.

318 A WORK TO BE DONE.

ARABLE LAND.

A more useful picture than that of the isogeothe^nal lines
would be one of all the arable land covering the continents of
the Old World and the New, — indicating the composition of
this nutritive earth, the nature of the soil on which it reposes,
as well as the various kinds of cultivation appropriate in
different climates. Here is a work to be achieved, — a work
which would benefit the whole human race, — a work differing
vastly from the conquests and achievements of too many of
those " heroes " the world delights to honour.

" Peace hath her victories
More renowned than war."

In this immense task, of which, as yet, not even the out-
lines have been sketched, particular attention would require
to be paid to the subsoil-, for upon this the success of all
cultivation literally depends.

Arable land is the most superficial stratum of the cultivable

terrestrial crust; it
is this which the

_, , this which, properly

ric. 09. — a, Humus, or stratum of arable earth, — the

horizontal line shows the depth reached by the manured and en-
labourer ; b, subsoil; c, subsoil; d, arable earth;

f, humus in an inclined stratum ; f, humus ncheCl by the de-
mixed with subsoil. • ,- f

composition of or-
ganic matter, furnishes to vegetables their principal nourish-
ment. As it varies in thickness, it necessarily presents

VALUE OFSUBSOIL DRAINAGE. 319

one or other of the following circumstances : — ist, The labourer,
penetrating the entire stratum of arable earth (Fig. 69, a), will
strike down to the subsoil (Fig. 69, b) ; or, 2d, he will not tra-
verse the entire stratum (Fig. 69, c) ; or, 3d, after having tra-
versed the entire depth of the humus, he will reach a portion of
the subsoil (Fig. 69, d) \ or, 4th, after having gone through both
humus and subsoil, he will discover another layer of arable earth,
which may be either pure humus, in a thick inclined stratum
(Fig. 69, e), or humus mixed with the debris of the subsoil.

As for the subsoil, it may, by its composition, completely
modify, stimulate, or delay the action of the vegetable mould,
however rich this may be in assimilating principles. Thus,
where the subsoil is argillaceous, the pluvial waters are
arrested by it as by a bed of impervious cement, and render
the ground too damp and cold to yield abundant harvests.
In such a case subsoil-drainage is the best remedy. But if
the earth be porous, the moisture gradually percolates through
its various layers, fertilising and warming, communicating to
the plants the needful humidity, and assisting in the production
of that most glorious of all the scenes of cultivated nature — •
a corn-field thickly ripe with golden grain. In the poet's
" Palace of Art " no finer picture can be seen than this :

" The reapers at their sultry toil.

In front they bind the sheaves. Behind
Are realms of upland, prodigal in oil,
And hoary to the wind."

Oh! a sight to thank God for, and rejoice in, is the field all
aglow with the splendour of the harvest !

320

PLANTS OF CLA YE Y SOIL.

Without having recourse to chemical analysis, which is with-
in the reach of a very limited number of persons, clayey soils

FIG. 70.— "Behind are realms of upland."

may be distinguished by the vegetable species that most com-
monly flourish in them : as —

1. Plants belonging to clayey soils. — The Queen of the Mea-
dows, Spiraa ulmaria (order Rosacece). Wild Angelica,
Angelica sylvestris. Common Sorrel, Rumex acetosa
(order Polygonacece), and various kinds of Ranuncula-
cese, as Ranunculus lingua, Ranunculus flamma, and
Ranunculus scelerattts.

PLANTS AND THEIR SOILS.

II. Ptam's belonging to sandy soils. — Horny Lotus, Lotus

corniculatus (order Rhamnacece). Little Harebell, Cam-
panula rotundifolia (order Campanulacecz). Eyebright,
Euphrasia officinalis (order Scrophulariacece). Anthox-
anthum odoratum.

III. Plants belonging to argilo-calcareous soils. — Coltsfoot,
Tussilago farfara (order Composites). Wild Mustard,
Sinapis arvensis (order Cruciferce). Buckwheat, Poly-
gonum aviculare (order Polygonacecz).

IV. Plants belonging to a sandy and calcareous soil. — Broom,
Genista scoparia (order Leguminoscz). Centaury, Cen-
taurea nigra (order Gentianacece). Galium verum (order
Rubiacea). The Jacobea, Seneecio Jacobcea.

V. Plajits belonging to alluvial and marshy soils. — Reed,
Arundo phragmites, Poa aquatica, Poafluitans. Rush,
Juncus conglomerate (order Juncacece).

After these different soils have been brought under cultiva-
tion, the characteristic species, which we have just enumerated,
disappear, and are replaced by other plants, which grow, to all
appearance, spontaneously, under the name of weeds; but, in
reality, spring from germs or seeds too frequently mixed up
with the different manures, or spread abroad by the agency of
birds or the wind.

In reference to this latter consideration, the diffusion of
plants, we shall transcribe an interesting passage from Balfour's
excellent " Manual of Botany."

•' Some plants," he remarks, " are disseminated generally over

x

322 HOW SEEDS ARE SO WN.

the globe, while others are confined within narrow limits.
Some of the common weeds in Britain, such as chickweed,
shepherd's purse, and groundsel, are found at the southern ex-
tremity of South America. Laura minor and trisu/ca, Convol-
vulus septum, Phragmites communis, Cedium Mariscus, Scirpus
lacustris, Juncus effusus, and Solatium nigrum, are said to be
common to Great Britain and New Holland. Nasturtium
officinal e, and Samolus Valerandi are very extensively diffused,
and they may be reckoned true cosmopolites. They are both
natives of Europe, and they occur, the former near Rio Janeiro,
the latter at St Vincent. The lower the degree of development,
the greater seems to be the range. Some cryptogamic plants, as
Lecanora subfusca, are found all over the globe.

" Man has been instrumental in widely distributing culinary
vegetables, such as the potato, and the cereal grains, as well as
many other plants useful for food and manufacture. Corn
plants, such as barley, oats, rye, wheat, spelt, rice, maize, and
millet, are so generally cultivated over the globe, that almost
all trace is lost of their native country. They can arrive at
perfection in a great variety of circumstances, and they have
thus probably a wider geographical range than any other kind
of plants.

" As regards these plants, the globe may be divided into fve
grand regions — the region of rice, which may be said to support
the greatest number of the human race ; the region of maize;
of wheat ; of rye ; and lastly, of barley and oats. The first
three are the most extensive, and maize has the greatest range
of temperature.

RANGE OF THE CEREALS.

323

" The grains extending farthest north in Europe are barley
and oats. Rye is the next, and is the prevailing grain in
Sweden and Norway, and all the lands bordering on the Baltic,
the North of Germany, and part of Siberia. Wheat follows

FIG. 71.— The Rye District.

rye ; it is cultivated in the middle and South of France, Eng-
land, part of Scotland, part of Germany, Hungary, Crimea,
and the Caucasus. We next come to a district where wheat
still abounds, but no longer exclusively furnishes bread, — rice
and maize becoming frequent. To this zone belong Portugal,
Spain, part of France, Italy, and Greece, Persia, Northern

324 WHEAT AND BARLEY.

India, Arabia, Egypt, the Canary Islands, &c. Wheat can
be reared wherever the mean temperature of the whole
year is not under 37° or 39° R, and the mean summer heat,
for a period of at least three or four months, is above 55°.
It succeeds best on the limits of the sub-tropical region. In
the Scandinavian peninsula, the cultivation of barley extends
to 70° N. latitude, rye to 67°, and oats to 65°. The cultivation
of rice prevails in Eastern and Southern Asia, and it is a
common article of subsistence in various countries bordering
on the Mediterranean. Maize succeeds best in the hottest
and dampest parts of tropical climates. It may be reared as
far as 40° N. and S. latitude on the American continent, on the
western side; while in Europe it can grow even to 50° or
52° of latitude. It is now cultivated in all regions in the
tropical and temperate zones which are colonised by Euro-
peans. Millet of different kinds is met with in the hottest
parts of Africa, in the South of Europe, in Asia Minor, and in
the East Indies." *

Professor Houston furnishes the following table in illustra-
tion of the distribution of wheat and barley. It also shows
the mean temperature which they require : —

BARLEY.

Winter

Summer

Annual

Mean.

Mean.

Mean.

N.

Lat. 62^° Faroe,

39°

51°

45°

70 Lapland,

22

46

33

67-30' Russia,

9

46

32

57-30' Siberia,

o

60

32

Professor Balfour's " Manual of Botany," pp. 566-568.

MUSHROOMS OR AGARICS. 325

WHEAT.

Winter

Summer

Annual

Mean.

Mean.

Mean.

Lat. 58° Scotland, .

• S^0

57°

64°

Norway,

23

59

39

Sweden,

23

59

39

Russia,

15

60

37

30° Cairo,

57

88

72

Macao,

. . 64

82

73

Rio Janeiro,

68

78

74

Havannah,

7i

82

77

Bourbon, .

7i

80

77

" Winds, water, and animals, are also instrumental in dis-
seminating plants. Many seeds, with winged and feathery
appendages, are easily wafted about; others are carried by
rivers and streams, and some can be transported by the ocean
currents to a great distance, with their generating powers un-
impaired."

MUSHROOMS OR AGARICS ( Order FUNGI).

Every year — principally in autumn — we are startled by hear-
ing or reading of cases of poisoning by mushrooms. Erudite
connoisseurs, however, who have profited by Dr Badham's
book on " Esculent Fungi," do not suffer themselves to be in-
timidated by these sad narratives, though, unfortunately, they
are frequently too well founded ; because they know how to
distinguish the good from the ill, the true from the false, the
edible from the poisonous mushroom. But this security ought
not to embolden the inexperienced amateur in risking his life
for the sake of a delicacy. It is true, nevertheless, that we
frequently see men's lives exposed for something less.

" Look, what a splendid mushroom I have discovered ! " a

326 THE TRUE AND THE FALSE.

lady said to me, the other day; a lady who knew something of
flowers, but nothing of cryptogams. " Take care ! " I replied,
taking from her hand the supposed prize ; " this is the false
mushroom ; and would suffice, if served up at your table, to
poison yourself and all your guests."

I ought here to observe that my friend had narrowly escaped
death two years before, through regaling herself with a dish of
mushrooms of very dubious character. Among the symptoms
which she experienced, and which she described with medical
exactness, she particularly dwelt upon the cold sweats, accom-
panied by a sentiment of undefinable terror, which is nothing
else than the dread of death : it was the special symptom of
poisoning with an unwholesome fungus.

Let us endeavour to make ourselves better acquainted with
this formidable enemy of epicures. You will have no difficulty
in finding it in any warm, close season, but especially in spring
and autumn. The toadstool thrives indifferently in the shade
of all the forest trees, but seems to prefer the oak and birch to
the pine and fir. A patch of soft greensward, at the foot of an
old oak, and in the neighbourhood of a "brawling stream " or
" tranquil pool," will generally be covered with fungi of this
description. The numerous synonyms attaching to it show how
greatly it has exercised the classifying spirit of our naturalists.
Some call it Agaricus muscarius, as if we should say J kill-fly
mushroom;" others, changing only the specific designation,
designate it Agaricus pseudo-aurantiacus, — which signifies,
literally, " false orange," in allusion to the beautiful yellow
colour of the true aurantiacus. What is certain is, that our

HOW THE TRUE MAY BE KNOWN. 327

mushroom, which can kill men as well as flies, belongs to the
genus Agaric, so numerous in species that it can be formed into
a family, that of the Agaricece. The Agarics, of which the

FIG. 72. — "At the foot of an old oak."

esculent mushroom (Agaricus edulis) represents the type, are
easily recognised by their more or less fleshy pileus, or cap,
garnished underneath with lamella, or gills, which radiate from
the centre to the circumference, when the pedicel is in the
centre.

323 HO W THE FALSE MA Y BE KNO WJST.

But some cryptogamists are unwilling to recognise the orange
mushrooms (les oronges), whether true or false, as Agarics.
They place them in a separate genus, the genus Amanita,
though without informing us where they found the name.
Meanwhile, they justify the formation of the new genus by the
presence of the white swelling, the volva, or wrapper, of the
mycelium, or spawn, which entirely covers both the true and
the false mushroom on its emergence from the earth. Each,
then, is an Amanita. But now remark their specific difference.
The true mushroom, as it develops, ruptures its ovoid wrapper,
or volva, leaving the remains entirely at the base of the
pedicel ; while, in the false mushroom, the debris of the volva
are formed, not only at the base of the pedicel, as in the real
Agaric, but even upon the red surface of the pileus itself:
these are the white irregular warts characteristic of the Amanita,
but wholly wanting in the Agaricus. Thus, there are two
Amanitas : the Amanita muscaria, or " fly agaric," and the
Amanita aurantiaca, or, as the English botanists call it, Agaricus
Ccesareus, the imperial mushroom.

This fanciful " study " in nomenclature has the advantage of
initiating us into the most essential distinctive characters of
the two species in question. However, a few additional de-
tails are necessary to complete our history.

THE FLY AGARIC, OR AMANITA MUSCARIA.
The species seems to have been expressly created to teach
our gourmands the necessity of vigilance ; that before enjoying
a dainty they must first learn to distinguish, under penalty of

THE FLY A GARIC DESCRIBED. 3 2 9

death, the poisonous fungus from that which safely and plea-
santly tickles the palate. The warning is useful, moreover, as
showing that even sensualists are not wholly exempt from the
law of work.

The Amanita, like most falsehoods, is pleasant to the sight.
Its round pileus, of a beautiful orange-red colour, spotted with
white warts, and lined with white gills,
seems to invite your attention. (Fig. 73.)
Strike it down with your stick; the
lamellae or gills underneath resemble the
white leaves of a book. Its graceful
stalk, ornamented on the upper part by
a well-designed necklet, is bulbous in its
lower portion ; its flesh is dazzlingly

FIG. 73.— The Amanita

white ; in short, its entire appearance is M^caria.

attractive. Yet it is a traitor ! You little know the depth of
its wickedness. Mix a few shreds of its white flesh with a
little milk ; every fly which drinks of the mixture will, in a few
seconds, fall dead, their swollen abdomen bearing testimony
to the effect of the poison. And in many districts of Ger-
many, particularly in Thuringia, the peasants make use of it
to rid themselves of the swarms of flies which, towards the
close of summer, infest their habitations. It is thus that man
may frequently turn to his advantage those objects of nature
which, at the first glance, appear injurious rather than useful.

Various experiments have been essayed to test the intoxi-
cating influence of our Amanita. Bulliard, author of the
" Histoire des Champignons de France," made two cats

330 SOME POISONOUS VARIETIES.

partake of it. Six hours afterwards, these animals, who are
so tenacious of life, were dead.

Haller, in his "Histoire des Plantes Vene'neuses de la
Suisse," says that " the Agaricus muscarius (Amanita muscaria)
cannot be eaten with impunity, six Lithuanians having died of
it ; and in Kamtschatka it has been known to excite deadly
attacks of delirium, accompanied by so deep a despondency,
that those who have eaten of it would fain fling themselves
into the fire, or fall upon their knives or daggers." This,
however, we take to be an exaggeration. The truth is, that in
Kamtschatka it is used to produce intoxication ; and such is its
strength, it imparts an intoxicating property to the urine of those
who swallow it. When the fungus itself is not at hand, the
would-be drunkard frequently resorts to this nauseous potion.

The flesh of the Amanita is not yellow. Yet Vicat speaks
of poisonings produced by the Yellow Amanita. " I had much
difficulty," says this physician, "in saving two families of
Lausanne, poisoned through eating a very small quantity of
mushrooms, which the father in the one case, and the mother
in the other, had mistaken for Agarid Casarei, though they
were both esteemed great connoisseurs, and especially in this
species ; nor had they been once deceived for upwards of
thirty years, until they indulged themselves in this delicious but
deceitful dish."

These poisonings could have been occasioned only by the
Amanita. Some varieties exist, in which the under surface of
the pileus is yellow, but the flesh is white. To one of these
varieties Vicat's anecdote probably refers.

THE AMANITA SOLITAR1US DESCRIBED. 331

Thus, the Amanita formosa of Persoon has pedicel, pileus,
and warts of the pileus, of a citron yellow. It is but a variety
of the Amanita muscaria.

The Amanita umbrina of the same botanist (the Agaricus
pantherinus of De Candolle) has an olive-coloured pileus ; its
surface, like that of Amanita muscaria, is covered with white
scales.

The Amanita solitarius is distinguished by the size of its
umbilical cap, — sometimes depressed in the centre, — which is
furnished with a great number of white or pale brown scales ;
when fully developed, it measures from thirty to forty centi-
metres in diameter. The pedicel is bulbous, with a mem-
branous ring, white as snow, clasped around it ; at the base
it is clothed in pellicles, the remains of its scaly volva. The
flesh is firm, thick, and white. You rarely meet with more
than two or three individuals in the same locality ; hence its
name of solitarius. Bulliard speaks of the flesh as good to
eat, when cooked on a gridiron, and seasoned with fresh
butter, salt, and pepper. It is possible. But as it is so easily
confused with the poisonous species, the author of the " His-
toire des Champignons " would have done better to prohibit its
consumption, whether eatable or not.

We may now turn to the method adopted by Dr Vicat to
save the lives of the two families at Lausanne, who, as we
have seen, were poisoned by partaking of the Amanita ; —

I dissolved, he says, six grains of tartar emetic in a litre of
water, and from time to time administered a spoonful to my

332 A CASE OF POISONING.

patients ; moreover, I made them swallow floods of warm
water, sweetened with a little honey, — that is, a large tea-
spoonful of honey to a cupful of water.

I had much difficulty to get one of the sufferers, who was
sixty years old, to swallow the first few spoonfuls. He was
plunged into a lethargic insensibility differing in no respect
from complete apoplexy ; his teeth were closely set Those
whom I had ordered to administer the mixture had given it
up, after several useless attempts ; and in all probability the
old man would have sunk, had I not had the patience to hold,
for some hours, against his teeth the back of the blade of a
small silver knife, so as to profit by the few moments when
the teeth were a little less firmly clenched. I used some force
to make the blade act as a wedge, and after a while opened
up a passage to the handle, which, serving as a lever, forced
the jaws sufficiently apart to admit the introduction of a spoon-
ful of the emetic. It was not, however, until fully two hours
had passed that the patient, having undoubtedly swallowed
the necessary dose, began to vomit, with strenuous efforts
and frightful cries. This was at midnight. Four in the
morning arrived before, after numerous alternations of vomit-
ing and profound lethargy, he began to speak, and then like
a man in delirium. After the first vomit, which was incon-
siderable, the convulsions of his whole body were so very
violent as to require four men to hold him, while I continued
to make use of my knife as at first. Nor did I desist until I
was satisfied that his stomach had been sufficiently cleansed.
After this, I applied two strong blisters to the back of his legs.

BANE AND ANTIDOTE. 333

As these acted, the purging subsided, and at the end of twenty-
four hours it had passed away entirely, the invalid finding
himself as well as could be expected after sustaining so severe
a shock. The other patients, who were not in so much dan-
ger, experienced twitchings and tremblings in the face, which
quite disfigured them ; the brain seemed a blank ; though
awake, they felt as in a dream, and their visions were most
frightful.

It is evident, from these particulars, that mushroom-poison-
ing specially affects the encephalic nervous system, and that
the best remedies are emetics and antispasmodics. In our
present ignorance of what are the poisonous principles in the
Amanita, we can adopt no other method than a chemical
neutralisation.

AGARICUS C^ESAREUS, OR IMPERIAL MUSHROOM.
In this mushroom, for which, as we have seen, the Amanita
is too frequently mistaken, the inside as well as the outside is
yellow ; the upper surface of the pileus, which is equally free
from scales and warts, is, however, of a reddish yellow, like
that of an orange (whence the popular French name, la vrai
oronge) ; all the other parts are of a beautiful citron hue. This
agaric exhales an agreeable odour, combined apparently of the
scent of the vanilla and the truffle. It decomposes rapidly, and
when in a state of advanced putridity, the fragrance I speak of
is succeeded by — well, by a fearful stench ! When young, and
still completely covered with its wrapper or volva (this, in the
Amanita, is imperfect), it is very like a hen's egg which has

334 THE BOLETUS OF THE ROMANS.

been partly buried in the ground so as to expose only the
larger end. It seems partial to solitude ; more than four or
five are seldom found in the same locality. Moreover, in
autumn it affects the same habitats as the Amanita, — which
is unfortunate.

It would seem that our imperial mushroom was specially
appreciated by the ancients, and it is said
that Nero pronounced it a dish fit for
the gods. In this circumstance origi-
nated the scientific name which has now
become popular, and which was first ap-
plied to it by the cryptogamist Fries,
Agaricus Ccesareus.

FIG. 74.— The Imperial
Mushroom.

The Boletus of Pliny appears to have been our Agaricus, and
not one of our Boleti, which are easily recognised by the
numerous tubercular projections covering the under part of
the pileus. In proof of this I would point out that the
Roman naturalist, after speaking of the Bokti as genuine
delicacies, immediately inveighs against them as dangerously
poisonous. He relates that it was with one of these, or rather
with one of the false mushrooms so easily mistaken for the
true, that Agrippina poisoned the Emperor Claudius, to secure
the imperial crown for her son Nero.*

The virtues of the mushrooms have been sung by Juvenal
and Martial. The latter accurately distinguishes the true
from the false, when reproaching Caecilianus with his gluttony.
* Pliny, " Hist. Nat.," xxii. 46.

VARIETIES OF AGARICS. 335

" Ah, you are used to devour your Bokti alone, in the face
of your invited guests ; eat then, the Boletus which Claudius

ate!"

"Die mihi, quis furor est? Turba spectante vocata,
Solus boletos, Casciliane, voras.
Quid dignum tanto tibi ventri, gulaque precabor ?
Boletum, qualem Claudius edit, edas."*

The best known and most valuable species of Agarici may
be briefly enumerated : —

Agaricus campestris, or Common Mushroom, found in nearly
all temperate regions : pileus convex, and white, with a tinge
of brown ; thick set on the under side with dark brown gills ;
stem firm and fleshy, and surrounded by a white membranous
ring.

Agaricus Casareus, or Imperial Mushroom, the Kaiser ling of
the Germans, already described.

Agaricus deliciosus, or Orange-milked Agaric, found in coverts
of fir and juniper; pileus viscid, orange, and upwards of four
inches broad ; gills and juice of a fine orange colour.

Agarictis procerus, or Parasol Mushroom, found in the shade
of trees, on meadows with a sandy soil ; stem from eight to
twelve inches high, with a thick spongy ring; pileus bell-
shaped, and covered with brown scales.

Agaricus Virgineus, or White Field Agaric, found in rich moist
* Martial, "Epigram.," i. 21.

336 VARIETIES OF AGARICS,

pastures ; pileus whitish, and convex ; gills of a light chocolate
shade ; stem nearly two inches broad.

Agaricus eburneits, or Ivory Mushroom, found in beech woods ;
grayish-yellow pileus ; broad gills ; stem long and scaly.

Agaricus Georgii, St George's Agaric, or Whitecaps, found in
moist pastures, and in the shelter of old barns, farmhouses, and
churches ; flesh yellow ; gills yellowish-white ; pileus twelve to
eighteen inches broad ; the least valuable of British species of
agaric, but useful in ketchup-making.

