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 SIR JOHN LUBBOCK 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
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 Received fUnr. 
 Accessions No. 
 
THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
THE 
 
 BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 AND THE 
 
 WONDERS OF THE WORLD 
 WE LIVE IN 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. 
 
 SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART., M.P. 
 
 F.R.S., D.C.L., LL.D. 
 
 OF 
 
 TJHIVEKSITT 
 
 gorft 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 AND LONDON 
 
 1892 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
COPTRIGHT, 1892, 
 
 BY MACMILLAN AND CO 
 
 TYPOGRAPHY BY J. S. GUSHING & Co., BOSTON, U.S.A. 
 PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH, BOSTON, U.S.A. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION ........ 1 
 
 Beauty and Happiness ...... 3 
 
 The Love of Nature ...... 5 
 
 Enjoyment of Scenery ..,.,. 14 
 
 Scenery of England ..... 19 
 
 Foreign Scenery ,21 
 
 The Aurora 33 
 
 The Seasons 34 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE ........ 39 
 
 Love of Animals ....... 41 
 
 Growth and Metamorphoses 43 
 
 Rudimentary Organs 45 
 
 Modifications 48 
 
 Colour . . .50 
 
 Communities of Animals ..... 57 
 
 Ants 58 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE continued ..... 71 
 
 Freedom of Animals ...... 73 
 
 Sleep ......... 78 
 
 Senses ......... 84 
 
 Sense of Direction ....... 93 
 
 Number of Species ....... 96 
 
 Importance of the Smaller Animals ... 97 
 
 Size of Animals ....... 100 
 
 Complexity of Animal Structure .... 101 
 
 Length of Life ....... 102 
 
 On Individuality ....... 104 
 
 Animal Immortality ...... 112 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON PLANT LIFE ........ 115 
 
 Structure of Flowers , ...... 128 
 
 Insects and Flowers ...... 134 
 
 Past History of Flowers ...... 136 
 
 Fruits and Seeds ....... 137 
 
 Leaves ......... 138 
 
 Aquatic Plants ....... 144 
 
 On Hairs ........ 148 
 
 Influence of Soil ....... 151 
 
 On Seedlings ........ 152 
 
 Sleep of Plants ....... 152 
 
 Behaviour of Leaves in Rain ..... 155 
 
 Mimicry . . . . . . . . .156 
 
 Ants and Plants 156 
 
CONTENTS vii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Insectivorous Plants 158 
 
 Movements of Plants 159 
 
 Imperfection of our Knowledge . . , .163 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WOODS AND FIELDS . . . .165 
 
 Fairy Land 172 
 
 Tropical Forests 179 
 
 Structure of Trees 185 
 
 Ages of Trees . . 188 
 
 Meadows 192 
 
 Downs . . - - -' - 194 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MOUNTAINS 201 
 
 Alpine Flowers 205 
 
 Mountain Scenery 206 
 
 The Afterglow 213 
 
 The Origin of Mountains ..... 214 
 
 Glaciers ..... 227 
 
 Swiss Mountains 232 
 
 Volcanoes 236 
 
 Origin of Volcanoes 243 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 WATER 249 
 
 Rivers and Witchcraft 251 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Water Plants 
 
 . 252 
 
 Water Animals 
 
 . 253 
 
 Origin of Rivers 
 
 . 255 
 
 The Course of Rivers 
 
 . 256 
 
 Deltas 
 
 . 272 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 
 RIVERS AND LAKES 
 
 . 277 
 
 On the Directions of Rivers .... 
 
 . 279 
 
 The Conflicts and Adventures of Rivers 
 
 . 301 
 
 On Lakes 
 
 . 312 
 
 On the Configuration of Valleys 
 
 . 323 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 
 THE SEA 
 
 . 335 
 
 The Sea Coast 
 
 . 337 
 
 Sea Life 
 
 . 344 
 
 The Ocean Depths 
 
 . 351 
 
 Coral Islands 
 
 . 358 
 
 The Southern Skies 
 
 . 365 
 
 The Poles 
 
 . 367 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 
 
 373 
 
 The Moon 
 
 . 377 
 
 The Sun 
 
 . 382 
 
 The Planets . ... 
 
 387 
 
CONTENTS ix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Mercury 388 
 
 Venus 390 
 
 The Earth 391 
 
 Mars 392 
 
 The Minor Planets 393 
 
 Jupiter 394 
 
 Saturn 395 
 
 Uranus . . - 396 
 
 Neptune 397 
 
 Origin of the Planetary System .... 398 
 
 Comets 401 
 
 Shooting Stars 406 
 
 The Stars 410 
 
 Nebulse , 425 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PIG. PAGE 
 
 1. Larva of Chcerocampa porcellus 53 
 
 2. Bougainvillea f ruticosa ; natural size. (After All- 
 
 man) 107 
 
 3. Do. do. magnified .... 108 
 
 4. Do. do. Medusa-form . . .109 
 
 5. Medusa aurita, and progressive stages of development. 
 
 (After Steenstrup) 110 
 
 6. White Dead-nettle 124 
 
 7. Do. 125 
 
 8. Do. 125 
 
 9. Salvia 127 
 
 10. Do 127 
 
 11. Do 127 
 
 12. Primrose 131 
 
 13. Do. 131 
 
 14. Arum 135 
 
 15. Twig of Beech 140 
 
 16. Arrangement of leaves in Acer platanoides . . 142 
 
 17. Diagram to illustrate the formation of Mountain 
 
 Chains 216 
 
 18. Section across the Jura from Brenets to Neuchatel. 
 
 (After Jaccard) 219 
 
 19. Section from the Spitzen across the Brunnialp, and 
 
 the Maderanerthal. (After Heim) . . . 221 
 
xii ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FIG. PAGE 
 
 20. Glacier of the Blunilis Alp. (After Reclus) . . 228 
 
 21. Cotopaxi. (After Judd) 237 
 
 22. Lava Stream. (After Judd) 239 
 
 23. Stromboli, viewed from the north-west, April 1874. 
 
 (After Judd) 242 
 
 24. Upper Valley of St. Gotthard 257 
 
 25. Section of a river valley. The dotted line shows a 
 
 slope or talus of debris 260 
 
 26. Valley of the Rhone, with the waterfall of Sallenches, 
 
 showing a talus of debris ..... 261 
 
 27. Section across a valley. A, present river valley ; B, 
 
 old river terrace 262 
 
 28. Diagram of an Alpine valley, showing a river cone. 
 
 Front view 263 
 
 29. Diagram of an Alpine valley, showing a river cone. 
 
 Lateral view 265 
 
 30. Map of the Valais near Sion 266 
 
 31. View in the Rhone Valley, showing a lateral cone . 267 
 
 32. Do. showing the slope of a 
 river cone 268 
 
 33. Shore of the Lake of Geneva, near Vevey . . . 269 
 
 34. View in the district of the Broads, Norfolk . .271 
 
 35. Delta of the Po 273 
 
 36. Do. Mississippi 274 
 
 37. Map of the Lake District 281 
 
 38. Section of the Weald of Kent, a, , Upper Creta- 
 
 ceous strata, chiefly Chalk, forming the North and 
 South Downs; 6, b, Escarpment of Lower Green- 
 sand, with a valley between it and the Chalk ; 
 c, c, Weald Clay, forming plains ; fZ, Hills formed 
 of Hastings Sand and Clay. The Chalk, etc., once 
 spread across the country, as shown in the dotted 
 lines 283 
 
 39. Map of the Weald of Kent 284 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS xiii 
 
 TIG. PAGE 
 
 40. Sketch Map of the Swiss Kivers 291 
 
 41. Diagram in illustration of mountain structure . . 296 
 
 42. Sketch Map of the Aar and its tributaries . . . 299 
 
 43. River system round Chur, as it used to be . . . 308 
 
 44. River system round Chur, as it is . . . . , 309 
 
 45. River system of the Maloya 311 
 
 46. Final slope of a river 317 
 
 47. Do. do. with a lake . . . .318 
 
 48. Diagrammatic section of a valley (exaggerated). E J?, 
 
 rocky basis of a valley ; A A, sedimentary strata ; 
 
 B, ordinary level of river ; (7, flood level . . 329 
 
 49. Whitsunday Island. (After Darwin) . . . .359 
 
 50. A group of Lunar volcanoes ; Maurolycus, Barocius, 
 
 etc. (After Judd) 380 
 
 51. Orbits of the inner Planets. (After Ball) . . .388 
 
 52. Relative distances of the Planets from the Sun. (After 
 
 Ball) 389 
 
 53. Saturn, with the surrounding series of rings. (After 
 
 Lockyer) 395 
 
 54. The Parallactic Ellipse. (After Ball) . . .413 
 
 55. Displacement of the hydrogen line in the spectrum of 
 
 Rigel. (After Clarke) 416 
 
 PLATES 
 
 BURNHAM BEECHES ...... Frontispiece 
 
 WINDSOR CASTLE. (From a drawing by 
 
 J. Finnemore) .... To face page 13 
 AQUATIC VEGETATION, Rio. (Published 
 
 by Spooner and Co.) . . . " "145 
 
 TROPICAL FOREST, WEST INDIES. (After 
 
 Kingsley) "179 
 
 SUMMIT OF MONT BLANC . " " 203 
 
xiv ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE MER DE GLACE, MONT BLANC . . To face page 229 
 RYDAL WATER. (From a photograph by 
 
 Frith and Co., published by Spooner 
 
 and Co.) "247 
 
 WlNDERMERE " " 253 
 
 VIEW IN THE VALAIS BELOW ST. MAURICE " " 264 
 
 VIEW UP THE VALAIS FROM THE LAKE or 
 
 GENEVA ....... " " 268 
 
 THE LAND'S END. (From a photograph 
 by Frith and Co., published by 
 Spooner and Co.) .... "334 
 
 VlEW OF THE MOON NEAR THE THIRD 
 
 QUARTER. (From a photograph by 
 
 Prof. Draper) "371 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
If any one gave you a few acres, you would say that you 
 had received a benefit; can you deny that the boundless 
 extent of the earth is a benefit? If any one gave you 
 money, you would call that a benefit. God has buried 
 countless masses of gold and silver in the earth. If a house 
 were given you, bright with marble, its roof beautifully 
 painted with colours and gilding, you would call it no small 
 benefit. God has built for you a mansion that fears no fire 
 or ruin . . . covered with a roof which glitters in one 
 fashion by day, and in another by night. . . . Whence 
 comes the breath you draw ; the light by which you 
 perform the actions of your life? the blood by which your 
 life is maintained? the meat by which your hunger is 
 appeased? . . . The true God has planted, not a few oxen, 
 but all the herds on their pastures throughout the world, 
 and furnished food to all the flocks; he has ordained the 
 alternation of summer and winter . . . has invented so 
 many arts and varieties of voice, so many notes to make 
 music. . . . We have implanted in us the seed of all ages, 
 of all arts ; and God our Master brings forth our intellects 
 from obscurity. SENECA. 
 
'BFIYERSITT; 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE world we live in is a fairyland of 
 exquisite beauty, our very existence is a 
 miracle in itself, and yet few of us enjoy as 
 we might, and none as yet appreciate fully, 
 the beauties and wonders which surround us. 
 The greatest traveller cannot hope even in a 
 long life to visit more than a very small part 
 of our earth, and even of that which is under 
 our very eyes how little we see ! 
 
 What we do see depends mainly on what 
 we look for. When we turn our eyes to the 
 sky, it is in most cases merely to see whether 
 it is likely to rain. In the same field the 
 farmer will notice the crop, geologists the 
 fossils, botanists the flowers, artists the colour- 
 ing, sportsmen the cover for game. Though 
 
 3 
 
4 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 we may all look at the same things, it does 
 not at all follow that we should see them. 
 
 It is good, as Keble says, " to have our 
 thoughts lift up to that world where all is 
 beautiful and glorious," but it is well to 
 realise also how much of this world is beauti- 
 ful. It has, I know, been maintained, as for 
 instance by Victor Hugo, that the general 
 effect of beauty is to sadden. " Comme la 
 vie de 1'homme, meme la plus prospere, est 
 toujours au fond plus triste que gaie, le ciel 
 sombre nous est harmonieux. Le ciel ecla- 
 tant et joyeux nous est ironique. La Nature 
 triste nous ressemble et nous console ; la 
 Nature rayonnante, magnifique, superbe . , . 
 a quelque chose d'accablant." l 
 
 This seems to me, I confess, a morbid 
 view. There are many no doubt on whom 
 the effect of natural beauty is to intensify 
 feeling, to deepen melancholy, as well as 
 to raise the spirits. As Mrs. W. R. Greg 
 in her memoir of her husband tells us : 
 "His passionate love for nature, so amply 
 fed by the beauty of the scenes around him, 
 
 1 Choses l^ues. 
 
i INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 intensified the emotions, as all keen percep- 
 tion of beauty does, but it did not add to 
 their joyousness. We speak of the pleasure 
 which nature and art and music give us ; 
 what we really mean is that our whole be- 
 ing is quickened by the uplifting of the veil. 
 Something passes into us which makes our 
 sorrows more sorrowful, our joys more joyful, 
 our whole life more vivid. So it was with 
 him. The long solitary wanderings over the 
 hills, and the beautiful moonlight nights on 
 the lake served to make the shadows seem 
 darker that were brooding over his home." 
 
 But surely to most of us Nature when 
 sombre, or even gloomy, is soothing and con- 
 soling ; when bright and beautiful, not only 
 raises the spirits, but inspires and elevates 
 our whole being 
 
 Nature never did betray 
 The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege, 
 Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
 From joy to joy : for she can so inform 
 The mind that is within us, so impress 
 With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
 With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
 Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
 
6 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
 The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
 Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
 Is full of blessings. 1 
 
 Kingsley speaks with enthusiasm of the 
 heaths and moors round his home, " where 
 I have so long enjoyed the wonders of na- 
 ture ; never, I can honestly say, alone ; be- 
 cause when man was not with me, I had 
 companions in every bee, and flower and 
 pebble ; and never idle, because I could not 
 pass a swamp, or a tuft of heather, without 
 finding in it a fairy tale of which I could 
 but decipher here and there a line or two, 
 arid yet found them more interesting than all 
 the books, save one, which were ever written 
 upon earth." 
 
 Those who love Nature can never- be dull. 
 They may have other temptations ; but at 
 least they will run no risk of being beguiled, 
 by ennui, idleness, or want of occupation, 
 " to buy the merry madness of an hour with 
 the long penitence of after time." The love 
 of Nature, again, helps us greatly to keep 
 
 1 Wordsworth. 
 
i INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 ourselves free from those mean and petty cares 
 which interfere so much Avith calm and peace 
 of mind. It turns "every ordinary walk 
 into a morning or evening sacrifice," and 
 brightens life until it becomes almost like a 
 fairy tale. 
 
 In the romances of the Middle Ages we read 
 of knights who loved, and were loved by, 
 Nature spirits, of Sir Launfal and the Fairy 
 Tryamour, who furnished him with many 
 good things, including a magic purse, in 
 which 
 
 As oft as thou puttest thy hand therein 
 A mark of gold thou shalt iwinne, 
 
 as well as protection from the main dangers 
 of life. Such times have passed away, but 
 better ones have come. It is not now merely 
 the few, who are so favoured. All those 
 who love Nature she loves in return, and 
 will richly reward, not perhaps with the 
 good things, as they are commonly called, 
 but with the best things, of this world ; not 
 with money and titles, horses and carriages, 
 but with bright and happy thoughts, content- 
 ment and peace of mind. 
 
8 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Happy indeed is the naturalist : to him 
 the seasons come round like old friends ; to 
 him the birds sing : as he walks along, the 
 flowers stretch out from the hedges, or look 
 up from the ground, and as each year fades 
 away, he looks back on a fresh store of 
 happy memories. 
 
 Though we can never " remount the river 
 of our years," he who loves Nature is always 
 young. But what is the love of Nature ? 
 Some seem to think they show a love of 
 flowers by gathering them. How often one 
 finds a bunch of withered blossoms on the 
 roadside, plucked only to be thrown away ! 
 Is this love of Nature ? It is, on the con- 
 trary, a wicked waste, for a waste of beauty 
 is almost the worst waste of all. 
 
 If we could imagine a day prolonged for 
 a lifetime, or nearly so, and that sunrise and 
 sunset were rare events which happened but 
 a -few times to each of us, we should certainly 
 be entranced by the beauty of the morning 
 and evening tints. The golden rays of the 
 morning are a fortune in themselves, but we 
 too often overlook the loveliness of Nature, 
 
i INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 because it is constantly before us. For "the 
 senseless folk/' says King Alfred, 
 
 is far more struck 
 At things it seldom sees. 
 
 " Well," says Cicero, " did Aristotle observe, 
 6 If there were men whose habitations had 
 been always underground, in great and com- 
 modious houses, adorned with statues and 
 pictures, furnished with everything which 
 they who are reputed happy abound with ; and 
 if, without stirring from thence, they should 
 be informed of a certain divine power and 
 majesty, and, after some time, the earth should 
 open, and they should quit their dark abode to 
 come to us ; where they should immediately 
 behold the earth, the seas, the heavens ; should 
 consider the vast extent of the clouds and 
 force of the winds ; should see the sun, and 
 observe his grandeur and beauty, and also his 
 creative power, inasmuch as day is occasioned 
 by the diffusion of his light through the sky ; 
 and when night has obscured the earth, they 
 should contemplate the heavens bespangled 
 and adorned with stars ; the surprising variety 
 
10 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 of the moon, in her increase and wane ; the 
 rising and setting of all the stars, and the 
 inviolable regularity of their courses ; when," 
 says he, ' they should see these things, they 
 would undoubtedly conclude that there are 
 Gods, and that these are their mighty 
 works.' ' 
 
 Is my life vulgar, my fate mean, 
 
 Which on such golden memories can lean ? 2 
 
 At the same time the change which has 
 taken place in the character of our religion 
 has in one respect weakened the hold which 
 Nature has upon our feelings. To the 
 Greeks to our own ancestors, every River 
 or Mountain or Forest had not only its own 
 special Deity, but in some sense was itself 
 instinct with life. They were not only 
 peopled by Nymphs and Fauns, Elves and 
 Kelpies, were not only the favourite abodes 
 of Water, Forest, or Mountain Spirits, but 
 they had a conscious existence of their own. 
 
 In the Middle Ages indeed, these spirits 
 
 1 Cicero, De Natura Deorum. 
 
 2 Thoreau. 
 
i INTRODUCTION 11 
 
 were regarded as often mischievous, and apt 
 to take offence ; sometimes as essentially 
 malevolent- even the most beautiful, like 
 the Venus of Tannhauser, being often on that 
 very account all the more dangerous ; while 
 the Mountains and Forests, the Lakes and 
 Seas, were the abodes of hideous ghosts and 
 horrible monsters, of Giants and Ogres, Sor- 
 cerers and Demons. These fears, though 
 vague, were none the less extreme, and the 
 judicial records of the Middle Ages furnish 
 only too conclusive evidence that they were 
 a terrible reality. The light of Science has 
 now happily dispelled these fearful nightmares. 
 Unfortunately, however, as men have mul- 
 tiplied, their energies have hitherto tended, 
 not to beautify, but to mar. Forests have 
 been cut down, and replaced by flat fields in 
 geometrical squares, or on the continent by 
 narrow strips. Here and there indeed we 
 meet with oases, in which beauty has not 
 been sacrificed to profit, and it is then happily 
 found that not only is there no loss, but the 
 earth seems to reward even more richly those 
 who treat her with love and respect. 
 
12 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Scarcely any part of the world affords so 
 great a variety in so small an area as our own 
 island. Commencing in the south, we have 
 first the blue sea itself, the pebbly beaches, 
 the white chalk cliffs of Kent, the tinted 
 sands of Alurn Bay, the Red Sandstone of 
 Devonshire, Granite and Gneiss in Cornwall : 
 inland we have the chalk Downs and clear 
 streams, the well-wooded weald and the rich 
 hop gardens ; farther westwards the undu- 
 lating gravelly hills, and still farther the 
 granite tors : in the centre of England we 
 have to the east the Norfolk Broads and 
 the Fens ; then the fertile Midlands, the 
 cornfields, rich meadows, and large oxen ; and 
 to the west the Welsh mountains ; farther 
 north the Yorkshire Wolds, the Lancashire 
 hills, the Lakes of Westmoreland ; lastly, the 
 swelling hills, bleak moors, and picturesque 
 castles of Northumberland and Cumberland. 
 
 There are of course far larger rivers, but 
 perhaps none lovelier than 
 
 The crystal Thamis wont to glide 
 
 In silver channel, down along the lee, 1 
 
 1 Spenser. 
 
I INTRODUCTION 13 
 
 by lawns and parks, meadows and wooded 
 banks, dotted with country houses and crowned 
 by Windsor Castle itself (see Frontispiece). 
 By many Scotland is considered even more 
 beautiful. 
 
 And yet too many of us see nothing in the 
 fields but sacks of wheat, in the meadows but 
 trusses of hay, and in woods but planks for 
 houses, or cover for game. Even from this 
 more prosaic point of view, how much there 
 is to wonder at and admire, in the wonderful 
 chemistry which changes grass and leaves, 
 flowers and seeds, into bread and milk, eggs 
 and cream, butter and honey ! 
 
 Almost everything, says Hamerton, "that 
 the Peasant does, is lifted above vulgarity 
 by ancient, and often sacred, associations." 
 There is, indeed, hardly any business or occu- 
 pation with reference to which the same might 
 not be said. The triviality or vulgarity does 
 not depend on what we do, but on the spirit 
 in which it is done. Not only the regular pro- 
 fessions, but every useful occupation in life, 
 however humble, is honourable in itself, and 
 may be pursued with dignity and peace. 
 
14 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Working in this spirit we have also the sat- 
 isfaction of feeling that, as in some mountain 
 track every one who takes the right path, 
 seems to make the way clearer for those who 
 follow ; so may we also raise the profession 
 we adopt, and smooth the way for those who 
 come after us. But, even for those who are 
 not Agriculturists, it must be admitted that 
 the country has special charms. One perhaps 
 is the continual change. Every week brings 
 some fresh leaf or flower, bird or insect. 
 Every month again has its own charms and 
 beauty. We sit quietly at home and Nature 
 decks herself for us. 
 
 In truth we all love change. Some think 
 they do not care for it, but I doubt if they 
 know themselves. 
 
 "Not," said Jefferies, "for many years 
 was I able to see why I went the same round 
 and did not care for change. I do not want 
 change : I want the same old and loved things, 
 the same wild flowers, the same trees and soft 
 ash-green; the turtle-doves, the blackbirds, 
 the coloured yellow-hammer sing, sing, sing- 
 ing so long as there is light to cast a shadow 
 
i INTRODUCTION 15 
 
 on the dial, for such is the measure of his 
 song, and I want them in the same place. 
 Let me find them morning after morning, 
 the starry-white petals radiating, striving 
 upwards up to their ideal. Let me see the 
 idle shadows resting on the white dust ; let 
 me hear the humble-bees, and stay to look 
 down on the yellow dandelion disk. Let me 
 see the very thistles opening their great 
 crowns I should miss the thistles ; the reed 
 grasses hiding the moor-hen ; the bryony 
 bine, at first crudely ambitious and lifted by 
 force of youthful sap straight above the 
 hedgerow to sink of its weight presently and 
 progress with crafty tendrils ; swifts shot 
 through the air with outstretched wings like 
 crescent-headed shaftless arrows darted from 
 the clouds ; the chaffinch with a feather in 
 her bill ; all the living staircase of the spring, 
 step by step, upwards to the great gallery of 
 the summer, let me watch the same succession 
 year by year." 
 
 After all then he did enjoy the change 
 and the succession. 
 
 Kingsley again in his charming prose 
 
16 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 idyll "My Winter Garden" tries to persuade 
 himself that he was glad he had never 
 travelled, " having never yet actually got to 
 Paris." Monotony, he says, " is pleasant in 
 itself; morally pleasant, and morally useful. 
 Marriage is monotonous ; but there is much, 
 I trust, to be said in favour of holy wedlock. 
 Living in the same house is monotonous ; 
 but three removes, say the wise, are as bad 
 as a fire. Locomotion is regarded as an evil 
 by our Litany. The Litany, as usual, is 
 right. ' Those who travel by land or sea ' are 
 to be objects of our pity and our prayers ; 
 and I do pity them. I delight in that same 
 monotony. It saves curiosity, anxiety, ex- 
 citement, disappointment, and a host of bad 
 passions." 
 
 But even as he writes one can see that 
 he does not convince himself. Possibly, he 
 admits, " after all, the grapes are sour " ; and 
 when some years after he did travel, how 
 happy he was ! At last, he says, trium- 
 phantly, " At last we too are crossing the 
 Atlantic. At last the dream of forty years, 
 please God, would be fulfilled, and I should 
 
i INTRODUCTION 17 
 
 see (and happily not alone), the West Indies 
 and the Spanish Main. From childhood I 
 had studied their Natural History, their 
 Charts, their Romances ; and now, at last, I 
 was about to compare books with facts, and 
 judge for myself of the reported wonders of 
 the Earthly Paradise." 
 
 No doubt there is much to see everywhere. 
 The Poet and the Naturalist find " tropical 
 forests in every square foot of turf." It may 
 even be better, and especially for the more 
 sensitive natures, to live mostly in quiet 
 scenery, among fields and hedgerows, woods 
 and downs ; but it is surely good for every 
 one, from time to time, to refresh and 
 strengthen both mind and body by a spell of 
 Sea air or Mountain beauty. 
 
 On the other hand we are told, and told 
 of course with truth, that though mountains 
 may be the cathedrals of Nature, they are 
 generally remote from centres of population ; 
 that our great cities are grimy, dark, and 
 ugly ; that factories are creeping over several 
 of our counties, blighting them into building 
 ground, replacing trees by chimneys, and 
 
18 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 destroying almost every vestige of natural 
 beauty. 
 
 But if this be true, is it not all the more 
 desirable that our people should have access 
 to pictures and books, which may in some 
 small degree, at any rate, replace what they 
 have thus unfortunately lost ? We cannot all 
 travel ; and even those who can, are able to 
 see but a small part of the world. More- 
 over, though no one who has once seen, can 
 ever forget, the Alps, the Swiss lakes, or the 
 Riviera, still the recollection becomes less 
 vivid as years roll on, and it is pleasant, 
 from time to time, to be reminded of their 
 beauties. 
 
 There is one other advantage not less 
 important. We sometimes speak x as if to 
 visit a country, and to see it, were the same 
 thing. But this is not so. It is not every 
 one who can see Switzerland like a Ruskin 
 or a Tyndall. Their beautiful descriptions 
 of mountain scenery depend less on their 
 mastery of the English language, great as that 
 is, than on their power of seeing what is 
 before them. It has been to me therefore a 
 
i INTRODUCTION 19 
 
 matter of much interest to know which 
 aspects of Nature have given the greatest 
 pleasure to, or have most impressed, those 
 who, either from wide experience or from 
 their love of Nature, may be considered best 
 able to judge. I will begin with an English 
 scene from Kingsley. He is describing his 
 return from a day's trout-fishing : 
 
 "What shall we see," he says, " as we look 
 across the broad, still, clear river, where the 
 great dark trout sail to and fro lazily in the 
 sun? White chalk fields above, quivering 
 hazy in the heat. A park full of merry hay- 
 makers ; gay red and blue waggons ; stalwart 
 horses switching off the flies ; dark avenues 
 of tall elms ; groups of abele, 6 tossing their 
 whispering silver to the sun ' ; and amid them 
 the house, a great square red-brick mass, 
 made light and cheerful though by quoins 
 and windows of white Sarsden stone, with 
 high peaked French roofs, broken by louvres 
 and dormers, haunted by a thousand swallows 
 and starlings. Old walled gardens, gay with 
 flowers, shall stretch right and left. Clipt 
 yew alleys shall wander away into mysterious 
 
20 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 glooms, and out of their black arches shall 
 come tripping children, like white fairies, to 
 laugh and talk with the girl who lies dream- 
 ing and reading in the hammock there, beneath 
 the black velvet canopy of the great cedar 
 tree, like some fair tropic flower hanging from 
 its boughs ; and we will sit down, and eat 
 and drink among the burdock leaves, and 
 then watch the quiet house, and lawn, and 
 flowers, and fair human creatures, and shining 
 water, all sleeping breathless in the glorious 
 light beneath the glorious blue, till we doze 
 off, lulled by the murmur of a thousand in- 
 sects, and the rich minstrelsy of nightingale 
 and blackcap, thrush and dove. 
 
 " Peaceful, graceful, complete English coun- 
 try life and country houses ; everywhere fin- 
 ish and polish ; Nature perfected by the wealth 
 and art of peaceful centuries ! Why should 
 I exchange you, even for the sight of all the 
 Alps?" 
 
 Though Jefferies was unfortunately never 
 able to travel, few men have loved Nature 
 more devotedly, and speaking of his own 
 home he expresses his opinion that : " Of all 
 
i INTRODUCTION 21 
 
 sweet things there is none so sweet as fresh 
 air one great flower it is, drawn round about; 
 over, and enclosing us ? like Aphrodite's arms ; 
 as if the dome of the sky were a bell-flower 
 drooping down over us, and the magical 
 essence of it filling all the room of the earth. 
 Sweetest of all things is wild-flower air. Full 
 of their ideal the starry flowers strained up- 
 wards on the bank, striving to keep above 
 the rude grasses that push by them ; genius 
 has ever had such a struggle. The plain road 
 was made beautiful by the many thoughts it 
 gave. I came every morning to stay by the 
 star-lit bank." 
 
 Passing to countries across the ocean, Hum- 
 boldt tells us that : " If I might be allowed to 
 abandon myself to the recollection of my own 
 distant travels, I would instance, amongst the 
 most striking scenes of nature, the calm sub- 
 limity of a tropical night, when the stars, not 
 sparkling, as in our northern skies, shed their 
 soft and planetary light over the gently heav- 
 ing ocean ; or I would recall the deep valleys 
 of the Cordilleras, where the tall and slender 
 palms pierce the leafy veil around them, and 
 
22 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 waving on high their feathery and arrow-like 
 branches, form, as it were, ' a forest above a 
 forest ' ; or I would describe the summit of 
 the Peak of Teneriffe, when a horizon layer 
 of clouds, dazzling in whiteness, has separated 
 the cone of cinders from the plain below, and 
 suddenly the ascending current pierces the 
 cloudy veil, so that the eye of the traveller 
 may range from the brink of the crater, along 
 the vine-clad slopes of Orotava, to the orange 
 gardens and banana groves that skirt the 
 shore. In scenes like these, it is not the 
 peaceful charm uniformly spread over the face 
 of nature that moves the heart, but rather the 
 peculiar physiognomy and conformation of the 
 land, the features of the landscape, the ever- 
 varying outline of the clouds, and their blend- 
 ing with the horizon of the sea, whether it 
 lies spread before us like a smooth and shining 
 mirror, or is dimly seen through the morning 
 mist. All that the senses can but imperfectly 
 comprehend, all that is most awful in such 
 romantic scenes of nature, may become a 
 source of enjoyment to man, by opening a wide 
 field to the creative power of his imagination. 
 
i INTRODUCTION 23 
 
 Impressions change with the varying move- 
 ments of the mind, and we are led by a happy 
 illusion to believe that we receive from the ex- 
 ternal world that with which we have our- 
 selves invested it." 
 
 Hurnboldt also singles out for especial praise 
 the following description given of Tahiti by 
 Darwin l : 
 
 " The land capable of cultivation is scarcely 
 in any part more than a fringe of low alluvial 
 soil, accumulated round the base of mountains, 
 and protected from the waves of the sea by a 
 coral reef, which encircles at a distance the 
 entire line of coast. The reef is broken in sev- 
 eral parts so that ships can pass through, and 
 the lake of smooth water within, thus affords 
 a safe harbour, as well as a channel for the 
 native canoes. The low land which comes 
 down to the beach of coral sand is covered by 
 the most beautiful productions of the inter- 
 tropical regions. In the midst of bananas, 
 orange, cocoa-nut, and breadfruit trees, spots 
 are cleared where yams, sweet potatoes, sugar- 
 cane, and pine-apples are cultivated. Even 
 
 1 Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle. 
 
24 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE ^ CHAP. 
 
 the brushwood is a fruit tree, namely, the 
 guava, which from its abundance is as noxious 
 as a weed. In Brazil I have often admired 
 the contrast of varied beauty in the banana, 
 palm, and orange tree; here we have in addi- 
 tion the breadfruit tree, conspicuous from its 
 large, gloss}^, and deeply digitated leaf. It is 
 admirable to behold groves of a tree, sending 
 forth its branches with the force of an Eng- 
 lish Oak, loaded with large and most nutri- 
 tious fruit. However little on most occasions 
 utility explains the delight received from any 
 fine prospect, in this case it cannot fail to en- 
 ter as an element in the feeling. The little 
 winding paths, cool from the surrounding 
 shade, led to the scattered houses ; and the 
 owners of these everywhere gave us a cheerful 
 and most hospitable reception." 
 
 Darwin himself has told us, after going 
 round the world that " in calling up images of 
 the past, I find the plains of Patagonia fre- 
 quently cross before my eyes ; yet these plains 
 are pronounced by all to be most wretched 
 and useless. They are characterised only by 
 negative possessions ; without habitations, 
 
r INTRODUCTION 25 
 
 without water, without trees, without moun- 
 tains, they support only a few dwarf plants. 
 Why then and the case is not peculiar to 
 myself have these arid wastes taken so firm 
 possession of my mind ? Why have not the 
 still more level, the greener and more fertile 
 pampas, which are serviceable to mankind, 
 produced an equal impression ? I can scarcely 
 analyse these feelings, but it must be partly 
 owing to the free scope given to the imagina- 
 tion. The plains of Patagonia are boundless, 
 for they are scarcely practicable, and hence 
 unknown ; they bear the stamp of having thus 
 lasted for ages, and there appears no limit to 
 their duration through future time. If, as 
 the ancients supposed, the flat earth was sur- 
 rounded by an impassable breadth of water, 
 or by deserts heated to an intolerable excess, 
 who would not look at these last boundaries 
 to man's knowledge with deep but ill-de- 
 fined sensations ? " 
 
 Hamerton, whose wide experience and 
 artistic power make his opinion especially 
 important, says : 
 
 " I know nothing in the visible world that 
 
26 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 combines splendour and purity so perfectly as 
 a great mountain entirely covered with frozen 
 snow and reflected in the vast mirror of a 
 lake. As the sun declines, its thousand 
 shadows lengthen, pure as the cold green 
 azure in the depth of a glacier's crevasse, and 
 the illuminated snow takes first the tender 
 colour of a white rose, and then the flush of a 
 red one, and the sky turns to a pale malachite 
 green, till the rare strange vision fades into 
 ghastly gray, but leaves with you a permanent 
 recollection of its too transient beauty." l 
 
 Wallace especially, and very justly, praises 
 the description of tropical forest scenery given 
 by Belt in his charming Naturalist in Nica- 
 ragua : 
 
 " On each side of the road great trees 
 towered up, carrying their crowns out of sight 
 amongst a canopy of foliage, and with lianas 
 hanging from nearly every bough, and passing 
 from tree to tree, entangling the giants in a 
 great network of coiling cables. Sometimes 
 a tree appears covered with beautiful flowers 
 which do not belong to it, but to one of the 
 
 1 Hainerton's Landscape. 
 
i INTRODUCTION 27 
 
 lianas that twines through its branches and 
 sends down great rope-like stems to the 
 ground. Climbing ferns and vanilla cling to 
 the trunks, and a thousand epiphytes perch 
 themselves on the branches. Amongst these 
 are large arums that send down long aerial 
 roots, tough and strong, and universally used 
 instead of cordage by the natives. Amongst 
 the undergrowth several small species of 
 palms, varying in height from two to fifteen 
 feet, are common ; and now and then magnif- 
 icent tree ferns send off their feathery crowns 
 twenty feet from the ground to delight the 
 sight by their graceful elegance. Great broad- 
 leaved heliconias, leathery melastomse, and 
 succulent-stemmed, lop-sided leaved and flesh- 
 coloured begonias are abundant, and typical of 
 tropical American forests ; but not less so are 
 the cecropia trees, with their white stems and 
 large palmated leaves standing up like great 
 candelabra. Sometimes the ground is carpeted 
 with large flowers, yellow, pink, or white, 
 that have fallen from some invisible tree-top 
 above ; or the air is filled with a delicious 
 perfume, the source of which one seeks around 
 
28 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 in vain, for the flowers that cause it are far 
 overhead out of sight, lost in the great over- 
 shadowing crown of verdure." 
 
 " But," he adds, " the uniformity of climate 
 which has led to this rich luxuriance and end- 
 less variety of vegetation is also the cause of 
 a monotony that in time becomes oppressive." 
 To quote the words of Mr. Belt : " Unknown 
 are the autumn tints, the bright browns and 
 yellows of English woods ; much less the crim- 
 sons, purples, and yellows of Canada, where 
 the dying foliage rivals, nay, excels, the ex- 
 piring dolphin in splendour. Unknown the 
 cold sleep of winter ; unknown the lovely 
 awakening of vegetation at the first gentle 
 touch of spring. A ceaseless round of ever- 
 active life weaves the fairest scenery of the 
 tropics into one monotonous whole, of which 
 the component parts exhibit in detail untold 
 variety of beauty." 
 
 Siberia is no doubt as a rule somewhat 
 severe and inhospitable, but M. Patrin men- 
 tions with enthusiasm how one day descend- 
 ing from the frozen summits of the Altai, he 
 came suddenly on a view of the plain of the 
 
r INTRODUCTION 29 
 
 Obi the most beautiful spectacle, he says, 
 which he had ever witnessed. Behind him 
 were barren rocks and the snows of winter, in 
 front a great plain, not indeed entirely green, 
 or green only in places, and for the rest 
 covered by three flowers, the purple Siberian 
 Iris, the golden Hemerocallis, and the silvery 
 Narcissus green, purple, gold, and white, 
 as far as the eye could reach. 
 
 Wallace tells us that he himself has de- 
 rived the keenest enjoyment from his sense 
 of colour : 
 
 " The heavenly blue of the firmament, the 
 glowing tints of sunset, the exquisite purity 
 of the snowy mountains, and the endless 
 shades of green presented by the verdure-clad 
 surface of the earth, are a never -failing 
 source of pleasure to all who enjoy the ines- 
 timable gift of sight. Yet these constitute, 
 as it were, but the frame and background of 
 a marvellous and ever-changing picture. In 
 contrast with these broad and soothing tints, 
 we have presented to us in the vegetable and 
 animal worlds an infinite variety of objects 
 adorned with the most beautiful and most 
 
30 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 varied hues. Flowers, insects, and birds are 
 the organisms most generally ornamented in 
 this way ; and their symmetry of form, their 
 variety of structure, and the lavish abun- 
 dance with which they clothe and enliven 
 the earth, cause them to be objects of 
 universal admiration. The relation of this 
 wealth of colour to our mental and moral 
 nature is indisputable. The child and the 
 savage alike admire the gay tints of flowers, 
 birds, and insects ; while to many of us their 
 contemplation brings a solace and enjoyment 
 which is both intellectually and morally 
 beneficial. It can then hardly excite surprise 
 that this relation was long thought to afford a 
 sufficient explanation of the phenomena of col- 
 our in nature; and although the fact that 
 
 Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air, 
 
 might seem to throw some doubt on the suffi- 
 ciency of the explanation, the answer was 
 easy, that in the progress of discovery man 
 would, sooner or later, find out and enjoy 
 every beauty that the hidden recesses of the 
 earth have in store for him." 
 
i INTRODUCTION 31 
 
 Professor Colvin speaks with special admi- 
 ration of Greek scenery : 
 
 " In other climates, it is only in particular 
 states of the weather that the remote ever 
 seems so close, and then with an effect which 
 is sharp and hard as well as clear-; here the 
 clearness is soft ; nothing cuts or glitters, seen 
 through that magic distance ; the air has not 
 only a new transparency so that you can see 
 farther into it than elsewhere, but a new 
 quality, like some crystal of an unknown 
 water, so that to see into it is greater glory." 
 Speaking of the ranges and promontories of 
 sterile limestone, the same writer observes 
 that their colours are as austere and delicate 
 as the forms. " If here the scar of some old 
 quarry throws a stain, or there the clinging of 
 some thin leafage spreads a bloom, the stain 
 is of precious gold, and the bloom of silver. 
 Between the blue of the sky and the tenfold 
 blue of the sea these bare ranges seem, be- 
 neath that daylight, to present a whole sys- 
 tem of noble colour flung abroad over perfect 
 forms. And wherever, in the general sterility, 
 you find a little moderate verdure a little 
 
32 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 moist grass, a cluster of cypresses or when- 
 ever your eye lights upon the one wood of the 
 district, the long olive grove of the Cephissus, 
 you are struck with a sudden sense of richness, 
 and feel as if the splendours of the tropics 
 would be nothing to this." 
 
 Most travellers have been fascinated by the 
 beauty of night in the tropics. Our even- 
 ings no doubt are often delicious also, though 
 the mild climate we enjoy is partly due to the 
 sky being so often overcast. In parts of the 
 tropics, however, the air is calm and cloud- 
 less throughout nearly the whole of the year. 
 There is no dew, and the inhabitants sleep on 
 the house-tops, in full view of the brightness 
 of the stars and the beauty of the sk}^ which 
 is almost indescribable. 
 
 " II faisait," says Bernardin de St. Pierre of 
 such a scene, " une de ces nuits delicieuses, si 
 communes entre les tropiques, et dont le plus 
 abile pinceau ne rendrait pas le beaute. La 
 lune paraissait au milieu du firmament, en- 
 touree d'un rideau de images, que ses rayons 
 dissipaient par degres. Sa lumiere se repan- 
 dait insensiblement sur les montagnes de 1'ile 
 
i INTRODUCTION 33 
 
 et sur leurs pitons, qui brillaient d'un vert 
 argente. Les vents retenaient leurs haleines. 
 On entendait dans les bois, au fond des vallees, 
 au haut des rochers, de petits cris, de doux mur- 
 mures d'oiseaux, qui se caressaient dans leurs 
 nids, rejouis par la clarte de la nuit et la tran- 
 quillite de 1'air. Tous, jusqu'aux insectes, 
 bruissaient sous 1'herbe. Les etoiles etince- 
 laient au ciel ? et se reflechissaient au sein de 
 la mer, qui repetait leurs images tremblantes." 
 In the Arctic and Antarctic regions the 
 nights are often made quite gorgeous by the 
 Northern Lights or Aurora borealis, and 
 the corresponding appearance in the Southern 
 hemisphere. The Aurora borealis generally 
 begins towards evening, and first appears as a 
 faint glimmer in the north, like the approach 
 of dawn. Gradually a curve of light spreads 
 like an immense arch of yellowish-white hue, 
 which gains rapidly in brilliancy, flashes and 
 vibrates like a flame in the wind. Often two 
 or even three arches appear one over the 
 other. After a while coloured rays dart 
 upwards in divergent pencils, often green 
 below, yellow in the centre, and crimson 
 
34 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 above, while it is said that sometimes almost 
 black, or at least very dark violet, rays are 
 interspersed among the rings of* light, and 
 heighten their effect by contrast. Sometimes 
 the two ends of the arch seem to rise off the 
 horizon, and the whole sheet of light throbs 
 and undulates like a fringed curtain of light ; 
 sometimes the sheaves of rays unite into an 
 immense cupola ; while at others the separate 
 rays seem alternately lit and extinguished. 
 Gradually the light flickers and fades away, 
 and has generally disappeared before the first 
 glimpse of dawn. 
 
 We seldom see the Aurora in the south of 
 England, but we must not complain ; our 
 winters are mild, and every month has its 
 own charm and beauty. 
 
 In January we have the lengthening days. 
 
 " February " the first butterfly. 
 
 " March " the opening buds. 
 
 " April " the young leaves and 
 
 spring flowers. 
 
 " May " the song of birds. 
 
 " June " the sweet new-mown 
 
 hay. 
 
i INTRODUCTION 35 
 
 In July we have the summer flowers. 
 
 " August the golden grain. 
 
 " September " the fruit. 
 
 " October the autumn tints. 
 
 " November " the hoar frost on trees 
 
 and the pure snow. 
 
 " December last not least, the holi- 
 
 days of Christmas, 
 and the bright fire- 
 side. 
 
 It is well to begin the year in January, 
 for we have then before us all the hope of 
 spring. 
 
 Oh wind, 
 If winter comes, can spring be long behind? 1 
 
 Spring seems to revive us all. In the Song 
 of Solomon 
 
 My beloved spake, and said unto me, 
 
 Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. 
 
 For, lo, the winter is past, 
 
 The rain is over and gone ; 
 
 The flowers appear on the earth ; 
 
 The time of the singing of birds is come, 
 
 The voice of the turtle is heard in our land, 
 
 The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, 
 
 And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. 
 
 1 Shelley. 
 
36 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 " But indeed there are days," says Emer- 
 son, " which occur in this climate, at almost 
 any season of the year, wherein the world 
 reaches its perfection, when the air, the 
 heavenly bodies, and the earth make a har- 
 mony, as if nature would indulge her off- 
 spring. ... These halcyon days may be 
 looked for with a little more assurance in 
 that pure October weather, which we distin- 
 guish by the name of the Indian summer. 
 The day, immeasurably long, sleeps over the 
 broad hills and warm wide fields. To have 
 lived through all its sunny hours, seems 
 longevity enough." Yet does not the very 
 name of Indian summer imply the superi- 
 ority of the summer itself, the real, the 
 true summer, " when the young corn is burst- 
 ing into ear ; the awned heads of rye, wheat, 
 and barley, and the nodding panicles of oats, 
 shoot from their green and glaucous stems, in 
 broad, level, and waving expanses of present 
 beauty and future promise. The very waters 
 are strewn with flowers : the buck-bean, the 
 water-violet, the elegant flowering rush, and 
 the queen of the waters, the pure and splendid 
 
i INTRODUCTION 37 
 
 white lily, invest every stream and lonely 
 mere with grace." l 
 
 For our greater power of perceiving, and 
 therefore of enjoying Nature, we are greatly 
 indebted to Science. Over and above what is 
 visible to the unaided eye, the two magic 
 tubes, the telescope and microscope, have re- 
 vealed to us, at least partially, the infinitely 
 great and the infinitely little. 
 
 Science, our Fairy Godmother, will, unless 
 we perversely reject her help, and refuse her 
 gifts, so richly endow us, that fewer hours 
 of labour will serve to supply us with the 
 material necessaries of life, leaving us more 
 time to ourselves, more leisure to enjoy all 
 that makes life best worth living. 
 
 Even now we all have some leisure, and for 
 it we cannot be too grateful. 
 
 "If any one," says Seneca, "gave you a 
 few acres, you would say that you had re- 
 ceived a benefit ; can you deny that the 
 boundless extent of the earth is a benefit ? If 
 a house were given you, bright with marble, 
 its roof beautifully painted with colours and 
 
 1 Hewitt's Book of the Seasons. 
 
38 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, i 
 
 gilding, you would call it no small benefit. 
 God has built for you a mansion that fears 
 no fire or ruin . . . covered with a roof which 
 glitters in one fashion by day, and in another 
 by night. Whence comes the breath which 
 you draw ; the light by which you perform 
 the actions of your life ? the blood by which 
 your life is maintained ? the meat by which 
 your hunger is appeased ? . . . The true God 
 has planted, not a few oxen, but all the herds 
 on their pastures throughout the world, and 
 furnished food to all the flocks ; he has or- 
 dained the alternation of summer and winter 
 ... he has invented so many arts and varie- 
 ties of voice, so many notes to make music. 
 . . . We have implanted in us the seeds of 
 all ages, of all arts ; and God our Master 
 brings forth our intellects from obscurity." l 
 
 1 Seneca, De Beneficiis. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE 
 
If thy heart be right, then will every creature be to thee 
 a mirror of life, and a book of holy doctrine. 
 
 THOMAS A KEMPIS. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE 
 
 THERE is no species of animal or plant which 
 would not well repay, I will not say merely 
 the study of a day, but even the devotion of 
 a lifetime. Their form and structure, develop- 
 ment and habits, geographical distribution, 
 relation to other living beings, and past 
 history, constitute an inexhaustible study. 
 
 When we consider how much we owe to 
 the Dog, Man's faithful friend, to the noble 
 Horse, the patient Ox, the Cow, the Sheep, 
 and our other domestic animals, we cannot 
 be too grateful to them ; and if we cannot, 
 like some ancient nations, actually worship 
 them, we have perhaps fallen into the other 
 extreme, underrate the sacredness of animal 
 life, and treat them too much like mere 
 machines. 
 
 41 
 
42 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Some species, however, are no doubt more 
 interesting than others, especially perhaps 
 those which live together in true communi- 
 ties, and which offer so many traits some 
 sad, some comical, and all interesting, which 
 reproduce more or less closely the circum- 
 stances of our own life. 
 
 The modes of animal life are almost in- 
 finitely diversified ; some live on land, some 
 in water ; of those which are aquatic some 
 dwell in rivers, some in lakes or pools, some 
 on the sea-shore, others in the depths of the 
 ocean. Some burrow in the ground, some 
 find their home in the air. Some live in the 
 Arctic regions, some in the burning deserts ; 
 one little beetle (Hydrobius) in the thermal 
 waters of Hammam-Meskoutin, at a tempera- 
 ture of 130. As to food, some are carnivor- 
 ous and wage open war ; some, more insidious, 
 attack their victims from within ; others feed 
 on vegetable food, on leaves or wood, on seeds 
 or fruits ; in fact, there is scarcely an animal 
 or vegetable substance which is not the special 
 and favourite food of one or more species. 
 Hence to adapt them to these various require- 
 
n ON ANIMAL LIFE 43 
 
 ments we find the utmost differences of form 
 and size and structure. Even the same in- 
 dividual often goes through great changes. 
 
