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C/5 6,84

PROCEEDINGS

OF THE

LITERARY & PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY

OF

LIVERPOOL,

DURING THE

FORTY-SIXTH SESSION, 1856—57.

No. XI.

LIVERPOOL:
PRINTED FOR THE MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY,
BY HENRY GREENWOOD, 32, CASTLE STREET.

1857.

OS I rik ‘ rr

ee k

CONTENTS.

Taist of Members—Ordinary ...........ccsosseseccecseecccnsseceenecenensserseseecenees 5
Corresponding. .......cesecerccenseccesecneeseeseeseesceuanser scenes 9
Annual Meeting—Report ......000 ccsssesecccesseee sneecceetenseeeesessnseseseneanees 11
MB BlenmG er SCE tyeser sist sn slaceldbelcsienaaes(cesientisepinesisaviansiacteriatas 3
President’s Valedictory Address ......:..ceecssceesssaeerecscceseserecarer ees 14
Wea COURIC BECLOG! cctacces-caneceueccce ceartvusaeceesenige’eserctssas sstelcosines 17
Extraordinary Meeting—(Order of Business)..........::seecee coeseneeeeeceeeeeees 17
RIGEONG MESHING s....ccccsserscavseserscscceecouscenasnseracssesingsseecnsiescecessaterssnsee 17
President’s Inaugural Address *...........eccscesceeserseneesserteenceunenceee 18
Mr. Brooke’s Battle of Bosworth Field ...........0sssssscesesresesseerence 30
Extraordinary Meeting—(Reporting Business) .........sseseeeeeeeeeeeseeeereeeees 45
Mind Meeting ........0.ccs-s-coensseacersesserccenncsesseenceansccoscencecevscsenssre cesses 45
Dr. Thne’s “In Archytam ” ......:.csscecesesenecencaseeeseeversecensseecesens 46
Rey. H. H. Higgins, on Speerobulus Stellatus 0.0... see seeseeeeneee 51
Fourth Meeting .....csssssseseceecceeenae ceeceeeneeessececeaassesseeseseaseeesessaeeneees 52
Fifth (2 CEE EER aa Re Fierro Rr Ne oe 52
Mr. Brooke, on the Period of Extinction of Wolves in England ... 53
Sixth Meeting ............-c0sseccssssssccossecnnccesenssveeeensee eooseeronenscesaneser ere 63
Mr. Archer, on the Lepuminose ..........02.csccrsseescsnseasccncserersecsns 64
Seventh Meeting ...........ssercssceeseresesnsccessnccesssseesensccseeeaccesseecesceeensees 70
Address to William a IBIS SAMI tec wa,cco enswadseenawcatraceccnes ss dace 70
Mr. Samuelson, on Copper Ores... ....seecssss-censcnccescaveresscaccessecees 71
Highth Meeting .......ccsssseecccsssccenscececeeesceenneseeneeceeseneseeeeeesseeanesseues 76
Address tothe evel r Wet vIMOS ONES cree. ecuececcaancnesescceascaseieaseance 76
Vin) Liane eras Ml Dr syerai = epsone ggneooctin siebeic Obed acr GoSacOCnnoG) pe sBEnpOoeR Boe Or 76
Ninth Meeting: .............0é.cccccsccssscssssscosccrsecseeecccessenseneencee sonsceeeene ae 109
Gy) tle ep EUi eins ONMMUN Ne csaceecsnseestoess ecav senses chsensiccasadavatee 109
Mr. Brockholes—Entomological Ramble.............sc:sesseeseuseceeceenne 115
Tenth Meeting ..........sscecsssserecsssseeccnsescceassccesssccencscseeetsesecesenseesecaes 121
Letter from the Rev. Dr. Livingstone............csesscececeeeeeeeseneeenes 121

Mr. James Yates, on the Metrical Ton of 1000 Kilogrammes, in
Ship Measurement .......sssesseesseeee saeeeceeeesseesaeeeeassecessneeeses 122
Mr. T. Hutchinson, on Fernando Po..........ccssccesceete nce seesereeesenees 124
The Aboriginees ........:secccsccesnvecesecnncsaseceessencsenessesseeensces 125
Anglo-AfricamisMms .....cscsee cssecesseceeeeeseceseneeeeeeeeseeeeeneeeenens 127
MG venth Meeting:.....0:2.c0..ceoessceessenvertcnssscasrenencnaessnesee cinvseesecesssoenses 129

Drs. Nevins and Edwards, on the Liverpool Water and Lead »...... 129

CONTENTS. il.

Muvelfth Meeting .......ccsscscccnsncsocsscnesnecnaraseesessseseenerscencserorsceccarsers 132
Rev. H. H. Higgins, on Colour Patterns in Natural Productions... 133
Mr. Archer, on certain Vegetable Organisms im: Coal se. s.<teseepabaee 143
Autograph Letter of Lord Nelsom......+sssssesssersseretessseeeteeenaees . 144
Thirteenth Meeting.............:00--esesssenceresrernessesssesserstsenneceresceesenseetcs 145
Dr. Retslag, on Political Philosophers of the Sixteenth Century...... 146
Fourteenth Meeting ........0.sssesccsccssssssssesseesecancsnrensenseserccccranc cesses ces 147
Dr. Inman, on Volcanoes «.....cceceessrveseeseeeeerceeneneeecesserscsans sites 147
ADE DAHON E Meee e eee ce esse reay nat cae cawcete'ss oss dateloasaaeensins> en renen eli wmaseaodaaae 152
Vast Of Giife Meémbers......ccsceecccsecccscasccsecnscasccsocssscsoesnccocncasemeasasenssis 155

NB—The Authors only are responsible for their sentiments.

MEMBERS ON THE ROLL

AT THE LAST MEETING OF

ie Pies S1- ON XUV TT, 1856+57;
MAY i8tH, 1857.

CeO: VNC Tie: '

Tuomas InMAN, M.D., President.

WiLuiAM Tune, Pu.D., Senior Vice-President.
Rey. H. H. Hieers, M.A., Vice-President.
THOMAS CroxeEN ArcHER, Vice-President.
Isaac ByERLEY, M.R.C.S.E., F.L.S., Treasurer.
.Davip Purpie Tuomson, M.D., Hon. Secretary.
ALFRED Hia@qinson, M.R.CS.E.

J. B. Epwarps, Pu.D., F.C.S.

Rey. A. Ramsay, M.A.

EDWARD BRETHERTON, F.G.S.

RicHarD Brooke, F.S.A.

GEORGE HAMILTON, F.R.A.S., F.C.S.

Joun CUNNINGHAM, F.G.S.

JOSEPH CARTER REDISH.

Jamis THomas Foarp.

ORDINARY MEMBERS. in

1833 Aikin, James, Esq., 2, Drury-lane, and Gambier-terrace.

1851 Anderson, Robert Worrall, 23, Falkner-square.

1854 Andrew, John, 22, Fenwick-street, and Sandon-park, Wavertree.

1844 Archer, Francis, M.R.C.S.E., Corresp. Mem. Nat. Hist. SS. Boston
and Belfast, 49, Rodney-street.

1853 Archer, Thomas Croxen, Lecturer on Botany, Liverp. Sch. of Medicine,
H.M. Customs, Revenue-buildings, and St. Catherine-street, Higher
Tranmere.

1857 Aspinall, John Bridge, Barrister-at-Law, 1, South John-street, and 47,
Bedford-street South.

1854 Atkin, George, 58, Cable-street, and Rock Park, Rock Ferry.

B

6

1854 Bahr, George W., 4, Cable-street, and 5, South-hill Grove, Aigburth.

1834 Baines, Thomas, Oakfield, Little Woolton.

1851 Bean, William, H.M. Customs, Revenue-buildings, and 56, Berkeley-street.

1857 Bell, Christopher, Moor-street, 30, Goree, and 64, Bridge-street, Birkenhead.

1854 Bennett, William, Sir Thomas's Buildings, and 109, Shaw-street.

1856 Bird, William Valentine, M.D.Aberd., 2, Beaufort-terrace, Seacombe.

1848 Bishop, Rev. Francis, High Park-street.

1847 Bloxam, Frederick William, Alliance Bank, London.

1855 Bohtlingk, Alex., 9, Rumford-place, and 77, Kensington.

1834 Boult, Francis, Jun., 2, Rumford-place, and Devonshire-road, Claughton.

1835 Boult, Swinton, 37, Castle-street.

1854 Bretherton, Edward, F.G.8., 53, North John-street, and 47, Hamilton-
square, Birkenhead.

1852 Brewer, John, Barrister-at-Law, London.

1856 Brighouse, John Martin, 7, Everton-road.

1844 Bright, Samuel, Esq., 1, North John-street, and Sandheys, Mili-lane,
West Derby.

1856 Broadbent, William Henry, M.D.Edin., M.R.C.S.E., 31, Rodney-street.

1855 Brockholes, James Fitzherbert, 7, gerton-terrace, Cleveland-street,
Birkenhead.

1855 Brooke, Richard, F.S.A., 16, Cook-street, and 16, Canning-street.

1851 Brougham, James Rigg, Barrister-at-Law, Ree. Court of Bankr.,

. 20, South John-street, and 10, Dingle-view, Dingle-lane.

1857 Burton, Rey. Charles Henry, M.A.

1848 Byerley, Isaac, F.L.S., M.R.C.S.E., Myrtle Cottaye, Victoria-road,
Seacombe.

1848 Casey, George, 52, Naylor-street, and Elmnfield, Mere-lane, Walton.

1851 Clare, John Leigh, 11, Hxchange-buildings, and 22, Richmond-terrace,
Breck-road.

1844 Clay, Robert, 52, Saint Anne-street.

1856 Clay, William, 97, Sefton-street, and 4, Parkhill-road.

1857 Cleaton, John D., M.R.C.S.E., County Lun. Asyl., Rainhill.

1850 Cox, Henry, 15, Exchange-alley North, and Poplar-road, Oxton.

1857 Cranbrook, Rev. James, Liscard.

1856 Cunningham, John, F.G.S., 5, Cook-street.

1844 Dale, Robert Norris, Exchange-strect E.., and Childwall Abbey.

1856 Danson, John Towne, F.S.8., Barrister-at-Law, South John-street, and
Carnsdale Farm, Barnston, Birkenhead.

1848 De Finance, Gabriel, 39, North Bedford-street.

1840 Dickinson, Joseph, M.A., M.D. Trin. Coll. Dub. and Cantab., F.R.S.,
M.R.LA., F.LS., F.B.S.E., Phys. to Liverpool Royal Infirmary,
11, Nelson-street, Great George-square.

1848 Dove, Percy Matthew, F.S.S., 1, North John-street, and 49, Hamilton-
square, Birkenhead.

1843 Drysdale, John James, M.D.Edin., L.R.C.S.E., 44, Rodney-street.

1856 Duckworth, Henry, 3, Canning-street.

1837 Duncan, William Henry, M.D.Edin., Medical Officer of Health, 2, Corn-
wallis-street, and 17, Peel-terrace, Upper Canning-street.

1833 Eden, Thomas, M.R.C.S.E., 345, Park-road.

1848 Edwards, John Baker, Ph.D.Gies, F.C.S., Lect. on Chemistry, Liverp.
Sch. of Med., 42, Berry-street, and 46, Nelson-strect.

1844 Ellison, King, F.R.C.S.E., 30, Rodney-strect.

1856 England, Rev. James, M.A., 56, Grove-strect.

1850 Evans, Henry Sugden, F.C.S., 52, Hanover street, and 7, Victoria-
place, Birkenhead.

7

1846 Faram, John, 8, Railway-cottages, Edge-hill.

1852 Ferguson, William, F.L.8., F.G.8., Gresham House, Old Broad-street,
London, EC.

1855 Finlayson, Alexander, 6, New Quay.

1852 Fischel, Rev. A., New York.

1849 Fisher, William M‘Naught, Ph.D., F.R.A.S., 36, Upper Parliament-st.

1837 Fletcher, Edward, 4, India-buildings.

1854 Fletcher, Fred. Dicker, M.R.C.S.E., Lect. on Anat. and Phys. Liverp.
Sch. of Med., 15, Upper Duke-street.

1855 Foard, James Thomas, 34, Church-street.

1854 Gee, Robert, M.D.Heidelb., M.R.C.S.E., 10, Ouford-street.

1856 Glazebrook, Nicholas Smith, M.R.C.S.E., Hayman’s-green, West Derby.
1853 Godden, Joseph, M.R.C.S.E., Village-road, Oxton, Cheshire.

1855 Goodwin, Joseph, 7, Wheatland-lane, Seacombe.

1856 Grainger, John, B.A., 4, Chapel-street, and Palatine Club, Bold-street.
1853 Greenwood, Henry, 32, Castle-street, and 12, Fairfield-crescent, Fairfield.

1856 Hains, Rev. P. F., Hoylake.

1855 Hakes, James, M.R.C.S.E., Surg. North. Hosp., 12, Maryland-street.

1850 Hamilton, George, F.R.A.S., F.C.S., North Egremont, and Queen’s
College, Mount-street.

1856 Hardman, Lawrence, Sweeting-street, and Rock Park, Rock Ferry.

1837 Hartley, John Bernard, Coburg-dock, and 10, Bedford street S.

1857 Haywood, Francis, Esq., 7, Eachange-buildings, and Edge-lane Hall.

1857 Harvey, Enoch, 12, Castle-street, and 5, Wellington-terrace, Prince's

ark.

1842 Heath, Edward, Esq., Orange-court, 37, Castle-street, and St. Domingo
Grove, 114, Breckfield-roud N., Everton.

1855 Hess, Ralph, 15, South Juhn-street, and Bedford-street.

1846 Higgins, Rev. H. H., M.A.Cantab., F.C.P.S., Rainhiil. ,

1836 Higginson, Alfred, M.R.C.8.E., 44, Upper Parliament-street.

1850 Hodson, Thomas Llewellyn, M.R.C.S.E., 41, Islington.

1857 Holden, Erasmus, 268, Great Howard-street.

1854 Holland, Charles, 17, Tower-bwildings North, and Liscard Vale, Egre-
mont.

1849 Holt, George, Jun., 21, Water-street, and 29, Edge-lane.

1847 Horner, Henry P., 10, Basnett-street, and 53, Everton-road.

1850 Howson, Rev. John Saul, M.A.Trin. Coll. Cantab., Principal of the
Collegiate Institution, Shaw-street, and 4, South Hill-street.

1857 Hutton, David, 3, St. George’s-crescent, and 81, Lverton-road.

1841 Hume, Rev. Abraham, D.C.L.Dub., ad ewnd. Cant. Oxon, LL.D.Glasg.
F.S.A., M.P.S., 24, Clarence-strect, Everton.

1854 Hunter, John, Memb. Hist. Soc. of Pennsylvania.

1851 Hutchinson, Richard, M.R.C.S.E., 77, Upper Parliament-street.

1850 Ihne, William, Ph.D.Bonn, 11, Carlton-terrace, 316, Upper Parliament
street.

1857 Imlach, Henry, M.D.Edin., 3, Bedford-street N.

1844 Inman, Thomas, M.D.Lond., M.R.C.S.E., F.B.S.E., Lect. on Principles
and Practice of Medicine, Liverp. Sch. of Med., Phys. to Northern
Hospital, 29, Rodney-street.

1856 Jobson, Joseph, 6, Rodney-street.

1854 Jones, John, 28, Chapel-street.

1856 Jones, Rev. John Herbert, M.A., 115, Church-street, Everton.

1852 Jones, Morris Charles, 3, Harrington-street, and 75, Shaw-street.

1851 Jones, Roger Lyon, 14, FZ. Queen’s Dock, and 1, Great George-square.

8

1855 King, Alfred, 14, Newington, and 9, Netherjield-road South.

1848 Lamport, William James, 21, Water-street, and 5, Beech-terrace, Beech-
street, Fairyield.

1839 Lassell, William, F.R.SS.L. and E., F.R.A.S., 27, Milton-street, and
Broadstones, Sandfield Park, West Derby.

1844 Lear, John, 1, North John-street, and 22, Holland-terruce, Duke-street,
Edge-hill.

1857 Lewis, James, 6, Water-street, and 2, Catherine-strect.

1854 Lidderdale, William.

1856 Livingston, Ronald, 78, Lord-street, and Myrtle Bank, Holly-road,
Fairfield.

1856 M‘Andrew, James Johuston, 5, NV. John-st., and Greenfield Cottaye,
Bromborough. ;

1844 M‘Andrew, Robert, F.R.S., F.L.S., Allhallows Chambers, Lombard-
street, London.

1857 McFie, Robert Andrew, 8, Bachelor-street, and 72, Upper Parliament-
street.

1854 M‘Ilveen, Alexander, Principal Liverp. Institute, Queen's College, and
9, Sandon-terrace.

1853 McNicholl, Thos., Crown-strect.

1855 Mackinlay, Daniel, 31, St. /ames-street, and 77. Cornwallis-street.

1856 Malleson, Rev. F. A., Enfield, Palm Grove, Claughton.

1853 Marrat, Frederick Price, 22, Arcade, and 68, Great Newton-street.

‘848 Marshall, Buchanan, M.D.Glasgow, 29, Islington-terrace.

339 Martin, Studley, Exchange-chambers, and 113, Bedford-street.
44 Mayer, Joseph, F.S.A., F.R.As.S., F.E.S., &c., 68, Lord-street.

1854 Millward, Charles, 10, Brunswick-st., and 14, Wentworth-st., Everton.

1853 Milner, Rev. James Walker, M.A., 1, Downshire-terrace, 324, Upper
Parliament-street.

1855 Morton, George Highfield, 9, London-road, and Great George-street.

1849 Moss, Rey. John James, B.A., Upton, Cheshire.

1849 Mott, Albert Julius, South Castle-street, and Orchard-hey, Rice-lane,
Walton.

1854 Mott, Charles Grey, Clifton Park, Birkenhead.

1834 Neill, Hugh, L.R.C.S.E., F.R.A.S., 6, Abercromby-square.

1857 Neoroji, Dadabhai, 12, Rumford-place, and 70, Rodney-strect.

1856 Nevins, John Birkbeck, M.D.Lond., M.R.C.S.E., Lect. on Materia
Medica, Liverp. Sch. of Medicine, 25, Oxford-street.

1851 Newlands, James, Borough Engineer, 2, Cornwallis-street, and 2,
Clare-terrace, Dule-street North, Edge-hill.

1847 Nisbet, William, L.Fac.P. and S.G., 18, Church-street, Egremont.

1855 North, Alfred.

1846 Picton, James Allanson, F.S.A., 20, Clayton-squure, and Sandy-knowe,
Wavertree.
1854 Prange, F’., 10, Dale-street, and 2, Grove Park, Lodge-lane.

1850 Ramsay, Rev. Arthur, M.A.Trin. Coll. Cantab., Hayman’s Green.

1812 Rathbone, Richard, 20, Water-street, and Woodcote, Aigburth-road.

1812 Rathbone, William, Esq., 20, Water-street, and Greenbank, Wavertree.

1856 Rawlins, Charles Ed., Jun., 23, Temple-street, and 1, Windermere-terrace,
Prince’s-park:.

1851 Redish, Joseph Carter, 18, Chapel-street, and 160, Mount-pleasant.

1854 Rees, William, 28, West Derby-street.

1856 Retzlag, Carl, Ph.D., 11, Upper Hushisson-street,

=” |.

9

1854 Rigee, Thomas, Borough Bank, and 64, Redney-sireet.

1840 Robberds, Rev. John, B.A., 10, High-park-street, Toxteth-park.

1853 Rowe, James, 2. Chapel-waiks, and 51, Shaw-street.

1856 Rudd, Henry Vittoria, 58, South John-streei, and 136, Chatham street.

1856 Salusbury, Sir John S. P., 23, Priory-street, Birkenhead.

1856 Samuelson, Newton, F.C.8., 3, Hackin’s-hey, and 59, Hope-street.

1857 Saunders, Walter, 25, Brook-street.

1846 Scholfield, Henry Daniel, M.D.Oxon, M.R.C.8.E., 14, Hamilton-square,
Birkenhead.

1854 Slack, Henry Wright, M.R.C.8.E., 25, Islington-terrace.

1812 Smith, James Houlbrooke, Esq., 28,Rodney-strect, and Green-hill. Allerton.

1848 Smith, John Peter George, Borough Bank, Water-street, and Stonejield,
Anfield, Walton Breck.

1853 Sommers, John Augustus, L.R.C.8.E., 175, Palkner-street.

1855 Taylor, John Stopford, M.D.Aberd., M.R.G.S., 1, Springjield.

1843 Taylor, Robert Hibbert, M.D.Edin., L.R.C.S.E., F°.B.S.E., Lect. on
Opthalmic Medicine, Liverp. Sch. of Med., Perey-street.

1854 Thompson, Samuel Henry, Esq., Zhingwall-hall, Knotty Ash.

1849 Thomson, David Purdie, M.D.idia., L.R.C.S.E., 4, Salisbury-street.

1812 Thorneley, Thomas, Esq., M.P., 8, Mount-street.

1856 Tinling, Charles, 60, Castle-street, and 43, Church-street, Birkenhead.

~ 1851 Towson, John Thomas, Scient. Examiner of Masters and Mates,

Sailors’ Home, and 47, Upper Parliament-street.
1844 Turnbull, James, M.D.Edin., Phys. Liverp. Roy. Infirm., 19, Upper
Duke- street.

1844 Vose, James Richard White, M.D.Edin., Sen. Phys. Liverp. Royal
Infirmary, 5, Gambier-terrace.

1844 Walmsley, Joshua, 50, Lord-street.

1849 Watling, John William Henry, M.R.C.S.E., Wavertree.

1857 Whitehead, James Wright, Orange-court, Castle-street, and 15, Duke-
street, Edge-hill.

1855 Wilks, W. G., 1. North John-street, and 26, Everton-road.

1844 Winstanley, Samuel, 44, Church-street, and 2, Gambier-terruce.

1855 Wybergh, John, jun., Sessions-house, and Church-road, Seaforth.

CORRESPONDING MEMBERS:
LIMITED TO SIXTY.

1812 Peter Mark Roget, M.D.Edin., F.R.C.P., F.B.S., F.G.S., F.R.A.S.,
M.R.G.S., &c., London.

1815 George Cumming, M.D.Edin., L.R.C.P., Denbigh.

1819 John Stanley, M.D.idin., Whitehaven.

1820 Joseph Carne, F.R.S., M.R.LA., F.G.S., &c., Penzance, Cornwall.

1828 Rev. Broek Aspland, Duckinfield, Cheshire. :

John Ashton ¥-ates, M.R.G.S., Bryanston-square, London.

1833 Thomas Stewart Trail], M.D.Edin., F.R.C.P.E., F.R.S.@., F.G.S.., &e.,
Edinburgh University.

1833 The Right Hon. the Earl of Harrowby, P.C., D.C.L., F.R.S., Sandon-
hall, Staffordshire, and 39, Grosvenor-square, London.

1833 James Yates, M.A., F.R.S., F.L.S., F.G.8., &c., Lauderdale-house,
Highgate, London.

10

1835 George Patten, A.R.A., London.

1835 William Ewart, M.P., Cambridge-square, Hyde-park, London.

1835 Lord Brougham and Vamx, M.A., I'.R.S., &c., &e., &e.

1836 Chevalier de Kirckhoff, Antwerp. ;

1837 The Right Hon. the Earl of Burlington, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S., M.R.LA.,
F.G.S., M.R.G.S., F.C.P.S., F.Z.8., Belgrave-square, London.

1838 Professor Airey, M.A., D.C.L., F.R.S., Hon. F.R.S.E., Hon. M.R.IA.,
F.R.A.S., F.C.P.8., &c., Astronomer Royal, Greenwich.

1840 James Naysmith, Patricroft.

1840 Richard Duncan Mackintosh, L.R.C.P., Exeter, Devonshire.

1841 Charles Bryce, M.D.Glasg., Fell. F.P. and 8.Glasg., Socio dell’Accad.
de Lin. Roma., Ludlow.

1844 J. Beete Jukes, M.A., F.R.S., M.R.LA., F.G.S., Local Director of the
Geological Survey of Ireland, Dublin.

1844 T. B. Hall, London.

1844 Peter Rylands, Warrington.

1844 John Scouler, M.D., LL.D, F.L.S., Prof. Nat. Hist. Dublin Royal
Society, Dublin.

1844 Thomas Rymer Jones, F.R.S., F.Z.8., F.L.S., M.R.C.S.E., &c., King’s
College, Lon:ion.

1844 Robert Patterson, Belfast.

1844 Signor L. Bellardi, Turin.

1844 Signor Michelotti, Zarin.

1844 Thomas Bell Salter, M.D.Edin., M.R.C.S.Eng. and Edin., F.L.S,,
F.B.S.E., Ryde, Isle of Wight.

1844 Professor Alger, Boston, US.

1844 Sir Charles Lemon, Bart., M.A.Cantab., F.B.S., F.G.S., Cardew,
Cornwall.

1844 I] Cavaliere Carlo Passerini, Pisa.

1844 William Carpenter, M.D.Edin., M.R.C.8.E., F.R.S., F.G.S., London
University.

1846 Rev. Baden Powell, M.A.Oxon., F.R.S., F.R.A.S., F.G.S., &c., Oxford
Oniversity.

1847 Sir William Rowan Hamilton, LUL.D., Hon. F.R.S.E., M.R.L.A.,
F.R.A.S., F.C.P.S., Astronomer Royal of Ireland, Dublin.

1849 Thomas Nuttall, F.L.8., Rainhill, Lancashire.

1849 Rev. Thomas Corser, M.A., Stand, Bury.

1850 Rev. St. Vincent Beechey, M.A. Cantab., Worsley, near Eccles.

1851 James Smith, F.R.SS.L. and E., F.G.8., &e., Jordan-hill, Glasgow.

1851 Henry Clarke Pidgeon, London.

1851 Rev. Robert Bickersteth Mayor, M.A.Cantab., Fell. St. John’s Coll.
Cantab., F.C.P.8., Rugby.

1852 Thomas Spencer, London.

1852 William Reynolds, M.D., Coed-du, Denbighshire.

1853 Rev. James Booth, LL.D., F.R.S., &e., Wandsworth, Surrey.

1857 Thomas Hutchinson, H. M. Consul, Fernando Po.

EE,

—

PROCEEDINGS
OF THE
LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY
DURING THE
FORTY-SIXTH SESSION, 1856-57,

ANNUAL MEETING
Hep ar tHe Royar Insrrrurion, October 20th, 1856.
ROBERT M‘ANDREW, Esq., F.R.S., Presrpent, in the chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
James Jounston M‘ANDREW.
Rev. Jonn Hersert Jones, M.A.
Joun Brrxspeck Nevins, M.D.

The following resignations and removals from list, chiefly caused by
change of residence and inability to attend the meetings, were
announced :—

By resignation Dr. Cohen, Rev. H. H. Hampton, George Hunt,

and ; Joseph King, Jun., William Lassell, Jun., Lieut.
change of residence. Lord, Dr. Mitchell, Rev. Henry Griffiths, Rev. J.
Porter, John Roberts, Dr. Ramsay, James O. Ryder,
W. W. Rundell, and C. F. Salt.
Removed from roll

by operation of = Thomas Dorning Hibbert, and George Melly, Jun.
the laws. :

The following
REPORT OF THE RETIRING COUNCIL
was then read and unanimously adopted :—

At the opening of another Session, the Council meet the Society
with one source of regret, and that is the retirement of the President,
after a lengthened period of zealous attachment to its interests; but
though Mr. M‘Andrew’s future abode will give him enlarged inter-
course with Societies and men of science, we have the assurance that
this Society shall receive his warmest support.

12

The Council refer with pleasure to the prosperity of the Society, as
shown by the Treasurer's Report, and the arrangements made for the
Session we are about to enter on. Already one or more papers haye
been offered for every Ordinary Meeting, in response to the Secretary's
application.

The Council do not deem it expedient to recommend to their
successors the continuance of the Sectional Committees previously
organised, no material advantage having been derived from their
co-operation.

The yolume of Proceedings for 1855-56 is now ready, and will
speedily be in the hands of members.

With other Societies the Council have to report a continuance of
friendly intercourse.

The interest which this Society has taken in the inquiries affecting
ships’ compasses, led your Secretary to endeavour to obtain from Dr.
Scoresby, upon his return from Australia, an exposition of the experi-
ments and results of that scientific voyage, but the private arrange-
ments of Dr. Scoresby rendered it impossible for the sean” to call
a special meeting.

The Society has had to mourn the loss, by death, of Joseph Brooks
Yates, Esq,, and the Rey. Dr. Buckland; and, by resignation of his
seat upon the Council, of the services of the Rev. Dr. Fischel, who has
gone to the United States. Upon the almost irreparable loss of Mr.
Yates, the Society has already expressed its opinion in an address
to the family.

The total number of Ordinary Members at. present is 140, and
the proposals of several gentlemen are before the Society. Last
Session, twenty new members were elected, but by the operation of its
laws and resignations, mainly caused by change of residence to a
distance, and inability to attend the Society’s meetings, twenty-six were
removed from the roll. The Corresponding Members number 44,
giving a totality of 184 members.

The donations to the Society during the year ending June last, have
been recorded in the minutes, and acknowledged in the “ Proceedings.”

The Council have chosen the following five members as fit persons to
supply the places of those who, by the laws, are not eligible for election
upon the new Council: Richard Brooke, F.S.A., John Cunningham,
F.G.S8., Joseph C. Redish, George Hamilton, F.R.A.S., F.0.S., and
James Thomas Foard.

Rost. M‘Anprew, F.R.S., President.
Davip P. THomson, M.D., Hon. Secretary.

13

The Treasurer’s accounts were then submitted and unanimously

passed.

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12

The Council refer with pleasure to the prosperity of the Society, as
shown by the Treasurer’s Report, and the arrangements made for the
Session we are about to enter on. Already one or more papers have
been offered for every Ordinary Meeting, in response to the Secretary's
application.

The Council do not deem it expedient to recommend to their
successors the continuance of the Sectional Committees previously
organised, no material advantage having been derived from their
co-operation.

The volume of Proceedings for 1855-56 is now ready, and will
speedily be in the hands of members.

With other Societies the Council have to report a continuance of
friendly intercourse.

The interest. which this Societv has taken in the inaniries affecting

—— Oe ey ee + -
Rew eventy aA - oe - - —

laws and resignations, mainly caused by change of residence to a
distance, and inability to attend the Society’s meetings, twenty-six were
removed from the roll. The Corresponding Members number 44,
giving a totality of 184 members.
The donations to the Society during the year ending June last, have
been recorded in the minutes, and acknowledged in the “ Proceedings.”
The Council have chosen the following five members as fit persons to
supply the places of those who, by the laws, are not eligible for election
upon the new Council: Richard Brooke, F.S.A., John Cunningham,
F.G.S., Joseph C. Redish, George Hamilton, F.R.A.S., F.C.S., and
James Thomas Foard.
Rosr. M‘Anprew, F.R.S., President.
Davi P. THomson, M.D., Hon, Secretary.

13

The Treasurer’s accounts were then submitted and unanimously

passed.

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14

The intention of the President to resign office, through removal from
Liverpool, having been previously made known, the following

VALEDICTORY ADDRESS
OF
ROBERT M‘ANDREW, Esa., F.BR.S., F.L.S.
was then read :—

GENTLEMEN OF THE LITERARY AND PurnosopHicaL SocreTy,—On
retiring from the office of President, in fulfilment of my intention
expressed at our last meeting, I feel called upon to address a few words
to you, believing such a course to be not without precedent. I there-
fore trust you will excuse me occupying a few minutes of your time
before proceeding to the routine business of the evening.

In the first place, I have to express to you my sincere thanks for the
honour of having been allowed to occupy the presidential chair. When
it was announced at the commencement of last session that the election
had failen upon me, I could not but express my regret at the circum-
stance; not from insensibility to the honour conferred upon me, but
under a deep sense of my inability to discharge, in a manner satis-
factory to myself, the duties which it entailed; or adequately to repre-
sent this important Society among the literary and scientific institu-
tions of this and other countries. I cannot but appreciate such a proof
of the good opinion and kind feeling of the Society towards me; and
indeed, in my opinion, there was no honour within the power of my
fellow-townsmen to bestow upon me, which I so highly esteemed, as that
of presidency of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool.

It is my pleasing duty to congratulate you upon the present position
and future prospects of the Society, which may be said to have entered
upon a new phase of its existence. Now, for the first time since com-
mencing the publication of its transactions, does our income cover our
expenditure; and, so far from the apprehensions being realised of those
who anticipated an important secession from the Society, in conse-
quence of the increased rate of subscription, the number of members
is actually as great as at any previous period of its history; and I
think it may be added, that at no past time could our list of members
show a larger proportion of names of individuals taking an active
interest in the promotion of science and literature; also, that any loss
which might accrue to the interest of our meetings through the retire-
ment of those few members who have notified their resignation during
the past year, is compensated by the greater degree of harmony
which their absence has occasioned. It is, in my opinion, even a
matter of congratulation that the terms upon which we were willing to

--

15

be incorporated with a body more numerous than our own were not
acceded to; and I do trust, that in future, no proposal will be listened to
for the admission of any collective body within our ranks otherwise
than by individual ballot, in conformity with the law regulating the
election of members.

Those questions affecting its constitution, and even its separate
existence, which have agitated the Society during the few years ante-
cedent to the present, being definitely set at rest, it is hoped that the
undivided attention of the members will be now concentrated upon
carrying out the objects for which the Society was originally called into
existence, viz., the cultivation of literature and philosophy, and the ad-
vancement of these blessings of civilisation in our town and neighbourhood.

Among the considerations which, in my opinion, should deter us
from entertaining any project for an amalgamation with another Society
(should such be again brought forward) at a future period, I take leave
to mention that it has never been the policy or practice of this Society
to canvass for members, or to solicit patronage, and that the appoint-

‘ment to its most honourable offices should be considered due to those

who have laboured most for the promotion of its objects and interest.
It is not by courting popularity, or devising measures for keeping the
Society continually before the public eye, or by flattering the vanity of
its members, that the permanent success or real interests of the Society
can be promoted; but by pursuing steadily, unostentatiously, and with
singleness of purpose, the worthy and important objects set before us, we
may hope that the Society will gather strength gradually, ‘‘ occulto velut
arbor evo,” will extend the sphere of its influence, and become a not un-
worthy coadjutor of the British Association for the Advancement of Science,
and other combinations for promoting the great cause of human progress.

It has been said that ‘“ Liverpool has done but little for science,
though science has done much for Liverpool,” and it is to be feared, not-
withstanding the high scientific reputation achieved by a few of our
townsmen, that too much ground has existed for the imputation. Our
town offers but few inducements for the man of leisure to take up his
residence among us; we have as yet no university to furnish in its
staff of professors a centre and rallying point to those inclined to
intellectual pursuits ; while the wealthier classes, though not so blind
to their direct interest as not to encourage the researches of a Compass
Committee, have been too much absorbed in the turmoil of business to
devote any considerable portion of their time to the encouragement or
cultivation of abstract science, or anything not promising to contribute
directly to success in their money-seeking pursuits. I am happy to
think, however, that this cause of reproach, if it is not already removed,

16

will soon have ceased to exist ; and although we can hardly expect our
town to attain so high a reputation for science and learning as it has
acquired for all that pertains to navigation and commerce, we may yet
hope to see it, even in the former, second only to the metropolis and
university cities of the British empire. There are several cheering
indications which justify this hope. We owe it to the enlightened
energy of our Corporation that Liverpool has been among the first to
follow the example set by a neighbouring borough in the establishment
of a Free Public Library, which, in conjunction with the Natural
History collections bequeathed by the late Earl of Derby, and the pro-
mised Free Public Museum, cannot fail to have a most beneficial
influence upon the habits and pursuits of the humble classes of the
community, while it affords facilities for prosecuting the researches of
the more learned. A museum of applied science in connexion with the
Royal Institution is being formed, mainly through the agency of one of
the most active members of this Society, backed by liberal contributions
from various quarters. It is the desire of all parties that this Museum
should be freely open to the public, and there is perhaps no kind of
scientific collection more calculated to engage the interest of the popu-
lace at large, or to convey to it a greater amount of useful instruction.
That the public is not disposed to neglect the advantages offered to it,
we have evidence in the annual reports of the Library and Museum
Committee, and also in tke gratifying fact that on the occasion of the
public holiday to celebrate the restoration of peace, no fewer than seven
thousand well-conducted people visited the collections of the Royal
Institution.

Among the objects still to be desired, and which I do not despair of
one day seeing accomplished, may be mentioned the making of arrange-
ments by which the interesting collections of the Royal Institution may
be rendered gratuitously accessible to the public at all convenient
seasons ; also that the Botanic Garden, and the Town Museum (when
we get it), may be placed under scientific management. In expressing
this desire, I wish to make no imputation upon the Town Council of
Liverpool, and it is neither to be expected nor desired, that in selecting
a candidate for election to a body entrusted with the municipal govern-
ment of this great town, and the administration of the vast revenues, a
proficiency in the sciences of botany or zoology should be considered an
important qualification. Be this as it may, it is unfortunately a fact
too notorious to botanists that the Botanical Garden of Liverpool, for-
merly amongst the most important in the country, has for many years
been quite useless as a scientific institution.

Having concluded the few remarks which I felt called upon to offer,

EE —E——

17

it only remains to me to apologise for having occupied even so much of
your time; and we will now proceed to the especial business of the
evening, commencing with the election of president.

The Society then proceeded to elect a new President, when Dr.
Tuomas Inman was elected; subsequently the other Office-bearers and
Council were chosen, viz.:—Council for the Forty-sixth Session:
Tuomas Inman, M.D., President; W. Inne, Ph.D., Rev. H. H.
Hiaeins, M.A., and T. C. Arncuer, Vice-Presidents; Isaac Byrruery,
M.B.C.8.E., F.L.S., Treasurer; D. P. Toomson, M.D., Hon. Secretary ;
Atrrep Hicernson, M.R.C.S.E.; J. B. Epwarps, Ph.D., F.C.S.;
Rey. A. Ramsay, M.A.; Epwarp Bretuerton, F.G.8.; Ricwarp
Brooxg, F.S.A.; Gro. Hamitton, F.R.A.S., F.C.S.; Joun Cunnine-
HAM, F'.G.S.; Josep C. RepisH; and James T. Foarp.

A resolution was then come to that.the paper of the evening shall
inyariably be begun not later than eight o'clock, it being with the
Society to decide whether or not the meeting shall extend beyond 9.30.

Dr. Ihne moved a vote of thanks to Mr. M‘Andrew, which was
carried by acclamation.

AT AN EXTRAORDINARY MERERTING,
Held upon the 29th October, 1856,
THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., Prusipenv, in the chair,

The resolution affecting the time of reading the Paper of the
Evening was confirmed.

SECOND ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royar Insrrrurron, October 29th, 1856,
THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., Presipent, in the chair.

The resignation of Mr. Norman Macleod, through change of resi-
dence, was received. ,

18

Mr. Atrrep Hraernson exhibited a volume of the “Manchester
Magazine,” a newspaper of date 1742-43, and read various extracts,
chiefly in relation to the connexion between Manchester and Liverpool.
Also, the “‘ Chronicle of the Queen of Hungary, with the mighty acts
of George King of England, at the battle of Dettingen, and King
George’s Psalm of Thanksgiving for the victory over his and her
enemies, written in the manner of the Jewish historians, by Abram
Ben Saddi, brother to Nathan the Jew”—no date.

The Rev. Joun Ropserps exhibited an impression of a betrothal
seal (ring) of the time of Edward II., found at Bridgewater, in August
last. The device consisted of two heads in profile, face to face, with
the motto, Je sv sel d'amour lel.

Mr. T. C. Arcuer exhibited a specimen of pottery, made by the
Indians on the banks of the Amazon, and which was common in Para.
The bark was stripped from a tree, a species of cryso-balanaceous
plant, or hog-plum, which was then burned, its ashes mixed with the
river mud, and clay thus formed. He also showed a specimen of tea
made from coffee leaves, in taste not unlike some of our best congous.
The theine was larger in quantity than in tea from Assam or China.
He likewise referred to an American diving machine, called the.
Nautilus, which was constructed on simple but truly scientific prin-
ciples.

Bessemer’s mode of manufacturing iron was made the topic of
conversation ; after which the following Address was read :—

INAUGURAL ADDRESS,
By THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D.Lonp., Presipent :—

GENTLEMEN,—In accepting the office to which your confidence has
elected me, my first duty is to express my sense of the honour you
have conferred, and my earnest wish to show myself worthy of your
suffrages. The selection of an individual for your president is the
highest token of esteem it is in your power to bestow; and it is not
without a sensation of pride that I find myself in a chair which has
previously been occupied by so many distinguished men. Yet there
are few gratifications that have not a dash in them of the bitter, and
my next impulse, after returning you my thanks, is to frame a sort of
apology for that love of science which is commonly prejudicial to all
professional men. To the generality of people whose chief occupation
is money getting, and whose relaxations are good living, gossip, news-
papers, and cards, it seems incredible that any one could feel enjoy-
ment in what to themselves would be nothing but dreary dulness, or
a task of mind they feel unequal to grapple with. They imagine a

19

man must stick to one business alone, and that to attempt to know
more is to know none.

A clergyman who is an adept in geology is too frequently considered
little better than an infidel, and if he adopts chemistry he is supposed
to have dealings with the devil; as was Friar Bacon in days gone by.
If a lawyer shows a familiar acquaintance with the laws of physics he
is at once considered to be an unsound jurist; and Lord Bacon, the
prince of all philosophers, is supposed to have fallen by bribery and cor-
ruption only because he presumed to quarrel with Aristotle and the
schoolmen. Ifa schoolmaster is known as a naturalist he is in danger
of losing his pupils. Roscoe was by some of his contemporaries
supposed to have been unfortunate in business because he was suc-
cessful as an author; and there are some who believe that Rogers’
bank would never have been robbed if he had not written poetry in his
younger days. Dr. Mantell lost almost all his practice because he was
known to be an ardent geologist ; and a physician is supposed to be
lost to his profession when he writes upon metaphysics.

We may even go further, and say that if a man is known to enjoy
field sports as a relaxation, he is supposed to be even worse than
a philosopher. The world allows to the professional man no
pleasures of this kind, and considers that a man is better fitted for the
active duties of life by the pleasures of sense than by mental culture,
or bodily exercise in a pure atmosphere. Yet experience shows, even
to the meanest intellect, that it is not the man who sticks to his
business, and that alone (‘the practical man,” as he is par excellence
designated), who is the one to attain the greatest knowledge of his art
or craft, and exercise the highest influence over its progress.

It was not a seaman who worked out the law of storms, but a general
in the army; nor, when adopted, were seamen the first to test it
thoroughly. The architects of England tried in vain to produce a
gigantic building worthy of the Great Exhibition, and were taught a
new phase of their art, by a gardener. Iron shipbuilders and ex-
perienced captains lost many of their ships without any advance in
the knowledge of how to adjust their compasses, and were at length
taught by a clergyman ; and, in Liverpool, by a committee of merchants,
naval officers, engineers, physicians, and others. It was not a bellfounder,
but a barrister, who made ‘‘ Big Ben” of Westminster. Our generals
campaigned in the Crimea in the style of two hundred years ago, and
made no improvements till shown the way by the Crystal Palace Com-
pany. Doctors were contented with their miserable hospitals till shown
how to improve them by Florence Nightingale, a gentle country lady.
Dockyard-masters could give no explanation of mysterious fires till

20

their Emperor put them on the scent ; and f know that in some of the
trials of the “ big gun” an artillery officer declared it to be an impos-
sibility to traverse it on its temporary carriage, a thing which was done
in a few minutes by the man who forged it. Gunpowder was not
invented by a soldier. The laws of combustion have received no
attention from insurance offices. It was not a pit owner who dis-
covered the safety-lamp; nor a mine owner who improved pumping
engines. Agriculture has not been improved scientifically by farmers.
It is not to the well-sinkers that we go for an unlimited supply of
water ; and the sanitary movements, by which the health and comfort
of the lower orders have already been increased, did not originate with
the guardians of the poor.

Not only are these things generally true, it is equally certain that
those who excel in an extraneous study which requires a constant
stretch and exertion of the mind, excel also in their own peculiar
vocation.

Williams, the celebrated and most successful missionary, was an
adept at shipbuilding, could frame alphabets, and write grammars for
languages yet unwritten, and could pen as readable a book as any
accomplished author. Napoleon was as conspicuous asa statesman and
lawgiver as he was successful as a warrior. Wellington was a keen
sportsman as well as a skilful general, and we often meet with proofs
in his despatches that had he not been acquainted with more than his
simple business as leader he would have failed as others have done.
Sir Charles Napier, renowned as a commander in the field, was equally
astute in council, and excelled in his organising powers those whose
attention had been called solely to civil government, and had no mind
beyond. Lord Brougham, who surpasses in mental activity all ordinary
men, and who has shone as an author in physics, biography, and
philosophy, has done more to improve the profession of the law than
any other individual.

In fine, we may sum up by saying that the mind of the routine and
practical man is like a railroad carriage which confines itself fo a line
of rails from which it cannot go with safety; while the mind of the
scientific man possesses the character of a horseman who can make
excursions in all directions, and strike out new sources of interest,
comfort, or wealth, to which rails may afterwards be laid down.

There are few ideas which are more generally entertained than that
science is making, and has been making, great strides; and, in the
main, there is no doubt that the idea is correct, though it cannot be
adopted without many restrictions. Knowledge is like money; he
who has much not only wishes to obtain, but actually obtains more. As

21

there seems to be a natural tendency in “ capital" to accumulate in the
hands of a few who already possess an abundance, and to leave those
who have little—so it is with science. The great men become greater,
for they have more to think of, examine, and explain; but the small
men become smaller, for they lean on the minds of others. The
majority prefer to learn the results that others have arrived at, rather
than examine the soundness of the reasonings and the correctness of
the conclusions. A system of mental “‘cramming” is a substitute for
thought; and a place in the memory is considered equivalent to a
place in the understanding. When so much has to be learned, atten-
tion is not paid to learning well. very one who styles himself a
“professor” demands and receives implicit confidence, and the charlatan
has an authority equal to, if not greater, than the real philosopher. If
anew system is promulgated by a forward man, which, after being
examined, is opposed by sounder heads, he and his disciples shelter
themselves under the idea that as Harvey and Jenner were decried in
their day, so they, by being similarly attacked, are placed on the same
level with those illustrious men.

If it were not that general observation showed us that a love of the
marvellous was a common failing in mankind, we might well express
surprise that a mysterious cause is always assumed whenever any
unusual phenomenon occurs, instead of a common and well-known
agency. Thus, ten people all lay their hands on a table with a wish
that it shall move in a certain direction, and yet a will not to push it,
and when they see it move in the intended manner they assume at once
that it is started by some previously unknown law of magnetism, rather
than by their wish being stronger than their will. So general was the
belief in a new force that Faraday took steps to demonstrate its absurdity,
and yet, in spite of his experimental proofs, there are still vast numbers
who refuse credence to them, and these (some of whom I know) are
considered men of sound common sense. A ring suspended by a silken
thread passed over the thumb, the elbow resting on the table, is found
to vibrate in a certain direction, even though the hand is supposed to
be still. It would. be easy to explain this, by pointing out that the
thumb was moved at every beat of the pulse, and to try what the effect
would be by steadying the thumb on a solid support; but that would
be too simple. A new force must be looked for, and we see men of
genius finding it at once, giving it the curious name of Od, or the
odyllic force.

But this is not all. If a “professor” comes before us, declaring
that he does certain things by a certain agency or power, we investigate
his pretensions, we satisfy ourselves of his facts, we find ourselves

D

,

22

unable to explain them, and then, as we are unable to give a satisfac-
tory explanation of them ourselves, we commonly consider we are bound
to accept his. And it is particularly in the countenance given to all
sorts of pseudo-professors that we are enabled to contrast the multitude
of to-day with that of days gone by. In Pompeii we see the shrine of
the goddess Isis, and the contrivance by which her priests could give
a response apparently from the lips of divinity. We smile at the
superstition of the votaries, and think we are far better than they, till
we see by advertisement that some lady is coming from America who
will enable us to hold familiar discourse with Plato, Socrates, St. Paul,
Julius Cesar, St. Peter, and Sir Robert Peel. A rap on the table
supplants the voice of the goddess, and the oracle is spelled letter by
letter, and knock after knock, rather than under the inspiration of a
feigned insanity, and by an audible voice. We smile at the conceit of
the prophets of Ahab, who, to please the king, told him to go on and
prosper ; and we ponder on the expression of one who declares before
God that he will be a lying spirit in the mouths of the false ones,
to bring about a particular end; aud we pity Ahab for believing what
he wished to come to pass, rather than what he knew would do so; yet
we give credit for prophetic power to those spirit rappers who, whenever
they are wrong, complain of their inability to discriminate between their
lying and truth-telling visitors—a flimsy excuse for a transparent cheat.
There is not a schoolboy who does not pity the celebrated Pyrrhus,
King of Epirus, for sending to an oracle for directions, or some indica-
tion of his policy, and who does not wonder that the very trans-
parency of the cheat did not open his eyes to the absurdity of trusting
to such prophecies as he received; and yet that same schoolboy, when
he grows to be a man, will himself believe in clairvoyance, and go toa
wise woman for information as to whether Sir John Franklin would
come back to England, or whether his own wife lost her purse in the
mud of a street or by the hand of a thief. We smile when we hear of
the King of Israel, who sent to Baal-Zebub to know whether he would
recover of his disease; and yet some think that the individual who
sends a lock of hair to Alexis, the Parisian mesmerist, and demands
an account of his disease and cure, is in advance of his times. We
talk with ‘ bated breath” of the credulity of Dr. Dee, who allowed
himself to be gulled by his ball of crystal and his man Kelly, and say
the world is wiser now; yet we sympathise with electro-biologists, who
fancy they feel the rain ees a professor wonders they do not put up
their umbrellas, or that they are statues because they are ald they are
made of stone. * * * * *

The transition from a comparison between the beta condition of

23

our modern multitude and those of ancient times to a comparison of
the substantial comforts would be comparatively easy, were it not that
the standard of luxury and enjoyment is by no means a fixed one. We
admire the magnificence of the wealthy Etruscans, and form a high
opinion of their luxurious habits. Yet they had no sugar or tea; and
milliners and dressmakers were almost unknown. We gaze with
interest on those lovely statues reclining on their couches, and praise
the artist for his skill. Yet those couches were not equal to our sofas,
with their delicious spring cushions. We, with our well-tempered
razors and scissors, wonder why beards were so common in a warm
country, and why the dying gladiator had not his hair properly trim-
med ere he came to the fight, until we remember that Sheffield is a
town of modern times, and that Roman cutlers thought more of arms
than articles for the toilet. We puzzle over the great varieties of
hair-dressing practised among the matrons and maidens of the impe-
rial city, and only find a clue in the almost total absence of anything
like good combs and brushes. We feel for the old senators who did
not know the value of a good tailor, and the warmth during winter of
a pair of breeches; and for the classic females, whose chief clothing
was a petticoat and a sort of shepherd’s plaid. We discuss the taste
that induced the Romans to personify in stone their great men as
naked heroes; and while they clothed inartistic drapery the Messa-
linas and Agrippinas, erected statues to the more noble and religious
matrons, representing them as Venus, carrying out the idea that love-
liness needs not the foreign aid of ornament, but is, when “ unadorned
adorned the most.” We have in our own day many admirers of ancient
art, and many who would wish to copy it, yet few would venture to
place Prince Albert in the Royal Academy’s exhibition as the Apollo
Belvedere, and Queen Victoria as the Venus de Medicis.

We pity the ancients who did not know the luxury of Argand
burners, Sinumbra lamps, and gas in their streets and houses; we
wonder how they got along without a better style of glass; and yet,
when we look round upon the population of our colonies, we find the
Indian preferring a mocassin to a pair of brogues; the Australian
using the trousers for a cloak, and not caring for more clothing. The
Canadian has to do without Parisian lamps; our beaux are beginning
to despise the razor, and our belles at one period were little more than
half draped ; and the Highland soldier can yet do without his breeches :
nevertheless, these have their own enjoyments, and it would be presump-
tuous to say that they are not as great as those of the richest noble,
who has everything around him that wealth can buy.

A comparison between the engineering powers of ancient and

24

modern days I must leave out entirely, as it would entail far too long
a review of triumphs attained by each respectively. I would rather
turn to those pleasures which even a superficial knowledge of literature
and science affords to the traveller when moving from place to place,
and in illustration refer to my recent tour. I cannot, however, go
extensively into these, seeing that my journeys have been of a strictly
professional character.

How suggestive is a ramble through Cornwall! There you may see,
in some parts, huge rocks of granite, fissured by innumerable eracks,
each individually as hard as flint, yet many of them crumbling slowly
away under the influence of air and moisture. Here an ancient church
has its walls still sharp and smooth; there another is honeycombed
like an unused cannon: here you see large tracts of sand, and there
almost equally large tracts of clay, and you speculate upon the causes
of these varied phenomena. You soon see that one rock wears away
much faster than another, and that to the decomposition of the felspar
of the granite, you owe, on the one hand, the china clay, and, on the
other, the common sand, which is nothing more than the disintegrated
crystals remaining after the kaolin is washed away. Then comes the
almost overwhelming thought, does all our sandstone arise from the
gradual disintegration of the primeval rocks? And if so, how vast
must be the period that elapsed between the formation of the one and
the deposition of the other ?

We are tolerably familiar in our own palieg with deposits of gravel,
which are spread over a large surface, but are little prepared for the
appearance presented by some of the vast plains we see in France and
Italy. On the road to Marseilles, south of Arles, the rail passes over a
wide plain, called the Crau, bounded on the east by some low mountains,
and on the west by the horizon only ; and on looking from the carriage
window, we see that it is entirely composed of rounded boulders of
various sizes, between which a few stunted plants struggle on ina
miserable existence. The ancients were struck with its appearance
quite as much as ourselves, Strabo, Pliny, and Aischylus all mention it,
the iast giving a poetical account of its formation. The modern
geologist, however, can see that is simply a plain at the foot of
mountains, and which has been at one time the bottom of a roaring
torrent; that it forms a part of the Camargue, a district formed by the
solid matter brought down constantly by the Rhone; and, making a
note in his memory of its appearance, he is enabled by and by to com-
pare it with other plains. The plain on which Pau is situated has a
somewhat similar character, though it is covered deeply with loam, and
only four miles broad. The traveller reaches Nice, crossing on his way

25

the turbid waters of the Var, whose river bed, now all but dry, is filled
with stones like those on the Crau, and differs from it only in extent;
yet, by and by, that river bed will be filled with a rushing stream, the
noisy waters of which are rendered hoarser still by the constant rolling
of the stones that whirl along its bottom. We take a walk up some of
the olive and vine clad valleys towards the southern slopes of the
Alpine Spurs. Our road is formed by the dry bed of a torrent, and
with steep banks on either side we go on until we are brought up by a
perpendicular wall of rock. We look at it with surprise. It looks a
‘‘ pudding stone,” which is only half solidified, and, as the water has
coursed down its sides, it has worn away a groove, which seems as if
made by some gigantic gouge chisel. We turn upon our steps and
take another valley, where we see on one side of us, a gentle slope, and
on the other a precipice, four hundred feet or so in height, all made up
of this ill-conditioned breccia. We still go on ascending the valley, till
at last the gorge is so narrow that we can touch its sides with our out-
stretched hands. Its course has evidently been worn to its present
depth by the watery violence of many hundred years, and its steep
walls are now covered with abundance of elegant ferns. We emerge
from this “obscure valley,” as it is well designated, and come again to
another wall of rock, so ill cemented that large masses are constantly
falling down. We go to examine these, and find amongst them boulders
of granite, limestone, syenite, and other rocks, not to be found in the
district. They are all waterworn, and the granite, where long exposed,
crumbles in our hands. Struck by the enormous depth of the deposit,
we determined’ to ascertain its upper level, (its lower one we cannot
even guess,) and climbing onwards, made towards the highest
mountain, and when we are about 2500 feet above the sea we find the
waterworn stones are no longer to be met with, and we come upon a
hard limestone rock. We still ascend until we are at the summit,
some 3300 feet high, and have a magnificent view: but what strikes
our eye the most is the mamillated appearance of the hill tops below,
showing unmistakeable evidence of the denuding power of heavy rain,
anil we are no longer surprised at the enormous quantity of detritus in
the bed of the rivers. The eye then wanders over ground it already
knows, and the mind wonders how it is that there shall be at least
2500 feet depth of pudding-stone rock in one locality, while only three
miles away none can be found. In our descent we notice the care with
which every moist part of the mountain, where springs seem to promise
a steady supply of water, is terraced up and supplied by painful
industry with such soil as the implacable rains leave in the limestone
pockets ; and as we descend by another side of the mountain, we are

26

surprised to find not a single trace of conglomerate or breccia anywhere.
Again excursing to gain a clearer notion of the nature of the soil, we
see every condition, from coarse gravel, like the shingle on the shore,
to the downright pudding-stone rock, which our feeble appliances refuse
to break.

Unprepared to explain these phenomena, we leave Science for a time
and turn to Literature. Our will takes us along a road once the
admired track of the Roman legions; straight on to the goal, and by
the shortest way, they level the rock which opposes them, and turn the
angles of the mountains that they cannot climb; we see the ledge
they have hewn, and the rugged rocks not yet worn smooth, which they
were contented with as pavement; we almost sigh as we find our ideas
of the Via Aurelia reduced in dimensions, and conclude that our
notions of a good road, and that of the Romans were widely different,
—a thought which is the prelude to many another respecting the
meanings we give to adjectives used by the Roman authors, and the
meanings the writers themselves had. We reach the Corniche road,
and find it comes up to our idea of a wonderful work of art, and look
back with almost contempt on the puny efforts of the Latins. Yet a
few moments given to reflection show that their work was probably
superior to ours, considering the materials they had at command; and
in pondering on the advantages gunpowder has given to the arts of
peace as well as to the art of war, we reach another hill, whose sides
give no evidence of deposit of gravel, and on topping its summit we
see many a town of vast importance in days gone by. Perched on
almost inaccessible rocks, they formed the strongholds for the people
around; yet a glance at their position shows that they could never
have stood a siege, from want of water.

We take another walk along the river side, and as we reach the
mountains we see huge walls of stratified rock, the strata lying at an
angle of seventy degrees, and presenting at one part a hard slate and
at another a soft shingle, and discover how the one gives the boulders and
the other the mud to the rushing torrent. By and by we ford the
stream, and make our way to Chateauneuf, (as the guide-book remarks,)
“a, town of some importance during the middle ages, now aruin.” After
a toilsome ascent, and many a pause to admire the scenery around, and
the frowning walls of the stronghold, we come to the city on the hill,
and reach the town gate. We find that the place consists of a street
running along the summit of a razor-backed hill, and that the street is
barely a yard wide, and that its town-wall is formed by the outer wall
of the houses. No beaten track, even practicable for mules, can be
found leading to, or from the gate. A tolerably experienced mountain

27

eye cannot detect that the rock has even been worn by well-shod feet.
Scant, however, was our time for observation, for night was drawing on,
and the country was unknown, and no house on our road home was in
sight. What speculations did not a smattering of antiquarianism call
up here! A town on the top of a hill, in what did it differ from
the camps of the ancient Britons, and the strong places of the mound-
builders of America? Where did they get their water, and how could
they store their food? Did the people live there? If so, why are the
paths not more accessible and smooth? We turn in our dilemma to
our guide-book, and find that the peopie only resorted to these places
-when invaded by their enemies, and that their usual residence was in
the lower valleys. * * * * * **

As he extends his journey, the traveller finds: his attention called
away from the soil to the inhabitants that dwelt upon it, and the habi-
tations they erected for their comfort or their safety.

With Edinburgh and Stirling, Carnarvon and Conway, York and
Chester, strong in his memory, with many another British town of
ancient note, with many a Rhenish fortress of the good old times when
might made right, “ when still it was the plan that he should get who
had the power, and let him keep who can,” in his recollection—with
Berne and Sion, and other Swiss fortresses—with many a thought of
Jericho, Ai, Jerusalem, and other fortified towns of Palestine, as well
as of Thebes, Nineveh, Tyre, and Babylon, and the strong castles of
India, and the still ruder remains in Central America and Mexico—the
traveller approaches the once famous towns of Italy, and tries to frame
some idea of their size, wealth, and importance. Bolsena, the site of
the Etruscan Volsinii, is the first that comes under our notice, and we
examine with surprise its present contracted appearance, wondering
whether the ancient town was much larger than the modern. We see
that Pliny declares that it contained 2,000 statues when taken by the
Romans, but we cannot help doubting, whether in its palmiest days it
contained as many men. Close by a large lake, occupying the bed of
an old crater, it must always have been unhealthy and its population
low; asurmise which receives some authority from the very few tomb-
stones found recording the deaths of old men. We cross the great
Etruscan plain, pass near Ferento and Bomarzo, celebrated for its tombs,
and arrive at Viterbo, said to be the Fanum Voltumne, the Washing-
ton of the Etrurians—are obliged, from considerations of health, to
omit Norchia, Bieda, and Castel d’Asso, all interesting from the num-
ber of tombs found in and around them, but we can see well, as we
rise Monte Cimino, whose forests were for a long time the barrier
between Etruria and Rome, that there is nothing in all the plain to

28

support a teeming population. Sutri and Nepi give us no higher idea
of magnificence; and as we proceed and visit Cortona, Assisi, Civita
Castellana, Perugia, Fiesole, and a number of other towns, some still
surrounded by the original walls, we are compelled to believe that
however wealthy the Etrurians were, they were not so numerous as our
imagination had conceived. They seem to have been very like the
Saxous in England, located in small companies wherever there was a
good bit of land and an adjoining hill where they could build a strong-
hold. With a trade comparatively limited, by want of facilities for
carriage, and a soil not requiring much labour to make it bring forth
abundantly, they must soon have fallen into habits of luxury and
idleness ; yet, like all dwellers in the country, they fought well for their
lands, and did not succumb readily to the fierce Romans, who appear
to have had a close resemblance to the Danes and Northmen. Small
though the towns are in the interior, none appearing larger than York
or Chester, those on the coast, where trade was abundant, seem to have
been large and flourishing, whether they belonged to Pelasgi, Etruscans,
Cumean, Grecian, or Roman. Ccere, or Agylla, now Cervetri, was
nearly five miles in circumference; Volterra and Tarquinii were about
the same; and when we go farther south, we find that Cumce was about
the size of Bristol, while Baise, Puteoli, Naples, and Pompeii, may be
compared to Beaumaris, Bangor, Hull, and Berwick.

But we are called from ethnological speculations again to chymistry ;
and in the huge volcanoes scattered up and down we have ample
sources from which rivers of theories may flow. Are those gigantic
streams of lava, those circular mountains, that enclose lakes of twenty-
four miles diameter, those piles of ashes, under which whole towns lie
buried, are they the results of a central fire rising to the surface and
boiling over like water in a kettle, or are they the result of some
chymical action going on in consequence of the juxtaposition of sulphur
and some other element? We descend to a stream of lava, barely
twelve months old, yet everywhere cool, except in one spot, where, in
the yawning crevices, you still find a red hot glow, with a perpetual
rising of hot sulphurous gas and a sublimation of pure sulphur.
Surely, you are inclined to think, if sulphur can thus keep up heat in
an isolated part, it is not difficult to suppose that it may in larger
quantity produce it. How interesting, too, is it to notice the huge
craters of past times, and the smaller ones of to-day. Standing on the
summit of Vesuvius, we see how much smaller it is than was its
predecessor, Monte Somma, and we can see that the high land behind
Naples, the Posilippo hill, is part of a crater whose diameter has been
about eight or ten miles, but which became extinct, as the head of the

* =) *

29

family, leaving such small ones as Nisita, Solfatara, Monte-Nuova,
Avernus, Lucrinus, and others, to follow in their course, just as in
ourselves a number of small boils commonly follow in the wake and
around the site of a large one; between Naples and Florence many a
huge crater is passed, from which has flowed abundance of lava. Rome
itself is in the crater of a voleano which was near the sea shore. ‘The
Appian way is along a bed of lava coming down from the Alban hills.
An Umbrian urn has been found under a similar current running in a
different direction. Here we see a current only a few yards broad, and
there, another a mile wide and some ten or twelve in height; then
we think of the huge Kilhaurea, in the Sandwich Isles, that has just
been ejecting a stream five miles broad and sixty long, filling up valleys
in its course, and still flowing on, while its sister voleano, Manua Loa,
some 6000 feet lower, goes simmering on as if nothing unusual was
taking place ; and whence comes all that mass of molten rock, and what
is to take its place? Is it simply an overboiling of porous matter like
the scum which rises in a saucepan, or is it a material ejected by some
mighty power? If so, what is the mundane gunpowder fired in that
terrific cannon or mortar of our globe, which hurls stones of vast size to
distances far exceeding that to which the heaviest ordnance can throw a
shot? Has water anything to do with it? Is an eruption a sort of
boiler explosion ? And have the drying wells really anything to do
with the phenomena? Can we not see in the account given by Pliny
of the eruption that destroyed Pompeii, i.e. that a fir tree seemed to
shoot up from the mountain and then spread out, the same phenomena
which is presented by the smoke from a cannon when fired at a great
elevation, and may we not thence infer how very long has been the bore
of the earth’s ordnance, and how tremendous the power of its gun-
powder? * * * * * *K *

I have already taken up too much of your time to pursue this subject
farther. Let me, in conclusion, urge upon the society the room there
is for more extensive operations, For the first time, our secretary has
been able to announce that he has been promised a paper for every
evening during the session. By the operation of the new law, a certain
fixed time will now be given to the essay for the evening, and any
discussion that may arise upon it. There is no wish on the part of the
council to prevent members introducing subjects of ephemeral interest
to the society unannounced ; but it is their desire to curtail as much as
possible those desultory observations which often weary the patience of
those who have come with a specific object. For myself, I can only
say, that I have always considered the meetings of our society as a
valuable nursery ground, in which are planted the seed or saplings of

E

30

knowledge, and over which everyone who brings a cutting has amazing
influence. It is the business of the council, and of the president in
particular, to keep the ground in good order, and to promote as much
as possible the healthiness of the trees. As our garden of knowledge
has hitherto been gradually improving, so we may hope that it will
continue to flourish, and that every visit may become more and more
agreeable, both to those who contribute, and to those who only come to
smell our flowers and admire their beauty.

A vote of thanks was unanimously passed to Dr. Inman, for his
interesting inaugural address.

The following communication from Ricuarp Brooke, Esq., F.S.A.,
was then read by him in person :—

A VISIT TO THE FIELD OF THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH,
By RICHARD BROOKE, Esa., F.S.A.

On the 3rd of June, 1856, I visited the celebrated Field of the Battle
of Bosworth,’ so called from its contiguity to the town of Market
Bosworth, in Leicestershire, which is in sight of, and little more than a
mile distant, from the Field. It is a locality vf great terest from
being the place where Richard III., the last of the Plantagenet Kings,’
lost his throne and life, on the 22nd of August, 1485, in battle; the
result of which placed his rival, Henry, Karl of Richmond,’ upon the
throne of England, by the title of Henry VII.

1 T also again visited it on the 22nd of May, 1857. Its real name is Redmoor Plain,
so called from the colour of the soil.‘ Hutton's Bosworth Field,” Second Edition, by J.
Nichols, F.S.A., p. 68.

2 Richard III., the youngest son of Richard, Duke of York, by Cecily, his wife, was
born at Fotheringay Castle, in Northamptonshire, on the 2nd of October, 1452, and was
created Duke of Gloucester in 1461. He married Anne, daughter of Richard, Earl
of Warwick (the King Maker), and Widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, son of
Henry VI. His reign commenced on the 18th of June, he was proclaimed King on the
22nd of June, was crowned on the 7th of July, 1488, and was slain at the Battle of Bos-
worth on the 22nd of August, 1485, having reigned two years and two months. Queen
Anne died in the last year of his reign. He did not leave any issue, Edward, Prince of
Wales, his only child, by Queen Anne, having died before him.

8 Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, was the son of Edmund of Hadham, Earl of Rich-
mond, by his wife, Margaret, daughter of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, descended from
an illegitimate son of John of Gaunt, and was born at the Castle of Pembroke, about 1455.
His pretensions to the crown of England were founded upon his descent through the Beau-
forts, from John of Gaunt, fourth son of King Edward III. But nothing could be more wild
and contrary to the laws and constitution of England than such a claim, because he claimed
through his great grandfather, John Beaufort, Earl of Somerset, who was the son of John of
Gaunt, by Katharine Swinford, but born before their marriage ; and although the issue were
declared legitimate for general purposes by a Charter of 20th Richard II. (which was con-
firmed by an Act of Parliament; see Rot. Parl. 20th Richard II., vol. 3, fo. 343, Sandford’s
‘Genealogical History,” pp. 313, 314, Coke's Inst. vol. 4, p. 37, “ Blackstone’s Com.” by
Stephens, 3rd Kdit., vol. 2, p. 417), it contained an express exception as to the royal dignities

31

The description of the field and of the battle, given by that pains-
taking antiquary, W. Hutton, F'.S.A., is so full, that I am unable to
add much to the stock of information on those subjects, which is con-
tained in his interesting work; to which, however, several references
will be found in the following pages.

He has expressed some surprise at the changes which had taken
place between his visit in 1788 and that in 1807. He says, “I paid
a visit in July, 1807, to Bosworth Field, but found so great an
alteration, since I saw it in 1788, that I was totally lost. The manor
had been inclosed, the fences were grown up, and my prospect impeded.
King Richard’s Well, which figures in our histories, was nearly oblite-
rated ; the swamp where he fell, become firm land; and the rivulet
proceeding from it, lost in an under drain.”*

If so great a change had occurred prior to July, 1807, it may well
be imagined, that a still greater change had occurred when I visited it
in 1856. On that occasion I had the benefit of the local information
and knowledge possessed by Mr. John Rubley, a farmer of respectability,
and a very well-informed person, residing at Dadlington Fields, near
there, who was kind enough to accompany me, and explain the various
positions and points of the field of battle, without which I should have
found it impossible to have understood them, even with the aid of a
copy of the plan of the field, from Mr. Hutton’s work, which I carried
with me.

Amongst other changes which have occurred there, and which have
altered its appearance, may be mentioned the cutting of the Ashby-de-
la-Zouch Canal, which extends through part of it.

Mr. Hutton states that the south end of the field by which Henry
(the words in the Charter as given at length by Coke and Sandford, are, “ excepta dignitate
regali;”’ and it is remarkable that these words seem to have been intentionally omitted in the
printed copy of the Act of the Rot. Parl., vol’3, p. 243: quere were the words cunningly oblite-
rated from the Roll by the order of Henry VII.?); besides which, several persunages, amongst
whom were the daughters of Edward IV.,and aftex them the son and daughter of George, Duke
of Clarence, were living, and in the due order of the succession. By the Battle of Bosworth,
Richmond became King Henry VII. ; he was crowned on the 30th October, 1485, and married
the Princess Elizabeth, eldest daughter of King Edward IV. (the marriage gaye him his
best title to the throne), and he died at Richmond on the 21st of April, 1509, in the 58rd
year of his age, having reigned twenty-three years and about eight months. There is some-
thing remarkable, with respect to the number and rank of the personages who were candi-
dates for the hand of the Princess Elizabeth; firstly, she was intended by her father, King
Edward IV.,, to be the bride of George Neville, Duke of Bedford, the son of John Neville,
Marquis Montague (slain at the battle of Barnet); secondly, she was aflianced to Charles
the Dauphin of France, son of King Louis XI; thirdly, she was courted by her uncle, King
Richard III., who probably intended, as has been the fashion of royalty in Portugal, to
obtain the Pope's permission to marry a niece; fourthly, she married King Henry VIL,

and consequently became a Queen, on the 19th of January, 1486.
‘ Hutton’s ‘ Bosworth Field, Advertisement,” pp. IIL. and LV.

32

advanced is three miles from Bosworth, and was, when he wrote, a
wood of many acres.’ He adds, ‘‘ About thirty yards above the wood
is a spring, called at this day King Richard’s Well. A small dis-
charge of water flows from the well directly down the hill, through the
wood, into the rivulet; but, having no channel cut for its passage, it
penetrates through the soil, and forms that morass which Henry is said to
have left on his right. Amyon Hill is nearly in the centre of the field,
and is by much the highest ground ; the summit is two or three hundred
yards beyond the well. The hill has a steep descent on every side,
but is steepest towards the north, or the Bosworth side, and terminates
with a rill, a bog, and a flat, called Amyon Lays. The field extends
a mile further towards Bosworth, but that part was not the scene of
action.”?

He also informs us that, after Richard had made an oration or
address to his forces, his army marched in battalia to Amyon Hill,
where they arrived before Henry.°

The wood called Amyon (or Ambien) Wood still remains, and is, of
course, much grown and changed since Mr. Hutton’s time. A portion
of the ground upon which it stands, seems to have been the scene of at
least a part of the engagement.* TI walked with my son, Mr.
Alexander Brooke, through a portion of it, and found that part
rather wet and spongy; but there was not then any appearance of
what could with propriety be called a morass, either in the wood, or
below the well, or at the foot of the hill.

Mr. Hutton, in his account of the position of Richard’s army imme-
diately before the battle commenced, and of the place to which he
considers Richard’s right wing extended, states that, ‘‘The King’s
right extended to the declivity of the hill on the Bosworth side, called
Cornhill Furze,’ or Amyon Lays, and his left towards King Richard’s
Well.” ® But it would perhaps be more correct and clear to state, that
the King’s right wing extended along the summit of Amyon Hill, towards
the declivity which slopes down in the direction of Market-Bosworth,
and of the road leading from Shenton to Sutton Cheney; that his
centre occupied the ground where Amyon Hill Farm, tenanted by Mr.

1 Hutton's “ Bosworth Field,” p. 69; and see Ibid advertisement, pp. 4 and 6, where an
error is pointed out in his statement as to the number of acres,

2 Hutton’s “ Bosworth Field,” pp. 69 and 70.

3 Ibid, p. 87.

4 Ibid, additional particulars, p. 241.

5 Some land, occupied as part of Sutton Field Farm, by Mr. Cooper, a farmer of respec-
tability, is called Cornhill Furze, and lies on the north side of the road leading from Shenton
to Sutton Cheney.

6 Hutton's “ Bosworth Field,” p. 88.

33

Bradfield, now is; and that his left wing probably extended a little
beyond King Richard’s Well, which seems to have been in the front of
a portion of his left wing. Consequently, Richard’s army must have
faced to the south-westward, with Market Bosworth and Sutton Cheney
at a little distance in its rear; and that of Henry must have faced to
the north-eastward. The precise position of the armies must, however,
be admitted to be in some measure conjectural.

The marches of the hostile armies before the battle may be concisely
described thus—Richmond set sail from Harfleur on Sunday, the 31st
of July, 1485; landed at Milford Haven on the 6th of August; marched
through Wales, by Dell, Haverfordwest, Cardigan, Newtown, and Welsh-
pool to Shrewsbury; and then through Newport and Stafford, to
Lichfield, where he encamped for a day or two ; and arrived at Tamworth
on the evening of the 18th.’ On the 19th he went to Atherstone, where
Lord Stanley’ and Sir William Stanley® had an interview with him, and
concerted the measures for their future operations. During all his march
he had constant additions to his forces, for others came in and joined him.
On the 20th he encamped at Atherstone, and on the 21st both armies
were in sight of each other for the whole day;* Henry having encamped
at Whitemoors, close to the place where the Battle of Bosworth was
fought on the next day.

It is impossible to suppose that Henry could have acted with such
folly as to sail from France with a very small body of men, described
by Commines as a very sorry and unsolderlike set, from gaols, hospitals,
&c., and land in Wales, and from thence march into the heart of
England, where any serious disaster must have caused the utter ruin
of himself and his adherents, unless he had been well assured before-
hand of the co-operation of Lord Stanley, who was the third husband
of his mother. Such a course of proceeding by Henry, without being
previously certain of Lord Stanley’s deserting Richard at a convenient
opportunity, would have been an act of madness. Everything had, no
doubt, been arranged between them before Henry embarked in France.

Margaret Beaufort, sole daughter and heiress of John Beaufort,
first duke of Somerset, became Countess of Richmond by her marriage
with her first husband, Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond; her
second husband was Sir Henry Stafford (a son of Humphrey Stafford,
first Duke of Buckingham, slain at the battle of Northampton, and a

_ * On his way from Lichfield to Tamworth he was joined by Sir Thomas Bourchier and
Sir Walter Hungerford, who had deserted Richard's party, and with some difficulty joined
the Earl of Richmond.

2 Thomas, Lord Stanley.

* Sir William Stanley, brother of mice Lord Stanley.
* Hutton’s “ Bosworth Field" (additional particulars), pp. 195, 196.

34

brother of Humphrey Stafford, Earl of Stafford, slain at the first battle
of St. Alban’s, and also brother of John Stafford, Earl of Wiltshire) :
and her third husband was Thomas, Lord Stanley, afterwards Earl of
Derby. ‘The Countess of Richmond had only one child, viz., Henry,
Earl of Richmond, afterwards King Henry VIL., by her marriage with
Edmund, Earl of Richmond; and she had not any children either by
her second or third husband, as if, to use the words of Sandford, in his
‘Genealogical History,’ p. 319, ‘she had been designed to be the
mother of a king onely.’ She lived to see her son Henry VII. and
her grandson Henry VIII. successively kings, and died in the first year
of the reign of the latter, on the 3rd of July, 1509, and was buried in
Westminster Abbey.

The fatal error which Richard committed was, previously to the
battle, in entrusting the levying of forces to Lord Stanley, when he
could not confidently trust him. Richard imagined that, by retaining
in his custody George, Lord Strange, the son of Lord Stanley, by way
of hostage, he had sufficient security for his fidelity; but the result
shewed how frail and deceptive such a security really was.

Richard on the 16th of August led his army from Nottingham to
Leicester, which town he entered with great pomp. On the 17th he
marched from it, expecting to meet his rival at Hinckley. ‘That night
he passed at Emsthorpe, where his officers slept in the church. On
the 18th he removed to Stepleton, where he pitched his camp on the
ground called Bradshaws, and remained until Sunday, the 21st, when
both armies came in sight of each other. In the evening Richard
removed with his forces to Ambien Hill.’

On the 22nd the battle took place.

Mr. Hutton states that “ the king continued in battalia near the top
of the hill, unwilling to lose his advantageous ground, while Henry
unfurled his banners, sounded the march of death, and advanced from
the meadows below ;”* also that Richmond ‘“ slowly marched up the
ascent where the wood now stands, the morass formed by King Richard's
well being on his right, and the sun, not on his back or his right hand,
but between both, the king’s troops looking on with their bows bent.”*
That account with respect to the position of the sun when the battle
commenced differs in a slight degree from the accounts of the old
historians, who state that when Henry left the marsh on his right he
had the sun at his back, and that it was in the face of his enemies.*

1 Hutton's “ Bosworth Field” (additional particulars), pp. 196, 197. Baker, in his
“ Chronicles,” calls the hill “Anne Beam;" and, considering the age when he wrote, the
spelling is not so very much amiss. This is now called Ambien Hill, and also Amyon Hill.

? Ibid., p. 94.
* Hutton's “ Bosworth Field,” p.97. * Hall, Holinshed, Grafton, Baker, Speed, Stow.

35

Those accounts seem to be all that we have to guide us as to the pre-
cise position of Richard’s army when the battle commenced, for the old
historians have not devoted their attention to describing it.

This position upon the hill was certainly, as Mr. Hutton correctly
states, an excellent one, and Henry must have begun the attack at
some disadvantage, for the hill was against him.’

The old historical writers state that, when Henry marched from his
camp to the attack, he left the morass on his right,” which is important,
and tends to confirm the explanation before attempted respecting the
position of Richard’s army. Mr. Hutton mentions that Henry ad-
vanced from the south end of the field,? and that Richard’s forces were
posted in battalia upon Amyon Hill.t If so, it seems tolerably clear
that Henry’s army faced, as has already. been mentioned, to the north-
eastward, and that of Richard to the south-westward; and it appears
naturally to follow, that Richard had the town of Market Bosworth, or
the village of Sutton Cheney, or both of them, in his rear, or rather in
the rear of his left wing.

It is remarkable that, in Mr. Hutton’s plan of the field of battle, at
page 1, Henry’s army is drawn as facing towards the south-eastward,
and Richard's army is delineated facing towards the north-westward,
with Market Bosworth at a distance in advance of his right, and with
Sutton Cheney rather to the rear of his right, and with his left extended
towards the well, but with Lord Stanley’s forces interposed between it
and the King’s army; yet, in the other plan, delineated by Mr, Pridden,
and introduced by J. Nicholls, F.S.A., into the work at page 244,
Henry’s army is depicted facing to the north-eastward, and the army of
Richard is delineated as facing to the south-westward (which seems to
be probable), and with Sutton Cheney to the rear of his left, and with
King Richard’s Well between the two armies, and rather before Richard’s
right centre.

With respect to the tradition that Richard quenched his thirst at the
well during the battle, I have merely to remark, that it was an impro-
bable circumstance to have occurred in such a place.

In the army of King Richard, the Duke of Norfolk and his son, the
Earl of Surrey, had the honour of leading the van, consisting princi-
pally of archers, the main body (or the ‘“ Main Battle,” as it was at

1 Hutton, p. 96. -

2 Hall, Holinshed, Grafton, Baker, Speed, Stow. It must be borne in mind that the
morass formed part of what is at present the wood, and that a portion of the latter extends
nearly to the well: Henry's army, in advancing, would naturally bear away a little to the
left, in order to avoid the morass.

% Hutton's “ Boswerth Field,” p. 69.
* Hatton's “ Bosworth Field,” pp. 87—94.

36

that time called,) was led by the King in person, and the rear was
commanded by the Earl of Northumberland.

The van of the Earl of Richmond’s army, consisting also prin-
cipally of archers, was commanded by the Earl of Oxford, the main
body by the Earl of Richmond and his uncle, Jasper, Earl of Pembroke,
the right wing by Sir Gilbert Talbot, and the left by Sir John Savage.

Cannons and other descriptions of fire-arms were in common use by
the English in war at that period, and we cannot dispute the fact of
their having been used at the Battle of Bosworth, because we know,
from the accounts handed down to us by Philippe de Commines, the
historian, that the King of France, besides advancing money, furnished
the Earl of Richmond with some pieces of artillery for his expedition
against Richard, “‘une bonne somme d’ argent, et quelques pieces d’
artillerie, et ainsi fut conduict, avec le navire de Normandie, pour
descendre en Galles, dont il estoit ;”’* besides which, guns are mentioned
in the act of attainder of 1st Henry VII.,° passed against the adherents
of Richard who took part in the battle; and cannon balls of a small size
have been dug up upon Bosworth Field.*

The principal commanders on the part of Richard were the Duke of
Norfolk® (slain in the battle), his son, the Earl of Surrey,® the Earl of

1 Baker in his Chronicles, fol. 232, states that Richard's “ Vanguard was led by the Duke
of Norfolk, which consisted of one thousand two hundred bowmen, flanked with two hundred
cuyrassiers, under the conduct of the Earl of Surrey ; the battel King Richard led himself,
which consisted of a thousand billmen, empaled with two thousand pikes; the rere-ward was
led by Sir Thomas Brackenbury, consisting of two thousand mingled weapons, with two wings
of horsemen, containing fifteen hundred, all of them cast into square maniples, expecting the
Lord Stanley's coming with two thousand, most of them horsemen.” Instead of Sir Thomas
Brackenbury, Baker probably meant Sir Robert Brackenbury, who lost his life in the
battle; but in either case he appears to be in error as to the commander of the rear of
Richard's army, which, not only other old historians, but even Baker, on the next page,
states to have been commanded by the Earl of Northumberland. “In this battel, Henry,
Earl of Northumberland, who led king Richard’s rere-ward, never strook stroke."—Baker,
fol. 233.

2 Philippe de Commines, 5me. livre, fo. 151.

3 Rot. Parl. 1, Henry VII., (A.D. 1485,) vol. 6, folios 275 and 276.

4 Hutton’s “ Bosworth Field,” pp. 82 and 97.

5 John Howard was a son of Sir Robert Howard, by Margaret, daughter of Thomas
Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, and was‘a faithful supporter of Edward IV., who created him a
Baron in 1461. Richard III. created him Duke of Norfolk on the 14th of June, 1483 :
he had the honour of being placed in the vanguard of Richard's army at the Battle of
Bosworth.

6 Thomas Howard, son of John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, before mentioned, was created
Earl of Surrey in the first year of Richard III.; he also had the honour of having a
principal command in Richard's vanguard, and, according to some accounts he was taken
prisoner, but according to others he escaped frum the field, and afterwards, upon an amnesty
being published, he submitted to Henry. He was imprisoned for a considerable period, but
was at length reconciled to Henry VII., and was made Lord Treasurer of England in the
16th year of his reign, and was created Duke of Norfolk in 1514, the fifth year of the reign of
Henry VIII.

37

Northumberland,? Francis, Viscount Lovel,? John, Lord Zouch,® Walter,
Lord Ferrers of Chartley,* Sir Richard Ratcliffe,’ Sir Gervase Clifton,’
and Sir Robert Brackenbury;’ all the four last mentioned commanders

were slain in the battle.
The principal commanders on Henry’s part were the Earl of Pem-
broke,® the Earl of Oxford,? Sir William Brandon,” who was Henry’s

1 Henry Percy, fourth Earl of Northumberland of that name, was the son and heir of
Henry Percy, third Earl of Northumberland, slain at the Battle of Towton, At the
Battle of Bosworth he commanied the rear of Richard's army, but he is considered to
have been luke warm and indifferent, and his forces are said not to have struck a blow; he
immediately submitted to Henry, and was taken into favour by him, and was made one of his
privy council, and was slain in the fourth year of his reign, at a place called Cock Edge,
near Thirsk, in Yorkshire, by the populace, in an insurrection, on account of a tax imposed
by Parliament, which the king had ordered him to levy.

2 Francis, Viscount Lovel, escaped from Bosworth Field, and fought at the Battle of
Stoke in 1487, and was slain there, or at least never appeared afterwards.

8 John, Lord Zouch, was attainted for taking part with Richard at the Battle of Bosworth,
but his attainder was reversed in 4th Henry VII. See Rot. Parl. 4, Henry VII. (a.p. 1488),
vol. vi., fo. 24; and 11th Henry VIL. (a.p. 1495), vol. vi., fo. 484. He died in the fourth or
fifth year of Edward VI.

+ Sir Walter Devereux, in twenty-sixth year of Henry VI., married Anne, sole daughter
and heiress of William, Lord Ferrers of Chartley, in Staffurdshire, she being then aged
eleven years and eight months; had livery of her lands, and in 1st Edward IV. he was ad-
vanced to the dignity of a baron, by the title of Lord Ferrers. At his death at Bosworth
Field he left by his wife Anne a son, John, who succeeded him in his title and honours.

* Probably of the family of the Ratcliffes, Barons Yitzwalter.

© Sir Geryase Clifton was of an ancient family in Nottinghamshire, of which the members
still remain settled in that county. His father, Sir Gervase Clifton, fought on the Lan-
castrian side at the Battle of Tewkesbury, and was afterwards executed there.

7 Sir Robert Brackenbury was Constable of the Tower of London and Master of the
Mint. He stood high ia the estimation of Richard III., who employed him in several
matters of importance.

® Jasper (called of Hatfield), Earl of Pembroke, afterwards Duke of Bedford. He, with
his nephew, the Earl of Richmond, commanded the main body at the Battle of Bosworth.

® John De Vere, 13th Earl of Oxford. He was the son of John De Vere, Earl of
Oxford (beheaded in the first year of Edward IV.), and of Elizabeth, daughter of Sir
John Howard, the younger; and was a staunch Lancastrian, fought on the part of
Henry VI. at the Battle of Barnet in 1471, afterwards held St. Michael’s Mount, on
the coast of Cornwall, against Edward IV., and on its surrender was sent prisoner
to the Castle of Hammes, in Pickardy. He was attainted in the fourteenth year of
Edward IV, He afterwards escaped from Hammes, and joined Henry, Earl of
Richmond, whom he accompanied to England in 1485, and commanded the yan of
Richmond’s army, consisting principally of archers, at the Battle of Bosworth. After
the accession to the throne of Henry VII. he was restored to his rank and possessions,
was joint commander with Jasper, Duke of Bedford, against the Earl of Lincoln at
the Battle of Stoke, and also held a joint command with him of the forces sent by
Henry VIL. in aid of the Emperor Maximilian against the French ; and was also, in
the twelfth year of Henry VIL, one of the chief commanders against Lord Audley
and the insurgents at the Battle of Blackheath. In the first year of Henry VIII. he
obtained a confirmation of the office of Lord Chamberlain. He married first Margaret,
daughter of Richard, Earl of Salisbury, and secondly Elizabeth, daughter of Sir
Richard Scrope, and widow of William, Viscount Beaumont, and died on the 10th

F

38

standard bearer, Sir Gilbert Talbot,? of Grafton, in Worcestershire, Sir
John Savage,? Sir John Byron,® and, at an opportune time after the
battle had commenced, Lord Stanley. The only person of note of
Henry’s army who was slain in the battle, was Sir William Brandon,
his standard bearer; and historians inform us that he was slain by
Richard, with his’own hand. Richard made a courageous and intrepid

of March, in the fourth year of Henry VIII., without leaving any living issue, and
was succeeded by his nephew, John De Vere.

10 Sir William Brandon was the son of Sir William Brandon, by Elizabeth, daughter
of Sir Robert Wingfield, and was with his brother, Thomas Brandon, concerned in
the insurrection of the Duke of Buckingham against Richard III., in 1843, .Upon
its miscarriage, the brothers fled into Brittany. After the death of Sir William at
Bosworth Field, Thomas was made one of the Esquires of the Body of Henry VII.,
and had the honour of carrying his buckler at the Battle of Stoke ; and about the
end of his reign was made a Knight of the Garter. He died in the first year of
Henry VIII., and left a son, who was created Viscount Lisle in the fifth year of
Wenry VIII., and afterwards raised to the dignity of Duke of Suffolk.

1 Sir Gilbert Talbot was the brother of John, third Earl of Shrewsbury, and uncle
and guardian of George, fourth Earl of Shrewsbury, then a minor, and commanded
Henry’s right wing at the Battle of Bosworth.

2 Sir John Savage, commonly called ‘‘ Sir John Savage, Junior,’’ of Clifton, now
usually called Rock Savage, in Cheshire, was a nephew of Thomas, Lord Stanley,
and had the command of Henry’s left wing at the Battle of Bosworth. He was made
a Knight of the Garter by Henry VII., and was slain at the Siege of Boulogne in
1492.—Stow’s '‘ Annals,’’ fos, 469 and 488. Ormerod’s ‘‘ Cheshire,’’ voli., pp. 525
and 527.

® He died in 1488, without issue, leaving a brother, Sir Nicholas Byron, his heir,
who was the ancestor of the late Lord Byron, the celebrated poet.

4 Thomas, Lord Stanley. There is a very remarkable peculiarity connected with
Lord Stanley’s (and the same observation applies in some degree also to Sir William
Stanley’s) defection from Richard, and with his joining the Earl of Richmond, which
has never been explained, as far as lamaware, by any author. Richard thought that he
would secure Lord Stanley in his interest by conferring benefits upon him, and made
him Constable of England for life, with an annuity of £100 per year, payable out of
the revenue of the County of Lancaster, and created him a Knight of the Garter.
The reasons usually assigned by historians for Lord Stanley’s defection are, his
attachment to the memory of Edward IV., and his being faithful to the young King
Edward V.; the attempt believed to have been made by Richard to cause him to be
destroyed at the Council (when Lord Hastings was siezed and beheaded), in 1488 ; and
his being then committed to prison for a time by Richard; all which are said to have
rankled in his mind, besides the influence which his wife exercised over him in favour
of the Earl of Richmond, Lord Stanley having married to his second wife the Countess
of Richmond, the mother of the Earl. The date of Lord Stanley’s marriage with
the Countess of Richmond does not appear to be stated in the baronages, but it cer-
tainly occurred at least ten years before the reign of Richard III., because the
Countess of Richmond is mentioned as being the wife of Lord Stanley in Rot. Parl.,
13th Edward IV. (1473), vol. fo., p. 77. No plan for an insurrection could be better
arranged than that of the Duke of Buckingham in the the first year of Richard III,
(1483), yet nothing could have worse success. But, if Lord Stanley and his brother, Sir
William Stanley, had brought forward their power, and had taken an active part in
it, the probability is, that Richard would at that time have been dethroned. Neither
Lord Stanley nor Sir William Stanley, however, appears to have taken the slightest

39

charge’ and attempt, with some of his forces, to cut his way to Henry,
and to terminate the battle by despatching him, and in his charge slew
Sir William Brandon and unhorsed Sir John Cheney. Richard's
daring enterprise at first seemed likely to be attended with success,
but was frustrated by Sir William Stanley,? who then declared for
Henry, and threw the weight of three thousand fresh soldiers into the
scale of the latter, and attacked Richard’s right flank.

This appears to have been the important period of the battle alluded
to by Shakespeare—

Catesby—“ Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk! Rescue! Rescue !
The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger ;
His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death.
Rescue, fair Lord, or else the day is lost.”
Shakespeare's Richard III, Act v. sc. 4th, (Bosworth Field).

It was ata critical moment that Sir William Stanley declared for
Henry, because if he had deferred his aid a very short time longer, he
might have deferred it for ever, for fortune seemed at that moment to
be propitious to Richard’s enterprise and invincible courage; and Henry
was in the utmost danger, and it was probable that he must either have
perished or fled.

The consequence of Sir William Stanley's opportune and most valu-
able assistance was, that Richard and most of the noblemen, knights,
and soldiers, who accompanied him in the charge, were surrounded
by superior numbers and slain, and Henry obtained the victory.®

It is not known with any degree of certainty what the respective

step, or to have been in any shape concerned in that insurrection; yet precisely tho
same reasons which are assigned for Lord Stanley’s defection from Richard at the
Battle of Bosworth, in 1485, appear equally to apply to influence him in 1483, when
the Duke of Buckingham took up arms, It is very difficult to account for Lord
Stanley’s then remaining quiescent, unless we may infer that there was a feeling
of jealousy in his mind, and that he suspected that as the Duke of Buckingham was a
more powerful nobleman than himself, and was of the blood royal of England, it was
possible that he might, if successful, claim the crown in his own right, or that Lord
Stanley did not consider that the feeling of the noblemen and gentry against Richard
was then sufficiently ripe or decided for an insurrection; or that he was watching
events, with the purpose of adhering at last to the strongest.

1 When Richard made his charge, it should seem that he advanced from his right
centre, because the ancient historians state that he ‘‘rode out of the syde of the
range of his battaile’’—Hall, fo. 34, Grafton, fo. 851; ‘‘ Rode out of the side of the
range of his battel'—Holinshed, fo. 759,

* Sir William Stanley, whose services so opportunely given, and of such inestimable
value, was requited by Henry’s putting him to death in 1495, on a very questionable
and frivolous charge.

* The historical authorities for this paper are Hall, Holinshed, Grafton, Baker,
Speed, Stow, Dugdale, Sandford, and Rot. Parl. vol. vi.

40

numbers were in the hostile armies, but it is supposed upon reasonable
grounds, that Richard brought into the field about 12,000 men; that
Henry brought 7,000; Lord Stanley 5,000; and Sir William Stanley
3,000 ; consequently Richard’s forces were considerably more numerous
than his enemy’s at. the commencement of the battle, but were consi-
derably out-numbered by those on the side of Henry, after Lord Stanley
and Sir William Stanley had joined him.

Authors differ very much respecting the number of the slain; some
state it to have been very considerable; Mr. Hutton on the contrary
inclines to think that it was only about nine hundred on both sides,’
of which by far the greatest carnage was in the pursuit. Probably his
estimate is too low, but as the battle did not last very long, and as the
principal part of Richard’s forces were indifferent or reluctant to
fight in his cause, it may perhaps be reasonably inferred that the
slain did not very greatly exceed that number. Hall, Holinshed,
and Grafton, concur in stating, that the number of the slain was not
much more than a thousand, which may probably be correct.

Henry with great pomp proceeded the same evening to Leicester.
Richard's corpse was found amongst the slain, covered with wounds,
dirt, and blood, and was hung, perfectly naked, across a horse, the feet
dangling on one side and the hands on the other, behind Blane Sang-
lier, Pursuivant at Arms, so called from the boar argent, the cog-
nizance of Richard, and was carried in triumph to Leicester that
afternoon. This disgusting spectacle was meant as a disgrace to
Richard, but it was really a disgrace to Henry. Insults offered by the
victor to the corpse of a soldier slain in battle, be he whom he may,
evince a great degree of meanness or cowardice on the part of the
former. The body was exposed to public view during two days in the
Town Hall, and was then interred in the Grey Friars’ Church. At
the destruction of religious houses, his remains were turned out of it
by the town’s people, and there is reason to believe that they were got
rid of by being thrown into the river at the end of Bow Bridge, at
Leicester ; “‘ borne out of the city, and contemptuously bestowed under
the end of Bow Bridge, which giveth passage over a branch of Stoure,
upon the west side of the towne.”* A stone coffin in which they had
originally been deposited was converted into a watering trough at the
White Horse Inn, in Gallow Tree Gate, and was, early in the last
century, broken to pieces.‘

1 Hutton's “ Boswortth Field,” p. 75.

2 Hutton’s “‘ Bosworth Field,”’ p. 129,

3 Speed’s “ Annals,’ fo. 936; see also Thorsby's “ Views in Leicestershire," p. 338.

* Baker, p. 235; Stow; Hutton, p. 143; Sandford’s “ Genealogical History,” p. 410,

Al

Happening to be in Leicester on the 5th of June, 1856, I did not
omit to inquire for the Grey Friars’ Church, but although I disco-
yered the street where it had stood, I found that every vestige of
the church had disappeared.

There is a very absurd but very common mistake, arising from the
ignorance of authors, in stating that Richard wore his royal crown
upon his helmet, during the battle. Nothing can be more erroneous
than such a statement. Richard was too old and experienced a soldier
to put such a head-gear upon his helmet, nor could a real crown
screwed to or fastened upon a helmet, be worn for any rational purpose
during a battle. He, however, wore, as a distinguishing mark, and as
an emblem of command, a comparatively small ornament, resembling
a crown, upon his helmet, which was not at all strange or unprece-
dented, on the contrary it was formerly a common practice. King
Henry V. wore a similar ornament upon his helmet at the battle of Agin-
court, in 1415, which was of some use in sustaining the stroke of a battle-
axe from the Duke of Alengon, which cleft it; and Thomas, Duke of
Clarence, second son of Henry IV., wore a coronet or circlet upon his
helmet when he was fighting valiantly and slain at the battle of Baugy,
in France, in 1421; besides which there are many monuments, which
I have seen in English cathedrals and churches, where the figures of
warriors and men of rank are represented, with ornaments resembling
small crowns or coronets upon their helmets.

The account of the battle and the description of the field having
been so fully given in the interesting work already mentioned, it would
be superfluous for me to attempt to go into further particulars; I may,
however, add that the battle terminated in the defeat and death of
Richard, rather in consequence of the defection of Lord Stanley and
his brother, Sir William Stanley, and the indifference or disaffection of
others whom Richard relied upon, than of any valour or skill in Henry
or his army.

Henry was immediately saluted as King of England by his forces,
and without waiting for the ratification of his claim by parliament,
or any other recognised authority, assumed the title of Henry
VIL., and scorning to be less tyrannical, or less wicked than his prede-
cessor, commenced his reign by putting to death, without any trial, and
in cold blood, two days after the battle, William Catesby? and two gen-

1 Hutton’s “ Bosworth Field.”

2 William Catesby was a lawyer of eminence in the reign of Richard III., was one
of his chief counsellors, and was the Speaker of the House of Commons in the only par-
liament held in the reign of Richard III, He was a descendant from an ancient family at

Lapworth, near Birmingham. He is usually called Sir William Catesby by historians,
but is certainly only treated as an esquire, not asa knight, in the act of attainder, Ist

42

tlemen from the north of the name of Brecher, who had been taken
prisoners; and sentencing to imprisonment for life in the tower an
innocent and defenceless boy, Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick,
whose only crime was his being the son of George, Duke of Clarence,
and the only surviving male of the royal house of Plantagenet, and
whom Henry very wickedly at last put to death in 1499. Henry also
caused an act of attainder? to be passed by parliament, shortly after the
battle, in which he had a great number of persons who had been the
subjects and adherents of Richard III. attainted and declared guilty of
high treason, and all their lands and possessions confiscated, on the
alleged ground of their support of Richard against Henry; although
Henry had never, previously to the Battle of Bosworth, been recognised
as King, nor had he even assumed the royal title or functions. It was,
therefore, not only an iniquitous proceeding, but was an insult to the
understandings of men, to treat any acts done by any persons in the ser-
vice of the then reigning king, at the Battle of Bosworth, as treasonable
actions committed against Henry. Those attainders and confiscations
affecting, as they did, the lives and property of many persons whom
Henry wished to destroy, or crush, were acts of gross despotism and
tyranny.”

Many years ago I saw in the collection of Colonel Stretton, of Lenton
Priory, in Nottinghamshire, some spurs and bridle bits, said to be relics
of Bosworth Field; and Grose, in his Military Antiquities, gives an
engraving of a helmet found there.’

Many relics of the battle are described in Mr. Hutton’s work, which
had been discovered there; besides which, human bones were found
about four years ago, in cutting a drain in a field in front of the farm
house standing upon the slope of the hill, and called Amyon Hill Farm,
mentioned before, belonging to Mr. Stuart, and occupied by Mr. Brad-
field. The field where they were discovered adjoins that in which
King Richard’s Well is.

Mr. John Rubley, informed me that he found, not many years

Henry VIl.—see Rot. Parl., 1 Henry VII. (4.p. 1485), vol. vi, fo. 275; and in the
act of the reversal of the attainder in favour of his son and heir, George Catesby, in
the eleventh year of the reign of Henry VII.—see Rot. Parl., 11 Henry VII. (4.p. 1495),
vol, vi., fo. 490, in which the latter is called, the son and heir ‘‘of William Catysby,
Squier,’’ which seems tolerably conclusive of his not haying been knighted.

1 Rot. Parl., 1 Henry VII. (in November, 1485), vol. v., p. 276.

2 Asif to make the injustice and mockery of such a proceeding the more glaring,
the act of parliament states the battle to have been fought in the first year of Henry’s
reign (1485) ; but it might perhaps have perplexed Henry, to have asked, him at what
exact date the first year of his reign commenced, and how men could commit treason
against him before the commencement of it.

3 Grose’s ‘‘ Military Antiquities,’’ vol. ii., p. 356, and plate 30.

43

ago, a sword hilt upon the field of battle, which was afterwards given
to Mr. Stuart.

There are also a few relics of the battle preserved in the public
museum at Leicester.

Persons desirous of visiting the field of battle will find it expedient to
go from Atherstone to Shenton; and soon after passing that village,
instead of pursuing the road to Market Bosworth, to turn off to the
right, by the road which leads from Shenton to Sutton Cheney, until
they arrive at a large farm on the left, called Sutton Field Farm, occu-
pied by Mr. Cooper, a considerable farmer. ‘They should then turn off
to the right into a field road (which is passable in a carriage, but is not
a good one for that purpose, and, therefore, walking is preferable), which
ascends the northward side of Amyon Hill, frequently mentioned before,
and cross its summit, and on the slope of the hill, on its southward side,
is Amyon Hill Farm (which is upon the field of battle), and close to it,
in an adjoining field, is King Richard’s Well. It is covered in with a
- small pyramid built of rough stones, but is open on its south front, and
on the inner wall, opposite to the open part, is the following inscription,
cut in small Roman characters, from the pen of the reverend and

learned Dr. Parr :—
AQVA EX HOC PYTEO HAVSTA

SITIM SEDAVIT
RICARDVS TERTIVS REX ANGLIAE
CVYM HENRICO COMITE DE RICHMONDIA
ACERRIME ATQVE INFENSISSIME PRAELIANS
ET VITA PARITER AC SCEPTRO
ANTE NOCTEM CARITVRYS
XI KAL. SEPT. A.D. MCCCCLXXXY.

The Battle of Bosworth is often called the last of the wars of York
and Lancaster. Thatisanerror. The last battle in those wars, was
the Battle of Stoke, fought in 1487.

It is a lamentable fact, that deeds of violence and bloodshed on a large
scale, did not cease in England with the death of the last Plantaganet
king. During the reign of the two first Tudor kings, the crimes and
offences disclosed by history, are so shocking as to make us amazed at
the wickedness and cruelty of man.

Although the habits and characters of Richard III. and of Henry
VII. were widely different, each was sufficiently iniquitous in its
way, and it would be a task of great difficulty for any well-read
historian to decide which of those two men was the most wicked.’

» Mr. Hutton’s contrast of their characters contains much truth—‘“ But, were I
allowed to treat royalty with plainness, Richard was an accomplished rascal, and
Henry not one jot better.’’—Hutton’s ‘‘ Bosworth Field,” p. 73.

44

Both of them were usurpers, and neither of them had any legal right
to the throne ; and if they had lived nearer these times, and in humble ©
life, it is not improbable that the intrepid disposition and invincible
courage of Richard, might have made him a daring robber or highway-
man; and the mean and avaricious propensities of Henry might have
caused him to become an adroit pickpocket or sordid miser.

It was very much the fashion for historical writers who lived in the
times of the Tudor sovereigns, in order to court popularity with them,
to calumnate Richard, blacken his memory, and in their accounts of
him, to represent him as a kind of monster, deformed in person and
malignant in mind, with not a few other strange assersions, which
subsequent generations have been induced to consider either as ab-
surdities or exaggerations.

Upon a cool and dispassionate comparison, however, of the characters
of Richard III. and Henry VII., both of them wicked and unscrupulous
men, the contrast is not favourable to Henry. Richard committed san-
guinary crimes in order to obtain the crown, but even his enemies do
not accuse him of any tyrannical actions as a king; Henry had not the
opportunity of perpetrating such offences before he obtained the crown,
but history is replete with instances of his tyranny and injustice during
the whole of his life, after he became a king. Richard possessed great
talents and natural capacity, but his reign was so short, that he had not
many opportunities of evincing his abilities for exercising the royal
functions, yet he passed some excellent laws for the benefit of his sub-
jects; Henry was sagacious and clever in many respects, and during
his rather long reign, he also passed some very good laws; but, as has
been correctly observed, his laws were ever calculated with a view to
his own profit; he encouraged commerce as it improved his customs,
and brought money in to his subjects, which he could squeeze out
at pleasure. Richard was munificent and liberal; Henry was mean
and avariciotis. Richard was bold, enterprising, and courageous ;
Henry was timorous, selfish, and cautious. Richard and Henry,
however, closely resembled each other in one respect; each of them
was unscrupulous, and did not hesitate, without remorse, to put to
death a fellow-creature who had incurred his displeasure, or was an
obstacle to the success of his measures.

Richard is believed to have murdered his nephews, Edward V., and
the young Duke of York; and Henry is known to have inhumanly and
very wickedly put to death Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick; an
action which has been properly designated “as vile a murder as that of
Edward V.; nay, were it possible to speak in palliation of this worst of

1 Carte, vol. ii., p. 866,

45

crimes, Richard was the least culpable, for he had one temptation
which Henry had not ; Edward V. had an absolute right to the crown,
but Warwick only a shadow.”*

The crime of illegally depriving a human being of life is very
solemnly reprobated by Shakspeare, in his usual beautiful and power-
ful language—

«Erroneous vassal! the great King of Kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded,
That thou shalt do no murder. Wilt thou then
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man’s?
Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand,
To hurl upon their heads that break his law.”?

EXTRAORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Insruziron, on the 17th of November, 1856,
Dr. INMAN Presrpent, in the chair.

The Council having recommended that ten guineas be paid during the
current Session to a Professional Reporter for Reports of the Society’s
Meetings, this was unanimously carried. The resolution was subse-
quently confirmed at a Second Extraordinary Meeting held on the
Ist of December; and the Council thereafter adopted the Liverpool
Courier as the medium of making public the Society’s proceedings.

THIRD ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Instirution, on the 17th of November, 1856,
Dr. INMAN, PrestpEnt, in the chair,

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—

Cuarites TINLING,
Joun Marrin Bricuouse.
WiturAm Henry Broapsent, M.D.
Rev. P. F. J. B. Harys,
RonaLtp Livinestone,
JosEPH JOBSON.

2 Hutton’s ‘“ Bosworth Field,”’ p. 179.

2 Shakespeare’s ‘‘ Richard III.,’’ Act i, Scene 4,

G

46

The Cuarrman announced the opening of the Museum of Applied
Science, and invited the members to inspect it at the close of the
meeting.

Mr. Cunninenam, F.G.S., exhibited several fossils, which were
presented to the Royal Institution Museum. Among these were
sandstone from Grinshill Quarries, in Shropshire, containing impres-
sions of showers of ancient rain in relief, and also the converse; i.e. the
veritable pit marks produced by the falling rain, when the sand was in
a soft and incoherent condition. Casts of sun cracks in the sand,
beautifully preserved, were also seen in the same specimens. He pre-
sented a slah of siliceous limestone, which he found on the shore near
the Menai Suspension Bridge, containing a beautiful impression of
the nondescript animal, called a nereite, which he supposed to be the
Crossopodid Seotica. ‘This slab, although found mixed loosely up with
others belonging to the lower beds of the carboniferous group, found in
that place in situ, belongs to the lower silurian formation, and must
have been transported from a considerable distance. He also exhibited
another slab, detached from a stratum of limestone in situ, near to
where the other specimens were found, containing a petrified sponge in
beautiful preservation. The upper surface of the strata, from which
the specimen was detached, was covered with these zoophytes, as they
originally grew to the extent of from twelve to fourteen feet in length,
and from three to four feet in width.

Mr. T. C. Arcuer exhibited a sample of the seed vessels of the
Ptelea trifoliata, a North American shrub, which had just been added
to the new Museum of Science and Art in connexion with the Royal
Institution. It was so very much like the hop that it might be intro-
duced with very good effect as a substitute for it, and was well
calculated to become a valuable article of commerce. It possessed,
even in a more remarkable degree than the hop, the pure and agreeable
bitter which is the peculiar property of that plant. He observed Mr.
Nuttall, of Rainhill, present, who was doubtless well acquainted with it.

Mr. Nurratt assented. He had seen it growing and flowering very
freely in the gardens about St. Helens.

The papers of the evening were then read, as follows :—

ON HORACE’S ODE, “IN ARCHYTAM.”—Carm. Liz. I., 28.
By WILLIAM IHNE, Esq., Pu.D., V.P.

“Te maris et terre numeroque carentis arene
Mensorum cohibent, Archyta,
Pulveris exigui prope litus parva Matinum
Munera, nec quidquam tibi prodest
Aérias tentasse domos, animoque rotundum

a

he

47

Pereurrisse polum, morituro.
Occidit et Pelopis genitor, conviva deorum,
Tithonusque remotus in auras.
Et Jovis arcanis Minos admissus; habentque
Tartara Panthoiden iterum Orco 10
Demissum, quamvis clipeo Troiana refixo
Tempora testatus nihil ultra
Nervos atque cutem morti concesserat atrie,
Judice te non sordidus anctor
Nature verique. Sed omnes una manet nox, 15
Et calcanda semel via leti.
Dant alios Furix torvo spectacula Marti;
Exitio est avidum mare nautis ;
Mixta senum ac juvenum densentur funera, nullum
Seva caput Proserpina fugit.
Me quoque devexi rapidus comes Orionis
Illyricis Notus obruit undis.
At tu, nauta, vagee ne parce malignus arene
Ossibus et capiti inhumato
Particulam dare. Sic, quodeunque minabitur Eurus 25
Fluctibus Hesperiis, Venusinse
Plectantur silvae te sospite, multaque merces
Unde potest, tibi defluat sequo
Ab Jove, Neptunoque sacri custode ‘larenti.
Negligis immeritis nocituram 30
Postmodo te natis frandem committere? Fors et
Debits jura yvicesque superbe
Te maneant ipsum: precibus non linquar inultis,
Teque piacula nulla resolvent.
Quamquam festinas, non est mora longa; Llicebit
Injecto ter pulvere curras.”

20

o
0

Thus translated in the metre of the original—

Ocean and earth and the numberless sand thou hast counted and measured ;
Yet here art thou confined, Archytas,

Under a handful of dust, on the shore of Matinum, a trifling

Gift of a generous hand. It avails thee

Nothing to have soared up to the stars and attempted the heavens 5
All to explore with thy mind, though a mortal;

Thus died Tantalus too, though the guest of the gods, and Tithonus

Though to Olympus exalted, and Minos

Trusted with Jupiter’s councils ; and Panthous’ son Euphorbos

Twice sank down to Tartarean darkness, — 10
Though from his shield unfixed he proved his Dardanian lineage,

Yielding to death the destroyer no more than

Sinews and skin; he surely of nature and truth an expounder

Highly esteemed by thee, Archytas.

But for us all is in store one terrible night, and we all must 15
Trayel the darksome road towards Hades.

48

Some are offered as sport to unmerciful Mars by the Furies;

Greedily swallows the ocean the sailor ;

Mixed with the old are the young in the dense-thronged funerals; not one

Ever was spared by unfeeling Proserpine. 20

I too was o’erwhelmed in Illyria’s sea by the south wind,

Boist’rous companion of setting Orion.

But, O sailor, be not unkind, nor grudge me a handful

- Sand for my head and my bones unburied.

Then, if the east wind rages and roars on Hesperian waters, 25

May the Venusian forests be shattered,

But thou ever remain unhurt, and ever abundant

Gain be showered on thee from Jove and

Neptune, the guardian god of the hallowed town of Tarentum.

Reck’st thou not, thy innocent children, 30

Still unborn, to involve in the guilt of thy own transgression ?