Agaricus oreades, Fairy-ring Mushroom, or Scotch bonnets,
found in meadows, where it grows in circles known as " fairy
rings ;" pileus seldom exceeds an inch in diameter; stem
solid, tough, and fibrous, with a boss or umbo in the centre, of
a light brown colour • the flesh white, and of a pleasant odour.

Agaricus odorus, Anise Mushroom, or Sweet-scented Agaric;
pileus slightly convex, about three inches broad, and with pale
gills ; the scent like that of anise ; stem strong, fleshy, but
not very tall.

Agaricus formosus, or Smoky Mushroom ; so called from the
colour of the upper surface of the pileus ; the stalk and gills of
a pale yellow ; grows in fir woods.

Agaricus primulus, or Mousseron, grows in woods and pas-

FROM A POET'S PAGES. 357

tures, where the soil is sandy; pileus convex, yellow, about
three or four inches in diameter ; gills change from white to
flesh colour.

How many Vegetable Species exist over the whole surface of the

Globe?

I will not do my readers the injustice to suppose that they
are unacquainted with the writings of our greatest English
poetess, Elizabeth Barrett Browning. They will not fail to
have been attracted by the prodigal genius, the superabundant
power, the exquisite imagery, the profound spirit of tenderness,
the high, pure thoughts, which render almost every page such
delightful reading. Successful as she was, however, in giving
expression to the most subtle emotions and the intensest feeling,
I think she was even happier in her descriptions of scenery.
These are invariably aglow with life and colour, and have all
the fidelity of Creswick with the imaginative insight of Turner.
Turning over her " Aurora Leigh," the other day, I lighted on
the following beautiful picture : —

" I flattered all the beauteous country round,
As poets use — the skies, the clouds, the fields,
The happy violets, hiding from the roads
The primroses run down to, carrying gold —
The tangled hedgerows, where the rows push out
Their tolerant horns and patient churning mouths
'Twixt dripping ash-boughs—hedgerows all alive
With birds, and gnats, and large white butterflies,
Which look as if the May-flower had caught life
And palpitated forth upon the wind :
Hills, vales, woods, netted in a silver mist j
Farms, granges, doubled up among the hilis,

f

338

A SYMPATHY WITH NATURE.

And cattle grazing in the watered vales,
And cottage chimneys smoking from the woods,
And cottage gardens smelling everywhere,
Confused with smell of orchards."

_.

FlG. 75._ « And cattle grazing in the watered vales."

As I read this fine passage, the thought occurred to me,
How many thousands there are who, in such a scene as it so

NUMBER OF VEGETABLE SPECIES. 339

vividly depicts, would see no beauty whatever, whose heart
would not respond to it, whose sympathies would not be
aroused by all its variety of outline and all its rich magnificence
of colour ! Yet not in so wide a landscape alone, but in the
smallest nook, — in the little clump of elms by the side of the
stream, in yonder grassy knoll rising straight up from the old
churchyard, in the quiet angle of the green pasture-meadows,
— there is a whole world of wonder and beauty for him who
has eyes to see and a heart to feel ! Look at the flowery bank
which runs along the side of an English lane. Is it not
crowded with objects of the rarest and purest interest?
Count the many varieties of grasses which clothe it so abun-
dantly, count the many species of flowers and herbs which
adorn it with a grace beyond all human skill, and acknowledge
that in itself it might supply the inquirer with matter for years
of study and meditation.

Pursuing this train of thought, I was led to think of the
number of genera and species into which the plant world is
divided, — a remarkable proof, not only of the power and
wisdom, but of the goodness of the Creator, of His desire to
furnish man with inexhaustible sources of pleasure and enter-
tainment ; and finally, to put to myself the question, How
many vegetable species exist over the whole surface of the
globe? If this corner of a leafy English lane is so rich in
variety, what must be the case with " the wide, wide world ? "

I was now brought to see that a question so difficult could,
like so many others, be usefully approached only by its
inferior limit ; in other words, that in the actual condition of

340 DIFFERENCES OF ESTIMATE.

botanical science, we can but affirm the number which cer-
tainly exceeds the sum of the vegetable species scattered over
the surface of our earth. To determine this total with mathe-
matical accuracy, we should need to have explored the
terrestrial crust, liquid and solid, land and water, from the
bed of ocean to the line of perpetual snow, and from the
equator to the poles. And as yet we are very far from having
obtained so complete a possession of the planet which has
been assigned as a dwelling-place to our poor humanity, —
alas, more presumptuous than powerful I

The number of plants mentioned by Theophrastus, Dios-
corides, and Pliny, whom we take to be the representatives
of ancient botany, does not exceed five hundred species.
How very few, compared with the presumable total! The
Middle Ages added scarcely anything to the botanical re-
searches of antiquity. It is only since the discovery of America
that we have seen the domain of Flora extending itself in
unexpected proportions. But we must come down to the
epoch of Linnaeus (the middle of the eighteenth century)
before we can obtain an accurate list of species, scientifically
classified. Murray's edition of the " Specilegium " of Linnaeus
contains two thousand and forty-two species, including the
Cryptogams. Wildmore, in another edition of the same great
work, raised the total to twenty thousand. And this was
the point at which our botanists had arrived when the nine-
teenth century opened.

But it was not long before they perceived that all these

WHERE KNOWLEDGE IS IMPERFECT. 34*

estimates, large as they seemed, fell immeasurably short of
the reality. In attempting to distribute the different species
among the then known regions of the globe, Alexander
von Humboldt arrived at a total of forty-four thousand
species, Phanerogams and Cryptogams included. De Can-
dolle extended the estimate to upwards of fifty-six thousand.

Let us divide, in fancy, the earth into two parts, — one which
has been visited by travellers, and one which still remains
to be explored. Can you determine which would present the
larger area ? The latter.

Thus we possess but a very imperfect knowledge of the
luxuriant, the glowing vegetation of the tropical and sub-
tropical regions of the New World, in spite of the labours
of Bates, Agassiz, Wallace, and others. To the north of the
equator, we know very little of the flora of Yucatan, Guatemala,
Nicaragua, the isthmus of Panama, the Chaco of Antioquius,
the province of Los Pastes. We are not much better ac-
quainted with the vegetation of the countries south of the
equator. What do we know of the manifold species flourish-
ing in Paraguay, in the province of the Missions, in the
immense wooded region between the Ucayali, the Rio de
la Madeira, and the Tocantin, three affluents of the mighty
river Amazon ? We know scarcely anything.

Our ignorance increases if from America we pass to Africa.
Nearly the whole interior of this continent, from 15° N.
latitude to 20° S. latitude, is, botanically speaking, a blank
to us. The same is the case with the greater portion of
Central Asia. The floras of the south and south-east of

342 WHERE KNOWLEDGE TERMINATES.

Arabia are still sealed letters, — treasuries to which we have
not found the key. As much may be said of the floras of
the countries situated between the Thian-Schan, the Kuen-
lung, and the Himalaya, as well as of the floras of western
China, and most of the trans-Gangetic countries. We know
still less of the vegetation of the interior of Madagascar,
Borneo, New Guinea, and the greater part of Australia. To con-
clude : we are probably not acquainted with more than one-fifth
of the vegetable species which cover the surface of our globe.
There are regions, moreover, which we imagine will always
lie outside of our sphere of investigation ; such, for instance,
are the Polar regions, properly so called. Undoubtedly, it
is open to us to conjecture that the Poles — those two extremi-
ties of our axis of planetary rotation — are not the home of
any form of life. But this is only a conjecture ; we are even
without an analogy for it; since we have found, as shown
in an earlier chapter of the present volume, living beings,
plants, and animals, among the snows of our loftiest moun-
tains. Moreover, might not the auroras, whose maximum of
intensity occurs exactly at the poles, render life possible in
regions where we at present suppose it to be /^possible ? Con-
jecture for conjecture,— acknowledge that we here touch in both
cases upon an element completely beyond our human power.

These, then, are the reasons why, at present, we can only
venture upon defining the lower limit, the restricted number,
above which we are unable to fix the total of vegetable species
living on the surface of our planet.

HUMBOLDTS MODE OF CALCULATION. 343

The method to be adopted has been indicated by Alex-
ander von Humboldt in his " Ansichten der Natur " (" Pictures
of Nature "). His method consists in the comparison of the
vegetable families whose numerical relations are known, with
the number of species contained in our herbariums, or culti-
vated in our botanical gardens.

But here, at the outset, a difficulty confronts us. Does any
relation exist between the classification of plants by natural
families and by their geographical distribution ?

To group plants according to their analogies of structure,
we study them from an abstract point of view, and without
any regard to the medium in which they flourish. The ques-
tion grows complicated if we also take into consideration
their characteristic conditions and their distribution over
the terrestrial surface. Families are then split asunder,
and the importance of our scientific classifications disap-
pears.

The gathering together of a small number of species, repre-
sented by innumerable individuals, confined within the same
area, may suffice to communicate to a landscape its character-
istic physiognomy: as, for example, is the case with the
Asiatic steppes, the landes of Brittany, the moors of Scotland,
the palm-groves and the clumps of Cactacese of tropical
America. By the side of species which impress us by their
mass — that is, by the frequent reproduction of the same
individuals at an infinitesimal distance from one another —
are placed those much more numerous species which are
everywhere very thinly sown.

344 QUESTIONS TO BE ANSWERED.

But do the plants themselves follow, from the equator to
the poles, the same law of decrease as obtains from the base
to the summit of the loftiest equatorial mountains ?

Under identical isothermal lines, is the ratio of families
known and identified to the probable aggregate of Phanero-
gams the same, in the temperate zone, on either side of the
equator ?

What are the vegetable families which preponderate at the
two extremes, represented by the torrid and the frigid zones ?

Under the same geographical latitude, or between the
same isothermal lines, are the Synantherae, the Gramineae, the
Leguminosae, the Labiatae, the Cruciferse, the Umbelliferse,
more numerous in the Old than in the New World ?

What families, either through their mass of individuals or
their number of species, take precedence of the other Phanero-
gams?

How many species of one and the same family belong to
any particular country ?

What groups or families are characteristic of each zone ?

Is the present classification of genera and species in all
respects what could be desired ?

These are questions that require to be considered, and to
some of them we shall presently attempt replies.

Herbariums, though their classification is too frequently
imperfect, may furnish us with data of great utility. The
great herbarium of Benjamin Delessert was estimated, after
his death, to contain 86,000 species, — a total not widely

A GLANCE AT BOTANIC GARDENS. 345

differing from that which Lindley, in 1835, estimated as the
probable aggregate of the vegetable species of the world.

Great in importance are botanic gardens. Loudon, in his
Hortus Britannicus (ed. 1832), places at 22,660 the number of
Phanerogams cultivated in the gardens of the Bristol amateur
botanists. With this number we must not confound the living
species exhibited, in other counties, in gardens designed for
the instruction of students, nor the grand total reared for a
similar purpose at Kew. Kunth's enumeration, in 1861, of the
plants at the Botanic Gardens at Berlin, one of the richest in
Europe, amounted to upwards of 14,000 species, including
375 heaths. Among the Phanerogams were 1600 Synan-
therae, 1150 Leguminosae, 428 Labiatae, 370 Umbelliferae, 460
Orchidaceae, 60 Palmacese, 600 Gramineae and Cyperaceae, &c.
By comparing these data with the number of species described
in the works of De Candolle, Walpers, Bentham, Lindley,
Kunth, and others, we find that in the Berlin gardens are culti-
vated only one-seventh of the known species of the Synantherae,
one-eighth of the Leguminosae, one-ninth of the Gramineae, and
about one-fiftieth of the smaller families, such as the Labiatae
and Umbelliferse.

Now, if we admit that, on the one hand, the number of
phanerogamous species cultivated in all the great gardens of
Europe is about 30,000, and, on the other, that the cultivated
Phanerogams form about one-eighth part of the species de-
scribed in books and preserved in herbariums, we obtain a
total of 24,000 species.

346 AN ESTIMATED TOTAL.

But the Cryptogams, or Agams, such as heaths, mosses,
lichens, mushrooms, fungi, mould, and the like, of which our
knowledge, as yet, is very imperfect, are probably much more
numerous in species than the Phanerogams j for these vege-
tables, mostly microscopical, develop themselves wherever
life can manifest itself — on the barren and denuded rocks, as
well as in the air and in the depths of the ocean. If we sup-
pose that they exceed only by 2000 the estimated number of
Phanerogams, we shall obtain a total of just half-a-million !

Such, in our opinion, is the number which approximatively
represents the lower limit of the aggregate of vegetable
species (phanerogamous and cryptogamous) inhabiting our
planet. The innumerable individuals of this half-million of
species are born, and live, and reproduce their kind, and die,
like the twelve hundred millions of individuals of our solitary
human species. The former, it is true, remain fixed to the
soil which has witnessed their birth, while the latter wander,
more or less freely over the terrestrial surface. Do not
animals enjoy the same privilege of locomotion? Un-
doubtedly. But men boast of the reason and the conscience
with which they are endowed. Agreed. But with the
exception of a small number — the infinite minority of progress
— to what advantage have men employed the reason and the
conscience of which they boast ?

But this is a digression. We proceed to place before the
reader a few final data in illustration of the subject we have
been considering — the number of existing vegetable species.

A PAGE OF FIGURES. 347

The following is an estimate of the known species of plants
on the globe at different dates : —

Phanerogams. Cryptogams. Total.

According to Linnaeus, 1753, 5,323 615 5,93$

Pusoon, 1807, 19,949 6,000 25,949

Stendel, 1824, 39>684 io>765 50,649

Stendel, 1841, 78,000 13,000 91,000

Stendel, 1844, 80,000 15,000 9S,ooo

The advance made of late years in the knowledge of existing
species will be apparent from a consideration of Lindley's
estimate in 1846 : —

Genera. Species.

Thallogens, ... 939 8,394

Acrogens, , . , 310 4,086

Rhizogens, . . . ' 21 53

Endogens, . . . 1,420 13,684

Dictyogens, ... 17 268

Gymnogens, . . . 37 210

Exogens, . . . 6,191 16,225

Total, 8,935 92>92O

According to Hinds, the following families are almost en-
tirely restricted to particular divisions of the globe : —

To Europe — Globulariaceae, Ceratophyllaceae.

To Asia — Dipterocarpaceae, Aquilariaceae, Camelliaceae,
Moringaceae, Stilaginaceae.

To Africa — Bmniaceae, Brexiaceae, Belvisiacese, Penaeaceae.

To North America — Sarraceniacese.

To South America — Rhizobolaceas, Gillesiaceae, Calycer-
aceae, Vochysiaceae, Simarubaceae, Monimiaceae, Hu-
miriaceae, Papayaceae, Gesneraceae, Lacistemaceae.

348 PREDOMINANT NATURAL FAMILIES.

To Australasia — Goodeniaceae, Epacridaceas, Stackhousi-

aceae, Brunoniacese, Tremandraceae.

[A group of plants occurring only in one of the six great
divisions of the world is called monomic, (from /AOVOS one, and
VO/A^, a region).

A group common to two divisions is dinomic; to three, tri-
nomic ; to four, quatrinomic ; to all the divisions, polynomicl\

NATURAL FAMILIES PREDOMINANT IN THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE.

Aceraceae,

Cistaceae,

Magnoliaceae,

Alismacese,

Coniferae,

Onagraceae,

Amentaceae,

Cruciferss,

Orobanchaceae,

Artocarpese

Dipsacaceae,

Papaveraceae,

(fam. Articaceae),

Elasagnaceae,

Ranunculaceae,

Aurantiaceae,

Fumariaceae,

Residaceae,

Berberaceae,

Grossulariaceas,

Rosaceae,

Boraginaceae,

Hamamelidaceae,

Rutaceae,

Campanulacese,

Hippocastaneae

Saxifragaceae,

Caprifoliaceae,

(fam. Sapindaceae),

Umbelliferae,

Caryophyllaceae,

Hypericaceae,

Vacciniaceae.

NATURAL FAMILIES PREDOMINANT IN THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE.

Atnaryllidaceae,

Atherospermaceae,

Cactaceae,

Capparidaceae,

Crassulaceae,

Dilleniaceoe,

Diosmeae

(fam. Rutacese),
Geraniaceae,
Haemodoraceae,

Heliotropeae

(fam. Ehretiaceae),
Iridaceae,
Malpighiaceae,
Melastomaceae,
Mesembryaceae,
Myoporineae

(fam. Verbenaceae),
Myrtaceae,
Oxalidaceae.

Pittosporaceae,

Polygalaceae,

Proteaceae,

Restiaceae,

Scsevoleae

(fam. Goodeniaceae),
Spigeleae

(fam. Loganiacese),
Stylidiaceae.

IN THE INSECT WORLD. 349

THE HARVEST BUG.

" I very much wish," said my friend T. to me one day, " to

buy a small estate in the vicinity of Forest. If there

should be one to sell, pray let me know of it."

It was not long before an opportunity arose for my friend to
satisfy his desire. But after I had made him acquainted with
it, he declared himself no longer willing to purchase a property
in a district where, as he had learned, one was devoured by
red beasts all through the finest months of the year. What a
frightful neighbourhood to live in, where you were forbidden to
walk in your garden under pain of catching an itch in your
legs!

Unquestionably, it is only too true that the cultivated ground,
whether on the northern or the southern slope of the forest,
is infested, from the beginning of summer to the beginning of
winter, by Lilliputian horrors, like so many tiny red points,
which cling obstinately to the skin, and there deposit, under
the epidermis, their microscopic brood. Once planted there,
the rougets, as the French call them, or harvest bugs, as we
English call them, effect considerable mischief; and if, to
relieve one's self, one indulges in " a scratch," the cutaneous
surface is quickly covered by small blisters, which on a cursory
examination might be taken for a skin affection not generally
named in polite hearing.

But one does not perceive the galleries excavated by these
annoying insects, positive tunnels or covered ways, through
which they proceed to pour forth elsewhere the superfluity of

350 A MINUTE TORMENTOR.

their numerous progeny. Less prolific than the Acari, which
create upon the skin immense patches of irritation, the harvest
bugs confine themselves to a few circumscribed localities : their
favourite choice being the legs, the arms, and the corners of
the eyes, especially among young children. They are not
above domestic animals ; cats and dogs frequently suffer from
them, — not, indeed, over the whole surface of the body, for
they are not so wandering as the Acari, — but particularly inside
the shell of the ear.

At the first glance you would scarcely believe that those red
points, apparently immovable, could be living beings, — could
be animals belonging to an order of some importance.

Let us attempt to isolate one of the animalcules with the
point of a pin : it is not an easy thing to do, because they
usually adhere to the epidermis in clusters of three or four
individuals. There, now we have succeeded, and here is one
before us : it is only the fifth of a millimetre in diameter, which
is, for most people, the very last limit of the visual function
b a (see the small white line in Fig 76, a).

And, in truth, it would be impercep-
tible to the eye but for its bright red
9 colour. To study it carefully, of
course, you must make use of a very
strong lens, or, rather, of a micro-

FIG. 76. — a Leptus Autumnalis

(nat. size), b Ditto (mag.) , scope. (See Fig. 76, b.)

To this tiny animal has been given the name of Leptus
autumnalis ; the first, on account of its extreme deli-

ITS CHARACTERISTICS DESCRIBED. 351

cacy; the second, because it is visible up to the end of
uutumn.

When examined through a microscope, it produces on the
spectator the impression of a spider ; but, like all other insects,
it has only six legs.

Our naturalists, however, have found some difficulty in
classifying it ; and by way of cutting the Gordian knot of their
embarrassments, some have placed it in a separate family of
Microphthircz (literally " little lice "), which is made to include
all Arachnidse with six legs. Others, who regard the wheat
worm as an insect, rank it among the parasitical Apterae.

In effect, it has all the characters of the parasitical insect —
its protracted head, distinct from the rest of its body, is some-
times thrust forward in quest of its food, sometimes drawn
back or concealed, to protect it from danger. Intended to
suck rather than to knead or bruise, it has a sucker, but no
mandibles. The head is without antennae, and its palpi are
very short, barely visible, and of a conical form. The body is
ovular and very soft (whence the Grecian name leptus, \inrte,
signifying "soft"). The anterior part, corresponding to the
thorax, is broader than it is long, and is marked underneath,
on each side of the central line, by a black point : these
two points, symmetrically placed, appear to represent the
eyes.

The posterior portion, corresponding to the abdomen, is
longer than it is broad, and covered with hairs. Each leg
consists of six joints, easily distinguished by the hairs inserted
at each articulation ; and each terminates in a couple of strong

352 A FACT THAT IS A FACT.

crooked daws, which enable the animal to obtain a firm hold
on the skin.

Thus, then, to judge from the aggregate of its characters,
the harvest bug, Leptus autumnalis, belongs to the class
Arachnidae, while the number of its feet places it in the class
Insects. But this is a detail which causes little annoyance to a
person being devoured by the " red beasts," and only anxious
to rid himself of them.

But if such be his desire, let me tell him that the best
remedies are bathing the afflicted part with lotions of vinegar,
or rubbing it with sulphur ointment.

I have been asked whether certain tiny parasites, such as
the Ocypete rubra^ — which is also red, and has six feet like the
Leptus autumnalis, but which, instead of attacking man and
his domestic companions, attaches itself to flies, — I have
been asked whether these insectiform Arachnidse may not be
species of larva not yet arrived at their matured condition.

For my part, I must acknowledge that, whether the Ocypete
rubra is or is not the transitory state of a more perfect animal,
I do not know. But I am sure that the Leptus autumnalis lives
and dies on the skin where it has selected its dwelling-place, —
a living dwelling-place.

It is impossible to be too circumspect in the determination
of certain genera and species, whose different phases of exist-
ence are little known, and which seem, so far as their charac-
teristics are concerned, to participate of several orders or

CONFUSION IN CLASSIFICATION. 353

classes of articulated animals. The errors which have been
committed in this respect ought at least to teach us caution.

Thus, the red, oval, six-legged animalcules, whose mobile
heads are furnished with a proboscis shaped like an angular
beak, and whose two palpi are large and semi-transparent, —
the singular animalcules which, in June or July, are hatched
in the spongy stems of certain aquatic vegetables, — notably
the Potamogeton natans, — have been described * as forming a
peculiar genus of Arachnidae, the genus Achlysia ; and this
genus, created by Audouin, was ranked along with the Leptus
and Ocypete in the family of Microphthirae. Yet nothing is
less exact. These Achlysia are simply the larvae of a kind of
Hydrachna or water-acarus. To be convinced of this, you have
but to watch their development. At first very small and
pear-shaped, these larvae, deprived, like all larvae, of the
reproductive organs, rapidly increase in size. At the end of
a few weeks you will see them adhering to a leaf of potamo-
geton ; they thrust their proboscis into the stem, and cling to
it with their palpi. Little by little, the legs, the proboscis,
and the palpi, are drawn back towards the body, abandoning
the skin which has hitherto formed for each of these organs a
kind of horny sheath. From the larva state, the animal passes
into that of the nymph. But this nymph continues to feed
and enlarge ; proboscis, legs, and palpi grow thinner and
harder; claws, ciliae, and hairs are developed; and, finally,
through a fissure in the skin emerges the perfect animal, red as
wine, with eight feet, and about two millimetres in length.
* " Annales des Sciences Naturelles," i. 18.

