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diff --git a/old/64550-0.txt b/old/64550-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fdde8ce..0000000 --- a/old/64550-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14820 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Intelligence in Plants and Animals, by -Thomas George Gentry - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Intelligence in Plants and Animals - Being a New Edition of the Author's Privately Issued "Soul and - Immortality." - -Author: Thomas George Gentry - -Release Date: February 14, 2021 [eBook #64550] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Turgut Dincer, Harry Lamé and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive). - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTELLIGENCE IN PLANTS AND -ANIMALS *** - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - Text printed in italics has been transcribed _between underscores_. - Small capitals have been replaced with ALL CAPITALS. - - More Transcriber’s Notes may be found at the end of this text. - - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -SNAPPING-TURTLES FIGHTING.] - - - - - INTELLIGENCE - IN - PLANTS AND ANIMALS - - BEING A NEW EDITION OF THE AUTHOR’S - PRIVATELY ISSUED “SOUL AND IMMORTALITY” - - BY - THOMAS G. GENTRY, Sc. D. - - AUTHOR OF “LIFE-HISTORIES OF BIRDS OF EASTERN PENNSYLVANIA,” - “THE HOUSE SPARROW,” “NESTS AND EGGS OF BIRDS - OF THE UNITED STATES,” ETC., ETC., ETC. - - - NEW YORK - DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. - 1900 - - - Copyright 1900, - BY - DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. - - - TO - ALL HUMAN BEINGS - WHO ARE GOOD AND KIND - TO THE HUMBLEST OF GOD’S CREATURES - THIS VOLUME - IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED - BY THE AUTHOR. - - - “Every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand - hills. - - “I know all the fowls of the mountains: and the wild beasts of the - field are mine.”--Psalm 1:10, 11. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -Nothing is more charming to the mind of man than the study of Nature. -Religion, moderation and magnanimity have been made a part of his -inner being through her teachings, and the soul has been rescued by -her influence from obscurity. No longer doth man grovel in the dust, -seeking, animal-like, the gratification of low and base desires, as was -his wont, but on the wings of thought is enabled to soar to the very -gates of Heaven and hold communion with God. - -Though made “a little lower than the angels,” yet, through the -mighty play of forces that have been at work in the world, which we, -in the latter half of this enlightened century, are just beginning -to recognize and comprehend, he has been lifted from the mire of -degradation and placed upon a higher social, intellectual, moral -and spiritual level. Out of the animal, in the scheme of Deity, the -spiritual system of things is to be elaborated, and not the animal out -of the spiritual. This natural world, so to speak, is the raw material -of the spiritual. Therefore, ere man can understand the spiritual, -he must understand the natural. Though his knowledge was at first -about material things, or such as pertained to natural phenomena, yet -from this through the ages has been builded, little by little, that -mountain-height of knowledge, intellectual and moral, which, if rightly -directed, is to bring him into fellowship with Deity. “As we have borne -the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly,” -or, Lord from heaven. - -When is considered, therefore, the immense good which the study and -investigation of nature have accomplished, it is not at all surprising -that the literature on the subject should be markedly in the ascendant. -Natural science bids fair to be in a preëminent degree the pursuit of -the coming man. There is no end to the books that have been written -upon the subject during the past few decades, if not by specialists, -but by men and women who have been well informed and who have made -themselves fully capable of contemplating understandingly the world -which lies about them. - -Our libraries are to-day quite affluent in books that are the handmaids -of natural science. Michelet and Hugh Miller, in their day, opened -glorious new worlds before a rising generation, and that generation is -now doing excellent work under the inspiration of the impetus which it -then received. Tait, Balfour Stewart, Dawson, Gray, McCook, Thompson, -Scudder, Mrs. Treat, Olive Thorne Miller and others have done much -to continue the interest, pleasure and enthusiasm awakened by those -earlier writers, and even Darwin and Huxley themselves, in detailing -their experiments, have not scorned to bring their thoughts within the -range of narrower minds. - -But in the popularization of natural science no man has done more than -Rev. J. G. Wood in his numerous works. Not only have his writings -created in thousands a taste for nature-studies, but they have been no -less the means of cultivating the observation, awakening enthusiasm -and directing effort in the lines of original research and discovery. -Certainly no one, as his many writings so abundantly attest, possessed -a larger fund of knowledge concerning the powers and capabilities of -the lower animals than this author. Few knew our domestic animals -better than he, and none was more capable of judging of the mental -and moral _status_ which they should occupy in the world of animals. -It is true that men and women, eminent in theology, literature and -science, had expressed a belief in the idea that the “latent powers and -capacities” of the lower animals might be developed in a future life, -but no one had felt secure enough in this belief to warrant more than a -passing thought or two upon the subject. - -Bishop Butler, in his “Analogy of Religion,” undoubtedly believed -the lower animals capable of a future life. In speaking of them in -this connection in the opening of his work, he says: “It is said -these observations are equally applicable to brutes; and it is -thought an insuperable difficulty that they should be immortal, and -by consequence capable of everlasting happiness. And this manner of -expression is both invidious and weak; but the thing intended by -it is really no difficulty at all, either in the way of natural or -moral consideration.” Referring then to the undeveloped powers and -capacities of the so-called brutes, the Bishop could perceive no reason -why they should not attain their development in an existence beyond -the earth-life. It was in pursuance of this same train of thought that -Rev. J. G. Wood was led to show in a work, entitled “Man and Beast -Here and Hereafter,” that the lower animals do possess those mental -and moral characteristics--the attributes of reason, language, memory, -moral responsibility, unselfishness and love--which we admit in man -as belonging to the immortal spirit, rather than to the perishable -body. Having previously cleared away the difficulties which certain -passages in the Old Testament seemingly interposed, and proved that -the Scriptures do not deny futurity of life to lower animals, he very -naturally concluded that as man expects to retain these qualities in -the future life there is every reason to suppose that they may share -his immortality in the Hereafter as in the Now they are partakers of -his mortal nature. - -Few minds, unswayed by thoughts materialistic, can study the living -works of God, whether vegetal or animal, and fail to be convinced that -they, as living exponents of Divine conceptions, are as needful in the -world of spirit as in the world of matter. While many are disposed to -believe that man will share the future life with beast, bird, insect -and such like, yet but few, if any, can be found who believe that -tree and shrub and flower will be there to continue the life begun on -earth and reach out to higher and fuller development. In announcing -this belief, the author but expresses a conviction as deep as any that -could occupy a human mind. The possession of soul and spirit can be -predicated no less of plants than of man and the lower animals. They -have all one breath or life and one spirit, and as such are living -souls, living, breathing frames or bodies of life. From being living, -breathing frames, and endowed with the same life and spirit as man and -the lower animals, they have all one destiny, for “all go unto one -place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.” But of the new -life which Christ came down to earth to proffer to man that he might -inherit the kingdom of God. While to man it was only offered, and had -for its purpose the uplifting and improvement of his earth-life by -the promise of something higher and better to those who are accounted -worthy, yet there can be no doubt that it was equally intended through -his uplifting to place all the creatures of the earth over which he -was given dominion by God upon a more elevated and nobler plane, so -that those which had been profited in the earth-life by his beneficent -influence should become partakers with him in the new life, when Christ -shall “transfigure the body of our humiliation, that it may become -of like form with the body of His glory, by the power of that which -enables Him even to subdue all things to Himself.” As all existence -is a unit, which the author has taken especial pains through the body -of this book to impress upon the minds of his readers, it can hardly -be conceived that an all-wise God, who is infinite in love, mercy and -justice, would look to the preservation in a future state of but a very -small part of the life which He has been instrumental in placing upon -this earth. It would be more consistent with His attributes, and with -the scheme of development of life upon our planet, whereby life has -been progressive, the fittest only being allowed to survive, to have -provided in the grand plan of redemption, not merely the salvation of -the highest of earth-life, but of all life, the purest and the best, -that would represent in the heaven-life, in spiritualized form, the -highest living exponents of Divine ideas. No other belief accords so -well with the teachings of science and philosophy. In its acceptance, -for it makes all life related to the Divine life, can there be any hope -of escape from materialism, that curse of the age. - - THOMAS G. GENTRY, SC. D. - - PHILADELPHIA, FEBRUARY 28, 1897. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - Preface 1 - - Life and Its Conditions 9 - - Plants that Feed on Insects 16 - - Slime-Animals 32 - - Primitive Lasso-Throwers 36 - - Five-Fingered Jack on the Oyster 41 - - Earth-worms in History 48 - - Fiddler-and Hermit-Crabs 70 - - Funnel-Web Builder 77 - - Book-Lovers 86 - - You-ee-up 90 - - Tower-Building Cicada 95 - - Honey-Dew 104 - - Milch-Cows of the Ants 108 - - Living Artillery 111 - - Bright and Shining Ones 115 - - Queen of American Silk-Spinners 121 - - Basket-Carriers 126 - - Honey-Producing Caterpillars 132 - - Hibernating Butterflies 144 - - Leaf-Cutter Bee 149 - - Battle Between Ants 153 - - Nest-Building Fishes 158 - - Slippery as an Eel 168 - - Rana and Bufo 174 - - Our Natural Enemies 186 - - House-Bearing Reptiles 198 - - Summer Duck 204 - - American Woodcock 210 - - Piping Plover 218 - - Bob White 222 - - Ruffed Grouse 230 - - An Old Acquaintance 240 - - American Osprey 245 - - Turkey Buzzard 252 - - Rare and Curious Nests 263 - - Strange Friendship 279 - - Nature’s Little Store-Keeper 285 - - Canine Sagacity 290 - - Feline Intelligence 295 - - Bright Little Cebidae 301 - - Untutored Man 309 - - Living Souls 316 - - Consciousness in Plants 323 - - Mind in Animals 344 - - Life Progressive 404 - - Survival of the Fittest 426 - - Man’s Preëminence 469 - - Future Life 479 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - PAGE - - 1 Portrait of Author Frontispiece - 2 Venus’s Fly-trap 20 - 3 Round-Leaved Sundew 25 - 4 Protomyxa Feeding 34 - 5 Fresh-Water Hydra 37 - 6 Star-fish Opening an Oyster 45 - 7 Common Earth-worms 60 - 8 Fiddler-Crabs 72 - 9 Warty Hermit-Crabs 75 - - 10 Agalena and Her Funnel-Web 79 - - 11 Lepismas at Work 88 - - 12 You-ee-up in His Den 91 - - 13 Seventeen-year Cicada 97 - - 14 New-born Cicada 99 - - 15 Dome-like House of Cicada 101 - - 16 Blossom of Cucurbita 105 - - 17 Nest of Lasius 109 - - 18 Brachinus Pursued by an Enemy 112 - - 19 Common Tiger Beetle 117 - - 20 American Luna Moth 123 - - 21 House-builder Moth 129 - - 22 Pseudargiolus Butterfly 134 - - 23 Violacea Butterfly 138 - - 24 Neglecta Butterfly 142 - - 25 Mourning-Cloak Butterfly 146 - - 26 Leaf-Cutter Bee at Work 150 - - 27 Battle Between Ants 154 - - 28 Nest of Common Sun-fish 159 - - 29 Black-nosed Dace 163 - - 30 Common American Eel 172 - - 31 Rana Clamata, or Green Frog 177 - - 32 Common American Toad 181 - - 33 Northern Rattlesnake 189 - - 34 Mother Black Snake 192 - - 35 Summer Green Snake 195 - - 36 Water Snake 196 - - 37 Common Box Tortoise 201 - - 38 Summer Ducks and Young 206 - - 39 American Woodcock 214 - - 40 Female Piping Plover 220 - - 41 Home of Bob White 225 - - 42 Ruffed Grouse in Spring-time 235 - - 43 Mexican Wild Turkey 241 - - 44 Nest of American Osprey 247 - - 45 Female Turkey Buzzard Dining 259 - - 46 Nest of the Robin 264 - - 47 Red-winged Blackbird’s Nest 266 - - 48 Double Nest