Dire retribution perchance will await thee,

And the deserved reward; my curses are heard, if thou leave me;

And no sacrifice ever will purge thee.

Tarry awhile, however thou hastest, and thrice on my body 35

Sprinkle the dust, then speed on thy voyage.

Dr. Lane then proceeded as follows :—

No ode of Horace is more difficult to explain than the following.
This is the introductory remark of Mr. Newman to his translation, and
of all commentators, ancient and modern. But the difficulty is of
their own making; it is the result of too much ingenuity and of too free
a play of fancy. They will have it, that this ode is a dialogue between
the shade of Archytas, the philosopher, who was drowned in the
Adriatic, and a mayiner coasting along the shore. ‘The first six lines
are attributed to the latter, and the remainder to the Tarentine sage.
That this view is entirely untenable I shall endeavour to show first, and
then to give what I consider the right explanation.

The first six lines are thus translated by Francis :—

“Archytas, what avails thy nice survey
Of ocean’s countless sands, of earth and sea?
In vain thy mighty spirit once could soar
To orbs celestial and their course explore ;
If here, upon the tempest-beaten strand f
Thou liest confined, till some more liberal hand
Shall strew the pious dust in funeral rite,
And wing thee to the boundless realms of light.”

The last two lines and a half, which are a perfectly gratuitous addition
‘to the original, have the effect of begging the question, that poor
Archytas, at the time of the supposed dialogue, was lying unburied on
the shore. This is, in truth, what all the commentators require us to
take for granted, for in the second part of the poem, where the mariner
is requested to strew a few handfuls of sand on the dead body, it is

49

Archytas who is supposed to ask for this boon, v. 23. If this latter
supposition were correct, then, of course, the first few verses, in which
Archytas is addressed, must be attributed to some other person, and a
dialogue necessarily would result.

But let us for a moment consider the words and the sense of the
original. How ludicrously absurd is the notion of a corpse lying on
the shore to be recognised by a passing sailor as the body of Archytas!
But let this be explained by some supernatural agency, do the expres-
sions of the original warrant the notion that the philosopher lay
unburied on the shore? ‘“ Te cohibent, Archyta, pulveris exigui parva
munera.” Surely this means, “The small boon of a little sand,
Archytas, confines thee ;” and until yes means no, and no means yes, we
cannot, instead of ‘ The small boon,” say ‘the absence of the small
boon.” There would be an end of all logical interpretation, if at our
will and pleasure we were allowed thus to convert any sentence into the
very opposite by adding or removing a negative. The expression
cohibent (confines), moreover, clearly conveys the idea of sepulchral
rest.* Thus Horace uses it again in the same sense, Od. ii. 20, 8.
“Nec Stygia cohibebor unda.”+

We must, therefore, abide by the conclusion, that whoever addresses
Archytas in these lines does not see his nnburied body, but his tomb,
which in a well-known locality ‘‘ prope litus Matinum,” was familiar to
all who frequented the coast of Southern Italy. In confirmation of
this view we find that stress is laid on the concluding word morituro,
not on the supposed misfortune of Archytas, viz: his lacking the
funeral rites, but on the fact of his being obliged to die, though, like
Tantalus and Minos, he penetrated the secrets of Jupiter in trying to
measure the bounds of the universe.

The last remark leads us to discover another flaw in the usual inter-
pretation of this poem. It points out the close connexion between
verse 7 et seq. and those which precede. ‘The first six verses state a
fact, and the following adduce some striking examples in illustration of
it. By what perversity of ingenuity can anybody break in two this
natural sequence of reflexion, which is all of one piece, in order to
make a dialogue of it! There is no question and answer—no argu-
ment and refutation—no attack and repartee. The whole flows down
like a smooth stream without the least interruption; so that, even if we

* Baxter Las a very good rote on this expression : Cohibent beue et emphatice, per totum
mundum antea vagatum scilicet.

+ The primary signification of cohibere is to confine forcibly. Thus it is used Hor. Od. 8. 4.
80. Pirithoum cohibent catene. Id. Ep, ii. 255; Claustra cohibentia Janum. The idea
of forcible detention is common of death; as Hor. Od. 1. 4.16, Jam te premet nox fabuleeqne
manes et domus exilis Plutonia,

50

were accustomed to dialogues in the odes of Horace, we should not be
justified in supposing this to be one. We might as easily make dia-
logues of Thomson’s ‘‘Seasons,” or Pope's “Essay on Man,” by simply
marking every new paragraph with dramatis persona, as it has been done
in this ode. The difficulty and perplexity of the dialogue theory is
still further increased by verse 14. The shade of the philosopher
speaks of Pythagoras, and, addressing the sailor, says of him, ‘“ Judice
te non sordidus auctor Nature verique”—

Not meanly skilled, even by your own applause,

In moral truth and Nature’s secret laws.

This is rather too much. Imagine the philosopher appealing to a
sailor’s judgment of Pythagoras. As well might a member of this
Society ask a captain of a river flat what he thought of Lord Bacon's
“Novum Organon,” or Newton’s “Principia.” The absurdity presented
in such a supposition is so great, that some editors have adopted the
easy process, by which all hermeneutical difficulties are at once re-
moved, viz.: an alteration in the text. What was easier than to
change te into me, and thus to make the spirit of Archytas say, that in
his (not the sailor's) opinion, Pythagoras was a great philosopher. I
need hardly say no MSS. warrant this arbitrary alteration of the text,
and that the good sense of modern editors has discarded it altogether.

But thus the difliculty remains, and we must try to remove it without
violence to the text, by a simple and natural interpretation.

As we can discover in the poem itself no traces of a dialogue, the
ouly thing we have to do is to find out the person into whose mouth
the poet places the address to Archytas, and the various reflections
resulting from it. Nor is this discovery difficult, for v. 21 designates the
person most distinctly as some other shipwrecked traveller.

Me quoque devexi rapidus comes Orionis

Illyricis Notus obruit undis.
I too was o’erwhelmed in Illyria’s sea by the south wind,
Boist’rous companion of setting Orion.

It is clear that these words cinnot be attributed to Archytas. The
quoque points to another person, and surely it would be too absurd if
Archytas here took the trouble to inform of his misfortune a man who,
as the first few lines of the poem indicate, knew all about him so well.

The body of the person then, designated vy. 21, we must imagine cast
ashore near the well-known grave of Archytas. He recognises it, and
then addressing the philosopher, descants on the inevitable fate of
death. Then, v. 23, he abruptly turns with 4¢ tu to a mariner, and
implores him to perform the funeral rites on him, and by this act of
piety to earn the reward of the gods.

“ 51
This conception of the poem is extremely simple and natural. It
does no violence to any part of the original, requires no forced inter-
pretation, no change in the text ; it is not open to any objections on the
score of inconsistency, improbability, or obscurity ; and I, therefore,
unhesitatingly recommend it to general acceptation.

The second paper of the night was then read,—

UPON THE “SPHGEROBOLUS STELLATUS,”
By tHe Rev. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., V.P.

The author exhibited a drawing of this plant, in various stages of de-
velopment, the several processes of which the reverend gentleman had
had an opportunity of witnessing. He had found the plant, a minute
species of fungus, in the neighbourhood of Huyton Quarry, on the 20th
of September. It was growing on the flat surface of a stump, near
the ground. He took it home, with a portion of the wood on which it
was growing, and placed it on a bed of damp sand, covered with a
glass shade. A cluster of similar plants soon sprang up, and
the mode of growth in a single specimen was this: — At first
appears a little patch of reticulated fibres, the centre of which be-
comes elevated from beneath by the growth of the young plant, which
at length burst through the web and assumes the colour and size of a
grain of mustard seed. Subsequently it becomes ege shaped, and
attains a height of about a line. A star-like fissure now divides the
apex of the plant into five or six equal segments, which fall back like
the petals of a flower and discover the inner or lining membrane,
resembling a minute egg cup, and containing a sporangium or ball of
spores. At the period of maturity this inner membrane suddenly
turns itself inside out, with an audible snap, projecting the sporan-
gium to a distance of several inches. The inside of the glass shade
used as a cover for the plants became spotted with forty or fifty of
these sporangia, which had been ejected with such force as to flatten
them against the glass.

A portion of the spore pulp, under a high magnifier, exhibited innu-
merable minute particles, displaying with great activity the ordinary
Brownian movements. When the pulp was taken from an unripe
sporangium there were also to be seen, by the aid of iodine and a
magnifier with very good power of definition, certain other bodies of a
linear or s!enderly oblong shape, many times the size of the moving
particles, and quite pellucid. These appeared to be attacked and
entered by the particles, but whether the linear bodies afterwards be-
came developed into perfect spores the observer was not able to ascertain.

52

FOURTH ORDINARY MEETING,

Held at the Roya Institution, Ist, December 1856,

THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., Prestwpent, in the chair.

The resignation of Mr. James Miller Shain was received.

The Rev. H. H. Hicerns exhibited some prepared specimens of
Foreign and English Fancywoods, which led to conversations on the
strength of various timbers, and the advantages of poplar for flooring,
that wood being a bad conductor of heat.

Mr. T. C. Arcusr exhibited sections of the Phytolacea decandia
and Phytolacea arborea, showing that the concentric rings were rot, as
in ‘“exogens,” of annual growth.

Dr. THomson exhibited one of a pair of saddle-bags, captured at the
Redan, of Sebastopol, remarkable for its capaciousness and strength,
the property of the Hon. Major Plunkett. Also a Hussar’s Cloak of
great weight and impervious to cold, taken from a Russian in the
Crimea. The exterior was of brown coloured leather ornamented with
stripes of bright red, and the inside was lined with sheep-skin.

The Rev. Joun Rosperps, B.A., read a paper entitled “A Man-
chester Newspaper a Century Ago;” quoting to the Society numerous
passages of local interest, and pointing out the peculiarities of the
publication, and style of newspapers at the time.

FIFTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Insrrrvution, 15th December, 1856, ~
THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., Presipenr, in the chair.

The resignation of Mr. James McCann was received.
The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
Rey. James Enexianp, M.A,
Cart Rerzyac, Ph.D.
Rey. F. Maruzson, B.A.
Dr. Tomson exhibited a model of Goodhall’s Patent Grinding and
Levigating Machine.

Mr. Ricuarp Rarspone exhibited a unique and beautiful walking
stick, fabricated on board a south-sea whaler, of rings of tortoise-shell
upon an iron rod, with an ivory handle made from the tooth of the
whale of the Pacific.

The Rev. J. Ropperps exhibited a leather ring with a case ap-
pended, which, on being cut open, discovered a manuscript written on
bark. It was brought to the country by a Guinea captain, and was
supposed to be a charm.

Mr. T. C. Arcumr exhibited several curious products of the fern
tribe. One called Pu-lu, or vegetable silk, grown by Lady Dorothy
Neyill ; another was a styptic, and believed to be a Cibotium, similar to
the former; the third consisted of rhizomes of the Polypodium
calaguala.

The paper of the evening was then read :—

ON THE PROBABLE PERIOD OF THE EXTINCTION OF
WOLVES, IN ENGLAND.

By RICHARD BROOKE, Esaq., F.S.A.

“Cruel as death and hungry as the grave!
Burning for blood! bony and gaunt, and grim !
Assembling wolves in raging troops descend ;
And pouring o’er the country, bear along,

Keen as the north wind sweeps the glossy snow.
Allis their prize. They fasten on the steed,
Press him to earth, and pierce his mighty heart.
Nor can the bull his awful front defend,

”

Or shake the murd’ring savages away.’—Thomson's “ Winter.”

SevERAL descriptions of savage animals were at one period inhabitants
of Great Britain, which, with the increase of population and civiliza-
tion, have become extinct; amongst which may be mentioned the
wolf, bear,! and wild boar.2 We may, however, perhaps regret the
extinction of other animals which were not of a destructive kind; for
example, the beaver® is generally admitted by naturalists to have been,

1 Pennant’s “ British Zoology,” vol. 1, p. 65.

2 Bell's “British Quadrupeds.” p. 122; Goldsmith's ‘‘ Natural History,” vol. 8, p. 180;
Coke’s “Institutes,” vol. 4, p. 316; Pennant’'s “British Zoology,” vol.1,p.48. By our cruel
forest laws after the conquest, the penalty for killing a stag or boar was the loss of eyes—
Hallam's “ View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages,” vol. 2, 8th edition, 8vo.
p-94. Charles I. turned out wild boars in the new forest, Hampshire, but they were all
destroyed in the civil wars—Pennant's “ British Zovlogy,” vol. 1, p.48. An attempt was
made in the last century to reintroduce wild swine into England, for some were turned loose
by General Howe, in his forests in Hampshire, but the attempt wasa failure, for the country
people destroyed them—Bingley’s “ British Quadrupeds,” p. 449.

% Pennant's “ British Quadrupeds,” vol. 1, p.86. Holinshed, in his Chronicles written in
the reign of Queen Elizabeth, states that the beaver was to be met with in Scotland at the

1B

54

and the roe deer certainly was, formerly, a native of England. The
beaver is no longer to be found amongst us, and the roe deer is not
now to be met with in any part of this country to the south of
Seotland. The latter, however, remained wild in England and Wales
until the reign of King Henry VIII.’ The fox would probably have
also disappeared ere now, if it had not been for his superior cunning,
and his conducing to the sports of the field. . The otter is become
rather scarce, and the seal is now rarely found upon the coasts of
HKngland. The poor harmless badger, although still occasionally met
with in some uninclosed or wild parts, has, notwithstanding his inoffen-
sive and unobtrusive habits, become exterminated in several of the
English counties, and has become rare in most of them.

The enquiries pursued in this paper will, however, be with reference
to the wolf only.

It is admitted by all writers upon the Natural History of the
British Isles, that wolves once abounded in England, Wales,
Scotland, and Ireland; and it is an interesting circumstance, that
we know with tolerable exactness, something of the dates of their
extinction in Scotland and Ireland. The last wolf that is known to
have been wild in Scotland was killed about the year 1680 ;? and the
last presentment for killing wolves in Ireland, was made in the county
of Cork, about the year 1710.°

It is remarkable that when Buffon wrote in the last century, he, or
Daubenton who assisted him, did not believe that wolves had become
extinct in Great Britain.

The following remarkable passage occurs in Buffon’s “ Natural His-
tory:” “Les Anglais pretendent en ayoir purgé leur Isle, cependant on
m’a assuré qu'il y en avait en Ecosse, comme il y a peu de bois, dans
la partie meridionale, de la Grand Bretagne, on a eu plus de facilite’,
pour les detruire.”—Buffon’s “ Natural History,” vol. 7, page 50, title
‘«Du Loup ;” in which work Buffon was assisted by Daubenton, the
naturalist. As Buffon was born in 1707, and Daubenton in 1716, itis
quite possible that one or both of them received the information upon
time when he wrote, “ There are likewise martirns, bevers, foxes, and wezels.” See his
“ Description of Scotland,” vol. 2, p. 11. See also “ Archwologia,” vol. 37, p. 110, and
“ Remains of Pagan Saxondom,” p. 26, pl. 12.

1 Leland’s “ Itinerary,” vol. 7, pp. 16 [28] and 63 [81.]

® It is said to have been killed by Sir Ewen Cameron. See Pennant's “ British Zoology,”
vol. 1, p. 63, and the authorities there cited. Penuant’s “ History of Quadrupeds,” vel. 1,
p. 231.

3 Pennant's “ British Zoology,” vol.1.p.64. Pennant’s “ History of Quadrupeds,” vol. 1,
p- 231; citing Smith's “ Higtory of Cork,” yo}. 2, p. 226. But in “ Notes aud Queries,” pub-

lished in 1856, 2nd series, No. 14, p. 282, and No. 32, p. 120, correspondents state that
wolves were not extinct in the mountains of Wicklow until many years after 1710.

—

5d

that point, from some person who had lived in Scotland, before the
extinction of wolves in that country, and, consequently, it might easily
be believed by either of them, that wolves were to be found there at the
time when that passage was written.

Holinshed wrote his Chronicles in the reign of Queen Elizabeth,
and he mentions that wolves then abounded in Scotland: ‘ First of all
therefore in the fields and wild places of the country there is great
plenty of hares, red deere, fallow deere, roes, wild horsses, wolves, and
foxes.” * * * * * * * **
“The wolves are most fierce and noisome to the heards and flocks in
ail parts of Scotland, saving in one parcell of Angus, called Glennorsdale,
where these beasts doo no manner of hurt unto the domesticall catell,
but preie onlie upon the wild.” Holinshed’s Chronicles, ‘‘ Description
of Scotland,” vol. 2, fol. 14.

We also know from Camden, who likewise wrote in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth, that at the time when he wrote, wolves were very common
in Scotland He also informs us in another place, that ‘Scotland
was ‘grievously’ infested with fierce wolves, which not only fake
dreadful havoc of cattle, but even fall upon men, with such inveteracy
and mischief, not only in this but in many other parts of Scotland, that
by act of parliament, the sheriffs and inhabitants in every county, are
obliged to go out three times a year, to destroy the wolves and their
young ones.”’? ;

We also learn from Camden that at that time Iveland swarmed with
wolves.°

Although it appears to be known with some degree of certainty, about
what period they ceased to exist in Scotland and Ireland, there is great
difficulty in ascertaining at what date they became extinct in England ;
and, in consequence of its greater population, its not having many
mountainous and wild districts, and, as suggested in Buffon’s work, its
not having extensive woods, it is certain that wolves would be much
sooner exterminated in England, than in Scotland or freland.

At the time of the Anglo-Saxon sway, wolves abounded in great
numbers in England; and in the tenth century, in the reign of Athel-
stan, a place of retreat was erected at Flixton, in Yorkshire, in order to
protect travellers from being devoured by wolves.‘

Tt has been said that in the reign of Edgar, also in the tenth cen-
tury, an annual tribute was imposed upon the Welsh princes, of three

* Camden's “ Magna Britannia,” Gough's edition, vol. 3, p. 16.
* Tbid, vol. 8, p. 445, under the Title “ Strathnavern.”

* Thid, vol. 3, p. 464.

* Cumden’s “ Magna Britaunia,” Gough's edition, vol. 3, p. 16.

56

hundred wolves heads, in order to effect their destruction. If that be
true it is only reasonable to suppose that considerable numbers would
be destroyed by the adoption of that expedient; but it is strange that
some authors, copying from one another, and without giving them-
selves the trouble of searching into authorities, have stated, that the
extermination of wolves in England and Wales was caused by it.
Nothing can be further from the truth, as will be presently shewn.
Hume, in his ‘ History of England,” indeed, even goes far beyond
other writers, in his unqualified assertions on that subject, without any
proof; and shews, as is too often the case in his work, his ignorance of
the authorities relative to it; and he has not adduced, for the satisfac-
tion of his readers, and, in fact, he seems to have been unable to adduce
any authority for making the following assertion, viz., ‘‘ Another
remarkable incident in this [Edgar's] reign was the extirpation of
wolves from England. This advantage was attained by the indus-
trious policy of Edgar. He took great pains in hunting and pursuing
those ravenous animals, and when he found that all that escaped him
had taken shelter in the mountains and forests of Wales, he changed
the tribute of money imposed on the Welsh princes by Athelstan, his
predecessor, into an annual tribute of three hundred heads of wolves ;
which produced such diligence in hunting them, that the animal has
been no more seen in this island.”* It is surprising that Mr. Hume
should have ventured to make an assertion so easily refuted ; and it is
remarkable that his ‘‘ History of England” should find a place in so
many libraries, when it is now adinitted, that its author is frequently in-
correct as a historian, and that the statements in it, when he omits, as he
frequently does, to quote authorities, cannot be relied on, That work
has never been regularly reviewed, which ought even yet to be done.
Lord Brougham in his “ Lives of Men of Letters and Science, who
flourished in the time of George III.” very properly exposes the faults
and incorrectness of Mr. Hume’s “‘ History of England,” thus: ‘* There
is continual proof, that he took what he found set down in former works,
without weighing the relative value of conflicting authorities, and gene-
rally resorted to the most accessible sources of information. There
have been instances without number adduced of his inaccuracy, in citing
even the authorities to which he confined his researches.” * *
“Nor can we acquit him on another charge, not rarely brought
against him, and partaking of the two former—neglect or carelessness
about the truth, and infidelity in relating it.””

The Abbey of Fors, in Wensleydale, in Yorkshire, was founded in

1 Hume's “ History of England,” vol. 1, p. 136, quarto edition.
2 Brougham’s “Lives of Men of Letters and Science of the time of George III.,” p. 216.

oT

the year 1145, which is nearly two centuries after the reign of Edgar ;
and some time afterwards, Allan, Earl of Bretagne, gaye to the monks
of that abbey the privilege of taking, by themselves or their servants,
the remains of the deer, which had been killed and partly devoured by
the wolves in the Forest of Wensleydale.’

In the tenth year of the reign of William I. (1075), Robert de Hur-
frayill, Lord of Tours and Vian, otherwise called Robert with the Beard,
being a kinsman to the king, obtained from him a grant of the Lord-
ship, Valley, and Forest of Riddesdale, in the county of Northumber-
land, with all the castles, manors, lands, woods, pastures, waters, pools,
and royal franchises, which were formerly possessed by Mildred, the
son of Akman, late Lord of Riddesdale, and which came to that king
upon bis conquest of England, to hold by the service of defending that
part of the country for ever, from enemies and wolves.?

In the first year of King John (1199), he granted to William
Briwere a license ‘‘ to hunt the hare, fox, cat, and wolf, throughout all
Devonshire ; and likewise the goat, out of the regard [sight] of the
forest ; and to have free warren throughout all his own lands, for hares,
pheasants, and partridges.”®

In the reign of Henry III. Northumberland appears to have been
infested with wolves, because the Manor of Laxton was then held by
the tenure of the possessor of it, chasing wolves, with dogs.*

In the ninth year of Edward I. (1281), wolves existed in such num-
bers in several parts of England that a royal commission was issued
by him to Peter Corbet, for the destruction, by means of men, dogs,
and engines, of wolves, in all forests, parks, and other places, in
Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, Herefordshire, Shropshire, and Staf
fordshire ; and all bailiffs, &c., were commanded to be aiding and assist-
ing Peter Corbet in the destruction of wolves in those counties.

The commission is alluded to by Bingley, the naturalist, but it is
remarkable that he has altogether omitted to give the date, or any
reference where an account of it was to be found. Dr. Whitaker does
not notice it, although he more than once, in his ‘‘ History of Craven,”
adverts to the existence of wolves in England after the reign of Edgar,

1 Dr. Whitaker's ‘‘ History of Whalley,” 3rd edition, p. 200, (note) referring to “ Burton's
Monast, Ebor,” under ‘‘ Fors Abbey."—Dr. Whitaker's “ History of Richmondshire,” vol. },
p. 409. It is remarkable that so laborions and talented an antiquary as Dr. Whitaker,
states that the above was the last positive evidence which he had met with of the existence
of wolves in England. He properly disputes the vulgar opinion of their extermination by
Edgar.

? Dugdale’s “ Baronage,” vol. J, p. 604.

® Ibid, p. 701.

* Brand's History and Antiquities of Newcastle-pon-Tyne, vol 2, p. 393, (Note) referring
to an entry in the Harleian M.S, tem. Hen. 3rd.

58

As the mandate is a curiosity, it is given here, precisely as it appears
in the “ Foedera” :—
** Rex omnibus Ballivis etc: Sciatis quod injunx-

A.D. 1281. imus dilecto & fideli nostro Petro Corbet, quod
An: 9 EHdwd I. in omnibus forestis & parcis, & aliis locis, infra
Pat 9 Edwd I. comitatus nostros Gloucestr’ Wigorn’ Hereford’

m 20 Salop’ & Stafford’ in quibus lupi poterunt inve-

in Twrr: Lond: niri, lupos, cum hominibus, canibus & ingeniis
suis, oapiat, & destruat, modis omnibus quibus
viderit expedire.

«Et ideo vobis mandamus quod eidem Petro in omnibus, que ad
captionem luporum in comitatibus preedictis, pertinet, intendentes sitis
& auxiliantes, quotiens opus fuerit, & predictus Petrus vobis scire
faeiet ex parte nostra.

‘‘In cujus &c, duratur’ quandiu nobis placuerit. Teste Rege apud

Westm’ decimo quarto die Maii.”?

[ TRANSLATION. ]

“The King to all Bailiffs, &e. Know ye that we have enjoined our
dear and faithful Peter Corbet, that in all forests, parks, and other
places, within our counties of Gloucester, Worcester, Hereford, Salop,
and Stafford, in which wolves may be found, that he take and destroy
wolves, with his men, dogs, and engines, in all ways in which it shall
seem expedient. And we command you, therefore, that you be aiding
and assisting the said Peter, in all things that relate to the capture of
wolves, in the aforesaid counties, as often as occasion may require, and
the said Peter may make known to you on our part.

“In witness, &c., so long as it shall be our pleasure. Witness the
King, at Westminster, the 14th day of May.”

Enough has now been stated, for the purpose of showing that it was
an idle tale to assert that the extinction of these animals occurred in
the reign of Edgar. Evidence has been already adduced to show that
they existed here in a wild state a considerable period after the con-
quest; but it is the intention of the author of this paper to go very
much further, and some proofs will be brought forward of their being
in existence for centuries after that event, and some conjectures will be
hazarded, respecting the probable period of their final extinction in
England.

In the 25th year of Edward I. (1296) John de Engaine, Lord of
Blatherwic, died seized of lands in Pightesse, or Pytesse, in Northamp-

1 “ Foedera” (modern edition) Tome 1, pt. 2, p. 591.
Ibid, fulio edition of 1705, ‘Tome 2, p. 168,

59

tenshire, found to be held of the king by the service of hunting the wolf,
fox, and badger.’

In the reign of Edward IT. (1820) John Le Wolfhunt, or Wolfhurt,
son and heir of John Le Wolfhunt, or Wolfhurt, held Jands in Worm-
hill, in Derbyshire, by the service of chasing and taking all wolves
that might come into the King’s Forest of the Peak in that county.’

In the eleventh year of Edward IIT. (15366), John, Lord Roos, of
Hamlake, had a charter granted to him by the king, of free warren in
lands in Nottinghamshire and Oxfordshire, and also to hunt the fox,
wolf, hare and cat, throughout the King’s Forest of Nottinghamshire,®

Jn the thirty-third year of Edward III, (1858) Vitalis Engaine died
seized of part of the lordships of Laxton and Pichesse, in Northampton-
shire, held by petit serjeanty, to hunt the wolf whensoever the king
should command.*

In the forty-first year of the reign of Edward IIT. (1366), Thomas ce
Engaine, Lord of Blatherwic died, seized of land, meadows, and rent in
Pightesse, in Northamptonshire, held by the service of “finding, at his
own proper costs, certain dogs for the destruction of wolves, foxes,
martrons [marten cats,] cats, [wild cats,] and other vermine,” within the
counties of Northampton, Rutland, Oxford, Essex, and Buckingham.?

Of course it is not pretended, that at the dates of the deaths of any
of the before-mentioned personages, who died seized of lands held by
the tenure of destroying wolves, such a tenure is conclusive evidence
that those animals existed at the times of the deaths of those per-
sonages respectively ; because it may have happened that the lands may
have descended from father to son, several times, after the dates of the
original royal grants or charters creating such tenures ; still, even in
that case, enough is shewn to prove that they were not extinct until
centuries after the time of King Edgar. Besides which it must not be
forgotten, that the charter before-mentioned of the eleventh year of the
reign of Edward III. to John, Lord Roos, of Hamlake, then gave him a
license to hunt the wolf in the king’s forest of Nottinghamshire, which
would have been useless if there were not then any such animal to hunt.
We, therefore, have some evidence that wolves existed in England in the
fourteenth century; but it is very probable that they had been destroyed
in the more populous and cultivated counties, although for more than a

1 Dugdale’s “ Baronage,” vol. 1, p. 466.

2 Camden's “ Mag. Britannia,” Gough's edition, vol. 2, p. 302.—Lyson's “ Magna Britan-
nia,’ title, “ Derbyshire,” p. clxix., and 280, quoting Dodsworth's “ Collection from Exchequer
Records.”

*Dugdale's “ Baronage,” vol. 1, p. 519.

* Ibid, p. 466.

® Ibid, p. 467.

60

century longer, they continued to be occasionally met with in the more
wild and thinly peopled parts of England, especially in the northern
counties.

In the fifteenth century they probably became scarce.

In the fourteenth year of the reign of Edward IV., (1474) when that
monarch invaded France, and negociations for a truce were commenced
between Louis XI. and H!idward, we learn from Baker’s ‘‘ Chronicles,” that
King Louis presented Edward with the handsomest horse which Louis
had in his stable, and an ass, and also ‘‘a wolf and a wild boar, beasts at
that time rare in England.”

Those are the exact words of Baker, and are very interesting, and
with reference to the objects of this paper, very valuable. It will be
remarked, that he does not state or insinuate that wolves had been
exterminated or had ceased to exist in England, but merely that they
had then become rare. We, therefore, have got so far towards the
latter part of the fifteenth century, and appear not yet to have reached
the period of their extinction.

I have read somewhere that it is traditionally stated, that they were
to be found either in the forest of Dean or in the forest of Dartmoor, as
late as the time of Queen Elizabeth; but, unfortunately, I omitted to
take a note of the publication in which it was mentioned, and although
I have since devoted some time in endeavouring to discover it, I have
not yet succeeded. Shakspeare wrote in the reign of Elizabeth, and
his allusion to England, and also to wolves, is worthy of notice, as
shewing his impression of their having at one period abounded in
England, viz. :—

“QO thou will be a wilderness again
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants.”
Shakspeare’s “ Henry IV.,” 2nd part, Act 4, Scene 4.

Some passages in that learned and celebrated work, ‘The Institutes
of the Laws of England,” by Sir Edward Coke (afterwards Lord Chief
Justice of England, from that circumstance often called Lord Coke),
who was a lawyer of great talents in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, will,
perhaps, excite surprise, and are very important with reference to the
subject of this enquiry.

He was born in 1551, was made Solicitor-General by Queen Elizabeth
in 1592, and Attorney-General in 1594. He was appointed Chief
Justice of the Court of Common Pleas by James I. in 1606, and Lord
Chief Justice of the Court of King’s Bench in 1613. His celebrated
works the ‘“ Commentary upon Sir Thomas Littleton’s Treatise,” and

1 Baker's “Chronicles,” folio 213. We cannot reasonably doubt that the wild boar,

being a favourite beast of chase, and not being so destructive an animal as the wolf, would
remain in this country a considerable time after the wolf was destroyed.

61

the “Institutes of the Laws of England,” required vast time and
labour; and it is almost incredible that they could have been wiitten
after he became a Judge, and consequently it may be admitted, as is
generally believed, that they were written whilst he was at the bar, and
in the reign of Elizabeth.

It is well known that the precincts of the forests in England had
courts of their own, and were governed by different laws from the rest
of England; and, of course, in treating upon the laws of this country,
so learned and so accurate a writer, as Coke is admitted to have been,
could not avoid noticing them. In the part of his Institutes upon the
Forest Courts, he describes the jurisdiction and functions of those tri-
bunals, and the animals to be met with in the forests of England ; and
in the quaint and peculiar language incident to writers of the time of
Queen Elizabeth, he proceeds to mention the beasts of chase and of the
forest. The following are extracts from his work upon that subject :—

“There be many beasts of the forest by the laws of the forests of
England. The hart in summer, the hinde in winter, and ali that pro-
ceed as of them; the buck in summer, the doe in winter, and the
proceed of them; the hare, male and female, and their proceed ; the
wild boar, male and female, and their proceed: and the wolf, male and
female, and their proceed; tlie fox, male and female, and their proceed;
the martix, male and female; capreolus the roe, as it appeareth before,
is no beast of the forest, but it is a beast of chase.

‘«« The proceeds of the hare, the first year a leveret, the second a hare,
the third a great hare. Of a wilde boar: a pig, a hogge, a hog-stear,
a boar, and after a sanglier.”

“No beast of the forest, that is solivagum et nociyum is venison, as
the fox, the wolf, the martin, because they be no meat, but caro ecrum
est nociva.” .

«So as the red deer, the fallow deer, the wild boar, and the hare, are
venison. Whereupon these two conclusions in the law of the forest do
follow: First, whatsoever beast of the forest is for the food of man is
venison, and therewith agreeth Virgil describing a feast,

‘Implentur veteris bacchi pinguisq : ferinz.’’*

It is to be presumed that a writer whose works are so accurate, as
Coke’s are admitted to be, would not have stated, that the wolf was an
animal of chase in England at the time when he wrote, in the sixteenth
century, in the reign of Elizabeth, if it had then been extinct, and it
must be borne in mind, that he has used the present tense in writing of
it, which it is not likely that he would have done, if he had intended
to write respecting an animal which had formerly becn a beast of chase,

* Coke's “ Institutes of the Laws of England,” vol. 4 p. 316,
if

62

but which had ceased to exist in England. We have, therefore, got to
the point, that the wolf may fairly be believed, not to have become ex-
tinct in England, until at least, some time in, or perhaps soon after, the
reign of Elizabeth. Iam, however, far from contending that it then
existed in the southern cr midland counties ; on the contrary, it appears
probable, that when Coke wrote, it had become extinct in all parts of
England, except in some few of the most northern counties, of which
two are contiguous to Scotland. In the southern parts it may, perhaps,
be presumed to have ceased to exist, about, or soon after, the period of
the accession of the Tudors to the throne; and it will be borne in mind
that only seventy-three years elapsed between the accession of the first
of that family, Henry VII. in 1485, and that of Elizabeth, who was the
last of them, in 1558, and that no very extraordinary change took place
in the cultivation or popu!stion of England during that period. As we
have the clear evidence of writers of such authenticity as Holinshed
and Camden, that in the time of Elizabeth all parts of Scotland
abounded with wolves, and as there was nothing to prevent those
animals from rambling across the border, either in search of prey or
for bringing forth their young, or in consequence of any other
natural instinct, it would be impossible at that time with a
scanty population, and with the desolation incident to the unsettled
state of the borders, to keep the northern counties of England
always free from them, and to prevent their breeding there.’
Those parts of England were exposed to the incursions of borderers
and freebootcrs from Scotland, whose lawless and dangerous habits
were almost as intolerable to their own countrymen as to the English,
and who principally subsisted by pillage and rendered life and property
insecure, and, as a natural consequence, those parts were very thinly
inhabited. Many very large districts in the northern counties con-
sisted of wild wastes, forests, hills, woody valleys and swamps, with a
very scanty and semi-barbarous population ; disadvantages which mili-
tated very much against the early extermination of savage animals. A
great change for the better, however, took place in the population, the
civilization, and the appearance of the country about the close of the
reign of Elizabeth. I, however, am not aware that any English writer
since the time of Coke has given us any reason to suppose that wolves
were to be found in England after the termination of her reign. We
can scarcely suppose that Coke was incorrect in mentioning wolves as

1 Camden states that at the time when he wrote, wolves did not appear in England.—
“Magna Britannia,” Gough's edition, vol. 8, p 16: but as there were then abundance of
them in Scotland, it was clear that they could not be prevented from roaming from
thence into England and breeding there.

63

‘beasts of chase in England at the time when he wrote. It seems, how-
ever, only reasonable to believe, under all the circumstances, that they
were at that time extinct :n all the southern parts, but that a few then
remained in their fastnesses and retreats in forests, hills, and wild dis-
tricts, in some of the northern counties of England, and especially in
the parts adjacent to Scotland, and furnished employment and sport to
the hunters, and that, with the increase of population and cultivation,
the clearing away of woods and forests, and the more general use of
fire-arms, they at last became extinct in the northern counties, about the
commencement of the seventeenth century, which was near the period
of the close of the reigu of Elizabeth.

The thanks of the meeting were unanimously voted to Mr. Brooke
for his communication.

SIXTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Roya Instrrurion, on the 12th January, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Esa., M.D., Prestpent, in the Chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
Rey. Jamzs CRANBROOK,
Erasmus Horpsn, F.C.S.
Enocnw Harvey.

It was moved by Dr. Innz, and unanimously resolved, “ That this
Society present an address to Wit~1am Brown, Esq., M.P., to
express their sense of grateful appreciation for the munificence which
he has lately shown in furthering the objects of Science and Litera-
ture, by undertaking to erect, at his own expense, a building for a
Public Library and Museum in Liverpool; and that the President,
three Vice-Presidents, Treasurer, and Hon. Secretary, be appointed
a committee to draw up and present the above address.”

It was moved by Mr. Anprew, and resolved, ‘“ That it be referred
to the Council to consider the propriety of marking the Society's
appreciation of Dr. Livingston’s discoveries.”

Mr. Ricnarp Brooks, F.S8.A., exhibited the Liverpool Poll-book for
the election of March 81st, 1761, containing the names of several
families still resident in the town. He also exhibited the autograph
of William Roscoe to a bond of indemnity.

64

Mr, Atyrep Licoixson exhibited the palate of the Eugle Ray,
found in the Mediterranean,

Mr. T. C. Arcuen exhibited a piece of tissue de verre. It had
the appearance of gold embroidery upon a ground work of crimson
satin,

The Cuatnman said he had seen some kinds of tissue de verre very
much resembling cloth of gold, and, in conversing with Colonel
Calvert upon the subject, he had been informed that that description
was in great demand in India, The native princes and great men
thought much of gilded garments and decorations, and cloth of
gold was very expensive. ‘The gold was woven either on cotton or
linen, which was liable to be attacked by ants. ‘lhey had consequently
adopted tissue de verre, the glass contained in which was not relished
by these destructive little creatures.

The following paper was then read ;—

ON THE NATURAL PRODUCTS OF THE LEGUMINOSZ,
By T. C. ARCHER, Esq, V.P.

Modern botamsts divide the Zeguminose into three sub-orders
which have well marked characteristics ; thus, those with the true pea-
shaped flowers, consisting of carina, ale, and vewillum, for the sub-order
Papilionacea ; those in which the petals are developed more regu-
larly after the normal character of perigynous Maogens, form the
Casalpinee ; and those which have perfectly regular flowers, but with
an indefinite number of stamens often so much developed as to hide
the minute corolla, constitute the sub-order Mimosea It is under
these sub-divisions I intend arranging the subjects of my present
paper. I irst, then,

SUB-ORDER—PAPILIONACEX.

The plants of this group are generally, though not always, whole-
sume; many yielding a sweet herbage for cattle, as the vetch or tare
(Vicia sativa), lucerne (Medicago sativa), white clover (Tvrifoliwm
repens), purple, or common clover ( 1’. pratense ), flesh-coloured clover
(T'. incarnatum), Alexandrian clover (7. Alewandrinum), and many
other species, Saintfoin (Onobrychis sativa), the L'espercet of the
lvench, Msparzette of the Germans, and Cedrangola of the Italians, is
one of the most valuable of all the fodder plants. Besides these well
known species there are at least a hundred others, more or less
valuable in the form of herbage for cattle.

But the chief value of the Papilionacee is found in their seeds,
which are mostly wholesome, and owing to the large proportion of
gluten they contain, relatively to the other constituents, they are

65
generally highly nutritive; and under the name of pulse very many
species are used as food by man and other animals.

The typical character of the fruit of the Leguminose is a hollow
legume, regularly dehiscing by its anterior or ventral, and its upper or
dorsal sutures. The seeds being attached alternately to the two
ridges forming the dorsal suture by small funiculi or umbilical cords ;
but there exist many very wide deviations from this normal type—
thus, some are indehiseut, others dehisce by one valve only, some are
single seeded, and others have the seeds developed in pulp, and sepa-
rated in a few instances by partitions which are false dissepiments.
The last deviation gives rise to the few instances in which the fruit itself
is used, excepting in the case of some culinary vegetables. ‘Thus, the
pulpy fruit of the tamarind, Z’amarindus Indica (1.), St. John’s bread,
or locust (Ceratonia siliqua), the Brazilian Locust-fruit (/Hymenea
Courbaril ), the Cassia-fistula, Cartharocarpus fistula, several of the Ingas,
and others, but they do not belong to the Papilionacea, and will be
mentioned in their proper places under the other sub-orders. ‘The
legumes of the true Papilionacee approximate most closely to the
typical form, and from them we obtain most of the seeds remarkable
for their farinacious qualities. ‘Thus the common garden pea Pisum
sativum (l..), of which there are many varieties, which may be
arranged under five division—the round white-seeded varieties, the
wrinkled white-seeded varieties, the round green-seeded varieties,
the wrinkled green-seeded varieties, and the common grey pea of the
fields. These are chiefly eaten in their unripe state, under the name
of green peas, except the last, the ripe seed of which is used for cattle
feeding. ‘The pea isa native of the South of Europe, and is an
annual herb.

The common bean (aba vulgaris ), is also cultivated in the gardens
and fields. Under horticultural treatment it produces several varieties
in which the seeds are large, light-coloured, and delicately flavoured,
usually known as broad beans, whilst under agricultural management
they produce the small dark coloured seeds known as horse beans, or
Egyptian beans. This legume is a native of some parts of Northern
Persia. The Haricot or French beans are produced by Phaseolus
vulgaris, of which also there is a considerable number of varieties
chiefly distinguished by the colour of their seeds ; thus, some are pure
white, others yellow, brown, or black, and others mottled ; the unripe
legume of this species is extensively used as a green vegetable, and the
ripe seeds of the white varieties only are used for food as pulse.

Another species of Phaseolus, (P. formosus, variety coccineus/, is
the well-known scarlet-runner of the gardens, cultivated for its unripe

66

legumes; the roots of this and probably other species contain a
dangerously narcotic principle.

In the ast Indies several species of Phaseolus are cultivated, and
their ripe seeds used as food by the natives under various names.

Lentils, the seed of Hrvwm lens (L.), also forms an important
addition to the food of man; it is a native of Southern Europe, and
probably also of Asia. Lentils are very extensively used as food in
Egypt and India. Under careful cultivation the lentil is much im-
proved, the French lentil being fully four times as large as those of
Egypt. The Egyptian lentil is occasionally imported into Liverpool,
and used for feeding cattle. This is perhaps the most ancient of the
leguminous food products ; it is mentioned in the Bible that part of the
food for which Esau sold his birthright was “ pottage of lentiles.” The
lentil has often been cultivated in England, but chiefly as a fodder plant,
being cut in the green state. The much-puffed “ Revalenta Arabica ”
is nothing more than the meal of lentils which have had their some-
what brown skins removed before grinding.

The seeds of Arachis hypogea are used in many parts of the world
as food, but their chief use is for expressing oil, therefore they will be
again mentioned when we have done with those only used as food.
The roots of some of the Papilionace@ also yield food for man, thus
those of Orobus tuberosus are occasionally eaten in the Highlands ;
and in Holland are roasted like chesnuts, and highly relished; but
they are more used by the Highlanders when dried, under the name of
Cormeille, and the Lowland name of Knapperts, as a means of giving
greater zest for whisky, when chewed; to that drink they stand in
the same relation as olives do to wine. This plant is very common
in England as a native, and is generally known as the Wood or Heath-
pea. Inthe United States another tuberous rooted species (Aptos
tuberosa, Moench) is often used as a substitute for potatoes, and is
said to furnish one of the articles of food used by the Aborigines.
These roots are farinaceous and by no means unpalatable

In the German markets large quantities of the tubers of Lathyrus
tuberosus (Lin.), or tuberous-rooted Everlasting Pea are sold, and they
are also extensively cultivated in Holland as food.

The woody roots of the liquorice plant, Glycyrrhiza glabra (Lin.),
are well known for their peculiar sweetness, and as the masticatory of
our boyish days, also on account of the extract or liquorice juice
which they yield by boiling. The plant is often cultivated in this
country for its root, but not for the manufacture of the extract or
juice, which is always imported, chiefly from Italy and Spain.

Many others of the Papilionacee yield useful products of various

67

kinds. Thus several species of Indigofera, and probably many other
plants yield the valuable indigo of the dyers, and Pterocarpus santali-
nus of India yields another valuable dyeing material—the red
Saunders Wood of commerce. ‘The valuable gum Tragacanth oozes
from cracks in the bark of the small shrub Astragalus vera, and other
species, The medicinal astringent gum kino is obtained from the
twigs of Butea frondosa, a beautiful tree, the flowers of which
are used under various names as a useful yellow dye in the Kast
Indies. They have been imported under the names of Tiso and
Kessaree flowers.

The wood of many species is of considerable value. Thus the
locust wood, so much used in ship-building for trenails, is the produce
of Robinia pseud-acacia; the valuable rosewood of the cabinet-
makers, of one or more species of Tvriptolomea. The Itakir, or
Itikiribouriballi, somewhat resembling rosewood, is one of the most
useful woods of British Guiana, and is now coming extensively into
use in this country ; it is the produce of Macherium Schomburgkii.

Laburnum is the cytisus of the ancients, and still occupies an
important place amongst the hard woods used for enlaying.

A peculiar odorous principle is found in several plants of this
division; itis closely allied to Benzoic acid, and is found largely
developed in the Tonquin or Tonka-bean, and less so in the flowers of
several species of Melilotus. It is in consequence of the presence of
this principle called coarmarine in the seeds and flowers of Melilotus
officinalis (Wild.), that they are mixed with the celebrated Gruyere
cheese to give it a peculiar fiavour.

SUB-ORDER—CESALPINIE.

The products of this division are chiefly medicinal or dyeing mate-
vials. The Logwood, Hematoxylon Campechianum, Brazil Wood,
Casalpinia Crista, Brazilleta wood, C. Braziliensis, Nicaragua wood,
C. echinata, all well known South American dye-woods; the East
indian dye-wood called Sapan, Cesalpinia Sapan; the African Bar
and Camwoods (both said to be yielded by Baphia nitida) are all re-
markable for the fine red dyes they furnish.

There is some difficulty existing concerning Nicaragua and Lima,
or peach wood, and bar and cam wood. The two former are said to
be the produce of one species (Ca@salpina echinata) and the two latter
Baphia nitida.) There is much reason to believe, however, that they
are the produce of four species. Those of importance as furnishing
materia medica products, are the Sennas of the East Indies and Egypt,
Cassia officinalis, C. acutifolia, C. obovata, C. elongata, C. Aithiopica,
and some others. The Cassia fistula, Carthartocarpus fistula,

68

(Persoon), is valued for its sweet aperient pulp, and Cassia Braziliense
is sometimes employed in the same way. The Tamarind (Tamarindus
indica), is well known for its useful sub-acid pulp. The dry velvet
Tamarinds of Sierra Leone, which are eaten under the name of
tamarinds are not used medicinally, but as agreeable fruit. They are
produced by two species of Codariwum—C. auctifolium (Afzelius,) and
C. obtusifolium (Afz.), both natives of Sierra Leone. These curious
fruits are remarkable for the close velvet-like pile formed by the hairs
which clothe the legumes, whence the generic name is derived (Kodion
the hide of a beast). Several of the Ccesalpienee yield medicinal
balsams, others yield resins. Brazilian Copal is produced by the Bra-
zilian Locust tree, Hymenea Courbaril. This tree also has a sweet
farinacious pulp filling the legumes round the seeds, which is eaten as
food. ‘The pods of another tree have for ages been used in Asia and
Europe in a similar manner. They are now common in the commerce
of this town under the name of Locust pods. They are the fruit of
Ceratonia siliqua, the carob tree. or Algaroba beam of Southern
Europe. These are eaten extensively in Spain and Germany by the
lower orders. In the latter country they are called Jobaunisbrodt, or
St. John’s bread, and are very generally believed to be the locusts
upon which St. John lived in the desert. They are now used
in this country for feeding cattle. The Tamarind Plum, Dialiwm
Indicum (Lin.), is one of the most delicious fruits of Java, its legume
being filled with a very agreeable sub-acid pulp resembling preserved
tamarind.

Gums are yielded by one or two species of Bauhinia and by Pithe
colobium gummiferum; and many of the species of Bauhinia, or
Mountain Ebony furnish valuable timber. The purple wood of Brazil
and Guiana, used in Birmingham in the manufacture of ramrods for
guns, is the heart wood of Copaifera pubiflora. The celebrated
Lign-aloes, or Eagle-wood, valued by Oriental nations as the most
precious and agreeable of all perfumes, is yielded by Aloeaylon
Aghallocum.

One or two valuable tanning materials are found in this group.
Thus the Divi-divi, those curious curled brown pods so commonly seen
on our quays, are the ripe legumes of Cesalpinia coriaria; and a
material called Algarobilla, which occasionally comes, consists of the
broken pods, seeds, and’a peculiar resin contained in the legumes of
Prosopis pallida, all mixed up together. Algarobilla is not in much
demand. The pods of Cesalpinia Papaia are known to tanners under
the name of Pi-pi, and although often largely mixed with some sorts of
Divi-divi, are rarely imported alone.

69

SUB-ORDER—MIMOSEX,

The products of the mimosee are chiefly gums and astringent
materials for tanning. Acacia cetechu yields those extracts which,
under the name of cutch, terra japonica, gambier, and catechu, are
so largely imported from India for tanning purposes. They are made
by boiling the wood of the tree, reduced to chips, and evaporating the
decoction to dryness. The bark of Acacia Melanozxylon is used for
tanning in Australia, and has been occasionally brought to this
country for the same purpose. The pods of Acacia nilotica (Delile),
under the name of Neb-neb or Bablah, have been imported, and used
both in tanning and dyeing. One of the Acacias, supposed to be 4.
abstergens possesses saponaceous qualities in its bark, which is beaten
out and used by the ladies of Manilla and other parts, for cleaning
their hair under the name of Go-go. The seeds of Entada pursetha
and Acacia concinna possess similar qualities and are extensively used
in India.

Many yield valuable timber, and one of the Acacias yields, by distil-
lation from its flowers, one of the most exquisite perfumes in existence,
it is the Acacia farnesiana (Wild.), a native of St. Domingo, but now
very extensively diffused. It was introduced as an ornamental plant
to the Farnese gardens in 1616, whence its specific name. In
Cochin-China the oakum used for caulking seams of boats and houses
is made by beating out the fibrous bark of Acacia pinnata.

It would be impossible to give even a list of all the useful products
of the Leguminose without far exceeding the limits of a paper to be
read on one evening, and I have therefore confined myself to a selec-
tion of the principal ones, and more especially, although not entirely,
to those which form a part of our commercial imports. Many are to
be seen in the new Museum, aud before long, it is hoped nearly all
will be there.

The Rev. H. H. Hieerns remarked upon the red colour of the
lentile seeds when decorticated. That was the way in which they
were used in Egypt for making soup; and it was interesting, in
illustration of what was probably the real plant that formed the basis
of the pottage which was called red pottage. He had always looked
upon that colour of the lentile as affording presumptive evidence that
the mess of pottage was made from that plant.

70

SEVENTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Roya Insriruriox, on the 26th January, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Esa., M.D., Presipent, in the Chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
WILLIAM Cnray,
Davin Horton,
DapaBuat NEoROII.

The CHAIRMAN communicated, that in accordance with the unani-
mous vote of the Society, to convey, in the form of an address, to
Witi1am Brown, Esqa., M.P., its strong sense of his noble liberality,
in offering, at his own cost, to erect a Public Library and Museum
worthy of Liverpool, he had conveyed the Society’s wish to Mr. Brown,
and begged to know when he would be pleased to receive the deputation
from the Council. Mr. Brown fixed Saturday, the 24th, and with his
wonted politeness, invited the deputation to dine with him on that day.
The deputation consisted of Dr. Inman, president, Dr. Thne, Mr. T. C.
Archer, Rev. H. H. Higgins, M.A., vice-presidents; Mr. Byerley,
treasurer, (absent on the occasion.) and Dr. D. P. Thomson, honorary
secretary. Shortly after their arrival at Richmond Hill, the following
address was presented :—

TO WILLIAM BROWN, Esq., M.P.

Str,—The Literary and Philosophical Society have watched with great interest
the steps taken, during the last few years, towards the formation of a Public
Library and Museum in Liverpool. They have been gratified to see the spirit
with which the proposal for the establishment of such an useful institution was
conceived by a number of enlightened friends of tht diffusion of knowledge,
adopted by the Town Council, and supported by the hearty approval of the whole
community.

But all that has hitherto been done, either by the zeal, activity, and liberality
of individuals, or by the public spirit of the municipal authorities, has been so
completely thrown into the shade by the act of princely munificence which you,
sir, have had the wisdom to conceive, and the magnanimity to undertake, that
henceforth your name will pre-eminently be associated with that most useful
institution, and will be stamped upon the noble building which you have under-
taken to erect for the adornment and benefit of our town.

You have thus secured an indefeasible claim to the admiration and gratitude
of all your fellow-citizens ; and we, the members of the Literary and Philosophical
Society, should be wanting in our duty to the cause of learning which we
endeavour to promote, if we failed to acknowledge your generous sentiments and
noble motives, and to express our appreciation of an act of munificence surpassing
all that the most sanguine could expect to be done by any one of our fellow-
citizens single-handed.

vo oe a

(i

We doubt not that your noble example will stimulate others to imitate you in
furnishing the material helps for the cultivation of learning in Liverpool, and
that these once supplied, the men of science will not be slow to avail themselves
of them for the intellectual and moral improvement of society.

We hope and pray that you may long live to enjoy the pleasure which the
gradual development and increasing usefulness of the Public Library and Museum
of Liverpool will not fail to give to its noble-minded patron.

THOMAS INMAN, M.D., Presipenr.

Royal Institution, Liverpool, 12th Jan., 1857.

Mr. Brown replied at considerable length, observing that it was a plea-
sure which he had not expected, but which he most highly appreciated.
It had long been with him a most earnest wish to help that latent or
struggling talent which he was persuaded always existed in the working
classes, by putting within their reach, the collections, of science, and
the accumulated researches of past generations of learned men. But
he assured the deputation he had not even hoped that the men of
science, who did honour to the town by their laborious investigations
and useful works, would think his efforts worthy of notice. It was,
therefore, peculiarly gratifying to him to find that the members of the
Literary and Philosophical Society had so highly valued his offer, and
had in so handsome, and to him agreeable manner, testified their
feelings upon the subject. He earnestly hoped he was doing good to
posterity by erecting for all classes a great library and museum ; and
he felt that with the cordial co-operation of such a society as the
Literary and Philosophical, that hope was sure to be realised. Again
he thanked the Society for the honour they had done him, and hoped
with such encouragement, his example would be extensively followed by
his wealthy townsmen.

Mr. Brown then called the attention of the deputation to the plans
of the new Library and Museum, which were explained to them by
Mr. Picton, the Chairman of the Library and Museum Committee, who
had been invited to meet them. These were carefully inspected, and
afforded much pleasure, promising as they did very fairly to meet the
wants of a very large public library (150,000 volumes, with power
of enlargement), museum, and gallery of art.

The paper of the evening, of which the following is an abstract, was
then read :—

ON THE PRODUCTION OF COPPER FROM ITS ORES.
By NEWTON SAMUELSON, Esg., F.C.S.

The Author treated the subject in great fulness, and minutely
described the several modes of assaying, as well in the dry way, as by

72

humid analysis. Referring to Swansea as the great emporium for
copper ores in this country, he described the following operations for
the reduction of the metal, as there practised :—

1st.—Calcination of the ore to expel the greater amount of sulphur.

2nd.—Melting the ore obtained from No. | to obtain a coarse
metal, and to which a quantity of unroasted ore is added, rich in
copper. ;

3rd.—Calcination from the product No. 2.

4th.—Melting the calcined coarse metal along with minerals of the
fourth class, in order to produce what is termed white metal.

5th.—Melting this last product with roasted minerals rich in copper,
in order to produce blue metal.

6th.— Remelting the slags obtained from the various former opera-
tions.

7th.—Roasting the metal obtained from No. 5.

8th.— Roasting again to obtain a regulus or crude copper.

9th.—Preparation of crude copper by roasting and fusing the white
metal and regulus.

10th.—Refining the crude copper, and producing the pure malleable
metal.

Having gone through these processes minutely, and explained that
for obtaining the Copper in absolute purity for scientific purposes, he
described the various salts, chemical compounds, and alloys of the
metal. Brass and bronze being the most important of these alloys,
he enumerated their varieties. Those of brass, he described as being
five in number—Ist, that which is used for turning, composed of from
30 to 85 per cent. of zinc, from 60 to 65 per cent. of copper, about 2
per cent. of lead, and a trace of tin. 2d, brass for gilding, containing
64 per cent. of copper, 83 per cent. of zinc, 2.5 per cent. of lead, and
atrace of tin. 8d, brass wire; 664 per cent. of copper, 33,1 of zinc,
lead, 0.5. 4th, for hammering; copper 70 per cent. and zine 30 per
cent. 65th, for castings; copper 91.7, zine 5, lead 2.3 per cent., and
tin 1 per cent.

The proportion of zinc added generally varies from 30 to 38 per cent.
When an alloy of great tenacity is required, there should only be about
25 per cent. added; whilst on the other hand, when an alloy of little
resistance is wanted, 50 per cent. of zinc may be used.

Copper also united with nickel, forming the well known alloy called
German silver, as well as the pakfong of the Chinese. That which is
employed in Europe for the manufacture of forks and spoons, is com-
posed of 50 per cent. of copper, 25 per cent. of Nickel, and 25 per cent.
of zine. The Chinese pakfong varies to a slight extent from the German

73

silver, as it contains less copper and more nickel. Composition: copper,
40.4; nickel, 31.6; zinc, 25.4; iron, 2.6.

There are also several varieties of bronze —1st, that which is
employed in making coins generally contains from 89 to 93 per cent.
of copper, and 7 to 11 per cent. of tin. The same alloy is employed
in the manufacture of statuary and large castings. 2d, the alloy for
gun metal, whose composition is very closely allied to the one just
described. 3d, the alloy employed for making gongs and cymbals,
being composed of 78 per cent. of copper, 22 per cent. of tin. 4th,
bell metal, containing 77 per cent. of copper, 21 per cent. of tin, and
2 per cent. of antimony. 5th, telescope and speculum metal; this is

_an alloy which possesses a steel white colour, is exceedingly hard and
brittle, may be very highly polished, and contains 66.6 per cent. of
copper and 33.4 per cent. of tin.

On the subject of liquid tests and assaying its ores, the following
observations were made :—

With hydrosulphuric acid and sulphide of ammonium solutions of
copper produce a black precipitate of sulphide of copper; with the
caustic alkalies, they produce a blue precipitate of hydrated oxide of
copper, which loses its water on boiling, and becomes black.

Ammonia produces at first a blue precipitate of oxide; but on the
addition of an excess, this precipitate is dissolved, forming a liquid of
a beautiful azure blue colour. Cyanide of potassium produces a
yellowish green precipitate of cyanide of copper, which dissolves in
excess of cyanide of potassium.

Ferrocyanide of potassium produces, in exceedingly dilute solutions
of copper, a purple red precipitate of ferrocyanide of copper.

Salts of copper may also be detected by heating them on charcoal,
with carbonate of soda, before the blowpipe, when the smallest traces of
this metal may be detected with the greatest facility.

In order to determine the per centage of copper in the dry way, in an
ore composed of iron and copper pyrites, the following process is
usually adopted: 200 grains are placed in an earthen crucible, in the
fire of an ordinary assay furnace, and roasted until all the sulphur has
passed off in the form of sulphurous acid. This requires about two
hours, the mass being constantly stirred in order to prevent the ore
from sticking to the sides of the crucible, and to obtain an uniform
amount of heat. After no more vapours are preceptible, the crucible
may be removed from the fire and allowed to cool; a small piece of
carbonate of ammonia (about 20 grains) is added and the crucible is
replaced in the fire, covered by a smaller one inverted. The addition
of this salt is for the purpose of driving off the last traces of sulphurous

74

acid, in the form of sulphate of ammonia, leaving oxide of copper and
oxide of iron, the former of which is easily reduced to a metallic state.
The roasted ore is then mixed with 200 grains of carbonate of soda,
20 grains of carbon or lamp-black, and 20 grains of lime, introduced
into the same crucible and covered with 20 grains of borax, and smelted
in the assay furnace until the whole mass becomes perfectly liquid,
when it may be withdrawn from the fire and allowed to cool; the
crucible is then broken, and a button of copper will be found at the
bottom. The small piece of metal obtained by this fusion must be
beaten under the hammer, and if it is perfectly malleable, without
cracking at the edges, the button may be considered as fine or pure
copper; if not, it has to be refined by repeatedly fusing it with about
20 grains of a mixture of carbonate of soda, nitre, and common salt,
until the metal becomes perfectly malleable.

All kinds of copper ores cannot be assayed by this method. The mode
of treatment varies according to the composition of the ore, and as
copper pyrites is the ore which comes chiefly under our notice, I have
thought it sufficient to describe the mode of assaying this mineral.
The dry assay yields the amount of copper which the smelter obtains
on the large scale; but if he wish to know the exact quantity of copper
that the ore contains, we must have recourse to the humid assay.
The following methods are those generally used for this purpose :—

Copper is generally determined as an oxide by precipitation with a
fixed caustic alkali. For this purpose the ore is dissolved in a mixture
of nitric and hydrochloric acids until nothing but a siliceous matter is
left ; if any other metals but iron are present, they must be separated
according to the routine of chymical analysis; if the latter metal,
however, is the only one present, it is only necessary to dilute the
solution and add ammonia in excess, which precipitates the iron, the
copper being held in the solution, which, as we have already observed,
has a beautiful blue colour. The iron is separated by filtration and
the filtrate boiled; as soon as the liquor has reached the boiling
point, a solution of caustic potash, or caustic soda, is added to it, the
blue colour disappears, and the whole of the copper will be precipitated
in the form of an oxide, if the experiment be conducted successfully.
The precipitate is thrown upon a filter, carefully washed, dried, and
ignited in a platinum crucible; from the amount of oxide of copper
obtained, the amount of metallic copper is calculated, forty grains of
oxide being equivalent to thirty-two grains of copper. If the ore be
rich, fifty grains will be found sufficient to analyze ; if it be poor, it
will be found necessary to use one or two hundred grains. , There are
several other methods of determining the amount of copper in an ore,

* 2

75

and I shall conclude by describing two of them, as they are the
processes generally adopted, being much shorter than the one already
described. An assay by either of them may be conducted in about
half-an-hour.

Great attention has lately been paid to the rapid determination of
copper by means of standard solutions, and we are indebted to Messrs.
Pellouze and Parkes for these valuable methods.

Pellouze’s process depends upon the decolorization of an ammo-
niacal solution of copper, by means of sulphuret of sodium of a known
strength. To determine the strength of this solution, a given
quantity is dissolved in water, and about twenty grains of pure copper
are dissolved in acid, to which ammonia is added in excess. The
liquor is boiled in a flask, and the solution of sulphide of sodium is
gradually added thereto, from a burette (a graduated measure divided
into a hundred equal parts), until the solution becomes colourless, and
no more precipitate is formed. We obtain by this means a solution of
a known strength ; ¢.g., supposing we have used fifty measures, by a
simple proportion we find that every measure corresponds to 0.4 grains
of pure copper.

To determine the amount of copper then in an ore, if no other
metal be present but iron, we adopt the method already described for
separating it, add the sulphuret of sodium until no more precipitate is
formed, and multiply the number of divisions used by 0.4, being the
amount of copper to which each measure corresponds.

Parke’s process is even more easily conducted than that of Pellouze,
as the ammoniacal solution of copper does not require boiling, and
depends upon its decolorization by means of cyanide of potassium. In
this instance no precipitate is formed, but a change of colour takes
place. The graduated or standard solution of cyanide of potassium is
prepared in exactly the same manner as the sulphuret of sodium, by
dissolving a quantity in water, and observing how many measures are
required to decolorize twenty grains of pure copper; and employing
the same process (upon fifty or a hundred grains of the ore,) after the
iron has been separated. The cyanide of potassium used must be per-
fectly pure, and free from ferrocyanide or sulphide of potassium, as both
these substances are exceedingly detrimental, and would completely
vitiate the results obtained,

EIGHTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Institution, on the 9th February, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Ese., M.D., Presipent, in the Chair.

The resignation of Mr. Alfred Holt was received.
The Srcrerary intimated that the following address had been
forwarded to the Rev. Dr. Livingstone :—

TO THE REV. DR. LIVINGSTONE, &c., &c., &c.

Sm,—The members of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool
desire to express to you the gratification which they have felt in hearing of those
great geographical discoveries which you have made in Africa.

While seeking to spread the priceless blessings of Christianity in an unknown,
unexplored country, you have opened up a new and most important territory.
Alone inthis vast enterprise, you have been permitted to complete your dis-
coveries, and to return home to receive the congratulations and the honours
which have been extended towards you.

The members of this Society, with others of your countrymen, hailed the news
of your having found the waters of the Ngami, and were encouraged therefrom
to expect further discoveries. They have, therefore, the highest satisfaction in
knowing that from Linyanti, in the interior of that great continent, you have
been enabled to trace the flowing of the Zambesi to the Indian ocean, and thus
to associate your name with a discovery which, viewed either in the light of
science, philanthropy, or commerce, is of incalculable importance.

If you should again travel in that quarter of the world, the members will
watch your course with the deepest interest; and hope, not only that much
success may attend you, but that you may be spared to return in perfect health
and safety.

THOMAS INMAN, M.D., Present.

Extracted from the minutes of the Literary and Philosophical Society of
Liverpool. ,

DAVID P. THOMSON, M.D., Hon. Secretary.

Royal Institution, February 5th, 1857.

The paper for the evening was then read :—

A PLEA FOR THE EMPEROR TIBERIUS.

PART Il.
By WILLIAM IHNE, Esq., Px.D., V.P.
The republican form of government, as known to the ancients, was

entirely municipal. All the illustrious republics of Greece were free
towns, governing themselyes, and ruling over a small suburban district.

17

The representative principle, by which such a government might ex-
pand over large countries without becoming despotic, was as foreign to
the political wisdom of antiquity as the conception of a social condition
without slavery. Hence the impossibility of forming a comprehensive
Greek state. Athens no sooner became pre-eminent and dominant,
than she became despotic. No means were found to establish an
equality of rights between the people of the annexed territories and
of Athens. There was no free alliance and equal union for the forma-
tion of a large commonwealth of freemen. Power and liberty resided
only in one centre. Those who were at a distance from that centre,
had only the choice between subjection and perfect separation. The
small Greek cities had too much of local life and vigour to submit
for any length of time to the former, and none of them had a territory
sufficiently ample, or political wisdom and martial strength enough, to
rise permanently to uncontested superiority, and to enforce obedience.
Rome was more wise, determined, or fortunate. The inhabitants of
this one city became the rulers first of a densely peopled district all
round the political centre, and then of the whole of Italy. This was
already a severe test of the permanence of their municipal government.
Yet their fortune carried them vastly beyond even these limits, and in
course of time they became the masters of the world. But the
glory of conquest was purchased with the loss of freedom. The first
general, who led a Roman army beyond the sea, was no longer merely a
servant of the citizens of Rome—he was a member of the ruling
aristocracy, destined to become more powerful, more arrogant, more
selfish and rapacious, in proportion as the legions added more and
ever more provinces to the huge dominion of the Empire City.
3 During the period of his command he swayed monarchical power, and
it was found impossible to bring him back again to the modest position
of a private citizen. :

A great anomaly was thus created. The state was brought into
a strange, unnatural condition, which could not last long. The
populace of an overgrown town—poor, idle, abject, and venal—
pretended to govern a vast empire. ‘The elections and laws, made
in the Roman forum by a turbulent and ignorant mob, determined
the fate of the once free and flourishing commonwealths of Greece and
Asia, of the dwellers on the Ebro, the Rhone, the Po, the Hebrus.
But this popular sovereignty was all sham and illusion. The real
governors of the Roman world were behind the scenes, and pulled the
strings. It was the aristocracy, who brought the people to the forum
to give their yotes and to confer armies and provincial governments on
the members of the noble houses. In the unfortunate provinces these

L

78

men amassed the wealth necessary to pay the venal crowds of the forum.
It was of no use, that a court of justice was established in Rome to
inquire into and punish these habitual acts of robbery. The chief
consequence was, that more extortion became necessary, to enable the
offenders to buy off the judges too.

This state of things carried in itself the elements of its dissolution.
The examples of wealth, influence, and power, iniquitously obtained
at the expense of the community, through the machinery of the old
constitution could not fail to stimulate every successive generation of
nobles to ever increased ambition and recklessness. The greater the
ability of these men, the vaster became their influence—the more
threatening their position, the smaller became their number, until it
was reduced by degrees to three, to two, and at last to one. Monarchy
was thus the natural and inevitable result of the subjection of an
empire under the government of a city.

That this change was not only natural and inevitable, but also salu-
tary to the interests of mankind, is proved by the ease, with which,
when once established, it was maintained. The only losers were the
aristocracy and the populace of Rome ; among them alone we find the
sources of discontent and the disposition to rebel. The provinces at
once felt the beneficial effect of monarchical government. Formerly
they had been governed only to be taxed. Now they were taxed to be
governed. No military force therefore was necessary to keep them
in subjection; the army was stationed along the frontiers to defend
the empire from the barbarians; and even in Italy and in Rome the
number of troops was wonderfully small in coniparison with what we
are accustomed to consider necessary to ensure the stability of most
governments.

This fundamental change in the government of the Roman Empire
was effected by Augustus without a corresponding change in the tra;
ditional forms and names. THe preserved not only the old officers of
state with their old names, attributes, and functions, not only the
venerable institution of the senate, the real seat and centre of the life
of the republic, but even the popular assemblies, though they might
seem to contain an element hostile to his own sovereign power. The
task of Tiberius was thus much simplified and facilitated. He had
merely to follow up the wise principles established by Augustus, and
he did so with much tact and firmness. Things were indeed, as yet,
fer from having settled down into an established order and generally
acknowledged rule. There were still many alive, who remembered the
days, when liberty was the watchword of the aristocratic party. (Tac.
Annal. i. 4.) Tiberius was still the first of his race, and had not yet

79

derived from time the confirmation and sanction of his right to govern
over his equals. Yet upon the whole he had little to fear from any
systematic or patriotic opposition. He might dread individual enemies,
but no hostile party. They were all cowed into submission, and into
more than submission, into servility, by the terrible misfortunes of
the civil wars; so much so, that throughout his reign Tiberius had
not to struggle against the independence of the aristocracy, but in vain
endeavoured to foster a spirit of manly self-respect and patriotism in
those, who desired only to be slaves and to enjoy life.

The senate had been at all times the centre of gravity in the Roman
constitution. In the senate was vested the whole administration and
de facto the best part of the legislative authority, to which the people
supplied little more than the external machinery. The senate there-
fore was the seat and instrument of aristocratic influence during
the republican period and the principal opponent of those who, under
the pretext of advocating the interests of the people, availed themselves
of the popular sympathies to their personal aggrandisement, and suc-
ceeded at last in establishing the monarchy on the ruins of the aristocracy.
Hence it was Cwsar’s policy to weaken and degrade the senate.’ But,
when the great struggle had been finally decided in favour of the
monarchical principle, when the senate had ceased to be dangerous,
it became the interest and the policy of Augustus and his successor to
restore it to its former splendour and dignity, and to give it all the
influence and power, which, without making it dangerous or troublesome,
was calculated to render it the most useful instrument of government
in their hands. In the senate, composed of the men most influential
in society by their wealth and descent, the emperors had, or might
hope to have the most able and independent counsellors, the most
skilful and practised statesmen, the natural and best advisers of a
monarch unsupported by any better organized representation.

Thus the Senate became not only the chief administrative board,
but also the chief court of justice, especially for political offences,
aud Tiberius conferred on it also the remnant of legislative and
elective power, which Augustus had left to the people. The Senate
therefore became a Privy Council, or “ Conseil Royal,” subject to the
Emperor alone, but of such weight and dignity, and so indispensable,
that it might have hoped to find in its vast sphere of action a
complete compensation for the loss of party influence under the
republic. It is true, the senate could not acquire the dignity of an
independent body, like the hereditary counsellors of the crown or the

* As it was that of Louis XL. of Wrance and of all his imitators to lower the position ir
isfluence of the feudal aristocracy.

80

delegates of the people in a free country; their debates took place
under the shadow of the imperial purple; but we cannot read the
graphic pages of Tacitus without arriving at the conviction, that not
the want of power, but the want of patriotism, public virtue, courage,
and self-respect, which the great majority of the senators displayed,
facilitated and necessitated the all-engrossing despotism of the time.
I say “necessitated,” for it is necessary, that the weight of political
power should centre somewhere ; it. cannot be annihilated or suspended
in a living, political organization, and if one part of the community lets
it slip from their hands, it will fly to where there is vigour and deter-
mination to keep it.

How easy it would have been for the senate to acquire weight and
influence, and thus to mitigate the growing despotism of the Emperor,
is sufficiently clear from numerous statements of the historians.*

That in their important debates the senators enjoyed a great amount
of freedom of speech, and might even indulge in a sort of opposition,
we learn from the following incidents (Suet. Tib. 31):—A sum of
money had been left to the inhabitants of Trebia, for the purpose of
building a theatre. The Trebians were sensible enough to prefer a
good road to a new theatre, and applied to the Roman senate for leave
to appropriate the legacy to this object. In this application they
could be sure of the entire support of the Emperor, who was known to
be no great patron of the hisirionic art, but the senate prevailed against
the wish of Tiberius, and refused the concession.

The deference of Tiberius.to the expressed wishes of the senate
appears from another circumstance which took place in the second year
of his reign. (Tac. Ann. i 77.) .The Romans were at that time,
as they are in our own days, very fond of sarcasm and invective. The
only poetry, in which they were original and in which they excelled, was
satire. Their wit was keen and active, and in gratifying it they found a
compensation for the loss of free political speech and action. Since
the forum had become silent, the theatres afforded an occasional
vent for the expression of popular sympathy or hatred. It was, as
though a bitter mockery of fate had selected the stage as the fittest

2 According to Suetonius (Tib. 30.) Tiberius “ preserved to the senate and the magistrates
their ancient dignity and power, nor was there anything so insignificant or so important in
public or private matters, which he did not bring before the senate ; respecting custom dues
aud monopolies, the construction or repairing of public works, even the conscription and
dismission of soldiers, and the division of the legion and auxiliaries, lastly, who should have
his command prolonged, or have a special command, what answers should be given to the
letters of foreign princes.” Suetonius adds that Tiberius never entered the senate except
alone, and that, when he was carried in in his lectica on account of some indispositior, he
dismissed his men. Tacitus is as explicit, though less verbose than Suetonius. He says
(Ann. iy. 6.) Publica negotia et privatorum maxima apud Patres tractabantur.

an el OPS OE ee

81

place for the exhibition of this shadow and mummery of freedom.
An extemporized joke, a word, or even a significant gesture applied
to an innocent passage, would fall like a spark on the excitable audience,
and, as we have seen in neighbouring countries in our own time, might
easily cause violent commotions. Of course these were distasteful and
highly irritating to the government, against which, as a matter of
course, they were directed. This was an additional motive for Tiberius
to look upon all these public amusements with no favourable eye, and
to repress by stringent enactments the license of the theatres. An
opportunity offered itself in a disturbance in the theatre, which resulted
in the death of several persons, amongst them soldiers of the guard
and a centurion, who had vainly endeavoured to restore order. The
matter, was brought before the senate, and it was proposed to give the
praetors a summary jurisdiction over the actors, with the right of
inflicting corporal punishments (jus virgarum). This motion, no doubt
approved of by Tiberius, was vehemently opposed by the tribune
Haterius Agrippa, who was even allowed to make use of the once
formidable weapon of the tribunician intercessio, on the plea, that
Augustus had declared actors to be exempt from the ignominious
punishment of slaves. Tiberius yielded, and tried by some other and
milder measures to curtail the license of the stage.®

A characteristic incident bearing upon the same point is related by
Dion Cassius (57,17). Tiberius had issued a proclamation, in which
he deprecated for the future all new year’s presents. ' In the following
night he recollected having made use in it of a word not purely
latin. He was so annoyed and disturbed in his mind, that he could
not rest, until he had sent for some scholars to ask their opinion.
Among these there was one, Ateius Capito, who might have been
acourtier at the court of Louis XIV., for with the spirit and the
wit of a Frenchman he gave it as his opinion, that, though nobody
might have used the expression before, it was quite classical, since the
Emperor had employed it. This servility roused the honest indigna-
tion of Marcellus, who, with something of the old Roman frankness
retorted, that the Emperor might indeed give the Roman franchise to
men, but not to words.*

If similar instances of free-spoken honesty were not more frequent
than they appear to have been, it was not that Tiberius discountenanced
or punished them, (he seemed on the contrary to draw them forth), but
because there was hardly any courage, honesty or-public virtue left
among the statesmen of that age, and because their abject servility was

* Similar instances, Tacit. Annal. ii., 34, 35, 86, 51.

* 3) Katrap dvSpémos ev wodrrelav Pwwatoy divacai Sodvat ‘phuact 5 ot,

82

ever ready to anticipate the secret wishes of their master, and*by their
own voluntary debasement to raise him more and more to the giddy
height of despotic power.’

The general principles of the administration under Tiberius, were
those naturally evolved by a revolution, which destroys an aristocracy.
It was a step away from liberty, but two steps towards equality. The
government of a clique of families over the mass of Roman freemen,
and of the collective freemen of Rome over the provincials for the
benefit of the ruling few was at an end. The equal yoke of despotism,
whilst bending down the proud neck of the patrician, raised the
desponding and helpless provincial to at least an equal claim for justice
to his rights, and for attention to his interests. For the first time since
their conquest, the well-being of the provinces was considered a subject
worthy of the attention of the government. This great change had
begun under Augustus; it was worked out under his successor.
Tiberius selected with the greatest care the men, whom he sent out to
govern the imperial provinces (Tac. Ann. iv. 6), and whereas under
the republic the annual change of pro-pretors and pro-consuls was
productive of constant misgovernment, and even repeated spoliation,
Tiberius continued the same men in office, as long as they conducted
themselves to his satisfaction (Tac. Ann. i. 80).° This alone was a
great boon ; but it was still increased by the vigilance of the Emperor,
who was unrelentingly severe to all those guilty of the old sins of
Roman pro-consuls. In the analysis of the “‘Judicia Majestatis” we shall
find, that what is objected to Tiberius as cruelty, is in many instances
bare justice towards by far the largest class of his subjects.’ Thus Caius
Silanus, accused and convicted of spoliation, received his well-deserved
punishment (Tac. Ann. ii. 66), so also Lucilins Capito (Tac. Ann. iy.
15), Vibius Serenus (Tac. Ann. iv. 18), and others. Nor was it down-
right robbery and oppression only, which Tiberius endeavoured to
prevent. He wished the provinces to be governed justly and mildly,
and used to say, that his sheep should Le shorn, not flayed (Suet. Tib.
$2, Dion Cass. 57, 10).

The result of this vigilance soon became apparent in the increasing
prosperity, happiness and contentedness ef the provinces. They
revived like countries after a devastating plague, and they strove with
one another in showing their gratitude to their benefactor, more

®* Tac. Ann, iv. 6. Publica negotia apud Patres tractabantur; dabaturqne primoribus
disserere, et in adulalionem lapsos cohibebat ipse.

6 For this sensible policy he was charged with idleness and neglect of his duties by the
ignorant rancour of his detractors, carefully repeated and endorsed by Suetonius.

7 A complete list of provincial governors accused of extortion or misgovernment during
the reign of Tiberius, is given by Rein, “ Rom. Criminalrecht,” p. 667.

83

éspecially those provinces which, in the general division under
Augustus between senatorial and imperial provinces, had been ranged
in the latter class, and were thus more immediately placed under the
controlling eye of the Emperor. It was considered a boon for a province
to be removed from the administration of the senate, whose agents and
officers retained some of the republican license, and to be placed under
governors, directly responsible to the searching and jealous control of
their imperial master. (Tac. Aun. i. 76.)

It is surprising to observe the immensity of business thus devolving
more or less directly on the central government of that vast empire,
and awaiting a final decision at the untiring hands of the Emperor.
No province was too remote, no town too insignificant, no interest too
paltry to escape the notice of Tiberius; he was not satisfied with
giving general instructions to his servants, but he watched vigilantly
over their execution. (Dion Cass. lvii. 10.) He had nobody to rely
upon but himself, and thus an astounding organization of a centralized
government was worked out at an age, which to us seems devoid of the
mechanical agencies for carrying it on in such vast spaces. This
circumstance certainly was a great misfortune; it undermined by
degrees the inherent strength and vitality of the different parts of the
ancient world, and finally surrendered it an easy prey to the invading
barbarians ; but it was a misfortune inherent in the nature of the
empire, which, composed as it was of locally disjointed limbs of motly
provinces and nations, could only be welded and held together by the
crushing weight of a powerful and centralized government. Rome could
not rule in Gaul and Egypt, in Spain and Pontus, without rooting out
the germ of national life and self government, which, if allowed to
grow, would soon have overshadowed the plain of Latium and the great
city on the seven hills.

The detail of this immense activity of the central government we
have lost, nor would it possess general interest to modcrn readers, if
preserved; but we find numerous instances, which show, what the
system was, of which it may be interesting to adduce the following :—

As a result of the general lawlessness of a rude and violent age,
there existed in most Greek cities certain sanctuaries, which under
the name of asyla interposed the revered protection of the national
gods in favour of those, whom civil tribunals were unable to shield from
the vengeance of a powerful enemy. These asyla, necessary and useful
in ages of barbarism and anarchy, instead of disappearing under the
more steady rule of equitable laws, derived a deleterious vitality from
their connection with the national religion, and degenerated and multi-
plied to such a degree, that at last they formed in almost every city

84

crowded receptacles of thieves and murderers. Several attempts had
been made to suppress this growing nuisance, but they had generally
led to riot and discontent, and had remained utterly fruitless. At
length Tiberius resolved to effect at least a mitigation of an evil, which
a regard for the feelings of the multitude rendered it unwise or
dangerous to sweep away with a high hand. Accordingly, all the
Greek cities in Asia, who claimed the right of asyla, were invited to
plead their cause before the Roman senate. (Tac. Ann. iii. 60.) Great
was the state and ceremony of the day, when the august senate, as in
the time of republican omnipotence, sat in judgment to decide the
numerous claims based ‘on grants of their ancestors, or of dynasties
displaced by the Roman legions, or on the awful rites and venerable
myths of religion.” Here were the Ephesians pleading the antiquity
and sanctity of the temple of Diana, the Magnesians showing the
charters given them by Scipio and Sulla, the Aphrodisians and
Stratonicenses, exhibiting those of Cesar and Augustus. The
Hierocaesarienses traced their sanctuary to the great King Cyrus, the
Cyprians went back to the time of the Trojan war, and many others
showed equal zeal and learning to defend the abuses, in which they
rejoiced, so that at last the patience of the fathers seemed fairly worn
out, and they referred the matter to—a select committee.

From the east the attention of the Emperor would suddenly be
directed to the far west. At one time he is bent on mitigating the
savage rites of the Druidical religion in Gaul, where he abolishes the

obliged to turn his attention to Spain to deprecate the honour of being
made a god, and having temples erected to him by that province.
This had become a regular practice under Augustus; but Tiberius,
with his usual good sense, determined to set his face against it;
his speech on that occasion is worthy of being remembered.
(Tac. Ann. iv. 38.) “I am but a mortal said he, conscript
father; I have human duties to perform and am satisfied, if I fill
worthily the first place in the state; I appeal to you as witnesses,
and I wish future generations to remember it; they will sufficiently
honour my memory, if they consider me worthy of my ancestors,
careful of your well-being, firm in dangers, and not afraid to give
offence for the sake of the public good. These are temples for me,
temples in your hearts; these are the most beautiful statues and the
most enduring, for those which are made of stones, if the judgment
of posterity turns to hatred, are odious as sepulchres; therefore I
pray to the gods to vouchsafe to me to the end of my life a tranquil
mind, imbued with the knowledge of human and divine justice; my

85

fellow-citizens and our allies, I entreat that after my death they may
kindly remember me, give me credit for what I have done for them,
and honour my memory.’’®

Apart from the provinces it appears, that Italy alone furnished an
ample supply of materials for the most zealous administration. But
here also in great and small matters we everywhere observe the active
co-operation of the Emperor. We have noticed already the decision of
the senate in the local affairs of Trebia. Similar questions raised in
other towns of the Peninsula were no doubt constantly brought to the
central board for decision. In addition to these local matters, general
measures of great importance claimed the Emperor's attention. The
security of the highways throughout Italy and of the streets of Rome,
the revival of decaying agriculture, the supply of Rome with the neces-
sary food, and numerous other matters, constantly pressed upon his
time and attention. The following instance may serve as an illustra-
tion :—

A great portion of Rome was exposed to frequent inundations
of the Tiber. A calamity of this kind occurred in the fifteenth year
of our era, and was the cause of the downfall of numerous houses, no
doubt chiefly large lodging-houses of the poorer classes (insule).!
Misery, disease and death were the consequence. The senate, acting
as an administrative board of all-embracing capacity, discussed the
possible remedies. We are informed (Tac. Ann. i. 76) that Asinius
Gallus proposed to consult the Sibylline books, thinking no doubt,
that the times had not altered, since the Delphic oracle was consulted
respecting the overflowing of the Alban lake. ‘Tiberius had the good
sense and the firmness bluntly to resist such antiquated nonsense, and
to propose the nomination of a committee of senators, charged with
inquiring into the causes of the evil, and with proposing measures for
its prevention. The committee, it is true, failed in finding either the
one or the other, chiefly, as it seems, from want of engineering skill ;
but we cannot withhold our approval from the Emperor, who did all he
could to resist the superstitious folly of his advisers, and to point out
the line of action, which alone promised success.

® As these words show the regard of Tiberius for an unsullied name, so his contempt of
adulation is equally apparent on several occasions; he refused to be called Father of his
country (Pater Patrie), or Augustus; he rejected with indignation the title of Master
(Dominus) ; he would not allow the Mons Caelius, which after the great fire had been
restored by him, to be called Mons Tiberinus, and when the senate proposed to call the
month of September, in which he was born, “ Ziberius,” he asked jeeringly, what they
would do, when they had got thirteen Emperors (Dio C. lvii. 18; Suet Tib. xxvi. 27.) In
the debates of the senate he wonld not listen to flattering allusions to himself, but used to

interrupt the speakers, and compel them to alter their expressivns,
© As occurred also a.p. 70,—Tace, Hist. i. 86.
°

M

86

A principal source of the vices of the age was the boundless prodi-
gality of the upper classes. Nor was this of recent growth. It had
kept pace with the gradual expansion of the republic, and the poverty
of Cincinnatus or Curius was not less a thing of the past in the time
of the Scipios than an inroad of the Acquians or Samnites into the
Roman territory. The political wisdom of antiquity sought a remedy
for this inevitable result of growing prosperity, not in the counter-
acting agency of morality and religion, but in the enaction of sumptuary
laws, fancying, that the natural propensities of mankind could be
repressed by coercive legislation. Laws were accordingly enacted to
prescribe the maximum amount of gold and silver ornaments for
women, and to restrict the expenses of the household, the table, and
the furniture ; but experience proved, that all such laws were utterly
futile. As the wealth of the conquered provinces was poured into
Rome, the expenditure of the Roman nobility expanded to princely
proportions ; their town residences became palaces, replete with the
sculptures and pictures of Greece; their country houses grew into
stately villas, surrounded by extensive parks, which absorbed the fields
and swept away the homestead of the free cultivator of the ancient
times. Italy became covered with the vast estates of a few rich
families; corn-fields were changed into pleasure-grounds or forests for
the sport of the great, and Italy became more and more dependent on
the provinces, even for the supply of the necessary food. Fabulous
prices were paid for the luxuries of the table, for curiosities, works
of art, slaves, dancers, actors, and the ministers of pleasure and
debauchery. All sumptuary laws proved fruitless. Augustus neverthe-
less again attempted to remedy the growing evil by a new series of restric-
tive laws, but his efforts were alike ineffectual. All this experience
failed to convince the social reformers of that time of the futility of
their endeavours; accordingly in the eighth year of Tiberitis a pro-
posal was made by the Aediles to re-enforce the old sumptuary laws ;
and they no doubt considered themselves sure of the approval of
Tiberius, whose economy and frugality were in strong contrast to the
general luxury of his contemporaries. The matter was referred to him
and maturely considered. The result of his refiections is embodied in
a letter to the senate, which Tacitus gives at full length, and which is
a signal instance of the Emperor’s sound judgment and firmness. He
confesses the inability of legislative measures to compete with evils of
such magnitude, which have their source in the economical and moral
condition of society; he shows, that a remedy would be as great an evil
as that attempted to be removed; that half measures are ridiculous,
and increase the boldness of the offenders; he justly complains of

er

87

the idle declamations of those theoretical reformers, who would be the
first to shrink from following up the consequences of their speculative
remedies; and he deprecates the odium, which he would incur by
enforcing laws, which, though severe and ruinous to many, would be
useless to the community.

The primary aim and object of all government among men is to
afford by the protection of life and property that individual liberty,
which is the fundamental and inalienable right of every human being.
Among the means to obtain this end there is none in a civilized society
equal in importance to a gbod regulation of the pecuniary resources of
a state. Money being the power, which sets all the springs of govern-
ment in motion, it is clear, that without a sound system of finance
society can obtain none of the blessings, that it justly claims from the
government, to which it submits. Abuses of all kinds spring up, when
taxation and finance are in a disordered state, and it may be said, that
financial defects lie at the bottom of the great majority of political
errors. If this truth needed illustrations or proofs, they would be
found in abundance on every page of the history of England, of
France, and of every European country. There is no excess of extor-
tion, tyranny and perversion of justice which a needy government will
not have recourse to,.in order to fill the coffers of the exchequer. The
despotism of Turkish pashas and sultans, the corruption of Russian
officials, the everlasting infamy of German sovereigns, who traded in
the flesh and blood of their subjects, the sale of indulgences, the
treasonable bribes accepted by a King of England from France for the
purpose of extinguishing religious and political liberty, the grinding
down of the peasantry in France, which led to such fearful retalia-
tion—all these evils, and :thousands more, sprung from that political
Pandora’s box—an empty treasury.

It is well to bear this in mind, if we would do justice to the Emperor
Tiberius. He was a good financier, not one of those, who love money for
its own sake, who think of nothing but accumulating treasures, who
deem all means equally justifiable providing they are effective in raising
money. He was neither ayaricious in his public capacity, like Henry
VII. and Frederic William IT., nor was he tainted by the more sordid
vice of accumulating private wealth for himself or his family, like
Louis Philippe, or the first King of Holland, or the infamous Elector
of Hesse; nor did he share the more popular and far more ruinous
vices of the lovers of royal state and pomp, luxury and extravagance,
who have been the curse of Europe from the days of Louis XIV. to
within a very late period, and have not altogether disappeared even now.

Tiberius was economical from taste, choice and principle, and his

88

economy was of that nature eminently beneficial to society, which is
as free from rapacity as from avarice, and compatible and intimately
connected with justice and generosity. It never led him to extortion,
or even harshness in the collection of taxes, and it never prevented him
from the most munificent generosity, for which it supplied the most
ample means. Under his profligate successors criminal’ prosecutions
against wealthy families were among the most favourite financial measures.
Tiberius refused even to accept voluntary presents and legacies from his
subjects (Tac. Ann. ii., 48; Dio Cass, 57, 10.) Augustus had courted
popularity and fame by beautifying the city, which, as he said on his death
bed, he found built of bricks and left built of marble. Tiberius was free
from the foolish ambition which seeks glory or an immortal name in
masonry and sculptures, and which does not hesitate to waste on
pompous structures the means, that ought to be dedicated to more use-
ful and necessary objects. He erected no theatres, triumphal arches,
or columns. He confined himself to complete those buildings which
his predecessor had left unfinished, to restore and adorn the venerable
monuments of antiquity, and, free from all ostentation, he disdained
recording his own share in the work in the dedicatory inscriptions.
(Dio Cass. lvii, 10.) History is bound to do justice to a man who
voluntarily sacrificed the favour and love of his contemporaries from
the most honourable principles. It is well known that nothing so
much conciliates the applause of the multitude as the lavish expendi-
ture of the great, whilst strict economy, which the vulgar prefer calling
avarice, draws upon a man unmitigated dislike. It matters little in
the eyes of the people how wealth be acquired, so that it be freely
spent. Let a king squander away the millions extorted from the toil
of his outraged subjects, the very splendour of his court and the shouts
of his sycophants and parasites will drown the murmur of those, who
were weak enough to allow themselves to be plundered with impunity.
Even history has too often joined in the chorus of court flatterers and
poets to extol the splendour of a ‘‘ grand monarch ;” and thus we find
even in Tacitus the echo of the dissatisfied grumbling of the Roman
mob, who missed under Tiberius the bribes with which Augustus had
purchased their applause.

Tiberius was well acquainted with the tastes of his subjects; he
knew, that for bread and games they would deify him. Yet he was
strong-minded enough, and let us add, proud and contemptuous
enough, to resist the temptation. He disliked the favourite sport of
the Romans, the bloody gladiatorial combats; he refused to attend,
when he was compelled to allow them." Augustus had freely mixed

11 Compare Dio Cass. vii. 14.

89

with the people in the numerous exhibitions, with which he courted
and gained popularity. All this was altered under his saturnine
successor (Tac. Ann. i. 54), who could venture not only to dare the
idle discontent of the capital, but the grumbling of the legions, whom
he paid punctually, but never condescended to bribe by donations.”

‘he odium thus incurred by curtailing the public amusements
Tiberius increased by his private economy; he disliked pomp and
ceremony ; his court differed in no respect from the house of a private
gentleman. Extremely frugal and simple in his own mode of life, he
enjoined the same economy on others. Several spendthrifts, who had
squandered their hereditary wealth, he ignominiously expelled from the
senate (Tac. Ann. i. 48); he lavished no treasures on favourites,
parasites or relatives, and thus, in an age of luxury and dissipation, he
set a noble example of the much vaunted old Roman frugality, simplicity
and abstinence, an example destined unfortunately to remain entirely
disregarded.

Such public and private economy supplied an ample fund for
meeting cases of distress, and for alleviating the sufferings of thousands.
q Accordingly, we find Tiberius able, as he was always ready, to assist
his suffering subjects with a liberal hand, and to spend in acts of
kindness and charity vast sums of money, which he sternly refused
to squander for the amusement of an idle multitude. If we reflect
that charity and philanthrophy are eminently virtues of our Christian
civilization, the noble fruit of the religion of love, almost unknown to
the imperfect morality of pagan antiquity, we are bound to honour
and admire the man, who, though outwardly hard and unfeeling, so
largely extended his sympathy, uncalled for and unexpected, to his
suffering fellow-creatures. Nor were there opportunities wanting in
his reign. The most fatal earthquake known in antiquity destroyed
in one dreadful night twelve of the most flourishing cities of Asia Minor,
among them Sardes and Ephesus. The former town alone received
from Tiberius the sum of 10,000,000 of sesterces (£80,000,) and all were
relieved of their public burdens for a number of years (Tac. Ann. ii. 47).
At a later period another earthquake visited parts of Asia Minor and
Greece, and similar assistance was rendered by the Emperor. Two
great conflagrations destroyed portions of the city of Rome ; each time
Tiberius made the whole loss good to the sufferers (Tac. Ann. iy. 64,
and vi. 45). We are informed, that on the second occasion he spent
100,000,000 sesterces, and this too a very short time before his death,

12 He paid them the legacy of Augustus, but only once made a present in his own name,

and that was on the memorable and critical occasion of the fall of Sejanus, when he gaye a
donative to the Pretorian Guards and the Legions of Syria.—(Suet Tib. 48.)

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at a period, when, according to the received opinion, he had lost all the
fictitious virtues of his earlier years, had abandoned all cares of state,
and had given himself up to the unbridled enjoyment of the lowest
appetites. Who is the prince on a European throne in our own days,
who could afford, or would labour all his life long, to be able to afford
assistance on such a scale to his suffering subjects ?

Were we more perfectly acquainted with the detail of the adminis-
tration of Tiberius, we should find the same spirit pervading the whole.”
We should discover that, he was ready to assist individuals as well as
masses, and yet, what is eminently characteristic of his temper, we
should see, that it was never from ostentation, but from conviction and
sense of duty, that he granted or withheld his assistance. Thus we are
informed, that he gave large sums to senators, who had fallen into
unmerited distress and poverty, and sternly refused the same boon to
others, who, without deserving it, clamoured for his bounty. (Tac.
Ann. i. 75; Suet Tib. 48.) One case is so much in point, as showing
the Emperor’s discrimination, his fearlessness in challenging discon-
tent and obloquy, and his readiness to speak his mind distinctly, that ,
I cannot refrain from giving the narrative of Tacitus. (Annal. ii. 37, 38.)

One Marcus Hortalus, who had received from Augustus, 1,000,000
sesterces, to support the senatorial dignity, but had again come
to poverty under his suecessor, so far forgot the pride of a Roman
senator and the dignity of a freeman, that, digressing from the course
of the debate in the assembled senate, he addressed a most abject
petition to Tiberius, imploring him to have pity on him and his four
children, and not to allow such a great and glorious family as his to
fall into utter wretchedness. The senate, as Tacitus states, seemed
inclined to favour the petitioner; but Tiberius perceiving this gave
vent to his just indignation in the following words : “If all the indigent
were to come here and to clamour for money for their children, the
public resources would soon fail, and yet these men would not be
satisfied ; and surely our ancestors have not sanctioned the practice of
free debate in the senate, that we should bring forward here our private
business and wants, to cast odium on the senate and the prince,
whether they refuse or allow such applications for assistance. It is
not a request, but an impudent demand, out of time and unexpected,
for a man, to interrupt our discussions, to recount the number and age
of his children, to do violence to the kind disposition of the senate, as
well as to myself, and as it were to break open the public treasury by

18 Tn a season of dearth he fixed the price of corn at a low figure, and paid the difference

to the dealers (Tac. Ann. ii. 87). During a monetary crisis he lent the sum of 100,000,000
sesterces (£800,000), for three years without interest.

91

force, which, if emptied by a desire to court popularity, will have to be
filled again by unlawful and criminal measures.”

Nothing can be more characteristic of the age, than that this
language, so plain, straight-forward, sensible and just,’* should be
received by that noble body of senators, the elite of the nation, with
scarce suppressed disgust, so as to compel even the haughty Tiberius
to relent, and to yield to the wish of the senate so far as to grant
200,000 sesterces to each of the sons of Hortalus. Only one cir-
cumstance can increase our surprise; it is the apparent sympathy
which Tacitus, the philosophical historian, the proud republican, the
defender of the innate dignity of man, evinces for the abject petitioner
and his servile compeers. He does not hesitate to insinuate, that the
words of Tiberius deserved the censure of good men; that Hortalus,
when he was struck dumb by the Emperor’s invective, “‘ maintained the
dignity of his noble house,” and that the Emperor showed a waut of
feeling by suffering him afterwards to fall into the most abject poverty.

When we calmly reflect on this scene, can we help coming to the
conclusion, that Tiberius in his notions of the duty of a citizen to
society was far in advance of his age? We can sympathise with his
feelings in the case of Hortalus ; no statesman of our days would judge
otherwise. Who could rise in either house of parliament to advocate
a grant from the public purse to retrieve the fortunes of a bankrupt
nobleman, not for any merit of his, but on account of the nobility of his
house? But the contemporaries of Tiberius judged otherwise ; so did
his historian. They started from entirely different premises; their
political convictions rooted in the republican times; their summum
bonum was the splendour, wealth, influence and glory of the great
families. All other considerations were secondary in their eyes, and
they hated the Emperor, who refused to look upon the resources of the
state as the patrimony of a few noble families.

From what has been said respecting the spirit of administration in
general, and of that of the finances in particular, we may infer, that
under Tiberius the most sacred of all the political interests of society—
the fair and impartial administration of justice—was as well secured as
was warranted by the prevailing ideas of justice, and by the outward
appliances for their realization. Where a wise economy removed all
the temptations of pecuniary embarrassment—where cupidity and
avarice were foreign to the prince, and were repressed with a firm and

14 This is one of the many instances which are utterly at variance with the assertion of
Tacitus, that Tiberius habitually concealed his mind, even when he had no motive for it,
(Tae. Ann. i. 2.) “Tiberioque etiam in rebus quas non occuleret, seu natura, sive adsuetudine
suspensa semper et obscura verba.”

92

unrelenting hand in all the subordinates by his never flagging watch-
fulness, it is to be presumed, that in all civil litigation justice would.
be unfettered.

But a question may arise, if the same independence was granted to
criminal tribunals, at least in all those cases, where the safety, security,
or even the interest of the Emperor were concerned, in all cases there-
fore which more or less directly had a political character. This ques-
tion is of such importance, that it will be necessary to investigate it
carefully.

Whatever merits we may assign to the Roman law as a nicely and
scientifically elaborated system of jurisprudence, the administration of
that part of it, which we should call the criminal, and which the Romans
called the public law (jus publicum), was most defective. Its principal
fault was this, that it was not detached from, and independent of the
political powers of the state. The great officers of state were the
judges, the people at large were the jury. It was necessary that
the administration of justice should thus assume a political character,
that party feeling should intrude itself into the place of judicial im-
partiality, and that the right to distribute justice should become a
hotly contested object of political warfare. The separation of the
jurisdiction from the administration of the state, the creation of an
independent judicial bench, is an idea of modern date, which
never entered the consciousness of the ancients. Every civil officer
was by them invested with jurisdiction. In Rome the consul was at
first the chief judge; and though since the establishment of the preetor-
ship this office was considered as principally judicial, every other officer
of state had jurisdiction in matters connected with his peculiar functions.
If we would wish to realize the bearing of such an arrangement, we must
fancy the Chancellor of the Exchequer to be the chief judge, deciding
in all matters relating to the revenue—the President of the Board of
Trade in all mercantile affairs, town dues, &c. If we added to such an
arrangement as this the annual change of these chief officers connected
with the most violent electioneering struggles, we should soon be able
to appreciate the value of a bench of judges, elevated above all party
feeling, independent of the issue of party contests, and devoted to no other
interests but the purity and sanctity of the courts, in which they preside.

To remedy such a great evil as this the Romans had recourse to a
measure, which was a greater evil still. This was the transfer of
all capital cases to the decision of the people at large. A popular
assembly is the worst of all tribunals. There is an end of every
feeling of personal responsibility, when thousands share it among
them ; there is no cool reflection in a great crowd ; impulse supersedes

93

deliberation, sympathy or aversion triumphs over impartiality, and
party spirit over justice. All these evils are of course aggravated in
political trials, where the people are judge and party at the same
time. We can hardly conceive how it was possible to adhere to such
a system for any length of time. Apart from the practical incon-
venience of assembling the whole people, or even a portion only
(as at Athens) as jurors to decide criminal cases, the inevitable corrup-
tion of justice should have suggested some remedy to the great states-
men of antiquity. But they found none, and even when the frequency
of crimes in the later periods of the republic made it imperative to estab-
lish (122 B.C.) regular tribunals (the Questiones Perpetue) for the
trial of offences, the two fundamental defects of the old system were
in the main preserved, for the presidents of these courts were taken
from the magistracy, and the jurors were a numerous body of political
partisans. At first they were taken from the senators; their corruption
and party spirit led to the Sempronian law of C. Gracchus, which
deprived them of this right (or as we should say duty), and gave it to
the knights. From this time forward to the end of the republic, every
party triumph in the fearful oscillations of its downward course, was
accompanied by a change in the constitution of the jury lists, and, it
appears, every new arrangement was productive of the same vices of a
partial and corrupt administration of justice. The long habit of
looking at the merits of a case through a political medium, of con-
sidering the family, the connections, the political influence, the party
of an accused offender rather than his guilt or innocence in the case
before the court, had totally vitiated in Rome not only the practice in
the administration of justice, but the very notions of right and wrong.
The speeches of Cicero give a faithful picture of this deplorable state
of things, and they are sufficient evidence, if there were no other, that
all healthy action of republican life was gone, that the body politic had
become diseased in all its vital parts, that a regeneration became
necessary, and that the establishment of the monarchy, although
accompanied by a total extinction of political freedom, became a
blessing to mankind.

The position of the Emperors differed from that of any of the
political parties in this respect, that they were powerful enough to be
not a party themselves, but elevated above them all, This alone was
an immense boon to a people, that had suffered so much from civil
wars, but its full realization was not possible at once with the means
at the Emperor's disposal. As all political reforms have to be worked
out with the machinery of the abolished system, with the same men,
imbued with the same principles, prejudices and habits, it often happens

N

94

that in spite of a change of form the old spirit pervades the new
organization, and even under the most favourable circumstances, when
a master mind directs and controls the reform, it cannot be, but that
imperfections insensibly glide from the old system into the new.

Thus it was with the reforms in the administration of justice intro-
duced by Augustus and Tiberius. The former had soon found it necessary
to put an end to the mock trials of the popular assembly, and he
endeavoured to place the criminal tribunals on a sound basis. Yet
Tiberius found the old spirit of partiality rampant, and though he
endeavoured to counteract it, he produced but very slight results. It
was his custom, as Tacitus (Ann.i.,75,)and Dion Cassius (57, 7,) relate,
personally to go to the different tribunals and to watch their proceed-
ings. His object was to prevent the subversion of justice through the
party influence of great men.” ‘There can be no doubt, that by his
interposition he compelled the tribunals to follow the dictates of justice
rather than of favour, but that he failed to instil into them the prin-
ciples of unadulterated justice, seems clear from the invidious remark
of Tacitus, that “whilst this justice was assisted, liberty was corrupted.’”*
This shows that even in the opinion of the great historian the liberty
of straining the law for the benefit of the great was more desireable
than the necessity of submitting to just decisions.

We have spoken above of the activity of Tiberius in the general
administration. It was not less striking in his attention to the due
distribution of justice. We cannot help wondering, how he found
time, bodily strength, and mental energy to go through all the work he
did. He was always on the alert, always ready to act, when an object
was to be obtained. The reader of Tacitus needs no citation in proof
of this fact. We will therefore only select one instance, which is too
characteristic to be omitted. The Pretor Plautius Silanus was
charged with having murdered his wife by throwing her out of the
window of her bedchamber. Silanus wished to make it appear that
his wife had sought a voluntary death. Tiberius, as soon as he heard
of the charge, proceeded in person to the Preetor’s house, examined the
room, and satisfied himself, that there were indications of a struggle
between the unfortunate lady and her murderer, and he referred the
matter to the senate and the regular tribunal. The self-murder of
Silanus terminated this tragedy, which exhibits in a striking light the
honourable conduct of ‘Tiberius, and shows that in his anxiety to
promote the public good, he cheerfully sacrificed his own ease, and
used the weight of his station to bring a high-born offender to justice.

15 Tac. 1l.c. Multaque eo coram adversus ambitum et potentium preces constituta.
1¢ Sed dum veritati consulitur, libertas corrumpebatur.

95

But the interference of the Emperor in the administration of the
law would have been the reverse of beneficial, if his principles of
justice had not been purer than those prevailing in the ordinary
tribunals, or if his sentiments had not been supported by soundness of
judgment and firmness of will, From one passage of Tacitus it would
appear, that Tiberius took such an interest in legal matters, because he
had a taste for criminal prosecutions.” But that imputation is merely
a rhetorical phrase intended to spice his declamations against Tiberius.
We must appeal from the rhetorician Tacitus, to Tacitus the historian,
and the latter informs us, that in all but the ,trials for treason the
administration of justice was equitable under this Emperor.’* This is
avery important admission, especially, if we reflect, from whom it comes.
It is fully corroborated by numerous statemexts of Tacitus himself and
other historians, which it would be tedious to quote.

One feature more particularly distinguished the Emperor's love of
justice. It was this, that whilst unrelentingly severe to all those, who
had offended against the common weal, and exerting all his influence to
bring them to justice, he avoided using the influence of his authority
in cases of litigation, where he was himself directly concerned,’ and
was generous and forgiving to those, who offended him personally.”
This forbearance he showed especially in the frequent cases of libellous
aspersions, to which his unpopularity continually exposed him. (Tac.
Ann. vi. 5, 6, 7.) Only on one occasion he seemed exasperated,
and punished the offender with exile (Tac. Ann. iv. 42); all other
accusations of this kind, which were numerous, he quashed, and it is
surprising, that they should have been so often repeated.

In the passage above quoted from Tacitus, in which the administra-
tion of justice under Tiberius is praised in general terms, one impor-
tant exception is made, which goes far to nullify the merit of the rule.
This exception has reference to the crime of Hicu Treason. We .
can easily imagine even a cruel tyrant to allow justice in all civil and
criminal matters to have free course, and yet to defy all its principles,
as soon as his political interest seems to require it. Such perversion
of justice for political purposes is more particularly likely to occur in

17 Tac. Annal. 1,75. Nec patrum cognitionibus satiaius judiciis adsidebat.

2® At least up to the period when the influence of Sejanus became paramount. Tac.
Annal. iv. 6, Leges, si majesiatis questio eximeretur, bono in usu.

28 Tac. Ann. iv. 7. Siquando cum privatis disceptaret, fornm et jus.

2°Tac. Ann. ii. 50. In se jacta nolle ad cognitionem vocari. Ib. iy. 31. C. Cominium,
probrosi in se carminis convictum, Cesar precibus fratris, qui Senator erat, concessit.
Sueton. Tib. 28. Sed advyersus convicia malosque rumores et famosa de se ac suis carmina
firmus ac patiens, &c. After reading such testimony it is surprising to find Tacitus

contradicting himself. Annal.i. 72. fin. Hune quoque (Tiberium) asperayere carmina in
s@yitiam superbiamque eius et discordem cum matre animum,

96

times of civil commotion, during revolutions, or after them, before a
new order of things has been fairly accepted and acquiesced in by
society. In such times the common law of peace is too weak for the
emergency. We are aecustomed to see martial law substituted in its
place, or in other ways the hands of the established government
strengthened for the speedy oppression of resistance and even of discon-
tent. The cases of hardship or injustice, inevitably arising from such
circumstances, were increased among the Romans from the peculiar
nature of their judicial procedure, which even in common criminal
cases allowed too much of political agitation and party influence.

If the law of treason had been perfect among the Romans during
the time of the healthy republic, we could hardly expect to see it
emerge in a perfect state from the long-continued civil wars. But
it was most defective from the beginning in one essential point. The
definition of high treason was extremely vague, so that it could be-
turned and twisted to suit the convenience of any dominant party.
High treason, or as the Romans called it, Imminuta Majestas,
included every offence against the sovereignty, and safety of the
commonwealth. One of the chief objects of the Lex Majestatis was
the protection of the public officers in the execution of their duty, and
it appears probable, that the first law of this kind, the Lex Appuleia,
(about 100 B.C.) was principally intended to give increased security to
the tribunes of the people.” The Emperors found this law admirably
adapted to secure their usurpation. They represented in their own
person the sovereignty of the Roman people, and besides other
functions they had arrogated to themselves the Tribunitia Potestas for
life, which gave them the sacred inviolability of the ancient tribunes.

It may well be doubted, if this arrangement, so ingeniously contrived
by Augustus, was superfluous in the yet unsettled state of the Roman
monarchy. Next to the exhaustion of the people, and their readiness
to obey a master, it was the greatest security of the new sovereigns.
The early Emperors, though commanding large armies in the
remote provinces, had but a very small body of troops immediately
under their hands at Rome. It might have been impracticable to
resist a conspiracy after it had come to maturity. Therefore, it was
necessary to crush resistance in the bud, and it is not necessary to add,
that there was a great temptation, as there always is, for those, who had
the upper hand for the time, to crush and annihilate their opponents,
so as to remove all danger and even the possibility of it for ever.

21 At first the tribunes were only protected by the Sacratio of those who injured them.
The efficacy of this law was gone with the general influence of superstition. Hence the
desire to obtain more effectual protection.

97

If after these remarks we are prepared to find the popular idea of a
cruel, bloodthirsty and relentless Tiberius borne out by the history of
the state trials during his reign, we shall be disappointed. To get at
the truth however, we must carefully investigate every reported case of
which we know sufficient to give to it importance as historical evidence.
We must not take the general remarks of historians, ancient or modern.
Their misrepresentations in summing up are the primary cause of the
caricature, which history has hitherto exhibited as the portrait of
Tiberius. We must avoid—

1. To take for granted, that all persons accused of high treason were
found guilty and condemned.

2. To look upon persons condemned for other offences, when they
were charged with, but acquitted of high treason, as victims of the
latter charge.

3. To sympathize with all those as innocent victims of tyranny, who
were found guilty of high tteason, as if the reality of such an offence
had been impossible. ‘

Misrepresentations on these three heads are common. ‘Their causes
are traceable to the original historians and shall be pointed out in the
sequel.

Tacitus prefaces his narrative of trials for high treason with the in-
vidious remark, that Tiberius gave his sanction for putting that law in
force, as if an ancient law of the republic, as essential as any for the very
existence of the state, could have been thrown aside as useless, and
that by a prince, whose own authority would have been thus exposed,
without any legal protection, to the attacks of any discontented party.
In addition to this unreasonable and unfair remark, Tacitus indulges
in his dislike of Tiberius at the expense of truth. He says, that the
law was under the Emperors first employed to punish offensive words,
whilst formerly actions only came under its cognizance.” This-is a
decided error, if not a wilful misrepresentation; for we know, that in
the third century B.C. the sister of Claudius Pulcher was tried for high

treason on account of some silly words spoken in public.” It was therefore

no new engine of despotic power, that Tiberius introduced, but an old
law, never abolished, and never in abeyance, that he preserved in force
not only for his own security, but for that of the state as well.

The first accusation brought under this law was directed against
Falanius, an obscure knight (Tac. Ann. i. 73). Like other persons, he
had established in his house certain religious rites in honour of
Augustus. Among the fellowship of worshippers he had admitted a

22 Tac. Ann. i. 72. Facta arguebantur, dicta impune erant.—Suet. Tib. 2.
*® See above, Proceedings of the Society, vol. x. p. 78, Cf, Cicero ad fam. iii, 11.