354 LIFE IN AN OLD CHEESE.

This animal, placed in the family of the Hydrachnella. has
been described by De Geer under the name of Acarus
aquaticus globosus, and by Duges under that of Hydrachna
globosa> on account of its globular form.

THE CHEESE-MITE.

From the crust of a dry old cheese, — such a kind of cheese
as a bon-vivant likes with a glass of " good old ale," — a very
fine powder often crumbles off, like the dust made by wood-
eating worms.

Examine this powder with your lens, or if you have good
eyes, you may make use of them. You will quickly detect
something moving in it, and by degrees you will see that this
movement pervades the whole mass ; that there is a general
stir and commotion in all directions.

But you find it impossible to distinguish clearly the form of
the animals which are thus agitated. You are certain, how-
ever, that they are not maggots, for they affect moist cheeses ;
besides, they are visible enough to everybody, and at need can
make themselves felt upon your hands, and even upon your
face, for they have a faculty of launching themselves to a dis-
tance by a little manoeuvre familiar enough to serpents : bring-
ing the head round towards the tail, they curve themselves like
the spring of a watch, then abruptly uncoiling themselves
with the help of some solid appui, they fling forth into the air,
and are thus launched to very considerable distances. It is a
curious species of locomotion, not unworthy the attention of
the mechanician.

ITS FRIGHTFUL ASPECT. 355

To clear up the mystery of a movement whose cause is
not apparent at the first glance, let us sprinkle with this
impalpable debris, — with this kind of sawdust, or cheese-
dust, — a little strip of glass, and place it beneath the focus of
a microscope.

Ah ! you exclaim, what a frightful creature ! These long
sharp cilias seem to be so many lancets covering the whole
body, and especially the legs ; its head, like that of the
harvest-bug, protrudes and recedes under a transparent cara-
pace ; thus communicating to the
animal something of the aspect of
a turtle. In all other respects its
form exactly resembles the harvest-
bug; only its body is more elongated
towards the anterior extremity than
that of the latter. While the harvest-
bug makes us think of a spider, the
body of the Acarus has a greater
likeness to an insect's. (Fig. 77.)
Yet the Acarus has eight legs, like a spider, and the harvest-
bug six, like an insect. Attempt, then, to establish your
absolute rules !

Let us continue our observation of this cheese-worm. The
well-defined thorax forms nearly one-third of the fore-part of
the body, which is of a shining whitish-red or reddish-white.
The proboscis, shaped like a conical tube, is armed with two
projecting mandibles, which, like true pincers,, can be brought
close together, or moved wide apart, thrust forward singly or

356 ANOTHER STATISTICAL QUERY.

simultaneously. Our animal, which a small lens makes very
distinct, has been more than once confounded with the Sarcoptes
scabieL

Let us resume. Our cheese-dust, which to all appearance
walks alone, encloses legions of mites ; the old you may detect
by their eight feet, the young by having six. The germs, or
eggs, whence they spring, are found mixed among the excre-
ments of the living, and the ddbris of the dead.

It is in this way that a crust of cheese offers us a true, a
vivid image of the terrestrial crust. So may we learn to com-
pare small things with great.

How MANY ANIMAL SPECIES ARE THERE DISTRIBUTED OVER
THE SURFACE OF THE GLOBE?

In the present condition of scientific knowledge, no satis-
factory answer can be given to this important and most
interesting question.

The truth is, that what we may call Geographical Zoology
is as yet in its very infancy. The few works which have been
published on the subject have been published within the last
eighty or ninety years ; and they embrace only the vertebrate
animals, notably the mammals, birds, and reptiles, or amphibia.
We shall attempt to place before the reader an outline of the
results that have so far been obtained.

Of all the Vertebrata, we are best acquainted with the
mammals. And yet our zoologists differ very widely in
respect to the number of their species, though the calcula-

DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMAL LIFE. 357

tions have been made at very short intervals. For instance,
in 1829, Minding computed that the globe contained 1230
species of mammals. In 1832, Charles Bonaparte reduced
the total to 1149. Oken estimates it at 1500; and this last
figure would seem to be the most probable.

Nothing is more curious than the distribution of these 1500
species of mammals, according to the different regions and
climates of the globe.

Man, according to the best-considered data of science,
forms a single family, a single genus, a single species. He
alone possesses the power of adapting himself to every climate,
and of taking possession of countries the most widely opposite
in character. We find him among the snows of the North
Pole ; we find him under the blazing sun of the Tropics. We
find him in the palm-fringed islands of Southern Seas, and in
the barren burning waste of the inhospitable Sahara. Con-
sidered as an animal who feeds and reproduces himself, he
forms alone the order of Bimana ; so named in opposition to
the Quadrumana, or apes, who make use of their fore-feet as
we do of our two hands. Deprive man of his progressive and
transmissible intellect — of those mysterious powers which we
call the mind and the soul — and he would become at once
the most useless and the most wretched member of the animal
world.

The warm regions of the old and new continents are the
true home and haunt of the apes. They are not sufficiently
developed to be able to frequent the temperate or frigid zone.
In our European menageries the specimens nearly all die of

358 DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMAL LIFE.

consumption. The Quadrumana form about one-fourteenth of
the whole number of species of Mammalia.

The Carnivora, characterised by the development of their
canine teeth, are spread over the whole globe. They are
found in greater numbers in the torrid, however, than in the
frigid zone. Their species compose at least one-third of
the Mammalia.

The Rodentid) characterised by the development of the
incisors, are wanting in Polynesia, and are rare in Australia.
They are found in their maximum number in the torrid zone.
Like the Carnivora, they form about one-third of the Mam-
malia.

The Ruminantia, remarkable for the development of their
digestive apparatus, are distributed into 165 species, repre-
senting something less than one-ninth of the Mammalia.
Africa, of all the continents, is richest in the Ruminants.

*

The MarsttpiaUa, so strangely distinguished by the mem-
branous pouch in which they enclose their young, belong to
America, and especially Australia. At present about 123
species are known, or a little more than one-thirteenth of the
Mammalia.

The Edentata, so named on account of their incomplete
dentition, inhabit the tropical regions of the Old and New

DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMAL LIFE. 359

World. They are distributed into 32 species, 19 of which
belong to America. The Edentata, therefore, do not form
more than one- fiftieth of the Mammalia.

The Pachydermata, which owe their name to the thickness
of their skin or hide, almost exclusively belong to the Old
World. None are found in Australia. The number of their
species is 38, of which 5 only belong to Southern and Central
America. The Pachyderms form, therefore, nearly one-thirty-
seventh of the Mammalia.

The Cetacece, — which the naturalists of antiquity ranked
among the fishes, though the females bear their young alive,
and are furnished with a mammary apparatus, — chiefly frequent
the Northern waters, but some of their species are found in
the South Pacific. They represent, it may be assumed, about
a one-hundredth part of the Mammalia.

The JBirds, by their feather-clad bodies, and by the trans-
formation of their two fore-limbs into wings, form the best-
characterised class in the whole animal kingdom. But natur-
alists can no more agree as to the number of their species
than as to the number of species composing the Mammalia.
Some, taking as a foundation the rich ornithological collection
in the Berlin Museum, allow for 6000 species being distributed
over the surface of the globe ; others, like Lessen, increase the
total to 6266 ; while Dr Gray, no mean authority, raises it to
at least 8000.

360 DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMAL LIFE.

The majority of the Raptor es, or birds of prey (vulture,
falcon, eagle), as well as nearly all the W aders (stork, crane,
heron), and Palmipedes (duck, goose, water-hen), are cosmo-
politan birds. The other orders, such as the Scansores (parrot,
parroquet, magpie), the Passeres (comprising nearly all the
singing birds), and the GaUinacea (pheasant, pintado), prefer,
as a general rule, the warm temperate regions. They are not
found in the extreme north, nor in the equatorial climes, ex-
cept in limited numbers.

SUMMARY OF THE MAMMALIA.

Assumed total, 1600 species.

Bimana form i species.

Quadrumana „ 105 (?) ,,

Carnivora „ 510 (?) ,,

Rodentia „ 508 (?) „

Ruminantia „ 165 ,,

Marsupialia form 123 species.

Edentata „ 152

Pachydermata „ 38 ,,

CetaceK „ i8(?) „

1600

[Of course, the foregoing is but an approximative esti-
mate, but it will provide the reader with a tolerably accurate
notion of the proportion borne by the different classes of
Mammalia.]

About 5000 species of birds have been classified. By
Cuvier's system they are divided into six orders : —

1. Raptores, or birds of prey.

2. Passerine birds, now generally called Insessores, or Perching-birds

3. Scansores, or Climbing, frequently called Zygodactyli, or Zygo-

dactylous birds.

4. GallinacecE, now more frequently known as Rasores.

THE REPTILES AND AMPHIBIA. 361

5. Grallatores, Waders, or Stilt birds.

6. Palmipedes, or Web-footed birds, now more generally recognised

as Natatores, or Swimmers.

It has been proposed to separate the Brevipennes, or
short-winged birds, from the Grallatores, and erect them into a
separate order.

The Reptiles, of which the majority possess the faculty of
living upon land and in water, — whence their name of
Amphibia, — never pass beyond the limits of warm and
temperate climates : their blood, which has the same tem-
perature as the medium wherein they live — whence their
name of "cold-blooded animals" — does not circulate where
the mean annual temperature descends below freezing-point.
Yet frogs and salamanders have been met with in Greenland,
and on the banks of the Mackenzie River, in North America,
under 67° latitude.

Linnaeus was not acquainted with more than 215 species
of Amphibia, divided into four orders : — the Chelonians, or
tortoises; the Saurians (as the lizard and crocodile); the
Ophidians (serpents); and the Batrachians (frogs). In 1789,
Lacepede raised the total to 303 ; in 1820, Merrem estimated
it at 677. At present, the number of species of Reptilia
classified and described amounts to 2000, and the four
orders into which they are distributed are —

1. Ophidia, or Serpents. 3. Loricata, or Crocodiles.

2. Sauria, or Lizards. 4. Chelonia, or Tortoises.

362 ABOUT THE FISHES.

According to Sching, there are 7 tortoises, 33 serpents, and
35 lizards.

Fishes are the least known of those superior animals whose
skeleton and vertebral column are situated in the interior of
the body, and which are thence named Vertebrata. The richest
collections, such as those of the British Museum, and those
of the Museum of Natural History in -Paris, which contain
about 3000 species, do not represent probably more than a
fourth of the existing total, including fresh-water and salt-
water fish. How many rivers and streams in both hemi-
spheres still remain to be explored ! How far we are from a
knowledge of the fishes which people the different strata of the
great ocean.

Agassiz divides this great class of vertebrated animals into
the four orders of Cycloid, Ctenoid, Placoid, and Ganoid, accord-
ing to the character of their scales. Cuvier, into Osseous
fishes (with true bones), and Cartilaginous ; subdividing the
former into Acanthopterygii and Malacopterygii.

The difficulty of the problem we are here considering in-
creases when we come to the inferior animals. Who would
pretend to determine the number of species of Mollusca which
inhabit the earth, the fresh waters and the salt ? This much is
certain, that it cannot be less than that of the Vertebrates.

In the vast aggregate of the Articulata, the inquirer finds
himself utterly astray and bewildered. This great division

ABOUT THE INSECTS. 363

is not divided into those which have, and those which have
not, articulated members.

The first subdivision includes Insects, Arachnida, Crustacea,
and Myriapoda • the second, Annelida and Entozoa.

Some naturalists, be it said, rank the Cirrhopoda as inter-
mediate between the two; others place them among the
Mollusca. Others, again, include the Rotifera in the second
sub-division.

We shall in this place confine our remarks to the Insects.
According to the most distinguished entomologists, the average
number of species at present, described or not described, and
preserved in entomological collections, is between 150,000 and
170,000.

This estimate is obviously below the truth. Take only the
Coleoptera, which forms but one, though, it is true, the most
numerous order of insects. Thirty years ago the most com-
plete collections contained about 7000 species. In 1850, the
museum at Berlin, according to Alexander von Humboldt,
contained nearly 32,000. We would here call the reader's
attention to the just remarks of the author of the " Natural
History of the Coleoptera," an entomologist of great authority,
whom a long residence in America had peculiarly qualified to
pronounce an opinion on the subject before us : —

" If we remember," says the Count de Castelnau, " that
tnere are immense regions in Asia and the two Americas of
which we do not possess a single coleoptera ; if we reflect that
the interior of the vast continent of New Holland is, from this
standpoint, entirely unknown, and that most of the archi-

364 A MARVELLOUS TOTAL.

pelagoes of the great ocean have never been entomologically
explored, we may conclude, without any fear of mistake, that
the number of existing coleopteras exceeds one hundred thou-
sand. However frightful this number may appear, it will
seem less so if we examine only the species discovered in the
neighbourhood of Paris, within a radius of twelve to fifteen
leagues j and we do not hesitate to say, that in a few years the
Parisian fauna alone will present material for a considerable
work, which shall not treat of less than 3000 to 4000 species
of Coleoptera." *

If we admit that the other orders of insects, the Lepidoptera,
the Hemiptera, the Hymenoptera, the Neuroptera, the Orthop_
tera, the Diptera, the Strepsiptera, comprise, taken altogether,
at least the same number of species as the Coleoptera alone, we
shall gain, for the class of insects, a total of 200,000. And
we shall certainly keep within the truth if we assign the same
number of species to the Annelida, the Crustacea, the Arach-
nida, the Myriapoda, and the Monomorpha, to which, with
some modification, we may apply the remarks already called
forth by the Coleoptera.

Let us recapitulate. The four classes of Vertebrate Animals
include approximatively : —

i, 600 species . . Mammals.

5,000 ,, . . Birds.

2,000 „ . . Reptiles.

12,000 ,, . . Fishes. •

20,600
* Count de Castelnau, "Histoire Naturelle des Coleopteres," i. 7.

INFINITE DIVERSITY OF CREATION. 365

If we add to these 20,600 species of Vertebrate Animals,
200,000 species of Articulata, and 22,000 Mollusca (a mini-
mum), we shall have a total of 242,600.

But to complete the grand whole of beings " who grow, and
live, and feel" (the definition of animals laid down by Lin-
naeus), we must add the Intestinal Worms, the Echinodermata,
the Acalephse (or Sea-nettles), and the Polypes. The history of
these singular creatures, which apparently form the transition
between the animal and vegetable kingdom, and have thence
been designated Zoophytes, leaves much, very much, to be
desired before it will be possible to indicate, even approxi-
matively, the number of their species.

And, finally, what shall we say of the Infusoria ? These
microscopic forms of life seem, by their extreme multiplicity,
to animate all nature. It is in studying these that the inquirer
needs to be constantly on his guard, that he may not mistake
transitory conditions — or larvae — for actual species, and it
behoves him to understand thoroughly the difficult delimita-
tion of specific characters. It would be far easier to ascertain
the exact number of human beings who at present people the
terrestrial surface, than to fix the total of the species of In-
fusoria now in existence ; assuredly it exceeds 250,000. What
an infinite variety of design is here ! What a picture it pre-
sents of the inexhaustibility of the Creative Mind !

Add, then, — let us say, in conclusion, — to this last great
total the aggregate of the Vertebrates, the Articulates, and

366 AN AUTUMNAL THOUGHT.

the Molluscs, and for our grand whole we have a minimum
of half a million of ANIMAL SPECIES ! This is the very figure,
observe, at which we arrived as representing the lowest limit
of the totality of VEGETABLE SPECIES, living and moving,
flourishing, and dying, and reproducing, on the surface of the
globe.

We leave the reader to meditate — as meditate he surely
must — on the sublime thoughts, the overpowering ideas of
Power and Wisdom which these considerations suggest.

WHAT is CHLOROPHYLL?

We are drawing towards the close of autumn ; we shall
soon be in sight of the " melancholy days of the year ; " when,
for a while, the " voice of the turtle " will cease in the leafless
groves, and the banks and braes will be sadly bare of their
floral garniture. As yet, however, the trees retain their glorious
vesture, though streaked and varied with the gorgeous colours
of decay; and in the sheltered corners of the woods, on the
sunny southern slope of the grassy hill, and beneath the covert
of the still fragrant hedgerow, many a blossom appeals to our
souls with its promptings of sweet images and tender fancies.
The arum still raises its clusters of deep-scarlet berries, and
spreads its spotted leaf —

" Armed with keen tortures for the unwary tongue ; "

the blue-bells hang their delicate cups among the thick herb-
age ; and the wild marigold contrasts its yellow splendour
with all this crimson and azure magnificence. The daisy,

SWEET THINGS STILL LEFT.

367

too, has not forsaken us — sweet shield of silver, embossed

FIG 78. — "As yet, the trees retain their glorious vesture.

with gold !— but brightens still the pleasant meadow and the
sloping bank.

368 WHAT IS CHLOROPHYLL?

" The rose has but a summer reign,
The daisy never dies ; "

and though it first makes its appearance in the merry spring-
time, and is truly a child of the early year, it lingers on to
become a precious ornament of our scanty autumn wreaths.
Sweet flower of song ! — dearer to the poet than even lily or
violet! — who does not remember, and remembering feel, all
the pathos of the dying exclamation of poor Keats, — " I
feel the daisies already growing over me ! " They heighten
the commonest and cheer the saddest corners of the earth,
and are ever ready, in their simple loveliness, to awaken
thoughts of grateful tenderness and love —

" So glad am I when in the daisy's presence,
That I am fain to do it reverence. "

To what do the leaves, now changing their hues so rapidly,
and varying through all the tints of purple, brown, and yellow,
— to what do they owe their normal colour, the fresh, vivid,
beautiful green ?

To a substance called chlorophyll — (X^UMS, green, and
puXXoi/, a leaf).

Well, what is chlorophyll ?

The colouring matter of plants, which, accompanied by
grains of starch, floats like very minute seeds in the fluid of
their cells. In some respects it is analogous to wax ; it will not
dissolve in water, but is easily affected by ether or alcohol.

Chlorophyll is dependent upon the action of light, if not
for its formation, at all events for its development. Keep a
plant in a dark room or cellar, and it will become blanched

SOME RECENT EXPERIMENTS. 369

and sickly ; the colouring matter dries up, and the white, wan
tissue of the leaf is all that survives. The more a plant is ex-
posed to the light, the deeper will be its green. In a shrubbery
you may notice that the brown leaves of any particular ever-
green or bush, if so situated as to lose the direct action of the
sun's rays, will soon change colour. Instead of their natural
brightness of tint, they assume a sickly greenish-yellow hue,
and are said to be suffering from chlorosis. The formation of
the chlorophyll is obstructed, or takes place too slowly. Of
course, this peculiar condition will frequently arise from bad
soil, or a long continuance of damp weather ; but it is also the
result of a want of light.

It should be observed that young leaves are always of a lighter
green than old j simply because the latter have been exposed
for a longer time to the light. And so the leaf goes on deepening
and deepening in colour, until the sad days of autumn come, and
the green gives way to yellow and brown and red, owing to the
influence of the changing season on the chlorophyll of the plant.

In reference to this interesting subject, — which deserves to
be more closely investigated, — we may place before the reader
the results of certain recent experiments.*

MM. Prillieux, Brongniart, and Roze (Comptes Rendus, Jan.
3 and 17) have made some important observations on the
apparently spontaneous movements of the grains of chlorophyll
within the leaves of plants. These had been observed by
Bohm to congregate under the direct action of the sun;

* As recorded, in a condensed form, in The Academy (Feb. 12, 1870),
pp. 131, 132.

2 A

370 A PLASMIC ILL USION DETECTED.

Famitzin, confirmed by Borodirie, had also recorded very
marked movements in the leaves of a moss under the influ-
ence of light. This class of plants offer great facilities for
these observations, inasmuch as the movements can be ob-
served in them under the microscope without dissection.
M. Prillieux kept a moss in the dark for several days, when
the cells presented the appearance of a green network, be-
tween the meshes of which was a clear transparent ground.
All the grains of chlorophyll were applied to the walls which
separate the cells from one another ; there were none on the
upper or under walls which form the surfaces of the leaf.
Under the influence of light the grains change their position
from the lateral to the superficial walls ; under favourable, cir-
cumstances this change takes place in about a quarter of an
hour. On attaining their new position, the grains do not re-
main absolutely immovable, but continually approach and
separate from one another. If again darkened, they leave
their new position and return to the lateral walls. Artificial
light produces the same effect as daylight. M. Brongniart
further observed that this movement of the chlorophyll, under
the influence of light, does not consist in the change of posi-
tion of isolated grains, but of masses of net-work, each con-
taining a certain number of grains. In addition, M. E. Roze
states that, besides the grains of chlorophyll which coat the
walls of the cell, each cell is lined with a transparent mucous
plasma formed of very fine threads, the extremities of which
unite together the grains of chlorophyll. This protoplasm ex-
hibits, under a high magnifying power, a very slow motion,

THE OLD FAMILIAR FLOWERS. 371

and carries the grains of chlorophyll along with it. M. Roze
believes, therefore, that the motion is a plasmic one, the proto-
plasm being the vital and animating part of the cell.

CARNATIONS AND PINKS.

Among the latest flowers of the autumnal garden are those
old favourites, the " July-flowers," or Carnations, which, because
they were " fair and sweet and medicinal," Jeremy Taylor pre-
ferred to " the prettiest tulips, that are good for nothing." I
remember a time when they were among the best-prized orna-
ments of our parterres, and very delicious it was to inhale the
balmy breath that rose into the warm air of an autumn evening
from rich masses of carnations and pinks. The carnations
were also called — stib consume Planco — in the merry days when
I haunted the green lanes of a pretty Devonshire village,
carnations, and clove July-flowers or gilliflowers; and an
ancient name for the pink was that of sops-in-wine, because
they were infused in the wine-cups of our much-drinking
ancestors. So Drayton says : —

" Bring hither the pink and purple columbine,

With gilliflowers ;

Bring coronations, and sops-in-wine,
Worn of paramours."

The same poet alludes to them under their more modern
appellations : —

" The brave carnation, then, of sweet and sovereign power
(So of his colour called, although a July flower),
With the other of his kind, the speckled and the pale ; —
Then the odoriferous pink, that sends forth such a gale
Of sweetness, yet in scents as various as in sorts."

372

THE BE A UTY OF THE GARDEN.

The scientific name of this beautiful family of plants, whose
rich dyes are not less conspicuous than their Sabaean odours,
is Dianthus, or " Flower of God." They form a genus of the

FIG. 79 — " When I "haunted the gr^en lanes of a Devonshire village. "

natural order Carophyllaceae ; the calyx is tubular, and five-
toothed j there are five petals, which at the throat of the

ITS NUMEROUS VARIETIES. 373

corolla are lightened (as it were) into a linear " claw." The
stamens are double the number of the petals j the capsule is
of a cylindrical outline, and one-celled.

I am quite prepared to agree with a sympathetic writer on
flowers that, during summer, and far into the autumn months,
the greatest beauty of our gardens is the varied tribe of Carna-
tions, while their exquisite, subtle, yet potent aroma is not to
be excelled, I think, or, at all events, is not far surpassed, in
strength and sweetness, by the much-lauded rose. A carnation
seems, to my humble taste, the very embodiment, as it were,
of the favourite qualities so insisted upon by Mr Matthew
Arnold, " sweetness and light." And even in winter, when its
radiant petals have disappeared, there is something graceful to
the eye in the long slender leaves of the pink, covered with
their sea-green powdery bloom.