of Orchard Oriole 268 - - 49 Female Baltimore Oriole 270 - - 50 Acadian Flycatchers 272 - - 51 Long-billed Marsh Wrens 274 - - 52 Golden-Crowned Kinglets 275 - - 53 Lace Hammock of Parula Warbler 276 - - 54 Three-story Nest of Yellow Warbler 278 - - 55 Saw-whet Owl and Chickaree Squirrel 282 - - 56 Hackee, or Chipping Squirrel 287 - - 57 My Dog Frisky 292 - - 58 Tom on Duty 297 - - 59 Jack at Dinner 305 - - 60 Australian at Home 311 - - 61 Representative Life of Western Asia 319 - - 62 Seedling of Winter Grape 325 - - 63 Tip of Radicle of Seedling Maple 331 - - 64 Wonderful Equine Intelligence 347 - - 65 Papier-Maché Palace of the Hornet 353 - - 66 Unsolicited and Unlooked-for Kindness 357 - - 67 Exhibition of Grandeur 378 - - 68 Four Orphaned Robins 389 - - 69 Mated for Life 396 - - 70 Evidence of Conjugal Affection 400 - - 71 Life in the Primordial Sea 410 - - 72 Carboniferous Times 412 - - 73 Mesozoic Flora and Fauna 415 - - 74 Palæolithic Men Attacking Cave Bear 448 - - 75 Era of Mind and Heart 462 - - - - -FULL PAGE PLATES. - -From Photographs from Nature by A. RADCLYFFE DUGMORE. - - - 1 Snapping Turtles Fighting Frontispiece - - FACING PAGE - - 2 Crab Waiting for Food Under a Rock 74 - - 3 Box-tortoise Feeding on Fungus 200 - - 4 Woodcock on Nest (showing protective coloring) 212 - - 5 Red-eyed Vireo’s Two-Storied Nest With Cow-bird’s egg beneath 264 - - 6 Long-billed Marsh Wren’s Nest 272 - - 7 Chipping Squirrels Feeding 286 - - 8 Wood Thrush Setting 402 - - - - -LIFE AND IMMORTALITY. - - - - -LIFE AND ITS CONDITIONS. - - -All natural objects, roughly divided, arrange themselves into three -groups, constituting the so-called Mineral, Vegetable and Animal -kingdoms. Mineral bodies are all devoid of life. They consist of -either a single element, or, if combined, occur in nature in the form -of simple compounds, composed of more than two or three elements. -They are homogeneous in texture, or, when unmixed, formed of similar -particles which have no definite relations to one another. In form they -are either altogether indefinite, when they are said to be amorphous, -or have a definite shape, called crystalline, in which case they -are ordinarily bounded by plane surfaces and straight lines. When -mineral bodies increase in size, as crystals may do, the increase is -produced simply by accretion. They exhibit purely physical and chemical -phenomena, and show no tendency to periodic changes of any kind. -Fossils or petrifactions, which owe their existence and characters to -beings which lived in former periods of the earth’s history, cannot, -though made up of mineral matter, be properly said to belong to the -mineral kingdom. - -But objects belonging to the vegetable and animal kingdoms differ -markedly from inert, lifeless, mineral matter. Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen -and nitrogen are the most important of the few chemical elements which -enter into their composition, and these elements are combined into -complex organic compounds, which always contain a large percentage of -water, are very unstable, and prone to spontaneous decomposition. They -are composed of heterogeneous, but related, parts, termed organs, the -objects possessing them being called organized bodies. Some of the -lowest forms of animals have bodies whose substance is so uniform that -they exhibit no definite organs, but this exception does not affect -the general value of this distinction. They are always more or less -definite in shape, presenting concave and convex surfaces, and being -limited by curved lines. When they increase in size, or grow, as we -properly term it, it is not by the addition of particles from the -outside, but by the reception of foreign matter into their interior and -its consequent assimilation. Certain periodic changes, which follow -a definite and discoverable order, are invariably passed through by -organized bodies. These changes constitute what is known as life. All -the objects, then, which fulfil these conditions are said to be alive, -and they all appertain either to the vegetable or the animal kingdom. -The study of living objects, no matter to which kingdom they belong, -is therefore conveniently called by the general name of Biology, which -means a discourse on life. And as all living objects may be referred to -one or other of these kingdoms, so Biology may be divided into Botany, -which treats of plants, and Zoölogy, which treats of animals. - -Now that we have divided all organized bodies into plants and animals, -it becomes necessary to inquire into the differences which subsist -between them, and which will enable us to separate the kindred -sciences of Botany and Zoölogy. Nothing was thought so easy by older -observers than the determination of the animal or vegetable nature -of any given organism, but, in point of fact, no hard-and-fast line -can be drawn, in the existing state of our knowledge, between the -animal and vegetable kingdoms, and it is sometimes difficult, or even -impossible, to decide with positiveness whether we are dealing with a -plant or an animal. In the higher orders of the two kingdoms there is -no difficulty in reaching a decision, the higher animals being readily -separated from the higher plants by the possession of a nervous system, -of a locomotive power which can be voluntarily exercised, and of an -internal cavity adapted for the reception and digestion of solid food. -No so-called nervous system or organs of sense are possessed by the -higher plants, although some of them doubtlessly manifest conscious -and intelligent action, nor are they capable of voluntary changes of -place, nor provided with any definite internal cavity, their food being -generally fluid or gaseous. - -Descending the scale to the very bottom, we reach a class of animals, -the Protozoa, which cannot be separated in many cases from the -Protophyta by these distinctions, since many of the former have -no digestive cavity, nor the slightest trace of a nervous system, -while many of the latter possess the power of active locomotion. As -to external configuration, no certain rules can be laid down for -separating animals and plants, many of the lower plants, either in -their earlier stages, or in their maturity, being exactly similar -in form to some of the lower animals. This is the case with some of -the Algæ, which resemble very closely in form certain Infusorian -animalcules. Again, many undoubted animals, which are rooted to solid -objects in their adult state, are so plant-like in appearance as -to be popularly regarded as vegetables. The Sea-firs, and the more -highly organized Flustras or Sea-mats, which are usually considered -as sea-weeds by sea-side visitors, are a few of many examples that -might be taken from the so-called Hydroid Zoöphytes. No decided -distinction between animals and plants can be drawn as to their minute -internal structure, both alike consisting of molecules, of cells, or -of fibres. Some decided, though not universal, differences exist in -chemical composition. Plants exhibit a decided predominance of ternary -compounds, or compounds which, like sugar, starch and cellulose, are -made up of the three elements, carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, but are, -comparatively speaking, poorly supplied with quaternary compounds, or -those which contain an additional element of nitrogen. Animals, on -the contrary, are rich in quaternary nitrogenized compounds, such as -albumen or fibrin. Still, in both kingdoms we find nitrogenized and -non-nitrogenized compounds, and it is only in the proportion which -these sustain to each other in the organism that animals differ in any -way from plants. - -Before the invention of the microscope, no independent voluntary -movements, if we except the opening and closure of flowers, and their -turning towards the sun, the drooping of the leaves of sensitive plants -under irritation, and some other kindred phenomena, were known in -plants. Now, however, we know of many plants which are endowed, either -when young or throughout life, with the power of effecting voluntary -movements apparently as spontaneous and independent as those performed -by the lower animals, the movements being brought about by means of -little vibrating cilia, or hairs, with which a part or the whole of -the surface is furnished. When it is added that many animals are -permanently rooted, in their fully-grown condition, to solid objects, -it will at once be apparent that no absolute distinction can be made -between animals and plants merely because of the presence or absence of -independent locomotive power. - -There is, however, a test, the most reliable of all that have been -discovered, by which an animal may be distinguished from a plant, and -that is the nature of the food and the products which are elaborated -therefrom in the body. Plants live upon such inorganic substances -as water, carbonic acid and ammonia, and they have the power of -manufacturing out of these true organic materials, and are therefore -the great producers of nature. All plants which contain green coloring -matter, technically called chlorophyll, break up carbonic acid in the -process of digestion into its two constituents of carbon and oxygen, -retaining the former and setting the latter free. And as the atmosphere -always contains carbonic acid in small quantities, the result is that -plants remove carbonic acid therefrom and give out oxygen. Animals, on -the other hand, have no power of living on water, carbonic acid and -ammonia, nor of converting these into the complex organic substances of -their bodies. That their existence may be maintained animals require to -be supplied with ready-made organic compounds, and for these they are -all dependent upon plants, either directly or indirectly. In requiring -as food complex organic bodies, which they ultimately reduce to very -simply inorganic ones, animals are thus found to differ from plants. -Whilst plants are the great manufacturers in nature, animals are the -great consumers. Another distinction, arising from the nature of their -food, is that animals absorb oxygen and throw out carbonic acid, their -reaction upon the atmosphere being exactly the reverse of that of -plants. There are organisms, it must be understood, which are genuine -plants so far as their nutritive processes are concerned, but which, -nevertheless, are in the possession of characters which could locate -them among the animals. Volvox, so abundant in our streams during the -proper seasons, affords a splendid illustration of the truth of this -statement. Plants, which are devoid of chlorophyll, as is the case with -the Fungi, do not possess the power of decomposing carbonic acid under -the influence of sunlight, but are like animals in requiring organic -compounds for their food. Two points must therefore be borne in mind -in regarding the general distinctions between plants and animals which -we have thus briefly outlined, and these are that they cannot often be -applied in practice to ambiguous microscopic organisms, and certainly -not to plant-forms that are destitute of chlorophyll. - -That life should manifest itself certain conditions are essential, -but some of which, though generally present, are not absolutely -indispensable. One condition, however, seems to be very necessary, and -that is that the living body should be composed of a certain material. -This material, which forms the essential and fundamental parts of -everything living, whether vegetable or animal, is technically called -protoplasm. Other substances than it are often found in living bodies, -but it is in protoplasm only that vitality appears to be inherent. - -But whether it is the same in plants as in animals is a matter of -opinion. One thing, however, seems reasonably certain, and that is that -it is the medium or vehicle through which vital force is made manifest. -Used in its general sense, protoplasm is chemically related in its -nature to albumen, and generally has the character of a jelly-like, -semi-fluid, transparent material, which, in itself, exhibits no -definiteness of structure. When heated to a certain temperature it -coagulates, just as the white of an egg does when boiled. Living -protoplasm has the power of movement, of increasing in size or of -maintaining its existence by the assimilation of fresh and foreign -materials, and of detaching portions of itself which may subsequently -develop into fresh masses. Though protoplasm be present in the ova of -animals and the seeds of plants, yet there is no external and visible -manifestation of life. There is in them what is called a dormant -vitality, which may remain for a long time unchanged, until altered -external circumstances cause the organism to pass into a state of -active life. - -Generally, certain external conditions must be present before any -external vital phenomena can be manifested. The presence of atmospheric -air, or rather of free oxygen, is in an ordinary way essential to -active life. Life, that is its higher manifestations, is only possible -between certain ranges of temperature, varying from near the freezing -point to about 120° Fahrenheit. As water is a necessary constituent of -protoplasm in its living state, so it becomes an absolutely essential -requisite to the carrying on of vital processes of all kinds, for -the mere drying of an animal or plant