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certain mimic actor, Cassius, who led a notoriously infamous life.
This was construed to be a sacrilege against the deified Augustus.
Another charge of a similar nature was, that in selling a certain
estate he had also sold a statue of the late Kmperor. A charge not
less futile was brought against Rubrius, an equally obscure individual.
It was, that he had sworn a false oath by the deity of Augustus. It
seems clear, that these accusations, brought in the very commencement
of Tiberius’ reign, were feelers put forth by certain political parties to
test the disposition of Tiberius, and to try, what use could be made of
the law of high treason. If so, the accusers must have been sadly dis-
appointed, for Tiberius sent a letter to the consuls to this effect: “ The
decree of the apotheosis of Augustus had not been adopted, in order
that this honour should turn out to be the destruction of any citizen ;
the actor Cassius had frequently assisted in plays, consecrated to the
memory of Augustus by Livia, nor was there any sacrilege in including
the statues of Augustus or any other gods in a general sale. The
false oath should be looked upon as if Rubrius had sworn it by Jupiter;
the gods would themselves take care to punish such offences.”

Thus these two knights escaped punishment, owing to the straight-
forward good sense and justice of Tiberius. Now let us remark, how
the Emperor has been systematically maligned by his historians.
Tacitus has not a word to say in commendation of this act of justice,
but Dion Cassius (57, 24) goes so far as to assert, that Tiberius would
have condemned Falanius to death, if at the trial the consul had not
asked him first to give his verdict ; that shame compelled him to vote
for an acquittal, as it was a matter, in which he was personally concerned.
Now this is ungracious in an historian, To suggest a bad motive for
a good deed we must be furnished with most satisfactory and convineing
evidence. So far was Dion from this, that he is guilty of a downright
misstatement; for it appears from the full report of Tacitus, that
Tiberius was not present at the trial, could therefore not be called
upon to speak first or to give an opinion at all, but that he embodied
his view of the case in a letter to the consuls. The truth of Tacitus’
narrative is moreover confirmed by the conduct of Tiberius in a similar
case, which occurred several years later. L. Ennius was impeached
of high treason (A. D. 22) because he had melted down a silver
statue of the Emperor (Tac. Ann. iii. 70). The learned jurist Capito
degraded himself by strongly speaking for the impeachment, but
Tiberius would not hear of it and quashed the whole affair.

The next case is one of several charges of a different nature (Tac. Ann.
i. 74.) Grannius Marcellus, the Pretor of Bithynia, was accused by his
own questor, Cepis Crispinus, of extortion during his provincial adminis-

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tration, and of high treason for uttering malevolent words respecting
Tiberius, for placing his own statue in a higher position than those of
the Cesars, and lastly for taking down the head of astatue of Augustus
and replacing it by one of Tiberius. This last contrivance which now-
a-days would appear merely ridiculous, seems to have exasperated
Tiberius to a high degree.* But he soon relented and allowed
Marcellus to be acquitted on the charge of high treason. The charge
of extortion was tried before the civil tribunal established for that
particular case (the Recuperatores). Tacitus does not report the issue ;
but even if Marcellus was found guilty, the punishment would only
be a fine, as the Court of Recuperatores had only civil jurisdiction.

In this case again we can discover the malevolence of the historians.
Tacitus characterizes the charge of hostile language against Tiberius
as an accusation, from which it was impossible to escape,” implying of
course, that Tiberius was unforgiving to those, who offended him
personally. We have seen, that his disposition was the very contrary.
Suetonius (Suet. Tib. 58) goes farther, and after stating, that Tiberius
wished the Jaw to be enforced, and adding, that he did enforce it ‘‘ most
eruelly,”*® he relates the act of changing the head of a statue of
Augustus, and adds, that the accused was condemned. This evident
perversion of facts indicates the animus of the writer. In this
instance we are by good luck enabled to discover and correct the
error. Who will say, in how many other instances we should be
able to do the same, if we had a fuller and less partial account of the
events of this reign. Even Tacitus, with all his bias against Tiberius,
is immensely superior to Dion or Suetonius, because he is generally
reliable as a witness to facts which careful historical criticism can divest
of the rhetorical colouring given them by the annalist.

But the irreparable loss of that portion of Tacitus’ work, which
referred to the years following the conspiracy of Sejanus and its
suppression compels us to take as our chief guides these two historians,
whose want of accuracy and veracity we have now found means to lay
bare.

The next impeachment for high treason is prefaced by Tacitus (Ann.
ii. 50) with words which prepare us for scenes of terror and blood.
“Tn the meanwhile,” he says, “the law of high treason assumed
greater dimensions.” The unfortunate victim in this instance is a

24 The cause of this is sufficiently explained by the practice of decapitating the statues of
tyrants, alluded to by Hieronymus in Habacuc 4. “ Cum tyrannus detruncatur, imaginines
quogue eius deponuntur et statue yultu tantummodo commutato, ablatoque capite eius facies,
qui vicerit, superponitur.”

2° Tnevitabile crimen,
2° Atrocissime-

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noble lady, Apuleia Varilia, the grand niece of Augustus. The
charges are again of two kinds; first libellous expressions regarding
Augustus, Livia, and Tiberius; secondly adultery. It is worth while
to observe, how Tiberius treated these charges. He first waived all
inquiry into offences against himself, and after having taken the
opinion of Livia, into those also against her. The words spoken to
blacken the memory of Augustus, he at first desired to see punished,
but in the end he forgave them also; for the crime of adultery he
deprecated a very severe punishment, and limited it to banishment
from Rome.

These then are the formidable dimensions to which the law of high
treason had now grown.

Omitting a few irrelevant cases (Tac. Ann. ili. 38), the next
trial in order of time is that of the unfortunate poet C. Lutorius
Priscus (Tac. Aun. iii. 49, 51). He had written a poem on the
death of Germanicus, for which he had received a sum of money
from ‘Tiberius. Now he was accused of having composed a
similar poem to lament the death of Drusus, who was very ill, but
recovered. This imaginary anticipation of the death of the imperial
prince was proclaimed to be a heinous offence by his accuser, and in
the absence of Tiberius he was condemned to death by the senate, in
which there were only found two men bold enough to record a dis-
sentient vote. The cruel sentence was at once carried into execution.
This was done no doubt as a show of zeal and loyal attachment to the
reigning house. But when Tiberius heard of these proceedings, he
blamed the senate for their undue zeal and haste, and to prevent the
recurrence of similar acts, he caused a resolution to be adopted, that in
future ten days should elapse between the passing of a sentence and
its execution. This is a satisfactory proof, that the servile adherents
of the ruling potentate were more vehement and unforgiving in their
political animosities than their master, a phenomenon by no means
rare or exceptional in history, ancient or modern.

The next case is again introduced by Tacitus (Tac. Aun. tii. 66), with
one of those short, bitter, stinging remarks, which warp from the very
beginning the judgment of an incautious reader. ‘‘ Gradually,” he says,
« disgraceful scenes gave place to cruelty,” Let us see, who was the
innocent victim now. OC. Silanus, the Proconsul of Asia, a senatorial
province,” was accused of extortion by the inhabitants of the country,
he had plundered. The charge of high treason was added, but the
trial, which seems to have been a very important one, turned entirely

27 In which, as we have seen above, there was more scope for malversation than in those
provinces, which were under the immediate contro! of the Emperor.

;
{
:
;
}

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on Silanus’ misconduct in his province. His own questor and legate
joined in the accusation. The most eloquent pleaders were selected
from the whole province of Asia to conduct the prosecution. Tiberius
himself, always intent upon redressing the grievances of any mis-
governed province, took an active part in the trial. ‘‘And it was
considered to be beyond doubt,” says Tacitus, “that he was guilty
of cruelty and bribery.” What could possibly be the result but
condemnation and punishment? Yet Tacitus thinks, that Tiberius
required an excuse or pretext for the resolution he came to. He says
that for this reason he ordered a decree of the senate to be read, in
which was recorded the sentence on a similar offence of Messalla in the
reign of Augustus. If that was an uncommon proceeding, it was a
very sensible one, and in my opinion not a proof of any doubt on the
part of Tiberius of the justice of the sentence, but a guarantee for it.
After all the sentence was comparatively mild. Silanus was banished
to the island of Gyarus, and only part of his property was confiscated.

Among the Roman ladies, equally distinguished by ancient nobility
and the most reckless profligacy, was Lepida, descended from the
noble house of Aumilii, who could boast of having among her ancestors
two such men as L. Sulla and Pompey the Great. She had been
married to P. Quirinus, a man of immense wealth but plebeian extrac-
tion, who had distinguished himself under Augustus as a provincial
governor and commander. He seems to have enjoyed little happiness
with his noble spouse, who was much the younger. Foul and infamous
deeds were perpetrated or attempted by Lepida. Adultery and the
attempt to poison her husband were sufficient cause for Quirinus
to put her away. He left her to her dissolute life without caring to
punish her for what she haddone. After the lapse of twenty years we
find this noble Roman lady impeached of high treason. The charge
was, that she had consulted Chaldean soothsayers respecting the house
of Cesar. This charge, which seems trivial to us, derived weight at
the time from the general superstition of the age. Great power was
attributed to conjurers and sorcerers, and it was argued, that nobody
had an interest in enquiring into the fate of the imperial family,
except those who entertained ambitious or criminal hopes and projects.
Nevertheless Tiberius, with his usual magnanimity, ignored all those
charges, which affected himself. The other offence of Lepida, her
licentiousness and criminal attempts at murder, he justly considered
sufficiently atrocious to demand the strictest investigation and punish-
ment. He therefore insisted upon an enquiry.

What took place before the trial, is extremely characteristic of the
sentiments prevailing at that time with regard to right and wrong. On

0)

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a day of public theatrical representations, Lepida, accompanied by a
number of noble ladies, entered the theatre, and with mournful lamen-
tations invoking her ancestors, and especially Pompey, whose statues
adorned the building, which was itself’ a monument of his name, she
roused the spectators to such sympathy, that with tears in their eyes
they shouted savage imprecations against Quirinus, “ to whose sterile
old age and obscure family a woman was to be sacrificed, once the
destined spouse of L. Cesar, and the step-daughter of Augustus.”

But Tiberius was not the man to be infiuenced by the clamour of the
populace. The trial came on in due time. ‘To give perfect liberty to
the judges Tiberius requested, that his son Drusus, who as consul
elect ought to have been the first to give his vote, should be exempted
from this duty. But there could be no hesitation in the senate, no
doubt of Lepida’s guilt. The only question was as to the measure of
punishment. Some were for a mild sentence, but the majority voted
for exile, without confiscation of property.

In the whole of the proceedings, Tiberius appears to have acted asa
generous ruler, forgiving all offences against himself, and as a firm,
impartial, and incorruptible judge; yet strange to say, Suetonius
mentions this trial as an instance of rapacity, a vice from which we
know Tiberius to have been free as long as he lived; he has not a word
to say of the vices of Lepida, but hints, that this “most noble”
(genersissima) lady was condemned to gratify the rich Quirinus.

Tacitus is less unjust to Tiberius. He allows, that Lepida was
“infamous and guilty” (infamis ac nocens); he does not say, that she
was condemned unjustly or to please Quirinus; but he is nevertheless
somehow dissatisfied with Tiberius, though he can make no direct
charge. He says the Emperor confounded hostility and clemency, and
did not show his real sentiments. Could the great historian not
understand, that clemency and justice can be united together? that a
judge can generously waive offences of a personal kind against himself,
and yet strictly punish those, which affect society? It seems almost,
that the aristocratic republican had more sympathy with Lepida on
account of her nobility, than disgust for her profligacy and her crimes.

The unfairness of Tacitus and his rhetorical colouring become
equally apparent, when he is compelled to relate facts creditable to the
object of his aversion. The pardon granted to C. Cominius (Tac. Ann.
iv. 31), who had been proved guilty of a pasquil on Tiberius. is
introduced by a remark, which qualifies it as an exceptional act of
generosity, and followed by an expression of regret, that Tiberius,
though not destitute of the knowledge of right, persevered in his dark
course. This reflection is evidently intended to take away all credit

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from another act of justice, which the historian was under the necessity
of recording immediately after. This was the punishment of P.
Suilius, who when acting as judge had been guilty of receiving bribes.
Tiberius was on that occasion blamed for his severity, but the justice
of his decision was made apparent in the reign of his successor
Claudius, when Suilius, returned from exile, shamefully abused his
influence with that weak prince.

If the punishment of such a man as Suilius was received with
murmurs, we must be on our guard, lest we should take it for granted,
that the persons condemned, if we know no more of their case, than
that it excited compassion, were for the most part either entirely
innocent or not fairly treated. It would be very wonderful indeed, if
in such a corrupt age as that of Augustus and his successors there
had been no attempts at the life of the Emperor, no plots and
conspiracies to subvert the established government or any other crime,
which even by the fairest interpretation of established law would come
under the head of high treason. We have hitherto reviewed a number
of cases, from which it appears, that Tiberius is free from the blame of
straining the law into an instrument of despotic cruelty. It must not
be supposed however, that he was secure enough to let it fall into
abeyance ; nor can we expect, that with the very faulty machinery of
the Roman law courts the existence of this law could be without great
danger especially to men in high stations and of aspiring ambition.

The court, before which cases of high treason were tried, was the senate.
We know its abject servility, the eagerness of its members to anticipate
the secret wishes of their master, to hunt down his enemies and to
show their zeal in hastily inflicting sanguinary punishment. The
history of the state trials under Tiberius shows, that throughout he
was compelled to keep the senators in the bounds of moderation and
justice. Had he urged them on, whither they were naturally inclined,
they would have shrunk from no act of atrocity.

Such were the judges, men whom Tiberius loathed to look upon, and
whose assembly he never left without exclaiming in the words of a
Greek verse, “‘ What men, ready to be slaves.” But they were pure and
honourable, when compared with another set of functionaries in those
fatal trials, the accusers. ‘The Roman procedure did not know public
prosecutors. To bring offenders to justice therefore, many of the
criminal laws awarded to the prosecutor a portion of the fine or the
confiscated property of the condemned. Thus prosecution became a
trade, the vilest and most infamous of all; and though false and
malicious informers were often punished (Tac. Ann. iv. 81, iii. 87,
iii. 56), and occasionally put down by wholesale proscriptions, the

104

prospect of gain and favour proved an irresistible temptation, not only
to the low-born and needy adventurer, but often to the noblest senators.
I can only compare these men to the agents of a secret police.
Which of the two systems is the more subversive of truth and eon-
fidence of man in man, which the more infamous, I will not decide.
One thing is clear, that both are symptoms of timid and unstable
governments.

The working of the system just described is illustrated by the trial of
L. Scribonius Libo. This unfortunate young man, a descendant of
Pompey the Great, and connected with the imperial house itself, became
the victim of a false friend, the Senator Firmius Catus, who in the
most treacherous manner, and with the foulest object in view
inspired him with ambitious hopes and urged him to acts of a treason-
able character, such as the consultation of Chaldaean soothsayers
respecting his prospects of obtaining the government. To increase
his influence he was advised by Catus to launch into an extravagant
course of life. When Catus had collected sufficient evidence, he gave
information to Tiberius of Libo’s treasonable proceedings. This was
at a time, when the mutiny of the Illyrian and German legions and the
conspiracy of the slave Clemens, the pretended Posthumus Agrippa,
made the situation of Tiberius exceedingly critical. He had reason to
fear, that the machinations of Libo were aimed directly against his life.
Yet he refrained from taking decisive measures, whether from want of
confidence in his success, or because he had not sufficient evidence
of Libo’s guilt, we do not know. He contented himself therefore with
watching Libo and taking precautions for the present (Sueton. Tib. 25)
to guard against assassination. At last a new act of magical incantation
was reported by a certain Julius to Fulcinius Trio, one of the most
notorious informers. {The case was now brought before the senate.
Two more informers struggled for the infamy and profit of con-
ducting the accusations. But the case was breaking down on the
futility of the evidence, which related chiefly to the absurd conjuring
tricks of the Chaldean impostors, when Libo, in a fit of despair,
put an end to his life.“ Tiberius evidently considered him guilty at
least of treasonable intentions, but he declared, that, if Libo had not
rashly anticipated his own death, he would have interceded in his
favour. Whatever we may think of this declaration, it appears evident

28 In the course of this trial some of Libo’s slaves were brought forward to give evidence
against their master. As this was an illegal proceeding, the law was evaded by the previous
sale of the slaves, so that they were no longer Libo’s own. For this device Tacitus calls
‘Liberitis invidiously, ‘‘ Novi juris repertor,” intimating thereby, that such an act had never

taken place befure. This we know to be untrue. The honour of the first evasion of this
absurd law belongs to Augustus (Dion Cass. 55, 5.)

105

that, though Libo was more foolish than guilty, there was no course
open for 'l'iberius but to investigate the case, and to show his determi-
nation of punishing all similar attempts of a treasonable character.

A still more atrocious case of treachery than that of Catus took place
in the fourteenth year of the reign of Tiberius, during the ascendancy
of Sejanus. (Tac. Ann. iv. 68-70; Dion Cassius 58, 1.) Four
senators of Praetorian rank, desirous to obtain the consulship through
the influence of that powerful favourite, resolved to gain his
favour by conspiring to ruin Titius Sabinus, who was obnoxious to
him as a faithful adherent of the house of Germanicus. Latiaris
one of the infamous conspirators, wormed himself into the intimacy
and confidence of the unsuspecting Sabinus, by inveighing against the
tyranny of Tiberius and lamenting the sad fate of Aggrippina and her
children. By degrees he elicited similar complaints from Sabinus.
The plot promised to succeed. One day he brought Sabinus to his
house under the pretext of communicating important news. His three
fellow conspirators lay hiding and listening between the roof and the
ceiling. ‘The conversation revealed sufficient matter for an impeach-
ment of high treason. It seems that some plan of assassinating
Tiberius was discussed or mentioned. This was of course fatal to the
unhappy Sabinus, who was no sooner impeached than convicted and
sent to be executed.

It is impossible to say, how far Sabinus was really guilty of high
treason. Perhaps his offence did not amount to more than discontent.
At any rate the mode in which he was brought within the provisions
of the law coyered his vile accusers with everlasting infamy, nor is it
creditable to Tiberius to have listened to evidence so disgracefully
obtained.

The remaining cases” are either doubtful or unimportant. The
melancholy fate of Nero and Drusus, the two eldest sons of Germa-
nicus, is involved in impenetrable obscurity, nor can any light be thrown
on the general administration of justice from the terrible reaction after
the fall of Sejanus. It must be borne in mind, that the overthrow of
Sejanus and his adherents was nothing less than a civil war anticipated
by one party before the other was prepared. ‘The voice of justice was
drowned in the din of the wholesale massacres, which disgraced the
streets of Rome. But we have already hinted, that the descriptions
of those scenes, given especially by Suetonius, are greatly exaggerated,
and it is probable, that after the first outbreak was over, the stream of
justice gradually subsided into its old channels. Indeed we hear of
regular trials not long after this period, and one of them is that of the

29 See Rein Reem. Criminalrecht. p. 566 ff

106

poet Lutorius, a friend of Sejanus, who, as we have related above, was
actually acquitted. The times therefore could not have been quite so
bad even then, as Suetonius avers, who tells us, that “ every informer
received credit, and that every offence was treated as a capital crime.”
(Suet. Tib. 61).

We are now in a position to judge of the accuracy of Tacitus’ state-
ment, in which he commends in general terms the administration of
justice under Tiberius, but exempts from this praise the trials for high
treason. I think a candid historian would not characterize the adminis-
tration of this branch of the criminal law as harsher than was compatible
with strict principles of justice according to Roman notions ; he would
come to the conclusion, that Tiberius was not the bloodthirsty tyrant,
that the vulgate of history represents him to have been; that wanton
cruelty was foreign to his nature, that, though hard and severe, he was
less inclined to harsh measures than the majority of the public men
of his time, that he was more temperate than they, more generous,
more equitable, and every way more respectable and honourable.

What then was the cause of that odium of his contemporaries,
which has blackened his memory for so many generations? If our
analysis of his life and government is at all correct, this hatred was
ungenerous and unjust. It is not warranted or even explained by
his actions as an administrator, as a legislator, or a judge, as we
understand those terms, nor by his policy, if it is judged by a true
standard. The cause must be found therefore in a discrepancy
between the principles of government, which Tiberius adopted and
those, which his contemporaries approved of. We may distinguish two
classes of detractors of Tiberius—the aristocracy and the populace,
and the motives of both are easily explained.

The Roman aristocracy felt the transition from the republic to the
monarchy to be a loss both of political power and material profit.
This nobility was essentially a nobility of officials. Office opened its
ranks to a new comer, and office gave him influence and wealth. The
revenues of the state were looked upon as the legitimate patrimony of
a class. Since the expansion of the republic the provinces were
exposed to systematic robbery by the members of this aristocracy, who
at the beginning of their political career were generally poor and greedy,
because in the absence of the law of primogeniture the estates of a
family were constantly subdivided, and because the enormous expenses,
required to obtain office and to secure popularity, exhausted the
resources of the candidates for higher functions, before they went into
their provincial governments loaded with debt and eager to enrich
themselves during their terms of office. All the checks, which a few

107

honest men attempted to oppose to this iniquitous system, proved
fruitless. The courts established in Rome for the punishment of these
offenders were under the control of the offenders accomplices. The
aristocracy, represented by the senate, governed the vast aggregate of
countries according to their will and pleasure, The people, that is,
the populace of the capital, who had nominally the supreme legislative
power, were in reality nothing but a cumbrous machinery, which the
prevailing party of the aristocracy had only to manage and regulate
properly, in order to work it, as it best suited their purposes.

This state of things was thoroughly changed after the establishment
of the monarchy. ‘The nobility had to descend to the common level
of citizens and subjects ; they had to submit their proud necks to the
yoke, which pressed equally on all. Despotism knows no hereditary
privileges, no claims and rights of a favoured class. Common servitude
Jevels all ranks. Under it all distinctions are the result of personal
merit, they are no longer inherent in the blood. These unwelcome
truths the Roman nobility began to learn under Tiberius. Under
Augustus two reasons had reconciled them in a certain degree to their
changed position. In the first place they then for the first time tasted
the sweets of security and peace. They had only just emerged from
the most desolating civil wars, in which no man’s property and no
man’s life had been safe. Any system seemed better than that, end
they cheerfully purchased safety at the price of their ancient privileges.
Moreover they found in Augustus a cautious, mild and liberal ruler,
who did all he could to smooth down the asperity of the new system
and to make them believe, that the change was slight and perhaps
temporary. In Tiberius they found a man of a different temper. He
let them feel the full weight of his authority, he would allow of no
return to the old system of extortion and oppression, and though they
felt their total impotence and made no attempt at resistance, they had
so far forgotten the horrors of the civil wars, that they fondly cast their
eyes upon those times, indulged in their enthusiasm for the period of
their glory and liberty, and in their total impotence and in the
hopelessness of their servitude they revenged themselves on their
oppressor by the most cordial hatred. This feeling was shared by the
historian Tacitus to a certain degree. He was a republican and an
aristocrat and his “indignation and partisanship,” though he disclaims
them, are apparent on every page. Te was however too honest to
falsify facts and thus we are enabled, as I have attempted to show,
to form our own conclusions, to reject the party zeal and rancour
of a nearly contemporary writer and to judge Tiberius by the more
impartial standard of posterity.

108

In the downfall of the glory of the Roman aristocracy all the in-
habitants of the capital were indirectly fellow-sufferers. They could no
longer traffic in their votes, they had no longer to be conciliated by
largesses and pleasures. Like the aristocracy, they also passed first
through the transition period of Augustus, who was gay, liberal, fond
of public rejoicings, processions, theatres, games, and gladiatorial
combats. All this gaiety was nearly abruptly put an end to under the
retired and economical Tiberius. He reluctantly and rarely granted
the shows in which the people took their greatest delight. He never
attended them in person, unless on rare occasions. His austere
character and morose demeanour, his taciturnity and coldness placed
him in unfavourable contrast with Augustus, who had freely and gaily
mixed with the people in their public holidays. For the first time the
people felt, that they were of no account; they saw the mockery of
sovereignty taken from them, they acknowledged their master, they
quailed before him, and found their chief consolation and their
only revenge in hatred. Thus it was, that the. memory of this Em-
peror was cursed by his contemporaries and loathed by all succeeding
generations, an Emperor who was one of the few men of a wretched
period, who deserve our respect, a man, who had no specious qualities,
which captivate the vulgar eye, but who was a statesman and a ruler
of the first-class; a man, whom though we cannot love, we are bound
to esteem. He was not free from the vices of his race, his age, and
his position. As a Roman he was proud, haughty, imperious, hard-
hearted to the verge of cruelty; as a sovereign on an insecure throne
he was jealous, suspicious, dissimulating, crafty; as a Claudian he was
sarcastic, bitter, and overbearing. The dangers of his early life and
the ignominious treatment of his more powerful relatives had made
him taciturn, cold, retired, misanthropic; the conduct of the public
men of his time and of the populace inspired him with a supreme
contempt of men. But on the other hand he was austere, plain, and
frugal in his private life; free from vanity and ostentation, though
earnestly striving to secure the respect of all good men and an unsul-
lied name in the annals of his country; firm in dangers, economical of
the resources of the state, active, indefatigable, conscientious in the
administration of public affairs, wise in council, just and generous as a
judge, fearless and regardless of obloquy. Such was the man, whom a
great historian of England has called a “detestable and detested monster,”
and the events of whose reign, as it has been said but lately by an
eminent scholar, are ‘ little more than the exhibition of his detestable
character.” I have ventured to raise my voice for this outcast, and I
hope that history will reconsider her verdict, and give him his due.

109

NINTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Institution, on the 23rd February, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., PresipEnt, in the Chair.

Thomas Hutchinson, Esq., H.M. Consul at Fernando Po, was

elected a Corresponding Member of the Society.

. The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
Henry Imuacn, M.D. i pant 008
JaMEs Lewis.

Mr. R. W. Anperson exhibited some specimens of silver to which
the irridescent colours of mother-of-pearl had been transferred.

Dr. Epwarps exhibited a specimen of amylene, a new anesthetic
agent, introduced by Dr. Snow as a substitute for chloroform, for
producing insensibility to pain. It was said to produce less nausea and
more rapid effects than the substances already employed. It was a
very volatile clear liquid, lighter than ether, and but little more than
half the weight of water. It boiled at 102° Fahrenheit, and its vapour
was 24 times heavier than air. It had a very penetrating and peculiar
odour, and its effects were very transient. It was a simple hydro-
carbon, isomeric with olefiant gas, and contained carbon 10, hydrogen
10. It was prepared by the action of anhydrous phosphoric acid upon
potato spirit, but as several ethereal impurities were also formed, it was
with difficulty rectified therefrom. It would probably be useful in
special cases, but was not likely to supersede chloroform.

The CHarrman reminded the meeting that he had mentioned, on
a former occasion, the circumstance of finding the marks of a forester’s
axe on one of the trees of the submarine forest at Blackpool. He had
lately visited the same spot, between Fleetwood and Blackpool, and had
seen two trees bearing the same unmistakeable marks ; showing that
these submarine forests were comparatively recent.

The following paper was then read :—

ON THE STUDY OF THE FUNGI.
By Tue Rey. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., V.P.

Havine briefly stated the course which he considered the title to

suggest, the author alluded to the causes which had led to the

comparative neglect of that particular branch of study. Springing up

in the midst of corruption and decay, fungi were formerly regarded
p

110

with a kind of superstitious loathing,—a feeling which is even yet not
altogether eliminated. In this country, the cottage naturalists, who in
days gone by adorned our botany with a store of graceful names,—
such as eyebright, goldylocks, heartsease, maidenhair, meadow-sweet,
pennyroyal, self-heal, silverweed, snowdrop, wake-robin, and many
others,—applied to the Fungi only such terms as were expressive of
abhorrence: paddock-stools, stink-horns, jews’-ears, witches’ butter, and
the like. And on the continent, though certain esculent species
received happier titles—for example, the morelle, chanterelle, and the
mouceron,—yet the German popular names, as recorded by Scheeffer,
are but little in advance of our own. Few indications could be given
more conclusive than this as to the general dislike and contempt
in which the fungi were held; and he was a bold as well as an observing
man, who first ventured to devote his time and his name to a vindica:
tion of their right to be esteemed not less perfect, nor less interesting,
than other portions of that work, the whole of which was pronounced
by the Great Creator to be very good. Pier Antonio Michelli seems to
have been the first botanist who gave much attention to the lower
orders of the Cryptogamia. He was born in Florence in the year 1679,
of parents in humble life, by whom he was consigned to the business of
bookselling. Michelli, however, became inspired with so great a love
for the study of plants, that he gave up his occupation, and afterwards
became botanist to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and superintendent of
the Botanic Gardens at Florence. Several of his writings are still
held in high estimation, but the work on which his fame chiefly rests
is that in which he announces the real nature of the sporidia in the
fungi, and overthrows the popular notion of these plants having an
anomalous or equivocal mode of generation. Michelli died in 1737,
from exhaustion induced by his arduous search after plants in the
mountainous parts of Northern Italy. His researches were continued
with much success by Bulliard in 1791, and Persoonin 1801, and more
recently by Link and Nees von Hsenbeck. But the name which fills
the highest place in the list of mycologists is undoubtedly that of Fries;
in whom we find such great talents for description and classification, com-
bined with such zeal for collecting, that he is said to have “passed half
his life in forests,” The most modern and complete work upon the
subject is that of Corda, which it is very difficult to obtain perfect.
Compared with older productions, the volumes of Corda illustrate
the immense advantage afforded by the use of the microscope in the
identification of species. Plates are now certainly less essential to the
botanist than they were, and those which are of most value contain
representations of magnified portions of plants. We must not how-

|

-ever disparage or omit to mention the plates executed by our own
-countryman, Sowerby, such as have never been surpassed, and which
-are unrivalled as depicting, though sometimes with exaggeration, the
characteristic forms and mode of growth of the fungi. More beauti-
‘fully finished and scientific in design are the figures in Dr. Greville’s
admirable work, the value of which is greatly enhanced by details and
-descriptions. The most essential book for the student of British
Mycology is, however, the volume in the English Flora, written by the
‘Rey. M. J. Berkeley. The arrangement is chiefly after Fries, but the
descriptions indicate the author's thorough practical acquaintance with
-the subject. Mr. Berkeley has also written notices of about seven
‘hundred additional species, in the Annals and Magazine of Natural
History.

The writer next treated of the several divisions or orders of the Fungi,
following the arrangement of Montagne, who had classed them under
-six principal. denominations, namely the coniomycetes or powdery
fungi; the hyphomycetes or tissue-like fungi; the gasteromycetes or
_pouched fungi; the pyrecomycetes or nucleated fungi; the discomy-

cetes or discoid fungi; and the hymenomycetes or complicated exos-

porous fungi. For the English terms the writer was himself respon-
sible, and in the elucidation of the habits and properties of the several
species belonging to these orders, he exhibited several beautiful speci-
mens, which were dwelt upon at much length, and in an exceedingly
luminous and interesting manner.

Having dismissed this, the most important part of his subject
{one which was not put in writing, and unfortunately, therefore,
cannot be transferred to these pages), the rev. gentleman pro-
ceeded as follows :—In a letter received not long ago from Mr. Ward,
he says, “I am much pleased with your account of the case of fungi
in the Museum of the Royal Institution. Might I venture to suggest
a second case? By placing the poisonous species in one, and the edible
fungi in another, you would confer a great boon on the labouring
classes, who might thus learn to avoid the hurtful species, and avail
themselves of the numerous wholesome and edible species, which are
now unavailable from want of knowledge. We have in this respect
much to learn from our continental neighbours. Some years ago I
passed two or three autumnal weeks in the Lombardo-Venetian States,
and was much surprised at the very great number of species, and the
large amount of each, that were exhibited in the markets. Although
a very trifling duty is imposed on their sale, the amount of the duty in
one of the states reaches £2,000 per annum. An inspector is appointed
by each government to prevent the admixture of unwholesome species.”

112

Mr. Ward stands by no means alone in his estimate of the importance
of fungi as an article of food. Almost. all writers on the subject
express their regret that many excellent species growing in this
country ‘are altogether neglected ; and the Rev. I. Badham has pub-
lished a work in which he figures and describes the edible fangi of
Britain. I do not myself deem it likely that many of the fungi will
ever be extensively used for food in this country. The diffieulty of dis-
tinguishing the poisonous kinds from those that are reputed to be whole-
some is considerable. Some species may be eaten with impunity, if
gathered in a young state, which are highly injurious when they are old.
Many species are no doubt palateable ; some are said to havea flavour
far superior to that of the common mushroom ; but it is questionable if
any of the fungi are at all eminently nutricious. Many articles of food
are highly prized on the continent, to which we cannot reconcile
ourselves, though they are both harmless and nutricious; some we
neglect as not corresponding with the appetite of a Briton—the black-
birds and thrushes of our groves and hedges for example. Long may
we remain in ignorance of their value as food. Edible fungi do
not abound near Liverpooi, mushrooms, the Agaricus eampestris,
excepted. I do not know a species which could be found in sufficient
abundance for an important article of food. The Boleti abound in the
plantations of Stourton, but among them the edible species are the
least common. The Chanterelle grows freely at Eastham, but there are
two species, differing very slightly in appearance, and one of them is
said to be poisonous.

Fungi are found on subdstances in every state of decay, but more
frequently on such as are in its earlier stages. Comparatively few fungi
grow either on healthy or on rotten wood or leaves; both extremes of
vigour and decay being apparently equally unfavourable for their
support. It is at the point of time when growth and life have ceased,
and before the vegetable tissue is disorganized, that fungi generally
seize upon a plant, and by their own brief period of existence shorten
the process of decomposition, This may, perhaps, in some measure
account for the scarcity of fungi in the spring and early summer, when
the moist and warm weather might seem to be especially adapted for
their production. Yet we find them not in any considerable numbers
till autumn calls them forth just at the crisis which they need, and
when they are needed. Myriads of leaves and branches then part with
vigour, though they retain their original form. In such a con-
dition they are useless. ‘Then appear the fungi, and when the season
of cold is past, and trees and flowers again make large demands upon
the soil for materials for stem, and bud, and blossom, it is found that

113

during their winter sleep the fungi have been silently elaborating the
proper vegetable elements, have changed the useless withered leaf and
hard block into rich mould, and have thus made provision for the
leaves and flowers of spring.

In the course of forming a collection of specimens in any
branch of natural history, much time is necessarily spent in the
study of descriptions indicating points of difference between closely
allied species, and seldom even touching upon the higher and
more interesting distinctions which separate the larger groups.
These minute details, which have again and again to be consulted
and examined, and compared, before its proper place in the series
ean be assigned to any unfamiliar species, are often felt to be un-
profitable and wearisome. Yet there is something in the habits of
many of the fungi calculated to give an unusual zest even to such’ dry
dictionary work as this. Their growth is peculiarly capricious ; at all
events it seems to be so, and they come and go, no one can tell how or
why. Take for example some of the smaller agarics—little fragile
plants which appear like the foundlings of nature. You find upon
the lawn, some bright morning in autumn, a vegetable form so slender
that it trembles with a breath, and its head droops under the weight of
the drops of dew with which it is studded. It is a stranger, and its
stay will hardly be prolonged till noon. So fleeting and fairy-like an
object might well be thought nothing more than a gem cast off by
nature in a sportive mood. Yet the oak or the palm is not more true
to its kind. ‘Take your book and search till you find its description :
every portion will correspond,—the texture of the stem, the form of the
hymenium, even the colour and shape of the minute spores are all exactly
recorded. It was to you a stranger, but some observer of nature, perhaps
years before and hundreds of miles away, had found a little dewy plant
upon his grass plot in the morning, had written its description and
given ita name. You are looking on the beauties that he too saw and
admired, for the plants though so far distant had a common parent, and
sprang from the same stock. That can hardly be a dry description
which affords so pleasant a sympathy.

Recent investigations have made it all but certain that every species
of fungus is produced in strict accordance with the Jaws which regulate
the distribution of other plants. It is admitted that no plant can be
produced without the previous presence of some portion of a plant of
the same species. The portion may be a seed, or a bud, or a piece of
the stem, or of a leaf, or a fibre of the root: it affects not our present
argument what portion, but some reproductive particle of a parent plant
must, under all circumstances, originate the growth of another plant

14

of the same species. And this rule is applicable to the fimgi. Now
it is found that fungi are produced in almost all vegetable substances
when submitted to favourable conditions of heat and moisture.
Bread, for instance, if left for a considerable time in a stagnant
atmosphere, is covered with mould. This mould, on examination, is
found to be a growth of one of the Mucoriuw, Ascophora mucedo
This plant grows on various substances, but bread will, I believe,
always produce it. Whence then is it derived? It must arise from
one of two sources. ‘The reproductive particles must either exist in
the bread itself, or be conveyed through the atmosphere. If we take
the latter supposition, it is tantamount to regarding the atmosphere as
charged with the reproductive particles of Ascophora mucedo. If the
latter alternative be adopted we must regard all the bread that is made
as similarly affected. But the Ascophora is only one of many parasitic
fungi which seem always to be developed, under circumstances favour-
able to their germination, on all sorts of common substances,—straw,
paper, matting, ropes, cheese, gum, living flies, fruit of all kinds, ink,
leather, all have their parasites of this class; and whether the germs
reside in the substances themselves or are brought by the atmosphere,
we are compelled to admit a most extraordinary prevalence of fungoid
particles, not one in many millions of which is ever developed into a
perfect plant. It is not, however, improbable that these minnte par-
ticles have a very powerful influence upon the health and condition of
maukind ; an influence which might be more or less under our control,
if the facts were thoroughly investigated, but which at present is almost
altogether unrecognised or unexplored.

It is not easy to over-estimate the importance of observing the
unfailing regularity of nature in every process of that vast change which
goes on unceasingly, but ever according to fixed laws governing all her
operations, from the upheaving of a continent to the germination of a
spore. A firm persuasion of this regularity in nature may exercise no
unimportant influence upon our estimation of the value of a miracle ;
and when we find that once, in attestation of a message of mercy and
goodwill to mankind, the chain of natural cause and effect was broken,
it may happen that our inclination to trust in a message so attested, may
increase with our appreciation of the strength of continuity in that
chain; and if the strength of the whole be only that of the weakest.
portion, it may be well for us to have traced how firm and unyielding
is every link, as we descend towards the obscure and lowest limit of
things which may be seen. Such is the position of some of the fungi.
Amongst them, if anywhere, we might expect to meet with anomalies.
I may not venture to say that botanical science has proved there are

115

none; but this much is certain, that as more and more light has been
thrown on the difficult and obscure portions of the works of God, the
boundaries of perfect law and order have become visibly extended, and
have kept pace with the retiring shades of ignorance. What more
need we to convince us that those boundaries are co-extensive with
creation? Cause and consequence are universal; interruption is
divine interposition.
The next paper was entitled—

AN ENTOMOLOGICAL RAMBLE TO THE SANDHILLS'
BETWEEN NEW BRIGHTON AND LEASOWE, CHESHIRE.
By JAMES FITZHERBERT BROCKHOLES, Hse.

In this paper the author embodied the results of many rambles, some
of them nocturnal, described the modus operandi, and gave a lively
account of the incidents attending. After explaining the nature of the
ground, and the reasons why it was favourable to entomological
pursuits, he went on to say :—

During the first three months of the year, there are few insects
flying on the hills to induce the entomologist to frequent them; in
April, however, he may begin the pursuit, even though the number of
species is as yet small.

The majority of those which are now out, form almost a group of
themselves, and are peculiarly spring insects. Hibernated specimens
of autumn lepidoptera reappear now, and may sometimes be taken
abundantly, associated with such as are newly hatched; the willows,
or, as they are called by entomologists, sallows, now in flower, affording
the best habitats. After minutely describing the locality, and a walk
on a calm evening, the author goes on to say :—

Here is another common insect, the Hibernia rupicapraria, which is
not worth the boxing. A third appears which proves to be rather
better; it is Anticlea badiaria, and this specimen will complete a
series; Harpalyce suffwmaria, Ennomos illunaria, and Eupithecia
rufifasciaria may also be taken now. What is that little thing which
flies so quickly ? A Depressaria pulcherrimella is in the net, and as
it is a desideratum we will take it. Here is the common Depressaria
applana flying in abundance, but pass them; we are now at the gate,
so let us to the sallows. The evening is calm and mild, and likely to
be suitable in every respect ; how beautifully are the blossoms out, and
how sweetly they smell. Stand awhile by this bush to see if the moths
are coming to them yet. Here is one; wait, it has not settled.
How gracefully it threads its way through the twigs in search of a fresh

116

flower. There, it stops! Whatis it? Taniocampa opima is a good
insect, and is one of the principal ones in this locality; we will there-
fore take it. ‘There is another settling; that is T@niocampa gracilis,
and is prized. There is something on that other flower, but it is too
dark to distinguish it, so light the lantern. Look at this specimen
which is dark looking and in an awkward position. Put the net under
it and shake the twig gently. Down it drops, and proves to be
Teniocampa rubricosa. Another moth is flying about, but as it is
not necessary that all should settle on the sallows, we will net it.
This is T@niocampa cruda, the least and most insignificant moth of
the genus : there are no more on this bush, so let us examine the next,
A crimson speck shines very brightly there in the middle, and may be
worth examining, as it will prove to be the eye of a moth, the rarest of
the genus in this district, Teniocampa populeti ; another moth on the
same twig is T@niocampa instabilis, one of the most variable and
plentiful of British lepidoptera. There are two more very common
species, which are, however, less frequent here than in the neighbourhood
of oak trees, and these are the Gothica and Stabilis. An Anticlea
badiaria sits upon a conspicuous flower further on, with an hibernated
specimen of Peronea Hastiana: these include ail the vernal species
met with in this locality of the hibernated autumn Noctue. One or
more specimens of at least one of the above-named species will recur on
most bushes visited, besides a few others, as Calocampa ewxoleta,
Phlogophora meticulosa, Scopelosoma satellitia, Glea spadicea and
G. vaccinii. Calocampa vetusta is rare in the neighbourhood, but as it
flies in the spring, it might be found on the sallows here.

In visiting the sallows, a good light is requisite, otherwise we should
pass many things unobserved, and a dark lanthorn is indispensable,
since with it the light can be obscured until the moment it is wanted.
By this mancuvre the moths remain on the flowers until the entomo-
logist is near enough to catch them ; whereas, if the lanthorn is always
shining, the majority of the moths are often scared from the flowers
before they can possibly be even seen. Another thing must be recom-
mended; and that is to examine the bushes very carefully, otherwise
many specimens, through being in curious positions, would escape
detection.

Our next excursion will be to the very heart of the sandhills,
towards the end of April, not in pursuit of many species, but to look for
one only which has as yet arrived at maturity. Passing through
Wallasey village we arrive at the margin of the hill, where we turn to
the left and walk some distance towards Leasowe. In our progress we
pass two small plantations of poplar and willow trees, situated on the

117

margin of the hills to the west of the village; these are favourite
resorts during summer, and are very prolific in moths, but for the
present we will pass them. Having done so, we will turn at
right angles, and go between two little hills into a rather extensive
valley, well grown with the dwarf silky willow. Here may now
be found fine larve of Orgyia fascelina and Lusiocampa quercus, and
young larve of Lasiocampa trifolii. The main object of our present
walk, the Nyssia zonaria, may be also found here sleeping on the
willow twigs, or on any tuft of herbage growing near : this is a sluggish
insect in the day-time, and requires no skill to capture. In mild
weather it may be readily seen ; but when it is cold or windy, it creeps
into some corner on the sheltered side of a tuft of grass or carex, and
lies very clese, it then requires to be more carefully looked for.
Sometimes this insect is plentiful here, and occasionally the apterous
females are more abundant than the males. We will now leave this
valley, and examine the short thick grass on the sunny slopes in quest
of the cocoons of Lasiocampa rubi and Phragmatobia fuliginosa; the
former is a long, slight, semilunar cocoon, and is often spun in those
places where the burnet-leaved rose is freely mixed with the grass, and
has one end near the ground, whilst the other often appears above the
herbage The second is also slight, but is of a roundish form, and may
be mistaken for a spider's nest: both require to be looked for closely,
This spot may be frequented throughout May and June in pursuit of
Harpalyce galiaria and Lozogramma lineolaria; it also produces
several beautiful little Pyrales, which flit swiftly amongst the roses
whilst the sun is shining, and require a quick eye, close attention, and
sharp practice to catch them: these are Rhodaria sanguinalis, Pyrausta
cingulalis, P. purpuralis, and P. ostrinalis.

Our next ramble will be early in June, not to any particular spot, but
to beat the banks wherever any suitable ones occur. The bare banks
axe freqnently crested with dead vegetable matter, tufts of which lie
scattered on the slopes. Numbers of moths resort to these for their
daily concealment and sleep, and may be readily shaken out. If the
sand is cool when the insects are shaken upon it, they will generally
remain there until secured ; but should it be hot through the action of
the sun, they will fly directly away, and then it is almost useless to run
after them as they generally escape. Lupernia infesta, L. albicolon,
Spalotis precox, aud many athers may be taken in this way. The
method of attracting Noctue by means of syrup composed of honey,
sugar or treacle, and rum, is practised with great advantage. This
mixture should be daubed in small patches on the trunks of trees,
where these are met with near the sandhills, on posts, or any other

Q

118

available places, or even on the foliage of bushes at sunset. As the
darkness increases the moths gradually begin to fly until the whole
are on the wing, and when satisfied with their flutter they settle.
By and bye the lanthorn may be lit, and the syrup examined. The
season for collecting is now rapidly approaching its height, and so
many species may be taken here that all cannot be enumerated in this
paper; we will, therefore, mention only a few of the principal ones.
Of the Sphinges, Cherocampa porcellus may sometimes be taken here
on syrup; the Noctue are, however, the chief family sought for, and
of these the following may be mentioned Heliothis Marginata, Orthosia
Ypsilon, Leucania Comma, L. Littoralis, Agrotis Corticea, A. Valligera,
A. Cursoria, A. Tritici, A. Aquilina, A. Puta, Caradrina Alsines, C.
Morpheus, Miana Furuncula ; Noctua Triangulum ; Rusina Tenebrosa ;
Hadena Lutulenta ; Calocampa Vetusia; and others. They do not all
appear at once, but may be taken here from time to time. Many lepi-
doptera of other families may also be obtained here during the summer
and autumnal months.

At the end of July the ragwort (Senecio Jacobea) is bursting into
flower, and is a noted attraction for many lepidoptera. With regard
to the moths, the various species of Agrotis, &c., together with Spelotis
precox, and many others which fly at the end of July and during
August, are those to be sought for. It is well to add before leaving
this plant, that the night flying Noctue are, in summer, frequently
driven from their usual hiding places by the heat, and that, tired of
flying, they resort to the ragwort flower by day, where they are fanned
by the cool breeze whilst resting in mid-air, and where they may
frequently be taken abundantly.

There is another method of capture, very servicable at the end of
August and during autumn, when the nights are becoming long and
dark. It is to use a lamp which throws a strong, bright light. This
is av attraction for many species which are seldom taken by any other
means. By this plan we may find the Lupernia cespitis. This is a
rare and peculiar insect, which indulges in midnight revelry, and
any little hill, or slope which has a landward aspect is the spot to be
selected. The insect now appears, but goes again, and shortly repeats
its gyrations, then dashes at the lamp which it cannot reach ; it plunges
about in every direction, but is netted by the entomologist and secured.
At this season we must expect many--wasted specimens not worth
taking, for the summer species are al] dying out.

The author here referred to the method of rearing insects for the
cabinet, which, though a troublesome process, is vail one most likely te
‘secure delicate specimens.

119 ©

. Returning to the decoy lamp, he says—now, there are half a dozen
arrivals almost at the same time, of which two or three are good speci-
mens of Heliophobus Popularis, and the rest are injured ones of other
species. At intervals moths continue to come, sometimes singly and
sometimes in numbers until at last they cease. With patient expecta-
tion we still stand by, until we think the majority, at least, have
settled down to rest; or we may occupy the time in examining the
adjacent bank, where, attracted by the honey-dew upon the rose-bush,
moths may be feeding. With the aid of our pocket lanthorn, we look
carefully over the leaves, occasionally finding a good specimen of Spealotis
precox, or an Agrotis. ‘The large spider, too, which often abounds
here, will afford amusement for an interval when there is nothing
coming to the lamp; a specimen has just come to the latter, which
proves to be the common Lupernia testacea, Again a pause ensues,
during which we will examine the neighbouring hedge; a specimen
here is the Anthocelis lunosa, and another further on is the Epunda.
lichenea ; the latter insect is partial to resting on dead fences after
dark, and may be taken in such situations more freely than in any
others. A dark moth is dashing about the lamp, so we'll hasten up to
secure it; it is Lupernia cespitis. In appearance, this is not an
attractive species, having the anterior wings black, and the under wings
rather a dirty white, giving the idea of “shabby gentility,” but much
prized by collectors from the rarity of the capture. This method of
attracting insects may be pursued with success till winter.

A keen appetite and the want of exercise make the tired entomologist
feel the dewy chill which prevails after midnight. Experience has
taught us that refreshment is highly beneficial, and with this in
view, we have come provided with sandwiches, a can of water, and
the ingredients for making coffee; the lamp supplies the fire. No
doubt there are still many who think that the entomologist’s rambles
are a succession of pleasant walks in pursuit of gay insects, which flit
about in sunshine amidst delightful flowers and fine scenery—walks !
which are attended with no trouble or annoyance—walks ! which while
away a few pleasant hours in catching pretty things; and then, when
change is wanted, a pleasant walk home again. ‘This is certainly
a popular idea which must not be entertained, The pursuit of
entomology is really pleasant, but it has its drawbacks ; and there are
few occupations which require greater powers of mind or body. A good
entomologist should possess patience, perseverance, endurance, and a fair
share of ingenuity ; he should be capable of much bodily exertion, and
able to take long walks to his ground, where he must often combat dis-
appointment ; he must be able, too, to run, to jump hedges and ditches,

. 120

to climb trees or rocks, and if necessay, to wade in brooks, ponds, or bogs.
His eyes must be able to detect a minute moth, as it flits by in bright
sunshine or twilight, or a larger one in midnight darkness ; to observe
traces of insects in a plant, tree, bark or wall crevice, and in the thou-
sand and one other places which conceal them; to stand, too, the
bright glare of a summer sun, on burning sand or sparkling sheet of
water, and to distinguish at a glance whether or not a captured speci-
men is worth taking. In his rambles he must often endure besides,
fatigue, hunger, thirst, and wet clothes ; and at home he will spend
many weary, though pleasant hours, in setting out his captures, and

arranging his collections. Occasionally, also, a cross-grained farmer,
gamekeeper, or “ official,” will warn him from his hunting ground,
sometimes with reason, though more frequently without cause. A
host of other annoyances, such as children flocking round him; ocea-
sionally vicious bulls or savage dogs, yelping curs, flies, gnats, prickly
bushes and thorns, assault him on all sides. On his arrival at home,
he should proceed without delay to kill his stock. All moths, except
green ones, which do not measure more than one and a half
inches, may be smothered with sulphur without much injury.

If a number of pill boxes containing specimens, be placed under a
glass shade, with the lids slightly raised, and the fumes of half a dozen
lucifer matches be allowed to pass into the shade, the moths con-
tained will be ready for setting in the course of half an hour. If
removed from the cause of death too soon, many will revive and
spoil themselves with fluttering. Chloroform may be used without
injury to colour, and is therefore useful in the case of green insects
which are spoiled by sulphur. The volatility of chloroform makes it
dangerous if used carelessly ; and if administered in too strong doses,
the moths are made too rigid, and cannot therefore be set. Large in-
sects may be killed either with chloroform or by being pierced under
the wing with a sharp spike dipped in a strong solution of oxalic acid.
When dead, the specimens may be taken from the boxes and assorted
preparatory to setting. Each of those which are good, must have a
suitable pin pushed straight through the thorax until a moderate length
of it appears on the underside. When all are pinned, arrange them on
setting boards suitable in size, and then place the wings in the desired
position by means of fine pins, and retain them there till dry, with fine
thread or paper. The setting boards should be of various sizes, adapted
to the size of the insect, and should be long enough to hold from one
to six specimens. They should have an arched surface to impart a
graceful curve to the wings, and a groove down the centre to admit the
bodies.

121

TENTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Instirurron, on the 9th of March, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Esa., M.D., Preswweyz, in the Chair.

The following gentlemen were elected Ordinary Members :—
JoHN BripGe ASPINALL,
Rosert A. Macrie,
WALTER SAUNDERS,
CHRISTOPHER BELL.

Dr. Thomson read the following letter from Dr. Livingstone, the
African explorer, in reply to the address from the Society (p. 76), and
his letter accompanying it :—

London, 57, Sloane-street, 26th February, 1857.

My Dear Sir,—I had the honour to receive a very gratifying address from
the members of your Society, touching my late discoveries in Africa, at an early
period of the present month, and it was accompanied with a very polite request
to deliver a lecture to the Society during my passage through Liverpool.

I regret that my engagements have been of such a nature as to prevent my
returning proper acknowledgements for your very kind and flattering expressions
of approbation. I really feel very grateful for the good opinion of such a body
ofmen. Our feelings, however, are somewhat different. They kindly look to
the past—I look to the future, and see so much hard work in store before I
can think myself entitled to the words ‘‘ well done,” I never become elated. I
can thank you, however, for your sympathy, and do so most sincerely.

' My time is so very limited (and I am no public speaker either) that the only
effort I could feel myself ever justified in attempting, would be to address the
constituents of the London Missionary Society, many of whom live in your
town.—Believe me, sir, most sincerely yours,

; DAVID LIVINGSTONE.

Letters were also read upon the subject of the Austrian Expedition
round the World, from Dr. Karl Scherzer to James Yates, Esy.,
Corresponding Member.

Mr. T. C. Arcuer exhibited a very beautiful case of anatomised seed
vessels and leaves, prepared by Mr. Hawse, of London, whose beautiful
manipulation of these delicate objects is most remarkable. The seed
vessels were chiefly those of the campanula, poppy, &c., and the leaves
those of the magnolia grandiflora, ivy, and others. They were most
tastefully arranged, and interspersed with bleached preparations of
Aira cespitosa, Lagurus ovatus, Briza maxima, ferns, lycopodiums, &c.,
and were presented to the Museum of the Royal Institution.

Mr. Arcuer also exhibited a cut flower of the curious aroideous
plant, called in North America the skunk flower, Symplocarpus fatidus,
which, from its resemblance to one of the common large dark-coloured
cowrie shells, excited some interest.

122

The first paper for the evening was then read,

ON THE ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED FROM THE
ADOPTION OF THE METRICAL TON OF 1000 KILO-
GRAMMES IN THE MEASUREMENT OF SHIPS.

By JAMES YATES, Esq., F.R.S., F.S.A.*

The metrical ton is now recognised, and is now practically adopted
by a considerable number of the principal mercantile nations,

It is established in France, Belgium, Holland, Prussia, Hamburg,
and the other Hanseatic ports, Denmark, the kingdom of Sardinia,
Algeria, and several South American States. Its adoption, after a few
years, has been decreed by the governments of Spain and Portugal.

Besides Great Britain and its dependencies, the only commercial
nations of importance which do not already use the metrical ton are the
United States of North America, Russia, Sweden, Greece, Turkey, and
Egypt. There can be no doubt that these latter countries would adopt
it, if Great Britain led the way.

The metrical ton being equal to 1000 kilogrammes, while the
British ton is nearly 1015, differing only by 14 per cent., it is
evident that no objection can arise from the adoption of the former,
except the temporary inconvenience which accompanies every change.
According to a return issued by the Board of Trade, the exports from
the United Kingdom in 1855, consisting of British and Ivish produce
and manufactures, amounted in value to £95,688,085, or nearly
£96,000,000. The countries which use the metrical ton, and are
included in this statement of exports, are as follows :—

Prussia, Hanover, and the Hanseatic Towns ...£9,787,600

HIFAN COV Sian ces asada eos cesaveds Meee des ese cee ewes 6,012,658
Tolan gives cess sevectare acces Bees Weeacectees sian eee 4,558,210
SALGINIA, tac ste sc cceansencekouocasiess caticecess: dees 853,916
IBelOWMN carecssaesaee Sahacioe deasecasegeeen suGaneee 1,704,693
PONG A a ahacac san thcatenmeryse cad san vce sepeirenan cee 1,475,713
PS PMUEL Bets cve fuswedone deve te Neel tigcs ov daidie nuax sees 1,268,815
Denmark (?)........ Gay at cede nso tans sob ee oa des 759,656
New Granada ..........00. Fas a wiaiaia eaten w aie sean « 588,935
Mexico ...+...++. Siticad dacnawae rere ce Saaiscone chev 585,898

£27,596,094

* This paper was read by the Rev. J. Robberds, the author of the paper being absent
through illness. A note from Mr. Yates stated that he had communicated to Rear-Admiral
the Earl of Hardwicke, chairman of the Tonnage Registration Committee, and to other
members of that committee, his ideas upon the subject, and that they had acknowledged
the importance of his views, thinking that the measurement and registration of ships’
tonnage would never be perfect until it became international.

123

Thus the portion of these exports sent to countries using the metrical
ton may be stated at £28,000,000 nearly. A considerable proportion
of the countries to which the remaining £68,000,000 of goods were
exported do not use either the English or the metrical ton, but some
other weight. So large a proportion of our foreign commerce being
already carried on with nations using the metrical ton, it appears
highly probable that its adoption by Great Britain would speedily lead
to its universal adoption throughout the world. Nor can it be ques-
tioned that this would be a most proper adjunct to the recent alteratious
of the Navigation Law, by which the ships of all countries are per-
mitted to carry goods to and from Great Britain with unrestricted
freedom, and even the ships themselves may be bought and sold
like any other description of merchandize. A common method of
computing their capacity, and their value would be a manifest and
indisputable advantage.

Let us now consider what are the recommendations of the metrical
ton, independently of its extensive adoption throughout the world. It
appears to surpass the English ton in regard to exactness, simplicity,
and facility of application. According to the English method, the
linear measures are computed in feet, inches, and eighths of an inch;
or, if recourse is had to decimals, in feet and hundredths of a foot. For
measuring length in vessels of all kinds, the use of a measuring
line divided into metres and centimetres appears simple, easy, and
commodious in the extreme.

But the chief advantage of the metrical ton will be apparent on
considering the linear measure as the basis employed for the cubage of
vessels, and the deduction of the tonnage therefrom. According to the
old English method, the length, breadth, and height, are in every case
multiplied into one another, being expressed either in feet and inches,
or in feet and 100ths of a foot, and the product being the estimated
capacity of the vessel in cubic feet, is divided by thirty-five, because a
ton of water is supposed to measure thirty-five cubic feet. Thus the
number of tons which the vessel can carry is obtained, not, however,
with exactness, because the ratio of thirty-five cubic feet to a ton of
water is only a rude approximation,

If the other method be adopted, it will only be necessary to multiply
into one another the length, breadth, and height expressed in metres
and centimetres, and the product will give the tonnage without any
further trouble and with perfect exactness, because a metrical ton is
the weight of a cubic metre of water.

This remarkable facility is obtained through the care taken, in
constructing the metrical system, to adjust the weights, so that they

124

might have a direct and simple relation to the measures. In all the
English methods this principle has been disregarded.

Let us now see how the application of the same principle will facilitate
the loading of vessels. First, with respect to the ballast and then to
the cargo.

Supposing water to be used as ballast, either wholly or in part, the
weight of water used as ballast and estimated in tons will be exactly
the same as the number of cubic metres which it will oceupy. If
gravel, stone, iron, lead, or any other material is employed, its specific
gravity being known, the space occupied by it will be inversely as its
specific gravity.

The cargo may be adjusted on the same principle. The specific

gravity of all kinds of merchandize may be ascertained with any degree
of exactness which is considered necessary, and the stowage may be
regulated accordingly ; for not only will the tonnage of the vessel,
after the ballast has been deducted, express the precise weight of
cargo, crew, and provisions which the ship will carry, but every portion
of the cargo may be placed higher or lower, fore or aft, so as to pro-
duce the greatest buoyancy and the most perfect equilibrium.

Before concluding these remarks, I wish to observe that the adoption
of the metrical ton, in the manner proposed, would naturally lead to
its adoption in weighing merchandize. And, not only would foreign
merchants adopt this system from its economy of time and labour, but
the lower metrical weights would also come gradually into common use.

Already these weights are making progress in Great Britain. More
especially the smallest weights, from the gramme to the millogramme,
are employed by all the rising chymists of the present day in Britain,
as well as in other countries. It appears, therefore, not unreasonable
to hope that the adoption of the metrical ton in shipping may be
another secure step towards the realization of the wish expressed in
the old distich,

Una fides, pondus, mensura, moneta sit una,
Et status illesus totius orbis erit.

The Chairman laid before the meeting a paper which had been
received from Thomas Joseph Hutchinson, Esq., her Majesty’s Consul
for the Bight of Biafra and the island of Fernando Po, Corresponding
Member of the Society, entitled— '

FACTS ABOUT FERNANDO PO,

Which he proceeded to read. Among the passages read were the
following :—

125

THE ARORIGINES OF FERNANDO Po.

The Boobees, who are the aborigines of the island of Fernando Po,
do not seem to have an affinity with any of the races of the continent.
I have heard that this name was given to them by Captain Kelly, when
he landed at North-west, or George’s Bay, in 1822, at the place now
termed in the charts Kelly’s Point. ‘A Boobee,” in their language,
signifies ‘‘a man.” The name Adeeyahs has also been conferred on
them in some missionary works which I have read, but whence this title
originated I am at a loss to find out. Lieutenant-Colonel Smith
has, in his “ Natural History of the Human Species,” given portrait
of a Fernando Po Chief who bore the English name of Cut-throat,
and of a Fernandian woman, neither of whom bears the slightest
resemblance in colour or form of feature to any I have ever seen in the
island. ‘These faces are more Caucasian in outline, more blanched,
and possess an expression of deeper suavity and of higher intelligence
than I have ever observed in any of the hundreds of countenances
that have been before me. He gives them from drawings of the late
Captain Iibmore, R.N., and says they are of the Guanche race.

An interesting description of this race, which constituted the original
inhabitants of Teneriffe, is published in the “ Memoire de la Societe
Ethnologique,” at Paris, 1841, in a paper by Sabin Bethelot, entitled,
“ Memoire sur les Guanches,” and in which he makes extracts from a
previous account contained in a very curious document from the Mag-
liabechi Library at Florence, published in 1827, by M. J. Ciampi.

I have heard the population of the island estimated at thirty
thousand; but judging from the towns I have visited, I cannot
conceive that this is correct, more especially as I am not aware of the
existence of any mode which can be depended on of obtaining a
correct census here, more than in another part of Africa.

The manners, customs, and superstitions of these people may be
similar, yet not more so than in the analogy which we find in all
uncivilized and unchristianized people. But the tall stature, the
tawny colour, the indubitable evidence of their being descendants of a
white race—whether Pheenicians or Carthaginians—from their hair
being long, and not crisp, as well as the rare beauty of their women,
can find no parallel in the Boobees of the present day at Fernando
Po.

The bodies of the Boobees in a natural condition are as black as
those of other negroes, the only essential difference observable in their
physique being that in many the hair falls down to the nape of the neck
in spiral curls. These are generally smeared over with a pomatum
made of a red dyeing herb, which they call “tola,” and which is mixed

R

126

with palm oil and ashes in its fabrication. The greater number of
them—the females especially—have transverse cicatrices on their faces,
from incisions made when they are young, and this gives them a very
disagreeable appearance. Their hair is dressed with the pomatum
mixed with red clay, which gives the curls the appearance of haying
lumps of red lead attached to the ends. Some of the higher classes
paint their faces with red, yellow, white, and brown dyes alternately in
patches under the eyes and on the cheeks. Many of the men have
long beards pendent from their chin; others have mustachios, but
whiskers are seen on very few. Their dress—of those who do dress—
consists of a hat, often only a mere plate, but sometimes approaching
the conical, which is fastened to the head by a skewer passed through
the hair from one side to the other. Often a bunch of parrot’s red
feathers i is stuck in the hat, which is frequently covered by a monkey’s
skin. Their girdles, of five or six inches in width, are worn on their
legs and arms, and made from small pieces of the whilk shell strung
teeter. Circlets of this whilk shell, the size of half-a-crown, are
passed over the forehead, a monkey skin hanging down in front of the
body, and that is all. ‘The ladies sometimes have an enormous weight of
beads round their necks. Their arms of warfare are only a spear with
many indentations in it, that would give a very disagreeable wound.
Its blade is from six to eight inches long, generally quadrilateral, and
the handle is from six to eight feet. But their intestine wars—the
only broils they can indulge in—are very rare ; and when they do occur,
neither age nor sex is spared.

Of the Boobee language, Mr. Clarke, a Baptist missionary, who has
compiled a vocabulary, declares there are five different species in the
island, and a great number of dialects. This I am not enough of a
linguist to decide; but such parts of the spoken tongue as I have
heard, seem to me very peculiar. ‘‘ Oipudo Abiaso?” is their “ How
do you do, Sir?” and the reply is, “‘ Potto Abiaso,” meaning ‘“ Thank
you, Sir,” leaving you to understand that “ very well” is intended to
be prefixed to the response.

Their currency is represented by small plates made of the whilk
shell, to the size of a silver three-halfpenny bit. Some of them are
smaller, and others as large as half-a-crown. Twelve strings of the
former, about a finger’s length each, are valued at sixpence, and 100
strings may be purchased for a dollar; so that this halfpenny currency
is their only one in the domestic markets. These they entitle ‘‘Ishibbu;”
the largest specimens are called ‘‘ Ishoko,” and are generally worn in
a circle round the foreheads of great men. A smaller size is also worn
in girdles round the arms and legs. The mint for the manufacture of

127

this coin is at a place called Ballilapa, near Melville Bay, at the south
end of the island.

Since they have begun to manufacture palm oil, which is sold in
blighs or wicker pots, containing from one to ten gallons, and which
they call “ Bectapas,” they exchange this commodity for British
manufactured goods. Save the manufacture of about three hundred
tons of palm oil in the year, on an island which could produce double
that number of thousand, and the growth of a few millions of yams,
their country, though teeming with the indigenous productions of
nature to its very summit, is as unproductive as the Sahara. I believe
them to be the laziest and idlest race in creation. No offer of any
premium will make them clear the ground or cultivate it; and were
their yams or plantains to grow spontaneously, I think they would be
content with sheds of huts in the branches, and bite the fruit off the
trees without the trouble of plucking or cooking it.

ANGLO-AFRICANISMS.

Although feeling conscious that from the time when the first vessel

of thirty tons burden, which sailed from Liverpool for Africa in 1709,
down to the year 1855, when the customs shew an export of ninety-nine
vessels in the same direction, of the aggregate tonnage of 43,346 tons,
a'very interesting history might be written on the subject, I prefer
trying to show how that big lisping child takes England for its model
Before any other nation with which it has communicated—in language,
as well as in’ commercial pursuits—and that therefore there is a great
duty incumbent on us to assist it in its struggles to attain the position
of manhood.
‘Let philologists rail against me as they will for being deficient in a
taste for modern classics, I must say that I cannot see the utility of
those grammar compilations of African languages whereof our mission-
ary presses have lately been so prolific. What use, for instance, can
Koelles “ Polyglotta Africana” be applied to, save to lie on the shelf as
a philological curiosity? For the labour of head and hand employed
in its compilation, the author certainly deserves more than the high
honour lately paid to him by the Academies of Paris. But its practical
utility I still feel urged to question; and all the languages of the
native tribes that I have seen printed appear to me so deficient in
their grammatical structure, as well as in words to convey ideas of
English art, law, industry, honour, morality, or religion, that it seems
only “‘making confusion worse confounded” any attempt to Anglicise
the African races by translating our language into theirs.

One of the most remarkable peculiarities of the native Africans, as T
have stated elsewhere, is their faculty of imitation. The words “saby”

128

and ‘“ palaver”—one derived from the French verb “ savoir” (to know),
the other from the Spanish “ palabra” (a word or speech)—are generally
used amongst all the negro races; and these two comprise all the
engraftings into their mongrel dialects from those languages. The
latter word is used frequently with English descriptive prefixes.
For example, the term ‘‘sweet-mouf palaver,” is equivalent to what is
understood in Ireland by “ blarney,” in Cockneydom by ‘‘ soft sawder.”
“Fool palaver ” expresses what we should call “nonsense,” and “ God
palaver” is the term applied to missionary teaching.

But a few examples of the peculiar idiomatic forms which owe their
origin entirely to derivation from the English tongue, will show at once
the pathway in which their most extensive imitative faculty lies.

_ ‘The word “lib” with some, and “live” with others, is used to express
the presence of inanimate as well as animate things.

“Your hat not lib (or live) dere sir,” “‘ your tick (stick) no lib (or live)
dere sir,” are responses frequently given by a negro mercury if sent in
quest of either of these articles.

The custom-duty which is paid to kings and chiefs for liberty to
trade in their country is expressed by the word ‘“ comey "—the nearest
approach they can make to custom.

A preseut which it is essential to give to an African potentate to
make friends with him, is expressed by the word “dash ”—which is
a very free and easy form of nomenclature, as it signifies that the gift
is to be dashed (literally speaking) at the recepient without any
stinginess.

‘“‘ Changey-for-changey”” is a very musical form of describing one
thing changed for another, and refers to loves and hates as well as to
palm oil and British goods.

The term ‘jam-head” does not mean that skulls should be jammed
one against the other, as the goat and ram races often do in playfulness,
but that the deliberate faculties of the thinking powers of brain shall
be exercised by two or more persons in mutual cogitation and decision.

Whenever an African talks of another person having a grudge against
him, he describes it by saying, “‘ Some bad ting lib for him tummack ;”
thus making the stomach be the organ in which the agency of spite
and malice are nurtured.

«One day no be all day,” is a very significant way of expressing a
hope that better days are coming.

The term “bob” has a meaning in some degree resembling that
borne by palaver, and seems to me to be an abbreviation of the English
slang word “‘bobbery.” There are “trade bob” and “lub (or love)
bob,” ‘hate bob” and ‘respect bob.”

129

At first acquaintance with the African people, the errors which they
commit in sexual nomenclature appear very absurd,—as of a man
pointing out to me a strapping daughter of his, and saying, ‘‘ Dat be
my son;” of another—as one of our interpreters did when up the
Niger—handing me a calabash to drink out of, observing, “ Dis be
bullock’s milk for thrue ;” of the same man introducing a chief's sister
by remarking, ‘“‘ When him brudder no live, him be biggest man for
town ;” and of a native trader giving an order to a British supercargo,
in one of the palm-oil rivers, to bring him out “a man and woman
goose, with a cock and hen jackass.”

ELEVENTH ORDINARY MERTING.
Held at the Royat Institution, on the 23rd March, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., PrestpEnt, in the Chair.

A quarto copy of Prince Albert’s “Speeches and Addresses” was
subscribed for.

Several interesting extracts from the Koran, prepared by the high
priests, or Mallams, and intended to be sewn up in leathern bags and
worn round the neck as charms by the African Mahommedans, were
exhibited by Dr. Thomson.

The paper for the evening was then read, entitled—

RESULTS OF AN ENQUIRY INTO THE ACTION OF
LIVERPOOL WATER UPON LEAD.

By J. B. NEVINS, M.D. anv J. B. EDWARDS, Ph.D., F.C.S.,

Of which the following is an abstract :—

The authors gave a general sketch of the researches and views of
chemists upon the action of hard and soft waters, especially upon lead
cisterns and piping, from which it appeared that the generally received
opinion is, that while soft waters act rapidly upon the metal, hard
waters very soon cease to act upon it by forming a protecting crust or
coating upon the surface.

This subject, being of the utmost public importance, has received
special attention from scientific men; and several chemists have
endeavoured to generalize results, and to ascribe the solution of

130

lead to an uniform cause. Free carbonic acid, atmospheric air in
solution, organic matter, earthy chlorides, saline nitrate, alkaline carbo-
nates, and, more lately, lower oxides of nitrogen resulting from the
oxidation of ammonia, have been, by different authors, considered
as the special solents of lead under the varied circumstances in which
that metal is found to be corroded. A recent government report,
by Professors Graham, Miller, and Hofmann, contains the following
conclusions, arrived at by these able investigators :—

1st. That the protecting coat of sulphates is not uniformly reliable.

2nd. That the presence of certain chlorides and nitrates increases
the power of solution.

8rd. That bicarbonate of lime is the most effectual protective.

Tn the experience of the authors numerous instances have occurred
in which hard water had attacked and dissolved lead, and exhibited
upon analysis serious contaminations of that metal. In some cases the
solution of the lead might be ascribed to extreme softness, in others to
the presence of chlorides of magnesium and calcium, and Dr. Nevins
has shewn, on a previous occasion, that a large proportion of sulphate
of lime was favourable to the solution of the lead, although a small
proportion of that salt protected it.

The properties of the water obtained from the wells round Liverpool
have been frequently ascertained by several able chemists, and the
uniform result has been that these waters have been found to possess
no solvent property upon lead.

The experience of practical plumbers, however, has been to the effect
that leaden cisterns containing rain water appear never to suffer loss or
decay, while those in which hard water is stored are corroded with
greater or less rapidity, become eaten into holes, and leak, notwith-
standing the production of an adherent and regular crust upon the
surface. The action of hard water, therefore, appears to be continuous,
and instances were quoted in which the bottoms of thick leaden cisterns
were corroded through in periods of two months, six months, eighteen
months, and two years respectively, by the action of the supply from the
well water of Liverpool.

It would thus at first sight appear that the plumber is at issue with
the chemist upon this question.

It appears to be established, however, by confirmed observation, that
the well waters of Liverpool, with rare exceptions, whilst they attack
and corrode the cisterns, do not hold the lead in chemical solution, and
no evil has therefore arisen from the use of lead for storing this water.
A careful examination of the old cistern lead and the deposit, throws
some light upon the cause of corrosion.

131

This deposit, which adheres firmly to the lead, doesnot fall uniformly
over the surface of the metal, but in spots or lines over the bottom and
along the edges of the solder within the cistern, and upon analysis
proves to be carbonate as well as sulphate of lead, and also contains
oxide of tin. It is, therefore, obviously the result of a galvanic action
between the lead and the solder, which goes on to the complete cor-
rosion of the lead, and is sustained with greater energy in proportion
as the water is harder, or contains more chloride. Many interesting
pieces of lead from old cisterns were exhibited, illustrating the nature
of this action.

In reference to the Rivington water, the authors had instituted a
large series of experiments, upwards of sixty in number, and extending
over a period of six weeks, with a view of fully investigating its action
upon lead. The water was taken by themselves from the reservoirs of
‘Anglezark, Rivington, and Prescot, and from the wells at Green-lane.
In every case the Rivington water acted distinctly, and in some
cases, largely on the lead. Im no case was any dissolved by the
well water from Green-lane.

A general analysis of the water taken from the head of the Riving-
ton reservoir, gave Dr. Edwards the following result :—

Gr. Imp.
Gallon.
Carbonate of Lime and Magnesia..............000cceeeee 1-01
Reals eapepe tara otee e/yalctateharsis osereiersverai ets: crgue;suctd oie ie. 8 maarsieg Sidluie aie 0-20
Oxide of Iron (trace).
SHAS OPAC Wels Gas) <celdotaltecnee vthols, lake eich lobclche ets: sre-evs 2°30
MOTE COL: SOULE. . warsscls stele s vee cit aisle eGdie/oisie c claie «a8 be «3 1:90
MO Re AICP NEATLOLS porte eiiac «ais eatin a's. « ganeaee eee centtoa seis cs 2-06
Free Carbonic Acid, 13 cubic inch.
TAT

It would appear, as the result of these experiments, that the quantity
of sulphate and carbonate of lime is too small to afford the necessary
amount of protection. Comparative experiments were made with
seraped lead, dull cistern lead, old cistern lead, new and old pipe lead,
&e. ‘Two new cisterns were also prepared, each holding about a
gallon, from which at various periods samples of the water were drawn
off and analysed. In twenty-four hours the presence of lead was
apparent, and increasingly so up to thirty-three days, when the whole
was evaporated, the lead precipitated, and found to amount to about
three grains of lead per imperial gallon. The cistern being again
charged, and left eleven days, yielded, upon evaporation, nearly two
grains of metallic lead for each imperial gallon.

The cistern was again filled, and examined at the end of seven

132

weeks ; not more than a quarter of a grain of lead was then obtained,
and the conclusion is drawn that after a very considerable period the
solution of the lead would probably cease.

Further experiments also proved that a mixture of Rivington water
with Green Lane, in the proportion of two of the former to one of the
later, acted decidedly upon the lead. When mixed in equal proportion
a slight but perceptible effect was produced ; but in the proportion of
two parts of well water to one of Rivington, no action took place.

It appeared important practically to ascertain what action the water
would have upon the incrustation already formed by the well water
upon the interior of cisterns in the town. Experiments on the subject
show that while the tendency of the water is to disintegrate and detach
the coating, it does not dissolve lead therefrom even after a period of
long contact; the coatirg already existing upon old cisterns will
therefore still prove some protection.

It did not appear that any lead was dissolved by the mere passage of
water through leaden pipes, and it was observed that no injury to the
public was likely to arise from the use of this water, provided that
leaden cisterns be well coated with good paint or a suitable cement.*

TWELFTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Held at the Royat Insrirurton, on the 20th April, 1857,
Dr. IHNE, Vicz-Presipent, in the Chair.

The following gentleman was elected an Ordinary Member :-—
N. 8. GrazEBROOK.

Dr. Tuomson exhibited an admirable miniature painting of the late
President, Joseph B. Yates, Esq., F.S.A., being a coloured photograph,
by Mr. Foard. Its faithfulness, delicacy, and artistic beauty were
much admired. <A photograph, by Mr. Keith, of the chaste and well-
cut tablet by Mr. J. P. Macbride, crected to his memory in the ancient
chapel, Toxteth Park, was also shown by the Rev. Mr. Roszxrps,
who described the manner in which the artist had so successfully
introduced chromatic colouring into the marble sculpture.

*A more detailed account of these and other experiments has been published ip a
separate form, and may be obtained from the authors, or through the secretary.

133

Mr. Byertey exhibited a specimen of the nudibranch Doto Coronata,
found on the dock wall between Seacombe and Birkenhead.

Dr. THomson showed a new bark, from the Clarence river, which
contained a powerful alkaloid, the nature of which had not been
ascertained, from the smallness of the specimen received. It was
suggested that it resembled strychnia rather than quinine, but nothing
positive could be stated.

The first paper of the evening was then read—

ON COLOUR PATTERNS IN NATURAL PRODUCTIONS.
By tHe REV. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., Vick-Presipentv.

The patterns formed by colour in animals or vegetables possess an
interest which is in some respects peculiar. This interest is dis-
tinguished and heightened by our inabilty to assign the proximate
reasons which have determined the pattern in any particular instance.

In peculiarities of form or structure, we are usually able to trace
what are termed adaptations to certain ends. For example, in
ornithology, the bills of various birds are described as long or short,
blunt or pointed, hard or soft, and so forth; and in correspondence .
with these variations, we find one bird procuring its food under stones,
another from the seeds of the pine tree, another from the marsh, or in
the air whilst on the wing.

We say the bill is adapted to the habits and requirements of the
bird ; and the observation of facts of this nature constitutes one of
the chief sources of delight in the pursuit of natural history.

I do not at all question that this is a right source of gratification,
though to look somewhat deeper, these adaptations seem to me to
involve a mystery, and to take for granted far more than we really
know respecting the creative idea.

If, for instance, the snipe’s bill be an adaptation, then in the order of
the creative idea, though not necessarily of the creative act, there was
a sequence. A bird was to be made to feed in a marsh, and a suitable
bill was provided. But what was the idea of the bird before the bill
was thought out? The feet and wings are adaptations too. What
was the idea of the bird before any of these adaptations were added?
But if the creative idea comprised at once the bird and its habits, then,
strictly speaking, no part taken by itself is an adaptation.

It may be said that the admirers of adaptations in nature mean no
more than that they perceive and admire a certain fitness and propriety
in the construction of certain organs when regarded in connexion with
their uses. And this is perfectly just so long as the whole production

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134

is recognized as the result of one creative idea. Any departure from
such a recognition tends to notions which are essentially anthropo-
morphic and utilitarian.

In the enquiry before us, we have no such danger to guard against.
The particular pattern which is formed by shades of colour, is, with
few exceptions, so manifestly unimportant to the economy of the
creature, that we feel no disposition to account for it in any other way
than by referring at once to the idea of the Creator.

There are, however, some exceptions, which must be noticed. The
colour of certain birds is so similar to that of the localities where they
are found, that we can hardly doubt this circumstance is important to
their welfare as enabling them more readily to conceal themselves from
their enemies. The same may be said of many kinds of fish. The
change of colour on the approach of winter observable in some birds
and animals is supposed to answer purposes similarly useful ; and there
are probably many other exceptions.

Setting these aside, the phenomena of colour in plants and animals
refer us at once to the will of the Creator. We see these things so
because He would have them so ; and there is no intervention of any
probable use that might have modified or suggested the creative
thought.

The colour of a spot upon the wing of a bird or a butterfly seems to
be a matter of perfect indifference, and so perhaps it may be in respect
of the more palpable requirements of the creature; but the distinction
is only apparent, and not real. It is highly probable that the colours
of animals are determined by laws just as fixed and unalterable as
those which regulate the construction of their most necessary organs.
We may, indeed, find it much more difficult to arrive at the principles
on which the colour pattern has been elaborated ; but, at all events, we
may apply ourselves to the task, encouraged by the firm persuasion
that nature is never capricious.

One of the most essential points to be observed in any work of art
produced by the use of colours is the preservation of harmony of tone.
It is needless to prove this, for almost any clever picture, ancient or
modern, is an exemplification. We have only to fancy an azure patch
from one of the early Flemish painters introduced into a composition
of Salvator Rosa, or a sunset from Turner, in the same frame with a
Canaletti, and we perceive at once the fatal incongruity.

But these are extreme cases, whereas the rule is most exact. Let
any artist, however skilful, attempt to restore a gap in one of Claude’s
landscapes, it will be fortunate, indeed, if he does not produce a blot
fatal to the beauty of the picture. And why? Because of the extreme

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difficulty of copying the tone of the original. The drawing may be
equally good, the colour imperceptibly different, but the same mellow
sunlight shines not in the picture and in the patch; the atmosphere
differs in the two; the tone is not preserved.

I bring forward this to show how sensitive we are to the very nicest
distinctions in tone.

Now, in landscape scenery, provision is made for the perfect
preservation of tone by the distance of the source from whence the
light proceeds, so that although the tone may be entirely changed many
times in a single day, as at sunrise, noon, sunset, or in a storm or
shower, still the tone of the whole scene, at any instant, is perfectly
harmonious.

Portions of trophical or polar scenes would be discordant if they
could be introduced into a landscape in a temperate region. Yet they
are at unity with themselves. I remember, on one occasion, observing
the colour of the eastern part of the Red Sea, it was a palpable ultra-
marine, yet such was the hue of the mountains of Arabia on the
opposite shore, that the intense blue of the sea was in perfect keeping.
Could that blue be transferred to the water in one of our Westmoreland
lakes, the result would be monstrous.

Thus far we are following in a beaten track, but I am not aware
that the accurate preservation of tone in the colours of all natural
objects has been so frequently the subject of remark. Yet, if we take
any production of nature that is complete in itself, we shall, I think,
find its colours so adjusted as to be perfectly harmonious.

In birds, from the gaudy parrot to the wren, we shall not meet with
an instance in which the colours are otherwise assorted. We find
an almost infinite variety of combinations of tints, and unless some
very definite principles had been observed in their disposition, we
should have had numberless examples of ill-matched colours, and want ot
unity in tone. A very slight alteration would be sufficient to produce
a manifest incongruity.

Take, for example, the common house sparrow, with his plumage of
brown, black, and grey: let the grey be changed to the grey or dun
that prevails in the pigeon tribe; the combination would be disagree-
able, and the tone of the whole destroyed. The plumage of birds
affords few examples of combinations of tints more exquisitely balanced
than the mottled browns and buffs on the back of a snipe or a wood-
cock. In the latter bird many of the adjacent feathers are nearly of
a cedar pencil colour. The jay has feathers of a very similar hue, but
let some of these feathers from a jay be placed on the back of the
snipe or the woodcock, the combination is false and disagreeable.

136

The wings of lepidopterous insects afford an admirable field whereon
to test the truth of our proposition. The colouring is of every possible
variety—bold and vigorous or delicate and subdued, strongly contrasted
or exquisitely shaded; yet the preservation of tone is never violated.
Our common English butterflies are fine examples. What can be con:
ceived more perfect than the painting of the common peacock butterfly,
Vanessa Io, or that of the admiral, Vanessa Atalanta? Yetif we
should introduce a portion of the scarlet from the admiral into the rich
maroon grounding of the peacock, how unseemly would be the result !

We are familiar with the brimstone butterfly. Now in this insect
we haye a combination of two colours generally considered to be inhar-
monious, yellow and orange. An orange patch on a yellow ground is a
false combination. How, then, is the tone preserved? The orange is
reduced in size to a small sharply-defined dot, and in this form it gives
a life to the broad yellow wing, without in the least interfering with
the tone. But in another closely allied insect found on the Continent,
the orange occupies a large space in the centre of the yellow. Here is
a fresh difficulty ; and how is it met? The orange is no more a sharply
defined patch, but is beautifully shaded off until it imperceptibly
merges into the yellow, like a similar combination in the petals of the
Hscoltzia.

The colours of shells are hardly to be considered fair examples,
because they are not complete natural productions without the animals,
and many of the marine mollusca are brightly tinted in a way that
must be taken into account when we regard the tone of the whole
object.

Yet shells are most harmoniously coloured. Mitra episcopalis is
perhaps the coarsest and least beautiful of any, yet the tone, though
not pre-eminently beautiful, is well preserved.

We might prolong these illustrations to almost any extent, but,
before we leave this part of the subject, it may be well to enquire what
is the exact meaning we attach to the word tone.

The term is incapable of exact definition. Tone in a combination of
cdlours may be recognized and admired, but can never be described,
any more than the grace or beauty of a curved line. We have no
equation that can express the conditions of beauty in a curved line,
yet nothing can be more exact than these conditions. The slightest
deflection is fatal.

So in music, Harmony is supposed to be subject to laws that can
be written, though this is every day becoming more doubtful; but
melody obeys no such restrictions. Yet is not melody a thing as true
as the existence of the sun in the heavens ?

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The tints of colours are infinitely more varied than the recognized
intervals in the musical scale. How, then. can we expect to find rules
that shall snflice to secure that which in combinations of colours is
analogous to a beautiful melody or an impressive harmony in music ?

Such rules, if we could find them, would constitute a perfect
definition of tone in colour patterns.

We have had occasion to remark that certain colours are not found
to harmonize with each other, when placed together ; decorative artists
therefore avoid such combinations on ordinary occasions; but when the
utmost possible intensity of effect is aimed at—as, for example, in a
picture lately exhibited in Liverpool, of “ Queen Titania and her
Train,” where the colouring was intended to dazzle the eye with its
gorgeous splendour—here these rejected combinations are the very
means employed to produce the required effect, and dashes of rose
colour are thrown on pink, and streaks of geranium on the rose ;
greens, blues, and yellows are charged one upon another, and the
result, when skilfully managed, is certainly very brilliant.

Nature has anticipated the artist even in this. If we examine any
of our British birds, we shall find no single instance of a colour placed
upon another with which it does not harmonize ; the tone is uniformly
moderate, and the contrasts of colour, where they exist, are simply
beautiful and pleasing. But we turn to some of the fairy-like birds of
Brazil, and what do we behold? The most surprising combinations—
orange charged on crimson, blues surmounted by greens, and these
again by still more vivid greens; ordinary rules are set utterly at
‘defiance, yet no chance-medley work is here; all this anomalous
painting is but the daring of a hand too skilful to require to work by
rule, and the result is splendour surpassing all description.

Our minds are almost irresistibly led from this to an analogous
effect in music. Discord following discord “in the lowest depths to
find a deeper still,” creates a thrill that no measured resolutions can
produce, but it requires the mind of a Mendelssohn to direct where
these consecutive discords shall come, and what they shall be.

Have we then, after all, arrived at no more than this—that nature
has provided that the colour patterns in all her productions shall be
agreeable ta the eye, and produce in us perceptions of beauty? We
have, I think, done much more than this. We have seen how easily
a contrary effect might have been produced. We have seen that colour
patterns, without the most exact and skilful disposition, could no more
produce what we see.in nature, than an animal running over the keys
of a piano could produce a melody. The hand must be there, and the
skill to guide the hand. We have in nature thousands of colour

138

melodies, where a false tint would be like a false note in music; and
just as a musical melody indicates a skilled composer, so does each one
of these colour patterns show, as much by what is avoided as by what
is seen, the hand of the all-venerated and infinite artist.

It follows necessarily from the laws of optics, that when we look on
any scene in nature, masses of colour are preseuted to the eye only in
the centre and foreground of the prospect, the distance causing all
objects approaching the circumference of our view to appear lighter,
paler, and smaller. The artist, aware of this, in painting a group of
flowers, places the brightest and heaviest in the centre, and surrounds
them with such as are more delicate, or with a spray of foliage.
Nature does the same. ‘The full-blown rose is in the centre, the
buds stand around it. More conspicuously in the wings of lepidop-
terous insects, masses of colour are thrown towards the centre,
surrounded by spots or patches, whilst the edge is Vandyked, scalloped,
or looped, and beautifully finished off with a ciliary fringe.

A peculiar configuration of colour, admitting of considerable variety
in the details, but disposed after the same type, is frequently a dis-
tinctive mark of affinity amongst natural productions. This is too
well known to require much illustration. There are, of course,
numerous exceptions, but as a rule, for the most part it holds good,
that animals, birds, insects, and shells, of the same genus, wherever
found, are respectively distinguished by the same style of painting.
Now here the interest manifestly depends upon the value we attach to
specific distinctions. If we believe in species, and define a species to
be all the individuals descended, or that may have descended, from a
single pair, then to us the typical colouring of allied species must be
most deeply interesting, for it serves no economic purposes. That the
very peculiar painting of the European quail, for instance, is a
repitition of the same design that is seen in the quail of Australia, is, so
far as we can see, unimportant to the bird. Distinct creative acts have
produced the two species, why then so alike and yet so different? Is
it too bold to say that the Creator, by this arrangement, encourages and
helps our study of his works? Such study would be almost impossible
without recognition of natural orders or groups, and these are nothing
more than assemblages of species that we regard as related, because
they have many characters in common.

We now approach the most difficult portion of the subject. In the
the colour patterns of natural productions, we may perhaps think we
pretty clearly discern indications of a few general principles, in
accordance with which, certain combinations of colours have been
adopted in preference to others; but when we attempt to deal with

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any of the infinitely varied configurations in which colours are
disposed, and to ask the design or meaning of a particular pattern,
we can hardly do more than conjecture what may be the answer to our
enquiry.

It is evident that if we are to make any progress in deciphering the
meaning of colour patterns, we must commence with such as are most
simple, and pursue our investigation by means of comparison. What,
then, is the most elementary form under which we can recognize
pattern? Probably that in which one colour is laid upon another in
simple spots. It is not easy to conceive any way in which colours can
be combined so as to form a pattern less complicated than this, which,
as it is the simplest, so it is also the most common pattern in natural
productions.

Next to this in order of simplicity may be the pattern which is
formed by straight lines or bars running parallel to each other, a type
in nature only less common than the preceding.

We have now two patterns between which we may institute a com-
parison,—spots, and bars or bands. Can we find any characters
belonging to natural productions which are spotted, which do not
belong to such as are barred or banded? Could we collect all the
examples on each side, and find such a distinguishing character, we
should have a fair inductive warrant for regarding such a character as
likely to have something to do with the difference between spots and
bands.

Some process of this kind is our only chance, and it has been my
endeavour to make many such comparisons. I feel that an apology is
needed for bringing before a Philosophical Society anything so crude
as a conclusion must be which has been formed without powers and
Opportunities of investigation far greater than my own ; but the field
is so new that even a guess at truth may be allowable.

Suppose, then, that bars of colour on any surface suggest the idea
of strength, a supposition not utterly gratuitous—for bars or bands
somewhat resemble ribs, which are great sustainers—and there
is a continuity in the band that gives the idea of resistance to
disruption.

Suppose, then, the bar or band to indicate strength, under what
circumstances should we expect nature to adopt the banded pattern in
decorating her works? Certainly not where the form and substance of
the production already sufficiently indicated strength. We should not
expect to find an elephant ora rhinosceros striped, for their forms suffi-
ciently indicate the quality that we now suppose the banded pattern to
suggest. Rather, we should expect to find it on more slender and

140

fragile forms. Their appearance would be assisted and improved by a
pattern on their surface conveying an idea of the quality in which they
are deficient.

To enable us to pursue our comparison, we will suppose the spotted
pattern to suggest the idea of lightness and flexibility; we should
expect to find it more frequently on productions having the opposite
qualities.

If our suppositions be correct, the pattern of the zebra should impart
to the animal an appearance of strength beyond that which the mere
outline of the animal, without the pattern, would indicate. Similarly,
the spotted pattern of the fallow-deer should give an impression of
lightness and agility. The tiger should appear a stronger, and the
panther a more agile, animal than if their patterns were inter-
changed.

Do we, however, find that nature more frequently adorns her weaker
and more fragile productions with a banded pattern, and such as are
robust and stout, with spots? I fear the answer to this question can
hardly be given in a very decided manner. Purely banded or purely
spotted patterns are not so common as those of a mixed character.
And whilst we regard the qualities of strength and lightness as likely
to be represented in the colour patterns of natural productions, these
are only two out of very many qualities equally likely to have their
symbols in nature’s adornments ; and thus may be produced complica-
tions of patterns materially affecting the possibility of obtaining a
direct answer to our enquiry in the present.state of our acquaintance
with the subject.

The question, then, before us is, do we in nature find spotted patterns,
where the idea of lightness is required, and banded patterns where an
impression of strength is desired ?

It is manifest that in birds any pattern conveying the idea of great
weight and solidity would be inappropriate. Our ideas of beauty in a
bird are connected with its buoyancy and adaptation to cleave its passage
swiftly through the air. Birds are accordingly seldom barred or banded,
but are almost invariably more or less spotted; a pattern imparting to
them the appearance of that quality which we esteem most excellent in
a bird. The bars or bands which are not found in the body of the bird
do appear frequently on the wings, and still more frequently on the tail.
These portions are so manifestly thin and light, that they might be
deficient in the appearance of strength, which is accordingly imparted
by the banded pattern.

The colour patterns on shelis are on the whole favourable to the
correctness of our supposition. The genera, distinguished for lightness,

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141

are the helices and their allies, 2,500 species, mostly banded, very few
spotted ; dolium, twenty-five species, some of them very conspicuously
banded.

The cowries, on the other hand, are remarkable for solidity and
strength; comparatively few of them are banded. I cannot, however,
omit to mention a somewhat remarkable change of pattern in the cowry.
When the animal is young, and the shell is thin and fragile, the pattern
upon the shell is distinctly barred or banded; but when the same
animal becomes mature, and the shell is heavy and strong, the banded
pattern is obliterated, and the shell is spotted; a change for which
there is no apparent physiological cause, but which is common to many
of the species.

Simple bands or spots, although amongst the most common colour
patterns, are by no means the most remarkable. The ocellate spot, so
frequently found on the wings of lepidopterous insects and on the
plumage of birds, is singularly interesting on account of the position of
the pupil or brightest portion of the spot, which is not in the centre of
the surrounding annulus, the whole spot being eccentrically shaded in
the exact manner in which an artist would represent a hemisphere
lying on a table before him. Is the ocellate spot indeed a specimen of
nature’s perspective drawing, adorning her exquisitely tinted ground-
work with the image of a jewelled stud in high retief?

I have endeavoured to show, with respect to the colours, natural
productions complete in themselves.

Ist. There is invariably a careful preservation of tone.

2nd. The tints are disposed so as to harmonize with each other.

3rd. That where an intense effect is desired, combinations of
colour are employed, which, under ordinary circumstances, would be
disagreeable.

Ath. That varied patterns formed after the same type distinguish
species which belong to the same natural order or group.

5th. That it may be possible to decypher colour patterns. *

6th. That certain indications seem to suggest the possible meaning
of simple bands, spots, and the ocellate spot.

We see much of nature’s painting, but are seldom permitted to
examine her pencil. ‘Lhe colours of birds and animals are formed so
gradually that the process by which they are elaborated quite evades
our notice. In shells we are acquainted with the organ which in
certain species paints the pattern. In the cowry, two soft pliant lobes,
called the mantle, spread themselves from the aperture to the back of
the shell, the dorsal line, so common in this species, indicating where
the two lobes meet. It is most wondrous indeed that so soft and

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142

clastic a.substance as the mantle of the cowry molluse should be able
to lay a pattern on the shell as sharp and defined as a well-executed
lithograph. The process is probably very short, and when completed
to the satisfaction of the animal, the same mantle which deposited the
pattern glazes the whole with a coating of silicious varnish or enamel.

I have a specimen of Cyprea mappa which illustrates this process.
Just at the juncture when the animal was full grown, and was in the
act of painting his house, some hungry crustacean seized the artist
between the powerful nippers of his claws, wounding, and no doubt
piercing through the mantle, and even leaving the marks of his pincers
on the shell, The cowry, however, was too hard a nut to be cracked
by the crustacean, who relinquished his hold, and the artist went on
painting his house. His poor lacerated mantle, however, could no
longer execute the neat sharp pattern with which it was decorating the
dwelling, but in the -place of it deposited, under the wound, a large
brown blotch. Probably not long after, certainly before the coating of
enamel was laid on, the unfortunate cowry fell into the clutches of an
enemy more to be dreaded than even the crustacean—a conchologist,
a shell-collecting seaman, by whom the specimen was brought to
Liverpool.

When we consider the multitude of colour patterns found in natnral
productions, animal and vegetable—how varied and distinct they are,
how they delight us in the specimens we arrange in our cabinets, form
the brightest ornaments of our gardens, and minister to our pleasure in
every walk, surely it must awaken surprise that so little has been even
attempted in the way of investigating their meaning, or the principles
upon which they have been selected and wrought. Shall it be
sufficient to say we are content to admire these adornments of nature
without prying into her secrets? As well might we be satisfied with
the excuse of an idler who visits a gallery of art, and tells us he is
content to look at the pretty pictures, and neither knows or cares for
anything in them beyond their capability of affording him pleasure.
He an admirer! Why what does he feel of delight, in comparison
with that of the student who stands before some chief work of art,
struck with an influence much akin to that of awe, not perhaps at the
subject of the picture, but at the greatness of the master who could
print it? What does the idler know of the mind that has been thrown
upon the canvass—of the soul that has been breathed into a feature—
of the years of high intellectual communing with nature that find
expression in a shadow or a gleam ?

True it is that the Creator has so profusely decked his works with
loveliness, and has so wondrously imparted to us the perception of

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beauty, that no mind, however uncultivated, is altogether without
delight in natural productions ; and the village child mingles, to her
infinite admiration, her blue-bells in a wreath with cowslips, unprompted
by any lessons on the principles of colour harmonies.

But surely it is unworthy of man to make the prodigality of nature a
plea for inactivity of body or of mind.

We fear not that the geologist views a mountain with a less impression
of its grandeur because he is a geologist. Let us be sure that nature
smiles most on those who know her best.

The second Paper was then read,—

ON VEGETABLE ORGANISMS FOUND IN COAL.
By EC) ARCHER, Bsa, Vee:

To the naturalist there is a wide field for investigation in the structure
of coal, and, let those despise it who will, a philosopher may find a larger
amount of intellectual occupation in investigating the contents of a
coal-box, than can be conceived by those who neglect the common
things by which they are surrounded, and seek gratification only in the
accumulation of the rarer objects of natural history.

My attention was called to the structure of our common coal by Mr.
Robert Daw, comptroller of H.M. Customs, at this port, whose informa-
tion on this subject is perhaps more complete than that of any other
investigator. I need only refer to the eulogy passed upon this
gentleman by Professor Balfour, in his paper upon coal, printed in the
Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, vol. 21, part 1, in
confirmation of this opinion,

During the past year Mr. Daw called my attention to the same
organized bodies which Professor Balfour suggested might be sporangia
of “some plant allied to lycopodium, perhaps sigillaria,” and I felt much
interest in examining the various specimens which he showed me. But
what chiefly interested me was some coal which exhibited peculiar
traces of organized tissues in a charred state,—in fact, resembling
the charred surface of recently burned timber; whilst the general
appearance of coal scarcely conveys the idea of combustion of any
kind.*

From this I am led to conclude that although in some cases a
process of eremacausis may have converted the vegetable matter into
coal, and in others the carbonization may have resulted from heat

* Having occasion often to pass through the brickfields near Upper Parliament-street,
last summer, these appearances were frequently observed in the coal used there for
burning.—Epriror.

144

generated by intense pressure, yet in some cases there has been some-
thing approaching the state of active combustion; probably in
accidental cavities of the mass into which sufficient air has penetrated
to support temporary combustion.

Amongst the specimens on the table, which have been kindly lent me
by Mr. Daw, are some so strongly resembling portions of wood, or parts
of plants, converted into charcoal by burning, that I will venture to
say, that, without a knowledge of the fact that they are true specimens
of coal, they would be looked upon as the results of a recent conflagra-
tion. There are other pieces which indicate a state of things different
from any with which we are acquainted in the ordinary processes
of combustion. Thus we have peculiarly lustrous layers of coal imposed
upon almost slaty layers,—the lustrous portion, from some cause or
other, breaking up into almost perfect squares. I exhibit these speci-
mens in the hope that some suggestions may be offered in explanation
of this curious result; but I must confess that, so far, I have been
unable to form any satisfactory opinion upon this question. .

That most of the coal is produced by that peculiarly slow process
called eremacausis, I feel convinced from the curious facts which many
of the specimens most clearly exhibit.

Thus we find in masses of coal, which are apparently in no particular
respect different from the ordinary kinds, whole layers of small, some-
what lenticular bodies, which are indubitably the vessels which have
contained the reproductive bodies of what was once a living plant,
probably, as Dr. Balfour suggests, the sporangia of sigillarias. How
does it arise that these beautifully organized sporangia which appear to
be unaltered in colour, and apparently only slightly flattened in form
by compression, are imbedded in a mass of matter which appears to
have been subjected to the most intense heat, a heat in most cases
sufficient to destroy every trace of organization? Does it not compel
us to assume that the process of carbonization was materially different
from any similar operation with which we are acquainted, unless it be
that less active chymical action which the learned Liebig so effectively
styled eremacausis, and that these sporangia possessed means of
resisting this chymical action, which the rest of the material did not ?

I assume such was the case, and am much inclined to attribute their
preservation to the presence of some material which had a resinous
character, because we find very often associated with the coal in which
the sporangia exist, thin lamina of a peculiar bituminous mineral called
middletonite, which spreads like a brown varnish over the pieces of coal.

The sporangia themselves, when cut open, often present an
appearance of this mineral in their contents. It is impossible to say

145

what was their exact form, because they are variously altered by the
pressure to which they have been subjected, but probably they have been
nearly spherical and attached by a sort of umbilicus, the point of attach-
ment of which is easily seen on some of them. It is impossible to
believe that these bodies have been preserved under the same
conditions as those which have given to the other specimens all the
appearance of ordinary combustion, because the active heat necessary
to produce such an appearance upon common vegetable tissue would
equally act upon the sporangia, and destroy all traces of vegetable
structure.

Anthracite coal evidences another mode of carbonization than those
which I have hinted at, perhaps differing in degree only from the
process by which ordinary coal is formed ; but its structure and history
is a most desirable subject for enquiry, of a more searching and philo-
sophical character than has yet been bestowed upon it.

I have only further to call attention to a singular impression in a
piece of what appears to be Torbane-hill coal. It is a most remarkable
object. Itis a slight depressed form, which at first sight suggests an
animal or vegetable scale, broad-pointed like a lancet at one end, and
irregular and fibrous-looking at its base, as if it had been violently
detached from some surface. It seems made up of cuncentric ridges,
equi-distant from each other, and from the edge, these being connected
by close transverse striz or ridges. At first I thought it might be the
bud of some plant, but, after long and careful examination, I have been
unable to come to any satisfactory opinion upon this question; but I
have laid it before the the Society in the hope of receiving the
suggestions of others.

THIRTEENTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Roya. Instrrurion, on the 4th May, 1857,

THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., Presmpent, in the Chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
Joun D. CrEaton,
Rey. Cuarres H. Burron, M.A.
The Presipent read a letter from Samuel H. Thompson, Esq, of
Thingwall-hall, communicating a valuable donation of books from the

146

executors and family of the late Joseph B. Yates, Esq., and the
Secretary was requested to return the special thanks of the Society.

The Secretary submitted the following communications from the
Council, both of which were unanimously adopted by the Society:
First,—That application be made to the Committee of the Royal
Institution for a bookcase in which to deposit the donation of the
executors and family of Mr. J. B. Yates and the other books belonging
to the Society ; with a suggestion that the whole be open for reference
to the Members of the Royal Institution, as well as to the Society.
Second,—That two excursions be made during the summer by members
and their friends, and that the officers of the Society be requested to
form a committee for carrying out the arrangements.

Mr. Nisper exhibited an autograph letter, written by Lord Nelson,
to his daughter, a few days before the battle of Trafalgar. It had been
twenty-five years in possession of the lady who gave it to the present
owner, Mr. Nelson. Much interest was excited by this letter, which

was in the following terms :—
Victory, October 19, 1805.

My Dearest Ancer,—I was made happy by the pleasure of receiving your
letter of September 19th, and I rejoice to hear that you are so very good a girl,
and love my dear Lady Hamilton, who most dearly loves you. Give her a kiss
forme. The combined fleets of the enemy are now reported to be coming out of
Cadiz, and therefore I answer your letter, my dearest Horatia, to mark to you
that you are ever uppermost in my thoughts. I shall be sure of your prayers
for my safety, conquest, and speedy return to dear Merton and our dearest good
Lady Hamilton. Be a good girl. Mind what Miss Connor says to you. Receive,

my dearest Horatia, the affectionate parental blessing of your father,
NELSON AND BRONTE.

Dr. THomson exhibited an Lolis papillosa which he had been
necessitated to expel from his aquarium in consequence of its preda-
tory habits ; nevertheless, it bore captivity well, and was an interesting
animal. He explained how it did battle with its prey, and, in
illustration of its appetite, mentioned that it had, during a week,
devoured nearly one-haif of three actinee. His remarks upon the
habits of some of the creatures of the aquarium drew forth some
_ interesting and useful information from Dr. Edwards, who has been
long a close observer.

The paper for the evening was then read by Dr. Cart Rerstac,

ON THE POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE PHILOSO-
PHERS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

The author drew a very unfavourable picture, particularly referring

to the dreamy and abstract nature of the religion of the times, and the
evil character of its reactionary effect upon the public mind.

147

FOURTEENTH ORDINARY MEETING,
Held at the Royat Institution, on the 18th May, 1857,
THOMAS INMAN, Esq., M.D., PresipEnz, in the Chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
Francts Heywoop, Esq.
Jamies W. WHITEHEAD.

Dr. THomson exhibited the raw material and rug made from the skins
of the Aviru, a South American animal, the property of Mr. Danson.
He referred to the importance of this wool, and its cheapness in the
imported form.

Mr. Byrrtey exhibited a specimen of the Mya arenaria, and also the
shell of a common cockle, which was interesting as an instance of
animal sagacity in self-defence. The shell had been bored by a
baccinum, and the cockle, on feeling itself attacked, or annoyed by the
sand which entered at the hole, had retired to the middle of the shell
and thrown out a sort of diaphragm, which formed a complete barrier
between it and the outer aperture, the intermediate space being filled
with sand.

The paper for the evening was then read.

AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE VOLCANOES OF ITALY.
By THOMAS INMAN, Esa., M.D., PresrpEent.

Aided by diagrams, he entered with considerable minuteness, and in
his usual lucid and interesting manuer, into the history and topography
of his subject, concluding. with the following observations as to the
causes of volcanic action :—

We find that there are two theories, the physical and the chemical;
both of them extremely ingenious, but evidently not equally tenable.
The one supposes the eruption to be literally a breaking through the
outer crust of the earth of that central fire which is supposed to be
constantly burning; but in addition to the many objections that have
been urged to this hypothesis, there seem two or three prima facie
considerations against it of great weight. It is, in the first place,
difficult to understand how, when a vent has been established, having
an area of some four, five, or six hundred miles, that that vent
should ever become entirely closed, and a number of small ones
replace it with an aggregate area of only ten or twenty. We have,
for example, seen in Italy the vast size of her extinct craters, and,

148

lest we should be supposed to be carried away by crude notions,
we have tried to consult authorities respecting the size of extinet
or active volcanoes elsewhere. Singularly enough, we do not find
so much notice taken of the size of craters as the heights of the
volcano ; but we gather that the old crater—now Barren Island—in the
Bay of Bengal, had an area of sixteen square miles, or thereabouts;
that Santorin, in the Grecian Archipelago, had an area of about 200
miles ; that Papandayang, in Java, had an area of the same dimensions ;
that, at present, Pichincha, in Peru, has an area of five miles;
Vesuvius, only about a quarter of a square mile; and Kilhaurea and
Mauna Roa, an area of about six miles. Monte Somma was more
than eight times the size of its present representative; and it is
equally clear that the ancient Posilippo crater was nearly a hundred
times larger in area than Monte Nuovo, Avernus, Solfatara, and others
that succeeded it.

Auother objection seems to us of great weight. If we are to
consider the craters as vents, it is extraordinary that they do not
continually run. The hypothesis of a central liquid mass must
and does necessarily, assume that the crust is not only cold, but
that it is perpetually growing cooler by radiation. We cannot
conceive that the process of cooling can go on without contraction ;
and, if so, there would always be a considerable pressure exerted
upon the central fluid, which could not cool in the same proportion
as the outside. If, then, a vent were once to be established, there
would be quite sufficient power to keep it constantly open, and we
should have the wondrous spectacle of a perpetual incandescent stony
fountain, whose streams would gradually overlay the outer world. Such
an hypothesis, too, is wholly incompetent to explain the explosions,
detonations, earthquakes, and other phenomena which precede or
accompany volcanic action, nor does it attempt to account for the reason
why ashes, scoriz, &ce., are so much more abundant in every eruption
than lava.

Another point of interest is this: A volcano, such as Mauna Roa,
which has been recently in eruption, and Skaptar Jokul, in Iceland, in
action 1783, did, in the course of a comparatively short period, emit
three streams of lava, forty, fifty, and sixty miles long, with a breadth
of from seven to fifteen miles, and a depth of from one to six hundred
feet and more. The molten mass filled up valleys of no mean magni-
tude, and chasms of awful grandeur. The area covered by the lava
from these volcanoes exceeds that of the Isle of Man, and the whole
mass may be roughly estimated at 1,600 cubic miles.

The abstraction_ of such a mass from the earth’s centre, we are

149

inclined to think, must have been attended with a corresponding
depression of the earth’s general surface, or of the part immediately in
connection with the vent. But so far from finding depression the rule,
we find that elevation of land precedes, accompanies, and succeeds
volcanic action; and that, when depression does take place, it takes
place slowly, and at a considerable distance of time.

The phenomena suggests to us the idea, not of a fountain, but of the
overboiling of some pot containing a dense material, when air separating
the particles, gives the appearance of a vast increase in size and
quantity.

That the comparison between the lava stream and an overboiling pot
is not simply a flight of fancy may readily be seen by any one who
considers the phenomena presented by both.

Let us fill a large pot, or a long tube, with rosin, or some other
dense material capable of undergoing gaseous decomposition by heat;
we will apply our heat suddenly ; the result will be that a layer of the
material is first melted, the upper portion of which imparts its heat to
the cool part above, while the lower is converted into gaseous vapour,
and thus being increased immensely and suddenly in size, drives up the
whole mass and makes its escape. Here we have in petto the pheno-
menon of the earthquake which precedes for a long time the eruption.
The same process continues until the whole mass is heated thoroughly,
and in a state of ebullition. _Gaseous products still continue to be
formed, and explode when they reach the surface ; others, retained by
the cloggy matter, are diffused through the whole, making it porous as
bread,—a phenomenon repeated on a large scale by the rise of the coast
of Misenum, prior to the eruption of Monte Nuova.. As the heat
continues or increases, ebullition goes on more furiously ; the material
is decomposed into its gaseous elements with greater intensity; they
detonate more loudly as they are nearer the surface ; the mass, swelled
to greater dimensions by the increasing size of the bubbles enclosed
within, and by the diminished pressure to which they are subjected, at
length boils over, and continues to do so as long as there is material in
the pot and heat in the fire. When we examine the rosin that has
boiled over we find it equally porous with lava and pumice; and thus
it is we see that the real is not equal to the apparent increase of bulk.
By and by the fluid cools ; the heated gases diminish in volume; the
whole material contracts, and the substance remaining in the pot is
seen diminished in size. This is nothing more than analogous to the
depression of soil which takes place after the eruption of a volcano has
passed, and the heated matter has had time to cool, which it does
slowly.

150

‘The chymical hypothesis having received this much negative evidence
in its favour, let us examine into the positive evidences that support it.

In so doing we must necessarily be brief, as it would be impossible
in a short paper to treat the subject with the detail a strict proof
demands. ;

First, all the phenomena we have noticed, i.e. the expulsion of
boiling water, of steam, of mud, of carbonic, muriatic, and sulphuric
acids, the presence of electric sparks, all tend to show that volcanic
eruptions are attended by occurrences on a large scale similar to those
that take place in the laboratory during chymical decompositions on a
small scale.

Second, that the detonations which are incompatible with the idea of
a flow through a vent of some central fluid fire are quite compatible
with the hypothesis that they arise from the explosion of gases.
Hydrogen and oxygen coming together and being ignited, will, by their
explosive power, produce an earthquake shock; and, by their united
product being water, there will be a reaction, and return to the original
condition. In this we can see an explanation of the back-stroke of the
earthquake wave.