 GROWTH AND METAMORPHOSES 
 
 The development, indeed, of an animal 
 from birth to maturity is no mere question 
 of growth. The metamorphoses of Insects 
 have long excited the wonder and admiration 
 of all lovers of nature. They depend to a 
 great extent on the fact that the little 
 creatures quit the egg at an early stage of 
 development, and lead a different life, so 
 that the external forces acting on them, 
 are very different from those by which they 
 are affected when they arrive at maturity. A 
 remarkable case is that of certain Beetles 
 which are parasitic on Solitary Bees. The 
 young lava is very active, with six strong 
 legs. It conceals itself in some flower, and 
 when the Bee comes in search of honey, leaps 
 upon her, but is so minute as not to be per- 
 ceived. The Bee constructs her cell, stores it 
 
44 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 with honey, and lays her egg. At that mo- 
 ment the little larva quits the Bee and jumps 
 on to the egg, which she proceeds gradually 
 to devour. Having finished the egg, she 
 attacks the honey; but under these circum- 
 stances the activity which was at first so 
 necessary has become useless ; the legs which 
 did such good service are no longer required ; 
 and the active slim larva changes into a white 
 fleshy grub, which floats comfortably in the 
 honey with its mouth just below the surface. 
 
 Even in the same group we may find great 
 differences. For instance, in the family of 
 Insects to which Bees and Wasps belong, 
 some have grub larvae, such as the Bee and 
 Ant ; some have larvae like caterpillars, such 
 as the Sawflies; and there is a group of 
 minute forms the larvse of which live inside 
 the eggs of other insects, and present very 
 remarkable and abnormal forms. 
 
 These differences depend mainly on the 
 mode of life and the character of the food. 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 45 
 
 RUDIMENTARY ORGANS 
 
 Such modifications may be called adaptive, 
 but there are others of a different origin 
 that have reference to the changes which 
 the race has passed through in bygone ages. 
 In fact the great majority of animals do go 
 through metamorphoses (many of them as 
 remarkable, though not so familiar as those 
 of insects), but in many cases they are passed 
 through within the egg and thus escape 
 popular observation. Naturalists who accept 
 the theory of evolution, consider that the 
 development of each individual represents to 
 a certain extent that which the species has 
 itself gone through in the lapse of ages ; that 
 every individual contains within itself, so to 
 say, a history of the race. Thus the rudi- 
 mentary teeth of Cows, Sheep, Whales, etc. 
 (which never emerge from their sockets), the 
 rudimentary toes of many mammals, the hind 
 legs of Whales and of the Boa-constrictor, 
 which are imbedded in the flesh, the rudi- 
 mentary collar-bone of the Dog, etc., are in- 
 
46 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 dications of descent from ancestors in which 
 these organs were fully developed. Again, 
 though used for such different purposes, the 
 paddle of a Whale, the leg of a Horse and of 
 a Mole, the wing of a Bird or a Bat, and the 
 arm of a Man, are all constructed on the same 
 model, include corresponding bones, and are 
 similarly arranged. The long neck of the 
 Giraffe, and the short one of the Whale (if 
 neck it can be called), contain the same 
 number of vertebrae. 
 
 Even after birth the young of allied species 
 resemble one another much more than the 
 mature forms. The stripes on the young 
 Lion, the spots on the young Blackbird, are 
 well-known cases; and we find the same law 
 prevalent among the lower animals, as, for 
 instance, among Insects and Crustacea. The 
 Lobster, Crab, Shrimp, and Barnacle are very 
 unlike when full grown, but in their young 
 stages go through essentially similar metamor- 
 phoses. 
 
 No animal is perhaps in this respect more 
 interesting than the Horse. The skull of a 
 Horse and that of a Man, though differing so 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 47 
 
 much, are, says Flower, 1 " composed of exactly 
 the same number of bones, having the same 
 general arrangement and relation to each 
 other. Not only the individual bones, but 
 every ridge and surface for the attachment of 
 muscles, and every hole for the passage of 
 artery or nerve, seen in the one can be traced 
 in the other." It is often said that the 
 Horse presents a remarkable peculiarity in 
 that the canine teeth grow but once. There 
 are, however, in most Horses certain spicules 
 or minute points which are shed before the 
 appearance of the permanent canines, and 
 which are probably the last remnants of the 
 true milk canines. 
 
 The foot is reduced to a single toe, repre- 
 senting the third digit, but the second and 
 fourth, though rudimentary, are represented 
 by the splint bones ; while the foot also con- 
 tains traces of several muscles, originally 
 belonging to the toes which have now disap- 
 peared, and which " linger as it were behind, 
 with new relations and uses, sometimes in 
 a reduced, and almost, if not quite, function- 
 
 1 The Horse. 
 
48 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 less condition." Even Man himself presents 
 traces of gill-openings, and indications of 
 other organs which are fully developed in 
 lower animals. 
 
 MODIFICATIONS 
 
 There is in New Zealand a form of Crow 
 (Hura), in which the female has undergone a 
 very curious modification. It is the only case 
 I know, in which the bill is differently shaped 
 in the two sexes. The bird has taken on the 
 habits of a Woodpecker, and the stout crow- 
 like bill of the cock-bird is admirably adapted 
 to tap trees, and if they sound hollow, to dig 
 down to the burrow of the Insect ; but it 
 lacks the horny-pointed tip of the tongue, 
 which in the true Woodpecker is provided 
 with recurved hairs, thus enabling that bird 
 to pierce the grub and draw it out. In the 
 Hura, however, the bill of the hen-bird has 
 become much elongated and slightly curved, 
 and when the cock has dug down to the 
 burrow, the hen inserts her long bill and 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 49 
 
 draws out the grub, which they then divide 
 between them : a very pretty illustration of 
 the wife as helpmate to the husband. 
 
 It was indeed until lately the general 
 opinion that animals and plants came into 
 existence just as we now see them. We took 
 pleasure in their beauty ; their adaptation to 
 their habits and mode of life in many cases 
 could not be overlooked or misunderstood. 
 Nevertheless the book of Nature was like 
 some missal richly illuminated, but written in 
 an unknown tongue. The graceful forms of 
 the letters, the beauty of the colouring, excited 
 our Avonder and admiration ; but of the true 
 meaning little was known to us ; indeed we 
 scarcely realised that there was any meaning 
 to decipher. Now glimpses of the truth are 
 gradually revealing themselves, we perceive 
 that there is a reason, and in many cases we 
 know what the reason is, for every difference 
 in form, in size, and in colour ; for every bone 
 and every feather, almost for every hair. 1 
 
 1 Lubbock, Fifty Years of Science. 
 
50 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 COLOUR 
 
 The colours of animals, generally, I believe, 
 serve as a protection. In some, however, 
 they probably render them more attractive to 
 their mates, of which the Peacock is one of 
 the most remarkable illustrations. 
 
 In richness of colour birds and insects vie 
 even with flowers. " One fine red admiral 
 butterfly," says Jefferies, 1 " whose broad wings, 
 stretched out like fans, looked simply splendid 
 floating round and round the willows which 
 marked the margin of a dry pool. His blue 
 markings were really blue blue velvet his 
 red and the white stroke shone as if sunbeams 
 were in his wings. I wish there were more 
 of these butterflies ; in summer, dry summer, 
 when the flowers seem gone and the grass is 
 not so dear to us, and the leaves are dull with 
 heat, a little colour is so pleasant. To me 
 colour is a sort of food ; every spot of colour 
 is a drop of wine to the spirit." 
 
 The varied colours which add so much to 
 
 1 The Open Air. 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 51 
 
 the beauty of animals and plants are not only 
 thus a delight to the eye, but afford us also 
 some of the most interesting problems in 
 Natural History. Some probably are not 
 in themselves of any direct advantage. 
 The brilliant mother-of-pearl of certain shells, 
 which during life is completely hidden, 
 the rich colours of some internal organs of 
 animals, are not perhaps of any direct 
 benefit, but are incidental, like the rich and 
 brilliant hues of many minerals and precious 
 stones. 
 
 But although this may be true, I believe 
 that most of these colours are now of some 
 advantage. " The black back and silvery 
 belly of fishes " have been recently referred to 
 by a distinguished naturalist as being obvi- 
 ously of no direct benefit. I should on 
 the contrary have quoted this case as one 
 where the advantage was obvious. The dark 
 back renders the fish less conspicuous to an 
 eye looking down into the water ; while the 
 white under-surface makes them less visible 
 from below. The animals of the desert are 
 sand-coloured ; those of the Arctic regions are 
 
52 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 white like snow, especially in winter ; and 
 pelagic animals are blue. 
 
 Let us take certain special cases. The 
 Lion, like other desert animals, is sand-col- 
 oured ; the Tiger which lives in the Jungle 
 has vertical stripes, making him difficult to 
 see among the upright grass ; Leopards and 
 the tree-cats are spotted, like rays of light 
 seen through leaves. 
 
 An interesting case is that of the animals 
 living in the Sargasso or gulf-weed of the 
 Atlantic. These creatures Fish, Crustacea, 
 and Mollusks alike are characterised by a 
 peculiar colouring, not continuously olive like 
 the Seaweed itself, but blotched with rounded 
 more or less irregular patches of bright, opake 
 white, so as closely to resemble fronds cov- 
 ered with patches of Flustra or Barnacles. 
 
 Take the case of caterpillars, which are 
 especially defenceless, and which as a rule 
 feed on leaves. The smallest and youngest 
 are green, like the leaves on which they live. 
 When they become larger, they are char- 
 acterised by longitudinal lines, which break 
 up the surface and thus render them less 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 53 
 
 conspicuous. On older and larger ones the 
 lines are diagonal, like the nerves of leaves. 
 Conspicuous caterpillars are generally either 
 nauseous in taste, or protected by hairs. 
 
 Fig. 1. Chcerocampa porcellus. 
 
 I say " generally/' because there are some 
 interesting exceptions. The large caterpillars 
 of some of the Elephant Hawkmoths are very 
 conspicuous, and rendered all the more so by 
 the presence of a pair of large eyelike spots. 
 Every one who sees one of these caterpillars 
 is struck by its likeness to a snake, and the 
 so-called " eyes " do much to increase the de- 
 ception. Moreover, the ring on which they 
 are placed is swollen, and the insect, when 
 in danger, has the habit of retracting its head 
 and front segments, which gives it an addi- 
 tional resemblance to some small reptile. That 
 small birds are, as a matter of fact, afraid of 
 these caterpillars (which, however, I need not 
 say, are in reality altogether harmless) Weis- 
 
54 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUKE CHAP. 
 
 maun has proved by actual experiment. He 
 put one of these caterpillars in a tray, in 
 which he was accustomed to place seed for 
 birds. Soon a little flock of sparrows and 
 other small birds assembled to feed as usual. 
 One of them lit on the edge of this tray, and 
 was just going to hop in, when she spied the 
 caterpillar. Immediately she began bobbing 
 her head up and down in the odd way which 
 some small birds have, but was afraid to go 
 nearer. Another joined her and then another, 
 until at last there was a little company of ten 
 or twelve birds all looking on in astonishment, 
 but not one ventured into the tray ; while 
 one bird, which lit in it unsuspectingly, beat a 
 hasty retreat in evident alarm as soon as she 
 perceived the caterpillar. After waiting for 
 some time, Weismann removed it, when the 
 birds soon attacked the seeds. Other cater- 
 pillars also are probably protected by their 
 curious resemblance to spotted snakes. One 
 of the large Indian caterpillars has even ac- 
 quired the power of hissing. 
 
 Among perfect insects many resemble closely 
 the substances near which they live. Some 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 55 
 
 moths are mottled so as to mimic the bark of 
 trees, or moss, or the surface of stones. One 
 beautiful tropical butterfly has a dark wing 
 on which are painted a series of green leaf 
 tips, so that it closely resembles the edge of 
 a pinnate leaf projecting out of shade into 
 sunshine. 
 
 The argument is strengthened by those 
 cases in which the protection, or other advan- 
 tage, is due not merely to colour, but partly 
 also to form. Such are the insects which 
 resemble sticks or leaves. Again, there are 
 cases in which insects mimic others, which, for 
 some reason or other, are less liable to danger. 
 So also many harmless animals mimic others 
 which are poisonous or otherwise well pro- 
 tected. Some butterflies, as Mr. Bates has 
 pointed out, mimic others which are nauseous 
 in taste, and therefore not attacked by birds. 
 In these cases it is generally only the females 
 that are mimetic, and in some cases only a 
 part of them, so that there are two, or even 
 three, kinds of females, the one retaining the 
 normal colouring of the group, the other 
 mimicking another species. Some spiders 
 
56 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 closely resemble Ants, and several other in- 
 sects mimic Wasps or Hornets. 
 
 Some reptiles and fish have actually the 
 power of changing the colour of their skin so 
 as to adapt themselves to their surroundings. 
 
 Many cases in which the colouring does not 
 at first sight appear to be protective, will on 
 consideration be found to be so. It has, for 
 instance, been objected that sheep are not 
 coloured green ; but every mountaineer knows 
 that sheep could riot have had a colour more 
 adapted to render them inconspicuous, and 
 that it is almost impossible to distinguish them 
 from the rocks which so constantly crop up 
 on hill sides. Even the brilliant blue of the 
 Kingfisher, which in a museum renders it so 
 conspicuous, in its native haunts, on the con- 
 trary, makes it difficult to distinguish from a 
 flash of light upon the water ; and the richly- 
 coloured Woodpecker wears the genuine dress 
 of a Forester the green coat and crimson 
 cap. 
 
 It has been found that some brilliantly 
 coloured and conspicuous animals are either 
 nauseous or poisonous. In these cases the 
 
it ON ANIMAL LIFE 57 
 
 brilliant colour is doubtless a protection by 
 rendering them more unmistakable. 
 
 COMMUNITIES 
 
 Some animals may delight us especially by 
 their beauty, such as birds or butterflies ; 
 others may surprise us by their size, as Ele- 
 phants and Whales, or the still more marvel- 
 lous monsters of ancient times ; may fascinate 
 us by their exquisite forms, such as many micro- 
 scopic shells ; or compel our reluctant attention 
 by their similarity to us in structure ; but none 
 offer more points of interest than those which 
 live in communities. I do not allude to the 
 temporary assemblages of Starlings, Swallows, 
 and other birds at certain times of year, nor 
 even to the permanent associations of animals 
 brought together by common wants in suitable 
 localities, but to regular and more or less or- 
 ganised associations. Such colonies as those 
 of Rooks and Beavers have no doubt interest- 
 ing revelations and surprises in store for us, 
 but they have not been as yet so much studied 
 
58 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 as those of some insects. Among these the 
 Hive Bees, from the beauty and regularity 
 of their cells, from their utility to man, and 
 from the debt we owe them for their uncon- 
 scious agency in the improvement of flowers, 
 hold a very high place; but they are prob- 
 ably less intelligent, and their relations with 
 other animals and with one another are less 
 complex than in the case of Ants, which have 
 been so well studied by Gould, Huber, Forel, 
 M'Cook, and other naturalists. 
 
 The subject is a wide one, for there are at 
 least a thousand species of Ants, no two of 
 which have the same habits. In this country 
 we have rather more than thirty, most of 
 which I have kept in confinement. Their life 
 is comparatively long : I have had working 
 Ants which were seven years old, and a Queen 
 Ant lived in one of my nests for fifteen years. 
 The community consists, in addition to the 
 young, of males, which do no work, of wingless 
 workers, and one or more Queen mothers, who 
 have at first wings, which, however, after one 
 Marriage flight, they throw off, as they never 
 leave the nest again, and in it wings would of 
 
n ON ANIMAL LIFE 59 
 
 course be useless. The workers do not, except 
 occasionally, lay eggs, but carry on all the af- 
 fairs of the community. Some of them, and 
 especially the younger ones, remain in the 
 nest, excavate chambers and tunnels, and tend 
 the young, which are sorted up according to 
 age, so that my nests often had the appear- 
 ance of a school, with the children arranged 
 in classes. 
 
 In our English Ants the workers in each 
 species are all similar except in size, but 
 among foreign species there are some in which 
 there are two or even more classes of workers, 
 differing greatly not only in size, but also in 
 form. The differences are not the result of 
 age, nor of race, but are adaptations to 
 different functions, the nature of which, 
 however, is not yet well understood. Among 
 the Termites those of one class certainly seem 
 to act as soldiers, and among the true Ants 
 also some have comparatively immense heads 
 and powerful jaws. It is doubtful, however, 
 whether they form a real army. Bates 
 observed that on a foraging expedition the 
 large-headed individuals did not walk in the 
 
60 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 regular ranks, nor on the return did they 
 carry any of the booty, but marched along at 
 the side, and at tolerably regular intervals, 
 " like subaltern officers in a marching regi- 
 ment." He is disposed, however, to ascribe 
 to them a much humbler function, namely, 
 to serve merely " as indigestible morsels to 
 the ant thrushes." This, I confess, seems to 
 me improbable. 
 
 Solomon was, so far as we yet know, quite 
 correct in describing Ants as having " neither 
 guide, overseer, nor ruler." The so-called 
 Queens are really Mothers. Nevertheless it 
 is true, and it is curious, that the working 
 Ants and Bees always turn their heads 
 towards the Queen. It seems as if the sight 
 of her gave them pleasure. On one occasion, 
 while moving some Ants from one nest into 
 another for exhibition at the Royal Institution, 
 I unfortunately crushed the Queen and killed 
 her. The others, however, did not desert her, 
 or draw her out as they do dead workers, but 
 on the contrary carried her into the new nest, 
 and subsequently into a larger one with which 
 I supplied them, congregating round her for 
 
n ON ANIMAL LIFE 61 
 
 weeks just as if she had been alive. One 
 could hardly help fancying that they were 
 mourning her loss, or hoping anxiously for 
 her recovery. 
 
 The Communities of Ants are sometimes 
 very large, numbering even up to 500,000 
 individuals; and it is a lesson to us, that no 
 one has ever yet seen a quarrel between any 
 two Ants belonging to the same community. 
 On the other hand it must be admitted that 
 they are in hostility, not only with most other 
 insects, including Ants of different species, 
 but even with those of the same species if 
 belonging to different communities. I have 
 over and over again introduced Ants from 
 one of my nests into another nest of the same 
 species, and they were invariably attacked, 
 seized by a leg or an antenna, and dragged 
 out. 
 
 It is evident therefore that the Ants of 
 each community all recognise one another, 
 which is very remarkable. But more than 
 this, I several times divided a nest into two 
 halves, and found that even after a separation 
 of a year and nine months they recognised 
 
62 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 one another, and were perfectly friendly; 
 while they at once attacked Ants from a 
 different nest, although of the same species. 
 
 It has been suggested that the Ants of each 
 nest have some sign or password by which 
 they recognise one another. To test this I 
 made some insensible. First I tried chloro- 
 form, but this was fatal to them ; and as 
 therefore they were practically dead, I did 
 not consider the test satisfactory. I decided 
 therefore to intoxicate them. This was 
 less easy than I had expected. None of 
 my Ants would voluntarily degrade them- 
 selves by getting drunk. However, I got 
 over the difficulty by putting them into 
 whisky for a few moments. I took fifty 
 specimens, twenty-five from one nest and 
 twenty-five from another, made them dead 
 drunk, marked each with a spot of paint, and 
 put them on a table close to where other Ants 
 from one of the nests were feeding. The 
 table was surrounded as usual with a moat of 
 water to prevent them from straying. The 
 Ants which were feeding soon noticed those 
 which I had made drunk. They seemed quite 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 63 
 
 astonished to find their comrades in such a 
 disgraceful condition, and as much at a loss 
 to know what to do with their drunkards as 
 we are. After a while, however, to cut my 
 story short, they carried them all away : the 
 strangers they took to the edge of the moat 
 and dropped into the water, while they bore 
 their friends home into the nest, where by 
 degrees they slept off the effects of the spirit. 
 Thus it is evident that they know their friends 
 even when incapable of giving any sign or 
 password. 
 
 This little experiment also shows that they 
 help comrades in distress. If a Wolf or a Rook 
 be ill or injured, we are told that it is driven 
 away or even killed by its comrades. Not so 
 with Ants. For instance, in one of my nests 
 an unfortunate Ant, in emerging from the 
 chrysalis skin, injured her legs so much that 
 she lay on her back quite helpless. For three 
 months, however, she was carefully fed and 
 tended by the other Ants. In another case 
 an Ant in the same manner had injured her 
 antennae. I watched her also carefully to see 
 what would happen. For some days she did 
 
64 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 not leave the nest. At last one day she 
 ventured outside, and after a while met a 
 stranger Ant of the same species, but be- 
 longing to another nest, by whom she was 
 at once attacked. I tried to separate them, 
 but whether by her enemy, or perhaps by my 
 well-meant but clumsy kindness, she was 
 evidently much hurt and lay helplessly on her 
 side. Several other Ants passed her without 
 taking any notice, but soon one came up, 
 examined her carefully with her antennae, and 
 carried her off tenderly to the nest. No one, 
 I think, who saw it could have denied to that 
 Ant one attribute of humanity, the quality of 
 kindness. 
 
 The existence of such communities as those 
 of Ants or Bees implies, no doubt, some power 
 of communication, but the amount is still a 
 matter of doubt. It is well known that if one 
 Bee or Ant discovers a store of food, others 
 soon find their way to it. This, however, 
 does not prove much. It makes all the 
 difference whether they are brought or sent. 
 If they merely accompany on her return a 
 companion who has brought a store of food, 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 65 
 
 it does not imply much. To test this, there- 
 fore, I made several experiments. For in- 
 stance, one cold day my Ants were almost all 
 in their nests. One only was out hunting 
 and about six feet from home. I took a dead 
 bluebottle fly, pinned it on to a piece of cork, 
 and put it down just in front of her. She at 
 once tried to carry off the fly, but to her sur- 
 prise found it immovable. She tugged and 
 tugged, first one way and then another for 
 about twenty minutes, and then went straight 
 off to the nest. During that time not a single 
 Ant had come out ; in fact she was the only 
 Ant of that nest out at the time. She went 
 straight in, but in a few seconds less than 
 half a minute, came out again with no less 
 than twelve friends, who trooped off with her, 
 and eventually tore up the dead fly, carrying 
 it off in triumph. 
 
 Now the first Ant took nothing home with 
 her ; she must therefore somehow have made 
 her friends understand that she had found 
 some food, and wanted them to come and help 
 her to secure it. In all such cases, however, 
 so far as my experience goes, the Ants brought 
 
66 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 their friends, and some of my experiments 
 indicated that they are unable to send them. 
 
 Certain species of Ants, again, make slaves 
 of others, as Huber first observed. If a col- 
 ony of the slave-making Ants is changing the 
 nest, a matter which is left to the discretion of 
 the slaves, the latter carry their mistresses to 
 their new home. Again, if I uncovered one 
 of my nests of the Fuscous Ant (Formica 
 fusca), they all began running about in search 
 of some place of refuge. If now I covered over 
 one small part of the nest, after a while some 
 Ant discovered it. In such a case, however, the 
 brave little insect never remained there, she 
 came out in search of her friends, and the 
 first one she met she took up in her jaws, 
 threw over her shoulder (their way of carry- 
 ing friends), and took into the covered part ; 
 then both came out again, found two more 
 friends and brought them in, the same ma- 
 noeuvre being repeated until the whole commu- 
 nity was in a place of safety. This I think 
 says much for their public spirit, but seems to 
 prove that, in F. fusca at least, the powers of 
 communication are but limited. 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE 67 
 
 One kind of slave-making Ant has be- 
 come so completely dependent on their slaves, 
 that even if provided with food they will die 
 of hunger, unless there is a slave to put it 
 into their mouth. I found, however, that 
 they would thrive very well if supplied with 
 a slave for an hour or so once a week to clean 
 and feed them. 
 
 But in many cases the community does not 
 consist of Ants only. They have domestic 
 animals, and indeed it is not going too far to 
 say that they have domesticated more animals 
 than we have. Of these the most important 
 are Aphides. Some species keep Aphides on 
 trees and bushes, others collect root-feeding 
 Aphides into their nests. They serve as cows 
 to the Ants, which feed on the honey-dew 
 secreted by the Aphides. Not only, more- 
 over, do the Ants protect the Aphides them- 
 selves, but collect their eggs in autumn, 
 and tend them carefully through the winter, 
 ready for the next spring. Many other insects 
 are also domesticated by Ants, and some of 
 them, from living constantly underground, 
 
68 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 have completely lost their eyes and become 
 quite blind. 
 
 But I must not let myself be carried away 
 by this fascinating subject, which I have 
 treated more at length in another work. 1 I 
 will only say that though their intelligence 
 is no doubt limited, still I do not think that 
 any one who has studied the life-history of 
 Ants can draw any fundamental line of sep- 
 aration between instinct and reason. 
 
 When we see a community of Ants work- 
 ing together in perfect harmony, it is impos- 
 sible not to ask ourselves how far they are 
 mere exquisite automatons ; how far they are 
 conscious beings ? When we watch an 
 ant-hill tenanted by thousands of industrious 
 inhabitants, excavating chambers, forming 
 tunnels, making roads, guarding their home, 
 gathering food, feeding the young, tending 
 their domestic animals each one fulfilling 
 its duties industriously, and without con- 
 fusion, it is difficult altogether to deny 
 to them the gift of reason ; and all our 
 
 1 Ants, Bees, and Wasps. 
 
ii ON ANIMAL LIFE . 69 
 
 recent observations tend to confirm the 
 opinion that their mental powers differ 
 from those of men, not so much in kind 
 as in degree. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE continued 
 
An organic being is a microcosm a little universe, 
 formed of a host of self-propagating organisms, inconceiv- 
 ably minute and numerous as the stars of heaven. 
 
 DARWIN. 
 
CHAPTER TIT 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE continued. 
 
 WE constantly speak of animals as free. A 
 fish, says Ruskin, " is much freer than a Man ; 
 and as to a fly, it is a black incarnation of 
 freedom." It is pleasant to think of anything 
 as free, but in this case the idea is, I fear, to 
 a great extent erroneous. Young animals may 
 frolic and play, but older ones take life very 
 seriously. About the habits of fish and flies, 
 indeed, as yet we know very little. Any one, 
 however, who will watch animals will soon 
 satisfy himself how diligently they work. 
 Even when they seem to be idling over flowers, 
 or wandering aimlessly about, they are in truth 
 diligently seeking for food, or collecting 
 materials for nests. The industry of Bees is 
 proverbial. When collecting honey or pollen 
 
 73 
 
74 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 they often visit over twenty flowers in a 
 minute, keeping constantly to one species, 
 without yielding a moment's dalliance to any 
 more sweet or lovely tempter. Ants fully 
 deserve the commendation of Solomon. 
 Wasps have not the same reputation for in- 
 dustry ; but I have watched them from before 
 four in the morning till dark at night work- 
 ing like animated machines without a mo- 
 ment's rest or intermission. Sundays and 
 Bank Holidays are all the same to them. 
 Again, Birds have their own gardens and 
 farms from which they do not wander, and 
 within which they will tolerate no interfer- 
 ence. Their ideas of the rights of property 
 are far stricter than those of some statesmen. 
 As to freedom, they have their daily duties as 
 much as a mechanic in a mill or a clerk in an 
 office. They suffer under alarms, moreover, 
 from which we are happily free. Mr. Galton 
 believes that the life of wild animals is very 
 anxious. " From my own recollection," he 
 says, "I believe that every antelope in South 
 Africa has to run for its life every one or two 
 days upon an average, and that he starts or 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 75 
 
 gallops under the influence of a false alarm 
 many times in a day. Those who have 
 crouched at night by the side of pools in the 
 desert, in order to have a shot at the beasts 
 that frequent it, see strange scenes of animal 
 life ; how the creatures gambol at one moment 
 and fight at another ; how a herd suddenly 
 halts in strained attention, and then breaks 
 into a maddened rush as one of them becomes 
 conscious of the stealthy movements or rank 
 scent of a beast of prey. Now this hourly life- 
 and-death excitement is a keen delight to 
 most wild creatures, but must be peculiarly 
 distracting to the comfort-loving temperament 
 of others. The latter are alone suited to 
 endure the crass habits and dull routine of 
 domesticated life. Suppose that an animal 
 which has been captured and half-tamed, 
 received ill-usage from his captors, either as 
 punishment or through mere brutality, and 
 that he rushed indignantly into the forest 
 with his ribs aching from blows and stones. 
 If a comfort-loving animal, he will probably 
 be no gainer by the change, more serious 
 alarms and no less ill-usage awaits him : he 
 
76 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 hears the roar of the wild beasts, and the 
 headlong gallop of the frightened herds, and 
 he finds the buttings and the kicks of other 
 animals harder to endure than the blows from 
 which he fled : he has peculiar disadvantages 
 from being a stranger ; the herds of his own 
 species which he seeks for companionship con- 
 stitute so many cliques, into which he can 
 only find admission by more fighting with 
 their strongest members than he has spirit to 
 undergo. As a set-off against these miseries, 
 the freedom of savage life has no charms for 
 his temperament ; so the end of it is, that 
 with a heavy heart he turns back to the 
 habitation he had quitted." 
 
 But though animals may not be free, I 
 hope and believe that they are happy. Dr. 
 Hudson, an admirable observer, assures us 
 with confidence that the struggle for exist- 
 ence leaves them much leisure and famous 
 spirits. " In the animal world," he exclaims, 1 
 " what happiness reigns ! What ease, grace, 
 beauty, leisure, and content ! Watch these 
 living specks as they glide through their 
 
 1 Address to Microscopical Society, 1890. 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 77 
 
 forests of algae, all ' without hurry and care/ 
 as if their ' span - long lives ' really could 
 endure for the thousand years that the old 
 catch pines for. Here is no greedy jostling 
 at the banquet that nature has spread for 
 them ; no dread of each other ; but a leisurely 
 inspection of the field, that shows neither the 
 pressure of hunger nor the dread of an 
 enemy. 
 
 " ' To labour and to be content ' (that < sweet 
 life ' of the son of Sirach) to be equally ready 
 for an enemy or a friend to trust in them- 
 selves alone, to show a brave unconcern for the 
 morrow, all these are the admirable points of 
 a character almost universal among animals, 
 and one that would lighten many a heart 
 were it more common among men. That 
 character is the direct result of the golden 
 law ' If one will not work, neither let him 
 eat ' ; a law whose stern kindness, unflinch- 
 ingly applied, has produced whole nations of 
 living creatures, without a pauper in their 
 ranks, flushed with health, alert, resolute, 
 self-reliant, and singularly happy." 
 
 It has often been said that Man is the only 
 
78 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 animal gifted with the power of enjoying a 
 joke, but if animals do not laugh, at any 
 rate they sometimes play. We are, indeed, 
 apt perhaps to credit them with too much 
 of our own attributes and emotions, but we 
 can hardly be mistaken in supposing that 
 they enjoy certain scents and sounds. It is 
 difficult to separate the games of kittens 
 and lambs from those of children. Our 
 countryman Gould long ago described the 
 " amusements or sportive exercises " which 
 he had observed among Ants. Forel was at 
 first incredulous, but finally confirmed these 
 statements ; and, speaking of certain tropical 
 Ants, Bates says " the conclusion that they 
 were engaged in play was irresistible." 
 
 SLEEP 
 
 We share with other animals the great 
 blessing of Sleep, nature's soft nurse, " the 
 mantle that covers thought, the food that 
 appeases hunger, the drink that quenches 
 thirst, the fire that warms cold, the cold that 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 79 
 
 moderates heat, the coin that purchases all 
 things, the balance and weight that equals the 
 shepherd with the king, and the simple with 
 the wise." Some animals dream as we do ; 
 Dogs, for instance, evidently dream of the 
 chase. With the lower animals which cannot 
 shut their eyes it is, however, more difficult 
 to make sure whether they are awake or 
 asleep. I have often noticed insects at night, 
 even when it was warm and light, behave 
 just as if they were asleep, and take no notice 
 of objects which would certainly have startled 
 them in the day. The same thing has also 
 been observed in the case of fish. 
 
 But why should we sleep ? What a remark- 
 able thing it is that one-third of our life should 
 be passed in unconsciousness. "Half of our 
 days," says Sir T. Browne, " we pass in the 
 shadow of the earth, and the brother of death 
 extracteth a third part of our lives." The 
 obvious suggestion is that we require rest. 
 But this does not fully meet the case. In 
 sleep the mind is still awake, and lives a life 
 of its own : our thoughts wander, uncon- 
 trolled, by the will. The mind, therefore, is 
 
80 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 not necessarily itself at rest ; and yet we all 
 know how it is refreshed by sleep. 
 
 But though animals sleep, many of them 
 are nocturnal in their habits. Humboldt gives 
 a vivid description of night in a Brazilian 
 forest. 
 
 " Everything passed tranquilly till eleven 
 at night, and then a noise so terrible arose in 
 the neighbouring forest that it was almost 
 impossible to close our eyes. Amid the cries 
 of so many wild beasts howling at once the 
 Indians discriminated such only as were (at 
 intervals) heard separately. These were the 
 little soft cries of the sapajous, the moans of 
 the alouate apes, the howlings of the jaguar 
 and couguar, the peccary and the sloth, and 
 the cries of (many) birds. When the jaguars 
 approached the skirt of the forest our dog, 
 which till then had never ceased barking, 
 began to howl and seek for shelter beneath our 
 hammocks. Sometimes, after a long silence, 
 the cry of the tiger came from the tops of the 
 trees ; and then it was followed by the sharp 
 and long whistling of the monkeys, which 
 appeared to nee from the danger which 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 81 
 
 threatened them. We heard the same noises 
 repeated during the course of whole months 
 whenever the forest approached the bed of the 
 river. 
 
 " When the natives are interrogated on the 
 causes of the tremendous noise made by 
 the beasts of the forest at certain hours of 
 the night, the answer is, they are keeping the 
 feast of the full moon. I believe this agita- 
 tion is most frequently the effect of some con- 
 flict that has arisen in the depths of the 
 forest. The jaguars, for instance, pursue the 
 peccaries and the tapirs, which, having no 
 defence, flee in close troops, and break down 
 the bushes they find in their way. Terrified 
 at this struggle, the timid and distrustful 
 monkeys answer, from the tops of the trees, 
 the cries of the large animals. They awaken 
 the birds that live in society, and by degrees 
 the whole assembly is in commotion. It is 
 not always in a fine moonlight, but more par- 
 ticularly at the time of a storm of violent 
 showers, that this tumult takes place among 
 the wild beasts. ' May heaven grant them a 
 quiet night and repose, and us also ! ' said the 
 
82 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 monk who accompanied us to the Rio Negro, 
 when, sinking with fatigue, he assisted in 
 arranging our accommodation for the night." 
 
 Life is indeed among animals a struggle for 
 existence, and in addition to the more usual 
 weapons teeth and claws we find in some 
 animals special and peculiar means of offence 
 and defence. 
 
 If we had not been so familiarised with the 
 fact, the possession of poison might well seem 
 a wonderful gift. That a fluid, harmless in 
 one animal itself, should yet prove so deadly 
 when transferred to others, is certainly very 
 remarkable ; and though the venom of the 
 Cobra or the Rattlesnake appeal perhaps more 
 effectively to our imagination, we have con- 
 clusive evidence of concentrated poison even 
 in the bite of a midge, which may remain for 
 days perceptible. The sting of a Bee or Wasp, 
 though somewhat similar in its effect, is a 
 totally different organ, being a modified ovi- 
 positor. Some species of Ants do not sting 
 in the ordinary sense, but eject their acrid 
 poison to a distance of several inches. 
 
 Another very remarkable weapon is the 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 83 
 
 electric battery of certain Eels, of the Electric 
 Cat Fish, and the Torpedoes, one of which is 
 said to be able to discharge an amount of 
 electricity sufficient to kill a Man. 
 
 Some of the Medusae and other Zoophytes 
 are armed by millions of minute organs 
 known as " thread cells." Each consists of a 
 cell, within which a firm, elastic thread is 
 tightly coiled. The moment the Medusa 
 touches its prey the cells burst and the 
 threads spring out. Entering the flesh as 
 they do by myriads, they prove very effective 
 weapons. 
 
 The ink of the Sepia has passed into a proverb. 
 The animal possesses a store of dark fluid, 
 which, if attacked, it at once ejects, and thus 
 escapes under cover of the cloud thus created. 
 
 The so-called Bombardier Beetles, when at- 
 tacked, discharge at the enemy, from the 
 hinder part of their body, an acrid fluid which, 
 as soon as it comes in contact with air, ex- 
 plodes with a sound resembling a miniature 
 gun. Westwood mentions, on the authority 
 of Burchell, that on one occasion, "whilst 
 resting for the night on the banks of one of 
 
84 THE BEAUTIES 'OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 the large South American rivers, he went out 
 with a lantern to make an astronomical obser- 
 vation, accompanied by one of his black ser- 
 vant boys ; and as they were proceeding, 
 their attention was directed to numerous 
 beetles running about upon the shore, which, 
 when captured, proved to be specimens of a 
 large species of Brachinus. On being seized 
 they immediately began to play off their artil- 
 lery, burning and staining the flesh to such a 
 degree that only a few specimens could be 
 captured with the naked hand, and leaving a 
 mark which remained a considerable time. 
 Upon observing the whitish vapour with 
 which the explosions were accompanied, the 
 negro exclaimed in his broken English, with evi- 
 dent surprise, ' Ah, massa, they make smoke!' ' 
 Many other remarkable illustrations might 
 be quoted; as for instance the web of the 
 Spider, the pit of the Ant Lion, the mephitic 
 odour of the Skunk. 
 
 SENSES 
 
 We generally attribute to animals five 
 senses more or less resembling our own. But 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 85 
 
 even as regards our own senses we really 
 know or understand very little. Take the 
 question of colour. The rainbow is commonly 
 said to consist of seven colours red, orange, 
 yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. 
 
 But it is now known that all our colour 
 sensations are mixtures of three simple col- 
 ours, red, green, and violet. We are, how- 
 ever, absolutely ignorant how we perceive 
 these colours. Thomas Young suggested 
 that we have three different systems of nerve 
 fibres, and Helmholtz regards this as " a not 
 improbable supposition"; but so far as mi- 
 croscopical examination is concerned, there is 
 no evidence whatever for it. 
 
 Or take again the sense of Hearing. The 
 vibrations of the air no doubt play upon the 
 drum of the ear, and the waves thus produced 
 are conducted through a complex chain of 
 small bones to the fenestra ovalis and so to 
 the inner ear or labyrinth. But beyond this 
 all is uncertainty. The labyrinth consists 
 mainly of two parts (1) the cochlea, and (2) 
 the semicircular canals, which are three in 
 number, standing at right angles to one 
 
86 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 another. It has been supposed that they 
 enable us to maintain the equilibrium of the 
 body, but no satisfactory explanation of their 
 function has yet been given. In the cochlea, 
 Corti discovered a remarkable organ consist- 
 ing of some four thousand complex arches, 
 which increase regularly in length and dimin- 
 ish in height. They are connected at one end 
 with the fibres of the auditory nerve, and 
 Helmholtz has suggested that the waves of 
 sound play on them, like the fingers of a per- 
 former on the keys of a piano, each separate 
 arch corresponding to a different sound. We 
 thus obtain a glimpse, though but a glimpse, 
 of the manner in which perhaps we hear ; but 
 when we pass on to the senses of smell and 
 taste, all we know is that the extreme nerve 
 fibres terminate in certain cells which differ 
 in form from those of the general surface ; 
 but in what manner the innumerable differ- 
 ences of taste or smell are communicated to 
 the brain, we are absolutely ignorant. 
 
 If then v;o know so little about ourselves, 
 no wonder that with reference to other ani- 
 mals our ignorance is extreme. 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 87 
 
 We are too apt to suppose that the senses 
 of animals must closely resemble, and be con- 
 fined to ours. 
 
 No one can doubt that the sensations of 
 other animals differ in many ways from ours. 
 Their organs are sometimes constructed on 
 different principles, and situated in very un- 
 expected places. There are animals which 
 have eyes on their backs, ears in their legs, 
 and sing through their sides. 
 
 We all know that the senses of animals are 
 in many cases much more acute than ours, as 
 for instance the power of scent in the dog, of 
 sight in the eagle. Moreover, our eye is 
 much more sensitive to some colours than to 
 others ; least so to crimson, then successively 
 to red, orange, yellow, blue, and green ; the 
 sensitiveness for green being as much as 750 
 times as great as for red. This alone may 
 make objects appear of very different colours 
 to different animals. 
 
 Nor is the difference one of degree merely. 
 The rainbow, as we see it, consists of seven 
 colours red, orange, yellow, green, blue, 
 indigo, and violet. But though the red and 
 
88 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 violet are the limits of the visible spectrum, 
 they are not the limits of the spectrum itself, 
 there are rays, though invisible to us, beyond 
 the red at the one end, and beyond the violet 
 at the other : the existence of the ultra red 
 can be demonstrated by the thermometer ; 
 while the ultra violet are capable of taking 
 a photograph. But though the red and violet 
 are respectively the limits of our vision, I 
 have shown * by experiments which have been 
 repeated and confirmed by other naturalists, 
 that some of the lower animals are capable 
 of perceiving the ultra-violet rays, which to 
 us are invisible. It is an interesting question 
 whether these rays may not produce on them 
 the impression of a new colour, or colours, 
 differing from any of those known to us. 
 
 So again with hearing, not only may 
 animals in some cases hear better than we 
 do, but sounds which are beyond the reach 
 of our ears, may be audible to theirs. Even 
 among ourselves the power of hearing shrill 
 sounds is greater in some persons than in 
 others. Sound, as we know, is produced by 
 
 1 Ants, Sees, and Wasps, and The Senses of Animals. 
 
m ON ANIMAL LIFE 89 
 
 vibration of the air striking on the drum of 
 the ear, and the fewer are the vibrations in 
 a second, the deeper is the sound, which 
 becomes shriller and shriller as the waves of 
 sound become more rapid. In human ears 
 the limits of hearing are reached when about 
 35,000 vibrations strike the drum of the ear 
 in a second. 
 
 Whatever the explanation of the gift of 
 hearing in ourselves may be, different plans 
 seem to be adopted in the case of other 
 animals. In many Crustacea and Insects 
 there are flattened hairs each connected with 
 a nerve fibre, and so constituted as to vibrate 
 in response to particular notes. In others 
 the ear cavity contains certain minute solid 
 bodies, known as otoliths, which in the same 
 way play upon the nerve fibres. Sometimes 
 these are secreted by the walls of the cavity 
 itself, but certain Crustacea have acquired the 
 remarkable habit of selecting after each 
 moult suitable particles of sand, which they 
 pick up with their pincers and insert into 
 their ears. 
 
 Many insects, besides the two large 
 
90 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 " compound" eyes one on each side of the 
 head, have between them three small ones, 
 known as the " ocelli," arranged in a triangle. 
 The structure of these two sets of eyes is 
 quite different. The ocelli appear to see as our 
 eyes do. The lens throws an inverted image 
 on the back of the eye, so that with these 
 eyes they must see everything reversed, as we 
 ourselves really do, though long practice 
 enables us to correct the impression. On the 
 other hand, the compound eyes consist of a 
 number of facets, in some species as many as 
 20,000 in each eye, and the prevailing 
 impression among entomologists now is that 
 each facet receives the impression of one 
 pencil of rays, that in fact the image 
 formed in a compound eye is a sort of 
 mosaic. In that case, vision by means of 
 these eyes must be direct ; and it is indeed 
 difficult to understand how an insect can 
 obtain a correct impression when it looks at 
 the world with five eyes, three of which see 
 everything reversed, while the other two see 
 things the right way up ! 
 
 On the other hand, some regard each 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 91 
 
 facet as an independent eye, in which case 
 many insects realise the epigram of Plato 
 
 Thou lookest on. the stars, my love, 
 
 Ah, would that I could be 
 Yon starry skies with thousand eyes, 
 
 That I might look on thee ! 
 
 Even so, therefore, we only substitute one 
 difficulty for another. 
 
 But this is not all. We have not only no 
 proof that animals are confined to our five 
 senses, but there are strong reasons for believ- 
 ing that this is not the case. 
 
 In the first place, many animals have 
 organs which from their position, structure, 
 and rich supply of nerves, are evidently 
 organs of sense ; and yet which do not 
 appear to be adapted to any one of our five 
 senses. 
 
 As already mentioned, the limits of hearing 
 are reached when about 35,000 vibrations 
 of the air strike on the drums of our ears. 
 Light, as was first conclusively demonstrated 
 by our great countryman Young, is the im- 
 pression produced by vibration of the ether 
 
92 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 on the retina of the eye. When 700 millions 
 of millions of vibrations strike the eye in a 
 second, we see violet ; and the colour changes 
 as the number diminishes, 400 millions of 
 millions giving us the impression of red. 
 
 Between 35 thousand and 400 millions of 
 millions the interval is immense, and it is 
 obvious that there might be any number of 
 sensations. When we consider how greatly 
 animals differ from us, alike in habits and 
 structure, is it not possible, nay, more, is it 
 not likely that some of these problematical 
 organs are the seats of senses unknown to us, 
 and give rise to sensations of which we have 
 no conception ? 
 
 In addition to the capacity for receiving 
 and perceiving, some animals have the faculty 
 of emitting light. In our country the glow- 
 worm is the most familiar case, though some 
 other insects and worms have, at any rate 
 under certain conditions, the same power, and 
 it is possible that many others are really lumi- 
 nous, though with light which is invisible to 
 us. In warmer climates the Fire-fly, Lan- 
 thorn-fly, and many other insects, shine with 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 93 
 
 much greater brilliance, and in these cases the 
 glow seems to be a real love-light, like the 
 lamp of Hero. 
 
 Many small marine animals, Medusae, 
 Crustacea, Worms, etc., are also brilliantly 
 luminous at night. Deep-sea animals are 
 endowed also in many cases with special 
 luminous organs, to which I shall refer 
 again. 
 
 SENSE OF DIRECTION 
 
 It has been supposed that animals possess 
 also what has been called a Sense of Direc- 
 tion. Many interesting cases are on record of 
 animals finding their way home after being 
 taken a considerable distance. To account 
 for this fact it has been suggested that 
 animals possess a sense with which we are 
 not endowed, or of which, at any rate, we 
 possess only a trace. The homing instinct of 
 the pigeon has also been ascribed to the same 
 faculty. My brother Alfred, however, who 
 has paid much attention to pigeons, informs 
 me that they are never taken any great dis- 
 
94 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 tance at once ; but if they are intended to 
 take a long flight, they are trained to do so 
 by stages. 
 
 Darwin suggested that it would be inter- 
 esting to test the case by taking animals in 
 a close box, and then whirling them round 
 rapidly before letting them out. This is in 
 fact done with cats in some parts of France, 
 when the family migrates, and is considered 
 the only way of preventing the cat from re- 
 turning to the old home. Fabre has tried 
 the same thing with some wild Bees (Chali- 
 codoma). He took some, marked them on 
 the back with a spot of white, and put them 
 into a bag. He then carried them a quarter 
 of a mile, stopping at a point where an old 
 cross stands by the wayside, and whirled the 
 bag rapidly round his head. While he was 
 doing so a good woman came by, who seemed 
 not a little surprised to find the Professor sol- 
 emnly whirling a black bag round his head 
 in front of the cross ; and, he fears, suspected 
 him of Satanic practices. He then carried 
 his Bees a mile and a half in the opposite 
 direction and let them go. Three out of 
 
TIT ON ANIMAL LIFE 95 
 
 ten found their way home. He tried the 
 same experiment several times, in one case 
 taking them a little over two miles. On 
 an average about a third of the Bees found 
 their way home. " La demonstration," says 
 Fabre, " est suffisante. Ni les mouvements 
 enchevetres d'une rotation comme je 1'ai de- 
 crite ; ni 1'obstacle de collines a franchir et de 
 bois a traverser ; ni les embuches d'une voie 
 qui s'avance, retrograde, et revient par un 
 ample circuit, ne peuvent troubler les Chalico- 
 domes depayses et les empecher de revenir 
 au nid." 
 
 I must say, however, that I am not 
 convinced. In the first place, the distances 
 were I think too short ; and in the second, 
 though it is true that some of the Bees found 
 their way home, nearly two-thirds failed to 
 do so. It would be interesting to try the 
 experiment again, taking the Bees say five 
 miles. If they really possess any such sense, 
 that distance would be no bar to their return. 
 I have myself experimented with Ants, taking 
 them about fifty yards from the nest, and I 
 always found that they wandered aimlessly 
 
96 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 about, having evidently not the slightest idea 
 of their way home. They certainly did not 
 appear to possess any " sense of direction." 
 