The two species commonly grown in gardens are, the garden
pink (Dianthus hortensis) and the carnation proper (Dianthus
caryophyllus) ; ioth of which are generally referred to one
original, the castle-pink, July-flower, or clove-gilliflower. The
carnation, as a garden flower, was originally brought into
England from Germany, where it has always been a favourite
object of cultivation.

There are several hundred varieties of it, which are arranged
into three principal divisions : flakes, which are diversified by
broad stripes of two colours only ; Uzarres, which are of seve-
ral colours, and very irregularly streaked ; and picotees (from
piquette, spotted), whose flowers are besprinkled with different
colours, and their petals fringed or serrated.

374 A MOUNTAIN CHILD.

In England, the native species of pink are five in number,
but they are mostly rare, or, when abundant, are found in very
limited habitats.

The commonest kind is the little Depiford Pink (Dianthus
Armeria), which sometimes grows in thick clusters among the
meadow grass. In shape, its blossom resembles that of the
garden pink ; in size, it is about equal to that of the sweet
william ; and its flowers grow in a very similar manner. It is
a scentless pink, however, with serrated or notched petals,
and its rose-coloured petals curiously besprinkled with tiny
spots of white.

A very pretty species is the Maiden Pink (Dianthus
deltoides), which some botanists think to have been the
original of our garden favourite ; and a kind deserving notice
for its large and fragrant flowers is the Dianthus super bus.

The maiden pink, I should add, has delicate rose-coloured
blossoms, daintily touched with silver, and a white eye en-
circled by a deep purple ring. It is not unworthy of its fanci-
ful and highly suggestive name.

A rare British variety is the Clustered Pink, or Childing Pink
(Dianthus prolifer), which produces its flowers in plentiful
clusters, but is only allowed a season's sunshine.

The India or China Pink (Dianthus chinensis) is a native of
Eastern Asia, but has now become a frequent denizen in our
English gardens.

One wild species, the Mountain Pink (Dianthus cossius*), it
has never been my fortune to gather in its native home. It is
described as a large handsome flower, and it loves to breathe

HABITATS OF THE CASTLE PINK. 375

the " difficult air " of the lofty mountain-top. " Never," we
are told, " is it found in plain or valley ; but it is one of those
blossoms whose beauty gladdens the mountaineer, or bids the
traveller wonder that so lovely a flower should be blushing on
the lone summit, scarcely accessible to his footstep ; or cheer-
ing a rock, where only the yellow lichen, or the verdant or
gray moss, reminds him of vegetation. Such a sight might bid
one think of the old motto, which accompanied a wild flower,
* I trust only in Heaven.' How beautiful is it in its loneliness !
Scarce an eye meets it but that of the towering bird, as he
dashes through the air above it, yet is it as full of lustre as the
flowers we daily see and admire. Surely it should arrest the
eye and the thoughts of the traveller as certainly as would a
monument of human skill on such a spot. Like a lone ruin,
it is a page of story, telling not only of the past, but the pre-
sent, and reminding us of a Being who has reared it there,
where it stands a memento of power and goodness."

" Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

— WORDSWORTH.

Of greater interest, however, because a native species, and
more easily attained, is the Castle Pink, to which brief refer-
ence has already been made. Its perfume is like that of
precious spices, and after a shower of rain, the air, for some
distance, is actually interpenetrated with it. As its name
indicates, it loves to grow upon the shattered walls of
' ' Chiefless castles breathing stern farewells ; "

376

OUR "SWEET WILLIAM:

and it may be found, unless swept away by barbarous " im-
provements," adorning the gray old masonry of Sandown
Castle, and on ruins in the neighbourhood of Norwich. On

FIG. 80. — " On the time-worn ruins of an ancient minster."

the walls of Rochester's stately keep it grows at a height
which defies the spoiler's hand; and on the time-worn ruins of
an ancient minster, it shines, in the summer-noon, " with a

WHY IS IT « BARBATUS1" 377

flush of flowers." It blossoms in July, and there are not, it is
said, more than half-a-dozen spots in England where it may
be found wild.

To this dainty and beautiful tribe belongs that common
but handsome and most fragrant flower, the Bearded Pink or
Sweet William (Dianthus barbatus)> — a native of central
Europe and southern France, with long lanceolate leaves,
bearded petals, ornamental bracts, and dense clusters or tufts
of crimson or rose-coloured blossoms. It has long been a
favourite with the cottager, for it is so hardy that it will grow
in any soil, and will flourish even in the odd corner known as
the " children's garden." Its popular name, " long, long ago,"
was " London tuftes ; " and it owes its specific appellation of
barbatus, or "bearded," to the nature of its calyx. That
quaintest of quaint old botanists, delightful Gerarde, lavishes
encomiums upon its beauty, and pronounces it meet " to deck
up the bosoms of the beautiful, and garlands and crowns for
pleasure." I suspect that now-a-days it seldom figures in a
posy.

To the same order as the Dianthi — that is, to the Caryo-
phyllacece. — belong many wild flowers of lowly growth but
abounding interest ; as, for example, the corn-cockle, whose
lilac-coloured petals, soaring conspicuously among the tall
waving corn, have procured for it the right royal appellation
of Agrostemma, or " the crown of the field." So, too, the
numerous species of campion and catchfly (Silene), with their

378 A USEFUL PLANT.

singular expanded calices; and those handsome flowers, the
white and rosy lychnises, which love to air their charms by
the side of running waters. The cottony down upon these
plants was wont to be much used for the wicks of lamps.

Then, too, the whole tribe of chickweeds are included in
the Caryophyllaceae. They are spring flowers, with pearly
white blossoms, five-petalled, like a five-rayed star, and long
slender drooping leaves. Their resemblance to a star has
suggested their scientific name, Stellaria ; and they are truly
the " stars of the earth," glistering among the thick herbage
with a modest beauty. The Stellaria media supplies our
song-birds with an abundant and a wholesome provision.

A handsome wild plant of this order is the Soapwort
(Saponaria offitinalis). It is common in Kent, and some
of the neighbouring shires, but in many parts of England
is never seen. Its full cluster of rose-hued blossoms is rather
larger, and more loosely set together, than those of the sweet
williarn ; which, however, it much resembles in its leaves,
these being opposite to each other, and nearly sheathing or
surrounding the stalk at their bases.

" The juice of the soapwort," says Miss Pratt, " is one of
those vegetable substances which, by making a lather with
water, will cleanse linen, and remove grease as effectually as
soap. It grows more generally in the neighbourhood of
villages than in any other situation, as if providence had
placed it there especially for the service of the cottager;
yet it is very little used, either from ignorance of its proper-

THE POETS' FLOWERS. 379

ties, or because it would require some cultivation to render
it sufficiently plentiful for household purposes. It needs the
addition of ashes to make it a good soap for washing linen ;
but it is of much service to the shepherds on the Alps, who
wash their flocks, previously to shearing them, with soapsuds
made by boiling this plant in water. The large fruit of the
horse-chestnut has similar cleansing properties, and may be
used by cutting it into small pieces, or scraping it into water.
It has even been suggested that if the nuts were reduced to
powder, and made into balls, with some unctuous substance,
they would answer all the purposes of our manufactured
soap ; and yet numbers of poor people see these nuts lying
decaying in their neighbourhood, and have no idea of making
them of any service."

On the Continent, however, the peasantry are wiser, and
not only provide themselves with chestnuts for soap, but
gather the beech-leaves to stuff their mattresses.

Returning to the Caryophyllacese, we may add that some
of the plants of this order have poisonous qualities, which
are due to the principle called saponine existing in many
of the species of Saponaria, Silene, Lychnis, and Dianthus.

According to Lindley, the order includes no less than 53
genera, and 1055 species. They inhabit chiefly temperate
and cold regions, and are ranked in three sub-orders, —
Alsineae, Silenese, and Mollugineae.

THE EGLANTINE AND THE CONVOLVULUS.
What plant do our poets mean by the eglantine ? What by

380 CULLED FROM THE BARDS.

the woodbine? Are they one and the same, or are they
different ?

We cannot answer those questions until we have referred
to three or four passages in which they are introduced. And,
first, let us take an example from Spenser : —

" And over him, art striving to compare
With nature, did an arbour green dispread,
Framed of wanton ivy, flowering fair,
Through which the fragrant eglantine did spread
His pricking arms, entrailed with roses red,
Which dainty odours round about them threw,
And all within with flowers was garnished,
That when wild Zephyrus amongst them blew,
Did breathe out bounteous smells, and painted colours shew."

And now from Milton : —

" Through the sweetbriar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine."

The following is from Sir Walter Scott : —

" On the hill

Let the white heath-bell flourish still,
Cherish the tulip, prune the vine,
But freely let the woodbine twine,
And leave untrimmed the eglantine."

From Burns : —

" The woodbine I will pu' when the evening star is near,
And the diamond draps of dew shall be her een sae clear."

From Michael Drayton : —

" The azured harebell next with them they neatly mixt :
T' allay whose luscious smell they woodbine placed betwixt . . .
The columbine amongst they sparingly do set,
And now and then among, of eglantine a spray."

IN PRAISE OF CLIMBING PLANTS. 381

And lastly, from Shakespeare : —

" And leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweetened not thy breath."

There is evidently some confusion here, and the eglantine of
one poet is not the eglantine of another. Sir Walter Scott, we
take it, is thinking of the wild clematis or virgin's bower, when
he wishes the eglantine to remain untrimmed. And Milton
undoubtedly refers to the honeysuckle, which, twisting round
the framework of a cottage-porch, tempts the neighbouring bees
to rifle its calyxes of their honeyed sweets. But the true eglan-
tine of our earlier poets seems to have been the prickly sweet-
briar, formerly called Rosa eglantina; now known as Rosa
rubiginosa. No plant is of greater value for a garden hedge,
owing to the delicious fragrance exhaled not only by its flowers
but by its leaves.

On the other hand, the "lush woodbine," which so often
finds honourable mention in our poets, is none other than the
honeysuckle, the " twisted eglantine " of Milton. Its botani-
cal name is Caprifolium.

The eglantine and the woodbine, therefore, though occa-
sionally confounded by careless writers, are two entirely distinct
plants ; the former being the sweet-briar of modern gardens,
and the latter the honeysuckle.

It has been justly said by a writer (whom we have already
quoted), that of all the flowers which, towards the end of
summer and the beginning of autumn, adorn our pastoral
scenery, "filling the air with fragrance, and the earth with

A CURIOUS CIRCUMSTANCE.

beauty," none are more generally attractive than the wild
climbing plants of our leafy hedgerows. By interlacing their
delicate boughs, covered with foliage and flowers, — or with
berries bright and sparkling, — or, as in the wild clematis,
crowned with the lightest, feathery seeds, — they wind about
the trees and bushes in festoons and wreaths of the utmost

FIG. bi. — ''Our leafy hedgerows."

elegance, — and contribute in no slight degree to the aspect of
richness and beauty which the landscape exhibits at this time
of the year. As their stems are so slender and delicate that
they would be crushed by the burthen of their flowery clusters
and numerous leaves, or rent and uprooted by the wind,

ABOUT THE CON VOL VUL US. 383

unless they found support from other plants, we see them
hanging by their tendrils, or by their pliant arms, about the
trunks of aged trees, — the ancestral elms, or "those green-robed
senators of mighty woods, tall oaks," — like a frail maiden to
the sturdy arm of some strong-shouldered brother, or, it may
be, of some one " nearer and dearer still."

In reference to those climbing plants, one curious circum-
stance deserves to be noted.

Some of them follow the sun's apparent course, that is, from
east to west, — and always twine around the stem which sup-
ports them in the direction of left to right. Such is the case
with the common black briony, so common in our woods and
groves.

Others invariably twine contrary to the sun, or from right to
left ; as is the case with the convolvulus, or large white bind-
weed.

This singular tendency, be it observed, is always constant in
each individual of the species, and if you endeavour to train
one of these plants in a different direction, you will infallibly
kill it.

The convolvulus will not grow from left to right, and the
black briony will not grow from right to left. Crede experto.

The convolvulus, or white bindweed (Convolvulus septum,
or Calyslegia sepium), is one of the most elegant, though one of
the commonest climbing plants which festoon our willows, or
creep over our grassy banks, or wind in and about our hedges.
Its large white bells, which the country people unpoetically
call " old men's nightcaps," are remarkable for their purity of

384 A PHILOSOPHICAL MEDITATION.

hue and exquisite beauty of outline ; and the leaves, which are
heart-shaped, equally claim our admiration. Like the pink field-
convolvulus (Convolvulus arvensis), or the rosy-hued seaside
bindweed (Calystegia soldanelld), it is very tenacious of life, and
if it once secures a footing, is eradicated with difficulty. Hence
it is dearer to the poet and artist than to the farmer and gar-
dener, each of whom pursues it with a determined hostility.

The Convolvulacese form a distinct family or order, con-
taining forty-five genera, and upwards of seven hundred species.
They are found in temperate and tropical countries ; and in-
clude the dodder, sweet potato, scammony, spomcea, and the
jalap plant.

METAMORPHOSIS. — A PHYSICO-PHILOSOPHICAL MEDITATION.*
If we are to understand by the term metamorphosis simply
" a change," it is evident that everybody undergoes metamor-
phosis, is changed or transformed ; nothing is, all becomes.

The water which flows on for ever, but never twice washes
the same pebbly bed, will afford us an apt image of this
perpetual " to become."

But even the said pebbly bed, like the hardest rock, like the
seemingly everlasting granite, must and does change. The
compact, chrystalline, azoic rock, without a trace of life in its
dense mass, would eventually decompose if constantly assailed
and affected by the moving waves of that gaseous ocean whose
bed is formed by the terrestrial crust. If the rock is found
covered by more or less stratified layers, its presence in the
* This section is translated from M. Hoefer, without addition or alteration

WHAT WILL BE, WILL BE. 385

bosom of the earth will attest to passing generations the
primordial incandescence of our planet at some epoch when
life as yet was not, — when the liquid element, hurled far away
into space under the form of vapour, exhibited the aspect of
a "bearded meteor," or a comet, with blazing nucleus and
incandescent tail. Many the changes which since that
distant epoch have taken place upon the earth, and many
more must occur before our planet ceases to contribute its
strain to the grand harmony of the spheres. Our world will
end as surely as it once had a beginning : its duration, though
it be computed by hundreds of thousands of years, is
nothing, will be nothing, compared with that of the revolution
of yonder sun, circling, with its wondrous train of planets,
around some mysterious centre as yet unknown. And in this
period, hitherto incalculable, what chances of perturbation
will necessarily arise ?

Let us suppose that the centre around which oscillates, on
the one part, the moon while drawing near and receding from
the earth; on the other, the earth while drawing near and
receding from the sun : let us suppose that these centres
oscillate in the same manner around other centres as yet un-
determined,— and this hypothesis is very rational, since it is
based on the principle that everything moves or changes, — it
may happen that in these periodical oscillations, one or more
of the circulating masses will eventually fall into their focus of
attraction, or will start so widely astray that the wheelwork of
our world, the various parts of our planetary system, will
separate,— not to be annihilated, for nothing in the universe

2 B

386 SOME MATHEMATICAL CALCULATIONS.

can be annihilated, — but to be metamorphosed, and group
themselves elsewhere in a different order.*

* From these slow movements, which have been designated the " secular
inequalities," we might with some probability infer the end of the world,
which even Newton regarded as certain, — at least, unless "the Great
Architect at times retouched His work." The inequalities or secular
variations affect the elements of the orbits, such as the inclination of the
plane of the orbit, — the semi-major axis of the ellipse, or the mean dis-
tance of the planet from the sun, — the eccentricity of the ellipse, or the
relation between the distance which separates the forces from the centre
and the semi-major axis assumed to be unity, — and the movements of the
perihelions and the nodes. These elements change with extreme slowness.
Thus, the inclination of Jupiter diminishes by 8" in a century ; and that of
Saturn increases by 9" ; but the very ecliptic varies, — it diminishes 33" in
a century.

The variations of the eccentricities are scarcely computable by centuries ;
their effect is, that the ellipses insensibly approach or recede from a cir-
cular form.

It is demonstrated by mathematical analysis that these variations are
periodical, and confined within narrow limits, in such wise that "the
planetary system can oscillate only round a certain mean, from which it
never departs except by a very small quantity." But may not this very
mean, which we have taken to be constant, oscillate round a more distant
and still more constant mean ?

Observation had long ago detected a continual acceleration in the
movement of Jupiter, and a not less certain diminution in the movement
of Saturn. Now, to say of a star that its velocity augments, is to declare
that it draws nearer its centre of movement. To say that its velocity de-
creases, is to affirm that it is retiring from that centre.

It would seem, therefore, that Jupiter,1 the greatest of our planets, is
destined to be swallowed up, or absorbed, in the incandescent mass of the
Sun, while Saturn,2 with its belt and eight satellites, will gradually wander

1 The equatorial diameter of Jupiter in English miles is 56,065 ; its density is '24 of
the Earth's; its distance from the sun, 494,270,000 miles ; inclination of its orbit to the
ecliptic, i° 18' 51".

2 The equatorial diameter of Saturn in English miles is 79,147 ; its density, "12, the
Earth = i ; its distance from the sun, 906,200,000 miles ; and the inclination of its orbit
to the ecliptic, 2° 29' 36".

THE ASTRONOMY OF ATOMS. 387

It is thus that in chemistry, which I would call the
astronomy of atoms, it is shown that bodies are only so far
decomposed as to admit of their recombination in new forms ;
the end of one is the beginning of another.

Now, that which is true of the systems of the elementary
bodies composing terrestrial matter, is, in all probability, true
also — why should it not be ? — of the systems of the celestial
bodies.

Differences of magnitude, of space, and of time, which over-
whelm our feeble imaginations, vanish before the unity of plan
of the Creator's thought. A crystalline molecule, which will

further and further into the mysterious infinity of space. It is true enough
that these catastrophes are very distant,— distant to a period of time which
the human imagination cannot even grasp, — and the " common herd" will
certainly feel no anxious apprehension about an event which will not take
place until myriads of years have elapsed.

Yet, in the last century, the question excited the curiosity of certain
scientific societies, and they directed the attention of the geometers to
these formidable perturbations. Euler and Lagrange spent their keen in-
tellects upon them to no profit. Laplace discovered that between the mean
velocities of Jupiter and Saturn the ratios are simple, and capable of calcu-
lation; five times the velocity of Saturn perceptibly equals ten times the
velocity of Jupiter. These terms, which, in the regularly-decreasing and
indefinite series, might have been neglected, have acquired a value which
was worthy of being taken into consideration. From thence result, in the
movements of the two planets, those perturbations whose complete develop-
ment necessitates a period of upwards of nine hundred years This

will be, then, another periodic inequality.

But, independently of the centres, which we suppose to be in themselves
variable, may there not exist, in the space traversed by our planet, some
cause of perturbation ? Is our system so isolated in the universe that it
neither receives nor loses aught of that which constitutes its force and mat-
ter ? Is there no solidarity between its different worlds ? And if this soli-
darity exists, is not their transformation a necessity?

388 MAN'S NE PLUS ULTRA.

not affect the finest balance, is a world, with an equator and
poles of its own, and its central atom round which atomic
satellites gravitate. Whether these atoms are infinitely small
or infinitely great, whether the time of their revolutions is
measured by thousandths of a second or by myriads of years,
is of little importance so far as their gravitation (ponderation^
or poising) is concerned. For this ponderation is absolutely
identical, whether we call it affinity^ — when speaking of the
atomic movements of chemically decomposable matter; or
gravitation or attraction, when referring to those atoms of the
great whole which we call stars, and whose metamorphic scale
is far beyond the range of beings planted on the surface of
one of the stellar atoms. However profound may be the
researches of our astronomers, they will never attain to a
knowledge of the metamorphoses of worlds. The spectacle
of celestial spheres rising anew from their ashes, like "the
Arabian bird " of fable, will be as impossible for them as the
knowledge of the decompositions and recompositions of our
material bodies would be for chemists, planted on the surface
of an atom of carbon. How, from such a stand-point, could
they contemplate the manifold forms of matter, and embrace
at a glance all its changes? . . . Well, we are relatively as
powerless as these imaginary denizens of an atom of matter,
rooted as we are to the crust of a planet, — a molecule sus-
pended in the eternal ocean.

What shall we now say of the forms and movements of
living matter ?

In the first place, that they are infinitely more varied and

WHAT IS LIFE! 389

more changeful than those of inanimate nature. Next, that
the difference between their metamorphoses is very wide. The
eye can follow the transformations of a rock exposed to the
decomposing action of the agents which surround us on every
side. This action is calculable, and the elements which it
has dissociated may be determined and weighed. The effects
of the force, called either affinity or attraction, which main-
tains these elements united, are not beyond the range of our
observation; tables of affinity, and of atomic weights, have
been constructed, which enable the chemist to dominate over
matter, just as the astronomer embraces the stars, the atoms
of the world, by the law of universal gravitation.

But no sooner is matter interpenetrated by that mysterious
force which we call life, than our most potent means of inves-
tigation suddenly cease to be efficient. Undoubtedly, you
may analyse the seed before you sow it, and thus may ascer-
tain that it consists of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and azote. But
with the same elements attempt to recompose your seed, using
exactly the same proportions as those you discovered in it ;
and if you think that your synthesis has been successful, ensure
that your grain, once confided to the earth, shall become a
focus of divers movements, giving birth below to the ramifica-
cations of the root, terminated by the spongioles, — above, to
the ramifications of the stem, garnished with leaves, flowers,
and fruits ; finally, ensure that this aggregate of organs, multi-
plying millions of times the weight and volume of the seed,
shall always and exactly reproduce the same type or the same
species.

390 THE UNDISCOVERABLE SECRET.

If, with your apparatus, — if, with the means at the disposal
of humanity, — you should succeed in achieving all these mar-
vels of nature; then perhaps you might settle the great
problem of what life is, — whether an independent force, or a
simple modification of an universal force, of which heat,
light, electricity, and magnetism, will be but different modes
of manifestation.

And yet, even in such a case, you must not boast too loudly
of your power ; for you will find it necessary to turn and re-
turn the term you have arrived at, in every direction ; nor will
it furnish you with the relation or the cause of the formidable
progression whose alpha and omega, whose beginning and
end, escape us so absolutely.

Whence, in all its interminable metamorphoses, whence
comes life ? Whither goes it ? Were our world to perish, its
ruins would not cease, in their apparently disorderd move-
ments, to obey the law of universal gravitation : they would
so group themselves as to form other worlds, resembling the
system of which they were anteriorly the framework. But this
force in no wise tells you why, when, and how life will make
its appearance on these spheroids of revolution, which, in
their state of ponderation, are attracted in the direct ratio of
their masses and in the inverse ratio of the square of their
distances.