will, in most cases, kill it -outright, and will always bring about a suspension of all visible -life-phenomena. - -While the large majority of living beings are organized, or composed of -different parts, called organs, which sustain certain relations with -one another, and which discharge different offices, yet it must not -therefore be concluded that organization is a necessary accompaniment -of vitality, or that all living creatures are organized. Innumerous low -forms of life, so low that they occupy the very lowest place in the -scale of animated existences, absolutely exhibit no visible structure, -and cannot, therefore, be said to be organized, but they, nevertheless, -discharge all their vital functions just as well as though they -possessed special organs for the purpose. Concluding our theme, we -are forced to admit that animals are organized, or possess structure, -because they are alive, and not that they live because they are -organized. By carefully comparing the morphological and physiological -differences between different animals and plants, naturalists have -divided the entire animal and vegetable kingdoms into a number of -divisions, whose leading characteristics may be found in almost every -text-book. All that we promised ourselves when this work was first -thought of was a brief treatment of a few of the most interesting -life-forms of this planet of ours in the light of their ways and -doings, and the direction of human thought to those traits of character -and manifestations of conscious intelligence which fit them to become -partakers with man of that new life which awaits him beyond the grave. - - - - -PLANTS THAT FEED ON INSECTS. - - -Perhaps it would be difficult to find in the whole range of vegetable -creation anything more curious than the carnivorous or flesh-eating -plants. That animals eat plants creates in us no emotion of curiosity, -for this is the common law of nature. But that plants should devour -animals is a marvel to which few minds uninitiated in science would -give credence. Though these strange forms of vegetable life have been -known for about a century, yet it has been but a few years since the -attention of naturalists was first specially called to their habits -and character. No one has probably done more to explain the life and -operations of the flesh-eating plants than Mr. Darwin. - -For centuries strange rumors had been circulated of the existence of -huge plants in the more remote and unvisited parts of Asia which would -imprison and destroy large animals and men that would venture within -reach of their great quivering leaves armed with hooked spines, the -flesh of the dead victim being absorbed into their structure, but all -these giant flesh-eating trees or plants have so far proved to be mere -myths. Science has discovered, however, that there is some foundation -for these exciting fictions, and it has not been obliged to go to -the distant East to find it, for flesh-eating plants are by no means -uncommon in this country and Europe. But these plants confine their -destructive propensities to the crawling and flying insects which -are beguiled by some tempting reward to rest on their leaves. Such a -strange provision of nature is no less interesting than if these plants -had the power to destroy the larger animals, for it is the fact itself -which startles the attention by its seeming reversal of natural laws. - -No better example of carnivorous plants could be taken than _Dionæa -muscipula_, or to use the common name, Venus’s Fly-trap. It is a -species that is indigenous to North Carolina and the adjacent parts of -South Carolina, affecting sandy bogs in the pine forests from April -to June, and a representative of the _Droscraceæ_, or Sundew Family. -One cannot fail after once seeing it of becoming impressed with its -peculiar characteristics. It is a smooth perennial herb with tufted -radical leaves on broadly-winged, spatulate stems, the limb orbicular, -notched at both ends, and fringed on the margins with strong bristles. -From the centre of the rosette of leaves proceeds at the proper time -a scape or leafless stalk which terminates in an umbel-like cyme of -from eight to ten white bracted flowers, each flower being one inch -in diameter. The roots are small and consist of two branches each an -inch in length springing from a bulbous enlargement. Like an epiphytic -orchid, these plants can be grown in well-drained damp moss without any -soil, thus showing that the roots probably serve for the absorption -of water solely. Three minute pointed processes or filaments, placed -triangularly, project from the upper surface of each lobe of the -bi-lobed leaf, although cases are observed where four and even ten -filaments are found. These filaments are remarkable for their extreme -sensitiveness to touch, as shown not only by their own movement, but by -that of the lobes also. Sharp, rigid projections, diminutive spikes as -it were, stand out from the leaf-margins, each of which being entered -by a bundle of spiral vessels. They are so arranged that when the lobes -close they interlock like the teeth of an old-fashioned rat-trap. That -considerable strength may be had, the mid-rib of the leaf, on the lower -side, is quite largely developed. - -Minute glands, of a reddish or purplish color, thickly cover the upper -surface of the leaf, excepting towards the margins, the rest of the -leaf being green. No glands are found upon the spikes or upon the -foliaceous footstalk. From twenty to thirty polygonal cells, filled -with purple fluid, constitute each gland. They are convex above, -somewhat flattened underneath, and stand on very short pedicels, into -which spiral vessels do not enter. They have the power of secretion -under certain influences, and also that of absorption. Minute octofid -projections, of a reddish-brown color, are scattered in considerable -numbers over the footstalk, the backs of the leaves and the spikes, -with a few on the upper surfaces of the lobes. - -The sensitive filaments, which are a little more than one-twentieth -of an inch in length, and thin, delicate and tapering to a point, are -formed of several rows of elongated cells, filled with a purplish -fluid. They are sometimes bifid or even trifid at the apex, and towards -the base there is a constriction formed of broader cells, and beneath -the constriction an articulation, supported on an enlarged base, -consisting of differently shaped polygonal cells. As the filaments -project at right angles to the surface of the leaf, they would have -been in danger of being broken off whenever the lobes closed together -had it not been for the articulation, which allows them to bend flat -down. So exquisitely sensitive are these filaments, from their tips -to their bases, to a momentary touch, that it is hardly possible to -touch them even so lightly or quickly with any hard object without -causing the lobes to close, but a piece of delicate human hair, two and -a-half inches in length, held dangling over a filament so as to touch -it, or pinches of fine wheaten flour, dropped from a height, produce -no effect. Though not glandular, and hence incapable of secretion, -yet the filaments by their sensitiveness to a momentary touch, which -is followed by the rapid closure of the lobes of the leaf, assure to -Dionæa the necessary supply of insect food for all its wants. - -Inorganic bodies, even of large size, such as bits of stone, glass -and such like, or organic bodies not containing nitrogeneous matter -in a soluble condition, as bits of cork, wood, moss for examples, or -bodies containing soluble nitrogeneous matter, if perfectly dry, such -as small pieces of meat, albumen, gelatine, etc., may be long left on -the lobes, and no movement is excited. But when nitrogeneous organic -bodies, which are all damp, are left on the lobes, the result is widely -different, for these then close by a slow and gradual movement and not -in a rapid manner as when one of the sensitive filaments is touched -by a hard substance. Small purplish, almost sessile glands, as has -already been stated, thickly cover the upper surface of the lobes. -These have the power both of secretion and absorption, but they do not -secrete until excited by the absorption of nitrogeneous matter. No -other excitement, as far as experiments show, produces this effect. -When the lobes are made to close over a bit of meat or an insect, the -glands over the entire surface of the leaf emit a copious discharge, as -in this case the glands on both sides are pressed against the meat or -insect, the secretion being twice as great as when the one or the other -is laid on the surface of a single lobe; and as the two lobes come -into almost close contact the secretion, containing dissolved animal -matter, diffuses itself by capillary attraction, causing fresh glands -on both sides to begin secreting in a continually widening circle. The -secretion is almost colorless, slightly mucilaginous, moderately acid, -and so copious at times in the furrow over the mid-rib as to trickle -down to the earth. But all this secretion is for the purposes of -digestion. Be the animal matter which the enclosed object yields ever -so little, it serves as a peptogene, and the glands on the surface of -the leaf pour forth their acid discharge, which acts like the gastric -juice of animals. - -[Illustration: VENUS’S FLY-TRAP. - -How It Captures Insects.] - -Now as to the manner in which insects are caught by the leaves of -_Dionæa muscipula_. In its native country they are caught in large -numbers, but whether they are attracted in any special way no one -seems to know. Both lobes close with astonishing quickness as soon -as a filament is touched, and as they stand at less than a right -angle to each other, they have an excellent chance of capturing any -intruder. The chief seat of the movement is near the mid-rib, but is -not restricted to this part. Each lobe, when the lobes come together, -curves inwards across its whole breadth, the marginal spikes alone not -becoming curved. From the curving inwards of the two lobes, as they -advance towards each other, the straight marginal spikes intercross -by their apices at first, and ultimately by their bases. The leaf is -then completely shut and encloses a shallow cavity. If made to shut -merely by the touching of one of the sensitive filaments, or by the -inclusion of an object not yielding soluble nitrogeneous matter, the -two lobes retain their inwardly concave form until they re-expand. The -re-expansion, when no organic matter is enclosed, varies according -to circumstances, a leaf in one instance being fully re-expanded in -thirty-two hours. - -But the lobes, when soluble nitrogeneous matter is included, instead -of remaining concave, thus containing within a concavity, slowly press -closely together throughout their entire breadth, and as this takes -place the margins gradually become a little everted, so that the -spikes, which at first intercrossed, at last project in two parallel -rows. So firmly do they become pressed together that, if any large -insect has been caught, a corresponding projection is clearly visible -on the outside of the leaf. When the two lobes are thus completely -closed, they resist being opened, as by a thin wedge driven with -astonishing force between them, and are generally ruptured rather than -yield. If not ruptured, they close again with quite a loud flap. The -slow movement spoken of, excited by the absorption of diffused animal -matter, suffices for its final purpose, whilst the movement brought on -by the touching of one of the sensitive filaments is rapid, and thus -indispensable for the capturing of insects. - -Leaves remain shut for a longer time over insects, especially if the -latter are large, than over meat. In many instances where they have -remained for a long period over insects naturally caught, they were -more or less torpid when they reopened, and generally so much so during -many succeeding days that no excitement of the filaments caused the -least movement. Vigorous leaves will sometimes devour prey several -times, but ordinarily twice, or, quite often, once is enough to render -them unserviceable. - -What purpose the marginal spikes, which form so conspicuous a feature -in the appearance of the plant, subserve was unknown until the genius -of Darwin solved the mystery. It was he that showed that elongated -spaces between the spikes, varying from one-fifteenth to one-tenth of -an inch in breadth according to the size of the leaf, are left open -for a short time before the edges of the lobes come into contact, -consequent upon the intercrossing of the tips of the marginal spikes -first, thus enabling an insect whose body is not thicker than these -measurements to escape, when disturbed by the closing lobes and -the increasing darkness, quite easily between the crossed spikes. -Moderately sized insects, if they try to escape between the bars, will -be pushed back into the horrid prison with the slowly closing walls, -for the spikes continue to close more and more until the lobes are -brought into contact. Very strong insects, however, manage to effect -their release. It would manifestly be a great disadvantage to the -plant to remain many days clasped over a minute insect, and as many -additional days or weeks in recovering its sensibility, inasmuch as -a very small