The development of carburetted hydrogen would have a similar
result. The presence of water would increase the bulk of the material;
but as the mass gets hotter, the water, which in the first instance
probably began the chymical change, would be converted into steam,
and its pressure gradually increasing would at last burst the boiler
with a terrific explosion. As the steam gets free vent the explosion
would cease, just as we find that it does.

Again, we find evidence of the action being near the surface, and of
its being greatly increased by rain. We find, from the accumulated
observations of the past, that a drying up of the wells, i. e., a large
absorption of water in the lower strata, is a common precursor of
volcanic eruptions. We find that most active volcanoes are situated
near large accumulations of water. We find that they all abound
in sulphur and other elementary substances, which we know will
unite together in the laboratory with the extrication of light, heat, and
inflammable and explosive gas. We know that those unions are
favoured by moisture. We know that the thermal springs in the
voleanic districts contain commonly some of the combinations of
sulphur.

We have seen phenomena elsewhere of a similar nature to those we
are seeking to explain. Thus, for example, on the west coast of
Ireland, we read of a cliff having fallen which contained a large quan-
tity of sulphuret of iron. This exposed a new surface to the waves ;

151

chymical action was set up; the rock shortly became red-hot, and as
the waters of the Atlantic dashed against it, abundance of steam was
generated, which produced a sound not unlike that of the explosion
of cannons, or distant thunder.

The self-ignition of coals containing pyrites, and the rapid heating of
sulphur and iron, when both are in powder and in contact with each
other and moist, have long been known.

There being, then, all the ingredients present in volcanic regions
necessary for chymical action, what is there to object against the
theory? Nothing but the persistent nature of the operations in some
parts, and its intermitting nature in others. To answer this, we can
ouly point to many vast volcanoes, to show that the fires have burnt out
entirely, and that there is reason to believe that others will do so too.

One other objection may be started, viz. that the evidence of the
telescope shows us that there are volcanoes of huge size in the moon ;
and as everything tends to prove that no water does or can exist in our
satellite, it is reasonable to conclude that water has not the influence
in producing volcanic action which we have given it credit for.

This argument-is one of considerable force, but is easily met by
the assertion that there are not, and there is no proof that there ever
were, volcanoes in the moon, and that what have been considered as hugh
craters and burning mountains have no analogy with real ones on the
earth. They have much more the character assumed by bubbles which
have burst at the surface of a boiling mass, and have been instantly
cooled. But as this has nothing to do with the subject of our paper,
we must not continue the speculation.

The chymical theory of the volcanic action certainly appears, at the
present time, to explain the phenomena better than any other ; and it
is not without wonder that we contemplate the fact that such vast fires
as have existed, and still smoulder extensively, have been kindled by
the operation of water. The American who, when standing on the
mountain, watching the eruption of liquid lava from Vesuvius, re-
marked that they had in their country a waterfall that would put out
the fire in five minutes, evidently had no notion that those very fires
had been produced by some internal cataract, deluging a bed of pyrites,
or similar formation.

The wonders of creation are infinite, and not the least of them is
the power that kindles the earth into a flame by the same element
which man employs to destroy it when produced.

An animated discussion followed, in which the views of the President
were strongly opposed by holders of the other theory.

DONATIONS,
From June, 1856, to JunzE, 1857.

1856, Oct. 20.—From the Society—Notices of the Royal Astronomical

Society, Vol. 16, No. 8, and Drawing of Saturn.

: From the Institution.—Notices of the Royal Institution
of Great Britain, 1855—56, Part 6.

R From the Society.— Proceedings of the Linnean Society,
1856, Vol. 1, Part 2.

3 From the Society Proceedings of the Royal Society
of Edinburgh, 1855—56.

4 From the Society Journal of Geological Society of
Dublin, Vol. 7, Parts 1 and 2.

x From the Society—Report of the Proceedings of the
Geological and Polytechnic Society. Yorkshire,
1855.

+ From the Society—Report of the Leeds Philosophical
and Literary Society, 1855—56.

3 From the Society —Twenty-third Report of the Royal
Cornwall Polytechnic Society, 1855.

; From the Society. Transactions of the Historic Society
of Lancashire and Cheshire, Vol. 8, 1855—56.

is From the Society—Report, &c., of the Chemists’
Association, 1855—56.

v From the Society—Transactions of the Polytechnic
Society, Liverpool, 1853—56.

4 From the Society—Proceedings of the Philomathic
Society, Liverpool. Vol. 1.

October 29.—From the Author—Liverpool, as it was during the

Last Quarter of the Eighteenth Century, 1775
to 1800. By Richard Brooke, Esq., F.S.A.

ey From the Borough Engineer——Report to the Health
Committee, 1856.

. From the Society Notices of the Royal Astronomical
Society, Vol. 16, No. 9.

153

1856, Oct. 29.—From the Society.—Proceedings of the Linnean Society,
Vol. 1. Part 3.
Noy. 17.—From the Author.—Disorders of the Stomach. By
James Turnbull, M.D.
Dec. 1.—From the Society—Journal of the Geological Society
~ of Dublin, Vol. 7, Part 8.
re From the Society—Memoirs of the Literary and
Philosophical Society of Manchester, No. 1,
Vol. 18.
- From the Society.—Proceedings of the Belfast Natural
History and Philosophical Society, 1855—56.
» 15.—From the Committee——Fourth Annual Report of the
Manchester Free Library.
5 From the Committee——EHighth Annual Report, and
Eighth Report of Executive Committee of the
Salford Royal Museum and Free Library.
sf From the Society—dJournal of the Dublin Natural
History Society.
3 From the Society.—Notices of the Royal Astronomical
Society, Vol. 17, No. 1.
1857, Jan. 12.—From the same.—Ib. No. 2.
ree From Dr. Hume.—-Reports of the Royal Society of
Northern Antiquarians at Copenhagen.
», 26.—From the Author—Table Talk of Olden Times. By
James Boardman, Esq.
Beb. 9.—From the Society.—Notices of the Royal Astronomical
Society, Vol. 17, Part 8.
x From the Society.—Journal of the Dublin Geological
Society, Vols. J (first part wanting), 2,3, 4, and 5.
» 23.—From the Society—Proceedings of the Zoological
Society, Nos. 810 to 318 inclusive.
April 20.—From the Society.—Notices of the Royal Astronomical
Society, February and March, 1857, Vol. 17,
Parts 4 and 5.
* From the Author.—Statistical Details respecting the
Republic of Lubeck. By the Rev. R. Everest.
A From the Society.—Various Meteorological Papers
issued by the British Meteorological Society,
7 From the Society—Journal of the Linnean Society,
Vol. J, Part 4.
3 From the Society.— Transactions of the Liverpool
Architectural and Archeological Society.

154

1857, May 4.—From 8. H. Thompson, E'sq.—(The Yates’ Donation) :—
Archeologia, 4to, 36 vols.
Publications of the Camden Society, 38 Vols.
‘ » Chetham Society, 34 Vols.

5 », Historic Society ofScience, 2 V.
Reports of the British Association, 23 Vols.,
1831—54.

Journal of the Geographical Society, Vols. 1 to 12,
and part of Vols. 13, 14, and 15.

Proceedings of the Philological Society, 1842—53.
Proceedings of this Society, Vols. 1 to 9.
Transactions of the Historic Society, 1851—54.
Classical Museum, Nos. 5 to 22, and No. 26.
Colonial Magazine, 76 Nos.

, 18.—From the Society.—Notices of the Royal Astronomical
Society, Vol. 17, No. 6.

a From the Publishers.—Liverpool pani Maga-
zine, Nos. 1 to 3.

155

LIST OF LIFE MEMBERS.

The dates refer to the time of Election as Ordinary Members.

1835. March 6. Boult, Swinton,
1836. Oct. 31. Higginson, Alfred,
1837. April 3. Fletcher, Edward,
1839. Jan. 14. Lassell, William,
1840. April 6. Dickinson, Joseph,
1842. Mar. 7. Heath, Edward,
1844. Feb. 19. Turnbull, James,
1844, Oct. 21. Inman, Thomas,
1846. Dec. 14. Faram, John,

1847. Nov, 29. Nisbet, William,
1848. May _1. Byerley, Isaac,
1848. Noy. 27. Edwards, John B.
1850. April 29. Ihne, William,
1851. Nov. 17. Redish, Jos. C.
1852. April 4. Jones, Morris C.
1852. Dec. 13. Ferguson, Wm.
1853. Nov. 28. Archer, Thomas C.
1854. Feb. 6. Gee, Robert,

1854. Nov. 18. Hunter, John,
1855. Jan. 8. Brockholes, James F.
1855. Feb. 19. Taylor, John 8.
1855. March 19. Foard, James T.
1855. Oct. 5. North, Alfred,

1855. Nov. 12. Brooke, Richard,
1856. Jan. 7. Rawlins, Chas., E., Jun.
1856. Jan. 21. Hardman, Lawrence,

PROCEEDINGS

OF THE

LITERARY & PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY

OF

LIVERPOOL,

DURING THE

FORTY SEVENTH SESSION, 1857-58.

No. XII.

LIVERPOOL:

PRINTED FOR THE MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY,
BY HENRY GREENWOOD, 32, CASTLE STREET.

1858,

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List oF MEMBERS—Ordimary ......scceserececseececsresseesesuce

Corresponding ........+.seeeeereseeneeeeeees

PC DPAUS CHSC) ENB HUT Sata Ys vst Saabs feta hele sown cinelae lok slowinsls patois «ae

ANNUAL MEETING—Report ....ceseecceceececeeceeseeececenceeees

New Council Elected ................0000.

SOUND VIS RULIN Ga ctes.acauiaieisneisgtl st slaer lass ien'eien sien sisisale ale ose elas ccels

Mr. Brooke—‘‘ Warwick and Salisbury”’......--.....+

Pedieree 50. .csas anus chaousase raises sass

Mr. Archer—* Natural History Excursions”..........
ExtraorDINARY Meerines (Reporting Business).........+++ 46,

BRETT VCH ELEN Ge ewe se sctie aelaniow tseete esis wale siana siecle 5s mei cress

PIHEORIDETMmIVIOHV RETIN Ge aa pia staeistetsienieie's'nipielsiese/eie 5 sleisioisiajeiel® c.vilaieicie/s\slsiaieiafe.ls

Mr. Hamilton—*“ Composition of Rotatory Motion”...

“ Description of the Gyroscope”. ....

Mr. Hilliot’s Researches ........s.cccccsccrercee Raathesentos

SabLGISEHMIV TARITEEN Git setae ses ave) [aoe teciseeere tices vials seiselcclecisidswes ce aeiciae

Mr. Samuelson—* Smelting and Assaying Tin Ores”

PDE WUE TING: vecnee oi cocy<b dob Beeteth tdodsecseccsescn r'evsisins ce se

‘Mr, Bell—* Preservation of Meats in Metallic Cases”

Rey. H. H. Higgins—“ Botanizing Stations”.........

SSVUNDEL IVUMEMDNG ceceiee cite ccs cine bee net clelscccleletsisicle vsstetaieleiisysiac

Mr. Foard—* Moral Dignity of the Shaksperian

Drannigne renames ee naencenr nemtice cere ela oreinclsiaielalrin ois

RaPETTEL OVE IUN Gis ciciaicin,s a cts » eiblelaysieialeco(ta > cp cleisiclslelae: antes sauelsislaisetaietn

Dr. Ihne—“ International Arbitration” ..........065 +

DUNT MP BTING 05 yee verve cote csenenconcopenerpepinnscperesesage css

Mr. Bell—* Preserved Milks and Meats”............++

Mr. Clay—“‘ Puddled Steel”.......sseeesceseeesseneerees

57

Iv.

TON TT WRUNG esecnanaaeeencls set's ois oc ese cscs slice ashsies cosines 128
Dr. Retslag—* Influence of Christianity onthe Roman
Miatrimm OM ALA We. aic,s 01s cies 04/00 odie ee eninan oesinnans 123
ELEVENTH MEETING ..........-- Crrcacsevessessesemesmenseanee eiehee 142
Mr. Duckworth—* Fossils of Perim” .......0..eeeees sae
TweLrrH Meerine. ilebesis ater dgeecowavececSestheeseeeeloe
Dr. ous ee ee on ‘* J oe Cian” agelsets te Seer 158
Rey. H. H. Higgins—‘British Hymenomycetes” ... 159
an » ‘Local Fungi—Hymenomyecetes” 159
yy » ‘Death of the Bee by Parasitic
PINGS a osonas cae sveces sovesecensseqas.scassasonpeeauas 160
Mr. Morton—* On the Flora and Fauna of Geological
SIV SLSING, scicpawswveapeenvcsaiens Rabwace cle enincPannee scons Sedat}
(eTREBENTH MGR DING —ccccescecsccecwerce cosas So swisuiscvaatempante 176
Mr. Brockholes—* On Rearing apie: ae 176
FOURTEENTH: MBBTING .c.cemsveiecsecsccaccsec sas nse ves ma csed eae 194
Dr. Dickinson—“ On the Climate of Egypt and Nubia” 195
ne NE IVIGET TING wae ciseisisegiisos’saaaivesite sisiesinoexsce as eae naesene 226
Mr. Hutchinson—“ On Western Africa as a Cotton
Growing County siceiesrscecesdenones walsh aan ewan . Rae
Rev. H. H. Higgins—“ On the Liability of Shells to
Injury from the Growth of a Fungus”............ 227
ND) OMAINONS yess ste ce sels s/s s's/0 slave a/e opieleis aplleeiiensyeaeies sdipecsuiseume ocala 229
APPENDIX.
Rev. H. H. Higgins—I, British Hymenomycetes. 1
3 5 IT, Local Fungi—Part 1.... 55
ERRATA.

Page 11, 9th line from foot—for £210 1s. 53d., read £200 15s. 54d.
» 49, 4th line—for Borlaria, read Borlasia.
5, 106, at foot—insert Editor.
» 157, 3rd line—for zeptorynchus, read leptorynchus.
; 176, 7th line from bottom—/or Brocholes, read Brockholes.

SESSION XLVII., 1857-58.

COUNCIL:
THomAS InMAN, M.D., President.

Rey. H. H. Hieeins, M.A., Vice-President.
PROFESSOR ARCHER, Vice-President.

W. Inne, Pu.D., Vice-President.

Isaac BYERLEY, F.L.S., F.R.C.S.E., Treasurer.
Davip Purpie THomson, M.D., Hon. Secretary.
J. B. Epwarps, Pu.D., F.C.S.

RicHARD Brooks, F.S.A.

J. C. RepDIsH.

A. Hiceinson, M.R.C.S.E.

J. GRAINGER, B.A.

EDWARD FLETCHER.

ROBERT CLAY.

Rey. J. RoBBERDs, B.A.

W. J. LAMPoORT.

ORDINARY MEMBERS.

Life Members marked with an asterisk.

Oct. 11, 1833 Aikin, James, Esq., 2, Drury-lane, and Gambier-terrace.

Noy. 17, 1851 Anderson, Robert Worrall, 23, Falkner-square.

Dec. 11, 1854 Andrew, John, 28, Brunswick-street, and Sandon-park:,
Wavertree.

*Nov. 28, 1853 Archer, Thomas Croxen, Professor of Botany, Queen’s
College ; St. Catherine-street, Higher Tranmere.

Jan. 22,1855 Atkin, George, 58, Cable-street, and Rock Park, Rock
Ferry.

Feb. 22, 1858 Avison, Thomas, 18, Cook-street, and Fulwood Park,
Aigburth.

Vi.

May 1, 1854 Bahr, George W., 4, Cable-street, and 5, South-hill
Grove, Aigburth.

Feb. 7, 1834 Baines, Thomas, Parliament-street, Westminster, London.

Noy. 17, 1851 Bean, William, H.M. Customs, Revenue-buildings, and
56, Berkeley-street.

March 9, 1857 Bell, Christopher, Moor-street, 30, Goree, and 64,
Bridge-street, Birkenhead.

Feb. 6, 1854 Bennett, William, Sir Thomas’s Buildings, and 109, -

Shaw-street.
Feb. 4, 1856 Bird, William Valentine, M.D.Aberd., 2, Beaufort-
terrace, Seacombe.
Dec. 11, 1848 Bishop, Rev. Francis, High Park-street.
Feb. 8, 1847 Bloxam, Frederick William, Alliance Bank, London.
Nov. 7, 1834 Boult, Francis, Jun., 2, Rumford-place, and Devonshire-
road, Claughton.
Jan. 11, 1858 Botterill, Charles, 3, Cable-street, and Seaforth.
*March 6, 1835 Boult, Swinton, 3, Bedford-street South, and 1, Dale-street.
Nov. 13, 1854 Bretherton, Edward, F.G.S., 53, North John-street, and
47, Hamilton-square, Birkenhead.
Nov. 29, 1852 Brewer, John, Barrister-at-Law, Zondon.
Nov. 17, 1856 Brighouse, John Martin, 22, Everton-road.
Oct. 21, 1844 Bright, Samuel, Esq., 1, North John-street, and Sandheys,
Mill-lane, West Derby.
Noy. 17, 1856 Broadbent, William Henry, M.D.Edin., M.R.C.S.E.,
31, Rodney-street.
*Jan. 8, 1855 Brockholes, James Fitzherbert, 16, Eyerton-terrace,
Cleveland-street, Birkenhead.
*Nov. 12, 1855 Brooke,, Richard, F.S.A., 16, Canning-street.
May 5, 1851 Brougham, James Rigg, Barrister-at-Law, Reg. Court
of Bankr., 20, South John-street, and 10, Dingle-view,
Dingle-lane.
May 4, 1857 Burton, Rev. Charles Henry, M.A.
*May 1, 1848 Byerley, Isaac, F.L.S., F.R.C.S.E., Myrtle Cottage,
Victoria-road, Seacombe.

Feb. 7, 1848 Casey, George, 52, Naylor-street, and Elmfield, Mere-
lane, Walton.

Dec. 1, 1851 Clare, John Leigh, 11, Exchange-buildings, and
Richmond-terrace, Breck-road.

Oct. 21, 1844 Clay, Robert, 52, Saint Anne-street.

a

Jan.

Vil.

26, 1857 Clay, William, 97, Sefton-street, and 4, Parkhill-road.

May 4, 1857 Cleaton, John D., M.B.C.S.E., County Lunatic Asylum,

Nov

Wakefield.
. 16, 1857 Cooper, Joseph, Oak House, Aigburth.

May 31, 1858 Collingwood, Cuthbert, M.A.Oxon., M.B., F.L.S.,

Jan.
Jan.
Feb.

Oct.

Lect. on Botany, Liv. Roy. Inf. Sclr. of Med.,
31, Rodney-street.
22, 1850 Cox, Henry, 15, Exchange-alley N., & Poplar-rd., Oxton.
12, 1857 Cranbrook, Rev. James, Liscard.
4, 1856 Cunningham, John, F.G.S., 5, Cook-street.

21, 1844 Dale, Robert Norris, Hxchange-street E., and Childwall
Abbey.

*April 6, 1840 Dickinson, Joseph, M.A., M.D.Dub. and Cantab., F.R.S.,

Nov.

M.R.LA., F.L.S., F.B.S.E., Phys. to Liverpool
Royal Infirmary, 92, Bedford-street S.

27, 1848 Dove, Percy Matthew, F.S.8., 1, North John-street, and
49, Hamilton-square, Birkenheud.

. 23,1848 Drysdale, John James, M.D.Edin., L.R.C.S.E., 44,

Rodney-street.
4, 1856 Duckworth, Henry, F.G.S., 2, Gambier-terrace, Hope-st.
17, 1858 Duckworth, Dyce, 2, Gambier-terrace, Hope-street.
9, 1837 Duncan, William Henry, M.D.Edin., Medical Officer of
Health, 2, Cornwallis-street, and 17, Peel-terrace,
Upper Canning-street.

3, 1833 Eden, Thomas, M.R.C.S.E., 345, Park-road.

. 27, 1848 Edwards, John Baker, Ph.D.Gies., F.C.S., Lect. on

Chemistry, Liverp. Sch. of Med., 46, Nelson-street.
. 16, 1857 Elliot, James, Professor of Mathematics, Queen’s
College, 114, Falkner-street.

. 21, 1844 Ellison, King, F.R.C.S.E., 30, Rodney-street.
. 15, 1856 England, Rev. James, M.A., 56, Grove-street.
. 18, 1850 Evans, Henry Sugden, F.C.8 , 52, Hanover-street, and

Huskisson-street.

14, 1846 Faram, John, 8, Railway Cottages, Edge-hill.
13, 1852 Ferguson, William, F.L.S., F.G.8., Gresham House, Old
Broad-street, London, E..C.
. 29, 1852 Fischel, Rev. A., New York.

Vill.

April 16, 1849 Fisher, William M‘Naught, Ph.D., F.R.A.S., 36, Upper
Parliament-sireet.
*April 3, 1837 Fletcher, Edward, 4, India-buildings.
Feb. 6, 1854 Fletcher, Fred. Dicker, M.R.C.S.E., Lect. on Anat. and
Phys., Liverp. Sch. of Med., 15, Upper Duke-street.
*Mar. 19,1855 Foard, James Thomas, 34, Church-street.

*Feb. 6, 1854 Gee, Robert, M.H.Heidelb., M.R.C.S.E., 10, Oxford-st.
April 20, 1857 Glazebrook, Nicholas Smith, M.R.C.S.E., Hayman’s-
green, West Derby.
Dec. 12,1853 Godden, Joseph, M.R.C.S.E., Village-road, Oxton,
Cheshire.
Oct. 15, 1855 Goodwin, Joseph, 7, Wheatland-lane, Seacombe.
March 3, 1856 Grainger, John, B.A., 4, Chapel-street, and Palatine
Club, Bold-street.
Noy. 14, 1853 Greenwood, Henry, 32, Castle-street, and 12, Fairfield-
crescent, Fairfield.
Noy. 30, 1857 Grimmer, William Henry, 6, Castle-street.

Jan 22,1855 Hakes, James, M.R.C.S.E., Surg. North. Hospital, 12,
Maryland-street.
Noy. 30, 1857 Hall, Robert Henry, 18, King-street.
Dec. 16, 1850 Hamilton, George, F.R.A.S., F.C.S., Prof. of Chemistry,
Queen’s College, Walton-view, Egremont.
*Jan. 21,1856 Hardman, Lawrence, Sweeting-street, and Rock Park,
Rock Ferry.
Nov. 14, 1837 Hartley, John Bernard, Coburg-dock, and 10, Bedford-
street South.
*March 7, 1842 Heath, Edward, Esq., Orange-court, 37, Castle-street, and
St. Domingo Grove, 114, Breckfield-rd. N., Everton.
Dec. 12, 1855 Hess, Ralph, 15, South John-street, and Upper Duke-st.
Dec. 28, 1846 Higgins, Rev. H. H., M.A.Cantab., F.C.P.S., Rainhill.
*Oct. 31, 1836 Higginson, Alfred, M.R.C.S.E., Surg. South. Hospital,
44, Upper Parliament-street.
Jan. 12,1857 Holden, Erasmus, Widnes, Warrington.
Noy. 13, 1854 Holland, Charles, 17, Tower-buildings North, and Liscard
Vale, Egremont.
Mar. 22, 1847 Horner, Henry P., 10, Basnett-street, and 53, Everton-rd.
Nov. 4, 1850 Howson, Rev. John Saul, M.A. Trin. Coll. Cantab.
Principal of the Collegiate Institution, Shaw-street,
and 4, South Hill-street.

a

Dec. 27, 1841 Hume, Rev. Abraham, D.C.L.Dub., ad ecund. Cant
Oxon., LL.D.Glasg.. F.S.A., M.P.S., 24, Clarence-
street, Everton.

*Nov. 13, 1854 Hunter, John., Memb. Hist. Soc, of Pennsylvania.

Jan. 31, 1851 Hutchinson, Richard, M.R.C.S.E., 77, Upper Parlia-
ment-street,

Jan. 26, 1857 Hutton, David, 3, St. George’s-creseent, and 81, Everton-
road.

*April 29, 1850 Ihne, William, Ph.D.Bonn, 11, Carlton-terrace, and 316,
Upper Parliament-street.
Feb. 23, 1857 Imlach, Henry, M.D.Edin., 3, Bedford-street N.
*Oct. 21, 1844 Inman, Thomas, M.D.Lond., F.B.S.E., Lect. on Prin-
ciples and Practice of Medicine, Liverp. Sch. of
Med., Phys. to Northern Hospital, 29, Rodney-street.
Feb. 8, 1858 Jones, Jabez, 27, James-sireet
Jan. 23, 1854 Jones, John, 28, Chapel-street.
Oct. 20, 1856 Jones, Rev. John Herbert, M.A., 115, Church-st., Everton.
*April 4, 1852 Jones, Morris Charles, 3, Harrington-street, and 75,
Shaw-street.
May 5, 1851 Jones, Roger Lyon, 14, H. Queen’s Dock, and 1, Great
George-square.

Feb. 19, 1855 King, Alfred, 14, Newington, and 9, Netherfield-road S.
Feb. 8, 1858 Keith, William, Lord-street, and Castle-street.

Jan. 10,1848 Lamport, William James, 21, Water-street, and 5,
Beech-terrace, Beech-street, Fairjield.
*Jan. 14, 1839 Lassell, William. F.R.SS.L. and E., F.R.A.S., 27, AZilton-
street, and Broadstones, Sand field-park, West Derby.
Oct. 21, 1844 Lear, John, 1, North John-street, and 22, Holland-terrace,
Duke-street, Edge-hill.
Feb. 23, 1857 Lewis, James, 6, Water-street.
Feb. 6, 1854 Lidderdale, William.
Feb. 22, 1858 Little, Robert, 3, Vernon-street.
Nov. 17, 1856 Livingston, Ronald, 78, Lord-sireet, and Myrtle Bank,
Holly-road, Fairfield.

Oct. 20, 1856 M‘Andrew, James Johnston, 5, North John-street, and
Greenfield Cottage, Bromborough.

X.

Oct. 21, 1844 M‘Andrew, Robert, F.R.S., F.L.8., Alihallows-chambers,
Lombard-street, London.

March 9, 1857 McFie, Robert Andrew, 8, Bachelor-street, and Ashfield
Hall, Nesion.

Dec. 11, 1854 M‘Ilveen, Professor, Alexander, Principal Liverpool
Institute, Queen’s College, and 9, Sandon-terrace.

Dec. 29, 1855 Mackinlay, Daniel, 31, St. James-street, and 77, Corn-

wallis-street.

Dec. 15, 1856 Malleson, Rev. F. A., Enjield, Palm-grove, Claughton.

April 4, 1853 Marrat, Frederick Price, 22, Arcade, and 68, Great
Newton-street.

Dec. 11, 1848 Marshall, Buchanan, M.D.Glasgow, 29, Islington-terrace.

Jan. 21, 1839 Martin, Studley, Hxchange-chambers, and 113, Bedford-st.

Feb. 5, 1844 Mayer, Joseph, I’.S.A., F.R.As.8., F.E.S., &c.,68, Lord-st.

May 2, 1853 Milner, Rev. James Walker, M.A., 1, Downshire-terrace,
324, Upper Parliament-street.

Jan. 8, 1855 Morton, George Highfield, F.G.S., 9, London-road.

April 16, 1849 Moss, Rev. John James, B.A., Upton, Cheshire.

Oct. 29, 1850 Mott, Albert Julius, South Castle-street, and Orchard-hey,
Rice-lane, Walton.

April 3, 1854 Mott, Charles Grey, Birkenhead, and Tranmere.

Nov. 7, 1834 Neill, Hugh, L.R C.8.E., F.R.A.S., 6, Abercromby-square,
Jan. 26, 1857 Neoroji, Dadabhai, London.
Oct. 20, 1856 Nevins, John Birbeck, M.D.Lond., M.R.C.S.E., Lect. on
Materia Medica, Liv. Sch. of Med., 25, Oxford-street.
Dec. 15, 1851 Newlands, James, Borough Engineer, 2, Cornwallis-
street, and 2, Clare-terrace, Duke-st. North, Edge-hill.
*Nov. 29, 1847 Nisbet, William, L.Fac.P.S.G., 18, Church-st., Egremont.
*Oct. 15, 1855 North, Alfred.

Nov. 16, 1857 Pacheco, Don Manuel, 52, Hanover-street.

Dec. 28, 1846 Picton, James Allanson, F'.S.A., 20, Clayton-square, and
Sandy-knowe, Wavertree.

Feb. 6, 1854 Prange, F., 10, Dale-st., and 2, Grove-park, Lodge-lane.

Jan. 8, 1850 Ramsay, Rev. Arthur, M.A.Trin. Coll. Cantab., West
Derby.

Mar. 13, 1812 Rathbone, Richard, 20, Water-street, and Woodcote,
Aigburth-read.

Xi.

Mar. 13, 1812 Rathbone, William, Esq., 20, Water-street, and Grreen-
bank, Wavertree.
*Jan. 7, 1856 Rawlins, Charles Ed, Jun., 23, Yemple-street, and 1,
Windermere-terrace, Prince’s-parl:.
Nov. 17, 1851 Redish, Joseph Carter, 18, Chapel-street.
Feb. 6, 1854 Rees, William, 179, Upper Parliament-street.
‘Dec. 15, 1856 Retslag, Carl. Ph.D. Berlin, Professor of German
Literature, Queen’s College, 173, Grove-street.
Mar. 20, 1854 Rigge, Thomas, 64, Rodney-street.
Nov. 2, 1840 Robberds, Rev. John, B.A., 10, High Park-street,
Toateth-park.
April 18, 1853 Rowe, James, 2, Chapel-walks, and 51, Shaw-street.

April 28, 1856 Salusbury, Sir John S§. Piozzi, Brynbella, St. Asaph.

May 26, 1856 Samuelson, Newton, F.C.S., 3, Hackin's-hey, and 59,
Hope-street. :

March 9, 1857 Saunders, Walter, 25, Brook-street.

April 6, 1846 Scholfield, Henry Daniel, M.D.Oxon., M.R.C.S.E., 14,
Hamilton-square, Birkenhead.

Nov. 29, 1854 Slack, Henry Wright, M.R.C.S.E., 25, Islington-terrace.

Mar. 13, 1812 Smith, James Houlbrooke, Esq., 28, Rodney-street, and
Green-hill, Allerton.

Dec. 14, 1857 Steele, Robert Topham, 4, Water-st., and 7, Oxford-st.

*Feb. 19,1855. Taylor, John Stopford, M.D.Aberd., M.R.G.S., 1,
Springfield.
Jan. 23, 1843 Taylor, Robert Hibbert, M.D.Hdin., U.B.C.S., F.B.S.E.,
Lect. on Opthalmic Medicine, Liverpool School of
Medicine, Percy-street.
Dec. 11,1854 Thompson, Samuel Henry, Esq., Thingwall Hall,
Knotty Ash.
Dec. 10, 1849 Thomson, David Purdie, M.D.Edin., L.R.C.S.E., 11,
Nelson-street, Great George-square.
Nov. 17, 1856 Tinling, Charles, 60, Castle-street, and Clarence-street,
Everton.
Dec. 1, 1851 Towson, John Thos., Scient. Examiner of Masters and
Mates, Sailors’ Home, and 47, Upper Parliament-st.
*Feb. 19, 1844 Turnbull, James, M.D.Edin., Phys. Liverp. Roy. Infirm.,
19, Upper Duke-street. :
Noy, 16, 1857 Tymbas, Gregory, 14, Dale-street, and 6, Prospect-vale,
Fairfield.

Xil.

Oct. 21, 1844 Vose, James Richard White, M.D.Edin., Sen. Phys.
Liverp. Royal Infirmary, 5, Gambier-terrace.

Oct. 21, 1844 Walmsley, Joshua, 50, Lord-street.

Dec. 10, 1849 Watling, John William Henry, M.R.C.S.E.. Wavertree.

May 18, 1857 Whitehead, James Wright, Orange-court, Castle-street
and 15, Dule-street, Edge-hill.

Oct. 15, 1855 Wilks, W. G., 1, Dale-street.

Feb. 5, 1855 Wybergh, John, jun., Sessions-house, and Church-road,
Seaforth.

CORRESPONDING MEMBERS.
LIMITED TO FIFTY.

Nov. 6, 1812 Peter Mark Roget, M.D.Edin., F.R.C.P., F.R.S., F.G.S.,
F.R.A.S., M.R.G.S., &c., London.

Feb. 2, 1815 George Cumming, M.D.Edin., L.R.C.P., Denbigh.

Feb. 12, 1819 John Stanley, M.D.Edin., Whitehaven.

Jan. 7, 1820 Joseph Carne, F.R.S., M.R.LA., F.G.S., &c., Penzance,
Cornwall.

Dec. 5, 1828 Rev. Brook Aspland, Duckingield, Cheshire.

Jan. 4, 1833 The Right Hon. the Earl of Harrowby, P.C., D.C.L.,
F.R.S., Sandon-hall, Staffordshire, and 39, Grosvenor-
square, Landon.

Jan. 4, 1833 James Yates, M.A., F.R.S., F.L.S., F.G.S., &c., Lauder-
dale-house, Highgate, London.

April 12, 1833 Thomas Stewart Traill, M.D.Edin., F.R.C.P.E., F.R.S.E.,

' E.G.S., &c., Edinburgh University.

Jan. 2, 1835 John Ashton Yates, M.R.G.S., Bryanston-square, London.

Jan. 2, 1835 George Patten, A.R.A., 21, Queen’s-road West, Regent-
park, London.

May 1, 1835 William Ewart, M.P., Cambridge-square, Hyde-park,
London.

Nov. 2, 1835 The Right Hon. Lord Brougham and Vaux, M.A., F.R.S.

Oct. 17, 1836 Chevalier de Kirchoff, Antwerp.

Xili.

Feb. 20, 1837 The Right Hon. the Earl of Burlington, M.A., LL.D.,
F.R.S., M.R.LA., F.G.S., M.R.G.S., F.C.P.S., F.Z.5.,
Belgrave-square, London.

Novy. 12, 1838 Professor Airey. M.A., D.C.L., F.R.S., Hon. F.R.S.E.,
Bon. M.R.LA., F.R.A.S., F.C.P.S., &c., Astronomer
Royal, Greenwich.

Feb. 24, 1840 James Naysmith, Patrieroft.

Noy. 2, 1840 Richard Duncan Mackintosh, L.R.C.P., Eweter, Devon-

Nov. 15, 1841 wee ae. M.D.Glasg., Fell. F.P., and §.Glasg.,
Socio. dell’Accad. de Lin. Roma., Ludlow.
Oct 21,1844 J. Beete Jukes, M.A., F.R.S., M.R.LA., F.G.S., Local
Director of the Geological Survey of Ireland, Dublin.
Oct. 21, 1844 T. P. Hall, London.
Oct. 21, 1844 Peter Rylands, Warrington.
Oct. 21, 1844 John Scouler, M.D., LL.D., F.L.S., Prof. Nat. Hist.
Dublin Royal Society, Dublin.
Oct. 21, 1844 Thomas Rymer Jones, F.R.S.,F.Z.S., F.L.8.,M.R.C.S.E.
&e., King’s College, London.
Oct. 21, 1844 Robert Patterson, Belfast.
Oct. 21, 1844 Signor L. Ballardi, Turin.
Oct. 21, 1844 Signor Michelotti, Turin.
Oct. 21, 1844 Thomas Bell Salter, M.D.Edin., M.I.C.S.E.Eng, and
Edin., F.L.S., F.B.S.E., Ryde, Isle of Wight.
Oct 21, 1844 Professor Alger, Boston, U.S.
Oct. 21, 1844 Sir Charles Lemon, Bart., M.A.Cantab., F.R.S., F.G.S
Cardew, Cornwall.
Oct. 21, 1844 I] Cavaliere Carlo Passerini, Pisa.
1844 William Carpenter, M.D.Edin., M.R.C.S.E., F.R.S.,
F.G.S., London University.
1846 Rev. Baden Powell, M.A.Oxon, F.R.S., F.R.A.S., F.G.S.,
&e., Oxford University.
1847 Sir William Rowan Hamilton, LL.D., Hon. F.R.S.E.,
M.R.LA., F.R.A.S., F.C.P.S., Astronomer pore of
Treland, ‘Dublin.
Nov. 26, 1849 Thomas Nuttall, F.L.S., Rainhill, Pee re
Noy. 26, 1849 Rev. Thomas Corser, M.A., Stand, Bury.
Jan. 8, 1850 Rev. St. Vincent Beechy, M.A.Cantab., Worsley, near
Eccles.
Jan. 27,1851 James Smith, F.R.SS.L. and K., F.G.S., &e., Jordan-
hill, Glasgow.

Xlv.

. 24,1851 Henry Clarke Pidgeon, London.

. 24, 1851 Rev. Robert Bickersteth Mayor, M.A.Cantab., Fell. St.

John’s Coll. Cantab., F.C.P.S., Rugby.

- 26,1852 Thomas Spencer, London.
- 26, 1852 William Reynolds, M.D., Coed-du, Denbighshire.
- 17,1853 Rev. James Booth, LL.D., F.R.S., &e., Wandsworth,

Surrey.
. 23, 1857 Thomas Hutchinson, H.M. Consul Fernando Po.

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PHY Liven PO OT,

LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.

ANNUAL MEETING—Forty-seventu SESSION.

Roya Institution, October 19th, 1857.

THOMAS INMAN, Esa., M.D., PresmpEnt, in the Chair.

The Secretary commenced the business of the evening
by reading the following report :—

The retirmg Council have but a brief report to present
at the opening of another Session. That which has
closed was very successful, a larger number of papers
than usual having been offered, and these at an earlier °
period than is generally the case, thereby considerably
furthering the sessional business.

The society lost by death two distinguished correspond-
ing members—the Right Hon. the Earl of Ellesmere, K.G.
and the Rev. Dr. Scoresby, F.R.S.; and by the same
cause, two of its ordinary members—Richard Vaughan
Yates, Esq., and Robert Bickersteth, Esq. Its strength
of members compared with that at the beginning of the
last Session may be thus stated:

Ordinary members on the roll at last annual

TESTE eT ied N R ePrces,°S r 140

Ordinary members elected since then ............ 29

Total ordinary members enrolled _,...,.. 169
2

10

Total ordinary members enrolled .................. 169
Ordinary Members dtad <.........:.sessecsocnceaes 2
tr resigned — Messrs. T. F.
Linsese H. Behrend, T. Gray, A. Holt,
C. Kirwan, J. M‘Cann, N. Mcleod, W. H.
PERCses ete Tt. WW oShaIM .iccccceecsseescwandeade 9
Ordinary members removed from the roll—
Messrs. F. Archer, J.B. Aspinall, J.T. Danson,
De Finance, and F. L. Hodson ..............! 5

Total ordinary members at present time..... 153
Corresponding members on former list... 44
Hlected since then ...5....ss.0ssede+-e- estat d

Total members at opening forty-seventh Session 196

The volume of “ Proceedings” is far advanced, and
would have been in the hands of members but for unex-
pected delays.

An important event has marked the period of the
Society’s recess—the closure of the labours of the Com-
pass Committee, in the formation of which this Society
took the initiative. Itis a matter of congratulation that
their labours have been so highly marked by the govern-
ment as to have had their last report ordered to be laid
before both houses of parliament. The benefit which has
resulted to science and to the mercantile interest by these
operations, abundantly proves the value of suggestions
and pursuits closely directed to a particular inquiry.

The donations made to the Society, between the
months of June, 1856 and 1857, have been duly laid
before the meetings and recorded in the minutes. Among
these was a very liberal one from the executors and

a

11

family of Joseph Brooks Yates, Esq., F.S.A., thrice the
President of this Society. These volumes, together with
the perfect volumes belonging to the Society, are de-
posited in the Society’s apartments, and under easy
regulations, are at the service of the members.

At the last meeting of the British Association the
Society was well represented, the members present being
received as a deputation.

The Treasurer’s accounts, which will be laid before
you, show the Society to be in a very satisfactory finan-
cial position.

Inaccordance with the laws of this Society, the retiring
Council recommend the following members, in the room
of the five who are not eligible for re-election: The Rev.
John Robberds, B.A., Messrs. Grainger, B.A., Edward
Fletcher, Robert Clay, and W.J. Lamport. They beg now
to thank the members for their support, and solicit a con-
tinuance of their hearty co-operation in the pursuit of
those elevating objects for which the Scciety is constituted.

(Signed) Tuomas Inman, M.D., President.
Davip P. Tuomson, M.D., Hon. Sec.
Royal Institution, October 5th, 1857.

The Treasurer's accounts were then submitted, from
which it appeared that the outlay of the Society for the
year had amounted to £115 1s. 1d., while the balance
in hand was £210 1s. 54d.

Mr. Swinton Boutt remarked that the sum of £10 10s.
set down as a charge for reporting the mectings, seemed
to him unusual. He felt certain that the newspaper
press would be happy to report the Society’s Proceedings
with as much fulness as was desirable, without any
charge whatever. He should not object to the payment
of the present sum, but should feel himself warranted in
endeavouring to prevent it for the future.

12

The Srorerary explained that the charge was voted
by the Society, according to usual form of having the
subject twice before them, and on both occasions affirmed.

The report. was adopted and accounts passed.

A ballot being taken for a new Council, the votes stood
thus :—For the five new men—John Grainger, B.A. 15,
Edward Fletcher 15, Robert Clay 15, Rev. John Robberds,
B.A. 13, and W. J. Lamport 13; for the nine others—
H. H. Higgins, M.A. 17, Isaac Byerley, F.L.S. 17, Dr.
Thomson 16, J. B. Edwards, Ph.D. 16, W. Ihne, Ph.D. 15,
T. C. Archer 15, Richard Brooke, F.S.A. 15, J. C. Redish
13, A. Higginson 10. The President’s term not having
expired, Dr. Inman continued in that office. The Vice-
Presidents, Treasurer, and Secretary, were then elected,
viz.—Rev. H. H. Higgins, M.A., T. C. Archer, W. Ihne,
Ph.D., Vice-Presidents; Isaac Byerley, F.L.S., Treasurer ;
and David P. Thomson, M.D., Honorary Secretary.

The following donations to the Society were announced :
Hansen’s Tables de la Lune; Earl of Dundonald on the
Bitumen of Trinidad; Reports of the Liverpool Compass
Committee ; Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society;
Newlands’s Report on Baths and Wash-houses; Pro-
ceedings of the Historic Society, vol. 9; Spencer’s Report
on the Corporation Water Works; Nevins and Edwards
on the Rivington Water—several copies for distribution ;
Proceedings of the Linnean Society; Ditto Zoological
Society; Ditto Chymists’ Association; Ditto Dublin
Natural History Society; Ditto Dublin Geological So-
ciety ; Report of the Warwick Natural History Society ;
Provincial Magazine, 4 parts.

RicHaAkD Brooke, Esq., F.8.A., exhibited a curious
antique bronze celt, considered to have been fabricated
by the ancient Britons. He stated that celts were far
from uncommon in Western Europe; and that he had
seen many of them both in this country and in France;

13

and that there was an excellent collection of them in
Liverpool, in Mr. Mayer’s museum—that antiquaries dif-
fered with respect to the use of them; some supposing
that they were weapons, and others that they were
implements used by the ancient Britons and other unci-
vilized tribes. He drew the attention of the meeting to
the circumstance that, on each side of the one now ex-
hibited, there were some slight attempts at ornamenting
it, by small raised ribs or projecting lines; and that on
one side of it there was a bronze loop (which was not
uncommon in other celts), apparently intended to suspend
it by means of a thong, or string, to the neck or belt of
the person who carried it; all of which showed an ad-
vanced degree of skill in the workmanship, when com-
pared with the very rude and ill-shaped celts found in
some museums. He observed that moulds for casting
celts have been discovered in this country; and that
several of them are in the British Museum, in one of
which, in consequence of some defect in the casting,
there is a celt fast in the matrix.

Mr. BrooxE also stated that the celt now exhibited
was found in Northamptonshire, and was presented to
him last May, when visiting for the second time Bosworth
Field, by Mr. John Rubley, of Dadlington Fields, near
there, whose kindness, in pointing out the various objects
of interest connected with the battle, Mr. Brooke had
occasion to mention to the Society, when reading his
paper upon the “ Field of the Battle of Bosworth.”

Mr. Brooke likewise mentioned, as an interesting cir-
cumstance, that the ancient custom of tolling the curfew
bell, still existed in some places in Lancashire and
Cheshire, and that he had been told that Winwick was
one of them; but that the custom was certainly kept up
at Wilmslow, in Cheshire. He had had occasion, during
many years past, to go occasionally into the neighbourhood

14

of Wilmslow, and had very often heard it; and even as
recently as last week he had repeatedly heard it. The
curfew was always tolled there at eight o’clock in the
evening, except Saturdays and Sundays. To accommo-
date the publicans, a deviation from the hour on those
days had lately been made, and instead of eight o’clock,
as formerly, it was now tolled at eleven in the evening
of Saturday, and at nine in the evening of Sunday, in
order to warn them to close their houses in Wilmslow.

Mr. T. C. Arncurer remarked that the curfew was regu-
larly tolled in the cathedral at Chester, and other in-
stances were cited by different members.

This concluded the business of the meeting.

SECOND ORDINARY MEETING.
Royat Institution, November 2nd, 1857.
DR. INMAN, Presrpent, in the Chair.

It was announced that the Council, in order to extend
the usefulness of the library, had communicated with
other societies, with a view to an exchange of publica-
tions, and had also made arrangements for the more free
circulation of books among the members.

Referring to the bequest of the late Mr. Yates, includ-
ing the Transactions of the British Association up to the
year 1854, the Srcrerary mentioned that Dr. Inman had,
in the handsomest manner, promised to continue the
series during his own lifetime, he being a life-member of

i. ° x

15

the Association. The intimation elicited a very warm
acknowledgment from the members present.

An application for a subscription to a memorial to
Jeremiah Horrocks, the astronomer, was referred to the
Council. In the application, Horrocks was spoken of as
“a hardworking curate,” which, it was observed, decided
the question which has been raised, as to whether he had
ever been in holy orders or not.

Dr. THomson exhibited two ancient and valuable coins,
found recently in Wiltshire. The one was a gold British
coin, of such antiquity that its date was a matter of con-
jecture ; the other was a Roman silver coin of Augustus,
of very fine workmanship.

Mr. T. C. Ancuer exhibited a piece of siliceous conglo-
merate of the Eocene period, found at the junction of the
Uraguay and Paraguay, in South America. It contained
nodules of wood-agate, chalcedony, and opal, showing
the district to be rich in minerals.

The Rev. H. H. Hiacins exhibited four specimens of
fungoid plants, found in this neighbourhood, which
attracted much attention, particularly Lycoperdon gigan-
teum, from its enormous size, and Peziza aurantia, an un-
dried specimen, on account of the extreme beauty of its
tints. The others were, Polyporus sulphureus, and Poly-
porus squamosus.

Mr. Swinton Bovutt showed an elevation of a piano-
forte manufactory at Boston, which employed four hun-
dred hands, and turned out thirty-five instruments in a
week, each requiring six months to perfect it; notwith-
standing which, the supply was not equal to the demand.

The following paper was then read :—

16

AN OUTLINE OF THE LIFE OF
RICHARD NEVILLE, THE GREAT EARL OF WAR-
WICK AND SALISBURY, CALLED THE
KING-MAKER.

By RICHARD BROOKE, ESQ., F.S.A.

Warwick—* For thou shalt know, this strong right hand of mine
Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry’s head,
And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
Were he as famous and as bold in war,
As he is fam’d for mildness, peace, and prayer.”
Shakespeare’s Henry VI., part 3, act 2, scene 1,

Richard Neville, the eldest son of Richard Neville,
Earl of Salisbury, and Alice his wife, daughter of Thomas
de Montacute, Earl of Salisbury, married Anne, daughter
of Richard Beauchamp, sixteenth Earl of Warwick (by
his second wife), and sister and sole heiress of the whole
blood of Henry Beauchamp, Duke of Warwick, and in
consequence of his marriage with her, and also on
account of his services in war, Richard Neville, by patent
of the 27th year of King Henry VI., obtained the title
and dignity of (18th) Earl of Warwick, and as will be
mentioned afterwards, he acquired various other titles,
dignities, and offices, of great rank and importance.

The Earl of Warwick was one of the most powerful
noblemen, whom England produced in the fifteenth cen-
tury. He possessed vast property and wealth, was
related or nearly allied to the principal and most influen-
tial of the English families of rank; and his own family
(the Nevilles), reckoned amongst its members the most
potent and warlike noblemen of the realm. The Earl of
Warwick’s grandfather was Ralph Neville, first Earl of
Westmoreland, who died in the fourth year of Henry IV.,
and had by his first wife, Margaret, daughter of Hugh,

ee

17

Earl of Stafford, a son, John Lord Neville, who died be-
fore his father, leaving a son, Ralph Neville, second Earl of
Westmoreland; and by his second wife, Joan, daughter ot
John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and widow of Sir Robert
Ferrers, (first) Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury before
mentioned, (second) William Neville, Lord Falconberg,
(third) George Neville, Lord Latimer, (fourth) Edward
Neville, Lord Abergavenny, and (fifth) Robert Neville,
Bishop of Durham; besides which he had by his second
wife five daughters, four of whom married noblemen of
high rank, and one became a nun; his fifth daughter,
Cecily Neville, married Richard Plantagenet, Duke of
York, the potent and formidable rival of King Henry VI.,
and the claimant of the throne of England. Richard
Neville, Earl of Salisbury, by his wife Alice, daughter of
Thomas de Montacute, Earl of Salisbury, had several
sons, viz., Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the subject
of this paper, (second) Sir John Neville, afterwards Lord
Neville, afterwards Earl of Northumberland, and more
recently Marquis of Montague, (third) Sir Thomas Neville,
and (fourth) George Neville, Bishop of Exeter, afterwards
Archbishop of York, and Lord Chancellor, and six daugh-
ters, all of whom married noblemen of great power and
rank.

Besides the alliance of the Nevilles with the Duke
of York, they were through him related by mar-
riage to the great and potent family of Bourchier,
the Duke of York’s sister, Isabel, having married
Henry Bourchier, Earl of Ewe, afterwards Viscount
Bourchier, and afterwards Earl of Essex, and _ he,
together with his brothers William Bourchier, Lord
Fitzwarine, Thomas Bourchier, Bishop of Ely, and after-
wards Archbishop of Canterbury, and a Cardinal, and
John Bourchier, Lord Berners, were the sons of William
Bourchier, Earl of Ewe, and Anne his wife, daughter of

3

18

Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, sixth son of King Edward IIL.,
and widow of Edmund, Ear! of Stafford, slain at the battle
of Shrewsbury, in 1403.

The alliances of the mighty Nevilles, so far as they are
material to the proper elucidation of the contents of this
paper, will be found in the portion of the accompanying
pedigree.

At the period when the Duke of York aspired to, and
was cautiously taking his measures to obtain the crown,
his principal confidential friends, through whose assist-
ance and power he hoped to secure the prize which he
coveted, were the Earl of Salisbury, the Earl of Warwick
and John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, between whom and
the Duke of York there was a family connection, from
the Duke of Norfolk’s having married Anne Bourchier,
sister of Henry Bourchier, Earl of Ewe, afterwards
Viscount Bourchier, and afterwards Earl of Essex, and
the latter having married Isabel, sister of the Duke of
York, as before mentioned.

The Earl of Warwick had given repeated proofs of his
valour, was warlike and talented in military matters, and
was beloved by the soldiers.

He, like other powerful noblemen of England, in
the feudal ages, could command the services, in war, of
large bodies of retainers and vassals, and, as will be soon
noticed, Warwick’s power in that respect, caused him to
be a most valuable ally, to amy one whose cause he
espoused, and a most formidable foe, to whoever he con-
sidered to be his adversary. He was liberal, generous,
frank, and munificent; which qualities rendered him ex-
ceedingly popular.

With respect to his extraordinary hospitality, we have
the authority of one of the most authentic of our old
historical writers, that at the Earl of Warwick’s house, in
London, six oxen were usually eaten at a breakfast; and

|
SE OF NEVILLE.

Isabel—=Edmunda,

William — Anne, daughter
a Peter, | Earl of Bourchier, | cf Thomas, Duke of
hstile | Cambridge, Earl of | Gloucester, 6th son of
on. | and afterwards Ewe,in | King Edward III.,
| Duke of York, Normandy. | ané widow of Edmund
| _ fifth son of . Earl of Stafford,
King Edward III. who was slain at the
died in 1402, Battle of Shrewsbury
| in 1403.
|
: f
Ist wife, Eliz See ae auehard,
daughter q) °8°r | CambHidge
| se, |
ceaas arch. beheaded at
oe 2 | Southampton
in 1415,
Sil
Fa
——$<———wrw—r- =... oe
l | |
Ist One
Alice—Richard d Isabel—Henry : William, Thomas John, Anne j
daughter | Neville, ead Plantagenet | Bonrchier, _ Lord Bourchier, Lord Married
of Secmas Earl of ? of Earlof Fitzwarine Bishop of Berners. John
de Salisbury, Ewe, ’ Mowbray,
Miantacute | executed| at afterwards afterwards Duke of
Farl of after the field Ear! of Archbishop Norfolk.
Salisbury. | Battle of 0. Essex. of
Wakefield Canterbury
in 1460. | anda
} | Cardinal.
at | |
enry Humphrey Sir J ohn Sir Sir
chier. Bourchier, Bourchier. Thomas Edward
/ Lord Bourchier. Bourchier,
/ Cromwell, slain at
| slain at Wakefield
| Barnet in in 1460.
} 1471.

|
Ist

A PORTION OF THE PEDIGREE AND ALLIANCES OF THE HOUSE OF NEVILLE.

let wife, Margaret

—————Ralph Neville;

2nd wife, Joan, daughter

Tsabel—=Edmund,

William —= Anne, daughter

daughter of Hugh, 1st Earl of Westmoreland | of John of Gaunt, Duke of daughter of Peter, | Earl of Bourchier. f Thomas, Duke of ;
Earl of Stafford. | ob. 4th Henry VI. | Tana) pron of King of G#stile ‘ Cambridge, Earl of’ Glenceeban Bian of
Sir Robert Ferrers. and Leon. and afterwards Ewe, in King Edward ITI.,
puke: eee Normandy. nent of Edmund
arl of Stafford.
King Edward III. who was slain at the
died in 1402. Battle of Shrewsbury
| in 1403, ‘
Elizabeth—John. Lord Neville, Other issue.
daughter of son andsheir |
Thomas Holland, | apparent died |
Earl of Kent. | in his
| Father's lifetime.
| |
; : Se . : — + vaste of | $ E dwar y: Mortimer—2nd son, Richard
Ist wife, Elizabeth—=Ralph | eville —=2nd wife, Margaret Sir John Neville, —=Anne daughter of TERROR ED W ant, aang fon; Richard,
daughter of ond Earl of daughter of Sir commonly called John, Duke of Duke of York, daughter of Roger Earl of
Henry Percy, | Westmoreland, Reginald Cobbam. John, Lord Neville, Exeter, SUES) ERECTA Morkiner, CAME REGR, |
called Hotspur. died in 2nd slain at Dintingdale and widow of of Agincourt, 4th Earl of March. beheaded at |
Richard III. in 1461. — Sir John Neville. | in 1415,S.P. See |
in M415,
Sir John Neville—Anne Holland
died in bis daughter of John,
lifetime, Duke of Exeter.
l ]
Ist 2nd 3rd 4th 5th 6th Ist 2nd 3rd 4th oth l L | l
Alice=Richard William George—Elizabeth Edward Robert Cuthbert, Katherine Eleanor Anne=1st Husbd. Jane Cecily—Richard Isabel—=Henry William Thomas John Anne
daughter | Neville, Neville, Neville, daughter Neville, Neville, 7th Neville Neville, Neville. | Humphrey Neville, Neville, Plantagenet Plantagenet | Bourchier, Lord ” Bourchier. Lord Marnie
of Thomas | Earl of Lord Lord of Baron Bishop of Henry, Married wife of | Stafford, anun, died in Duke of Earlof Fitzwarine Bishop of Berners. John
de Salisbury, Falconberg Latimer. | Richard de Abergavenny Durham, 8th Ist, John Henry Duke of 1495. York, | Ewe, F it Mowbray,
Montacute| executed afterwards Beauchamp Married, 1438, died Thomas; Mowbray, Percy, Bucking- slain at afterwards afterwards Duke ol
Earl of after the EarlofKent Earl of IstElizabeth, in 1457. all died Duke of Earl of ham, Wakefield Earl of Archbishop Norfolk
Salisbury. | eee aa Warwick. daughter of Ss. P. Norfolk; Northum- slain at in 1460. Essex. : of : 4
akefie! oan William 2aod berland ; Northamp-
in 1460. daughter of | Beauchamp, Sir John slain at | ton in 1460; Canterey
Moms | ear of Wodeville, St, Albans anu Weler Cardinal.
ord Vorcester ; son of in 1455, ount,
Faleonberg | 2d Katherine, Richard, Lord
| r sister of John Earl of Mountjoy.
Sir Henry Howard, Rivers.
Neville, Duke of Margaret—Humphrey
| executed at Norfolk. daughter Karl of
ebay of Stafford, i 1 1 | |
| in 1469. Ed slain at Sir Wi iy ‘ ; ‘ 1
| Duke of St. Albans SR ram ue ee ES rt ee
4 ; 1455 sourchier, ourchier, Bourchier, Bourchier. Thomas Fdward
BS OTD Bees eae his Lord ; Bourchier. Bourchier,
vathers Cromwell, slain at
lifetime. slain at Wakefield
Barnet in in 1460.
1471.
j
Ist aha y sla ah 1st alla sa aR ak on {
Richard Anne, Sir John Sir Thomas George Neville, Joan Neville Cecily Alice Neville Eleanor KatherineNeville Margaret
te daughter of Neville, Neville Bishop of Married Married Henry Married Neville Married, Ist to Neville,
Bees par 0! Richard afterwards Married the Exeter, _ William de Beauchamp Henry, Married William Bonvile, Married
Warwick. | de Beauchamp Marquis of Widow of Lord afterwards Fitzalan, Earl Duke of Lord¥itzhugh, Thomas, Lord Harrington, John de Vere,
anaes pees ne, W sUOaEBEY, Archbishop of of Arundel. Warwick, Baron of Lord Stanley, slainatWakefield Earl of Oxford.
Brw10k siein. ea W. cake at. York, and 2nd Ravensworth. afterwards in 1460, 2nd to
in 1471. a en in ee ohn ais ik Earl of Derby. William,
-200. ci . arl o} Lord Hastings
Worcester, put to death in
executed in 1485,
1470.
| |
Ist 2nd
Isabel Anne
Marnedto Married, Ist to
George, Edward, 1
uke of Prince of Wales, |
Clarence, 2nd to
Richard,
Duke of
Gloucester.

19

that every person who had any acquaintance with the
family, might come to his kitchen, and take away as
much sodden and roast meat as he wanted, and as he
could carry upon a long dagger, to be consumed either
at his own house, or at any tavern. These extraordinary
circumstances, the splendour of his manner of living, his
valiant and soldier-like qualities, his generosity, hospi-
tality, and talents, as well as the general tenor of his
conduct, made him the most popular man of the nation.

He was Admiral to King Henry VI., and was styled
Great Captain of the Sea, having for his support in that
office, not only all the tonnage and poundage belonging
to the king, but a thousand pounds per annum out of the
revenues of the Duchy of Lancaster. By the King’s
favour, he had a grant of pre-eminence above all the
Earls of England; and moreover, to add to his greatness,
a peculiar officer-at-arms, for his service in martial em-
ployments, called “ the Warwick Herald.”

We are much in the dark respecting the early life of
the Earl of Warwick; the Baronages and Chronicles
afford very little information upon that subject; nor is it
at all clear where he acquired the knowledge of the art
of war, and the capacity for military command, which
afterwards distinguished him in the disastrous conflicts of
York and Lancaster. He had, however, rendered valu-
able service in the wars of Scotland; and as his father,
the Earl of Salisbury, was a commander of eminence, and
served in the wars in France, it is not unreasonable to
conclude, that the Earl of Warwick may have accom-
panied him to France, in some of the campaigns, and
there acquired a knowledge of military matters, of
which he had so many occasions to avail himself in the
wars of York and Lancaster.

The Duke of York, having formed the scheme of de-
throning King Henry VI., and of obtaining the crown of

20

England, found it necessary for a considerable time to
disguise his real intentions, and to profess a desire to
reform what was amiss, remove evil counsellors, and
correct abuses in the government; but during all that
period he was in confidential communication with the
Karl of Salisbury and Earl of Warwick, and principally
relied upon their co-operation and power for the success
of his enterprise.

After several important occurrences, connected with the
weakness and incapacity of Henry VI., the conduct of
his Queen, Margaret of Anjou, the Duke of York’s having
been at the head of the national affairs, and having acted
somewhat in the nature of Regent or Viceroy during the
King’s illness, by the authority committed to him by the
the Lords of the Realm, and his having been removed
from that office after having held it a short time, which
are scarcely within the scope and objects of this paper,
Henry appeared with an army of Lancastrians at St.
Albans, and the Duke of York marched thither at the
head of an army of Yorkists. A battle ensued on the
22nd" of May, 1455, in which the Earl of Warwick com-
manded the vanguard of the army of the Duke of York,
and entering the town through a garden, gave the first
onset. The Lancastrians were defeated with great
slaughter, Henry was wounded in the face with an
arrow, and was taken prisoner.

Shortly afterwards a Parliament was summoned in the
King’s name, and the Duke of York was declared Pro-
tector ot the Realm; the Earl of Warwick was appointed
Captain of Calais, and the Earl of Salisbury was made
Lord Chancellor. In 1456,-Margaret and several of the
noblemen of the Lancastrian party, formed a scheme to
displace the Duke of York, and Henry, being in better
health than he had previously been, came before the

(1) Some historians state that it was fought on the 23rd of May.

21

Parliament, and discharged the Duke of York from the
office of Protector. The Earl of Salisbury was removed
from the office of Lord Chancellor. Sometime afterwards
Margaret and some of the Lancastrian party, appear to have
formed a scheme for getting York, Salisbury, and War-
wick into their power; and being with Henry at Coventry,
caused the King to send for them to that city. They
proceeded accordingly towards it, but having received
some intimation that danger awaited them there, they
got away; York to his castle at Wigmore, in Hereford-
shire, in the Marches of Wales; Salisbury to his castle at
Middleham, in Yorkshire; and the Earl of Warwick to
Calais.

However, in 1458, King Henry, and Thomas Bourchier,
Archbishop of Canterbury, and several other Bishops,
being desirous to terminate the feuds between the par-
tizans of the factions of York and Lancaster, overtures
were made for a meeting, with a view to a reconciliation;
and accordingly the great leaders of the rival parties
met in London, in 1458. Warwick presented himself
there, amongst the others, he having come over from
Calais, and was attended by six hundred men, all wearing
his livery, in red coats, with white ragged staves, embroi-
dered before and behind. A hollow and transient ap-
pearance of reconciliation took place, and the great
opposite leaders went together, in solemn procession, to
St. Paul’s Church, to celebrate the seeming termination
of hostile feelings.

Not long afterwards, however, happened an aftray,
between a servant of the King and one of the Earl of
Warwick’s followers, and it gave colour to a report that
there was a design to kill the Earl, which occasioned
him to hasten to Calais, to make sure of that important
place.

In the summer of 1459, Warwick brought over a body

22

of veteran soldiers from Calais, and with them Andrew
Trollope, an experienced commander,” who had served
with great valour against the French, to a general ren-
dezvous, which the Yorkists had appointed to be held at
Ludlow. Salisbury, in marching to join them, gained a
complete victory, on the 23rd of September, 1459, over
the Lancastrians, in a battle at Blore Heath, and effected
a junction with the Yorkists without further difficulty.
The army of Henry and that of the Duke of York, then
drew near to each other, the latter being encamped in
Herefordshire, at Ludford, near the town of Ludlow, and
a battle appeared to be all but inevitable; and the Earl
of Warwick produced some persons publicly to swear
that the King was dead, and caused mass to be said, and
offerings to be made, in order that the Yorkists might
have the less difficulty in taking the field.

A pardon was offered, in Henry’s name, to such of the
Yorkists who would lay down their arms; and Andrew
Trollope, perceiving that the Duke of York was aiming at
the crown of England, instead, as had been pretended, of
rectifying misgovernment, and removing evil counsellors
from the King, privately deserted the Yorkists, and
taking with him a serviceable body of men, went over to
the King; which so discouraged the Yorkist leaders, and
not knowing how many others might follow his example,
that they thought it expedient to disperse ‘immediately ;
the Duke of York, with his second son, the Earl of Rut-
land, fled through Wales, into Ireland; and the Earls of
March, Salisbury, and Warwick, hastened into Devonshire,
where Sir John Denham provided ships for them, and
they landed on 2nd of November, at Calais. Soon after
this bloodless victory, King Henry called a parliament
at Coventry, and the Earl of Warwick, and others of the

(1) He is called Sir Andrew Trollope by several historians, and it is probable,
that he received the honour of knighthood, before his death at the battle of Towton.

23

Yorkist leaders were attainted, and declared guilty of
high treason.

The Government of Calais having been conferred by
Henry’s ministers, a short time before the affair of Lud-
ford, upon Henry, Duke of Somerset, son of Edmund, Duke
of Somerset, who had been slain at the first battle of
St. Albans, in 1455, they were anxious to remove
- Warwick from it, but that was easier said than done;
Somerset had a formidable adversary to deal with, and
on approaching Calais, was repulsed by the cannon of
the town, and prevented from entering the harbour.
Warwick maintained himself there, with a considerable
booty which he had acquired at sea, as Admiral, and
which is said to have amounted not to less than
the value of £10,000; for he had, after two days’ fight,
taken three vessels of Genoa, and two of Spain, laden
with merchandize, with the loss of about a hundred men
of his own, and a thousand of theirs.

Somerset being compelled, by the hostile reception at
Calais, to land in another place, proceeded to Guisnes,
but he was equally unsuccessful there, and had to send
to England for succour. Warwick’s good fortune still
predominated, for Lord Rivers, and his son, Sir Anthony
Woodville, afterwards Lord Scales, with ships and a body
of men, were detained at Sandwich by contrary winds,
and Warwick, having good information of what was
going on, sent a body of land forces in some vessels,
under the command of Sir John Denham, surprised Lord
Rivers and his principal men, in their beds, one morning,
and carried them away, with all their ships, to Calais.

Warwick soon afterwards sailed from Calais to Ireland,
to confer with the Duke of York respecting their affairs,
and as to effecting a landing in England; and on his
return towards Calais, met the Duke of Exeter, lately
made Admiral, who had been sent to intercept him; but

24

Exeter, not liking to trust his own seamen, did not ven-
ture to encounter Warwick.

The Earls of March, Salisbury, and Warwick, soon
afterwards landed in Kent, but still continued to profess
loyalty to Henry; and the Earl of Warwick swore at the
cross in Canterbury, that they had ever borne true faith
and allegiance to Henry, and gave out that they only
desired admission to the King, for the liberty of speech
with him. Great numbers, of all ranks, joined them, and
they were, on the 2nd July, 1460, received with cordi-
ality into London, except into the Tower, which was for
a short time defended by Lord Scales.

This success was soon followed up by something still
more important; the army of the Earls of March, Salisbury,
and Warwick, encountered that of Henry at Northamp-
ton, on the 9th of July, 1460; when a bloody battle
ensued, at which Warwick had a principal command; the
Lancastrian army was defeated, with great slaughter,
Henry was taken prisoner, and conveyed to London.
A parliament was called, and the Duke of York was once
more appointed Protector of the Realm, and declared to
be Henry’s successor.

The battle of Wakefield afterwards took place, when
the Duke of York was defeated, and lost his life, and the
Earl of Salisbury was wounded, taken prisoner, and be-
headed; but the tide of victory soon turned in favour of
the other side, for the battle of Mortimer’s Cross was
shortly afterwards fought, when Edward, Earl of March,”
the eldest son of the Duke of York, obtained a complete
victory over the Lancastrians.

The Earl of Warwick was not present at either of those
battles; but on Shrove Tuesday, the 17th of February,
1460-1, he and John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, having

(1) Historians usually call him Earl of March, but after the death of his father
he had become Duke of York. :

25

King Henry with them at St. Albans, and having under
their command an army of Yorkists, attempted to stop
the progress towards London, of the Queen and her army
of Lancastrians; a battle ensued, the Queen’s forces
obtained the victory, and delivered Henry out of the
custody of the Yorkists. A junction was soon afterwards
effected between the army of Edward and the portion of
the Earl of Warwick’s forces that had escaped from the
battle of St. Albans. The Queen was refused admittance
into London, and she consequently retired with the King
and the young Prince of Wales towards the north, and
Edward, with the Yorkists, entered London without any
opposition; where, on the 4th of March, 1460-1, he was
proclaimed King, by the title of Edward IV.

On the 7th of March the Earl of Warwick and a large
portion of the Yorkist army marched from London to-
wards the north; and on the 12th, Edward and the
remainder of his army also left London, in order to en-
counter and fight the army of Henry; and the important
and sanguinary battle of Towton, at which Edward and
the Earl of Warwick commanded the main body,” was
fought by the rival armies on Palm Sunday, the 29th of
March 1461, when the Lancastrians were completely de-
feated, with prodigious slaughter, and which established
Edward for a considerable time upon the throne of
England. He was crowned King at Westminster, with
all the usual forms and ceremonies of the Sovereigns of
England, on the 20th of June following; after which
there was nothing of honour, authority, and benefit that
the new King could bestow, and which the Earl of War-
wick desired, but he obtained it. He was soon made

(1) I do not consider it necessary to notice the statement which is to be found in
some authors, that the Earl of Warwick stabbed his horse, upon hearing of a disas-
ter having occurred to Lord Fitzwalter and his forces at Ferry Bridge; the tale
is an improbable one, and he, as a soldier, most likely knew the value of a war

horse too well, to destroy it wantonly or foolishly.

4

26

Captain of Calais, and of the Tower of Risebank, and
Lieutenant of the Marches there, and Governor of the
Castle of Guisnes. The latter he bound himself to keep
as long as he lived, with forty-eight men-at-arms on foot;
himself and his Lieutenant on horseback, and fifty
archers on foot.

He was likewise constituted General Warden of the
East Marches towards Scotland, Lord Great Chamberlain
of England for life, Constable of Dover Castle, and Lord
High Steward of England. Besides which, in recompence
of his many and great services, he obtained a grant in
fee of the Manor of More End, in Northamptonshire, and
of the Manors of Atherstone and Fulbroke, in Warwick-
shire. In 1462 he was made Constable of the Castle of
Hammes, in the Marches of Picardy, to be held by himself
or his deputy for the term of his life ; and to have there
one archer on horseback, and seventeen men-at-arms on
foot, and also seventeen archers.

Besides Warwick’s own lands and possessions, which
were great, he had many lordships granted to him, as
well crown lands, as lands forfeited by attainders of the
Lancastrians, and had also several great offices conferred
upon him; so that it has been stated that his revenues
were valued at fourscore thousand crowns per annum,
besides his own inheritance.”

It does notappearvery clearly what first caused a coolness
between King Edward and Warwick, but some historians
have stated that Warwick was employed by Edward to
treat with Louis XI., King of France, for a marriage be-
tween Edward and the Lady Bona, daughter to Louis
Duke of Savoy, sister to the French Queen, and that he
received a favourable reply; but that in the meantime
it happened that Edward, taking the recreation of hunt-
ing in Wychwood Forest, near Stoney Stratford, visited

(1) Phillippe de Commines. Book iii., chap. iv.

27

the Duchess of Bedford, at her residence at Grafton, in
Northamptonshire, and there saw Elizabeth, the widow
of Sir John Grey, who lost his life on the Lancastrian
side, at the first battle of St. Albans, and that Edward
was so captivated with her beauty, that he eventually
concluded to marry her.

It has been said, that after King Edward had obtained
the crown, through the power of the Earl of Warwick,
suspecting danger by his greatness, he endeavoured to
diminish his power, which being discovered by Warwick,
he sought every opportunity to work the King’s ruin;
and also that Warwick having used many arguments to
dissuade the King from giving his sister Margaret in
marriage to Charles, son of Philip, Duke of Burgundy, he
felt aggrieved that he could not prevail. Whatever it
might be that caused the breach between King Edward
and Warwick, several years elapsed before their disunion
became apparent to the world.

In 1463 the Lancastrians, under Queen Margaret, again
attempted to make head in the north against King
Edward, who laid siege to the Castles of Alnwick, Bam-
borough, and Dunstanborough; the two latter capitulated
on Christmas Eve, and in January, 1464, Alnwick surren-
dered to the Earl of Warwick. Edward in the same year
empowered the Earl of Warwick, and John Neville, Earl
of Northumberland, afterwards Marquis of Montague, to
receive all rebels concerned in the disturbances in the
north, to mercy (with one or two exceptions), upon their
submission. Warwick laid siege to the Castle of Bam-
borough, and his cannon beat down a tower, and in its
fall it so injured the Governor, Sir Ralph Grey, that he
was taken up for dead, and afterwards executed, and the
garrison surrendered the Castle. Warwick then marched
to Berwick, took the town, burnt one or two places in
Scotland, and by those hostilities accelerated the conclu-

28

sion of a truce with Scotland for fifteen years. King
Henry was soon afterwards captured, and sent as a pri-
soner to London.

In 1465 the Earl of Warwick and Lord Wenlock were
sent to France, to treat with the agents of King
Louis XI., respecting a peace; and in the same year he
was joined in commission with the same Lord Wenlock,
and others, to treat with Philip, Duke of Burgundy, con-
cerning a mutual trade between the English merchants
and those of that Duke; and was at the same time em-
powered to treat with the Duke of Brittany respecting a
league of peace and amity. He was also joined as Com-
missioner with Lord Hastings, then Lord Chamberlain of
the King’s household, to treat and conclude, with James
Luxenburgh, Lord of Richbourgh, the King’s uncle,
respecting a league of amity between Charles of Bur-
gundy, Karl of Charolois, and King Edward. He was
constituted one of the Commissioners to treat with those
from the King of Scotland, upon several grievances
brought forward on the part of the subjects of that realm,
contrary to the truce made between both Kings. In 1467
he was employed, with Lord Hastings, to confer with
Charles, Earl of Charolois, or his agents, respecting a
marriage, which was afterwards concluded, between that
Earl and Margaret, King Edward’s sister; and also to
treat of peace with the French King’s Ambassadors.

After the marriage of King Edward, the favours and
honours lavished by him upon the relations of the Queen,
the Wideyilles or Wodevilles, rendered them odious to
the nation, and added to the dissatisfaction in the mind
of the Earl of Warwick; and there are some historical
writers who state that that feeling was greatly influenced
by Edward’s haying entertained dishonourable intentions
with respect to a daughter of Warwick. The first
effects of Warwick’s discontent were not publicly known,

29

nor until about 1469, when, being in Warwickshire, he
sent for his two brothers, George Neville, Archbishop of
York, and John Neville, Marquis of Montague, at which
time he communicated to them his reasons for the restora-
tion of King Henry, and soon won them to his views.
Taking advantage of some feeling of discontent which
George, Duke of Clarence, the King’s brother, enter-
tained, Warwick allured him to his side, and in order to fix
him more strongly in his interests, gaye him Isabel, his
eldest daughter, in marriage, with half the lands of her
mother’s inheritance, and the marriage was solemnized
in the Chapel of our Lady, at Calais.

In 1469 an insurrection broke out in Yorkshire against
Edward, which was soon followed by a battle fought at
Edgecote, in Northamptonshire, but near Banbury, and
from that circumstance called the battle of Banbury,
where the royal forces were defeated. It is not certain
that Warwick was implicated in this insurrection, although
it is probable that he was privy to, or encouraged it. He
shortly afterwards came over to England, with the Duke
of Clarence, and Edward thought it necessary to keep
fair with them, but seems to have formed schemes for
depressing their power, and to draw off Warwick’s
brother, John Neville, Earl of Northumberland, after-
wards Marquis of Montague, from their party, by
dazzling him with the hopes of a marriage between his
son, George, Duke of Bedford, and Edward’s daughter,
the Princess Elizabeth. About this period, however,
according to several historians, the Earl of Warwick and
the Duke of Clarence succeeded in surprising King
Edward in the night, and causing him to be conveyed to
Middleham Castle, in Yorkshire, and left in the custody
of the Earl’s brother, the Archbishop of York; but
Edward, having been allowed the diversion of hunting in
the park, which the Archbishop permitted, made hisescape.

30

Historians are, however, far from agreeing whether
such a circumstance ever occurred ; and there are some
writers of credit and research, who confidently dispute it.

We have, however, a very high authority in Phillippe
de Commines, a historical writer of great celebrity of
that age, who was personally acquainted with Edward IV.;
and who mentions in the clearest terms, not only the
capture and custody of Edward, but his subsequent
escape :—“ En effect j’ay veu en ce temps ou peu ayant,
Je Comte de Warwic si fort, qu’ il mit le Roy, son maistre,

entre ses mains,” &c. &e. = = = ‘J

# # % % % #
“et garda le Roy son maistre une espace de temps hon-
nestement; et luy mit nouveaux serviteurs 4 l’entour,
pour luy faire oublier les autres; et luy sembloit que son
maistre estoit un peu simple. Le Duc de Bourgongne
eut grand doute de ceste adventure, et pratiquoit secrette-
ment que le Roy Edouard peust e’chaper, et quwil eust
moyen et fagon de parler a’ luy; et tant allerent les
choses, que le dict Roy Edouard e’chapa, et assembla
gens, et’ detroussa quelques bandes de ceux du dict
Comte de Warwic.””

Another very strong reason for our believing that it
occurred, is to be found in the act of attainder passed
against the Duke of Clarence, in which, amongst various
other accusations against him, he is charged with having
formerly put King Edward’s person “in straite warde,
puttying hym thereby from all his libertie;’® which it
seems very difficult, if not actually impossible, to apply
to any other circumstance than his detention in custody.

Another insurrection against Edward soon broke out in
Lincolnshire, and Edward proceeded in person against the
insurgents; and obtained a complete victory over them in

(1) Phillippe de Commines. Book iii., chap. iv.
(2) Rot. Parl. 17 Edward IV., (1477). Vol. vi., fo. 193.

31

battle, at Horn, five or six miles from Stamford, but in
Rutlandshire, and near the borders of Lincolnshire. The
battle is called by several names, as the battle of Stam-
ford, Hornfield, and Losecoat Field. Warwick and
Clarence had assembled forces, and appear to have in-
tended to have joined the insurgents, but their too hasty
proceedings prevented the design of the former, Warwick
and Clarence then proceeded into Lancashire, in hopes of
being joined by Thomas, Lord Stanley, who had married
Warwick’s sister, but were disappointed by Stanley’s re-
fusal; and not being able to effect anything against Edward,
as they had hoped, in Yorkshire, they found it requisite to
provide for themselves in all haste, proceeded to Devon-
shire, obtained ships, and embarked at Dartmouth. They
sailed towards Calais, of which town Warwick was Cap-
tain; but Vauclerc, a Gascon gentleman, whom he had
constituted his Lieutenant there, opposed his entrance,
and the cannon of Calais fired upon him, although he
privately gave reasons to Warwick, to excuse his conduct.
The Duchess of Clarence was delivered of a son, after-
wards the unfortunate Edward, Earl of Warwick, and it
was with difficulty that they got permission for the infant
to be christened at the church in the town, and obtained
two flaggons of wine for the refreshment of the ladies,
who were sick on board. Warwick then landed in Nor-
mandy, and receiving much countenance from the French
King, applied himself to Queen Margaret (wife of King
Henry VI.), who had fled thither for safety ; and Warwick,
the better to unite his and the Lancastrian interest to-
gether, matched his daughter Anne to Edward, Prince of
Wales, son of Henry VI. and of Queen Margaret, taking
a solemn oath to restore King Henry; by which course he
obtained no small assistance from the Queen’s friends.
There were many reasons for surmising that a league
so formed, between Margaret, Warwick, and Clarence,

32

contained too many manifest elements of discord to last
long. Clarence, by supporting Margaret, and taking
measures for the restoration of Henry, and the ultimate
succession to the crown of the Prince of Wales, was
uniting himself to the greatest enemies of his family, was
acting contrary to his own interests, and was virtually
excluding himself and his children from the chance of
succeeding to the throne. King Edward was too saga-
cious not to try to open the door to a reconciliation with
Clarence; and as negotiating by means of a female,
could be effected with less suspicion, than would have
been excited if a man had been sent over to Clarence, a
trustworthy and talented lady was sent to France, osten-
sibly to the Duchess of Clarence, but with secret instruc-
tions to induce Clarence to desert the party of Warwick,
and to rejoin that of Edward; and she so cleverly exe-
cuted the commission, that notwithstanding Clarence was
the son-in-law of Warwick, in consequence of having
married Isabel his daughter, Clarence promised that at
a convenient opportunity he would desert Warwick and
joi Edward. Warwick was completely ignorant of what
was arranged, and fully relied upon the co-operation of
Clarence.

Warwick and Clarence landed shortly afterwards in the
West of England, and proclaimed King Henry. Warwick's
power and popularity were so great, and such numbers
came in to him, that he had soon a large army under his
command; and King Edward was forced to fly and go
abroad, and try and obtain some aid from Charles, Duke
of Burgundy, who had married his sister. Warwick
entered London in October, 1470, delivered King Henry
out of the tower, and set him again upon the throne.

After Henry’s restoration, Warwick virtually ruled the
kingdom in Henry’s name, and was made Lord High
Admiral of England.

33

Phillippe de Commines having been sent to Calais, by
the Duke of Burgundy, to treat with Vauclerc, reports
that Warwick was so popular, that every one wore his
badge, no man esteeming himself in the fashion who
was not adorned with the ragged staff; nor was any
door frequented that had not his cross painted upon it ;
and that Vauclere himself wore in his hat a jewel, upon
which was a ragged staff, embroidered with gold.

The Earl of Warwick’s power, although then great, was
exceedingly transient; for in a very few months another
revolution occurred, as sudden as the last. Edward
returned, with some few forces and friends, from the
Continent, landed at Ravenspur, in Yorkshire, and
entered the city of York. He proceeded southward from
thence, his army greatly increasing on the way, and pre-
sented himself before Coventry, where Warwick was
strongly posted with his forces, awaiting the expected
arrival and junction of the troops under his brother, the
Marquis of Montague, and his son-in-law, the Duke of
Clarence. Warwick, under those circumstances, did not
then choose to engage in battle, and Edward marched on
towards London, which Warwick expected would hcld
out until he could arrive to its relief; and he accordingly
commenced his march in that direction. Disastrous
tidings, however, soon reached him. He soon received
the intelligence that Edward had been joyfully received
into London; that Clarence had deserted the Lancastrian
party, and had gone over, with all his army, and joined
Edward near the town of Warwick; and that Henry,
instead of being a King, was a prisoner.

Warwick was now in a situation of great danger; he
was too far advanced to retreat, with much chance of
success; was a considerable distance from any place of
safety; and was in the face of a superior army; and
although Clarence offered his mediation between Edward

5

34

and Warwick, the latter was too proud and spirited to
accept his intervention, but indignantly rejected it, and
prepared for battle. Warwick’s army was encamped at
a place then called Gladmore Heath, now enclosed, on
the north-westward side of Barnet, from which it is dis-
tant about a mile, and just beyond the small village of
Hadley, in the county of Middlesex, but very near the
borders of Hertfordshire. Edward had advanced with his
army from London to Barnet, and passing through it,
encamped and passed the night prior to the battle in the
open field, near the forces of Warwick.

On Easter Sunday, the 14th of April, 1471, the battle
of Barnet was fought between the rival armies, and ter-
minated in a complete victory obtained by the Yorkists
over the Lancastrians; in which the Earl of Warwick
the Marquis of Montague, many knights and gentlemen,
and a great number of common soldiers, were slain.
Phillippe de Commines informs us that Warwick never
used to fight on foot; but his practice was, when he had
led his men to the charge, then to take horse, and if
victory fell on his side, to fight amongst his soldiers, other-
wise to depart in time; but that at this battle, he was
induced by his brother, the Marquis of Montague, to alight
on foot, and send away his horse.

The bodies of Warwick and the Marquis of Montague
were conveyed in a cart to London, and exposed to view
in §t. Paul’s Cathedral Church for three days, in order
that no doubt might exist as to their deaths; they were
then buried in Bisham Abbey, in Berkshire, which had
been founded or endowed by an ancestor, one of the
Montagues: the Abbey was destroyed at the dissolution
of Monasteries; their tombs were broken, and all know-
ledge of the exact spots where their mortal remains
were interred, is now utterly forgotten.

So terminated the career of the great Earl of Warwick,

30

one of the most valiant and powerful noblemen that
England has ever produced, and one who has been cor-
rectly déscribed as the “the proud setter up and puller
down of Kings; the correctness of which observation
is evinced, by his having been mainly instrumental in
dethroning Henry VI., and making Edward IV. a King;
and again in dethroning Edward and restoring Henry.

“ Warwick (wounded ).—For who liv’d King, but I could dig his grave?

And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?

Lo, now my glory smear’d in dust and blood!

My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,

Even now forsake me; and of all my lands,

Is nothing left me but my body’s length.”
Shakespeare's Henry VI., Part 3, Act 5, Scene 2

(A Field of Battle near Barnet.)

The following paper was then read :—

ON SOME OF THE MINOR NATURAL HISTORY
EXCURSIONS MADE DURING THE
LAST MEETING OF THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION.
By T. C. ARCHER, Ese., V.P.,

PROFESSOR OF BoTANy, QUEEN’s COLLEGE.

Every naturalist is aware of the value of actual work
in the field, but it is not always easy to convince the fire-
side student that more may frequently be gained in a few
walks with accomplished masters of natural history, than
can be acquired by years of study assisted by books
alone. Indeed it is almost impossible to over-estimate |
the value of “field days” to the really ardent naturalist,
especially when these pleasant and healthful studies are
shared by agreeable companions.

(1) Shakespeare’s Henry VJ., Part 8, Act 3, Scene 3. It is remarkable, that in
the same Tragedy, in Act 2, Scene 3, Shakespeare conveys the same sentiment, but
in different words— Thou setter up and plucker down of Kings.”’

56

Believing that the utility of field operations is not fully
appreciated, I am induced to place before you a sketch
of three minor natural history expeditions, made during
the last meeting of the British Association in Dublin.
The first was under the direction of Dr. Allman, Professor
of Natural History in the University of Edinburgh, a
worthy successor to Professor Edward Forbes, both in
talent and that bonhommie which made the late Professor
as much beloved, as his extraordinary genius caused him
to be respected. We met in Sackville Street, at eleven
a.m., our object being to occupy the time until two p.m.,
by exploring the localities in which Dr. Allman had
discovered and studied the species of fresh-water polyzoa,
which he has so fully described in his masterly monc-
graph. Our party consisted of Dr. Allman and his
brother, Professor Redfern, the Rev. H. H. Higgins,
the Rev. H. Wood, F.G.S., Dr. J. B. Edwards, and
myself. We first directed our steps to the Dublin
canal. Here most of us were astonished at the green
colour of the water, differing altogether from the green-
ness which results from stagnation. It appeared to be
almost filled with green fusiform spicule, each freely
floating. Upon examination, these proved to be the
curious little fresh-water conferve, Aphanizomenon in-
curvum and A. flos-aquee, the Spkerozyga spiralis of some
authors, and Trichormus spiralis of Allman. For at least
half a mile, which we went along the banks of the canal
and around the docks and basins, we saw this little plant
in countless millions, generally free as before mentioned,
but occasionally aggregated into masses, apparently
where it had clung to the walls or projecting weeds.
These clusters had a bright apple-green colour, and
appeared smooth and compact, reminding us of the
curious Nostochine, but upon the slightest touch the frus-
tules were disunited, and floated away independently,

37

We drew water im our specimen bottles from various
parts of the canal, all of which contained the conferve.
In about an ounce of the water, otherwise beautifully
clear, I counted 150 separate plants. This would give
19,200 specimens of these conferve to each gallon of the
water contained in many miles of this canal.

One of the principal points to which Professor Allman
guided our steps was a bridge, under which the Frederi-
cella Sultana of Blumenbach and others, was very abun-
dant in the crevices of the masonry, about eighteen
inches below the surface. These crevices were beautifully
fringed with the aquatic moss Fontinalis antipyretica
(Linn), and patches of the emerald-green Spongillia,
amongst which the brown, unattractive moss-like bunches
of Fredericella were very abundant. This curious and
beautiful animal, now placed in close alliance with the
mollusca, consists of a ramifying brown tubular cenecium,
of a nature similar to that which contains the polyps in
Sertularia and other genera. It consists, however, of
two distinct membranes, the inner termed the endocyst,
the outer the extocyst. From the orifices terminating
the branches of these double tubes the beautiful polypide
is protruded or retracted at pleasure, and when expanded
is distinctly perceptible to the naked eye.

The remainder of the morning was consumed in an
unsuccessful search for the beautiful Cristatella, which
the same locality had previously yielded plentifully to
Dr. Allman’s researches. Near the bridge from which we
commenced our explorations, we saw what, if not interest-
ing in a natural history point of view, certainly offered
food for reflection; a large pile of tan or exhausted
tanner’s bark, protected from the weather by a temporary
covering, formed of some of the beautiful semicircular
girders of the roof of the Dublin Exhibition Palace—that
splendid roof which formerly spread its ample span over

38

the choicest productions of art, and over the most brilliant
throngs of Ireland’s beauties and her hospitably enter-
tained visiters—was here degraded to the base purpose
of protecting a dunghill. Our morning’s excursion had
lasted three hours, and I am satisfied that they were
neither idly nor uselessly spent. We had seen a phe-
nomenon of vegetation in the Aphanizomenon, most stu-
pendous in its details; one single species had met our
eyes in such inconceivable numbers, that it is not extra-
vagant to assume that the individuals in the space we
examined, far exceeded in number all the phenogamous
plants of the world! Besides which we had familiarised
ourselves with the ordinary aspects of Fredericella Sul-
tana, and seen its habitats, and thus acquired an interest
in it and all its beautiful congeners. This, in addition to
the pleasures of intellectual society, was no mean acquisi-
tion for three hours. If the rest of our lives had been
similarly spent, we should all have been wiser, if not
better men.

Having paid attention to ourselves—a duty incumbent
upon all field naturalists—and being thoroughly invigo-
rated we proceeded to the Kingstown and Dublin Railway
Station, and joined a large party, consisting of nearly
fifty, under the direction of Professor J. B. Jukes, the
director of the geological survey of Ireland. We pro-
ceeded by train to the station of Killiney, where we left
the carriages and examined the section formed by the
railway cutting, which makes a complete escarpment of
a considerable portion of the hill continuous with the face
of the cliffs. The railway, I should suppose, is fully
two hundred feet above the shore, and abundant examples
may be seen of protruded granite and granite veins, this
rock being here always in contact with lower Silurian
slates. The railway continues on to Bray, and passes
in its course through the bluff called Bray-head. The

39

tunnel is cut through the Cambrian Rocks, and appears
from the Hill of Killiney like a white spot on the side of
Bray-head, the light being distinctly seen at the farther
extremity. It is in this tunnel and the adjacent cuttings
that Professor Kinnahan, one of the most active and
indefatigable of the Dublin naturalists, has discovered in
great abundance the curious and interesting fossil Old-
hamias, the oldest of all created animals which have left
traces of their past existence, like an elegant vignette,
imprinted on the first leaf of that Great Book which has
existed from the beginning, and whose pages contain a
faithful record of the past, written by a hand which
cannot err—His who created all things.

From the railroad we descended to the beach, over
immense masses of granite, forming rocks of the grandest
appearance, on whose surface, wherever a small quanity
of soil was collected, were growing plants in bloom of the
beautiful Aster tripolium (L.), usually found in marshy
places near the sea-shore, but here growing in greater
luxuriance and beauty than ever we saw before. So also
the Statice limonium (L.), another salt marsh plant, was
growing with extraordinary luxuriance. Plantago coro-
nopus, (L.) grew in every crevice, and many of the pre-
cipitous faces of the cliffs glittered in a golden and
emerald mantle of samphire, (Crithmum maritimum, L.)
Asplenium maritimum produced its fronds luxuriantly in
the deeper crevices, whilst nearer the shore a carpet of
the pink Armeria maritima (Willd.), formed an agreeable
relief to our feet after scrambling over the sharp rocks.
Amongst the blocks of shingle on the shore we saw a
large quantity of water-worn fragments of Micaceous
Schist, in which crystals of Chiastolite of considerable
size and beauty were profusely imbedded. After
an interesting exploration of the beach, which would
have furnished ample materials for days instead of

40

minutes, we re-ascended to the railway, and continued
our ascent above it. One small field through which we
passed was pointed out to us by Professor Kinnahan and
Mr. Kelly as one of the very few localities in Ireland in
which the beautiful and sweet-scented little orchid
Neottia spiralis, (L.) is found; we procured an abundance
of good specimens very easily. Our progress was now
across stone fences, hedges, and other obstructions, until
we came to a saddle-back protrusion of granite, which
extended as a bare ridge about a yard high, and the same
width, through several small fields; and our excellent
director pointed it out in various other parts of the hill in
a diagonal line from our halting place. Continuing our
walk we soon found ourselves amongst enormous masses
of granite, scattered about in wild confusion over a com-
paratively flat space, which formed the summit of the
hill. The vegetation here was only the heather and
gorse, and such weeds as usually accompapy them in
stony moors. Our labour in reaching this spot was now
repaid -by one of the most beautiful views imaginable—a
valley of surpassing loveliness was spread at our feet,
the luxuriant crops of ripened grain glittering in the sun,
fully warranted the appellation of the Golden Valley, by
which name we were told it was known. The range of
mountains, beginning with the Head of Bray and the
peaks called the Golden Spears, bounded the valley on
the opposite side, and stretched far away through Wick-
low. To our right the green waves of the glorious Bay
of Dublin rolled upon the narrow band of sand and
shingle, which separated its waters from the luxuriant
meadows of the valley, giving rather the idea of a rich
garden watered by a quiet stream than a spread of sea
coast, usually so bleak and barren.

Many portions of the space on which we stood were en-
. tirely bare, the granite being almost polished by the action

41

of the wind and other causes; here we saw some most
instructive examples of injected granite in small veins
which came to the surface, filling up what had evidently
been fissures in the older rock; then, upon following
Professor Jukes down the side of the hill towards Bray,
past a large quarry, we came to a considerable depression
running obliquely towards the sea-shore, forming an
immense smooth groove. Here he pointed out to us the
unmistakable marks of glacial action; the sides were of
bare granite, polished and grooved deeply by the action
of the descending glacier, which had evidently moved
seaward down this ice-worn channel, for the Professor
also shewed us an excellent section of the dirt-bed which
it had projected over the cliffs on the shore—the section
being made by the railway cutting passing through it.
Re-ascending, we now directed our steps towards the
higher peak, called Observatory Hill, upon which is placed
a monument, and skirting along its side, passed through
the beautiful grounds and by the magnificent castellated
mansion of Mr. Warner, with his kind permission.* We
returned to the railway station to await the train which
was to convey us back to Dublin. On our way we saw
some very interesting examples of slate in contact with
granite, and procured good illustrative specimens. Dr.
Allman found a remarkably fine specimen of the Fels-
pathic mineral Spodumene embedded in granite.

This finished a day of great interest to all, and we re-
turned to our homes fully satisfied with the pleasures we
had enjoyed and the knowledge we had so agreeably
gained. The time occupied in the latter excursion was
six hours, from two to eight p.m.

Two days afterwards, a small excursion party was

* Let no one who has the opportunity of ascending from Kingstown to the
Obelisk lose it. The view is one of the grandest which can be obtained, and will
long be remembered. EpitTor.

6

42

again organized for an aquatic trip. It consisted of
Professors Allman, Redfern, and Kinnahan; the Rev. P. P.
Carpenter, of Warrington; Dr. Edwards, Mr. Hyndman,
Mr. Robert M‘Andrew, his son, and myself. To Mr.
M‘Andrew, our sincerely esteemed friend and late presi-
dent, we owed the pleasure of this excursion, which was
made in his beautiful commodious yacht, the “Naiad,”
furnished with all the apparatus necessary to the marine
zoologist, such as dredges, nets, &c. Besides providing
for our creature comforts in the most liberal manner,
our host gave us the full benefit of his great experience
in dredging matters, and treated us with a degree of
kindness, which I am sure I may say for all, will never
be forgotten. We had so slight a breeze that, whilst
busily engaged at breakfast, we glided out of the harbour
without being aware we had left the anchor. The wind,
however, freshened, and we soon lost sight of land. Our
course was for the Kish Bank, which we reached by noon,
and the dredge was lowered ; it grated along as a natura-
list loves to feel it, over a rough bottom, which proved to
be a bed of Escallops (Pecten maxima), great numbers of
which were brought up at each haul of the dredge. The
results of our operations will be shewn by my giving you
the names of the specimens we procured.

Of Mollusca we dredged :—

Saxicava arctica, Syndosmya alba,
Corbula nucleus, prismatica,
Thracia phaseolina, Donax anatinus,
Solen siliqua, Mactra stultorum,
pellucidus, elliptica,
Solecurtus candidus, Tapes virginea,
Psammobia Ferroensis, Venus striatula,
——— tellinella, —— fasciata ?
Tellina tenuis, Artemis lineta,

fabula, — exoleta,

Cardium echinatum,
——— fasciatum,
— Norvegicum,
Lucina borealis,
Montacuta ferruginosa,
Modiola modiolus,

Dentalium entalis,
Pileopsis Hungaricus,
Emarginula reticulata,
Trochus cinereus,
——— tumidus,
Rissoa striata,

—— barbata ? Turritella communis,
Nucula nucleus, Natica monilifera,
nitida, nitida,
Pecten varius, Purpura lapillus,
pusio, Nassa incrassata,
tigrinus, Buccinum undatum,
maximus, Fusus Islandicus,
—- opercularis, —— antiquus,
Ostrea edulis, — propinquus,
Anomia ephippium, Mangelia turricula,
— patelliformis, brachystoma ?
Chiton cinereus, Cyprea Europea,
asellus, Doris argo.
Of Annelida :

The curiously beautiful sea-mouse Aphrodita aculeata,
also Terebella conchilega, Sabella tubularia, and
Serpula contortuplicata.

Of the Crustacea, belonging to Decapoda Brachyura :

Three specimens of the long-legged spider crab—Steno-
rynchus phalangium.

Many specimens of Hyas coarctatus (Leach).

Five specimens of Kurynome aspera (Leach).

Two specimens of the cleanser swimming crab—Por-
tunus depurator (Leach).

Two of the livid swimming crab Portunus holsatus, and
many of the dwarf swimming crab—P. pusillus.

Of the common pea crab, Pinnotheres Pisum, we only
found one specimen.
Of the Anomourous Decapods, many Paguri were found—

d4

P. Bernhardus—the common hermit crab.

P. Cuanensis (Thompson.)

P. Hyndmanni (Jéid), named after our comrade, Mr.

Hyndmann.

P. Thompsoni.

Many were also found of the pretty minute porcelain crab

—Porcellana longicornis (Edw.); and Galathea—Gala-

thea Andrewsi (Kinnahan.)
Of the Macrourous Decapods, we found the channel-
tailed shrimp.

Crangon Almanni (Kinnahan), one specimen.

Ofthe genus Hyppolyte:

H. Varians (Leach), one specimen.

H. Thompsoni (Bell), one specimen.

H. Pusiola (Kroyer), two specimens.

This was the extent of our collection of crustaceans, and it
will be observed that, of this number, two were named
after two of our companions, and three others were species,
so recently made known to science, that our friend Pro-
fessor Kinnahan, also of the party, had named them.

Of Echinodermata, we obtained several species, and
many very fine specimens.

We procured several specimens of the common Egg
Sea Urchin—Echinus sphcera (Miil.), and the Purple-
spined Sea Urchin—K. Millaris (Leske).

Three dead specimens of the little Pea Sea Urchin—
Echinocyamus pusillus (Miill.).

Three fine specimens of the Purple-heart Sea Urchin—
Spatangus purpureus (Miill.).

Four of the Common-heart Sea Urchin—Amphidotus
cordatus (Penn). Of the Star-fish division we procured
two specimens of the common Sand-star—Ophiura tex-
turata (Lane), and numerous specimens of the following
species of Ophiocoma :—

O. neglecta (Forbes) Gray brittle star.

45

O. granulator (Link) Granulated brittle star.

O. Bellis (Do.) Daisy.

O. Rosula (Do.) Common.

Of the genus Uraster we procured—

U. rubens (Linn.) Common cross fish.

U. hispida (Fenn.) Little ditto.

We found large quantities of the very common alconium
constantly in the dredge;—A digitatum, called Dead
man’s fingers.

We did a little in Icthyology, for we enjoyed the sports
of the beautiful little Mackarel midge in a basin where
it darted about like a living crystal of berry], its brilliant
green back glittering in the sun. Some small specimens
of Cyclopterus lumpus, the lump sucker, were also taken ;
and Dr. Edwards, trying to while away certain trouble-
some qualms which affected some of the party, began
fishing, and caught a fine gurnard (Trigla). Numbers of
medusz floated by, and the water in our basins was
occasionally full of the lovely Cydippe.

Of the feathered tribe we saw many species, but our
attention was otherwise engaged and no notes were
made; but I was much struck with the extraordinary
number of sea-birds’ feathers we saw floating in patches
from time to time. At five o’clock p.m. we again reached
our anchorage, and bade farewell to our kind entertainer,
for whose kindness I cannot be sufficiently grateful. I
was an invalid during the whole day, and received from
him an amount of delicate attention in consequence, which
I shall never forget.

My object in the present paper has been to shew how
much of nature and natural history can be seen in an excur-
sion to the proper fields, and, by so doing, to stimulate
the members of this Society to a more united and energetic
action in gleaning the beauties of our own locality.

46

The Cuarrman referred to the glacial action in the
neighbourhood of Killiney Hills, which extended a con-
siderable distance into Wicklow. On visiting the Seven
Churches he had been surprised to find so many evidences
of glacial action. All persons who visited the district,
whether geologists or not, were struck with the immense
number of large boulder stones—blocks of granite lying
on the surface of the ground, though there was not a
single mountain near.

Mr. Arcuer thought it more probable that these blocks
had been deposited by drift ice or icebergs, than by.
glaciers. The effects to which he had referred were
distinctly those of glaciers.

This terminated the business of the ordinary meeting.

An EXTRAORDINARY MEETING was then held, to
_ consider the expediency of continuing the payment of ten
guineas a-year for official reports of the Society. It came
before the meeting as a recommendation from the Council.
Several members spoke in the highest terms of the
success of the experiment, and the manner in which the
reports had appeared, applauding both the medium of
publication, and those who were instrumental in producing
the reports. The motion was carried by sixteen to one,

47

THIRD ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Instirution, 16th November, 1857.
THOMAS INMAN, Esq, M.D., Presipent, in the Chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
JosepH Coorer, Esq., Alderman.
Jamis Exuiot, Esq., Professor of Mathematics,
Queen’s College.
Grecory Tymsas, Esq.
Senor Don MAnuet PAcHEco.

The Rey. H. H. Hicerns exhibited one of the rarest of
our Fungi, the Batarrea phalloides, found near Wallasey.

Isaac Byrruey, Esq., F.L.S., exhibited a Locust,
captured last summer at Liscard ; and a Cidaris papillosa,
dredged off the N.W. coast of Ireland.

The Rev. J. Ropperps, B.A., referred to Sir John
Herschel’s successful translations into hexameter and
pentaineter verses, recently published.

Professor Hamitton then read the first part of his
paper, which will be found recorded in the business cf
the next ordinary meeting.

An EXTRAORDINARY MEETING was then held, to
consider for the second time the motion adopted at the
last meeting; which resolution was unanimously con-
firmed. (See page 46.)

FOURTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Royau Instrrution, 30th November, 1857.

THOMAS INMAN, Esea., M.D., Presipent, in the Chair.

The following were elected Ordinary Members :—
Rosert Henry HALL, Esq.
Wit114m Henry Grimmer, Esq.
The Resignations of Messrs. George Holt, jun., H. V.
Rudd, and the Rev. P. Haines, Hoylake, were accepted.
Dr. RersuaG took exception to the title of his paper as
referred to in the last vol. of the Society’s “ Proceedings,”
taken from official documents; and to the brief report,
which, he thought, did not correctly signify the nature of
the communication.*
Professor T. C. ARcHER exhibited one of Messrs. Wessel
and Kukla’s patent gas stoves, the construction of which
is exceedingly simple, and its merits considerable.t +

* Dr. Retslag subsequently supplied the Secretary with a copy of his letter in
the Liverpool Albion, dated May 6th, 1857, from which it appeared that the correct
title of this paper was, “‘On the political philosophers of the 16th and 17th
centuries ;’’? and not, as reported, “On the political philosophy of the philoso-
phers of the 16th and 17th centuries.” The paper in question was a portion
of “an introduction to an essay’ upon that subject, in which the author seeks “ to
trace the gradual change in the public mind of Europe, and the effect of this change
upon arts, sciences, and politics, particularly since the beginning of the 14th century,
by preparation of the more materialistic views of modern times, in which nature and
things material are no longer regarded as opposed and hostile to Spirit and God,
but are his incarnation and one of his principal revelations.” The Society is not
responsible for, nor identified with, the individual sentiments of members which
appear in print.—EpiTor.

+ The Secretary has tested one of these little stoves by using it exclusively since
Christmas last in his study, a room 18 by 15 feet, and 12 feet high, containing 3240
cubic feet of air, and freely ventilated by chimney, window, and two doors, one
opening into the hall, and the other into a large passage leading to the gardeu. The
means have also been present, through a large aquarium, of keeping the apartment
from becoming unduly dry. During these months he has found no inconvenience
from the stove, and much to commend init. The atmosphere has never been un-
pleasant, has been comfortably heated by an expenditure of gas equal to three jets

49

He also exhibited a number of models of Tropical
fruits, presented to the Museum of Applied Science
by Mr. Dadabhoi Naoroji; and submitted two white
Annelides (gen. Borlaria), found in one of the graving
docks.

Mr. Atrrep Hiceinson exhibited a piece of charred
wood taken from the interior of the cover of a house
boiler. An interesting discussion arose out of this on the
chemical changes effected in vegetable materials by long
exposure to steam, and on spontaneous combustion.

Dr. InmAN opened a case of preserved milk, forwarded
by J. B. Lloyd, Esq., in whose possession it had been for
three years. The process of preservation was that after
the Abbé Moigno’s, but it had entirely failed, the contents
being decomposed.

The paper of the evening was then read.

ON THE COMPOSITION OF ROTATORY MOTION.

By GEORGE HAMILTON, F.R.A.S., F.C.S.,

PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY, QUEEN’S COLLEGE.

J. PRINCIPLE OF COMPOUND ROTATIONS.

Ir a body situated at A (Fig 1) on a plain surface
receives an impulse in the direction AB, sufficient to con-

(not burning always), and perfectly fit for respiration. In a single hour he has been
able to raise the temperature in January to 56° F., and he has generally sustained
it at that heat, though he has had it in that month as high as 67° in all parts of the
room. One of its greatest advantages has been the entire absence of trouble
attending its use, the power of regulating the temperature by turning off the gas at
pleasure, and of lighting it during thenight when the room might require to be heated.
The facility with which this gas stove can be fitted up will render it a most im-
portant furnishing to the bath-room, as well as to small chambers where fires cannot
be conveniently used: and it is not unworthy of remark, that by a simple con-
trivance it may be used for laboratory purposes, a flask of water being speedily
boiled over it, and evaporation as steadily conducted as may be desired. The
discussion which has taken place on the advantages and possible disadvantages of
Wessel and Kukla’s stove justify these remarks upon its merits. —EDITOR.

7

50

vey it to B in a certain unit of time, the body will move
over the line AB with a uniform velocity, and arrive at B
at the end of the given time. If it receives an impulse
in the direction of AC, of such an intensity as would
convey it to C in the same unit of time, at the end of the
time the body will be at C, having moved uniformly over
the line AC. If both forces, at the same instant, act on
the body at A, it will move uniformly over the line AD,
the diagonal of the parallelogram of which AB, AG, are
adjacent sides, and arrive at the point D at the end of the
given time.

Instead of considering A as a moveable body on a
plane, let it be a fixed point on the surface of a sphere,
the sphere being free to turn in any direction whatever.

The force applied at A (Fig. 2) in the direction of a
tangent to the arc AC, will cause the pomt A to move
uniformly through the arc AC. The force applied at A,
in the direction of a tangent to AB, will cause the point
A to move uniformly through the are AB. If both forces
be applied at the same instant, the point A will move
neither over AC nor AB, but over some are AD
intermediate between the two; and if the time be
indefinitely small, the are AD will be the diagonal of an
indefinitely small parallelogram constructed on the same
principle as that which applies to compound rectilinear
motions. .

Tn order to pass from the consideration of the motions
of a point on the surface of a sphere, to the consideration of
the axes on which the sphere would turn in obedience to
the impressed forces, let AB (Fig. 3) be the axis on which
a sphere revolves with a velocity represented by the
magnitude of the line AB, and let a force be applied to
turn the sphere about the axis AC with a velocity repre-
sented by the magnitude of AC; then it may be demon-
strated that the sphere will revolve about the axis AD,

Ol

which lies in the plane BAC, with a velocity represented
by the magnitude of AD, AD being the diagonal of the
parallelogram ABDC, of which AB and AC are adjacent
sides.

For this purpose assume any point on the surface of the
sphere, let the projection of this point on the plane BAC
be a, situated between AB and AC; then ab, perpendicular
to AB, is the projection of the are described by the
assumed point, in a given time, about the axis AB; and
similarly ac is the projection of the are described by the
same point, in the same time, about the axis AC, and if
the time be indefinitely small, the diagonal ad of the
parallelogram abde will represent the direction and mag-
nitude of the resulting motion, when both the component
forces are impressed at the same instant of time.

But since ab is perpendicular to AB, and ac to AC, the
angle bac is equal to BAC, and the sides about these
equal angles are proportional, for they are proportional to
the velocities, therefore the parallelogram ABDC is
similar to the parallelogram abde. It may be shewn that
ad is perpendicular to AD, therfore AD is the new axis.
Instead, therefore, of taking the parallelogram abde, which
refers to the motion of a point on the surface of a sphere,
we may take the parallelogram ABDC, which refers to
the axes on which the sphere turns. Thus it appears
that if the adjacent sides of a parallelogram represent
respectively the axes on which a sphere turns in obedience
to two given forces, and also represent the velocities
which the forces impart, the diagonal represents the
direction of the resultant axis, and its magnitude re-
presents the resultant velocity.

From the trigonometrical relations of the sides and
angles of the figure, it is easy to deduce the most im-
portant propositions of the doctrine of compound rotatory
motion. Thus :—

52

AC : CD = sin ADC: sin DAC

or AC: AB = sin BAD : sin DAC

OD Yew D: Lie sin BAD : sin DAC
because AB and AC represent the velocities v and v’.

Thus the component velocities are to each other reci-
procally as the parts into which the whole angle, between
the component axes, is divided by the new axis of
rotation.

Again AC: AD = sin ADC: sin ACD
= sin BAD: sin ABD
or o 3 eo = sin BAD : sin BAC.
Let ALBK (Figs. 4 and 5) be a sphere rotating about the
axis KL, in the direction HAFB, and let an impulse be
applied at A, in the direction AR, tending to make the
sphere rotate about the axis HF.

If the point at A, at the instant of impact, could be
carried to B in a time ¢nfinitely short, the impulse at A
would then be equivalent to two equal forces acting on
the lever AB at equal distances from the fulcrum C, and
in directions AR, BR’, parallel to each other, the line AB
therefore would remain at rest. But since the sphere
cannot rotate with a velocity infinitely great, AB (Fig. 4)
tends to assume the position ab immediately after impact,
and the point A begins to move in the diagonal of an in-
definitely small parallelogram (Fig. 5), in which

Ad : Aa = velocity about KL : velocity about HF.
The axis AB, therefore (Fig. 4), has not remained at rest,
but has moved through an indefinitely small angle, ACa.
The maximum effect of disturbance on the line AB is
produced when the particle struck is at A, acting in
the direction AR. When the particle which receives
the impulse at A arrives at F by the rotation of the
sphere, it tends to move in the direction FR’ parallel to
AR; here it has no effect on the position of the axis AB,
but it tends to turn the whole sphere about that axis in

53

the direction of the arrow M. The moment of this force
has its minimum effect when acting at F in the direction
FR’. At any other point, d or d’, the force is as gd’ or g’d’,
that is as the sine of Ad or Bd’, the polar distance of the
point.

When the particle which receives the impulse at A
arrives at B, it tends to move in the direction BR” parallel
to AR, and therefore tends to restore the axis, from its
position ab, to its previous position AB.

Now if the particle when at F, tending to move in the
direction FR’ by the impulse received at A, could move to
H through the semicircle FBH in a time infinitely short,
it would be equivalent to two equal forces at F and H,
at equal distances from the fulcrum C of the lever FH,
acting in lines FR’, HR”, parallel to each other, and FH
would therefore remain at rest, that is, the sphere would
not rotate about the axis AB in the direction of the arrow
M. But the particle cannot be conveyed from F to H in
a time infinitely short; therefore the particle, in moving
through the whole arc AFB, tends to make the sphere
rotate about the axis AB in the direction of the arrow M.

Again, the impulse applied at A, in the direction AR,
causes B to move in the direction BQ; when the particle
at Bis carried by the rotation of the sphere to H, it
tends to move in the direction HQ’, and therefore tends
to turn the sphere about the axis AB in the direction of
the arrow M’, the whole sphere will therefore revolve
about the axis AB in the direction of the arrows MM’.

Now, if instead of a single impulse acting at A, there is
a constant force acting in a fixed direction AR, the rota-
tion of the sphere about AB will continue until the axis
CL is brought to comcide with CH, the sphere will then
revolve about one axis HF. The force at A acting in the
direction AR, which produced its minimum effect on the
line of particles AB, when the sphere revolved about the

o4

axis KL, will now produce its maximum effect upon the
same line of particles when the sphere revolves about
the axis HF, and the sphere will revolve with an accele-
rating velocity.