 NUMBER OF SPECIES 
 
 The total number of species may probably 
 be safely estimated as at least 2,000,000, of 
 which but a fraction have yet been described 
 or named. Of extinct species the number 
 was probably at least as great. In the 
 geological history of the earth there have 
 been at least twelve periods, in each of which 
 by far the greatest number were distinct. The 
 Ancient Poets described certain gifted mortals 
 as having been privileged to descend into the 
 interior of the earth, and exercised their 
 imagination in recounting the wonders thus 
 revealed. As in other cases, however, the 
 realities of Science have proved far more 
 varied and surprising than the dreams of 
 fiction. Of these extinct species our knowl- 
 edge is even more incomplete than that of 
 the existing species. But even of our con tern- 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 97 
 
 poraries it is not too much to say that, as in 
 the case of plants, there is not one the structure, 
 habits, and life-history of which are yet fully 
 known to us. The male of the Cynips, which 
 produces the common King Charles Oak 
 Apple, has only recently been discovered, 
 those of the root-feeding Aphides, which live 
 in hundreds in every nest of the yellow 
 Meadow Ant (Lasius flavus) are still un- 
 known ; the habits and mode of reproduction 
 of the common Eel have only just been dis- 
 covered ; and we may even say generally that 
 many of the most interesting recent discover- 
 ies have relation to the commonest and most 
 familiar animals. 
 
 IMPORTANCE OF THE SMALLER ANIMALS 
 
 Whatever pre-eminence Man may claim for 
 himself, other animals have done far more to 
 affect the face of nature. The principal 
 agents have not been the larger or more in- 
 telligent, but rather the smaller, and individ- 
 ually less important, species. Beavers may 
 have dammed up many of the rivers of Brit- 
 
 H 
 
98 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 ish Columbia, and turned them into a suc- 
 cession of pools or marshes, but this is a 
 slight matter compared with the action of 
 earthworms and insects 1 in the creation of 
 vegetable soil ; of the accumulation of ani- 
 malcules in filling up harbours and lakes ; 
 or of Zoophytes in the construction of coral 
 islands. 
 
 Microscopic animals make up in number 
 what they lack in size. Paris is built of 
 Infusoria. The Peninsula of Florida, 78,000 
 square miles in extent, is entirely composed of 
 coral debris and fragments of shells. Chalk 
 consists mainly of Foraminifera and fragments 
 of shells deposited in a deep sea. The num- 
 ber of shells required to make up a cubic inch 
 is almost incredible. Ehrenberg has estimated 
 that of the Bilin polishing slate which caps 
 the mountain, and has a thickness of forty 
 feet, a cubic inch contains many hundred 
 million shells of Infusoria. 
 
 In another respect these microscopic organ- 
 
 1 Prof. Drummond ( Tropical Africa) dwells with great force 
 on the manner in which the soil of Central Africa is worked up 
 by the White Ants. 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 99 
 
 isms are of vital importance. Many diseases 
 are now known, and others suspected, to be 
 entirely due to Bacteria and other minute 
 forms of life (Microbes), which multiply in- 
 credibly, and either destroy their victims, or 
 after a while diminish again in numbers. We 
 live indeed in a cloud of Bacteria. At the 
 observatory of Montsouris at Paris it has 
 been calculated that there are about 80 in 
 each cubic meter of air. Elsewhere, however, 
 they are much more numerous. Pasteur's re- 
 searches on the Silkworm disease led him to 
 the discovery of Bacterium anthracis, the 
 cause of splenic fever. Microbes are present 
 in persons suffering from cholera, typhus, 
 whooping-cough, measles, hydrophobia, etc., 
 but as to their history and connection with 
 disease we have yet much to learn. It is 
 fortunate, indeed, that they do not all at- 
 tack us. 
 
 In surgical cases, again, the danger of com- 
 pound fractures and mortification of wounds 
 has been found to be mainly due to the pres- 
 ence of microscopic organisms ; and Lister, by 
 his antiseptic treatment which destroys these 
 
100 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 germs or prevents their access, has greatly 
 diminished the danger of operations, and the 
 sufferings of recovery. 
 
 SIZE OF ANIMALS 
 
 In the size of animals we find every grada- 
 tion from these atoms which even in the most 
 powerful microscopes appear as mere points, 
 up to the gigantic reptiles of past ages and 
 the Whales of our present ocean. The horned 
 Ray or Skate is 25 feet in length, by 30 in 
 width. The Cuttle-fishes of our seas, though 
 so hideous as to resemble a bad dream, are too 
 small to be formidable ; but off the Newfound- 
 land coast is a species with arms sometimes 
 30 feet long, so as to be 60 feet from tip to 
 tip. The body, however, is small in propor- 
 tion. The Giraffe attains a height of over 
 20 feet ; the Elephant, though not so tall, is 
 more bulky ; the Crocodile reaches a length 
 of over 20 feet, the Python of 60 feet, the 
 extinct Titanosaurus of the American Jurassic 
 beds, the largest land animal yet known to us, 
 100 feet in length and 30 in height; the 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 101 
 
 Whalebone Whale over 70 feet, Sibbald's 
 Whale is said to have reached 80-90, which 
 is perhaps the limit. Captain Scoresby in- 
 deed mentions a Rorqual no less than 120 
 feet in length, but this is probably too great 
 an estimate. 
 
 COMPLEXITY OF ANIMAL STRUCTURE 
 
 The complexity of animal structure is even 
 more marvellous than their mere magnitude. 
 A Caterpillar contains more than 2000 mus- 
 cles. In our own body are some 2,000,000 
 perspiration glands, communicating with the 
 surface by ducts having a total length of some 
 10 miles; while that of the arteries, veins, 
 and capillaries must be very great; the blood 
 contains millions of millions of corpuscles, 
 each no doubt a complex structure in itself ; 
 the rods in the retina, which are supposed to 
 be the ultimate recipient of light, are esti- 
 mated at 30,000,000 ; and Meinert has calcu- 
 lated that the gray matter of the brain is 
 built up of at least 600,000,000 cells. No 
 
102 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 verbal description, however, can do justice to 
 the marvellous complexity of animal structure, 
 which the microscope alone, and even that but 
 faintly, can enable us to realise. 
 
 LENGTH OF LIFE 
 
 How little we yet know of the life-history 
 of Animals is illustrated by the vagueness of 
 our information as to the age to which they 
 live. Professor Lankester 1 tells us that "the 
 paucity and uncertainty of observations on 
 this class of facts is extreme." The Rabbit is 
 said to reach 10 years, the Dog and Sheep 10 
 -12, the Pig 20, the Horse 30, the Camel 100, 
 the Elephant 200, the Greenland Whale 400 
 (?) : among Birds, the Parrot to attain 100 
 years,, the Raven even more. The Atur Par- 
 rot mentioned by Humboldt, talked, but could 
 not be understood, because it spoke in the 
 language of an extinct Indian tribe. It is 
 supposed from their rate of growth that among 
 
 1 Lankester, Comparative Longevity. See also Weismann, 
 Duration of Life. 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 103 
 
 Fish the Carp is said to reach 150 years; and 
 a Pike, 19 feet long, and weighing 350 Ibs., 
 is said to have been taken in Suabia in 1497 
 carrying a ring, on which was inscribed, " I 
 am the fish which was first of all put into the 
 lake by the hands of the Governor of the Uni- 
 verse, Frederick the Second, the 5th Oct. 
 1230." This would imply an age of over 267 
 years. Many Reptiles are no doubt very long- 
 lived. A Tortoise is said to have reached 500 
 years. As regards the lower animals, the 
 greatest age on record is that of Sir J. 
 Dalzell's Sea Anemone, which lived for over 
 50 years. Insects are generally short-lived; 
 the Queen Bee, however, is said by Aristotle, 
 whose statement has not been confirmed by 
 recent writers, to live 7 years. I myself 
 had a Queen Ant which attained the age of 
 15 years. 
 
 The May Fly (Ephemera) is celebrated as 
 living only for a day, and has given its name 
 to all things short-lived. The statement 
 usually made is, indeed, very misleading, for 
 in its larval condition the Ephemera lives for 
 weeks. Many writers have expressed surprise 
 
104 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 that in the perfect state its life should be so 
 short. It is, however, so defenceless, and, 
 moreover, so much appreciated by birds and 
 fish, that unless they laid their eggs very 
 rapidly none would perhaps survive to con- 
 tinue the species. 
 
 Many of these estimates are, as will be 
 seen, very vague and doubtful, so that we 
 must still admit with Bacon that, " touching 
 the length and shortness of life in living 
 creatures, the information which may be had 
 is but slender, observation is negligent, and 
 tradition fabulous. In tame creatures their 
 degenerate life corrupteth them, in wild creat- 
 ures their exposing to all weathers often in- 
 tercepteth them." 
 
 ON INDIVIDUALITY 
 
 When we descend still lower in the animal 
 scale, the consideration of this question opens 
 out a very curious and interesting subject 
 connected with animal individuality. As 
 regards the animals with which we are most 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 105 
 
 familiar no such question intrudes. Among 
 quadrupeds and birds, fishes and reptiles, 
 there is no difficulty in deciding whether a 
 given organism is an individual, or a part of 
 an individual. Nor does the difficulty arise 
 in the case of most insects. The Bee or But- 
 terfly lays an egg which develops successively 
 into a larva and pupa, finally producing Bee 
 or Butterfly. In these cases, therefore, the 
 egg, larva, pupa, and perfect Insect, are re- 
 garded as stages in the life of a single indi- 
 vidual. In certain gnats, however, the larva 
 itself produces young larvae, each of which 
 develops into a gnat, so that the egg produces 
 not one gnat but many gnats. 
 
 The difficulty of determining what consti- 
 tutes an individual becomes still greater among 
 the Zoophytes. These beautiful creatures in 
 many cases so closely resemble plants, that 
 until our countryman Ellis proved them to be 
 animals, Crabbe was justified in saying 
 
 Involved in sea wrack here we find a race, 
 Which Science, doubting, knows not where to place ; 
 On shell or stone is dropped the embryo seed, 
 And quickly vegetates a vital breed. 
 
106 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 We cannot wonder that such organisms were 
 long regarded as belonging to the vegetable 
 kingdom. The cups which terminate the 
 branches contain, however, an animal struct- 
 ure, resembling a small Sea Anemone, and 
 possessing arms which capture the food by 
 which the whole colony is nourished. Some 
 of these cups, moreover, differ from the rest, 
 and produce eggs. These then we might 
 be disposed to term ovaries. But in many 
 species they detach themselves from the group 
 and lead an independent existence. Thus we 
 find a complete gradation from structures 
 which, regarded by themselves, we should un- 
 questionably regard as mere organs, to others 
 which are certainly separate and independent 
 beings. 
 
 Fig. 2 represents, after Allman, a colony of 
 Bougainvillea fruticosa of the natural size. 
 It is a British species, which is found growing 
 on buoys, floating timber, etc., and, says 
 Allman, " When in health and vigour, offers 
 a spectacle unsurpassed in interest by any 
 other species every branchlet crowned by 
 its graceful hydranth, and budding with Me- 
 
Ill 
 
 ON ANIMAL LIFE 
 
 107 
 
 dusae in all stages of development (Fig. 3), some 
 still in the condition of minute buds, in which 
 no trace of the definite Medusa-form can yet 
 
 Fig. 2. Bougainvillea fruticosa; natural size. (After Allman.) 
 
 be detected ; others, in which the outlines of 
 the Medusa can be distinctly traced within 
 the transparent ectotheque (external layer) ; 
 others, again, just casting off this thin outer 
 pellicle, and others completely freed from it, 
 struggling with convulsive efforts to break 
 loose from the colony, and finally launched 
 
 
 'TNT 17 BE 
 
 ITT 
 
108 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 forth in the full enjoyment of their freedom 
 into the surrounding water. I know of no 
 
 Fig. 3. Bougainvillea fruticosa; magnified to show development. 
 
 form in which so many of the characteristic 
 features of a typical hydroid are more finely 
 expressed than in this beautiful species." 
 
ill ON ANIMAL LIFE 109 
 
 Fig. 4 represents the Medusa or free form 
 of this beautiful species. 
 
 If we pass to another 
 great group of Zoophytes, 
 that of the Jelly-fishes, 
 we have a very similar 
 case. For our first knowl- 
 edge of the life-history 
 of these Zoophytes we 
 are indebted to the Nor- 
 wegian naturalist Sars. 
 Take, for instance, the 
 common Jelly-fish (Me- 
 
 dusa auHta) (Fig. 5) Of Fig. 4. Bougainvillea 
 
 fruticosa, Medusa-form. 
 
 our shores. 
 
 The egg is a pear-shaped body (/), covered 
 with fine hairs, by the aid of which it swims 
 about, the broader end in front. After a 
 while it attaches itself, not as might have 
 been expected by the posterior but by the 
 anterior extremity (2). The cilia then dis- 
 appear, a mouth is formed at the free end, 
 tentacles, first four (j>), then eight, and at 
 length as many as thirty (^), are formed, and 
 the little creature resembles in essentials the 
 freshwater polyp (Hydra) of our ponds. 
 
110 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 At the same time transverse wrinkles (4) 
 are formed round the body, first near the 
 free extremity and then gradually descend- 
 ing. They become deeper and deeper, and 
 develop lobes or divisions one under the other, 
 
 Fig. 5. Medusa aurita, and progressive stages of development. 
 
 as at 5. After a while the top ring (and 
 subsequently the others one by one) detaches 
 itself, swims away, and gradually develops 
 into a Medusa (6). Thus, then, the life-his- 
 tory is very similar to that of the Hydroids, 
 only that while in the Hydroids the fixed 
 condition is the more permanent, and the free 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 111 
 
 swimming more transitory, in the Medusae, on 
 the contrary, the fixed condition is apparently 
 only a phase in the production of the free 
 swimming animal. In both the one and the 
 other, however, the egg gives rise not to one 
 but to many mature animals. Steenstrup has 
 given to these curious phenomena, many other 
 cases of which occur among the lower animals, 
 and to which he first called attention, the 
 name of alternations of generations. 
 
 In the life-history of Infusoria (so called 
 because they swarm in most animal or vege- 
 table infusions) similar difficulties encounter 
 us. The little creatures, many of which are 
 round or oval in form, from time to time 
 become constricted in the middle ; the con- 
 striction becomes deeper and deeper, and at 
 length the two halves twist themselves apart 
 and swim away. In this case, therefore, there 
 was one, and there are now two exactly sim- 
 ilar ; but are these two individuals ? They 
 are not parent and offspring that is clear, 
 for they are of the same age ; nor are they 
 twins, for there is no parent. As already 
 mentioned, we regard the Caterpillar, Chrys- 
 
112 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 alls, and Butterfly as stages in the life-history 
 of a single individual. But among Zoophytes, 
 and even among some insects, one larva often 
 produces several mature forms. In some 
 species these mature forms remain attached to 
 the larval stock, and we might be disposed to 
 regard the whole as one complex organism. 
 But in others they detach themselves and lead 
 an independent existence. 
 
 These considerations then introduce much 
 difficulty into our conception of the idea of an 
 Individual. 
 
 ANIMAL IMMORTALITY 
 
 But, further than this, we are confronted by 
 by another problem. If we regard a mass of 
 coral as an individual because it arises by 
 continuous growth from a single egg, then it 
 follows that some corals must be thousands of 
 years old. 
 
 Some of the lower animals may be cut into 
 pieces, and each piece will develop into an 
 
in ON ANIMAL LIFE 113 
 
 entire organism. In fact the realisation of 
 the idea of an individual gradually becomes 
 more and more difficult, and the continuity of 
 existence, even among the highest animals, 
 gradually forces itself upon us. I believe 
 that as we become more rational, as we real- 
 ise more fully the conditions of existence, 
 this consideration is likely to have important 
 moral results. 
 
 It is generally considered that death is the 
 common lot of all living beings. But is this 
 necessarily so ? Infusoria and other unicellu- 
 lar animals multiply by division. That is to 
 say, if we watch one for a certain time, we 
 shall observe, as already mentioned, that a 
 constriction takes place, which grows gradu- 
 ally deeper and deeper, until at last the two 
 halves become quite detached, and each 
 swims away independently. The process is 
 repeated over and over again, and in this 
 manner the species is propagated. Here ob- 
 viously there is no birth and no death. Such 
 creatures may be killed, but they have no 
 natural term of life. They are, in fact, theo- 
 
114 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, in 
 
 retically immortal. Those which lived mil- 
 lions of years ago may have gone on dividing 
 and subdividing, and in this sense multitudes 
 of the lower animals are millions of years 
 old. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON PLANT LIFE 
 
Flower in the crannied wall, 
 
 I pluck you out of the crannies, 
 
 I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 
 
 Little flower but if I could understand 
 
 What you are, root and all, and all in all, 
 
 I should know what God and man is. 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON PLANT LIFE 
 
 WE are told that in old days the Fairies 
 used to give presents of Flowers and Leaves to 
 those whom they wished to reward, or whom 
 they loved best ; and though these gifts were, 
 it appears, often received with disappoint- 
 ment, still it will probably be admitted that 
 flowers have contributed more to the happi- 
 ness of our lives than either gold or silver or 
 precious stones"; and that our happiest days 
 have been spent out-of-doors in the woods and 
 fields, when we have 
 
 . . . found in every woodland way 
 The sunlight tint of Fairy Gold. 1 
 
 To many minds Flowers acquired an ad- 
 ditional interest when it was shown that 
 
 1 Thomson. 
 
 117 
 
118 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 there was a reason for their colour, size, and 
 form in fact, for every detail of their organ- 
 isation. If we did but know all that the 
 smallest flower could tell us, we should have 
 solved some of the greatest mysteries of 
 Nature. But we cannot hope to succeed 
 even if we had the genius of Plato or Aris- 
 totle without careful, patient, and rever- 
 ent study. From such an inquiry we may 
 hope much ; already we have glimpses, enough 
 to convince us that the whole history will 
 open out to us conceptions of the Universe 
 wider and grander than any which the Imagi- 
 nation alone would ever have suggested. 
 
 Attempts to explain the forms, colours, and 
 other characteristics of animals and plants 
 are by no means new. Our Teutonic fore- 
 fathers had a pretty story which explained 
 certain points about several common plants. 
 Balder, the God of Mirth and Merriment, was, 
 characteristically enough, regarded as deficient 
 in the possession of immortality. The other 
 divinities, fearing to lose him, petitioned Thor 
 to make him immortal, and the prayer was 
 granted on condition that every animal and 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 119 
 
 plant would swear not to injure him, To 
 secure this object, Nanna, Balder's wife, 
 descended upon the earth. Loki, the God 
 of Envy, followed her, disguised as a crow 
 (which at that time were white), and settled 
 on a little blue flower, hoping to cover it up, 
 so that Nanna might overlook it. The flower, 
 however, cried out "forget-me-not, forget-me- 
 not," and has ever since been known under 
 that name. Loki then flew up into an oak 
 and sat on a mistletoe. Here he was more 
 successful. Nanna carried off the oath of 
 the oak, but overlooked the mistletoe. She 
 thought, however, and the divinities thought, 
 that she had successfully accomplished her 
 mission, and that Balder had received the gift 
 of immortality. 
 
 One day, supposing Balder proof, they 
 amused themselves by shooting at him, post- 
 ing him against a Holly. Loki tipped an 
 arrow with a piece of Mistletoe, against which 
 Balder was not proof, and gave it to Balder's 
 brother. This, unfortunately, pierced him to 
 the heart, and he fell dead. Some drops of 
 his blood spurted on to the Holly, which 
 
120 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 accounts for the redness of the berries ; the 
 Mistletoe was so grieved that she has ever' 
 since borne fruit like tears ; and the crow, 
 whose form Loki had taken, and which till 
 then had been white, was turned black. 
 
 This pretty myth accounts for several things, 
 but is open to fatal objections. 
 
 Recent attempts to explain the facts of 
 Nature are not less fascinating, and, I think, 
 more successful. 
 
 Why then this marvellous variety ? this 
 inexhaustible treasury of beautiful forms ? 
 Does it result from some innate tendency in 
 each species ? Is it intentionally designed to 
 delight the eye of man ? Or has the form 
 and size and texture some reference to the 
 structure and organisation, the habits and 
 requirements of the whole plant ? 
 
 I shall never forget hearing Darwin's paper 
 on the structure of the Cowslip and Primrose, 
 after which even Sir Joseph Hooker compared 
 himself to Peter Bell, to whom 
 
 A primrose by a river's brim 
 A yellow primrose was to him, 
 And it was nothing more. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 121 
 
 We all, I think, shared the same feeling, and 
 found that the explanation of the flower then 
 given, and to which I shall refer again, in- 
 vested it with fresh interest and even with 
 new beauty. 
 
 A regular flower, such, for instance, as a 
 Geranium or a Pink, consists of four or more 
 whorls of leaves, more or less modified : the 
 lowest whorl is the Calyx, and the separate 
 leaves of which it is composed, which however 
 are sometimes united into a tube, are called 
 sepals ; (2) a second whorl, the corolla, con- 
 sisting of coloured leaves called petals, which, 
 however, like those of the Calyx, are often 
 united into a tube ; (3) of one or more sta- 
 mens, consisting of a stalk or filament, and 
 a head or anther, in which the pollen is pro- 
 duced ; and (4) a pistil, which is situated in the 
 centre of the flower, and at the base of which 
 is the Ovary, containing one or more seeds. 
 
 Almost all large flowers are brightly col- 
 oured, many produce honey, and many are 
 sweet-scented. 
 
 What, then, is the use and purpose of this 
 complex organisation ? 
 
122 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 It is, I think, well established that the 
 main object of the colour, scent, and honey of 
 flowers is to attract insects, which are of use 
 to the plant in carrying the pollen from flower 
 to flower. 
 
 In many species the pollen is, and no doubt 
 it originally was in all, carried by the air. 
 In these cases the chance against any given 
 grain of pollen reaching the pistil of another 
 flower of the same species is of course very 
 great, and the quantity of pollen required is 
 therefore immense. 
 
 In species where the pollen is wind-borne 
 as in most of our trees firs, oaks, beech, 
 ash, elm, etc., and many herbaceous plants, 
 the flowers are as a rule small and inconspic- 
 uous, greenish, and without either scent or 
 honey. Moreover, they generally flower early, 
 so that the pollen may not be intercepted by 
 the leaves, but may have a better chance of 
 reaching another flower. And they produce 
 an immense quantity of pollen, as otherwise 
 there would be little chance that any would 
 reach the female flower. Every one must 
 have noticed the clouds of pollen produced by 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 123 
 
 the Scotch Fir. When, on the contrary, the 
 pollen is carried by insects, the quantity nec- 
 essary is greatly reduced. Still it has been 
 calculated that a Peony flower produces be- 
 tween 3,000,000 and 4,000,000 pollen grains ; 
 in the Dandelion, which is more specialised, 
 the number is reduced to about 250,000 ; 
 while in such a flower as the Dead-nettle it is 
 still smaller. 
 
 The honey attracts the insects ; while the 
 scent and colour help them to find the flowers, 
 the scent being especially useful at night, 
 which is perhaps the reason why evening 
 flowers are so sweet. 
 
 It is to insects, then, that flowers owe 
 their beauty, scent, and sweetness. Just as 
 gardeners, by continual selection, have added 
 so much to the beauty of our gardens, so to 
 the unconscious action of insects is due the 
 beauty, scent, and sweetness of the flowers of 
 our woods and fields. 
 
 Let us now apply these views to a few 
 common flowers. Take, for instance, the 
 White Dead-nettle. 
 
 The corolla of this beautiful and familiar 
 
124 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 flower (Fig. 6) consists of a narrow tube, some- 
 what expanded at the upper end (Fig. 7), 
 where the lower lobe forms a platform, on 
 
 each side of which is a 
 small projecting tooth 
 (Fig. 8, m). The upper 
 portion of the corolla 
 is an arched hood (co), 
 under which lie four 
 anthers (a a), in pairs, 
 while between them, 
 and projecting some- 
 what downwards, is 
 the pointed pistil (st) ; 
 the tube at the lower 
 part contains honey, 
 
 Fig. 6. White Dead-nettle. 
 
 and above the honey 
 is a row of hairs running round the tube. 
 
 Now, why has the flower this peculiar 
 form ? What regulates the length of 
 the tube ? What is the use of the arch ? 
 What lesson do the little teeth teach 
 us ? What advantage is the honey to the 
 flower ? Of what use is the fringe of hairs ? 
 Why does the stigma project beyond the 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 125 
 
 anthers? Why is the corolla white, while 
 the rest of the plant is green ? 
 
 The honey of course serves to attract the 
 Humble Bees by which the flower is fertilised, 
 and to which it is especially adapted ; the 
 
 CO 
 
 Fig. 7. Fig. 8. 
 
 white colour makes the flower more conspicu- 
 ous ; the lower lip forms the stage on which 
 the Bees may alight; the length of the tube 
 is adapted to that of their proboscis ; its 
 narrowness and the fringe of fine hairs exclude 
 small insects which might rob the flower of 
 its honey without performing any service in 
 return ; the arched upper lip protects the 
 stamens and pistil, and prevents rain-drops 
 from choking up the tube and washing away 
 the honey ; the little teeth are,, I believe, of 
 
126 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 < 
 
 no use to the flower in its present condition, 
 they are the last relics of lobes once much 
 larger, and still remaining so in some allied 
 species, but which in the Dead-nettle, being 
 no longer of any use, are gradually disap- 
 pearing ; the height of the arch has refer- 
 ence to the size of the Bee, being just so 
 much above the alighting stage that the 
 Bee, while sucking the honey, rubs its back 
 against the hood and thus comes in contact 
 first with the stigma and then with the 
 anthers, the pollen-grains from which adhere 
 to the hairs on the Bee's back, and are thus 
 carried off to the next flower which the Bee 
 visits, when some of them are then licked 
 off by the viscid tip of the stigma. 1 
 
 In the Salvias, the common blue Salvia of 
 our gardens, for instance, a plant allied to 
 the Dead-nettle, the flower (Fig. 9) is con- 
 structed on the same plan, but the arch is 
 much larger, so that the back of the Bee does 
 not nearly reach it. The stamens, however, 
 have undergone a remarkable modification. 
 Two of them have become small and function- 
 
 1 Lubbock, Flowers and Insects. 
 
IV 
 
 ON PLANT LIFE 
 
 127 
 
 less. In the other two the anthers or cells pro- 
 ducing the pollen, which in most flowers form 
 together a round knob or 
 head at the top of the 
 stamen, are separated by 
 a long arm, which plays 
 on the top of the stamen 
 as on a hinge. Of these 
 two arms one hangs down 
 into the tube, closing the 
 passage, while the other 
 lies under the arched upper lip. When the 
 Bee pushes its proboscis down the tube (Fig. 11) 
 
 Fig. 
 
 Fig. 10. 
 
 Fig. 11. 
 
 it presses the lower arm to one side, and the 
 upper arm consequently descends, tapping the 
 
128 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE * CHAP. 
 
 Bee on the back, and dusting it with pollen. 
 When the flower is a little older the pistil 
 (Fig. 9, p) has elongated so that the stigma 
 (Fig. 10, st) touches the back of the Bee and 
 carries off some of the pollen. This sounds a 
 little complicated, but is clear enough if we 
 take a twig or stalk of grass and push it 
 down the tube, when one arm of each of the 
 two larger stamens will at once make its 
 appearance. It is one of the most beautiful 
 pieces of plant mechanism which I know, 
 and was first described by Sprengel, a poor 
 German schoolmaster. 
 
 SNAPDKAGON 
 
 At first sight it may seem an objection to 
 the view here advocated that the flowers in 
 some species as, for instance, the common 
 Snapdragon (Antirrhinum), which, according 
 to the above given tests, ought to be fertilised 
 by insects are entirely closed. A little con- 
 sideration, however, will suggest the reply. 
 The Snapdragon is especially adapted for 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 129 
 
 fertilisation by Humble Bees. The stamens 
 and pistil are so arranged that smaller species 
 would not effect the object. It is therefore 
 an advantage that they should be excluded, 
 and in fact they are not strong enough to 
 move the spring. The Antirrhinum is, so to 
 speak, a closed box, of which the Humble 
 Bees alone possess the key. 
 
 FURZE, BROOM, AND LABURNUM 
 
 Other flowers such as the Furze, Broom, 
 Laburnum, etc., are also opened by Bees. 
 The petals lock more or less into one an- 
 other, and the flower remains at first closed. 
 When, however, the insect alighting on it 
 presses down the keel, the flower bursts open, 
 and dusts it with pollen. 
 
 SWEET PEA 
 
 In the above cases the flower once opened 
 does not close again. In others, such as the 
 Sweet Pea and the Bird's-foot Lotus, Nature 
 
130 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE - CHAP. 
 
 has been more careful. When the Bee alights 
 it clasps the "wings" of the flower with its 
 legs, thus pressing them down ; they are, 
 however, locked into the " keel," or lower 
 petal, which accordingly is also forced down, 
 thus exposing the pollen which rubs against, 
 and part of which sticks to, the breast of the 
 Bee. When she leaves the flower the keel 
 and wings rise again, thus protecting the rest 
 of the pollen and keeping it ready until 
 another visitor comes. It is easy to carry out 
 the same process with the fingers. 
 
 PRIMULA 
 
 In the Primrose and Cowslip, again, we find 
 quite a different plan. It had long been 
 known that if a number of Cowslips or Prim- 
 roses are examined, about half would be found 
 to have the stigma at the top of the tube and 
 the stamens half way down, while in the other 
 half the stamens are at the top and the stigma 
 half way down. These two forms are about 
 equally numerous, but never occur on the 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 131 
 
 same stock. They have been long known to 
 children and gardeners, who call them thrum- 
 eyed and pin-eyed. Mr. Darwin was the 
 first to explain the significance of this curious 
 difference. It cost him several years of 
 patient labour, but when once pointed out it 
 is sufficiently obvious. An insect thrusting its 
 
 CO 
 
 OoOO 
 
 
 X 250 
 
 Fig. 12. Fig. 13. 
 
 Flower and Pollen of Primrose 
 
 proboscis down a primrose of the long-styled 
 form (Fig. 12) would dust its proboscis at a 
 part (a) which, when it visited a short-styled 
 flower (Fig. 13), would come just opposite 
 the head of the pistil (st), and could not fail 
 to deposit some of the pollen on the stigma. 
 Conversely, an insect visiting a short-styled 
 plant would dust its proboscis at a part farther 
 
132 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 from the tip ; which, when the insect subse- 
 quently visited a long-styled flower, would 
 again come just opposite to the head of the 
 pistil. Hence we see that by this beautiful 
 arrangement insects must carry the pollen of 
 the long-styled form to the short-styled, and 
 vice versa. 
 
 The economy of pollen is not the only 
 advantage which plants derive from these 
 visits of Insects. A second and scarcely less 
 important is that they tend to secure "cross 
 fertilisation " ; that is to say, that the seed 
 shall be fertilised by pollen from another 
 plant. The fact that " cross fertilisation " is 
 of advantage to the plant doubtless also 
 explains the curious arrangement that in 
 many plants the stamen and pistil do not 
 mature at the same time the former having 
 shed their pollen before the pistil is mature ; 
 or, which happens less often, the pistil having 
 withered before the pollen is ripe. In most 
 Geraniums, Pinks, etc., for instance, and 
 many allied species, the stamens ripen first, 
 and are followed after an interval by the 
 pistil. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 133 
 
 THE NOTTINGHAM CATCHFLY 
 
 The Nottingham Catchfly (Silene nutans) 
 is a very interesting case. The flower is 
 adapted to be fertilised by Moths. Accord- 
 ingly it opens towards evening, and as is 
 generally the case with such flowers, is pale 
 in colour, and sw^eet-scented. There are two 
 sets of stamens, five in each set. The first 
 evening that the flower opens one set of sta- 
 mens ripen and expose their pollen. Towards 
 morning these wither away, the flower shrivels 
 up, ceases to emit scent, and looks as if it 
 were faded. So it remains all next day. 
 Towards evening it reopens, the second set of 
 stamens have their turn, and the flower again 
 becomes fragrant. By morning, however, the 
 second set of stamens have shrivelled, and the 
 flower is again asleep. Finally on the third 
 evening it re-opens for the last time, the long 
 spiral stigmas expand, and can hardly fail to 
 be fertilised with the pollen brought by Moths 
 from other flowers. 
 
134 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 THE 'HEATH 
 
 In the hanging flowers of Heaths the sta- 
 mens form a ring, and each one baars two 
 horns. When the Bee inserts its proboscis 
 into the flower to reach the honey, it is sure 
 to press against one of these horns, the ring 
 is dislocated, and the pollen falls on to the 
 head of the insect. In fact, any number of 
 other interesting cases might be mentioned. 
 
 BEES AND FLIES 
 
 Bees are intelligent insects, and would soon 
 cease to visit flowers which did not supply 
 them with food. Flies, however, are more 
 stupid, and are often deceived. Thus in our 
 lovely little Parnassia, five of the ten stamens 
 have ceased to produce pollen, but are pro- 
 longed into fingers, each terminating in a 
 shining yellow knob, which looks exactly like 
 a drop of honey, and by which Flies are con- 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 135 
 
 tinually deceived. Paris quadrifolia also 
 takes them in with a deceptive promise of the 
 same kind. Some foreign plants have livid 
 yellow and reddish flowers, with a most offen- 
 sive smell, and are constantly visited by Flies, 
 which apparently take them for pieces of 
 decaying meat. 
 
 The flower of the common Lords 
 and Ladies (Arum) of our hedges 
 is a very interesting case. The 
 narrow neck bears a number of 
 hairs pointing downwards. The 
 stamens are situated above the 
 stigma, which comes to maturity 
 first. Small Flies enter the flower 
 apparently for shelter, but the hairs 
 prevent them from returning, and 
 they are kept captive until the 
 anthers have shed their pollen. 
 
 Fig. 14. Arum. 
 
 Then, when the Flies have been 
 well dusted, the hairs shrivel up, leaving a 
 clear road, and the prisoners are permitted 
 to escape. The tubular flowers of Aristolochia 
 offer a very similar case. 
 
136 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 PAST HISTORY OF FLOWERS 
 
 If the views here advocated are correct, it 
 follows that the original flowers were small 
 and green, as wind-fertilised flowers are even 
 now. But such flowers are inconspicuous. 
 Those which are coloured, say yellow or white, 
 are of course much more visible and more 
 likely to be visited by insects. I have else- 
 where given my reasons for thinking that 
 under these circumstances some flowers be- 
 came yellow, that some of them became white, 
 others subsequently red, and some finally blue. 
 It will be observed that red and blue flowers 
 are as a rule highly specialised, such as 
 Aconites and Larkspurs as compared with 
 Buttercups; blue Gentians as compared with 
 yellow, etc. I have found by experiment 
 that Bees are especially partial to blue and 
 pink. 
 
 Tubular flowers almost always, if not 
 always, contain honey, and are specially suited 
 to Butterflies and Moths, Bees and Flies. 
 Those which are fertilised by Moths generally 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 137 
 
 come out in the evening, are often very sweetly 
 scented, and are generally white or pale 
 yellow, these colours being most visible in the 
 twilight. 
 
 Aristotle long ago noticed the curious fact 
 that in each journey Bees confine themselves 
 to some particular flower. This is an economy 
 of labour to the Bee, because she has not to 
 vary her course of proceeding. It is also an 
 advantage to the plants, because the pollen 
 is carried from each flower to another of the 
 same species, and is therefore less likely to be 
 wasted. 
 
 FKUITS AND SEEDS 
 
 After the flower comes the seed, often 
 contained in a fruit, and which itself en- 
 closes the future plant. Fruits and seeds 
 are adapted for dispersion, beautifully and in 
 various ways : some by the wind, being either 
 provided with a wing, as in the fruits of many 
 trees Sycamores, Ash, Elms, etc. ; or with 
 a hairy crown or covering, as with Thistles, 
 Dandelions, Willows, Cotton plant, etc. 
 
138 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUKE CIIAP. 
 
 Some seeds are carried by animals ; either 
 as food such as most edible fruits and seeds, 
 acorns, nuts, apples, strawberries, raspberries, 
 blackberries, plums, grasses, etc. or invol- 
 untarily, the seeds having hooked hairs or 
 processes, such as burrs, cleavers, etc. 
 
 Some seeds are scattered by the plants 
 themselves, as, for instance, those of many 
 Geraniums, Violets, Balsams, Shamrocks, etc. 
 Our little Herb Robert throws its seeds some 
 25 feet. 
 
 Some seeds force themselves into the 
 ground, as those of certain grasses, Cranes'- 
 bills (Erodiums), etc. 
 
 Some are buried by the parent plants, 
 as those of certain clovers, vetches, violets, 
 etc. 
 
 Some attach themselves to the soil, as 
 those of the Flax ; or to trees, as in the case 
 of the Mistletoe. 
 
 LEAVES 
 
 Again, as regards the leaves there can, I 
 think, be no doubt that similar considerations 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 139 
 
 of utility are applicable. Their forms are 
 almost infinitely varied. To quote Rus kin's 
 vivid words, they " take all kinds of strange 
 shapes, as if to invite us to examine them. 
 Star-shaped, heart-shaped, spear-shaped, arrow- 
 shaped, fretted, fringed, cleft, furrowed, ser- 
 rated, sinuated, in whorls, in tufts, in spires, 
 in wreaths, endlessly expressive, deceptive, 
 fantastic, never the same from foot-stalk to 
 blossom, they seem perpetually to tempt our 
 watchfulness and take delight in outstepping 
 our wonder." 
 
 But besides these differences of mere form, 
 there are many others : of structure, texture, 
 and surface ; some are scented or have a 
 strong taste, or acrid juice, some are smooth, 
 others hairy ; and the hairs again are of 
 various kinds. 
 
 I have elsewhere 1 endeavoured to explain 
 some of the causes which have determined 
 these endless varieties. In the Beech, for in- 
 stance (Fig. 15), the leaf has an area of about 
 3 square inches. The distance between the 
 buds is about H inch, and the leaves lie in 
 
 1 Flowers, Fruits, and Leaves. 
 
140 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHA?. 
 
 the general plane of the branch, which bends 
 slightly at each internode. The basal half of 
 the leaf fits the swell of 
 the twig, while the upper 
 half follows the edge of 
 the leaf above ; and the 
 form of the inner edge 
 being thus determined, 
 decides that of the outer 
 one also. 
 
 The weight, and con- 
 sequently the size of the 
 leaf, is limited by the 
 strength of the twig ; and, 
 again, in a climate such as 
 ours it is important to plants to have their 
 .leaves so arranged as to secure the maximum 
 of light. Hence in leaves which lie parallel to 
 the plane of the boughs, as in the Beech, the 
 width depends partly on the distance between 
 the buds; if the leaves were broader, they 
 would overlap, if they were narrower, space 
 would be wasted. Consequently the width 
 being determined by the distance between the 
 buds, and the size depending on the weight 
 
TV ON PLANT LIFE 141 
 
 which the twig can safely support, the length 
 also is determined. This argument is well 
 illustrated by comparing the leaves of the 
 Beech with those of the Spanish Chestnut. 
 The arrangement is similar, and the distance 
 between the buds being about the same, so is 
 the width of the leaves. But the terminal 
 branches of the Spanish Chestnut being much 
 stronger, the leaves can safely be heavier ; 
 hence the width being fixed, they grow in 
 length and assume the well-known and 
 peculiar sword-blade shape. 
 
 In the Sycamores, Maples (Fig. 16), and 
 Horse-Chestnuts the arrangement is altogether 
 different. The shoots are stiff and upright 
 with leaves placed at right angles to the 
 branches instead of being parallel to them. 
 The leaves are in pairs and decussate with 
 one another ; while the lower ones have long 
 petioles which bring them almost to the level 
 of the upper pairs, the whole thus forming a 
 beautiful dome. 
 
 For leaves arranged as in the Beech the 
 gentle swell at the base is admirably suited ; 
 but in a crown of leaves such as those of the 
 
142 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Sycamore, space would be wasted, and it is 
 better that they should expand at once, so 
 soon as their stalks have carried them free 
 from the upper and inner leaves. 
 
 In the Black Poplar the arrangement of 
 the leaves is again quite different. The leaf 
 stalk is flattened, so that the leaves hang 
 
 Fig. 16. Acer platanoides. 
 
 vertically. In connection with this it will 
 be observed that while in most leaves the 
 upper and under surfaces are quite unlike, in 
 the Black Poplar on the contrary they are 
 very similar. The stomata or breathing holes, 
 moreover, which in the leaves of most trees 
 are confined to the under surface, are in this 
 species nearly equally numerous on both. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 143 
 
 The "Compass" Plant of the American 
 prairies, a plant not unlike a small sunflower, 
 is another species with upright leaves, which 
 growing in the wide open prairies tend to point 
 north and south, thus exposing both surfaces 
 equally to the light and heat. Such a position 
 also affects the internal structure of the leaf, 
 the two sides becoming similar in structure, 
 while in other cases the upper and under 
 surfaces are very different. 
 
 In the Yew the leaves are inserted close 
 to one another, and are linear ; while in the 
 Box they are further apart and broader. 
 In other cases the width of the leaves is 
 determined by what botanists call the " Phyl- 
 lotaxy." Some plants have the leaves oppo- 
 site, each pair being at right angles with the 
 pairs above and below. 
 
 In others they are alternate, and arranged 
 round the stem in a spiral. In one very 
 common arrangement the sixth leaf stands 
 directly over the first, the intermediate ones 
 forming a spiral which has passed twice round 
 the stem. This, therefore, is known as the 
 f arrangement. Common cases are J, ^, f, f , 
 
144 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 and T %. In the first the leaves are generally 
 broad, in the f arrangement they are elliptic, 
 in the 3% and more complicated arrangements 
 nearly linear. The Willows afford a very 
 interesting series. Salix herbacea has the ^ 
 arrangement and rounded leaves, Salix caprea 
 elliptic leaves and f, Salix pentandra lancet- 
 shaped leaves and f , and S. incana linear leaves 
 and a T % arrangement. The result is that 
 whether the series consists of 2, 3, 5, 8, or 13 
 leaves, in every case, if we look perpendicu- 
 larly at a twig the leaves occupy the whole 
 circle. 
 
 In herbaceous plants upright leaves as a 
 rule are narrow, which is obviously an advan- 
 tage, while prostrate ones are broad. 
 
 AQUATIC PLANTS 
 
 Many aquatic plants have two kinds of 
 leaves ; some more or less rounded, which 
 float on the surface ; and others cut up into 
 narrow segments, which remain below. The 
 latter thus present a greater extent of surface. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 145 
 
 In air such leaves would be unable even to 
 support their own weight, much less to 
 resist the force of the wind. In still air, 
 however, for the same reason, finely-divided 
 leaves may be an advantage, while in exposed 
 positions compact and entire leaves are more 
 suitable. Hence herbaceous plants tend to 
 have divided, bushes and trees entire, leaves. 
 There are many cases when even in the same 
 family low and herb-like species have finely- 
 cut leaves, while in shrubby or ligneous ones 
 they more or less resemble those of the Laurel 
 or Beech. 
 
 These considerations affect trees more than 
 herbs, because trees stand more alone, while 
 herbaceous plants are more affected by sur- 
 rounding plants. Upright leaves tend to be 
 narrow, as in the case of grasses ; horizontal 
 leaves, on the contrary, wider. Large leaves 
 are more or less broken up into leaflets, 
 as in the Ash, Mountain-Ash, Horse-Chest- 
 nut, etc. 
 
 The forms of leaves depend also much on 
 the- manner in which they are packed into the 
 buds. 
 
146 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 The leaves of our English trees, as I have 
 already said, are so arranged as to secure the 
 maximum of light ; in very hot countries the 
 reverse is the case. Hence, in Australia, for 
 instance, the leaves are arranged not hori- 
 zontally, but vertically, so as to present, not 
 their surfaces, but their edges, to the sun. 
 One English plant, a species of lettuce, has 
 the same habit. This consideration has led 
 also to other changes. In many species the 
 leaves are arranged directly under, so as to 
 shelter, one another. The Australian species 
 of Acacia have lost their true leaves, and 
 the parts which in them we generally call 
 leaves are in reality vertically-flattened leaf 
 stalks. 
 
 In other cases the stem itself is green, and 
 to some extent replaces the leaves. In our 
 common Broom we see an approach to this, 
 and the same feature is more marked in 
 Cactus. Or the leaves become fleshy, thus 
 offering, in proportion to their volume, a 
 smaller surface for evaporation. Of this the 
 Stonecrops, Mesembryanthemum, etc., are 
 familiar instances. Other modes of checking 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 147 
 
 transpiration and thus adapting plants to dry 
 situations are by the development of hairs, 
 by the formation of chalky excretions, by 
 the sap becoming saline or viscid, by the leaf 
 becoming more or less rolled up, or protected 
 by a covering of varnish. 
 
 Our English trees are for the most part 
 deciduous. Leaves would be comparatively 
 useless in winter when growth is stopped by 
 the cold ; moreover, they would hold the 
 snow, and thus cause the boughs to be broken 
 down. Hence perhaps the glossiness of Ever- 
 green leaves, as, for instance, of the Holly, 
 from which the snow slips off. In warmer 
 climates trees tend to retain their leaves, and 
 some species which are deciduous in the north 
 become evergreen, or nearly so, in the south 
 of Europe. Evergreen leaves are as a rule 
 tougher and thicker than those which drop off 
 in autumn ; they require more protection from 
 the weather. But some evergreen leaves are 
 much longer lived than others ; those of the 
 Evergreen Oak do not survive a second year, 
 those of the Scotch Pine live for three, of the 
 Spruce Fir, Yew, etc., for eight or ten, of the 
 
148 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Pinsapo even eighteen. As a general rule 
 the Conifers with short leaves keep them on 
 for several years, those with long ones for 
 fewer, the length of the leaf being somewhat 
 in the inverse ratio to the length of its life ; 
 but this is not an invariable criterion, as other 
 circumstances also have to be taken into con- 
 sideration. 
 
 Leaves with strong scent, aromatic taste, or 
 acrid juice, are characteristic of dry regions, 
 where they run especial danger of being eaten, 
 and where they are thus more or less effec- 
 tively protected. 
 
 ON HAIRS 
 
 The hairs of plants are useful in various 
 ways. In some cases (1) they keep off super- 
 fluous moisture ; in others (2) they prevent 
 too rapid evaporation ; in some (3) they serve 
 as a protection against too glaring light ; in 
 some (4) they protect the plant from brows- 
 ing quadrupeds ; in others (5) from being 
 eaten by insects ; or, (6) serve as a quickset 
 hedge to prevent access to the flowers. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 149 
 
 In illustration of the first case I may refer 
 to many alpine plants, the well-known Edel- 
 weiss, for instance, where the woolly covering 
 of hairs prevents the " stomata," or minute 
 pores leading into the interior of the leaf, 
 from being clogged up by rain, dew, or fog, 
 and thus enable them to fulfil their functions 
 as soon as the sun comes out. 
 
 As regards the second case many desert and 
 steppe-plants are covered with felty hairs, 
 which serve to prevent too rapid evaporation 
 and consequent loss of moisture. 
 
 The woolly hairy leaves of the Mulleins 
 (Verbascum) doubtless tend to protect them 
 from being eaten, as also do the spines of 
 Thistles, and those of Hollies, which, be it 
 remarked, gradually disappear on the upper 
 leaves which browsing quadrupeds cannot 
 reach. 
 
 I have already alluded to the various ways 
 in which flowers are adapted to fertilisation 
 by insects. But Ants and other small creep- 
 ing insects cannot effectually secure this object. 
 Hence it is important that they should be ex- 
 cluded, and not allowed to carry off the honey, 
 
150 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 for which they would perform no service in 
 return. In many cases-, therefore, the open- 
 ing of the flower is either contracted to a 
 narrow passage, or is itself protected by a 
 fringe of hairs. In others the peduncle, or 
 the stalk of the plant, is protected by a hedge, 
 or chevaux de frise, of hairs. 
 
 In this connection I might allude to the 
 many plants which are more or less viscid. 
 This also is in most cases a provision to pre- 
 clude creeping insects from access to the 
 flowers. 
 
 There are various other kinds of hairs to 
 which I might refer glandular hairs, secre- 
 tive hairs, absorbing hairs, etc. It is marvel- 
 lous how beautifully the form and structure 
 of leaves is adapted to the habits and require- 
 ments of the plants, but I must not enlarge 
 further on this interesting subject. 
 
 The time indeed will no doubt come when 
 we shall be able to explain every difference of 
 form and structure, almost infinite as these 
 differences are. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 151 
 
 INFLUENCE OF SOIL 
 
 The character of the vegetation is of course 
 greatly influenced by that of the soil. In this 
 respect granitic and calcareous regions offer 
 perhaps the best marked contrast. 
 
 There are in Switzerland two kinds of 
 Rhododendrons, very similar in their flowers, 
 but contrasted in their leaves : Rhododendron 
 hirsuturn having them hairy at the edges as 
 the name indicates ; while in R. ferrugineum 
 they are rolled, but not hairy, at the edges, 
 and become ferrugineous on the lower side. 
 This species occurs in the granitic regions, 
 where R. hirsutum does not grow. 
 
 The Yarrows (Achillea) afford us a similar 
 case. Achillea atrata and A. moschata will 
 live either on calcareous or granitic soil, but 
 in a district where both occur, A. atrata grows 
 so much the more vigorously of the two if the 
 soil is calcareous that it soon exterminates 
 A. moschata; while in granite districts, on 
 the contrary, A. moschata is victorious and 
 A. atrata disappears. 
 
152 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Every keen sportsman will admit that a 
 varied " bag " has a special charm, and the 
 botanist in a summer's walk may see at least 
 a hundred plants in flower, all with either the 
 interest of novelty, or the charm of an old 
 friend. 
 