insect would afford but little nourishment. Far better -would it be for the plant to wait until a moderately large insect was -captured, and to allow the little ones to escape, and this advantage is -gained by the slow intercrossing of the marginal spikes, which, acting -like the large meshes of a fishing-net, allow the small and worthless -fry to pass through. - -Touching any one of the six filaments is sufficient to cause both -lobes to close, these becoming at the instant incurved throughout -their entire breadth. The stimulus must therefore radiate in all -directions from any one filament, and it must also be transmitted with -considerable rapidity across the leaf, for in all ordinary cases, -as far as the eye can judge, both lobes close at the same time. -Physiologists generally believe that in irritable plants the excitement -is transmitted along, or in close connection with, the fibro-vascular -bundles. Those in Dionæa seem at first sight to favor this belief, for -they run up the mid-rib in a great bundle, sending off small bundles -almost at right angles on each side, which bifurcate occasionally as -they stretch towards the margin, the marginal branches from adjoining -branches uniting and entering the marginal spikes. Thus a continuous -zigzag line of vessels runs round the whole circumference of the -leaf, while in the mid-rib all the vessels are in close contiguity, -so that all parts of the leaf seem to be brought into some degree of -communication. The presence of vessels, however, is not necessary for -the transmission of the motor impulse, for it is transmitted from the -apices of the sensitive filaments, which are hardly one-tenth of an -inch in length, into which no vessels are seen to enter. Slits made -close to the bases of the filaments, parallel to the mid-rib, and thus -directly across the course of the vessels, sometimes on the inner -and sometimes on the outer sides of the filaments, do not interfere -with the transmission of the motor impulse along the vessels, and -conclusively show that there is no necessity for a direct line of -communication from the filament, which is touched towards the mid-rib -and opposite lobe, or towards the outer parts of the same lobe. -With respect to the movement of the leaves, the wonderful discovery -made by Dr. Burdon Sanderson, and published in 1874, offers an easy -explanation. There is, says this distinguished authority, a normal -electrical current in the blade and footstalk, which, when the leaves -are irritated, is disturbed in the same manner as is the muscle of an -animal when contraction takes place. - -After contraction has endured for a greater or less time, dependent -upon circumstances which we do not well understand, re-expansion of -the leaves is effected at an insensibly slow rate, whether or not any -object is enclosed, both lobes opening in all ordinary cases at the -same time, although each lobe may act to a certain extent independently -of the other. The re-expansion is not determined by the sensitive -filaments, for these may be cut off close to their bases, or be -entirely removed, and re-expansion occur in the usual manner. It is -believed that the several layers of cells forming the lower surface of -the leaf are always in a state of tension, and that it is owing to this -mechanical state, aided probably by fresh fluid being drawn into the -cells, that the lobes begin to separate as soon as the contraction of -the upper surface diminishes. - -Six known genera, Drosophyllum, Roridula, Byblis, Drosera, Dionæa and -Aldrovanda comprise the Droseraceæ, all of which capture insects. The -first three genera effect this purpose solely by the viscid fluid -secreted from their glands, and the last, like Dionæa, which has -already been described, through the closing of the blades of the leaf. -In these last two genera rapid movement makes up for the loss of viscid -secretion. But of all the genera none is more interesting than the -typical Sundews. - -Growing in poor peaty soil, and sometimes along the borders of ponds -where nothing else can grow, certain low herbaceous plants, called -Droseras, abound. So small and apparently insignificant are they, -that to the ordinary observer they are almost unnoticed. But they -have peculiarities of structure and nature that readily distinguish -them. Scattered thickly over their leaves are reddish bristles or -tentacles, each surmounted by a gland, from which an extremely viscid -fluid, sparkling in the sunlight like dew, exudes in transparent -drops. Hence the common name of Sundew by which the half-dozen species -found in the United States east of the Mississippi River are known. A -one-sided raceme, whose flowers open only when the sun shines, crowns -a smooth scape, which is devoid of tentacles. _Drosera rotundifolia_, -our commonest species, has a wide range, being indigenous to both -Europe and America. In the United States it extends from New England -to Florida and westward, and is occasionally associated with -_Drosera longifolia_, a form with long strap-shaped leaves, but -whose distribution is mostly restricted to maritime regions, from -Massachusetts to Florida. - -[Illustration: ROUND-LEAVED SUNDEW. - -Leaves Acting as Stomachs.] - -All of the species are remarkably similar in habits, capturing insects, -and digesting and absorbing the soft parts, a circumstance which -explains how these plants can flourish in an extremely poor soil where -mosses, which depend almost entirely upon the atmosphere for their -nourishment, only can live. Although the leaves of the Droseras at -a hasty glance do not appear green, owing to the purple color of the -tentacles, yet the superior and inferior surfaces of the blade, the -stalks of the central tentacles, and the petioles contain chlorophyll, -rendering the best of evidence that the plants obtain and assimilate -carbon dioxide from the air. But when the poverty of the soil where -these plants grow is considered, it is at once apparent that their -supply of nitrogen would be exceedingly small, or quite deficient, -unless they had the power of obtaining it from some other source. From -captured insects this important element is largely obtained, and thus -we are prepared to understand how it is that their roots, which consist -of only two or three slightly divided branches, from one-half to one -inch in length, and furnished with absorbent hairs, are so poorly -developed. From what has been stated it would seem that the roots but -serve to imbibe water, but there is no doubt that nutritious matters -would also be absorbed were they present in the soil. - -With the edges of its leaves curled so as to form a temporary stomach, -and with the glands of its closely-inflected tentacles pouring forth -their truly acid secretion, which dissolves animal matters that are -subsequently absorbed, Drosera may be said to feed like an animal. But, -unlike an animal, it drinks by means of its roots, and largely, too, -for it would not be able to supply its glands with the necessary viscid -fluid. The amount needed is by no means an inconsiderable quantity, as -two hundred and seventy drops may sometimes be exposed during a whole -day to a glaring sun. Such a profuse exudation implies preparations for -hosts of insect visitors. In this Drosera has not miscalculated. Its -bright pink blossoms and brilliant, glistening dew lure vast numbers of -the smaller kinds, and the larger ones, too, to certain death. But the -wholesale destruction of life that goes on is much in excess of what -the plant requires for food. While the smaller flies remain adherent -to the leaves, affording them the needed aliment, the larger insects, -after death, fall around the roots, where they decay and fertilize -the soil with nitrogen, which doubtless through the proper channels -makes its way into the body of the plant, thus helping to give it -tone and vigor. There are times when these plants work better than at -others, but whether this is caused by the electrical condition of the -atmosphere, or the amount of its contained moisture, is a question -which science has not positively determined. - -_Drosera longifolia_ folds it leaves entirely around its victim, from -the apex down to the petiole after the manner of its vernation, but -in _Drosera rotundifolia_, whose marginal tentacles are longer, the -tentacles simply curve around the object, the glands touching the -substance, like so many mouths receiving nourishment. Experimented -upon with raw beef, the tentacles of healthy leaves, from within to -without, but in periods of time varying from six to eight or nine -hours, clasp firmly the beef, almost concealing it from view. Equally -vigorous leaves, however, made no move towards clasping a bit of dry -chalk, a chip of flint, or a lump of earth. Bits of raw apple cause -a curving of the tentacles, but very few of the glands are seen -touching them. It would seem, therefore, that these plants are really -carnivorous, preferring animal substances, which they, by the aid of -some ferment analogous to pepsin, which is secreted by the glands, are -able to absorb. A minute quantity of already soluble animal matter is -the exciting cause, and this must be taken in by the glands, or there -is no secretion of the fermenting material. - -In all ordinary cases the glands alone are susceptible to excitement. -When excited, they do not themselves move or change form, but transmit -a motor impulse to the bending part of their own and adjoining -tentacles, and are thus carried towards the centre of the leaf. -Stimulants applied to the glands of the short tentacles on the disc -indirectly excite movement of the exterior tentacles, for the stimulus -of the glands of the disc acts on the bending part of the latter -tentacles, near their bases, and does not first travel up the pedicels -to the glands, to be then reflected back to the bending place. Some -influence, however, does travel up to the glands, causing them to -secrete most copiously, and the secretion to become acid, just such -an influence as that which in animals is transmitted along the nerves -to glands, modifying their power of secretion, independently of the -condition of the blood-vessels. Over organic substances that yield -soluble matter the tentacles remain clasped for a much longer time -than over those not acted upon by the secretion, or over inorganic -objects. That they have the power of rendering organic substances -soluble, that is, that they have the power of digestion, is no longer -a question of dispute. They certainly have this power, acting on -albuminous compounds in exactly the same manner as does the gastric -juice of mammals, the digested matter being afterwards absorbed. In -animals the digestion of albuminous compounds is effected by means of -a ferment, pepsin, together with weak hydrochloric acid, though almost -any acid will serve, yet neither pepsin nor an acid by itself has any -such power. It has been observed that when the glands of the disc are -excited by the contact of any object, especially of one containing -nitrogeneous matter, the outer tentacles and often the blade become -inflected, the leaf thereby becoming converted into a temporary cup or -stomach. The discal glands then secrete more copiously, the secretion -becoming acid, and, moreover, some influence being transmitted by them -to the glands of the exterior tentacles, causing them to emit a more -abundant secretion, which also becomes acid. This secretion is to a -certain extent antiseptic, as it checks the appearance of mould and -infusoria, and in this particular acts like the gastric juice of the -higher animals, which is known to arrest putrefaction by destroying the -microzymes. - -With animals, according to Schiff, mechanical irritation excites -the glands of the stomach to secrete an acid, but not pepsin. There -is strong reason to believe, too, that the glands of Drosera, which -are continually secreting viscid fluid to replace the losses by -evaporation, do not secrete the ferment proper for digestion when -mechanically irritated, but only after absorbing certain matters of -a nitrogeneous nature. The glands of the stomachs of animals secrete -pepsin only after they have absorbed certain soluble substances -designated peptogenes, showing a remarkable parallelism between the -glands of Drosera and those of the stomach in the secretion of their -appropriate acid and ferment. - -Not only animal matter, but also the albumen of living seeds, which -are injured or killed by the secretion, are acted upon by the glands -of Drosera. Matter is likewise absorbed from pollen, and from fresh -leaves. The stomachs of vegetable-feeding animals, as is only too well -known, possess a similar power of extracting nourishment from such -articles. Though properly an insectivorous plant, but as pollen, as -well as the seeds and leaves of surrounding plants, cannot fail to be -often or occasionally blown upon the glands of Drosera, yet it must be -credited with being to a certain extent a vegetable feeder. - -That a plant and an animal should secrete the same, or nearly the same, -complex digestive fluid, adapted for a similar purpose, is a wonderful -fact in physiology, but not more remarkable than the movements of a -tentacle consequent upon an impulse received from its own gland, the -movement at the bending place of the tentacle being always towards -the