This is not all. Man justly plumes himself on having
arrived, by a process of experiment, at the following irrefrag-
able axiom : that " the matter which serves for the movements

WHA T LIES BE YOND ! 391

of life renews itself, while the mould or form remains." You
may even affirm, without appearing too adventurous, that the
innumerable whirling globules which enter into the composi-
tion of the human blood are so many microscopical individuals,
each with its own proper life, — infinitesimal forms which are
born, and move to and fro, and disappear, and are renewed,
without the individual — whose aggregate they perform — having
any consciousness of all this activity.

Thus it is that the collective integral being which we call
humanity, lives and is developed through the removal of the
individuals composing it, — ephemeral creatures, each of whom
thinks himself a god !

Must we stop there ? That would be to declare humanity
the last term of a progression whose commencement and
end, according to our own acknowledgment, completely
escape us : it would be at once a contradiction and a flagrant
violation of the great law of infinite continuity which reigns
everywhere.

To suppose that beyond humanity there is only nothingness,
would be to enunciate an hypothesis as puerile as that which
pretended the earth was not only the centre of our system,
but the sole inhabited or inhabitable point in the immensity
of space, and that the stars of the firmament were created for
the service and pleasure of mortals. Suppose that this absurd
belief were true ; of what use, I ask you, would be all our
agitations, all our flutterings, all our conceptions, all our
conquests, all our glories, all our memories, when the end of

392 INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF THOUGHT.

the world would sweep away and annihilate our race? It
was well worth the trouble, truly, of being born, of living,
and of suffering, to terminate, after all, in so inglorious a
fashion ! . . . Adhere to your hypothesis, materialist, if you
have the courage ; surely, no man of sense can accept it !

Let us now resume the thread of our meditations.

The end of our system has come at last : the sun, the
planets, and their satellites form but one chaotic igneous mass,
— a brilliant fugitive luminary, new-born to the inhabitants of
worlds which have escaped intact.

The dust of our extinguished world will not be scattered
hap-hazard ; the molecules of matter, indissolubly linked to-
gether by universal gravitation, will so arrange themselves as
to constitute a new, and perhaps a more perfect world. But
in the constitution of this new world, balanced like the old,
our human bones, our ashes united with those of our ancestors,
may have, as far as they are matter, their due share. As for
the Thought which makes the true power of humanity, which
gives to man all his value, — Thought, perfectible and trans-
missible,— it will contribute nothing, because it is absolutely
imponderable and impassible. Will it then be lost for
ever?

If the world is to last for ever, you may justly regard as
immortal the indefinite transmission of Thought, and the per-
petuity of the memory of certain great men. But will all this
avail, if the world must perish ?

The world will never end, you say ; it is eternal.

THE FUTURE OF HUMANITY. 393

But how do you know this ? If it has had a beginning, as
geology and astronomy prove,* it will also have an end. This
end, however, will not be an annihilation ; it will simply be,
as we have already pointed out, a transformation of matter.
As for the problems, whether nature itself was created, and
whether it is eternal, let us leave them" to the discussion of
heated theoricians, who are too blind to perceive that some
questions it is wisest neither to affirm nor deny, but to know
how to ignore.

The error, then, which we have been considering, destroys
itself through its consequences. Let us admit, in effect, that
our world — such as it is, just as it is — will last for ever. In
that case what becomes of the power and travail of humanity ?
All they have accomplished are some slight changes of the
terrestrial crust, barely sufficient, here and there, to modify the
influences of climate. A limited number of men labour, it is
true, for the progress and full development of transmissible
thought. But even supposing that, in the course of centuries,
humanity succeeds in comprehending, it can only grow through
the development of the faculties of all its members, and
the due balance of all the social forces by means of liberty.
Supposing that reason, united to science and conscience, should
finally combine in one family the various tribes and peoples
scattered over the earth's broad surface; do you indulge
yourself in the hope of crossing the limits of the human

* Our author, it must be understood, is considering these questions apart
from the Scriptural standpoint.

394 LIMITA TIONS OF HUMAN PO WER.

organization, and establishing the royalty of man "through
the interpretation and imitation of Nature ? "

Do you cherish the idea of penetrating, through the per-
fect union of all your intellectual forces, the mysteries of
creation ?

No ; you would never dare to form such a hope, to nourish
such an idea, at least unless you felt that the earth (which you
must first demonstrate) comprehends in itself the whole uni-
verse, that the humanity swarming on its surface is eternal,
that every other creature is absolutely subordinate to it : in a
word, that Man is all !

But we know how limited is human power. We are not
masters even of the mechanism of the body ; the movements
of organic life are independent of our will; we can neither
command the stomach, the lungs, nor the heart : that mar-
vellous process of absorption and elimination, that perpetual
movement hither or thither which constitutes the essence of
the assimilative function, goes on in us — as in all living
beings, animal or vegetable — completely outside our sphere of
activity. Then, without quitting our planet, how numerous
are the movements which still escape the human will !

It is quite different when we lift up our eyes to examine the
face of heaven. We have no grasp whatever of the incom-
mensurable spiraloids of innumerable worlds to which our own
belongs; we have no means of communicating with the inhabit-
ants of other planets ; we cannot establish any interchange of
thought with the men (if there be any) of Mercury, Venus,

ARE THE PLANETS INHABITED 1 395

Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, — who form, perhaps, like the men of the
earth, the most elevated circle of material life, varying under
an infinity of forms upon each of their floating domiciles. . . .
I see you smiling, reader, because you do not believe that
these other earths — satellites of the sun, like our own — are
inhabited by beings analagous to our human race. You are at
liberty not to believe it. But then, to be in agreement with
yourselves, you ought to declare in favour of the Science of the
Past, though demonstrated to be false, against the Science of
the Present. Will you do so ? Certainly not. But then, of
two things, one : either you will be obliged to make the earth
an unique exception, a kind of monstrosity in the midst of the
other mechanism of the universe, which will be to throw your-
self back upon the erroneous science of the ancients ; or you
must perforce admit that the earth is not specially privileged,
and that the other planets, its companions, have also their
human inhabitants.

Is this all? Alas, all this is nothing! The other worlds
whose suns appear to us under the form of scintillating points
or stars, will, undoubtedly, in like manner, possess their
systems of planets and satellites. Why should they divaricate
from the general plan of the universe? Now, multiply the
number of the stars — who has counted them ? — with the pro-
bable number of their planets, and you will gain, if this be
permitted you, the number of humanities who people yonder
star-sown space. And it is not only with these we must be
able to correspond, but with the humanities of all the nebulae

WORLDS AND OTHER WORLDS.

of all the firmaments — for remember our starry heaven itself
is but a nebula — that we must establish an interchange of
ideas, if you would have your power, and civilisation, and
intellectual royalty, something more than a mere optical
illusion of your pride.

You do not cease to proclaim as an axiom that " there are
no abrupt intervals in Nature;" that Nature never ventures
upon sudden leaps or bounds (" in natura non datur saltus "),
and yet you would make an exception for the world of thought
— a world which no more lies outside the laws of nature than
does the physical world. The former ought even to secure our
preference; it is there only that we are free, that we can
become true creators, by creating for ourselves our own
happiness ; that we can grow great before our own eyes, by
following, not the tyrannous will of the brute, but the tender
voice of the angel ; by listening to conscience — that pure and
infallible counsellor — conscience, the foundation of all justice,
the latent force of generations passing away and coming, the
universal gravitation of our species as of all the ultra-terrestrial
humanities.

But how can the humanities, with which we suppose the
universe to be peopled, — how can they communicate with one
another ?

The law of attraction comprehends not only the celestial
bodies, but also their intervals, the intersidereal spaces. Do
these spaces present a void to the thinking beings who pro-
bably people the stars ?

ON THE CONTINUITY OF BEING. 397

Everything, force and matter, testifies to an entire unity of
plan or thought, and the mind which is powerful enough to
rise above all the attractions and influences of the body, the
mind which, by its continuous labour, alone renders life and
man of any importance, the mind once detached from the ani-
mal nature which it drags behind it like a prisoner to the
chariot of his conqueror, shall it be inferior to inert matter ?
shall it be less than a ship without its compass ? Continuous
here, shall that continuity be elsewhere broken up ? Surely
this is impossible.

But how are we to recognise this continuity of essence in a
spirit which, like man's, appears unavoidably fixed, like a para-
site, to the surface of a planet ?

Here lies the whole difficulty of the question ; a question all
the more perplexing because, in the search after scientific
truth, the mind walks surely and steadily, except when resting
upon the senses, — which are the backbone, so to speak, of the
experimental method.

Answers, indeed, are not wanting, for each religion has its
own. Every creed attempts to solve the problem. But then,
faith is required to accept the answer or solution, and alas !
faith is not implanted in every soul. It is useless, therefore,
to wish that it might be the gift of those who, to the authority
of tradition and long-established dogmas, prefer the liberty of
discussion and the axioms of science. Are our bigots actually
aware of what they do when they seek to compel into their
circle of belief those minds which tend to escape from it at a

398 THE DIVINE PURPOSE.

tangent ? We assert that in so doing they are guilty of an act
of iniquity, of a veritable blasphemy.

Some explanation is necessary here. You believe, we hope,
in the majesty, power, wisdom, and mercy of God, in the
revelations He has vouchsafed to man, in the immortality of
the soul. These are great problems, however ; the greatest
problems a mortal can venture to discuss. Already I see the
bigot frowning ; he professes to be shocked by the word " pro-
blem," he would fain substitute for it that of " certainty " or
" truth." Well, through faith we accept them as truths ; but,
metaphysically speaking, they may be regarded as problems
which the All-wise has submitted to man's earnest considera-
tion. In fact, the God in whom you and we believe, in
whom you and we put all our trust, has surrounded them with
something of uncertainty, has invested them with so much of
doubtfulness as may test our faith.

Yes, in doing so, He has had a purpose to fulfil. Let us
think of a geometrician — and an ancient writer said that God,
by creating the world, created geometry — for the sake of exer-
cising the minds of his pupils, his children, giving them a pro-
blem to be solved.

If at the same time, he placed before them the solution, he
would assuredly fail in his object. No means would remain of
distinguishing the capable from the incapable, the studious
from the indifferent, the idler from the worker, if they all
found the question answered beforehand !

True, if the problem is too difficult, if the solution lies be-

QUESTIONS UNANSWERED. 399

yond the faculties of those whom he wishes to test and put to
the proof, the master will not fail to furnish them with all the
elements necessary for their guidance, whether they consider
it from without, or whether they consider it with the help of
their own inner consciousness.

But science and conscience stand in need of an equally
difficult task ; the first, that it may learn to observe clearly, the
latter that it may learn to act purely. And it is here, above all,
that the two-fold nature of man becomes a perplexity and a
stumbling-block. On the one hand, man creates theories, in
order to disembarrass himself of the science which calls for the
exercise of powerful and laborious observation ; on the other,
he creates dogmas, which he hopes may lull to sleep that ever
active, ever restless conscience, which demands fertile and
beneficial actions, and rejects barren or deceitful phrases.

It is true that to many minds the discussion of the questions
at which we have hinted seems a sorry work, because the time
given for their discussion is necessarily so limited. What is
life ? they say. What can be effected in so short an interval ?
What can man hope to accomplish in the few short years that
intervene between manhood, when the mind is mature, and
old age, when the intellect grows enfeebled ? These are the
men who echo the old poet's mournful cry : — *

" A good that never satisfies the mind,
A beauty fading like the April flowers,
A sweet with floods of gall that runs combined,
A pleasure passing ere in thought made ours,

* William Drummond.

*oo AN IGNOBLE VIE W OF LIFE.

An honour that more fickle is than wind,

A glory at opinion's frown that lowers,

A treasury which bankrupt Time devours,

A knowledge than grave ignorance more blind,

A vain delight our equals to command,

A style of greatness in effect a dream,

A swelling thought of holding sea and land,

A servile lot, decked with a pompous name ;

Are the strange ends we toil for here below,

Till wisest death make us our urns know."

But the poet, while taking this despondent view of life,
forgets — not only that it is an opportunity, but — that it is the
first stage of an eternal existence, and that the progress begun
now shall be continued hereafter, when the mind, freed from
its material clogs, shall enter upon the full fruition of its
wondrous powers. And however brief it may be, is it not
better it should be devoted to noble work than to ignoble
idleness ? Is it not better to use it as a time of preparation
than to waste it in empty pleasures ? To the despairing wail
of the poet just quoted we would oppose, as far worthier of a
gallant spirit, Ben Jonson's admirable conclusions : —

" It is not growing like a tree

In bulk, doth make men better be ;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere.
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night ;
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see,
And in short measure life may perfect be."

This is the true philosophy ; to make our life as perfect as

A PLEA FOR LIBERTY.

our faculties will permit, and to look upon it as the introduc-
tion to a grander life, where the problems here discussed shall
find a satisfactory solution.

" Oh for the time when in our seraph wings

We veil our brows before the Eternal Throne—
The day when, drinking knowledge at its springs,
We know as we are known."

Lot us beware, however, when we devote our life to the
pursuit of wisdom, that we do not make a false start. Do not
let us diverge into the narrow way of bigotry and dogma. It
is the property of exclusive and intolerant error to dominate
and to reign alone. For this reason we systematically refuse
and reject all control; and it is thus men have been fatally led
to lay a rash hand upon intellectual liberty, — liberty, which the
All-wise Himself has refrained from touching ! Such is the
early taint of our race, the moral situation of humanity.

But retribution has followed close upon this violation of
all that is most sacred in our human world. The schools of
philosophy, and the infallible creeds, founded upon authority
to the exclusion of all mental and spiritual freedom, have never
ceased to be at war with one another, and instead of labouring
for that union which is strength, — that union so necessary to
the happiness and advancement of humanity, — they have
everywhere sown irreconcilable antipathies and bloody dis-
cords. Such is the religion of those who, under a pretence of
worshipping God, worship only themselves ! History affords
us abundant illustrations of this melancholy truth.

Finally, let us return to our metamorphosis. The butterfly,

2 c

402 THE FUNCTION OF METAMORPHOSIS.

which the Greeks designated by the same word as the soul,
•^vffl, springs, like every living creature, from an egg. But see
what a transformation this egg undergoes ! It becomes a
caterpillar — a transitory form of animal life, remarkable for its
voracity ; this caterpillar is in its turn transformed ; it grows
into a chrysalis, — a temporary tomb, and whence issues the
winged insect, alone adapted to the discharge of all the func-
tions of a perfect animal. Gluttonous and greedy of enjoy-
ment, the caterpillar lived for itself. So the caterpillar has
no sex ; while the butterfly hovers from flower to flower, has to
seek therein its own nourishment, there to find the companion
with whom its being is to be united.

This metamorphosis impresses the observer; principally
because its periods are so distinct, and are so plainly
marked by stages, which have all the appearance of veritable
species. But he would greatly err if he thought it confined to
a certain class of insects. All insects, — nay, more, all animals,
including man himself, — undergo certain transformations in
the course of their lives. Metamorphosis plays an important
part in the unity of the general scheme of Creative Thought.
If it is not always recognised, the reason is, that its phases are
not boldly marked, that the periods blend into one another,
that the various stages are effaced in the continuousness of the
transformation.

But let not this continuity prevent the observer from de-
tecting or discerning in that which is, that which is to come*

AN EMBLEM OF IMMORTALITY. 403

In the caterpillar he must learn to see the chrysalis ; in the
chrysalis he must be ready to recognise the future butterfly.
And in all these changes the thoughtful mind may acknow-
ledge a significant emblem of that immortality of the soul,
that final transformation of humanity, which the Word of God
has promised to us : —

" Child of the sun ! pursue thy rapturous flight,
Mingling with her thou lov'st in fields of light ;
And, where the fields of Paradise unfold,
Quaff fragrant nectars from their cups of gold.
There shall thy wings, rich as an evening sky,
Expand and shut with silent ecstasy !
Yet wert thou once a worm, a thing that crept
On the bare earth, then wrought a tomb and slept.
And such is man ; soon from his cell of clay
To burst a seraph in the blaze of day." *

To assure ourselves by observation that, in living matter,
there are organs irrevocably destined to decay or disappear,
while others incline and grow towards perfection, is certainly
one of the noblest studies imaginable. If philosophers,
instead of employing their time in profitless speculations,
devoted themselves to the examination of the great Book of
Nature, God's second revelation, they would long ago have
discovered what they are still seeking.

And we should now know how to distinguish, in man as in
the insect, the rudimentary condition of his future life ; and the
belief in the immortality of the soul would not only be the
creed of the Christian, but a scientific truth.

* Samuel Rogers.

APPENDIX.

APPENDIX.

THE SOLAR ECLIPSE OF 1870.

THE total Solar Eclipse, which is to render famous the month
of December in the present year — famous, that is, in astrono-
mical annals — deserves, we think, some special notice in our
pages. In 1860, the Himalaya was fitted out by Government
for the use' of the savants desirous of observing the Solar
Eclipse visible that year in Spain, and the results of the expe-
dition were so important as fully to warrant the liberality of
the Government. The eclipse of the present year will also be
visible in Spain, but the path of the sun's shadow will pass as
far north as Cape Spartel, and, crossing Algeria, will go north-
wards, via Sicily, and in the direction of Constantinople. The
totality of the eclipse will not last so long as that of the
Indian eclipse in 1868. The sun will be hidden from sight
for no longer period than about two minutes twelve seconds,
and whatever observations our astronomers are anxious to
make must be made in that brief interval. It may not un-

4o8 THE TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE.

reasonably be suggested that, in so short a time, no data can
be ascertained worth the cost and trouble the proposed expe-
dition will necessitate ; but the reader requires to be informed
that the most valuable acquisitions lately won in the region of
solar physics have been the result of observations which may
almost be described as momentary.

What, then, is the important point on which our astronomers
hope to gain information from a close examination of the
approaching eclipse ?

This question has been ably answered by a well-informed
writer in the Daily News. The great problem to be solved
is that of the strange appearance of the solar corona • of that
glory of light which rings round the great luminary when totally
eclipsed, to it, as some astronomers assert, a purely optical
phenomenon, or, as others more reasonably declare, " one of
the most imposing of all the features of the solar system." It
is true that the former opinion is held by such men as Faye,
Lockyer, and Professor Airy ; but if it be founded on fact, the
phenomenon loses all its importance, and nearly all its interest.
If the other opinion prove correct, and the corona is discovered
to be in reality an appendage of the orb of day, then the mind
must at once acknowledge its unsurpassed splendour, its mag-
nificent proportions. As its glow and ethereal radiancy often
extends several degrees from the eclipsed sun, its diameter
cannot be less than 2,800,000 miles.

Assume, then, that it is shaped like a globe, that it is the
globular envelope (so to speak) of the sun, and we may con-
clude that its outer boundary would at most enclose a volume

A PROBLEM TO SOLVE. 409

twenty-seven times as large as the sun's, or, in other words,
twenty-seven million time? larger than our terrestrial world.

It is in reference to this magnificent phenomenon that we
hope to obtain some satisfactory information in December
1870. The results ascertained from the eclipse of 1868 proved
to be almost directly contradictory to those obtained last year
in the United States, and the problem now is, to discover why
these results were contradictory.

In the meantime, — observes the writer already quoted, —
some astronomers say that the observations already made
suffice to show the real nature of the solar corona. " It has
frequently happened that, with the means of solving a problem
ready at their hands, astronomers have been content rather to
wait till new observations removed their doubts, than to under-
take the work of carefully analysing the facts already dis-
covered. It is urged that the atmospheric explanation (Faye's
and Lockyer's) is opposed by simple optical considerations;
that the blackness of the moon's disc, in the very heart of the
corona, affords the most unmistakable evidence that the
moon lies nearer to us than the corona." The solar glare
which, according to Faye's theory, illuminates our atmosphere,
ought, according to this view — and ordinary reasoners will
think this argument irrefragable — to cover the lunar disc as
well as the surrounding heavens.

It is also argued, very forcibly, that the active atmosphere
above the horizon of the observer is partially obscured during
total eclipse, while all that part lying in the direction in which
the corona is seen is wholly shielded from the direct rays of

410 MR PROCTOR'S THEORY.

the sun, and cannot, therefore, furnish the "atmospheric
glare " on which M. Faye relies.

M. Faye's theory is powerfully combated in a paper read
by Mr Proctor before the Royal Astronomical Society, and a
summary of which appeared in " Nature." *

He remarked that if we in reality possess sufficient evidence
to determine whether the corona is or is not a solar appendage,
it would be unfortunate for, and in some sense a discredit to
science, if the precious seconds available for observers in
December next were wasted upon observations directed to
such a point determinable beforehand.

He proceeded to express his belief that the corona was no
terrestrial phenomenon, arguing that the very blackness of the
moon as compared with the corona (to which we have already
referred), shows that the coronal splendour is behind the moon.
In fact, the moon is projected on the corona as on a back-
ground j whereas, if the light be due to atmospheric glare, the
corona ought to be a foreground.

This argument, however, may fail on the ground of its
very simplicity. Mr Proctor, therefore, proceeded to inquire
whether air which lies between the observer and the corona
is really illuminated. He pointed out that all round the sun,
for many degrees, perfect darkness should prevail if the
illumination of the atmosphere by direct solar light were in
question. As to the atmospheric glare caused by the coloured
flames and prominences of the sun's disc, it must be com-
paratively small, bearing no higher proportion to the actual
" Nature," vol. i. p. 543.

WHAT IS THE CORONA i 41 1

light of the atmosphere than ordinary atmospheric glare bears
to actual sunlight, — a very small proportion indeed.

But a fatal objection to the theory that the corona is due
either to the glare from the prominences or to light reflected
from the surrounding air, consisted in the fact that the so-
called glare ought to cover the moon's disc.

Mr Proctor next referred to a number of observations in
support of the view that the coronal light is not terrestrial ;
such as the appearance of glare during partial eclipses, the
glare always trenching on the lunar disc ; the relatively greater
darkness of the central part of the lunar disc in annular
eclipses ; the visibility of that part of the lunar disc which lies
beyond the sun in partial eclipses, the limb being seen dark on
the background of the sky ; and the visibility of the corona
in partial eclipses; — were its most distinctive peculiarities,
having been recognised when the sun's face is not wholly
covered.
- What, then, is the actual nature of the corona ?

May it not consist of the denser parts of meteoric systems
travelling round the sun ?

Leverrier has shown, and Mr Buxendell has helped to show,
that the motion of Mercury's perihelion indicates the presence
of a ring of bodies in the vicinity of the sun ; but we have
good reason for believing that for each meteor system our
earth encounters, there must be millions on millions whose
perihelia lie within the earth's orbit. Since the earth meets
with fifty-six such systems, it will be seen how enormous pro-
bably is the total number.

412 AN INTERESTING SUBJECT.

Is, then, the corona simply the projection of these systems,
illuminated as they must be by an intensity of solar light
exceeding many hundred-fold that which illumines our summer
days, nay, in certain places, were raised by his heat to a state
of incandescence ?

Such aie some of the questions which, it is hoped, the
eclipse of December 1870 will help to solve; and we think
our readers will admit that their importance justifies us in
looking forward to the approaching phenomenon with anxious
curiosity. The bounds of human knowledge are gradually
enlarging; and as they enlarge, they do but more vividly
illustrate the infinite wisdom and perfectness of the scheme
of creation.

COLOURED STARS.