 ON SEEDLINGS 
 
 In many cases the Seedlings afford us an 
 interesting insight into the former condition 
 of the plant. Thus the leaves of the Furze 
 are reduced to thorns ; but those of the Seed- 
 ling are herbaceous and trifoliate like those of 
 the Herb Genet and other allied species, sub- 
 sequent ones gradually passing into spines. 
 This is evidence that the ancestors of the 
 Furze bore leaves. 
 
 Plants may be said to have their habits as 
 well as animals. 
 
 SLEEP OF PLANTS 
 
 Many flowers close their petals during 
 rain ; the advantage of which is that it pre- 
 vents the honey and pollen from being spoilt 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 153 
 
 or washed away. Everybody, however, has 
 observed that even in fine weather certain 
 flowers close at particular hours. This habit 
 of going to sleep is surely very curious. Why 
 should flowers do so ? In animals we can 
 better understand it ; they are tired and 
 require rest. But why should flowers sleep ? 
 Why should some flowers do so, and not 
 others ? Moreover, different flowers keep 
 different hours. The Daisy opens at sunrise 
 and closes at sunset, whence its name "day's- 
 eye. ?> The Dandelion (Leontodon) is said to 
 open about seven and to close about five ; 
 Arenaria rubra to be open from nine to three ; 
 the White Water Lily (Nymph sea), from about 
 seven to four ; the common Mouse-ear Hawk- 
 weed (Hieracium) from eight to three ; the 
 Scarlet Pimpernel (Anagallis) to waken at 
 seven and close soon after two ; Tragopogon 
 pratensis to open at four in the morning, 
 and close just before twelve, whence its 
 English name, "John go to bed at noon." 
 Farmers' boys in some parts are said to regu- 
 late their dinner time by it. Other flowers, 
 on the contrary, open in the evening. 
 
154 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Now it is obvious that flowers which are 
 fertilised by night-flying insects would derive 
 no advantage from being open by day ; and 
 on the other hand, that those which are 
 fertilised by bees would gain nothing by 
 being open at night. Nay it would be a 
 distinct disadvantage, because it would render 
 them liable to be robbed of their honey and 
 pollen, by insects which are not capable of 
 fertilising them. I have ventured to suggest 
 then that the closing of flowers may have 
 reference to the habits of insects, and it may 
 be observed also in support of this, that wind- 
 fertilised flowers do not sleep; and that many 
 of those flowers which attract insects by 
 smell, open and emit their scent at particular 
 hours ; thus Hesperis matronalis and Lychnis 
 vespertina smell in the evening, and Orchis 
 bifolia is particularly sweet at night. 
 
 But it is not the flowers only which 
 " sleep " at night ; in many species the leaves 
 also change their position, and Darwin has 
 given strong reasons for considering that the 
 object is to check transpiration and thus tend 
 to a protection against cold. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 155 
 
 BEHAVIOUR OF LEAVES IN RAIN 
 
 The behaviour of plants with reference to 
 rain affords many points of much interest. 
 The Germander Speedwell (Veronica) has two 
 strong rows of hairs, the Chickweed (Stellaria) 
 one, running down the stem and thus conduct- 
 ing the rain to the roots. Plants with a main 
 tap-root, like the Radish or the Beet, have 
 leaves sloping inwards so as to conduct the 
 rain towards the axis of the plant, and con- 
 sequently to the roots ; while, on the contrary, 
 where the roots are spreading the leaves slope 
 outwards. 
 
 In other cases the leaves hold the rain or 
 dew drops. Every one who has been in the 
 Alps must have noticed how the leaves of the 
 Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla) form little cups 
 containing each a sparkling drop of icy water. 
 Kerner has suggested that owing to these cold 
 drops, the cattle and sheep avoid the leaves. 
 
156 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 MIMICRY 
 
 In many cases plants mimic others which 
 are better protected than themselves. Thus 
 Matricaria Chamomilla mimics the true Cham- 
 omile, which from its bitterness is not eaten 
 by quadrupeds. Ajuga Chamsepitys mimics 
 Euphorbia Cyparissias, with which it often 
 grows, and which is protected by its acrid 
 juice. The most familiar case, however, is 
 that of the Stinging and the Dead Nettles. 
 They very generally grow together, and 
 though belonging to quite different families 
 are so similar that they are constantly mis- 
 taken fr one another. Some Orchids have a 
 curious resemblance to insects, after which 
 they have accordingly been named the Bee 
 Orchis, Fly Orchis, Butterfly Orchis, etc., but 
 it has not yet been satisfactorily shown what 
 advantage the resemblance is to the plant. 
 
 ANTS AND PLANTS 
 
 The transference of pollen from plant to 
 
iv OK PLANT LIFE 157 
 
 plant is by no means the only service which 
 insects render. 
 
 Ants, for instance, are in many cases very 
 useful to plants. They destroy immense 
 numbers of caterpillars and other insects. 
 Forel observing a large Ants' nest counted 
 more than 28 insects brought in as food per 
 minute. In some cases Ants attach them- 
 selves to particular trees, constituting a sort 
 of bodyguard. A species of Acacia, described 
 by Belt, bears hollow thorns, while each leaflet 
 produces honey in a crater-formed gland at 
 the base, as well as a small, sweet, pear- 
 shaped body at the tip. In consequence it 
 is inhabited by myriads of a small ant, which 
 nests in the hollow thorns, and thus finds 
 meat, drink, and lodging all provided for it. 
 These ants are continually roaming over the 
 plant, and constitute a most efficient body- 
 guard, not only driving off the leaf-eating 
 ants, but, in Belt's opinion, rendering the 
 leaves less liable to be eaten by herbivorous 
 mammalia. Delpino mentions that on one 
 occasion he was gathering a flower of Clero- 
 dendrum, when he was himself suddenly 
 attacked by a whole army of small ants. 
 
158 THE BEAUTIES OP NATURE 
 
 INSECTIVOROUS PLANTS 
 
 In the cases above mentioned the relation 
 between flowers and insects is one of mutual 
 advantage. But this is by no means an in- 
 variable rule. Many insects, as we all know, 
 live on plants, but it came upon botanists as a 
 surprise when our countryman Ellis first dis- 
 covered that some plants catch and devour in- 
 sects. This he observed in a North American 
 plant Dionaea, the leaves of which are formed 
 something like a rat-trap, with a hinge in the 
 middle, and a formidable row of spines round 
 the edge. On the surface are a few very sen- 
 sitive hairs, and the moment any small insect 
 alights on the leaf and touches one of these 
 hairs the two halves of the leaf close up 
 quickly and catch it. The surface then throws 
 out a glutinous secretion, by means of which 
 the leaf sucks up the nourishment contained 
 in the insect. 
 
 Our common Sun-dews (Drosera) are also 
 insectivorous, the prey being in their case 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 159 
 
 captured by glutinous hairs. Again, the Blad- 
 derwort (Utricularia), a plant with pretty 
 yellow flowers, growing in pools and slow 
 streams, is so called because it bears a great 
 number of bladders or utricles, each of which 
 is a real miniature eel-trap, having an orifice 
 guarded by a flap opening inwards which 
 allows small water animals to enter, but pre- 
 vents them from coming out again. The 
 Butterwort (Pinguicula) is another of these 
 carnivorous plants. 
 
 MOVEMENTS OF PLANTS 
 
 While considering Plant life we must by 
 no means confine our attention to the higher 
 orders, but must remember also those lower 
 groups which converge towards the lower 
 forms of animals, so that in the present state 
 of our knowledge the two cannot always be 
 distinguished with certainty. Many of them 
 differ indeed greatly from the ordinary con- 
 ception of a plant. Even the comparatively 
 highly organised Seaweeds multiply by means 
 
160 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 of bodies called spores, which an untrained 
 observer would certainly suppose to be animals. 
 They are covered by vibratile hairs or " cilia," 
 by means of which they swim about freely in 
 the water, and even possess a red spot which, 
 as being especially sensitive to light, may be 
 regarded as an elementary eye, and with the 
 aid of which they select some suitable spot, to 
 which they ultimately attach themselves. 
 
 It was long considered as almost a charac- 
 teristic of plants that they possessed no power 
 of movement. This is now known to be an 
 error. In fact, as Darwin has shown, every 
 growing part of a plant is in continual and 
 even constant rotation. The stems of climb- 
 ing plants make great sweeps, and in other 
 cases, when the motion is not so apparent, it 
 nevertheless really exists. I have already 
 mentioned that many plants change the posi- 
 tion of their leaves or flowers, or, as it is 
 called, sleep at night. 
 
 The common Dandelion raises its head 
 when the florets open, opens and shuts morn- 
 ing and evening, then lies down again while 
 the seeds are ripening, and raises itself a 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 161 
 
 second time when they are ready to be carried 
 away by the wind. 
 
 Valisneria spiralis is a very interesting case. 
 It is a native of European rivers, and the 
 female flower has a long spiral stalk which 
 enables it to float on the surface of the water. 
 The male flowers have no stalks, and grow 
 low down on the plant. They soon, however, 
 detach themselves altogether, rise to the sur- 
 face, and thus are enabled to fertilise the 
 female flowers among which they float. The 
 spiral stalk of the female flower then contracts 
 and draws it down to the bottom of the water 
 so that the seeds may ripen in safety. Many 
 plants throw or bury their seeds. 
 
 The sensitive plants close their leaves when 
 touched, and the leaflets of Desmodium gyrans 
 are continually revolving. I have already 
 mentioned that the spores of seaweeds swim 
 freely in the water by means of cilia. Some 
 microscopic plants do so throughout a great 
 part of their lives. 
 
 A still lower group, the Myxomycetes, 
 which resemble small, more or less branched, 
 masses of jelly, and live in damp soil, among 
 
162 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 decaying leaves, under bark and in similar 
 moist situations, are still more remarkably 
 animal like. They are never fixed, but in 
 almost continual movement, due to differences 
 of moisture, warmth, light, or chemical action. 
 If, for instance, a moist body is brought into 
 contact with one of their projections, or 
 " pseudopods," the protoplasm seems to roll 
 itself in that direction, and so the whole 
 organism gradually changes its place. So 
 again, while a solution of salt, carbonate of 
 potash, or saltpetre causes them to withdraw 
 from the danger, an infusion of sugar, or tan, 
 produces a flow of protoplasm towards the 
 source of nourishment. In fact, in the same 
 way it rolls over and round its food, absorbing 
 what is nutritious as it passes along. In cold 
 weather they descend into the soil, and one 
 of them (OEthalium), which lives in tan pits, 
 descends in winter to a depth of several 
 feet. When about to fructify it changes its 
 habits, seeks the light instead of avoiding it, 
 climbs upwards, and produces its fruit above 
 ground. 
 
iv ON PLANT LIFE 163 
 
 IMPERFECTION OF OUR KNOWLEDGE 
 
 The total number of living species of 
 plants may be roughly estimated at 500,000, 
 and there is not one, of which we can 
 say that the structure, uses, and life-history 
 are yet fully known to us. Our museums 
 contain large numbers which botanists have 
 not yet had time to describe and name. 
 Even in our own country not a year passes 
 without some additional plant being discov- 
 ered ; as regards the less known regions of 
 the earth not half the species have yet been 
 collected. Among the Lichens and Fungi 
 especially many problems of their life-history, 
 some, indeed, of especial importance to man, 
 still await solution. 
 
 Our knowledge of the fossil forms, more- 
 over, falls far short even of that of existing 
 species, which, on the other hand, they must 
 have greatly exceeded in number. Every 
 difference of form, structure, and colour has 
 doubtless some cause and explanation, so that 
 the field for research is really inexhaustible. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 WOODS AND FIELDS 
 
" By day or by night, summer or winter, beneath trees 
 the heart feels nearer to that depth of life which the far sky 
 means. The rest of spirit, found only in beauty, ideal and 
 pure, comes there because the distance seems within touch 
 of thought." JEFFERIES. 
 
CHAPTER Y 
 
 WOODS AND FIELDS 
 
 RURAL life, says Cicero, " is not delightful 
 by reason of cornfields only and meadows, and 
 vineyards and groves, but also for its gardens 
 and orchards, for the feeding of cattle, the 
 swarms of bees, and the variety of all kinds of 
 flowers." Bacon considered that a garden is 
 "the greatest refreshment to the spirits of 
 man, without which buildings and palaces 
 are but gross handyworks, and a man shall 
 ever see, that when ages grow to civility and 
 elegancy men come to build stately sooner 
 than to garden finely, as if gardening were 
 the greater perfection." 
 
 No doubt " the pleasure which we take in a 
 garden is one of the most innocent delights in 
 human life." 1 Elsewhere there may be scat- 
 
 1 The Spectator. 
 
 167 
 
168 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 tered flowers, or sheets of colour due to one or 
 two species, but in gardens one glory follows 
 another. Here are brought together all the 
 
 quaint enamelled eyes, 
 
 That on the green turf sucked the honeyed showers, 
 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
 Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 
 The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, 
 The white pink and the pansy freaked with jet, 
 The glowing violet, 
 
 The musk rose, and the well attired woodbine, 
 With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
 And every flower that sad embroidery wears. 1 
 
 We cannot, happily we need not try to, 
 contrast or compare the beauty of gardens 
 with that of woods and fields. 
 
 And yet to the true lover of Nature wild 
 flowers have a charm which no garden can 
 equal. Cultivated plants are but a living 
 herbarium. They surpass, no doubt, the 
 dried specimens of a museum, but, lovely as 
 they are, they can be no more compared with 
 the natural vegetation of our woods and fields 
 than the captives in the Zoological Gardens 
 with the same wild species in their native 
 forests and mountains. 
 
 1 Milton. 
 
V WOODS AND FIELDS 169 
 
 Often indeed, our woods and fields rival 
 gardens even in the richness of colour. We 
 have all seen meadows white with Narcissus, 
 glowing with Buttercups, Cowslips, early 
 purple Orchis, or Cuckoo Flowers ; cornfields 
 blazing with Poppies; woods carpeted with 
 Bluebells, Anemones, Primroses, and Forget- 
 me-nots ; commons with the yellow Lady's 
 Bedstraw, Harebells, and the sweet Thyme ; 
 marshy places with the yellow stars of the 
 Bog Asphodel, the Sun-dew sparkling with 
 diamonds, Ragged Robin, the beautifully 
 fringed petals of the Buckbean, the lovely 
 little Bog Pimpernel, or the feathery tufts of 
 Cotton Grass ; hedgerows with Hawthorn and 
 Traveller's Joy, Wild Rose and Honeysuckle, 
 while underneath are the curious leaves and 
 orange fruit of the Lords and Ladies, the 
 snowy stars of the Stitchwort, Succory, Yar- 
 row, and several kinds of Violets ; while all 
 along the banks of streams are the tall red 
 spikes of the Loosestrife, the Hemp Agrimony, 
 Water Groundsel, Sedges, Bulrushes, Flower- 
 ing Rush, Sweet Flag, etc. 
 
 Many other sweet names will also at once 
 
170 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 occur to us Snowdrops, Daffodils and Hearts- 
 ease, Lady's Mantles and Lady's Tresses, 
 Eyebright, Milkwort, Foxgloves, Herb Roberts, 
 Geraniums, and among rarer species, at least 
 in England, Columbines and Lilies. 
 
 But Nature does not provide delights for 
 the eye only. The other senses are not for- 
 gotten. A thousand sounds many delight- 
 ful in themselves, and all by association 
 songs of birds, hum of insects, rustle of leaves, 
 ripple of water, seem to fill the air. 
 
 Flowers again are sweet, as well as lovely. 
 The scent of pine woods, which is said to 
 be very healthy, is certainly delicious, and 
 the effect of Woodland scenery is good for 
 the mind as well as for the body. 
 
 "Resting quietly under an ash tree, with 
 the scent of flowers, and the odour of green 
 buds and leaves, a ray of sunlight yonder 
 lighting up the lichen and the moss on the 
 oak trunk, a gentle air stirring in the branches 
 above, giving glimpses of fleecy clouds sailing 
 in the ether, there comes into the mind a feel- 
 ing of intense joy in the simple fact of living." l 
 
 1 Jefferies. 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 171 
 
 The wonderful phenomenon of phospho- 
 rescence is not a special gift to the animal king- 
 dom. Henry 0. Forbes describes a forest in 
 Sumatra : " The stem of every tree blinked 
 with a pale greenish-white light which un- 
 dulated also across the surface of the ground 
 like moonlight coming and going behind the 
 clouds, from a minute thread-like fungus in- 
 visible in the day-time to the unassisted eye ; 
 and here and there thick dumpy mushrooms 
 displayed a sharp, clear dome of light, whose 
 intensity never varied or changed till the break 
 of day ; long phosphorescent caterpillars -and 
 centipedes crawled out of every corner, leaving 
 a trail of light behind them, while fire-flies 
 darted about above like a lower firmament." * 
 
 Woods and Forests were to our ancestors 
 the special scenes of enchantment. 
 
 The great Ash tree Yggdrasil bound to- 
 gether Heaven, Earth, and Hell. Its top 
 reached to Heaven, its branches covered the 
 Earth, and the roots penetrated into Hell. 
 The three Normas or Fates sat under it, spin- 
 ning the thread of life. 
 
 1 Forbes, A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archi- 
 pelago. 
 
172 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 Of all the gods and goddesses of classical 
 mythology or our own folk-lore, none were 
 more fascinating than the Nature Spirits 
 Elves and Fairies, Neckans and Kelpies, 
 Pixies and Ouphes, Mermaids, Undines, Water 
 Spirits, and all the Elfin world 
 
 Which have their haunts in dale and piny mountain, 
 Or forests, by slow stream or tingling brook. 
 
 They come out, as we are told, especially on 
 moonlight nights. But while evening thus 
 clothes many a scene with poetry, forests are 
 fairy land all day long. 
 
 Almost any wood contains many and many 
 a spot well suited for Fairy feasts ; where one 
 might most expect to find Titania, resting, as 
 once we are told, 
 
 She lay upon a bank, the favourite haunt 
 Of the Spring wind in its first sunshine hour, 
 For the luxuriant strawberry blossoms spread 
 Like a snow shower then, and violets 
 Bowed down their purple vases of perfume 
 About her pillow, linked in a gay band 
 Floated fantastic shapes ; these were her guards, 
 Her lithe and rainbow elves. 
 
 The fairies have disappeared, and, so far as 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 173 
 
 England is concerned, the larger forest 
 animals have vanished almost as completely. 
 The Elk and Bear, the Boar and Wolf have 
 gone, the Stag has nearly disappeared, and 
 but a scanty remnant of the original wild 
 Cattle linger on at Chillingham. Still the 
 woods teem with life ; the Fox and Badger, 
 Stoat and Weasel, Hare and Rabbit, and 
 Hedgehog, 
 
 The tawny squirrel vaulting through the boughs, 
 Hawk, buzzard, jay, the mavis and the merle, 1 
 
 the Owls and Nightjar, the Woodpecker, Nut- 
 hatch, Magpie, Doves, and a hundred more. 
 
 In early spring the woods are bright with 
 the feathery catkins of the Willow, followed 
 by the soft green of the Beech, the white or 
 pink flowers of the Thorn, the pyramids of the 
 Horse-chestnut, festoons of the Laburnum and 
 Acacia, and the Oak slowly wakes from its 
 winter sleep, while the Ash leaves long linger 
 in their black buds. 
 
 Under foot is a carpet of flowers Anem- 
 ones, Cowslips, Primroses, Bluebells, and 
 
 1 Tennyson. 
 
174 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 the golden blossoms of the Broom, which, 
 however, while Gorse and Heather continue 
 in bloom for months, " blazes for a week or 
 two, and is then completely extinguished, like 
 a fire that has burnt itself out." * 
 
 In summer the tints grow darker, the birds 
 are more numerous and full of life ; the air 
 teems with insects, with the busy murmur of 
 bees and the idle hum of flies, while the cool 
 of morning and evening, and the heat of the 
 day, are all alike delicious. 
 
 As the year advances and the flowers wane, 
 we have many beautiful fruits and berries, 
 the red hips and haws of the wild roses, 
 scarlet holly berries, crimson yew cups, the 
 translucent berries of the Guelder Kose, 
 hanging coral beads of the Black Bryony, 
 feathery festoons of the Traveller's Joy, and 
 others less conspicuous, but still exquisite in 
 themselves acorns, beech nuts, ash keys, and 
 many more. It is really difficult to say which 
 are most beautiful, the tender greens of spring 
 or the rich tints of autumn, which glow so 
 brightly in the sunshine. 
 
 1 Hamerton. 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 175 
 
 Tropical fruits are even more striking. No 
 one who has seen it can ever forget a grove of 
 orange trees in full fruit ; while the more we 
 examine the more we find to admire ; all per- 
 fectly and exquisitely finished "usque ad 
 ungues," perfect inside and outside, for 
 Nature 
 
 Does in the Pomegranate close 
 Jewels more rare than Ormus shows. 1 
 
 In winter the woods are comparatively 
 bare and lifeless, even the Brambles and 
 Woodbine, which straggle over the tangle of 
 underwood being almost leafless. 
 
 Still even then they have a beauty and 
 interest of their own; the mossy boles of the 
 trees ; the delicate tracery of the branches 
 which can hardly be appreciated when they 
 are covered with leaves ; and under foot the 
 beds of fallen leaves ; while the evergreens 
 seem brighter than in summer ; the ruddy 
 stems and rich green foliage of the Scotch 
 Pines, and the dark spires of the Firs, seeming 
 to acquire fresh beauty. 
 
 i Marvell. 
 
176 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Again in winter, though no doubt the 
 living tenants of the woods are much less 
 numerous, many of our birds being then far 
 away in the dense African forests, on the 
 other hand those which remain are much 
 more easily visible. We can follow the birds 
 from tree to tree, and the Squirrel from 
 bough to bough. 
 
 It requires little imagination to regard 
 trees as conscious beings, indeed it is almost 
 an effort not to do so. 
 
 " The various action of trees rooting them- 
 selves in inhospitable rocks, stooping to look 
 into ravines, hiding from the search of glacier 
 winds, reaching forth to the rays of rare sun- 
 shine, crowding down together to drink at 
 sweetest streams, climbing hand in hand 
 among the difficult slopes, opening in sudden 
 dances among the mossy knolls, gathering 
 into companies at rest among the fragrant 
 fields, gliding in grave procession over the 
 heavenward ridges nothing of this can be 
 conceived among the unvexed and unvaried 
 felicities of the lowland forest; while to all 
 these direct sources of greater beauty are 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 177 
 
 added, first the power of redundance, the 
 mere quantity of foliage visible in the folds 
 and on the promontories of a single Alp 
 being greater than that of an entire ]owland 
 landscape (unless a view from some Cathedral 
 tower) ; and to this charm of redundance, that 
 of clearer visibility tree after tree being con- 
 stantly shown in successive height, one behind 
 another, instead of the mere tops and flanks 
 of masses as in the plains ; and the forms of 
 multitudes of them continually defined against 
 the clear sky, near and above, or against 
 white clouds entangled among their branches, 
 instead of being confused in dimness of 
 distance." l 
 
 There is much that is interesting in the 
 relations of one species to another. Many 
 plants are parasitic upon others. The foliage 
 of the Beech is so thick that scarcely anything 
 will grow under it, except those spring plants, 
 such as the Anemone and the Wood Butter- 
 cup or Goldilocks, which flower early before 
 the Beech is in leaf. 
 
 There are other cases in which the reason 
 
 1 Ruskin. 
 
178 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 for the association of species is less evident. 
 The Larch and the Arolla (Finns Cembra) 
 are close companions. They grow together 
 in Siberia ; they do not occur in Scandinavia 
 or Russia, but both reappear in certain Swiss 
 valleys, especially in the cantons of Lucerne 
 and Yalais and the Engadine. 
 
 Another very remarkable case which has 
 recently been observed is the relation existing 
 between some of our forest trees and certain 
 Fungi, the species of which have not yet 
 been clearly ascertained. The root tips of the 
 trees are as it were enclosed in a thin sheet 
 of closely woven mycelium. It was at first 
 supposed that the fungus was attacking the 
 roots of the tree, but it is now considered 
 that the tree and the fungus mutually benefit 
 one another. The fungus collects nutriment 
 from the soil, which passes into the tree and 
 up to the leaves, where it is elaborated into 
 sap, the greater part being utilized by the 
 tree, but a portion reabsorbed by the fungus. 
 There is reason to think that, in some cases 
 at any rate, the mycelium is that of the 
 Truffle. 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 179 
 
 The great tropical forests have a totally 
 different character from ours. I reproduce 
 here the plate from Kingsley's At Last. The 
 trees strike all travellers by their magnificence, 
 the luxuriance of their vegetation, and their 
 great variety. Our forests contain compara- 
 tively few species, whereas in the tropics we 
 are assured that it is far from common to see 
 two of the same species near one another. 
 But while in our forests the species are few, 
 each tree has an independence and individu- 
 ality of its own. In the tropics, on the con- 
 trary, they are interlaced and interwoven, so 
 as to form one mass of vegetation ; many of 
 the trunks are almost concealed by an under- 
 growth of verdure, and intertwined by spiral 
 stems of parasitic plants ; from tree to tree 
 hang an inextricable network of lianas, and it 
 is often difficult to tell to which tree the 
 fruits, flowers, and leaves really belong. The 
 trunks run straight up to a great height with- 
 out a branch, and then form a thick leafy 
 canopy far overhead ; a canopy so dense that 
 even the blaze of the cloudless blue sky is 
 subdued, one might almost say into a weird 
 
180 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 gloom, the effect of which is enhanced by the 
 solemn silence. At first such a forest gives 
 the impression of being more open than an 
 English wood, but a few steps are sufficient 
 to correct this error. There is a thick under- 
 growth matted together by wiry creepers, and 
 the intermediate space is traversed in all 
 directions by lines and cords. 
 
 The English traveller misses sadly the 
 sweet songs of our birds, which are replaced 
 by the hoarse chatter of parrots. Now and 
 then a succession of cries even harsher and 
 more discordant tell of a troop of monkeys 
 passing across from tree to tree among the 
 higher branches, or lower sounds indicate to 
 a practised ear the neighbourhood of an ape, 
 a sloth, or some other of the few mammals 
 which inhabit the great forests. Occasionally 
 a large blue bee hums past, a brilliant butter- 
 fly flashes across the path, or a humming-bird 
 hangs in the air over a flower like, as St. 
 Pierre says, an emerald set in coral, but 
 "how weak it is to say that that exquisite 
 little being, whirring and fluttering in the air, 
 has a head of ruby, a throat of emerald, and 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 181 
 
 wings of sapphire, as if any triumph of the 
 jeweller's art could ever vie with that spark- 
 ling epitome of life and light." l 
 
 Sir Wyville Thomson graphically describes 
 a morning in a Brazilian forest : 
 
 " The night was almost absolutely silent, 
 only now and then a peculiarly shrill cry of 
 some night bird reached us from the woods. 
 As we got into the skirt of the forest the 
 morning broke, but the reveil in a Brazilian 
 forest is wonderfully different from the slow 
 creeping on of the dawn of a summer morning 
 at home, to the music of the thrushes answer- 
 ing one another's full rich notes from neigh- 
 bouring thorn-trees. Suddenly a yellow light 
 spreads upwards in the east, the stars quickly 
 fade, and the dark fringes of the forest and 
 the tall palms show out black against the 
 yellow sky, and almost before one has time to 
 observe the change the sun has risen straight 
 and fierce, and the whole landscape is bathed 
 in the full light of day. But the morning is 
 yet for another hour cool and fresh, and the 
 scene is indescribably beautiful. The woods, 
 
 1 Thomson, Voyage of the Challenger. 
 
182 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 so absolutely silent and still before., break at 
 once into noise and movement. Flocks of 
 toucans flutter and scream on the tops of the 
 highest forest trees hopelessly out of shot, the 
 ear is pierced by the strange wild screeches of 
 a little band of macaws which fly past you 
 like the wrapped-up ghosts of the birds on 
 some gaudy old brocade." l 
 
 Mr. Darwin tells us that nothing can be 
 better than the description of tropical forests 
 given by Bates. 
 
 " The leafy crowns of the trees, scarcely 
 two of which could be seen together of the 
 same kind, were now far away above us, in 
 another world as it were. We could only see 
 at times, where there was a break above, the 
 tracery of the foliage against the clear blue 
 sky. Sometimes the leaves were palmate, or 
 of the shape of large outstretched hands ; at 
 others finely cut or feathery like the leaves of 
 Mimosse. Below, the tree trunks were every- 
 where linked together by sipos ; the woody 
 flexible stems of climbing and creeping trees, 
 whose foliage is far away above, mingled with 
 
 1 Thomson, Voyage of the Challenger. 
 
V WOODS AND FIELDS 183 
 
 that of the taller independent trees. Some 
 were twisted in strands like cables, others had 
 thick steins contorted in every variety of shape, 
 entwining snake-like round the tree trunks or 
 forming gigantic loops and coils among the 
 larger branches ; others, again, were of zigzag 
 shape, or indented like the steps of a staircase, 
 sweeping from the ground to a giddy height." 
 The reckless and wanton destruction of 
 forests has ruined some of the richest countries 
 on earth. Syria and Asia Minor, Palestine 
 and the north of Africa were once far more 
 populous than they are at present. They were* 
 once lands "flowing with milk and honey," 
 according to the picturesque language of the 
 Bible, but are now in many places reduced to 
 dust and ashes. Why is there this melancholy 
 change ? Why have deserts replaced cities ? 
 It is mainly owing to the ruthless destruction 
 of the trees, which has involved that of 
 nations. Even nearer home a similar process 
 may be witnessed. Two French departments 
 the Haute s- and Basses- Alpes are being 
 gradually reduced to ruin by the destruction 
 of the forests. Cultivation is diminishing, 
 
184 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 vineyards are being washed away, the towns 
 are threatened, the population is dwindling, 
 and unless something is done the country will 
 be reduced to a desert ; until, when it has 
 been released from the destructive presence of 
 man, Nature reproduces a covering of vege- 
 table soil, restores the vegetation, creates the 
 forests anew, and once again fits these regions 
 for the habitation of man. 
 
 In another part of France we have an illus- 
 tration of the opposite process. 
 
 The region of the Landes, which fifty years 
 ago was one of the poorest and most miserable 
 in France, has now been made one of the most 
 prosperous owing to the planting of Pines. 
 The increased value is estimated at no less 
 than 1,000,000,000 francs. Where there were 
 fifty years ago only a few thousand poor and 
 unhealthy shepherds whose flocks pastured on 
 the scanty herbage, there are now sawmills, 
 charcoal kilns, and turpentine works, inter- 
 spersed with thriving villages and fertile agri- 
 cultural lands. 
 
 In our own country, though woodlands are 
 perhaps on the increase, true forest scenery is 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 185 
 
 gradually disappearing. This is, I suppose, un- 
 avoidable, but it is a matter of regret. Forests 
 have so many charms of their own. They give 
 a delightful impression of space and of abun- 
 dance. 
 
 The extravagance is sublime. Trees, as 
 Jefferies says, " throw away handfuls of flower ; 
 and in the meadows the careless, spendthrift 
 ways of grass and flower and all things are not 
 to be expressed. Seeds by the hundred million 
 float with absolute indifference on the air. 
 The oak has a hundred thousand more leaves 
 than necessary, and never hides a single acorn. 
 Nothing utilitarian everything on a scale oi 
 splendid waste. Such noble, broadcast, open- 
 armed waste is delicious to behold. Never 
 was there such a lying proverb as ' Enough is 
 as good as a feast.' Give me the feast ; give 
 me squandered millions of seeds, luxurious 
 carpets of petals, green mountains of oak- 
 leaves. The greater the waste the greater 
 the enjoyment the nearer the approach to 
 real life." 
 
 It is of course impossible here to give any 
 idea of the complexity of structure of our 
 
186 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 forest trees. A slice across the stem of a 
 tree shows many different tissues with more or 
 less technical names, bark and cambium, med- 
 ullary rays, pith, and more or less specialised 
 tissue ; air-vessels, punctate vessels, woody 
 fibres, liber fibres, scalar if or m vessels, and 
 other more or less specialised tissues. 
 
 Let us take a single leaf. The name is 
 synonymous with anything very thin, so that 
 we might well fancy that a leaf would consist 
 of only one or two layers of cells. Far from 
 it, the leaf is a highly complex structure. On 
 the upper surface are a certain number of 
 scattered hairs, while in the bud these are 
 often numerous, long, silky, and serve to 
 protect the young leaf, but the greater number 
 fall off soon after the leaf expands. The hairs 
 are seated on a layer of flattened cells the 
 skin or epidermis. Below this are one or 
 more layers of " palisade cells," the function 
 of which seems to be to regulate the quantity 
 of light entering the leaf. Under these again 
 is the " parenchyme," several layers of more or 
 less rounded cells, leaving air spaces and pas- 
 sages between them. From place to place in 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 187 
 
 the parenchyme run "fibre-vascular bundles," 
 forming a sort of skeleton to the leaf, and 
 comprising air-vessels on the upper side, rayed 
 or dotted vessels with woody fibre below, and 
 vessels of various kinds. The under surface 
 of the leaf is formed by another layer of 
 flattened cells, supporting generally more or 
 less hairs, and some of them specially modi- 
 fied so as to leave minute openings or 
 " stomata " leading into the air passages. 
 These stomata are so small that there are 
 millions on a single leaf, and on plants growing 
 in dry countries, such as the Evergreen Oak, 
 Oleander, etc., they are sunk in pits, and fur- 
 ther protected by tufts of hair. 
 
 The cells of the leaf again are themselves 
 complex. They consist of a cell wall per- 
 forated by extremely minute orifices, of pro- 
 toplasm, cell fluid, and numerous granules 
 of " Chlorophyll," which give the leaf its 
 green colour. 
 
 While these are, stated very briefly, the 
 essential parts of a leaf, the details differ in 
 every species, while in the same species and 
 even in the same plant, the leaves, present 
 
188 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 minor differences according to the situation 
 in which they grow. 
 
 Since, then, there is so much complex 
 structure in a single leaf, what must it be in a 
 whole plant ? There is a giant seaweed (Mac- 
 rocystis), which has been known to reach a 
 length of 1000 feet, as also do some of the 
 lianas of tropical forests. These, however, 
 attain no great bulk, and the most gigantic 
 specimens of the vegetable kingdom yet 
 known are the Wellingtonia (Sequoia) gigan- 
 tea, which grows to a height of 450 feet, and 
 the Blue Gum (Eucalyptus) even to 480. 
 
 One is apt to look on animal structure as 
 more delicate, and of a higher order, than 
 that of plants. And so no doubt it is. Yet 
 an animal, even man himself, will recover 
 from a wound or an operation more rapidly 
 and more perfectly than a tree. 1 
 
 Trees again derive a special interest from 
 the venerable age they attain. In some cases, 
 no doubt, the age is more or less mythical, as, 
 for instance, the Olive of Minerva at Athens, 
 the Oaks mentioned by Pliny, "which were 
 
 1 Sir J. Paget, On the Pathology of Plants. 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 189 
 
 thought coeval with the world itself," the 
 Fig tree, " under which the wolf suckled the 
 founder of Rome and his brother, lasting (as 
 Tacitus calculated) 840 years, putting out 
 new shoots, and presaging the translation of 
 that empire from the Caesarian line, happen- 
 ing in Nero's reign." 1 But in other cases the 
 estimates rest on a surer foundation, and it 
 cannot be doubted that there are trees still 
 living which were already of considerable size 
 at the time of the Conquest. The Soma 
 Cypress of Lombardy, which is 120 feet high 
 and 23 in circumference, is calculated to go 
 back to forty years before the birth of Christ. 
 Francis the First is said to have driven his 
 sword into it in despair after the battle of 
 Padua, and Napoleon altered his road over the 
 Simplon so as to spare it. 
 
 Ferdinand and Isabella in 1476 swore 
 to maintain the privileges of the Biscayans 
 under the old Oak of Guernica. In the 
 Ardennes an Oak cut down in 1824 con- 
 tained a funeral urn and some Samnite 
 coins. A writer at the time drew the conclu- 
 
 1 Evelyn's Sylva. 
 
190 , THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 sion that it must have been already a large 
 tree when Rome was founded, and though the 
 facts do not warrant this conclusion, the tree 
 did, no doubt, go back to Pagan times. The 
 great Yew of Fountains Abbey is said to have 
 sheltered the monks when the abbey was re- 
 built in 1133, and is estimated at an age of 
 1300 years: that at Brabourne in Kent at 
 3000. De Candolle gives the following as the 
 ages attainable : 
 
 The Ivy 450 years 
 
 Larch ..... 570 " 
 
 Plane 750 
 
 Cedar of Lebanon ... 800 
 
 Lime 1100 
 
 Oak 1500 
 
 Taxodium distichum . . . 4000 to 6000 
 
 Baobab 6000 years 
 
 Nowhere is woodland scenery more beau- 
 tiful than where it passes gradually into the 
 open country. The separate trees, having 
 more room both for their roots and branches, 
 are finer, and can be better seen, while, when 
 they are close together, " one cannot see the 
 wood for the trees." The vistas which open 
 out are full of mystery and of promise, 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 191 
 
 and tempt us gradually out into the green 
 fields. 
 
 What pleasant memories these very words 
 recall, games in the hay as children, and sunny 
 summer days throughout life. 
 
 " Consider," says Ruskin, 1 " what we owe 
 to the meadow grass, to the covering of the 
 dark ground by that glorious enamel, by 
 the companies of those soft countless and 
 peaceful spears. The fields ! Follow but 
 forth for a little time the thought of all that 
 we ought to recognise in those words. All 
 spring and summer is in them the walks 
 by silent scented paths, the rests in noonday 
 heat, the joy of herds and flocks, the power 
 of all shepherd life and meditation, the life of 
 sunlight upon the world, falling in emerald 
 streaks, and soft blue shadows, where else it 
 would have struck on the dark mould or 
 scorching dust, pastures beside the pacing 
 brooks, soft banks and knolls of lowly hills, 
 thymy slopes of down overlooked by the blue 
 line of lifted sea, crisp lawns all dim with 
 early dew, or smooth in evening warmth of 
 
 1 Modern Painters. 
 
192 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 barred sunshine, dinted by happy feet, and 
 softening in their fall the sound of loving 
 voices. 
 
 " Go out, in the spring time, among the 
 meadows that slope from the shores of the 
 Swiss lakes to the roots of their lower moun- 
 tains. There, mingled with the taller gentians 
 and the white narcissus, the grass grows deep 
 and free, and as you follow the winding 
 mountain paths, beneath arching boughs all 
 veiled and dim with blossom, paths, that for 
 ever droop and rise over the green banks and 
 mounds sweeping down in scented undulation, 
 steep to the blue water, studded here and 
 there with new mown heaps, filling all the 
 air with fainter sweetness, look up towards 
 the higher hills, where the waves of everlast- 
 ing green roll silently into their long inlets 
 among the shadow r s of the pines ; and we may, 
 perhaps, at last know the meaning of those 
 quiet words of the 147th Psalm, ' He maketh 
 the grass to grow upon the mountains.' ' 
 
 "On fine days," he tells us again in his 
 Autobiography, " when the grass was dry, I 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 193 
 
 used to lie down on it, and draw the blades 
 as they grew, with the ground herbage of 
 buttercup or hawkweed mixed among them, 
 until every square foot of meadow, or mossy 
 bank, became an infinite picture and posses- 
 sion to me, and the grace and adjustment to 
 each other of growing leaves, a subject of 
 more curious interest to me than the com- 
 position of any painter's masterpieces." 
 
 In the passage above quoted, Ruskin alludes 
 especially to Swiss meadows. They are espe- 
 cially remarkable in the beauty and variety of 
 flowers. In our fields the herbage is mainly 
 grass, and if it often happens that they glow 
 with Buttercups or are white with Ox-eye- 
 daisies, these are but unwelcome intruders 
 and add nothing to the value of the hay. 
 Swiss meadows, on the contrary, are sweet 
 and lovely with wild Geraniums, Harebells, 
 Bluebells, Pink Restharrow, Yellow Lady's 
 Bedstraw, Chervil, Eyebright, Red and White 
 Silenes, Geraniums, Gentians, and many other 
 flowers which have no familiar English names ; 
 all adding not only to the beauty and sweetness 
 of the meadows, but forming a valuable part 
 
194 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 of the crop itself. 1 On the other hand " turf " 
 is peculiarly English, and no turf is more de- 
 lightful than that of our Downs delightful 
 to ride on, to sit on, or to walk on. The turf 
 indeed feels so springy under our feet that 
 walking on it seems scarcely an exertion : one 
 could almost fancy that the Downs themselves 
 were still rising, even higher, into the air. 
 
 The herbage of the Downs is close rather 
 than short, hillocks of sweet thyme, tufts of 
 golden Potentilla, of Milkwort blue, pink, 
 and white of sweet grass and Harebells : 
 here and there pink with Heather, or golden 
 with Furze or Broom, while over all are the 
 fresh air and sunshine, sweet scents, and the 
 hum of bees. And if the Downs seem full of 
 life and sunshine, their broad shoulders are 
 types of kindly strength, they give also an 
 impression of power arid antiquity, while every 
 now and then we come across a tumulus, or a 
 group of great grey stones, the burial place of 
 some ancient hero, or a sacred temple of our 
 pagan forefathers. 
 
 1 M. Correvon informs me that the Gruyere cheese is supposed 
 to owe its peculiar flavour to the alpine Alchemilla, which is now 
 on that account often purposely sown elsewhere. 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 195 
 
 On the Downs indeed things change slowly, 
 and in parts of Sussex the strong slow oxen 
 still draw the waggons laden with warm hay 
 or golden wheat sheaves, or drag the wooden 
 plough along the slopes of the Downs, just as 
 they did a thousand years ago. 
 
 I love the open Down most, but without 
 hedges England would not be England. 
 Hedges are everywhere full of beauty and 
 interest, and nowhere more so than at the 
 foot of the Downs, when they are in great 
 part composed of wild Guelder Roses and rich 
 dark Yews, decked with festoons of Travel- 
 ler's Joy, the wild Bryonies, and garlands of 
 Wild Roses covered with thousands of white 
 or delicate pink flowers, each with a centre of 
 gold. 
 
 At the foot of the Downs spring clear spark- 
 ling streams ; rain from heaven purified still 
 further by being filtered through a thousand 
 feet of chalk ; fringed with purple Loosestrife 
 and Willowherb, starred with white Water 
 Ranunculuses, or rich Watercress, while every 
 now and then a brown water rat rustles in 
 the grasses at the edge, and splashes into 
 
196 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUKE CHAP. 
 
 the water, or a pink speckled trout glides 
 out of sight. 
 
 In many of our midland and northern 
 counties most of the meadows lie in parallel 
 undulations or "rigs." These are generally 
 about a furlong (220 yards) in length, and 
 either one or two poles (51 or 11 yards) in 
 breadth. They seldom run straight, but tend 
 to curve towards the left. At each end of 
 the field a high bank, locally called a balk, 
 often 3 or 4 feet high, runs at right angles to 
 the rigs. In small fields there are generally 
 eight, but sometimes ten, of these rigs, which 
 make in the one case 4, in the other 5 acres. 
 These curious characters carry us back to the 
 old tenures, and archaic cultivation of land, 
 and to a period when the fields were not in 
 pasture, but were arable. 
 
 They also explain our curious system of 
 land measurement. The " acre " is the amount 
 which a team of oxen were supposed to plough 
 in a day. It corresponds to the German 
 " morgen " and the French " journee." The 
 furlong or long "furrow" is the distance 
 which a team of oxen can plough conven- 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 197 
 
 iently without stopping to rest. Oxen, as we 
 know, were driven not with a whip, but with 
 a goad or pole, the most convenient length for 
 which was 16i feet, and the ancient plough- 
 man used his "pole" or "perch" by placing 
 it at right angles to his first furrow, thus 
 measuring the amount he had to plough. 
 Hence our "pole" or "perch" of 161 feet, 
 which at first sight seems a very singular 
 unit to have selected. This width is also con- 
 venient both for turning the plough, and also 
 for sowing. Hence the most convenient unit 
 of land for arable purposes was a furlong in 
 length and a perch or pole in width. 
 
 The team generally consisted of eight oxen. 
 Few peasants, however, possessed a whole 
 team, several generally joining together, and 
 dividing the produce. Hence the number of 
 " rigs," one for each ox. We often, however, 
 find ten instead of eight ; one being for the 
 parson's tithe, the other tenth going to the 
 ploughman. 
 
 When eight oxen were employed the goad 
 would not of course reach the leaders, which 
 were guided by a man who walked on the 
 
198 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 near side. On arriving at the end of each 
 furrow he turned them round, and as it was 
 easier to pull than to push them, this gradu- 
 ally gave the furrow a turn towards the left, 
 thus accounting for the slight curvature. 
 Lastly, while the oxen rested on arriving at 
 the end of the furrow, the ploughmen scraped 
 off the earth which had accumulated on the 
 coulter and ploughshare, and the accumulation 
 of these scrapings gradually formed the balk. 
 
 It is fascinating thus to trace indications 
 of old customs and modes of life, but it would 
 carry us away from the present subject. 
 
 Even though the Swiss meadows may offer 
 a greater variety, our English fields are yet 
 rich in flowers : yellow with Cowslips and 
 Primroses, pink with Cuckoo flowers and 
 purple with Orchis, while, however, unwel- 
 come to the eye of the farmer, 
 
 the rich Buttercup 
 Its tiny polished urn holds up, 
 Filled with ripe summer to the edge, 1 
 
 turning many a meadow into a veritable field 
 of the cloth of gold, and there are few prettier 
 
 ij. R. Lowell. 
 
v WOODS AND FIELDS 199 
 
 sights in nature than an English hay field on 
 a summer evening, with a copse perhaps at 
 one side and a brook on the other ; men with 
 forks tossing the hay in the air to dry; 
 women with wooden rakes arranging it in 
 swathes ready for the great four-horse wag- 
 gon, or collecting it in cocks for the night ; 
 while some way off the mowers are still at 
 work, and we hear from time to time the 
 pleasant sound of the whetting of the scythe. 
 All are working with a will lest rain should 
 come and their labour be thrown away. This 
 too often happens. But though we often com- 
 plain of our English climate, it is yet, take 
 it all in all, one of the best in the world, 
 being comparatively free from extremes either 
 of heat or cold, drought or deluge. To the 
 happy mixture of sunshine and of rain we 
 owe the greenness of our fields, 
 
 sparkling with dewdrops 
 Indwelt with little angels of the Sun, l 
 
 lit and 
 
 warmed by golden sunshine 
 And fed by silver rain, 
 
 which now and again sprinkles the whole earth 
 with diamonds. 
 
 1 Hamerton. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 MOUNTAINS 
 
Mountains " seem to have been built for the human race, 
 as at once their schools and cathedrals ; full of treasures of 
 illuminated manuscript for the scholar. t kindly in simple 
 lessons for the worker, quiet in pale cloisters for the thinker, 
 glorious in holiness for the worshipper. They are great 
 cathedrals of the earth, with their gates of rock, pavements of 
 cloud, choirs of stream and stone, altars of snow, and vaults 
 of purple traversed by the continual stars." RUSKIN. 
 
UNIVERSITY 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 MOUNTAINS 
 
 THE Alps are to many of us an inexhaustible 
 source of joy and peace, of health, and even of 
 life. We have gone to them jaded and worn, 
 feeling, perhaps without any external cause, 
 anxious and out of spirits, and have returned 
 full of health, strength, and energy. Among 
 the mountains Nature herself seems freer and 
 happier, brighter and purer, than elsewhere. 
 The rush of the rivers, and the repose of the 
 lakes, the pure snowfields and majestic glaciers, 
 the fresh air, the mysterious summits of the 
 mountains, the blue haze of the distance, the 
 morning tints and the evening glow, the beauty 
 of the sky and the grandeur of the storm, have 
 all refreshed and delighted us time after time, 
 and their memories can never fade away. 
 
 203 
 
204 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Even now as I write comes back to me the 
 bright vision of an Alpine valley blue sky 
 above, glittering snow, bare grey or rich red 
 rock, dark pines here and there, mixed with 
 bright green larches, then patches of smooth 
 alp, with clumps of birch and beech, and dotted 
 with brown chalets ; then below them rock again, 
 and 'wood, but this time with more deciduous 
 trees ; and then the valley itself, with emer- 
 ald meadows, interspersed with alder copses, 
 threaded together by a silver stream ; and I 
 almost fancy I can hear the tinkling of distant 
 cowbells coming down from the alp, and the 
 delicious murmur of the rushing water. The 
 endless variety, the sense of repose and yet of 
 power, the dignity of age, the energy of youth, 
 the play of colour, the beauty of form, the 
 mystery of their origin, all combine to invest 
 mountains with a solemn beauty. 
 
 I feel with Ruskin that " mountains are the 
 beginning and the end of all natural scenery ; 
 in them, and in the forms of inferior landscape 
 that lead to them, my affections are wholly 
 bound up ; and though I can look with happy 
 admiration at the lowland flowers, and woods, 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 205 
 
 and open skies, the happiness is tranquil and 
 cold, like that of examining detached flowers 
 in a conservatory, or reading a pleasant book." 
 And of all mountain views which he has seen, 
 the finest he considers is that from the Mont- 
 anvert : " I have climbed much and wandered 
 much in the heart of the high Alps, but I have 
 never yet seen anything which equalled the 
 view from the cabin of the Montanvert." 
 