centre of the leaf, and so it is with all the tentacles when -their glands are excited by immersion in a suitable fluid. The short -tentacles in the middle part of the disc, however, must be excepted, -as these do not bend at all when thus excited. But when the motor -impulse comes from one side of the disc, the surrounding tentacles, -and even the short ones in the middle of the disc, all bend with -precision towards the point of excitement, no matter where it may be -located. This is in every way a remarkable phenomenon, for the leaf -appears as if endowed with animal sense and intelligence. It is all the -more remarkable when the motor impulse strikes the base of a tentacle -obliquely to its flattened surface, for then the contraction of the -cells must be restricted to one, two or a very few rows at one end, and -different sides of the surrounding tentacles must be acted on that all -may bend with precision to the point of excitement. The motor impulse, -as it spreads from one or more glands across the disc, enters the bases -of the surrounding tentacles, and instantly acts on the bending place, -but does not first proceed up the tentacles to the glands, causing them -to reflect back an impulse to their bases, although some influence -is sent up to the glands, whereby their secretion is soon increased -and rendered acid. The glands, being thus excited, send back some -other influence, dependent neither on increased secretion nor on the -inflection of the tentacles, which causes the protoplasm to aggregate -in cell beneath cell. This maybe called a reflex action. How it differs -from that which proceeds from the nerve-ganglion of an animal, if it -differ at all, no one can say. It is probably the only known case of -reflex action in the vegetable kingdom. - -Concerning the mechanism of the movements and the character of the -motor impulse little is known. During the act of inflection fluid -surely passes from one part to another of the tentacles. In explanation -of the fact it is claimed that the motor impulse is allied in nature -to the aggregating process, and that this causes the molecules of -the cell-walls to approach each other, as do the molecules of the -protoplasm within the cells, thereby causing the cells in all to -contract. This is probably the hypothesis that best accords with the -observed facts, although some strong objections may be urged against -this view. The elasticity of their outer cells, which comes into -activity as soon as those on the inner side cease contracting with -prepotent force, leads largely to the re-expansion of the tentacles, -but there is reason to suspect that fluid is continually and slowly -attracted into the outer cells during the act of re-expansion, thus -augmenting their tension. - -With respect to the structure, movements, constitution and habits of -_Dionæa muscipula_ and _Drosera rotundifolia_, as well as kindred -species, little has been made out by patient study and investigation -in comparison with what remains unexplained and unknown. Many of -their movements, especially of Dionæa and Drosera, seem so sensible -and intelligent that the reflecting mind of man can hardly hesitate -to assign them high positions in organic nature and the possession, -even though in a very small degree, of that consciousness with which -animal life is endowed. That man is psychically related to all life -is the belief of millions in the old world, and the hope of millions -in the new. In this thought is the escape from materialism, that -threat of the ignorant and unbelieving. Higher conceptions of beauty -and greatness are now being entertained by the multitudes, and we -begin to feel that the next great step is being taken when we shall -become, instead of poor trembling denizens of a perishable world, proud -and conscious citizens of an imperishable universe. That we of the -upper ranks of God’s creation alone possess an inner life which shall -transcend all change is no longer a general belief, but there is a -growing hope that all nature shares it, and that love is its expression -and its method. All existence is a unit. Life, law and love are divine. -Man, looking calmly about him, cannot set himself apart as something -essentially different from nature, but must recognize himself as a -part, and include love in the universal scheme of development. All -other expressions of life must share with him in the divine love and -progress. His dogmas, founded on mistaken traditions, have given way to -science, and he cannot but believe that love is in and of the soul, and -that all life has some sort of development of soul. Because plant-life -has no brain, and therefore has no intelligence, no mind, no soul, is -preposterous to contemplate. Who can positively affirm that brain alone -is the seat of conscious intelligence? None but He alone, the Giver of -all life, who sits enthroned and exalted in the everlasting heavens. - - - - -SLIME-ANIMALS. - - -Possibly the simplest of life’s children are the singularly unique and -structureless little Finger Slimes, which live not only in the sea but -also in puddles and pools, and in the gutters of our streets and of -our house-tops. Anywhere that stagnant water abounds these tiny drops -of slime will grow up and make it their home. Sometimes few and far -between, and sometimes in such immense crowds that the entire pond -would seem, if they could be seen with the unaided vision, literally -alive with them, they live, and multiply and die under our very feet. - -Nothing can be less animal-like than one of these shapeless masses -of pure protoplasm, yet under a microscope of strong power it may be -seen moving lazily along by pulling out a thick finger of slime and -then letting all the rest of its body flow after it. When coming into -contact with food it may be said to flow over it, dissolving the soft -parts and sending out the hard, indigestible refuse anywhere, no matter -where, for its body is devoid of skin, being merely one general mass of -homogeneous slime. - -But what can these little slime specks tell us about the wonderful -powers of life? Nothing at all, it would seem, for in these tiny -creatures life has nothing better to work with than a mere drop of -living matter, which is all alike throughout, so that if broken into -a hundred pieces every piece would be as much a living being as the -whole. And yet by means of the wonderful gift of life, with which -the all-wise Omnipotence has endowed it, this slime-drop lives, and -breathes, and eats, and increases, shrinks away when you touch it, -feels for its food, and moves from place to place, changing its shape -to form limbs and feeling-threads, which are let into the general -organism when they have served the purpose of their existing, only to -be succeeded by others as short-lived as themselves when necessity -requires their development. - -So small are these creatures that the largest specimen will be found -to be smaller than the smallest pin’s head. Examine how we will, there -will be found no mouth, no stomach, no muscles, no nerves, no parts of -any kind. The animal looks merely like a minute drop of gum with fine -grains diffused throughout, floating in the water, some times with -outstretched arms, and at other times as a simple drop. An analysis -of the matter of which it is composed shows it to be much the same as -a speck of white-of-egg. Yet it is alive, for it breathes. Kept in a -drop of water, it uses up the oxygen it contains, and renders the water -foul by the carbonic acid it breathes out. The arms, so necessary in -the procurement of food, can be drawn in and thrown out when and where -the animal chooses, showing that some option is undoubtedly exercised -in the matter. Minute jelly-plants, that live in the water, and even -higher animals than itself, constitute its food. The presence of an -animal with a shell does not deter it from attack, for it is just as -able to deal with it as with the softer, shell-less kinds, sucking -their jelly-like contents, and discarding the empty, innutritious -shells. - -Quite as interesting among the Moners, to which the Finger Slime -belongs, is the _Protomyxa aurantiaca_, a shapeless bit of transparent -matter, containing merely circulating granules. Locomotion is effected -by extending the body into pseudopodia, or false feet, and contracting -them. Its movement is slow and gliding. When at rest it appears as a -mere lump of jelly, but its whole demeanor changes when in the presence -of a living animal suited for food. Fine threads immediately begin to -shoot out from all sides, which fuse about the unsuspecting prey, while -all the little grains in the slime course to and fro. For five or six -hours the little fellow hugs closely round the prey until it has become -thoroughly absorbed, at least the nutritious parts, into its body-mass, -when it draws itself away, or back into its original place, leaving by -its side the skeleton of its late victim. Without eyes or ears or parts -of any kind it knows how to find its food; without muscles or limbs it -is able to seize it; without a mouth it can suck out its living body, -and without a stomach it can digest the food in the midst of its own -slime, and cast out the parts for which it has no use. - -[Illustration: PROTOMYXA FEEDING.] - -When Protomyxa has become a burden to itself it divides itself by a -simple process of fission, each part being complete in itself, or it -assumes a thick covering, becoming encysted, as it is termed. In a -little while the enclosed mass divides into spheres, the cell-wall -bursts, and the little spheres, which have now taken on a sort of -tadpole shape, float out upon the water, where they soon assume the -parent-form. - -Like all living things, these Moners have a desire for food, which -their protoplasm first appropriates, then converts into available -material. They thus grow and increase in size, but when they become -too large to be comfortable they usually split into two, in obedience -to the law of their being, and each half goes its own way as a living -animal. This is the earliest form of parentage, the simplest form -of reproduction. Thus yielding to this necessity of a separation of -one into more than one, these Moners live on forever, or as long as -the earth continues to support life, thus becoming immortal in the -scientific sense in which the term is used to devote a continuance of -the physical life on earth. They only and their nearest relatives, as -simple in structure as themselves, achieve this stupendous result, for -in such a division of their entire substance they know no loss, no -death of any part, violence only being able to sunder them from life. -They resolve themselves into their own offspring, and nothing perishes. - - - - -PRIMITIVE LASSO-THROWERS. - - -Every one knows that the long cord or thong, called the lasso, is the -peculiar weapon of the South American hunter. Almost from his earliest -childhood the young Gaucho learns to amuse himself with it, and as soon -as he is able to walk takes great pleasure in catching young birds and -other animals around his father’s hut, hurling the long lash with such -dexterity that the noose drops over their bodies and brings them to his -feet. Did we wish to select from among all the denizens of life the -most brilliant, graceful, and sylph-like, whose very life-histories -read more like the romance of poetry than sober reality, we would -choose those which might be appropriately designated the lasso-throwers. - -Now among animals, as is only too well known, any weapons which they -could be called upon to use must develop in their own bodies, and -therefore it could hardly be suspected that a simple jelly-animal could -be provided with a lasso ready grown in its own flesh. Yet it is so, -for in that class of animals, which ranks just above the sponges, we -discover a weapon of this kind as simple and as deadly, and far more -wonderful in its action than any used by man. - -In fresh-water ponds, attached by its base to the under surfaces of -aquatic plants, may be found a very small animal, just large enough to -be seen without the aid of a lens, usually pale green, but sometimes -of a brown color. This is our common hydra, technically called _Hydra -fusca_. It is nothing more than a tube or sac, with a sucker at one end -to hold on with, and a mouth at the other, surrounded with from five -to eight hollow tentacles or feelers, which opens into a central cavity -or stomach. Firm and muscular are the walls of the sac, so that the -little creature, which is not fixed permanently to whatever it is found -clinging to, may stretch itself out or draw back as its own volition -dictates, or move slowly along by means of its sucker, or float easily -or contentedly upon the water. But the most remarkable, as well as the -most interesting thing about this odd creature is the power which it -possesses of overcoming animals more powerful and active than itself. - -[Illustration: FRESH-WATER HYDRA MOORED AND SEARCHING FOR PREY.] - -Groping about with its flexible arms, which are closely invested with -fine jelly-hairs, with which it seemingly feels, or attached to some -leaf or bit of floating stick, its tentacles reaching out in all -directions, the Hydra instantly paralyzes any minute insects, young -snail or infusorian that touches its feelers, and complacently closing -its