Before bringing these pages to a close, and appending to
our description of Everyday Objects (everyday, but not com-
monplace) the word " Finis," we wish to direct the reader's
attention to the subject of coloured stars ; not because these
beautiful spheres can be fairly classed under our general title,
but because they serve to show the peculiar attractiveness and
novelty of scientific inquiry, and the wonderful results that
spring from the persevering study of God's universe.

To the eye of the ordinary observer, one star seems much
like another; these "lamps of night" differ, indeed, in
brilliancy, in their distance from the earth, in their relative
magnitudes; but to all appearance they exhibit a complete

COLOURED STARS. 413

identity in physical constitution, and their white light has
furnished poetry with one of its commonest images.

But the astronomer, armed with his wonder-revealing glass,
has discovered that innumerable stars are exquisitely coloured ;
that some are blue, and others green, and others red. If on
a clear night you examine Perseus with your telescope, you
will find that the star Eta is of a glowing red. In the system
of Ophiuchus you will encounter a blue star ; in that of Draco,
a deep red star ; Taurus has a large red and a small bluish
star; and in Argo, a blue sun is attended by a dark-red
satellite.

The stars occur in double, triple, or multiple groups or
clusters ; and the systems so constituted differ from what we
presumptuously call the Solar System in their colouring ; and
in this variety or diversity, yet another variety is visible. The
binary coloured systems are not all composed of blue and
red suns. In that of Gamma Andromedas the great central
orb is of an orange hue, the moon revolving round it green
as emerald. What results from the marriage of these two
colours — from this union of orange and emerald? Do we
not see in it, says a French astronomer,* a combination, if the
phrase is allowable, full of youth (assoriimeni pkin dejeunesse} —
a grand, a magnificent orange-coloured sun in the midst of
the firmament — next to it, a resplendent emerald, which inter-
weaves with the gold its greenish gleams ?

The following lively picture is borrowed from the graphic
pages of M. Flammarion.

* Flammarion, "Les Merveilles Celestes," pp. 160, 161.

4J4 COLOURED STARS.

There is more variety, he says, in the innumerable star-sys-
tems which crowd the fields of space, than in all the changes
which the most skilful opticians can project on the screen of
a magic lantern. Some of the planetary universes lighted up
by two suns display the entire gamut of colours above blue,
but are without the sparkling tints of gold and purple which
contribute so greatly to the luminosity of our world.

In this category may be placed certain systems situated in
the constellations of Andromedae, the Serpent, Ophiuchus, and
Coma Berenices.

Others are illuminated by red suns, as, for example, a double
star in Leo.

Others, again, are wholly dominated by blue and yellow, or,
at least, are kindled by a blue sun and a yellow sun, which
afford but a limited series of the tints or shades comprised
in the combinations of these primitive colours ; such are the
systems of Ceta, Eridanus (where one is straw-coloured, the
other blue), Cameleopardalis, Orion, Rhinoceros, Gemini,
Bootes (where the greater one is yellow, and the lesser a
greenish blue), and Cygnus (where the smaller is " blue as a
sapphire "). On the other hand, combinations of red and green
may be found in Cassiopeia, Coma Berenices, and Hercules.

There are other stellar systems which, according to Flam-
marion, more nearly approximate to our own, in the sense
that one of the suns illuminating them has, like ours, a white
light, — the source of all colours, — while its neighbouring lumi-
nary casts a permanent reflection upon everything. Such, for

A THEME FOR A POET. 415

instance, are the worlds revolving round the great sun of
Alpha, in Aries ; this great sun is white, but a smaller sun is
constantly visible in the sky, whose azure reflections cover as
with "a diaphanous veil" the various objects exposed to its
rays. Number 26 in Ceta presents the same conditions,
which are those, too, of a great number of the most brilliant
stars. In the case of the worlds gravitating round the prin-
cipal world of these binary systems, the originative white
lustre would appear to create the infinite varieties noticeable
upon the earth, with the distinction, of course, that an azure
gleam constantly issues from the other sun ; but for the planets
gravitating round the latter, the predominant colouring will be
blue, tempered by the action of the remoter white sun.

And just as white suns have blue suns for their companions,
so have red suns yellow, or vice versa. What a strange and
curious radiance — like that of "a dome of many-coloured
glass " — must be shed upon a planet by its red and green or
yellow and blue suns ! What striking contrasts, what fairy-
like changes, must be produced by a red day and a green day
succeeding alternately to a white day, or a day of darkness !
Why do not our poets take up such a theme as this? Can
they find aught more remarkable or more eery in the dreams
of their imagination ?

Supposing that these wonderful spheres are surrounded, like
Jupiter or Saturn, by a ring of satellites, what can be their
aspect when lit up by several suns, each sun a source of
different-coloured light ?

This one, we may imagine, will be divided into hemispheres,

" CELESTIAL JEWELS!'

red and blue, that will suspend in the firmament a crescent
of gold j another will seem to drop from the azure circle like
a gorgeous cluster of emerald fruit. Ruby moons, opaline

FIG. 82. — "Bright with the beauty of the silver moon.:>

moons, moons of jasper and amethyst, — all shining with a
mystic and indescribable radiance, — surely the heavens are
decked with jewels like an Eastern queen !

Our poets may chant the praises of our modest, simple
nights, of our calm, hushed heavens, bright only with the
beauty of the silver moon, which pours its pale lustre with a
winning charm on town and tree, on wood and lake. They
may sing, as Barry Cornwall sings —

A HYMN TO NIGHT. 4*7

" Now to thy silent presence, night !

Is this my first song offer'd : oh ! to thee
That lookest with' thy thousand eyes of light —

To thee and thy starry nobility
That float with a deli cious murmuring —

Though unheard here — about thy forehead blue ;

And as they ride along in order due,
Circling the round globe in their wandering.
To thee their ancient queen and mother sing. . . .
Not dull and cold and dark art thou :
Who that beholds thy clearer brow,
Endiademed with gentlest streaks

Of fleecy-silver'd cloud, adorning
/ Thee, fair as when the young sun wakes. . . ,

But must feel thy powers."

In some such ecstatic strains as this we may laud our
moonlit nights, acknowledging in our heart of hearts the
power of their silent, subtle loveliness ; but how shall we com-
pare them with nights made wonderful by a blending of golden
and emerald fires? by the shifting coruscations of stars of
many colours ?

But here we must conclude a dissertation which threatens to
become a rhapsody. It is difficult, however, to treat of such
a theme, and to follow up all its strange and startling sugges-
tions, in sober prose.

THE ALPINE FLORA.

The Alpine Flora, of which in a preceding section we have
given a very imperfect sketch, has been examined with loving
minuteness by Messrs Elijah Walton and T. G. Bonney; and
other united results of pen and pencil have been placed be-
fore the public in a handsome volume entitled " Flowers

2 D

418 THE ALPINE PLANTS.

from the Upper Alps, with Glimpses of their Homes." A
somewhat similar subject has been treated with much delicacy
of feeling and fervour of description by the Rev. Hugh Mac-
millan, in his " Holidays in High Lands."

Among the Alpine plants sketched and described by Messrs
Walton and Bonney are the beautiful Lychnis, a close relative
of our corncockle and garden pink, and so called, says Gerard,
the quaint old botanist, because it is a "light-giving flower."
He also met with immense breadths of violet pansies, — " that's
for thoughts," says Ophelia, — covering the sloping pasture-
grounds of the Col d'Autune, and blending with rose and star
gentians, soldanellas, primulas, and anemones. The pink
blossoms and bare stem of the house leek is found " among the
blocks tumbled down from the ice-streams, and its sparkling
clusters seem to glow with a richer hue on the stony ruin
which has shattered the pine, and crushed the life even out of
the rhododendron."

In the Glarus Alps the odorous cr imson tufts of the Kamm-
Ihime are discovered in a profusion which rejoices and
astonishes the traveller. The yellow-blossomed ragwort
spreads its stem over the rugged mountain- sides in every
Alpine district. But next in fame and beauty to the gentians,
— which is, par excellence, the mountain-flower, — must be placed
the edelwein, celebrated by Kobele and other famous poets,
and growing in almost every part of the Alps from Dauphine
to the Dolomites.

For further details respecting a most interesting branch of
botany, we refer the reader to the two works already named,

USIQ UITY OF DIVINE LOVE. 419

and he will find that the barrenest, stoniest slope of the Alpine
rocks, the bleak recesses where the ice river has its origin,
and the rugged ledge where the pitiless winds seem to expend
their wildest fury, have their objects of grace and beauty, —
their gentle and ever-welcome evidence of the Divine love,
the Divine wisdom, and the Divine power, as exercised for the
delight of man in the remotest wildernesses of the earth. The
love of God is everywhere.

INDEX.

" ACADEMY," the, quoted, 369-371.
Achtysia, the genus, characteristics of

353-
sEskna. grandis, described, 178 ; forci-

pata, 178, 179.
Agariciis Ccesareus, the, description of,

333. 334-
Agarics, varieties of, characterised, 335,

336-
Agarions, the, general characteristics of

their form, 79.

Agarion virgo, the, described, 179.
Alps, the, an excursion among, 256-260.
Alpine snail, the, remarkable transparency

of, 71.
Amanita muscaria, the, described, 328-

330 ; its poisonous properties, 331-333.
Amanita solitariits, the, description of,

33i.
Amphibia, the, number of species of, 361,

362.
Anaximander, the author of the " Urano-

metria," his enumeration of the stars,

25-

Ancients, the, their notion of the earth's
shape, 104-107.

Anemones, the, blossoming time of, 157,
158 ; their sensitiveness to atmospheric
changes, 158 ; varieties of, 159 ; refer-
ences to, by Drayton, 159-161.

Animal life, distribution of, 357, 366.

Antipodes, the, existence of, believed in
by the ancients, 107 ; proved by Colum-
bus, 108, 109.

Arabs of the desert, the, their nomencla-
ture for the stars, 22, 23.

Aratus, the author of "Phenomena,"
quoted, 22.

Arctic vole, the, discovery of, by M. Hugi,
50, 51 ; described by its discoverer, 51 ;
examined and named by M. Martins,

5*> 52.

Arcturus, the star, its colour, 23.
Argesilaus, the author of the "Urano-

metria," his enumeration of the stars, 25.
Aristotle, the Greek philosopher, his

theory of the globe's sphericity, 106 ; on

the mole's want of sight, 267.
Articulata, the, number of the species of,

362, 363-
Arum, the, described, 161, 162 ; its root,

163 ; its alimentary properties, 163 ; its

various species, 164, 165.
Asterisms, origin of, 14.
Atmosphere, the, illumination of, 313.
Autumn, aspect of nature in, 366, 367.

BAILEY, P. J., the poet, quoted, 3.
Balfour, Professor J. H., quoted, 208 ; on

the diffusion of plants, 321-324.
Bearded pink. See SWEET WILLIAM.
Birds, number of the species of, 359, 360.
Black Hellebore, the, described, 168.
Boehm, M. Joseph, his theory of the rise

of sap, 136, 137.

Boletus, the, of the Romans, 334.
Boraginaceae, the, characteristics of, 239-

241.

422

INDEX.

Bosc, the French naturalist, his reference
to the alimentary properties of the Arum,
163 ; his career sketched, 163.

Boyle, Robert, on the contemplation of the
universe, 101, 102.

Bradley, the astronomer, his discovery of
the nutation of the earth, 12.

Browning, Mrs E. B., her poetry charac-
terised, 337 ; her " Aurora Leigh "
quoted, 337, 338.

Bug, the harvest, description of, 349-352.

Burton, of the "Anatomy of Melancholy,"
quoted, 240.

Buttercup, the, its bulbous roots, 166 ; its
stimulating properties, 167.

Byron, Lord, the poet, quoted, 101.

C^ESALPIN, the botanist, on the Solanum
nigrum, 86.

Callisto, the legend of, 9.

Calypso, the island of, referred to, 19.

Calyx, the, of flowers, parts of, 211.

Campbell, Thomas, the poet, quoted, 236,
237-

Candolle, De, his opinions on the nature
of red snow, 41, 42.

Cardinal points of the compass, how to
ascertain our position in reference to
the, 7, 8; process of determination of
the, 17-19.

Carew, Thomas, the poet, quoted, too.

Carnations, characterised by Jeremy Tay-
lor and Drayton, 371; described, 372;
varieties of, 373.

Carnivora, the, distribution of, 358.

Cassini, Jacques, his theory of the earth's
form, in, 112.

Castle pink, the, described, 375, 376.

Castelnau, the Count of, quoted, 363, 364.

Cereals, the, range of, 323, 324.

Cetacea, the, distribution of, 358 ; de-
scribed, 208-215 ; curious forms of, 220-
223.

Chaldeans, the, their conception of the
earth's shape, 105.

Chamois, the, described, 56, 57.

Chaucer, the poet, his description of the
daisy quoted, 138, 140.

Cheese mite, the, where found, 354; its
ugly form, 355, 356.

Chomel, the botanist, on the medical pro-
perties of the daisy, 146, 147.

Chlorophyll, experiments in, 368, 369.
Chrysomela salicinia, the, described, 72.
Clare, John, the Northamptonshire poet,

on the dragon-fly, 175.
Clematis, the, described, 168; celebrated

by Keats, 168.
Columbus, Christopher, his demonstration

of the existence of the Antipodes, 108,

109.

Compass, the, points of, 7.
Constellations, table of the number of stars

in the northern, southern, and zodiacal,

27, 28.
Convallaria majalis. See LILY OF THE

VALLEY.

Convolvulus, the, described, 383, 384.
Copernicus, the astronomer, his theory of

the earth's rotundity, no; antiquity of

his so-called theory, 118, 119.
Cornwall, Barry, the poet, quoted, 229.
Corolla, the, of flowers, 214, 215, 223;

varieties of, 225-229.
Crabbe, George, the poet, quotation from,

288.
Cynodon dactylon, the, described, 91-93.

DAISY, the, described by Chaucer, 138,
140; by Cowper, 139; by James Mont-
gomery and William Browne, 140; its,,
vegetation, 140, 141; described, 142-145;
referred to by the ancients, 145 ; and by
the botanists of the Middle Ages, 146;
characterised by Wepfer, Tournefort,
and Garidel, 147 ; its medical properties,
146, 147; George Withers' tribute to,
148; celebrated by Wordsworth, 149,
150; by Shakespeare and Milton, 151,
152.

Darwin, Erasmus, the poet, on the pimper-
nel, 261.

David's Chariot, position of, 8, 9.

Day and night, varying length of, 198,199.

Delphos, the "navel of the world," 107.

Democritus, the philosopher, on the Milky
Way, 25.

Dent de Jaman, the, described, 257.

Desor, M., the Swiss naturalist, his dis-
covery of the snow-flea, 72, 73.

Desoria saltans, the, described, 73 ; glaci-
alis, description of, 74.

Dial, floral, referred to and exemplified,
217, 218.

INDEX.

423

Diodorus, the historian, quoted, 93, 94.

Dioscorides, the author of "Materia
Medica," his reference to Mercury's
plant, 81 ; on the Agrostis, 95.

Diurnal movement of the stars, origin of
its discovery, 16.

Dobell, Sydney, the poet, quoted, 129,
131-

Dogma, folly of, 292.

Dog Mercury, the, its power of propaga-
tion, 77, 78 ; described by Mr Sowerby,
78 ; how distinguished from weeds, 79 ;
its dioecious character, 80 ; mentioned
by Pliny the naturalist, 80, 81 ; and by
Dioscorides, 81; its disappearance before
the power of snow, 81.

Dog-star, the. See SIRIUS.

Dog's-tooth grass, the, characteristics
of, features of, described, 91-93; its
emollient properties, 96.

Draco, the constellation of, known to the
ancients, 22.

Dragon-fly, the, described by the poets,
174, 175 ; its destructive properties, 175 ;
the female, 182, 183 ; its metamorphosis,
183-187.

Drayton, Michael, the poet, his description
of a spring-time posy, 159-161 ; on car-
nations, 371.

Drummond, William, the poet, quoted,
399, 400.

Dutrochet, the philosopher, his theory of
the rise of sap, 136.

EAGLE, the, its affection for the moun-
tains, 57 ; its flight described, 58-62 ; its
nest, 62 ; the various species of, 62, 63.

Earth, the, shape of, as conceived by
Homer and Hesiod, 103, 104 ; by Se-
neca, 104 ; by the Chaldeans, Anaxi-
mander, Anaximenes, and Zenophanes,
105 ; by Plato, 105, 106 ; by Eudoxes
and Aristotle, 106 ; by the Greeks and
Hebrews, 107 ; a problem, 398, 399.

Earwig, the, form of, described, 278-280.

Edelwein, the, in the Alps, description of,
418.

FLAMMARION, M., on coloured stars, 414,

4i5-
Flos Adonis, the, legend connected with,

169.

Forficulae, the, group of, characteristics
of, 286.

Forget-me-not, the, celebrated by Camp-
bell the poet, 236, 237 ; described by
Miss Pratt, 238 ; analysis of its form.-
238, 239; legends connected with, 239,
240.

Friendship, the test of, 141.

Frigid zones, the, position of, 45, 46 ; the
lizards of, described, 70, 71.

GALILEO, his discoveries in gravitation,
no, in.

Ganges, the banks of, described, 248.

Garidel, the botanist, on the medical pro-
perties of the daisy, 147.

Garden-lily, the, described, 248.

Garden-nightshade, the, its extreme fer-
tility, 82 ; description of, 83 ; by Tour-
nefort, 84, 85, 89 ; its various forms, 85 ;
its medical properties, 85-87.

Genesis, the book of, quoted, 191.

Gentiana lutea, the, its medical proper-
ties, 254.

Gentiana campestris, described, 256, 257.

Gentianacese, the family of, its character-
istics described, 252-255 : a Lilliputian
specimen of, 255.

Gentians, the, of the Alps, description of,
10.

Gerard, the botanist, quoted, 418.

Gesner, Conrad, the botanist, on the tulip,
154-

Goethe, J. Wolfgang, the poet, quoted,
191.

Gold-crowned wren, the, description of,
64 ; its partiality to the society of other
birds, 64, 65 ; its gymnastic accomplish-
ments, 65 ; its cosmopolitan character,
65, 66 ; its smallness of size, 66.

Graetz's balls, origin of, stated, 55, 56.

Graminea?, the, general characteristics of,
88-90 ; how described by the naturalists
of the Middle Ages, 95, 96.

Gramen, the, Pliny the historian on, 94,
95-

Grasshopper, the, described by Leigh
Hunt, 274.

Great Bear, the, origin of the story of, 9,
10 ; Homer's reference to, 10.

Grew, the botanist, his theory of the rise
of sap, 124 ; on the calyx of flowers, 211.

424

INDEX.

HAY, aromatic, an instance of, 258.

Heat, the action of, described, 313-317.

Heavens, the, movement in, 115, 116.

Hebrews, the, their conception of the
earth's supports in space, 107.

Hedgerows, the, wild climbing plants of,
382, 383.

Hepatica, the, described, 168, 169.

Herbs, the food of the primitive Egyptians,
93, 94-

Hipparchus, the astronomer, his discovery
of the precession of the equinoxes, 116 ;
his astronomical researches, 291, 292.

Homer, the poet, his reference to the
Great Bear, 10, 19; and to Orion, 15;
his scientific knowledge, 19; his con-
ception of the earth's shape, 103, 104 ;
quoted, 210.

Honeycomb, the, of the bee, described,
85-

Honeysuckle, the, celebrated by Scott,
Burns, and Drayton, 380.

Hood, Thomas, the poet, quoted, 190.

Horace, the poet, quoted, 103.

House leek, the, in the Alps, described,
418.

Houston, Professor, his table of the dis-
tribution of wheat and barley, 324, 325.

Howitt, Mary, the poetess, on the dragon-
fly* 175-

Hugi, M., the Swiss naturalist, his dis-
covery of the Arctic vole, 49-51.

Humanity, the future of, 393.

Human power, limitation of, 394.

Hunt, Leigh, his poem on the grasshopper,
quoted, 274.

Huygens, the savant, his researches into
the laws of gravitation, in.

IMMORTALITY, an emblem of, in the meta-
morphosis of the caterpillar, 402, 403.

Infusoria, the, number of, 365.

Inglis, Henry, the traveller, quoted, 142.

Insects, the various orders of, enumerated,
280 ; the number of species of, 363,
364-

JONSON, Ben, the dramatist, quoted, 207,
248, 400.

KANE, Dr Elisha, the American explorer,
his Arctic experiences, 39.

Keats, the poet, quoted, 29, 168, 190, 244,

298.
Kepler, the astronomer, his adoption of

the theory of the earth's rotundity, no.

LACTANTIUS, on the non-existence of the
Antipodes, 108.

La Hire, the French botanist, his theory of
the rise of sap, 134.

Landscape, a wintry, described, 5.

Leaf-wasp, the, its mode of depositing its
larvse, 71, 72.

Le Monnier, the French astronomer, on
the theory of the nutation of the earth,
123.

Lesser celandine, the, celebrated by
Wordsworth, 166 ; described, 166.

Libellula cancellata, described, 177.

Libellula grandis, described, 178.

Libellulae, the family of, its characteristics,
174-183. See DRAGON-FLY.

Libelluiites, the family of, its general
characteristics, 179, 180.

Liberty, a plea for intellectual, 407.

Life, origin of, speculated upon, 390, 391.

Light, the nature of, 192, 193 ; physiologi-
cal facts concerning, 194-196 ; the theory
of, 197, 198 ; chemical action of, 312, 313.

Liliacese, the family of, its characteristics,
249, 250.

Lily of the field, the, of the Gospels, de-
scribed, 242, 243.

Lily of the valley, the, described by Shake-
speare, 242 ; its native countries, 242.

Little Bear, the, position of, n, 12; dis-
tinct from the Great Bear, 12 ; first recog-
nised by the Phoenicians, 20.

Little Vulcan, the, butterfly, described by
Agassiz, 71.

Longfellow, the poet, his description of
Orion, 13 ; quoted, 128, 129.

Lychnis, the, described, 418.

MACGILLIVRAY, the naturalist, quoted, 59,

60.

Macmillan, Rev. Hugh, quoted, 42—44.
Malpighi, the botanist, his theory of the

rise of sap, 135.

Mammalia, the, summarised, 360.
Manilius, the poet, his references to the

Great Bear, quoted, 20, 21.
Mant, Bishop, quoted, 63, 64.

INDEX.

425

Mariotte, the botanist, his theory of the
rise of sap, 135.

Marmot, the, described, 53 ; its habits, 53,
54 ; the various species of, 55.

Mars, the planet, referred to, 301, 302.

Marsupialia, the, distribution of, 358.

Martins, M., the naturalist, his examina-
tion and description of the Arctic vole,
5i, 52.

Marvell, Andrew, the poet, quoted, 217.

Matter, forms of living, 388, 389.

Mercurialis annua. See DOG MERCURY.

Metamorphosis, the function of, in nature,
401, 402.

Milton, his allusion to the daisy, quoted,

151* *52-

Mole, the, peculiar movements of, 265, 266 ;
described, 267 ; Aristotle and Pliny on
its want of sight, 267 ; its hands and
fingers, 268 ; its favourite haunts, 269 ;
marvellous properties ascribed to, 270,
271.

Mole-cricket, the, its form and habits de-
scribed, 273-278.

Mollusca, the, number of species of, 362.