 It is no mere fancy that among mountains 
 the flowers are peculiarly large and brilliant 
 in colour. Not only are there many beautiful 
 species which are peculiar to mountains, 
 alpine Gentians, yellow, blue, and purple ; 
 alpine Rhododendrons, alpine Primroses and 
 Cowslips, alpine Lychnis, Columbine, Monks- 
 hood, Anemones, Narcissus, Campanulas, Sol- 
 danellas, and a thousand others less familiar 
 to us, but it is well established that even 
 within the limits of the same species -those 
 living up in the mountains have larger and 
 brighter flowers than their sisters elsewhere. 
 
 Various alpine species belonging to quite 
 distinct families form close moss-like cushions, 
 gemmed with star-like flowers, or covered 
 
206 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 completely with a carpet of blossom. On the 
 lower mountain slopes and in alpine valleys 
 trees seem to flourish with peculiar luxuriance. 
 Pines and Firs and Larches above ; then, as we 
 descend, Beeches and magnificent Chestnuts, 
 which seem to rejoice in the sweet, fresh air 
 and the pure mountain streams. 
 
 To any one accustomed to the rich bird life 
 of English woods and hedgerows, it must be 
 admitted that Swiss woods and Alps seem 
 rather lonely and deserted. Still the Hawk, 
 or even Eagle, soaring high up in the air, the 
 weird cry of the Marmot, and the knowledge 
 that, even if one cannot see Chamois, they 
 may all the time be looking down on us, give 
 the Alps, from this point of view also, a 
 special interest of their own. 
 
 Another great charm of mountain districts 
 is the richness of colour. " Consider, 1 first, 
 the difference produced in the whole tone of 
 landscape colour by the introductions of purple, 
 violet, and deep ultra-marine blue which we 
 owe to mountains. In an ordinary lowland 
 landscape we have the blue of the sky ; the 
 
 1 Ruskin. 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 207 
 
 green of the grass, which I will suppose (and 
 this is an unnecessary concession to the low- 
 lands) entirely fresh and bright ; the green of 
 trees ; and certain elements of purple, far 
 more rich and beautiful than we generally 
 should think, in their bark and shadows (bare 
 hedges and thickets, or tops of trees, in sub- 
 dued afternoon sunshine, are nearly perfect 
 purple and of an exquisite tone), as well as in 
 ploughed fields, and dark ground in general. 
 But among mountains, in addition to all this, 
 large unbroken spaces of pure violet and 
 purple are introduced in their distances ; and 
 even near, by films of cloud passing over the 
 darkness of ravines or forests, blues are pro- 
 duced of the most subtle tenderness ; these 
 azures and purples passing into rose colour of 
 otherwise wholly unattainable delicacy among 
 the upper summits, the blue of the sky being 
 at the same time purer and deeper than in the 
 plains. Nay, in some sense, a person who 
 has never seen the rose colour of the rays of 
 dawn crossing a blue mountain twelve or 
 fifteen miles away can hardly be said to know 
 what tenderness in colour means at all ; bright 
 
208 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 tenderness he may, indeed, see in the sky or 
 in a flower, but this grave tenderness of the 
 far-away hill-purples he cannot conceive." 
 
 " I do not know," he says elsewhere, " any 
 district possessing a more pure or uninter- 
 rupted fulness of mountain character (and 
 that of the highest order), or which appears to 
 have been less disturbed by foreign agencies, 
 than that which borders the course of the 
 Trient between Yalorsine and Martigny. The 
 paths which lead to it, out of the valley of the 
 Rhone, rising at first in steep circles among 
 the walnut trees, like winding stairs among 
 the pillars of a Gothic tower, retire over the 
 shoulders of the hills into a valley almost 
 unknown, but thickly inhabited by an indus- 
 trious and patient population. Along the 
 ridges of the rocks, smoothed by old glaciers, 
 into long, dark, billowy swellings, like the 
 backs of plunging dolphins, the peasant 
 watches the slow colouring of the tufts of moss 
 and roots of herb, which, little by little, gather 
 a feeble soil over the iron substance ; then, 
 supporting the narrow strip of clinging ground 
 with a few stones, he subdues it to the spade, 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 209 
 
 and in a year or two a little crest of corn is 
 seen waving upon the rocky casque." 
 
 Tyndall, speaking of the scene from the 
 summit of the Little Scheideck, 1 says : " The 
 upper air exhibited a commotion which we 
 did not experience ; clouds were wildly driven 
 against the flanks of the Eiger, the Jungfrau 
 thundered behind, while in- front of us a mag- 
 nificent rainbow, fixing one of its arms in the 
 valley of Grindelwald, and, throwing the 
 other right over the crown of the Wetterhorn, 
 clasped the mountain in its embrace. Through 
 jagged apertures in the clouds floods of golden 
 light were poured down the sides of the moun- 
 tain. On the slopes were innumerable chalets, 
 glistening in the sunbeams, herds browsing 
 peacefully and shaking their mellow bells ; 
 while the, blackness of the pine trees, crowded 
 into woods, or scattered in pleasant clusters 
 over alp and valley, contrasted forcibly with 
 the lively green of the fields." 
 
 Few men had more experience of moun- 
 tains than Mr. Whymper, and from him, 
 I will quote one remarkable passage de- 
 
 1 The Glaciers of the Alps. 
 
210 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 scribing the view from the summit of the 
 Matterhorn just before the terrible catastrophe 
 which overshadows the memory of his first 
 ascent. 
 
 " The day was one of those superlatively 
 calm and clear ones which usually precede 
 bad weather. The atmosphere was perfectly 
 still and free from all clouds or vapours. 
 Mountains fifty, nay, a hundred miles off 
 looked sharp and near. All their details 
 ridge and crag, snow and glacier stood out 
 with faultless definition. Pleasant thoughts 
 of happy days in bygone years came up 
 unbidden as we recognised the old familiar 
 forms. All were revealed, not one of the 
 principal peaks of the Alps was hidden. I see 
 them clearly now, the great inner circle of 
 giants, backed by the ranges, chains, and 
 massifs. ... Ten thousand feet beneath us 
 were the green fields of Zermatt, dotted with 
 chalets, from which blue smoke rose lazily. 
 Eight thousand feet below, on the other side, 
 were the pastures of Breuil. There were black 
 and gloomy forests ; bright and cheerful 
 meadows, bounding waterfalls and tranquil 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 211 
 
 lakes, fertile lands and savage wastes, sunny 
 plains and frigid plateaux. There were the 
 most rugged forms and the most graceful 
 outlines, bold perpendicular cliffs and gentle 
 undulating slopes ; rocky mountains and 
 snowy mountains, sombre and solemn, or 
 glittering and white, with walls, turrets, pin- 
 nacles, pyramids, domes, cones, and spires ! 
 There was every combination that the world 
 can give, and every contrast that the heart 
 could desire." 
 
 These were summer scenes, but the 
 Autumn and Winter again have a grandeur 
 and beauty of their own. 
 
 " Autumn is dark on the mountains ; grey 
 mist rests on the hills. The whirlwind is 
 heard on the heath. Dark rolls the river 
 through the narrow plain. The leaves twirl 
 round with the wind, and strew the grave of 
 the dead." l 
 
 Even bad weather often but enhances the 
 beauty and grandeur of mountains. When 
 the lower parts are hidden, and the peaks 
 stand out above the clouds, they look much 
 
 1 Ossian. 
 
212 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 loftier than if the whole mountain side is 
 visible. The gloom lends a weirdness and 
 mystery to the scene, while the flying clouds 
 give it additional variety. 
 
 Rain, moreover, adds vividness to the 
 colouring. The leaves and grass become a 
 brighter green, " every sunburnt rock glows 
 into an agate," and when fine weather returns 
 the new snow gives intense brilliance, and 
 invests the woods especially with the beauty 
 of Fairyland. How often in alpine districts 
 does one long "for the wings of a dove," more 
 thoroughly to enjoy and more completely to 
 explore, the mysteries and recesses of the 
 mountains. The mind, however, can go, even 
 if the body must remain behind. 
 
 Each hour of the day has a beauty of its 
 own. The mornings and evenings again glow 
 with different and even richer tints. 
 
 In mountain districts the cloud effects are 
 brighter and more varied than in flatter 
 regions. The morning and evening tints are 
 seen to the greatest advantage, and clouds 
 floating high in the heavens sometimes glitter 
 with the most exquisite iridescent hues 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 213 
 
 that blush and glow 
 Like angels' wings. 1 
 
 On low ground one may be in the clouds, 
 but not above them. But as we look down 
 from mountains and see the clouds floating 
 far below us, we almost seem as if we were 
 looking down on earth from one of the heav- 
 enly bodies. 
 
 Not even in the Alps is there anything 
 more beautiful than the "after glow" which 
 lights up the snow and ice with a rosy tint 
 for some time after the sun has set. Long 
 after the lower slopes are already in the shade, 
 the summit of Mont Blanc for instance is 
 transfigured by the light of the setting sun 
 glowing on the snow. It seems almost like 
 a light from another world, and vanishes as 
 suddenly and mysteriously as it came. 
 
 As we look up from the valleys the 
 mountain peaks seem Hke separate pinnacles 
 projecting far above the general level. This, 
 however, is a very erroneous impression, and 
 when we examine the view from the top of 
 any of the higher mountains, or even from 
 
 1 Bullar, Azores. 
 
214 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 one of very moderate elevation, if well placed, 
 such say as the well-known Piz Languard, we 
 see that in many cases they must have once 
 formed a dome, or even a table land, out of 
 which the valleys have been carved. Many 
 mountain chains were originally at least twice 
 as high as they are now, and the highest 
 peaks are those which have suffered least 
 from the wear and tear of time. 
 
 We used to speak of the everlasting hills, 
 and are only beginning to realise the vast 
 and many changes which our earth has un- 
 dergone. 
 
 There rolls the deep where grew the tree. 
 
 O earth, what changes hast thou seen ! 
 
 There where the long street roars, hath been 
 The stillness of the central sea. 
 
 The hills are shadows, and they flow 
 
 From form to form, and nothing stands; 
 They melt like mist, the solid lands, 
 
 Like clouds they shape themselves and go. 1 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF MOUNTAINS 
 
 Geography moreover acquires' a new in- 
 terest when we once realise that mountains 
 
 1 Tennyson. 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 215 
 
 are no mere accidents, but that for every 
 mountain chain, for every peak and valley, 
 there is a cause and an explanation. 
 
 The origin of Mountains is a question of 
 much interest. The building up of Volcanoes 
 is even now going on before our eyes. Some 
 others, the Dolomites for instance, have been 
 regarded by Richthofen and other geologists 
 as ancient coral islands. The long lines of 
 escarpment which often stretch for miles across 
 country, are now ascertained, mainly through 
 the researches of Whitaker, to be due to the 
 differential action of aerial causes. The gen- 
 eral origin of mountain chains, however, was 
 at first naturally enough attributed to direct 
 upward pressure from below. To attribute 
 them in any way to subsidence seems almost 
 a paradox, and yet it appears to be now well 
 established that the general cause is lateral 
 compression, due to contraction of the under- 
 lying mass. The earth, we know, has been 
 gradually cooling, and as it contracted in doing 
 so, the strata of the crust would necessarily be 
 thrown into folds. When an apple dries and 
 shrivels in winter, the surface becomes covered 
 
216 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 with ridges. Or again, if we place some sheets 
 of paper between two weights on a table, and 
 then bring the weights nearer together, the 
 paper will be crumpled up. 
 
 In the same way let us take a section of 
 the earth's surface AB (Fig. 17), and suppose 
 that, by the gradual cooling and consequent 
 contraction of the mass, AB sinks to A'B', 
 
 Fig. 17. Adapted from Ball's paper " On the Formation of Alpine Valleys 
 and Lakes," Land, and Ed. Phil. Mag. 1863, p. 96. 
 
 then to A"B", and finally to A'"B'". Of 
 course if the cooling of the surface and of the 
 deeper portion were the same, then the strata 
 between A and B would themselves contract, 
 and might consequently still form a regular 
 curve between A"' and B'". As a matter of 
 fact, however, the strata at the surface of our 
 globe have long since approached a constant 
 temperature. Under these circumstances 
 there would be no contraction of the strata 
 between A and B corresponding to that of 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 217 
 
 those in the interior, and consequently they 
 could not lie flat between A'" and B"', but 
 must be thrown into folds, commencing along 
 any line of least resistance. Sometimes in- 
 deed the strata are completely inverted, as 
 in Fig. 19, and in other cases they have 
 been squeezed for miles out of their original 
 position. This explanation was first, I be- 
 lieve, suggested by Steno. It has been re- 
 cently developed by Ball arid Suess, and espe- 
 cially by Heim. In this manner it is probable 
 that most mountain chains originated. 1 
 
 The structure of mountain districts confirms 
 this theoretical explanation. It is obvious 
 of course that when strata are thrown into 
 folds, they will, if strained too much, give 
 way at the summit of the fold. Before doing 
 so, however, they are stretched and conse- 
 quently loosened, while on the other hand the 
 strata at the bottom of the fold are compressed : 
 the former, therefore, are rendered more sus- 
 ceptible of disintegration, the latter on the 
 contrary acquire greater powers of resistance. 
 
 1 See especially Helm's great work, Unt. u. d. Mechanismus 
 der Gebirgsbildung. 
 
218 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vi 
 
 Hence denudation will act with more effect 
 on the upper than on the lower portion 
 of the folds, and if continued long enough, 
 so that, as shown in the above diagram, the 
 dotted portion is removed, we find the origi- 
 nal hill tops replaced by valleys, and the origi- 
 nal valleys forming the hill tops. Every 
 visitor to Switzerland must have noticed hills 
 where the strata lie as shown in parts of Fig. 
 18, and where it is obvious that strata corre- 
 sponding to those in dots must have been origi- 
 nally present. 
 
 In the Jura, for instance, a glance at any 
 good map of the district will show a succes- 
 sion of ridges running parallel to one another 
 in a slightly curved line from S.W. to N.E. 
 That these ridges are due to folds of the 
 earth's surface is clear from the following 
 figure in Jaccard's work on the Geology of the 
 Jura, showing a section from Brenets due 
 couth to Neuchatel by Le Locle. These folds 
 are comparatively slight and the hills of no 
 great height. Further south, however, the 
 strata are much more violently dislocated and 
 compressed together. The Mont Saleve is the 
 remnant of one of these ridges. 
 

220 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vi 
 
 In the Alps the contortions are much 
 greater than in the Jura. Fig. 19 shows a 
 section after Heim, from the Spitzen across 
 the Brunnialp, and the Maderanerthal. It 
 is obvious that the valleys are due mainly to 
 erosion, that the Maderaner valley has been 
 cut out of the crystalline rocks s, and was 
 once covered by the Jurassic strata j, which 
 must have formerly passed in a great arch 
 over what is now the valley. 
 
 However improbable it may seem that so 
 great an amount of rock should have dis- 
 appeared, evidence is conclusive. Ramsay has 
 shown that in some parts of Wales not less 
 than 29,000 feet have been removed, while 
 there is strong reason for the belief that in 
 Switzerland an amount has been carried away 
 equal to the present height of the mountains ; 
 though of course it does not follow that the 
 Alps were once twice as high as they are at 
 present, because elevation and erosion must 
 have gone on contemporaneously. 
 
 It has been calculated that the strata 
 between Bale and the St. Gotthard have 
 been compressed from 202 miles to 130 
 
222 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 miles, the Ardennes from 50 to 25 miles, 
 and the Appalachians from 153 miles to 
 65 ! Prof. Gumbel has recently expressed 
 the opinion that the main force to which 
 the elevation of the Alps was due acted 
 along the main axis of elevation. Exactly 
 the opposite inference would seem really to 
 follow from the facts. If the centre of force 
 were along the axis of elevation, the result 
 would, as Suess and Heim have pointed out, 
 be to extend, not to compress, the strata; 
 and the folds would remain quite unaccounted 
 for. The suggestion of compression is on the 
 contrary consistent with the main features of 
 Swiss geography. The principal axis follows 
 a curved line from the Maritime Alps towards 
 the north-east by Mont Blanc and Monte 
 Rosa and St. Gotthard to the mountains over- 
 looking the Engadine. The geological strata 
 follow the same direction. North of a line 
 running through Chambery, Yverdun, Neu- 
 chatel, Solothurn, and Olten to-Waldshut on 
 the Rhine are Jurassic strata ; between that 
 line and a second nearly parallel and running 
 through Annecy, Vevey, Lucerne, Wesen, 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 223 
 
 Appenzell, and Bregenz on the Lake of Con- 
 stance, is the lowland occupied by later 
 Tertiary strata ; between this second line 
 and another passing through Albertville, St. 
 Maurice, Lenk, Meiringen, and Altdorf lies a 
 more or less broken band of older Tertiary 
 strata ; south of which are a Cretaceous zone, 
 one of Jurassic age, then a band of crystalline 
 rocks, while the central core, so to say, of the 
 Alps, as for instance at St. Gotthard, consists 
 mainly of gneiss or granite. The sedimentary 
 deposits reappear south of the Alps, and in 
 the opinion of some high authorities, as, for 
 instance, of Bonney and Heim, passed con- 
 tinuously over the intervening regions. The 
 last great upheaval commenced after the 
 Miocene period, and continued through the 
 Pliocene. Miocene strata attain in the Eighi 
 a height of 6000 feet. 
 
 For neither the hills nor the mountains are 
 everlasting, or of the same age. 
 
 The Welsh mountains are older than the 
 Yosges, the Yosges than the Pyrenees, the Pyr- 
 enees than the Alps, and the Alps than the 
 Andes, which indeed are still rising ; so that 
 
224 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 if our English mountains are less imposing 
 so far as mere height is concerned, they are 
 most venerable from their great antiquity. 
 
 But though the existing Alps are in one 
 sense, and speaking geologically, very recent, 
 there is strong reason for believing that there 
 was a chain of lofty mountains there long 
 previously. " The first indication," says Judd, 
 " of the existence of a line of weakness in this 
 portion of the earth's crust is found towards 
 the close of the Permian period, when a series 
 of volcanic outbursts on the very grandest 
 scale took place " along a line nearly follow- 
 ing that of the present Alps, and led to the 
 formation of a range of mountains, which, in 
 his opinion, must have been at least 8000 to 
 9000 feet high. Ramsay and Bonney have 
 also given strong reasons for believing 
 that the present line of the Alps was, at a 
 still earlier period, occupied by a range 
 of mountains no less lofty than those of 
 to-day. Thus then, though the present Alps 
 are comparatively speaking so recent, there 
 are good grounds for the belief that they were 
 preceded by one or more earlier ranges, once 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 225 
 
 as lofty as they are now, but which were more 
 or less completely levelled by the action of air 
 and water, just as is happening now to the 
 present mountain ranges. 
 
 Movements of elevation and subsidence are 
 still going on in various parts of the world. 
 Scandinavia is rising in the north, and sink- 
 ing at the south. South America is rising on 
 the west and sinking in the east, rotating in 
 fact on its axis, like some stupendous pendu- 
 lum. 
 
 The crushing and folding of the strata to 
 which mountain chains are due, and of which 
 the Alps afford such marvellous illustrations, 
 necessarily give rise to Earthquakes, and the 
 slight shocks so frequent in parts of Switzer- 
 land 1 appear to indicate that the forces which 
 have raised the Alps are not yet entirely spent, 
 and that slow subterranean movements are still 
 in progress along the flanks of the mountains. 
 
 But if the mountain chains are due to com- 
 pression, the present valleys are mainly the 
 result of denudation. As soon as a mountain 
 range is once raised, all nature seems to con- 
 
 1 In the last 150 years more than 1000 are recorded. 
 Q 
 
226 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 spire against it. Sun and Frost, Heat and 
 Cold, Air and Water, Ice and Snow, every 
 plant, from the Lichen to the Oak, and every 
 animal, from the Worm to Man himself, com- 
 bine to attack it. Water, however, is the 
 most powerful agent of all. The autumn rains 
 saturate every pore and cranny ; the water as 
 it freezes cracks and splits the hardest rocks ; 
 while the spring sun melts the snow and swells 
 the rivers, which in their turn carry off the 
 debris to the plains. 
 
 Perhaps, however, it would after all be more 
 correct to say that Nature, like some great 
 artist, carves the shapeless block into form, and 
 endows the rude mass with life and beauty. 
 
 " What more," said Hutton long ago, ." is 
 required to explain the configuration of our 
 mountains and valleys ? Nothing but time. 
 It is not any part of the process that will be 
 disputed ; but, after allowing all the parts, the 
 whole will be denied ; and for what ? Only 
 because we are not disposed to allow that 
 quantity of time which the absolution of so 
 much wasted mountain might require." 
 
 The tops of the Swiss mountains stand, 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 227 
 
 and since their elevation have probably 
 always stood, above the range of ice, and 
 hence their bold peaks. In Scotland, on 
 the contrary, and still more in Norway, the 
 sheet of ice which once, as is the case with 
 Greenland now, spread over the whole coun- 
 try, has shorn off the summits and reduced 
 them almost to gigantic bosses ; while in 
 Wales the same causes, together with the 
 resistless action of time for, as already 
 mentioned, the Welsh hills are far older 
 than the mountains of Switzerland has 
 ground down the once lofty summits and 
 reduced them to mere stumps, such as, if 
 the present forces are left to work out their 
 results, the Swiss mountains will be thou- 
 sands, or rather tens of thousands, of years 
 hence. 
 
 The " snow line " in Switzerland is gener- 
 ally given as being between 8500 and 9000 
 feet. Above this level the snow or neve 
 gradually accumulates until it forms " glac- 
 iers," solid rivers of ice which descend more 
 or less far down the valleys. No one who 
 has not seen a glacier can possibly realise 
 
CHAP, vi MOUNTAINS 229 
 
 what they are like. Fig. 20 represents the 
 glacier of the Bliimlis Alp, and the Plate 
 the Mer de Glace. 
 
 They are often very beautiful. " Mount 
 Beerenberg," says Lord Dufferin, " in size, 
 colour, and effect far surpassed anything I 
 had anticipated. The glaciers were quite 
 an unexpected element of beauty. Imagine 
 a mighty river, of as great a volume as the 
 Thames, started down the side of a moun- 
 tain, bursting over every impediment, whirled 
 into a thousand eddies, tumbling and rag- 
 ing on from ledge to ledge in quivering 
 cataracts of foam, then suddenly struck 
 rigid by a power so instantaneous in its 
 action that even the froth and fleeting 
 wreaths of spray have stiffened to the immu- 
 tability of sculpture. Unless you had seen 
 it, it would be almost impossible to conceive 
 the strangeness of the contrast between the 
 actual tranquillity of these silent crystal 
 rivers and the violent descending energy 
 impressed upon their exterior. You must 
 remember too all this is upon a scale of such 
 prodigious magnitude, that when we sue- 
 
230 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 ceeded subsequently in approaching the spot 
 where with a leap like that of Niagara 
 one of these glaciers plunges down into the 
 sea the eye, no longer able to take in its 
 fluvial character, was content to rest in 
 simple astonishment at what then appeared 
 a lucent precipice of grey-green ice, rising 
 to the height of several hundred feet above 
 the masts of the vessel." 1 
 
 The cliffs above glaciers shower down 
 fragments of rock which gradually accu- 
 mulate at the sides and at the end of 
 the glaciers, forming mounds known as 
 " moraines." Many ancient moraines occur 
 far beyond the present region of glaciers. 
 
 In considering the condition of alpine 
 valleys we must remember that the glaciers 
 formerly descended much further than they 
 do at present. The glaciers of the Rhone 
 for instance occupied the whole of the Valais, 
 filled the Lake of Geneva or rather the 
 site now occupied by that lake and rose 
 2000 feet up the slopes of the Jura ; the 
 Upper Ticino, and contributory valleys, were 
 
 1 Letters from High Latitudes. 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 231 
 
 occupied by another which filled the basin 
 of the Lago Maggiore ; a third occupied the 
 valley of the Dora Baltea, and has left a 
 moraine at Ivrea some twenty miles long, and 
 which rises no less than 1500 feet above the 
 present level of the river. The Scotch and 
 Scandinavian valleys were similarly filled 
 by rivers of ice/ which indeed at one time 
 covered the whole country with an immense 
 sheet, as Greenland is at present. Enor- 
 mous blocks of stone, the Pierre a Niton 
 at Geneva and the Pierre a Bot above 
 Neuchatel, for instance, were carried by 
 these glaciers for miles and miles ; and many 
 of the stones in the Norfolk cliffs were 
 brought by ice from Norway (perhaps, how- 
 ever, by Icebergs), across what is now the 
 German Ocean. Again wherever the rocks 
 are hard enough to have withstood the 
 weather, we find them polished and ground, 
 just as, and even more so than, those at the 
 ends and sides of existing glaciers. 
 
 The most magnificent glacier tracks in the 
 Alps are, in Ruskin's opinion, those on the 
 rocks of the great angle opposite Martigny ; 
 
232 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 the most interesting those above the channel 
 of the Trient between Valorsine and the valley 
 of the Rhone. 
 
 In Great Britain I know no better illus- 
 tration of ice action than is to be seen on the 
 road leading down from Glen Quoich to Loch 
 Hourn, one of the most striking examples of 
 desolate and savage scenery in Scotland. Its 
 name in Celtic is said to mean the Lake of 
 Hell. All along the roadside are smoothed 
 and polished hummocks of rock, most of them 
 deeply furrowed with approximately parallel 
 striae, presenting a gentle slope on the upper 
 end, and a steep side below, clearly showing 
 the direction of the great ice flow. 
 
 Many of the upper Swiss valleys contain 
 lakes, as, for instance, that of the Upper 
 Rhone, the Lake of Geneva, of the Reuss, the 
 Lake of Lucerne, of the Rhine, that of Con- 
 stance. These lakes are generally very deep. 
 
 The colour of the upper rivers, which are 
 white with the diluvium from the glaciers, is 
 itself evidence of the erosive powers which 
 they exercise. This finely-divided matter is, 
 however, precipitated in the lakes, which, as 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 233 
 
 well as the rivers issuing from them, are a 
 beautiful rich blue. 
 
 "Is it not probable that this action of 
 finely-divided niatter may have some influ- 
 ence on the colour of some of the Swiss lakes 
 - as that of Geneva for example ? This lake 
 is simply an expansion of the river Rhone, 
 which rushes from the end of the Rhone 
 glacier, as the Arveiron does from the end of 
 the Mer de Glace. Numerous other streams 
 join the Rhone right and left during its 
 downward course; and these feeders, being 
 almost wholly derived from glaciers, join the 
 Rhone charged with the finer matter which 
 these in their motion have ground from the 
 rocks over which they have passed. But the 
 glaciers must grind the mass beneath them 
 to particles of all sizes, and I cannot help 
 thinking that the finest of them must remain 
 suspended in the lake throughout its entire 
 length. Faraday has shown that a precipi- 
 tate of gold may require months to sink to 
 the bottom of a bottle not more than five 
 inches high, and in all probability it would 
 require ages of calm subsidence to bring all 
 
234 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUJRE CHAP. 
 
 the particles which the Lake of Geneva con- 
 tains to its bottom. It seems certainly worthy 
 of examination whether such particles sus- 
 pended in the water contribute to the pro- 
 duction of that magnificent blue which has 
 excited the admiration of all who have seen 
 it under favourable circumstances." 1 
 
 Among the Swiss mountains themselves 
 each has its special character. Tyndall thus 
 describes a view in the Alps, certainly one of 
 the most beautiful that, namely, from the 
 summit of the ^Egischhorn. 
 
 "Skies and summits are to-day without a 
 cloud, and no mist or turbidity interferes 
 with the sharpness of the outlines. Jung- 
 frau, Monk, Eiger, Trugberg, cliffy Strahlgrat, 
 stately lady-like Aletschhorn, all grandly 
 pierce the empyrean. Like a Saul of Moun- 
 tains, the Finsteraarhorn overtops all his 
 neighbours ; then we have the Oberaarhorn, 
 with the riven glacier of Viesch rolling from 
 his shoulders. Below is the Marjelin See, 
 Avith its crystal precipices and its floating ice- 
 bergs, snowy white, sailing on a blue green 
 
 1 Glaciers of the Alps. 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 235 
 
 sea. Beyond is the range which divides the 
 Valais from Italy. Sweeping round, the 
 vision meets an aggregate of peaks which look 
 as fledglings to their mother towards the 
 mighty Dom. Then come the repellent crags 
 of Mont Cervin ; the ideal of moral savagery, 
 of wild untameable ferocity, mingling involun- 
 tarily with our contemplation of the gloomy 
 pile. Next comes an object, scarcely less 
 grand, conveying, it may be, even a deeper 
 impression of majesty and might than the 
 Matterhorn itself the Weisshorn, perhaps 
 the most splendid object in the Alps. But 
 beauty is associated with its force, and we 
 think of it, not as cruel, but as grand and 
 strong. Further to the right the great 
 Combin lifts up his bare head; other peaks 
 crowd around him ; while at the extremity of 
 the curve round which our gaze has swept 
 rises the sovran crown of Mont Blanc. And 
 now, as day sinks, scrolls of pearly clouds 
 draw themselves around the mountain crests, 
 being wafted from them into the distant air. 
 They are without colour of any kind ; still, by 
 grace of form, and as the embodiment of 
 
236 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 lustrous light and most tender shade, their 
 beauty is not to be described." 1 
 
 VOLCANOES 
 
 Volcanoes belong to a totally different 
 series of mountains. 
 
 It is practically impossible to number the 
 Volcanoes on our earth. Humboldt enumer- 
 ated 223, which Keith Johnston raised to 
 nearly 300. Some, no doubt, are always 
 active, but in the majority the eruptions are 
 occasional, and though some are undoubtedly 
 now extinct, it is impossible in all cases to 
 distinguish those which are only in repose 
 from those whose day of activity is over. 
 Then, again, the question would arise, which 
 should be regarded as mere subsidiary cones 
 and which are separate volcanoes. The 
 slopes of Etna present more than 700 small 
 cones, and on Hawaii there are several 
 thousands. In fact, most of the very lofty 
 volcanoes present more or less lateral cones. 
 
 The molten matter, welling up through 
 
 1 Mountaineering in 1861. 
 
VI 
 
 MOUNTAINS 
 
 237 
 
 some fissure, gradually builds itself up into 
 a cone, often of the most beautiful regularity, 
 such as the gigantic peaks of Chimporazo, 
 Cotopaxi (Fig. 21), and Fusiyama, and hence 
 it is that the crater is so often at, or very 
 near, the summit. 
 
 Perhaps no spectacle in Nature is more 
 magnificent than a Volcano in activity. It 
 has been my good fortune to have stood 
 
 Fig. 21. Cotopaxi. 
 
 more than once at the edge of the crater 
 of Vesuvius during an eruption, to have 
 watched the lava seething below, while enor- 
 mous stones were shot up high into the air. 
 Such a spectacle can never be forgotten. 
 
238 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vi 
 
 The most imposing crater in the world is 
 probably that of Kilauea, at a height of 
 about 4000 feet on the side of Mouna Loa, 
 in the Island of Hawaii. It has a diameter 
 of 2 miles, and is elliptic in outline, with a 
 longer axis of about 3, and a circumference 
 of about 7 miles. The interior is a great 
 lake of lava, the level of which is constantly 
 changing. Generally, it stands about 800 
 feet below the edge, and the depth is about 
 1400 feet. The heat is intense, and, espe- 
 cially at night, when the clouds are coloured 
 scarlet by the reflection from the molten 
 lava, the effect is said to be magnificent. 
 Gradually the lava mounts in the crater 
 until it either bursts through the side or 
 runs over the edge, after which the crater 
 remains empty, sometimes for years. 
 
 A lava stream flows down the slope of 
 the mountain like a burning river, at first 
 rapidly, but as it cools, scoriae gradually 
 form, and at length the molten matter 
 covers itself completely (Fig. 22), both above 
 and at the sides, with a solid crust, within 
 which, as in a tunnel,, it continues to flow 
 
Fig. 22. Lava Stream. 
 
240 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 slowly as long as it is supplied from the 
 source, here and there breaking through the 
 crust which, as continually., re-forms in front. 
 Thus the terrible, inexorable river of fire 
 slowly descends, destroying everything in 
 its course. 
 
 The stream of lava which burst from 
 Mouna Loa in 1885 had a length of 70 miles; 
 that of Skaptar-Jokul in Iceland in 1783 had 
 a length of 50 miles, and a maximum depth 
 of nearly 500 feet. It has been calculated that 
 the mass of lava equalled that of Mont Blanc. 
 
 The stones, ashes, and mud ejected during 
 eruptions are even more destructive than the 
 rivers of lava. In 1851 Tomboro, a volcano 
 on the Island of Sumbava, cost more lives 
 than fell in the battle of Waterloo. The 
 earthquake of Lisbon in 1755 destroyed 
 60,000 persons. During the earthquake of 
 Riobamba and the mud eruption of Tungu- 
 ragua, and again in that of Krakatoa, it is 
 estimated that the number who perished was 
 between 30,000 and 40,000. At the earth- 
 quake of Antioch in 526 no less than 200,000 
 persons are said to have lost their lives. 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 241 
 
 Perhaps the most destructive eruption of 
 modern times has been that on Cosequina. 
 For 25 miles it covered the ground with 
 muddy water 16 feet in depth. The dust 
 and ashes formed a dense cloud, extending 
 over many miles, some of it being carried 20 
 degrees to the west. The total mass ejected 
 has been estimated at 60 milliards of square 
 yards. 
 
 Stromboli, in the Mediterranean (Fig. 23), 
 though only 2500 feet in height, is very im- 
 posing from its superb regularity, and its 
 roots plunge below the surface to a depth of 
 4000 feet. 
 
 It is, moreover, very interesting from the 
 regularity of its action, which has a period 
 of 5 minutes or a little less. On looking 
 down into the crater one sees at a depth of 
 say 300 feet a seething mass of red-hot lava ; 
 this gradually rises, and then explodes, throw- 
 ing up a cloud of vapour and stones, after 
 which it sinks again. So regular is it that 
 the Volcano has been compared to a "flashing" 
 lighthouse, and this wonderful process has 
 been going on for ages. 
 
CHAP, vi MOUNTAINS 243 
 
 Though long extinct, volcanoes once existed 
 in the British Isles ; Arthur's Seat, near 
 Edinburgh, for instance, appears to be the 
 funnel of a small volcano, belonging to the 
 Carboniferous period. 
 
 The summit of a volcanic mountain is 
 sometimes entirely blown away. Between 
 my first two visits to Vesuvius 200 feet of the 
 mountain had thus disappeared. Vesuvius 
 itself stands in a more ancient crater, part 
 of which still remains, and is now known as 
 Somma, the greater portion having disap- 
 peared in the great eruption of 79, when the 
 mountain, waking from its long sleep, de- 
 stroyed Herculaneum and Pompeii. 
 
 As regards the origin of volcanoes there 
 have been two main theories. Impressed by 
 the magnitude and grandeur of the phenom- 
 ena, enhanced as they are by their destruc- 
 tive character, many have been disposed to 
 regard the craters of volcanoes as gigantic 
 chimneys, passing right through the solid 
 crust of the globe, and communicating with 
 a central fire. Eecent researches, however, 
 have indicated that, grand and imposing as 
 
244 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 they are, volcanoes must yet be regarded as 
 due mainly to local and superficial causes. 
 
 A glance at the map shows that volcanoes 
 are almost always situated on, or near, the sea 
 coast. From the interior of continents they 
 are entirely wanting. The number of active 
 volcanoes in the Andes, contrasted with their 
 absence in the Alps and Ourals, the Hima- 
 layas, and Central Asian chains, is very strik- 
 ing. Indeed, the Pacific Ocean is encircled, 
 as Ritter has pointed out, by a ring of fire. 
 Beginning with New Zealand, we have the 
 Volcanoes of Tongariro, Whakaii, etc. ; thence 
 the circle passes through the Fiji Islands, Sol- 
 omon Islands, New Guinea, Timor, Flores, 
 Sumbava, Lombock, Java, Sumatra, the Philip- 
 pines, Japan, the Aleutian Islands, along the 
 Rocky Mountains, Mexico, Peru, and Chili, to 
 Tierra del Fuego, and, in the far south, to the 
 two great Volcanoes of Erebus and Terror on 
 Victoria Land. 
 
 We know that the contraction of the 
 Earth's surface with the strains and fractures, 
 the compression and folds, which must inevi- 
 tably result, is still in operation, and must 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 245 
 
 give rise to areas of high temperature, and 
 consequently to volcanoes. We must also 
 remember that the real mountain chains of 
 our earth are the continents, compared to 
 which even the Alps and Andes are mere 
 wrinkles. It is along the lines of the great 
 mountain chains, that is to say, along the 
 main coast lines, rather than in the centres of 
 the continents, which may be regarded as com- 
 paratively quiescent, that we should naturally 
 expect to find the districts of greatest heat, 
 and this is perhaps why volcanoes are gener- 
 ally distributed along the coast lines. 
 
 Another reason for regarding Volcanoes as 
 local phenomena is that many even of those 
 comparatively near one another act quite 
 independently. This is so with Kilauea and 
 Mouna Loa, both on the small island of 
 Hawaii. 
 
 Again, if volcanoes were in connection 
 with a great central sea of fire, the erup- 
 tions must follow the same laws as regulate 
 the tides. This, however, is not the case. 
 There are indeed indications of the exist- 
 ence of slight tides in the molten lake which 
 
246 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 underlies Vesuvius, and during the eruption 
 of 1865 there was increased activity twice 
 a day, as we should expect to find in any 
 great fluid reservoir, but very different indeed 
 from what must have been the case if the 
 mountain was in connection with a central 
 ocean of molten matter. 
 
 Indeed, unless the " crust " of our earth 
 was of great thickness we should be subject 
 to perpetual earthquakes. No doubt these 
 are far more frequent than is generally 
 supposed ; indeed, with our improved in- 
 struments it can be shown that instead of 
 occasional vibrations, with long intermediate 
 periods of rest, we have in reality short 
 intervals of rest with long periods of vibra- 
 tion, or rather perhaps that the crust of the 
 earth is in constant tremor, with more 
 violent oscillation from time to time. 
 
 It appears, moreover, that earthquakes 
 are not generally deep-seated. The point at 
 which the shock is vertical can be ascer- 
 tained, and it is also possible in some cases 
 to determine the angle at which it emerges 
 elsewhere. When this has been done it has 
 
vi MOUNTAINS 247 
 
 always been found that the seat of disturb- 
 ance must have been within 30 geographical 
 miles of the surface. 
 
 Yet, though we cannot connect volcanic 
 action with the central heat of the earth, 
 but must regard it as a minor and local 
 manifestation of force, volcanoes still remain 
 among the grandest, most awful, and at the 
 same time most magnificent spectacles which 
 the earth can afford. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 WATER 
 
Of all inorganic substances, acting in their own proper 
 nature, and without assistance or combination, water is the 
 most wonderful. If we think of it as the source of all the 
 changefulness and beauty which we have seen in the clouds ; 
 then as the instrument by which the earth we have contem- 
 plated was modelled into symmetry, and its crags chiselled 
 into grace ; then as, in the form of snow, it robes the moun- 
 tains it has made, with that transcendent light which we 
 could not have conceived if we had not seen ; then as it 
 exists in the foam of the torrent, in the iris which spans it, 
 in the morning mist which rises from it, in the deep crystal- 
 line pools which mirror its hanging shore, in the broad lake 
 and glancing river, finally, in that which is to all human 
 minds the best emblem of unwearied, unconquerable power, 
 the wild, various, fantastic, tameless unity of the sea; what 
 shall we compare to this mighty, this universal element, for 
 glory and for beauty ? or how shall we follow its eternal 
 cheerfulness of feeling? It is like trying to paint a soul. 
 
 RUSKIN. 
 
/?> OF THE 
 
 *7 "X . *?sj Y3 ~*'' T ^ "tT * 
 
 ** /> ., 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 WATER 
 
 IN the legends of ancient times running 
 water was proof against all sorcery and 
 witchcraft : 
 
 No spell could stay the living tide 
 Or charm the rushing stream. 1 
 
 There was much truth as well as beauty in 
 this idea. 
 
 Flowing waters, moreover, have not only 
 power to wash out material stains, but they 
 also clear away the cobwebs of the brain 
 the results of over incessant work and re- 
 store us to health and strength. 
 
 Snowfields and glaciers, mountain torrents, 
 sparkling brooks, and stately rivers, meres 
 and lakes, and last, not least, the great ocean 
 itself, all alike possess this magic power. 
 
 1 Leyden. 
 
 251 
 
252 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 "When I would beget content/' says Izaak 
 Walton, "and increase confidence in the 
 power and wisdom and providence of Al- 
 mighty God, I will walk the meadows by 
 some gliding stream, and there contemplate 
 the lilies that take no care, and those very 
 many other little living creatures that are 
 not only created, but fed (man knows not 
 how) by the goodness of the God of Nature, 
 and therefore trust in Him;" and in his 
 quaint old language he craves a special bless- 
 ing on all those " that are true lovers of 
 virtue, and dare trust in His Providence, and 
 be quiet, and go a angling." 
 
 At the water's edge flowers are especially 
 varied and luxuriant, so that the batiks of a 
 river are a long natural garden of tall and 
 graceful grasses and sedges, the Meadow 
 Sweet, the Flowering Rush, the sweet Flag, 
 the Bull Rush, Purple Loosestrife, Hemp 
 Agrimony, Dewberry, Forget-me-not, and a 
 hundred more, backed by Willows, Alders, 
 Poplars, and other trees. 
 
 The Animal world, if less conspicuous to 
 the eye, is quite as fascinating to the imagina- 
 
vii WATER 253 
 
 tion. Here and there a speckled Trout may 
 be detected (rather by the shadow than the 
 substance) suspended in the clear water, or 
 darting across a shallow ; if we are quiet we 
 may see Water Hens or Wild Ducks swim- 
 ming among the lilies, a Kingfisher. sitting on 
 a branch or flashing away like a gleam of 
 light ; a solemn Heron stands maybe at the 
 water's edge, or slowly rises flapping his 
 great wings ; Water Rats, neat and clean 
 little creatures, very different from their 
 coarse brown namesakes of the land, are 
 abundant everywhere ; nor need we even yet 
 quite despair of seeing the Otter himself. 
 
 Insects of course are gay, lively, and in- 
 numerable ; but after all the richest fauna is 
 that visible only with a microscope. 
 
 " To gaze," says Dr. Hudson, " into that 
 wonderful world which lies in a drop of 
 water, crossed by some stems of green weed, 
 to see transparent living mechanism at work, 
 and to gain some idea of its modes of action, 
 to watch a tiny speck that can sail through 
 the prick of a needle's point ; to see its 
 crystal armour flashing with ever varying 
 
254 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 tint, its head glorious with the halo of its 
 quivering cilia ; to see it gliding through the 
 emerald stems, hunting for its food, snatching 
 at its prey, fleeing from its enemy, chasing its 
 mate (the fiercest of our passions blazing in 
 an invisible speck) ; to see it whirling in a 
 mad dance, to the sound of its own music, 
 the music of its happiness, the exquisite happi- 
 ness of living can any one, who has once 
 enjoyed this sight, ever turn from it to mere 
 books and drawings, without the sense that 
 lie has left all Fairyland behind him?" l 
 
 The study of Natural History has indeed 
 the special advantage of carrying us into the 
 country and the open air. 
 
 Lakes are even more restful than rivers or 
 the sea. Rivers are always flowing, though 
 it may be but slowly ; the sea may rest 
 awhile, now and then, but is generally full of 
 action and energy ; while lakes seem to sleep 
 and dream. Lakes in a beautiful country are 
 like silver ornaments on a lovely dress, like 
 liquid gems in a beautiful setting, or bright 
 eyes in a lovely face. Indeed as we gaze 
 
 1 Dr. Hudson, Address to the Microscopical Society, 1889. 
 
vii WATER 255 
 
 down on a lake from some hill or cliff it 
 almost looks solid, like some great blue 
 crystal. 
 
 It is not merely for purposes of commerce 
 or convenience that men love to live near 
 rivers. 
 
 Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink 
 Of Trent or Avon have my dwelling-place ; 
 
 Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink, 
 With eager bite of pike, or bleak, or dace , 
 
 And on the world and my Creator think : 
 
 While some men strive ill-gotten goods t' embrace : 
 
 And others spend their time in base excess 
 
 Of wine ; or worse, in war, or wantonness. 
 
 Let them that will, these pastimes still pursue, 
 And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill : 
 
 So I the fields and meadows green may view 
 And daily by fresh rivers walk at will, 
 
 Among the daisies and the violets blue, 
 Red hyacinth and yellow daffodil. 1 
 
 It is interesting and delightful to trace a 
 river from its source to the sea. 
 
 " Beginning at the hill-tops/' says Geikie, 
 "we first meet with the spring or ' well-eye/ 
 from which the river takes its rise. A patch 
 of bright green, mottling the brown heathy 
 
 1 F. Davors. 
 
256 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 slope, shows where the water comes to the 
 surface, a treacherous covering of verdure 
 often concealing a deep pool beneath. From 
 this source the rivulet trickles along the grass 
 and heath, which it soon cuts through, reach- 
 ing the black, peaty layer below, and running 
 in it for a short way as in a gutter. Exca- 
 vating its channel in the peat, it comes down 
 to the soil, often a stony earth bleached white 
 by the peat. Deepening and widening the 
 channel as it gathers force with the increas- 
 ing slope, the water digs into the coating of 
 drift or loose decomposed rock that covers 
 the hillside. In favourable localities a nar- 
 row precipitous gully, twenty or thirty feet 
 deep, may thus be scooped out in the course 
 of a few years." 
 
 If, however, we trace one of the Swiss 
 rivers to its source we shall generally find 
 that it begins in a snow field or neve nestled 
 in a shoulder of some great mountain. 
 
 Below the neve lies a glacier, on, in, and 
 under which the water runs in a thousand 
 little streams, eventually emerging at the 
 end, in some cases forming a beautiful blue 
 
WATER 
 
 257 
 
 cavern, though in others the end of the 
 glacier is encumbered and concealed by earth 
 and stones. 
 
 The uppermost Alpine valleys are perhaps 
 generally, though by no means always, a 
 
258 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 little desolate and severe, as, for instance, 
 that of St. Grotthard (Fig. 24). The sides are 
 clothed with rough pasture, which is flowery 
 indeed, though of course the flowers are not 
 visible at a distance, interspersed with live 
 rock and fallen masses, while along the 
 bottom rushes a white torrent. The snowy 
 peaks are generally more or less hidden by 
 the shoulders of the hills. 
 
 The valleys further down widen and be- 
 come more varied and picturesque. The 
 snowy peaks and slopes are more often 
 visible, the " alps " or pastures to which the 
 cows are taken in summer, are greener and 
 dotted with the huts or chalets of the cow- 
 herds, while the tinkling of the cowbells 
 comes tp one from time to time, softened by 
 distance, and suggestive of mountain rambles. 
 Below the alps there is generally a steeper 
 part clothed with Firs or with Larches and 
 Pines, some of which seem as if they were 
 scaling the mountains in regiments, preceded 
 by a certain number of skirmishers. Below 
 the fir woods again are Beeches, Chestnuts, 
 and other deciduous trees, while the central 
 
vii WATER 259 
 
 cultivated portion of the valley is partly 
 arable, partly pasture, the latter differing 
 from our meadows in containing a greater 
 variety of flowers Campanulas, Wild Ge- 
 raniums, Chervil, Ragged Robin, Narcissus, 
 etc. Here and there is a brown village, 
 while more or less in the centre hurries 
 along, with a delightful rushing sound, the 
 mountain torrent, to which the depth, if not 
 the very existence of the valley, is mainly 
 due. The meadows are often carefully 
 irrigated, and the water power is also used 
 for mills, the streams seeming to rush on, as 
 Ruskin says, " eager for their work at the 
 mill, or their ministry to the meadows." 
 
 Apart from the action of running water, 
 snow and frost are continually disintegrating 
 the rocks, and at the base of almost any 
 steep cliff may be seen a slope of debris 
 (as in Figs. 25, 26). This stands at a regular 
 angle the angle of repose and unless it 
 is continually removed by a stream at the 
 base, gradually creeps up higher and higher, 
 until at last the cliff entirely disappears. 
 
 Sometimes the two sides of the valley 
 
260 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 approach so near that there is not even room 
 for the river and the road : in that case 
 Nature claims the supremacy, and the road 
 has to be carried in a cutting, or perhaps in 
 a tunnel through the rock. In other cases 
 Nature is not at one with herself. In many 
 
 Fig. 25. Section of a river valley. The dotted line shows a slope or 
 talus of debris. 
 
 places the debris from the rocks above would 
 reach right across the valley and dam up the 
 stream. Then arises a struggle between 
 rock and river, but the river is always vic- 
 torious in the end ; even if dammed back for 
 a while, it concentrates its forces, rises up 
 the rampart of rock, rushes over trium- 
 phantly, resumes its original course, and 
 gradually carries the enemy away. 
 
WATER 
 
 261 
 
 Another prominent feature in many valleys 
 is afforded by the old river, or lake, terraces, 
 
 which were formed at a time when the river 
 ran at a level far above its present bed. 
 
262 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vn 
 
 Thus many a mountain valley gives some 
 such section as the following. 
 
 Fig. 27. A, present river valley ; B, old river terrace. 
 