From this reasoning it seems to follow, that if any
sphere ADBC, Fig. 6, revolving about an axis AB, with a
velocity however great, is acted on by a constant force, how-
ever small, tending to make it revolve about the axis CD,
the sphere will revolve about a third axis perpendicular
to both AB and CD, until AB is brought to coincide with
CD.

If the force at A (Fig. 4), instead of acting in a fixed
direction in space AR, acts always in a line at right
angles to the plane of the lamina AFBH, the sphere will
continue revolving about the axis AB in the direction of
the arrows MM’. The oscillatory motion of the axis AB,
compounded with this rotation, will cause the pole to de-
scribe an undulating line about the circumference of a
small circle, whose diameter will depend on the intensity
of the disturbing force applied at A.

Il. APPLICATION OF THE PRINCIPLE TO PLANETARY MOTIONS.

Let S (Fig. 7) be the sun, and AMBM’ the earth. Let
the whole sphere AMBM’ be divided into laminz AB, &c.,
whose planes are parallel to each other, and at right
angles to SC. Ifthe whole of the matter of each lamina
be collected into its centre of gravity, the equilibrium of
the system will remain unchanged; the sphere will thus
become a line of material particles M’ M, whose centre is C.

Now, because the particle at M’ is nearer to S. it will
be more strongly attracted than an equal particle at M.
The same may be said of every pair of particles equi-
distant from C, hence the centre of gravity G, of the
whole line M’M, will always be nearer than its centre C
to the sun §.

AR
ov

The point C is the centre of gravity of the line MM
when the attraction of the sun is disregarded; but G is
the centre of gravity of the same line M’M when the
‘attraction of the sun is considered.

Let the extremity M of the line M’M receive an impulse
in the direction MN, at right angles to SM. In obedience
to this impulse M will begin to move about the centre of
gravity G. Let the point M move through an indefinitely
small are Mm. Then Gm is not greater than GM. But
SG, Gm, are together greater than Sm; therefore SM is
greater than Sm; therefore the particle at M has ap-
proached S in moving from M to m.

But if the line M’M move in an orbit about the centre
S, the centrifugal force generated by the orbitual motion
acting on the particle at M, will tend to make it move in
the arc MN, and therefore resist the approach of the par-
ticle to 8, and therefore resist the motion of the line M’M
about the centre of gravity G. The same may be said
of every particle between G and M; but the centre of |
gravity C of the whole line M’M always lies between G
and M; therefore the orbitual motion of the line M’M
about the centre S, resists the rotatory motion of the same
line MM about the centre of gravity G. But the line MM
is made up of the centres of gravity of the laminz which
compose the whole sphere; hence the rotation of the
sphere about the centre of gravity G is resisted by the
orbitual motion of the sphere about the centre 8.

If it be objected that M’M will not move about the
centre G, but about the centre C, then let the circle
GKL (Fig. 8), be the locus of the point G; and because CM
is equal to Cm, therefore SM is equal to SC, Cm. But SC,
Cm are greater than Sm: the rest of the argument fol-
lows as before.

If a sphere (Fig. 9), having no independent axial rota-
tion, moves in an orbit about a centre of attraction §,

56

having the same side CBD always turned towards §, it
is obvious that it turns once round an axis CD in going
once round its orbit, and that CD is perpendicular to the
plane of its orbit. But if the sphere also rotates on an.
axis AB inclined to the plane of the orbit, whilst any
force, however small, tends to make it rotate about the
axis CD, then AB will gradually approximate to CD, and
finally coincide with it.

IIl. PROGRESSIVE CHANGE IN THE FORM OF THE EARTH.

If a spheroid of equilibrium, NQSE (Fig. 10), contract
uniformly in lines perpendicular to its surface, a new
spheroid, N’Q’S’H’, is produced of a greater degree of
excentricity. For if CQ be the semi-transverse, and CN
the semi-conjugate axis of the elliptical section NQSE of
the spheroid, and if from these there be taken the equals
NN’ and QQ’, the remainder CQ’ has to the remainder
CN’ a greater ratio than CQ to CN, therefore the
excentricity of the spheroid is increased.

But if the spheroid, rotating on an axis, contract in
size, its velocity of rotation will be increased: this in-
crease of velocity would tend to increase its excentricity.
Now, it is barely possible that the increased excentricity
due to the contraction, should be precisely the same as
the increase of excentricity due to the increased speed of
rotation; in that case the spheroid would still be one of
equilibrium, notwithstanding the alteration of its form.

But if the increase of excentricity arising from contrac-
tion, is greater than that arising from the increased
speed, the effect will be an accumulation of matter in the
equatorial region, an increase of pressure on the internal
mass, and a tendency to subsidence into the northern and
southern hemispheres. A change of form is then neces-
sary to restore equilibrium. This may not take place
uniformly per gradum ; for if there be a resistance from a

a7

rigid external crust, the force must accumulate until it
exceeds the resistance, and thus frequent adjustments,
per saltem, may ensue. It is probable, therefore, that the
earth’s form is undergoing a slow progressive change ;
and if so, it must be taken into account by those who
venture to speculate on the causes of earthquakes, vol-
canic eruptions, and the upheaval of mountains.

TV. DESCRIPTION OF THE GYROSCOPE.

1. When the disc is in rapid motion it resists any force
which tends to alter its plane of rotation, because the
point at which the force is applied is conveyed to the
point diametrically opposite, before it has time to move in
any perceptible degree in the direction of the impressed
force.

2. When a force is applied to turn the disc about a
vertical axis, whilst it is turning on a horizontal axis, the
plane of rotation is changed. Assume a point in the
upper edge of the disc. It tends to move in the direction
of a tangent, and when the disc is moved about a vertical
axis, the point assumed still tends, by its inertia, to con-
tinue its motion in the same direction as before, that is,
now obliquely to the disc, and therefore tending to alter
its plane of rotation.

3. When a weight is suspended to the extremity of
the horizontal axis on which the disc turns, the plane of
the dise is not sensibly drawn’ out of the perpendicular,
but a motion is produced about the vertical axis. Assume
a point in the upper edge of the disc. Place a thread on
it by means of a piece of sealing wax, leaving the two
ends free from the point of attachment. Pull one thread
in the direction of the tangent, thus producing a rotation
of the disc: pull the other at right angles to the plane of
the disc, thus producing the same effect as the weight.
This foree cannot perceptibly alter the plane of rotation,

8

58

(1) the only effect it can produce is a horizontal motion
about the vertical axis.
4, When one end of the axis of the revolving disc is
supported by a string, and the other end left without a
support, the dise does not fall, but revolves horizontally
round the string as a centre. The action of gravity tends
to turn the dise round a horizontal axis, and we have seen
(1) that the rotating disc resists all forces which tend to
alter its plane of rotation. When the speed is sufficiently
great it resists the force of gravity, therefore it cannot
fall; but it moves horizontally round the string, because
the action of gravity tends to turn the disc round a
horizontal axis, as in Exp. 3, and its motion in a horizontal
direction round the string is owing to the same cause.

5. When the disc is inclined to one side, a motion fre-
quently ensues round a vertical axis. This is caused by
the friction of the pivots on the outer rmg. When the
axis of the disc is perfectly horizontal, the friction has no
tendency to produce this motion. When the motion com-
mences, the inclination of the disc continually increases,
because the rotation of the disc tends to carry any point
of the circumference in the direction of a tangent, and the
motion round a vertical axis turns the plane of the disc out
of that direction, the inertia of the point assumed acts as
described in (2). This increases the inclination, the
friction now acts at a greater advantage, thus the motion.
about the vertical axis is accelerated, which again in-
creases the inclination of the disc, bringing it still nearer
the horizontal position. At length this position is attained,
and now the whole force of friction is employed in pro-
ducing a motion round the vertical axis.

6. When the gyroscope is fastened by a screw or clamp
in such a manner as to keep the rotating disc always
vertical, and placed in the centre of a turning table, it
maintains its plane of rotation unchanged, notwithstanding

oo

the motion of the table. When placed near the edge of
the table, so as to be conveyed through the circumference
of a circle, the plane of the disc is always parallel to its
first position, for the reason stated in (1). If it were
placed in the centre of a circle at the pole of the earth,
the plane of the dise would appear to move round a
vertical axis in twenty-four hours. This property of
maintaining the plane of rotation unchanged has been
proposed as a means of proving experimentally the rotation
of the earth on its axis. If the instrument be placed at
any point between the pole and the equator, the time of
an apparent revolution round a vertical axis will be more
than twenty-four hours, and the time is greater the nearer
it approaches to the equator. When at the equator it will
not move round the vertical axis at all.

In order to explain this satisfactorily, it is necessary to
state what is meant by saying that the revolving disc
maintains its plane of rotation unchanged. The plane of
rotation is not absolutely unchangeable, since it always
coincides with a great circle of the earth (when clamped
as described) passing through the station, and therefore
it partakes of the diurnal motion of the earth, except when
situated at one of the poles.

Let A (Fig.11) be the station, and let it be carried through
the small are AB by the diurnal motion of the earth, the
plane of rotation of the disc at the point B, is not BY, which
is a small circle, but BDV, a great circle intersecting the
great circle APV in two points VV’, diametrically apposite.

Since APV = 90°, and AP is the distance of A from the
pole P, therefore PV = latitude of A. And when the are
AB is very small, BDV = APV = 90°. Hence, in the
spherical triangle VPB, (Fig. 4.)

Sin VPB : sin PBV = sin VB: sin VP.
or Sing : sin @ = R: sin lat.
or Arcab: arecd = 1 : sin lat.

60

Now, aé is the are of a circle which the plane of rota-
tion of the disc would appear to describe if placed
at the pole, and cd is the arc which it would appear to
describe in the same time in the latitude AB; and since
the ares are to each other inversely as the times of de-
scription of the whole circumference, it follows that
the time of describing the whole circumference in
latitude A : time of describing the whole circumference at P
Siwb ie a:
= 1: sin lat. A.
rae cs apres Time at P is 24 hours

sin lat. sin lat.

24 hours
O

As I am by no means certain of the correctness of
some of the conclusions at which I have arrived, I submit
them to the Society with considerable diffidence and dis-
trust, as subjects for discussion’ rather than as demon-
strated truths. They seem to me, at present, to follow
legitimately from the doctrine of compound rotatory
motion. If there is any error in my reasoning, I am not
able to discover it; and I shall feel greatly obliged to
any one who will indicate where it is, as I shall thus be
enabled to approach nearer the truth than the point
at which I have arrived by my own independent inves-
tigations.

and Time at. Equator = =Infinity. .

Professor Elliot thanked Professor Hamilton for the
more than ample justice he had dealt out to him in
noticing his instruments. He begged leave to make some
additional statements regarding his own researches
on the subject, as well as those of others. Professor
Hamilton had correctly described his (Professor Elliot’s)
instruments for illustrating, both in regard to fact and
principle, the precession of the equinoxes, the nutation of

a
y en
- |

61

the earth’s axis, the retrogradation of the moon’s nodes,
the equilibrium of Saturn’s rings, and the peculiar effect of
a magnet upon an iron disc in rotation. He had been led
to the construction of the first of these instruments so long
ago as 1835, from the difficulty he experienced while teach-
ing astronomy, in explaining the subject of precession by
mere verbal description. He conceived that the motions
of the common spinning-top might be converted into an
exact imitation of those of the earth, by altering the posi-
tion of the centre of gravity in reference to the point of
support. In the conception of such an instrument, he
was not aware at the time that he had been anticipated
by others; but he now found that the records of the
Royal Astronomical Society contained a short and ob-
scure notice of a similar instrument, which had previously
been constructed by Mr. Atkinson. M. Bohnenberger’s
gyroscope had also been previously known on the Con-
tinent, and partially in this country, which, among other
purposes, exhibited correctly the precession of the equi-
noxes; and Mr. Higginson, now present, had, it ap-
peared, constructed an twstrument of the same kind.
The effect of a magnet on a rotating iron disc had been
shewn to him (Professor Elliot) by a friend, but almost
accidentally, and without reference to its theory or astro-
mical application. Its use for that purpose was to ex-
hibit the effect of one planet in disturbing the plane of
another planet’s orbit, in eight different positions of the
disturbing body (as described in Newton’s Principia), in
producing a forward or a backward movement of the
nodes, or an increase or diminution of the obliquity
of the plane of its orbit to the ecliptic. Professor Elliot
stated that, although his experiment with the iron ring
and magnet was admitted to be an exact imitation of
the peculiar motion of Saturn’s rings, yet the coinci-
dence of the two in regard to principle had been disputed

62

by some of our best mathematicians. The objection
advanced to it by Professor Thomson, of Glasgow, that
the one was, to a certain extent, a constrained, and the
other a perfectly free motion, was certainly a valid objec-
tion; but there were some difficulties attending the sub-
ject which required to be removed by further experiment.
He (Professor Elliot) had shown the greater part of these
experiments to the Liverpool Polytechnic Society in the
year 1839. Since that time the subject of rotatory
motion had become a fashionable study among mathema-
ticians, having been taken up successively by Professors
Magnus, Wheatsone, Powell, Foucault, Smyth, and
Maxwell. Foucault’s experiment for shewing the sta-
bility (perfect or partial) of a rotating disc during the
earth’s rotation was not new in theory, as it had been
described more than twenty years before by Mr. Sang;
nor was it in his (Professor Elliot’s) opinion practically
successful in shewing the earth’s rotation, since its suc-
cess depended altogether upon the adjustment of the
apparatus, and the only mode, he believed, of making
that very delicate adjustment, was by trying if it pro-
duced the very motion it was intended to demonstrate.
It could be made to shew the rotation of the earth, or
not to shew it, just as it was balanced. Professor
Smyth’s apparatus he had previously described. Pro-
fessor Maxwell, of Aberdeen, was the last who had pro-
duced any thing new on the subject of rotatory motion,
and in a set of beautiful experiments, and some refined
calculations, he had advanced further into the subject
than any of his predecessors. Professor Maxwell’s prin-
cipal object was to throw light on the theory of Saturn’s
ring. In his essay, for which he lately had the high honour
of gaining the Adams’ Prize offered by St. John’s College,
Cambridge for the best dissertation on that subject,
Professor Maxwell objected to the applicability of his

va.

63

(Professor Elliot’s) experiment on the iron ring to that of
Saturn, but agreed with him in maintaining that Laplace’s
hypothesis of a load on the ring was untenable. Pro-
fessor Elliot briefly described two other experiments
which he had himself made in regard to rotation. One
of these consisted in magnetizing the axis of a light
rotating disc, carefully depriving the dise of all pre-
cessional movement, inclining its axis a little from the
vertical line, placing over its centre an electro-magnet,
and then giving to the disc a rapid rotation on its axis.
The axis remained at rest in its oblique position till an
electric current was passed along the wire of the electro-
magnet; as soon as that was done the axis ot the disc
began to revolve round the magnet. When the current
was transmitted in the opposite direction, the direction
of revolution immediately changed, producing a singu-
larly close resemblance to that mysterious phenomenon,
electro-magnetic rotation. The other experiment con-
sisted in taking a very large cylindrical vessel of water,
making a small orifice in the centre of the base, with a
straight brass pipe extending a few inches downward,
the outer end of the pipe being closed with a plug, and
the inner end being made perfectly smooth. The vessel
was filled with water, and as soon as that had attained
perfect repose the plug was withdrawn. This being
done, as the level of the water sank, it gradually ac-
quired a rotatory movement, at first very slow, but be-
coming more rapid as the evacuation proceeded, and
always in the direction of the earth’s rotation, provided
that perfect stillness of the fluid had been secured. The
rationale of the process was this: That the vessel of
water participated in the earth’s diurnal rotation; its own
motions consisting of a revolution round the earth’s axis
and a slow rotation on its own axis, that the portions
near the circumference had a more rapid motion in rota-

64

tion than those near the centre. In approaching the
centre they retained their actual velocity, and conse-
quently increased in angular velocity, and, in escaping at
the central orifice, produced a vortex in the direction of
the earth’s rotation, affording another experimental proof
that such rotation existed.

FIFTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Institution, 14th December, 1857.
The Rev. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., V.P., in the Chair.

Rozert Toruam STEexe, Esq. was elected an Ordinary
Member.

The resignation of Mr. C. Millward was accepted.

The death of Mr. 8. T. Winstanley was communicated.

Mr. A. Hiaainson submitted portions of the skeleton
of a shark, and explained its anatomy.

Mr. T. C. Ancuer exhibited a series of English lichens,
prepared by Dr. W. L. Lindsay, together with fabrics
dyed by them.

Mr. WarreneaD exhibited portions of the wooden keel
of a vessel extensively destroyed by the teredo navalis,
also specimens of the worm.

The paper of the evening was then read “ON THE
SMELTING AND AssAyine oF Try Orgs, &c.,” by NewrTon
SAMUELSON, Esq., F.C.S.

SIXTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Royat Institution, 11th J anuary, 1858.
The Rev. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., V.P., in the Chair.

CHARLES Borreritu, Esq., was elected an Ordinary
Member.

A paper was read “On THE PRESERVATION oF FRESH
Mears, &c., IN Meratiic Caszs,” by CuristorpHer BELL,
Esq.

The author entered into the details of the various pro-
cesses in use, the particulars of which he had ascer-
tained, and illustrated the same by specimens of home
and foreign product. In presence of the members, many
cases were opened, some of which had been sealed
for ten and fourteen years. Mr. Goldner’s stood this
severe test, as well as those prepared by the Messrs.
McCall and Co., his successors in the business. Not
one of the canisters opened was unsound, but the home
was better than the foreign. The process of preserva-
tion was the coagulation of the albumen and expulsion
of oxygen, effected by simple means effectually applied.

The following paper was then read :—

NOTES ON SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL, STATIONS
FOR BOTANIZING
IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LIVERPOOL.

By Tue Rev. H. 8H. HIGGINS, M.A., Sen. V.P.

THE vicinity of Liverpool has for many years been
diligently examined by botanists in search of phanero-
gamic plants, and their labours have been rewarded by
the discovery of a series probably as extensive as any
collected in Britain within a district of similar extent,

9

66

The following Table, shewing the number of species of
flowering plants in some of the local Floras of Britain, is
extracted from “ Remarks on the Geographical Distribu-
tion of British Plants,” by Hewett Cottrell Watson.

MARITIME. No. INLAND. No.
Devabii, dhs hb. ie: 774 Tunbridge. .. 55 .-.ee fh 717
MAPMNOUGIN. «ck sgensserus a2 Orfeo ita \e sep eee 127
PROPIGHCE 52. cecsanscness 764. COUGEG ce anc arse fie Ws
HS CTA aps Late aos oan aie 707 Cambrid@e. occa. sores 847
Fidia pwr oho eccc.sseses 774 Pegi tener scree. <icereaen 632
IAS ROW! cancers sue nsnne 629 Titties: ns. Meee 604

Moaaar .9il3.35.85 728 Meany. wes shioeey an 707

This Table was published in 1835, at which time the
author considered 1400 species to be the extreme limit of
the British Flora. Some of the Floras were issued at a
much earlier date, as that of Bedford, by Dr. Abbot, in
1798. The “Flora Edinensis,” published in 1834, con-
tains 750 species.

The following Floras are more recent:

Vorkshige. oid. :ftcicoges ret D0Gu cons Gabe Give cm. nad 1854
Shropshire hs. Ancyaes. ash! 893 ib oco afd Gacdd-es 1841
Osfordeahirdyis.c. .scaceccalleas ¢ B60... ait ee arash eee
Mamehaesterl fais ocd. savage Ube actos. ae ee 1849
Laverpool}..: 2.1 weber j B35 a iase se tert ee 1851-5

My attention has been chiefly given to the Crypto-
gamia, but in the course of various excursions in the
vicinity of Liverpool during four seasons, I have met
with more than 600 species of flowering plants.

That so many plants are found in a district somewhat
unpromising in its first appearance, may be accounted
for by the fact that, within a circuit of ten or twelve
miles round Liverpool, a botanist may make at least five
or six excursions to localities each one differing widely
from the rest in its floral character.

Woods and Woodlands.—First in order we may notice

67

the woodlands of the Wirral, amongst which Gilbrook
once stood pre-eminent, but its timbered honours are
now reduced to a few thinly scattered trees. Noble
banks of wood, however, remain at Bromborough and
Eastham, rich in Labdiate. The borders of the stream
from Patrick Wood upwards afford Museé and Hepatice
rarely to be obtained elsewhere ; and the winding valley
is sheltered all the way by steep and lofty banks,
where may be found sunny nooks in which Spring
wakes the flowers and the birds weeks before Winter has
ceased to reign on the northern shores of the Mersey.
Turning westward, large plantations of fir crown the
Stourton promontory, quite to its extremity at Bidston.
Boleti abound in these, and near Flaybrick the plantations
afford many interesting species of Cladonia.

Very similar to these, botanically, are the fir planta-
tions skirting Simon’s Wood, Rainford, Windle, Sutton,
and Bold Mosses. In the latter only I have seen in
profusion the lovely cyclamen-shaped flowers of the
Cranberry.

The woodland walks in the Lancashire portion of our
district are very unlike those on the opposite side of the
river; the surface of the ground is flat, and even in
summer there is a formal cheerless character about the
woods. This is especially the case at Ince Blundell,
where the woods are enclosed by large moats, in which
lie buried the leaves of many seasons. Fine avenues of
beech do indeed redeem the character of the place for
beauty, and though few flowers of much botanical
interest are to be found, the remark of Fries on the
peculiar productiveness of beech woods in Agarics, may
be verified there any time in Autumn.

The wood called the “Old Roughs” at Kirby, Acorn-
field Wood, and the woods at Croxteth, are all admirable
localities for Fungi. Broad-leaved Heleborine and Ramsons

68

flourish at Croxteth, but Wood Crowfoot has become
very scarce. Hale and Speke woods are celebrated in
the Flora as containing several botanical rarities, and
though some of them have been lately sought for in
vain, I do not therefore doubt that a further search
might be successful.

It is no slight amount of investigation that is required
to ascertain all the species, even of flowering plants,
that belong to any given locality ; much more when the
cryptogamia are included. In confirmation of this, I
may mention a little unlikely-looking wood, called
Hangsdale’s Wood, at Rainhill. This wood being near
my house, can be examined by me much oftener than
distant localities: it has produced a surprising list of
Fungi, and of flowering plants, Woodruff, Cow-wheat,
Sanicle, and Saw-wort, besides some good carices and
grasses.

The remarks which I made upon the formal and unin-
teresting character of our neighbouring woods, do not
apply to Knowsley Park, where there is some fine forest
scenery. <A large portion of the domain is left as much
as possible in its natural condition: in some spots the
oaks are of great age and size; and when the mellow
tints of autumn are reflected from the Bracken, and
gleams of the retiring sun fall upon the grey and knotted
trunks of the venerable trees, under which are browsing
herds of red and fallow deer, the scene is one for any
lover of nature to rejoice in, but for a Gilpin only to
describe. The species of flowering plants in the park
are not very numerous; but it is the only locality that I
know of for Various-leaved Pond-weed and the Lesser Skullcap.

Before leaving this part of the subject, I may notice a
remarkable contrast between the woods of the Wirral
and those on this side of the Mersey, in respect of
Lichens, and Mosses that grow upon trees. In Cheshire,

69

almost every plantation contains trees which may be
examined with success; in mosses for Orthotricum, Hyp-
num, Omalia, &c.; in lichens for Opegrapha, Caliciwm, &c. :
even single trees by the road side are worth attention,
but on this side I do not know a single locality where
there are trees producing any but the most ordinary
species.

Lanes.—F rom the woods we pass on to notice a few of
the more interesting lanes belonging to the district,
which, although they cannot be said to have distinct
botanical features of their own, but partake of those
which are common to the country through which they
pass, are yet so pleasant and so useful, that it is probable
few botanists have rambled much without haying their
often frequented and favourite lanes. .

A short but promising lane leads from a point near
Woolfall Heath to the Little Wood, Croxteth. In early
spring the banks of this Jane are covered with the
Cuckow-pint, fruiting finely, the spadix varying from
lemon colour to the deepest crimson.

An admirable lane leads from Formby Station to the
Church on the sands, where it turns to the left. Hypnum
purum and Climacium dendroides are found here in fruit.

A lane leads from the toll-bar on the hill upon the
road to Upton, and passing Noctorum sharply descends
the hill, eventually joining the Woodchurch road. The
whole of this lane is excellent ; where it crosses Oxton
Heath, Marsh Gentian and the dotted-fruiied Carex are
found ; as it approaches the valley there are walls which
seem very ancient, and are covered with Pennywort,
whilst the banks a little further on afford the Black-
stalked Spleenwort in profusion.

A great number of other lanes are connected with
pleasant botanical associations, but I will mention only
one, which leads from Halewood, by the Old Hut, to

70

Heath-farm. This lane, with the adjacent thicket, affords
good botanizing in spring, summer, or autumn; and
should the plants disappoint the rambler, he will find the
picturesque Old Hut, an ancient forester’s tower and
dwelling, with quaintly timbered walls and broad over-
hanging eaves, well worth a visit.

Peat Mosses—These Mosses occupy a large tract of
country to the north of Liverpool, extending from the
flats on the west of Kirkby far to the north-east, and,
mixed with patches of cultivated ground, reaching to
Upholland, or even almost to Wigan. The principal of
them are known by the names of Simon’s-wood Moss,
Rainford Moss, Windle Moss, &c.

The beacon hill at Billinge stands as a bold headland,
jutting out into this vast plain; similarly the Bidston
hill overlooks, and in fact divides, the Leasowe level.

A tract of undulating or broken ground, part of which
is the St. Helens coal field, separates the Mosses we have
named from the Sutton and Bold Mosses; and these
again have a similar boundary at Newton, intervening
between them and the very extensive moss district, a
part of which is known as Chat Moss.

I do not mention all these as belonging to our district,
but merely to point out how very extensive is the chain
of turf-bogs to which our Liverpool mosses belong.

The plants most characteristic of the pure peat moss
in this neighbourhood seem to be the Andromeda, Crow-
berry, Sweet Gale, and the Red-necked Fork-moss.

Heaths.—The term Heaih is often used synonymously
with Peat-moss. It may, however, perhaps more properly
indicate a peaty soil in a more exposed and elevated
position, such as we have on the Bidston, Grange, and
Heswall hills, where the rock generally approaches the
surface. The very pretty white and pink English Stone-
crop abounds on the heaths near the Dee.

71

Bidston heath is by far our best locality for Lichens
and Jungermannie; in fact, every part of the hill
deserves and will repay a careful examination ; and when
the botanist is wearied with his labour, he may delight
himself with the prospect before him: a prospect which,
it has often pleased me to notice, numbers of our Liver-
pool operatives seem thoroughly to appreciate.

Flats and Marshes.—From the neighbourhood of Orms-
lark to Formby extends a level district, part of which is
peaty, but more generally the soil is much mixed with
sand. Nearly all the tract is cultivated, and the land is
almost on a level with the water in the ditches by which
it is intersected. The Leasowe level has many features
in correspondence with this district, but it has much more
recently been overflowed by the sea.

The plants upon these flats are very numerous. The
Buckbean, Water-violet, Frog-bit, Greater Spear-wort,
Meadow-rue, and the little marsh Pimpernel, all of which
are found upon the northern flats, especially near Down-
Holland, are amongst the preitiest of our British wild
flowers. The plants upon the Leasowe level are less
conspicuous, but not less curious. Upon Bidston marsh,
however, grows in abundance the flowering rush, equal
in beauty to any. This marsh, which has been one of
our richest botanizing grounds, is fast disappearing.

Salt-marshes.—We have three distinct localities which
may be noticed under this head: a mile or two of the
shore of the Mersey, near Ditton; the entrance to
Broniborough Pool; and the entrance to Wallasey Pool
from Seacombe upwards. These places have a Flora of
their own, entirely distinct from that of the surrounding
neighbourhood. The Chenopodiacee, that most puzzling
tribe, abound, and a host of plants of many genera, re-
joicing in the trivial name of maritima. The spreading
Sea Lavender grows pleuntifully on the side of Wallasey

72

Pool up to and above Poolton bridge ; this plant thrives
in gardens, and is well worth transplantation. Ruppia
grows in the salt pools in the same locality, and a large
plot of ground near the Seacombe slip, apparently in-
tended for a dock, is covered by a most curious vegetation,
including the jointed Glass-wort.

The Sand-hills—It would be vain to attempt a notice
of the multitude of interesting plants found upon the
Sand-hills from the Dee to Southport, except in a paper
especially devoted to the subject. These wild mounds
have many features entirely their own: we gain a sandy
peak, and what a wide-spread scene of busy life is before
us. Look at the opposite shore, where the houses rise
tier above tier, like the heads of a crowd at a spectacle—
all are jealous to have a fair view of the rippling waves,
and their own full share of the sweet sea breeze, and
with good reason too; time there is often short and
precious; many a father of a family finds in those
dwellings a fortnight’s solace after fifty weeks of toil.
We may imagine he is looking with a telescope through
that open window, whilst the mother is watching how
the sea air restores the colour to some faded cheek; the
little ones are away, we may see them just below, like
dots at the edge of the waves, digging the sand with
their tiny spades.

Those glorious ships, how proudly they enter port, and
how hopefully they depart: and what a fleet of steamers,
some so nigh we may hear the roar of their paddle-
wheels; others far away, hidden by the waves, but we
know where they are by their long dusky streamers ;
more than all we have before us the sea itself, the
world’s sea, that washes the shores of every land. How
great and grand and good is. the earth where God has
placed man. But listen! there is music too, sweet music,
high over head: if sound there be that can express an

73 «

ecstacy of joy, it is that little warbler’s note; bright
sea, swift ships, busy shores, he sees it all, praises the
Creator, and drops to the side of his mate. Not many
steps and we are at the bottom of the hollow: how com-
plete the change! we see in no direction further than a
few yards; the outer world of life is as much excluded
as if we were in the depths of the Sahara; yet within a
sandy hollow is a world of life and beauty; mark how
the drooping sea-reed draws about itself a magic cirele
in the sand; that falling stream of glittering atoms may
give us a lesson in geology: bright Ctcindelide are
basking in the sun: everywhere appears wisdom and
animation. Must we except those scattered snail shells
that lie strewn upon the sand? Where all else is seen
to have a purpose, they appear only the sport of the

whirling breeze, symbols of whatever is worn out, cast
- off, empty and useless. Let us watch them for a moment:
notice that golden-haired bee, Osmia aurulenta, hovering
over them: she alights and disappears; she has entered
a shell, and safely in its whorls has deposited her egg
with a store of food for the larva, and on some future day
from that bleached shell shall issue the winged insect
that is to represent whatever of beauty and of excellency
the creative thought bestowed upon its species.

Woods and heaths and lanes are happy places, but to
me even they yield less interest than our wild tempest
beaten sand hills.

Two localities upon the coast remain to be noticed,
the first of which is the elevated and much broken ground
between New Brighton and Wallasey, producing several
rare flowering plants, and Batarrea phalloides, a fungus so
rare that Mr. Berkeley informs me the only British speci-
men in his possession is the original one from which the
plant was figured in “ Sowerby’s English Botany.”

The shore of the Dee, including Hilbre Island, is also

10

- 74

admirable botanizing ground. I have seldom seen a
parterre in any garden more vividly coloured than the
banks of the Dee below Parkgate, where the Bloody
Crane’s-bill and the Yellow Horned Poppy line the shore
for nearly a mile with a glowing border of crimson
and gold.

I have endeavoured to mention the principal fields of
our district for botanical excursions. It must not, how-
ever, be supposed that all the plants in our local Flora
are to be found in the course of a few visits to these
likely localities. Some plants seem to disappear for
several seasons in succession, and I have often returned
from a vain search in a station of the highest character,
and on my way home have found a long sought prize in
a spot where it was little expected.

It may be interesting to compare the various propor-
tions in which some of our more distinct botanical fields
contribute to our local list of flowering plants. This can,
of course, only be done approximately. Woods and
woodlands afford 56 species; pastures and meadows 45;
corn-fields 29; peaty soil, heaths, and bogs 40; purely
aquatic localities 36; ditches, marshes, and wet places
not distinctly peaty 123 ; walls, banks, hedges, road-sides,
and waste places 254; sand-hills 69; the Dee shore 13;
banks, rocks, and broken ground near the sea 38; salt-
marshes 14; plants supposed to be not indigenous 62 ;
plants that have been met with on only one occasion 28 ;
species concerning the occurrence of which within the
district there is doubt 28; making a total of 835 species
out of 1561 flowering plants described by Hooker and
Arnott in their British Flora of 1855.

Of Ferns and their allies our local list contains 32
species. The species in the British Flora are 60 in

number.
The unwearied zeal with which Mr. F. P. Marrat has

75

applied himself to investigate the mosses of the district,
has enabled him to enrich our local Flora with a list of
200 species. 446 species are described in the “ Bryologia
Britannica,” published by Mr. Wilson, in 1855.

I have not thought it desirable to particularise the
stations for rare or curious plants, such information being
more appropriately given in the local Flora by Dr.
Dickenson, published in the “« Proceedings” of this
Society.

SEVENTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Institution, 25th February, 1858.
The Rev. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., Sen. V.P., in the Chair.

Dr. THomson exhibited and explained Mr. Tumer’s
ingenious apparatus for detecting burglars.

Mr. Byertey exhibited a piece of wood cut from timber
floated ashore off New Brighton, completely covered with
barnacles; also a piece bored by the teredo navalis, con-
taining fine specimens of the worm.

The following paper was then read :—

ON THE MORAL DIGNITY OF THE SHAKSPERIAN
DRAMA.
By J. T. FOARD, ESQ.
Tue contemplation of any of the vast and magnificent
architectural monuments bequeathed to us by distant ages,
appears naturally to provoke inquiry into the necessities
and motives which gave them birth. In presence of the
Pyramids, of the ruins of “ the hundred-gated ” Thebes,

76

of the Temples of Nineveh, the mind, dispelling its in-
stinctive and involuntary awe, recurs at once to their
founders. To the men of whom these columns and frag-
ments are but the “fossil remains.” To seek the moral of
the story these monuments enshrine. To ask if these
beacons, which now hold lonely watch by the graves of
a departed race, by their deserted hearths, by their silent
homes, tell of a nobler race than our own; and enquire if
they were of a loftier strain, of a more enduring courage, of
a more self-sacrificing spirit than the men of to-day. For
the human interest is still above all, and these bleaching
skeletons and scattered bones of antique walls bear the
burden of a song which can never grow old ; which tells of
hearts now cold, once full of passionate desires ; of heads
which have long ceased to throb, once not less ardent,
restless than our own; or, it may be, of a people patient,
pious, of a more practical faith and a more sublime am-
bition. The men who planted these breastworks against
the tide of time, who framed these records to outlive their
own brief day of sunshine and of shade, chose no mute
means of appeal, The hand which framed column and
lintel, key-stone and arch, stretched across the wide abyss
of ages, of countries, and of climes, returns a warm and
still vital pressure. Like the horn hung at the gate of
enchanted castles in fairy tales, it is still potent to renew
all grand and glorious memories, to wake the silence
into busy life, to people the solitude with men, and, by
the pomp and circumstance of antique life, kindle a new
and not less generous emulation.

Who and what were these men? Under what
creed, with what hope, by what inspiration built they
so wisely and so well; not so much to endure, as to be
worthy to endure; not so strong only, but so fitted to
the mutations of fortune and of fate? Were their
temples reared by many minds in unison? Whose

77

motives lent an elevation to their labours, or borrowed
grace from its achievements? or did purely artistic con-
siderations, or a sublime purpose lend its lustre to crown
the glory of their deeds? These are questions that most
naturally occur in reference to the relic of an art of which
the bond of sympathy has been torn away, founded by
men between whom and ourselves there is a great gulf
fixed—for they were not Christians. The same consi-
derations occur to us more promptly, and influence us
more powerfully, in connexion with the remains of me-
dizyval or Christian art and architecture. The moral of
design and spirit of construction of the churches and
cathedrals of the middle ages has a nearer and dearer
interest, and is a subject no less of pleasant than im-
portant inquiry and legitimate research.

Modern criticism pronouncing on this ecclesiastical
architecture, assumes the existence of a moral grandeur
and dignified purpose superior to the instincts of emula-
tion, or even of those influences of artistic propriety which
constrain an artist in the execution of his work. It
declares that what was accomplished with the rude
engineering appliances of a semi-barbarian age, proves
that some special motive, more or less exalted, is needed
above mere power or resource, to achieve lasting and
unchallenged honour, and for the consecration of labour
to immortality. That an earnest and zealous devotional
spirit, was alike the necessity that originated these splendid
edifices, and of their unapproachable excellence. It
has proceeded further: it has declared that a certain
superiority and grandeur of motive and design, are
necessary to the supremacy of ail that is to be eternal in
duration or universal in acceptance; that singleness and
purity of heart are demanded, to consecrate such efforts,
and fit them with the moral dignity, essential to command
unmixed and inevitable approval.

78

If this is true, wholly or in part, of one branch or
phase of art, it must be no less true of each and every
aspect of the same subject; of art spoken or written, as
of art carved in stone or framed in architecture ; of art
dramatic and epic, as of art picturesque and pictorial.
Antique philosophy (no less than antique fable in the
mythology) assigned to dramatic art, epic poetry, and
sculpture a common origin; the same beneficient tutelary
guardianship of Minerva, and by her impersonation, the
same miraculous origin and maturity at birth. The per-
fection of the highest possibilities of literature in tragedy
and epic poetry (as of sculpture and architecture), in the
results of one master mind, substantiate the truth, sha-
dowed by the fable, of the unity in nature and origin of
all art. Modern philosophy, with a spirit which seeks
differences with a view to classification, rather than to
discover resemblances, which contain the secret of laws,
draws parallels between poetry and painting, and is
content. It would consider the application of the same
laws of creation to literature and sculpture unreasonable,
and to claim for dramatic literature especially the same
dignity of sustained design, would be considered absurd.
The belles lettres are presumed soulless; their own in-
centive, inspiration, reward. The dramas of Shakspere
would be cited perhaps as the first instance in proof of
how little even a high order of literature has needed
either of motive or design, to ensure its success, and
how much may be accomplished without the pretext of
superior intention. “ Conceived in a purely secular spirit
by an actor and manager of a theatre, they offer abun-
dant evidence, if it were needed, that poetic literature of
the highest kind, can be created in the simplest spirit
of construction without moral arrangement or motives of
dignified design.” These positions are worth testing.

Is dramatic art exceptional in claiming moral excellence

79

as essential to its noblest form of manifestation? Is the
spirit of Christian art, which lends to modern sculpture,
painting, and architecture, its distinction, if not its
supremacy, absent from the drama? Is it true that the
loftiest faculties of the human mind applied to creative
labour weaken, as the form of expression is improved and
perfected? Can it be that the pen of the poet is less
sacred than the pencil of the painter? Was Shakspere
in the utterance of the most sublime and sustained
morality, the purest and wisest sentiments, not less con-
strained by Apollo, than the Sibyl, “fingit premendo,”
and prompted by a not less exalted fervour and inspired
purpose. Were his utterances merely irregular, and his
complex and mighty monumental labours, alike defying
criticism and comparison, disjointed imaginings, or at best
the labourious efforts to please, of an affluent but prodigal
mind. Was his wisdom poured forth in libation without
controlling intention or even such purity of resolve as is
claimed for any artist or architect whose work is to out-
live his generation. Is there not rather evidence of
sacrifice in various forms, which would imply a resolve
set much-above the exigencies of the moment, the love or
the desire for transitory success, or even the mere pursuit
of fame. And the question I now propose to discuss is
the affirmation of a principle of design regulating all the
poet’s labours, and for the presence of such evident mo-
tives of construction as will pronounce the moral dignity
ruling and regulating the artistic propriety of all his
plays. For this, it is not necessary of course to claim for
them, influenced as their production was, by so many
circumstances, of time, opportunity, and place, the unity
of a single work ; nor claim for all, the distinction that may
attach but to a part; but to inquire by some and by those
chiefly on which his reputation hangs, if a merely secular
motive is sufficient to account for their literary excellence

80

and perfection, and whether an artistic zeal alone would
have secured the unity of the moral form of his later plays.
_ Charges have been frequently made which impugn
their purity, charges against scenes and speeches as
eminently immoral and unnecessary, and thus subject to
the severeimputation, that a loveof impurity had prompted
their introduction for impurity’s sake, in violation of
the exigencies of the play. A crime against artistic
ag well as moral propriety. These if proved would wholly
hinder a belief in the moral purity of the author, or in
the sanctity or consecration of his works. But, unfortu-
nately for those opposed to the dramatic form of litera-
ture, these objections and charges can be easily explained
away. The question remains not whether such enormities
were systematically introduced, but the larger one,
whether many seeming incongruities and imperfections,
cannot similarly be traced, and referred back to a spirit of
order, and arrangement, and to a grander unity of form,
than is at first sight apparent. Some persons have
assumed to discover a certain thread of order and form
running through several of the later plays which has no
reference to the necessities of the dramatic construction.
To such a vital principle as circulates in a tree or plant,
and sustains its vigour, health, symmetry, and perfection.
If such a force exists, and the suggestion is not a fanciful
one, the question remains, what is the crystallismg law
ruling these atoms, what the larger law of growth, regula-
ting the form of these seemingly irregular creations? Or,
in other words, are there considerations of a purely moral
nature, which have imposed restrictions of design on the
poet, superior to the mere order and arrangement incum-
bent on dramatic composition? Is the fire, which “lends
the light which ne’er was seen by sea or land,” the ulti-
mate grace and perfection of all art, indeed, “the conse-
cration,” which must be supperadded to the poet’s dream.

81.

The mass of literature, in criticism and commentary,
on Shakspere, which has appeared within the last few
years, by its extent would seem to illustrate some law.
that makes the area of a poet’s orbit, depend on remote-
ness from the author's self. Of a variety and degree of
merit embracing, as may be supposed, the widest poles
of literary excellence—of wisdom and the want of it—a
very broad and simple classification, may be applied to it.
It is either complimentary or condemnatory. But on
examination it will be found, that this opposition in criti-
cism arises, less from peculiarity or causes existent in
the author than proper and personal to the commentators.
They divide naturally into a species of whig and tory
interest. On the one side are ranged writers who pro-
ceed on the assumption that Shakspere, as a player,
must Lave been, was, a very ignorant and unlettered
person, stumbling by accident on beauties, and on a
certain success in poetry, but still lamentably defective
in all those artistic aids of training and scholarship, which
are so necessary to noble poetry. It has mattered little
what facts were opposed to them: the theory was just
and perfect, and if the facts would not conform, it was
no fault of theirs. On the other side, within the last few
years only, have been marshalled a class—continually
increasing—which proceeds on the assumption and fore-
gone conclusion, that Shakspere was unquestionably
the greatest genius that ever lived, and that, while
amenable to criticism, a proper reverence is due to him.
That as poets made rules in art, and rules in art did not
make poets, it is necessary to weigh what are termed his
sins against art and his defiance of art, before proceed-
ing to judgment and condemnation. These two parties
or factions in criticism have been loosely distinguished
as German and English. The former uniformly manifest-
ing a disposition of reverence, raising objections with

11

82

diffidence, and dealing chiefly with the beauties and re-
sources of the poet, in an analytic and philosophic spirit:
the latter almost as uniformly criticising only to con-
demn; and using alike the memory of the poet and his
immortal labours with a presumption only equalled by
ignorance. It is obvious at sight that such a classifi-
cation by nationalities is most imperfect; for the names
of Coleridge, Charles Knight, Mrs. Jameson, Brown,
and Collier, with others no less familiar, at once occur
to impair it. But unquestionably it serves to mark
a distinction in the general tone of German, as dis-
tinguished from English criticism, which as certainly
exists—very largely to the credit of the former. With-
out proceeding so far back as that period, not very
remote, when “ Lear’—the sublime play of “ Lear!”—
was pronounced a dust heap, and some of its passages
were accepted as jewels, lost in their regular setting,
it was the fashion and custom of every writer to consider
the want of art and ignorance of Shakspere as matters
understood. Criticism meant nothing but calumny,
and the commentators were nothing if not critical. They
discovered, or pretended to discover, geographic blun-
ders, anachronisms, false quantities, broken metaphors,
instances of obscenity, and rhythmical errors without
number; and descended Harpies in horrid fight—

sinesten “Et magnis quatiunt clangoribus, alias

Diripiuntque dapes, contactuque omnia foedant

Immundo.”

No critic was qualified for office unless he could con-
tribute his quota of proofs of Shakspere’s folly, or Shak-
spere’s literary, artistic, or moral criminality. All this is
now changed; but it would be difficult to say how much
of the change has been effected or aided by German
literary influences. It is now customary to speak of the
poet more reverentially in print. But with honourable

83

exceptions, such as I have already named, it is not unjust
to declare that the tone of English commentary is still
depraved, depreciatory, and most inadequate to the
requirements and the dignity of the subject. That even
where most apprehensive and devoted in its admiration,
it neither attains the profundity, wisdom, nor devotion of
Teutonic commentary, and that it is frequently marked
by the utmost degradation of thought and feeling.

To Coleridge belongs the honour of having first among
Englishmen assumed a proper attitude towards the poet.
He was the first to approach the subject boldly, in a
spirit of enthusiastic and unqualified admiration. His
love gave him an insight, denied to less fervid or im-
passioned minds. He passed the threshold of verbal
criticism, the courts of cavil and remonstrance; saw and
understood the wondrous excellences before hidden. He
was able to explain the marvellous artistic and dramatic
propriety of the poet, no less in the delineation of the
most occult and mysterious workings of the human mind,
than in the exact relationship of circumstances to acts,
as in real life. He became the first high priest. Gifted
with a rare command of language, great enthusiasm, and
versatility of thought and expression, combined with a
subtle metaphysical acumen, and one of the noblest phases
of the poetic intellect manifested in any man, in any age;
he was peculiarly qualified, as inclined, to do service at
the honoured shrine of the great master mind, of all
literature. He tasked his resources for his office. His
service was unconditional. His homage subject to no
doubt; and in spirit as in wisdom, no successor, foreign
or English, has more feelingly interpreted, or more lovingly
appreciated, what the inconceivable wisdom of the wisest
head of all ages, the myriad-minded man, wrote. But
Coleridge did not assume to exhaust his theme, nor cir-
cumscribe the magic sphere of its great glory and perfec-

84

tions. He mapped out some of its wonders, traversed
its seas, ascended mountains, and with awe and an ever-
increasing enthusiasm marvelled on the inexhaustible
beauties by which he was surrounded. He lingered long
in the enjoyment of its pleasures, and dwelt eloquently
on “the deserts vast and antres wild,” the “rare noises
and pleasant music,” the tropic luxuriance, and the un-
bounded fertility of this enchanted isle, raised by the
hand of the arch enchanter himself. But it is to contrast
two distinct lines of criticism ordinarily adopted, and not
to dilate on either, that I refer to them. To contrast
such criticism as that of Coleridge, Goethe, Schlegel,
Charles Knight, and Ulrici, with that of the ordinary
routine of nineteenth-century-review-criticism ; to shew
how poor, mean, and derogatory to the poet’s memory it
frequently is; to point out its injustice, no less than its
ignorance; how, proceeding on false assumptions, it
drags the name of the poet in the dirt; how, pretending
to judicial wisdom, it is merely partisan; how it practices
base detraction under cover of exalted dignity, and thus
effects slander, malignant, insidious, and dangerous—
dangerous because insidious.

This may seem strong, if not unnecessarily severe
language ; yet it is hardly more harsh than the case
warrants. By asystematic assumption that, because the
poet was an actor and a manager of a theatre, he was
necessarily not an artist; and by reasoning from such pre-
mises as though they were proved, no less injury has been
done to the cause of literature, than violence offered to the
cause of truth. Yet this is still the course: the criticism
of to-day differs from that of the days of Malone, Johnson,
Warburton, and Steevens, only perhaps in being less cap-
tious—in scattering praise more regally, and in pretending
to a larger admiration. With more extended knowledge
and information, it assumes base and specious motives

85

in the poet, which could not have existed, or of which
there is no proof. It has proceeded in one degraded
instance further than this, but it need not be noticed.
But it ignores the existence or even the possibility of
existence of a moral design on the part of the poet. It
is oblivious of the earnestness, the superior philosophic
consistency and the uniformly elevated tone of thought
of all the later and revised plays. It hands down the
puritanic tradition intact, which associated Shakspere’s
name, because accident made him a player, with the
vices and melancholy delusion of the foot-lights, and of a
play-house—once abandoned to the court favour of
Charles IT. and the obscenities of Ford and of Congreve,
Suckling, Wycherley, and Kotzebue.

From the altitude of German criticism, the step is a wide
one. It is to pass from a landscape of pleasant sun, and
sea, and sky, to a bleak and barren waste; the heavens
no longer open overhead, into fathomless yet inviting
depths; the music is hushed, the pleasant verdure is
withered ; all is scorched, arid, desolate, for the landscape
is shut in by the miserable limit of the critic’s self-suffi-
ciency. There is no hope and no faith. To prove this
we have only to take in special proof an instance of each.
On the one side Ulrici, on the other an article in
the Edinburgh Review, No. 90. The last, not so much
from any literary merit, either of style or originality ;
but because it assumes to represent, and no doubt does
represent, the opinion of many Englishmen, if not the
general opinion in circulation in society. Ulrici claims
for the poet the most refined motives of artistic
authorship, not merely by assumption, but as deduced
from the labours themselves. The author of the Review
reiterates the assertion that Shakspere was a manager,
no less than an actor; avd that consequently his
highest mission and effort were to fill his theatre. In

86

their respective criticisms, these two critics proceed en-
tirely, from these very different positions, making their
arguments as far as possible conform with their premises.
The one naturally appears to seek for evidence of supe-
rior motives and designs, the other brings a microscopic
investigation to bear on all possible or conditional defects
merely. As one endeavours to illustrate the exalted
genius of the poet, exhibited in his writings, the other
attempts to debase and degrade him by all means in his
power; and this may be defined as a broad instance og
the difference between the English and German spirit of
criticism, and of the inevitable differences which must
result from such opposite modes of procedure. M.
Ulrici treats Shakspere as a poet—the Review as a
vicious and worldly speculator.

Judging by such tests of observation and experience
as must immediately occur to us, it is perhaps not unrea-
sonable to suppose that Shakspere would have written
to attract an.audience, and please them when attracted.
That his purpose was more directly to fill his treasury
than furnish moral edification. It is a base supposition to
believe that it stopped at this point —that his ideas
were limited by the “ Little O” of the Globe Theatre. No
impediment existed to his combining the elegant and
the useful, pecuniary advantage with artistic superiority.
If there were, or if any of the later plays afforded a pre-
text for such a belief, in their incompleteness or defects,
or from principle having been sacrificed to expediency,
any argument of a moral design would be considerably
impaired. It is asserted that as manager and actor, he
was compromised to please his audience. But it may be
asserted equally of any artist, or of almost every artist,
certainly of every artist who has an end to achieve, that he
works to please. He would say or do precisely the same
thing in the same way, perhaps if there were no audience

87

at all. But his aim is nevertheless the servant of his
hope, which is, that he will be appreciated and under-
stood, if not to-day, to-morrow; if not to-morrow, why
then by those who come after. If he be a true artist he
cannot make a sacrifice for mere temporary or present
success. He renders the truth as it is to him for the
truth’s sake: if no one listen he is disappointed, that’s
all; but he will regard unpopularity as a possible defect.
He will not attempt to suppress his intentions, but rather
to overlay them, and give them superficially the popu-
larity necessary to their efficacy. If Shakspere’s plays
had not been externally popular, they would never have
been our wealth and possession, for they would not have
been transmitted. The popularity was as necessary to
their form as their form to the popularity; and it has
been one of the problems of the German critics to discover,
by scientific and careful analysis, how so profound a play
as “Hamlet,” of so much philosophic subtlety, founded at
such depths, and amid the very shoals and quicksands of
man’s secret nature, should still stand serene and beauti-
ful, popular to the public eye. They saw the stone, cut
and polished, a gem admired by all, and they paused to
inquire what was the power which so harmoniously
blended ingredients so heterogeneous into such a com-
pact mass? what the inherent force that gave weight
and lustre to this diamond of light, and fused its flinty
incoherent material into a pure and perfect chrysolite?
Our reviewer is troubled with no such romantic specula-
tions. He has a good wholesome contempt for refined
motives and taste, and presumes that, as he has
never gone to the theatre to acquire morality, therefore
the artist has never been constrained by any moral
purpose. This is not perfectly sequential. It would be
hard to say that diamonds were fashioned with their
specific qualities of density, hardness, and indestructi-

88

bility, for the purposes of a levee, an opera night, or a
dancing room. The Elizabethan was a refined and criti-
cal, though perhaps a dissipated pleasure-seeking age.
The Elizabethan gallant, in his gay attire, peach-coloured
silk hose, and satin doublet, his pack of cards, and his prac-
tice with the duello; who spent his mornings lounging at
Paul’s, his afternoons at the theatre or bear-garden indis-
criminately, and his evenings in mad riot and potations
pottle deep, was not a fervent worshipper at a shrine
where morals and ethics were specially inculcated. There
is no parade of morality, no open exhibition of it, no such
moral essays as were permitted to the Johnsonian age,
either from the excellent taste of the poet or other causes.
The morality is not obtruded, but it no less exists. The
reviewer disbelieves this, and thus illustrates the truism,
that slander, to be efficacious, must be ignorantly and not
maliciously framed. The calamity of some natures is to
disfigure what they intend to embellish, as the Carrib-
bean savage, by tattoo and war-paint, disfigures his per-
son, which, if not beautiful, were better unadorned. The
reviewer, to do him justice, has a very warm apprecia-
tion of the poet’s merits ; he eulogises him sufficiently to
satisfy the most fervent enthusiast, but would simply
ignore all the noblest claims that he has to the honest
admiration of posterity. An innocent, well-meaning boy,
playing marbles on the tombstone of a great man, will
accidentally do more injury in effacing his epitaph than
a fanatic and malicious foe. After giving in his adhesion
to the rule of Shakspere as a dramatist, and to his supe-
riority over the national dramatists of other countries,
he establishes the dictum, “ That the plays are not to be
judged as poems; that the drama is a branch of art pecu-
liar in itself, aiming at peculiar effects, and achieving its
effects by peculiar means; that the very condition under
which Shakspere writes, is to interest and amuse an

89

audience ; that whatever higher aims the dramatic poet
may have in view, unless he amuses and sustains atten-
tion, he has failed.” Again, amusement is the prelimi-
nary condition—if that fail all fails; and finally he asks
the question he believes unanswerable, and which he has
husbanded as a coup de battaille. ‘‘ Did you ever, in the
whole course of your life, book the two first seats in the
boxes, or shield your wife from the crush at the pit door,
under the impression that your passions were to be puri-
fied, and next Sunday’s sermon anticipated?” I need
scarcely remark, in reply to this last question, that were
no loftier ingenuity manifested in the construction of any
great work than is ordinarily brought to the contempla-
tion of it, chaos would indeed be come again. If an in-
telligent apprehension of the motive of the designer, or
even of his expressed moral be necessary in those ap-
pealed to, then the sun, and the stars, and the flowers by
the way-side, have made their daily pleading since the
world stood with little effect. If the degradation of an
audience is the measure of a prophet’s inspiration, then
indeed are all the lessons of the Creator’s wisdom read in
vain, is the mission of the teacher ended, and the very
idea of improvement shut out.

Accepting the reviewer's data, that the plays are not to
be judged as poems, that the conditions under which the
noblest literature of any age was framed, was primarily
that of amusing an audience, and that this was its necessity,
the “be all and end all” of its designer’s purpose, it would
perhaps be as well to add to them the reasons for such a
belief as far as they can be discerned; and for the very
supposition that Shakspere was a careless inartistic drama-
tist of wonderful power, facility, even genius, satisfied
with the reputation he achieved in his own day, and
neither emulous of honourable remembrance nor supreme

distinction. They seem principally these :—
12

90

1.—That he published no edition of his plays; and, as
far as they are concerned, expressed no known desire or
intention to do so.

2.—That if his sonnets are to be considered in any
sense autobiographical, he entertained a belief in the
immortality of his verse, which belief we know did not
extend to his dramas. From this, and from the dedica-
tion to the “ Venus and Adonis,” in which he speaks of
that poem as the first heir of his invention, it is presumed
that he did not value his dramas for their literary merits,
or found on them his claim to immortality.

3.—That he allowed piratical and incorrect editions of
his plays to be issued, as far as evidence is afforded,
without protest.

4,—That he adopted the plays of other authors—was
content to patch, mend, and alter what he could, in a
literary sense alone, so much better have accomplished
wholly. That he accepted literary partnership with men
of very inferior ability, not only in early life from neces-
sity, but in the very latest period of his career from
indifference or choice. In the “Timon of Athens,” for
example, first. published in 1623, and “Henry VIII.”
The former play is bracketted with “Measure for
Measure,” by M. Ulrici, as one of his last plays, and its
date of composition is assigned to the years 1613 or 14,
Mr. Knight fixing it as late as 1610 or 11. In “Henry
VIII.” he adopted, as Malone first pointed out, whole
speeches and scenes with little more than rythmical
alterations.

5.—That apart from the doubtful estimation in which
dramatic writing and dramatic authors were held, as is
proved by the well-known anecdote of Ben Jonson being
ridiculed in an epigram for publishing his plays as works.
By Shakspere’s touching allusion to the degradation of
his profession, and by the wording of public documents

91

in reference to plays and players, the poet was held in
no literary honour by his contemporaries, or in any sense
esteemed as a great poet. Lord Bacon does not refer to
him in all his works; nor Sir Henry Wotton in his volu-
minous correspondence with almost every literary man of
the period; nor Webbe, in 1586; nor Pemberton, in
1589; nor Sir J. Harrington, in 1591, although publishing
works in reference to poets and poetry.

6.—The internal evidence of haste or carelessness, or
presumed neglect in the diction, in the arrangement
of scenes, or in the construction, and in the choice
of plots already familiar, as well as in the repeated
obscenity and undue importance conceded to the comic
passages, ce.

7.—That the tenour of his life, from the contemporary
evidence transmitted, was marked by no outward profes-
sions of sincerity or religious zeal—nor such conscious
elevation of his own personal dignity or of the importance
of his mission as attaches to the functions and offices of
professedly moral writers or moralists, such as we associate
even with the memory of Milton, Dante, or Wordsworth.
That he came, as Mr. Emerson has remarked, eating and
drinking, and that it could not be said of him that “his
soul was like a star and dwelt apart.” He was a jolly
companion, a free liver, not inattentive to his religious
offices ; on the contrary, shewing a reverential nature in
every aspect; but that he wore his religion easily is the
uniform tenour of such anecdotes as refer to him. That
he represented in this, what Macaulay has described as
the national feeling of the time, when he expresses his
opinion, “That the people whose minds were made up on
either side, or whe were inclined to make any sacrifice or
run any risk for either religion, were few.” This tra-
ditional character, handed down like the story of the
deer stealing—of his holding horses at the theatre door

92

for subsistence, and of his killing a calf in heroic style—
has been, no doubt, the chief cause of his religious and
moral dignity as an author having been impugned or
doubted. Add to this the fact of his having been an
actor, and of his reputation having literally to run the
gauntlet of the next generation of Roundheads, who
hated players with a bigotted zeal, as men of Belial, and
we may understand how much of this opinion may have
arisen. That prejudice, in his own and in the succeeding
age, would have forbidden the idea, that a player would
trouble himself with the inculcation of religious truths,
or with doctrines for the special projection of moral and
Christian axioms, is positive. Very few persons since the
time of the Puritans would have dared to assert as much
as this, or combat the prejudices which four generations
have made law,

It will be seen that these arguments, which I have
imperfectly catalogued, amount to little if united, and
taken separately are likely to be estimated at a very
different value by different persons. Some of them
answer themselves or each other, or are not worth reply.
To meet others would be impossible with the scanty
evidence at command. Attaching little importance to
them myself, I merely offer them as the basis on which
the superstructure of very much modern criticism is
founded. Having been a long time accepted as facts, the
tone of disquisition usually proceeds from an assumption
that the levity of construction they involve, is proved.
They arm the battery aimed at the moral dignity of
Shakspere’s dramas, and no less at the memory of
Shakspere himself, that I would wish, once and for ever,
to see razed and scattered to the winds. There are a few
others which I purposely omit, such as his asserted
sacrifice of truth in his historical portraits of Joan of
Arc and Richard III., to flatter the ignorant prejudices

93

of his countrymen, or the reigning dynasty in the strain
of adulation of part of Henry VIII., to please James I.,
and in his portrayal of Shylock, in deference to the
traditional enmity borne by the mass of the people to the
Jewish race. I believe them all distinctly capable of
absolute disproof or explanation, but my time will not
permit me to refer to them this evening, involving as
these questions do conflicting historic and critical evidence
of a voluminous kind.

In reply to all these charges the Germans point to the
plays themselves for ample refutation. To the direct
evidence afforded by their plot, construction, and moral
design, for a complete absolution from any stigma of
taste or neglect, for a complete proof of its injustice.
I can do little more perhaps than this, or rather can do
nothing so effectual as this, but as it may be presumed to
be begging the question, I will briefly recapitulate such
direct answers to these points as are afforded by indirect
evidence, and arguments similar to those advanced in
opposition.

In reply to the first statement. If we are to accept the
testimony of the sonnets as an expression of the personal
feeling of the poet which is now the generally received
opinion in Shaksperian literature. The argument that
he was insensible to fame is not merely disproved, but is
shown to be directly opposed to the truth. The inference
that he did not seek immortality because he did not
publish his plays is merely a negative one, and is answer-
able by other statements on the same side. There is no
proof certainly that he did intend to publish. There is
just as little that he did not. On the contrary, a candid
perusal of Heminge and Cundell’s preface to the edition
of 1623, will show that it might have been his intention
to publish, but that his comparatively sudden death frus-
trated his purpose. He was a partner in the Globe and

94

Blackfriars Theatres, chiefly if not wholly by authorship,
from this fact, and that he alludes in his will to Burbage
and Cundell, as his fellows, it is most probable that his
brother managers still retained such an interest in his
plays as would prevent publication. It is possible, as has
been shown by Mr. Knight and G. A. Browne, that his
wife retained this interest in his dramas and in the
theatres, in addition to that portion the law allowed.
That he did not in his plays manifest any craving for
immortality is so far true, that he did not in them
manifest any discoverable egotism, bias, or personality
whatever, so far true and no further. From his dramas it
would be impossible to predicate any single partiality,
leaning, taste, or feature of his life or character what-
ever. For one statement in proof of any hypothesis of
this kind twenty instances as cogent can be urged in
denial. Butif we can divine nothing from the dramas
we can gain much from the sonnets. From these, or
rather from the poem in the sonnet stanza, composed of
the first 126 verses, and which is erroneously published
under the title of sonnets, we have a large and important
amount of evidence. Testimony so sincere in its expres-
sion, so earnest in tone as to demand a hearing. It has
been contended against this, that the usage of the age
admitted the production of a certain class of fictional
poetry, of which the sentiments were as purely fantastic
and imaginary as if applied to dramatic personages.

This is an argument which in no sense applies to
these sonnets, or to this sonnet poem. They are many
of them precisely on those subjects which neither invite
nor admit dissimulation. That our author might profess
an extravagant loyalty, affection, or love in verse is pos-
sible. Not greater than he is capable of feeling, it must
be borne in mind, but greater than he experienced to-
wards the person or persons to whom the verses are

95

addressed. But there is none of the Euphuistic spirit of
such poetry and of the age, manifested in these stanzas—
even were it probable, which it is not, that the writer
would profess a vaunting self confidence, ambition, or
egotism which he did not feel. The emotions delineated
are just those which men ordinarily conceal, or make no
boast of. They have the variety in great part of confes-
sions wrung from a man against his will and in spite of
himself. Again their identity in feeling with many of the
sentiments and expressions in “ Hamlet,” I accept as an
additional proof of their personality. It may be urged that
Iago’s super-subtle Venetian hypocrisy and double dyed
villany are as much the poet’s as Hamlet's metaphysical
speculations. The microcosm includes both good and
ill, the entire extremes, and where those extremes merge
into each other. But this is true of all men with this
difference ; that the noblest good includes the worst ill ;
the worst ill includes only itself. The speculations or
doubts of Hamlet were not possible to Jago. In all
cases what is requisite to be known in an analysis of
character, is not what a man contains, or what is possible
to his mind, but which side of him (to use a by no means
elegant phrase) lies uppermost. Without pronouncing
positively, on a point, which I am not qualified to decide,
I am inclined to believe that the loftiest intellectual
aspect of the poet is shewn in “ Hamlet,” indeed that
it is the most elevated in its purely intellectual fea-
tures of any character, ancient or modern, projected in
literature, or in universal history. With this belief, and
with this key in my hand, real or imaginary, I am to sup-
pose that those expressions in the sonnets which assimi-
late in feeling and thought with those of “Hamlet” are
fair exponents of the prevailing aspect.of the poet’s mind.
Had the sonnets expressed an exaggerated scepticism or
infidelity, 1 should have doubted their authenticity, not

96

from prejudice, but because the tendency of Shakspere’s
mind could not have been to scepticism of good like
Iago’s. ‘“ Hamlet’s” very doubts dissolve the base ques-
tionings of the Italian, for the greater not only includes,
but rules the less. It was in this sense only that the epithet
of “universal poet” is a just one, as comprehending the
lesser spheres—to be universal in mind is the distinction
of humanity, as it is of all else, to include everything be-
neath itself, within itself.

To turn to the sonnets themselves, Shakspere, no longer
appears the arch magician and enchanter, like Prospero,
passionless, directing powers of a loftier and more ethe-
rial nature to execute his behests. He has buried his
staff certain fathoms in the earth andis human. They
are full of the repinings of conscience, of the throes of
ambition, of the whispering of hope, such as beset us all;
of contrasts with himself, of his fortunes, and defects, with
others, all combined semblably together by that tinge
of melancholy so marked in Jaques and Hamlet. Mr.
Knight thinks but few of the sonnets united, and treats
them in the only part of his criticisms with which I dis-
agree, as isolated jottings on different themes. I on the
contrary coincide with Mr. J. Brown, that the first 120, are
clearly and indissolubly, one poem. A poem in a stanza
of which there were precedents in the poetry of the age.
I do not insist on more than the first 126, because these
alone are material to my argument. Mere’s reference to
Shakspere’s sugared sonnets, 1599, may have referred
to others, and the two surreptiously published in 1590,
with the “Passionate Pilgrim,” do not fall among the
126, though that would not materially affect their unity
of construction, though it would impair the present belief
in their dedication.

In the 17th stanza the poet, after praising the subject
of his song, says—

97

“The age to come would say this poet lies—

Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces ;
So should my papers, yellowed with their age,
Be scorned like old men, of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet’s rage,
Or stretched metre of an antique song.

But were some child of yours alive that time,

You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme.”

In the last couplet of the 18th stanza—
“So long as men can breathe, as eye can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”
and in the 19th— ;
“Yet do thy worst old Time, despite thy wrong;
My love shall in my verse ever live young.”
In the 55th, absorbing the whole stanza—
“Not marble, not the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry ;
Nor Mars his sword, nor war’s quick fire shall burn,
The living record of your memory.
*Gainst death and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth, your praise shall still find room,
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So till the judgment, that yourself arise—
You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.”

This may be fanciful, but it seems to me very like sincere
belief. Not to multiply examples by further quotation,
it appears to me that any person who can, after their
perusal, declare that the poet had no legitimate or
natural craving for immortality, must be a bold man.
The occasional humility they disclose, the doubts, the
quick sense, of wrong, of human injustice, and of the pre-
valence of evil, so far from weighing against this testi-

mony, — it. He has an undoubted, faith in
:

98

the eternal remembrance of his muse. To presume that
he believed his sonnets alone entitled to this distinction,
is to presume such an absence of discrimination and
judgment in the poet as would be well nigh impossible,
if not absurd. It is scarcely less, to assume that they
were simulated expressions, and that the circuit of his
great soul was bounded in itself, and lacked, that last
infirmity of noble minds, ambition.

On the evidence, then, of these verses from this sonnet
poem, which by their undoubted authenticity, and be-
cause they do not fall under the restrictions proper to the
plays, I believe I am justified in using, I assume that it
is positively incorrect, and even ridiculous, to assert that
Shakspere was not sensible to considerations of fame.
There is no proof extant, but the negative one adverted
to, that he was so far exceptional to our common nature
as to lack that ordinary self-consciousness attendant on
all genius, perhaps on all intellect whatever.

Next, the allusion in his dedication to the “ Venus and
Adonis” as “being the first heir of his invention,” to which,
however, very little attention need be attached. Mr.
Knight and Mr. Brown have each explained this expres-
sion fully and reasonably. Shakspere may have written
nothing completely or entirely for the stage before this
poem, or he may have written it at a very early age,
though he published it many years after, when he found
a patron to whom to dedicate it. In either sense it
would have been the first heir of his invention; and it is
not necessary therefore to assume that he considered his
dramas inferior to his poems, and in this deferred to the
prejudice of his age in its preference of this kind of compo-
sition. The fact of his not having written an entire play
at this date solves every difficulty. The third objection,
that he allowed the issue of piratical and incorrect
editions of his plays without protest, which I may couple,

“99

for despatch sake, with the fourth: that he adopted the
plays of other authors—old manuscripts from the property
chests of the theatre—and accepted partnership in his
labours with humbler men, early and late in life.

The reply to these charges is, that it is obviously im-
proper for us to attach to productions of this kind the
rule which we would apply to laboured literary effusions
of the present day. The whole cycle of thought is
changed. The nature of the audience, the conditions of
publication, are widely different. The same laws do not
hold with respect to artistic results produced under oppo-
site, almost antagonistic circumstances. The fact that a
result is produced, in the direct exercise of a profession
for subsistence, or wholly for reputation’s sake, materi-
ally alters the case. A difference also should be esti-
mated between that which is produced, in the assurance
of celebrity, and that which is wrought only in the hope
or belief of fame, though that belief be of the strongest
kind. To illustrate by a sister art, Mr. Chantrey, in his
later years, it is asserted, on good authority, allowed
works to issue from his atelier which he had worked on
very shghtly, or not at all: and this from two causes—one,
that though there was great difference between his labours
and that of others, that difference was not likely, in
the general ignorance which prevailed in art, to be
soon detected, or if detected, seriously regarded; the
other, that general usage sanctioned it. The fraud was
trivial, because the persons apprized of their loss could
not estimate the extent or even nature of their wrong.
The fraud was not considered criminal, no one being injured
by it. It ceased even to possess that element of deceit
which would justify my use of the word, though in
every other sense it is fraud to accept pecuniary con-
sideration for that which is not what it professes to
be. Fashion preferred what was not the labour of his

100

hands, but which was assigned to him, to that which
could not be so bestowed. It has seemed to me that
the dramatic poet was in the condition, in reference
to the Elizabethan age, that a sculptor was to the
Georgian era. He appealed directly and chiefly to a select
few, whose judgments not infallible, were easily satisfied.
Like an orator, an improvisatore, a sculptor, or a painter ;
and not like a modern literary man who knows that every
word will be duly published and read, criticised, punished,
or rewarded. In the exercisc of his profession he wrote
certain plays in haste for immediate exigencies without, I
‘will not say a due, regard to the perfection of the result
that he held in reference to other of his labours. That,
in fine, he wrote fora livelihood, as well as for fame. As
Mr. Chantrey produced one or two of the noblest portrait-
statues of modern times, and several master-pieces,
marked by a careful and conscientiously achieved ex-
cellence, greater artist, Shakspere himself, laboured on
some of his works to give them the perfection he
desired, and to acccomodate their theme to the desires of
his mind.

That he subsequently altered and amended marty plays
produced in haste, in youth, or for specific occasions and
representation, is now proved. In this he might have
presumed, being placed in similar circumstances to a
painter or a sculptor, that his fame would be vindicated
by his great works, and that the lesser ones would drop
quietly into oblivion. To sunpose this, is to presume no
indifference in him to the nobler plays. The association
of an artist with his labours was much less perfect once
than it is now, and when great painters took pupils, and
established schools, was not as fully understood. If it
were customary for poets or novelists in this age to
follow such a usage, we should hold, as a rule, much less
scrupulous identity between an author and his works.

101

That he did not allow his dramas to appear piratically,
without protest, is proved by—that most efficient protest
of all—a corrected edition, revised by his own hand, the
“Hamlet” of 1604. That he did not subsequently
publish other revised plays, is explained by the fair sup-
position that his co-partners were opposed to the publi-
cation of his plays, as interfering materially, as they
might suppose, with their rights, and with their popu-
larity for the purposes of representation. Whether he
made any other protest cannot be known. That he did
not take any active or vigilant measures of repression
we might almost assume from his characteristic gentle-
ness. But there is nothing to shew that he was insensi-
ble to the piracy, or that he did not adopt such means of
prevention as were practicable, or consistent with his
nature.

Next, as to his adoption of plots and co-partnership in
authorship in advanced life, and in the best season of his
literary magnificence, this seems true but of two plays—
“Timon of Athens” and “Henry VIII.” It may be that
these plays were altered after his death, or were left un-
finished in the sense in which they now appear; or that,
fixing them as among the latest of his plays, and assign-
ing to them the dates of production of 1613-14, or 1611,
Shakspere may have then been resident at Stratford or
visiting there. “Henry VIII.” was hastily thrown to-
gether for a particular representation, and transmitted
to his partners in London, with the intention of subse-
quent revision. If the poet was the William Shak-
spere who appears in the militia roll for the hundred of
Barlichway in 1610, his residence in Stratford would be
proved, which would render such an event possible, pre-
suming the date of the first representation of “Henry
VIII.” to have been as early as it is fixed by Knight.
Whether it was altered or interpolated by Jonson or

102

some other hand, is not quite manifest nor under what
circumstances ; but it is sufficient to shew that such an
interference in the construction or versification was not
the rule, but purely exceptional and explicable on very
many grounds.

His adoption of plots, or even of stories, already dra-
matised and popularly known, must appear quite natural,
when the circumstances under which he first entered the
theatre are known, and the undoubted demand that
would exist for his labours to satisfy the necessities of
the theatre. His best justification is to be found in the
admirable use made of them, and in the fact that the
stories themselves, no matter whence or how derived,
served his purposes as well as if issued from the coinage
of his own brain.

That he was held in slight esteem as a poet by his
Contemporaries, is not a very serious charge; the fault
was theirs, not his. It must be admitted that he was
not honoured. by his age as a poet, although placed in
the first rank as a dramatist. Daniels was preferred
when he applied for the post of master of the revels;
and, in the words of a modern author, he might have
-had “to veil his bonnet,” not only to Spenser, but to
Daniels, and Chapman, Harrington, and Fairfax. But
what of this: the poet laureates are not always the best
poets of their day; nor is the noblest author always
recognised by the public. Speaking of the age, Mr.
Emerson remarks, “since the time of Pericles there was
never any such society; yet their genius failed them to
find out the best head of the universe; our poet’s mask
was impenetrable—you cannot see the mountain near.”
This certainly must be the explanation, rather than that
he was slighted, because neither a moralist nor an origi-
nal author, he was unquestionably the most moral, as he
was the most original writer of his day. And the cause

103

of his not receiving honour at the hands of his contem-
poraries, more probably arose from the fact that the
puritanic prejudices against players were already in full
force, and that his social position in the then existing
state of society, bound as it was by the bonds of feudal
law, and encumbered by its fetters, hindered his recogni-
tion. “He was a Galilean,” and no good could come “ out
of Galilee.” It might perhaps be questioned that a mere
matter of worldly position would influence his estima-
tion as an author; but we have only to consider how
heavily it weighed on an author who lived within this
century, Robert Burns, to perceive that it might not only
do so, but would be most likely to do so. Extraneous con-
siderations weigh in every administration of justice, blind
the goddess is. If the resources of a powerful, even
gigantic mind, were crippled in the nineteenth century,
its popularity limited, its results held cheaply till twenty
or thirty years after death, how much more may we
suppose the influence of an author indirectly injured in
the seventeenth century. The ignominy that then at-
tached to his pursuits must have dulled the vision of the
most far-sighted and impartial. Educational acquire-
ments were valued then, even more than they have been
since, to the prejudice of genius—man’s art was honoured
above his Creator’s. The mere pretension to erudition,
or to academic accuracy, as in the case of Ben Jonson,
whose learning was none of the profoundest, was suffi-
cient to give an ascendancy in reputation; but neither
Jonson nor Shakspere could be honoured as college bred.
Shakspere was known to be an actor, therefore no
scholar—a glover’s son, consequently no classic. Lack-
ing classical lore, he lacked art; was a mere unskilful
and inartistic, though eminently successful, witty and
eloquent playwright. Like Burns, he was regarded as a
literary phenomenon. He was a comet of even a higher

104

order. This strain of reasoning, the key to so much sub-
sequent criticism, was no doubt the cause of much con-
tumely expressed in life toward the poet, productive of
much unhappiness, and the instance of those painful and
melancholy broodings, which, in his sonnets, have
escaped into print.

Finally, as to the internal evidence of haste or care-
lessness in the diction, but chiefly in the construction
of the plays, the “want of Art” in fact, and the ab-
sence of moral intention, manifested no less in the
poet’s life than in his plays. That point indeed which
our Reviewer insists on, when he supposes that, because
Shakspere was compelled to write a drama that would
act, it was necessary to render the popularity the chief
aim, and make moral considerations secondary, rather
than construct a drama artistically perfect; framed in
moral harmony, elevated by moral dignity, and then
trust to the result for its popularity. To inquire if the
idea of amusement has been held predominant? The
charges of haste and carelessness are easily disposed
of by a mass of convincing evidence accumulated from
all sides: First, because alterations have been frequently.
made in the dialogue and composition, with a view
alone to their literary, and without reference to their
dramatic, merit. Next, that very many of his plays
are not suited, indeed, never could have been suited,
for the stage; that very many of the scenes, even
in those days of court masques, were impracticable
for stage purposes; that they were so designedly, and
not accidentally, or from want of art, appears evident on
investigation. If the “ Tempest” were ever, or under
any circumstances, a good acting play, as Mr. Thornbury
suggests, but which I very much doubt, it must be ad-
mitted that the “ Midsummer Night’s Dream” is amena-
ble to no law of stage propriety. The “ Winter’s Tale,”

105

and “Measure for Measure,” are but partially fitted for
representation: indeed we may boldly say, of all these
four plays, that their very worst aspect is that of dramas
or acting plays. There isin neither of them the attention
to plot, to the balance of situations, to progressive de-
velopment of the story, to that unity of thought neces-
sary to enchain a spectator, which are among the first
laws and rules of dramatic composition. They violate
some of the most important of these conditions as com-
pletely as the productions of the merest tyro in play-
writing, and seem almost to justify what Hume charac-
terised as “his total ignorance of all theatrical art and
conduct.” In “Measure for Measure” there is not only
a story without a hero, and a play without a striking
situation or an artistically-wrought denouement ; but the
principal character who is to mate with the heroine,
opens the business of the play in defiance of the simplest
canons of construction. But Shakspere’s plays are full of
faults of this kind—of rash and unadvised endings—of
dreadful catastrophes—of heroes going, as Dr. Johnson
remarked, mad without cause, and recovering without rea-
son; and such unskilful endings, that the virtuous die off
with the guilty, or perish while the vicious survive. It
needs no capacity to discover this, a child might discern it.
They are what Mr. Hume pronounced “ the irregularities
and absurdities of the poet,’ so patent as to create a
wonder that an artist so accomplished in some respects,
should have discovered so culpable an ignorance in
others. Not unjustly either when we consider with what
subtle knowledge, and blended artifice and art Lear is
made a heathen, the better to illustrate his irrational,
violent, and unchristian spirit; Jago, an Italian—of the
very age and country of Machiavelli—and Othello, a Moor ;
or when we perceived the labour and discrimination
shewn in the alternate balance of all the characters in all
14

106

his plays. The appearance of ignorance on the one hand,
and of consummate art on the other, are evidently irrecon-
cilable. German criticism declares that like his anachron-
isms they are committed of set purpose and design, for
the furtherance of grander aims and principle.

Such a consideration as this would necessarily disprove
haste or carelessness, but evidence tothe purpose also exists
of a more pertinent kind. In the quarto edition of “ Ham-
let,” of 1604, the speech of the King is pointed and changed
from that of 1603, being, Mr. Knight has remarked, too
refined, and not sufficiently marked to distinguish it, either
in diction or in thought, from the language in the body of
the play. This alteration is a purely literary one; and,
although it might be maintained that the entire altera-
tion and increase of this edition, by which it was
“enlarged to almost as much again,” partook of this
character, it is certain and indisputable, that changes
were made purely from artistic and moral motives. Inthe
edition of 1603, Hamlet plots with the Queen the destruc-
tion of the King: this would act as well, but it violates
the metaphysical consistency of the play. Tracing back
the whole series of alterations and refinements on Belle-
forest’s novel and the old story of Saxo Grammaticus, it
is not too much to say, that the hero of the Chronicles,
with his two wives, would have been no less theatrically
interesting than the present melancholy, vacillating,
sceptical Hamlet. The wonder perhaps is, that a play,
with such a hero and such a catastrophe, could be or re-
main popular, for the mere purposes of theatrical repre-
sentation. The Chost,* or the variety of incident
offered, may have each contributed to this result ; but it
ean scarcely be doubted that the Prince, who goes mad

* It is just worth while to remark, that in “ Hamlet” the Ghost visibly appears
because he has a message to communicate; but in “ Macheth”’ he ought not to be
seen, for his action is entirely different. ,

107

“so unreasonably,” spite of this inconsistency in his
character, has been always the centre of interest. It
would have satisfied all the dramatic critics, and have
rendered the play much more methodical and consistent,
no doubt, had he been a trim, courtly personage, talking
magniloquent blank verse, in a superb grandiose manner,
without salient points, or, it must be added, individuality.
But this would have violated that larger consistency and
order of construction, necessary to the elucidation of ab-
stract and metaphysical principles such as the poet de-
sired. The play would have been as popular no doubt
had it been more according to rule; but the attempt was,
and the triumph has been, to make such an immethodic,
irregular production, popular and attractive too. Success
was attained, not by snatching a grace beyond the reach
of art, but by an inherent order and method which, if
not apparent to every eye, no less existed. An oak, even
if not trimmed like a Dutch yew or a box hedge, may
still possess vital order and consistency, though perhaps
not to Hanseatic minds. In “ Romeo and Juliet,” another
irregular play, the whole of the incidents and characters
seem so naturally bound together, diverse as they ap-
pear at first sight, as to resemble those famous temples,
which by the removal of a column come crashing down
in hideous ruin. Touch but a spring and all the con-
struction falls to pieces. Hvery thing is in order, and
from first to last not a word could be spared without in-
jury. The story is of violent and unreasoning, violent
because unreasoning, passion; and of an equally im-
petuous love and hate. The ardent Romeo, with an
impulsive and riotuos desire, alternates between the
heights of a blissful and most passionate love and the
depths of the most profound despair. His course is
between the utmost extremes. He seeks death as he
sought his love ; his life and his hopes are as violently

108

frustrated ; for he alike disregards the wisdom of others
and the dictates of his own judgment. All is impulse
and passion, leaping to excess, from gaiety to death,
from affection to hate, from joy to despair. The air is
heavy with wrongs, causeless feuds, mad suspicions, rash
and unadvised paternal rule, and impulsive devices. All
is framed into one harmony of complementary love and
hate, happiness and woe, which beget each other, and
which end as such unreasoning acts must ever end—most
grievously. There is order in this, though perhaps not
of the Turkey-carpet kind.

In answer to the charge of haste or carelessness,
nothing less than all the later dramas ought properly to
be produced. The only circumstance which could for an
instant substantiate the charge, is the rapidity with
which these wonderful plays were produced. For in-
trinsic evidence of haste or indifference we should seek
in vain. Unless entire passages were finished at a blow,
struck into life, Jonson’s praise of “ true filed lines” must
have been more exact than the assertion that “‘ Shakspere
never blotted a line.” So accurate seems the finish, so
unwearying the care, that to expunge a word from some of
the plays would be to strike a splinter from the solid and
concrete mass, and leave a flaw asif a fragment had been
rudely broken from its graceful and symmetrical out-
line. The charges of carelessness are indeed as un-
founded as Cecil’s—“ that he had a low and licentious
taste,” or Gifford’s—“ that he was the corypheus of
profanation.” The contrary is on all hands demonstrable.
Such charges could only have arisen in a criticism of
parts, by which a fraction being seen, the incompleteness in
that which was necessary to the perfection of the whole,
was misunderstood. What was designed with profound
intent was thus attributed to ignorance. It was in this
spirit that Cibber, and Tate, and Kemble, reconstructed

109

Shakspere’s plays, hoping to improve them by giving
them more orderly form and happy endings. It was
unfortunate that their laudable desire was frustrated,
and that their terminations of the “ single married, and the
married happy,” of “ vice punished and virtue rewarded,”
orthodox as they were, were not accepted. They made
the plays more representable than they were before, and
thus, if they could not command success being mortal,
perhaps, they deserved it. The public still prefer Shak-
spere’s plays as he wrote them, bad acting plays as many
of them no doubt are, though it requires some nerve to
state it. Human nature is inconsistent, and perversely
prefers these unfinished examples to more finished ones.
Rude and imperfect, the fragment of an elder time and
of a colossal race, they would prefer the statue as it is,
than finished by meaner minds. The hand of genius has
been upon it, and as it is, it must remain till the end of
time.

With reference to his character, we are so dependent
on tradition, beyond his works, for all that we know of
Shakspere’s life, that it is very difficult to advance any
thing in favour of his personal disposition that could
either add to, or take from, the merit of his labours. He
was esteemed and honoured by all who knew him, most
by those who knew him best. The epithet of gentle
Shakspere, the testimony of rivals, the affection of
friends—captious and irritable as history knows them—is
sufficient to attest his unusual amiability. Beyond this
we know little. His purchases prove him prudent—his
will pious. For the rest we must turn to his works.
They offer voluminous evidence, and it is perhaps
more rational to turn to his labours for vindication
of his life, than to his life to impeach his works. It
is possible that he was not a precisian, but that his was
an earnest mind, confirmed in principle and sustained in

110

honour, on the basis of all virtue and goodness, there is
now happily no real question. Mr. Emerson remarks, in
reference to his works, that he was strong as nature is
strong, without emphasis or assertion; and this is no
doubt as true of his life. The moral beneficence im-
parted to all his most fully delineated scenic characters,
no less than the predominant and sustained tone of
morality in such plays as “ Measure for Measure,” “The
Merchant of Venice,” is perhaps the best testimony of
his pure, noble, and loving nature. To contrast with the
insinuations and charges of immorality, obscenity, and
profanity, urged by Gifford, Birch, Bell, and others, there
is some accidental evidence borne by Coleridge and Dr.
Proctor, which, being spontaneous, is much to the pur-
pose. Coleridge remarks, “ Shakspere at all times kept
the highroad of life. He has no innocent adulteries, no
interesting incests, no virtuous vice; he never renders
that amiable which reason and religion teach us to
detest, or clothes impurity in the garb of virtue.” Dr.
Proctor adds, “he never tampered with truth, never
threw down the boundaries between vice and virtue,
never strove by voluptuous images to excite the passions,
nor by fallacious arguments to ensnare the mind or con-
fine the intellect.” It is, however, a work of superero-
gation to defend, not only by external arguments, but by
extrinsic testimony, a question on which the plays must
be the best witness, their own noblest expositor. To the
dramas must we look for the proofs of their own moral
dignity. For the proof of those moral and religious con-
siderations, and of those Christian doctrines so marvel-
lously expounded, so infinitely applied, so positively incul-
cated, that the German critics imsist on. If as a literature
it combined the utmost fertility of intellectual resource,
with an even more than human vigour, eloquence, hu-
mour, fancy, accuracy of knowledge, aptness of illustra-

111

tration, and gorgeous imagery, lacking the moral con-
solidation of lofty principle, it would still, as a modern
and Christian literature, be defective, undeserving the
high honour awarded to it by many minds, and that
place that it would otherwise claim as the noblest litera-
ture of all time.

In proceeding to an analysis of the plays, it is only fair
that we should bring to the task such impartial and
unprejudiced consideration as we should, under similar
circumstances, render to any other great and world-
famous work, or system of art. That we should weigh
what has been sacrificed, as well as what has been
achieved, in deference to a fixed plan; what has been cut
away, what rounded, what adorned; the diminution of this
ornament, the addition to another; the refinement or
chastening of a third, To trace the gradation by which it
arose completely, as it stands perfected before the eye.
To accomplish this, it would, perhaps be the simplest
course, to examine one of the dramas in detail—“ Measure
for Measure.” One of the least successful of the acting
plays, of the most irregular structure. A play which will
best illustrate the want of art asserted by one side, and
the presence of the noblest art insisted on by the other.
The story, as we know, is a simple one. A governor of a
people leaves his realms to the mercy and rule of a
deputy, who, under a seeming show of virtue and pre-
cision, is yet unchanged at heart, and is destitute of that
soul of honour, and integrity of purpose founded by
reliance on superior power. He attempts to walk alone,
in his own unaided strength, and falls. Rigid in the
punishment of offence, unsympathetic and inflexible, a
ruler and not a father to his people, he yet commits and
with peculiar circumstances of aggravation, the very
crimes he so severely visits, and is finally punished by

112

failure, detection, and disgrace. There is little in the
plot to recommend it dramatically, or in any incident it
discloses. If we deny to it any merit beyond that of
pleasing an audience, and accept the Reviewer's dictum,
“Tf that fail all fails,” it is, I cannot but think, a lamentable
failure. It is, however, animated by the loftiest purpose,
as it is pregnant with the noblest eloquence.

The play opens with the transfer of authority by the
Duke, and with an explanation of the trust thus confided
to the unworthy deputy. From the deposition and
acceptance of this power, to the end of the play, scarcely
an expression falls that does not refer to the influence for
good and evil, thus vested, thus to be abused. It con-
trasts man’s rule with divine government. How—

“ Man, proud man,
Dressed in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,
His glassy essence—like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep.”

The play revolves round this title of “Measure for
Measure,” of man’s measure and the Christian measure,
without divergence, as closely as if it were an acted
charade, or a sermon to this text. r

Mr. G. A. Brown, in 1838, prior to the publication of
M. Ulzici’s book, and without regard to any hypothesis,
remarked, “unless we could believe that Shakspere could
write a long dramatic treatise on a subject without in-
tending it, unless, in fact, he knew not what he was about
we ought to regard the fable of “Measure for Measure,” as
adopted by him for the purpose of canvassing the argument
on chastity and incontinence.” M. Ulrici proceeds much
further, and in illustration of a preconceived theory,
analyses the play, not as different from other plays of
Shakspere in this particular, but as one of many, subject
to the same laws of composition. To a system by which

113

the arrangement of plot and design, characters and lan-
guage are subordinated to the discussion and illustra-
tion of some great moral truth, or the series of truths
dependent thereon. That this rule sits ever above that
ideal beauty of structure supposed to be the crowning
glory of created work. Like a vertebrated backbone.
running through all the diverse characters and situations,
uniting them by a common motive, with one purpose—
maintaining vitality, preserving vigour, diffusing health,
energy, command, from the seat of life itself. The human
agents move in seeming confusion, but in perfect order
in deference to law, like a swarm of fireflies now tangled
in a braid, and anon flying out into the darkness as sparks
struck from a common centre.

In this text of usurped honour, without that grace
which should wait- upon authority, of humility without
faith, or in the aspect which M. Ulrici prefers translating
it, whose true sense is that of the beautiful petition in
the prayer—‘“ Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive
them that trespass against us’—lies the unity and
consistency of the play. Not the merely external and
superficial semblance of order—but that diviner order,
superior to all art—which binds the play together in
harmony, and which imparts to it the noblest, because a
purely moral, grandeur and dignity of design. The
general burden of the story is so strictly diffused, that the
play seems the only practicable or possible illustration of
its meaning—the only means of conveying or expressing
in its different aspects, a text which it would be otherwise
impossible to fully represent. There is always a certain
amount of falsehood or inaccuracy, in the ordinary expres-
sion of any moral idea. Such ideas are indeed incapable
of direct statement. In this it is the Shaksperean Drama,
finds its meaning and justification; the moral idea which
must always remain ariddle in words, is soluble in action,

15

114

In conclusion, whether we consider the plays of Shak-
spere merely as dramatic monuments, or as wonderful
essays in dramatic form, illustrating the noble morality,
derived from Christianity, we must consider them no less
wonderful than unique as intellectual achievements. Their
daring disregard of encumbering classic rules, their ready
adoption of every phase of action by which the free will
of Christian belief can be illustrated, prove their right
to be recognised as complete an embodiment, of a perfect
art, as the cathedrals of the middle ages of gothic archi-
tecture. If, beyond this, we suppose them to possess a
noble strain of morality, and to have for their purpose the
doctrinal inculeation of great truths, we must assign to
them that position in our honour and reverence, which
they have long held in our affection and admiration. In
its illustration of that best study of mankind—man—it is
perfect. Its originality is not less wonderful. Jt is the
only branch of literature that is native, and to the manner
born—the only heir of our invention begotten to us. Our
histories, biographies, architecture, painting, sculpture,
oratory, are all founded on antique models, or directly
imitated from them. Shakspere’s drama is irreproach-
ably English. There is no counterpart beyond the seas.
Newton’s genius is not as purely our own. His modes
of deduction had been practised by inferior minds before
and since. His instruments, the mathematics,-were com-
mon to all ages and races of men. His results have been
verified as his wisdom can be traced; but, in the words
of Mr. Emerson, Shakspere’s mask is impenetrable—“ He
was inconceivably wise—all other men conceivably ; we
can in some sort nestle into the mind of Plato, and think
from thence, but by no means from that of Shakspere.”
Reverently looking at what he has bequeathed us—at its
literary originality and completeness—at the external and
seeming dissonance, so profoundly united into harmony and

115

aconcord of sweet sounds, by subtle principles of design,
no less wise than mysterious—we must, I think, be con-
vinced that reverent criticism is alone admissible. In the
great world to which these piays assume to hold the
mirror, we frequently perceive the existence of apparent
incongruities and defects; either from a part only of the
chain of which these form a link being disclosed, or from
inability to understand what is seen without the key of
that which is concealed, and our criticism is often tempted
into a spirit of doubt as unjust as it is erroneous. A
similar disposition and presumption with Shakspere is no
less likely to lead us astray. His plays are as truly to me
inapproachable in their moral as in their intellectual,
poetic, or artistic aspects.

Nearly all the later dramas will be found to have a dis-
tinct theme of religious and Christian import, to indicate
their moral dignity. An unceasing purpose runs through
their story, disproving absolutely all that the Reviewer
urges, and that no consideration of expediency affected
the poet. So far from his life being that of a mere
theatrical manager’s—writing dramas whose preliminary
purpose was to please—I prefer believing, with M. Ulrici,
that his was a genuine poet’s life, wholly devoted to free
poetic creation and the gradual development of his art;
and being, moreover, animated by the most heroic reli-
gious spirit that the middle ages present to us. If it is
legitimate to the most exact reasoning to infer from con-
struction the existence of design, it is no less legitimate
to infer the character of that design. Accepting such an
axiom, we must be convinced, on investigation, that he
was not a wild and inexperienced genius, nor a man of
weak resolves and ambition; but that he was the greatest,
the most laborious architect, the most noble designer,
the most pure-minded and Christian poet, that the world
has yet known.

116

For myself, owing to the largeness of my subject, I can
but express my regret at the imperfection of what I now
urge. Without hoping to do justice even to my own belief,
I have attempted to record some of my convictions,
and can only apologise that they are not more worthy of
the subject.

I look upon the poet as one who wrote, believing him-
self immortal ; as one who, in first conceiving the most
perfect aspect of feminine loveliness, taught virtue. For to
create an image of purity is to teach purity. As one who
worked in his master’s eye ; as the best translator of the
Christian doctrine,—the noblest interpreter of its law,
scattering its spirit without reference to sect or party.
Offending no scruples, he appealed to all, on the merits of
those truths which all men equally agree to hold and
honour. On the subjects of Authority, Mercy, Benefi-
cence, Female Virtue, Purity, Chastity, Selfishness com-
bined with Intellect, the Spirit and the Letter of the Law,
Self-denial, Ambition,—on all these texts his sermons are
the best extant.

He shot the clear light of his intellect into those
mysterious depths of gloom and melancholy that most try
the philosophy of the thinker, and shew that increase of
wisdom is indeed increase of sorrow. He was the light
of the new reformation, rising resplendent on that old
horizon of prelatism and feudal law. He lit all that
was excellent in the old chivalry, its splendour and
picturesqueness, its love of poetry, and of nature, into
new beauty by his beams. The old rule of might was at
an end; and though the progress of the truth was to be
slow, its sun had not less arisen. Its light, borrowed from
another sphere, was radiated with a warmth and glow
suited to the race it was to cheer and cherish. As we
feel the glory ot the sun, not by looking at the great orb
itself, but by the splendour it sheds abroad, the lands it

117

illumines, the wealth it diffuses, the forces it generates,
the vitality it quickens, the colour it imparts, we perceive
more the value of what he taught, in his teaching, than in
its direct manifestation and simplicity. That as the sun
veiled, the sun reflected, refracted, broken into dazzling
rays, shed abroad in polarized effulgence, scattered and
diffused in mellow and subtle tints, is most beautiful to
the eye and to the heart of man; the doctrines which
Shakspere teaches and illustrates are best seen in their
beauty, their delicacy, gradation, and tint, in his exposi-
tion ; and of Him, finally, I would say, with the poet :—
“In my mind’s eye a temple like a cloud,

Slowly surmounting some invidious hill,

Rose out of darkness. The bright work stood still,

And might of its own beauty have been proud.

But it was fashioned, and to God was vowed

By virtues that diffused in every part,

Spirit divine, through forms of human art.”

In an animated discussion which followed, it was re-
marked by Mr. Brooks, that the most beautiful touches
of truth and morality pervaded Shakspere’s works from
one end to the other. They contained, certainly, expres-
sions which would not be tolerated in any writer of
the present day; but allowance must be made for the
language of the age, and the usages of society in the
reign of Elizabeth. They must also recollect another
thing—there were no insidious recommendations of vice
in Shakspere. It was seen in its naked deformity ; no
voluptuousness of language was visible. Shakspere’s
originality and knowledge of human nature were the ad-
miration of all readers. Two illustrations might be
given: in “ King Lear,” while the pretended madman,
Edgar, rambled on, the real madman, Lear, was always
recurring to his cause of grief. The other was the admi-
rable introduction of a pause. A writer it was remarked,

118

who did not know so much as Shakspere did, would
most probably have introduced some bombastic speech
instead ; but the poet left it, by this pause, to the imagi-
nation to fill up what was passing in the speaker’s mind:
War. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin.
Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.
King Henry. Peace to his soul, if God’s good pleasure be!
Lord Cardinal, if thou think’st on Heaven’s bliss,
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.— [Pause.]
He dies and makes no sign; O God forgive him!
War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
King Henry. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
Close up his eyes, and draw the curtains close ;
And let us all to meditation,
Henry VI. act vit. sc. 3.

The Rev. H. H. Hiaeins took the natural view of
Shakspere’s defects, as resembling those which were
found in the works of other great men. They must be
content to see something of inconsistency in those whom
they most ardently admired. He could not but think
that there were blemishes in Shakspere, in the shape of
yielding too much to the prevailing taste of the times;
but there was also an undercurrent of high and even
religious feeling, something more than mere natural reli-
gion—something higher and truer—something of the
religion that had come from heaven itself—that imbued
a large portion of his works, and was not less true be-
cause not obtrusively placed before the reader.

119

EIGHTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Royat Instirution, 8th February, 1858.
DR. INMAN, PRESIDENT, in the Chair.

The following gentlemen were elected Ordinary
Members :—

Mr. Wituiam Keira.
» JABEZ JONES.

Mr. ANDREW communicated some personal observations
on the recent eruption of Vesuvius, in support of the
chymical theory of volcanic action.

In consequence of a public meeting, held in the same
building, for the formation of the Liverpool Society of
Fine Arts, on the motion of Dr. Inner, the Society
adjourned till the 15th inst.

On that night a paper was read to the Society, of
which the following is an abstract :—

ON INTERNATIONAL ARBITRATION.
By WILLIAM IHNE, Esq., Pu.D., V.P.

Tue rapid development of the means of intercommunica-
tion has changed the relations of the nations of the world
to such an extent, that the old forms of diplomatic inter-
course between one people and another are no longer
sufficient. Europe is fast tending to become commercially,
economically, intellectually, and morally one uniform
community which requires a system of law and govern-
ment based upon generally acknowledged principles, and
administered by a generally acknowledged authority;
not to absorb or obliterate the individual notionalities,
but to regulate and facilitate their intercourse and to

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settle the differences which must necessarily result from
the wonderful activity of that intercourse. Treaties for
special purposes, congresses for the settlement of occa-
sional disputes must give way to general laws and some
permanent authority. What has been accomplished to a
certain extent by the several systems of confederation
among different branches of the Teutonic stock, must be
perfected and extended all over the world.

The greatest difficulty lies in the inequality of the
different states. It would be absurd to organize a federal
authority in which a powerful state like England, or
Russia, should have no more influence than Sweden, or
Belgium. A certain scale must be fixed upon analagous
to the real strength of each state. England, France,
Russia, Austria, and America, might rank equally high ;
states like Prussia and Turkey in the second line; Spain,
Sweden, Naples, Sardinia, in the third, and so on; and
the number of votes of each state should be regulated so
as to ensure an equitable balance of influence. Mathe-
matical precision is unattainable, but a workable approx-
imation to the real nature of things may be hoped for.

A permanent court, composed of ambassadors of all
states who voluntarily join such a confederation should
regulate all international relations, subject, in the last
instance, to the consent of the legislature of each state.

In cases of differences or dispute, the court should
give its decision on the question of right. The moral
force would be great, and in all but extreme cases
sufficient to ensure compliance. The appeal to force
would become less and less frequent; and though it
would perhaps be impossible to organize an international
executive, the confederated powers would stand pledged
to see the decision of the court carried out.

The effect would not be the immediate abolition of all
wars, but a prevention of the frequent collisions and

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hostile attitudes of nations against nations; minor dis-
putes would not so easily grow into serious conflicts, and
diplomatic considerations would be infused with some
considerations of justice. It would not be derogatory to
the most powerful state to submit to the decision of such
a court. The feeling of security would promote the
feeling of friendship and goodwill; the energies of all
nations would be more and more diverted into the
channels of useful industry, and directed to further the
grand interests common to all.

The scheme can be considered chimerical only, when
in its totality and completeness it is compared with the
present unsettled state of international affairs. But it is
quite possible to lay a foundation to such an international
court, which might by degrees be developed. If a few
of the leading states came to an understanding, many
would shortly follow, and we might hope to see the
beginning of a new eva in the history of Europe and
the world in which thinking men would look upon the
wars of France and England with the same feelings of
regret and pity as we do now on those waged for many
generations between England and Scotland.

NINTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Institution, 22nd February, 1858.
DR. INMAN, Present, in the Chair.

Mr. Rosert LirrLe was elected an Ordinary Member.
Ricuarp Brooks, Esq., F.S.A., exhibited the first report
16

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of The Liverpool Dispensary, published in the year 1799,
and made observations on the list of subscribers.
Papers were then read,

“On Preserved Minxs anp Mears,” by C. Brett, Esq.
in which that gentleman resumed the consideration of
the important scientific and practical question of
encasing various articles of food, so that they might
be kept in a fresh and nutritious condition for a number
of years. He opened, in illustration, several canisters of
milk, chocolate, eggs, and mutton, all of which were in
excellent preservation. [See page 65.]

“On A New Mernop or Manuracturine STEEL, by
Wit. Cray, Esq.

Before describing his process of making cheap steel,
Mr. Clay referred to that of manufacturing iron; the
ore being first taken from the blast furnace in the form of
“ pig-iron,” which was a composition of carbon and that
metal, and then refined by the puddling operations, by
which the carbon to a certain degree was removed and
“wrought iron” produced. To obtain steel a further
series of operations had to be gone through, carbon being
again united to the iron, but not in the original propor-
tions of the pig-iron. His object was to remove from
the pig-iron such a portion of carbon as would give it the
composition of steel, and the difficulty lay in removing
the necessary quantity. A plan for doing this had been
patented in 1850, an excellent wrought steel being pro-
duced.

Mr. Clay then explained his method of producing
puddled steel, and exhibited numerous specimens which
illustrated its strength, fracture, homogeneousness and
power to receive in the lathe avery high polish. He
considered it a metal exceedingly well adapted, from its

123

lightness, strength, and cheapness, for ship-building pur-
poses, and the permanent way and rolling stock of
railways.

TENTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Institution, 8th March, 1858.
The Rev. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A., Sen. V.P., in the Chair,

Attention was drawn to the approaching Solar Eclipse,
and the arrangements which had been made for members
going on to the central line of eclipse, on the Saturday
prior to the event.

The following paper was then read :—

ON THE INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON
THE ROMAN MATRIMONIAL LAW.

By CARL RETSLAG, Pua.D.Bertin;
PROFESSOR IN QuEEN’s COLLEGE, LIVERPOOL.

CHAPTER I.

Tue Eastern world of antiquity, with all the wonderful
productions of its fancy, startles us by its strangeness.
We must strain our mind and force our imagination in
order to understand its ideas, works, and actions. The
Greek life lies already nearer to us, its arts and literature
already seem to have proceeded from a spirit which is
more related to ours, We recognise in the public trans-
actions of that nation the sympathies and passions of our
own world. But even Greece, if we look deeper into
her private life, has still enough which is strange to us,

124

and which tastes of its Eastern origin. The rights of the
individual are still submerged in the laws and customs of
the state or community. That division within the indi-
vidual man—how far he belongs to society, and how far
he is his own empire—a division which forms the fun-
damental law of modern humanity, was still unknown in
Greece. The wisest legislation amongst the Greeks,
which approaches the nearest to our ideas,—that of
Solon—still encroaches in many parts on the autonomy
of the moral man. Religion, morals, and civil rights are
still unseparated. Therefore if Greece raised in the fine
arts the standard of taste, she was unable to lay down
rules for the civil intercourse of man with man. The
attempts which were made in Sparta, and even Athens,
to regulate this intercourse, excite by no means in us the
admiration which we are obliged to pay to their architec-
ture and sculpture ; nay, their jurisprudence often startles
us, as no less strange than the Pyramids of Egypt.
According to tradition, the Romans have fetched their laws
of the Twelve Tables from Greece; but Gibbon says justly,
that, “in all the great lines of public and private jurispru-
dence the legislators of Rome and Athens appear to be
strangers, or adverse to each other;” an opinion with
which even the Greek Dionysius Halicarnassensis so far
agrees, that he owns the superiority of the Roman law.
The legislation of Lycurgus, Dracon, and Solon, says
Cicero, appear “dnconditum ac peene ridiculum,” in compa-
rison with the Twelve Tables.

If we had to fix with one word the place which we
would accord to Rome in the history of civilization,
we should say it was Rome who first separated civil
law from religion and morality, and abolished therewith
a confusion in the relations of man, which retarded so
much the progress of his civilization. Rome was the
first state that freed the civil man from the fetters of

125

religious and moral precepts, and assigned to religion
and morality the inner man. By this separation religion
and morality gained as much as it was now possible, to
place the civil relations of man upon a reasonable, truly
humane basis.

The greatest glory and the boldest step of the Romans,
in the history of civilization, is their jurisprudence.
The fine arts of Rome, her architecture, sculpture,
literature, are only more or less successful imitations of
Greece; her conquests are destroyed, her roads and
aqueducts lie in dust and ruins, but the principles which
she has laid down for the mewn and tuwm, and for the
regulation of the family, live still, and will live as long
as the world abhors the maxims of communism. “ The
vain titles of the victories of Justinian are crumbled into
dust, but the name of the legislator is inscribed on a fair
and everlasting monument,” says Gibbon.

The Romans were no deep philosophers. Their ideas
about the nature of the Deity and her relations to man
are superficial reflections, or pale copies of Greek specu-
lation; but their mind was peculiarly adapted to pene-
trate the entangled relations of the practical world.
Their views were more minute than elevated. This
power of their mind fitted them above all former nations
to regulate the social world in its material transactions.
Rome was thus destined, if I dare say so, to complete
Christianity. What Christianity has done for the inner
man, Rome did for the outer man. Nay, we are almost
inclined to say, Rome, the heathen Rome, christianized
the relations of man to man, as far as these relations do
not belong to the purely moral and religious world. The

?

three “ pracepta juris” of heathen Rome, “ honeste vivere,
alterwm non ledere, suum cuique tribuere,’ waited only for
the addition of the great Christian precept, “love your

neighbour as yourself,” to complete the great fundamental
+

126

laws for the relation of man towards man in his moral
as well as social bearing.

When the Roman Emperors adopted Christianity and
raised it to the state-religion of Rome, the new religious
mistress found a world, which in morals formed the very
counterpart to its own precepts, but if she looked beyond
the province of morality into the business of the social
world, she met very little that was opposed to her views,
or that she could not adopt as proceeded from her own
spirit, unless we consider the communism of the first
Christian societies as an essential Christian institution. It
was a Christian Emperor who, after the spirit of Christi-
anity had already developed itself for upwards of five
hundred years in its bearing upon the practical world,
could do no better, in order to establish the principles of
justice in harmony with Christianity, than to adopt “ Jn
nomine domint nostri Jesu Christi” as the procenium to the
code of Justinian says, the same laws by which heathen
Rome was governed, and Christian bishops and fathers
of the church, decrying the philosophy and literature of
the heathen Greeks and Romans, acknowledge gladly the
wisdom and justice of a Papinian, Ulpian, Paulus, or Gajus.

But the laws of heathen Rome, as they were adopted
and sanctioned by the Christian Emperor Justinian, were
the result of a gradual development, in which a great
many internal and external powers and influences were
at work ever since the first laws of Romulus and Numa
Pompilius. We cannot, therefore, agree with Gibbon,
who says:—‘ During four centuries, from Hadrian to
Justinian, the public and private jurisprudence was
moulded by the will of the sovereign; and few institu-
tions, either human or divine, were permitted to stand
on their former basis.” To be sure, the maxims of the
Roman jurisprudence received in the second and third

centuries after Christ, especially under the Emperors
=

127

Hadrian, the Antonines, and Alexander Severus that
final form, in which they were adopted by Justinian ;
but these maxims were neither moulded by the will of
the Emperors, nor had they an altogether different basis
from those before Hadrian. The private jurisprudence
at least has grown by gradual development, which now
and then assumes the aspect of a more visible change, as
in the Twelve Tables, and at the end of the republic.
Almost all the great nations of antiquity commenced
their public career by a great strictness of morals, and
severity and ceremoniousness of manners, so the Per-
sians, the Eeyptians, and amongst the Greeks, especially
the Spartans. Thus when Rome was but a small com-
munity, whose existence and independence depended
upon unity; and when this unity amongst at least three
different tribes could only be enforced by strict laws,
these Jaws assumed a peculiar Roman and narrow charac-
ter, and were surrounded by national prejudices and reli-
gious ceremonies. When a new nationality is forming in
the history of mankind, the people are naturally full of
prejudices and views, which distinguish this new nation
from her surrounding neighbours. Upon the strength of
these prejudices the national courage and the national
pride seem to rest. Every marked nationality has ‘thus,
especially at the beginning of its life, marked prejudices,
and the smaller this nationality is, the more it will lock
itself up against foreign influence, and the more one-
sided and narrow-minded its institutions will be. The
first laws of Rome, as comprehended in her jus sacrum,
are full of stiff, ceremonious, and superstitious forms. As
in the East, and as in Greece, religious superstitions per-
vaded the whole law, and brought the civil justice under
the rule of priests and augurs. But when Rome was
enlarged by conquests, and the town itself grew by the
influx of foreigners, the stiff forms of the ancient laws

128

became daily more inconvenient and unfit for the more
complicated affairs. Then arose at the side of the old
law a new one with more liberal principles, and the
whole juridical world was divided into two. The jus
honorarium was then created, and the principles of the jus
geutium gained daily more ground from. the stiff and cere-
monious jus civile. This division goes through all the
branches of the law, and established especially two
almost antagonistic principles for the two great pillars of
society—property and family. At the side of a quiritian
property a bonitarian property arose, and the old marriage
by confarreatio, with its manus and patria potestas, was op-
posed by more liberal forms of matrimony. Whether these
two principles, the struggle of which formed the history
of the Roman laws down to Justinian, germinated already
in the composition of the Roman community, so that the
Sabinians introduced the grave, ceremonious, and religi-
ous element, and the livelier Latins brought the liberal,
progressing, and rational part with themselves; or
whether the enlargement of the town and the immigra-
tion of foreigners alone originated the liberal principles,
which are already visible in the earliest days of Rome, is
now impossible to decide. Both these powers were very
likely at work to free Roman jurisprudence from all nar-
row national forms, and make it the foundation of the
jurisprudence of the world. The more wrong Gibbon is,
when he ascribes the change in the foundation of the
Roman private law to the will of some Emperors. The
public law was, of course, changed and moulded by the
will of the Emperors, who placed gradually despotic
institutions on the ruins of the republic; but this change
was already, though cautiously, commenced by Augustus.
The private jurisprudence, on the contrary, underwent a
gradual development, especially since the Twelve Tables
down to the great Justinian code ; and whatever change

129

took place, this change was certainly not brought about
by the mere arbitrary will of the Emperors, but by the
equity of the Preetors and the wisdom of the Jurispru-
dentes.