Moon, influence of, on the weather, 30,
31-

Moore, Thomas, the poet, his characterisa-
tion of the dragon-fly, 174 ; his allusion
to the water-lily of the East, 246.

Mountain pink, the, described, 374, 375.

Mushroom, the, how to be distinguished,
327, 328 ; some varieties of, described,

329-337.

Mutability, the lesson of, 316.
Myosoiis palustris. See FORGET-ME-NOT.

NATURE, beauty and suggestiveness of,
339 ; our imperfect knowledge of, 341,
342 ; the infinite diversity of, 365.

Nebria escheri described, 72 ; chevrierii,
72.

Newman Mr, author of " History of
British Insects," quoted, 285.

Newton, Sir Isaac, his theories as to the
form of the earth, in, 112.

Miphar httea, the, described, 245.

Nutation of the earth, the, explained, 120,
121, 123 ; its discovery, 121, 122.

OBSERVER, the, of nature, 4, 5.
(Enothera biennis, described, 216, 218, 219.

Orion, the occultation of, its position in the
heavens, 14 ; its place in the old mytho-
logy, 15.

PACHYDERMATA, the, distribution of, 359.
Parry, Captain, on the nature of red snow,

41.

Perianth, the, of flowers, 208.
Perrault, the botanist, his theory of the

rise of sap, 135.
Petals, the, of flowers, described, 109, 224-

227.
Phoenicians, the, their knowledge of the

Great and Little Bears, 20, 21.
Physalis alkekengi, described, 222.
Pilgran, the meteorologist, his researches

into the nature of climate, 31.
Pimpernel, the, all about, 260-264.
Pinks, the various kinds of, described,

374-

Planets, the, whether inhabited, 395.

Plants, discovery of the sex of, 207; ap-
propriate to certain soils, 320, 321 ;
diffusion of, 321-325 ; classification of,

343-345-
Plato, the philosopher, his notion of the

form of the globe, 105, 106.
Pliny, the naturalist, on numbering the

stars, 25 ; his reference to red snow, 39 ;

and to the mercurialis, 80, 81 ; on the

gramen, 94, 95 ; his reference to the

daisy, 146 ; on the mole, 270, 271.
Plutarch, the historian, on the probability

of the existence of the antipodes, 108.
Podura plumbea, the, described, 74, 75.
Polar Star, the, its position in the heavens,

18.

Poles, day at the, 200, 201.
Polygala vulgaris, the, described, 213.
Pointers, constellation of the, referred to,

22.

Pratt, Miss, on the forget-me-not, 238.

Proctor, R. A., on solar phenomena, 410,
411.

Protococcus nivalis, the plant described,
42-44.

Prunella, the, or "self-heal," described,
230-233.

Ptolemseus, his enumeration of the con-
stellations, 24; his acquaintance with
the so-called Copernican theory, 119;
astronomical theories of, 297, 298.

426

INDEX.

Pythagoras, the philosopher, his familiar-
ity with the so-called Copernican theory,
119.

QUADRUMANA, the, distribution of, 357,
358.

RAMOND, the naturalist, his researches in
the natural history of red snow, 40,
41.

Ranunculacese, the, general character-
istics of, 166-169.

Ray, the botanist, on the daisy, 146.

Red-billed crow, the, its appearance de-
scribed, 68, 69 ; its habits, 69 ; the his-
tory of one which had been tamed, 69,
70.

Red snow, known to Pliny, the naturalist,
39 ; first described scientifically by De
Saussure, 39, 40 ; discovered by Ramond
in the Pyrenees, 40; by Captain Ross
in Baffin's Bay, 41 ; described by Sir
John Ross, 41 ; a fungus (?) 41.

Reptiles, the, distribution of, 361.

Rhizomes, or trailing roots, referred to, 88,
89.

Rhodius, Apollonius, the poet, quoted, 20.

Rodentia, the, distribution of, 358.

Rogers, the poet, quoted, 403.

Ruminantia, the, how distributed, 358.

SALAMANCA, the council of, referred to,

108.
Sap, the circulation of, 132 ; its ascent and

descent, 133 ; theories concerning the

rise of, 134-137.
Saussure, Benedict de, the naturalist, his

observations on red snow, 39, 40.
Science, unselfishness of, 76 ; the peculiar

characteristics of, 133.
Scutellariae, the, characteristics of, indi-
cated, 235, 236.

Seasons, the, changes of, 204, 205.
Seneca, the philosopher, his conception of

the earth's support in space, 104.
Shakespeare, his allusions to the daisy,

quoted, 150, 151 ; the lily described by,

242.

Shelley, the poet, quoted, 152.
Sirius, the star, its colour, 26 ; deleterious

influence ascribed to, by the Greeks, 23,

24-

Snow, the, preservation of the germ of
life in seeds and roots, 32 ; its composi-
tion, 32, 33 ; the reason of its preserva-
tive qualities, 34; in the form of crystals,
34 ; a reflector of light, 37 ; its utility to
the agriculturist, 37 ; in the polar re-
gions, 38, 39 ; red snow, which see.

Snow-bunting, the, description of, 66, 67;
its favourite localities, 67, 68.

Snow, perpetual, the line of, where situ-
ated, 47 ; its variations, 48.

Snow-flea, the, its discovery narrated, 72,
73 ; its generic characters, 74.

Soapwort, the, described, 378 ; its juice,
3?8, 379-

Soil, effect of temperature upon, 317;
cultivation of, 318-320 ; plants appro-
priate to different kinds of, 320, 321.

Solanum nigrum, the, described, 82-85.

Solar corona, the, nature of, 409-412.

Solar eclipse of 1870, the, considered,
407-412.

Solstices, the summer and winter, 45.

Somerville, Mrs, quoted, 289.

Sowerby, Mr, on the Mercuriaus annua,
78.

Species, number of vegetable, 339, 340,
347, 348 ; number of animal, 356.

Spencer, Edmund, the poet, quoted, 2.

Spring, the awakening of, described, 127-

I31-

Staphylium olens, described, 271-273.

Stars, the, their infinite number, 4 ; their
diurnal movement, 15-17 ; coloured, 412-
417.

Stellaria, the, characteristics of, enumer-
ated, 378.

Strickland, Miss, on the legend of the
forget-me-not, 240.

Struve, Otto, his computation of the num-
ber of the stars, 25, 26.

Sun, the, movements of, in the heavens,
292-296 ; length of its radius, 296, 297.

Sweetbriar, the, celebrated by Spenser,
Milton, Scott, and Drayton, 380; by
Shakespeare, 381.

TAYLOR, Jeremy, on carnations, 371.
Telescopes, importance of their invention

to science, 26.

Temperate zones, the, reference to, 45.
Temperature, effect of, on soil, 317.

INDEX.

427

Tennyson, Alfred, the poet, quoted, 6, 7,
57, 183, 247, 319.

Theophrastus, an ancient writer, on the
Agrostis, 95.

Thomson, James, the poet, quoted, 32,
100.

Thought, freedom of, asserted, 311 ; inde-
structibility of, 392.

Toaldo, the Italian meteorologist, his
researches into the phenomena of cli-
mate, 31.

Tournefort, the naturalist, his description
of the Solanum nigrum, 84, 85, 87 ;
quoted, 96, 234 ; on the medical proper-
ties of the daisy, 147.

Tragus, the botanist, his account of the
Solanum nigrum, 86.

Triticum repens, the, described, 93.

Tschudi, M., the naturalist, his description
of a red-billed crow, quoted, 69, 70.

Tulip, the, described, 152, 153 ; its intro-
duction into Europe, 153 ; its cultiva-
tion, 154, 155.

Twilight, phenomena of, 205.

VERTEBRATA, the, orders of, 362.
Vole, the Arctic. See ARCTIC VOLE.
Voltaire, Francois Arouet, his popularisa-
tion of the Newtonian philosophy, 713.

WALTON, Isaak, his eulogium on the
strawberry, 244.

Water, the crystallisation of, instanced and
described, 36, 37.

Water-lily, the, described by Keats and
Mrs Hemans, 244 ; by Wordsworth,
245 ; analysis of its form, 245 ; of the
East, described, 246.

Water-ranunculus, the, description of, 167.

Winters, instances of some severe, 29, 30.

Winter-time, appropriate for the observa-
tion of celestial phenomena, 3 ; the
passing away of, and merging into
spring, 96, 97.

Withering, the botanist, on the Solanum
nigrum, 86.

Withers, George, the poet, his tribute to
the daisy, quoted, 148.

Wood-louse, the, its characteristics enu-
merated, 169-172 ; another species of,
i?3-

Wordsworth, William, the poet, his cele-
bration of the daisy, quoted, 149, 150 ,
his poem on the lesser celandine, 1661
his reference to the lily of the valley,
245 ; quoted, 375.

Wren, the, described by Bishop Mant, 63,
64 ; its habits stated, 64.

YELLOW WATER-LILY, the, description of,
245-

ZODIAC, the, constellations of, 114, 115.
Zootoca pyrrhogas tra, the, described, 70.

THE END.

Crown Sv0j Elegantly Bound in Cloth and Gold, Price 5^.,

THE CIRCLE OF THE YEAR;

OR,

Stefcfca of pater* m^ fitters of % %wzanx.

With Numerous Illustrations.
EDITED AND ENLAEGED BY W. H, DAVENPOET ADAMS,

AUTHOR OF " SWORD AND PEN," "BEFORE THE CONQUEST," ETC.

OPINION 8- OF THE PRESS.

BeU's Weekly Messenger.

"Its purpose is to tell both young and old, but especially the former,
how much of interest there is in everything connected with nature, its
resources and productions during the progress of the year, and how,
month after month, animals, insects, trees, shrubs, flowers, and even
weeds have their several functions to fill, and the manner of their doing
so. ... The illustrations, which are numerous, greatly increase the

value of the volume."

The Observer.

" The Circle of the Year is essentially a book for the country. The
townsman may indeed read it to profit, but it will assuredly raise within
him a hankering to be out in the fields, wandering along the green lanes
among the trailing hedge-flowers, or attempting to realize the curious fact
that a lily of the valley is first cousin to an asparagus."

The Berwick Warder.

" It is a healthy and vigorous work, which none can fail to profit from."

The Border Advertiser.

"The book is therefore really what it professes to be, a picture of the
seasons, and very beautiful and engaging, many of the pictures being
drawn in fine sympathy with the outward beauty, and in harmony with the
inward spirit lying not deeply under all God's beautiful works. The book
is laden with fine thoughts and pleasing observation, and is a handsome
and valuable volume for the young."

The Perth Advertiser.

"Mr Adams has done his work well. . . . We might liken him to the
master of a panorama, only his figures are of the sublimest order — such
as, the procession of the seasons on the earth, and the corresponding
procession of the constellations in the heavens."

Public Opinion.

" The Circle of the Year should be placed in the hands of all those who
are curious to know what beautiful secrets the silent operations of nature
disclose."

The News of the World.

" A book which leads to a contemplation of nature in its varying aspects,
is of unfailing interest and attraction ; and just such a book is the one be-
fore us. ... The book is a companion for all seasons of the year."

The Aberdeen Free Press.
" The book will be found indeed a very pleasant and instructive one."

The Edinburgh Courant.

" Its aim is to teach the unscientific observer how to make use of his eye,
— ' how to look, and what to look at ; ' and to show him how much of
wonder and beauty lies everywhere around him, if he could only recog-
nise it."

The Scotsman.

" The Circle of the Year is a superior class of gift-book. ... It is a
loving and laborious exposition of a great variety of natural phenomena,
as they may be observed in the course of the year by the student of natural
history, written in such a pleasing style, and adorned with so many illustra-
tions, literary and familiar, that the thoughtful youth who once commences
its perusal, is certain to be carried by it through the whole cycle of the
seasons."

The Queen.

" The work is replete with interesting observation ; legends connected
with the subjects treated upon are introduced, and the pages are inter-
spersed with many excellent illustrations."

The Sunday Times.

"The book is charmingly got up in all respects, with good letterpress
and abundance of illustrations."

The Kelso Mail.

" In a number of daily walks, a vast amount of curious and instructive
information is imparted to the reader, who cannot leave these studies of
nature without being wiser, and perhaps better than he was before. The
illustrations are numerous and excellent, the typography beautiful, and the

binding elegant."

The Aberdeen Journal.

" The book is founded on a French work, Les Saisons, and the object of
author and editor is to teach the unscientific observer how to make use of
his eyes — how to look, and what to look at. The book is written in a
popular style, befitting its pretensions, and numerous woodcuts illustrate
the text, while poetry is freely used with effect."

Crown 8w, Elegantly Bound in Cloth and Gold, Price

SWORD AND PEN;

OR,

8 in

Profusely Illustrated.

BY W. H. DAVENPOBT ADAMS,

AUTHOR OF "CIRCLE OF THE YEAR," "BEFORE THE CONQUEST," ETC.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

The Morning Advertiser.

" The handsome and studious volume before us contains memo-
rials of the men who fought and wrote and meditated under
Elizabeth, that we owe the brightest glories of our literature, the
rise and permanence of our power, the world-wide expansion of our
commerce, and, as a consequence, our national wealth, which is
4 power.' "

The Dumfries Herald.

" The biographies of these men, compiled from the best sources,
are given in a lively and interesting style, and nothing, we fancy,
could be more welcome to the youthful readers, for whom the
volume is principally designed, than the gift of such a book."

The Athenaeum.

"In the lives of Raleigh and Hawkins, Gilbert, Cavendish,
Drake, Philip Sydney, and Shakespeare, a portion of the heroism
and intellect of the Elizabethan period is here illustrated. . . . The

purpose is so good, and the work so honestly done, that we cannot
but warmly commend both. A more wholesome book for young
readers we have seldom seen. It is one, moreover, in which faded
memories may dip and be refreshed."

The Court Journal.

" The author has bestowed much care in the compilation of the
volume, the best sources of information only having been chosen."

The Inverness Courier.

"The whole breathes a healthy, manly, patriotic spirit, which
every one must wish to see fostered among the youth of this utili-
tarian age. The volume is beautifully printed and illustrated."

The London Scotsman.

*' In the plain but comparatively accurate record of the deeds of
these ' brave men of old ' which Mr Adams has furnished, there can
be no doubt that he has done much to add to the information of
his older and to stimulate the patriotism of his younger readers."

Post 8v0, Elegantly Bound, Price 6s.,

BEFORE THE CONQUEST;

OR

ies m iff* ®Itr (Sjnglfejjr |Jjeri0fr

BY W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS,

AUTHOR OF "THE CIRCLE OF THE YEAR," "SWORD AND PEN,"

" EVERYDAY OBJECTS," ETC.

With Illustrations by F. Barnard.
EDINBURGH: WILLIAM P. NIMMO.

A SELECTION FROM CATALOGUE

OF

plsr atrfo Stanbarir

PUBLISHED BY

WILLIAM P. HIMMO, EDnBUE&H.

*„* Complete Catalogue of Mr. NIMMO'S Publications, choicely printed
aud elegantly bound, suitable for the Library, Presentation, and School
Prizes, etc. etc., will be forwarded gratis, post free, on application.

i

' Mr. Nimmo's books are well known as marvels of cheapness,
elegance, and sterling worth.1 — OBSERVER.

NIMMO'S POPULAR EDITION

OF

THE WORKS OF THE POETS.

In fcap. 8vo, printed on toned paper, elegantly bound in cloth extra, with
beautifully illuminated imitation ivory tablet on side, price 3s. 6d. ; also kept
in cloth extra, gilt edgea, without tablet; also in full calf, gilt edges, full gilt
back; in fine morocco, plain, price 7s. 6d. Each Volume contains a
Memoir, and is illustrated with a Portrait of the Author engraved on Steel,
and numerous full-page Illustrations on Wood, from designs by eminent
Artists; also beautiful Illuminated Title-page.

1. LONGFELLOW'S POETICAL WORKS.

2. SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS.

3. BYRON'S POETICAL WORKS.

4. MOORE'S POETICAL WORKS.

5. WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS.

[Continued on ttcxt pane,

2 Books published by William P. Nimmo,

NIMMO'S POPULAR EDITION OF THE
WORKS OF THE POETS,

CONTINUED.

6. COWPER'S POETICAL WORKS.

7. MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS.

8. THOMSON'S POETICAL WORKS.

9. GOLDSMITH'S CHOICE WORKS.

10. POPE'S POETICAL WORKS.

11. BURNS' POETICAL WORKS.

12. THE CASQUET OF GEMS. Choice Selections

from the Poets.

13. THE BOOK OF HUMOROUS POETRY.

14. BALLADS : Scottish and English.

15. BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS AND

HOLY WAR.

16. LIVES OF THE BRITISH POETS.

17. THE PROSE WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS.

18. POEMS, SONGS, AND BALLADS OF THE

SEA.

V This Series of Books, from the very superior manner in which
it is produced, is at once the cheapest and handsomest edition of the
Poets in the market. The volumes form elegant and appropriate Pre-
sents as School Prizes and Gift-Books, either in cloth or morocco.

' They are a marvel of cheapness, some of the volumes extending to as many as
700, and even 900, pages, printed on toned paper in a beautifully clear type. Add
to this, that they are profusely Illustrated with wood engravings, are elegantly
and tastefully bound, and that they are published at 3s. 6d. each, and our recom-
mendation of them is complete.'— Scotsman.

London and Edinburgh.

NIMMO'S SELECT LIBRARY.

New Series of Choice Books, beautifully printed on superfine paper, pro-
fusely Illustrated with original Engravings by the first Artists, and
elegantly bound in cloth extra, plain edges, price 3*. 6d. each, or richly
bound in cloth and gold, and gilt edges, price 5s. each.

THIRD EDITION.

z. Almost Faultless : A Story of the Present Day, By the

Author of ' A Book for Governesses.'

1 The author has written a capital story in a high moral tone.' — The
Court Journal.

SECOND EDITION.

2. Lives of Old English Worthies before the Conquest,

By W. H. DAVENPORT AAAMS.

' The author's aim is to illuminate, what may be regarded as obscure,
certain periods of historic England, accompanied with biographical
sketches.' — Courant.

SECOND EDITION.

3. Every-Day Objects ; or, Picturesque Aspects of Natural

History. By W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS.
FIFTH EDITION.

4. My Schoolboy Friends : A Story of Whitminster Grammar

School. By ASCOTT B. HOPE, Author of 'A Book about Domi-
nies,' ' Stories of School Life,' etc.

4 This is a most interesting book. Boys, for whom it is especially
written, will thoroughly enjoy it.' — Westminster Review.

SECOND EDITION.

5. Drifted and Sifted: A Domestic Chronicle of the Seven-

teenth Century.

'The author of this interesting, and we may add pathetic, story
appears to possess the art of reproducing bygone times with much
ability.'— The Record.

6. Warrior, Priest, and Statesman ; or, English Heroes in the

Thirteenth Century. By W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS.

7. Totty Testudo. The Life and Wonderful Adventures of

Totty Testudo. An Autobiography by FLORA F. WTLDK.
4 The book is of engrossing interest, and the reader will be astonished,
as he lays it down, to find that he has been able to get so much
entertainment and instruction from the personal adventures of a
tortoise.' — Inverness Courier.

8. On Holy Ground ; or, Scenes and Incidents in the Land

of Promise. By EDWIN HODDER, Author of ' Memories of New
Zealand Life,' ' The Junior Clerk,' etc.

Books published by William P. Nimmo,

NIMMO'S CROWN GIFT BOOKS.

Crown Svo, beautifully printed on superfine paper, profusely Illustrated
by eminent Artists, in doth extra, plain edges, price 3s. 6d. each, or
richly bound in cloth and gold, and gilt edges, price 5s. each.

THIRD EDITION.

1. Sword and Pen ; or, English Worthies in the Reign of

Elizabeth. By W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS.

1 A more wholesome book for young readers we have seldom seen.'—
The Athenseum.

SECOND EDITION.

2. Norrie Seton ; or, Driven to Sea, By Mrs, George Oupples,

Author of ' Unexpected Pleasures,' etc.

' Mrs. Cupples has given to the boys in this volume just the sort of
sea-story with which they will be delighted.' — The Scotsman.

SECOND EDITION.

3. The Circle of the Year; or, Studies of Nature and

Pictures of the Seasons. By W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS.

' Its purpose is to tell both young and old, but especially the former,
how much of interest there is in everything connected with Nature.' —
Bell's Messenger.

SECOND EDITION.

4. The Wealth of Nature : Our Food Supplies from the

Vegetable Kingdom. By the Rev. JOHN MONTGOMERY, A.M.
' It would be difficult to put into the hands of any boy or girl a
volume which more equally combines the instructive and interesting
in literature.'— JV. B. Mail.

FIFTH EDITION.

5. Stories of School Life, By Ascott B, Hope,

6. Stories of Trench School Life, By Ascott E, Hope,

' We were among the many who greatly admired Mr. Hope's "Stories
of SchooL Life "and "-Stories about Boys," and when we found that
he had undertaken to illustrate French school life, we gladly opened
the volume. The stories are interesting in the highest degree ; they
appeal to the best sympathies of the lads for whom they are written.
They set forth the right and the true against the false, and they are
full of good, hearty humour.' — Public Opinion.

London and Edinburgh.

NIMMO'S UNIVERSAL GIFT BOOKS.

A Series of excellent Works, profusely Illustrated with original Engravings
by the fi<-st Artists, choicely printed on superfine paper, and elegantly
bound in cloth and gold, and gilt edges, crown 8vo, price Bs. 6d. each.

1. Tales of Old English Life ; or, Pictures of the Periods,

By WILLIAM FRANCIS COLLIER, LL.D., Author of ' History of
English Literature,' etc.

2. Mungo Park's Life and Travels, "With a Supplementary

Chapter, detailing the results of recent Discovery in Africa.

3. Benjamin Franklin : A Biography, Prom the celebrated

'Life' by JARED SPARKS, and the more recent and extensive
' Life and Times' by JAMES PARTON.

4. "Wallace, the Hero of Scotland: A Biography, By

JAMES PATERSON.

5. Men of History. By Eminent Writers,

6. Women of History, By Eminent Writers,

7. Old-World Worthies ; or, Classical Biography, Selected

from PLUTARCH'S LIVES.

8. Epoch Men, and the Results of their Lives, By Samuel

NEIL.

9. The Mirror of Character, Selected from the Writings

of OVERBURT, EARLE, and BUTLEB.

10. Wisdom, Wit, and Allegory, Selected from ' The Spec-

tator.'

11. The Spanish Inquisition: Its Heroes and Martyrs, By

JANET GORDON, Author of ' Champions of the Reformation,'
etc.

12. The Improvement of the Mind, By Isaac Watts, D,D.

13. The Man of Business considered in Six Aspects, A

Book for Young Men.

%* This elegant and useful Series of Books has been specially
prepared for School and College Prizes: they are, however, equally
suitable for General Presentation. In selecting the works for this
Series, the aim of the Publisher has been to produce books of a perma-
nent value, interesting in manner and instructive in matter — books that
youth will read eagerly and with profit, and which will be found equally
attractive in after-life.

6 Books published by William P. Nimmo,
NIMMO'S ALL T HEJ^EAR^IROU N D GIFT BOOKS.

A series of entertaining and instructive volumes, profusely Illustrated
with original Engravings by the first Artists, choicely printed on superfine
paper, and elegantly bound in cloth and gold, and gilt edges, crown 8vo,
price 3s. 6d. each.