 First; a face of rock, very steep, and in 
 some places almost perpendicular; secondly, 
 a regular talus of fallen rocks, stones, etc., 
 as shown in the view of the Rhone Valley 
 (Fig. 26), which takes what is known as the 
 slope of repose, at an angle which depends 
 on the character of the material. As a rule 
 for loose rock fragments it may be taken 
 roughly to be an angle of about 45. Then 
 an irregular slope followed in many places 
 by one or more terraces, and lastly the 
 present bed of the river. 
 
264 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vn 
 
 The width or narrowness of the valley in 
 relation to its depth depends greatly on the 
 condition of the rocks, the harder and tougher 
 they are the narrower as a rule being the 
 valley. 
 
 From time to time a side stream enters the 
 main valley. This is itself composed of many 
 smaller rivulets. If the lateral valleys are 
 steep, the streams bring with them, especially 
 after rains, large quantities of earth and stones. 
 When, however, they reach the main valley, 
 the rapidity of the current being less, their 
 power of transport also diminishes, and they 
 spread out the material which they carry down 
 in a depressed cone (Figs. 28, 29, 31, 32). 
 
 A side stream with its terminal cone, when 
 seen from the opposite side of the valley, pre- 
 sents the appearance shown in Figs. 28, 31, 
 or, if we are looking down the valley, as in 
 Figs. 29, 32, the river being often driven to 
 one side of the main valley, as, for instance, 
 is the case in the Valais, near Sion, where the 
 Rhone (Fig. 30) is driven out of its course by, 
 and forms a curve round, the cone brought 
 down by the torrent of the Borgne. 
 
266 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 Sometimes two lateral valleys (see Plate) 
 come down nearly opposite one another, so 
 that the cones meet, as, for instance, some 
 little way below Vernayaz, and, indeed, in 
 several other places in the Valais (Fig. 31). 
 Or more permanent lakes may be due to a 
 
 Fig. 30. 
 
 ridge of rock running across the valley, 
 as, for instance, just below St. Maurice in 
 the Valais. 
 
 Almost all river valleys contain, or have 
 contained, in their course one or more lakes, 
 and where a river falls into a lake a cone like 
 
rl 
 
VII 
 
 WATER 
 
 267 
 
 those just described is formed, and projects 
 into the lake. Thus on the Lake of Geneva, 
 
 between Yevey and Villeneuve (see Fig. 33), 
 there are several such promontories, each 
 
268 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 marking the place where a stream falls into 
 the lake. 
 
 The Rhone itself has not only filled up 
 what was once the upper end of the lake, 
 
WATER 
 
 269 
 
 but has built out a strip of land into the 
 water. 
 
 That the lake formerly extended some 
 distance up the Valais no one can doubt 
 who looks at the flat ground about Ville- 
 
270 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 neuve. The Plate opposite, from a photo- 
 graph taken above Vevey, shows this clearly. 
 It is quite evident that the lake must for- 
 merly have extended further up the valley, 
 and that it has been filled up by material 
 brought down by the Rhone, a process which 
 is still continuing. 
 
 At the other end of the lake the river 
 rushes out 15 feet deep of "not flowing, but 
 flying water ; not water neither melted 
 glacier matter, one should call it; the force 
 of the ice is in it. and the wreathing of the 
 clouds, the gladness of the sky, and the coun- 
 tenance of time." l 
 
 In flat countries the habits of rivers are 
 very different. For instance, in parts of Nor- 
 folk there are many small lakes or "broads" 
 in a network of rivers the Bure, the Yare, 
 the Ant, the Waveney, etc. which do not 
 rush on with the haste of some rivers, or the 
 stately flow of others which are steadily set 
 to reach the sea, but rather seem like rivers 
 wandering in the meadows on a holiday. 
 They have often no natural banks, but are 
 
 1 Ruskin. 
 
* ... v i . 
 
 L y < 
 
VIJ 
 
 WATER 
 
 271 
 
 bounded by dense growths of tall grasses, 
 Bulrushes, Reeds, and Sedges, interspersed 
 with the spires of the purple Loosestrife, 
 Willow Herb, Hemp Agrimony, and other 
 
 Fig. 34. View in the district of the Broads, Norfolk. 
 
 flowers, while the fields are very low and pro- 
 tected by dykes, so that the red cattle appear 
 to be browsing below the level of the water ; 
 and as the rivers take most unexpected 
 turns, the sailing boats often seem (Fig. 34) 
 as if they were in the middle of the fields. 
 
 At present these rivers are restrained in 
 their courses by banks ; when left free they 
 
272 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 are continually changing their beds. Their 
 courses at first sight seem to follow no rule, 
 but, as it is termed, from a celebrated river 
 of Asia Minor, to " meander " along without 
 aim or object, though in fact they follow 
 very definite laws. 
 
 Finally, when the river at length reaches 
 the sea, it in many cases spreads out in the 
 form of a fan, forming a very flat cone or 
 " delta," as it is called, from the Greek capi- 
 tal A, a name first applied to that of the 
 Nile, and afterwards extended to other rivers. 
 This is due to the same cause, and resembles, 
 except in size, the comparatively minute 
 cones of mountain streams. 
 
 Fig. 35 represents the delta of the Po, and 
 it will be observed that Adria, once a great 
 port, and from which the Adriatic was named, 
 is now more than 20 miles from the sea. 
 Perhaps the most remarkable case is that of 
 the Mississippi (Fig. 36), the mouths of which 
 project into the sea like a hand, or like the 
 petals of a flower.. For miles the mud is too 
 soft to support trees, but is covered by sedges 
 (Miegea) ; the banks of mud gradually be- 
 
WATER 
 
 273 
 
 come too soft and mobile even for them. 
 The pilots who navigate ships up the river 
 
 live in frail houses resting on planks, and 
 kept in place by anchors. Still further, and 
 
 $9? T T TT 13! "R : V *n l er 
 
274 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 the banks of the Mississippi, if banks they 
 can be called, are mere strips of reddish mud, 
 
 Fig. 36. 
 
 intersected from time to time by transverse 
 streams of water, which gradually separate 
 
vii WATER 275 
 
 them into patches. These become more and 
 more liquid, until the land, river, and sea 
 merge imperceptibly into one another. The 
 river is so muddy that it might almost be 
 called land, and the mud so saturated by 
 water that it might well be called sea, so that 
 one can hardly say whether a given spot is 
 on the continent, in the river, or on the open 
 ocean. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII 
 
 RIVERS AND LAKES 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 RIVERS AND LAKES 
 ON THE DIRECTIONS OF RIVERS 
 
 IN the last chapter I have alluded to the 
 wanderings of rivers within the limits of 
 their own valleys ; we have now to consider 
 the causes which have determined the direc- 
 tions of the valleys themselves. 
 
 If a tract of country were raised up in 
 the form of a boss or dome, the rain which 
 fell on it would partly sink in, partly run 
 away to the lower ground. The least in- 
 equality in the surface would determine the 
 first directions of the streams, which would 
 carry down any loose material, and thus 
 form little channels, which would be gradu- 
 ally deepened and enlarged. It is as difficult 
 for a river as for a man to get out of a 
 groove. 
 
 279 
 
280 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vm 
 
 In such a case the rivers would tend to 
 radiate with more or less regularity from the 
 centre or axis of the dome, as, for instance, 
 in our English lake district (Fig. 37). Der- 
 went Water, Thirlmere, Coniston Water, and 
 Windermere, run approximately N. and S. ; 
 Crummock Water, Loweswater, and Butter- 
 mere N.W. by S.E.; Waste Water, Ullswater, 
 and Hawes Water N.E. by S.W. ; while 
 Ennerdale Water lies nearly E. by W. Can 
 we account in any way, and if so how, for 
 these varied directions? 
 
 The mountains of Cumberland and West- 
 moreland form a more or less oval boss, the 
 axis of which, though not straight, runs 
 practically from E.N.E. to W.S.W., say from 
 Scaw Fell to Shap Fell ; and a sketch map 
 shows us almost at a glance that Derwent 
 Water, Thirlmere, Ullswater, Coniston Water, 
 and Windermere run at right angles to this 
 axis ; Ennerdale Water is just where the boss 
 ends and the mountains disappear; while 
 Crummock Water and Waste Water lie at 
 the intermediate angles. 
 
 So much then for the direction. We have 
 
Cumberland 
 
 Fig. 37. Map of the Lake District. 
 
282 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 still to consider the situation and origin, and 
 it appears that Ullswater, Coniston Water, 
 the River Dudden, Waste Water, and Crum- 
 mock Water lie along the lines of old faults, 
 which no doubt in the first instance deter- 
 mined the flow of the water. 
 
 Take another case. In the Jura the 
 valleys are obviously (see Fig. 18) in many 
 cases due to the folding of the strata. It 
 seldom happens, however, that the case is 
 so simple. If the elevation is considerable 
 the strata are often fractured, and fissures 
 are produced. Again if the part elevated 
 contains layers of more than one character, 
 this at once establishes differences. Take, 
 for instance, the Weald of Kent (Figs. 38, 
 39). Here we have (omitting minor layers) 
 four principal strata concerned, namely, the 
 Chalk, Greensand, Weald Clay, and Hastings 
 Sands. 
 
 The axis of elevation runs (Fig. 39) from 
 Winchester by Petersfield, Horsham, and 
 Winchelsea to Boulogne, and as shown in 
 the following section, taken from Professor 
 Ramsay, we have on each side of the axis 
 
vni RIVERS AND LAKES 283 
 
 two ridges or " escarpments," one that of 
 the Chalk, the other that of the .Greensand, 
 while between the Chalk and the Green- 
 sand is a valley, and between the Green- 
 sand and the ridge of Hastings Sand an 
 undulating plain, in each case with a gen- 
 tle slope from about where the London and 
 
 Fig. 38. a, a, Upper Cretaceous strata, chiefly Chalk, forming the North 
 and South Downs; 6, b, Escarpment of Lower Greensand, with a valley be- 
 tween it and the Chalk; c, c, "Weald Clay, forming plains; d, Hills formed 
 of Hastings Sand and Clay. The Chalk, etc., once spread across the country, 
 as shown in the dotted lines. 
 
 Brighton railway crosses the Weald towards 
 the east. Under these circumstances we 
 might have expected that the streams drain- 
 ing the Weald would have run in the direc- 
 tion of the axis of elevation, and at the 
 bases of the escarpments, as in fact the 
 Rother does for part of its course, into the 
 sea between the North and South Downs, 
 instead of which as a rule they run north 
 and south, cutting in some cases directly 
 through the escarpments; on the north, for 
 
Fig. 39. - Map of the Weald of Kent. 
 
CHAP, vni RIVERS AND LAKES 285 
 
 instance, the Wye, the Mole, the Darenth, 
 the Medway, and the Stour; and on the 
 south the Arun, the Addur, the Ouse, and 
 the Cuckmere. 
 
 They do not run in faults or cracks, and 
 it is clear that they could not have excavated 
 their present valleys under circumstances 
 such as now exist. They carry us back in- 
 deed to a time when the Greensand and 
 Chalk were continued across the Weald in a 
 great dome, as shown by the dotted lines in 
 Fig. 38. They then ran down the slope of 
 the dome, and as the Chalk and Greensand 
 gradually weathered back, a process still in 
 operation, the rivers deepened and deepened 
 their valleys, and thus were enabled to keep 
 their original course. 
 
 Other evidence in support of this view 
 is afforded by the presence of gravel beds 
 in some places at the very top of the Chalk 
 escarpment beds which were doubtless 
 deposited when, what is now the summit 
 of a hill, was part of a continuous slope. 
 
 The course of the Thames offers us a some- 
 what similar instance. It rises on the Oolites 
 
286 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 near Cirencester, and cuts through the escarp- 
 ment of the Chalk between Wallingford and 
 Reading. The cutting through the Chalk has 
 evidently been effected by the river itself. 
 But this could not have happened under 
 existing conditions. We must remember, 
 however, that the Chalk escarpment is gradu- 
 ally moving eastwards. The Chalk escarp- 
 ments indeed are everywhere, though of 
 course only slowly, crumbling away. Be- 
 tween Farnham and Guildford the Chalk is 
 reduced to a narrow ridge known as the 
 Hog's Back. In the same way no doubt the 
 area of the Chalk formerly extended much 
 further west than it does at present, and, in- 
 deed, there can be little doubt, somewhat 
 further west than the source of the Thames, 
 almost to the valley of the Severn. At that 
 time the Thames took its origin in a Chalk 
 spring. Gradually, however, the Chalk was 
 worn away by the action of weather, and 
 especially of rain. The river maintained its 
 course while gradually excavating, and sink- 
 ing deeper and deeper into, the Chalk. At 
 present the river meets the Chalk escarpment 
 
vin RIVERS AND LAKES 287 
 
 near Wallingford, but the escarpment itself 
 is still gradually retreating eastward. 
 
 So, again, the Elbe cuts right across the 
 Erz-Gebirge, the Rhine through the moun- 
 tains between Bingen and Coblenz, the Poto- 
 mac, the Susquehannah, and the Delaware 
 through the Alleghames. The case of the 
 Dranse will be alluded to further on (p. 292). 
 In these cases the rivers preceded the moun- 
 tains. Indeed as soon as the land rose above 
 the waters, rivers would begin their work, 
 and having done so, unless the rate of eleva- 
 tion of the mountain exceeded the power of 
 erosion of the river, the two would proceed 
 simultaneously, so that the river would not 
 alter its course, but would cut deeper and 
 deeper as the mountain range gradually 
 rose. 
 
 Rivers then are in many cases older than 
 mountains. Moreover, the mountains are 
 passive, the rivers active. Since it seems to 
 be well established that in Switzerland a 
 mass, more than equal to what remains, has 
 been removed ; and that many of the present 
 mountains are not sites which were originally 
 
288 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 raised highest, but those which have suffered 
 least, it follows that if in some cases the 
 course of the river is due to the direction of 
 the mountain ridges, on the other hand the 
 direction of some of the present ridges is due 
 to that of the rivers. At any rate it is cer- 
 tain that of the original surface not a trace 
 or a fragment remains in situ. Many of our 
 own English mountains were once valleys, 
 and many of our present valleys occupy the 
 sites of former mountain ridges. 
 
 Heim and Rlitimeyer point out that of the 
 two factors which have produced the relief of 
 mountain regions, the one, elevation, is tem- 
 porary and transitory ; the other, denudation, 
 is constant, and gains therefore finally the 
 upper hand. 
 
 We must not, however, expect too great 
 regularity. The degree of hardness, the 
 texture, and the composition of the rocks 
 cause great differences. 
 
 On the other hand, if the alteration of 
 level was too rapid, the result might be 
 greatly to alter the river courses. Mr. 
 Darwin mentions such a case, which, more- 
 
viii RIVERS AND LAKES 289 
 
 over, is perhaps the more interesting as being 
 evidently very recent. 
 
 " Mr. Gill," he says, " mentioned to me a 
 most interesting, and as far as I am aware, 
 quite unparalleled case, of a subterranean dis- 
 turbance having changed the drainage of a 
 country. Travelling from Casma to Huaraz 
 (not very far distant from Lima) he found a 
 plain covered with ruins and marks of ancient 
 cultivation, but now quite barren. Near it 
 was the dry course of a considerable river, 
 whence the water for irrigation had formerly 
 been conducted. There was nothing in the 
 appearance of the water-course to indicate 
 that the river had not flowed there a few 
 years previously; in some parts beds of sand 
 and gravel were spread out ; in others, the 
 solid rock had been worn into a broad chan- 
 nel, which in one spot was about 40 yards in 
 breadth and 8 feet deep. It is self-evident 
 that a person following up the course of a 
 stream will always ascend at a greater or less 
 inclination. Mr. Gill therefore, was much 
 astonished when walking up the bed of this 
 ancient river, to find himself suddenly going 
 
290 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 downhill. He imagined that the downward 
 slope had a fall of about 40 or 50 feet per- 
 pendicular. We here have unequivocal evi- 
 dence that a ridge had been uplifted right 
 across the old bed of a stream. From the 
 moment the river course was thus arched, 
 the water must necessarily have been thrown 
 back, and a new channel formed. From that 
 moment also the neighbouring plain must 
 have lost its fertilising stream, and become 
 a desert." * 
 
 The strata, moreover, often indeed gener- 
 ally, as we have seen, for instance, in the case 
 of Switzerland bear evidence of most vio- 
 lent contortions, and even where the convul- 
 sions were less extreme, the valleys thus 
 resulting are sometimes complicated by the 
 existence of older valleys formed under pre- 
 vious conditions. 
 
 In the Alps then the present configuration 
 of the surface is mainly the result of denuda- 
 tion. If we look at a map of Switzerland 
 we can trace but little relation between the 
 river courses and the mountain chains. 
 
 1 Darwin's Voyage of a Naturalist. 
 
I RIVERS AND LAKES 291 
 
 The rivers, as a rule (Fig. 40), run either 
 
 S.E. by N.W., or, at right angles to this, N.E. 
 and S.W, The Alps themselves follow a 
 
292 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 somewhat curved line from the Maritime Alps, 
 commencing with the islands of Hyeres, by 
 Briancon, Martigny, the Valais, Urseren Thai, 
 Vorder Rhein, Innsbruck, Radstadt, and 
 Rottenmann to the Danube, a little below 
 Vienna, at first nearly north and south, but 
 gradually curving round until it becomes 
 S.W. by N.E. 
 
 The central mountains are mainly composed 
 of Gneiss, Granite, and crystalline Schists : 
 the line of junction between these rocks and 
 the secondary and tertiary strata on the north, 
 runs, speaking roughly, from Hyeres to Gre- 
 noble, and then by Albertville, Sion, Chur, Inns, 
 bruck, Radstadt, and Hieflau, towards Vienna. 
 It is followed (in some part of their course) 
 by the Isere, the Rhone, the Rhine, the Inn, 
 and the Enns. One of the great folds shortly 
 described in the preceding chapter runs up 
 the Isere, along the Chamouni Valley, up the 
 Rhone, through the Urseren Thai, down the 
 Rhine Valley to Chur, along the Inn nearly to 
 Kuf stein, and for some distance along the 
 Enns. Thus, then, five great rivers have 
 taken advantage of this main fold, each of 
 
vin RIVERS AND LAKES 293 
 
 them eventually breaking through into a 
 transverse valley. 
 
 The Pusterthal in the Tyrol offers us an 
 interesting case of what is obviously a single 
 valley, which has, however, been slightly 
 raised in the centre, near Toblach, so that 
 from this point the water flows in opposite 
 directions the Drau eastward, and the Rienz 
 westward. In this case the elevation is 
 single and slight : in the main valley there 
 are several, and they are much loftier, 
 still we may, I think, regard that of 
 the Isere from Chambery to Albertville, 
 of the Rhone from Martigny to its source, 
 of the Urseren Thai, of the Vorder Rhine 
 from its source to Chur, of the Inn from 
 Landeck to below Innsbruck, even perhaps 
 of the Enns from Radstadt to Hieflau as 
 in one sense a single valley, due to one of 
 these longitudinal folds, but interrupted by 
 bosses of gneiss and granite, one culminat- 
 ing in Mont Blanc, and another in the St. 
 Gotthard, which have separated the waters 
 of the Isere, the Rhone, the Vorder Rhine, 
 the Inn, and the Enns. That the valley of 
 
294 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Chamouni, the Yalais, the Urseren Thai, 
 and that of the Yorder Khine really form 
 part of one great fold is further shown by 
 the presence of a belt of Jurassic strata 
 nipped in, as it were, between the crystalline 
 rocks. 
 
 This seems to throw light on the remark- 
 able turns taken by the Rhone at Martigny 
 and the Vorder Rhine at Chur, where they 
 respectively quit the great longitudinal fold, 
 and fall into secondary transverse valleys. 
 The Rhone for the upper part of its course, as 
 far as Martigny, runs in the great longitudi- 
 nal fold of the Yalais ; at Martigny it falls 
 into and adopts the transverse valley, which 
 properly belongs to the Dranse ; for the 
 Dranse is probably an older river and ran in 
 the present course even before the great fold 
 of the Yalais. This would seem to indicate 
 that the Oberland range is not so old as the 
 Pennine, and that its elevation was so 
 gradual that the Dranse was able to wear 
 away a passage as the ridge gradually rose. 
 After leaving the Lake of Geneva the Rhone 
 follows a course curving gradually to the 
 
vni RIVERS AND LAKES 295 
 
 south, until it reaches St. Genix, where it falls 
 into and adopts a transverse valley which 
 properly belongs to the little river Guiers ; it 
 subsequently joins the Ain and finally falls 
 into the Saone. If these valleys were attrib- 
 uted to their older occupiers we should there- 
 fore confine the name of the Rhone to the 
 portion of its course from the Rhone glacier to 
 Martigny. From Martigny it occupies succes- 
 sively the valleys of the Dranse, Guiers, Ain, 
 and Saone. In fact, the Saone receives the 
 Ain, the Ain the Guiers, the Guiers the 
 Dranse, and the Dranse the Rhone. This is 
 not a mere question of names, but also one of 
 antiquity. The Saone, for instance, flowed 
 past Lyons to the Mediterranean for ages 
 before it was joined by the Rhone. In our 
 nomenclature, however, the Rhone has swal- 
 lowed up the others. This is the more curious 
 because of the three great rivers which unite 
 to form the lower Rhone, namely, the Saone, 
 the Doubs, and the Rhone itself, the Sacme 
 brings for a large part of the year the 
 greatest volume of water, and the Doubs 
 has the longest course. Other similar cases 
 
296 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 might be mentioned. The Aar, for instance, 
 is a somewhat larger river than the Rhine. 
 
 But why should the rivers, after running 
 
vni RIVERS AND LAKES 297 
 
 for a certain distance in the direction of the 
 main axis, so often break away into lateral 
 valleys ? If the elevation of a chain of moun- 
 tains be due to the causes suggested in p. 214, 
 it is evident, though, so far as I am aware, 
 stress has not hitherto been laid upon this, 
 that the compression and consequent folding 
 of the strata (Fig. 41) would not be in the 
 direction A B only, but also at right angles to 
 it, in the direction A (7, though the amount of 
 folding might be much greater in one direc- 
 tion than in the other. Thus in the case of 
 Switzerland, while the main folds run south- 
 west by north-east, there would be others at 
 right angles to the main axis. The complex 
 structure of the Swiss mountains may be 
 partly due to the coexistence of these two 
 directions of pressure at right angles to one 
 another. The presence of a fold so originating 
 would often divert the river to a course more 
 or less nearly at right angles to its original 
 direction. 
 
 Switzerland, moreover, slopes northwards 
 from the Alps, so that the lowest part of the 
 great Swiss plain is that along the foot of 
 
298 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 the Jura. Hence the main drainage rims 
 along the line from Yverdun to Neuchatel, 
 down the Zihl to Soleure, and then along the 
 Aar to Waldshut : the Upper Aar, the-Emmen, 
 the Wiggern, the Suhr, the Wynen, the lower 
 Reuss, the Sihl, and the Limmat, besides 
 several smaller streams, running approxi- 
 mately parallel to one another north-north- 
 east, and at angles to the main axis of 
 elevation, and all joining the Aar from the 
 south, while on the north it does not receive 
 a single contributary of any importance. 
 
 On the south side of the Alps again w r e 
 have the Dora Baltea, the Sesia, the Ticino, 
 the Olonna, the Adda, the Adige, etc., all 
 running south-south-east from the axis of 
 elevation to the Po. 
 
 Indeed, the general slope of Switzerland, 
 being from the ridge of the Alps towards the 
 north, it will be observed (Fig. 42) that almost 
 all the large affluents of these rivers running 
 in longitudinal valleys fall in on the south, as, 
 for instance, those of the Isere from Albertville 
 to Grenoble, of the Rhone from its source to 
 Martigny, of the Yorder Rhine from its source 
 
vnt RIVERS AND LAKES 299 
 
 to Chur, of the Inn from Landeck to Kufstein, 
 
 of the Enns from its source to near Admont, 
 
300 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 of the Danube from its source to Vienna, and 
 as just mentioned, of the Aar from Bern to 
 Waldshut. Hence also, whenever the Swiss 
 rivers running east and west break into a 
 transverse valley, as the larger ones all do, 
 and some more than once, they invariably, 
 whether originally running east or westwards, 
 turn towards the north. 
 
 But although we thus get a clue to 
 the general structure of Switzerland, the 
 whole question is extremely complex, and 
 the strata have been crumpled and folded 
 in the most complicated manner, sometimes 
 completely reversed, so that older rocks have 
 been folded back on younger strata, and even 
 in some cases these folds again refolded. 
 Moreover, the denudation by aerial action, by 
 glaciers, frosts, and rivers has removed hun- 
 dreds, or rather thousands, of feet of strata. 
 In fact, the mountain tops are not by any 
 means the spots which have been most 
 elevated, but those which have been least 
 denuded ; and hence it is that so many of the 
 peaks stand at about the same altitude. 
 
RIVERS AND LAKES 301 
 
 THE CONFLICTS AND ADVENTURES OF RIVERS 
 
 Our ancestors looked upon rivers as being in 
 some sense alive, and in fact in their " struggle 
 for existence" they not only labour to adapt 
 their channel to their own requirements, but 
 in many cases enter into conflict with one 
 another. 
 
 In the plain of Bengal, for instance, there 
 are three great rivers, the Brahmapootra 
 corning from the north, the Ganges from the 
 west, and the Megna from the east, each of 
 them with a number of tributary streams. 
 Mr. Fergusson 1 has given us a most interest- 
 ing and entertaining account of the struggles 
 between these great rivers to occupy the 
 fertile plain of Bengal. 
 
 The Megna, though much inferior in size to 
 the Brahmapootra, has one great advantage. 
 It depends mainly on the monsoon rains for 
 its supply, while the Brahmapootra not only 
 has a longer course to run, but relies for its 
 floods, to a great extent, on the melting of the 
 
 l Geol. Jour., 1863. 
 
302 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 snow, so that, arriving later at the scene of 
 the struggle, it finds the country already 
 occupied by the Megna to such an extent that 
 it has been driven nearly 70 miles northwards, 
 and forced to find a new channel. 
 
 Under these circumstances it has attacked 
 the territory of the Ganges, and being in 
 flood earlier than that river, though later 
 than the Megna, it has in its turn a great 
 advantage. 
 
 Whatever the ultimate result may be the 
 struggle continues vigorously. At Sooksaghur, 
 says Fergusson, " there was a noble country 
 house, built by Warren Hastings, about a mile 
 from the banks of the Hoogly. When I first 
 knew it in 1830 half the avenue of noble trees, 
 which led from the river to the house, was 
 gone ; when I last saw it, some eight years 
 afterwards, the river was close at hand. Since 
 then house, stables, garden, and village are all 
 gone, and the river was on the point of break- 
 ing through the narrow neck of high land 
 that remained, and pouring itself into some 
 weak-banded nullahs in the lowlands beyond : 
 and if it had succeeded, the Hoogly would 
 
vin RIVERS AND LAKES 303 
 
 have deserted Calcutta. At this juncture the 
 Eastern Bengal Railway Company intervened. 
 They were carrying their works along the 
 ridge, and they have, for the moment at least, 
 stopped the oscillation in this direction." 
 
 This has affected many of the other tribu- 
 taries of the Ganges, so that the survey made 
 by Rennell in 1780-90 is no longer any evi- 
 dence as to the present course of the rivers. 
 They may now be anywhere else ; in some 
 cases all we can say is that they are certainly 
 not now where they were then. 
 
 The association of the three great European 
 rivers, the Rhine, the Rhone, and the Danube, 
 with the past history of our race, invests them 
 with a singular fascination, and their past his- 
 tory is one of much interest. They all three 
 rise in the group of mountains between the 
 Galenstock and the Bernardino, within a space 
 of a few miles ; on the east the waters run into 
 the Black Sea, on the north into the German 
 Ocean, and on the west into the Mediterranean. 
 But it has not always been so. Their head- 
 waters have been at one time interwoven 
 together. 
 
304 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 At present the waters of the Valais escape 
 from the Lake of Geneva at the western end, 
 and through the remarkable defile of Fort de 
 1'Ecluse and Malpertius, which has a depth of 
 600 feet, arid is at one place not more than 
 14 feet across. Moreover, at various points 
 round the Lake of Geneva, remains of lake 
 terraces show that the water once stood at a 
 level much higher than the present. One 
 of these is rather more than 250 feet l above 
 the lake. 
 
 A glance at the map will show that be- 
 tween Lausanne and Yverdun there is a low 
 tract of land, and the Venoge, which falls 
 into the Lake of Geneva between Lausanne 
 and Morges, runs within about half a mile of 
 the Nozon, which falls into the Lake of Neu- 
 chatel at Yverdun, the two being connected 
 by the Canal d'Entreroches, and the height 
 of the watershed being only 76 metres (250 
 feet), corresponding with the above mentioned 
 lake terrace. It is evident, therefore, that 
 when the Lake of Geneva stood at the level of 
 the 250 feet terrace the waters ran out, not as 
 
 1 Favre, Bech. Geol. de la Savoie. 
 
viii RIVERS AND LAKES 305 
 
 now at Geneva and by Lyons to the Mediter- 
 ranean, but near Lausanne by Cissonay and 
 Entreroches to Yverdun, and through the 
 Lake of Neuchatel into the Aar and the Rhine. 
 
 But this is not the whole of the curious 
 history. At present the Aar makes a sharp 
 turn to the west at Waldshut, where it falls 
 into the Rhine, but there is reason to believe 
 that at a former period, before the Rhine had 
 excavated its present bed, the Aar continued 
 its course eastward to the Lake of Constance, 
 by the valley of the Klettgau, as is indicated by 
 the presence of gravel beds containing pebbles 
 which have been brought, not by the Rhine 
 from the Grisons, but by the Aar from the 
 Bernese Oberland, showing that the river 
 which occupied the valley was not the Rhine 
 but the Aar. It would seem also that at an 
 early period the Lake of Constance stood at a 
 considerably higher level, and that the outlet 
 was, perhaps, from Frederichshaven to Ulm, 
 along what are now the valleys of the 
 Schussen and the Ried, into the Danube. 
 
 Thus the head-waters of the Rhone appear 
 to have originally run by Lausanne and the 
 
306 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Lake of Constance into the Danube, and so to 
 the Black Sea. Then, after the present valley 
 was opened between Waldshut and Basle, 
 they flowed by Basle and the present Rhine, 
 and after joining the Thames, over the plain 
 which now forms the German Sea into the 
 Arctic Ocean between Scotland and Norway. 
 Finally, after the opening of the passage at 
 Fort de 1'Ecluse, by Geneva, Lyons, and the 
 Valley of the Saone, to the Mediterranean. 
 
 It must not, however, be supposed that 
 these changes in river courses are confined to 
 the lower districts. Mountain streams have 
 also their adventures and vicissitudes, their 
 wars and invasions. Take for instance the 
 Upper Rhine, of which we have a very inter- 
 esting account by Heim. It is formed of 
 three main branches, the Vorder Rhine, Hinter 
 Rhine, and the Albula. The two latter, after 
 meeting near Thusis, unite with the Vorder 
 Rhine at Reichenau, and run by Chur, May- 
 enfeld, and Sargans into the Lake of Con- 
 stance at Rheineck. At some former period, 
 however, the drainage of this district was 
 very different, as is shown in Fig. 43, 
 
vni RIVEES AND LAKES 307 
 
 The Vorder and Hinter Rhine united then 
 (Fig. 43) as they do now at Reichenau, but at 
 a much higher level, and ran to Mayenfeld, 
 not by Chur, but by the Kunckel Pass to Sar- 
 gans, and so on, not to the Lake of Constance, 
 but to that of Zurich. The Landwasser at 
 that time rose in the Schlappina Joch, and 
 after receiving as tributaries the Vereina and 
 the Sardasca, joined the Albula, as it does now 
 at Tiefenkasten ; but instead of going round 
 to meet the Hinter Rhine near Thusis, the 
 two together travelled parallel with, but at 
 some distance from, the Hinter Rhine, by 
 Heide to Chur, and so to Mayenfeld. 
 
 In the meanwhile, however, the Land- 
 quart was stealthily creeping up the valley, 
 attacked the ridge which then united the 
 Casanna and the Madrishorn, and gradually 
 forcing the passage, invaded (Fig. 44) the 
 valleys of the Schlappina, Yereina, and Sar- 
 dasca, absorbed them as tributaries, and, 
 detaching them from their allegiance to the 
 Landwasser, annexed the whole of the upper 
 province which had formerly belonged to that 
 river. 
 
308 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUKE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 The Schyn also gradually worked its way 
 upwards from Thusis till it succeeded in 
 sapping the Albula, and carried it down the 
 
 L.afWaRenstadt? V 
 
 SargoMS 
 
 Ma/enfeUL 
 
 QUIT 
 
 Fig. 43. River system round Chur, as it used to be. 
 
 valley to join the Yorder Rhine near Thusis. 
 In what is now the main valley of the Rhine 
 above Chur another stream ate its way 
 back, and eventually tapped the main river 
 
VIII 
 
 RIVERS AND LAKES 
 
 309 
 
 at Reichenau, thus diverting it from the 
 Kunckel, and carrying it round by Chur. 
 At Sargans a somewhat similar process 
 
 Tayenfelci 
 
 fe, 
 
 >Chur 
 
 ichencn/, 
 
 Seide 
 
 & 
 
 ^ 
 
 Fig. 44. River system round Chur, as it is. 
 
 was repeated, with the addition that the 
 material brought down by the Weisstannen, 
 or perhaps a rockfall, deflected the Rhine, 
 just as we see in Fig. 30 that the Rhone 
 
310 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 was pushed on one side by the Borgne. The 
 Rhone, however, had no choice, it was obliged 
 to force, and has forced its way over the cone 
 deposited by the Borgne. The Rhine, on the 
 contrary, had the option of running down by 
 Vaduz to Rheinach, and has adopted this 
 course. The watershed between it and the 
 Weisstannen is, however, only about 20 feet 
 in height, and the people of Zurich watch it 
 carefully, lest any slight change should enable 
 the river to return to its old bed. The result 
 of all these changes is that the rivers have 
 changed their courses from those shown in Fig. 
 43 to their present beds as shown in Fig. 44. 
 
 Another interesting case is that of the 
 Upper Engadine (Fig. 45), to which attention 
 has been called by Bonney and Heim. The fall 
 of the Yal Bregaglia is much steeper than that 
 of the Inn, and the Maira has carried off the 
 head-waters of that river away into Italy. 
 The Col was formerly perhaps as far south as 
 Stampa : the Albegna, the Upper Maira, and 
 the stream from the Forgno Glacier, originally 
 belonged to the Inn, but have been captured 
 by the Lower Maira. Their direction still 
 
YIII 
 
 RIVERS AND LAKES 
 
 311 
 
 indicates this ; they seem as if they regretted 
 the unwelcome change, and yearned to rejoin 
 their old companions. 
 
 Moreover, as rivers are 
 continually cutting back 
 their valleys they must of 
 course sometimes meet. 
 In these cases when the 
 valleys are at different 
 levels the lower rivers 
 have drained the upper 
 ones, and left dry, deserted 
 valleys. In other cases, 
 especially in natter dis- 
 tricts, we have bifurca- 
 tions, as, for instance, at 
 Sargans, and several of 
 the Italian lakes. Every 
 one must have been struck 
 by the peculiar bifurcation 
 of the Lakes of Como and 
 Lugano, while a very slight 
 depression would connect Fig .46.-RiTer .ystem of the 
 the Lake Varese with the Maloya ' 
 
 Maggiore, and give it also a double southern end. 
 
312 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 ON LAKES 
 
 The problem of the origin of Lakes is by 
 no means identical with that of Valleys. 
 The latter are due, primarily as a rule to 
 geological causes, but so far as their present 
 condition is concerned, mainly to the action 
 of rain and rivers. Flowing water, however, 
 cannot give rise to lakes. 
 
 It is of course possible to have valleys with- 
 out lakes, and in fact the latter are, now at 
 least, exceptional. There can be no lakes if 
 the slope of the valley is uniform. To what 
 then are lakes due ? 
 
 Professor Ramsay divides Lakes into three 
 classes : 
 
 1. Those due to irregular accumulations of 
 drift, and which are generally quite shallow. 
 
 2. Those formed by moraines. 
 
 3. Those which occupy true basins scooped 
 by glacier ice out of the solid rock. 
 
 To these must, however, I think be added 
 at least one other great class and several 
 minor ones, namely, 
 
VTII RIVERS AND LAKES 313 
 
 4. Those due to inequalities of elevation 
 or depression. 
 
 5. Lakes in craters of extinct volcanoes, 
 for instance, Lake Avernus. 
 
 6. Those caused by subsidence due to the 
 removal of underlying soluble rocks,' such as 
 some of the Cheshire Meres. 
 
 7. Loop lakes in deserted river courses, of 
 which there are many along the course of the 
 Rhine. 
 
 8. Those due to rockfalls, landslips, or lava 
 currents, damming up the course of a river. 
 
 9. Those caused by the advance of a gla- 
 cier across a lateral valley, such as the Mer- 
 gelen See, or the ancient lake whose margins 
 form the celebrated " Parallel Roads of Glen 
 Roy." 
 
 As regards the first class we find here and 
 there on the earth's surface districts sprinkled 
 with innumerable shallow lakes of all sizes, 
 down to mere pools. Such, for instance, occur 
 in the district of Le Doubs between the 
 Rhone and the Saone, that of La Sologne 
 near Orleans, in parts of North America, and 
 in Finland. Such lakes are, as a rule, quite 
 
314 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 shallow. Some geologists, Geikie, for in- 
 stance, ascribe them to the fact of these 
 regions having been covered by sheets of 
 ice which strewed the land with irregular 
 masses of clay, gravel, and sand, lying on a 
 stratum impervious to water, either of hard 
 rock such as granite or gneiss, or of clay, so 
 that the rain cannot percolate through it, and 
 without sufficient inclination to throw it off. 
 
 2. To Ramsay's second class of Lakes 
 belong those formed by moraines. The 
 materials forming moraines being, however, 
 comparatively loose, are easily cut through 
 by streams. There are in Switzerland many 
 cases of valleys crossed by old moraines, but 
 they have generally been long ago worn 
 through by the rivers. 
 
 3. Ramsay and Tyndall attribute most of 
 the great Swiss and Italian lakes to the action 
 of glaciers, and regard them as rock basins. 
 It is of course obvious that rivers cannot 
 make basin-shaped hollows surrounded by 
 rock on all sides. The Lake of Geneva, 
 1230 feet above the sea, is over 1000 feet 
 deep ; the Lake of Brienz is 1850 feet above 
 
vin RIVERS AND LAKES 315 
 
 the sea, and 2000 feet deep, so that its 
 bottom is really below the sea level. The 
 Italian Lakes are even more remarkable. 
 The Lake of Como, 700 feet above the sea, 
 is 1929 feet deep. Lago Maggiore, 685 feet 
 above the sea, is no less than 2625 feet 
 deep. 
 
 If the mind is at first staggered at the 
 magnitude of the scale, we must remember 
 that the ice which is supposed to have scooped 
 out the valley in which the Lake of Geneva 
 now reposes, was once at least 4000 feet 
 thick ; while the moraines were also of 
 gigantic magnitude, that of Ivrea, for in- 
 stance, being no less than 1500 feet above 
 the river, and several miles long. 
 
 Indeed it is obvious that a glacier many 
 hundred, or in some cases several thousand, 
 feet in thickness, must exercise great pressure 
 on the bed over which it travels. We see 
 this from the striae and grooves on the solid 
 rocks, and the fine mud which is carried down 
 by glacial streams. The deposit of glacial 
 rivers, the "loess" of the Rhine itself, is 
 mainly the result of this ice-waste, and that is 
 
316 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 why it is so fine, so impalpable. That glaciers 
 do deepen their beds seems therefore unques- 
 tionable. 
 
 Moreover, though the depth of some of 
 these lakes is great, the true slope is very 
 slight. 
 
 Tyndall and Ramsay do not deny that the 
 original direction of valleys, and consequently 
 of lakes, is due to cosmical causes and geo- 
 logical structure, while even those who have 
 most strenuously opposed the theory which 
 attributes lakes to glacial erosion do not 
 altogether deny the action of glaciers. Favre 
 himself admits that " it is impossible to deny 
 that valleys, after their formation, have been 
 swept out and perhaps enlarged by rivers and 
 glaciers." 
 
 Even Ruskin admits "that a glacier may 
 be considered as a vast instrument of friction, 
 a white sand-paper applied slowly but irresist- 
 ibly to all the roughness of the hill which it 
 covers." 
 
 It is obvious that sand-paper applied 
 " irresistibly " and long enough, must 
 gradually wear away and lower the surface. 
 
vm RIVERS AND LAKES 317 
 
 I cannot therefore resist the conclusion that 
 glaciers have taken an important part in the 
 formation of lakes. 
 
 The question has sometimes been discussed 
 as if the point at issue were whether rivers or 
 glaciers were the most effective as excavators. 
 But this is not so. Those who believe that 
 lakes are in many cases due to glaciers might 
 yet admit that rivers have greater power of 
 erosion. There is, however, an essential dif- 
 ference in the mode of action. Rivers tend 
 to regularise their beds ; they drain, rather 
 than form lakes. Their tendency is to cut 
 through any projections so that finally their 
 course assumes some such curve as that 
 below, from the source (a) to its entrance into 
 the sea &. 
 
 Fig. 46. Final Slope of a River. 
 
 Glaciers, however, have in addition a scoop- 
 ing power, so that if similarly a d 1} in Fig. 
 47 represent the course of a glacier, starting 
 at a and gradually thinning out to e, it may 
 
318 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 scoop out the rock to a certain extent at d\ 
 in that case if it subsequently retires say to 
 c, there would be a lake lying in the basin 
 thus formed between c and e. 
 
 Fig. 47. 
 
 On the other hand I am not disposed to 
 attribute the Swiss lakes altogether to the 
 action of glaciers. In the first place it does 
 not seem clear that they occupy true rock 
 basins. On this point more evidence is re- 
 quired. That some lakes are due to unequal 
 changes of level will hardly be denied. No 
 one, for instance, as Bonney justly observes, 1 
 would attribute the Dead Sea to glacial ero- 
 sion. 
 
 The Alps, as we have seen, are a succession 
 of great folds, and there is reason to regard 
 the central one as the oldest. If then the 
 same process continued, and the outer fold 
 was still further raised, or a new one formed, 
 more quickly than the rivers could cut it 
 
 1 Growth and Structure of the Alps. 
 
viii RIVERS AND LAKES 319 
 
 back, they would be dammed up, and lakes 
 would result. 
 
 Moreover, if the formation of a mountain 
 region be due to subsidence, and consequent 
 crumpling, as indicated on p. 217, so that the 
 strata which originally occupied the area A B 
 C D are compressed into A' B' C' D', it is 
 evident, as already mentioned, that while the 
 line of least resistance, and, consequently, the 
 principal folds might be in the direction A' B', 
 there must also be a tendency to the forma- 
 tion of similar folds at right angles, or in the 
 direction A' C'. Thus, in the case of Switzer- 
 land, while the main folds run south-west by 
 north-east there would also be others at right 
 angles, though the amount of folding might be 
 much greater in the one direction than in the 
 other. To this cause the bosses, for instance 
 
 at Martigny, the Furca, and the Ober Alp, 
 
 which intersect the great longitudinal val- 
 ley of Switzerland, are perhaps due. 
 
 The great American lakes also are probably 
 due to differences of elevation. Kound Lake 
 Ontario, for instance, there is a raised beach 
 which at the western end of the lake is 363 
 
320 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 feet above the sea level, but rises towards the 
 East x and North until near Fine it reaches an 
 elevation of 972 feet. As this terrace must 
 have been originally horizontal we have here 
 a lake barrier, due to a difference of elevation, 
 amounting to over 600 feet. 
 
 In the same way we get a clue to the curi- 
 ous cruciform shape of the Lake of Lucerne 
 as contrasted with the simple outline of such 
 lakes as those of Neuchatel or Zurich. That 
 of Lucerne is a complex lake. Soundings 
 have shown that the bottom of the Urner See 
 is quite flat. It is in fact the old bed of the 
 Reuss, which originally ran, not as now by 
 Lucerne, but by Schwytz and through the 
 Lake of Zug. In the same way the Alpnach 
 See is the old bed of the Aa, which likewise 
 ran through the Lake of Zug. The old river 
 terraces of the Reuss can be traced in places 
 between Brunnen and Goldau. Now these 
 terraces must have originally sloped from the 
 upper part downwards, from Brunnen towards 
 Goldau. But at present the slope is the other 
 way, i.e. from Goldau towards Brunnen. 
 From this and other evidence we conclude 
 
viii RIVERS AND LAKES 321 
 
 that in the direction from Lucerne towards 
 Rapperschwyl there has been an elevation of 
 the land, which has dammed up the valleys 
 and thus turned parts of the Aa and the 
 Reuss into lakes the two branches of the 
 Lake of Lucerne known as the Alpnach See 
 and Urner See. 
 
 During the earthquakes of 1819 while part 
 of the Runn of Cutch, 2000 square miles in 
 area, sunk several feet, a ridge of land, called 
 by the natives the Ulla-Bund or " the wall of 
 God," thirty miles long, and in parts sixteen 
 miles wide, was raised across an ancient arm 
 of the Indus, and turned it temporarily into 
 a lake. 
 
 In considering the great Italian lakes, 
 which descend far below the sea level, we 
 must remember that the Valley of the Po is a 
 continuation of the Adriatic, now filled up 
 and converted into land, by the materials 
 brought down from the Alps. Hence we are 
 tempted to ask whether the lakes may not 
 be remains of the ancient sea which once 
 occupied the whole plain. Moreover just as 
 the Seals of Lake Baikal in Siberia carry us 
 
322 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 back to the time when that great sheet of 
 fresh water was in connection with the Arctic 
 Ocean, so there is in the character of the 
 Fauna of the Italian lakes, and especially the 
 presence of a Crab in the Lake of Garda, 
 some confirmation of such an idea. Further 
 evidence, however, is necessary before these 
 interesting questions can be definitely an- 
 swered. 
 
 Lastly, some lakes and inland seas seem to 
 be due to even greater cosmical causes. Thus 
 a line inclined ten degrees to the pole be- 
 ginning at Gibraltar would pass through 
 a great chain of inland waters the Medi- 
 terranean, Black Sea, Caspian, Aral, Baikal, 
 and back again through the great American 
 lakes. 
 
 But though many causes have contributed 
 to the original formation and direction of 
 Valleys, their present condition is mainly due 
 to the action of water. When we contemplate 
 such a valley, for example, as that which is 
 called par excellence the " Yalais," we can at 
 first hardly bring ourselves to realise this; 
 but we can trace up valleys, from the little 
 
vin RIVERS AND LAKES 323 
 
 watercourse made by last night's rains up to 
 the greatest valleys of all. 
 
 These considerations, however, do not of 
 course apply to such depressions as those 
 of the great oceans. These were probably 
 formed when the surface of the globe began 
 to solidify, and, though with many modifica- 
 tions, have maintained their main features 
 ever since. 
 
 ON THE CONFIGURATION OF VALLEYS 
 
 The conditions thus briefly described repeat 
 themselves in river after river, valley after 
 valley, and it adds, I think, very much to the 
 interest with which we regard them if, by 
 studying the general causes to which they are 
 due, we can explain their origin, and thus to 
 some extent understand the story they have 
 to tell us, and the history they record. 
 
 What, then, has that history been ? The 
 same valley may be of a very different char- 
 acter, and due to very different causes, in dif- 
 ferent parts of its course. Some valleys are 
 due to folds (see Fig. 41) caused by sub terra- 
 
324 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 nean changes, but by far the greater number 
 are, in their present features, mainly the re- 
 sult of erosion. As soon as any tract of land 
 rose out of the sea, the rain which fell on the 
 surface would trickle downwards in a thou- 
 sand rills, forming pools here and there (see 
 Fig. 37), and gradually collecting into larger 
 and larger streams. Wherever the slope was 
 sufficient the water would begin cutting into 
 the soil and carrying it off to the sea. This 
 action would be the same in any case, but, 
 of course, would differ in rapidity according 
 to the hardness of the ground. On the 
 other hand, the character of the valley 
 would depend greatly on the character of 
 the strata, being narrow where they were 
 hard and tough ; broader, on the contrary, 
 where they were soft, so that they crumbled 
 readily into the stream, or where they were 
 easily split by the weather. Gradually the 
 stream would eat into its bed until it reached 
 a certain slope, the steepness of which would 
 depend on the volume of water. The erosive 
 action would then cease, but the weathering 
 of the sides and consequent widening would 
 
vm RIVERS AND LAKES 325 
 
 continue, and the river would wander from 
 one part of its valley to another, spreading 
 the materials and forming a river plain. At 
 length, as the rapidity still further diminished, 
 it would no longer have sufficient power even 
 to carry off the materials brought down. It 
 would form, therefore, a cone or delta, and 
 instead of meandering, would tend to divide 
 into different branches. These three stages, 
 we may call those of 
 
 1. Deepening and widening ; 
 
 2. Widening and levelling ; 
 
 3. Filling up; 
 
 and every place in the second stage has passed 
 through the first ; every one in the third has 
 passed through the second. 
 
 A velocity of 6 inches per second will lift 
 fine sand, 8 inches will move sand as coarse 
 as linseed, 12 inches will sweep along fine 
 gravel, 24 inches will roll along rounded 
 pebbles an inch diameter, and it requires 3 
 feet per second at the bottom to sweep along 
 angular stones of the size of an egg. 
 