In the first period of Roman jurisprudence public law
entirely ruled the private. This public law, as jus sacrum,
still bore the religious and moral character, by which all
the eastern nations, and even Greece, confounded reli-
gion, law, and morality. The Twelve Tables were the
first attempt to give to private law an independent posi-
tion, and free it from the fetters of the jus sacrum. The
political history of Rome goes, of course, hand in hand
with her legal history. By the increase of political
power, which the plebeians obtained gradually through
the increase of their number by the enlargement of the
town, the jus gentiwm pushed the narrow and inconvenient
Jus civile out of many legal relations. It was the jus hono-
rarium, that is to say, the power of the Preetors, which
first wrought a fundamental change in the principles of
the private law. The Pretor protected, as far as his
power went, the Roman citizen from the rigorous conse-
quences of the civil law, and prevented the realization of
the maxim “ fiat justitia, pereat mundus.” But amongst all
sources from which Roman private jurisprudence derived
its life and its greatness, the “ d¢nterpretatio prudentum” is
the most important; and if we have to point out one
source as pre-eminent, we cannot but say, that not the
will of the Emperors, but the wisdom of the great
lawyers has moulded the private jurisprudence of Rome.
One glance at the great Justinian collection will convince
us how far more important the sentences of Papinian,
Ulpian, Paulus, Gajus, Modestinus, &c., have been than
all the constitutions of the Emperors.

Nothing shews so much the spirit by which the gradual
development of the Roman laws was animated as the

Le

150

change in the matrimonial conditions. Nowhere is the
hiberalising influence of the jus gentiwm clearer than in the
way in which it gradually abolished the old religious
marriage by confarreatio, and brought about, what modern
lawyers are accustomed to call the looseness in entering
upon matrimony which distinguished the latter periods
of the Roman empire.

Matrimony is decidedly religious in its essential charac-
ter; it is a condition which lies beyond the frontiers of
civil society. This the Roman lawyers felt well, when
they said that “ maris et femine conjugatio, quam nos matri-
monium appellamus,’ descends from the “jus naturale, and
the definition which the heathen lawyer, Modestinus, gives
of marriage, has scarcely been surpassed in delicacy of
feelings by any medieval church-father or modern divine
and philosopher. ‘“ Nuptiw, he says, sunt conjunctio maris
et femine, et consortium omnis vite, divini et humani juris com-
municatio.’ \Vhen matrimony is thus a merely religious
condition in its essential point, it has on the other side
external relations which belong to the province of civil
society. These external relations of matrimony fall
under the jurisdiction of the civil law. Matrimony thus
becomes in the same time a civil institution, whilst its
roots, as is poetically said, lie in heaven. ‘These external
relations civil law must regulate according to the sacred
character of matrimony itself, but only these external
relations; and it has to take care that none of its regula-
tions and orders touch this sacred character itself.

It has been in modern times a matter of dispute,
whether the conclusion of a marriage ought to be a mere
civil act, or whether the stamp of religion is necessary
for its completion. The general, deep-rooted feeling of
mankind manifests a decided favour of religious par-
ticipation, if not sanction; it shews that an internal
though indistinct conviction is alive in man, that the true

151

character in married life is religious and not political,
and belongs to a higher world than the business of
civil society.

Amogst all the nations who have a national religion
the conclusion of a marriage is one of the most solemn
religious acts; and I think there are few primitive and
uncivilized nations who do not surround a wedding with
a variety of religious ceremonies. Amongst the Greeks
the betrothed sacrificed to Hymen. In the first days of
Rome, when religion ruled all the civil relations of man,
the conclusion of a marriage was solemnized with the
the greatest religious awe, though we are now-a-days
not able to understand the solemnity of the scene.
Whilst the priest was performing the sacrifice the bride
and bridegroom were sitting upon sheepskins and eating
salt-cakes. Yet Plinius says of this singular form of mar-
riage, which was called confarreatio: “in sacris nihil reli-
gisius confarreationis vinculo erat.” 'This marriage, con-
cluded in presence of ten witnesses, could not be dis-
solved, for the so-called diffareatio was no divorce.
Though the moral foundation of the confarreatio was like
the Christian idea of matrimony as developed in the
catholic church, and fixed by the Council of Trent, its
political consequences breathe still the spirit of eastern
patriarchal despotism. The two principal effects of the
confarreatio were the manus and the patria potestas. The
authority which the manus gave to the husband over his
wife, was almost without limits. If the law seemed to
presume that the exercise of this authority would be
tempered by conjugal affection, maritalis affectio, which
was considered as the necessary condition of matrimony
it forgot that law has to provide for the weakness
and perversity of man. The manus was a terrible
instrument in the hands of a brutal husband which he
could use short of the very murder of his wife. In this

132

only he was restricted by a family council, which decided
over life and death of the unfortunate female. The Roman
historians relate several examples of such family-courts,
especially Livius, lib. xxxix. cap. 18., in the affairs of the
Bachanalia, That the wife had no property of her own
was a matter of course in such a slavery. Still more
oppressive for the children was the unbounded power of
the patria potestas ; even murder was not excepted from
the rights of the father over his children. The patria
potestas was the more inconvenient for the son, as not his
coming of age or getting married, but only the death of
the father or emancipation, could deliver him from it.
The peculium castrense was the only exception from the
power of a father whose son gained property as a soldier
in the field.

However, I have already mentioned, that in the
earliest institutions of Rome two principles are visible,
the struggle of which might be traced through the
whole history of the Roman law up to Justinian.
Thus the confarreatio seemed to have been restricted to
the patricians already in the earliest times, and to have
belonged to that jus sacrum which the patricians con-
sidered as the peculiar law of their caste. Whether this
ceremony is of Sabine or Latin origin is of little import-
ance to us, yet I think there can be little doubt that it is
by far more in accordance with the spirit of the Sabinian
laws, than with that of the livelier and more soldier-like
Latins. The Plebeian families, who settled in Rome,
belonging to other tribes, had certainly different religious
rites, and could not adopt a ceremony which had for
them no meaning and no religious solemnity. People
generally are in nothing more particular than in adopt-
ing a ceremony which differs in the slightest from their
accustomed rites. We might more easily impose upon
them a new doctrine than a new ceremony. Yet it is not

153

likely that the Plebeians married without any forms,
political or religious; and that at the side of so much
grave ceremoniousness of the Patricians the utter law-
lessness should have existed amongst the other orders, as
we are accustomed to read in the legal histories of
Rome. I am inclined to believe that different forms of
marriage, or rather different ceremonies in concluding a
marriage, have existed amongst the early Plebeians of
Rome, which they brought with them from their former
homes.

The whole internal history of Rome shews us the
importance in which the family was held, and how her
political institutions were based upon the gens and familia,
so that it is impossible to believe that marriages were en-
tered upon in Rome in such a loose and formless way, in
which it is so often represented. The lawyers who
studied the legal and social history of Rome, observed
that there was no law which fixed any certain form for
entering upon a married life, and they drew the conclu-
sion, that the marriages were therefore devoid of every
form. But we find traces enough in the Roman social
history that there existed many forms, yet that these
forms, descended perhaps from different tribes who immi-
grated into Rome, lived on rather as customs than as
laws. The state, after the old religion had lost its
power over the legislation, did not venture to touch and
to fix legal forms for an institution which it considered as
not properly belonging to the province of law; but it
recognised matrimony whenever it saw that a man and a
woman had the intention to live as husband and wife.

The maritalis affectio was the principle by which it dis-
tinguished matrimony from the other connections of man
and woman. Under whatever forms this maritalis affectio
was to be declared, the state left to the consciences of
the individuals or to time-honoured customs.

154

A strict matrimony, as it is called, was then in earlier
times, we are told, concluded by the Plebeians in two
ways, of which at least the first was not denuded of all
solemnities—by coemptio and usus. The coemptio wasa kind
of sale in presence of five persons, who were to be Roman
citizens and of age. The coemptio seems originally to
have formed a part of the confarreatio, and to have become
an independent ceremony through King Servius, whose
endeavour it was to set aside the old religious forms of
the law, and to replace them by monetary transactions.
By the coemptio the wife became mater-familias. The
civil effects of such a marriage were the same as those of
the confarreatio, as far as regards the manus and the patria
potestas ; the difference was, that a marriage by coemptio
could be dissolved. The third, the most unceremonious
way of getting married, was that by wsus. By usus the
man acquired his wife, so to say, by prescription. If a
woman went to the house of a man and lived there with
him for a full year, the man acquired the rights of a hus-
band over her, especially the manus ; but it is understood
that she came to him and he received her with conjugal
affection. It was a principal feature in the strict matri-
mony—and the other matrimony, the matrimonium juris
gentium, was not known in the earliest days of Rome—
that the wife was held in ¢utela by the husband. She
had no civil rights, no property; she was in fact, like
the filia-familias,a part of the family under the unrestricted
dominion of the husband, subjected to any treatment or
punishment he liked to inflict upon her, capital punish-
ment excepted. A family was an empire in itself, in
which the pater-familias was the despot, and might be
the tyrant, secluded from any interference of the state.
A woman who came once in manum of a Roman husband,
had no other weapons to defend her rights as a human
being than those female arms, by means of which she

135

still conquers to-day the wildest man. If those arms
failed, she not seldom revenged outraged humanity by
poison. The position which the woman had in the early
days of Rome, was still the eastern slavery; but it was
reserved for Rome to raise the woman to a condition in
which she could be an independent companion of the
man, if not his equal.

The slavery to which the manus condemned the
Roman wives, could not last long amongst the high-
spirited Roman ladies; and though the husbands were the
legislators, the home-influence upon these became soon
visible in the way in which that terrible power was first
restricted by law, and afterwards abolished by custom.
The Twelve Tables ordered already that, when the year
in which a woman had lived with a man was interrupted
by an absence of three nights, the prescription was inter-
rupted, and the man did not acquire the manus.

An element which contributed powerfully to the intro-
duction of liberal principles in the Roman jurisdiction in
general, as particularly in the matrimonial law, was the
great caste and national pride of the early Romans. The
haughtiness of the Patricians could not bear to share the
same laws with the Plebeians; and the Roman citizens in
general, whether Patricians or Plebeians, scorned to allow
the foreign new comers to participate in their jus civile,
The spirit which the Romans shewed, thus in allowing
the foreign immigrants, or the subjected nations, to pre-
serve as much as possible their own laws and customs, is
less the result of liberality than ot narrow-mindedness.
The introduction of a jus gentium in Rome, is due to this
Roman haughtiness. It then so happened, that this jus
gentium gained more and more ground, not only in trans-
actions of the peregrini, and of the peregriné with Romans,
but amongst the Roman citizens themselves. This jus
gentium, ased upen a broader, more liberal, and rational

136

basis, first influenced and at last almost overthrew the jus
cwile. It was by the influence of this jus that the history
of Roman jurisprudence manifested the general tendency
to release the laws from narrow and oppressive forms,
and to establish them on principles which are founded on
so broad a basis that they, long after the downfall of
Rome, could be adopted by almost all nations and all
ages. A constant march is visible towards legal condi-
tions, which, unrestricted by national prejudices, rest
upon the broad foundations of human justice and reason.

The spirit of Christianity releases the woman from the
slavery in which she was held in the east, and even in
Greece, and places her at the side of the man, as his
companion and his equal. The Roman law declares that
the wife is the consort of the whole life of the husband,
and shares all his divine and human rights. Was
Modestinus, who gave that definition of matrimony,
influenced by the spirit of Christianity which was then
active, though not dominant, in different provinces of
the Roman Empire; or is it that the development of
the Roman world led naturally to principles which are
so much in accordance with Christianity ?

It is a singular coincidence, that whilst in the east the
followers of Christ propagated the religious and moral
doctrines which were to rule the future world, the
Roman lawyers brought to a final form the great princi-
ples of justice, by which the greatest number of the Chris-
tian nations should be governed. And yet these very
same lawyers were all animated by a great hostility to-
wards the new religion.

The matrimonium juris gentium, or the free matrimony
without the manus, began about the time of the Twelve
Tables. This matrimony took at first only place with
intermarriages between foreigners and Romans; but as it
was free from the inconvenient regulations of the manus,

137

the Roman ladies preferred, of course, this new marriage to
the old form, which subjected them to such a slavery ;
and as the ladies, if not afterwards, exercise, at least as
brides, a paramount influence over the gentlemen, the
free marriage gained, by degrees, ground even with mar-
riages amongst Roman citizens, the more so, as the hus-
band too had the advantage of easily getting rid of a
wife of whom he had got tired. If we are on the one
side astonished, that after the old religious ceremonies
had disappeared, no new forms were fixed by law for an
institution which was of such wide civil consequences,
we must not forget that there were in Rome already, and
much more in the wide-spread Roman provinces, many
customs which were preserved down to the latest times
of the Roman empire, and that the law, whenever a
question about a marriage was mooted, acknowledged
these customs as manifestations of the maritalis affectio.
As there existed in Rome, besides the matrimonium, the
concubinatus and the contubernium, two institutions lega-
lized by the state, which might have been confounded,
but which had far different civil effects, for instance, for
the rang of the children and the condition of inheritance,
it was necessary to fix a principle by which the legitimate
marriage was recognised. This principle was not an ex-
ternal judicial form, but an internal, moral condition.
Ulpian says, “non enim coitus matrimonium facit, sed
maritalis affectio. Whenever this maritalis affectio was
manifested, as we mentioned already before, and by what
ceremonious forms or customs it was manifested, accord-
ing to the conscience or will of the contracting parties,
the Roman law acknowledged matrimony. The legal
prejudice was so much in favour of the matrimonium that,
whenever two persons of different sex lived together,
who were both not slaves, the law presumed the maritalis

affectio, and treated the alliance as a legal matrimony
18

138

But amongst the many forms, in entering married life,
which have existed in the Roman empire down to the
latest times, we recognise especially the following.

The conjugal affection which arises between two per-
sons of different sex, manifests itself first in the consense
of the parties to live as husband and wife. “ Sponsalia,
sicut nuptiw, consensu contrahentium fiunt,’ was the rule
pronounced by Julian, and adopted by Justinian in the
Pandects. This consense was generally first declared by
the betrothal, Sponsalia, which were still in use* in that
part of Italy, which is called Latium; as Aulus Gellius
quotes from a work of Servius Sulpicius de dotibus. In
these Sponsalibus the sponsus promised that he would
marry the woman, and the father, or whoever had the
power over the woman, promised that he would give
the sponsa in marriage ; and a fine could be imposed by
the judge upon him who broke off the engagement with-
out justa causa. This fine was abolished in later years,
till an arrha, a kind of earnest money, was given at the
sponsalibus, which the party lost that broke off the
engagement.

Another way of recognising a legitimate marriage was
offered by the transactions of the dos, which preceded
the marriage.

In some instances we find that a declaration of the con-
tracting parties before witnesses, that the union upon which
they entered was a real matrimony, and not a concubinatus,
was necessary. So the lex Delia Sentia orders, that if a
liberated slave, who cannot get the civitas on account of
not being thirty years of age, marries a civis Romana or a
Latina, declares this marriage before seven Roman
citizens who are of age, and gets then a child, and this
child is a year old, he can demand from the Preetor to

* About 90 before Christ.

139

give to him, his wife and the child, the rights of Roman
citizens.

The deductio in domum is often considered as a necessary
ceremony for commencing matrimony; but though it
seems to have been a usual ceremony, as well as the
declaration before friends, inter amicos, it was by no means
necessary for the legal completion of the marriage, yet it
was another act by which a legitimate matrimony was
proved, and from which it was counted in point of time.

The lawyer Scevola, who lived under Marcus Aurelius,
says, In a quotation in the Pandects, in speaking about a
donation, whether it was made after or before the mar-
riage, “priusquam ad eum transiret (that is to say, the
virgo) et priusquam aqua et igni acciperetur, id est, nuptie
celebrentur” (Dig. xxiv. tit. 1.), it seems, therefore, that
the ceremony of giving water and fire, the two principle
elements as a sign for the “consortium omnis vite” was
still in use in the latter part of the second century after
Christ, and formed, together with the “ deductio in domum,”
the general way of entering married life. The receiving
of water and fire played formerly a part in the religious
ceremony of the confarreatio ; but this confarreatvo was no
longer customary at the time of Augustus, except with
the marriage of some flamines, some of the highest priests.

The Romans, or rather the inhabitants of the Roman
empire, therefore, it is certain, did not even in the latest
ante-Christian era, enter generally so unceremoniously
upon the bond of marriage; for even some religious rites
were preserved amongst the heathen subjects of Rome
as late as the time of Marcus Aurelius, when already
Christianity began to spread her communities in the
eastern parts of the Roman empire. It might be sup-
posed that, when Constantine planted Christianity upon
the throne of the Caesars, this new religion would have
had nothing more eagerly to do than to change entirely

140

an institution which is so closely connected with religion.
We might fancy that it would have been the first
business of the Christian bishops to urge on the civil
government the necessity of submitting matrimony to the
regulations of the church. But though several of the
first Christian emperors issued unimportant changes in
the laws about the relationship of the married parties,
none thought of introducing a fixed form for the mar-
riage. Justinian, though he pronounced matrimony to
be a mere civil contract, was the first who attempted to
connect it legally with the church.

In a novel of the year 538 he ordered that all persons
belonging to the rank of a senator, or who could claim
the title “ dlustres” and upwards, should make written
pacta dotalia when concluding a marriage ; persons of less
rank, though not belonging to the lowest classes, should
go into an oratory and declare there, before the “ defensor
ecclesie,’ a kind of churchwarden, in presence of three or
four ecclesiastics, their intention to marry. But so strong
was in the Roman empire the idea that the wedding was
a mere private affair, with which public powers should
not meddle, that already, four years afterwards, Justinian
abolished again this order, as far as it concerns the
church, and only preserved the necessity of the written
pacta dotalia for the highest classes. This apparently
strange phenomenon is easily explained by the internal
condition of the Christian church itself. The Church of
Christ was still satisfied with the internal approbation
and the faith of man, and had not grown into a church
which appeared in the same time as a worldly institution,
adorned with worldly power and worldly glory. The
church of these ages had her dominion rather in the volun-
tary and hearty submission of man, than in the splendour
of her ceremonies and the terrestial power of her bishops.
It had always been the custom, in the first Christian

141

communities whose every-day actions were, to say, so
saturated with religious feelings that no betrothal took
place without the concurrence and sanction of the elders.
That this ecclesiastic or rather religious concurrence took
place more at the betrothal than at the wedding itself,
is a fact which manifests the conviction that the real
union of the persons commenced with their mutual con-
sense to belong to each other, and that the marriage, in a
mere religious point of view, is completed by that con-
sense. With this view, the contemporary heathen world
of Rome entirely agreed, as we have shewn. That which
was an internal religious want in the earlier times of
Christianity, became a habit in the later ages. Every
betrothal was then regularly announced to the Christian
clergy, and every marriage blessed by them. This ex-
plains the absence of any law, civil or ecclesiastic, that
commanded the sanction of religion for the marriage for
some time after Justinian, as the bishops had no need to
enforce by laws what was voluntarily and heartily given
to them; and the civil authorities were too much accus-
tomed to consider matrimony as a mere private contract,
based upon conditions which lie beyond the civil power.
When, after a further development of the worldly organi-
zation of the church, marriage and its relations came
under the ecclesiastic jurisdiction, a far greater importance
was still laid upon the publication of the bann and the
consecration of the betrothed, than upon the wedding
itself. If I am not mistaken, it is first in the wedding-
liturgies of the fifteenth century that we read the words
* when the
priest performed the proper act of copulation as proxy of
God, a long time after matrimony had been considered as
a sacrament in the church, though it was only legally
raised to that dignity in the Council of Trent.

“ego vos conjugo in matrimonium in nomine Det,

ELEVENTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Royat Instirution, 22nd March, 1858.
The Rev. H. Hiaains, M.A., Sen. V.P., in the Chair.

Professor ARCHER referred to recent valuable gifts to
the library of the Royal Institution.

Mr. Hiaeinson exhibited a specimen of aluminum, and
referred to the process of its manufacture.

The following paper was then read :—

ON THE FOSSILS OF PERIM ISLAND, IN THE
GULF OF CAMBAY.
By HENRY DUCKWORTH, Esa., F.G.S.

Perm is a small island in the Gulf of Cambay, ten
miles §.8.E. of Gogo, in lat. 21° 33’ N., and long. 72° 28’
E. It is one and a half to two miles in length, and a half
to three quarters of a mile in breadth. The most
elevated point is about sixty feet above high-water mark.

From the Kattiawar shores it is separated by a channel
five hundred feet in width, and seventy-five fathoms
deep. The average depth of the Gulf to the north and
elsewhere, is about fifty-five fathoms. There is a tradi-
tion current among the inhabitants of Gogo that Perim
was originally united to the main land by means of a
stone bridge. This would seem hardly probable, if we
take into consideration the width and depth of the imter-
vening channel at the present day; though certainly
there are appearances which, independently of the geolo-
gical evidence hereafter to be adduced, and which I
think conclusive, would justify the supposition that at
some very distant period there may have been a natural,

143

if not an artificial, connection. The beach on the western
side shelves very gradually, and at the lowest ebb of
spring tides the island appears as if separated from the
continent by a mere stream only. That the sea, too, has
been encroaching on all sides, is proved, I think, by the
fact that on the shore have been discovered two figures
of elephants, eight or nine feet in height, carved out of
the solid rock, and which, except at the very lowest
tides, are completely covered. There are also remains of
a stone structure running out into the sea, and somewhat
resembling a pier; but whether they have any connec-
tion with the apparently mythical bridge, it is impossible
to say.

The island is inhabited by four or five lascars,
and a few coolies; the former have charge of the light-
house, which stands on the highest ground, on the western
side; the latter live in a valley on the eastern coast,
open to the sea, and the only fertile spot: here they have
formed a settlement, and plant grain during the monsoon,
and manage, somehow or other, to exist in this dreary
land. Good fresh water is found about twenty feet be-
low the surface.

The only other living creatures besides human beings,
are, I think, peafowl, which abound, and are wonderfully
tame and fearless: no man’s hand is against them, for
they are deities. To kill a peacock were sacrilege—not
a breach of the game-laws.

The low muddy beach on the northern end is covered
with clumps of the melancholy mangrove tree ; the oppo-
site coast of Kattiawar I observed to be also fringed with it.
Remains of a temple with an image of Buddha in it, a
ruined fort and water tanks are to be seen, from which
it would appear that the island had been a considerable
stronghold some twelve or thirteen centuries ago.

144

GEOLOGY OF PERIM.

The various sandstones, clays, and conglomerates of
which Perim is composed, are to be referred to the
Miocene period of the Tertiary epoch. They are identi-
eal in general character with the ossiferous beds of the
Sivalik hills or Sub-Himmalayan range, with those of
Attock, on the banks of the Indus in the Punjab, and
with the Irrawaddi beds in Ava. We find their equiva-
lents in the Red Crag of Suffolk, in England ; in the Faluns
of Touraine; the Orleannais and Sub-Pyrenees in France;
the Vienna Basin on the Danube; and Eppelsheim on the
Rhine.

Major Fulljames, who seems thoroughly to have ex-
plored the island some fwenty years ago, was the first to
classify its various strata, and he has made them out
thus,* commencing from the surface :—

1. Loose sand and earth.

2. Conglomerate, composed of sandstone, clay,
and silex.

Yellow clay.

Conglomerate.

Calcareo, silicious sandstone, with a few fossils.

Conglomerate.

Indurated clay.

. Conglomerate, the principal ossiferous bed.

It is curious to observe how the conglomerates occur
alternately with the other strata. The deepest beds of
conglomerate are about three feet, but they do not run
more than eighteen inches to two feet, and for the most
part lie horizontally. The strata on the western side are
much disturbed, being fractured, and dipping at an acute
angle to the east. On the southern end of the island,

ND OUR &

oe)

* 4 Journal Asiatic Society of Bengal,’’ vol. v. page 289.

145

below the stratum in which the fossils occur, sandstone
appears, dipping to the north at an angle of 25°.

Through the decomposition of these rocks, dunes, or
sandhills, covering the whole island, appear to have been
formed. They are for the most part of very peculiar
shape and aspect. Dr. Lush seems to think that they
have proved a barrier to the further encroachment of the
sea.*

The lowest beds of conglomerate are composed of
nodules of sandstone, indurated clay, and a small propor-
tion of silex, cemented together with a yellow clay. On the
western side of the island it is entirely denuded through
the action of the sea, and it can, therefore, be examined
narrowly. The fossils and nodules imbedded in this
formation are constantly being washed out of the matrix,
and consequently are to be found lying loose in the thick
beds of mud and silt, exposed to view when the tide is
out. These nodules, rolled by the waves, have been
worn into the most strange and fantastic shapes. The
fossil remains, through the same cause, suffer severely,
and this accounts for the very few perfect and clear
specimens that have hitherto been discovered.

We should naturally expect, that if Perim was ever
united to the main land in past ages, we should be able
to detect its clays, sandstones, conglomerates, and bone
beds on the opposite shores of Kattiawar—and such is
the case; and this is the evidence to which I referred at
the beginning of this paper, as being so strong in favour
of the idea that such a connection did once exist. Major
Fulljamest found that similar formations Jay along the
whole line of coast from Gogo to Gossnath Point; and in
the conglomerates discovered fossils of the same age

* Dr. Lush, “ Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal,” vol, v. p. 767.
+ “ Journal of the Asiatic Society,” Bengal, vol. vi-yw. 787.

19

146

and character as those of Perim. (I may mention that
at Gossnath Point the fine sandstone is quarried, of
which the magnificent Jaina temples at Paliténa are con-
structed.)

The separation may have taken place either through
the action of the sea, which is unusually severe in the
Gulf of Cambay, or else under the influence of one of
those terrific earthquakes so frequent in that region.
Major Fulljames, in the same notice in which he commu-
nicates the discoveries above referred to, concludes by
saying—“ This fact ascertained (i.e. that the formations
of Perim and the main land are identical in appearance
and general character), settles the question of whether
Perim was originally a part of the continent, and it only
remains to prove how the separation has taken place.
My opinion is, that it has been effected by the force of
the current during the ebb tides and the swell of the
monsoon,”

DISCOVERY OF FOSSILS IN PERIM.

Dr. Lush was the first to discover that fossils existed
in Perim Island. He mentions the fact in a short account
of the geology of the Northern Konkan, which appeared
in the Journal of the Bengal Asiatic Society, in 1836; at
the same time he seems to have been ignorant of the true
nature and value of his discoveries, as appears from the
following letter from Baron Hiigel, of Bombay, communi-
cated to the same Journal. Addressing the secretary, he
says—

“ You will receive shortly a few fossil bones from Perim
Island, in the Cambay Gulf—Dr. Lush has the merit to
have found them, but without exploring them at all. I
had no time to go over from Surat where Dr. Lush shewed
me them, I requested him to send them to you through
Mr. Walker. One is an imperfect bone of a Mastodon

147

or elephant, another the head of a boar unknown, and
ene belonging, I think, to a “rongeur;” but what
induces me particularly to wish them at Calcutta, is, that
there is a horn in its matrix, which, connected as these
fossils must be with those of the Nerbudda, might belong
to that species of bos mentioned in your Journal; it is
decidedly not a buffalo. I was so anxious to reach
Bombay that I could not possibly go to Perim myself.
I did, however, manage to send a boat over, and I re-
ceived yesterday forty-one pieces of fossil bones, the
greater part belonging to the “ Mastodon latidens,’ of
which the teeth, in a perfect state, did not leave any
doubt; some of the bones are of immense size—one frac-
tured piece of the tusk measuring from the centre 54,
which gives 103 inches diameter, or 34 inches in circum-
ference; some of them are in the same hard matrix you
will see imbedding the horn, some evidently rolled by
the sea. There are some curious teeth among the frag-
ments I possess, and two triangular-shaped pieces similar
to the horn of a rhinoceros; the teeth are, however, too
large to belong to that animal. 1 may perhaps send the
most curious specimens round to you; but I am at this
moment too much pleased with my discovery to part
with them. It appears that the island abounds with the
fossils, and it is a clear proof that the Nerbudda must
have found only lately its way to the Cambay Gulf, or
that some revolution must have separated the little
island from Kattiawar. Having no opportunity to leave
this for either Persia or the Cape, I may still perhaps be
able to go to Perim and Gogo to trace the fossils on the
mainland of the peninsula.”

I may remark, that the conglomerates of the valley of
the Nerbudda, which were so thoroughly examined by
Spilsbury, and in which remains of Elephas, Hippopota-
mus, Equus, and Bos have been discovered, are now

148

proved to belong to a later age than the Tertiaries of
Perim, viz., the Pliocéne. The fossils of that district,
therefore, have no connection with the ones in question,
as Baron Hiigel supposed.*

_ Major Fulljames was the next to visit the island, and
it is to him we are indebted for by far the greatest
‘ amount of information we possess, both as to its physical
features and geological character. In a letter published
in the Bengal Asiatic Society's Journal,’+ he gives a full
description of the place. “On my arrival in this part cf
the country, in the month of April, I heard a report that
some bones, turned into stones, as the natives called them,
had been discovered on the Island of Perim, in the Gulf
of Cambay, and in latitude 21° 29’. I lost no time in
going there to see if the report of fossil remains was
correct, and, although I do not pretend to be a geologist,
or to know much about fossil osteology, still I consider
inyself most amply repaid by my first visit to the island,
for I obtained a most perfect specimen of the teeth of the
mastodon; one also, I think, belongs to the paleeothe-
rium; the femur vertebra, and many other bones belong-
ing to mammiferous animals now extinct.” * * #*
Concluding, he sums up by saying—“ I will here enume-
rate the varieties of specimens of fossil remains which
I think have been found. Teeth of mammoth, Mastodon,
Paleotherium, Hippopotamus or Rhinoceros, and a number
of other large bones, one shell in siliceous sandstone, and
the half of a deer’s foot.” 4 = - % *

From this time until 1845 nothing further was written
or published on the subject of Perim fossils. In the
month of June in that year, Mr. Albemarle Bettington, of
the Bombay Civil Service, communicated to the Royal
Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, an account

* The bone beds of Pyetun and Rakasbowen, in the Deccan, are of a Pliocéne
age also. + Vol. v p. 289.

149

of the cranium of some gigantic ruminant discovered by
himself when on a visit to the island, and which he
considered to be an entirely new genus. During the
same year Dr. Hugh Falconer, the greatest authority of
the day on Indian paleontology, having had occasion to
examine the collections of Perim fossils in the British
Museum and the Museum of the Geological Society, with
reference to that magnificent work on the fossil fauna of
Northern India, on which Colonel Cautley and himself
were engaged, the Fuuna Antiqua Sivalensis, gave to the
world his very valuable memoir on some new forms and
genera from that locality.*

The fossils of Perim are intended to be described in

the Fauna Antiqua Sivalensis. The publication of this
serial was commenced some twelve years ago; ten num-
bers of the plates appeared in quick succession, but only
one of the letter-press. J am glad to say that this grand
undertaking has been resumed after so long a pause, and
we may expect soon to see it completed in the same
masterly style in which it was begun.

If we take into consideration the small extent of Perim,
I think there is no locality in the world which has fur-
nished so many interesting remains of those beings
which, during the second division of the Tertiary epoch,
roamed masters of the earth.

Among the pachydermata, parts of that most singular
of the class, the Deinotherium, have been detected. Dr.
Falconer has the honour of being the first to discover
that this extraordinary animal, which hitherto was sup-
posed to be confined to Europe—its remains having been
found only in Germany and France—once wallowed in the
swamps and lakes of primeval India. In the memoir to
which I have before alluded, he gives a long history
of his examination of part of a molar tooth and a frag-

* “Journal of the Geological Society,’’ vol. i, p. 356,

150

ment of a jaw belonging to this animal, which, together
with several other specimens found in Perim, had been
presented to the British Museum by Miss Pepper. He
instituted a comparison between these and corresponding
portions of the Dinotheriwm giganteum of Kaup, and
arrived at the conclusion that they were specifically dis-
tinct, and that the Perim one was larger than the gigan-
teum and more closely allied to the mastodons. He has
designated it Deinotheriwm Indicum.

Remains of two species of mastodon have, I believe,
been recognised in the fossil fauna of Perim, one entirely
peculiar to the locality—Mastodon Perimensis—the other,
Mastodon latidens. Various parts of the hippopotamus
have been discovered, but whether of the hexaprotodon
or tetraprotodon it is impossible to say, and no distinct
species has as yet been established. A separate form of
rhinoceros has been detected, to which the specific title
of Perimensis has been given by Falconer and Cautley.
Remains of Sus hysudricus and of the hippotherium have
also been discovered.

Among the rwminantia there is a very remarkable and
interesting genus, which has been found in no other
place. In form and appearance it must have approached
most nearly to the Stvatheriwm—it also seems to have
been allied to the giraffe. Major Fulljames sent home
teeth and fragments of the jaws in the collection which
he presented to the Geological Society. They were ex-
amined by Dr. Falconer, who at once recognized their
generic distinctness, and applied to them the title of
Bramatherium, thereby marking its relationship to the
ereat Stvatherium of the Sivalik Hills.

Camelopardalis Sivalensis has been placed by Dr. Falconer,
too, on the list of the fossil Fauna of Perim. Several
species of antelope and bos have been discovered and
established. Among the Reptilia we find that gigantic

151

tortoise the Colossochelys Atlas,* whose carapace reached
the enormous length of twenty feet, and which, with the
head and tail included, could not have been much less
than thirty feet long! There are also several forms of
fresh-water tortoises. Of the Crocodilide the most com-
mon are the Leptorynchus, resembling the Gavial or bottle-
nosed crocodile of the Ganges, and a broad-snouted
species. Vertebree of fish,t two and a half to three inches
diameter, are amongst the specimens in the Geological
Society’s Museum, but as yet they have not been deter-
_ mined.

It is worthy of notice that, whilst the fossil Fauna of
Perim is coeval with, and of the same character as, that
of the Sivaélik Hills and Ava, the various species are not
identical throughout, and though reciprocally represen-
tative, are not the same.

Remains of the Deinotherium are wholly wanting in the
Sivélik Hills and the Irawaddi beds, but, as has been
shewn before, they are to be found in Perim, and lately,
too, they have been discovered at Attock, in the Punjab,
by Lieutenant Garnett, of the Bengal Engineers.{ Mas-
todon Perimensis is the prevailing form in Perim ; Mastodon
Sivalensis and Mastodon latidens in the Sivélik Hills and
Ava. Dr. Falconer tells me he has never yet seen an
authentic specimen of elephant from Perim, but seven
species have been discovered in the Sivaélik Beds and .
Ava. The Sus hysudricus is common to both Perim and

* Dr. Falconer, who discovered this singular animal, thinks it may have sur-
vived as a species till India was peopled with human beings; and he thinks this
may account for some of the tales of Hindoo Mythology, which represents the world
as supported by an elephant standing on the back of a tortoise.

The natives of India seem to have long regarded the fossils of the Sivalik Hills
as remnants of giants slain by Ramchundra.

+ Falconer. “ Journal of the Geological Society,” vol. i. p. 365.

} Falconer on the Species of Mastodon and Elephant occurring in the Fossil
Slate in Great Britain. “ Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society,” November,
1857, p.5.

152

the Sivaliks. Rhinoceros platyrhinus, paleindicus and
Stvalensis are Sivalik species. Rhinoceros Perimensis is
peculiarly the Perim form. The HMippotheriwm is common
to both localities. The Stvatheriwm is exclusively confined
to the Sivaélik Hills, and the Bramatherium to Perim.
Camelopardalis Stvalensis has been discovered in both
places. Camelus Sivalensis has not been detected in
Perim. The gigantic tortoise, Colossochelys Atlas, ranged
from Perim to Ava.

As regards the distribution of land and sea during this
epoch we can, of course, merely conjecture. Dr. Falconer
tells me he is of opinion that the triangle formed by the
Eastern and Western Ghauts and the Vindhya Mountains
was formerly an island. From the base of this triangle a
northern prolongation was thrown off in the Aravelli
range, with various insular interruptions and rocky islets,
as far as Hurrianah in the Delhi district. There were
two gulfs, one occupying the Valley of the Ganges, the
other of the Indus. A coast line of a nummulitic sea ran
along the base of the Hala Mountains (on the west of the
Indus) up to Peshawur into the Hindoo Coosh, where it
turned eastward along the Himmalayas as far as Sylhet.
The emergence took place early in the Miocene period,
and the valley of the Ganges has not been submerged
since.

Over this land, then, were spread immense and mag-
nificent forests, and the densest jungles, in which roamed
herds of Mastodons, Elephants, and Rhinoceri. In lakes,
whose banks were clothed with the rankest vegetation,
and whose waters were crowded with aquatic plants;
and in rivers, rushing seaward to pour their tepid streams
into gulfs in which prowled vast shoals of sharks, the
Dinotherium and Hippopotamus sported and luxuriated—
the former uprooting with his rake-like teeth the succu-
lent aquatic plants which constituted his food. Here,

153

too, voracious gavials and their congeners swarmed
they were the scavengers, and eagerly devoured and
cleared away all decaying animal matter.

In corroboration of this theory, I may mention that
extensive lacustrine deposits, altered and disrupted by
basaltic rocks, have been met with over a wide extent of
the Deccan, containing the freshwater shells Paludina,
Physa, Limnea, Unio, and Cypris.* 8

The Sivatherium, Bramatherium, and giraffe no doubt
were to be found on the Pampas-like plains, which ex-
tended far and wide over the land, and which were
scoured too by the hippotherium, antelope, and bison.
Reasoning from analogy, we might infer that a country
whose fauna, independently of other singular forms, in-
cluded those of the elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus,
and giraffe, must have borne many points of resemblance
to Southern Africa, the only land in the world where we
find these four extraordinary types associated.

On the verdant isles on the coast, and in the mouths
of rivers, rhinoceros, sus, deer, and carnivora no doubt
abounded, just as we find them at the present day in
similar situations in the mouth of the Ganges. It is easy
to see how, during periodical inundations and floods, the
remains of these animals would be swept into streams
and carried out into estuaries and gulfs into which the
rivers discharged themselves.

During the monsoon, when all the great rivers of India
are swollen to an extraordinary size, immense quantities
of bones of oxen, deer, horses, and bears, and masses of
timber are carried down into the gulf of Cambay, in the
waters of the Subbermutty, Mhye, Nerbudda, and Taptee,
and imbedded in the vast beds of sediment which sub-
side at their mouths.

The fossils of Perim appear to have been exposed for

* Malcolmson. ‘ Geological Transactions.’ Series 2, vol. v. p. 570,

20

154

some length of time to the action of the sea previously to
being imbedded in the deposits in which we now find
them; for I have specimens of fossilized wood which
bear marks of most extensive ravages committed upon it
by the destructive sea-worm teredo.

The indistinctness which is so characteristic of fossils
from that locality, may not be entirely owing, then, to
the optration of modern causes.

It was on the 18th of March last year, that, in com-
pany with my cousin, Mr. James Fleming, of Bombay, I
visited the little island of Perim. We had been travel-
ling previously through parts of the Deccan, Kandeish,
Malwa, and Guzerat, and now having come into Kattia-
war, as far as Gogo, we determined not to leave the
district without seeing Perim, as we knew that very inte-
resting fossils were to be found there. The thought of
jossiliferous tertiaries was most refreshing. I felt well
nigh sick of trap rocks, for we had hitherto seen hardly
any other formation throughout the whole of our journey.

Embarking in one of the Bunderboats of the country,
we set off in the morning, and with the swiftly running
current in our favour, were carried along at a very fair
rate. The tides, as I have before remarked, are ex-
tremely strong in the Gulf of Cambay, and that peculiar
wave called the “ Bore,” is of constant occurrence. At
the time of spring tides it rushes up the gulf with terrific
violence, carrying vessels and everything before it. A
boat happening to stick fast on a mud or sand-bank, is
certain, on the return of the flood-tide, to be upset. This
phenomenon is very common in the Ganges, where it
almost equals in force that of the Gulf of Cambay. “ In
the Hoogly or Calcutta river,” says Rennell,* “the
‘bore’ commences at Hoogly Point, the place where the

* “Philosophical Transactions,” 1781.

155

river first contracts itself, and is perceptible above
Hoogly Town; and so quick is its motion that it hardly
employs four hours in travelling from one to the other,
though the distance is nearly seventy miles. At Calcutta
it sometimes occasions an instantaneous rise of five feet;
and both here, and in every part of its track, the boats,
on its approach, immediately quit the shore and make for
safety to the middle of the river. In the channels be-
tween the islands, in the mouth of the Megna, the height
of the ‘ bore’ is said to exceed twelve feet; and it is so ter-
rific in its appearance and dangerous in its consequences,
that no boat will venture to pass at spring-tides.” Sir
Charles Lyell mentions having witnessed it on a very
grand scale in Nova Scotia.* In our own country it may
be seen in the river Severn, where the wave is very
often nine feet in height. I have dwelt on this particular
point, because in past ages, as at the present day, this
phenomenon —supposing it existed — must have exerted
considerable influence in producing marked changes
in the districts in which it was prevalent, undermining
cliffs, and carrying away from low shores remains of
animals and trees, to be afterwards entombed in the bed
of the ocean.

Away we floated down the gulf stream, the dazzling
water breaking in melodious ripples on the bows of our
little vessel. It was an intensely hot day; and lying
under the awning we listlessly watched the receding
coast of Kattiawar, which, overspread with a thin veil of
mist, appeared dreamily indistinct and unreal. Our boat-
men, thoroughly acquainted with the difficult navigation
of the gulf, guided the craft most cleverly, and we could
not but admire their dexterity.

* “VLyell’s Travels in North America in 1842,” vol. ii. p- 166. London, 1845,
Quoted in “ Lyell’s Principles,’’ p. 319.

156

At length we came

* % * “unto a land
In which it seemed always afternoon ;
All 1ound the coast the languid air did swoon,
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.’’*

We were at Perim, and what a dreary, melancholy
spot the isle, which looked so bright in the distance,
appeared now! The only vegetation visible was the
gloomy mangrove tree, its tangled roots laden with sea-
shells and weeds, and spreading around in all directions,
seemed to luxuriate here, in its anomalous position be-
tween high and low water mark. Some of the Lascars
who, from the lighthouse had been watching us approach,
“came round about our keel,’ and helped us to disem-
bark. Springing ashore we immediately commenced to
search for fossils. Had we not been enthusiastic I think
we should soon have given up, for it was no pleasant
matter to grub away in banks of heavy mud, with a
burning hot Indian sun beating mercilessly upon us.

We landed at the northern end of the island, and turn-
ing westward, continued our explorations until we came
beneath the lighthouse. One of the Lascars told us that
the best time of the year for finding the fossils is in the
mouths of October and November, when the monsoon is
over, and the heavy rains and seas which have prevailed
during that season have either washed out fresh speci-
mens from the matrix in which they are imbedded, or
cleared away deposits of mud with which they are being
constantly covered when once loosened. The fossils we
discovered are for the most part very much sea-worn,
having long been rolled about on the bare beach as
boulder-stones. Many of them are so much disfigured as
completely to defy recognition, and with many it is diffi-
cult to arrive at a correct conclusion as to their real

* “ Lotos Eaters.’’—Tennyson.

157

nature. However, there are some which have been
made out. They are parts of mastodon, deinotherium,
hippopotamus, hippotherium, antelope, zeptorynchus, and
a broad-snouted crocodile.

Climbing over the sand-hills on the western side we
reached the lighthouse, and from the high ground on
which it stands we had a very excellent view of the
whole island and the opposite coast. The sun was sink-
ing gradually into the west, and the distant hills of
Kattiawar were beginning to wear the rich purple tints
of evening. Everything around was inexpressibly calm
and serene—not a sound was to be heard.

We now returned to our boat, which we found well
loaded with our collection, and, turning her head to the
north, we loosened and drifted away. Perim grew dim
and grey in the horizon, and at last we saw it no more.
The sun was gone, and the stars came out, and it was
late when we arrived at Gogo.

I should have been glad had we been able to make
another excursion to the interesting little island, but so
pressed were we for time, that it was impossible.

The next day but one we crossed the gulf to Tankaria
Bunder, the port of Jumbooseer; and in little more than a
week we were again at Bombay, from whence we set out
- on our long journey at first.

This paper was illustrated by drawings made by the
author, numerous fossils obtained in the locality, and
gigantic casts of organic remains lent for the purpose by
the Committee of the Derby Museum. These casts had
been presented to the town by the East India Company,
and the Society recorded its thanks to the Corporation
for lending them on this occasion.

158

TWELFTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Insrirution, 19th April, 1858.
DR. INMAN, Presipent, in the Chair.

The resignation of Mr. J. P. G. Sr was received.

James Yates, Esq., F.R.S., informed the Society of the
progress of the movement for introducing a decimal inter-
national system of weights and measures, and stated that
the National Association had unanimously resolved to
advise the adoption of the metre as the unit of length,
but they had not yet decided on the unit of capacity and
weight. *

The Rev. H. H. Hiaarys exhibited a brooch made from
the Polyporus saligna by an inmate of the Lunatic Asylum
at York. It was much admired.

Mr. Ducxwortn exhibited a fine specimen of the
Echinus mammillatus dredged in the Red Sea.

Mr. Marrat exhibited a number of lichens from South
America, which illustrated the general diffusion of that
class of plants, few of them differmg from European
species.

Mr. Hiacinson drew attention to the phenomenon of
complementary colours as found in printed matter, where
black was used on green. Dr. THomson had noticed the
same some years ago.

Dr. June suggested an emendation in a passage of
Julius Cesar. It was that in which Cassius said to Brutus,
when trying to persuade him to pronounce for liberty—

Were I a common laugher, or did use
To stale with ordinary oaths my love

To every new protester; if you know
That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard,

159

And after scandal them; or if you know

That I profess myself in banquetting

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.

Act 1, Scene II.

The difficulty occurred in the first line of the passage
He had never seen any satisfactory explanation of wha
Cassius meant by the term “a common laugher.” Som
early copies had “common laughter,” which was stil
worse. It struck him that they ought to be bold enoug]
to correct the text here, and he would submit a word
which would at least be consistent with common sense
as a substitute for the existing one, which certainly con
veyed no sense at all. The word he would suggest wa
* It was used in Shakspeare’s time for friend. I
occurred in the same play, as when Brutus addressed th«
people as “Romans, countrymen, and lovers.” In thx
Psalms it was used in the same sense—“ Lover and frien
hast thou put far from me, and mine acquaintance int

“ lover.’

darkness.” ‘“ My lovers and my friends stand aloof fron
my sore.” But it appeared, he thought, probable, thai
soon after Shakspeare’s time, if not in his time, it was
rather antiquated, and had quite lost its signification as
friend, and hence the printer might have been misled,
and substituted “ laughter” for “ lover.”

Mr. Yates exhibited a portion of a Greek M.S. written
by a community of Greek Monks in the Thebaid, in
Egypt, giving an account of the Solar Nclipse of 1715.

The following papers were read at this meeting :—

“ On THE British HymMENOMyceErES.” By the Rev. H. H.
Hiaains, M.A.—See Appendix, page 1.

“On Tae Locat Func1—Part IJ. Hymenomycerss.” By
the Rev. H. H. Hiacins, M.A.—See Appendix, page 55.

Also, by the same gentleman, ;

160

ON THE DEATH OF THE COMMON HIVE BEE,
SUPPOSED TO BE OCCASIONED BY A
PARASITIC FUNGUS.

By tHE Rey. H. H. HIGGINS, M.A.

On the 12th of March last, Timpron Martin, Esq., of
Liverpool, communicated to me some circumstances
respecting the death of a hive of bees in his possession,
which induced me to request from him a full statement
of particulars. Mr. Martin gave me the following
account :—

“Tn October last I had three hives of bees, which I
received into my house. Each door-way was closed, and
the hive placed upon a piece of calico; the corners were
brought over the top, leaving a loop by which the hive
was suspended from the ceiling. The hives were taken
down about the 14th of March, and two were healthy,
but all the bees in the third were dead. There was a
gallon of bees. The two hives containing live bees were
much smaller, but in each there were dead ones. Under
whatever circumstances you preserve bees through the
winter, dead ones are found at the bottom in the spring.
The room, an attic, was dry, and I had preserved the
same hives in the same way during the winter of 1856.
In what I may call the dead hive there was abundance
of honey when it was opened, and it is clear that its in-
mates did not die from want. It is not a frequent occur-
rence for bees so to die, but I have known another in-
stance. In that case the hive was left out in the ordi-
nary way, and possibly cold was the cause of death. I
think it probable that my bees died about a month before
the 14th of March, merely from the circumstance that
some one remarked about that time that there was no
noise in the hive. They might have died earlier, but
there were certainly live bees in the hive in January. I

—s

161

understand there was an appearance of mould on some of
the comb. There was an ample ventilation I think,
indeed as the bees were suspended they had more air
than through the summer when placed on a stand.”

When the occurrence was first made known to me, I
suggested that the bees might probably have died from
the growth of a fungus, and requested some of the dead
bees might be sent for examination. They were trans-
mitted to me in a very dry state, and a careful inspection
with a lens afforded no indication of vegetable growth.
I then broke up a specimen, and examined the portions
under a compound microscope, using a Nachet, No. 4. The
head and thorax were clean, but on a portion of the
sternum were innumerable very minute, linear, slightly
curved, bodies, shewing the well-known oscilating or
swarming motion. Notwithstanding the agreement of
these minute bodies with the characters of the genus
Bacterium of the Vibrionia, 1 regarded them as spermatia,
having frequently seen others indistinguishable from
them, under circumstances inconsistent with the presence
of conferve, as in the interior of the immature peridia and
sporangia of fungals.

In the specimen first examined were no other indica-
tions of the growth of any parasite, but from the interior
of the abdomen of a second bee I obtained an abundance
of well-defined globular bodies, resembling the spores
of a fungus, ‘00012 to 00016 inch in diameter. Three
out of four specimens subsequently examined contained
within the abdomen similar spores. No traces of mycelium
were visible; the plants had come to maturity, fruited,

and withered away, leaving only the spores.

The chief question then remaining to be solved was as
to the time when the spores were developed, whether
before or after the death of the bees. In order, if possi-
ble, to determine this, I placed four of the dead bees in

21

162

circumstances favourable for the germination of the
spores, and in about ten days I submitted them again to
examination. They were covered with mould, consisting
chiefly of a species of mucor, and one also of botrytis or
botryosporium. These fungi were clearly extraneous,
covering indifferently all parts of the insects, and spread-
ing on the wood on which they were lying. On the
abdomen of all the specimens, and on the chypens of one
of them, grew a fungus wholly unlike the surrounding
mould. It was white and very short, and apparently
consisted entirely of spores, arranged in a moniliform
manner, like the filaments of a stemless pencilium. These
spores resembled those found in the abdomen of tho
bees, and did, I think, proceed from them. The filaments
were most numerous at the junction of the segments. The
spores did not, I think, resemble the globules in sporendo-
nema muscee of the English flora, neither were they appa-
rently enclosed.

The Rev. M. J. Berkeley, to whom I sent some of the
bees, found, by scraping the interior of the abdomen with
a lancet, very minute curved linear bodies, which he
compares to vibrios. He also found mixed with them
globular bodies, but no visible stratum of mould.

From the peculiar position of the spores within the
abdomen of the bees, and from the growth of a fungus
from them unlike any of our common forms of mucedines, I
think it probable that the death of the bees was occasioned
by the presence of a parasitic fungus.

At the conclusion of the paper, Mr. Hrecins observed
that other insects were subject to the attacks of fungi.
A common instance was the small house fly, which was
often to be seen attached by its proboscis to the window,
and surrounded by a little white dewiness. This was the
effect of fungus, which lodged in the body of the insect,
and in the course of time made its way through the

163

seements, shedding its spores, and producing the appear-
ance to which he had referred.

The CuairmaN referred to an account which had been
given of the destruction of silk-worms in the Sandwich
Islands by something of the same kind. It was a very
common disease in flies.

Mr. JAmes Yates, F.R.S., spoke of a caterpillar, from
Australia, which had a fungus growing out of it.

Mr. Hiaerns remarked, that the same thing occurred in
this country; and if people would only study nature
around them they would see things quite as extraordinary
and every whit as beautiful as those which excited so
much surprise when they came from abroad. Returning
to the subject, he would observe that the practical infer-
ence to be derived from his paper, was that bee-keepers
should avoid placing bees again in a room where fungi
had made their appearance; from the myriads of spores
which they gave out, it would be certain destruction to
the insects to do so.

Mr. YATEs believed that essential oil was an effectual
preservative. Virgil recommended it in the fourth
Georgic.

The following paper was then read—On the

FLORA AND FAUNA OF GEOLOGICAL SYSTEMS.
By GEORGE H. MORTON, F.GS.

Tue intention of this communication is to present an
epitome of the classes of the vegetable and animal king-
doms, as they occur through successive geological
systems; and to bring under consideration those classes
which occur in the most ancient deposits, with the subse-
quent introduction of others, in the strata of the British

Islands.

164

The three primary geological life-periods are arranged
into eight systems, each distinctly marked lithologically
and paleontologically. These systems represent many
long epochs of our earth’s history; and though in
some instances long intervals may have elapsed between
them, yet each may be expected to afford us a very
correct knowledge of a vast continuous length of time.
The systems are again divided; and those divisions,
most important and uniform in character, have been intro-
duced into the illustrative table. To have detailed all
such subdivisions would have extended the subject be-
yond due limits. The classification of the vegetable
kingdom into five classes, and that of the animal kingdom
into nineteen classes, includes all existing plants and
animals. All these classes have been recognized in the
Cainozoic period; and all fossil organisms that have yet
come to light, can, with propriety, be placed under some
one of the twenty-four classes adopted. The table is
arranged so as to indicate the classes present in each
system; and the diagram conveys an idea of the relative
thickness of each of the representative recks, and perhaps
a very accurate one of the time occupied in formation,
supposing, of course, the rate of deposition to have been
uniform.

The earliest Flora we are acquainted with is that of
the Lower Silurian ; it consists of marine aquatic plants,*
Thallogens; that humble class being absent in the Cam-
brian system. The first trace of a land plant is a Lepidos-
trobus—an Acrogen, at the very top of the Upper Silurian.
We may, therefore, conclude that there were no land
plants during the long Silurian epoch, a vast interval, far
exceeding in duration any other system. In the Devonian
system, in addition to Thallogens and Acrogens, are found
the first trace of Gymnogens; but the remains of

* Alge,

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PLANTA.

FLORA .& FAUNA,
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165

_ vegetable life are very rare, though affording undoubted
evidence of’ the:existence of these three classes. In the
Carboniférous ‘system, the Acrogens and Gymnogens, unite
and forméits pe eeaarent Flora, “the most splendid the
world éver saw”— Palms, Endogens, are comparatively
rare, being noticed for the first time. Of true Exogens*
no trace has been discovered. In the Permian a similar
Flora prevailed, though very much reduced in quantity.
This system closes the Paleozoic period, Acrogenous
plants having predominated Lepidodendron and Stgillaria
forming thick beds of coal over large areas towards the
close of the period.

Ascending to the Mesozoic period, we find in the Trias
of this country all organic remains to be exceedingly
rare, the plants are few in number, but, throughout the
whole period Gymnogens are the prevailing type. Conifers
and Cycadaceex are abundant, and give a peculiar character
to the vegetation. The Flora of the Oolite differs from
that of the Carboniferous system, in the substitution of
Gymnogens for Acrogens. In the Cretaceous system, plants
are rare, but the former class is frequent in the green
sand. In the Lower Cretaceous deposits of Aix-la-
Chapelle there are abundant evidences of Angiospermous
dicotyledons, or true Exogens; but nothing of this type has
been observed in this country. With the close of the
system terminates the Mesozoic period.

In the Cainozoic or Tertiary period, we find evidences
of a very different vegetation, Exogens being decidedly
the most abundant, the sub-class Angiosperme far exceed-
ing the others. -The Endogens, especially the Palms, are
numerous, but the Acrogens are comparatively rare. The
Flora of the latter part of the period approximates nearer
to that of recent times, yet differing much from our
present European vegetation. The climate must have

* Trigonocarpum, Cyperacex, &c.

166

been much warmer, probably the result of a different
distribution of land and water, that only assumed its —
present configuration towards the dawn of the modern
period.

Adopting the classification of Sir Roderick J. Murchison
and the government geologists, the Cambrian system,
represented by an immense thickness of deposits, contains
only the remains of Bryozoa and traces of Annelida, the
former found in Ireland only. If we adopt the nomencla-
ture of Professor Sedgwick, the Cambrian system yields
Zoophyta, Annelida, Crustacea, Bryozoa, and Brachiopoda;
but, according to the former arrangement, that most
generally accepted, these classes appertain to Lower Silu-
rian rocks, in which are also found Amoryshozoa, Echino-
dermata, Monomyaria, Dimyaria, Pteropoda, Gasteropoda,
and Cephalopoda. The Crustacea and Brachiopoda are the
most numerous. In the great Silurian system all the marine
classes of animals, excepting Cirrhipedia, are undoubtedly
present. The Cephalopoda,* the highest class of inver-
tebrata, existed in the Lower Silurian, though not in the
lowest zone; and at the latter part of the epoch, judging
from their great size, they appear to have performed the
duties of fishes. The Silurian was a long period abound-
ing with invertebrata, when all those classes of life were
spread over the earth: we find their remains by millions,
yet the most careful searches have failed to produce
even a trace of a vertebrated animal.

During the deposition of the Silurian rocks collectively
there appears to have been no fishes. The Cephalopoda
were then the most highly organized beings that existed,
until just at the close of the period, in the upper Ludlow
shales, we find the first traces of fishes.t They are ex-
ceedingly rare, and consist of teeth and fragments of
about seven species of Placoids.

* Lituites and Orthoceras. + Onchus, Sphagotus, &c.

167

— Itis, of course, impossible for us to calculate the time
occupied by the Silurian era; but from the immense
depth of the deposits representing the system, their con-
stancy over such vast regions, and the evidence of the
organic remains, we may safely conclude that its duration
must have far exceeded that of any other; yet each
succeeding layer, if only a few inches, tells us of the
order and regularity that prevailed, and often leaves us
faithful and imperishable remains of the earliest life that
existed upon the earth.

Ascending to the Devonian system, as with each suc-
ceeding advance, we find a continual substitution of
genera and species, but never a repetition of one that had
previously died out or become extinct. Species seem
subject to some such natural law of life and death as
individuals.

In this era the number of Crustacea is much reduced.
Fishes are found in so perfect a state of preservation, and
in numbers and variety so remarkable, that though they
were all very much unlike those of existing nature, we
have obtained a very correct knowledge of their struc-
ture. It is very interesting to observe, in the upper part
of this system, the discovery of the first reptile* (of the
Lacertian order), a step higher in the vertebrated series.
Of the invertebrata no class has been found that is not
also in Silurian strata.

In the Carboniferous system fishes were abundant;
the Ganoidst of this era are very interesting, for they
appear to have occupied the place of the large reptiles
that were destined soon after to replace them. In this
system only one true reptile has yet come to light;
it is of the Batrachian order,} so that we may conclude
they were but rare; and the sauroid character of the

* Telerpeton Elginense. + Megalichthys, &c.
{ Parabatrachus Colei.

168

fishes lead us to the conclusion that this rarity was real,
and that air-breathing animals formed but a small propor-
tion of the entire fauna.

The organisms of the mountain limestone and of the
coal-measures, differ essentially to the extent that might
be expected of marine and fresh-water deposits. In
the latter we find the earliest Insecta of the orders Cole-
optera and Neuroptera.

In the Permian system the reptiles are more numerous,
though still rare. No class of the animal kingdom is pre-
sent that is not also in the Carboniferous system, and no
invertebrated class not also found m Silurian strata,
while in each the number of observed species is conside-
rably less. This system closes the Paleozoic period.
Afterwards the Flora and Fauna become so changed, that
most of the generic types, and certainly all the species, of
both plants and animals appear to have been replaced by
new ones. All nature assumes a new aspect, and reveals
as it were a new creation. In the fishes this change is
very striking, in the well-known heterocercal and homo-
cercal forms, as they emerge from the Permian to the
Triassic systems.

There can be little doubt but that these great organic
changes were intimately connected with the comprehen-
sive disturbances that marked the close of the Palaeozoic
period. The complicated upheavals of the Carboniferous
and Permian strata seem to have chiefly occurred at this
time ; and when we consider the gigantic nature of these
convulsions, we cannot be surprised at the scanty traces
of ancient life afforded to our view in the succeeding
Triassic system. The tract of country in England occu-
pied by the Trias or New Red Sandstone is as extensive
as that of any other; yet the paucity, and often total
absence, of organic remains is remarkable. The diffusion
of per-oxide of iron through the waters, and the unstable

169

condition of the land, may have acted against the propaga-
tion of life over immense tracts, and account for the rarity
of organisms in our British strata; or the extinction of all
the Paleozoic races may have left a sterility in nature
over extensive regions, awaiting the dispersion of new
forms of life from peculiar centres, such as the Muschel-
kalk, where we obtain a rich variety of Mesozoic life.
The Trias was probably dislocated and elevated soon
after its deposition, when the most prominent geogra-
phical features of the high land of the British Islands
received its present character, later disturbances merely
affecting its general level.

Ascending to the Oolitic system, we find all the classes
of the animal kingdom represented excepting Pteropoda.
The first example of pedunculated Cirrhipedia is found
in the Stonesfield slate; the sessile Cirrhipedia have not
been noticed in Mesozoic strata. Of Insecta, Coleoptera
and Neuroptera are found in the Inferior Oolite, Lias,
and Wealden strata; these two orders, and Orthoptera,
Homoptera, and Diptera, in the Lias and Wealden only.
Insect remains occur also in the Kimmeridge clay. Prob-
lematical bones of Birds have been found in Stonesfield
slate, Inferior Oolite; an observation authenticated in
remains from the Wealden. The occurrence of the foot-
prints of Birds, however, indicate their existence from
the Triassic epoch. In this system it is interesting to
find the earliest evidence of Mammalia. The lower jaws,
with teeth attached, of Marsupials, have been found at
Stonesfield in the Inferior Oolite,* and in the Purbeck or
Wealden strata; and on the continent, mammalian molar
teeth and fragments of bone have been found, in a bone
breccia, at Wurtemburg—strata corresponding to the
bone bed of our Lias at Aust.

* Amphitherium, Phascolotherium, &c.
+ Spalaeotherium, and thirteen new species.—Lyell’s Elements, 1857.

22

170

The existence of this class might easily have escaped
attention, for it is maintained from not more than ten
fragments of the jaws, and a few detached bones from
Stonesfield, and from the more numerous remains, very
recently collected in Dorsetshire, out of a bed only about
five inches thick, in the Middle Perbeck or Wealden
strata. The animals to which they belonged were of
very small dimensions, most of the jaws being under an
inch in length. The Oolitic system represents a long
and interesting era: it has probably received a longer
and more constant attention than any other, rewarding
the researches of Paleontologists with a profuse variety
of extinct creatures. The chief characters of the forma-
tion is the extraordinary development of the Cephalo-
poda and Reptilia, the latter so numerous, that the era
has been styled the “ Age of Reptiles.”

In the Cretaceous system is a similar Fauna to that of
the Oolite, but with generic and specific characters pecu-
liar to itself. It is reported that there have been traces
of Birds and Mammalia discovered, but we may consider
that very doubtful. The system seems to have been a
deep-sea deposit, some of its members being almost en-
tirely composed of the cases of Foraminifera.

Previous to the Cretaceous era all the Fishes were of
Placoid and Ganoid types; now, the Ctenoid and Cycloid
orders are observed. Afterwards, in the Cainozoic period,
they became far more numerous. At the end of the Cre-
taceous epoch, which is also the termination of the Meso-
zoic period, an elevation of the strata took place, which
probably considerably modified the geography of sur-
rounding lands and continents. There was also a total
change or substitution of the Fauna: considering
these two circumstances together, the relation between
them is very evident. In England we see the chalk
cliffs, not only elevated, bnt thrown into a vertical posi-

171

tion; and also find the whole series of Mesozoic types
destroyed, in consequence of convulsions, and elevations
of the sea bottom.

After the close of the Mesozoic period, a long interval
seems to have elapsed before the lowest Cainozoic strata
were deposited unconformably upon the deranged Cre-
taceous rocks. The connecting links, though absent in
the British Islands, are partially displayed on the conti-
nent. Further investigations may, perhaps, hereafter
enable us to ascertain the nature of great organic
changes, coincident with great subterranean movements;
for it cannot be too strongly impressed upon the mind,
that these breaks in the continuity of the strata only
exist over a certain area, or over regions subject, directly
after formation, to extraordinary elevatory movements;
and that distant places may afford evidence to fill up the
missing links, and render more perfect one great geologi-
cal history, of which our systems are mere arbitrary
divisions. If convulsions and upheavals of the earth’s
surface account for the destruction of all prevailing forms
of life existing at the time ina particular region, the occur-
rence of very different types in the succeeding deposits ,
is rather the index of gradual changes during the inter-
val, that sedimentary deposition had been suspended,
than of an extraordinary vitality of creative energy in
the sudden introduction of new species.

Referring to the Upper Palaeozoic period, we find Placoid
and Ganoid Fishes most conspicuously developed. In
the Mesozoic, Reptiles were more strikingly prominent,
performing their functions in the sea, Enaliosauria ; upon
the land, Dinosauria; and in the air, Pterosauria; but,
in the Cainozoic, is a still greater advance in creation.
Birds and Mammalia occupying the position held by the
Reptiles of the former period.

The fauna of the Cainozoic period is represented hy

172

every recent class, but the species indicate a great diffe-
rence in climatal conditions from that now prevailing in
this part of the world; we recognize them as allied to
present tropical or sub-tropical forms. All the existing
orders of Mammalia have been observed. The Quadru-
mana, Cheiroptera, Insectivora, Marsupialia, Cetacea, and
Pachydermata, are found in the Eocene. Birds, and
all the recent orders of Reptiles and Fishes, are also
present.

The Eocene is remarkable from the absence of Rumi-
nants and Carnivora; the first indication of the former
occurs in Pleistocene or newer Cainozoic. The mammals
of the Eocene are now all extinct. Most of the Pleiocene
and Pleistocene are also extinct : many of these were lost
during the time of the northern drift, when probably the
last change in the configuration of the land took place.
The evidence of the organic remains indicate a great but
very gradual change in the climate of Europe, no doubt
caused by the elevation of the Alps and other mountain
chains, and a very considerable addition to the dry land of
Northern Asia.

Before deducing any conclusions from geological facts
observed in the strata of the British Islands, it must be
obvious that the investigation of other countries is of par-
amount importance ; for if the British strata present all the
main facts that can be derived, from a general examina-
tion of the strata that have yet been examined by
geologists in many distant parts of the world, then we
can place more reliance upon any conclusions we may
arrive at, though based upon the negative evidence
afforded in this country. In India, Australia, and in
America, there is a constant analogy and connection
between the rocks of those countries and our geological
systems. At the last meeting of the British Association,
there were maps representing large tracts of India and

173

North America, geologically coloured according to our
own classification, and described by the surveyors who
had constructed them after examining the countries, and
who described their embedded fossils as similar to our
own. Professor Rogers even exhibited a Crustacean*
from the Lower Silurian of North America—a well-known
North Wales species—as affording evidence of what he
termed “a very ancient sympathy between the two
countries.” The analogy of genera and species over
such wide regions is very remarkable, and unlike the
facts observed in the present day. The theory of the
universality of the most ancient Fauna may, however, be
modified, according to the observations of M. Barrande,
who seems to have discovered distinct zoological pro-
vinces in the Silurian strata of Bohemia.

The records of the Flora and Fauna of foreign repre-
sentatives of British systems, do not differ essentially
from those recorded in our own strata. A compila-
tion of the organic classes peculiar to each successive
era, would differ very little from the one before you
representing the British strata. There is no occurrence
of Vertebrata in earlier strata than it is in England; and
to the first examples of Fishes, Reptiles, Birds, and Mam-
malia, the main interest of the subject is attached. The
discovery of Chelonian Reptile tracks in the Lower
Silurian of North America requires confirmation. The
mammalian jaw, described. by Dr. Emmons, from the
Permian strata of that country, is assigned to the Lower
Oolite by Sir Charles Lyell. It is probably the most
ancient example of mammalian remains yet discovered.

Palzeontology is a science in which new discoveries are
liable to alter its conclusions, in respect to the range of
organic remains through successive systems, and, there-
fore, any deductions arrived at, are simply the results of

* Paradoxides Forchhammeri.

174

our present knowledge; the absence of the vertebrated
classes in the lowest strata being based upon strong
negative evidence. Of course it is possible that the
Vertebrata may have existed, from the earliest creation
of life, upon the earth; yet not only have the most rigo-
rous researches of many years failed to discover a trace
of their remains, but, judging from the gradual develop-
ment or substitution of the vertebrated classes through
so many phases, until they assume such importance in
the Mammalia of the Cainozoic period, the conclusion
that such high types of life were altogether absent during
the first great life epoch appears strongly confirmed.
Notwithstanding the careful search that is constantly in
operation, several years have now elapsed without deve-
loping any new facts of importance tending to lower the
range of classes. The longer it continues we may the
more safely begin to trust the value of our conclusions,
and to assume that time will give them the character
of truth.

In conclusion, we find the remains of the earliest
organic body that we are acquainted with is a Bryozoon.*
perhaps associated with Annelids. If these were the first
creatures that ever existed upon the earth, how interest-
ing to look upon their remains, and to find that they are
by no means the lowest animals in the scale of organiza-
tion. But have we really found such ?—or is it one of the
first traces of the spread of life from some distant centre,
where the first creation unveiled itself in many classes,
perhaps even the entire invertebrata with which we
become acquainted as we ascend the Silurian system;
the epoch that undoubtedly is the first great life era
that we can separate in geological sequence. After the
Bryozoa and Annelida, the first or lowest classes observed,
are Zoophyta, Crustacea, and Brachiopoda; and so far as

* Oldhamia radiata.

175

we are able to ascertain, these composed the most ancient
Fauna of the ocean. They were soon afterwards followed
by the Cephalopoda, and many other classes. The only
class of comparatively recent introduction is Cirrhipedia.
The sessile Cirrhipedes are only found in Cainozoic strata,
becoming so abundant towards its close, and now so
universally spread over the world that the present time
might be styled the “ Age of Cirrhipedes.” *

The first evidence of the vertebrata, in the upper
Silurian, has been already adverted to in the occurrence
of Placoid Fishes, in the Ludlow Shales. The earliest
Reptiles in the Devonian and Carboniferous systems shew
how long that class existed before it arrived at its
maximum in the Mesozoic period. The first trace of
Birds seems indicated by their footprints in the Trias,
though the earliest undoubted examples are in Wealden
and Eocene strata. The first Mammals appear in the
Inferior Oolite, more frequently in the Wealden; their
present importance in the economy of nature being coin-
cident with the commencement of the Cainozoic period,
in every region where such strata have been identified.
With the accumulated observations of geologists to rely
upon, and the very general manner the subject has been
treated, I hope to have correctly placed it before you,
The object has been to shew a correct tabulation of facts,
and their relation, according to the present state of our
information.

* Darwin.

“176

THIRTEENTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Roya Iystitution, 3rd May, 1858.

DR. INMAN, Prestpent, in the Chair.

Tue Rev. H. H. Hiaains exhibited Corundum from Asia
Minor and Naxes, and observed that, owing to the high
price of the mineral, efforts were being used to obtain it
for commercial purposes from the coast of Coromandel.

Dr. Epwarps exhibited some specimens of aluminum
and other substances in the amorphous form, likewise the
silicate of soda; observing, with regard to the last, that
it would probably come into very general use for import-
ant purposes. Thus it might render garments unin-
flammable; would by its detergent qualities become a
useful ingredient in soap; was serviceable in fresco-
painting, sizing of calicoes, and as an adhesive cement,
where hot water did not come in contact with it.

Mr. Cocker’s new patent Wire-guage was shewn and
explained.

The paper for the evening was then read :—

ON REARING MACRO-LEPIDOPTERA.
By JAMES FITZHERBERT BROCHOLES, Esa.

In order to make this paper the more thoroughly un-
derstood, it may be well here to explain, or rather define,
the term Macro-Lepidoptera.

Entomologists divide butterflies and moths into two
sections, under the titles Macro-Lepidoptera and Micro-
Lepidoptera.

177

The former comprises the first five tribes, namely,
the Rhopalocera or Butterflies, the Sphinges, the Bombyces,
Noctue, and Geometre. Though some of the species
included in these are small, the majority are large.

The latter section comprises the Pyrales, Crambine,
Tortrices, Tineine, and Pterophoride. In these tribes a
few of the species are moderately large, but the majority
are small.

To go out and collect a number of larve, without pre-
viously providing suitable places for them at home, would
be folly ; a few remarks about breeding-cages will, there-
fore, not be out of place.

A large box, measuring half a yard or two feet square,
will be very useful; especially for those insects which
spin cocoons or webs, and for such as remain only a
short time in pupe. The box should be constructed on
the plan of a meat-safe, the sides and top being of fine
wire gauze, nailed tightly on a frame-work of wood. It
is immaterial whether the top or a side be the doorway,
provided a full view of the whole interior can be obtained.
Moss should be placed in the bottom, to the depth of
several inches, for the caterpillars to bury themselves in
when about to become pupe; and there should also be a
fair quantity of ledges and corners throughout the box,
to form asylums for the web-spinners and others which
do not bury. The wooden bottom of the cage absorbs
much of the moisture trom the moss, whilst there is a con-
stant drainage from the surface by means of evaporation
through the wire gauze on the sides and top; hence, a_
dryness ensues which is very prejudicial both to larvee
and pup. This must be obviated by frequent waterings.
On the other hand, too much moisture is equally injurious
and care should be taken to preserve a medium. Should
the box be allowed frequently to become quite dry,
waterings cause it to grow mouldy, and the insects die ;

23

178

hence, it is necessary to keep it as much as possible
equally moist.

For those species which spend the winter, or any
lengthened portion of the summer in the pupa state, either
under ground or amongst moss, &c., the following is an
admirable cage: Take a large flower-pot and fill it one-
third full of fresh, sweet moss, then place it upon a
soup-plate full of water, and tie book-muslin over it.

The evaporation of the water, passing through the
hole in the bottom of the pot, keeps the moisture in the
moss nearly at the right point, so that the trouble of fre-
quent waterings is obviated; but an occasional one is
nevertheless advantageous. A number of flower-pots,
fitted up in this way, enable the entomologist to keep
each species of larvae separate; to treat each as it re-
quires; to watch each through its several transforma-
tions; and to arrive at conclusions more readily than he
could do by keeping all in one large box. The pots also
may be kept either in or out of doors; whereas, a box
would soon be flooded, and the larve and pup drowned,
if kept where rain has access. The box, moreover,
would soon be destroyed.

When the cages are tenanted by larve, care should be
taken to keep them airy, sweet, and clean, otherwise
diseases are generated which prove fatal to the moths in
one or other of their stages. When many caterpillars have
been reared in one cage it necessarily becomes charged
with refuse, so that, when the insects are all hatched,
fresh moss should be substituted for the old, taking care,
of course, that no good pups are thrown away in the
change.

It sometimes happens that individual specimens re-
main in the pupa state for some time after the majority
have flown, and odd ones of good species are valuable.

Such domiciles are alone necessary for the rearing of

179

Macrc-Lepidoptera in general. There are, however, a few
exceptions, and these are what entomologists call internal
feeders. These live in and feed upon the boles and
branches of trees, stems of plants, &c.; and as wood is in
many instances their natural food, they cannot be expected
to refrain from eating their way through the sides of a box
or the lid which covers a pot. These are very difficult
to rear, and will again be spoken of. But whilst on the
subject of breeding-cages, confectioners’ glass jars, with
glass covers, may be mentioned as useful and suitable for
them. As fresh air is necessary for the well-being of these
larvee, either the lids must not fit tightly, or, if stoppers
are used, holes must be drilled through the glass near the
top of each jar.

Though preparations have been thus made for the
reception and safe custody of the caterpillars at home, the
entomologist is only half prepared. He has still to be
provided with means for ready capture and conveyance to
future quarters. His wants, however, are few and simple,
and consist of a dark lanthorn to aid him in looking for
those larvee which are difticult to find by day ; an umbrella
or large net to place under the bushes or branches of trees
whilst beating ; a stout walking-stick, a sandwich box, and
a few chip-boxes for the reception of the caterpillars.

The new season commences with the new year, and
there is little to be done during the first two months.
Many moths spend this season in the ova state,
attached to webs, trunks of trees, twigs, blades of grass,
&c., sometimes singly and sometimes in numbers. In
some situations these are easily found, whilst in others
with such difficulty that they require patience, perseve-
rance, and a quick eye, to ensure success in finding them.
Valuable and rare insects are sometimes found in this
state ; and itis well to look for them, since many species
are most easily obtained by procuring their eggs.

180

Though the Tit tribe (Paride) feed on them, this havoc
is small compared with that which awaits them after
leaving the ova state, from birds in general, ichneumon
flies, and other enemies.

Much may be done at this season by digging for pup ;
but on this subject the papers by the Rev. J. Green, pub-
lished in the Zoologist, pages 3888 and 5382 may be read.

Many Lepidoptera spend the winter as larve, which
remain dormant during severe weather, and come
out to feed in early spring on mild evenings. Some
of these are of advanced growth, and require but little
food before they become pupz. They must not be dis-
turbed from their hibernacula, as such treatment would
often prove fatal to them, but should be sought for
when nature has recalled them to animation. In some
instances, however, they do not leave the webs in
which they have slept before they assume the winged
form. When found, these may be carefully removed to
the breeding-cage without being disturbed. The ma-
jority of caterpillars are still young; and though on mild
evenings many may be found feeding, it is well to leave
them till more matured, since, if taken while too small,
they often pine away and die. The supply of food, too,
at this early season, is precarious, and it is better to leave
them to nature than to take and starve them. March is
now at hand, and with it the entomologist must begin to
work with more vigour.

The larvee of Cleora lichenaria do not seem to become
torpid at all during winter, since they may be found in
severe as well as in mild weather. They are becoming
fine now, and may be procured on the lichens which
grow so freely on the trunks of trees. In colour they
closely resemble the plants on which they live, and
require to be carefully looked for. They are very subject
to the attacks of ichneumons, but in other respects are

181

easily reared if taken when tolerably well grown. If
placed with some lichen in a jar covered with book-
muslin, they will thrive without any care beyond occa-
sionally damping the lichen, and preventing it from
growing mouldy. As they are caterpillars which rest in
exposed situations, they may be sought for during the day.
When full-grown they change to pupa in a web spun
among the lichen.

The majority of caterpillars are nocturnal in their
habits, and must therefore be sought at night by the
light of a lanthorn. It is true, a few may be found amongst
plants, and under broad leaves, &c., in the day-time; but
to obtain many, we must look for them whilst they are
feeding. Of course, we are speaking now of those only
which live on grasses and other low plants; and these
must be sought for on banks and other places where the
vegetation is forward. When their evening meal is
finished, as if conscious of security during the hours of
darkness, they often crawl up to some exposed place on
the tall stem of a plant or bush, there to rest until hunger
or the morning recals them to the ground. All such
places must, therefore, be examined, as well as the
plants which actually form their food.

In collecting and keeping caterpillars they must not be
crowded in too small a place, or they will sweat, become
enfeebled, and eventually die. Like most other beings
they require plenty of both air and room. When a
number of larve are stored away in cages they must be
well supplied with fresh food, or they will either not
arrive at maturity or come out small, dwarfish specimens.
They must also be furnished with those plants on which
they have been found feeding, since many would reject
other food and die of starvation. Some species are re-
stricted to one or two plants, others are found on one
genus or tribe of plants, whilst many feed on almost any-

182

thing that happens to be near them. With the last-
mentioned there is little difficulty, but with the two
former there is often much trouble.

The larvee of Epunda lichenea should be sought for
now in places where their food-plants, namely, the Glass-
wort (Salicornia herbacea), Ragwort (Senecio Jacobea),
Wall Pepper (Sedum acre), and Foxglove (Digitalis pur-
purea), grow. They increase rapidly in size, and as the
majority will soon disappear, time must not be lost in ob-
taining a supply. When the entomologist has procured
some, he should also take home a sufficiency of those
plants on which he found them feeding. With regard
to these plants, the naturalist must use his judgment as
to whether it would be better to put them into the cage
growing in the sod, or with the stems put in water in
order to keep them fresh. Grasses and many low plants
can be given in the sod when required; and on rejecting
one which no longer supplies proper food, the roots
should be examined for concealed larvae, and the soil
shaken out, lest a caterpillar has buried itself or changed
to pupa in it. Then tall plants, or portions of the
branches of trees and bushes, can be supplied to those
which feed on them, with the stems or branches in a
pickle jar or bottle of water.

Caterpillars are peculiar in their habits. Too many of
them, especially web-spinners, should not be crowded
together, as they would be in each other’s way and
cause death. In an overstocked box, the larve are de-
prived of their necessary rest by their restless neighbours
molesting them, and others are prevented from completing
their webs by wanderers crawling over and tearmg them
down, until at last many die of pure exhaustion. Then,
again, diseases are generated which decimate the popula-
tion, until the entomologist has perhaps only a few of his
stock left. Diseased and dead larve, or those attacked by

183

ichneumons, must always be ejected; and ichneumons, in
all their stages, must, without delay, be banished from the
cages.

When a box is well stocked with pupe, it should be
left undisturbed until all its tenants are hatched, and
then it can be put in order for new occupants. The larve
which feed in spring and the early part of summer be-
come moths before winter, and those which become pup
later in the season assume their last form in the following
year. Curiosity must not be allowed to induce the ento-
mologist to disturb or handle his pupe, since such treat-
ment would often kill them.

To proceed with out-door work—the grass and other
low plants are fed upon throughout the season, and may
be searched accordingly. There are no leaves on the
trees and bushes as yet, so on these, as well as on the
majority of evergreens, many larve must not be expected.
The hardy and lowly, but beautiful heaths, are, however,
exceptions, and these form the food of several insects which
should now be sought. Later in the season they are again
frequented by the larve of Saturnia carpin’ and Anarta
myrtilli.

March is at last drawing to a close, and giving place to
the more genial April. Birds are beginning to sing, buds
of trees to burst, and flowers to expand, and the favourites
of the lepidopterist are already assuming wings. The
sallows are in full blossom, and when they have afforded
one rich harvest of winged forms, they will furnish

another of larvee.

Whilst the bloom is still upon the flowers the very
young caterpillars of Xanthia silago and X. cerago are
feeding within them. When the flowers, therefore, no
longer form an attraction for the perfect insects, they
may be gathered for their living contents. It may be
asked how the catkins are to be known which contain

184

larve. Whether the eggs are laid in the buds or not,
remains to be discovered, but it is certain that the young
larve are within them. As the buds expand, and the
young caterpillars increase in size, the catkins become
dead and contracted in the part where the cause of the
mischief lies concealed. The malformation, then, will
always betray them. The willow bushes, growing near
woods where the insects are known to be, will be
found most productive; but great attention will be re-
quired in rearing those obtained. In order to ensure
success place the gathered catkins indiscriminately in a
confectioner’s glass jar, in order that the little larve may
not be lost when they leave their old habitations. The
great quantity of contained moisture will soon begin to
evaporate, and as it cannot escape through the glass, it
will cause the catkins to become mouldy. They are
then no longer fit for food, and the young larve leave
them to search for something more wholesome.

In confinement they thrive well upon the expanding
leaves. A second jar, which is sweet and clean, should
now be ready to receive them; this must contain a few
willow twigs bearing a good supply of advanced foliage,
and having their ends in a bottle of water to keep them
fresh. The caterpillars can now be transferred to this
as they present themselves, and when they have all been
taken from the first jar, it may be cleaned and prepared to
receive them again when they require another supply of
food. Whilst young they are very delicate, and in their
removal care should be taken not to handle them too
roughly ; and it is better to move them with a blunt pin
or something of the kind, rather than with the fingers.
When large enough they may be placed in one of the
flower-pot cages.

All small larvee should be kept at first in jars as described,
and supplied constantly with their proper food, as many,

185

if not all, would be lost if placed at once in a large
cage.

Probably the entomologist has a supply of eggs of one
or more kinds, some of which may be hatching now; if
so, each kind must be treated separately in the manner
just described, and careful watch must be kept on them,
in order that the young larve may be placed upon their
food whenever they make their appearance.

The genial influence of April has already restored the
hibernating larve of Lasiocampa rubi and Phragmatobia
fuliginosa to animation. For a short time they wander
about in search of suitable places wherein to spin their
webs. Both are conspicuous hairy caterpillars, which,
when obtained, should be placed in the large wire-gauze
box, previously furnished with moss; there they will
readily undergo their transformations. The cocoons, which
were spun before the entomologist sought for the insects,
may be found amongst the short thick grass or other herb-
age growing in the places frequented by them. These
should be carefully taken from their original situations,
conveyed home in a sandwich box, and laid gently on the
surface of the moss in the cage. In due time good speci-
mens will be the reward of industrious attention. Like
the grasses, the reeds are obeying the genial influence
of spring, and are already ornamenting their natural
localities with tall stems and green leaves. They are
the food of various species of Leucania and Nonagria, and
should, therefore, now be examined.

The sandhills also are losing the bleak and desolate
appearance which they had in winter, and are gradually
becoming covered with vegetation. The Stargrass
(Carex arenaria) is springing up also, and its young
shoots afford food for the larve of Leucania littoralis,
which should be sought in the latter part of this month.

It is a singular fact, that almost from the first expanding

24

186

of the leaves on trees and bushes there are caterpillars
to feed upon them, and on some trees it is particularly
the case. So far in the season the majority of forms
have been comprised under few types, but now fresh
ones will constantly appear. Hitherto two very dis-
similar larve of Bombyces and a number of those of
Noctue, which were pretty nearly alike in form to
a larva of the Geometra, are all we have seen. In colour
there were many variations, but the shapes have been
restricted; now the trees and bushes, as well as low
plants, will constantly afford other forms, which will be
spoken of hereafter.

The caterpillars of some Noctwe may be found during
this month in woods, crawling on the trunks of trees at
night. Sometimes these are attracted by the syrup placed
to entice moths, and are found at it when the entomologist
goes with his lanthorn.

The operations of April being now over, we come to
those of May. As the larve on trees and bushes are as
yet very small, and in many instances not even hatched,
we will leave them to Nature, and say a few words about
internal feeders. These occur in many situations, and at
different seasons of the year; and as we have not met with
many of the larger species we will speak of them for the
most part in general terms. First on the list is the Goat-
Moth (Cossus ligniperda), whose larva causes great damage
to various trees, amongst which may be mentioned the oak
and willow. These caterpillars are gregarious in their
habits, and feed upon the solid green wood, eating their
_ way, and forming in their line of march long galleries in
various directions. When the larve are full-grown, the
gallery formed by each is large enough to admit the
thumb ; but it not unfrequently happens that specimens
of various sizes and ages occur in the same tree. They
feed for two or three years ; and when a brood have left

187

their old haunts, the bark peels off leaving traces of
Cossus ligniperda but too apparent. Trees presenting
the ravages of former tenants are to be found every-
where, but broods at present existing are not so easily
discovered. How are the full-grown larve to be found,
when the bark which covers them appears uninjured ?
They require air, and to admit it there must be holes
somewhere. These holes serve also another purpose,
which betrays them; as they advance through the tree
their excrement fills up the gallery behind, so that
when they retrace their steps a quantity is necessarily
ejected; this falls to the ground, unless projecting
bark, a branch, or something else detains it more con-
Spicuously. Their fetid smell also betrays them at a
considerable distance. Of course their position makes
them difficult to obtain ; but it sometimes happens that full-
grown ones are immediately under the bark. These are
pretty easily secured, and should be treated as follows.

In a confectioner’s glass jar place a portion of a living
branch of the tree in which the larvee were found, and
also a quantity of sawdust. If the jar in which the
caterpillars are established be kept free from mould, all
will go well, and the tenants will give little trouble.
They are full-fed in autumn, become pupe in spring, and
assume the winged state in June and J uly.

Our next species in this series will be the Sphina,
Ageria bembiciformis, which we will not attempt to rear in
an artificial breeding cage, but which we leave to nature,
The larvee of this species feed in the living wood under
the bark of poplars, and are go difficult to rear by artificial
means that the attempt is almost useless. They assume
the pupa state about the end of May or early in June,
and fly in bright weather at the end of June or during
July ; on cloudy days and at night they are at rest upon
the trunks of trees, foliage, &c., and are then seldom

188

seen. They are hatched principally between six and
nine o’clock in the morning; and for some little time
after emerging from pupa they remain upon the trunk of
the tree stretching and drying their wings, when, of
course, they are readily taken. If the entomologist will,
during these hours, visit the trees frequented by them,
he will, with comparative ease, acquire a supply of good
specimens. As they are very lively, they must not, by
any means, be put into pill boxes, as they would soon
spoil themselves, but must be pinned at once. At first
sight they resemble wasps, but, since they cannot sting,
the entomologist need not fear them.

We will now pass on to that section of internal feeders
which live on the pith in the stems of plants. Amongst
these is Gortyna flavago, which may be found feeding in
the stems of thistles in May and June. The larve are
difficult to rear; but the species may be successfully
bred, if collected in the pupa state. The pupe may be
found in those stems in which the larve last fed. The
larve of Nonagria typhe feed in May and June within
the stems of the various species of Reed-mace (Typha).
These plants are often termed Bull-rush. The remarks
made about the last species will apply equally to this.

Adapted to their natural habitats, the internal feeders
are elongated, and differ very much from ordinary cater-
pillars. Allied to them are the larve of the Hepiahde,
and many of those which feed at the roots of grass and
other low plants: these are also difficult to rear.

Fresh forms will now continue to appear until the end
of September, in which month and the preceding some of
the most singular may be obtained. Three new examples
are now becoming fine. The very hairy black and orange-
coloured caterpillar, which is so often seen running on
the road or footpath in sunny weather, is familiar to every
one. It changes into the common Tiger-moth (Arctia

189

caja), and may be found freely on various low plants, on
almost any bank, or in gardens. Another is the larva of
Lastocampa quercus, which is much larger, less hairy, and
more silken looking than that of Arctia caja. In colour
it is variegated, but brown of various shades prevails. It
may be found by day resting principally on thorn and
willow ; it delights so much in being near the ground
that it seldom rests at any elevation greater than a few
inches up the stem of any plant or shrub; it also occurs
freely on moors. In figure this much resembles the larva
of Lasiocampa rubi already spoken of, but differs from it in
the arrangement of the hair. Both of these require plenty
of room, and will thrive best in the large cage. The third
differs widely from any we have as yet seen, and changes
into the common Anthrocera filipendule. It is common on
many grassy places, and may be found resting on tall stems
of plants and sometimes on walls, but so much resembles
in colour the surrounding herbage, that generally it is
difficult to distinguish. The cocoon is not less curious,
and may be found much more readily : it is bright yellow
and is attached to a blade of grass, a twig, a wall, &c.,
and may be frequently found in profusion, If the cocoons
are collected, they must not be torn, but, where prac-
ticable, whatever they are attached to must be cut off
below and taken with them. For a few days before the
perfect insects emerge from the pupe a curious buzzing
noise proceeds from the cocoons,

The willows may now be again frequented for the
larvee of Liparis salicis and Tethea subitusa. These are
in the habit of constructing habitations for themselves by
uniting two or more leaves with silken threads. The
former do not invariably do so, but as they are conspicuous
they may be easily found. The latter are more retired,
and are, therefore, found with more difficulty. Both also
occur on poplar. ‘Two or three singular larve of Geo-

190

metre may now be found on low plants: so far for
May. ~

June and July may be associated, since the operations
of each are sinilar.

The sand-hills are the great nursery of Lastocampa tri-
folit, and may, therefore, be frequented early in June for
the larve of this species. The prevailing colour of these
is yellow, and they rest by day upon the ground. The
moss on some parts of the hills is becoming yellow
through want of moisture, and as it is the colour of the
larve, it often effectually prevents their being seen.
Sometimes, also, they are partially concealed by dead and
prostrate stems of plants, so that they are difficult to find ;
the practised eye of an entomologist bent upon his object
will, nevertheless, find plenty.

There are many larve on the trees and bushes now,
which are nearly, if not quite, at their growth, and these,
if wanted, must be at once obtained. The caterpillars of
the autumn and spring moths are those principally spoken
of. All kinds of trees may be now searched, and much
trouble may be avoided by noticing where the leaves are
freshly eaten: and such places may be examined by
beating and catching in the net or umbrella, shaking out
the refuse from time to time. In beating for caterpillars
place the open umbrella as much as possible under the
branch or bush on which an attack is meditated, and then
give the branch or bush two or three suddenand sufficiently
heavy blows with a stick; the suddenness of the blows
takes the larve unawares, and down they fall. Caterpillars
of the Geometre and many others often descend by means
of silken threads, which would still support and withdraw
them from the umbrella when it is taken from under the
branch or bush; the entomologist must, therefore, see
that none are left suspended. There are some larve
which closely resemble a bit of dead stick, so that on ex-

191

amining the umbrella care should be taken not to reject
them.

In some places large, white, dense webs occur fre-
quently on the hedges in June. They are generally
apparent to the eye of every one, but are passed with
little notice. To the entomologist they are more attrac-
tive, as he knows or conjectures that they are the work
of some insect. They are, in fact, nests of the beautiful
larve of Clisiocampa neustria. On sunny days they may
be seen basking together and often side by side on the
surface of the web, and are then conspicuous objects ; in
cloudy or wet weather, on the contrary, they stay within
and are then not seen. In taking these, the branch on
which the web is spun should be cut off below and all
taken together. Sometimes, however, if the larve are
on the outside, they will drop on being shaken, and
against this the entomologist must guard. Those thrive
wellin the large cage. A little later in the season the cater-
pillars of Hriogaster lanestris occur gregariously in similar
situations and webs; they are also somewhat similar in
their habits.

To forget and neglect those which have already gone
into pupa would be throwing away past trouble; and as
some may be coming out now into butterflies or moths,
it is necessary to have a constant watch on those cages
which contain them. When a specimen is newly hatched
it has its wings folded up, but as soon as it has gained a
suitable position the wings gradually expand; at first
they are moist and soft, but they soon stiffen. Speci-
mens must always be allowed to stretch and dry their
wings before they are killed, otherwise they are of no use.
A good criterion in judging when to kill them is to test
their ability to fly: if they can do so well they may be
put to death.

August finds us on a ramble to the sandhills in pur-

192

suit of the larve of the small Elephant Hawk-moth
(Cherocampa porcellus). These feed on bedstraw, and
rest by day upon the ground, where they must be sought
in the neighbourhood of their food. At first sight they
have something of a snake-like appearance, and the ento-
mologist hesitates to touch them. He grows bolder, and
attempts to take hold of one he has found, but a sign of
impatience on the part of the caterpillar causes the
fingers to be suddenly withdrawn; he looks at it again
and hesitates, at last concludes it is harmless, and secures
his prize. With the second and future ones there is no
hesitation.

Somewhat similar to these are the larve of the Elephant
Hawk-moth (Cherocampa elpenor), which are also to be
met with now. They feed upon various species of Epi-
lobium, and rest by day upon the stems of these plants
or upon others near them. They are conspicuous, and
are, therefore, easily found. To succeed in rearing them,
the cage in which they are put must be kept damp, in
order to resemble their natural localities, the marshy
places in which their food plants grow.

At this season of the year a portion of an oak or beech
tree, and frequently a willow bush, is found to be de-
foliated. Either something very large, or more probably
something very plentiful, has been doing the mischief;
and on inspection a full-grown brood of the gregarious
and parti-coloured larvee of Pygara bucephala are found to
be the culprits. These will be little trouble, and as they
will soon become pupe they may be put into the large
cage. Whilst walking along, a willow twig or two are
perhaps noticed to be partially stripped of their leaves ;
this has not been the work of an idle passer-by, since the
stalks are left, and the leaves have evidently been eaten
by what proves to be the beautiful and very curious larva
of Cerura vinula; this may also be found on various

193

species of poplar. The singular larve of Cerura bifida
and C. furcula also oceur now respectively on poplar and
willow. All the species in this genus make curious
cocoons, and the larve have great powers of tenacity in
their prolegs, They generally hold very firmly to the
twig on which they rest, and unless removed with great
care, they are torn and eventually die of the wound.

The same remark may also be made with respect to
the very beautiful caterpillars of Smerinthus ocellatus
and S&S. populi. The former are almost invariably on
willows, and the latter sometimes feed on the same
bushes, but are more frequently found on poplars. The
large and varied caterpillar of the Death’s Head Hawk-
moth (Acherontia atropos) may also be found now feeding
on the tops of potatoes. Many very curious and beau-
tiful larve of various tribes also occur at this season.
Amongst the Bombyces, some perhaps of the most notable
in the neighbourhood of Liverpool, are those of the genus
Notodonta. The caterpillars of Notodonta dictea and N.
dicteoides are very similar in shape and general habits,
but differ in colour. Those of the one species feed on
poplar, and the other on birch. Whilst at rest they lie
at full length upon a twig or on the stalk of a leaf, and
are often so difficult to detect, that a practised and keen
eye will miss them. The humped larva of Notodonta
dromedarius is often called the Dromedary, and may be
found on alder. Allied to this is the variable and often
splendid caterpillar of Notodonta ziczac, which may fre-
quently be met with on birch and willow.

All these, as well as many others, may be found now
by day, by examining the twigs and underside of leaves,
in places where the trees and bushes are freshly eaten.
Amongst the Noctue the larva of Apatela leporina is,
perhaps, one of the most curious and beautiful. It occurs

on birch, is covered with curved hair, and when coiled up
95
25

194

has much the appearance of a little ball of loose, yellow
or pale-brown silk. This, as well as others which occur
now, often become pupe in a piece of decaying wood,
which must be supplied to those in captivity.

A portion of a decaying branch is easily obtained and
laid upon the moss in the cage destined for them, and it
is absolutely necessary for the successful rearing of some.
Several singular larve of Geometre, which resemble
pieces of dead twig, may be found now on various bushes
and in various situations. When at rest these so closely
resemble the twigs on which they lie, that they are ex-
tremely difficult to detect by day. At night they are
feeding on the leaves or are in various positions among
the green foliage, to which they are a strong contrast,
and they may then be easily seen. Sometimes, also, they
are hanging from branches, suspended on silken threads,
and are then conspicuous. Trees and bushes, as well as low
plants, may be thus examined until the fall of the leaf and
the commencement of winter.

FOURTEENTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Royau Instirurion, 17th May, 1858.

DR. INMAN, PresIpENtT, in the Chair.

Dycr Duckwortu, Esq., was elected an Ordinary
Member.

Dr. Epwarps exhibited some living annelides, nudi-
branchs, and crustaceans taken at Hilbre Island.

195

The Rev. H. H. Hieains exhibited a fossil, resembling
a Calamite, from Huyton Quarry, and added some stations
to the local flora.

The following paper was then read :—

EGYPT AND NUBIA:
THEIR CLIMATE, CHARACTER, AND MERITS AS
A WINTER RESIDENCE FOR INVALIDS.

Bry JOSEPH DICKINSON, M.A., M.D., F.RS., &e.

CoMPELLED by illness to withdraw for a time from the
active duties of an arduous profession, I endeavoured to
regain health in a climate, brighter, dryer, and milder
than our own, and visited in its search many of the most
frequented and favoured places of resort both in England
and on the continent of Europe, but in vain. I was then
induced to try what the climate of Egypt and Nubia
could accomplish, and here I found that which I had so
long sought for. Having paid considerable attention to
the character of this climate and its effect on myself and
others, I propose briefly, though I fear very inadequately,
to describe them, under the conviction that every trust-
worthy contribution, however small, will be considered
by the scientific inquirer as tending to render more pre-
cise and accurate our knowledge of questions of great
practical importance, and concerning which many erro-
neous views and false impressions prevail even among
medical men.

The observations made in Egypt and Nubia were con-
ducted by myself and my friend, Frederick Hubbard, Esq.,
C.E., conjointly. The instruments used were two self-
registering and two ordinary thermometers. One of the
first was placed outside the boat at the stern, and so
situated as to be protected equally from the direct and
the reflected rays of the sun, and from currents of air.

196

The other self-registering thermometer was placed in a
small dressing-room of the boat from which the sun was
excluded, but the air freely admitted day and night. The
other two thermometers were also protected as far as
possible in the same manner. But, I believe, the tem-
perature indicated by the thermometer is of necessity
really, both by day and by night, above that of the air on
the river. The walls of the boat radiate during the
night some portion of the heat absorbed during the
bright sunshine of the previous day, and thus, despite
every precaution affect the thermometric results. These
results were compared three times daily, and every pre-
caution taken to prevent error and ensure accuracy. The
importance of attending to these minute particulars
cannot be over-estimated, and to its neglect may fairly be
ascribed the discordant statements made by different
observers.

My own observations in the Desert and Syria were too
much interrupted and irregular to be of any scientific
value, and I, therefore, gladly avail myself of the table
kindly furnished me by my friend Mr. Hubbard, whose
attainments in physical science are of the highest order.
He had no self-registering thermometer, but took obser-
vations with an ordinary instrument with sufficient fre-
quency to give the extremes of temperature with a close
approximation to accuracy.

The table for Upper Egypt and Nubia is intended to
exhibit at one view the daily maxima and minima of tem-
perature (according to Fahrenheit’s scale), the mean of
the monthly maxima and minima, the monthly mean
and the average range; the force and direction of the
wind, the state of the weather with regard to clearness,
haziness, dryness, fog, &c. The temperature in the sun
is also given as compared with that in the shade, and that
of the water of the Nile on the same day and in the same

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; aS un plane phy gin ous am aris

: = me ype prmn) pe 3
: j
: Laid AN) | HE

1857.

&
=
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ro
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Ss ava a ale a glee ae Sle ate eee wate Gear avenee

197

spot, with such other particulars as are calculated to more
fully exhibit the character of the climate and country
through which we passed.

To make the latter part of the table (#e. through
Arabia and Palestine to Damascus) of use, the eleva-
tions above the sea-level have been added in a profile.
These are only approximate, but not very wide of the
truth. From them the temperature may, if desirable, be
reduced to those at the sea-level. They are, however,
probably, more interesting as they stand. It may be
observed how regularly the temperatures fall as the pro-
file rises, and vice versa, modified a little by the winds.
The temperatures of the Jordan, Dead Sea, Red Sea, &c.,
are also given.

The passage from Malta to Alexandria generally occu-
pies about seventy to eighty hours. The French Steamer
Borysthene conveyed us in a little less time.

We had as fellow passengers the representatives of
not less than twelve nations from the four quarters
of the globe. Few can conceive the striking differ-
ence which in almost everything manifests itself be-
tween this bustling port and those of Europe. Having
passed through the form of examination of luggage at the
custom-house, and the reality of most vexatious impor-
tunities and annoyances from porters, donkey-men, and
boatmen, we soon found ourselves quartered at our
hotel in the square of the Frank quarter. The Peninsu-
lar and Oriental Hotel is well-kept, and reasonable in its
charges—about ten shillings a day.

Little need be said here about Alexandria itself. Pliny,
‘who wrote his Natural History A.D. 77, states that it was
then a most flourishing city, and that its circumference
was fifteen miles. It had a population of 300,000 free-
men, and at least as many slaves. One of its streets
was four miles in length and one hundred feet wide, and

198

the Romans regarded it as second only in magnificence
and importance to their own capital. One-fourth of its
area was covered with palaces, temples, and public build-
ings, whilst its harbours were crowded with fleets, laden
with the rich products of the East, to be distributed
through the various nations of Europe.

Alexandria fell into the hands of the Arabs A.D. 640.
Amrou, in his report to the Caliph Omar, states that it
then contained four thousand palaces, four thousand
baths, four hundred theatres or public buildings, and
twelve thousand shops, (Gibbon). Its decadence has
been dated from that period. It would appear, however,
from the statement of Bishop Arculf, who travelled in
Egypt about the end of the seventh century, that the
commercial prosperity and political importance of this
great city were not then so greatly reduced as we are led
by recent historians to believe. Bishop Arculf describes it
as “a city famous throughout the whole world. It ex-
tends to a great length from east to west, so that he
(Arculf), who began to enter the city at nine o’clock in
the morning (horé tertié) in the month of October, and
proceeding through the whole length of the city, hardly
reached the other side before dark.”

Benjamin of Tudela, in the twelfth century, describes
Alexandria as “an extremely strong and handsome city,”
to which people flocked from all parts of the world to
study the Aristotelian philosophy.” “The streets are
straight, and some,” he states, “are of such extent that
the eye cannot overlook them at once.” “The city,” he
adds, “is very mercantile and full of bustle, and affords
an excellent market to all nations. People from all Chris-
tian kingdoms resort to it, and every nation has its own
fonticcho (or hostelry) there.” Four centuries afterwards
our learned and observant countryman, George Sandys,
visited Alexandria. After dwelling on its ancient glories,

199

he adds, “ Such was this Queen of Cities and Metropolis
of Africa, but who now hath nothing left her but ruines,
and those ill witnesses of her perished beauties, declaring
rather that towns as well as men have their ages and
destinies.” The rude hand of the fanatical and barbarous
Mussulman had already done much in the work of des-
truction, but the discovery of the passage to India round
the Cape of Good Hope, by Vasco de Gama, in 1497,
completely destroyed the commercial importance of Alex-
andria, and it remained little more than a mass of ruins
until the end of the last, or beginning of the present
century, when the gigantic intellect of Napoleon appre-
ciated its immense importance as the Key of the East.
At the commencement of the present century Alexandria
numbered as inhabitants not more than six thousand
souls. They now amount to about eighty thousand, and
the progress of recent events would seem to indicate a
steadily progressive increase,

In 1845 and 1846 Sir William Pym visited professionally
the different lazarettos of the Mediterranean, Adriatic, and
Levant, and in the correspondence respecting the Quaran-
tine Laws presented to Parliament, in 1846, we find him
stating that, “The towns of Alexandria and Cairo are
remarkably clean, and Alexandria in particular is rapidly
improving. Orders have been issued for widening streets,
pulling down houses, &c.” “The health regulations are
not confined to the town but extend over all lower Egypt,
and particular attention is paid to the Delta, medical men
being staticned in every district, &c.” Doubtless Mo-
hammed Ali intended that these things should be thus
as sketched by Sir William, more, I conceive, from the
description of others than from his own observations;
but this, like many others of the great enterprises of
that wonderful man, has proved a miserable failure. It
is, indeed, too true, as remarked by a late traveller that,

200

“Since the accession of Mohammed Ali, innumerable
villages have been deserted, most of the towns and cities
have shrunk in their dimensions, the clothes of the people
have been exchanged for rags, their food has been dete-
riorated by many degrees, whole districts have been
thrown out of cultivation and are fast becoming a prey to
the sands of the desert, and the population has dwindled
from three millions to one million and a half, according to
the estimate of Sir Gardner Wilkinson.” Many will be
disposed to agree with Miss Martineau, who visited
Alexandria in 1848, and thus writes: “Except in the
direction of the small and poor looking town, the area
within the new walls appears to contain little but dusty
spaces and heaps of rubbish with a few lines of sordid
huts and clumps of palms set down in the midst, and a
hot cemetery or two with its crumbling tombs. I have
seen many desolate looking places in one country or
another, but there is nothing like Alexandria as seen from
a height, for utter dreariness.” ‘ Nobody comes back to
Alexandria that can help it.”

It may be here incidently remarked that according to
the most authentic records, Egypt has undergone a
gradual decrease, both in the number and size of its towns
and in its population. Making every allowance for Greek
and Roman exaggeration the fact seems undoubted.
According to Herodotus there were in the time of Amasis,
(about 525 to 570 years before Christ, and the era of
Thespis, Pythagoras, and Ausop), twenty thousand inha-
bited towns, and Diodorus says that eighteen thousand
were entered on the register. This historian also affirms
that in the Pharaonie era the population amounted to
seven millions, and that it was not less in his own time.

In the time of Sesostris (Remeses ii.), before Christ
1355, the population would appear to be about six millions.
Two centuries ago it was four millions ; at the commence-

201

ment of the present century it had dwindled down to
two-and-a-half millions, and now Sir Gardner Wilkinson,
a most competent authority, estimates the population at
one-and-a-half million. Cheapness of food, simple diet,
steady industry, combined with a paternal government,
and a most salubrious climate to afford universally health
and longevity to the children of the Egyptian women,
who were ever celebrated for their fecundity, yielding
occasionally, according to Aristotle, five children, or even,
according to Pliny and Strabo, and not so rarely as to
make it a prodigy, seven children at a birth!

It is unnecessary to dwell long on the climate of Alex-
andria, as nearly all that is needed on the subject has
been already laid before the public in the wnitings of
more competent and experienced observers.

It seems, however, sufficiently evident that Alexandria
is not a place which an invalid from this country would
willingly select for a winter’s residence, for, though during
the summer rain rarely if ever falls, it does so frequently
and abundantly in winter, and the temperature then is also
low and unequal. Even during the period when the sky
is clear and no rain falls, the air is saturated with moisture
and occasions in the invalid a feeling of languor and
oppression. Besides, the lake Mareotis, with its mixture
of fresh and sea waters, and the numerous ancient under-
ground cisterns, sadly tend to render Alexandria the abode
of fever, ophthalmia, and dysentry. It is calculated, from
the returns of the last twenty years, that one-tenth of the
entire population die off annually from fever alone. Dy-
sentry here, as throughout the Delta, is very destructive
at certain seasons, and ophthalmia in its mild and severe
forms is met with in every direction. Dyspepsia is very
prevalent among the European residents, and the sufferers
from bronchitis are numerous. The cholera has also had
in its visitations a larger share of victims here than in most

26

202

other towns. The records of the plague shew that it
makes its appearance in Alexandria many days earlier
than in the interior. “In March, 1835, 4250 persons died
of plague, besides many whose deaths were not recorded,
out of a population not exceeding 30,000. Two-and-
twenty years previous to this, (namely, in 1813), 7000
persons are said to have died of plague out of a popula-
tion then not more than 12,000.” The plague is extremely
rare in Upper Egypt and Nubia. The writer from whom
the above remarks are quoted, adds—“ The climate of
Alexandria is, on the whole, salubrious, and was considered
eminently so by the ancients;” and, indeed, this was the
opinion, it would appear, of Diodorus, Celsus, Strabo,
Quintus Curtius, and other ancient writers. As a place
of vast commercial importance, Alexandria must be ranked
very high, but its ancient salubrity, as well as its gran-
deur, have disappeared.* At the present time poverty,
degradation, filth, and disease combine to finish the picture
which the swarms of mosquittces, the small but most
irritating sandfly, the midnight Arab funeral wail, the
early crowing of innumerable cocks, the incessant braying
of donkeys, the howling and growling of miserable, starv-
ing dogs, might otherwise have left incomplete.

Leaving Alexandria at nine a.m., travellers pass, in
comfortable carriages and at a moderate charge, by a one-
lined railway, in about six hours to Cairo, a distance of
one hundred and thirty-two miles. The railway traverses
the fertile plain of the Delta, abounding in rice, cotton,
wheat, lentils, &c., and exhibiting at intervals mounds
covered with the wretched mud-built villages of the
Fellahs, with one or two towns of some interest. At one
of the stations, Kafr-Sejat, the train stops for a short
time, nominally in order that the passengers may take
some refreshment and rest, but in reality that the viceroy,

* “Heu quantum Niobe, Niobe distabat ab illa!”’

203

(to whom the railway, &c., belong,) may victimise any
unwary traveller induced to partake of the scanty fare
offered without first ascertaining the charge. A very
moderate breakfast or luncheon will then cost him five or
six shillings, andif he add wine to it, he must pay in
proportion. The charge for the same at Alexandria or
Cairo would be about one-fourth of the sum. As he
approaches Cairo the interest considerably increases. For
the first time, probably, the European traveller’s eyes are
greeted with a sight of those mighty pyramids on which
so many centuries ago Abraham, Joseph, and Moses, had
so frequently gazed; and soon after Heliopolis, the On
of the sacred scriptures, comes into view with its lofty and
most ancient obelisk. Here, Poti-pherah, the father-in-law
of Joseph, exercised his high office of prince-priest, andtrom
its school Solon, Thales, Plato, and others, derived much
of that learning and science which was afterwards to give
impulse to the more prolific and lofty mind of Greece:
The immediate impression produced by these venerable
structures has not passed away before Cairo or Masr el
Kahira, (the victorious,) comes into sight, with all its
oriental grandeur. The numerous, and much varied
buildings, terraced, white and glistening, seem spread out
on a carpet of the richest velvet verdure, with the lofty
and most graceful minarets rising up in every direction—
the whole skirted by gardens abounding in lemon, orange,
citron, and other fragrant trees—with groves of lofty
palms, and avenues of acacias and sycamores. Overtop-
ping all, at the extremity of the Mokattam range of
mountains, stands the celebrated citadel, with the palace
and mosque of the viceroy, the whole exhibiting “a city
the like of which” remarks Clot-Bey, “no where else
exists, a city stamped with a genuine Arab impress, a
true city of the Arabian nights.” ‘ Such is the city, the
fairest in Turkie, yet differing from what it was, as from

204

a body being young and healthful, doth the same grown
old and wasted with diseases.”’—(Geo. Sandys, 1610.)
Cairo has of late years been much resorted to by Euro-
pean invalids for a winter’s residence, and in many points
of view it possesses very decided advantages over most
places in Europe. Few places are more amusing and
attractive to the European visitor, nor are its attractions
very soon or easily exhausted. The numerous Saracenic
palaces and mosques, with their beautiful minarets, splen-
did domes, and richly ornamented porches and cornices,
the lofty flat-roofed houses, with their curious projecting
and iron-barred, or quaintly carved windows, the fountains
with their luxuriant carving, and Arabic inscriptions, the
bazaars stored with the various productions of the East,
the baths, the citadel, with its extensive and most
interesting prospects, the narrow and crooked streets
affording shelter alike from the scorching rays of the sum-
mer’s sun and the winter’s blast, and presenting a wondrous
architecture without symmetry, and yet strangely har-
monious and pleasing, the strange commingling of costumes
and nationalities of the past and present, the Christian and
the Moslem. These, and other sources of instructive gratifi-
cation, are met with without risk, and without fatigue. The
neighbourhood, too, abounds in objects of interest. The
hotels now, especially those in the Uzbekieh, or Great
Square are good and moderately cheap—from eight to ten
shillmgs per day ;—yet the Christian philanthropist is
constantly reminded, that in this “ Queen of Arabian
cities’ —“ this epitome of the whole Eastern world,” there
flourish, as in a hot-bed, all those vices which have been the
bane of the vast, but short-lived despotisms of the Kast.
“ Converse with whomsoyer you please, you will quickly
discover, amid the charms of the most dazzling and
fascinating manners, infernal ideas and principles peeping
forth, like the asp and the scorpion, among flowers.