arms over the helpless victim, carefully tucks it away, so to -speak, into its stomach, where it is speedily digested. This power of -paralyzing and thus readily capturing active living creatures is due to -the presence in the skin of the tentacles and body of what are called -lasso-cells, or nettling-organs, which are minute, transparent cells, -so small that two hundred of the largest would occupy but the distance -of an inch, each being armed with a long barbed thread coiled up within -its walls. This delicate thread, which is often from twenty to forty -times the length of the cell, lies bathed in a poisonous fluid, and -only waits for the cell-walls to burst, which they do when the Hydra -touches an animal swimming near it, when thousands of these little -barbed cords dart into the victim, quickly paralyzing it and rendering -it an easy prey to its captor. All Cœlenterates, such as jelly-fishes -and coral polyps, possess these nettling-organs. - -Thus we see where the Hydra’s strength lies. He has no need to -struggle, for his victim, penetrated by a multitude of darts, and -made powerless by the poison instilled, becomes as manageable as an -equal bulk of inert matter. It behooves the little creature to take -things quietly, for a cell once burst cannot be used again, and he is -therefore compelled to wait until a new one is grown to take the place -of the one that has become exhausted. So he patiently bides his time -till his victim is half-conquered, when he draws him gently into his -body. He lives and catches his food, as must be apparent, without the -necessity of moving very far from the place where he had his birth. - -All the summer through the Hydra puts out buds from its side, which, -when their tentacles have grown, drop from the parent-body, and settle -down in life for themselves. But when winter comes, and before all life -has become extinct, an egg appears near the base of the tubes of those -that are living, and these eggs lie dormant till the next spring, when -they are hatched, and a new generation of Hydras is produced. Budding, -which is but a process of natural self-division, is carried on to a -large extent, more individuals being produced in this way than from -eggs. These buds are at first a simple bulging out of the body-walls, -the bud enveloping a portion of the stomach, until it becomes -constricted and drops off, the tentacles meanwhile budding out from the -distal end, and a mouth-opening arising between them. In the Hydra, -the Actinia, and other polyps, and in truth in all the lower animals, -budding is simply due to an increase in the growth and multiplication -of cells at a special place on the outside of the body. As in the -vertebrates, man included, the Hydra arises from an egg which, after -fertilization, passes through two stages, the germ consisting at first -of two cell-layers, but the sexes are not separate as in the marine -Hydroids, which grow in colonies that may be either male or female. - -Like some other animals of simple structure, the Hydra is capable of -reproducing to a most wonderful degree when cut into pieces. Divided -in two, each becomes a perfect Hydra, and even when sliced into any -number of thin rings each ring will grow out a crown of tentacles. You -may split them into longitudinal strips and each strip will eventually -become a well-shaped Hydra. Two individuals may be fastened together -by a horse-hair and in a short time they will have become like Siamese -twins, but there will never arise the slightest disagreement between -them. A Hydra turned inside out will readily adapt itself to the -change, and in a few days will be able to swallow and digest bits -of meat, its former stomach-lining having now taken upon itself the -condition of skin. - -_Hydra fusca_ is our simplest lasso-thrower, and the only one to be -found in fresh waters in this country. Such a wonderful and deadly -weapon is his, that it is easy to understand how his numerous relatives -in the wide ocean have made good use of the weapon with which nature -has provided them, and secured, under all kinds of shapes and forms, -homes and resting-places throughout the vast waste of waters. From the -Arctic to the Tropics, and from the shallow seaside pools at low tide -to the fathomless abysses of the ocean, we meet the lasso-throwers. -Now in the form of huge jelly-fishes, covering the sea for miles and -miles, transparent domes by day and phosphorescing lights by night, and -now as tiny balls of jelly, glistening by millions in some quiet bay -and splintering into light upon the beach; or in the form of living -animal-trees waving their graceful arms over rocks in waters deep, or -creeping like delicate threads over shells and stones and seaweed on -the shore, where they often lose their identity and are mistaken for -plants. There is scarcely a nook or cranny in the bed of ocean where -these tree-like forms, associated with the beautiful sea-anemone, whose -brilliant crimson, green and purple are unmatched in color by gem and -flower, are not to be found. - -All these beautiful creatures, as well as the living coral that nestles -in the bosom of the warm Mediterranean or the sea that lashes our -Southern shores, or that struggles boldly against Pacific’s waves, -are lasso-throwers. _Cœlenterata_, the “hollow-bodied animals,” -because of the large cavity within their bodies, is the name by which -they are known to science. They naturally fall into two families, -the _Hydrozoa_, or Water Animals, and the _Actinizoa_, or Ray-like -Animals, our little Hydra, about which so much has been written, being -representative of the former and the Anemones of the latter division. - - - - -FIVE-FINGERED JACK ON THE OYSTER. - - -Quite as infinite in number, variety and form is the life of the -sea as that of the land. But of all marine animals, however, there -is none more curious than the echinoderm, a name derived by science -from two Greek words, indicating an animal bristling with spines like -the hedgehog. These creatures are sometimes free, but quite as often -attached by a stem, flexible or otherwise, and radiate after the -fashion of a circle or star, or are of the form of a star, with more -or less elongated arms. They are covered with shell-like plates, which -they secrete for themselves, and are still further protected by spines -or scales. - -Perhaps the most common of the echinoderms is the Star-fish, or -Five-fingered Jack, as it is called by sailors. Whoever has spent -any time on the seashore has doubtless made the acquaintance of -this animal, for it is readily distinguishable by its shape, its -upper surface being rough and tuberculous, and armed with spine-like -projections, while the under portion is soft, containing the essential -organs of life and locomotion. - -When first seen stranded on the shore the Star-fish, by the -uninitiated, is thought to be a creature incapable of movement of -any kind. But this is far from being the case, for in its native -element it moves along the bottom of the sea with the greatest ease, -being provided with an apparatus specially adapted for the purpose. -Ordinarily its arms are kept upon the same level, but in passing over -obstacles that lay in its path, the animal has the power of raising -any one of its several arms. Elevations are ascended with the same -ease and facility as progression on plane surfaces is effected. -Perforating the arms, or rays, and issuing from apertures, will be -found large numbers of membranous tubes, which prove to be the feet -of the animal. Upon careful examination the latter will be found to -consist of two parts, a bladder-like portion, resident within the body, -and a tubular outlying projection, ending in a disk-shaped sucker, thus -showing the feet to be muscular cylinders, hollow in the centre, and -very extensible. In progression the animal extends a few of its feet, -attaches its suckers to the rocks or stones and then, by retracting its -feet, draws the body forward. Like that of the tortoise, its pace is -slow and sure. But the most singular thing about this singular animal -is its manner of overcoming obstructions, which it must certainly -perceive, judging from the preparations to surmount them which it makes -at the opportune moment. - -In addition to organs of locomotion Star-fishes possess blood-vessels, -digestive and respiratory apparatus, and a nervous system of a very -low order, an inference to which its seeming capacity of enduring -vivisection without pain unmistakably leads. - -Interesting as its manner of progression, even under the most trying -circumstances, must be, yet there is nothing in the life of this -lowly-organized animal that has half the charm to the true lover and -student of nature than the mother Star’s devotion to her young. Her -eggs she carries in little pouches placed at the base of the rays. When -emitted through an opening, which occasionally and unintentionally -occurs, the mother does not abandon them to the cruel charities of the -ocean world, but gathers them together, forming a kind of protecting -cover of them, very much like a hen brooding over her chickens. Her -actions bespeak an anxiety which could only be born of an affection, as -real and sympathetic as that which a human mother feels for the loss of -any of her offspring. No matter how often the eggs become accidentally -scattered, the mother does not grow weary of her charges and leave -them to themselves, but gathers them to the maternal fold with the same -tender, patient solicitude as characterized her first efforts. Confined -to a tank, when with ova, the mother Star has been known to traverse -the entire length of the vessel until she has found and recovered her -scattered treasures. - -Reproduction by eggs is not the only means of generation in vogue. In -common with other sea animals the Star-fish has the strange capacity -of detaching one or more of its arms, each of the cast-off members -becoming in time a perfect creature of its own kind, while a new arm, -fully equipped to perform all necessary functions, will grow out in -place of the lost member. From twelve to fifteen weeks are required -to reproduce a lost ray, the animal meanwhile seeming not the least -discontented, but acting as utterly unconscious of any changes in its -anatomy. - -As found upon the shore, Star-fishes appear dead when really they are -alive. Put one of these perfectly still creatures into fresh sea-water, -and in a short time it will probably be disporting itself as freely as -ever it did. But as the dead and the living, when stranded by the tide, -present nearly the same appearance, some certain test seems necessary -to distinguish them apart. If a Star-fish hangs loose and limp, it -is dead; but, however dead it may look, if on touching it there are -manifest a firmness and consistency in its substance, one may feel -reasonably sure that it is playing the ’possum and will revive when -placed in the water. Quite as certain a mode of ascertaining whether -your starry friend is living or dead, is to lay it upon its back, when, -if alive, a number of semi-transparent globular objects will be seen -to move, reaching this way and that, as though feeling for something -to lay hold of wherewith to restore it to its normal position. These -globular appendages are the _ambulacra_, or locomotory organs, seeking -to acquire this end. If, however, no movement is manifested, you can -wisely conclude that your animal is dead. - -The Star-fish, not unlike all other animals of the sea, has an appetite -that is never satisfied. Dinner is always welcome. The procurement of -food seems its chief concern in life. It is a scavenger of no mean -importance, keeping up an incessant chase after all kinds of dead -animal matter, and thus largely contributing, it is probable, towards -the maintaining of the waters of the ocean in a state of purity. But -its feeding is not exclusively restricted to decaying matters. Any -species of mollusk, from the humble whelk, not more than five-eighths -of an inch in length, to the lordly oyster, so esteemed by epicures, -constitutes a dainty tidbit. No more inveterate ravager and brigand, -not even excepting man himself, have the oyster-beds to disturb -the equanimity and serenity of their existence than the audacious, -insinuating Star-fish. - -With its five arms, and apparently without any other organ, this -comparatively insignificant little being accomplishes a work which man, -without the aid of extraneous appliances, is quite unable to execute. -It opens an oyster as deftly and effectually as an expert oysterman -would do, and that, too, without the habitual oyster-knife, and -swallows the slimy bivalve in the same manner as the lords of creation -do. Man, with all his genius and skill, were he deprived of all other -means of subsistence than the oyster, and having no implement with -which to open it, would be severely puzzled to get at the savory morsel -shut up in its obstinate valves, yet the Star-fish performs the task -seemingly without the least difficulty. - -How the Star-fish manages the problem was at first a matter of -guess-work. For a long time it was confidently believed that the animal -waited for the moment when the oyster opened its shell to introduce one -of its arms into the opening. This much gained, the other four arms -were got in without much trouble, and the whole business