 When a river has so adjusted its slope that 
 it neither deepens its bed in the upper portion 
 
326 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 of its course, nor deposits materials, it is said 
 to have acquired its " regimen/' and in such 
 a case if the character of the soil remains the 
 same, the velocity must also be uniform. The 
 enlargement of the bed of a river is not, how- 
 ever, in proportion to the increase of its wa- 
 ters as it approaches the sea. If, therefore, 
 the slope did not diminish, the regimen would 
 be destroyed, and the river would again com- 
 mence to eat out its bed. Hence as rivers 
 enlarge, the slope diminishes, and consequently 
 every river tends to assume some such "regi- 
 men " as that shown in Fig. 46. 
 
 Now, suppose that the fall of the river is 
 again increased, either by a fresh elevation, 
 or locally by the removal of a barrier. Then 
 once more the river regains its energy. Again 
 it cuts into its old bed, deepening the valley, 
 and leaving the old plain as a terrace high 
 above its new course. In many valleys sev- 
 eral such terraces may be seen, one above 
 the other. In the case of a river running in a 
 transverse valley, that is to say of a valley 
 lying at right angles to the "strike" or direc- 
 tion of the strata (such, for instance, as the 
 
viii RIVERS AND LAKES 327 
 
 Reuss), the water acts more effectively than 
 in longitudinal valleys running along the 
 strike. Hence the lateral valleys have been 
 less deeply excavated than that of the Reuss 
 itself, and the streams from them enter the 
 main valley by rapids or cascades. Again, 
 rivers running in transverse valleys cross 
 rocks which in many cases differ in hardness, 
 and of course they cut down the softer strata 
 more rapidly than the harder ones ; each ridge 
 of harder rock will therefore form a dam and 
 give rise to a rapid, or cataract. We often 
 as we ascend a river, after a comparatively 
 flat plain, find ourselves in a narrow defile, 
 down which the water rushes in an impet- 
 uous torrent, but at the summit of which, 
 to our surprise, we find another broad flat 
 valley. 
 
 Another lesson which we learn from the 
 study of river valleys, is that, just as geological 
 structure was shown by Sir C. Lyell to be no 
 evidence of cataclysms, but the result of slow 
 action; so also the excavation of valleys is 
 due mainly to the regular flow of rivers ; and 
 floods, though their effects are more sudden 
 
328 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 and striking, have had, after all, comparatively 
 little part in the result. 
 
 The mouths of rivers fall into two princi- 
 pal classes. If we look at any map we cannot 
 but be struck by the fact that some rivers 
 terminate in a delta, some in an estuary. The 
 Thames, for instance, ends in a noble estuary, 
 to which London owes much of its wealth 
 and power. It is obvious that the Thames 
 could not have excavated this estuary while 
 the coast was at its present level. But we 
 know that formerly the land stood higher, 
 that the German Ocean was once dry land, 
 and the Thames, after joining the Rhine, ran 
 northwards, and fell eventually into the Arctic 
 Ocean. The estuary of the Thames, then, 
 dates back to a period when the south-east of 
 England stood at a higher level than the 
 present, and even now the ancient course of 
 the river can be traced by soundings under 
 what is now sea. The sites of present deltas, 
 say of the Nile, were also once under water, 
 and have been gradually reclaimed by the 
 deposits of the river. 
 
 It would indeed be a great mistake to 
 
vnt RIVERS AND LAKES 329 
 
 suppose that rivers always tend to deepen 
 their valleys. This is only the case when the 
 slope exceeds a certain angle. When the fall 
 is but slight they tend on the contrary to 
 raise their beds by depositing sand and mud 
 brought down from higher levels. Hence in 
 the lower part of their course many of the 
 most celebrated rivers the Nile, the Po, the 
 Mississippi, the Thames, etc. run upon em- 
 bankments, partly of their own creation. 
 
 A n 
 
 Fig. 48. Diagrammatic section of a valley (exaggerated) 
 
 R R, rocky basis of valley; A A, sedimentary strata; B, ordinary level 
 of river; C, flood level. 
 
 The Reno, the most dangerous of all the 
 Apennine rivers, is in some places as much as 
 30 feet above the adjoining country. Rivers 
 under such conditions, when not interfered 
 with by Man, sooner or later break through 
 their banks, and leaving their former bed, 
 take a new course along the lowest part of 
 
330 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 their valley, which again they gradually raise 
 above the rest. Hence, unless they are kept 
 in their own channels by human agency, 
 such rivers are continually changing their 
 course. 
 
 If we imagine a river running down a 
 regularly inclined plane in a more or less 
 straight line ; any inequality or obstruction 
 would produce an oscillation, which when 
 once started would go on increasing until 
 the force of gravity drawing the water in a 
 straight line downwards equals that of the 
 force tending to divert its course. Hence the 
 radius of the curves will follow a regular law 
 depending on the volume of water and the 
 angle of inclination of the bed. If the fall 
 is 10 feet per mile and the soil homogeneous, 
 the curves would be so much extended that 
 the course would appear almost straight. 
 With a fall of 1 foot per mile the length of 
 the curve is, according to Fergusson, about 
 six times the width of the river, so that a 
 river 1000 feet wide would oscillate once in 
 6000 feet. This is an important considera- 
 tion, and much labour has been lost in trying 
 
vni RIVERS AND LAKES 331 
 
 to prevent rivers from following their natural 
 law of oscillation. But rivers are very true to 
 their own laws, and a change at any part is 
 continued both upwards and downwards, so 
 that a new oscillation in any place cuts its 
 way through the whole plain of the river both 
 above and below. 
 
 The curves of the Mississippi are, for in- 
 stance, for a considerable part of its course 
 so regular that they are said to have been 
 used by the Indians as a measure of dis- 
 tance. 
 
 If the country is flat a river gradually 
 raises the level on each side, the water which 
 overflows during floods being retarded by 
 reeds, bushes, trees, and a thousand other 
 obstacles, gradually deposits the solid matter 
 which it contains, and thus raising the sur- 
 face, becomes at length suspended, as it were, 
 above the general level. When this elevation 
 has reached a certain point, the river during 
 some flood bursts its banks, and deserting its 
 old bed takes a new course along the lowest 
 accessible level. This then it gradually fills 
 up, and so on ; coming back from time to 
 
332 THE BEAUTIES OF KATURE CHAP. 
 
 time if permitted, after a long cycle of years, 
 to its first course. 
 
 In evidence of the vast quantity of sediment 
 which rivers deposit, I may mention that the 
 river-deposits at Calcutta are more than 400 
 feet in thickness. 
 
 In addition to temporary " spates," due to 
 heavy rain, most rivers are fuller at one time 
 of year than another, our rivers, for instance, 
 in winter, those of Switzerland, from the 
 melting of the snow, in summer. The Nile 
 commences to rise towards the beginning of 
 July ; from August to October it floods all the 
 low lands, and early in November it sinks 
 again. At its greatest height the volume of 
 water sometimes reaches twenty times that 
 when it is lowest, and yet perhaps not a 
 drop of rain may have fallen. Though we 
 now know that this annual variation is due 
 to the melting of the snow and the fall of 
 rain on the high lands of Central Africa, still 
 when we consider that the phenomenon has 
 been repeated annually for thousands of years 
 it is impossible not to regard it with wonder. 
 In fact Egypt itself may be said to be the 
 bed of the Nile in flood time. 
 
vin RIVERS AND LAKES 333 
 
 Some rivers, on the other hand, offer no 
 such periodical differences. The lower Rhone, 
 for instance, below the junction with the 
 Saone, is nearly equal all through the year, 
 and yet we know that the upper portion is 
 greatly derived from the melting of the Swiss 
 snows. In this case, however, while the 
 Rhone itself is on this account highest in 
 summer and lowest in winter, the Saone, on 
 the contrary, is swollen by the winter's rain, 
 and falls during the fine weather of summer. 
 Hence the two tend to counterbalance one 
 another. 
 
 Periodical differences are of course com- 
 paratively easy to deal with. It is very dif- 
 ferent with floods due to irregular rainfall. 
 Here also, however, the mere quantity of rain 
 is by no means the only matter to be con- 
 sidered. For instance a heavy rain in the 
 watershed of the Seine, unless very prolonged, 
 causes less difference in the flow of the river, 
 say at Paris, than might at first have been 
 expected, because the height of the flood in 
 the nearer affluents has passed down the river 
 before that from the more distant streams has 
 
334 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, vin 
 
 arrived. The highest level is reached when 
 the rain in the districts drained by the various 
 affluents happens to be so timed that the 
 different floods coincide in their arrival at 
 Paris. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SEA 
 
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
 There is society, where none intrudes, 
 By the deep Sea, and music in its roar : 
 I love not Man the less, but Nature more, 
 From these our interviews, in which I steal 
 From all I may be, or have been before, 
 To mingle with the Universe, and feel 
 What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. 
 
 Roll on, thou deep and dark-blue Ocean roll ! 
 
 BYROX. 
 

CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SEA 
 
 WHEN the glorious summer weather comes, 
 when we feel that by a year's honest work we 
 have fairly won the prize of a good holiday, 
 how we turn instinctively to the Sea. We 
 pine for the delicious smell of the sea air, the 
 murmur of the waves, the rushing sound of 
 the pebbles on the sloping shore, the cries of 
 the sea-birds; and long to 
 
 Linger, where the pebble-paven shore, 
 Under the quick, faint kisses of the Sea, 
 Trembles and sparkles as with ecstasy. 1 
 
 How beautiful the sea-coast is ! At the 
 foot of a cliff, perhaps of pure white chalk, or 
 rich red sandstone, or stern grey granite, lies 
 the shore of gravel or sand, with a few 
 
 1 Shelley. 
 
 Z 337 
 
338 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 scattered plants of blue Sea Holly, or yellow- 
 flowered Horned Poppies, Sea-kale, Sea Con- 
 volvulus, Saltwort, Artemisia, and Sea-grasses ; 
 the waves roll leisurely in one by one, and as 
 they reach the beach, each in turn rises up in 
 an arch of clear, cool, transparent, green 
 water, tipped with white or faintly pinkish 
 foam, and breaks lovingly on the sands ; 
 while beyond lies the open Sea sparkling in 
 the sunshine. 
 
 . . . O pleasant Sea 
 Earth hath not a plain 
 So boundless or so beautiful as thine. 1 
 
 The Sea is indeed at times overpoweringly 
 beautiful. At morning and evening a sheet 
 of living silver or gold, at mid-day deep blue ; 
 even 
 
 Too deeply blue ; too beautiful ; too bright ; 
 Oh, that the shadow of a cloud might rest 
 Somewhere upon the splendour of thy breast 
 In momentary gloom. 2 
 
 There are few prettier sights than the beach 
 at a seaside town on a fine summer's day ; 
 the waves sparkling in the sunshine, the water 
 
 1 Campbell, 2 Holmes, 
 
ix THE SEA 339 
 
 and sky each bluer than the other, while the 
 sea seems as if it had nothing to do but to 
 laugh and play with the children on the sands ; 
 the children perseveringly making castles with 
 spades and pails, which the waves then run 
 up to and wash away, over and over and 
 over again, until evening comes and the chil- 
 dren go home, when the Sea makes every- 
 thing smooth and ready for the next day's 
 play. 
 
 Many are satisfied to admire the Sea from 
 shore, others more ambitious or more free 
 prefer a cruise. They feel with Tennyson's 
 voyager : 
 
 We left behind the painted buoy 
 
 That tosses at the harbour-mouth ; 
 And madly danced our hearts with joy, 
 
 As fast we fleeted to the South : 
 How fresh was every sight and sound 
 
 On open main or winding shore ! 
 We knew the merry world was round, 
 
 And we might sail for evermore. 
 
 Many appreciate both. The long roll of 
 the Mediterranean on a fine day (and I sup- 
 pose even more of the Atlantic, which I have 
 never enjoyed), far from land in a good ship, 
 
340 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 and with kind friends, is a joy never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 To the Gulf Stream and the Atlantic Ocean 
 Northern Europe owes its mild climate. The 
 same latitudes on the other side of the Atlantic 
 are much colder. To find the same average 
 temperature in the United States we must go 
 far to the south. Immediately opposite us 
 lies Labrador, with an average temperature 
 the same as that of Greenland ; a coast 
 almost destitute of vegetation, a country of 
 snow and ice, whose principal wealth consists 
 in its furs, and a scattered population, mainly 
 composed of Indians and Esquimaux. But the 
 Atlantic would not alone produce so great an 
 effect. We owe our mild and genial climate 
 mainly to the Gulf Stream a river in the 
 ocean, twenty million times as great as the 
 Rhone the greatest, and for us the most 
 important, river in the world, which brings to 
 our shores the sunshine of the West Indies. 
 
 The Sea is outside time. A thousand, ten 
 thousand, or a million years ago it must have 
 looked just as it does now, and as it will ages 
 hence. With the land this is not so. The 
 
ix THE SEA 341 
 
 mountains and hills, rivers and valleys, 
 animals and plants are continually changing : 
 but the Sea is always the same, 
 
 Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same 
 Year after year. 
 
 Directly we see the coast, or even a ship, 
 the case is altered. Boats may remain the 
 same for centuries, but ships are continually 
 being changed. The wooden walls of old 
 England are things of the past, and the iron- 
 clads of to-day will soon be themselves im- 
 proved off the face of the ocean. 
 
 The great characteristic of Lakes is peace, 
 that of the Sea is energy, somewhat restless, 
 perhaps, but still movement without fatigue. 
 
 The Earth lies quiet like a child asleep, 
 The deep heart of the Heaven is calm and still, 
 Must thou alone a restless vigil keep, 
 And with thy sobbing all the silence fill. 1 
 
 A Lake in a storm rather gives us the impres- 
 sion of a beautiful Water Spirit tormented by 
 some Evil Demon ; but a storm at Sea is one 
 of the grandest manifestations of Nature, 
 i Bell. 
 
342 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Yet more ; the billows and the depths have more ; 
 
 High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ; 
 They hear not now the booming waters roar, 
 
 The battle thunders will not break their rest. 
 
 Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave ; 
 
 Give back the true and brave. 1 
 
 The most vivid description of a storm, at 
 sea is, I think, the following passage from 
 Raskin's Modern Painters : 
 
 "Few people, comparatively, have ever 
 seen the effect on the sea of a powerful gale 
 continued without intermission for three or 
 four days and nights ; and to those who have 
 not, I believe it must be unimaginable, not 
 from the mere force or size of the surge, but 
 from the complete annihilation of the limit 
 between sea and air. The water from its pro- 
 longed agitation is beaten, not into mere 
 creaming foam, but into masses of accumu- 
 lated yeast, which hangs in ropes and wreaths 
 from wave to wave, and, where one curls over 
 to break, form a festoon like a drapery from 
 its edge ; these are taken up by the wind, not 
 in dissipating dust, but bodily, in writhing, 
 hanging, coiling masses, which make the air 
 
 i Hemans. 
 
ix THE SEA 343 
 
 white and thick as with snow, only the flakes 
 are a foot or two long each : the surges them- 
 selves are full of foam in their very bodies 
 underneath, making them white all through, 
 as the water is under a great cataract ; and 
 their masses, being thus half water and half 
 air, are torn to pieces by the wind whenever 
 they rise, and carried away in roaring smoke, 
 which chokes and strangles like actual water. 
 Add to this, that when the air has been ex- 
 hausted of its moisture by long rain, the spray 
 of the sea is caught by it as described above, 
 and covers its surface not merely with the 
 smoke of finely divided water, but with boil- 
 ing mist ; imagine also the low rain-clouds 
 brought down to the very level of the sea, as 
 I have often seen them, whirling and flying in 
 rags and fragments from wave to wave ; and 
 finally, conceive the surges themselves in their 
 utmost pitch of power, velocity, vastness, and 
 madness, lifting themselves in precipices and 
 peaks, furrowed with their whirl of ascent, 
 through all this chaos, and you will under- 
 stand that there is indeed no distinction left 
 between the sea and air ; that no object, nor 
 
344 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 horizon, nor any landmark or natural evidence 
 of position is left ; and the heaven is all spray, 
 and the ocean all cloud, and that you can see 
 no further in any direction than you see 
 through a cataract." 
 
 SEA LIFE 
 
 The Sea teems with life. The Great Sea 
 Serpent is, indeed, as much a myth as the 
 Kraken of Pontoppidan, but other monsters, 
 scarcely less marvellous, are actual realities. 
 The Giant Cuttle Fish of Newfoundland, 
 though the body is comparatively small, may 
 measure 60 feet from the tip of one arm to 
 that of another. The Whalebone Whale 
 reaches a length of over 70 feet, but is timid 
 and inoffensive. The Cachalot or Sperm 
 Whale, which almost alone among animals 
 roams over the whole ocean, is as large, and 
 much more formidable. It is armed with 
 powerful teeth, and is said to feed mainly on 
 Cuttle Fish, but sometimes on true fishes, or 
 even Seals. When wounded it often attacks 
 boats, and its companions do not hesitate to 
 
ix THE SEA 345 
 
 come to the rescue. In one case, indeed, an 
 American ship was actually attacked, stove 
 in, and sunk by a gigantic male Cachalot. 
 
 The Great Roqual is still more formidable, 
 and has been said to attain a length of 120 
 feet, but this is probably an exaggeration. 
 So far as we know, the largest species of all 
 is Simmond's Whale, which reaches a maxi- 
 mum of 85 to 90 feet. 
 
 In former times Whales were frequent on 
 our coasts, so that, as Bishop Pontoppidan 
 said, the sea sometimes appeared as if covered 
 with smoking chimneys, but they have been 
 gradually driven further and further north, 
 and are still becoming rarer. As they re- 
 treated man followed, and to them we owe 
 much of our progress in geography. Is it 
 not, however, worth considering whether they 
 might not also be allowed a " truce of God," 
 whether some part of the ocean might not be 
 allotted to them where they might be allowed 
 to breed in peace ? As a mere mercantile 
 arrangement the maritime nations would prob- 
 ably find this very remunerative. The reck- 
 less slaughter of Whales, Sea Elephants, Seals, 
 
346 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 and other marine animals is a sad blot, not 
 only on the character, but on the common 
 sense, of man. 
 
 The monsters of the ocean require large 
 quantities of food, but they are supplied 
 abundantly. Scoresby mentions cases in 
 which the sea was for miles tinged of an 
 olive green by a species of Medusa. He 
 calculates that in a cubic mile there must 
 have been 23,888,000,000,000,000, and though 
 no doubt the living mass did not reach to any 
 great depth, still, as he sailed through water 
 thus discoloured for many miles, the number 
 must have been almost incalculable. 
 
 This is, moreover, no rare or exceptional 
 case. Navigators often sail for leagues 
 through shoals of creatures, which alter the 
 whole colour of the sea, and actually change 
 it, as Reclus says, into " une masse animee." 
 
 Still, though the whole ocean teems with 
 life, both animals and plants are most abun- 
 dant near the coast. Air-breathing animals, 
 whether mammals or insects, are naturally 
 not well adapted to live far from dry land. 
 Even Seals, though some of them make re- 
 
ix THE SEA 347 
 
 markable migrations, remain habitually near 
 the shore. Whales alone are specially modified 
 so as to make the wide ocean their home. Of 
 birds the greatest wanderer is the Albatross, 
 which has such powers of flight that it is said 
 even to sleep on the wing. 
 
 Many Pelagic animals Jelly-fishes, Mol- 
 luscs, Cuttle-fishes, Worms, Crustacea, and 
 some true fishes are remarkable for having 
 become perfectly transparent ; their shells, 
 muscles, and even their blood have lost all 
 colour, or even undergone the further modifi- 
 cation of having become blue, often with 
 beautiful opalescent reflections. This obvi- 
 ously renders them less visible, and less liable 
 to danger. 
 
 The sea-shore, wherever a firm hold can be 
 obtained, is covered with Sea-weeds, which 
 fall roughly into two main divisions, olive- 
 green and red, the latter colour having a special 
 relation to light. These Sea-weeds afford 
 food and shelter to innumerable animals. 
 
 The clear rocky pools left by the retiring 
 tide are richly clothed with green sea-weeds, 
 while against the sides are tufts of beautiful 
 
348 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 filmy red algae, interspersed with Sea-anem- 
 ones/ white, creamy, pink, yellow, purple, 
 with a coronet of blue beads, and of many 
 mixed colours ; Sponges, Corallines, Starfish, 
 Limpets, Barnacles, and other shell-fish ; 
 feathery Zoophytes and Annelides expand their 
 pink or white disks, while here and there a 
 Crab scuttles across ; little Fish or Shrimps 
 timidly come out from crevices in the rocks, 
 or from among the fronds of the sea-weeds, or 
 hastily dart from shelter to shelter ; each 
 little pool is, in fact, a miniature ocean in 
 itself, and the longer one looks the more and 
 more one will see. 
 
 The dark green and brown sea-weeds do 
 not live beyond a few say about 15 
 fathoms in depth. Below them occur delicate 
 scarlet species, with Corallines and a different 
 set of shells, Sea-urchins, etc. Down to about 
 100 fathoms the animals and plants are still 
 numerous and varied. But they gradually 
 diminish in numbers, and are replaced by new 
 forms. 
 
 To appreciate fully the extreme loveliness 
 of marine animals they must be seen alive. 
 
ix THE SEA 349 
 
 "A tuft of Sertularia, laden with white, or 
 brilliantly tinted Polyp ites," says Hincks, 
 "like blossoms on some tropical tree, is .a per- 
 fect marvel of beauty. The unfolding of a 
 mass of Plumularia, taken from amongst the 
 miscellaneous contents of the dredge, and 
 thrown into a bottle of clear sea- water, is a 
 sight which, once seen, no dredger will for- 
 get. A tree of Campanularia, when each one 
 of its thousand transparent calycles itself a 
 study of form is crowned by a circlet of 
 beaded arms, drooping over its margin like 
 the petals of a flower^ offers a rare combi- 
 nation of the elements of beauty. 
 
 The rocky wall of some deep tidal pool, 
 thickly studded with the long and slender 
 stems of Tubularia, surmounted by the bright 
 rose-coloured heads, is like the gay parterre 
 of a garden. Equally beautiful is the dense 
 growth of Campanularia, covering (as I have 
 seen it in Plymouth Sound) large tracts of the 
 rock, its delicate shoots swaying to and fro 
 with each movement of the water, like trees 
 in a storm, or the colony of Obelia on the 
 waving frond of the tangle looking almost 
 
350 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 ethereal in its grace, transparency, and deli- 
 cacy, as seen against the coarse dark surface 
 that supports it." 
 
 Few things are more beautiful than to look 
 down from a boat into transparent water. 
 At the bottom wave graceful sea-weeds, brown, 
 green, or rose-coloured, and of most varied 
 forms ; on them and on the sands or rocks 
 rest starfishes, mollusca, crustaceans, Sea- 
 anemones, and innumerable other animals of 
 strange forms and varied colours ; in the clear 
 water float or dart about endless creatures; 
 true fishes, many of them brilliantly coloured ; 
 Cuttle-fishes like bad dreams ; Lobsters and 
 Crabs with graceful, transparent Shrimps ; 
 Worms swimming about like living ribbons, 
 some with thousands of coloured eyes, and 
 Medusae like living glass of the richest and 
 softest hues, or glittering in the sunshine with 
 all the colours of the rainbow. 
 
 And on calm, cool nights how often have I 
 stood on the deck of a ship watching with 
 wonder and awe the stars overhead, and the 
 sea-fire below, especially in the foaming, 
 silvery wake of the vessel, where often sud- 
 
ix THE SEA 351 
 
 denly appear globes of soft and lambent light, 
 given out perhaps from the surface of some 
 large Medusa. 
 
 "A beautiful white cloud of foarn," says 
 Coleridge, "at momently intervals coursed by 
 the side of the vessel with a roar, and little 
 stars of flame danced and sparkled and went 
 out in it ; and every now and then light de- 
 tachments of this white cloud-like foam darted 
 off from the vessel's side, each with its own 
 small constellation, over the sea, and scoured 
 out of sight like a Tartar troop over a wilder- 
 
 ness." 
 
 Fish also are sometimes luminous. The 
 Sun-fish has been seen to glow like a white- 
 hot cannon-ball, and in one species of Shark 
 (Squalus fulgens) the whole surface sometimes 
 gives out a greenish lurid light which makes 
 it a most ghastly object, like some great 
 ravenous spectre. 
 
 .THE OCEAN DEPTHS 
 
 The Land bears a rich harvest of life, but 
 only at the surface. The Ocean, on the con- 
 
352 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 trary, though more richly peopled in its upper 
 layers, which swarm with such innumerable 
 multitudes of living creatures that they are, 
 so to say, almost themselves alive teems 
 throughout with living beings. 
 
 The deepest abysses have a fauna of their 
 own, which makes up for the comparative 
 scantiness of its numbers, by the peculiarity 
 and interest of their forms and organisation. 
 The middle waters are the home of various 
 Fishes, Medusae, and animalcules, while the 
 upper layers swarm with an inexhaustible 
 variety of living creatures. 
 
 It used to be supposed that the depths of 
 the Ocean were destitute of animal life, but 
 recent researches, and especially those made 
 during our great national expedition in the 
 "Challenger," have shown that this is not 
 the case, but that the Ocean depths have a 
 wonderful and peculiar life of their own. 
 Fish have been dredged up even from a depth 
 of 2750 fathoms. 
 
 The conditions of life in the Ocean depths 
 are very peculiar. The light of the sun can- 
 not penetrate beyond about two hundred 
 
ix THE SEA 353 
 
 fathoms ; deeper than this complete darkness 
 prevails. Hence in many species the eyes 
 have more or less completely disappeared. 
 
 Sir Wyville Thomson mentions a kind of 
 Crab (Ethusa granulata), which when living 
 near the surface has well developed eyes ; in 
 deeper water, 100 to 400 fathoms, eyestalks 
 are present, but the animal is apparently 
 blind, the eyes themselves being absent ; 
 while in specimens from a depth of 500-700 
 fathoms the eyestalks themselves have lost 
 their special character, and have become 
 fixed, their terminations being combined into 
 a strong, pointed beak. 
 
 In other deep sea creatures, on the con- 
 trary, the eyes gradually become more and 
 more developed, so that while in some species 
 the eyes gradually dwindle, in others they 
 become unusually large. 
 
 Many of the latter species may be said to 
 be a light to themselves, being provided with 
 a larger or smaller number of curious luminous 
 organs. The deep sea fish are either silvery^ 
 pink, or in many cases black, sometimes re- 
 lieved with scarlet, and when the luminous 
 
 2 A 
 
354 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 organs flash out must present a very remark- 
 able appearance. 
 
 We have still much to learn as to the 
 structure and functions of these organs, but 
 there are cases in which their use can be 
 surmised with some probability. The light- 
 is evidently under the will of the fish. 1 It is 
 easy to imagine a Photichthys (Light Fish) 
 swimming in the black depths of the Ocean, 
 suddenly flashing out light from its luminous 
 organs, and thus bringing into view any prey 
 which may be near ; while, if danger is dis- 
 closed, the light is again at once extinguished. 
 It may be observed that the largest of these 
 organs is in this species situated just under 
 the eye, so that the fish is actually provided 
 with a bull's eye lantern. In other cases the 
 light may rather serve as a defence, some 
 having, as, for instance, in the genus Scope- 
 lus, a pair of large ones in the tail, so that 
 " a strong ray of light shot forth from the 
 stern-chaser may dazzle and frighten an 
 enemy." 
 
 In other cases they appear to serve as 
 
 1 Gunther, History of Fishes. 
 
ix THE SEA 355 
 
 lures. The " Sea-devil "or" Angler " of 
 our coasts has on its head three long, very 
 flexible, reddish filaments, while all round its 
 head are fringed appendages, closely resem- 
 bling fronds of sea-weed. The fish conceals 
 itself at the bottom, in the sand or among 
 sea-weed, and dangles the long filaments in 
 front of its mouth. Little fishes, taking these 
 filaments for worms, unsuspectingly approach, 
 and thus fall victims. 
 
 Several species of the same family live at 
 great depths, and have very similar habits. 
 A mere red filament would be invisible in the 
 dark and therefore useless. They have, how- 
 ever, developed a luminous organ, a living 
 " glow-lamp," at the end of the filament, 
 which doubtless proves a very effective lure. 
 
 In the great depths, however, fish are com- 
 paratively rare. Nor are Molluscs much more 
 abundant. Sea-urchins, Sea Slugs, and Star- 
 fish are more numerous, and on one occasion 
 20,000 specimens of an Echinus were brought 
 up at a single haul. True corals are rare, nor 
 are Hydrozoa frequent, though a gaint species, 
 allied to the little Hydra of our ponds but 
 
356 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 upwards of 6 feet in height, has more than 
 once been met with. Sponges are numerous, 
 and often very beautiful. The now well 
 known Euplectella, " Venus' s Flower-basket," 
 resembles an exquisitely delicate fabric woven 
 in spun silk ; it is in the form of a gracefully 
 curved tube, expanding slightly upwards and 
 ending in an elegant frill. The wall is formed 
 of parallel bands of glassy siliceous fibres, 
 crossed by others at right angles, so as to 
 form a square meshed net. These sponges 
 are anchored on the fine ooze by wisps of 
 glassy filaments, which often attain a con- 
 siderable length. Many of these beautiful 
 organisms, moreover, glow when alive with 
 a soft diffused light, flickering and sparkling 
 at every touch. What would one not give 
 to be able to wander a while in these wonder- 
 ful regions ! 
 
 It is curious that no plants, so far as we 
 know, grow in the depths of the Ocean, or, 
 indeed, as far as our present information goes, 
 at a greater depth than about 100 fathoms. 
 
 As regards the nature of the bottom itself, 
 it is in the neighbourhood of land mainly 
 
ix THE SEA 357 
 
 composed of materials, brought down by 
 rivers or washed from the shore, coarser near 
 the coast, and tending to become finer and 
 finer as the distance increases and the water 
 deepens. The bed of the Atlantic from 400 
 to 2000 fathoms is covered with an ooze, or 
 very fine chalky deposit, consisting to a great 
 extent of minute and more or less broken 
 shells, especially those of Globigerina. At 
 still greater depths the carbonate of lime 
 gradually disappears, and the bottom consists 
 of fine red clay, with numerous minute parti- 
 cles, some of volcanic, some of meteoric, origin, 
 fragments of shooting stars, over 100,000,000 
 of which are said to strike the surface of our 
 earth every year. How slow the process of 
 deposition must be, may be inferred from the 
 fact that the trawl sometimes brings up many 
 teeth of Sharks and ear-bones of Whales (in 
 one case no less than 600 teeth and 100 ear- 
 bones), often semi-fossil, and which from their 
 great density had remained intact for ages, 
 long after all the softer parts had perished 
 and disappeared. 
 
 The greatest depth of the Ocean appears 
 
 /''y* OP 
 
 //Vf 
 
 fcL-H 
 
358 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 to coincide roughly with the greatest height 
 of the mountains. There are indeed cases 
 recorded in which it is said that "no bottom" 
 was found even at 39,000 feet. It is, how- 
 ever, by no means easy to sound at such great 
 depths, and it is now generally considered 
 that these earlier observations are untrust- 
 worthy. The greatest depth known in the 
 Atlantic is 3875 fathoms a little to the 
 north of the Virgin Islands, but the sound- 
 ings as yet made in the deeper parts of the 
 Ocean are few in number, and it is not to be 
 supposed that the greatest depth has yet been 
 ascertained. 
 
 CORAL ISLANDS 
 
 In many parts of the world the geography 
 itself has been modified by the enormous de- 
 velopment of animal life. Most islands fall 
 into one of three principal categories : 
 
 Firstar, Those which are in reality a part 
 of the continent near which they lie, being 
 connected by comparatively shallow water, 
 and standing to the continent somewhat in 
 
IX 
 
 THE SEA 
 
 359 
 
 the relation of planets to the sun; as, for 
 instance, the Cape de Verde Islands to Africa, 
 Ceylon to India, or Tasmania to Australia. 
 Secondly, Volcanic islands ; and 
 Thirdly, Those which owe their origin to 
 the growth of Coral reefs. 
 
 Fig. 49. Whitsunday Island. 
 
 Coral islands are especially numerous in 
 the Indian and Pacific Oceans, where there 
 are innumerable islets, in the form of rings, 
 or which together form rings, the rings them- 
 selves being sometimes made up of ringlets. 
 These "atolls" contain a circular basin of 
 yellowish green, clear, shallow water, while 
 outside is the dark blue deep water of the 
 Ocean. The islands themselves are quite low, 
 with a beach of white sand rising but a few 
 
360 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 feet above the level of the water, and bear 
 generally groups of tufted Cocoa Palms. 
 
 It used to be supposed that these were the 
 summits of submarine volcanoes on which the 
 coral had grown. But as the reef-making 
 coral does not live at greater depths than 
 about twenty-five fathoms, the immense 
 number of these reefs formed an almost 
 insuperable objection to this theory. The 
 Laccadives and Maldives for instance mean- 
 ing literally the " lac of or 100,000 islands," 
 and the " thousand islands" are a series of 
 such atolls, and it was impossible to imagine 
 so great a number of craters, all so nearly of 
 the same altitude. 
 
 In shallow tracts of sea, coral reefs no 
 doubt tend to assume the well-known circular 
 form, but the difficulty was to account for 
 the numerous atolls which rise to the surface 
 form the abysses of the ocean, while the coral- 
 forming zoophytes can only live near the 
 surface. 
 
 Darwin showed that so far from the 
 ring of corals resting on a corresponding 
 ridge of rocks, the lagoons, on the contrary, 
 
ix THE SEA 361 
 
 now occupy the place which was once the 
 highest land. He pointed out that some 
 lagoons, as for instance that of Vanikoro, 
 contain an island in the middle ; while other 
 islands, such as Tahiti, are surrounded by a 
 margin of smooth water separated from the 
 ocean by a coral reef. Now if we suppose 
 that Tahiti were to sink slowly it would 
 gradually approximate to the condition of 
 Yanikoro ; and if Vanikoro gradually sank, 
 the central island would disappear, while on 
 the contrary the growth of the coral might 
 neutralise the subsidence of the reef, so that 
 we should have simply an atoll with its 
 lagoon. The same considerations explain the 
 origin of the "barrier reefs," such as that 
 which runs for nearly a thousand miles, along 
 the north-east coast of Australia. Thus 
 Darwin's theory explains the form and the 
 approximate identity of altitude of these 
 coral islands. But it does more than 
 this, because it shows that there are great 
 areas in process of subsidence, which though 
 slow, is of great importance in physical 
 geography. 
 
362 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 The lagoon islands have received much 
 attention ; which " is not surprising, for every 
 one must be struck with astonishment, when 
 he first beholds one of these vast rings of 
 coral-rock, often many leagues in diameter, 
 here and there surmounted by a low verdant 
 island with dazzling white shores, bathed on 
 the outside by the foaming breakers of the 
 ocean, and on the inside surrounding a calm 
 expanse of water, which, from reflection is 
 generally of a bright but pale green colour. 
 The naturalist will feel this astonishment more 
 deeply after having examined the soft and 
 almost gelatinous bodies of these apparently 
 insignificant coral-polypifers, and when he 
 knows that the solid reef increases only on the 
 outer edge, which day and night is lashed by 
 the breakers of an ocean never at rest. Well 
 did Francois Pyrard de Laval, in the year 
 1605 exclaim, ' C'est une -merveille de voir 
 chacun de ces atollons, environne d'un grand 
 bane de pierre tout autour, n'y ayant point 
 d' artifice hum am.' " l 
 
 Of the enchanting beauty of the coral beds 
 
 1 Darwin, Coral Beefs. 
 
ix THE SEA 363 
 
 themselves we are assured that language con- 
 veys no adequate idea. " There were corals," 
 says Prof. Ball, " which, in their living state, 
 are of many shades of fawn, buff, pink, and 
 blue, while some were tipped with a magenta- 
 like bloom. Sponges which looked as hard as 
 stone spread over wide areas, while sprays of 
 coralline added their graceful forms to the 
 picture. Through the vistas so formed, golden- 
 banded and metallic-blue fish meandered, while 
 on the patches of sand here and there Holo- 
 thurias and various mollusca and crustaceans 
 might be seen slowly crawling." 
 
 Abercromby also gives a very graphic 
 description of a Coral reef. "As we ap- 
 proached," he says, " the roaring surf on 
 the outside, fingery lumps of beautiful live 
 coral began to appear of the palest lavender- 
 blue colour ; and when at last we were almost 
 within the spray, the whole floor was one 
 mass of living branches of coral. 
 
 " But it is only when venturing as far as is 
 prudent into the water, over the outward edge 
 of the great sea wall, that the true character 
 of the reef and all the beauties of the ocean 
 
364 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 can be really seen. After walking over a flat 
 uninteresting tract of nearly bare rock, you 
 look down and see a steep irregular wall, 
 expanding deeper into the ocean than the eye 
 can follow, and broken into lovely grottoes 
 and holes and canals, through which small 
 resplendent fish of the brightest blue or gold 
 flit fitfully between the lumps of coral. The 
 sides of these natural grottoes are entirely 
 covered with endless forms of tender-coloured 
 coral, but all beautiful, and all more or less of 
 the fingery or branching species, known as 
 madrepores. It is really impossible to draw 
 or describe the sight, which must be taken 
 with all its surroundings as adjuncts." l 
 
 The vegetation of these fairy lands is also 
 very lovely ; the Coral tree (Erythrina) with 
 light green leaves and bunches of scarlet 
 blossoms, the Cocoa-nut always beautiful, the 
 breadfruit, the graceful tree ferns, the 
 Barringtonia, with large pink and white 
 flowers, several species of Convolvulus, 
 and many others unknown to us even by 
 name. 
 
 1 Abercromby, Seas and Skies in many Latitudes. 
 
ix THE SEA 365 
 
 THE SOUTHERN SKIES 
 
 In considering these exquisite scenes, the 
 beauty of the Southern skies must not be 
 omitted. "From the time we entered the 
 torrid zone/' says Humboldt, "we were never 
 wearied with admiring, every night, the 
 beauty of the southern sky, which, as we 
 advanced towards the south, opened new 
 constellations to our view. We feel an inde- 
 scribable sensation, when, on approaching the 
 equator, and particularly on passing from 
 one hemisphere to the other, we see those 
 stars which we have contemplated from our 
 infancy, progressively sink, and finally dis- 
 appear. Nothing awakens in the traveller a 
 livelier remembrance of the immense distance 
 by which he is separated from his country, 
 than the aspect of an unknown firmament. 
 The grouping of the stars of the first magni- 
 tude, some scattered nebulae rivalling in 
 splendour the milky way, and tracts of space 
 remarkable for their extreme blackness, give 
 a particular physiognomy to the southern sky. 
 This sight fills with admiration even those, 
 
366 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 who, uninstructed in the branches of accurate 
 science, feel the same emotions of delight in 
 the contemplation of the heavenly vault, as 
 in the view of a beautiful landscape, or a 
 majestic river. A traveller has no need of 
 being a botanist to recognise the torrid zone 
 on the mere aspect of its vegetation; and, 
 without having acquired any notion of 
 astronomy, he feels he is not in Europe, when 
 he sees the immense constellation of the Ship, 
 or the phosphorescent clouds of Magellan, 
 arise on the horizon. The heaven and the 
 earth, in the equinoctial regions, assume an 
 exotic character." 
 
 " The sunsets in the Eastern Archipelago," 
 says H. 0. Forbes, 1 "were scenes to be re- 
 membered for a life-time. The tall cones of 
 Sibissie and Krakatoa rose dark purple out of 
 an unruffled golden sea, which stretched away 
 to the south-west, where the sun went down ; 
 over the horizon gray fleecy clouds lay in 
 banks and streaks, above them pale blue lanes 
 .of sky, alternating with orange bands, which 
 higher up gave place to an expanse of 
 
 1 A Naturalises Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago. 
 
ix THE SEA 367 
 
 red stretching round the whole heavens. 
 Gradually as the sun retreated deeper and 
 deeper, the sky became a marvellous golden 
 curtain, in front of which the gray clouds 
 coiled themselves into weird forms before 
 dissolving into space. ..." 
 
 0> 
 
 THE POLES 
 
 The Arctic and Antarctic regions have 
 always exercised a peculiar fascination over 
 the human mind. Until now every attempt 
 to reach the North Pole has failed, and the 
 South has proved even more inaccessible. 
 In the north, Parry all but reached lat. 83 ; 
 in the south no one has penetrated beyond 
 lat. 71.11. And yet, while no one can say 
 what there may be round the North Pole, and 
 some still imagine that open water might be 
 found there, we can picture to ourselves the 
 extreme South with somewhat more confidence. 
 
 Whenever ships have sailed southwards, 
 except at a few places where land has been 
 met with, they have come at last to a wall of 
 ice, from fifty to four hundred feet high. In 
 
368 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUKE CHAP. 
 
 those regions it snows, if not incessantly, at 
 least very frequently, and the snow melts but 
 little. As far as the eye can reach nothing is 
 to be seen but snow. Now this snow must 
 gradually accumulate, and solidify into ice, 
 until it attains such a slope that it will move 
 forward as a glacier. The enormous Icebergs 
 of the Southern Ocean, moreover, show that 
 it does so, and that the snow of the extreme 
 south, after condensing into ice, moves slowly 
 outward and at length forms a wall of ice, 
 from which Icebergs, from time to time, 
 break away. We do not exactly know what, 
 under such circumstances, the slope would 
 be ; but Mr. Croll points out that if we take 
 it at only half a degree, and this seems quite 
 a minimum, the Ice cap at the South Pole 
 must be no less than twelve miles in thickness. 
 It is indeed probably even more, for some of 
 the Southern tabular icebergs attain a height 
 of eight hundred, or even a thousand feet 
 above water, indicating a total thickness of 
 the ice sheet even at the edge, of over a mile. 
 Sir James Ross mentions that " Whilst 
 measuring some angles for the survey near 
 
ix THE SEA 369 
 
 Mount Lubbock an island suddenly appeared, 
 which he was quite sure was not to be seen 
 two or three hours previously. He was much 
 astonished, but it eventually turned out to be 
 a large iceberg, which had turned over, and so 
 exposed a new surface covered with earth and 
 stones." 
 
 The condition of the Arctic regions is quite 
 different. There is much more land, and no 
 such enormous solid cap of ice. Spitzbergen, 
 the land of " pointed mountains," is said to be 
 very beautiful. Lord Dufferin describes his 
 first view of it as " a forest of thin lilac peaks, 
 so faint, so pale, that had it not been for 
 the gem-like distinctness of their outline one 
 could have deemed them as unsubstantial as 
 the spires of Fairy-land." 
 
 It is, however, very desolate ; scarcely any 
 vegetation excepting a dark moss, and even 
 this goes but a little way up the mountain 
 side. Scoresby ascended one of the hills near 
 Horn Sound, and describes the view as " most 
 extensive and grand. A fine sheltered bay 
 was seen to the east of us, an arm of the same 
 on the north-east, and the sea, whose glassy 
 
 2B 
 
370 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP, 
 
 surface was unruffled by a breeze, formed an 
 immense expanse on the west ; the glaciers," 
 rearing their proud crests almost to the tops 
 of mountains between which they were lodged, 
 and defying the power of the solar beams, 
 were scattered in various directions about the 
 sea-coast and in the adjoining bays. Beds of 
 snow and ice filling extensive hollows, and 
 giving an enamelled coat to adjoining valleys, 
 one of which, commencing at the foot of the 
 mountain where we stood, extended in a con- 
 tinual line towards the north, as far as the eye 
 could reach mountain rising above moun- 
 tain, until by distance they dwindled into 
 insignificance, the whole contrasted by a cloud- 
 less canopy of deepest azure, and enlightened 
 by the rays of a blazing sun, and the effect, 
 aided by a feeling of danger, seated as we 
 were on the pinnacle of a rock almost sur- 
 rounded by tremendous precipices all united 
 to constitute a picture singularly sublime." 
 
 One of the glaciers of Spitzbergen is 11 
 miles in breadth when it reaches the sea- 
 coast, th& highest part of the precipitous front 
 adjoining the sea being over 400 feet, and it 
 
ix THE SEA 371 
 
 extends far upwards towards the summit of 
 the mountain. The surface forms an inclined 
 plane of smooth unsullied snow, the beauty 
 and brightness of which render it a con- 
 spicuous landmark on that inhospitable shore. 
 From the perpendicular face great masses of 
 ice from time to time break away, 
 
 Whose blocks of sapphire seem to mortal eye 
 Hewn from cserulean quarries of the sky. 1 
 
 Field ice is comparatively flat, though it 
 may be piled up perhaps as much as 50 feet. 
 It is from glaciers that true icebergs, the 
 beauty and brilliance of which Arctic trav- 
 ellers are never tired of describing, take their 
 origin. 
 
 The attempts to reach the North Pole have 
 cost many valuable lives; Willoughby and 
 Hudson, Behring and Franklin, and many 
 other brave mariners ; but yet there are few 
 expeditions more popular than those to " the 
 Arctic," and we cannot but hope that it is 
 still reserved for the British Navy after so 
 many gallant attempts at length to reach the 
 North Pole. 
 
 1 Montgomery. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS 
 
A man can hardly lift up his eyes towards the heavens 
 without wonder and veneration, to see so many millions of 
 radiant lights, and to observe their courses and revolutions, 
 even without any respect to the common good of the 
 Universe. SENECA. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE STAERY HEAVENS 
 
 MANY years ago I paid a visit to Naples, 
 and ascended Vesuvius to see the sun rise from 
 the top of the mountain. We went up to 
 the Observatory in the evening and spent the 
 night outside. The sky was clear; at our 
 feet was the sea, and round the bay the lights 
 of Naples formed a lovely semicircle. Far 
 more beautiful, however, were the moon and 
 the stars overhead ; the moon throwing a 
 silver path over the water, and the stars 
 shining in that clear atmosphere with a 
 brilliance which I shall never forget. 
 
 For ages and ages past men have admired 
 the same glorious spectacle, and yet neither 
 the imagination of Man nor the genius of 
 Poetry had risen to the truer and grander 
 
 375 
 
376 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 conceptions of the Heavens for which we 
 are indebted to astronomical Science. The 
 mechanical contrivances by which it was 
 attempted to explain the movements of the 
 heavenly bodies were clumsy and prosaic 
 when compared with the great discovery of 
 Newton. Kuskin is unjust I think when he 
 says " Science teaches us that the clouds are 
 a sleety mist ; Art, that they are a golden 
 throne." I should be the last to disparage 
 the debt we owe to Art, but for our knowl- 
 edge, and even more, for bur appreciation, 
 feeble as even yet it is, of the overwhelming 
 grandeur of the Heavens, we are mainly in- 
 debted to Science. 
 
 There is scarcely a form which the fancy of 
 Man has not sometimes detected in the clouds, 
 chains of mountains, splendid cities, storms 
 at sea, flights of birds, groups of animals, 
 monsters of all kinds, and our superstitious 
 ancestors often terrified themselves by fantas- 
 tic visions of arms and warriors and battles 
 which they regarded as portents of coming 
 calamities. There is hardly a day on which 
 Clouds do not delight and surprise us by their 
 

THE MOOX. 
 
 To face pat ye 377. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 377 
 
 forms and colours. They belong, however, to 
 our Earth, and I must now pass on to the 
 heavenly bodies. 
 
 THE MOON 
 
 The Moon is the nearest, and being the 
 nearest, appears to us, with the single excep- 
 tion of the Sun, the largest, although it is in 
 reality one of the smallest, of the heavenly 
 bodies. Just as the Earth goes round the 
 Sun, and the period of revolution constitutes 
 a year, so the Moon goes round the Earth 
 approximately in a period of one month. 
 But while we turn on our axis every twenty- 
 four hours, thus causing the alternation of 
 light and darkness day and night the 
 Moon takes a month to revolve on hers, so 
 that she always presents the same, or very 
 nearly the same, surface to us. 
 
 Seeing her as we do, not like the Sun and 
 Stars, by light of her own, but by the reflected 
 light of the Sun, her form appears to change, 
 because the side upon which the Sun shines 
 is not always that which we see. Hence the 
 
378 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUKE CHAP. 
 
 "phases" of the Moon, which add so much to 
 her beauty and interest. 
 
 Who is there who has not watched them 
 with admiration ? " We first see her as an 
 exquisite crescent of pale light in the western 
 sky after sunset. Night after night she 
 moves further and further to the east, until 
 she becomes full, and rises about the same 
 time that the Sun sets. From the time of 
 full moon the disc of light begins to diminish, 
 until the last quarter is reached. Then it is 
 that the Moon is seen high in the heavens in 
 the morning. As the days pass by, the cres- 
 cent shape is again assumed. The crescent 
 wanes thinner and thinner as the Moon draws 
 closer to the Sun. Finally, she becomes lost 
 in the overpowering light of the Sun, again 
 to emerge as the new moon, and again to go 
 through the same cycle of changes." l 
 
 But although she is so small the Moon is 
 not only, next to the Sun, by far the most 
 beautiful, but also for us the most important, 
 of the heavenly bodies. Her attraction, aided 
 by that of the Sun, causes the tides, which 
 
 1 Ball, Story of the Heavens. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 379 
 
 are of such essential service to navigation. 
 They carry our vessels in and out of port, and, 
 indeed, but for them many of our ports would 
 themselves cease to exist, being silted up by 
 the rivers running into them. The Moon is 
 also of invaluable service to sailors by enabling 
 them to determine where they are, and guid- 
 ing them over the pathless waters. 
 