205

Corruption, if not universal, is so general that it seems to
exhibit itself everywhere. The very tombs, when a little
secluded, are not free from pollution.” So wrote one fully
competent to judge correctly, and Miss Martineau thus
adds her testimony :—“ There are few gayer things in
life for one who chooses to be gay, than a visit to Cairo.
The stranger must use a few precautions against the
disturbance of gaity ; and then he may surrender himselt
to the most wonderful and romantic dream that can
ever meet his waking senses.” But, in addition to other
precautions, “he must shake off any considerate humanity
that may hang about him, and avoid inquiring what lies
beneath what he sees, or thinking of any people but those
he meets in the bazaars.” Thus “ the stranger in Cairo
may have a short season of transport, if he will only take
up with the show of things and forget the roots. The
mere spectacle of the streets I relished more and more to
the last; as for the rest I could not keep my heart and mind
in abeyance for many days, and before I left, I felt that
there is hardly a spot in what I have seen of the countries
of the world where I would not rather live than in Cairo.”

Besides these ethical considerations, there are some
serious drawbacks in the climate which render it desirable
for the invalid not to spend the whole winter in Cairo, but
to pass up the river to the drier and more healthy region of
Upper Egypt and Nubia. The winds, occasionally very
strong, which prevail here from the end of summer
until April, are mostly from the north, and bring with them
after sunset heavy and cold fogs, which render the nights
chilly and dangerous to those exposed to them, without
being sufficiently protected by warm woollen clothing.
The lowering of the temperature after sunset is often
very sudden, and generally great, continuing until sun-
rise next day. Nearly all who have spent much time in
Cairo, will agree in the truthfulness of Sir James Clarke’s

206

remarks,—“ The wind is sometimes unpleasantly high,
and the mid-day sun oppressively hot; the temperature
during the night also often falls considerably.” “This
great difference between the temperature of the night
and that of the day forms a remarkable feature, and at the
same time the greatest defect in the climate of Egypt.”
This may be said of the whole of Egypt below Thebes, and
with much force as regards Cairo and the region between
it and Alexandria, but it will be seen by a reference to
the large table that the temperature very rarely above
Thebes, and in Nubia still more rarely, sinks below 50°
Fah.
Tables of temperature for Cairo have been given by
Dr. Abbott, Niebuhr, and others, in Mr. Rhind’s useful
little volume, and by others—but the majority are certainly
imperfect as regards the night temperature. This is
strictly the case in Dr. Barclay’s tables, published in the
Medical and Surgical Journal, Oct. 1854, and quoted in full,
with the highest eulogium, by Dr. Copland, in his able
Medical Dictionary. Dr. Barclay must have omitted to
put his thermometer out of the window. He gives the
lowest point at night (December and January,) at 57°
Fah., and the highest by day (December and January.)
at 64° Fah.; the greatest diurnal range being only 7° F.
Indeed the greatest diurnal range which he gives between
December 25th and March 7th, is only 8° F., and the
ereatest diurnal range during the whole winter and
spring is only 14 degrees. If his tables afforded even
an approximation to the truth, the principal objections to
the climate of Cairo would fall to the ground, but the
whole of his tables for Egypt are so much at variance
with the observations of nearly all on whom dependance
can be placed, that I cannot but suspect that some grave
error has crept into them.

It is well known to residents at Cairo, that the ther-

207

mometer. frequently sinks there below the freezing point ;
for as Mr. Traill, many years Superintendent of the garden
at Rhoda, informed Dr. Bromfield, “hoar frost is no
uncommon thing here in the winter months,” and he
has seen ice, thin of course, formed on pools in the
desert. Others have informed me, that they have
observed the same thing, and Mr. Headland, the Super-
intendent of the sugar factory at Rhoda, nearly two
degrees above Cairo, states that the canes are occasionally
much injured in that latitude, 20°N., and that in January
sharp hoar frosts are not unfrequent, ice having been
formed last winter there one-fourth of an inch in thickness.
Even at Esne, latitude 25°N., we observed the thermometer
to sink to 37° F. on the night of the 20th of February,
1857. This, however, was during the prevalence of a
strong northerly wind, which continued for three days
and nights so forcibly, as to render every effort to move
down the river, by rowing, nearly altogether futile. But
in Cairo, I found in December, 1856, the temperature
more than once below the freezing point. On the last
day of that month, the temperature was, in the sun
maximum, 110° F., in the shade, maximum, 70° F.; and
the lowest temperature at night, 46° F., there bemg a
slight southerly wind.

During the winter, for the most part, the sky at Cairo is
clear, the air in the day dry, and the mid-day heat pleasantly
tempered by the northwinds; whilst the night fogs nearly
always disappear soon after sunrise. It has been calculated
by Mr. Rhind that, “taking an average of six years, at
various intervals between 1762, and 1856, from the middle
of November until the middle of April, rain appears on
about fifteen days and nights, chiefly in January and
February; but on the majority of these, the fall is con-
fined to a few drops, or some slight showers.” On the
whole, the climate of Cairo may be safely recommended

208

as salubrious, and well adapted for a winter’s residence
for a large class of invalids, who are unable, or unwilling
to avail themselves of the superior climate of the Thebaid
and Nubia. ‘Towards the end of April, sometimes sooner,
and during May and early in June, the Khamseen, (or fifty
days wind), a south or south-east wind, with its parching ~
breath and clouds of impalpable dust prevails, and all dews
cease. Before this wind, so prejudicial to all animated na-
ture, sets in, invalids, Europeans especially, should leave the
country, either forSyria (the strong bythe desert), or forthe
warmer parts of Europe, such as Malaga, or Southern Italy.

In the following remarks on climate reference is made
principally to that part of the Nile Valley which extends
from the ancient Hermopolis Magna, in lat. 28°N., to Syene
(Asouan), known as Upper Egypt Proper; or the Thebaid,
and to Nubia, but they will likewise hold good with some
modifications for Middle Egypt, or that part of the Valley
which is above the Delta and below Hermopolis, and
consequently including Cairo and its neighbourhood. The
climate of the Delta differs essentially from the former as
it does also in its flora and fauna. Rain falls abundantly
at certain seasons in the Delta, and its meteorological
features are akin to those of the neighbouring coastlands of
Africa and the Mediterranean, partaking of all their defects
as a place of residence for the invalid, whilst in Upper
Egypt and Nubia, as will be shewn afterwards, rain is
very rarely seen, and the difference of its flora and fauna
are manifested in the dhoum palm, the river plants, the
crocodile, the hyena, the jackal, &c.

Probably no known climate can boast to the same
extent as that of the Thebaid-and Nubia of the union of
a cloudless bright sky, a pure warm atmosphere, combined
with unequalled freedom from moisture, and great steadi-
ness of temperature, as from day to day. Sir James
Clarke writes thus—“ I believe there is to be found in no

209

part of Europe a climate possessing these qualities
(warmth and dryness) in so eminent a degree during the
winter, as that of Upper Egypt. At this season, indeed,
the Egyptian climate, in point of warmth, dryness, and
steadiness of temperature, is superior to any noticed in
the preceding pages (viz. those relating to Europe,) and
in regard to the two first named qualities, it surpasses
every other climate not within the tropics,” mentioned in
his work. The great defect of the climate here, as lower
down the Nile valley, is the great difference of tempera-
ture between day and night. Happily, however, this is
a defect which can be guarded against by very simple
precautions. In this respect it contrasts unfavourably
with Madeira, as it also does in regard to the difference
of temperature between one season and another, and the
daily successive range. This remark will apply, in a
minor degree, to some other places. The climate of
Egypt, however, has, in its union of good qualities, inde-
pendent of its dryness, more than counterbalancing
recommendations.

Lepsius thus writes from Thebes on the 13th October,
1843, and his remarks will be just for the greater part of
the winter in the Thebaid and Nubia :—

“No one ever inquires here about the weather, for one
day is exactly like the other—serene, clear, and hitherto
not too hot. We have no morning or evening red, as
there are neither clouds nor vapours; but the first ray of
the morning calls forth a cloud of colours in the bare and
rugged limestone mountains closing in around us, and in
the brownish glittering desert, contrasted with the black
or green-clothed lower plain, such as is never seen in
northern countries. There is scarcely any twilight, as
the sun sinks down at once. The separation of night and
day is just as sudden as that between meadow and desert—
one step, one moment, divides the one from the other,

27

210

The sombre brilliancy of the moon and starlight nights is
so much the more refreshing to the eye which has been
dazzled by the ocean-light of day. The air is so pure
and dry, that except in the immediate vicinity of the
river, in spite of the sudden change at sunset, there is no
fall of dew. We have almost forgotten what rain is, for
it is above six months since it last rained with us in
Sakara. A few days ago we rejoiced, when towards
evening we discovered some light clouds in the sky in
the south-west, which reminded us of Europe. Never-
theless, we do not want coolness even in the day-time,
for a light wind is almost always blowing, which does
not allow the heat to become too oppressive. Added to
this, the Nile water is pleasant to the taste, and may be
enjoyed in great abundance without any detriment.”

The grand peculiarity and excellence of the climate of
the Thebaid and Nubia is its dryness, which is evidenced
by many remarkable facts. The rock temples and tombs
exhibit, in their primeval freshness, paintings above three
thousand years old, and linen, fruits, meats, bread, and
other materials quickly perishable in moist climates, are
here preserved as if unatfected by decay, and affording
convincing evidence that, year after year, the climate
retains this characteristic feature. I never met with a
single conferva, lichen, or moss throughout the whole
Thebaid or Nubia, though most diligently sought for;
and the difficulty of bringing fresh specimens of plants
uninjured to the boat, for preservation in the herbarium,
was exceedingly great, as they became so soon dessicated
and shrivelled up.

* The air of the desert is even drier than that of the
valley of the Upper Nile, and is remarkably buoyant, re-
freshing, and invigorating, though here also there is a
very marked difference between the temperature of day
and night, as we found by experience, and as may be seen

211

by a reference to the table. In some parts of the desert
the temperature from day to day is very equable, and
the diurnal range not very great, but in this respect the
desert localities greatly differ. Rhind states that his ob-
servations corroborate, with regard to dryness, those of
Dr. Barclay, who found, “taking zero to represent
summer-drought in England, his hygrometer shew a
mean of 7°5 degrees of dryness when sailing between
Thebes and Assouan, from the 17th to the 23rd of January,
while the mean was 12-2 in a tomb at Geezeh, for a cor-
responding number of days, from the 13th to the 19th of
March, the temperature at both periods being very nearly
identical, and the same bright, cloudless weather pre-
vailing.”

Rain is nearly unknown in Nubia, and is also very rare
in Upper Egypt. During nearly three months spent on
the Nile in 1857 we had only three showery days, and on
two of these the showers were only very slight and
short.

A friend, just returned from Egypt, and who has fur-
nished me with some very valuable information regard-
ing the weather on the Nile during the last winter,
1857-58, informs me that during more than three months
they had only one shower (at Edfoo on the 5th February).
Even the above appears to be above the average num-
ber of wet days, if we are to credit the statements of
travellers. Pococke “had been told that there, in eight
years, it had been known to rain but twice very hard for
half an hour.” Satisfactory evidence, however, exists,
both on the Mokattam and Libyan hills, that very heavy
rains do occasionally fall throughout Upper Egypt, for
they exhibit numerous deep water-courses with well-
marked traces of the force and rapidity of the torrents.
On the 17th of January, near Girgeh, lat. 264°N., there was
in the evening much lightning and some thunder, with

212

occasionally a squally wind, occasioning some danger to
our boats. During the night there was a very heavy
shower, and on the following day two more such.
Lepsius writes, “ At Assouan we were obliged to change
our boat on account of the cataracts, and for the first
time for six months past, or longer, we had the home en-
joyment of heavy rain and a violent thunderstorm, which
gathered on the farther side of the cataracts, crossed with
a mighty force the granite girdle, and then, amidst the
most violent explosions, rolled down the valley as far as
Cairo, and (as we have since heard) covered it with
floods of water, such as had been scarcely remembered
before. So we may say with Strabo and Champollion,
‘In our time it rained in Upper Egypt.’ Rain is, indeed,
so rare here that our guards never remembered to have
beheld such a spectacle.”

Lightning and thunder, especially the latter, are, how-
ever, extremely rare in Upper Egypt, and it is mentioned
by Aymé (Description d Egypt I. 135) that, during two
years he heard only a single clap of thunder, and that so
faint as to escape the notice of several persons around
him.

A clear sky and high daily temperature of the air are
favourable to the development of heavy dews, and are
consequently much seen in middle and lower Egypt,
especially when the north or west winds blow, as they
come from the Mediterranean, surcharged with moisture.
On the contrary, dew is nearly altogether absent when
the winds blow from the south or the east, as the hot and
arid sands of the desert completely desiccate them before
they reach the Nile valley. There is also little or no dew
in Nubia, except on the river, and that is so slight as
scarcely ever to leave any perceptible moisture on the
boat. Volney has stated that dews are most frequent in
Egypt during the summer, but this is altogether incorrect,

213

for very numerous carefully made observations have
demonstrated the contrary.

It is an interesting fact that the temperature of the Nile
water was never found to be lower than 56° Fah., generally
about 60° Fah., the difference being due to the sandbanks
and depth of current, whilst the surrounding atmosphere
was often from ten to fifteen degrees lower,—the mean
of the minima being 524° F., and if we deduct the bright
night temperature of Nubia, which, on the 8th February,
1857, at Derr reached 70° F,, the mean of the minima would
be below 50° F. Mr. Spencer Wells found the mean minima
in a voyage up the Nile, in 1849-50, to be only 45° Fah.,
and I am informed that the mean of the minima of the
last winter (1857-58,) was still lower.

All writers of any authority agree in the ancient salubrity
of Egypt, and the great longevity ofits inhabitants,though
they may differ as tothe causes. A recent writer, however,
(J. A. St. John, in his Eyypt and Nubia,) states that “it
was observed by the ancients, that of all mankind the
Egyptians were the shortest lived.” The very contrary
is the fact. The unanimous voice of antiquity told it,
but it is only necessary to cite afew authors. Prosper
Alpinus, a most competent authority, has devoted a whole
chapter to this subject in his Medicina Hgyptica. He
there distinctly states, that the Egyptians lived to a much
more advanced age than any other nation ;—“ very many
of them lived to more than a hundred years, and for the
most part, the life allotted to them is of ninety years
duration.”” He attributes this longevity to the climate
and their mode of living. They were yery temperate
both in their food and drink, using for the latter little
more than the Nile water, and contrasting very strikingly
and favourably in both these particulars with Kuropeans,
and especially Britons, Gauls, Dutch, Germans, and Poles,
who drank wine and beer freely, and used large quantities

214

of animal food, whilst the Egyptians drank water princi-
pally, and used a milk and vegetable diet, eating very
sparingly of animal food.

Herodotus, who flourished about 550 B.C., thus writes.
Lib. 2, c. 77. “They (the Egyptians) purge themselves
every month, three days successively, seeking to preserve
health by emetics and clysters, for they suppose that all
diseases to which men are subject proceed from the food
they use. And, indeed, in cther respects the Egyptians,
next to the Libyans, are the most healthy people in the
world, as I think, on account of the seasons.” He then
describes their mode of living, and states that “ they use
wine made of barley, for they have no vines in that
country.” He then adds the precautions used to avoid
excess, precautions which were not always effectual even
with the fairer sex, as may be seen in the numerous paint-
ings in the tombs, &c. At Beni Hassan, the effects of too
much wine on men are fully represented, and at Thebes
on Egyptian ladies. On the whole, however, the ancient
Egyptians were remarkably temperate, both in food and
drink, and to this cause, with salubrious climate, Prosper
Alpinus, as will be shewn afterwards, mainly attributes
their great longevity.

This statement of Herodotus, that “that they have no
vines in that country” (Egypt), can only apply, as has been
judiciously observed by the Rev. Dawson Turner, in his
admirable “ Notes on Herodotus,’ to that part of Egypt
marked out for the cultivation of corn. “ For though the
juice of the grape came far more into use after the
reign of Psammetichus, yet it is evident that the ancient
Egyptians were neither unacquainted with the vine, nor
with the wine made from it, as this passage and Book II.
c.60. (and more wine is consumed at this festival, ze. that
of Badista, than in all the rest of the year,) shew, as well
‘as the testimonials ot Strabo and Diod, sic. 1. 36.” That

215

the vine was known in Egypt at a very early time is
manifest from Numbers xx. 5. And also the dream of
the chief butler, in Genesis xl. 9-11. Dried grapes were
also placed on the body of the bullock, (ep. II. 40.) and
Osiris is identified by Herodotus, with Bacchus, the known
inventor of wine.

In addition to these authorities, quoted by Mr. Turner,
I may add that of Lucan, Lib. I. 8.

‘‘Gemmeque capaces
Excessere merum sed non Mareotidis uve
Nobile, sed paucis senium cui contulit annis,”’

and that of Pliny, Book x. iv, ch. 9., who mentions as grow-
ing in Egypt “ Three varieties of grape, of the very highest
quality known as the thasian, the ethalus, and the pence.

Whilst, indeed, the traveller in Egypt now never
meets with vines, except in the Fyoom, for they have
ceased to exist since its conquest by the Mahomedans,
who are by their law forbidden to use wine, yet, he
constantly finds in the temples and tombs ample evi-
dence in their paintings and sculptures, that the ancient
Egyptians were well acquainted, from the very earliest
periods, with the culture and use of the vine. At
Thebes and Beni Hassan, may be seen, on their walls,
the vineyard, the vines trained in bowers, the plucking
of the grapes, the baskets containing them, young kids
browsing on the vines, the wine-press and wine making,
and the amphore containing the wine. Besides grape
wine, and wine made from barley or beer, the Egyptians,
as well as the Babylonians, drank palm wine. On
this subject, as indeed on all others connected with
ancient Egypt, I would refer the reader to the valuable
works of Sir Gardner Wilkinson. His “ Handbook for
Lgypt,” published by Murray, is indispensable to travellers,
and far surpasses all its rivals and imitators.

To return from this digression, it would clearly appear,
from the inscriptions on the tombs, and similar sources of

216

information, that the inhabitants of the Nile valley really
did enjoy a very remarkable longevity. Morton, in his
“ Crania Eqyptiaca,” remarks, that amongst one hundred
skulls, taken at random, he calculated that there were two
of from sixty to seventy years, three of from seventy to
eighty years, and two of from eighty to ninety years old ;
a proportion far greater than is to be met with amongst
European nations, where scarcely two persons aged ninety
years, are found amongst one thousand. It has also been
inferred, from observations made in the tombs, and from
the comparative scarcity of mummies of children, that
owing to the care bestowed on infants, and the genial
influence of the climate, the mortality amongst them was
very slight. The mortality amongst children in Egypt
is now, however, exceedingly great, nor does it remarkably
diminish until after puberty. This does not arise
principally from epidemics, such as smallpox, (which do,
however, sweep off vast numbers,) but mainly from filth,
neglect, and mismanagement.

The sight of the children is one well calculated to
excite pity and sorrow. Their heads are scurfy and
covered with dirt, their bellies are large and swollen,
their limbs are ricketty and emaciated. They are more
than half naked, whilst their eyes, secreting a thick
muco-purulent matter, are, as well as their mouths,
constantly covered with flies, which they have not the
power, nor their wretched mothers the disposition, to
drive away. Their countenances, instead of the pleasing
rotundity and cheerful freshness of childhood, exhibit
only the expresive marks of pain and disease, and are
sharp, sunk, and unsightly.

The women themselves are not generally much better
favoured than their youthful offsprmg. Iam now speak-
ing, not of the Nubian women, who, when young, are
remarkably well formed, graceful, and for the most part,

?

217

very pretty ; but of the lower classes of Egyptian women,
whose long single wretched garment, generally open in
front above the waist, ill conceals their unsightly forms.
Nor do the pendulous bosoms, the sunken eyes, the
wrinkled and insipid face, with other indications of pre-
mature decay of mind and body, tend to render them
more attractive, any more than the habit both women
and girls have, of anxiously covering their faces, at the
expense of leaving much of the rest of the body uncovered.
Miss Martineau states that she found “ the people through-
out the country sleek, well-fed, and cheerful,’ nor was
“she sure that she saw an ill-fed person in all Egypt.”
Unhappily her experience in this matter is nearly, if
not quite, unique.

George Sandys gives a most graphic description of
the people as he found them at the beginning of the
seventeenth century, and in many particulars, if not all,
it would obtain at the present time. The demoralizing
influence, and most baneful effects of the Mahomedan
imposture had then, as now, become patent. After
describing “the Egyptians of the middle times,” who
“were a people degenerating from the worth of their
ancestors; prone to invocations, devoted to luxury,
cowardly, cruel; naturally addicted to scoffe and to cavill,
detracting from whatsoever was gracious and eminent,”’
he says “The countrey people doe follow husbandry.
They are not long in dressing themselves, being onely
wrapt in a russett mantle: nor have the women a better
coverture: hiding their faces with beastly clouts, having
holes for their eyes; which little is too much to see and
abstain from loathing. A people breathes not more savage
and nasty; crusted with dirt, and stinking of smoke, by
reason of their fuell, and their houses, which have no
chimneys. Some of them dwell under beggarly tents,
and those esteemed of the old inhabitants.” Yet. “the

28 :

218

beggars, by singing, both get relief, and comfort their
poverty ; playing withall upon drums which are fashioned
like sives.”

The ancient salubrity of Egypt has been attributed, by
a recent writer, ina great degree, to the general pros-
perity of the people, the canals of Sesostris, and the
elevation of the dwellings or mounds, but above all to
the universal practise of embalmment. And it has been
asserted that this salubrity ceased with the practice of
embalmment, which was totally abolished about the
middle of the fourth century, (356 A.D.) It is con-
tended by the same writer, that in Lower Egypt, dis-
ease, more especially the plague, is sown and preserved by
the mode of sepulture—that “the living are poisoned
by the emanations from the dead.” “ A porous level soil,
filled with dead bodies, penetrated universally by moisture
during the overflowing of the Nile, is after the subsidence
of the waters, heated by a burning sun, and a vast ceme-
tery, in the language of M. Pariset, is converted into a
true distillery of dead bodies.’’ Doubtless this may be
a prolific source of disease, and more particularly of the
plague; but far more may be attributed to the great
moral and physical degradation of the people, to their
insufficient and unwholesome food, to their low, ill-ven+
tilated, over-crowded wretched huts, and the agency of
animal and vegetable matters, putrefying in an alluvial or
marshy soil, like that of the Delta. Moral, physical, and
political degradation, poverty, famine, and filth, must
always, and everywhere, render their possessors fitting
subjects for disease and death. Whatever may be the
case now in Lower and Middle Egypt, it is evident from
the concurrent testimony of authors, that for a period of
nearly a thousand years, Egypt was free from all pesti-
lential epidemics—that is, during its occupation by the
Persians (194 years), that by Alexander and his suc-

219

eessors, the Ptolmies (301 years), and that by the Romans,
until the great plague in the time of J ustinian, A.D, 542,
which devastated, as a fearful epidemic scourge, the
whole of Egypt, Turkey and Europe, to the verge of the
Atlantic, sweeping away, according to Gibbon, a hundred
millions of people. True, the plague has been clearly
shewn from the writings of Rufus, of Ephesus, to have its
primary origin in Egypt, and that this was its native seat.
It is also now known to have existed there for, at least, two
centuries before Christ ; but then it was only known as a
rare and sporadic disease. Itis now never seen in Upper
Egypt and Nubia, and need be no source of alarm to the
European invalid. Besides, no such person would visit
the country when the plague was known to prevail; and
“itis seldom that a case of plague presents itselfin Alex-
andria during September and following months, until
February, and then only at intervals of several years,
Cairo is quite safe from the beginning of July, to the end
of March.”

Early marriages algo, doubtless, somewhat contribute to
the great mortality of the young, as also do the numerous
intermarriages between near relatives. It is no unusual
thing for a girl of twelve years of age to be married anda
mother, and become a wrinkled hag at forty or forty-five
years of age.

The males, however, having arrived at maturity, seem
remarkably free from disease, and are often muscular and
well formed, though not in general long-lived, as might be
expected from their habits, &c. It is therefore “rather
staggering,” says Rhind, and few will here dissent from
him, “to find Father Alvarez declaring in the early part
of the seventeenth century, that he had seen in Kthiopia
powerful men at one-hundred and fifty years of age, and
that in Egypt there were more old men than in any other
country on the face of the earth.”

220

Neither time nor space will allow of our entering into a
detailed account of the diseases prevalent in Egypt. This
has been done already by Clot Bey in his “ Apercu Général
sur [ Egypte’, and M. Pruner in his “ Topographia Médicale
de Caire.” It may be sufficient to refer the majority of
these diseases either to the miasmata occasioned by the
stagnant pools of lower Egypt, or left by the inundations
of the Nile; to the great heat (at certain seasons) by day,
and comparative cold by night; to the bright sun, and
fine sand-dust diffused through the air; and to the
filthiness and misery of the people, or to the combination
of these agents.

Dysentry and ophthalmia are the diseases most
prevalent in Egypt, and are probably mainly due to
exposure to draughts of cold air when the body is heated.
They are in general much more easily cured now than
tormerly ; probably because the diseases are of a milder
type, and the treatment is better understood. The
formidable ophthalmia which committed such fearful
havoc in the French and British armies at the commence-
ment of this century is now nearly altogether unkuown ;
and although the proportion of natives (Fellaheen)
labouring under the loss of one or both eyes, or of the
disease in some of its forms is still fearfully great, yet
doubtless this is owing to the neglect of proper treatment,
which is, when judiciously used, attended with almost
unfailing success, and the restoration to health of the
diseased organ.

Phthisis is much more rare in Egypt amongst the
natives than with the residents of any region in Europe.
To a certain extent, the same may be said of the
Europeans who have fixed their permanent abode here.
Not so, however, with the Abyssinians and Nubians who
enjoy in their native land an almost perfect immunity from
consumption, but who perish from it in vast numbers

221

when they are brought down to middle and lower Egypt.
As the northerly winds set in about November, and the
climate of Cairo is then not too hot for the European
invalid, he may safely arrange to arrive there at the
beginning or middle of this month. The ascent of the
river should be commenced before its expiration, so that
Thebes may be reached in December. Here he may
remain some little time, arriving in Nubia in the begin-
ning of January, before which time the climate is too hot,
and leaving it again about the middle of February for the
same reason. Resting again for a short time at Thebes,
the invalid should arrange to reach Cairo before the middle
of March, at which time the heat on the Nile is too great
to render a boat residence at all agreeable. Here he may
remain until the end of the month, when the climate of
Cairo itself begins to be too hot for a European invalid.
The usual mode of voyaging up the Nile is, for a party
of from three to six persons, to agree with a Dragoman to
take them in a proper boat, and during a fixed period
(generally from ten to twelve weeks, if the second cata-
ract be visited), the Dragoman being paid a fixed sum
(ten pounds per month), and superintending all purchases
and performing all the necessary services; or what is
better and more usual—the Dragoman finding the boat,
supplying food, and all other provisions for the voyage,
guides, and donkeys for visiting the temples, tombs, &e., and
paying all the additional charges, of whatever kind they
may be. The usual payment for this arrangement is one
guinea per day for each person ; and in all cases it is most
advisable that the agreement should be made at the Con-
sulate ; and all particulars as to the size and accommoda-
tions of the boat, the number of the crew, the number
and nature of the meals, the time to be given for seeing
the temples, tombs, &c., should be all carefully enumerated,
as little trust is to be placed in the veracity and honesty

222

of an Arab Dragoman, unless guarded by precautions like
the above. They, are, however, for the most part, civil
and obliging.

By a well-arranged journey of this kind, extending over
a range of from Cairo lat. 30° N., to the second Cataract
in Nubia, lat. 22° N. and back, the invalid may enjoy one
continued series of bright warm days, with cloudless
skies, and a dry, balmy, exhilarating atmosphere, the
mere inhalation of which, to a debilitated and bronchitic
patient, is an indescribable luxury. He feels, too, that
this state of things is not merely an accidental occurrence,
but one on which he can safely rely from day to day, with
but very few exceptions, and he makes his arrangements
accordingly, so far as the weather is concerned, with
almost mathematical accuracy.

No reasonable person need now complain of the dietary
on the Nile, which, though not very varied, may be made
sufficiently so, and practically, generally is so, and almost
always well adapted to the climate. The number, variety,
and excellence of the dishes supplied to our table, were
often a subject of very agreeable surprise.

The annoyance from vermin on the Nile has been very
much exaggerated, and the boats are now fitted up with
scrupulous cleanliness, and regard to the comfort and
tastes of European invalids; nor is there now anything
which need deter a delicate minded lady undertaking the
voyage.

There are, however, and we have met with some such,
who not only derive no advantage by leaving the com-
forts of their English home, and wintering in Egypt, but
on the contrary, essentially suffer from it. These are
either they who labour under some subacute disease ; or
whose symptoms are too far advanced to enable them to
bear with impunity the little inconveniences, and occa-
sional annoyances inseparable from a boat lite with Arab

223

sailors, or they are those who neglect the precautions
which are essentially necessary for the full development
of the advantages of a Nile voyage. The great difference
of temperature between night and day, even in the shade,
independent of the bright mid-day sun and the night fogs
render it desirable that invalids labouring under chest
disease should not expose themselves outside the boat
much after sunset nor before sunrise, and certainly never
without being protected by sufficient woollen clothing.
These latter precautions are not so much needed between
Thebes and Wady Halfa (a second cataract), as the nights
there are warm and free from dew. Nor should the weak
and enervated needlessly expose themselves, as some do,
for many successive hours, to the direct rays of a scorch-
ing sun, or imbibe for nearly an equal period, the mephi-
tic air of the interior recesses of the tombs, or of the great

pyramid.
It has been remarked by a recent writer on the climate
of Algiers:—“It is not of small moment to the invalid,

that pleasure and amusement meet him at every step,
that he has neither fatigue nor risk in seeking them; that
they are all of a nature to amuse, without exciting him,
adapted to all tastes, and to all capabilities.

In this point of view, Algiers contrasts most favourably
with other places of resort, where the objects of interest
are chilly cathedrals, cold picture galleries, and such like,
which fashion demands the stranger shall visit, be he an
invalid, or in health, and for which he must assume a
spurious enthusiasm, if from defect of nature or education,
he lacks the taste.

It is of real importance that the invalid shall leave his
room, not full of some excursion to a cathedral or ruin,
but simply to be in the open air, to wander about where
his fancy may lead him, sure of finding himself gratified .
and amused. He returns ere he feels fatigue, for he has

224

no prescribed mission or task which he must accom-
plish, in good spirits and refreshed, with as much to
talk of and think of as he can desire.”

Admitting the force of the above truths, it may safely
be asserted that in all these particulars, as in most,
though not all others, Egypt ranks much higher than
either Algiers or Madeira as a winter resort for the Euro-
pean invalid.

Thad prepared some remarks on the peculiarities and
merits of each of these, as well as of those of the south
of Europe, as compared with those of Egypt, and endea-
voured to point out the classes of patients likely to derive
benefit from them. No one can have seen much of
continental places of resort for British Invalids with-
out being painfully impressed with the conviction, that
much unnecessary suffering, physical and mental, had
been imposed cn many of them, from an ignorance of the
peculiar attributes of the several places, and the class of
diseases and patients they were calculated to relieve.

The Physician has failed to point out to them “regiones
quas elegire, quas vitare,” or doing this, he has sent them
from all the comforts and advantages of a home, and the
careful attention of dear relatives and friends, to the
discomforts and annoyances, inseparable, more or less, from
a residence amongst strangers in a foreign land, when
there could be no reasonable hope that the sufferer’s
troubles could be counterbalanced by a perfect or even
partial restoration to health. That very climate which
would at an early stage of the disease, and under certain
conditions, have wrought much good, becomes in the
advanced stage, and under different circumstances, the
certain accelerator of a fatal issue. I must, however, defer
these remarks to a future opportunity, as time will not
allow of their adequate discussion.

In addition to the numerous and undoubted advantages

225

enumerated above, and which, in combination and perfec-
tion, I believe, the climate of Upper Egypt and Nubia,
possess over every other yet known to us; it has many
others which should not be lightly passed over. The dys-
peptic, the sufferer from chest disease, the rheumatic,
the man whose constitution has been impaired by seden-
tary habits, anxious and harassing pursuits, or irregular
living, may here, if anywhere, find the necessary means
for recovering his lost vigour of mind and body.

In a brilliant and balmy climate, where mere existence
is felt to be a positive luxury, and where the mind enjoys
a serenity almost unknown in our foggy land, there is
scarcely ever experienced any feeling of ennwi, even when
the traveller is confined to his boat, and that passing but
slowly up the river, by tracking. The naturalist, and espe-
cially the entomologist, the botanist in a minor degree
may ever find materials for examining and collecting.
The sportsman may with his line or gun always meet with
abundant occupation. The archeologist and antiquarian
reap a rich harvest in the examination and contemplation
of the wondrous remains of ancient art and science, as
seen in the temples and tombs. The visits to adjoining
hamlets—marking the habits and customs of the people,
which illustrate so powerfully sacred writ, and classical
authors—the pleasing intercourse between fellow-travel-
lers going up or returning down the Nile, and the inter-
change of books or newspapers—making meteorological
observations and entries in the diary, with a moderate
proportion of pleasing and instructive reading—noticing
the distinctness of the geological features, or the peculiar
appearance of the moon, as white when on the horizon, as
in mid-sky ; or the sun set setting in a glory indescribable,
to be succeeded by constellations brilliant and beautiful—
admiring the deceitful mirage, or tracing the course and
direction of the lofty sand-pillar—sketching the various

29

226

objects, as the panorama glides slowly and pleasingly
by—these and similar pursuits, cause the day to pass
away so quietly and agreeably, that at the end of the
voyage one is surprised to find that so much time has for
ever fled.

“What dire necessities on every hand,
Our art, our strength, our fortitude require !
Of foes intestine what a numerous band
Against this little throb of life conspire!
Yet science can elude their fatal ire
Awhile, and turn aside death’s level’d dart,
And brace the nerves once more, and cheer the heart,
And yet a few soft nights and balmy days impart,”—Brarrie.

FIFTEENTH ORDINARY MEETING.
Royau Instirution, 31st May, 1858.
Dr. INMAN, PresipEent, in the Chair.

C. Cotuinewoop, Esq., A.M., M.B., was elected an
Ordinary Member.

The SEcRETARY gave notice of a motion to alter the
period of the Society’s meetings, by advancing the
session slightly, filing up the gap in passion week, and
cutting off the May meetings.

Mr. W. Dawson forwarded for exhibition several speci-
mens of cotton,—one called “ Barraguda,” and the other,
the produce of the poplar tree; also a silky fibre of
extreme tenuity, the production of an Australian insect,
the habits of which were as yet but imperfectly known.

Mr. WHITEHEAD exhibited some large specimens of the
Mytilus edulis, from the Bristol Channel.

227

Mr. Marrat submitted the Veronica montana, from
Bromborough.

The Secretary, in the absence of the Author, read a
paper,—* ON THE ADAPTABILITY OF WESTERN AFRICA FOR
A Corton Supply, witH A SynopticAL Notice or Mr.
James Lezs’s OPINION ON THE Six Montus’ Course or
Seasons IN THE Tropics.” By Tuomas J. Hurcuinsoy,
Esq., F.R.G.S., H.B.M. Consul, Fernando Po.

The following paper was then read :—

ON THE LIABILITY OF SHELLS TO INJURY
FROM THE GROWTH OF A FUNGUS.
By tHe Rey, H. H. HIGGINS, M.A.

Ir has often been observed that shells kept for a conside-
rable time in cabinets, are apt to lose much of their
original freshness and beauty of appearance. This kind
of injury chiefly affects such specimens as have a bright
enamelled surface, which at length becomes dull, and less
pleasant to the touch. Several suggestions have been
made with reference to the probable cause of the change,
which has often been attributed to the efflorescence of
saline matter absorbed by the shell; but, so far as I have
observed, the specimens most liable to injury from saline
incrustation, belong to genera in which the shells are

without enamel, as Littorina, Turritella, &c., and many :
collectors are in the habit of steeping their specimens in
fresh water for some days before placing them in their
cabinets, a process which is said to be an effectual pre-
servative from injury by saline efflorescence. Mr. Denni-
son of Woolton attributed the loss of lustre in enamelled
shells to the ravages of a minute insect, but had not
been able to detect the depredator. Many of the shells
in my own cabinet suffered such serious injury during
last winter that I was led to investigate the cause, which
indeed became obvious enough by the use of a microscope.

228

An ordinary lens shewed the enamel of the shell to be
beset with small bristly points, and when a portion of the
surface was scraped off and submitted to a higher magni-
fying power, the forms of at least two species of Fungi
became apparent, one resembling a Mucor with a globose
gporangium, the other, and much more common form,
exhibited both simple and moriliform filaments, with an
abundance of minute spores, seemingly quite free. After
having been carefully washed, the surface of the shell
was found to be as it were engraved in some places with
stellular marks, in others with strie forming irregular
reticulations, caused no doubt in each instance by the
spreading mycelium of the Fungus. It is scarcely neces-
sary to add that attacks of this nature need not be appre-
hended where shells are kept in a perfectly dry or well
ventilated place. A slight deposition of moisture does
however frequently occur upon their surfaces whilst shells
are undergoing examination, in which case it would be a
safe precaution to allow them for a while to remain
exposed to the air before returning the drawer to the
cabinet.

This closed the ordinary business of the session.

“DONATIONS

From June, 1857, to Junr, 1858.

October 19th,1857. From the Government, through the Astronomer
Royal—Hansen’s Tables de la Lune, 4to.

From the Earl of Dundonald—On the Bitumen of
Trinidad.

From the Borough Engineer—Report of the Public
Baths and Wash-houses.

From the Liverpool Compass Committee—First and
Second Reports, as published by the Government and laid
before Parliament.

From the Linnean Society—Proceedings, Vol. ii. No. 5.

From the Zoological Society—Proceedings, Nos. 314
to 333 inclusive.

From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xvii., Nos. 7 and 8.

From the Historie Society of Lancashire and Cheshire—
Transactions, Vol. ix.

From the Chemists’ Association—Report, 1856-57.

From the Natural History Society, Dublin—Proceed-
ings, part of Vol. iv.

From the Geological Society—Journal, Vol vii., Part 4.

From the Warwickshire Natural Historie Society—
Twenty-first Report, April, 1857.

From the Editor—Provincial Magazine, 5 Nos.

From the Author—Report on the Water Supply, by
Thomas Spencer.

From Drs. Nevins and Edwards—Copies of their
Inquiry into the Action of the Liverpool Water upon Lead.

230

November 2nd. From Dr. Inman—Volumes of British Associ-
ation’s Reports, completing series.
From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xvii., No. 9.
From the Royal Institution of Great Britain—Notices,
Part vii., 1857.
From the Plymouth Institution—Report, 1856-57.
From the Berwickshire Naturalists’ Club— Proceedings,
Vol. iv., No. 1.
From the Author—Rowell’s Essay on Pain.
November 16th. From the Liverpool Architectural Society—Pyo-
ceedings, Vol. ii., Part 3.
From the Royal Society, Edinburgh—Proceedings,
1856-57.
From the Linnean Society—Proceedings, Vol.ii., Part 6
November 30th. From the Zoological Society—Proceedings, Nos.
334 to 338 inclusive.
From the Author—Phenomena of Spinal Irritation, by
Dr. Inman.
From J. Barnard Davis, Esq.— Du Chailler’s Catalogue
of Birds collected in Western Africa.
From C. Beil, Esq.—A Theological Work, in Spanish,
of some antiquity, obtained in Mexico.
December 4th. From the Literary and Philosophical Society,
Manchester—Memoirs, Vol. xiv.
Dalton’s Chemical Philosophy, 3 Vols.
a Meteorological Researches.
From the Tyneside Naturalists’ Field Club—Proceed-
ings, Vol. iil., Parts 2 and 3.
From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xviil., No. 1.
From the Editor—Provincial Magazine, Nos. 6 and 7.
From the Author—Papers read be‘ore the Royal
Society, by the Rev. T. P. Kirkman, M.A.
January llth, 1858. rom the Geological Society of Dublin—
Journal, Vol. vii., Part 5.

231

January 11th. From the Geological and Polytechnic Society of the
West Riding of Yorkshire—Report of Proceedings, 1856-57.
From the Philosophical and Literary Society, Leeds—
Report, 1856-57.
From the Author—The Redbill Catalogue of Circum-
polar Stars, by Mr. Carrington.
January 25th. From the Natural History Society, Dublin—Pro-
ceedings.
From the Author—Sequel to the Statistical Details
respecting the Republic of Lubeck, by the Rev. R. Everest,
M.A.
From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xvill., No. 2.
From the Editor—Provincial Magazine, No. 9.
February 8th. From R. Stephenson, Esqg.—Correspondence regard-
ing the Clinical Teaching in the University of Edinburgh.
From the Editor and Compiler—Documents and Pro-
ceedings connected with the Gift of the Free Public Library,
by the Rev. Dr. Hume.
February 22nd. From the Author—The Nature of Inflammation,
&e., by Dr. Inman.
From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xviil., No. 8.
From the Manchester Natural History Society—Report.
From the Editor—Provincial Magazine, No. 10.
March 8th. From,the Linnean Society—Proceedings, Vol ii., No. 7.
March 22nd. From the Publisher, Mr. Greenwood—Photographic
Journal, Vols. 1 and 2.
From the Royal Institution—Report.
From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xviil., No. 4.
From the Editor—Provincial Magazine, No. 11.
From the Publisher—The Emperor Napoleon III. and
England.
April 19th. From the Royal Astronomical Society—N otices, Vol.

xviil., No. 5.

232

April 19th. From the Zoological Society—Proceedings, Nos. 339
to 348 inclusive.
From the Author—On the Mastodon and Elephant, by

Dr. Falconer.
May 17th. From the Royal Astronomical Society—Notices, Vol.
xvill., No. 6.
From the Editor—Provincial Magazine, No. 12.
From the Author—On Rotatory Motion, by Mr. Hunt.
May 31st. From the Linnean Society—Proceedings, Vol. ii., No. 8.
From Mr. W. Danson—Account of the Aviru.
From the Warwickshire Natural History Society—Report.

The Diagram at page 196 is presented by Dr. Dickinson.

APPENDIX.

> RA i eho ba OP 5 aes: ae se dB 4

BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES,

BY THE

REV. HENRY H. HIGGINS, M.A.Cantas, V.P.

4
n
/

READ BEFORE THE SOCIETY ON THE 10TH APRIL, 1858.

ABBREVIATIONS, «kc.

E.F. Tse Eyexisu Frora, vol. 5, by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley.
1836.

The number following the letters E.F. refers to the position of the
species in the genus, as given in the English Flora. In the Aga-
ricini the numbers, unless otherwise indicated, all refer to the
genus Agaricus.

An. Awnnats anD Magazine or Naturau History.
The number following this abbreviation refers to Notices of British
Fungi in the Annals, forming a series numbered throughout
consecutively.

Grev. Scorrise Cryprocamic Frora, by Robert Kaye Greville,
F.R.S. & F.A.S.E. 6 vols., 8vo. Edin. 1823.

Sow. Ewnatisu Funer, by James Sowerby, F.L.8. 4 vols., Fol.
London. 1797.

Bolt. Huisrony or FuneussEs GROWING aBout Hawirax, by James
Bolton, 4 vols., 4to. Halifax. 1788.

H.H.H. A few species collected by the Editor, which do not
appear to have been hitherto noticed as British.

| Species supposed not to be included in the Epicrisis.

The arrangement is taken from the Epicrisis of M. Fries, but a
few corrections have been made, for which the Editor is indebted
chiefly to the “ Introduction to Cryptogamic Botany,” by the
Rey. M. J. Berkeley, M.A., F.L.S. One vol., 8vo. London. 1857.

NOTICES OF BRITISH FUNGI

PUBLISHED IN THE

ANNALS AND MAGAZINE OF NATURAL HISTORY.

Nos. 1-58 Magazine of Zoology and Botany, vol. 1.

» 09-187 Annals, vol. 1.

3 1885256 s vol 7. JS4i8
», 257-822 a vol. 18. 1844.
4 HORRY) » 2nd Series, vol. 2. 1848.
» 9880-501 ys 5s vol. 5. 1850.
» 002-614 os és Wally Seis stall
» 615-661 ‘ i vol. 9. 852.

» 662-784 ZF x vol. 138. 1854.

FUNGALES.

LINDLEY.

Hysterophytal or epiphytal, cellular, flowerless plants, deriving
nutriment by means of a mycelium, from the matrix, never
producing from their component threads, green bodies re-
sembling chlorophyll (gonidia).*

Synopsis of FUNGALES. Berkeley.
HYMENOMYCETES.

Spores naked. Hymenium free, mostly naked, or if
inclosed at first, soon exposed.

a
D>
o
2 | GASTEROMYCETES.
= Spores naked. Hymenium inclosed in a_peridium
| seldom ruptured before maturity.
so |
Zz 4
CONIOMYCETES.
a Spores naked, mostly terminal, seated on inconspicuous
a threads, free or inclosed in a perithecium.
= | HYPHOMYCETES.
Spores naked, variously soated on conspicuous threads,
| which are rarely compacted; mostly small in proportion
{ to the threads.

* Berkeley's Introduction to Cryptogamic Botany. 1857.

SPORIDIIFERI.

Hymenrum Inrerior,
except in resupinate forms.

HyMeEnium SUPERIOR,

HYMENOMYCETES.

PHYSOMYCETES.

Dn

o

os

= Fertile cells seated on threads not compacted into an
eS hymenium.

z

= | ASCOMYCETES.

a Asci formed from the fertile cells of an hymenium.

Synopsis of HYMENOMYCETES. Berkeley.
AGARICINI. Fries.

Fructifying surface lamellose.

| POLYPORETL Fries.

Fructifying surface porose or tubular.

AYDNET. Fries.

Fructifying surface clothed with prickles.

AURICULARINI. Fries.

Fructifying surface even, without folds, tubes, prickles,
&e.

( CLAVARIETL Fries.

=
=|
a Clavate or variously branched, rarely lobed or gela-
g tinous.
E
I TREMELLINI. Fries.
‘3 Lobed, convolute, or disciform, gelatinous; fertile threads
i not compacted into a true hymenium.

U

6

HYMENOMYCETES.

Synopsis of AGARICINTI. Fries Ep.

I.— Gills soft, membranaceous, splitting longitudinally with ease, edge single.

Genus 1.

Genus 2.

Genus 3.

Genus 4,

Genus 5.

Genus 6.

AGARICUS. 980 Species. Fries Ep.*

Gills neither compacted nor dissolving into black juice ; trama
concrete with the sub-floccose substance of the pileus ; basidia
crowned with sterigmata, bearing simple spores, which are at
length driven off.

COPRINUS. 50 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Gills at first compacted, at length dissolving into black juice ;
trama none; spores brown-purple or blackish. Mostly fime-
tarious.

BOLBITIUS. 6 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Gills at first compacted, at length sub-deliquescent ; spores
ferruginous. Fragile and fugacious, sub-fimicolous, growing
in pastures.

CORTINARIUS.t 216 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Volva, when present discrete ; veil, when present arachnoid or
fibrillose; gills changing colour, becoming dry, powdered with
the cinnamon spores, which are not driven off in drying.
The spores shed on paper appear sub-ochraceous. Fleshy.
Terrestrial.

PAXILLUS. 9 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Pileus fleshy, concrete with the stem; margin at first involute ;
gills forked, rather close, decurrent, inclining to form pores at
the base, easily separable from the pileus; spores globose,
sub-ferruginous. Growing on the ground.

GOMPHIDIUS. 3 Species. Fries Ep.
Sub-genus Gompuus E.F.

Pileus fleshy, concrete with the stem; volva glutinous; gills
distant, decurrent ; spores elongated, somewhat compound.
On the ground in woods.

* Including species from all parts of the world.

{ The generic characters of Cortinarius are obscure. In the index of the
Epicrisis, and in a later work entitled ‘‘ Cortinarii et Hygrophori Sueciz,” M. Fries
gives the “universal, discrete, arachnoid veil” as one of the principal marks:
whereas, in the first species, C caperatus, which he styles “ princeps hujus gregis,”
he rightly describes the universal veil as “floccose-farinose ;”’ in the group Myx-
acium it is glutinous, and in many of the succeeding species it seems obsolete.

7

HYMENOMYCETES.

I].— Gills of a somewhat waxy consistence, splitting longitudinally with difficulty,
Genus7. HYGROPHORUS. 50 Species. Fries Ep.

AGARICUS in part E.F.

Pileus viscid or moist; trama granulose; gills distant, abound-
ing in watery juice, often connected by veins; spores colourless,
at length driven off. Middle sized. Growing on the ground.

Genus 8. LACTARIUS. 64 Species. Fries Ep.
Sub-genus GALORRHEUS E.F.

Pileus fleshy, at length depressed; trama vesiculose; gills
adnato-decurrent, when bruised yielding a milky juice; spores
globose.* Large or middle sized. Growing on the ground
under or near trees.

Genus 9. RUSSULA. 42 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Pileus fleshy, at length depressed; trama vesiculose; gills
juiceless, narrow behind; spores round, yellowish in a few
species. Rather large. Growing on the ground.

Genus 10. CANTHARELLUS. 24 Species. Fries Ep.

Trama concrete with the floccose substance of the pileus ; veil
none; gills somewhat branched, resembling blunt folds; spores
white.

Genus 11. NYCTALIS. 6 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Pileus juicy; gills unequal, edge blunt; volva floceuloso-
pruinose. Rather small. Growing in caves or vaults, or on
decayed Agarics.

111.— Gills tough ; subcarnose, tough or subcoriaceous fungi, hence not readily
decaying.
Genus 12. MARASMIUS. 51 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Pileus thin, at length more or less corrugated, substance dry,
concrete with the floccose trama; gills blunt behind; stem
sub-cartilaginous ; spores sub-eliptic, white. Small or middle-
sized. Growing chiefly on or amongst dead leaves.

Genus 13. LENTINUS. 50 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Pileus coriaceous, substance conerete with that of the stem ;
gills thin, edge acute, broken or dentato-lacerate ; spores white,
rarely yellowish. Of slow growth. Mostly epixylous.

* In all the species of Lactarius that I have examined the spores are more or
less rough or echinulate.

8

HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 14. PANUS. 16 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.

Hymenophore as in the preceding Genus ; gills unequal, edge
acute, entire. Irregularly shaped or lateral. Epixylous.

Genus 15. XEROTUS. 7 Species. Fries Ep.
AGARICUS in part E.F.
Gills adnato-decurrent, branched, resembling folds. Whole
plaut rigid.
1V.— Coriaceous or corky fungi.
Genus 16. SCHIZOPHYLLUM. 3 Species. Fries Ep.

Gills forked, radiating like the spokes of a fan, edge bifid,
segments revolute. Epixylous.

Genus 17. LENZITES. 20 Species. Fries Ep.
Sp. DapaLea. ELF.

Gills forked, radiating, forming pores at the base; edge sub-
acute. Dimidiate fungi growing on wood.

Synopsis of AGARICUS.

Serius I. Leucospori.

Spores colourless or dull white.

' Stem central; veil woven, conspicuous.

Sub-Genus AMANITA.

Volva distinct ; conspicuous fungi growing on the ground; the
ruptured volya usually forms warts or patches on the pileus.

Sub-Genus LIEPIOTA.

Volva concrete with the epidermis of the pileus: gills free, not
rounded behind. Large or middle-sized fungi growing on the
roid) the epidermis of the pileus often broken into squarrose
scales.

Sub-Genus ARMILLARIA.

Veil forming a persistent ring; gills adnate or decurrent.

Stem central ; veil inconspicuous or fibrillose.

Sub-Genus TRICHOLOMA.

Stem fleshy ; gills bluntly rounded behind. Fleshy fungi
growing on the ground ; pileus often covered with a nap.

B 7 9

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Series II.

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

10

HYMENOMYCETUS.

CLITOCYBE.

Stem elastic, stuffed, outer coat compact, fibrous; gills attenua-
ted behind, adnate or decurrent ; pileus for the most part plano-
depressed or infundibuliform. Somewhat fleshy fungi growing
on the ground.

COLLYBIA.

Stem fistulose or pithy, outer coat cartilaginous; gills free or
bluntly adnexed; pileus sub-carnose, plano-convex or depres-
sed; margin at first involute. More or less epixylous.

MYCENA,

Stem fistulose; pileus sub-membranaceous, campanulate; mar-
gin never inyolute; gills not decurrent, except by a tooth.
Graceful. Terrestrial or epixylous.

OMPHALIA.

Stem cartilaginous; pileus sub-membranaceous; gills truly
decurrent.

Excentric, lateral, or sessile.

PLEUROTUS.

Stem excentric, lateral, or noue. Mostly growing upon wood.

Hyporhodii.

Spores rose-coloured.
Gills quite free.
VOLVARIA.

Volva distinct; gills ventricose. Resembling an Amanita,
with reddish spores.

PLUTEUS.
Volva concrete with the epidermis of the pileus.
Gills touching the stem.

ENTOLOMA.

Stem fleshy or fibrous; gills bluntly rounded behind. Some-
what fleshy fungi generally growing on the ground.

CLITOPILUS. j

Stem fleshy or fibrous; gills attenuated behind; sub-decurrent;
pileus more or less depressed.

LEPTONTIA.

Stem cartilaginous, shining; gills adnexed, at length retreat-
ing; pileus thin; margin at first incurved.

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-Genus NOLANEA.

Stem fistulose; pileus sub-membranaceous, campanulate.
Graceful fungi growing on the ground.

Sub-Genus ECCILIA.

Stem cartilaginous; gills truly decurrent.

Serres III. Dermini.
Spores ferruginous, rarely tawney or brownish.

Stem central; veil woven.

Sub-Genus PHOLIOTA.

Veil forming a persistent ring.
Stem central; veil not woven, nor forming a ring.

Sub-Genus HEBELOMA.

Stem fleshy ; gills bluntly rounded behind; spores brownish ;
veil fibrillose or obsolete.

Sub-Genus FLAMMULA.

Stem fleshy-fibrous; gills adnate or decurrent. Chiefly czxs-
pitose fungi growing on wood.

Sub-Genus NAUCORIA.

Stem cartilaginous; pileus convexo-plane; margin at first
inflexed.

Sub-Genus GALERA.
Stem sub-cartilaginous, fistulose; pileus oval or expanded,
sub-membranaceous; margin never inflexed. Graceful, fragile
fungi.
EHaxcentric or lateral.

Sub-Genus CREPIDOTUS.

Pileus excentric, or lateral, or resupinate. Chiefly growing on
wood.

Series IV. Pratelle.

Spores purple-black or brown.
Sub-Genus PSALLIOTA.
Veil forming a persistent ring.

Sub-Genus HYPHOLOMA.

Veil woven, adhering to the margin of the pileus; stem fleshy
or fibrous; pileus somewhat fleshy; margin incurved. Czespi-
tose fungi chiefly growing on ‘wood.

1]

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-Genus PSILOCYBE.

Veil inconspicuous; stem sub-cartilaginous, firm, and tough;
gills becoming brown or purplish; pileas somewhat fleshy,
smooth; margin at first incurved.

Sub-Genus PSATHYRA.

Stem fistulose, shining, fragile; pileus conical or campanulate.
Graceful fungi, fragile and hygrophanous.

Serres V. Coprinarii.
Spores black.

Sub-Genus PAN AZOLUS.

Stem smooth, rather firm; gills ascending, dappled grey and
black, becoming moist, at first projecting beyond the margin ;
slightly fleshy fungi, usually growing in dungy places.

Sub-Genus PSATHYRELLA.

Pileus membranaceous, striated; gills smoky, not dappled,
nor projecting beyond the margin.

Synopsis of COPRINUS.

Tre I. PHLIICULOSI.

Gills attached to a pellicle, causing the pileus to be torn irre-
gularly in deliquescence.

Tre U. VELIFORMUES.

Pileus extremely thin, splitting in the direction of the gills in
deliquescence.

Synopsis of CORTINARIUS.

Sub-Genus PHLEGMACIUM.
Veil fibrillose, dry; stem firm, dry; pileus evenly fleshy.

Sub-Genus MYXACIUM.

Volva glutinous, whence the stem is viscid; scarcely bulbous ;
pileus fleshy, rather thin; gills adnate decurrent.

Sub-Genus INOLOMA.

Veil simple; pileus evenly fleshy, dry; stem fleshy, sub-bulbous.
12

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

Sub-Genus

HYMENOMYCETES.

DERMOCYBE.

Veil simple; pileus thinly but evenly fleshy, at first silky, then
bare, dry; stem equal or attenuated, outer coat harder.

TELAMONIA.

Pileus hygrophanous, becoming thin abruptly; volva from
beneath investing the stem with a ring or squamose sheath;
stem from above sub-cortinated.

HYGROCYBE.

Pileus smooth, thin, hygrophanous; web of the. veil properly
adhering to the margin ; stem altogether smooth, sub-cartilagi-
nous.

Synopsis of HYGROPHORUS.

LIMACIUM.

Volva viscid; pileus fleshy, viscid; stem scaly; gills adnato-
decurrent.

CAMAROPHYLLUS.

Veil none; stem smooth; pileus moist, not viscid; gills
vaulted, distant.

HYGROCYBE.

Veil none; whole plant somewhat thin, succulent; chiefly
brightly coloured fungi, growing in open grassy places.

Synopsis of LACTARIUS.

Trae Il. PIPERITES.

Milk from the first white, acrid; gills neither changing colour
nor whitely pruinose.

Tre Il. DAPETES.

Tree III.

Tre JV.

Milk from the first highly coloured.

RUSSULARES.
Gills at length whitely pruinose.

LATERIPEDES.

Excentric.

13

HYMENOMYCETES.

Synopsis of RUSSULA.

Tre Il. COMPACTE.
Pileus fleshy ; margin smooth; stem solid; gills unequal.

Terme Il. FIRMA.

Pileus firmly fleshy, viscid when moist, abruptly thin towards
the margin, which is obsoletely striate.

Tree I. RIGID.
Pileus dry ; cuticle often granulose; gills not numerous.

Tre IV. FRAGILES.

Pileus covered with a pellicle, which, when moist, is viscid and
sub-separable ; margin commonly furrowed and tuberculated.

Synopsis of MARASMIUS.

Sub-Genus COLLYBIA.

Pileus sub-carnose, tough, at length sub-coriaceous, corrugated ;
margin at first involute ; stem floccose at the base.

Sub-Genus ROTULA.

Stem filiform ; pileus nearly plain or umbilicated. Small fungi
chiefly growing on leaves.

Synopsis of POLYPOREIL. Fries Ep.

Genus 18. BOLETUS, L. 60 Species. Fries Ep.

Pileus fleshy, furnished with a central stem; fructifying
surface consisting of tubes easily separable from the pileus,
and amongst themselves. Terrestrial.

Genus 19. POLYPORUS, Micheli. 280 Species. Fries Ep.

Pores sub-rotund, at first obsolete or very small; dissepiments
more or less distinct from the pileus in substance or in colour.

Genus 20. TRAMETES, Fries. 20 Species. Fries Ep.

Pileus corky or woody; substance forming sub-rotund, not
sinuous, pores. Arboreal or epixylous.

Genus 21. DASDALIA, Persoon. 16 Species. Fries Ep.

Pileus corky; substance forming elongated sinuous pores.
Arboreal or epixylous.

14

HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 22. MERULILUS, Haller. 20 Species. Fries Ep.
Hymenophore sub-floccose ; pores incomplete, sometimes mere
shallow cavities or sinuous depressions. Epixylous.

Genus 23. POROTHELIUM, Fries. 4 Species. Fries Ep.
Resupinate, expanded; substance woven from the mycelium;
sub-membranaceous, with projecting papilla, which are distinct
from the first, soon open pore-wise, at length elongated, tubular.

Genus 24. FISTULINA, Bulliard. 2 Species. Fries Ep.

Pileus fleshy ; tubes at first wart-like, closed, at length open-
Epixylous.

Synopsis of POLYPORUS.
Sub-Genus MESOPUS.

Pileus entire; stem simple, central; base of the same colour.

Sub-Genus PLEUROPUS.
Pileus tough or corky, horizontal, not circinate; stem simple,
ascending, corticated, either distinctly lateral, or excentric
with a black base. Arboreal or epixylous.

Sub-Genus MERISMA.
Stem compound, arising from a common tubercle or base,
extremities bearing numerous pileoli.

Sub-Genus APUS.

Pileus sessile, properly adnate and dimidiate, with a thickened
and dilated base; or entire, attached by an umbo; or attenuated
at the base; or sometimes, but not normally, wholly resu-
pinate.

1. ANODERMET.
Pileus n@@covered by a cuticle, zoneless ; annual.

Il. PLACODERMET.

Pileus becoming hard, covered with a close crust, zoneless or
concentrically grooved. Persistent.

lil. JNODERMET.
Pileus from the first dry and firm, covered with a thin fibrous.

cuticle.
Sub-Genus RESUPINATUS.
Pileus none ; jores springing from the inycclium without any

intervening substance.
15

HYMENOMYCETES.

Synopsis of HYDNEI. Fries Ep.
Genus 25. HYDNUM, L. 96 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenial processes concrete, spine-like, free. Basidia firm ;
sterigmata chiefly quaternate.

Genus 26. SISTOTREMA, Pers. 5 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenial processes inferior, sub-discrete, forming dentate or
spinous, curved, lamellulae, irregularly disposed ; Basidia firma
tetrasporous.

Genus 27. IRPEX, Fries. 20 Species. Fries Ep.
Hymenial processes concrete, sub-coriaceous, spine-like, dis-
posed in ranks or reticulations, anastomosing at the base.

Genus 28. RADULUM, Fries. 10 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenial processes of no constant shape, commonly elongated,
more or less truncate or obtuse, scattered or collected in
patches. Resupinate, epixylous.

Genus 29. PHLEBIA, Fries. 3 Species. Fries, Ep.
Hymenium amphigenous, corrugated, then smooth, with in-
terrupted wrinkles; resupinato-effused, cartilaginous when dry.

Genus 30. GRANDINIA, Fries. 7 Species. Fries Ep.
Hymenial processes papillose, or rather granulose, close;
effused; substance forming a somewhat soft crust. Basidia
filiform, interlacing, monosporous.

Genus 31. ODONTTA, Fries. 5 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenial processes wart-like or papillose, rarely spine-like,
multifid at the apex, resupinate ; substance fibrous, dry, not
waxy. Basidia filiform, monosporous.

Genus 82. KNEIFFIA, Fries. 1 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenium beset with rigid bristles ; substance soft, flocculose.

Synopsis of AURICULARINI. Fries Ep.

Genus 88. CRATERELLIUS, Fries. 12 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenium inferior, sub-ceraceous, with indistinct or raised
veins ; pileus stipitate, tubiform, or infundibuliform, between
fleshy and membranaceous. Terrestrial.

16

HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 84. THELEPHORA, Ehrh. 56 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenium sub-inferior, with costate, ramose, or papillose
striz, concrete with the woven, floccose, or fibrous hymeno-
phore, which is destitute of a proper cuticle.

Genus 35, STEREUM, Fries. 56 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenium inferior, smooth, or spuriously nodulose, concrete
with the coriaceous or woody, persistent, hymenophore ; re-
flexed disc, when present, zoned, with a crust-like or fibrous

cuticle.

Genus 36. AURICULARIA, Fries. 4 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenium remotely and irregularly costatoplicate, when
moist sub-gelatinous, tumid; hymenophore coriaceous, per-
sistent, but shrinking very much when dry.

*Genus 37. CORTICIUM, Fries. 51 Species. Fries Ep.

Hymenium amphigenous, of a soft fleshy or waxy consistence,
undulated or papillose; when dry shrinking and becoming
hard, smooth, often rimose ; hymenophore resupinate, floccose,
frequently disappearing except at the margin, leaving only
the fertile stratum on the matrix.

Genus 38. CYPHELLA, Fries. 15 Species. Fries Ep.
Hymenium forming the concave surface of the cup-shaped,
membranaceous pileus.

Synopsis of THELEPHORA.

I. WESOPUS.

; Stem simple, central.

Il. PLEUROPUS.
Stem simple, lateral.

Il. WERISMA,
Substipitate, broken up into irregular branches, or imbricato-
cespitose ; base not efiused.

IV. APUS.
Sessile; base spreading; margin free, effigurate, laciniate or
lobate.

V. RESUPINATUS.
Resupinate ; margin byssoid or fibrillose.

* The species of Stereum and Corticeum are very frequently found in an ab-

normal, sterile, membranaceous condition, especially when growing on the bark of
trees,

HYMENOMYCETES,.

Synopsis of STEREUM.

I. MESOPUS.

Stem central, distinct, simple.
Il. PLEUROPUS.

Pileus distinct ; stem lateral.
Ill. MERISIA.

Pilei cespitose ; substipitate.
IV. APUS.

Hymenophore sessile, at first wholly resupinate, at length with
a reflexed disc, never adhering closely to the matrix; margin
defined.

V. RESUPINATUS.

Hymenophore, resupinate, crustaceo-adnate, but capable of
being separated from the matrix entire ; margin never byssoid.

Synopsis of CORTICIUM:
I, APUS.

Hymenophore not adhering closely to the matrix; margin
defined, somewhat loose or reflexed.

Il. HIMANTIA.

Effused, indeterminate ; margin byssoid, or strigose and free.
The hymenium, when in right order, has a beautiful appearance,
and is of a soft waxy consistence.

Wl. LHIOSTROMA.

Hymenium adhering closely to the matrix, for the most part
without any intervening hymenophore, the mycelium rapidly
changing into hymenium, and appearing, if at all, only at the
margin, where it somewhat abruptly thins out.

Synopsis of CLAVARET. Fries Ep.

Genus 39. CLAVARIA. Vaill. 64 Species. Fries Ep.

Fleshy, branched or simple, terete, hymenium superficial,
wax-like; dry, persistent. Basidia tetrasporous. Mostly
terrestrial.

Genus 40. CALOCERA. Fries. 12 Species. Fries Ep.

Gelatinoso-cartilaginous, horny when dry, branched or simple.
Hymenium visvid. Basidia filiform, branched, bearing spores
at the tips. Epixylous.

18

HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 41. TYPHULIA. Fries. 14 Species. Fries Ep.

Sub-byssoid ; stem filiform, flaccid, invested towards the apex
by the discrete hymenium. Delicate, chiefly found on or,
amongst dead leaves. Basidia forked; sterigmata long,
subulate.

Genus 42. PISTILLARIA. Fries. 10 Species. Fries Ep.

Minute, club-shaped, between waxy and horny. Stem
cylindrical, dilated above, invested the hymenium. Basidia
simple or forked. Found mostly on dead leaves or stems.

Synopsis of TREMELLIN A‘. Fries Ep.
Genus 43. TREMELLA. Pers.

Soft, homogeneous, multiform, often somewhat transparent.

Genus 44. EXIDIA. Fries. 12 Species. Fries Ep.

Stroma firm, elastic, more or less cup-shaped, covered above
only by the hymenium.

Genus 45. NASMATELIA. Fries. 3 Species. Fries Ep.

Stroma covered on all sides by the hymenium, and enclosing
a compact fleshy nucleus.

Genus 46. DACRYMYCES. Nees.

Stroma tuberculiform, sessile, covered by the hymenium:
spores concatinate.

Ly ate ape

BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Fam. 1. AGARI CINI. . Fnies.
Genus 1. AGARICUS. L.
Srries 1. Leucospori.

Sub-genus 1. AMANITA.

A. pHatiorwes. Fr. Hebe iL.
A. muscarius. L. HLF. 4.
3 A. PANTHERINUS. Dec. E.F. 6.
4 A. STROBILIFORMIS. Vit. An. 662.
5 A. Mappa. Willd. An. 1388.
@ A. RuBESsCENS. Pers. HE. 8.
7 A. ExcELsus. Fr. AD ihe ie
A. asper. Pers. E.F. 9.
A. vacrnatus. Bull. E.F. 2.
var, NIVALIS. Grev. E.F. 3.
10 A4+CECILIZ. Berk. An. 663.

Sub-genus 2. LEPIOTA.
11 A. pRocERUs. Scop. E.F. 10,
12 A. RACHODES. Vit. An. 257.
20

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES

13 A. Excorratus. Scheff. E.F. 11.
14 A. masrorpgus. Fr. An. 1.
15 A. acurE-squamosus. Wein.—A. Maniax. KIE.F. 5. An. 139.
16 A.|BapuHamt. Berk. An. 664.
17 A. ctypronaRtius. Bull. E.F. 13.
18 A.}potysrricrus. Berk. E.F, 14.
19 A. cristatus. Fr. E.F. 16. syn.
20 A. ta=MaToPHyLLus. Berk. An. 38.
21 A. capmHstiprs. E.F. 12?
22 A. GRanuxtosus. Batsch. E.F. 17.
var. AMIANTHINUS.=A. cRocEus. Bolt. t. 51. fig 2.

Sub-genus 3. ARMILLARIA.

23 A. consrrictus. Fr. E.F. 18.

24 A. mewieus. Vahl. H.F. 20.

25. A. taricinus. Bolt. t. 19.

26 A. mitius. Sow. E.F. 88.

27 A. mucrpus. Schrad. E.F. 19.

Sub-genus 4. TRICHOLOMA.

I. LIMACINA.

28 A. nquesrris. L. An. 665.

29 A. sEsuNcTUS. Sow. E.F. 388.

30 A. porrENtTosus. Fr. An. 666.

31 A. Fucatus. Fr. E.F. 29.

32 A. nicrirans. Bull. An. 667.

33 A. FLAvVoBRUNNEUS. Fr.=A. runvus. E.F, 28 syn.

34 A. aLrpoprunneus. Pers. H.F. 27.

35 A. FRUMENTACEUS. Bull. An. 678.
Il. GENUINA.

36 A. RurimANs. Schoeff. E.F. 32.

37 A. LuRipus. Scheff. E.F. 30.

38 A. CotumBetta. Fr. E.F. 37. An. 259.

39 A. mpricatus. Fr. E.F. 33.

40 A. vaccinus. Scheff. E.F. 34.

41

LIST OF BRITISH HYMMNOMYCETES.

A. TERREUS.=A. ARGYRACEUS. Bull. E.F. 36.

42}+A. MULTIFORMIS. Scheef. E.F. 35.

43
44

45
46
47

48
49
50
51
52

53
54

67

Ill. RIGIDA.

A. meveacris. Sow. E.F. 15.

A. cunetrouius. Fr. E.F. 109.

IV. SERICELLA.

A. sutpuurevs. Bull. E.F. 104.

A. zascrvus. Fr. E.F. 105.

A. waments. Fr. E.F. 106.

V. GUITATA.

A. camposus. Fr. An. 140.

VI. SPONGIOSA.

A. personates. Fr. E.F. 39.

A. novus. Bull. E.F. 40.

A. acersus. Bull. An. 668.

VI. HYGROPHANA.

A. crammopopius. Bull. E.F. 87. E.F.79 descrip. An. 61.
A. Brevipes. Bull.=A. BLANDUS. E.F. 41. An. 260.
A. SUBPULVERULENTUS. Pers. An. 669.

Sub-genus 5. CLITOCYBE.
DISCIFORMES.
_ NEBULARIS. Batsch.=A. CANALICULATUS. E.F. 80.
. CLAVIPES. Pers.=A. MOLLIS. Bolt. t. 40.
_ rumosus. Pers. E.F. 81. ‘

> b> PP

_ rvornatus. Sow. E.F. 89.

A. viriprs. With. E.F. 82.

A. oporus. Bull. E.F. 83.

A. verntcosus. Fr.=A. FLAVIDUS. Sow. t. 366.

A. cerussatus. Fr. E.F. 86. An. 670.

A. puytiopHinus. Pers. E.F. 78.

A. canpicans. Pers. E.F. 84.

A. peatpatus. Sow. E.F. 85.

A. cattanaceus. Scop. Bolt. t. 4, fig. 2-

I. DIFFORMES.

A. opacus. With. Sow. t. 142. E.F. 86 syn.
22

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Il. JNFUNDIBULIFORMES.
A. GicantEus. Sow. E.F. 76.
A. ivunprputivormis. Scheeff. E.F. 75 syn.
70 A. citvus. Pers. E.F. 73. An. 265.
A. Georrupus. Bull. =A. mruNDIBULIFoRMIS. var. 8 m. E.F.75.
A. inversvs. Scop.=A. FIMBRIATUS. var. A. LoBATus. E.F. 90.
A. Fuaccipus. Sow. E.F. 74.
IV. CYATHIFORMES.
74 A. cyaruirormis. Bull. K.F. 177.
V. ORBIFORMES.
75 A. meracurous. Fr. K.F. 176.
6 A. rracrans. Sow. E.F. 175.
VI. VERSIFORMES.

77 A. pirFormis.* Pers.=A. umBiicatus. Bolt. t. 17.
78 A. Betuus. Pers. E.F. 103.
79 A. waccatus. Scop. E.F. 102.

var. FARINACEUS. Sow. t. 208.
var. AMETHYSTINUS. Sow. t. 187.
80 A. rortiuts. Bolt. t. 41.

Sub-genus 6. COLLYBIA.
I. STRLEPODES.
81 A. rapicatus. Relh. E.F. 110.
82 A. LonorpEs. Bull. An. 64.
83 A. pLAtypHyLuus. Fr. An. 263 and 323.
84 A. rusires. Bull. F.F. 119.
85 A. macunatus. Alb. and Schw. E.F. 113.
86 A. Buryracrus. Bull. E.F. 114.
87 A. EPHIPPIUM.* Fr.=A. compressus. Sow. E.F. 115 ?
88 A. puLxus. Schoeff.=A. concineus. Bolt. t. 15.
Il. VESTIPEDES.
89 A. vELuTIPEs. Curt. E.F. 111.
90 A. Laxrprs. Bat. Sow. t. 263 ?

* See Epicrisis, page 121, on A. umbilicatus.
* See Epicrisis, page 54, on A, lixivius.

LISst OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

91 A. sTIPLITARIUS. Fy. A. CAULICINALIS. E.F. 1386.

92 A. atumnos. Fr. Bolt. t. 155. E.F. 128 syn.

93 A. coNFLUENS. Pers. iPRee Ue

94 A. contcenus. Pers. E.F. 126.

95 A.}+UNDATUS. Berk. E.F. 127. An. 43.

96 A. tTuBERosus. Bull. E.F. 128. An, 44.

97 A, racemosus. Pers. An. 45.
Ill. LAVIPEDES.

98 A. xantHopus. Fr. E.F. 117.

99 A. ESCULENTUS. Wulf. E.F. 124.

100 A. TENACELLUS. Pers. E.F. 125.

101 A. DRYOPHYLLUS. Bull. E.F. 118.

102 A. ciavus. Bull. E.F. 130.

103 A. ocenLatus. Fr. BF? 129.

104 A. Micuentanus. Fr.=A. EBURNEUS. Bolt. t. 4, fig. 2-
Iv. TEPHROPHANZL.

105 A. atratus. Fr. An. Cte

Sub-genus 7. MYCENA.
Il. CALODONTES.
106 A. PELIANTHINUS. Fr. E.F. 107. An. 2.
107 A. BALANINUS. Berk. An. 42.
108 A. ELEGANS. Pers. BE. 150.
109 A. STROBILINUS. Pers. E.F. 151.
Il. ADONIDE.
110 A. purus. Pers. E.F. 152.
111 A. Aponts. Bull. E.F. 1538.
112 A. LUTEO-ALBUS. Bolt. H.F. 154.
113 A. tacreus. Pers. E.F. 155.
Ill. RIGIDIPEDES.
114 A. prouirervs. Sow. t. 169. K.F. 146 syn.
115 A. GaLericuLatus. Scop. E.F. 146.
116 A. POLYGRAMMUS. Bull. E.F. 147.
117 A. parapoxicus. Alb. and Schw. Sow. t. 165. E.F. 146 syn.
IV. FRAGILIPEDES.
118 A. ATRO-ALBUS. Bolt. E.F. 141.
24

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES,

119 A. pissiniens. Fr.=A. psEupo-cLypEatus. Bolt. t. 154.
120 A. atcainus. Fr, H.F. 145.

V. FILOPEDES.
121 A. rinores. Bull. E.F, 142.
122 A.}igts, Berk. EK. BF. 143.
123 A.}paupercutus. Berk. E.F. 144.
124 A. vitriis. Bull.=A. Tenurs. Sow. t. 385. f. 5.

VI. LACTIPEDES.
125 A. crurntus. Fr. Sow t. 385 f. 2, 3.
126 A. sanquinotentus. Alb. and Schw. E.F. 149.
127 A. crocatus. Schrad. An. 672.
128 A. cHELiponius. Fr.=A. pumitus. Sow. t. 385 fig. 4.
129 A. Gatopus. Pers. EF. 148.

VIL GLUVINIPEDES.
130 A. EpritERyeius. Scop. E.F. 159.
131 A.{campropuyiius. Berk. K.F. 160.
132 A. vunearts. Pers. An. 46.
155 A. rorivus. Fr. E.F. Appendix.

VII. BASIPEDES.
134 A. stynopates. Pers. .F. 156.
135 A. pinatratus. Fr.

CLAVULARIS. Bats. =A. TeNERRIMUS. Berk. E.F. 157.

156 A. preeicenus. Fr. .F. 164. An. 47.

IX. INSITITiA.
137 A. Hinmatis. Retz.=A. corticota. E.F. 161 syn.
138 A. sErosus. Sow. I.F. 166.
139 A. capinnaARis. Schum. E.F. 165.
140 A. sunotcona, Fr. E.F. 163.

Sub-genus 8. OMPHALITA.
I. COLLYBIAREZ.
141 A. pyxipatus. Bull. E.F. 170. An. 144.
142 A.|spHaGcnicoLa. Berk. E.T. 174,
143 A.{rurutus. Berk. An. 325.
144 A, ontscus Fr.=A. cmsprrosus. Bolt. t. 41.

Cr

D rs

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

145 A.}+Beture. Johnst. MSS. An. P43:

146 A. murnauis. Swartz. E.F. 171 syn?

147 A. umpeviirerus. L. ELF. 172. An. 267.

148 A.}uetveLLorpes. Bull. An. 324.

149 A. srecuatus. Fr. E.F. 168. An. 268.
Il. MYCENARL4.

150 A. campanenta. Batsch. E.F. 173.

151 A. erisnus. Fr. An. 141.

152 A. rrputa. Bull. E.F. 169.

153 A. wrecretuus. Pers. E. 167. An. 142.

Sub-genus 9. PLEUROTUS.

Il. EXCENTRICTI.
154 A. pryinus. Pers. E.F. 182.
155 A. utmarius. Bull. E.F. 192.
156 A. rowpriatus. Bolt. E.F. 90. An, 672.
157 A. auanpuxosus. Bull. E.F. 185.
158 A. ostreatus. Jacq. E.F. 186.
159 A.tEvosmos. Huss. An. 326.
160 A. satienus. Pers. E.F. 187.

Il. DIMIDIATI.
161 A. peratores. Bull. E.F. 188.
162 A. mitts. Pers. E.F. 195. An. 48.
163 A. TREMuLUS. Scheeff. E.F. 197.
164 A. acerosus. Fr. An. 673.

Tl. RESUPINATI.
165 A. porricens. Pers. E.F. 189,
166 A. sEpricus. Fr. E.F. 198.
167 A. masrrucatus. Fr. E.F. 196.
168 A.} Letcutont. Berk. An. 270.
169 A. arrocaruteus. Fr. An. 674.
170 A. appricatus. Batsch. E.F. 201.
17] A. srrratutus. Pers. H.F. 202.

26

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Serius IT. Hyporhodii.
Sub-genus 10. VOLVARIA.

172 A. BompByctnus. Scheff. E.F. 281.
173 A. votvacrus. Bull. E.F. 282,
174 A. Lovetanus. Berk. E.F. 283.
175 A. spectosus. Fr. E.F. Appendix.
176 A. mEpius. Schum. E.F. 284.
177 A. aLorocEPHALus. Dec. An. 5. ?
178 A.+Taynort. Berk. An. 675.

Sub-genus 11. PLUTEUS.

179 A. cervinus. Scheff. = A. Piureus. E.F. 211.

180 A. nanus. Pers. An. 676.

181 A. perasatus. Fr. An. 271.

182 A. LEeontnus. Scheeff. E.F. 209.

183 A. curysopHaZus. Scheeff. — A. MoLLiuscuLus. Sow. t. 174.
184 A. pHLEBOoPHORUS. Ditm. E.F. 212. An. 676.

Sub-genus 12. ENTOLOMA.

I. GENUINI.
185 A.+ Broxamr. Berk. An. 677.
186 A. mapipus. Fr. = A. purpureus. Bolt. t. 41. f. B.
187 A. arposracus. Bull. E.F. 208.
Il. LEPTONIDEI.
188 A. GRisko-cyangus. Fr. E.F. 213.
189 A. sericenuus. Fr. E.F. 204.
Il. NOLANIDEI.
190 A. crypeatus. L. = A. Fertiis. E.F. 206. syn.
var. MAMMOosUS. Bolt. E.F. 207.
191 A. raopoporius. Fr. E.F. 205.

192 A. costratus. Fr. An. 679.

Sub-genus 138. CLITOPILUS.

193 A, prunutus. Scop. I.1. 2038.
27

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus 14. LEPTONIA.

194 A. tampropus. Fr. An. 145.
195 A. serroLarus, Fr. An. 146.
cuLuMBAnius. Bull. .F. 215.
196 A. cuatyBEus. Pers. E.F. 214.
197 A. wcanus. Fr = A. Sowrenser Berk. E. F. 217.

Sub-genus 15. NOLANEA.

198 A.4Bapinetonu. Blox. An. 680.
199 A. pascuus. Pers. E.F. 216..

Sub-genus 16. TCCILIA.
200 A}ruro-carneus. Berk. E.F. 218.

Series III. Dermini.
Sub-genus 17. PHOLIOTA.

I. HUMIGENEL. 5
A. ausEus. Mathusk. E IF. 241.
A. pornos. Bolt. An. 327.
2085 A. precox. Pers. E.F. 287.
A. spuaceromorpnus. Bull. E.F. 287.
UH. ZRUNCIGENEI.
A. rAvicosus. Bull. E.F 245.
2064+ A. secontnus. Berk. An. 528.
207 A. popicus. Fr. = A. caperatus. E. F. 242.
208 A. comosus. Fr. = A. vinxosus. Bolt. t. 42. K.P. 244. syn.
209 A. aurtvettus. Batsch. E.F. 244. An. 680.
210 A. squarrosus. Mull. E.F. 246.
211 A. apiposus. Batsch. E.F. 245.
212 A. roamMans. Batsch. E.F. 247.
218 A. muraBiuis. Scheff. E.F. 248.
Ill- MUSCIGENEI.
214 A.}meEsopactyttus. Berk. An. 329.
215 A. mycenorwes. Fr. An. 681.
28

Ie

216 A.
i 2A.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYOCETES.

Sub-genus 18. HEBELOMA.
SQUARROSLI.
RELIcCINUS. Fr. F.F. 259.
LANuGiINosus. Bull. F.F. 261.

218 A.}rioccutosus. Berk. F.F. 262.

219 A.
220 A.

ll.
221 A.
222 A.

223 A.

224 A.

Ill
225 A.
226 A.

pPLoumosus. Bolt. F.F. 260.

FriBrosus. Sow. E.F. 256.

LACERI.

pyrioporus. Pers H.F. 257.

scaBER, Mull. I.F. 258.

maARitiMus. Fr. H.H.H.

opscurus. Pers. An. 682.

RIMOST.

REPANDUs. Bull. H.F. 210. An. 676.
rimosus. Bull. E.F. 263.

227 A.}Hooxeurr. Klotzsch, E.F. 264.

IV.
228 A.
229 A.
oY,
930 A.

iE
239 A,

VELUTINI.

SAMBuUcINUS. Fr. Sow. t. 414?
GEOPHYLLUsS. Sow. E.F. 265.
IND USTATTI.

FASTIBILIS. Pers. HK. F. 251.
DENUDATI.

. cRusTULINIFORMIS. Bull, E.F. 251. Syn. H.H.H.
. ELATUS. Batsch. E.F. 250.

Sub-genus 19. FLAMMULA.

. viyosus. Bull. Bolt. t. 55.

. LENTUus. Pers. E.F. 255.

. Fusus. Batsch.=A. pomposus. Bolt. t. 5. E.F. 292. syn,
. FuAvipus. Schoeff. E.F. 252. An. 330.

. iInopus. Fr. E.F. 258.

. SAPINEUS. Fr. E.F. 254.

Sub-genus 20. NAUCORIA.
GYMNOTTI. .
Cucumis. Pers. E.I". 269.

29

240 A.
Odd A.
242 A.
243 A.

100
244 A.
Pye
246 A.
347 A.

WH:
248 A.
249 A.
950 A.

wo wo
Aer
ies)
b
>

Ww w
o

for} >i
>

Q58 A.
259 A.
260 A.
Q614A.
262 A.
Q63} A.

IL.
Q64 A.
265 A.

30

_ cHEIMoNOPHILUS. Berk An. 687.

LIST OF RRITISH HYMENOMYCETLS.

centuNcuLus. Fr. An. 72
norizonTaLis. Bull. E.F. 162. An. 331.
nucevs. Bolt. t. 70.

MELINOIDES. Bull. E.F. 272.
PHAZOTI.

vervacti. Fr. An. 273.
pepiaDEs. Fr. An. 683.
SEMIORBICULARIS. Bull. An. 274.
inquininus. Fr. E.F. 268.
LEPIDOTI.

rurruracevs. Pers. E.F. 267.
ertnaceus. Fr. E.F. 266.

srparius. Fr. An. 684.

Sub-genus 21. GALENRA

. pruives. Sow. E.F. 158.

. tarEritius. Fr. E.F. 270.

_ tener. Scheff. E.F. 271.

. conrERTuS. Bolt. t. 18.
. SPARTEUS. Fr.=A. ATRO-RUFUS. Bolt. t. ‘BL. fig. 1.
_ Hypnorum. Batsch. E.F. 273. syn.

Sub-genus. CREPIDOTUS.

~

EUDERMINI.

paLmatus.* Bull. E.F. 193.

AtvEoLus. Lasch. An. 685.

moturs. Scheeff. E.F. 276.

curongEus. Pers. E.F. 200.

HAUSTELLARIS. Fr. E.F. 277

Rust. Berk. E.F. 278.

HYPODERMINI.

vaRiABiuis. Pers. E.F. 279.

pEPLuEns. Batsch. An. 73.=A. HYPNOPHILUS. PrH.F; 199:

* See on A. subpalmatus. Epicrisis. p. 131.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCHTES.

266 A. ByssIsEDUs. Pers. An. 686.
267 A. pEzizomEs. Nees. E.F. 280

Series IV. Pratellee.

Sub-genus 23. PSALLIOTA.

Il. LEPIOTIDEZL.
268 A. campsstris. L. E.F. 286.
269 A. arvensis. Schoeeff.=A. Groret. E.F. 285.
270 A. cretaceus. Fr. An. 148.
271 A. Ecurnatus. Roth. An. 147.
Il. PHOLIOTIDEIL.
272 A. veRsIcoLor. With. E.F. 289.
273 A. mRuUGINosus. Curt. H.F. 290.
274 A. squamosus. Fr. E.F. appendix. |
375 A. srerRcorARius. Fr. An. 688. E.F. 294. ?
376 A. sEmMIGLOBATUS. Batsch. E.F. 288.

Sub-genus 24. HYPHOLOMA.

I. TENACES.
277 A. sUBLATERITIUS. Fr.=A. LaTERitivs. H.F. 292.
278 A. rascticuLARIs. Huds. E.F. 298.

Ul. HYGROPHILI.
279 A. LacHRyMABUNDUs. Bull. E.F. 291.
280 A. veLutTrnus. Pers. Sow. t. 41.
281 A. Canporuianus. Fr. E.F. 299.
282 A. APPENDICULATUS. Bull. Sow. t. 324.

Sub-genus 25. PSILOCYBE.
I. RIGIDI.
283 A.+arrnoLatus. Klotzsch. E.F. 297.
284 A. spapiceus.* Scheff.=A. strearus. E.F. 298.
POLYCEPHALUS. Bolt. t. 11.

* A. PAPYRACEUS. Pers, E. F. 314, is referred to this species. seo on A.
OBTUSATUS, Epicrisis, p, 282.

31

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

285 A. cprnuus. Fr. E.F. 302.
286 A.}errrons. Berk. E.F. 303.
257 A. squauEens. I'r.—A pianus. Sow. 862.
288 A. ranisect. Pers, H.F. 296.
Il. TENACES.
289 A. ertcmus. Pers. An. 149.
290 A. coproruinus. Bull. An. 689.
291 A. BuLLAcEeus. Bull. E.F. 301.
292 A. puysanoiprs, Bull. An. 690
293 A. catxosus. Fr. E.F. 295.
294 A. semmbANcreaTus. Fr. Sow. 248. f. 1-3.

Sub-genus 26. PSATHYRA.

295 A. corruats. Pers. E.F. 305.

296 A. rrerttiosus. Pers. E.F. 300.

297 A. cossypinus. 'y.—A. aquosus. Bolt. t. 71. f. 1.
298 A. NoLI-TANGERE. Fir.—A. xyLopHius. Sow. t. 167.

Series V. Coprinarii.
Sub-genus 27. PANAZOLUS.

299 A. smparatus. Fr.—A. semiovatrus. Sow. E.F. 307.
800 A. ruupuTeRis. Bull. E.F. 308.

301 A. papitionacrus. Bull. E.F, 309.

302 A. crncruxus. Bolt. t. 152.

804 A. Fimicota. Fr.—A. varius. Bolt. t. 66. f. 1.

Sub-genus. PSATHYRELLA.
805 A. cractuis. Pers. E.F. 306.
306 A. aromatus. Fr. Ii.F. 304.
307 A. pissEminATUS. Pers. E.F. 315.

Genus 2. COPRINUS.
J. PELLICULOSI.
308 C. comatus. Bat. E.F. 316. syn.
32

332
333

Ole 1O1@ (O1@ +e 1a

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

. STERQUILINUS. Fr, E.F. 3817. An 150.

. oBLECTUS. Bolt. t. 142.

. ATRAMENTARTUS. Bull. E.F. 319.

. LuRIDuS. Bolt. t. 25.

. PicacEus. Bull. E.F. 318.

. APTHosus. Fr.—A. pomexsticus. Bolt. E.F. 324.
. Exstinctorivus. Fr. Bolt. t. 24.

. Fimerarius. L.A. cinereus. Bull. E.F. 321.

mAcRoRHIzUS. Pers. H.F. 322,
PULLATUS.—A. STERCORARIUS. Sow. t. 262.

- TOMENTOsSUS. Bull. Bolt. t. 156. E.F. 821 syn.
. NivEus. Pers. EH.F. 3238.

. MicaAcEus. Bull. EF. 320.

. RADIANS. Desm. E.F. 325.

. VELIFORMES.

. Henpersont. Berk. E.F. 328.

. RADIATUs. Bolt. E.F. 331.

STERCOREUS. Fr.—A. stercorARIUS. Bull. E.F. 329.

. EPHEMERUS. Bull. E.F. 830.

C. }acrocePHatus. Berk. E.F. 326.

yA

C.

Bans

PLICATILIS. Sow. H.F. 327.
striatus. Bull. E.F. 310.
HEMEROBIUS. Fr.—A CAMPANULATUS. Bolt. t. 31

Genus 3. BOLBITIUS.

. vVITELLINUS. Pers. E.F. 311.

. Borront. Pers. E.F. 312. Bolt. t. 149.
. FRAGILIS. L.A. EQuEstRIs. Bolt. t. 65.
. TITUBANS. Bull. E.F. 313.

Genus 4. CORTINARIUS.
Sub-genus 1. PHLEGMACIUM.

. CAPERATUS. Fr. An. 691.
. varius. Scheeff. K.F. 233.

334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341

342

343
B44
345
346
BAT
348

349
350
351
352
353

304

355
356
857

Q

C.

(Mme) ere} (2a:

34

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

. cyaNopus. Secr.—=A. arAucopus: Sow. 223.

. ANFRACTUS. Fr. An. 692.

- MULTIFORMIs. Fr.—A. TURBINATUS. Sow. t. 102. E.F.233 syn.
. GLAuCoPUS. Schoeff. An. 4.

. CALLOcHROUS. Pers. E.F. 231, and E,F. 232, descrip.

. C@RULESCENS.* Schceff.—A. cyanus. Pers. An. 68.

. TURBINATUS. Bull. E.F. appendix.

- scauRus. Fr. E.F. 2380.

Sub-genus 2. MYXACIUM.

COLLINITUS. Sow. E.F. 249.

Sub-genus 8. INOLOMA.

. vioLacgEus. L. E.F. 227.

. HincINus. Fr.—A. vionacrus. Bolt. t. 52.
. Burtrarpi. Pers. An. 693.

. BoLARTIS. Pers. An. 69.

. PHOLIDEUS. Fr. An, 272.

. SUBLANATUS. Sow. E.F. 225.

Sub-genus 4. DERMOCYBE.

. MYRTILLINUS. Fr.—A. BuxLBosus. Bolt. t. 147.
. ANoMALUS. Fr. E.F. 229.

. sPitomEvs. Fr. E.F, 228.

. SANGUINEUS. Jacq. E.F. 234.

. CINNAMOoMEUS. L. H.F. 2385.

croceus. Scheeff. An. 49,

. RAPHANOIDES. Pers. E.F. 236.

Sub-genus 5. TELAMONTA.

. BuLBosus. Sow. E.F. 226.
. Torvus. Fr. E.F. 219.
. EvVERNIUs. Fr. E.F. 221.

* See Epicrisis on C. Cyanites, p. 279

LIS! OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.
358 C. timontus. Fr. E.F. 223.
3594C. vauipus. Berk. E.F. 224.
360 C. nInnuLEvs. Sow. t. 173. E.F. 222. syn.
3861 C. centiuis. Fr. E.F. 222.
362 C. BRuNNEUS. Pers. H.F. 220.
363 C. peRiscetis. Fr. An. 694.
364 C. psammocepHatus. Bull. An. 695.
365 C. miopopius. Bull. EF. 237.

Sub-genus HYDROCYBE.

366 C. arnmEntiacus. Scheff. E.F. 238. An. 696.
367 C. pitutus. Pers.—A. casraneus. Bolt. t. 10.
868 C. casraneus. Bull. E.F. 239.

8694C. Livipo-ocHRacEus. Berk. E:F. 240.

Genus 5. PAXILLUS.

3870 P. invoLutus. Batsch. E.F. 274.

371 P. FiLamMENTosus. Scop.—A. ADSCENDENTIBUS. Bolt. t. 55. ?
3872 P. arroromentosus. An. 697.

373 P. panvorwss. Fr. E.F. 275.

Genus 6. GOMPHIDIUS.

874 G. craciuis. Berk. An. 698.
875 G. eiutinosus. Scheff. H.F. 3382.
376 G. viscipus. L.A. rurinus. Scheff. E.F. 338.

Genus 7. HYGROPHORUS.
Sub-genus 1. LIMACIUM.

377 H. cHrysopon. Batsch. An. 258.

378 H. epurneus. Bull. E.F. 22.

379 H. Cossus. Sow. E.F. 23.

380 H. penarius. Fr.=A. nirens. Sow. An 40.
381 H. rrvuspescens. Fr. An. 39.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMIMNOMYCETES.

3824+H. cerastnus. Berk. E.F. 21.
383 H. uypotHesus. Fr. E.F. 25.
384 H. oxtvacro-aLBus. Fr. E.F. 24.
385+H. mesorrepuus. Berk. An. 699.

Sub-genus 2. CAMAROPHYLLUS.

386 H. caprinus. Scop.—A.camaropuyiits. Alb. & Schw. E.F. 93.
A. Evixus. Sow. t. 172. An. 264.?

387 H. Leportnus. Bat. An. 700.

388 H. pratensis. Pers. B.F. 94.

389 H. vircineus. Wulf. E.F. 95.

390+H. russo-cortacEus. Berk. An. 332.

391 H. ovinus. Bull. An. 262.

Sub-genus 8. HYGROCYBE.
392 H. Conemannianus. Blox, An. 701.
393 H. Larus. Fr. An. 702.
394 H. crraceus. Wulf. E.F. 97.
395 H. coccinrus. Wulf. E.F. 100.
396 H. miniatus. Fr. E.F. 101.
397 H. punicxus. Fr. E.F. 99.
398 H. oprussnus. Fr.=A. Laceratus. Bolt. t. 68.
399 H. conicus. Scheff. E.F. 98.
400 +H. catyprrerormis. Berk. An. 63.
401 H. psrrracinus. Scheeff. E.F. 96.
402 H. uneurnosus. Fr. An. 62.
408 H. murrnaceus.* Bull. E.F. 108. An. 261.

Genus 8. LACTARIUS.

I. PIPERITES.
404 L. rorminosus. Scheeff. E.F. 51 & 53. efr. An. 703.
405 L. crtictomes. Fr. E.F. 52.
* H. MuRINACEUS of Fries is not A. MURINACEUs of Bulliard according to the

Rey. M. J. Berkeley, who refers the latter plant, figured by Sow. t. 106, to the
vicinity of A. ARGYRACEUS,

36

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

406 L. turpis. Weinm. An. 703.

407 L. Biennius. Fr. E.F. 58.

408 L. uysarnus. Fr. E.F. 57.

409 L. crrceLuatus. Fr.=A. zonartus. Sow. E.F. 54. syn.
410 L. uvinus. Fr. E.F. 56.

411 L. Frexvosus. Pers. E.F. 69.

412 L. pyrocatus. Bull. E.F. 68

413 L. pLumsBevs. Bull. E.F. 66

414 L. preeratos. Scop. E.F. 70

415 L. vewverevs. Fr. E.F. 71

Il. DAPETES.
416 L. peuictosus. L. E.F. 59
Ill. RUSSULARES.

417 L. tHerocauus. Bull. E.F. 638 An. 704
418 L. curysorHeEus. Fr. An. 704
419 L. acris. Bolt. E.F. 55

420 L. patuipus. Pers. An. 705
421 L. quizetus. Fr. E.F. 61

422 L. aurantiacus. Fr. H.H.H.
423 L. votemus. Fr. 60

424 L. suppuncris. Bull. E.F. 62
425 L. campHoratus. Bull. An. 706
426 L. rurus. Scop. E.F. 64

427 L. euyctosmus. Fr. E.F. 65
428 L. FuLicinosus. Fr. E.F. 67

Genus 9. RUSSULA.

I. COMPACTZE.
429 R. niericans. Bull.=A. apusrus. Pers. E.F'. 50
CRASSA. =A. ELEPHANTINUS. Sow. t. 36
430 RK. ELepHantina. Bolt. t. 28?
IL, FIRMA.
431 R. rurcara. Pers. E.F. 48 syn.
432 R. vesca. Fr.=A. mmericus. E.F. 45 syn,
433 KR. wereropnyiia. Fr.==A, virescens. ELF. 49 syn,
37

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Ill. RIGID.
434 R. nupra. Lam. E.F. 46.
IV. FRAGILES.
435 R. EMetiIcA. Fr. An. 333.
436 R. ocuHroiteuca. Pers. A. 707.
437 R. Frortens. Pers. E.F. 47.
438 R. ireera, L. An. 384.
439 R. aurata. With. An. 335.
440 R. pEcontorans. Fr. An. 60.
441 R. nirmpa. Pers. E.F. 44.
442 R, aturacea. Pers. E.F. 42.
443 R. Lurea. Huds. E.F. 48.
Genus 10. CANTHARELLUS.
I. MESOPUS.
444 C. crparius. Fr. E.F. p. 125.
445 C. aurantiacus. Fr. E.F. p. 124.

446+C. Brown. Berk. An. 336.

447 C.

448 C.
1G
449 C.

{II.

450 C.

INFUNDIBULIFORMIS. Scop. = C. TuBx£FoRMIs. Bull.
K.F. p. 125. Sow. t. 47.

CINEREvS. Pers. E.F. p. 126.

PLEUROPUS.

MUSCIGENUS. Bull. E.F. p. 127.

RESUPINATUS.

Loratus. Fr. E.F. p. 127.

Genus 11. NYCTALIS

N. parasitica. Bull. E.F. 182.

Genus 12. MARASMIUS.

4524+M. SrepHensu. Berk. An. 708.
Sub-genus 1. COLLYBIA.
I. SCORTEI.
453 M. urens. Fr. An. 275.

38

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

454 M. peronatus. Bolt. E.F. 119.
455 M. porreus. Fr. E.F. 121.
456 M. orneapes. Bolt. E.F. 120.
Il. TERGINI.
457 M. rusco-purpurREus Pers. H.F. 122. An. 41.
458 M. eryrHropus. Pers. An, 65.
459 M. arcuyropus. Pers. An. 276.
Il. CALOPODES.
460 M. scoroponius. Fr. E.F. 123.
461 M. cauopus. Pers. An. 266.
462 M. Vatiuantis. Fr. H.F. 133. An. 66.
463 M. Frortrpus. Sow. E.F. 187.
464 M. amapreLpuus. Bull. An. 277.
465 M. rameauis. Bull. H.F. 181.
466 M. canpipus. Bolt. t. 39.

Sub-genus 2. MYCENA.
I. CHORDALES.
467 M. auuiaceus. Jacq. H.F. 140.
468 M. cauricrnauis. Sow. t. 164.
I. ROTULZ.
469 M. anprosacrus. L. H.F. 135.
470 M. roruna. Scop. F.F. 134.
471 M. Hupsonz. Per. E.F. 139. An. 708.
472 M. reprpuyiucs. Pers. E.F. 138.

Genus 13. LENTINUS.

473 L. tiertnus. Bull. E.F.179.

A474 L. Duna. Dec. E.F. 178.

475 L. teprpevs. Fr. E.F. 180.

476 L. apHm#rens. Alb. and Schw. E.F. 91.
477 L. cocuiratus. Pers. E.F. 181.
4784L. msconstans. Pers. E.F. 183.

479 L. ruaBeiirormis. Bolt. E.I’. 190.
480 L. vorrrnus. Sow. E.F. 191.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 14. PANUS.

481 P. rorunosus. Fr.—A. carnosus. Bolt. t. 146.?
482 P. concnatus. Fr. E.F. 184 syn. An. 67.
483 P. stypricus. Bull. E.F. 194.

Genus 15. XEROTUS.

484 X. pEGENER. Scheeff.—A. rurrosus. Sow. t. 210.

Genus 16. SCHIZOPHYLLUM.
485 S. commune, Fr. E.F. p. 130.

Genus 17. LENZITES.
486 L. Berutina. L.—DASDALIA. sBerturina. E.F. p. 131.
487 L. sepraria. Fr. An. 337.
488 L. apretina. Fr.—=DAIDALIA. apretina. E.F. 132.

Fam. 2. POLYPOREI. Fries.
Genus 18. BOLETUS.

Sub-genus 1. OCHROSPORUS.
1 B. torus. i. HE. 1.
2 B. evecans. Fr.—B. turevs. Grev. t. 183. E.F. 1. syn.
FLAVUS=B. GREVILLEL. E.F. 2.

+B. tarictnus. Berk. E.F. 3.
B. granuxatus. L. E.F. 4.
B. Bovinus. L. E.F. 5.
B. saAnGuiInEus. With. Sow. t. 225. E.F. 8. var. b.
B. parasiticus. Bull. An. 338.
B. varrecatus. Fr.

Gurratus. Pers.—B. varircatus. Sw. E.F. 7.

_
je)
Det Wo

ra
=)
Dnoww

22 B.
23 B.

24 B.

25 B.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

. CHRYSENTHERON. Bull. An. 339.
. SUBTOMENTosUs. L. E.F. 8.

caLopus. Fr. Bolt. t. 84, media.

. Pacuypus. Fr. E.F. 10.

Saranas. Lenz. An. 340.

. Lupinus. Fr. Sow. t. 250. ?
. LuRIDuS. Scheeff. H.F. 11.
. PuRPUREUS. Fr. An. 341.

. EDULIS. Bull. E.F. 13,

Sub-genus 2. DERMINUS.

. STROBILACEUS. Scop. E.F. 15.

. viserpus. L. An. 278.

. VERSIPELLIS. Fr. Sow. t. 110. E.F. 14 syn.
. SCABER. Fr.

var. b.=B. scaper. Bull. E.F. 14.

Sub-genus 3. HYPORHODIUS.

ALUTARIUS. Fr. An. 342.
FELLEvs. Bull. An. 79.

Sub-genus 4. LEUCOSPORUS,

CYANESCENS. Bull. E.F. 16.
CASTANEUs. Bull, E.F. 12.

Genus 19. POLYPORUS. Mich.

Sub-genus 1. MESOPUS.

. LENTI.
. LentTUS. Berk. E.F, 1.

BRUMALIS. Fr. E.F. 4. An. 843.

FuscipuLus. F'r.=BOL. sussrrictus. Bolt. t. 170.

LEPTOCRPHALUS, Jacq. H.F. 5.

Al

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES,.

Il. SPONGIOST.
30 P. rurescens. Fr.=BOL. prennis. Sow. t. 191.?
81 P. srennis. Bull. E.F. DA{D 1.

Il. BlLENNES.
82 P. prerennis. L. E.F. 6.

Sub-genus 2. PLEUROPUS.

I. LENTI.
P. squamosus. Huds. E.F. 2.
P. Rostxovi. Fr. An. 709.
35 P. prorprs. Fr.=P. varius. Grev. t. 202.
P. varius. Pers. E.F. 7.

P. evecans. Bull.=BOL. Lareraris. Bolt, t. 83.

var. NUMMULARIUS. Bull. t. 124. H.H.H.

Il. LIGNOSI.
88 P. queRcinus. Schrad. An. 344
89 P. tucipus. Leyss. E.F. 8.

Sub-genus 8. MERISMA.

I. CARNOSI.
P, rronposus. Schr. Fl. Dan. t. 952. E.F. 9.
41 P. 1nryBaceus. Fr.=BOL. Frronposus. Sow. t. 87. ?
P. crisratus. Scheff. E.F, 11.

Il. LENTI.
48 P. areanrEus. Pers, E.F. 10.

Ill. CASEOST.
44 P. sutpHurevs. Bull. E.F. 12.
45 P. 1rrecunaris. Sow. E.F. 18.

IV. SUBEROSI.
46 P. crassus. Fr. H.H.H..
47 P. nEeTeRociitus. Bolt. E.F. 3,
48 P. saticnus. Fr.=P. sauicinus. Grey. E.F’. 21. An. 346.

Sub-genus 4. APUS.
Anodermei.
I. CARNOSTI.
49 P. Fraciuis. Fr. An. 710.
42

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

50 P. motus. Fr. H.H.H.
51 P. casius. Schrad. E.F. 15.
Il. LENTT.
52 P. nrpunans. Fr. An. 345.
var. sPpoNGtosus=BOL. reEsuprnatus. Bolt. t. 165.
53 rutTinAns. Fr. An. 346.
54 P. einvus. Schw.=BOL. mvpusBer. Sow. t. 195.
55 P. apustrus. Willd. E.F. 16.
56 P. crispus.* Fr. H.H.H.
57 P.4aprrosus. Berk. An. 711.
58 P. amorpuus. Fr. K.F. 17.
Il. SPONGIOSI.
59 P. uisprpus. Bull. E.F. 13.
60 P. spumEus. Sow. E.F. 14. An. 78.
Placodermei.
IV. SUBEROSI.
61 P. pryaprus. Pers. E.F. 32.
62 P. serutinus. Bull. H.-F. 19.
63 P. arBBosus. Pers.=BOL. suspERosus. Sow.=P. cyrisrnus.
E.F. 28.
64 P. patuescens. Fr. E.F. 24.
V. FOMENTARII.
65 P. romenrarius. L. E.F. 88.
664+P. Scoritcus. Klotsch. E.F. 27.

67 P. niaricans. Fr. E.F. 34.

68 P. 1entaRius. L. E.F. 35.

69 P. Ripis. Schum. E.F. 36.

70 P. concuatus. Pers, E.F. 37.

71 P. saxictinus. Fr. An. 346.

72 P. cinnamMomevs. Trog.=BOL. icnrarius. Bolt. t. 80.
73 P. prntcona. Sw. E.F. 31.

74 P. utmanrius. Sow. E.F. 26.

VI. LIGNOSTI.
75 P. rraxinevs. Bull. E.F. 29.
76 P. vartrecatus. Sow. t. 368.

* Identified by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley.
43

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Inodermei.
VII. STUPOSI.
vy P. rapratus. Sow. t. 196. E.F. 30.
78 P. cervinus. Fr. An. 347.

79 P. ravipus. Fr.=BOL. HETEROCLITUS. Sow. 867.

80 P. Freuna. Sow. t. 387. f. 8.
VI. CORIACETL
81 P. veturinus. Pers. E.F. 22.
82 P. zonatus. Fr. H.H.H.?
83 P. versicotor. L. E.F. 23.
FUSCATUS.= BOL. untcotor. Bolt. t. 163.
a4 P. anretines. Pers. E.F. 25.

Sub-genus 5. RESUPINATUS.

85+P. ARMENIACUS. Berk. E.F. 45.
86+P. ceLziarts. Desm. An. 348.
87 P. rerruarnosus. Schrad. E.F. 39.
88 P. nrrrpus. Pers. An. 349.

P. pompycrines. Fr. An. 350.

P. rvcarnatus. Pers. H.F. 40.

P. meputra-panis. Jacq. E.F. 41.
92 P. virreus. Pers. An. 351.

P. oppucexs. Pers. An. 352.

P. vuncaris. Fr. E.F. 42 syn.
95 P. moxzuscus. Pers. E.F. 44.
96 P. reRREsTRIS. Pers. An. 355.
974+P. SrePHENSI. Berk. An. 356.
98 P. varorarius. Pers. An 354.
99 P. aneretnus. Fr. An 353.
100 P. Varnuantu. Dec. ELF. 43.

Genus 20. TRAMETES. Fries.

101 T. suaveotrens. L. E.F. POL. 20.
102 T. opora. Fr.=BOL. suBEROSUS. Bolt. t. 162.
44

10s 'T.
104 T.
105 T.

106 D.
107 D.
108 D.
109) D.
110 D.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Borurarpt. Fr=DZD. suaveoutens. BF.
RUBEScENS. Alb. & Schw. An. 711.
Gipposa. Pers. E.F. DAZD. 10.

Genus 21. DASDALEA. Pers.

QquERCINA. L. E.F. 2.

coNFRAGOSA. Pers. H.F. 7. An. 279.
ANGUSTATA. Sow. E.F. 11.
unicotor. Bull. E.F, 8.

LATIssimA. Fr. H.F. 12.

Genus 22. MERULIUS. Haller.

I. LEPTOSPORI.

111+ M.
112 M.
113 M.
1144M.
115 M.
116 M.

PALLENS. Berk. An. 151.

TREMELLOsus. Schrad. An. 77.

corium. Grey. E.F. 1.

AuRANTIACUS. Klotsch. H.F. 2.

HIMANTIOIDES. Fr.=BOL. arsporerus. Sow. t. 346?
monuuscus. Fr. An. 712.

117 M.}CarmicHartianus. Grev. E.F. 5.

118 M.

PORINOIDES. Fr. An. 358.

Il. CONIOPHORI.

119 M.
120 M.

220 P.
2 2:

123 F.

LACHRYMANS. Wulf. E.F. 3.
PULVERULENTUS. Sow. H.F. 4,

Genus 23. POROTHELIUM. Fries.

FIMBRIATUM. Pérs. Sow. t. 887. f. 1. ?
Friesu. Mont. An. 359.

Genus 24. FISTULINA. Bulliard.

HEPATICA. With. E.F. 1.

L
1H
2H
3H

Il.
4H
5H
6H
7H
8 H
9H
10+H

11 H.

12 H.

13 H

14H

15 H

16 H

17 H.

18 H.

19 H

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Fam. 3 HYDNET. Fries.
Genus 25. HYDNUM. L.

Sub-genus 1. MESOPUS.

CARNOSA.

_ ivericatum. L. E.F. 1.

_ REpANDUM. L. E.F. 2.

_ RUFESCENS, Scheeff.—H. REPANDUM. Bolt. t. 89.
LIGNOSA.

_ compactum. Pers. E.F. 3.

_ gonatuM. Batsch. An. 360.

_ @RAVEOLENS. Delastre. An. 280.

Sub-genus 2. PLEUROPUS.

_ AURISCALPIUM. L. Bee AS

Sub-genus 3. MERISMA.

_ conatLorpes. Scop. E.F. 6.
_ ERtNAcEvs. Bull. E.F. 5.

Sub-genus 4. APUS.

. Fuscum. Pers. E.F. 9.

ocuraceum. Pers. E.F. 8.

Sub-genus 5. RESUPINATUS.

MeMBRANACEUM. Bull. E.F. 10.

| Weraannt. Fr. An. 718.

_ FERRUGINOSUM. Fr.=H. FERRUGINEUM. Pers. E.F. 11.
_ auutaceum. Fr. An. 714.

_ sparuuiatum. Fr. An. 281.

upum. Fr. E.F. 15.
niveum. Pers. An. 361.

_ partnaceum. Pers. E.F. 12.

20

21
22
23
24

25
26

27
28
29

30
31

32
33

34

Se eS Se

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 26. SISTOTREMA. Persoon.

. CONFLUENS. Pers. E.F. 1.

Genus 27. IRPEX. Fries.

. PENDULUs. Fr. E.F. 1,

. cRispus. Scheeff.=HYD. crispum. E.F.
. LActEvs. Fr. H.F. 2.