ended with -the devouring of the inmate. This belief is no longer tenable. Careful -observation has revealed to us the true inwardness of the proceeding. -The oyster is seized between the arms of the Star-fish and held under -its mouth by the aid of its suckers. Thus secured, the Asterias, or -Star-fish, everts its stomach, and envelops the whole oyster in its -interior recesses, distilling a poisonous fluid, a secretion from its -mouth, which causes the oyster to open its shell, when the robber, as -it were, crawls in and takes its dessert. Incredible numbers of oysters -are destroyed by Star-fishes, but the oystermen fail to see that their -own barbaric ignorance is largely to blame. Star-fishes drawn up in -nets, rakes and dredges in immense quantities are tied into bundles, -but the cords are made so tight that the pile is cut in twain, the -result being that all the pieces, when afterwards thrown overboard, -become new and perfect Star-fishes. - -[Illustration: STAR-FISH OPENING AN OYSTER.] - -Not often has one the pleasure of meeting with these animals on the -New Jersey coast, but yet they are occasionally seen, more frequently, -perhaps, in the North. _Asterias berylinus_, the commoner form, is -a fairly large species, of a more or less greenish color, sometimes -waning to brown, and roughly covered with tubercles. Its five arms, at -the extremity of each of which is situated a single red-eye speck, are -somewhat irregularly arranged, and not rarely one is stumpy through -breakage or unequal development. - -When a Star-fish is alarmed, or finds itself in strange quarters, -it will be seen to curl up the tips of its rays, and there under -the point of each ray will be found a thick red spot seated on the -extremity of a nerve, and having in it as many as from one hundred -to two hundred crystal lenses surrounded by red cells. With such a -highly-developed eye, which is far better than the jelly-fish enjoys, -it is no wonder that the Star-fish is so quick in discerning food, -or enrages the fisherman by the discovery of the bait which he had -intended for other animals, for it turns out that this stupid-looking -animal is more wide-awake than it is given credit for. Sometimes, as -in the beautifully delicate Star-fish, called the “Lingthorn,” a soft -lid, or feeler, hangs over the eye-spot, which gives to the creature a -curiously intelligent look, but in the case of our common form this lid -is notably absent. - -From all that has been written it must be evident that our first -walking animal is by no means a poor or feeble creature. He has a chain -armor woven into his leathery skin, with sharp, pointed spines, and -snapping, beak-like claws to protect him; an excellent digestion and a -capacious mouth to feed his greedy stomach, and a fine array of nerves, -quick feeling and eyesight, and a wonderful apparatus for moving over -the ground. When it is added to all these possessions the ability to -close over the wound in the case of a lost ray and the growing of a new -one, we see that his powers of living satisfactorily are by no means -insignificant. But this curious walking apparatus of the Star-fish -is far from being perfect in all his relations. They do not all walk -by means of suckers any more than all sponge-animals build toilet -sponge, or all slime-animals make chambered shells. Sure, the Rosy -Feather-stars, for example, have no use for feet-tubes, as their lives -are generally spent upon the rocks or nestled in bunches of sea-weed. -Brittle-stars, as these are called, though closely related to the -Star-fishes, are not easily confounded with them, for their arms are -found to radiate from a clearly defined central disk, and there is no -prolongation of their stomachs and ovaries into their interiors. The -tube-feet pass out from the plates along the sides of the arms, instead -of from the under surface as in the Star-fishes proper, and probably -serve merely as a help for breathing, locomotion over the sands being -effected by their long flexible arms. Their home is chiefly among the -tangle and eel-grass, where their protecting covering affords them -security from their many enemies. - - - - -EARTH-WORMS IN HISTORY. - - -Earth-worms are found throughout the world. Though few in genera, and -not many in species, yet they make up in individual numbers, for it -has been estimated that they average about one hundred thousand to the -acre. Our American species have never been monographed, which renders -it impossible to judge of their probable number. Their castings may be -seen on commons, so as to cover almost entirely their surface, where -the soil is poor and the grass short and thin, and they are almost as -numerous in some of our parks where the grass grows well and the soil -appears rich. Even on the same piece of ground worms are much more -frequent in some places than in others, although no visible difference -in the nature of the soil is manifest. They abound in paved court-yards -contiguous to houses, and on the sidewalks in country towns, and -instances have been reported where they have burrowed through the -floors of very damp cellars. - -Beneath large trees few castings can be found during certain parts -of the year, and this is apparently due to the moisture having been -sucked out of the ground by the innumerable roots of the trees, an -explanation which seems to be confirmed by the fact that such places -may be observed covered with castings after the heavy autumnal rains. -Although most coppices and woods support large numbers of worms, yet -in forests of certain kinds of tree-growths, where the ground beneath -is destitute of vegetation, not a casting is seen over wide reaches -of ground, even during the autumn. In mountainous districts worms are -mostly rare, it would seem, a circumstance which is perhaps owing to -the close proximity of the subjacent rocks, into which it is impossible -for them to burrow during the winter, so as to escape being frozen. But -there are some exceptions to this rule, for they have been found at -great altitudes in certain parts of the world, and especially is this -so in India, where they have been observed to be quite numerous upon -the mountains. - -Though in one sense semi-aquatic animals, like the other members of the -great class of Annelids to which they belong, yet it cannot be denied -that earth-worms are terrestrial creatures. Their exposure to the dry -air of a room for a single night proves fatal to them, while on the -other hand they have been kept alive for nearly four months completely -submerged in water. During the summer, when the ground is dry, they -penetrate to a great depth and cease to work, just as they do in winter -when the ground is frozen. They are nocturnal in their habits, and -may be seen crawling about in large numbers at night, but generally -with their tails still inserted in their burrows. By the expansion of -this part of the body, and with the aid of the short reflexed bristles -with which they are armed inferiorly, they hold so securely that they -can seldom be withdrawn from the ground without being torn in pieces. -But during the day, except at the time of pairing, when those which -inhabit adjoining burrows expose the greater part of their bodies for -an hour or two in the early morning, they remain in their burrows. -Sick individuals, whose illness is caused by the parasitic larvæ of a -fly, must also be excepted, as they wander about during the day and -die on the surface. Astonishing numbers of dead worms may sometimes be -seen lying on the ground after a heavy rain succeeding dry weather, no -less than a half-hundred in a space of a few square yards, but these -are doubtless worms that were already sick, whose deaths were merely -hastened by the ground being flooded, for if they had been drowned -it is probable, from the facts already given, that they would have -perished in their burrows. - -After there has been a heavy rain the film of mud or of very fine sand -to be seen over gravel-walks in the morning is often distinctly marked -with the tracks of worms. From May to August, inclusive, this has been -noticed when the months have been wet. Very few dead worms are anywhere -to be seen on these occasions, although the walks are marked with -innumerable tracks, five tracks often being counted crossing a space -of only an inch square, which could be traced either to or from the -mouths of the burrows in the gravel-walks for distances varying from -three to fifteen yards, but no two tracks being seen to lead to the -same burrow. It is not likely, from what is known of the sense-organs -of these animals, that a worm could find its way back to its burrow -after having once left it. They leave their burrows, it would seem, on -a voyage of discovery, and thus they find new sites for the exercise of -their powers. For hours together they may often be seen lying almost -motionless beneath the mouths of their burrows. But let the ejected -earth or rubbish over their burrows be suddenly removed and the end of -the worm’s body may be seen rapidly retreating. - -This habit of lying near the surface leads to their destruction to an -immense extent, for, at certain seasons of the year, the robins and -blackbirds that visit our lawns in the country may be observed drawing -out of their holes an astonishing number of worms, which could not be -done unless they lay close to the surface. But what brings the worms -to the surface? This is a question whose answer cannot be positively -asserted. It is not probable that they behave in this manner for the -purpose of breathing fresh air, for it has been seen that they can live -a long time under water. That they are there for the sake of warmth, -especially in the morning, is a more reasonable supposition, which -seems to be confirmed by the fact that they often coat the mouths of -their burrows with leaves, apparently to prevent their bodies from -coming into contact with the cold, damp earth, and by the still other -fact that they completely close their burrows during the winter. - -Some remarks about the structure of the earth-worm now appear apropos. -Its body consists of from one hundred to two hundred almost cylindrical -rings, each provided with minute bristles. The muscular system is well -developed, thus enabling these animals to crawl backwards as well as -forwards, and to retreat by the help of their affixed tails into their -burrows with extraordinary rapidity. Situated at the anterior end -of the body is the mouth. It is furnished with a little projection, -variously called the lobe or lip, which is used for prehension. Behind -the mouth, internally located, is a strong pharynx, which is pushed -forwards when the animal eats, corresponding, it is said, with the -protrudable trunk of other Annelids. The pharynx conducts to the -œsophagus, on each side of the lower part of which are placed three -pairs of large glands, called calciferous glands, whose function is -the secretion of carbonate of lime. These glands are very remarkable -organs, and their like is not to be found in any other animal. Their -use is connected in some way with the process of digestion. The -œsophagus, in most of the species, is enlarged into a crop in front of -the gizzard. This latter organ is lined with a smooth, thick chitinous -membrane, and is surrounded by weak, longitudinal, but powerful -transverse muscles, whose energetic action is most effectual in the -trituration of the food, for these worms possess no jaws, or teeth -of any kind. Grains of sand and small stones, from the one-twentieth -to the one-tenth of an inch in size, are found in their gizzards and -intestines, and these little stones, independently of those swallowed -while excavating their burrows, most probably serve, like millstones, -to triturate their food. The gizzard opens into the intestine--a most -remarkable structure, an intestine within an intestine--which runs in a -straight line to the vent at the posterior end of the body. But this -curious structure, as shown by Claparède, merely consists of a deep -longitudinal involution of the walls of the intestine, by which means -an extensive absorbent surface is secured. - -Worms have a well-developed circulating system. Their breathing -is effected by the skin, and so they do not possess any special -respiratory apparatus. Each individual unites the two sexes in its -own body, but two individuals pair together. The nervous system is -fairly well developed, the two nearly confluent cerebral ganglia being -situated very close to the anterior extremity of the body. - -Being destitute of eyes, we would naturally conclude that worms were -quite insensible to light; but from many experiments that have been -made by Darwin, Hofmeister and others, it is evident that light -affects them, but only by its intensity and duration. It is the -anterior extremity of the body, where the cerebral ganglia lie, that is -affected, for if this part is shaded and other parts of the body are -illuminated no effect will be produced. As these animals have no eyes, -it is probable that the light passes through their skins and excites in -some manner their cerebral ganglia. When worms are employed in dragging -leaves into their burrows or in eating them, and even during the brief -intervals of rest from their labors, they either do not perceive the -light or are regardless of it, and