 The geography of the Moon, so far as con- 
 cerns the side turned towards us, has been 
 carefully mapped and studied, and may almost 
 be said to be as well known as that of our 
 own earth. The scenery is in a high degree 
 weird and rugged ; it is a great wilderness of 
 extinct volcanoes, and, seen with even a very 
 moderate telescope, is a most beautiful object. 
 The mountains are of great size. Our loftiest 
 mountain, Mount Everest, is generally stated 
 as about 29,000 feet in height. The moun- 
 tains of the Moon reach an altitude of over 
 42,000, but this reckons to the lowest depres- 
 sion, and it must be remembered that we 
 reckon the height of mountains to the sea 
 level only. Several of the craters on the 
 Moon have a diameter of 40 or 50 one of 
 
380 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 them even as much as 78 miles. Many 
 also have central cones, closely resembling 
 those in our own volcanic regions. In some 
 cases the craters are filled nearly to the brim 
 with lava. The volcanoes seem, however, to 
 be all extinct ; and there is not a single case 
 
 Fig. 50. A group of Lunar Volcanoes. 
 
 in which we have conclusive evidence of any 
 change in a lunar mountain. 
 
 The Moon, being so much smaller than the 
 earth, cooled, of course, much more rapidly, 
 and it is probable that these mountains are 
 millions of years old much older than many 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 381 
 
 of our mountain chains. Yet no one can look 
 at a map of the Moon without being struck 
 with the very rugged character of its moun- 
 tain scenery. This is mainly due to the 
 absence of air and water. To these two 
 mighty agencies, not merely " the cloud- 
 capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the 
 solemn temples," but the very mountains 
 themselves, are inevitable victims. Not 
 merely storms and hurricanes, but every 
 gentle shower, every fall of snow, tends to 
 soften our scenery and lower the mountain 
 peaks. These agencies are absent from the 
 Moon, and the mountains stand to-day just 
 as they were formed millions of years ago. 
 
 But though we find on our own globe (see, 
 for instance, Fig. 21) volcanic regions closely 
 resembling those of the Moon, there are other 
 phenomena on the Moon's surface for which 
 our earth presents as yet no explanation. 
 From Tycho, for instance, a crater 17,000 
 feet high and 50 miles across, a number of 
 rays or streaks diverge, which for hundreds, 
 or in some cases two or three thousand, miles 
 pass straight across plains, craters, and moun- 
 
382 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 tains. The true nature of these streaks is not 
 yet understood. 
 
 THE SUN 
 
 The Sun is more than 400 times as distant 
 as the Moon ; a mighty glowing globe, in- 
 finitely hotter than any earthly fiery furnace, 
 300,000 times as heavy, and 1,000,000 times 
 as large as the earth. Its diameter is 865,000 
 miles, and it revolves on its axis in between 
 25 and 26 days. Its distance is 92,500,000 
 miles. And yet it is only a star, and by no 
 means one of the first magnitude. 
 
 The surface of the Sun is the seat of vio- 
 lent storms and tempests. From it gigantic 
 flames, consisting mainly of hydrogen, flicker 
 and leap. Professor Young describes one as 
 being, when first observed, 40,000 miles high. 
 Suddenly it became very brilliant, and in 
 half an hour sprang up 40,000 more. For 
 another hour it soared higher and higher, 
 reaching finally an elevation of no less than 
 350,000 miles, after which it slowly faded 
 away, and in a couple of hours had entirely 
 disappeared. This was no doubt an excep- 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 383 
 
 tional case, but a height of 100,000 miles is 
 not unusual, and the velocity frequently 
 reaches 100 miles in a second. 
 
 The proverbial spots on the Sun in many 
 respects resemble the appearances which would 
 be presented if a comparatively dark central 
 mass was here and there exposed by apertures 
 through the more brilliant outer gases, but 
 their true nature is still a matter of discus- 
 sion. 
 
 During total eclipses it is seen that the 
 Sun is surrounded by a "corona," or aureola of 
 light, consisting of radiant filaments, beams, 
 and sheets of light, which radiate in all direc- 
 tions, and the true nature of which is still 
 doubtful. 
 
 Another stupendous problem connected 
 with the Sun is the fact that, as geology 
 teaches us, it has given off nearly the same 
 quantity of light and heat for millions of 
 years. How has this come to pass ? Certainly 
 not by any process of burning such as we are 
 familiar with. Indeed, if the heat of the Sun 
 were due to combustion it would be burnt up 
 in 6000 years. It has been suggested that 
 
384 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 the meteors, which fall in showers on to the 
 Sun, replace the heat which is emitted. To 
 some slight extent perhaps they do so, but the 
 main cause seems to be the slow condensation 
 of the Sun itself. Mathematicians tell us 
 that a contraction of about 220 feet a year 
 would account for the whole heat emitted, and 
 as the present diameter of the Sun is about 
 860,000 miles, the potential store of heat is 
 still enormous. 
 
 To the Sun we owe our light and heat ; it 
 is not only the centre of our planetary system, 
 it is the source and ruler of our lives. It 
 draws up water from the ocean, and pours it 
 down in rain to fill the rivers and refresh the 
 plants ; it raises the winds, which purify the 
 air and waft our ships over the seas ; it draws 
 our carriages and drives our steam-engines, 
 for coal is but the heat of former ages stored 
 up for our use ; animals live and move by the 
 Sun's warmth ; it inspires the song of birds, 
 paints the flowers, and ripens the fruit. 
 Through it the trees grow. For the beauties 
 of nature, for our food and drink, for our 
 clothing, for our light and life, for the very 
 
x THE STAKRY HEAVENS 385 
 
 possibility of our existence, we are indebted 
 to the Sun. 
 
 What is the Sun made of ? Comte men- 
 tioned as a problem, which it was impossible 
 that man could ever solve, any attempt to 
 determine the chemical composition of the 
 heavenly bodies. " Nous concevons," he said, 
 " la possibilite de determiner leurs formes, 
 leurs distances, leurs grandeurs, et leurs mouve- 
 ments, tandis que nous ne saurions jamais 
 etudier par aucun moyen leur composition 
 chimique ou leur structure mineralogique." 
 To do so might well have seemed hopeless, 
 and yet the possibility has been proved, and a 
 beginning has been made. In the early part 
 of this century Wollaston observed that the 
 bright band of colours thrown by a prism, and 
 known as the spectrum, was traversed by 
 dark lines, which were also discovered, and 
 described more in detail, by Fraunhofer, after 
 whom they are generally called " Fraunhofer 's 
 lines." The next step was made by Wheat- 
 stone, who showed that the spectrum formed 
 by incandescent vapours was formed of bright 
 lines, which differed for each substance, and 
 
 2c 
 
386 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 might, therefore, be -used as a convenient 
 mode of analysis. In fact, by this process 
 several new substances have actually been 
 discovered. These bright lines were found 
 on comparison to coincide with the dark lines 
 in the spectrum, and to Kirchhoff: and Bunsen 
 is due the credit of applying this method 
 of research to astronomical science. They 
 arranged their apparatus so that one-half was 
 lighted by the Sun, the other by the incan- 
 descent gas they were examining. When the 
 vapour of sodium was treated in this way they 
 found that the bright line in the flame of soda 
 exactly coincided with a line in the Sun's 
 spectrum. The conclusion was obvious ; there 
 is sodium in the Sun. It must, indeed, have 
 been a glorious moment when the thought 
 flashed upon them ; and the discovery, with 
 its results, is one of the greatest triumphs of 
 human genius. 
 
 The Sun has thus been proved to contain 
 hydrogen, sodium, barium, magnesium, cal- 
 cium, aluminium, chromium, iron, nickle, man- 
 ganese, titanium, cobalt, lead, zinc, copper, 
 cadmium, strontium, cerium, uranium, potas- 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 387 
 
 slum, etc., in all 36 of our terrestrial ele- 
 ments, while as regards some others the 
 evidence is not conclusive. We cannot as 
 yet say that any of our elements are absent, 
 nor though there are various lines which can- 
 not as yet be certainly referred to any known 
 substance, have we clear proof that the Sun 
 contains any element which does not exist on 
 our earth. On the whole, then, the chemical 
 composition of the Sun appears closely to 
 resemble that of our earth. 
 
 THE PLANETS 
 
 The Syrian shepherds watching their flocks 
 by night long ago noticed and they were 
 probably not the first that there were five 
 stars which did not follow the regular course 
 of the rest, but, apparently at least, moved 
 about irregularly. These they appropriately 
 named Planets, or wanderers. 
 
 Further observations have shown that this ir- 
 regularity of their path is only apparent, and 
 that, like our own Earth, they really revolve 
 round the Sun. To the five first observed 
 
388 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn 
 two large ones, Uranus and Neptune, and a 
 group of minor bodies, have since been added. 
 The following two diagrams give the rela- 
 tive orbits of the Planets. 
 
 Mars 
 
 /Venus v> Mercury 
 
 --- 
 
 687 days 
 Fig. 51. Orbits of the inner Planets. 
 
 MERCURY 
 
 It is possible, perhaps probable, that there 
 may be an inner Planet, but, so far as we 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 389 
 
 know for certain, Mercury is the one nearest 
 to the Sun, it's average distance being 
 36,000,000 miles. It is much smaller than 
 the Earth, its weight being only about 
 
 . 
 --'Neptune 
 
 Jupiter.^ ......... ^ 
 
 /^ Mars ^ 
 
 I Sun/ 
 Fig. 52. Relative distances of the Planets from the Sun. 
 
 of ours. Mercury is a shy though beautiful 
 object, for being so near the Sun it is not 
 easily visible ; it may, however, generally be 
 seen at some time or other during the year as 
 a morning or evening star. 
 
390 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 VENUS 
 
 The true morning or evening star, however, 
 is Venus the peerless and capricious Venus. 
 
 Venus, perhaps, " has not been noticed, 
 not been thought of, for many months. It is 
 a beautifully clear evening ; the sun has just 
 set. The lover of nature turns to admire the 
 sunset, as every lover of nature will. In the 
 golden glory of the west a beauteous gem is 
 seen to glisten; it is the evening star, the 
 planet Venus. A week or two later another 
 beautiful sunset is seen, and now the planet 
 is no longer a glistening point low down ; it 
 has risen high above the horizon, and con- 
 tinues a brilliant object long after the shades 
 of night have descended. Again a little 
 longer and Venus has gained its full brilliancy 
 and splendour. All the heavenly host even 
 Sirius and Jupiter must pale before the 
 splendid lustre of Venus, the unrivalled queen 
 of the firmament." l 
 
 Venus is about as large as our Earth, and 
 when at her brightest outshines about fifty 
 
 1 Ball, Story of the Heavens. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 391 
 
 times the most brilliant star. Yet, like all 
 the other planets, she glows only with the 
 reflected light of the Sun, and consequently 
 passes through phases like those of the Moon, 
 though we cannot see them with the naked 
 eye. To Yen us also owe we mainly the power 
 of determining the distance, and consequently 
 the magnitude, of the Sun. 
 
 THE EARTH 
 
 Our own Earth has formed the subject of 
 previous chapters. I will now, therefore, only 
 call attention to her movements, in which, of 
 course, though unconsciously, we participate. 
 In the first place, the Earth revolves on her 
 axis in 24 hours. Her circumference at the 
 tropics is 24,000 miles. Hence a person at the 
 tropics is moving in this respect at the rate of 
 1000 miles an hour, or over 16 miles a 
 minute. 
 
 But more than this, astronomers have 
 ascertained that the whole solar system is 
 engaged in a great voyage through space, 
 moving towards a point on the constellation 
 
392 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 of Hercules at the rate of at least 20,000 
 miles an hour, or over 300 miles a minute. 1 
 
 But even more again, we revolve annually 
 round the Sun in a mighty orbit 580,000,000 
 miles in circumference. In this respect we 
 are moving at the rate of no less than 60,000 
 miles an hour, or 1000 miles a minute a 
 rate far exceeding of course, in fact by some 
 100 times, that of a cannon ball. 
 
 How few of us know, how little we any of 
 us realise, that we are rushing through space 
 with such enormous velocity. 
 
 MARS 
 
 To the naked eye Mars appears like a 
 ruddy star of the first magnitude. It has 
 two satellites, which have been happily named 
 Phobos and Deimos Fear and Dismay. It 
 is little more than half as large as the Earth, 
 and, though generally far more distant, it 
 sometimes approaches us within 35,000,000 
 miles. This has enabled us to study its 
 physical structure. It seems very probable 
 
 1 Some authorities estimate it even higher. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 393 
 
 that there is water in Mars, and the two poles 
 are tipped with white, as if capped by ice and 
 snow. It presents also a series of remarkable 
 parallel lines, the true nature of which is not 
 yet understood. 
 
 THE MINOR PLANETS 
 
 A glance at Figs. 51 and 52 will show that 
 the distances of the Planets from the Sun 
 follow a certain rule. 
 
 If we take the numbers 0, 3, 6, 12, 24, 48, 
 96, each one (after the second) the double of 
 that preceding, and add four, we have the 
 series. 
 
 4 7 10 16 28 52 100 
 
 Now the distances of the Planets from the 
 Sun are as follow : 
 
 Mercury. Venus. Earth. Mars. Jupiter. Saturn. 
 
 3.9 7.2 10 15.2 52.9 95.4 
 
 For this sequence, which was first noticed 
 by Bode, and is known as Bode's law, no 
 explanation can yet be given. It was of 
 course at once observed that between Mars 
 and Jupiter one place is vacant, and it has 
 
394 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 now been ascertained that this is occupied by 
 a zone of Minor Planets, the first of which 
 was discovered by Piazzi on January 1, 1801, 
 a worthy prelude to the succession of scientific 
 discoveries which form the glory of our cen- 
 tury. At present over 300 are known, but 
 certainly these are merely the larger among 
 an immense number, some of them doubtless 
 mere dust. 
 
 JUPITER 
 
 Beyond the Minor Planets we come to the 
 stupendous Jupiter, containing 300 times the 
 mass, and being 1200 times the size of our 
 Earth larger indeed than all the other 
 planets put together. It is probably not 
 solid, and from its great size still retains a 
 large portion of the original heat, if we may 
 use such an expression. Jupiter usually 
 shows a number of belts, supposed to be due 
 to clouds floating over the surface, which have 
 a tendency to arrange themselves in belts or 
 bands, owing to the rotation of the planet. 
 Jupiter has four moons or satellites. 
 
 r 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 395 
 
 SATURN 
 
 Next to Jupiter in size, as in position, 
 comes Saturn, which, though far inferior in 
 dimensions, is much superior in beauty. To 
 the naked eye Saturn appears as a brilliant 
 star, but when Galileo first saw it through a 
 telescope it appeared to him to be composed 
 of three bodies in a line, a central globe with 
 a small one on each side. Huyghens in 1655 
 
 Fig. 53. Saturn. 
 
 first showed that in reality Saturn was sur- 
 rounded by a series of rings (see Fig. 53). 
 Of these there are three, the inner one very 
 faint, and the outer one divided into two by 
 a dark line. These rings are really enormous 
 shoals of minute bodies revolving round the 
 planet, and rendering it perhaps the most 
 
396 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 marvellous and beautiful of all the heavenly 
 bodies. 
 
 While we have one Moon, Mars two, arid 
 Jupiter four, Saturn has no less than eight 
 satellites. 
 
 URANUS 
 
 Saturn was long supposed to be the outer- 
 most body belonging to the solar system. 
 In 1781, however, on the 13th March, 
 William Herschel was examining the stars 
 in the constellation of the Twins. One struck 
 him because it presented a distinct disc, while 
 the true fixed stars, however brilliant, are, 
 even with the most powerful telescope, mere 
 points of light-. At first he thought it might 
 be a comet, but careful observations showed 
 that it was really a new planet. Though 
 thus discovered by Herschel it had often 
 been seen before, but its true nature was 
 unsuspected. It has a diameter of about 
 31,700 miles. 
 
 Four satellites of Uranus have been dis- 
 covered, and they present the remarkable 
 peculiarity that while all the other planets 
 
x THE STAKRY HEAVENS 397 
 
 and their satellites revolve nearly in one 
 plane, the satellites of Uranus are nearly at 
 right angles, indicating the presence of some 
 local and exceptional influence. 
 
 NEPTUNE 
 
 The study of Uranus soon showed that it 
 followed a path which could not be accounted 
 for by the influence of the Sun and the other 
 then known planets. It was suspected, there- 
 fore, that this was due to some other body 
 not yet discovered. To calculate where 
 such a body must be so as to account for 
 these irregularities was a most complex and 
 difficult, and might have seemed almost a 
 hopeless, task. It was, however, solved al- 
 most simultaneously and independently by 
 Adams in this country, and Le Verrier in 
 France. 
 
 Neptune, so far as we yet know the out- 
 most of our companions, is 35,000 miles in 
 diameter, and its mean distance from the Sun 
 is 2,780,000,000 miles. 
 
THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE PLANETARY SYSTEM 
 
 The theory of the origin of the Planetary 
 System known as the " Nebular Hypothesis/' 
 which was first suggested by Kant, and de- 
 veloped by Herschel arid Laplace, may be 
 fairly said to have attained a high degree of 
 probability. The space now occupied by the 
 solar system is supposed to have been filled 
 by a rotating spheroid of extreme tenuity 
 and enormous heat, due perhaps to the col- 
 lision of two originally separate bodies. The 
 heat, however, having by degrees radiated 
 into space, the gas cooled and contracted 
 towards a centre, destined to become the Sun. 
 Through the action of centrifugal force the 
 gaseous matter also flattened itself at the 
 two poles, taking somewhat the form of a 
 disc. For a certain time the tendency to 
 contract, and the centrifugal force, counter- 
 balanced one another, but at length a time 
 came when the latter prevailed and the outer 
 zone detached itself from the rest of the 
 sphere. One after another similar rings were 
 thrown off, and then breaking up, formed the 
 planets and their satellites. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 399 
 
 That each planet and satellite did form 
 originally a ring we still have evidence in the 
 wonderful and beautiful rings of Saturn, 
 which, however, in all probability will eventu- 
 ally form spherical satellites like the rest. 
 Thus then our Earth was originally a part 
 of the Sun, to which again it is destined one 
 day to return. M. Plateau has shown experi- 
 mentally that by rotating a globe of oil in a 
 mixture of water and spirit having the same 
 density this process may be actually repeated 
 in miniature. 
 
 This brilliant, and yet simple, hypothesis 
 is consistent with, and explains many other 
 circumstances connected with the position, 
 magnitude, and movements of the Planets 
 and their satellites. 
 
 The Planets, for instance, lie more or less 
 in the same plane, they revolve round the 
 Sun and rotate on their own axis in the same 
 direction a series of coincidences which can- 
 not be accidental, and for which the theory 
 would account. Again the rate of cooling 
 would of course follow the size ; a small body 
 cools more rapidly than a large one. The 
 
400 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 Moon is cold and rigid; the Earth is solid at 
 the surface, but intensely hot within ; Jupiter 
 and Saturn, which are immensely larger, still 
 retain much of their original heat, and have 
 a much lower density than the Earth; and 
 astronomers tell us on other grounds that the 
 Sun itself is still contracting, and that to this 
 the maintenance of its temperature is due. 
 
 Although, therefore, the Nebular Theory 
 cannot be said to have been absolutely proved, 
 it has certainly been brought to a high state 
 of probability, and is, in its main features, 
 generally accepted by astronomers. 
 
 The question has often been asked whether 
 any of the heavenly bodies are inhabited, and 
 as yet it is impossible to give any certain 
 answer. It seems a priori probable that the 
 millions of suns which we see as stars must 
 have satellites, and that some at least of them 
 may be inhabited. So far as our own system 
 is concerned the Sun is of course too hot to 
 serve as a dwelling-place for any beings with 
 bodies such as ours. The same may be said 
 of Mercury, which is at times probably ten 
 times as hot as our tropics. The outer planets 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 401 
 
 appear to be still in a state of vapour. The 
 Moon has no air or water. 
 
 Mars is in a condition which most nearly 
 resembles ours. All, however, that can be 
 said is that, so far as we can see, the exis- 
 tence of living beings on Mars is not impos- 
 sible. 
 
 COMETS 
 
 The Sun, Moon, and Stars, glorious and 
 wonderful as they are, though regarded with 
 great interest, and in some cases worshipped 
 as deities, excited the imagination of our 
 ancestors less than might have been expected, 
 and even now attract comparatively little 
 attention, from the fact that they are always 
 with us. Comets, on the other hand, both as 
 rare and occasional visitors, from their large 
 size and rapid changes, were regarded in 
 ancient times with dread and with amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 Some Comets revolve round the Sun in 
 ellipses, but many, if not the majority, are 
 visitors indeed, for having once passed round 
 
 2D 
 
402 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 the Sun they pass away again into space, 
 never to return. 
 
 The appearance which is generally regarded 
 as characteristic of a Comet is that of a 
 head with a central nucleus and a long tail. 
 Many, however, of the smaller ones possess 
 no tail, and in fact Comets present almost 
 innumerable differences. Moreover the same 
 Comet changes rapidly, so that when they 
 return, they are identified not in any way by 
 their appearance, but by the path they 
 pursue. 
 
 Comets may almost be regarded as the 
 ghosts of heavenly bodies. The heads, in 
 some cases, may consist of separate solid 
 fragments, though on this astronomers are 
 by no means agreed, but the tails at any rate 
 are in fact of almost inconceivable tenuity. 
 We know that a cloud a few hundred feet 
 thick is sufficient to hide, not only the stars, 
 but even the Sun himself. A Comet is 
 thousands of miles in thickness, and yet even 
 extremely minute stars can be seen through 
 it with no appreciable diminution of bright- 
 ness. This extreme tenuity of comets is 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 403 
 
 moreover shown by their small weight. 
 Enormous as they are I remember Sir G. 
 Airy saying that there was probably more 
 matter in a cricket ball than there is in a 
 comet. No one, however, now doubts that 
 the weight must be measured in tons ; but 
 it is so small, in relation to the size, as to 
 be practically inappreciable. If indeed they 
 were comparable in mass even to the planets, 
 we should long ago have perished. The 
 security of our system is due to the fact that 
 the planets revolve round the Sun in one 
 direction, almost in circles, and very nearly 
 in the same plane. Comets, however, enter 
 our system in all directions, and at all angles ; 
 they are so numerous that, as Kepler said, 
 there are probably more Comets in the sky 
 than there are fishes in the sea, and but for 
 their extreme tenuity they would long ago 
 have driven us into the Sun. 
 
 When they first come in sight Comets 
 have generally no tail ; it grows as they 
 approach the Sun, from which it always 
 points away. It is no mere optical illusion ; 
 but while the Comet as a whole is attracted 
 
404 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 by the Sun, the tail, how or why we know 
 not, is repelled. When once driven off, more- 
 over, the attraction of the Comet is not suf- 
 ficient to recall it, and hence perhaps so many 
 Comets have now no tails. 
 
 Donati's Comet, the great Comet of 1858, 
 was first noticed on the 2d June as a faint 
 nebulous spot. For three months it remained 
 quite inconspicuous, and even at the end of 
 August was scarcely visible to the naked eye. 
 In September it grew rapidly, and by the 
 middle of October the tail extended no less 
 than 40 degrees, after which it gradually 
 disappeared. 
 
 Faint as is the light emitted by Comets, 
 it is yet their own, and spectrum analysis has 
 detected the presence in them of carbon, 
 hydrogen, nitrogen, sodium, and probably of 
 iron. 
 
 Comets then remain as wonderful, and 
 almost as mysterious, as ever, but we need no 
 longer regard " a comet as a sign of impend- 
 ing calamity ; we may rather look upon it as 
 an interesting and a beautiful visitor, which 
 comes to please us and to instruct us, but 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 405 
 
 never to threaten or to destroy." 1 We are 
 free, therefore, to admire them in peace, and 
 beautiful, indeed, they are. 
 
 "The most wonderful sight I remember," 
 says Hamerton, "as an effect of calm, was 
 the inversion of Donati's Comet, in the year 
 1858, during the nights when it was suffi- 
 ciently near the horizon to approach the rugged 
 outline of G-raiganunie, and be reflected 
 beneath it in Loch Awe. In the sky was an 
 enormous aigrette of diamond fire, in the 
 water a second aigrette, scarcely less splendid, 
 with its brilliant point directed upwards, and 
 its broad, shadowy extremity ending indefi- 
 nitely in the deep. To be out on the lake 
 alone, in a tiny boat, and let it rest motionless 
 on the glassy water, with that incomparable 
 spectacle before one, was an experience to be 
 remembered through a lifetime. I have seen 
 many a glorious sight since that now distant 
 year, but nothing to equal it in the association 
 of solemnity with splendour." 2 
 
 1 Ball. 2 Hamerton, La ndscape. 
 
406 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 SHOOTING STARS 
 
 On almost any bright night, if we watch a 
 short time some star will suddenly seem to 
 drop from its place, and, after a short plunge, 
 to disappear. This appearance is, however, 
 partly illusory. While true stars are immense 
 bodies at an enormous distance, Shooting Stars 
 are very small, perhaps not larger than a pav- 
 ing stone, and are not visible until they come 
 within the limits of our atmosphere, by the 
 friction with which they are set on fire and 
 dissipated. They are much more numerous on 
 some nights than others. From the 9th to 
 the llth August we pass through one cluster 
 which is known as the Perseids ; and on the 
 13th and 14th November a still greater group 
 called by astronomers the Leonids. The 
 Leonids revolve round the Sun in a period of 
 33 years, and in an elliptic orbit, one focus of 
 which is about at the same distance from the 
 Sun as we are, the other at about that of 
 Uranus. The shoal of stars is enormous ; its 
 diameter cannot be less than 100,000 miles, 
 and its length many hundreds of thousands. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 407 
 
 There are, indeed, stragglers scattered over the 
 whole orbit, with some of which we come in 
 contact every year, but we pass through the 
 main body three times in a century last in 
 1866 capturing millions on each occasion. 
 One of these has been graphically described 
 by Humboldt : 
 
 " From half after two in the morning the 
 most extraordinary luminary meteors were 
 seen in the direction of the east. M. Bonp- 
 land, who had risen to enjoy the freshness of 
 the air, perceived them first. Thousands of 
 bodies and falling stars succeeded each other 
 during the space of four hours. Their direc- 
 tion was very regular from north to south. 
 They filled a space in the sky extending from 
 due east 30 to north and south. In an ampli- 
 tude of 60 the meteors were seen to rise 
 above the horizon at east-north-east, and at 
 east, to describe arcs more or less extended, 
 and to fall towards the south, after having 
 followed the direction of the meridian. Some 
 of them attained a height of 40, and all ex- 
 ceeded 25 or 30. No trace of clouds was to 
 be seen. M. Bonpland states that, from the 
 
408 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 first appearance of the phenomenon, there was 
 not in the firmament a space equal in extent 
 to three diameters of the moon which was not 
 filled every instant with bolides and falling 
 stars. The first were fewer in number, but 
 as they were of different sizes it was impos- 
 sible to fix the limit between these two classes 
 of phenomena. All these meteors left lumi- 
 nous traces from five to ten degrees in length, 
 as often happens in the equinoctial regions. 
 The phosphorescence of these traces, or lumi- 
 nous bands, lasted seven or eight seconds. 
 Many of the falling stars had a very distinct 
 nucleus, as large as the disc of Jupiter, from 
 which darted sparks of vivid light. The 
 bodies seemed to burst as by explosion ; but 
 the largest, those from 1 to 1 15' in diameter, 
 disappeared without scintillation, leaving be- 
 hind them phosphorescent bands (trabes), 
 exceeding in breadth fifteen or twenty min- 
 utes. The light of these meteors was white, 
 and not reddish, which must doubtless be 
 attributed to the absence of vapour and the 
 extreme transparency of the air." 
 
 1 Humboldt, Travels. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 409 
 
 The past history of the Leonids, which Le 
 Verrier has traced out with great probability, 
 if not proved, is very interesting. They did 
 not, he considers, approach the Sun until 
 126 A.D., when, in their career through the 
 heavens, they chanced to come near to Uranus. 
 But for the influence of that planet they 
 would have passed round the Sun, and then 
 departed again for ever. By his attraction, 
 however, their course was altered, and they 
 will now continue to revolve round the 
 Sun. 
 
 There is a remarkable connection between 
 star showers and comets, which, however, is 
 not yet thoroughly understood. Several star 
 showers follow paths which are also those of 
 comets, and the conclusion appears almost 
 irresistible that these comets are made up of 
 Shooting Stars. 
 
 We are told, indeed, that 150,000,000 of 
 meteors, including only those visible with a 
 moderate telescope, fall on the earth annually. 
 At any rate, there can be no doubt that 
 every year millions of them are captured by 
 the earth, thus constituting an appreciable, 
 
410 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 and in the course of ages a constantly in- 
 creasing, part of the solid substance of the 
 globe. 
 
 THE STARS 
 
 We have been dealing in the earlier part of 
 this chapter with figures and distances so 
 enormous that it is quite impossible for us to 
 realise them ; and yet we have still others to 
 consider compared with which even the solar 
 system is insignificant. 
 
 In the first place, the number of the Stars is 
 enormous. When we look at the sky at night 
 they seem, indeed, almost innumerable ; so 
 that, like the sands of the sea, the Stars of 
 heaven have ever been used as effective sym- 
 bols of number. The total number visible to 
 the naked eye is, however, in reality only 
 about 3000, while that shown by the tele- 
 scope is about 100,000,000. Photography, 
 however, has revealed to us the existence 
 of others which no telescope can show. We 
 cannot by looking long at the heavens see 
 more than at first ; in fact, the first glance is 
 the keenest. In photography, on the contrary, 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 411 
 
 no light which falls on the plate, however 
 faint, is lost ; it is taken in and stored up. 
 In an hour the effect is 3600 times as great 
 as in a second. By exposing the photographic 
 plate, therefore, for some hours, and even on 
 successive nights, the effect of the light is as 
 it were accumulated, and stars are rendered 
 visible, the light of which is too feeble to be 
 shown by any telescope. 
 
 The distances and magnitudes of the 
 Stars are as astonishing as their numbers, 
 Sirius, for instance, being about twenty times 
 as heavy as the Sun itself, 50 times as 
 bright, and no less than 1,000,000 times as 
 far away ; while, though like other stars it 
 seems to us stationary, it is in reality sweep- 
 ing through the heavens at the rate of 1000 
 miles a minute ; Maia, Electra, and Alcyone, 
 three of the Pleiades, are considered to be 
 respectively 400, 480, and 1000 times as bril- 
 liant as the Sun, Canopus 2500 times, and 
 Arcturus, incredible as it may seem, even 
 8000 times, so that, in fact, the Sun is by 
 no means one of the largest Stars. Even 
 the minute Stars not separately visible to the 
 
412 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 naked eye, and the millions which make up 
 the Milky Way, are considered to be on an 
 average fully equal to the Sun in lustre. 
 
 Arcturus is, so far as we know at present, 
 the swiftest, brightest, and largest of all. Its 
 speed is over 300 miles a second, it is said to 
 be 8000 times as bright . as the Sun, and 80 
 times as large, while its distance is so great 
 that its light takes 200 years in reaching us. 
 
 The distances of the heavenly bodies are 
 ascertained by w r hat is known as " parallax." 
 Suppose the ellipse (Fig. 54), marked Jan., 
 Apr., July, Oct., represents the course of the 
 Earth round the Sun, and that A B are two 
 stars. If in January we look at the star A, 
 we see it projected against the front of the 
 sky marked 1. Three months later it would 
 appear to be at 2, and thus as we move round 
 our orbit the star itself appears to move in 
 the ellipse 1, 2, 3, 4. The more distant star 
 B also appears to move in a similar, but 
 smaller, ellipse ; the difference arising from 
 the greater distance. The size of the ellipse 
 is inversely proportional to the distance, and 
 hence as we know the magnitude of the 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 413 
 
 earth's orbit we can calculate the distance of 
 the star. The difficulty is that the apparent 
 ellipses are so minute that it is in very few 
 cases possible to measure them. 
 
 Jan. 
 
 July 
 
 Fig. 54. The Parallactic Ellipse. 
 
 The distances of the Fixed Stars thus tested 
 are found to be enormous, and indeed gener- 
 ally incalculable ; so great that in most cases, 
 whether we look at them from one end 
 of our orbit or the other though the dif- 
 ference of our position, corresponding to the 
 points marked January and July in Fig. 54, 
 is 185,000,000 miles no apparent change of 
 position can be observed. In some, however, 
 the parallax, though very minute, is yet ap- 
 
414 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 proximately measurable. The first star to 
 which this test was applied with success was 
 that known as 61 Cygni, which is thus shown 
 to be no less than 40 billions of miles away 
 from us many thousand times as far as we 
 are from the Sun. The nearest of the Stars, 
 so far as we yet know, is a Centauri, the dis- 
 tance of which is about 25 billions of miles. 
 
 The Pleiades are considered to be at a dis- 
 tance of nearly 1500 billions of miles. 
 
 As regards the chemical composition of the 
 Stars, it is, moreover, obvious that the power- 
 ful engine of investigation afforded us by the 
 spectroscope is by no means confined to the 
 substances which form part of our system. 
 The incandescent body can thus be examined, 
 no matter how great its distance, so long only 
 as the light is strong enough. That this 
 method was theoretically applicable to the 
 light of the Stars is indeed obvious, but the 
 practical difficulties are very great. Sirius, 
 the brightest of all, is, in round numbers, a 
 hundred millions of millions of miles from us ; 
 and, though as bright as fifty of our suns, his 
 light when it reaches us, after a journey of 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS , 415 
 
 sixteen years, is at most one two-thousand- 
 millionth part as bright. Nevertheless, as 
 long ago as 1815 Fraunhofer recognised the 
 fixed lines in the light of four of the Stars ; 
 in 1863 Miller and Huggins in our own 
 country, and Rutherford in America, suc- 
 ceeded in determining the dark lines in the 
 spectrum of some of the brighter Stars, thus 
 showing that these beautiful and mysterious 
 lights contain many of the material substances 
 with which we are familiar. In Aldebaran, 
 for instance, we may infer the presence of 
 hydrogen, sodium, magnesium, iron, calcium, 
 tellurium, antimony, bismuth, and mercury. 
 As might have been expected, the composition 
 of the Stars is not uniform, and it would 
 appear that they may be arranged in a few 
 well-marked classes, indicating differences of 
 temperature, or perhaps of age. 
 
 Thus we can make the Stars teach us their 
 own composition with light, which started 
 from its source years ago, in many cases long 
 before we were born. 
 
 Spectrum analysis has also thrown an un- 
 expected light on the movements of the Stars. 
 
416 THE BEAUTIES OF NATUEE CHAP. 
 
 Ordinary observation, of course, is powerless 
 to inform us whether they are moving towards 
 or away from us. Spectrum analysis, how- 
 ever, enables us to solve the problem, and 
 we know that some are approaching, some 
 receding. 
 
 Blue Red 
 
 Fig. 55. Displacement of the hydrogen line in the spectrum of Rigel. 
 
 If a star, say for instance Sirius, were 
 motionless, or rather if it retained a constant 
 distance from the earth, Fraunhofer's lines 
 would occupy exactly the same position in 
 the spectrum as they do in that of the Sun. 
 On the contrary, if Sirius were approaching, 
 the lines would be slightly shifted towards the 
 blue, or if it were receding towards the red. 
 Fig. 55 shows the displacement of the hydro- 
 gen line in the spectrum of Rigel, due to the 
 fact that it is receding from us at the rate of 
 39 miles a second. The Sun affords us an 
 excellent test of this theory. As it revolves 
 on its axis one edge is always approaching 
 and the other receding from us at a known 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 417 
 
 rate, and observation shows that the lines 
 given by the light of the two edges differ 
 accordingly. So again as regards the Stars, 
 we obtain a similar test derived from the 
 Earth's movement. As we revolve in our 
 orbit we approach or recede any given star, 
 and our rate of motion being known we 
 thus obtain a second test. The results thus 
 examined have stood their ground satisfac- 
 torily, and in Huggins' opinion may be relied 
 on within about an English mile a second. 
 The effect of this movement is, moreover, 
 independent of the distance. A lateral mo- 
 tion, say of 20 miles a second, which in a 
 nearer object would appear to be a stupendous 
 velocity, becomes in the Stars quite imper- 
 ceptible. A motion of the same rapidity, on 
 the other hand, towards or away from us, dis- 
 places the dark lines equally, whatever the 
 distance of the object may be. We may then 
 affirm that Sirius, for instance, is receding 
 from us at the rate of about 20 miles a second. 
 Betelgeux, Rigel, Castor, Regulus, and others 
 are also moving away ; while some Vega, 
 Arcturus, and Pollux, for example are 
 
 2E 
 
418 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 approaching us. By the same process it is 
 shown that some groups of stars are only 
 apparently in relation to one another. Thus 
 in Charles' Wain some of the stars are 
 approaching, others receding. 
 
 I have already mentioned that Sirius, 
 though it seems, like other stars, so stationary 
 that we speak of them as "fixed," is really 
 sweeping along at the rate of 1000 miles a 
 minute. Even this enormous velocity is ex- 
 ceeded in other cases. One, which is numbered 
 as 1830 in Groombridge's Catalogue of the 
 Stars., and is therefore known as " Groom- 
 bridge's 1830," moves no less than 12,000 
 miles a minute, and Arcturus 22,000 miles a 
 minute, or 32,000,000 of miles a day ; and 
 yet the distances of the Stars are so great that 
 1000 years would make hardly any difference 
 in the appearance of the heavens. 
 
 Changes, however, there certainly would 
 be. Even in the short time during which 
 we have any observations, some are already 
 on record. One of the most interesting is the 
 fading of the 7th Pleiad, due, according to 
 Ovid, to grief at the taking of Troy. Again, 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 419 
 
 the " fiery Dogstar," as it used to be, is 
 now, and has been for centuries, a clear 
 white. 
 
 The star known as Nova Cygni the "new 
 star in the Constellation of the Swan" was 
 first observed on the 24th November 1876 by 
 Dr. Schmidt of Athens, who had examined 
 that part of the heavens only four days before, 
 and is sure that no such star was visible then. 
 At its brightest it was a brilliant star of the 
 third magnitude, but this only lasted for a 
 few days ; in a week it had ceased to be a 
 conspicuous object, and in a fortnight became 
 invisible without a telescope. Its sudden 
 splendour was probably due to a collision be- 
 tween two bodies, and was probably little, if 
 at all, less than that of the Sun itself. It is 
 still a mystery how so great a conflagration 
 can have diminished so rapidly. 
 
 But though we speak of some stars as 
 specially variable, they are no doubt all un- 
 dergoing slow change. There was a time 
 when they were not, and one will come when 
 they will cease to shine. Each, indeed, has a 
 life-history of its own. Some, doubtless, rep- 
 
420 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 resent now what others once were, and what 
 many will some day become. 
 
 For, in addition to the luminous heavenly 
 bodies, we cannot doubt that there are count- 
 less others invisible to us, some from their 
 greater distance or smaller size, but others, 
 doubtless, from their feebler light ; indeed, we 
 know that there are many dark bodies which 
 now emit no light, or comparatively little. 
 Thus in the case of Procyon the existence of 
 an invisible body is proved by the movement 
 of the visible star. Again, I may refer to the 
 curious phenomena presented by Algol, a 
 bright star in the head of Medusa. The star 
 shines without change for two days and thir- 
 teen hours ; then in three hours and a half 
 dwindles from a star of the second to one of 
 the fourth magnitude ; and then, in another 
 three and a half hours, reassumes its original 
 brilliancy. These changes led astronomers to 
 infer the presence of an opaque body, which 
 intercepts at regular intervals a part of the 
 light emitted by Algol ; and Vogel has now 
 shown by the aid of the spectroscope that 
 Algol does in fact revolve round a dark, and 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 421 
 
 therefore invisible, companion. The spectro- 
 scope, in fact, makes known to us the 
 presence of many stars which no telescope 
 could reveal. 
 
 Thus the floor of heaven is not only 
 " thick inlaid with patines of bright gold," 
 but studded also with extinct stars, once prob- 
 ably as brilliant as our own Sun, but now 
 dead and cold, as Helmholtz tells us that our 
 Sun itself will be some seventeen millions of 
 years hence. 
 
 Such dark bodies cannot of course be seen, 
 and their existence, though we cannot doubt 
 it, is a matter of calculation. In one case, 
 however, the conclusion has received a most 
 interesting confirmation. The movements of 
 Sirius led mathematicians to conclude that it 
 had also a mighty and massive neighbour, the 
 relative position of which they calculated, 
 though no such body had ever been seen. In 
 February 1862. however, the Messrs. Alvan 
 Clark of Cambridgeport were completing 
 their 18-inch glass for the Chicago Observa- 
 tory. " ' Why, father,' " exclaimed the younger 
 Clark, " ' the star has a companion.' The 
 
422 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 father looked, and there was a faint star 
 due east from the bright one, and distant 
 about ten seconds. This was exactly the pre- 
 dicted direction for that time, though the dis- 
 coverers knew nothing of it. As the news 
 went round the world many observers turned 
 their attention to Sirius ; and it was then 
 found that, though it had never before been 
 noticed, the companion was really shown under 
 favourable circumstances by any powerful 
 telescope. It is, in fact, one-half of the size of 
 Sirius, though only yoljToth ^ the bright- 
 
 ness." 
 
 Stars are, we know, of different magni- 
 tudes and different degrees of glory. They 
 are also of different colours. Most, indeed, are 
 white, but some reddish, some ruddy, some 
 intensely red ; others, but fewer, green, blue, 
 or violet. It is possible that the compara- 
 tive rarity of these colours is due to the fact 
 that our atmosphere especially absorbs green 
 and blue, and it is remarkable that almost all 
 of the green, blue, or violet stars are one of 
 the pairs of a Double Star, and in every case 
 
 1 Clarke, System of the Stars. 
 
x THE STARKY HEAVENS 423 
 
 the smaller one of the two, the larger being 
 red, orange, or yellow. One of the most 
 exquisite of these is /3 Cygni, a Double Star, 
 the larger one being golden yellow, the smaller 
 light blue. With a telescope the effect is very 
 beautiful, but it must be magnificent if one 
 could only see it from a lesser distance. 
 
 Double Stars -occur in considerable numbers. 
 In some cases indeed the relation may only be 
 apparent, one being really far in front of the 
 other. In very many cases, however, the 
 association is real, and they revolve round 
 one another. In some cases the period may 
 extend to thousands of years ; for the distance 
 which separates them is enormous, and, even 
 when with a powerful telescope it is indi- 
 cated only by a narrow dark line, amounts 
 to hundreds of millions of miles. The Pole 
 Star itself is double. Andromeda is triple, 
 with perhaps a fourth dark and therefore 
 invisible companion. These dark bodies have 
 a special interest, since it is impossible not 
 to ask ourselves whether some at any rate 
 of them may not be inhabited. In e Lyrse 
 there are two, each again being itself double. 
 
424 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 f Cancri, and probably also 9 Orionis, consist 
 of six stars, and from such a group we pass 
 on to Star Clusters in which the number is 
 very considerable. The cluster in Hercules 
 consists of from 1000 to 4000. A stellar 
 swarm in the Southern Cross contains several 
 hundred stars of various colours, red, green, 
 greenish blue, and blue closely thronged to- 
 gether, so that they have been compared to a 
 " superb piece of fancy jewellery." l 
 
 The cluster in the Sword Handle of Per- 
 seus contains innumerable stars, many doubt- 
 less as brilliant as our Sun. We ourselves 
 probably form a part of such a cluster. The 
 Milky Way itself, as we know r , entirely sur- 
 rounds us ; it is evident, therefore, that the 
 Sun, and of course we ourselves, actually lie 
 in it. It is, therefore, a Star Cluster, one of 
 countless numbers, and containing our Sun 
 as a single unit. 
 
 It has as yet been found impossible to 
 determine even approximately the distance 
 of these Star Clusters. 
 
 1 Kosmos. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 425 
 
 NEBULAE 
 
 From Stars we pass insensibly to Nebulae, 
 which, are so far away that their distance 
 is at present quite immeasurable. All that 
 we can do is to fix a minimum, and this 
 is so great that it is useless to express it 
 in miles. Astronomers, therefore, take the 
 velocity of light as a unit. It travels at the 
 rate of 180,000 miles a second, and even at 
 this enormous velocity it must have taken 
 hundreds of years to reach us, so that we see 
 them not as they now are but as they were 
 hundreds of years ago. 
 
 It is no wonder, therefore, that in many of 
 these clusters it is impossible to distinguish 
 the separate stars of which they are composed. 
 As, howevjer, our telescopes are improved, 
 more and more clusters are being resolved. 
 Photography also comes to our aid, and, as 
 already mentioned, by long exposure stars can 
 be made visible which are quite imperceptible 
 to the eye, even with aid of the most powerful 
 telescope. 
 
 Spectrum analysis also seems to show that 
 
426 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 such a nebula as that in Andromeda, which 
 with our most powerful instruments appears 
 only as a mere cloud, is really a vast cluster 
 of stellar points. 
 
 This, however, by no means applies to all 
 the nebulas. The spectrum of a star is a 
 bright band of colour crossed by dark lines ; 
 that of a gaseous nebula consists of bright 
 lines. This test has been made use of, and 
 indicates that some of the nebulae are really 
 immense masses of incandescent and very 
 attenuated gas ; very possibly, however, in a 
 condition of which we have no experience, and 
 arranged in discs, bands, rings, chains, wisps, 
 knots, rays, curves, ovals, spirals, loops, 
 wreaths, fans, brushes, sprays, lace, waves, 
 and clouds. Huggins has shown that many 
 of them are really stupendous masses of 
 glowing gas, especially of hydrogen, and 
 perhaps of nitrogen, while the spectrum also 
 shows other lines which perhaps may indicate 
 some of the elements which, so far as our 
 Earth is concerned, appear to be missing 
 between hydrogen and lithium. Many of 
 the nebulae are exquisitely beautiful, and 
 their colour very varied. 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 427 
 
 In some cases, moreover, nebulae seem to 
 be gradually condensing into groups of stars, 
 and in many cases it is difficult to say whether 
 we should consider a given group as a cluster 
 of stars surrounded by nebulous matter or a 
 gaseous nebula condensed here and there into 
 stars. 
 
 " Besides the single Sun," says Proctor, 
 " the universe contains groups and systems 
 and streams of primary suns ; there are 
 galaxies of minor orbs; there are clustering 
 stellar aggregations showing every variety of 
 richness, of figure, and of distribution ; there 
 are all the various forms of star cloudlets, 
 resolvable and irresolvable, circular, elliptical, 
 and spiral ; and lastly, there are irregular 
 masses of luminous gas clinging in fantastic 
 convolutions around stars and star systems. 
 Nor is it unsafe to assert that other forms 
 and varieties of structure will yet be dis- 
 covered, or that hundreds more exist which 
 we may never hope to recognise." 
 
 Nor is it only as regards the magnitude 
 and distances of the heavenly bodies that we 
 are lost in amazement and admiration. The 
 
428 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. 
 
 lapse of time is a grander element in Astron- 
 omy even than in Geology, and dates back 
 long before Geology begins. We must figure 
 to ourselves a time when the solid matter 
 which now composes our Earth was part of 
 a continuous and intensely heated gaseous 
 body, which extended from the centre of the 
 Sun to beyond the orbit of Neptune, and 
 had, therefore, a diameter of more than 
 6,000,000,000 miles. 
 
 As this slowly contracted, Neptune was 
 detached, first perhaps as a ring, and then as a 
 spherical body. Ages after this Uranus broke 
 away. 
 
 Then after another incalculable period 
 Saturn followed suit, and here the tendencies 
 to coherence and disruption were so evenly 
 balanced that to this day a portion circulates 
 as rings round the main body instead of being 
 broken up into satellites. Again after succes- 
 sive intervals Jupiter, Mars, the Asteroids, 
 the Earth, Venus, and Mercury all passed 
 through the same marvellous phases. The 
 time which these changes would have re- 
 quired must have been incalculable, and they 
 
x THE STARRY HEAVENS 429 
 
 all of course preceded, and preceded again 
 by another incalculable period, the very com- 
 mencement of that geological history which 
 itself indicates a lapse of time greater than 
 human imagination can realise. 
 
 Thus, then, however far we penetrate in 
 time or in space, we find ourselves surrounded 
 by mystery. Just as in time we can form no 
 idea of a commencement, no anticipation of 
 an end, so space also extends around us, 
 boundless in all directions. Our little Earth 
 revolves round the mighty Sun ; the Sun 
 itself and the whole solar system are moving 
 with inconceivable velocity towards a point 
 in the constellation of Hercules ; together 
 with all the nearer stars it forms a cluster 
 in the heavens, which appears to our eyes as 
 the Milky Way ; while outside our star cluster 
 again are innumerable others, which far trans- 
 cend, alike in magnitude, in grandeur, and 
 in distance, the feeble powers of our finite 
 imagination. 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
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 THE HAPPINESS OF DUTY. 
 
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 A SONG OF BOOKS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 
 
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 THE BLESSING OF FRIENDS. 
 
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 THE PLEASURES OF TRAVEL 
 
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 THE PLEASURES OF HOME. 
 
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 SCIENCE. 
 
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 EDUCATION. 
 
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 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AMBITION. 
 
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 WEALTH. 
 
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 HEALTH. 
 
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 LOVE. 
 
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 POETRY. 
 
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 Music. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 THE DESTINY 
 
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 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE. 
 
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 THE TROUBLES OF LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LABOUR AND REST. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE HOPE OF PROGRESS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
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