. OBLIQUUS. Fr.—BOL. Lacurymans. Bolt. t. 167. f. 1.

Genus 28. RADULUM. Fries.

ORBICULARE. Fr. H.F..1.
quERcINUM. Fr. An. 362.

Genis 29. PHLEBIA. Fries.

. MERISMOIDES. Fr. E.F. 2.
. RADIATA. Fr. E.F. 3.
. vaca. Fr. An. 51.

Genus 30. GRANDINIA. Fries.

. GRANULOSA. Pers. E.F. THEL. 35.
. PAPILLOSA. Fr. An. 282.

Genus 31. ODONTIA. Fries.

; BARBA-Jovis. Bull. E.F. HYD. «18:
. Fimpriata. Pers. E.F. HYD. 14.

Geuus 32. KNEIFFIA. Fries.

. SETIGERA. Fr. An. 868.

Fam 4. AURICULARINI. Fries.
Genus 33. CRATERELLUS. Fries.

. LurEscens. Pers. E.F. CANTH 4.

47

DAA E
AHR HHA

10

el Iivleh=| Toh tel

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

. cornnucopiomeEs. L. E.F. CANTH 6.
. sinvosus. Fr. E.F. CANTH 7.

Genus 34. THELEPHORA. Ehrenberg.
Sub-genus 1. MESOPUS-

. ELEGANS. Pers. Sow t. 412.

. PANNOSA. Sow. E.F. 2.

. UNDULATA. Fr. An. 75.

. TUBEROSA. Grey. E.F. 5.

. CARYOPHYLLEHA. Fr. An. 283.

Sub-genus 2. MERISMA,

. PALMATA. Scop. E.F. 4.

DIGITATA. Sow. t. 156.

. CORALLOIDES. Fr. E.F. 3.
. TERRESTRIS. Ehr. E.F. 7.

Sub-genus 3. APUS.

. CRISTATA. Pers. E.F. 6. An. 284.
. Fastipiosa. Fr. An. 285.

. MoLtuissimA. Pers. An. 286.

. LAcrNtATA. Pers. E.F. 8.

. BrennIS. Fr. An. 364:

Sub-genus 4. RESUPINATUS.

cmsta. Pers. An. 865.

. ByssompEs. Pers. E.F. 19.
. SEBACEA. Fr..= T. incrustans. Pers. E.F. 28,
. PUTEANA. Schum. An. 7.

LAXA. Fr. An.’ 366.
ARnipa. Fr. An. 8.
48

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.
Genus 35. STEREUM. Fries.
Sub-genus 1. MESOPUS.

23 S. prucans. Mey. E.F. THEL. 1.

Sub-genus 2. APUS.

~ 28

24 S$ purpureum. Pers. E.F. THEL. 18.
25 S. vorticosum. Fr. Bolt. t. 82. f. D ?
26 8. nirsutum. Willd. E.F. THEL. 12.
27 S. spapicrum. Fr. An. 50.
S. SANGUINOLENTUM. Alb. and Sch. E.F. THEL. 14
29 S. nEepaticum. Fr. Sow. t. 388. f. 2.
30 S. ruBIGINosuM. Schrad. E.F. THEL. 9.
31 S. raspactnum. Sow. An. 152. E.F. THEL. 10.
32 S. avecLanum. Fr. E.F. THEL. 18.
33 S. rnucosum. Pers. K.F. THEL. 11.
34 §. rurom. Fr. E.F. THEL. 17. syn.

Sub-genus 8. RESUPINATUS.
85 S. acerinum. Pers. E.F. THEL. 40.

Genus 36. AURICULARIA. Fries.
86 A. mesEentERIcA. Fr. H.F. PHLE. 1.

Genus 37. CORTICIUM. Fries.

Sub-genus 1. APUS.

37 C. Borront. Fr. Bolt. t. 166. fig. d.
88 C. amorpuum. Pers. E.F. THEL. 15.

Sub-genus 2. HIMANTTIA.

89 C. gicanteum. Fr. E.F. THEL. 27.
G

LIST OF BRITISH HYMIENOMYCETES.

40}C. tacrescens. Berk. E.F. THEL. 26.

41 C. tactEum. Fr. An. 81.

42 C. tmve. Pers. An. 80.

43 C. roszum. Pers. E.F. THEL. 21.

44 C. veLuTinum. Dec. An. 288.

454+C. mintatum. Berk. E.F. THEL. 22.

46 C. sancuineum. Fr. = THEL. avrantiaca. E.F. 238.
47 C. suLpHUREUM. Pers. E.F. THEL. 24.

48 C. cmRuLzum. Schrad. E.F. THEL. 20.

49}C. ARACHNOIDEUM. Berk. An. 287.

Sub-genus 3. LEJOSTROMA.

50 C. catcrum. Fr. E.F. THEL. 29.
bl C, azyipom, Fr Hoe THE. $9.

C. ocuraceum. Fr. E.F. THEL. 31.

53 C. quercinum. Pers. E.F. THEL. 16.

C. crnEREvM. Fr. E.F. THEL. 39. syn.

C. incaRNATuM. Pers. E.F. THEL. 37.

C. nupum. Fr. An. 715. E.F. THEL. 38.
57 C. conruuens. Fr. An. 716.

C. corrucatum. Fr. E.F. THEL. 41.
594C. Lavro-crrast. Berk. E.F. THEL. 42.
60 C. comepEns. Nees. E.F. THEL, 36.

61 C. Samsucr. Pers. E.F. THEL. 30.

Genus 38. CYPHELLA. Fries.

62+C. curicunosa. Dicks. E.F. 1.
63 C. GRISEO-PALLIDA. Wein. An. 289.
64 C. musctaEna. Pers. An. 717.
65 C. aganeata. Schum. An. 718=CANTH., travis. E.F.
664+C. ocHroLEUCA. Berk. An. 719.
67 C. GotpBacHuit. Wein. An. 720.
50

ODIonrrk OD eH
VIEWS TSVieee:

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Fam. 5. CLAVARIET. | Fries,

Genus 39. CLAVARIA. YVaill.

Sub-genus 1. RAMARTA.

LEUCOSPORE.

. Borrytis. Pers. An. 721.

. AMETHYSTINA. Bull. E.F. 7.

. FASTIGIATA. L.=C. pratensis. E.F. 5.

. MuscompEs. L.=C. cornicunata. E.F. 6.
. CORALLOIDES. L. E.F. 1.

. CINEREA. Bull, Grev. t. 64. E.F. 1 syn.

. opistaTa. Holmsk. E.F. 8.

. RuGosA. Bull. E.F. 9.

OCHROSPORZE.

C. aurea. Scheeff. An. 722.

C. ABIETINA. Pers. E.F. 4.

C. ruaccrpa. Fr. An. 154.

C. crocea. Pers. An, 867.

C. GRIsEA. Pers. H.F. 2.

C. conpENsATA. F'r.=C. muscorpEs. Sow. t. 157.
C. stricta. Pers. E.F. 3.

C. crispuLa. Fr. An. 723.

Sub-genus 2. SYNCORYNE.

C, purpurEA. Mill. An. 368.

C. rnura. Mull. An, 155.

C. rosEA. Dalm. E.F. 12.

C. rusirormis. Fr. E.F. 13 and 14.
C. inzquauis. Fr. E.F. 15 and 16.
C. ARGILLACEA. Fr. An. 370.

C. vERMICULARIS. Sw. E.F. 18.

244C. renvuipes. Berk. An. 369.

C. rraciuis. Holmsk. E.F. 17.

ol

LIST OF RRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus 3. HOLOCORYNE.

C. pistinuaRis. L. E.F. 10. An. 82.
27 C. contorra. Holmsk. An. 291.

C. ArpENIA. Sow. E.F. 11.
29 C. suncEA. Fr.

var. 8. VIVIPARA. An. 52.

30 C. canaticuLata. Fr. Bolt. t. 110. fig. albe.
31 C. acuta. Sow. E.F. 20.
32 C. unoraLis. Grey. E.F. 19.

Genus 40. CALOCERA. Fries.

33 C. viscosa. Pers. E.F. 1.
34 C. TuBEROSA. Sow. E.F. 2.
35 C. cornEA. Batsch. E.F. 3.
36 C. aLossoipEs. Fr. An. 371.
Genus 41. TYPHULA. Fries.
374T. Gractits. Desm. and Berk. An. 84.
38 T. eyrans. Batsch. E.F. 1. m
39 T. ERyTHROpPUs. Pers. E.F. 3.
40 T. pHacoruiza. Reichard. E.F. 2.
41 T.1ncarnata. Lasch.=PHACORHIZA rittrormis. Grev. t. 93.
42 T. musctcona. Pers. E.F. PIST. 4.
43 T. Grevinter. Fr.=CLAVARIA rtricuorus. Grev. t. 49.
44 T. rinirormtis. Bull. E.F. 5.
45 T. tenuis. Sow. E.F, 4.

Genus 42. PISTILLARIA. Fries.

46 P. micans. Pers. E.F. 1.
47}P. puBERuULA. Berk. E.F. 2.
48 P. runerma. Fr.=CLAVARIA minvra. Sow. 391.
49 P. cunmicEna. Fr. An. 85.
50 P. qursquiniaRts. Fr. E.F. 3.
52

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

51 P. ovata. Fr.=CLAVARIA porymorpua. Sow. t. 276.
52 P. pusitia. Pers. H.F. 5.

Fam. 6. TREMELLINA. Fries.

Genus 43. TREMELLA. Persoon.

1+T. vestcarra. Bull. An. 724.

2+T. verstcotor. Berk. An. 726.

3}T. viscosa. Pers. K.F. THEL. 33.

4+T. rorta. Willd. An. 872.

5+T. ppicma. Berk. An. 373.
MESENTERIFORMES.

6 T Frrpriata. Pers. E.F. 1

7 T. rottacEa. Pers. An. 13.
CEREBRINA.

8}T. rerRucinna. Smith. E.F. 3.

9 T. anprpa. Smith. E.F. 6.

10 T. 1ntumEscens. Smith. E.F. 7.

11 T. rypgcoratTa. Som. An. 725.
CORYNE.

12 T. sarcorpEs. With. E.F. 8.

13 T. cuavata. Pers. E.F. 9.

Genus 44. EXIDIA. Fries.

14 BE. Avricuna Jupa. L. E.F. 1.
15 E. recisa. Ditm. E.F. 2.
16 E. cuanpvuxosa. Bull. E.F. 3

Genus 45. NASMATELIA. Fries.

17+N. virescens. Corda. An. 374.

18 N. encepHana. Fr. An. 292.

19 N. rupirormis.* Fr. H.H.H.

20 N. nucrzata. Fr. E.F. 1? cfr. An. 292.

* Identified by the Rey. A, Bloxam.

LIST OF BRITISH HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus 46. DACRYMYCES. Nees.

214D. petiauuscens. Bull. An. 728.
22 D. morirormis. Smith. E.F. 1.
23 D. vionaczus. Relh. E.F. 2.

24 D. srruuatus. Nees. E.F. 3.

ADDENDA.

ee eee AROMATICUS. Sow. E.F. 26.

- PACHYPHYLLUS. Berk. E.F. 31.

i unpatTus. Berk. E.F. 127.
RuBIDUsS. Berk. An. 3.

4 CYPHELLIFORMIs. Berk. An. 49.

a TRECHIsPorRus. Berk. An. 71.

CORRIGENDA.

Page 17, note. For Corticeum, read Corticium.
» 19,line 1. For TYPHULIA, read TYPHULA.
» » » t. After invested, insert, by the
5 >, last line. Lor concatinate, read concatenate.
, 24,line12. For pryopHyLuus, read DRYOPHILUS.
» 25,lime10. For sANQUINOLENTUS, read SANGUINOLENTUS.

54

THE FUNGI OF LIVERPOOL

AND ITS VICINITY.

RAR Tcl 4

HYMENOMYCETES:

ARRANGED ACCORDING TO THE EPICRISIS OF M, FRIES,

BY THE

REV. HENRY H. HIGGINS, M.A.Canras., V.P.

READ BEFORE THE SOCIETY ON 10ru APRIL, 1858.

Ty the preparation of the following list of Fungi, nearly all the British,
and many of the foreign authorities have been consulted. For the
means of doing this I am principally indebted to Joseph Dickinson,
Esq. M.D. F.R.S., who has kindly allowed me to retain in my possession
for three years, many rare and valuable works from his extensive
library. Amongst these I may mention Sowerby’s ‘“ British Fungi,”
3 vols. folio, Bolton’s “ History of Funguses, growing about Halifax,”
4to., Batsch’s “ Elenchus Fungorum,” 4to., Greville’s “Scottish Crypto-
gamic Flora,” 6 vols. 8vo., Sturm’s ‘* Deutschlands Flora,” 34 parts, &c.
The library at the Athenaeum has enabled me to refer to Scheeffer's
work; and my thanks are due to the Committee of the Liverpool Free
Public Library for purchasing at my suggestion the very valuable work
by Bulliard, “ Hist. des Champign. de la France,” 5 vols. 4to. The names
of several friends who have assisted me with specimens, &e., will

appear in the list.

PREFACE.

The arrangement adopted in the following paper is taken from
the ‘‘Epicrisis Systematis Mycologici,” of Elias Fries, published
at Upsal in 1838, and from the ‘“Anleitung zum Studium der
Mycologie,” of A. C. J. Corda, published in 1842.

The descriptions of species have been chiefly taken from notes
made at the time when the plant was collected. The terms em-
ployed in the English Flora have however been used when con-
sidered to apply better than any others to the specimens in hand.

The principal parts of an Agaric are, first the pileus, the hori-
zontal portion of the plant, which is generally elevated on a stem.
The form of its upper surface varies from sub-cylindrical or conical
to umbilicate or infundibuliform. Whenits convexity becomes more
acute towards the centre it is said to be wmbonate. The under
surface of the pileus is furnished with vertical plates or gills
radiating from the stem. When the gills are attached to the stem
by their whole breadth they are said to be adnate, if in contact
only with the stem, they are adnewxed ; if not in contact, they are
Jree; if continued down the stem they are decurrent. Sometimes
they are sinuated, or emarginate, or rounded off behind, that is
next the stem. ,

When the plant is young the margin of the pileus is attached to
the stem by a membrane or web, veil, which is ruptured as the
pileus expands and may be left on the stem forming a collar or ring.
In many species the veil is absent or so delicate as to be imperceptible. —
The pileus and stem when young are sometimes enveloped in a

H ‘ay

PREFACE.

membrane, volva, which is ruptured by the growth of the plant ; the
upper portion remaining on the pileus forming patches, warts or
scales, the lower portion loosely surrounding the base of the stem.
In many species the volva is imperceptible.

The gills are variable in size and shape; when all are of equal
length they are simple, when shorter ones are interposed they are
unequal. Tach gill has commonly a central portion, trama. The
surface on both sides of the gills is formed by the spore-bearing
membrane, hymenium. ‘The ordinary floccose trama is sometimes
replaced by a layer of globular cells intermixed with vessels con-
taining a milky fluid.

The hymenium is made up of parallel cells, the extremities of
which form the surface. They are of three kinds; barren thread-
like cells, paraphyses; other cells, basidia, which are somewhat
larger and are attenuated towards the outer extremity which
is sometimes slightly knobbed and bears from one to six, ordi-
narily four, minute points, sterigmata. Each sterigma supports
a seed or spore. Sometimes may be found a third kind of cells,
antheridia, simple, very delicate and filled with fluid containing
minute particles which have a rapid swarming motion. These cells
disappear before the basidia are developed.

The spores are variously shaped, globular, elliptical, straight
or curved, obliquely truncate at one extremity, legumeniform,
generally smooth but sometimes rough or echinulate. From the
spore under circumstances favourable for germination is produced a
a simple or branched filament which alone is incapable of fructifi-
cation, but when the filaments of many spores unite, or when the
filament of a single spore has become sufliciently compound, a soft
white web, mycelium, is formed, from which springs the reproduc-
tive organ ordinarily regarded as the whole of the plant.

The measurements of spores in the accompanying list have in
each instance been made with the assistance of a stage micrometer.
If the spores in any particular species vary in size those of the
largest kind have been taken as the standard. The longest dia-
meter only has been given. The term elliptic I have used to denote
an oval in which the longitudinal and transverse diameters are in

58

PREFACE.
the proportion of three to two. The same proportion exists in
oblong and fusiform spores, but in the former the sides are parallel,
in the latter the ends are pointed.

SRECEES BRITIsH
3 < SPECIES.

IN 1838.
INGARIOIN wacsevscshssrsaisesssnesperies 1600 494
IPOEWPOREY scctsceiss veciecvecsdueceevess 409 123
143 34

Peete eee eee twee et aaeneeeetane

HypnNetr

The numbers following the names denote in inches, unless other-
wise expressed, i ‘

Ist. The height of the plant.

2nd. The breadth of the pileus.

8rd. The diameter of the stem.

E.F. The English Flora, vol. v., by the Rey. M. J. Berkeley.
S.M. Systema Mycologicum. Fries.

An. Annals and Magazine of Natural History.

HYMENOMYCETES.

Fam. I. AGARICINI. Fries.

Genus 1. AGARICUS.

Series I. Leucospori.

A.

2 A.

3 A.

4 A.

Sub-genus AMANITA.
§ a. Ring conspicuous.

MuscaRius. L. 4—7. 3—5. 4—4%.

Pileus vermilion or orange red, dotted with white conical
warts, margin striate; ring not striate. The most beautiful
of all the British Agarics. ‘Highly narcotic, producing in
small doses intoxication and delirium, for which purpose it is
used in Kamschatka, and in larger, death.’ Wood near
Woolton, Oct., 1856. Knowsley Park, near the Longborough
Lodge, Oct., 1857.

PANTHERINUS. Dec. 6. 4. 4.

More slender and less highly coloured than the preceding
species; warts flat; volva loose. Three or four specimens
occurred under beech trees, Rainhill; the warts had nearly
disappeared, and the pileus had a flea-bitten appearance,
yellowish and red, which may have suggested the name.

Mappa. Willd. 8—4. 2—23. }.

Pileus convex, at first warty, margin smooth, pure white or
lemon-coloured. Bold wood; abundant in Eastham wood. In
both these localities the plant has its volva forming ‘‘ a mere
rim fringing the bulb.” A. phalloides. ELF. syn.

RUBESCENS. Pers. 8—5. 8—5. 4—l}.

Pileus reddish grey; warts unequal; ring striate. The flesh
when broken changes after a while to a reddish hue. Stem
scaly. Whole plant stout and fleshy. Spores broadly elliptic,
or oblong, ‘0005. Woods and undertrees; generally distributed ,

61

HYMENOMYCETES.

§ b. Ring inconspicuous.

5 A. vaainatus. Bull. 5—8. 81—5. 1—1.

Pileus when young covered with large patches of the volva,
which soon disappear, mouse-grey or fawn with the lustre of
satin, margin beautifully furrowed. Spores round, nucleus
large. *00045. In woods; generally distributed but not
abundant,

Sub-genus LEPIOTA.

6 A. proceRus. Scop. 5—9. 38—6. }.

Pileus fleshy, obtusely conic, then nearly plain; epidermis
greyish brown, breaking up into large shaggy scales; gills
free; stem strong, bulbous, with an ample, moveable ring.
Spores elliptic. ‘0009. Grassy places and sides of lanes.
Knowsley. Rainhill. Bidston. Childwall.

7 A. Excortiatus. Scheff. 2—3. 14—3. }.

8 A.

Q.Ay

10 A.

Evidently allied to A. procerus, but smaller, the pileus less
umbonate; epidermis cracked into little patches but not
squarrose; ring more delicate and not so loose on the sub-
bulbous stem. Spores elliptic. -0008. Pastures. New
Brighton.

CLYPEOLARIUS. Bull. 2—23. 1—14. 2 lines.
Pileus campanulate, strongly umbonate; epidermis rather
white and shining; squarrose scales arranged concentrically ;
umbo obtuse, yellowish olive, appearing as if denuded; stem
minutely scaly ; odour none. Spores legumeniform. *00033.
In a grassy hollow, New Brighton.

oRistatus. Bolt. 14—24. I—13. 1 line.
Pileus thin and crisp, conical, or expanded and sharply umbo-
nate, scaly, white, apex brown. Odour acrid, like that of hot
oil. Under walls and hedges. Rainhill and Croxteth.

GRANULOSUS. Batsch.
The typical form of A. granulosus does not appear to be found
in this neighbourhood, at least I have seen no plant agreeing
with the fig. given by Batsch.

var. AMIANTHINUS. Fr. 2—3. %. 4.

Pileus obtusely umbonate, farinaceous, orange tawny; stem
pale, scaly below the ring which is of the same colour as the
pileus. Spores elliptic. *00025. Fir woods amongst moss.
Knowsley and Stourton.

a, 3. 3—%. §F.-
Pileus pale, sub-viscid when moist, not powdery, strongly
wrinkled. Pastures, under trees. Knowsley.

B, 2. 313. 3.
Pileus convex, smooth, nearly white, margin fringed. Open
pastures. Knowsley. -

62

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus ARMILLARIA.
11 A. metueus. Vahl. 2—8. 2—7. 4—1.

Pileus yellowish ferruginous, rough with scales formed of
black hairs; gills pale, becoming rusty red, decurrent, “ form-
ing streaks on the stem down to the ring, which is large.”
(Greville.) Densely tufted. Spores unequal, broadly elliptic.
"00028. Oct. Nov. One of the most common of the Agarics,
growing everywhere on stumps and at the roots of trees. It
occurred in a plantation at Hecleston, in 1856, in such profusion
as almost to hide the ground with tufts containing from ten
to fifty plants. The surrounding vegetation became hoary
with the white spores.

Sub-genus TRICHOLOMA.

Limacina—pileus viscid when moist.

13 A. aLBo-BRUNNEUS. Pers. 3. 3—4. i1—3.

Pileus when young dome-shaped, then nearly flat, covered with
a glutinous slime, at first pale, then chestnut brown; gills
cream coloured, with a descending angle. Spores nearly round.
‘00022. ‘Allied to the plants of the preceding sub-genus.”
(Fries). Plantation, Rainhill, Oct. 1857. Loosely tufted.

12 A. ¥LAvo-BRUNNEUS. Fries. 8—4. 38—8. 3—1.

Pileus slimy when moist, tawny, with fibrillous scales of a
red cedar colour; gills tawny yellow. <A. fulvus. EF.
Spores broadly elliptic. 00028. Railway bank, Spittal.
Lane, near Eastham. Wood, Woolton.

Genuina—pileus dry, floccose or fibrillose.

14 A, nurimans. Scheff. 2—8. 2—4, i—%.

Pileus sub-hemispherical, surface like the ripe side of a peach;
the down at length becomes more scattered, shewing the
yellow flesh; gills deep golden yellow. Very beautiful when
in fine condition. On fir stumps. Knowsley and Stourton.

15 A. Coxrumperta. Fries. 2. 2—4. 3—4.

Pileus convex or wavy, centre dilute mouse-colour, shaded off
to the involute margin, which when young is white and
tomentose; gills close; stem uneven. Gregarious. Open
pastures. Halsnead and Knowsley.

16 A. vaccrnus. Schoeff. 38. 2—24. 4.

Pileus covered with a thick nap, sordid pale reddish brown,
the nap in the centre forming broad scales, that on the margin
minute tufts; gills with rusty stains; stem hollow. Spores
broadly elliptic. ‘00025. Woods. Knowsley, Acorn field.

63

HYMENOMYCETES.

17 A. muttirormis. Scheff. 1—3. 1—4. 4—4.

Pileus bluntly conic, or expanded, often cracked, or irregular,
nap mouse-grey, or slate coloured; stem white, silky.
Spores nearly round. -0002. Under trees, or in woodland
pastures. Common. Gregarious.

Spongiosa—pileus compact, bare.
18 A. peRsonaTus. Fries. 1—3. 2—5. 4—4.

Pileus convex, smooth, purple or brownish lilac ; gills violet ;
stem tinged with violet. When in fine condition this is a very
beautiful plant, every part is neat and compact, and the gills
are of a lovely amethystine hue. Gregarious. Esculent.
Spores elliptic, yellowish. -00033. Sidesoflanes, and pastures;
generally distributed.

19 A. nupus. Bull. 2. 2—8. }—4.

Pileus thin, depressed or wavy. Much resembling the pre-
ceding species, but inclined to be watery, and to assume a
reddish hue. Spores narrowly elliptic. °00033. Woodland
pastures; generally distributed.

Hygrophana—pileus more or less umbonate, hygrophanous.
20 A. Grammopopius. Bull. 2—3. 3—5. }—4.
Pileus compact, convex, then expanded, quite smooth, pale
dusky, margin at length raised and wavy; gills dusky-white,
slightly decurrent. Gregarious. The description of A. nebularis
in the E.F. belongs to this plant. Rev. M. T. Berkeley, in the
Annals, No. 61. Excellent for food. Spores elliptical. -0004.
Warren, New Brighton. Southport, Rev. T. P. Kirkman.

Sub-genus CLITOCYBE.
Sect. A. Pileus fleshy, colour unchanged in drying.

Disciformes—pileus convex, then plane or depressed.

21 A. neBuLaRis. Batsch. 3—4. 2—4. 1—11.

Pileus convex, very smooth, colour of lead, margin rounded;
stem ventricose, hollow, elastic, streaked; gills close, pale
yellowish. Spores irregular, narrow. ‘00028. Gregarious,
in an old saw-pit, Bromborough. This plant which is A.
canaliculatus, E.F., and A. turgidus, Greville, is represented by
Batsch with a sub-cylindrical stem.

22 A. cERussaTus. Fries. 2. 2—3. f.

Pileus nearly plane, opaque white, often shining as if enamel-
led; gills not decurrent. Grassy places, Crosby and New
Brighton.

64

23 A.

24 A.

26 A.

27 A.

28 A.

29 A.

HYMENOMYCETES.

DEALBATUS. Sow. 1. 1—2. }f.

Pileus rather thin, opaque white, often depressed, excentric or
lobed, margin narrowly involute ; gills sometimes pale flesh
colour. Common amongst grass under trees, and in woods.

Infundibuliformes—infundibuliform, or deeply umbilicated.
GIGANTEUS. Sow. 38—4. 4—10. 1—1}.

Pileus infundibuliform, not umbonate; whole plant cream
white; gregarious. Spores nearly round. -00028. Pasture,
Bold Park, three years successively in the same spot.
Plantation, Rock Ferry.

. GEorRuPuUs. Bull. 5—6. 8—4. 8—1}.

Pileus infundibuliform, umbonate, cream-coloured ; stem stuffed
straight, somewhat attenuated upwards. A. infundibuliformis
var. B major. H.F. Spores round. 0003. Wood, Ince
Blundell, Nov., 1857.

FLACcIDUs. Sow. 1—2. 2—81. 3—1.

Pileus at length infundibuliform, thin, margin deflexed,
beautiful reddish buff, sometimes paler; stem stuffed, soon
hollow. Tufted. Spores nearly round. 00018. Eastham,
Noy., 1856. Warren, New Brighton, abundant, Nov., 1857.

Sect. B. Pileus carnoso-membranaceous, truly hygrophanous.

Cyathiformes—gills descending.

CYATHIFORMIS. Bull. 1. 3—1. 1 line.

Pileus depressed, margin narrowly deflexed, liver-coloured,
shining, paler when dry ; gills narrow, paler than the pileus ;
stem unequal. Spores broadly elliptic. *00038. On a fallen
tree, Knowsley, Noy., 1857.

Orbiformes—gills not truly decurrent.
mMETACHROUS. Fries. 2—3. 1—2. 2 lines.

Pileus sub-carnose, neat, smooth, margin plane, centre de-
pressed, colour of putty when moist, white when dry ; gills at
length descending; inodorous, gregarious. Spores elliptic.
00027. Very common in woods, November.

Versiformes—gills adnate, sub-distant.
LAccatus, Scop. 2—6. 1—2h. }.

Pileus convex or depressed, varying from flesh-colour to a fine
brown-red, often beautifully squamulose ; gills distant, of the
same colour as the pileus; stem tough, crooked. Spores rough,
round. ‘00035. oods. Very common.

var. AMETHYSTINUS. Sow.

Extremely beautiful in colour, amethyst, or purple. Woods,
Bastham and Croxteth.

I ; 65

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus COLLYBIA.
Stricepedes—stem sulcate or fibroso-striate.

30 A. RADIcatus. Relh. 4—6. 2—3. 1}.

Pileus nearly plane, wrinkled, viscid, dusky or light brown ;
stem attenuated upwards; root long, tapering. Spores
broadly elliptic. -0006. About the roots of trees. Halsnead,
Patrick Wood, &c.

31 A. macunatus. Alb. & Schw. 38—4. 38—5. }-—32.

Pileus nearly plane, white, spotted with rusty red; gills nar-
row; gregarious. Spores sub-globose. °00025. Fir planta-
tions. Bold, Eastham, Rainford, &c.

32 A. BuryrAcEUs. Bull. 2—3. 2—8. 1.

Pileus obtusely convex, slightly umbonate, smooth, centre
dark livid brown, towards the margin much paler, substance
watery, tough; stem at length hollow, expanded below and
sub-bulbous, downy at the base. Spores sub-lanceolate. 0003.
Under beech trees. Knowsley, &c., end of Oct. and Noy.

Vestipedes—stem velvety, floccose or pruinose.

33 A. vELuTIPES. Curt. 2—8. 1—2. }-—1.

Pileus bright tawny yellow; gills pearly yellow; stem often
curved, the lower part velvety, of a fine rich brown. Tufted.
Spores elliptic. -00033. Common on stumps and rotten wood.
A truly winter Agaric, enduring the sharpest frosts.

34 A. conFLUENS. Pers. 8. 13. 2 lines.

Pileus irregular, brown, paler when dry ; gills remote; stem
twisted, villous ; densely tufted; stems confluent at the base.
Eastham Wood, Aug., 1856.

35 A. ruBERosus. Bull. 1. 3—3. line.

Pileus nearly plane, minutely umbonate, white, umbo pale,
rufescent. Doubtfully referred to this species. Growing
(without bulbs) under Polyporus giganteus, Knowsley. Some-
times growing on a Sclerotium; sometimes forming a bulb re-
sembling a Sclerotium. See a full account, given in No. 44 of
the series, in the Annals.

Leevipedes—stem fistulose, smooth.

36 A. xantHopus. Fries. 23. 48. 1 line.

Pileus convex, sub-carnose, dry, yellowish-white; gills broad,
free ; basidia prominent; stem equal, minutely fistulose, very
firm and tough, white at the apex, tawny below, strigose at the
base; root long, fibrous. Spores small, legumeniform. Fir
plantation, Rock Ferry, May, 1858.

66

HYMENOMYCETES.

37 A. pryopHitus. Bull. 1—8. 1—2. }.
Pileus thin, nearly plane, hygrophanous ; pileus and gills pale
or pinkish ; whole plant rather tender. Moist places amongst
leaves. Not uncommon.

38 A. cravus. Bull. 1. 3. Very slender.
Pileus campanulate, orange-red. Spores narrow, apiculate at
one end. 00033. On a rotten .stick, Bromborough Wood,
Oct., 1857.

Sub-genus MYCAUNA.

Calodontes—gills with the margin of a different colour.

39 A. ELEGANS. Pers. 2. %. 4 line.
Pileus very tender, apex livid, margin striate, lemon-coloured ;
gills with the margin yellow. n sticks. Prescot Cars,
Oct. 1856.

Adonidew—somewhat brightly and permanently coloured.
40 A. purus. Pers. 38—4, 1. 1 line,

Pileus subcarnose, convex, ef ae et! amethystine
odour like that of radishes. Spores oblong. *0003. Croxteth,
Ince Blundell. The Warren, New Brighton.

41 A. tacteus. Pers 23. 4. } line.

Pileus sub-umbonate, milky white, finely striate, On a hedge
bank. Rainhill.

higidipedes—gills changing colour ; stem firm, rooting,
42 A. GaLeRicuLatus. Scop, 1—6, 4—24. 4—4.

Pileus campanulate or quite expanded or umbonate, brownish
grey, substriate; gills rather distant, in uvee specimens
connected by veins, whitish or pinkish; stem downy at the
base. Spores varying in size, subglobose. “0004. ‘“ Maxime
variabilis,” Fries. A plant so variable as almost to discourage
the study of the species in affinity with it. ‘Solitary or densely
tufted. Very common on the ground or on stumps or fallen
trees.

T'ragilipedes—atem scarcely rooting, not dilated ; pileus hygrophanous.

43 A. atcaLinus. Fries.

The only plant hitherto found in this neighbourhood agreeing
with the description and possessing the peculiar nitrous odour
of A, alcalinus, is a small, campanulate, dark grey, striated
Myczna, not uncommon in grassy places. It may probably he
A, ammoniacus, Fries.

67

HYMENOMYCETES.

Lactipedes—stem yielding an opaque juice.
44 A. sanaurnonentus. Alb. & Schw. 1—3. 1—2 lines. $line.

Pileus delicate, tinged with a vinous colour. The stem when
broken near the base yields a juice of the colour of port wine.
Spores varying in size, legumeniform. *0004. Common in
woods.

45 A. aanopus. Pers. 2—8. 4—8. 1 line.

Pileus campanulate, semi-oval or semi-fusiform, roughly and
somewhat distantly striate, bluish black, opaque, sub-pruinose ;
gills distant, glancous ; stem tough, dark grey. Common in
woods, on stumps and amongst grass.

46 A. cHrxiponius. Fries. 1—4, 34—%. #4 line.

Pileus campanulate or obtusely conical, very tender; diapha-
nous, hence appearing finely striate ; apex light brown, margin
paler; gills whitish, not distant. On leaves, especially under
Pieris aquilina. The stem of this and the preceding species
when broken yields a drop of whitish milky juice.

Glutinipedes—stem viscid.
47 A. EPIpTERYGIUS. Scop. 38—4. 4—l. line.

Pileus and stem viscid. Pileus very thin, covered with an
epidermis which easily peels off when moist, margin dentate ;
stem yellow, especially at the apex. Spores irregular, nar-
rower at one end, 00035. Very common in heathy woods.

48 A, vunearis. Fries. 1—1}. }3—+4. 3 line.

Pileus and stem viscid. Pileus plane, dusky, striate; gills
decurrent, white; stem tough. Identified by the Rev. A.
Bloxam, Growing in myriads on fir leaves in a wood at
Croxteth.

Basipedes—stem adhering by a dise.
49 A. srynopatEs. Pers. 1—12. 1—2 lines. ¢ line.

Pileus bluntly campanulate, striate, slightly hairy, white.
Whole plant very delicate. On devayed wood in a very moist
place. Rainhill. Dec., 1857.

Insititie—base of stem without a proper root, growing in a vegetable matrix
by flocct or a tubercle.
50 A. urematts. Retz. 3—1. 1—3 lines. 2 line.

Pileus hemispherical, striate, brown; stem curved, A.
corticola. E.F. On bark, Croxteth.

Sub-genus OMPHALTA.
Collybiarie—pileus expanded, margin inflexed.
51 A. pyxipatus. Bull. 1—2. 4. 3 line.

Pileus infundibuliform, reddish; gills narrow, distant, decur-
rent, Grassy places on the coast.

68

HYMENOMYCETES.

52 A. MURALIS. Swartz. 3—1. 4—1. 1 line.

Pileus reddish brown, striate, umbilicate; stem curved; gills
broad, distant, decurrent. Spores elliptic. ‘00033. On walls
amongst moss. Bold. Halsnead. Woolton.

53 A. umBELLIFERUS. L. }—l1. 4—1. 1.

Pileus sub-membranaceous, centre depressed, margin deflexed,
striate, pale yellow-brown; gills distant, broad behind. Moist
heathy ground. Knowsley. Stourton.

Sub-genus PLEUROTUS.
Excentrici—pileus entire.

54 A. pryinus. Pers. .2. 3. 3.

Pileus hard, excentric, almost lateral, dirty white with brown
scales. A specimen was in the possession of Mr. F. P. Marrat,
said to be gathered by Mr. Fisher from a tree on St. James’s
Mount, Liverpool.

50 A. uLMARIUS. Bull. 3—4. 4—6. 1.

Pileus fleshy, dry, dirty white, flesh white; gills broad,
unequal, white, yellowish when dry; stem curved, ascending.
In the hollow of an ash. Croxteth. On ash, Liscard; I. Byer-
ley, Esq. On ash, Runcorn.

56 A. osTREATUS. Jacq.

Pileus excentric or dimidiate, fleshy, clammy, smooth when
dry, deep lead colour, from three to fourteen inches in
breadth, margin involute when young; gills white, forked ;
stem when present stout, firm, downy. Spores oblong,
narrow. ‘0004. Timber yard, Bold, Nov. 1856. Nearly
covering a fallen tree, Knowsley, Nov. 1857.

or
~
e

SALIGNUS. Pers.

Pileus dimidiate, four inches broad, rather thin, firm, grey or

ale dun, depressed and downy at the base, margin never
involute, Spores oblong, three times longer than broad. ‘0005.
On a willow in a garden at Poolton; I. Byerley, Esq.

Resupinati—pileus resupinate, at length sub-reflexed.

58 A. appxicatus. Batsch.

Pileus sub-sessile, dimidiate, halfan-inch broad, dark grey,
villous at the centre; gills grey. On rotten wood, Eastham,
Rainhill.

69

HYMENOMYCETES.

Series Il. Hyporhodii.

Sub-genus VOLVARIA.

59 A. BomBycinus. Scheeff. 3—6. 4—6. 3.

Pileus fleshy, when young very obtusely campanulate, then
expanded and plane, beautifully silky, not viscid, crumb of
bread colour; gills ventricose, free, white, then pink, at length
brownish; stem firm, attenuated upwards: volva forming a
flaccid cup at the bottom of the stem. Growing gregariously
on a heap of compost by the road side near Eccleston, June,
1856. The dimensions correspond with those given by Fries in
§.M., but A. bombycinus is said to grow upon trees. Scheeffer’s
plate of A. bombycinus does not indicate the peculiarly beautiful
cylindrico-campanulate form of the Eccleston plant when young.

60 A. sprcrosus. Fries. 5. 4. 4 above, 3 below.

Pileus obtusely conic, becoming expanded and broadly umbo-
nate, very viscid, greyish white, centre yellowish from the
thickened slime; gills broad, ventricose, free, pale, then rose
colour, brownish inclining to cinnamon when dry; stem
smooth, straight, firm, slightly attenuated upwards; sub-
bulbous ; volva not distinctly lobed. Spores elliptic, clouded
with pinkish olive. ‘00063. Basidia almost immersed, apices
hemispherical. Solitary, amongst grass watered by a drain,
New Brighton.

Sub-genus PLUTEUS.

61 A. cervinus. Fries. Ep. 3—5. 2—4. 3—4.

Pileus fleshy, at first oval, then broadly convex, often silky,
when young nearly black, then umber or smoky brown; gills
ventricose, free, remote when dry, pale, changing to rose.
Spores broadly elliptic. “0004. Basidia conspicuous. A.
Pluteus. E.F. About saw-pits, and rotten stumps; common
throughout the year.

Sub-genus ENTOLOMA.

62 A. sericettus. Fries. 2. 3. 1 line.

Pileus thin, pale, silky but not very smooth; gills delicate
rose-colour; stem white. In woodlands, amongst grass.
Knowsley. Stourton.

63 A. RHopDoPoLIvs. Fries. 2—4, 1—3. 4—4.

70

Pileus rather fleshy, nearly plane, satiny, very dark brown,
paler when dry; gills broad, grey, changing to rose; stem
firm, often dusted at the apex with rose-coloured spores;
odour nitric. Spores many angled, nucleus round. “0004.
Pastures. Flaybrick, Rainhill, &c.

64 A.

65 A.

66 A.

67 A.

HYMENOMYCETES.

CLYPEATUS. Fries Ep. var.mammosvs. Bolt. 8—4. 1—8. }.

Pileus fleshy, strongly umbonate, mouse grey, sometimes with
a shade of rose; odour mealy. Spores many angled, nucleus
round. “0005. Pastures. Rainhill, Knowsley, &c.

costatus. Fr. Ep.

Pileus thin, somewhat oval or expanded, hygrophanous,
dark livid brown; stem hollow, pale, squamulose at the apex ;
gills slightly adnexed, pale, then rose-coloured ; odour none;
whole plant very fragile. Common in pastures. Rainhill, &c.

Sub-genus LEPTONTA.

CHALYBEUS. Pers. 1—1}. 4—3. 1 line.

Pileus dark blue, scaly ; stem firm, steel-blue, base downy. A
small group occurred in a pasture, Rainhill, October, 1857.

Sub-genus NOLANEA.

pascuus. Pers. 1—8. 3—I1}. 1—2 lines.

Pileus campanulate, then expanded, brown and striate when
moist, pale when dry; gills dirty flesh-colour; stem slender,
fistulose. Spores irregularly globose. -00045. A variable
plant, of which, according to Fries, ten distinct varieties may
be recognized. Odour always like that of fresh meal. Pastures ;
very common.

Series IT. Dermini.

68 A.

69 A.

Sub-genus PHOLIOTA.
Humigenei—growing on the ground.

AuREvS. Mathusk. 4—6. 4-6. 43—1.

Pileus fleshy, convex, golden tawny with redder adpressed

* scales or streaks ; gills nearly of the same colour ; veil forming
aring near the apex of the stem. A conspicuously gay looking
species, growing not unfrequently in large tufts on stumps in
woods.

precox. Pers. 1—2. 1—R2. }.

Pileus fleshy, convex, then nearly plane, pale buff; gills pale
purplish brown, subdecurrent with a tooth. Pastures and
sides of lanes. Spittal. Rainhill.

71

HYMENOMYCETES.

70 A. spHaLERomorruus. Fr. Ep. 1—5. 1—14. 1 hne.
Pileus thin, convex, then plane or depressed, hygrophanous,
yellowish olive; gills clouded, pale purple brown. In dry
situations amongst moss it has a ring moderately persistent.
It is, however, remarkable for its aquatic habits, often growing
upon floating Sphagnum or Hypnum cuspidatum. var. A.
precoz, E.F. Abundant in the pools on Sutton Moss.

Truncigenei—growing on wood.

71 A. pupicus. Fries. Ep. 1—3. 2—3. (+4.

Pileus white, with a tinge of yellow; stem curved; ring
reflexed; whole plant remarkably firm and dry; tufted.
A. caperatus. E.F. On an elder stump near the village of
Morton, Cheshire.

72 A. squarrosus. Mull. 2—4. 38—4. 41.

Saffron coloured, rough with large brownish scales, except on
the stem above the ring; tufted; very handsome. On stumps.
Rainhill. Runcorn.

73 A. aprposus. Batsch.
Croft. The Rev. Thos. P. Kirkman.

74 A murapinis. Scheeff. 2—4. 2—3. §.

Pileus smooth, centre brownish orange, margin yellow, often
watery; gills cinnamon; stem scaly below; tufted. Spores
elliptical, annulus dark. -00033. On stumps. Huyton
Quarry, Knowsley, &c.

Muscigenei—growing on moss, or on the roots of grass.
75 A. mEsopactyiivs. Berkeley. 23. 1. 1 line.

Pileus obtusely conic, hygrophanous, apex umber, margin
expanded, striate, pale; stem flexuous; ring central, deeply
striate within; solitary. No. 329 of the series in the Annals.
A few specimens have occurred amongst grass in my own
garden, Rainhill.

Sub-genus HEBELOMA.
Tnocybe—pileus fibrous or fibrilloso-squamose, dry.
76 A. Lanucinosus. Bull. 1—2. 1. 1—2 lines.

Pileus subcarnose, hemispherical, downy, greyish brown ;
jue pale; stem pruinose at the apex. Woods. Knowsley,
roxteth, &c.

72

HYMENOMYCETES.

77 A, MaRitimus. Fr. Ep. 1—2}. 1—2. 4.

Pileus convex, then nearly plane, hygrophanous; margin often
deflexed ; gills adnate, at length dark cinnamon; stem solid,
fibrillose. The colour of the plant varies from umber to light
bay ; when quite dry it is often covered with a whitish bloom.
Very common at Crosby, Formby, and along the coast.

(8 A. nimosus: Bull, 1-—22. I-28. 2.

Pileus campanulate, then expanded, umbonate, dusky brown,
cracked radiately, sometimes also concentrically ; stem fibrous,
mealy. Common in pastures, under trees. <A yellowish
variety, nearly entire, occurs at Croxteth.

79 A. GEOPHYLLUS. Sow. 1—2. i—3. _1—2 lines.

Pileus bluntly conic, then expanded, with a prominent umbo,
often rimose, satiny, white, lilac, or pale brown; gills greyish
brown. Woods and gardens in many places.

Hymenocybe—pileus smooth, sub-viscid; gills inclining to watery cinnamon.
80 A. rastipiuis. Pers, I—4. 1—8}. {—4.
Pileus convex, at length nearly plane, fleshy, pale ochraceous ;
stem firm, sub-bulbous, with fibrous scales; veil forming a
moderately persistent ring; odour disagreeable. On banks
and in woods; not very common.

81 A. crustuLiniFronmis. Bull. 1—2. 1—2. |.

Differs from A. fastibilis in its closer gills and in the veil,
which is perceptible only in very young specimens. Common
in sandy hollows from Waterloo to Crosby.

Sub-genus NAUCORIA.

82 A. metinorpges. Bull. 1—2. 3—1. 1 line.

Pileus sub-carnose, hemispherical, or with a broad umbo,
smooth, hygrophanous, tawny bay when moist, ochraceous
when dry; gills adnate, ventricose; stem hollow. Pastures.
Knowsley, &c.

83 A. ruRFURACEUS. Pers. 1—2. 4—1. 1 line.
Pileus convex, then quite expanded, hygrophanous, margin
shewing the gills beneath, cinnamon, when dry pale buff,
sometimes minutely scaly. Spores elliptic. +0004. Common
on sticks and chips throughout the year.

Sub-genus GALERA.
84 A. reneR. Scheff. 3—5. 1 high and broad. 1 line.

Pileus submembranaceous, semioval, hygrophanous, cinnamon,
pale when dry; gills cinnamon; stem ferruginous, with a
whitish gloss. Spores elliptic, highly coloured, with a hilum
at each end. ‘00066. Whole plant fragile. On dungy ground,
by way sides in many places.

K 73

HYMENOMYCETES.

85 A. HypNoruM. Batsch. 1. 24 lines. #4 line.

Pileus membranaceous, striate, hygrophanous, hemispherical
or expanded, smooth; stem flexuous; gills adnate, rather dis-
tant, pale cinnamon. A. pusiolum, Fr. Ep., probably may be
amongst the plants I have regarded as belonging to this
species. Moist places on moss; very common.

Sub-genus CREPIDOTUS.
Eudermini—pileus horizontal, sub-carnose.

86 A. patmatos. EH. F. 1. 3. 4.

Pileus when young firm, at length subgelatinous, colour of
cedar wood; epidermis disposed in beautiful reticulations ;
gills thick, radiating from a collar. Spores rough, round,
yellow. ‘00025. Imbricated. On a squared post in the lane
leading from Broad Green to Woolton, two years in succession.
There is difficulty with respect to the synonyms of this inte-
resting and rare species, the colour and spores of which seem
to indicate an affinity with genus Lacrarivs.

87 A. mouuts. Scheff.

Pileus 1—3 broad, 1—2 from the base to the apex, fleshy,
flaccid, then dry and tough, downy when young, hygro-
phanous, pallid; gills watery, then brownish grey. Spores
elliptic. -00045. Common by saw-pits and on fallen timber.

Hypodermini—pileus resupinate, then reflexed, sub-membranaceous.

88 “A. VARTABILIS. Pers.

Pileus 3—1 broad, membranaceous, downy, white; gills
pinkish. On small sticks in moist places. Rainhill. Patrick
Wood. Croxteth.

Series IV. Pratelle.
Sub-genus PSALLIOTA.
Lepiotidece—hymenophore discrete from the stem; gills free.

89 A. arvensis. Schoeff.. 2—4. 3—19) 1—2.

Pileus very thick and fleshy, smooth or scaly, subglobose, then

expanded; gills pale, at length dark purple brown. Dis-

tinguished from the next species by its pale gills, and fre-

quently in age by its yellowish stains; it is also a larger and

coarser plant. A. Georgii. E.F. Commonly known as white

pre horse mushroom. Pastures. Halsnead. Common in
eshire.

74

HYMENOMYCETES.

90 A. camprstris. L. 2—3. 2—5. §.

Pileus fleshy, white, stained in age with reddish brown;
epidermis often overhanging the margin; gills free, pink, at
length purple brown. Commonly known as the mushroom.
Found in gardens and in pastures occasionally, but not
abundantly, north of the Mersey. Very plentiful in some
parts of the Wirrall.

Pholiotidei—hymenophore contiguous with the stem; gills more or
less adnexed.

91 A. semieLosatus. Batsch. 2—6. 3—13. 1—12 lines.

Pileus hemispherical, even, slimy or viscid, yellow; gills
broad, sub-horizontal, dark purple brown ; stem very slimy, or
viscid. Spores elliptic, dark. ‘0008. Poisonous. Pastures,
on dung; very common.

92 A. xRuGINosUS. Curt. 1—3. 1—4. }—.

Pileus fleshy, rather thin, convex, then expanded, yellowish but
often covered with blue slime, making it appear bluish green ;
gills pale purple brown; stem fibrillose, scaly, bluish green.
Under favourable circumstances the pileus is dotted with
white warts, and in this state the plant is one of the most
beautiful of the Agarics. Very common in gardens, woods, and
pastures.

Sub-genus HYPHOLOMA.

93 A. sUBLATERITIUS. Fr. Ep. 38—6. 2—5. 4—4.
Pileus when young downy, centre bright tawny-red, margin
sulphur or citrine-yellow; gills greenish sulphur; stem often
becoming stained withred. Spores slightly gibbous, nucleated.
00033. Tufted or solitary. A. lateritius. E.F. Woods, and
about stumps ; not uncommon.

94 A. FascicuLARIS. Huds. 2—8. 1—2. 2—8 lines.

Pileus at first oval, centre tawny, margin sulphur; gills sul-
phur, soon assuming a greenish tint, at length dingy olive ;
stem sulphur or Patines densely tufted. Spores slightly
gibbous, nucleated. 00035. Stumps, gate-posts, roots of trees,
everywhere. The most common of all the Agarics.

95 A. LacurymaBunpus. Bull. 2—8. 2—4. 1}.

Pileus fleshy, thickly fibrillose, dull reddish brown ; sub-hygro-
phanous; gills mingled grey and brown, at length very dark,
margin sometimes beaded with drops; stem fistulose, within
pale umber. Spores broadly fusiform, very dark. ‘0005. Gar-
dens, orchards, and hedges, common,

75

HYMENOMYCETES.

96 A. CanpoLLianus. Fries. 2—3. 2—3: }-—}.

Pileus thin, delicate, convex, then nearly plane, dirty white ;
gills free, very narrow, white, then pink; stem striate. Under
hedges early in Autumn. Rainhill. Croxteth.

-

Sub-genus PSILOCYBE.

higidi—stem brittle ; pileus hygrophanous.

97 A. spapicEus. Fries. Ep. 4—5. 1—3. 2 lines.

Pileus soon fully expanded, centre tawny brown, margin
appearing striate; gills dark purple brown; stem glossy
white, umber within; densely tufted. A. stipatus. E.F.
stumps.

var. b. E.F. 4. 1 broad and high. 1 line.

Pileus campanulate ; gills ascending, greyish brown. Solitary.
Lanes and gardens.

Wate Bete a. ae te Senne

Pileus nearly plane, ochraceo-fuscous; gills clouded; stem
mealy. Garden of I. Byerly, Esq., Seacombe.

Tenaces—stem flexible; pileus viscid when moist.
98 A. sEMILANCEATUS. Fries Ep. 2—d. 4 broad, } high. 1 line.

Pileus conico-campanulate with an apiculate umbo, margin
often contracted, pale ochraceous, viscid or shining; stem
tough. Spores elliptic, a hilum at each end. -0006. Very
common in pastures, and by way sides.

Sub-genus PSATHYRA.

99 A. ripriuiosus. Pers. 3. 1 broad, } high. 2 lines.

Pileus thin, semioval, fibrillose, hygrophanous ; gills grey, at
length dark; stem squamulose. Hangsdale’ s Wood. Knowsley.

Sub-genus PANZZOLUS.

100 A. separatus. 8—6. 1—1} broad and high. 1—1} lines.

Pileus semioval, opaque, glazed, clay-coloured, often marked
with shallow wrinkles and covered with a sooty film; gills
ascending, nearly black, A. semiovatus. E.F. Common in
pastures on dung.

76

HYMENOMYCETES.

101 A. rimrpurris. Bull. 2—6. 1-2 broad and high. 1—2
lines.

Pileus campanulate, blackish grey with brown shades, margin
often delicately fringed; gills ascending, very dark; stem
rufescent with a white bloom, often shewing traces of a ring.
Spores very broadly fusiform, nearly black, -00066. Very
common on horse-dung.

Sub-genus PSATHYRELLA.

102 A. oraciuis. Pers. 14—38. 4—]. 3+ —1 line.

Pileus thin, campanulate, pale or dingy brown; gills ventri-
cose, margin rose coloured. Lane near Acorn-field Wood.
By a sawpit near St. Helens.

103 A. pisseminatus. Pers. 1—2. 8—4 lines. 3 line.

Pileus ovato-campanulate, striate, frosted, pale fawn, or greyish.
Very beautiful, but extremely perishable, soon becoming
flaccid. Gregarious. Hundreds on a stump, Rainhill. Thou-
sands covering a bank, Croxteth.

Genus II. COPRINUS.

Series. I. Pelliculosi.

Comati—volva concrete with the epidermis of the pileus, at length torn
into scales.

104 C. comarus. Mill. 4—10. 8—5 high, 2 broad. 3—3,
Pileus cylindrical, fringed to the apex with whitish cottony
scales ; gills white, becoming pink and at length black ; stem
white, hollow, with a loosely woven thread down the centre.
Spores elliptical. +0006. Common in gardens and waste
places, A specimen occurred at Bold, 16 inches in length.

Atramentarii—volva none ; pileus minutely scaly.

105 C. arramenrartus. Bull. 1—6. 2—8 high, 2—4 broad.
4—}.

Pileus conical or oval, plaited or lobed, at length expanded,
with the margin curled upward, grey or brownish ; gills purple
brown, margin white. Spores subfusiform, very dark. “0004.
When young the plant is firm and heavy, the margin of the
pileus reaching to the bottom of the stem. Gregarious or
tufted. Very common in gardens and waste places,

77

HYMENOMYCETES.

Tomentosi—scales of the pileus floccose, or easily separating.
106 C. rimerarius. L. 4—6. 1—2. 2 lines.

Pileus very delicate, semi-transparent, soon inverted, plicate,
squarrose, grey ; apex bald; gills linear; stem scaly. Spores
broadly fusiform. -00043. A. cinereus. E.F. On compost,
sawdust, and by way sides; common.

107 C. niveus. Pers. 2—4. 3. 3 line.

Pileus conico-campanulate extremely delicate, soon inverted,
covered with snowy-white powder. On horse-dung. Rainhill.
Eastham.

Micacei—pileus covered with glittering granules.
108 C. micacEus. Bull. 2—5. 1—14broad and high. 2 lines.

Pileus half oval, striate, furrowed, frosted, fawn, apex darker,
margin grey. Roots, bottom of posts, and under trees; very
common.

Serres II. Veliformes.

Cyclodei—stem furnished with a volwa, or a ring.
109 C. wenpERsoNI. Berk. 1—14. 2—4 lines. # line.

Pileus very fragile ; stem furnished with a graceful (moveable ?)
ring. Rare. Pasture, Rainhill, on horse-dung. October, 1856.

2b. Lanatuli—pileus covered with superficial flocct.
110 C. napiatus. Bolt. 1. 1—2 lines. # line.

Pileus furrowed, often split into many segments ; pale brown.
On horse-dung, in a plantation, Rock Ferry.

Furfureli—furfuraceous or micaceous ; apex of the stem generally dilated
into a ring.
111 C. erpHemeRvs. Bull. 1—3. 4—1. 1 line.

Resembling C. fimetarius, smaller; gills more distant; stem
smooth. Dungy places near the coast. Crosby. New Brighton,

112 ©. pricarmis. Sow. 1—3. 3—1. 4§ line.

Pileus delicate, plicate, grey, the folds beautifully radiating
from a tawny disc, which at length is depressed ;. gills fixed to
a ring round the apex of the stem. In grassy places ; common.

78

HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus III. BOLBITIUS.

113 B. rrrupans, Bull, 4—5. 1. 1 line.

Pileus convex, soon nearly plane, yellowish, viscid; gills
narrow, pale cinnamon; stem pale yellow; whole plant sub-
deliquescent, extremely delicate. Pastures. Bold. Runcorn.

114. B. yrrenuinus. Pers.

On the bank of the river at Runcorn. The Rev. Thomas P.
Kirkman.

Genus IV, CORTINARIUS.
Sub-genus PHLEGMACIUM.

115 C. capEratus. Fries. 2—44. 2—5. 1—1}.

Pileus when young subglobose, then dome-shaped, at length
oblate, fleshy, very firm and dry, sub-farinaceous, bright
orange tawny ; gills when young narrow, then rather broad,
close, attenuated at both ends, pale buff, then cinnamon ; volva
floccose, sheathing the stem, apparently concrete with the epi-
dermis of the pileus, unbroken in a specimen 32 inches in
diameter, portion between the margin of the pileus and the
stem coarsely flocculose and strongly plicate, same colour as
the pileus, paler below, forming upon the stem reticulations
like those upon the stem of Boletus edulis; stem ventricose,
then cylindrical, very firm ; odour like that of oranges. Spores
subfusiform. ‘00045. Gregarious or tufted. The above de-
scription applies to specimens of this magnificent Agaric
gathered under trees in a stony place in the park at Brom-
borough. A specimen was sent to the Rev. M. J. Berkeley, by
whom it was identified. The species is announced as an addi-
tion to the British Flora, and figured in the ‘“‘ Botany of the
Eastern Borders,” by Dr. Johnston, 1853.

Novre.—Cortinarii Mycologos maxime vexarunt.’’ “Stupenda formarum perafti-
nium copia.’”’—Fries.

116 C. muttirormis. Fries. 2—3. 23—34. 3.

Pileus convex, viscid, pale yellowish; gills close, slightly
serrated, whitish, then dull cinnamon; stem attenuated below,
whitish, yellow within, not viscid. ‘A. turbinatus. Sow.
Knowsley.

117 C. caLtLocurous. Pers. 1—3. 3—4. 4—1.

Pileus fleshy, viscid when moist, convex, dark tawny ; gills
violet, then ferruginous ; stem somewhat bulbous, tinged with
violet, lower half like very soft white kid leather. Woods.
Eastham. Runcorn. Knowsley.

79

HYMENOMYCETES.

118 ©. craucopus. E. F. 2—§. 2—6. 3—1}.

Pileus dark chesnut brown, becoming paler in maturity.
Differs from the preceding species chiefly by its broader and
more distant gills, and by its beautifully violet coloured flesh.
Gregarious. Specimens of unusually large size occurred in
Hangsdale’s Wood. October, 1857. ;

Sub-genus MYXACIUM.

119 C. conninitus. Sow. 2—4. 38—4. 3.

Pileus very slimy, bright tawny, sometimes with dark cinna-
mon blotches, margin at length wavy; stem studded below
with thick gelatinous scales. Gregarious under willow trees,
not far from Huyton Quarry.

Sub-genus DERMOCYBE.

120 C. sancurneus. Jacq. 2. 1—1}. 2 lines.

Pileus convex, subfibrillose, margin at length turned up and
wavy. Whole plant of a beautiful deep Turkey red. Spores
elliptic. -00038. The gills, when seen obliquely, have a hue
which is “rich and rare.’”” Wood near Woolton. October, 1856
and 1857.

121 C. cinnamomnus. L. 2—4. 1—4. §—4.

Pileus convex, then nearly plane, sometimes with a broad
umbo, minutely fibrillose, centre deep red cinnamon, margin
paler; gills bright yellow cinnamon. Spores broadly elliptic.
‘00035. The largest dimensions given are those of tufted
specimens found in a wood near Woolton. Woods. Stourton.
Knowsley.

Sub-genus TELAMONTA.

122 C. Evernivs. Fries.° 2—4. 1—2.

Pileus umbonate, satiny, purplish bay, when dry cream-
coloured, margin often whitish; gills broad, at length very
distant ; stem undulated, white, with a silky lustre. Under
beech trees, Rainhill.

we

123 C. mInnuLEvs. Fries. 2—4. 1—383. 4.

Pileus and stem more of a cinnamon hue; stem more marked
with the fibres of the veil. A. gentilis. E.F. Under beech
trees, Rainhill. Eastham. Ince, &c.

80

HYMENOMYCETES.

Genus V. PAXILLUS.

124 P. invotutus. Batsch, 2—38. 38—5. 4—3.

Pileus rather fleshy, plano-convex, then depressed, slimy when
wet, smooth like kid when dry ; margin when young inyolute
and downy ; gills close, decurrent, forming reticulations at the
base; stem equal, often curved; whole plant the colour of
gingerbread. Common in woods and on banks, especially
where the soil is peaty.

Ep P.

Pileus 2—3 broad, 1—3 from the base to the apex, sessile,
spathulate, or ear-shaped, subimbricate, fleshy, tough, smooth,
orange with foxy stains; margin involute; gills when young
mere veins, forming reticulations, at length distinct and mode-
rately broad, anastomosing at the base. Spores ferruginous,
broadly elliptic. -00025. On a fallen (poplar ?) tree, Knowsley,
three years in succession. I am not able to assign this plant
to any species I can find described. In substance it resembles
Cantharellus cibarius. It may probably be allied to Pawillus
crassus. Fries. Ep. Since writing the above I have found it
for the fourth season, and it is now identified with P. panuoides
by the Rey. M. J. Berkeley. July 18th, 1858.

Genus VI. GOMPHIDIUS.

126 G. eLuTINosus. Scheff. 3—4. 2—3. i.
Pileus convex, at length depressed, olivaceous umber, very
slimy; gills pale; stem dirty yellowish. Acorn-field Wood.
October, 1856. My notes on this plant are very deficient, and
it is inserted somewhat doubtfully.

127 G. viscrpus. L. 2—8. 2—4. }.

Pileus depressed, umbonate, coffee-coloured ; gills somewhat
darker, with a shade of purple; stem nearly the colour of the
pileus. G. rutilus. E.F. Plantation between Rock Ferry and
Stourton, 1856 and 1857. Acorn-field Wood, 1856.

Genus VII. HYGROPHORUS.

Sub-genus LIMACIUM.
128 H. unypotuersus. Fries. 2—3. 1—3. 4—+4.

Pileus obtuse, or depressed, yellow, covered with olive slime ;
gills beautiful yellow. Spores elliptic. 0003. On the ground
in a wood at Croxteth, November, 1855. Under fir trees,
Knowsley, November, 1857. Gregarious.

i 81

129 H.

130 H.

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus CAMAROPHYLLUS.

PRATENSIS. Pers. 1—2. 1—2}. 43—3.

Pileus at first convex, margin at length elevated and cracked,

reddish buff, somewhat diaphanous; gills beautifully shaded

with tints of yellow and reddish buff. Spores nearly round.

ee Pastures in the Wirral, and on this side of the Mersey.
sculent.

vVIRGINEUs. Wulf. 1—2. 1. 1—2 lines.

Pileus convex, at length nearly plane, obconic, pure or alabaster
white, diaphanous. Spores elliptical. -0004. Pastures, and
amongst grass by road sides; very common. Esculent.

Sub-gents HYGROCYBE.

131 H. Cotemannianus. Blox. 1—1%. 1—1}. 1—2 lines.

132 H.

133 H.

134 H.

82

Pileus convex, at length nearly plane, reddish buff, somewhat
diaphanous, the margin hence appearing striate ; gills distant,
decurrent, connected by veins, nearly the same colour as the
pileus. Spores broadly elliptic. 00026. I had written this
description of a plant which I conceived to be H. sciophanus.
Fries. I am now glad to recognize it as first introduced into
the British Flora by my friend the Rey. A. Bloxam. Grassy
banks. Knowsley. Rainhill. Gregarious.

ceRaAcEeus. Wulf. 2—8. 1. j.

Pileus thin, slightly convex, diaphanous, whole plant yellow.
Pastures; not uncommon.

coccinEus. Wulf. 2. 1—2. 4 lines.

Pileus conico-campanulate, often inverted. Bright yellow;
orange, or scarlet. Spores elliptic. -0003. Very common in
pastures.

mMInrATUs. Fries. 1. 3—1. 1—2 lines.

Pileus convex, then umbilicate, dry ; colour often very intense,
scarlet. Pastures on apeaty soil. Prescot Carrs. Knowsley, &c.

. contcus. Scheff. 2—3. 1—Il} high. 2—4 lines.

Pileus conic, lobed; bright orange, red, or brown, becoming
black; generally black at the apex. Spores very slightly
reniform. -0004, Pastures, especially amongst the sand-hills;
common.

HYMENOMYCETES.

136 H. caLyprrarormis. Berkeley. 3—4. 1—Ihhigh. }.

Pileus acutely conic, margin a little expanded, sometimes
splitting to the apex, not viscid, gills ascending ; pileus and
gills beautiful pale rose; stem smooth, diaphanous, pure white,
sometimes longitudinally split, and hence compressed. Spores
elliptic. -0003. One of the most beautiful and rare Agarics.
Mr. Berkeley announces it as a species new to Britain, No. 63
of the series in the Annals, remarking that Lasch is the only
author who has noticed it. Pasture, Knowsley Park. November
5th, 1857.

137 H. psrrractnus. Schoeff. 2—3. I—1}. i.

Pileus campanulate, often expanded and umbonate. Whole
plant very slimy, variegated, bright yellow and green. Spores
elliptic. -00028. Generally distributed.

138 H. uneurnosus. Fries. 2—3. I—1}. i}.

Livid ; a copious sticky slime covers the pileus, and the hollow
flexuous stem. Occasionally in pastures, Knowsley, and near
Eastham, but not common.

Genus VIII]. LACTARIUS.
Serius ]. Piperites.

2a. Pileus viscid, margin at first involute, tomentose.
139 L. turpis. Weinm. 1—23. 3—6 or even 8. 3—1.

Pileus hard, viscid, plane, with an inyolute floccose margin,
afterwards expanded, centre rather sharply depressed, margin
bare; frequently not zoned, dirty dark olive colour; gills
. brownish yellow, very close; milk acrid. Spores round.
‘00033. A. torminosus. E.F'. Woods. Woolton. Acorn-feld.
Eastham.

140 L. orictoipes. Fries. 1—2. 3—5. 1—13.

Pileus depressed, dirty whitish or cream colour, margin at first
involute, tomentose ; gills forked, crisp, juiceless, whitish, with
verdegris stains. Spores rough, round. 00036. Closely
allied to A. exsuccus. ZF’, Abundant in Acorn-field Wood.

2b. Pileus viscid, pelliculose, margin naked.
141 L. piennius. Fries. 1—1}. 2—4. 4.

Pileus pitted, marked as if with rain-drops, dusky, with a
greenish tinge; gills white. Under beech trees, Rainhill.
Runcorn.

2 ¢. Pileus without a pellicle, hence quite dry.
142 L. puumBevus. Bull. 3. 6. 1,

Pileus deeply infundibuliform, dry, dark grey. Under beech
trees, Rainhill. October, 1856.

SF

HYMENOMYCETES.

143 L. pyrocatus. Bull. 13. 2—8. 4.

Pileus pale livid, zoned ; gills distant, yellowish, milk acrid,
very abundant. In a riding, Croxteth Wood. Amongst grass,
Hangsdale.

144 L. prperatus. Scop. 1—3. 38—7. 1—2.

Pileus infundibuliform, white, smooth. Park, Little Crosby.
September, 1856.

Series II. Dapetes.

145 L. pericrosus. L. 3. 3—4. i.

Pileus and gills whitish orange, in age stained with green;
stem marked as if with drops, milk abundant, bright orange.
Plantation between Rock Ferry and Stourton. Garden of Johu
Dennison, Esq., Woolton Hill.

Series III]. Russulares.
2a. Milk changing colour.
146 L. curysornevs. Fries. 1—2. 2—38. 4—H.

Pileus dry, mealy, bright buff; milk white, turning on expo-
sure to the air to a beautiful yellow. Spores rough, round,
yellow. 0003. Abundant in a riding, Acorn-field Wood.

147 L. acris. Bolt. 14—2. 3—6. 3—1i.

Pileus depressed, unequal, indistinctly zoned, viscid, lurid, or
dusky ; gills yellowish; stem much attenuated downwards.
Spores rough, round. +00033. Under beech trees, Rainhill.

2b. Milk permanently white.
148 L. quietus. E. F. 2—38. 2—3. 4—4.

Pileus obtuse, afterwards depressed, dry, mealy, colour of
cedar wood, margin deflected; stem firm, milk mild, odour
none. Spores rough, round. ‘00035. The most common of
the milky Agarics. Woods and hedge-banks everywhere.

149 L. susputcs. E. F. 1—2. 1—3 ft.

Pileus plane, or much depressed, rather thin, dark chocolate ;
gills deep red brown; stem becoming hollow; odour powerful,
sweet but nauseous. Spores rough, round. ‘00033. Hangsdale’s
Wood. Croxteth.

150 L. avrantiacus. Fries. 1—1}. 2—3. }.

Pileus thinly fleshy, plane, then depressed or almost infundi-
buliform, smooth, slightly viscid, bright orange; gills very
decurrent, not so bright as the pileus; stem smooth, stuffed,
orange. This seemsto me so distinct that I cannot assign it to
any species in the E.F., though Mr. Berkeley seems to have
found a plant somewhat similar, and mentions it as a variety
of A. subdulcis. Under beech trees, Rainhill. Stourton.

84

151

153

HYMENOMYCETES.,

. RUFUS. Scop. 24. 8—4. 3.

Pileus depressed, at length infundibuliform, often with a small
umbo; deep brick red, milk acrid. Fir woods. Stourton.
Bidston. Rainford.

. GLycrosmus. Fries. 14. 24. i.

Pileus pale, lurid; gills yellowish. Known by its strong
scent, like that of oranges. Hangsdale’s Wood. October, 1856.

Genus IX. RUSSULA.

. NigRtcANS. Fries. Ep. 2—3. 8—6. ${—1}.

Pileus pale yellowish brown, with dirty olive stains; gills
rounded behind, brittle, very thick and distant. The whole
plant becomes coal black without losing its shape or firmness.
A. adustus, HE, Woods. Eastham. Woolton. Hangsdale.
Knowsley.

. vesca. Fries. 2—3. 32-5. 4-1.

Pileus convex, at length expanded, centre depressed, smooth
and somewhat viscid when young, in age slightly rugulose,
with a sub-striated margin; gills rather broad and distant,
occasionally forked, white; stem firm, rivulose, white or
tinged with the colour of the pileus which is extremely vari-
able, purplish bright or pale red, livid, yellowish or white.
A. emeticus, E.F. in part. The difficulty is great of assigning
this, the most common of all the Russulz, to any species
named in the Epicrisis. £. vesca is, however, A. integer, of
Bolton, plate 1; which is also A. emeticus, H.F.

155 R. virescens. E.F. 2. 4. 4—3

Pileus rugulose, centre depressed, greenish with olive purple
or yellow shades; gills forked, white; stem firm, white.
Following the synonyms I have, in the List of British Hyme-
nomycetes, assigned this species to &. heterophylla, the descrip-
tion of which in the Epicrisis does not accord with that of
A. virescens in the E.l’. The present species may easily be
known by the rugulose surface of the pileus, over which there
is an extremely thin glazed pellicle. In woods not uncommon.

156 R. ruspra. Fries Ep. 2. 38—5. I.

Pileus depressed, smooth, bright rose colour; gills forked,
white; stem unequal, paler than the pileus. Whole plant
very firm. Under trees, Halsnead Park.

157 R. rarens. Pers. 8—4. 4—6. 1.

Pileus much depressed, colour of pie-crust, but dirty looking,
margin furrowed and tubereulated. An untidy looking plant,
appearing under trees and on hedge-banks early in autumn,
and lasting but a short time.

85

HYMENOMYCETES.

158 R. anuracua. Pers. 1—2. 38. j3—1.

Pileus depressed, fleshy, viscid when moist, variously coloured
red, purplish, or ochraceous; margin at length furrowed ;
gills equal, pale buff. Spores rough, round, yellow. 00045.
Woods in many places.

159 R. nrrma. Pers. {[—22. 2—3. 3—%.

Pileus thin, almost membranaceous, viscid, mostly ochraceous ;
margin furrowed; gills distant, yellowish. Spores round.
00035. Woods in many places.

Genus X. CANTHARELLUS.

160 C. crpanrus. Fries Ep: ~I1—1}. . 1—3S. - .

Pileus smooth, thin, fleshy, rather tough, infundibuliform ;
margin uneven; gills subdistant, branched. Whole plant
orange buff. Spores elliptic, white. Eastham Wood, in one
spot only, where it was very abundant in 1856.

.

161 ©. aurantiacus. Fries Ep. 1. 1—1}. i.

Pileus sub-tomentose, repand; gills rather close and but little
forked, pale or reddish buff. Solitary specimens found under
a hedge, Rainhill, and on a bank, Knowsley. My notes are
deficient, and the plants referred to possibly may have been
ill grown specimens of C. cibarius.

Genus XI. MARASMIUS.
Sub-genus COLLYBIA.

162 M. prRonatus. Bolt. 2—3. 1—3. 2—8 lines.

Pileus tough, at length expanded ; pileus and gills the colour
of a faded oak leaf; stem at the base thickly clothed with
pale yellow down. Amongst leaves in woods, especially
Eastham wood.

163 M. oreapes. Bolt. 1—2. 4—1. }.

Pileus convex, or broadly umbonate, tough, pale buff; gills
distant, pale ; stem fibrous, base downy. Spores broadly elliptic.
-00033. Pastures, frequent throughout the year; abundant on
banks in the Wirral. Often found in rings, whence it has been
called the Fairy ring Agaric, though it is by no means the
only species with this habit. It is also known by the name of
Scotch Bonnets. ‘Though tough, much used as an article of
food on the continent, and occasionally in this country, but too
frequently very different and poisonous fungi are gathered
under the name.”

86

HYMENOMYCETES.

164 M. Vamuanti. Fries. 1. 3. 2 line.

Pileus white ; gills rather thick, sub-distant, adnato-decurrent ;

stem pale, darker below. Bromborough Wood, on fallen twi gs
amongst moss.

165 M. rameatis. Bull. 1. 2. 32 line.

Pileus nearly plane, wrinkled, cream-coloured; stem pale. Very
common on sticks in moist places.

Sub-genus MYCAINA.

166 M. anprosaceus. L. 1—83. 34. 4 line.

Pileus the colour of a faded oak leaf; gills resembling veins ;
stem tough, black. On leaves, especially oak leaves. Knowsley,
Eastham. Very abundant in a plantation on the private road
to Stourton.

Genus XII. LENTINUS.

167 L. cocntgatus. Pers. 1—13. 1—2. }.

Densely tufted, colour of pie-crust, darker and redder with
age. Pilei seldom entire, two or three springing from the same
stem, and overlapping each other like the petals of a flower,
surface rough with prickly pimples; gills decurrent to the
base of the curved stem on which they are confluent in groups,
forming a strongly fluted surface; substance rather firm, corky
when dry. A beautiful and rare species. Found covering a
stump in Acorn-field Wood. October 1857.

Genus XIII. PANUS.

168 P. concuatvus. Fries.

Stem hardly any; Pileus 3 broad, 4 from base to tip. Pileus
thin, tough, of even thickness throughout ; flesh-colour ; gills
distant, quite simple. On a stump in a timber-yard, Bold.
October, 1857.

169 P. srypricus. Bull. 4. 1—1}. 2 lines.

Pileus thin, dry, tough, subinfundibuliform, rarely equal, colour
of Nankin ; ‘its close, nearly the same colour as the pileus;
tufted or subimbricated. Spores oblong. -00014. On fallen
trees, Bold, Halsnead, Eastham, &c.

87

HYMENOMYCETES.

170 P. rnconstans. Fries 8.M. }. 4. #4.

Pileus thin, slightly lobed, infundibuliform, excentric, fawn-
colour, shining, wrinkled and hard when dry; gills close,
anastomosing and forming lozenge-shaped reticulations at the
base. I am doubtful as to the position of this species, not,
being able to find it in the Epicrisis. Hangsdale’s Wood.
September, 1857. -

Genus XIV. SCHYZOPHYLLUM.

171 S. commune. Fries.

Pileus 1—14 broad, 1—14 from the base to the margin, thickly
tomentose, thin, dry, very tough, densely imbricated ; margin
involute, even, lobed or digitate, white or grey; gills reddish
grey; stem short or none. This most beautiful fungus is said
to be a native of almost every part of the world. It is found
in great profusion in the timber-yard, Halsnead, almost covering
the trunks of beech trees, and growing also, but more sparingly,
on oak and ash.

Genus XV. LENZITES.

172 L. Beturina. L. 2—4 broad. Deedalia betulina. E.F.

Solitary or imbricated, sometimes confluent, and extending a
foot or more in breadth. Pileus dimidiate with raised zones,
velvety, ashy-grey ; gills radiating, with shorter ones inter-
spersed towards the margin, hard, tough, often cracked, paler
than the pileus. Ihave not been able to detect the spores of
this very handsome species, nor do I find them described. On
birch, Knowsley. On barked oak, near St. Helens.

Fam. II. POLYPOREI.
Genus XVI. BOLETUS. L.

Sub-genus OCHROSPORUS.

1. B. torseus. L. 38—4. 38—4. i—3.

88

Pileus convex, dingy yellow, covered with brown slime or
merely viscid; tubes adnate yellow ; flesh white, not changing
colour; stem firm, sordid yellow, whitish and punctato-
scabrous above the ring. Not uncommon in woods.

or

=~

HYMENOMYCETES.

- ELEGANS. var. FLAvUS. Fries Ep.

‘‘ Known by its firm, bright yellow pileus, the flesh of which
is also yellow, by its golden sulphur coloured decurrent tubes,
and by the portion of the stem above the ring being reticulated
and not glandular.” B. Grevillei. E.F. Woods and planta-
tions. Pex-hill. Stourton. Knowsley.

- Bovinus. L. 2—3. 1—8. 3.

Pileus convex, glutinous, pale reddish buff; flesh whitish, un-

changeable; tubes shallow, slightly decurrent; stem even,

ae In abundance in the fir plantations at Stourton and
1dston.

- Prperatus. Bull. 2—3. 1—8. 4.

Pileus at length nearly plane, viscid, yellowish ; flesh yellow,
unchangeable ; tubes large, angular ; stem yellow. Ina wood
on Windle moss.

- VARIEGATUS. Swartz. 2—3. 38—4, 4—3,

Pileus fasciculato-pilose, dull yellow; tubes narrow, adnate,
buff yellow. Fries describes them as ferruginous; in the E.F.
they are said to be dull yellow; I have not seen them ferru-
ginous. Flesh and tubes, when broken, becoming bluish.
Fir plantations, Stourton.

. SUBTOMENTOSUS. L. 2—4,. 2—4. i~—3,

Pileus slightly convex or uneven, covered with a dull olive
tomentose epidermis, cracking into areole ; interstices yellow
or whitish; tubes rather large, sub-fusiform, yellow ; stem
scabrous, curved, often deep crimson red below, towards the
apex yellow; flesh changing slightly and not very rapidly to
a bluish tint. Common under hedges, and on woody banks.

. €HRYSENTERON. Bull.

Differing from the preceding species principally in the smoother
stem, and in the cuticle of the pileus, whichis red. Under
trees, Rainhill. Bold.

» HURUDUSS Schoey oA wee he a ae

Pileus sub-tomentose, olivaceous umber; flesh yellowish,
changing rapidly to blue ; tubes nearly free, yellow ; orifices
crimson-red, at length orange-red ; stem ventricose, reticulated
or streaked with red; very poisonous. Under beech trees,
Rainhill. Boletus Satanas has probably occurred in the same
locality ; my notes are deficient, and only mention a cream-
coloured variety of B. Luripus.

A ininjop ere Ma sy ee

Pileus at first pulvinate, chocolate brown; pores half free,
whitish, becoming yellow; stem strong, pale, reticulated ;
Sporules large, greenish, ochre, E.F. Under beech trees,
Rainhill; near Warrington. In Cheshire, not uncommon.

M 89

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus DERMINUS.

10 B. scaser. Bull.

This and the preceding may be distinguished from most other
British species, especially when young, by the white tubes,
and the substance, which is remarkably solid and heavy.
From B. edulis, B. scaber differs in having a viscid pileus, free
tubes, a squarrose stem, and, according to Fries, dull ferru-
ginous spores. Under beech trees, Rainhill.

Genus XVII. POLYPORUS. Mich.

Sub-genus MESOPUS.

11 P. tentus. Berkeley.

Stem 3—1 high. 4—4 diam. Pileus 1—3 broad. Toughly
fleshy ; pileus sub-depressed, reddish-brown, slightly scaly,
when young; stem at first central, at length more or less ex-
centric; pores large from the first, somewhat radiately dis-
posed, angular, very decurrent; in a growing state the dis-
sepiments are thick, and have a central paler trama. Spores
oblong, white. 0006. Copiously given off in drying. This
species was gathered by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley on living
wex Europeus in 1832. I do not find it noticed by any other
author, unless it be the Polyporus coronatus of Rostkovius
figured in Sturm’s Deutschlands Flora. It may probably
belong to the genus Favolus of Fries. Found on living ulex
Europzeus at Eastham, Stourton, and the warren, New Brighton.

12. P. LeprocerHaLus. Jacq.

13 P.

Stem 3 high. gdiam. Pileus 1 broad. Petween fleshy and
coriaceous, fawn-coloured, nearly plane; pores minute, whitish.
Found on a tree in Cheshire by I. Byerley, Esq.

PERENNIS. L.

Stem 1 high. 3} diam. Pileus 2—3 broad. Coriaceous, thin,
infundibuliform, cinnamon, zoned ; stem thickened downwards,
velvety. Eastham Wood, August, 1856.

Sub-genus PLEUROPUS.

14 P. squamosus. Fries. A

90

Stem 1—3. 1—2 diam. Pileus 3—16 broad. Tough, elastic,
fleshy, fan-shaded, or expanso-spathulate, ochraceous with broad,
dark-brown scales ; pores at first minute, then large, angular,
pale. Common on decayed trees and stumps.

HYMENOMYCETES.

15 P. varius. Pers.

Stem 1. diam. Pileus 1—3 broad. Tough, soon rigid, dise
depressed behind, pale or deep red brown; pores minute, de-
current; stem curved, abruptly black at the base. Ona stump,
Sutton, Cheshire. On a fallen tree, Bromborough.

16 P. Evecans. Fries Ep. var. NUMMULARIUS.

Stem $high. Pileus 1 broad. Soon rigid; disc smooth, nearly
white, sub-orbicular; stem slender, abruptly black towards the
base ; pores minute, round, yellowish. Not hitherto described
as British. On an Alder tree, Hooton, Cheshire.

17 P. quercrinus. Schrad.

5 from the margin tothe base. 4 broad. Pileus corky, tongue-
shaped, narrowed towards the horizontal base, floccose, smooth,
pale yellow brown ; pores minute, short whitish. A beautiful
and distinct species. On a very ancient oak, Knowsley.

Sub-Genus MERISMA.

Carnosi.—pileoli stipitate, centrally caespitose ; disc floccoso-fibrous.
18 P. rronposus. Fries.

From 4 to 16 inches in diameter. Growing in semiglobose or
irregular tufts, much branched; pileoli numerous, sub-dimidiate,
an inch, in large specimens 2 or 3 inches broad, smoky grey ;
margin thin ; interior of the tuft appearing as if chiselled in
fine white stone. On the ground under, and in eavities at the
oa of, oak trees, Knowsley. One large specimen grew on an
Alder.

Lenti.—pileoli substipitate, more or less zoned ; tufts lateral, toughly fleshy.
19 P. cicanrevs. Fries.

Tufts much imbricated, round, or spreading laterally ; pileoli
3—8 inches broad, pale chestnut-brown, zoned ; margin very
blunt; pores minute, cream-coloured, dark when bruised.
Under trees, Knowsley. Covering the roots of a beech for
many feet, Croxteth.

Cuascosi.—tufts commonly dimidiate ; pileoli not zoned; substance cheese-like,
hard when dry.

20 P, sutpnurevs. Bull.

Pileoli 1—5 inches broad, undulated, of even thickness, densely
imbricated, bright buff, with shades of reddish orange; pores
sulphur. On oaks, Knowsley. On a gate-post, Penketh.

Suberosi.—tufts sub-sessile, either central or lateral ; pileoli coriaceous or corky.
21 P. crassus. Fries.
Tuft consisting of about 5 pileoli, resembling in form those of
P. giganteus, but in substance much harder, and scarcely stipi-
tate. Upper surface velvety, dusky-grey, sub-zoned, margin
pale; pores minute, greyish white; growth of tuft somewhat
prone. On the root of a larch, Bromborough.

9]

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus APUS.

Anodermei.

Carnosi.—substance soft, cheese-like ; pores white.

22 P. mottis. Fries.

3—1 from the margin to the base. 1—1} broad, but often
extended laterally for 3 or 4inches. Concavely triquetrous ;
substance white, very easily broken, but not watery; disc
slightly fibrous, cream-coloured or pinkish, with indistinct tes-
taceous zones; pores whitish, unequal, flexuous; orifices sharply
toothed; base very broadly effused. Spores oblong, curved,
with two nuclei. *00016. On a fallen fir tree, Knowsley.

Lenti.—substance carnoso-coriaceous ; pores coloured.

23. P. apustus. Willd.

1—2 from the margin to the base. 2—3 broad. Imbricated ;
disc villous, pale grey; margin thin, becoming black; pores
short, minute, grey, whitely pruinose, obsolete towards the
margin. On stumps, common.

24 P. crispus. Fries.

4—1 from the margin to the base. 1—3 broad. Pileus coria-
ceous, imbricated, when young narrowly reflexed, floccoso-
rugose, zoneless, at length dusky, with a marginal brown
zone. Often effuso-extended for a foot or more vertically,
with somewhat distant pilei. Not, so far as I am aware,
hitherto recorded as British. Kindly named for me by the
Rev. M. J. Berkeley, who remarks that the pores are smaller
than usual, and that the species is closely allied to P. Adustus.
On aged, living whitethorns, Knowsley.

Svongiosi—substance spongy, becoming hard ; hispid.

25 P. nisprpus. Bull.
2—5 from the margin to the base. 3—8 broad. Pileus dimi-
diate, thick, very hispid, dark ferruginous ; margin obtuse ;
under surface often variously swollen; pores minute, yellowish;
substance dark bay. Common on trunks of living trees.

26 P. spumEus. Sow.

j—2 from the margin to the base. 1—3 broad. Pileus dimi-
diate, or with a constricted, short stem; gibbous, rugulose,
slightly hispid, whitish; pores and substance whitish. Decay-
ing trees, Bold, Knowsley.

Placodermei.

Suberosi—substance juicy, becoming indurated ; crust thin; perennial, but
not increasing after the first season.

92

HYMENOMYCETES.

27 P. pryapeEus. Pers.

3 broad. 1 thick. Compact, smooth, dise greyish cinnamon ;
pores even, minute, cinnamon; margin tumid, forming a raised
border round the pores. The descriptions of this plant in the
8.M. and in the Hpicrisis do not well agree. My specimen, in
which there are two pilei growing together in an imbricated
manner, corresponds well with the description in the 8.M.
On a branch of an oak which had been blown down. Crox-
teth, 1856.

Fomentarit.—substance hard from the first, increasing annually by layers.

28 P. Scoricus. E.F.

2—3 from the margin to the base. 3—4 broad. Disc rugosely
radiated, bright foxy red; margin and pores white. Many
pilei often unite and together with the effused layers of pores
form a large, irregularly shaped mass. On roots, frequently
in rabbit burrows, or at the base of stumps, principally where
the soil is peaty. Woolton, Croxteth, &c.

29 P. tantaRius. L.

Pileus at first tuberculate, globose, then hoof-shaped, smooth,
margin rounded, upper surface bleached ferruginous ; pores
cinnamon; whole plant extremely hard. On a plum-tree,
Rainhill. On a wild cherry-tree, Hooton, Cheshire.

30 P. saticinus. Fries.

Disc narrow, rough, covered with a thick black crust; widel y
and broadly resupinate; pores cinnamon, whole plant ex-
tremely hard. On a willow on the road to Hoylake.

Inodermei.
Stupost.—sub-coriaceous ; pileus uneven, zoneless.

31 P. rapiatus. Sow.

2—3 from the margin to the base. 2—4 broad. Pileus hard,
when young tuberculose, velvety, tawny, at length sub-
triquetrous ; disc rugosely radiated, bright ferruginous ; margin
pale; pores minute, yellowish, with a tinge of olive and when
in fine condition with a silvery sheen; imbricated, often ex-
tending vertically for a yard or more, and presenting a very
beautiful appearance. On decaying alder trees, Knowsley,
and at Ince Blundell.

82 P. cervinus. Pers.

1 from the margin to the base. 3—6 broad. Coriaceous ;
pileus thin; disc somewhat velvety, indistinctly zoned, rich
dark brown; pores large, some of them long, descending
orifices very oblique, pale woody colour. On the trunk of a
fallen beech, Woolton Wood. More commonly found wholly
resupinate, with pale, woody, sinuous pores. On the under
side of fallen branches. I am indebted for the name of this
species to the Rey. M. J. Berkeley, through the kindness of the
Rev. A. Bloxam.

93

MYMENOMYCETES.

Coriacei.—coriaceous ; pileus even, zoned.

33 P. versitcotor. L.

1—2 from the margin to the base. 1—3 broad. Imbricated,
thin, plane, or somewhat concave, elastic, velvety, conspicu-
ously zoned; pores small, round, white or cream-coloured.
Sometimes spuriously stipitate. Extremely variable in colour,
pale fawn with greyish zones, deep rich brown with paler
zones, almost black with blackish blue zones, greenish white ;
other varieties occur. The most common of the Polypores.
On stumps and posts everywhere.

84 P. zonatus. Fries.

Not hitherto, as far as I am aware, recorded as British, having
undoubtedly been regarded as a variety of the preceding species.
I think, however, we have a plant agreeing in every respect with
the description of P. zonatus in the Epicrisis, and with the
figures of this species in Scheffer and the Deutschlands Flora.
“ Pileus between coriaceous and corky, posteriorly convex and
tuberculoso-gibbous, sub-zoned, thickly villous, margin be-
coming white ; pores minute, round or angular, obtuse, whitish.
Found in all countries.’”-—Epicrisis. Moreover the distinguish-
ing character of P. versicolor in the Epicrisis, ‘‘ depresso levi-
gato velutino nitido, zonis discoloribus variegato,’’ cannot
apply to the plant in question, which is not so common as P.
versicolor, but is found occasionally, principally on rails.

35 P. aprerinus. Fries Ep.

3 from the margin to the base. 1—2 broad. Pileus very
thin ; dise villous, greyish white ; pores small, toothed, lilac,
or violet; often broadly resupinate and but little reflexed.
On fallen fir trees, common.

Sub-genus RESUPINATUS.

36 P. MEDULLA-PANIS. Jacq.

Of uneven thickness, firm, dry, whitish; margin defined;
pores upon an even horizontal surface rather short, small
and round. On a decayed sleeper, Spittal station.

87 P. vuueaRis. Fries.

Thin, closely adhering to the matrix; margin tomentose.
soon smooth; pores firm, very small, round, white. On
decayed posts, Knowsley.

88 P. moxuuscus. Pers.

Thin, soft, snowy white; margin deeply byssoid; pores un-
evenly developed, very small, round, orifices lacerated. On
decayed wood, Knowsley

94

HYMENOMYCETES,

39 P. vaporartus. Fries Ep.

Almost entirely consisting of middle sized, angular, pale tan
coloured pores, orifices lacerated. My specimens were kindly
named for me by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley. Very common on
fallen branches and decayed logs.

40 P. Varuuanti. Fries.

Effused, thin, byssoid, whitish ; pores here and there in clusters,
angular, unequal. Covering the base of a stump, and spreadin g
over mosses and small sticks. Woolton Wood. Eastham.

Genus XVIII. DASDALEA. Pers.

4) D. querctna. L.

2—4broad. Pileusdimidiate, of a pale, woody appearance, bald,
marked with concentric raised or depressed zones and little radiat-
ing wrinkles; the margin in well-grown specimens is thin, but in
ill developed individuals swollen and blunt; gills of the same
colour as the pileus, woody, thick, sinuous, and anastomosing
so as to form long wavy pores a line or more broad. I have
taken this description from the English Flora, having never
seen the plant in a well developed state. Timber yards, Bold,
Halsnead.

42 D. untconor. Bull.

1—2 broad. 1—1} from the base to the apex. Pileus thin,
dimidiate, zoned, villous, grey; pores small, flexuous, unequal ;
dissepiments thin, often uneven. Resembling P. zonatus, but
distinguished by its flexuous pores. On stumps in woods, Bold,
Hangsdale.

Genus XIX. MERULIUS. Haller.

43 M. cortum. Grev.

1—2 broad. Resupinate, confluent, or reflexed and imbricate ;
pileus villous; margin tomentose, white ; hymenium cream-
coloured ; pores small, sinuous, sometimes indistinct. Spores
oblong. *00038. Whole plant soft, and easily torn. On stumps
and decayed branches late in autumn.

44 M. patterns. Berk.

Effused, between gelatinous and fleshy, pale reddish, folds
forming shortly sinuous pores ; spreading for many inches on
fallen and decayed branches. The plant almost disappears in
drying. Knowsley, 1856.

95

HYMENOMYCETES.

45 M. CarmicHa@Lanus. Grey.

Resupinate, very thin, greyish brown; pores small, regular. ©
The only specimen I have seen was gathered at Knowsley on

a fallen branch, and sent to the Rev. A. Bloxam, by whom it
was referred to this species.

46 M. Lacurymans. Wulf.

The mycelium of this plant often attains a very extensive
growth, forming large soft snowy-white patches, which at
length shrink into a drab-coloured web. The hymenium, when
developed, is very beautiful, being of a bright sub-olivaceous
orange, and forming unequal, shallow, poriform depressions,
which are often beaded with limpid drops. On beams, planks,
wainscotting, timber, &c., where the ventilation is imperfect.

Genus XX. FISTULINA. Bullard.

47 F. wepatica. With.

Pileus 3—12 broad. Dimidiate or tongue-shaped, entire or
lobed, fleshy, juicy, flesh veined, colour of beef; tubes minutely
dappled, red and ochraceous. Trunks of old oaks, Eastham
Knowsley. Bold.

Fam. II]. HYDNETI. Fries.

Genus XXI. HYDNUM. L.

1 H. rnepanpum. L. 1—3. 2—4. }—1.

Pileus fleshy, convex, uneven or lobed, cream-colour or
pale buff; spines unequal, delicate pale flesh colour; stem
pale, often excentric. Spores nearly round. +0003. Terestrial.
Edible. Woods. Woolton. Acorn-field. Under beech-trees,
Rainhill.

2 H. auriscaupium. L.

“ Pileus coriaceous, horizontal, downy, notched at the point
of insertion of the lateral tomentose stem.” E.F. Inserted on the
authority of George Graves, Esq., the artist of the Wlora
Londinensis,who informed me that he had found it on fir cones
in the plantations, Stourton.

3 H. FARINACEUM. Pers.

“Forming thin effused patches resembling scattered meal,
beset with distant acute spines.”—E.F. On decayed oak in
my garden, Rainhill.

96

HYMENOMYCETES.

4 H. upum. Fries.

Effused, sub-gelatinous, watery yellow, here and there reddish;
spines close, unequal. Forming large patches on fallen branches
in watery places. Patrickwood. Bromborough. Sutton.

Genus XXII. RADULUM. Fries.

5 R. orBicuLaReE. Fries.

Effused, orbicular, confluent ; margin byssoid; tubercles in
patches, some much elongated, flattened ; pale woody colour.

Growing largely, in a vertical position, on a stump near
Childwall.

Genus XXIIJ. PHLEBIA. Fries.

6 P. raprava. Fries.

Between fleshy and membranaceous, orbicular, at length con-
fluent and extended, purplish flesh colour; folds ‘“ elongated
papille,” radiating, short, vanishing towards the margin ;
circumference adorned with an exquisite fringe of erect fibres,
shining like asbestos, bright orange, white towards the base,
4 of aninch in length. The most beautiful of the tribe, re-
taining its colour well in drying. On fallen birch branches
Knowsley.

Genus XXIV. GRANDINIA. Fries.

? G. papiuuosa. Fries.

Thin, whitish, cracked into areole ; margin somewhat indefi-
nite ; granules sub-conical. On the bark of fallen branches,
Knowsley.

Genus XXV. ODONTIA. Fries.

8 0. rimBriata. Pers.

Effused, membranaceous, between flesh colour and ferruginous?
margin white, fringed; spines small, multifid. Hydnum fine
briatum.—E.¥, On a fallen branch, Croxteth,

N 97

HYMENOMYCETES.

Fam. IV. AURICULARINI. Fries.

Genus XXVI. CRATERELLUS. - Fries.

USC; suyuosvse: Hines) 13) .2—3.. a:

Pileus dry, scarcely fleshy, infundibuliform or compresso-
infundibuliform, smooth, brownish grey ; margin very much
sinuated; hymenium much veined, pale grey ; stem stuffed,
attenuated downwards. Cantharellus sinuosus—K.F. Eastham
Wood, 1855 and 1857, plentiful in one spot.

OCs ‘cieivsrece Bill, le ess te

Pileus aquoso-carnose, infundibuliform, smooth, pale umber ;
margin much sinuated; hymenium veined. Considered by
Fries to be a variety of the preceding species; it however
differs much in substance. Sowerby’s figure is very exact.
Found at Southport in great abundance on a moist, grassy, flat
portion of the shore, which is coyered by the highest tides.

Genus XXVIII. THELEPHORA. Ebrh.
Sub-genus MESOPUS.

8 T. caRYOPHYLLEZA. Fries.

Pileus depressed, infundibuliform or flabellate, purple-brown ;
margin incised; hymenium nearly smooth. Plant an inch
high. No. 283 in the Annals. On the roots of Salices, sand-
hills, Crosby,

Sub-genus APUS.,

4 T. cristata. Pers.

At first decumbent, spreading, whitish ; ramuli cespitose,
ascending ; apices fringed ; hymenium minutely striato papil-
lose. Growing over leaves, &c., forming a rather large patch
at the base of a larch tree, Eastham Wood.

5 T. LAcInrata. Pers.

Pilei sub-imbricated, flabellate, somewhat rough with innate
fibres ; chocolate brown, 1 to 14 high; margin laciniate ; hy-
menium flocculose, papillose. On the ground in fir plantations,
common.

98

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus RESUPINATUS.

6 T. purEana. Schum.

Effused, sub-orbicular, sub-carnose, tender, sub-tuberculose or
nearly smooth; margin broad, soft, whitish; hymenium
towards the margin yellowish; centre bright, olivaceous
tawny. On the under side of a plank leaning against a damp
wall, and in other similar situations.

7 T. arta. Fries Ep.

Effused, membranaceous, paler than the last, dry. Spores
elliptical. -0005. On aged whitethorns, Knowsley. The hy-
menium seems to be developed only on the wood, but the plant
spreads over the bark, nestling in the crevices, and extending
more or less continuously for many feet.

Genus XXVIII. STEREUM. Fries.

Sub-genus APUS.

8 8. purpuREUM. Pers.

Sub-coriaceous, imbricated; reflexed disc, strigose, zoned,
whitish; hymenium smooth, purplish or lilac. A variety occurs
which is broadly effused, margin narrowly reflexed, hymenium
brownish lilac. Common on timber, stumps and posts.

9 S. uirsutum. Willd.

1—2 broad. 4 —1} from the margin to the base. Coriaceous,
imbricated, disc strigose, zoned, yellowish; margin rather
blunt ; hymenium smooth, luteous, retaining its colour or en-
tirely faded when dry. The most common of the tribe,
abounding everywhere on fallen trees and posts. Very variable,
but for the most part easily known by its bright buff or egg
yellow hymenium.

10 §. spapicEum. Fries.

4—14 from the margin to the base. 1—2 broad. Coriaceous, con-
fluent, imbricated, disc somewhat zoned,or radiately strigose,
cinnamon ; margin velvety, pale; hymenium smooth, reddish
umber, blood-stained when bruised; substance white within.
Not uncommon on fallen trees, especially oaks. If have rightly
apprehended the limits of this species, it is even more variable
than the preceding one. I have a specimen which might
almost claim to be placed in the group Merisma, the pileoli
being numerous and entire ; the margin is often much sinuated
and crisped; the hymenium nodulose or with long anasto-
mosing tubercles. ‘The plant often occurs with a good deal of

99

11 8.

12 §.

13 §.

14 §.

15 8.

HYMENOMYCETES.

the appearance of S. tabacinum, from which species it is dis-
tinguished by a firmer texture, smooth hymenium, and white
inner substance.

SANGUINOLENTUM. Alb. and Schw.

Coriaceous, thin, effused, narrowly reflexed, disc sericeous,
pale ; hymenium smooth, colour of willow-wood, blood-stained
when cut ortorn. On fallen fir branches, Halsnead, Stourton.

RUBIGINOSUM. Schrad.

Inbricated, rigid, reddish brown, many growing together and
into each other; while young, resupinate; hymenium sub-
velvety, rubiginose, margin pale; when old, reflexed, the re-
flexed portion more or less zoned, dingy and blackish. The
above, which is taken from Dr. Greville, is a very exact de-
scription of the plant as I have found it. On oak, Hastham.
Rainhill.

AVELLANUM. Fries.

Coriaceous, hard, broadly effused; reflexed disc, narrow,
villous, chestnut brown; hymenium pruinose or glabrous,
colour of a ripe hazel-nut, more or less blood-stained when
bruised. On stumps, Tarbock, &c.

.

RUFUM. Pers.

Cartilaginous, roundish, or confluent and oblong, almost
entirely resupinate; purplish grey from the bloom which
covers the tuberculated, rufescent hymenium. On the wood
of fallen branches. Halsnead. Eastham.

Sub-genus RESUPINATUS.

FULIGINOSUM. Fries.

Coriaceous, effused, somewhat orbicular; hymenium dusky
chesnut brown, uneven, smooth, closely beset with short
erect spines, exactly as in Dr. Greville’s plate of Thelephora
padi; margin uneven, pale. Not, as far as I am aware,
hitherto recorded as a British species. Ona stake from the
bottom of a hedge, Rainhill, Nov. 1856.

Genus XXIX. CORTICIUM. Fries.

Sub-genus HIMANTIA.

Mycelium and margin white.

16 GC. aicgAntrEumM. Fries.

Broadly effused, when moist watery white, when dry paper
like, milk white, smooth, margin radiato-strigose. On logs
of Scotch fir. Rainhill.

100

HYMENOMYCETES.

17 C. wave. Pers.

Effused, membranaceous; under side villous; circumference
byssoid, but not distinctly radiating ; hymenium smooth, bare,
pale. Named for me by the Rev. M. J. Berkeley. On decaying
wood not uncommon.

Mycelium and circumference coloured.

18 C. sanautneum. Fries Ep.

Thelephora aurantiaca, E.F'. Effused, circumference fibrillose ;
hymenophore loosely adhering to the matrix, which it deeply
stains with its own orange crimson colour. On the wood of a
fallen branch, Knowsley.

19 C. c@Ruzzeum. Schrad.

Effused, sub-orbicular or confluent, sub-tomentose ;_ bright
indigo-blue, circumference byssoid pale. On fallen branches
and sticks, Knowsley. Hangsdales Wood, &c.

Sub-genus LEIOSTROMA.

Definitely inferior, uniform, produced by a white mycelium which
soon disappears.

20 C. catceum. Fries.

Effused, wax-like, closely adhering to the matrix; hymenium
and circumference alike, smooth whitish, much cracked when
dry.

From wax-like becoming rigid, circumference at first slightly radiato-floccose,
of the same colour as the hymenium, soon quite bare.

21 C. quEercinum. Pers.

Between waxy and membranaccous ; agglutinated ; cireum-
ference at length free and narrowly involute; underside
blackish; hymenium flesh coloured. “On fallen branches of
oak, Knowsley.

22 C. cinrrzeum. Pers.

Wax-like, agglutinated, lurid or dusky, pruinose. Tirmer,
more membranaceous, more easily separated from the matrix,
and less cracked than Zremella viscosa. On logs and fallen
branches,

23 C. mncarnatum. Fries.

Effused, membranaceous, rigid, agglutinated, bright flesh-
colour; margin narrow, pale. This is the description of a
plant which I believe to be of the above-named species, but
which I have never found except in a barren state. It is not
uncommon, especially on dead stems of Ulex Europeus.

101

HYMENOMYCETES,

24 C. Sampuczi. Pers.

Effused, thin, white, spreading irregularly. On elder trees,
Patrick-wood. Crosby, &c.

Genus XXX. CYPHELLA. Fries.

25 C GoLpBacuit. Weinm.

Pileus lobed; hymenium smooth ; stem curved, covered with
white down. Plant about 2 lines high, buff yellow. No. 720
in the Annals. On the small stem of some dried herbaceous
plant. Botanic Gardens, Liverpool. Found by T. Shillitoe.

Fam. V. CLAVAREL Fries.

Genus XXXI. CLAVARIA. Vaill.

Sub-genus RAMARIA.

Branched. Spores white.

1 C. FastiaraTA. L.

1—2} high. Tufted, firm, very much branched at the summit ;
branches short, like the spray of an oak; dull, luteous. C.
pratensis—E.F. Pastures, in short grass.

2 C. muscorpes. L.

1—3 high. Solitary; moderately firm, forked; axils lunu-
late; stem attenuated below; bright egg yellow. C. cornicu-
lata—E.F, Amongst grass, Woolton. Knowsley.

3 C. crnEREA. Bull.

2—4 high. Brittle, sub-rugose, grey, pruinose; stem short ;
branches numerous, curved, terminating in crowded branchlets.
Croxteth Wood.

4 C. cristata. Holmsk.

1—2 high. Tufted, whitish, firm; branches dilated above,
crested; lacinie acute. Under willows near Huyton quarry.

5 C. rugosa. Bull.

1—3 high. Gregarious, nearly simple, tough, thickened
upwards, roughish. Often with a few short subtruncated
branches. Under trees, Rainhill. Patrick-wood. Halsnead, &c.

102

HYMENOMYCETES.

Sub-genus SYNCORYNE.

Simple, but fasciculate and sub-wnited at the base.

6 C. rusirormis. Fries.

2—3 high. Czspitose, even, lanceolate, attenuated, forming
a dense tuft, luteous, darker at the apex. Bebbington.
Knowsley.

7 C. ivzquatts. Fries.

1—3 high. Sub-fasciculate, of irregular growth, compressed
or channelled, sometimes slightly forked. Whitish or pale
yellow. Pasture near St. Helens. Not uncommon.

8 ©. rracixis. Holmsk.

Loosely tufted, very brittle, white or crumb of bread colour ;
club more or less obtuse and hollow.

Var. A.—Turgid upwards, answering to Sow. t. 90; occurs
growing gregariously, never tufted, in various woods in the
neighbourhood.

Var. C.—More slender and acute; answering to the longer
figures in Bolt. t. iii. Occurs yearly on a grassy bank in
Hangsdale’s Wood. Intermediate forms are common.

Genus XXXII. CALOCERA. Fries.

9 C, viscosa. Pers.

1—1} high, exclusive of the root. Rooting, smooth; branches
linear, dichotomous ; apices forked, acute; bright reddish gold
colour. The substance is composed of narrowly clavate
vesicles, containing globules of colouring matter ; mixed with
these are long, even, transparent threads. Spores sub-lecu-
meniform. ‘00045. Pale ochraceous. On a decayed fir-tree,
Woolton Wood, 1857.

10 C. cornea. Batsch.

high. Rooting, three or four simple branches springing from
the base; bright orange. Common, growing in the cracks of
squared timber.

11 ©. Guossorpes. Fries.
4—# high. Simple, not united at the base; stem terete; club
somewhat incrassated and obtuse; sub-tremellose; golden
coloured. On the trunks of oaks from which the bark has been
stripped. Knowsley.

103

HYMENOMYCETES.

12 C. tuBERosa. Sow.

1—13 high Simple, sub-attenuated, luteous, two or more
stems rising from a strigose, tubercular base. Bursting
through the bark of a dead branch. Croxteth Wood.

Genus XXXIII. TYPHULA. Fries.

13 T. pHacorizs. Reichard.
2—4 high. Simple, smooth, greyish brown; hymenium cy-
lindrical. Abundant in woods at Halsnead and Croxteth,
growing like long bristles from under dead leaves; mostly on
a Sclerotium, resembling a flattened pea. :

Fam. VI. TREMELLINZA. Fries.
Genus XXXIV. TREMELLA. Persoon.

1 T. rotracra. Pers,

2—3 broad. 1—14 high. Substance between cartilaginous
and gelatinous. Densely tufted; lobes thin, diaphanous,
folded at the base, flesh-coloured, with a tinge of cinnamon,
On a stump, Eastham Wood. Found by Mr. F. P. Marratt.

2 T. MESENTERICA. Retz.

Spores small, round. Substance at length soft, gelatinous;
very variable in size and shape, often forming masses the size
of a walnut; surface gyroso-plicate, golden-coloured. On de-
cayed trunks and branches of trees. On the stems of Ulex
Europzus occurs a plant, which, in the E.F., is referred to this
species. I have, therefore, not ventured to give it another name,
though its firmer substance, sub-cespitose habit of growth,
distinct compressed lobes, and full bright orange colour, seem
to indicate, at least, an affinity with 7. aurantia. Schwein.

3 T. avBipa. Smith.
Spores narrow, curved; substance very tender, transparent,
nearly colourless, often in clusters the size of a filbert, surface
slightly and bluntly gyroso-plicate. Common on decayed
sticks in damp places.

4 T. sarcorpEes. With.
Growth at first in little distinct club-shaped bodies, which at
length are compressed, and finally unite, forming a somewhat
gyroso-plicate mass, sometimes attaining the size of a penny ;
+—# of an inch in depth. Purple-flesh-colour Very common
on timber, &c.

104

HYMENOMYCETES.

5 T. viscosa. Pers.

Effused, of a soft waxy consistence, closely adhering to the
matrix; when thin, diaphanous; circumference slightly ra-
diating; hymenium sub-viscid, smooth, cracked when dry ;
varying from pale livid to dark dusky purplish in the same
specimen. I find in my notes that this plant, when submitted
to a succession of changes from dryness to moisture, seems to
produce two or more super-imposed layers of hymenium. Not
uncommon on fallen branches. This was written of Corticium
viscosum, before I had seen the Rev. M. J. Berkeley’s notes on
the species, in accordance with which I have removed it to the
genus Tremella. See the series in the Annals, No. 727.

Genus XXXV. EXIDIA. Fries.

5 E. Avuricuta Jup#, L.

i—3 broad. Spores oblong, curved. -00085. Concave, thin,
flexuous; within, nearly smooth, wax-like, with folds towards
the centre like those of the human ear, soon becoming black ;
without, tomentose, dusky brown. Oneldertrees. Tranmere.
New Brighton. A variety occurs on willow posts, near New
Brighton, of a fine umber colour; in the younger specimens the
cup is quite entire and sub-stipitate ; within, pale brownish,
grey; without, brownish olive; growing profusely, and in
one specimen attaining a breadth of five inches. This, not-
withstanding its colour, shape when young, and habit of
growth on willow, can hardly prove to be E. recisa, for the
under side is not punctato-scabrous, nor is it in fact distinguish-
able from the under side of H. Auricula Jude.

6 E. GLANDULOSA. Bull. ? Witches’ Butter.

A most curious and abnormal variety of this plant, if indeed
it be this plant, grows on old whitethorn trees, Knowsley.
Effused, thick, substance between gelatinous and soft cheesy ;
an inch in depth, 3 or 4 inches wide, 8 inches or a foot in
length ; at first cream-coloured, opaque, soon darker, at length
porous, friable, and quite black. The substance does not
appear firm enough to assume a regular shape ; it forms, how-
ever, irregular cavities, the concave surface of which is
papillose and fertile. The spores are stoutly elliptic, not
curved, nucleated, 00045 in length, mixed with innumerable
sterigmata. The plant is not altogether fertile, but fertile
portions are found mixed up with the stroma, as if they had
been overgrown by the rapid exudacious increase of the plant.

Genus XXXVI. NASMATELIA., Fries.

7 N. ENcEPHALA. Willd.

Substance cheese-like, becoming hard, roughly tuberculiform
and plicate ; yellowish flesh-colour, at length brown. Nucleus
large, white. On larch rails, Bidston and Stourton.

(6) 105

HYMENOMYCETES,

8 N. rupirormis. Weinm.

Small, round, surface beautifully gyroso-plicate. Reddish
orange. Not hitherto recorded as British. Identified by the
Rey. A. Bloxam. On a fallen branch in a very damp place,
near Pex Hill.

Genus XXXVII. DACRYMYCES. Nees.

9 D. stinuatus. Nees.

The size of hemp-seed, but often confluent; orange red.
Spores small, round, filaments blunt. On almost every de-
caying rail.

10 D. morirormis. Smith.

The size of a pea, surface gyroso-plicate. Black. On a fallen
branch, Bold.

Genus XXXVIII. CORYNE. Nees.

11 C. rursinata. Schum.
4—} high. Disc aline broad. Stem simple, dilated towards
the apex, brownish; hymenium clay-coloured. Spores very
minute. On the wood of fallen branches, not uncommon
during the winter.

HENRY GREENWOOD, 32, CASTLE STREET, LIVERPCOL.

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