1. Christian Osborne's Friends, By Mrs, Harriet Miller

DAVIDSON, Author of ' Isobel Jardine's History,' and Daughter
of the late Hugh Miller.

2. Bound the Grange Farm ; or, Good Old Times, By

JEAN L. WATSON, Author of ' Bygone Days in our Village,' etc.

3. Stories about Boys, By Ascott R. Hope, Author of

'Stories of School Life,' 'My Schoolboy Friends,' etc. etc.

4. George's Enemies : A Sequel to ' My Schoolboy

Friends.' By ASCOTT B. HOPE, Author of 'Stories about
Boys,' etc. etc.

5. Violet Rivers; or, Loyal to Duty. A Tale for Girls,

By WINIFRED TAYLOR, Author of ' Story of Two Lives,' etc.

6. Wild Animals and Birds : Ourious and Instructive Stories

about their Habits and Sagacity. With numerous Illustrations.

7. The Twins of Saint-Marcel: A Tale of Paris Incendie,

By Mrs. A. 8. ORR, Author of ' The Koseville Family,' etc. etc.

8. Rupert Rochester, the Banker's Son. A Tale, By

WINIFRED TAYLOR, Author of ' Story of Two Lives,' etc.

9. The Story of Two Lives ; or, The Trials of Wealth and

Poverty. By WINIFRED TAYLOR, Author of ' Rupert Roches-
ter,' etc.

10. The Lost Father ; or, Cecilia's Triumph. A Story of

our own Day. By DARYL HOLME.

11. Friendly Fairies ; or, Once upon a Time,

12. The Young Mountaineer ; or, Frank Miller's Lot in Life,

The Story of a Swiss Boy. By DARYL HOLME.

13. Stories from over the Sea, With Illustrations,

14. The Story of a Noble Life ; or, Zurich and its Reformer

Ulric Zwingle. By Mrs. HARDY (JANET GORDON), Author of
' The Spanish Inquisition,' ' Champions of the Reformation,'
etc. etc.

15. Stories of Whitminster, By Ascott R. Hope, Author of

'My Schoolboy Friends,' 'Stories about Boys,' etc. etc.

%* The object steadily kept in view in preparing the above series
has been to give a collection of works of a thoroughly healthy moral
tone, agreeably blending entertainment and instruction. It is believed
this end has been attained, and that the several volumes will be found
eminently suitable as Gift Books and School Prizes, besides proving of
permanent value in the Home Library.

London and Edinburgh.

NIMMO'S HALF-GROWN REWARD BOOKS.

Extra foolscap 8vo, cloth elegant, gilt edges, Illustrated,
price 2s. 6d. each.

1. Memorable Wars of Scotland, By Patrick Fraser Tytler,

F.R.S.E., Author of ' The History of Scotland,' etc.

2. Seeing the World : A Young Sailor's own Story, By

CHARLES NORDHOFF, Author of ' The Young Man-of-War's-
Man.'

3. The Martyr Missionary: Five Years in China, By

Rev. OHABLES P. BUSH, M.A.

4. My New Home : A Woman's Diary,

5. Home Heroines! Tales for Girls, By T, S, Arthur,

Author of 'Life's Crosses,' etc.

6. Lessons from Women's Lives. By Sarah J, Hale,

7. The Roseville Family, A Historical Tale of the

Eighteenth Century. By Mrs. A. 8. ORB, Author of 4 Mountain
Patriots,' etc.

8. Leah, A Tale of Ancient Palestine. Illustrative of

the Story of Naaman the Syrian. By Mrs. A. S. ORB.

9. Champions of the Reformation : The Stories of their

Lives. By JANET GORDON.

10. The History of Two Wanderers ; or, Oast Adrift,

11. Seattle's Poetical Works,

12. The Vicar of Wakefield, By Oliver Goldsmith.

13. Edgar Allan Poe's Poetical Works,

14. The Miner's Son, and Margaret Vernon, By M, M,

POLLARD, Author of ' The Minister's Daughter,' etc. etc.

15. How Frank began to Climb the Ladder, and the Friends

who lent him a hand. By CHARLES BRUCE, Author of ' Lame
Felix,' etc.

1 6. Conrad and Columbine, A Fairy Tale, By James

MASON.

17. Aunt Ann's Stories. Edited by Louisa Loughborough,

1 8. The Snow- Sweepers' Party, and the Tale of Old Tubbins,

By R. ST. JOHN CORBET, Author of 'Mince Pie Island,' etc. etc.

19. The Story of Elise Marcel, A Tale for Girls,

8 Books published by William P. Nimmo,
N I M MO'S

Foolscap 800, Illustrated, elegantly bound in cloth extra, levelled boards,
gilt back and side, gilt edges, price 2s. each.

1. The Far North : Explorations in the Arctic Regions. By

ELISHA KENT KANE, M.D.

2. Great Men of European History. From the Beginning of

the Christian Era till the Present Time. By DAVID PRTDE, M.A.

3. The Young Men of the Bible. A Series of Papers, Bio-

graphical and Suggestive. By Rev. JOSEPH A. COLLIER.

4. The Blade and the Ear : A Book for Young Men.

5. Monarchs of Ocean : Columbus and Cook.

6. Life's Crosses, and How to Meet them. By T. S. Arthur.

7. A Father's Legacy to his Daughters, etc. A Book for Young

Women. By Dr. GREGORY.

8. Mountain Patriots. A Tale of the Reformation in Savoy.

By Mrs. A. S. ORR.

9. Labours of Love : A Tale for the Young. By Winifred Taylor.

10. Mossdale : A Tale for the Young. By Anna M. De longh.

11. The Standard-Bearer. A Tale of the Times of Constantino

the Great. By ELLEN PALMER.

12. Jacqueline. A Story of the Reformation in Holland. By

Mrs. HARDY (JANET GORDON).

N IM MO'S

mttr

Foolscap 8vo, Illustrated, elegantly bound in cloth extra, bevelled
boards, gilt back and side, gilt edges, price 2s. each.

1. Lame Felix. A Book for Boys. By Charles Bruce.

2. Picture Lessons by the Divine Teacher; or, lUustrations of

the Parables of our Lord. By PETER GRANT, D.D.

3. Nonna : A Story of the Days of Julian .the Apostate. By Ellen

PALMER.

4. Philip Walton ; or, Light at Last. By the Author of ' Meta

Frantz,' etc.

5. The Minister's Daughter, and Old Anthony's Will. Tales for

the Young. By M. M. POLLARD, Author of The Miner's Son,' etc. etc.

6. The Two Sisters. By M. M. Pollard.

7. A Needle and Thread : A Tale for Girls. By Emma J. Barnes,

Author of 'Faithful and True, or the Mother's Legacy.'

8. Taken Up : A Tale for Boys and Girls. By A. Whymper.

9. An Earl's Daughter. By M. M. Pollard.

10. Life at Hartwell ; or, Frank and his Friends. By Katharine

E. MAY, Author of ' Alfred and his Mother,' etc. etc.

11. Stories Told in a Fisherman's Cottage. By Ellen Palmer,

Author of 'Nonna,' 'The Standard-Bearer,' etc. etc.

12. Max Wild, the Merchant's Son ; and other Stories for the

Young.

London and Edinburgh.

N IM M O'S

Foolscap 8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, Illustrated, price Is. 6d. each.

1. Bible Blessings. By Eev. Eichard Newton.

2. One Hour a Week : Fifty-two Bible Lessons for the Young.

3. The Best Things. By Eev. Eichard Newton.

4. The Story of John Heywood : A Tale of the Time of Harry

viii. By CHARLES BRUCE, Author of ' How Frank began to Climb,1 etc.

5. Lessons from Rose Hill ; and Little Nannette.

6. Great and Good Women : Biographies for Girls. By

LYDIA H. SIGOURNET.

7. At Home and Abroad; or, Uncle William's Adventures.

8. Alfred and his Mother ; or, Seeking the Kingdom. By

KATHARINE E. MAT.

9. Asriel ; or, The Crystal Cup. By Mrs. Henderson.

10. The Kind Governess; or, How to make Home Happy.

11. Percy and Ida. By Katharine E. May.

12. Three Wet Sundays with the Book of Joshua. By EUen

PALMER, Author of 'Christmas at the Beacon,' etc. etc.

13. The Fishermen of Galilee ; or, Sunday Talks with Papa. By

ELLEN PALMER.

NIMMO'S

Smttmjy mttr IS^h-gajr JjLetoarir §00hs»

Foolscap 8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, Illustrated, price Is. 6d. each.

1. The Sculptor of Bruges. By Mrs. W. G. Hall.

2. From Cottage to Castle; or, Faithful in Little. A Tale

founded on Fact. By M. H., Author of 'The Red Velvet Bible,' etc.

3. Christmas at the Beacon. By Ellen Palmer.

4. The Sea and the Savages: A Story of Adventure. By

HAROLD LINCOLN.

5. The Swedish Singer ; or, The Story of Vanda Eosendahl.

By Mrs. W. G. HALL.

6. My Beautiful Home; or, Lily's Search. By Chas. Bruce.

7. The Story of a Moss Eose ; or, Euth and the Orphan

Family. By CHARLES BRUCE.

8. Summer Holidays at Silversea. By E. Eosalie Salmon.

9. Fred Graham's Eesolve. By the Author of ' Mat and Sofie.'

10. Wilton School; or, Harry Campbell's Eevenge. A Tale.

By F. E. WEATHERLY.

11. Grace Harvey and her Cousins.

12. Blind Mercy; and other Tales. By Gertrude Crockford.

13. Evan Lindsay. By Margaret Fraser Tytler, Author of ' Tales

of Good and Great Kings,' * Tales of the Great and Brave,' etc.

io Books published by William P. Nimmo,

Nimmo's One Shilling Favourite Reward Books,

Demy 18mo, Illustrated, cloth extra, price Is. each; also in gilt side and edges,
price Is. 6d. each.

1. The Vicar of Wakefleld.

Poems and Essays. By OLIVER
GOLDSMITH.

2. JEsop's Fables, with In-

structive Applications. By Dr.
CROXALL.

3. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Pro-

gress.

4. The Young Man-of-War's-

Man : A Boy's Voyage round the
World. By CHARLES NORDHOFF.

5. The Treasury of Anecdote :

Moral and Religious.

6. The Boy's Own Workshop;

or, The Young Carpenters. By
JACOB ABBOTT.

7. The Life and Adventures of

Robinson Crusoe.

8. The History of Sandford

and Merton. A Moral and In-
structive Lesson for Young
Persons.

9. Evenings at Home ; or, The

Juvenile Budget Opened. Con-
sisting of a variety of Mis-
cellaneous Pieces for the
Instruction and Amusement of
Young Persons. By Dr. AIKIN
and Mrs. BARBAULD.

10. Unexpected Pleasures; or,

Left alone in the Holidays. By
Mrs. GEORGE CUPPLES, Author
of ' Norrie Seton,' etc.

11. The Beauties of Shakespeare.

With a General Index by the
Rev. WILLIAM DODD, LL.D.

12. Gems from ' The Spectator.'

A Selection from the most ad-
mired Writings of Addison and
Steele.

13. Burns' Poetical Works.

With a Complete Glossary.

14. The Sketch Book. ByWash-

INGTON IRVING.

%* The above Series of elegant and useful books is specially prepared for the
entertainment and instruction of young persons.

Impute J&digwm (lift |500Ji8

18mo, finely printed on toned paper, handsomely bound in cloth extra,
price Is. each.

1. Across the River: Twelve Views of Heaven. By Norman

MACLEOD, D.D.; R. W. HAMILTON, D.D.; ROBERT S. CANDLISH, D.D.;
JAMES HAMILTON, D.D. ; etc. etc.

2. Emblems of Jesus ; or, Illustrations of Emmanuel's Character

and Work.

3. Life Thoughts of Eminent Christians.

4. Comfort for the Desponding ; or, Words to Soothe and Cheer

Troubled Hearts.

5. The Chastening of Love: Words of Consolation for the

Christian Mourner. By JOSEPH PARKER, D.D., Manchester.

6. The Cedar Christian, and other Practical Papers; By the Rev.

THEODORE L. CUTLER.

7. Consolation for Christian Mothers Bereaved of Little Children.

By A FRIEND OF MOURNERS.

8. The Orphan; or, Words of Comfort for the Fatherless and

Motherless.

9. Gladdening Streams ; or, The Waters of the Sanctuary. A

Book for Fragments of Time on each Lord's Day of the Year.

10. Spirit of the Old Divines.

11. Choice Gleanings from Sacred Writers.

12. Direction in Prayer; or, The Lord's Prayer Illustrated in a

Series of Expositions. ByPETER GRANT, D.D.

13. Scripture Imagery. By Peter Grant, D.D., Author of ' Emblems

of Jesus,' etc,

London and Edinburgh. 1 1

NIMMO'S ONE SHILLING ILLUSTRATED
JUVENILE BOOKS.

Foolscap 8vo, Coloured Frontispieces, handsomely bound in cloth,
Illuminated, price Is. each.

1. Pour Little People and their Friends.

2. Elizabeth; or, The Exiles of Siberia. A Tale

from the French of Madame COTTIN.

3. Paul and Virginia. Prom the French of

BERNARDIN SAINT-PIERRE.

4. Little Threads : Tangle Thread, Golden

Thread, and Silver Thread.

5. Benjamin Franklin, the Printer Boy.

6. Barton Todd, and The Young Lawyer.

7. The Perils of Greatness : The Story of Alex-

ander Menzikoff.

8. Little Crowns, and How to Win them. By

Eev. JOSEPH A. COLLIER.

9- Great Riches : Nelly Rivers' Story. By Aunt
FAWNY.

10. The Right Way, and The Contrast.

11. The Daisy's First Winter. And other Stories.

By HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

12. The Man of the Mountain. And other

Stories.

13. Better than Rubies. Stories for the Young,

Illustrative of Familiar Proverbs. With 62 Illustrations.

[Continued on next page.

1 2 Books published by William P. Nimmo,

NIMMO'S ONE SHILLING ILLUSTRATED
JUVENILE BOOKS,

CONTINUED.

14- Experience Teaches. And other Stories for

the Young, Illustrative of Familiar Proverbs. With 39 Illus-
trations.

15- The Happy Recovery. And other Stories for

the Young. With 26 Illustrations.

16. Gratitude and Probity. And other Stories

for the Young. With 21 Illustrations.

17. The Two Brothers. And other Stories for

the Young. With 13 Illustrations.

1 8. The Young Orator. And other Stories for

the Young. With 9 Illustrations.

19- Simple Stories to Amuse and Instruct Young

Readers. With lUustrations.

20. The Three Friends. And other Stories for

the Young. With lUustrations.

21. Sybil's Sacrifice. And other Stories for the

Young. With 12 Illustrations.

22. The Old Shepherd. And other Stories for the

Young. With Illustrations.

23. The Young Officer. And other Stories for the

Young. With Illustrations.

24. The False Heir. And other Stories for the

Young. With Illustrations.

25. The Old Farmhouse; or, Alice Morton's

Home. And other Stories. By M. M. POLLARD.

26. Twyford Hall; or, Rosa's Christmas Dinner,

and what she did with it. By CHARLES BRUCE.

27. The Discontented Weathercock. And other

Stories for Children. By M. JONES.

28. Out at Sea, and other Stories. By Two

Authors.

29. The Story of Waterloo; or, The Fall of

NAPOLEON.

30- Sister Jane's Little Stories. Edited by Louisa

LOUGHBOROUGH.

London and Edinburgh. 1 3

NIMMO'S

NINEPENNY SERIES FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.

In demy 18mo, with Illustrations, elegantly bound in cloth.

THIS Series of Books will be found unequalled for genuine interest and
value, and it is believed they will be eagerly welcomed by thoughtful
children of both sexes. Parents may rest assured that each Volume
teaches some noble lesson, or enforces some valuable truth.

1. In the Brave Days of Old ; or, The Story of the Spanish

Armada. For Boys and Girls.

2. The Lost Euby, By the Author of * The Basket of

Flowers, 'etc.

3. Leslie Boss ; or, Pond of a Lark, By Charles Bruce,

4. My First and Last Voyage, By Benjamin Clarke,

5. Little Katie : A Fairy Story, By Charles Bruce,

6. Being Afraid, And other Stories for the Young. By

CHARLES STUART.

7. The Toll-Keepers, And other Stories for the Young,

By BENJAMIN CLARKE.

8. Dick Barford : A Boy who would go down Hill, By

CHARLES BRUCE.

9. Joan of Arc ; or, The Story of a Noble Life. Written

for Girls.

to. Helen Siddal: A Story for Children, By Ellen Palmer,

11. Mat and Sofie: A Story for Boys and Girls.

12. Peace and War, By the Author of 'The Basket of

Flowers,' etc.

13. Perilous Adventures of a French Soldier in Algeria,

14. The Magic Glass ; or, The Secret of Happiness,

15. Hawks* Dene : A Tale for Children. By Katharine E,

MAT.

1 6. Little Maggie, And other Stories. By the Author of

1 The Joy of Well-Doing,' etc. etc.

17. The Brother's Legacy ; or, Better than Gold. By

M. M. POLLARD.

1 8. The Little Sisters ; or, Jealousy, And other Stories for

the Young. By the Author of ' Little Tales for Tiny Tots,' etc.

19. Kate's New Home. By Cecil Scott, Author of ' Ohryssie

Lyle,' etc.

14 Books published by William P . Nimmo,

NEW WORKS.
NEW EDITION OF THE EDINA BURNS.

In crown 4to, price 12s. 6d., elegantly bound in cloth, extra gilt
and gilt edges, also in Turkey morocco antique, very handsome,
42s., the popular Drawing-room Edition of the

Poems and Songs by Robert Burns. With Illus-
trations by E. HERDMAN, WALLER H. PATON, SAM. BOTJGH,
GOURLAY STEELL, D. 0. HILL, J. M'WHIRTER, and other
eminent Scottish Artists.

Fourth Edition. Eleventh Thousand.

In demy 8vo, cloth elegant, richly gilt, price 7s. 6d. , or in Turkey
morocco antique, 21s.,

Things a Lady would Like to Know, concerning

Domestic Management and Expenditure, arranged for Daily
Reference. By HENRY SOUTHGATE, Author of ' Many
Thoughts of Many Minds,' 'Noble Thoughts in Noble Lan-
guage,' ' Gone Before,' ' The Bridal Bouquet,' etc. etc.

Tenth Thousand.

In crown 8vo, beautifully bound in cloth extra, full of Engravings
and Coloured Pictures, price 3s. 6d., or gilt edges price 4s.,

Three Hundred Bible Stories and Three Hundred

Bible Pictures. A Pictorial Sunday Book for the Young.

The Excelsior Edition of Shakespeare's Complete Works.

In large demy 8vo, with Steel Portrait and Vignette, handsomely
bound, price 5s.,

Shakespeare's Complete Works. With a Bio-
graphical Sketch by MARY COATDEX CLARKE, a Copious
Glossary, and numerous Illustrations.

The Excelsior Edition of Whiston's Josephus.

In large demy 8vo, with Steel Portrait and Vignette, handsomely
bound, price 5s.,

The Whole Works of Flavius Josephus, the Jewish

Historian. "With Life, Portrait, Notes, Index, etc.

London and Edinburgh. 15

THE

WAV ERLEY NOVELS.

ENTIRELY NEW EDITION.

Crown 8vo, with Frontispiece and Vignette, in elegant wrapper printed in
colours, price Is. each. Also, in Twenty-six volumes, cloth extra, full
gilt back, price 2s. per volume ; and in Thirteen double volumes, rox-
burgh style, gilt top, price Bs. 6d. per volume.

Edited by the Eev. P. HATELT WADDELL, LL.D. With Notes,
Biographical and Critical, and a Glossary of Scotch Words and Foreign
Phrases for each Novel.

1. Waverley; or, "Tis Sixty Years Since.'

2. Guy Mannering ; or, The Astrologer.

3. The Antiquary.

4. Rob Roy.

5. Old Mortality.

6. The Black Dwarf, and A Legend of Montrose.

7. The Bride of Lammermoor.

8. The Heart of Mid-Lothian.

9. Ivanhoe : A Romance.

10. The Monastery.

11. The Abbot : A Sequel.

12. Kenilworth.

13. The Pirate.

14. The Fortunes of Nigel.

15. Peveril of the Peak.

16. Quentin Durward.

17. St. Ronan's Well.

18. Redgauntlet.

19. The Betrothed.

20. The Talisman : A Tale of the Crusaders.

21. Woodstock; or, The Cavalier.

22. The Fair Maid of Perth ; or, St. Valentine's Day.

23. Anne of Geierstein ; or, The Maiden of the Mist.

24. Count Robert of Paris.

25. The Surgeon's Daughter, and Castle Dangerous.

26. The Highland Widow, and my Aunt Margaret's Mirror.

With an interesting summarised account of the Scott
Centenary.

The above may also be had in substantial half-calf bindings.

1 6 Books published by William P. Nimmo.

NIMMO'S NATIONAL LIBRARY.

Just ready, in crown 8vo, with Steel Frontispiece and Vignette,
handsomely bound, cloth extra, price 5s. each ; also in full gilt
side, back, and edges, price 6s. each.

Seventh Thousand.

The English Circumnavigators: The most re-
markable Voyages round the World by English Sailors.
(Drake, Dampier, Anson, and. Cook's Voyages.) With a
Preliminary Sketch of their Lives and Discoveries. Edited,
with Notes, Maps, etc., by DAVID LAING PURVES and
R. COCHRANE. ____^__

The Book of Adventure and Peril. A Record of

Heroism and Endurance on Sea and Land. Compiled and
Edited by CHARLES BRUCE, Editor of ' Sea Songs and Ballads,'
' The Birthday Book of Proverbs,' etc.

The Great Triumphs of Great Men. Edited by

JAMES MASON. Illustrated.

Great Historical Mutinies, comprising the Story

of the Mutiny of the ' Bounty,' the Mutiny at Spithead and
the Nore, the Mutinies of the Highland Regiments, and the
Indian Mutiny, etc. Edited by DAVID HERBERT, M.A.

Famous Historical Scenes from Three Centuries.

Pictures of celebrated events from the Reformation to the end
of the French Revolution. Selected from the works of Standard
Authors by A. R. HOPE MONCRIEFF.

The English Explorers ; comprising details of the

more famous Travels by Mandeville, Bruce, Park, and Living-
stone. With Map of Africa and Chapter on Arctic Exploration.

The Book for Every Day; containing an In-
exhaustible Store of Amusing and Instructive Articles. Edited
by JAMES MASON.

The Book of Noble Englishwomen : Lives made

Illustrious by Heroism, Goodness, and Great Attainments.
Edited by CHARLES BRUCE.

A Hundred Wonders of the World in Nature and

Art, described according to the latest Authorities, and profusely
Illustrated. Edited by JOHN SMALL, M. A.
Other Popular and Standard Volumes in preparation.

14 DAY USE

RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED

This book is due on the last date stamped below, or

on the date to which renewed.
Rene-wed books are subject to immediate recall.

LD 21-50m-12,'61
(C4796slO)476

General Library

University of California

Berkeley