this is even the case when the light -is concentrated upon them through a large lens. Paired individuals will -remain for an hour or two together out of their burrows, fully exposed -to the morning light, but it appears, from what some writers have said, -that a light will occasionally cause paired individuals to separate. -When a worm is suddenly illuminated and dashes into its burrow, one -is led to look at the action as a reflex one, the irritation of the -cerebral ganglia apparently causing certain muscles to contract in an -inevitable manner, without the exercise of the will or consciousness -of the animal, as though it was an automaton. But the different effect -which a light produces on different occasions, and especially the fact -that a worm when in any way occupied, no matter what set of muscles -and ganglia may be brought into play, is often regardless of light, -are antagonistic to the view of the sudden withdrawal being a simple -reflex action. With the higher animals, when close attention to some -object leads to the disregard of the impressions which other objects -must be producing upon them, we ascribe this to their attention being -then absorbed, and attention necessarily implies the presence of mind. -Although worms cannot be said to possess the power of vision, yet their -sensitiveness to light enables them to discriminate between day and -night, and thus they escape the attacks of the many diurnal animals -that would prey upon them. They are less sensitive to a moderate -radiant heat than to a bright light, as repeated experiments have -conclusively shown; and their disinclination to leave their burrows -during a frost proves that they are sensitive to a low temperature. - -Investigation fails to locate in worms any organ of hearing, from -which must be concluded that they are insensible to sounds. The shrill -notes of a metallic whistle sounded near them, and the deepest and -loudest tones of a bassoon, failed to awaken the least notice. Although -indifferent to modulations in the air, audible to human ears, yet -they are extremely sensitive to vibrations in any solid object. Even -the light and delicate tread of a robin affrights and sends them deep -into their burrows. It has been said that if the ground is beaten, -or otherwise made to tremble, that worms believe they are pursued by -a mole and leave their burrows, but this does not stand the test of -experiment, for the writer has frequently beaten the ground in many -places where these creatures abounded, but not one emerged. A worm’s -entire body is sensitive to contact, the slightest puff of air from the -mouth causing an instant retreat. When a worm first comes out of its -burrow it generally moves the much-extended anterior extremity of its -body from side to side in all directions, apparently as an object of -touch, and there is good reason to believe that they are thus enabled -to gain a general knowledge of the form of an object. Touch, including -in this term the perception of a vibration, seems much the most highly -developed of all their senses. The sense of smell is quite feeble, and -is apparently confined to the perception of certain odors. They are -quite indifferent to the human breath, even when tainted by tobacco, -or to a pellet of cotton-wool with a few drops of Millefleur’s perfume -when held by pincers and moved about within a few inches of them. The -perception of such an unnatural odor would be of no service to them. -Now, as such timid creatures would almost certainly exhibit some signs -of any new impression, we may reasonably conclude that they did not -perceive these odors. But when cabbage leaves and pieces of onion were -employed, both of which are devoured with much relish by worms, the -result was different. These, with bits of fresh raw meat, have been -buried in pots beneath one-fourth of an inch of common garden soil, or -sometimes laid on pieces of tin foil in the earth, the ground being -pressed down slightly, so as not to prevent the emission of any odor, -and yet they were always discovered by the worms that were placed -in the pots, and removed after varying periods of time. These facts -indicate that worms possess some power of smell, and that they discover -by this means odoriferous and much-coveted kinds of food. - -That all animals which feed on various substances possess the sense of -taste, is a wise presumption. This is certainly the case with worms. -Cabbage leaves are much liked by worms, and it would seem that they -are able to distinguish between the different varieties, but this may -perhaps be owing to differences in their texture. When leaves of the -cabbage, horse-radish and onion were given together, they manifestly -preferred the last to the others. Celery is preferred to the leaves of -the cabbage, lime-tree, ampelopsis and parsnip, and the leaves of the -wild cherry and carrots, especially the latter, to all the others. -That the worms have a preference for one taste over another, is still -further shown from what follows. Pieces of the leaves of cabbage, -turnip, horse-radish and onion have been fed to the worms, mingled with -the leaves of an Artemisia and of the culinary sage, thyme and mint, -differing in no material degree in texture from the foregoing four, yet -quite as strong in taste, but the latter were quite neglected excepting -those of the mint, which were slightly nibbled, but the others were all -attacked and had to be renewed. - -There is little to be noted about the mental qualities of worms. They -have been seen to be timid creatures. Their eagerness for certain -kinds of food manifestly shows that they must enjoy the pleasure of -eating. So strong is their sexual passion that they overcome for a time -their dread of light. They seem to have a trace of social feeling, for -they are not disturbed by crawling over each other’s bodies, and they -sometimes lie in contact. Although remarkably deficient in the several -sense-organs, yet this does not necessarily preclude intelligence, for -it has been shown that when their attention is engaged they neglect -impressions to which they would otherwise have attended, and attention, -as is well known, indicates the presence of a mind of some kind. A few -actions are performed instinctively, that is, all the individuals, -including the young, perform each action in nearly the same manner. -The various species of Perichæta eject their castings so as to -construct towers, and the burrows of the Common Earth-worm--_Lumbricus -terrestris_--are smoothly lined with fine earth and often with little -stones, and the mouth with leaves. One of their strongest instincts is -the plugging up of the mouths of their burrows with various objects, -the very young worms acting in a similar manner. But some degree of -intelligence is manifested, as will subsequently appear. - -Almost everything is eaten by worms. They swallow enormous quantities -of earth, from which they extract any digestible matter it may -contain. Large numbers of half-decayed leaves of all kinds, excepting -a few that are too tough and unpleasant to the taste, and likewise -petioles, peduncles, and decayed flowers. Fresh leaves are consumed -as well. Particles of sugar, licorice and starch, and bits of raw and -roasted meat, and preferably raw fat, are eaten when they come into -their possession, but the last article with a better relish than any -other substance given to them. They are cannibals to a certain extent, -and have been known to eat the dead bodies of their own companions. - -The digestive fluid of worms, according to León Frédéricq, is analogous -in nature to the pancreatic secretion of the higher animals, and this -conclusion agrees perfectly with the kinds of food which they consume. -Pancreatic juice emulsifies fat, dissolves fibrin, and worms greedily -devour fat and eat raw meat. It converts starch into grape-sugar with -wonderful rapidity, and the digestive fluid of worms acts upon the -starch of leaves. But worms live chiefly on half-decayed leaves, and -these would be useless to them unless they could digest the cellulose -forming the cell-walls, for all other nutritious substances, as is well -known, are almost completely withdrawn from leaves shortly before they -fall off. It has been ascertained that cellulose, though very little -or not at all attacked by the gastric juice of the higher animals, is -acted on by that from the pancreas, and so worms eat the leaves as much -for the cellulose as for the starch they contain. The half-decayed or -fresh leaves which are intended for food are dragged into the mouths -of their burrows to a depth of from one to three inches, and are then -moistened with a secreted fluid, which has been assumed to hasten their -decay, but which, from its alkaline nature, and from its acting both -on the starch-granules and on the protoplasmic contents of the cells, -is not of the nature of saliva, but a pancreatic secretion, and of -the same kind as is found in the intestines of worms. As the leaves -which are dragged into the burrows are often dry and shrivelled, it -is indispensable for the unarmed mouths of worms that they should -first be moistened and softened, their disintegration being thereby the -more readily effected. Fresh leaves, however soft and tender they may -be, are similarly treated, probably from habit. Thus the leaves are -partially digested before they are taken into the alimentary canal, an -instance of extra-stomachal digestion, whose nearest analogy is to be -found in such plants as Dionæa and Drosera, for in them animal matter -is digested and converted into peptone, not within a stomach, but on -the surfaces of the leaves. - -But no portion of the economy of worms has been more the subject of -speculation than the calciferous glands. About as many theories have -been advanced on their utility as there have been observers. Judging -from their size and from their rich supply of blood-vessels, they must -be of vast importance to these animals. They consist of three pairs, -which in the Common Earth-worm debouch into the alimentary canal in -front of the gizzard, but posteriorly to it, in some genera. The two -posterior pairs are formed by lamellæ, diverticula from the œsophagus, -which are coated with a pulpy cellular layer, with the outer cells -lying free in infinite numbers. If one of these glands is punctured -and squeezed, a quantity of white, pulpy matter exudes, consisting of -these free cells, which are minute bodies, varying in diameter from -two to six millimetres. They contain in their centres a small quantity -of excessively fine granular matter, that looks so like oil globules -that many scientists are deceived by its appearance. When treated with -acetic acid they quickly dissolve with effervescence. An addition of -oxalate of ammonia to the solution throws down a white precipitate, -showing that the cells contain carbonate of lime. The two anterior -glands differ a little in shape from the four posterior ones by being -more oval, and also conspicuously in generally containing several -small, or two or three larger, or a single very large concretion of -carbonate of lime, as much as one and one-half millimetres in diameter. -With respect to the function of the calciferous glands, it is likely -that they primarily serve as organs of excretion, and secondarily as -an aid to digestion. Worms consume many fallen leaves. It is known -that lime goes on accumulating in leaves until they drop off the -parent-plant, instead of being re-absorbed into the stem or roots, -like various other organic and inorganic substances, and worms would -therefore be liable to become charged with this earth, unless there -was some special apparatus for its excretion, and for this purpose the -calciferous glands are ably adapted. On the other hand, the carbonate -of lime, which is excreted by the glands, aids the digestive process -under ordinary circumstances. Leaves during their decay generate an -abundance of various kinds of acids, which have been grouped together -under the term of humus acids. These half-decayed leaves, which are -swallowed by worms in large quantities, would, therefore, after having -been moistened and triturated in the alimentary canal, be apt to -produce such acids, and in the case of several worms, whose alimentary -canals were examined, their contents were plainly shown by litmus -paper to be decidedly acid. This acidity cannot be attributed to the -nature of the digestive fluid, for pancreatic juice is alkaline, -and so also is the secretion which is poured out of the mouths of -worms for the preparation of the leaves for consumption. With worms -not only the contents of the intestines, but their ejected matter -or the castings are generally acid. The digestive fluid of worms -resembles in its action, as already stated, the pancreatic secretion -of the higher animals, and in these latter pancreatic digestion is -necessarily alkaline, and the action will not take place unless some -alkali be present; and the activity of an alkaline juice is arrested -by acidification, and hindered by neutralization. Therefore is seems -probable that innumerable calciferous cells, which are emptied from -the four posterior glands in the alimentary canal, serve to neutralize -more or less completely the acids generated there by the half-decayed -leaves. These cells, as has been seen, are instantly dissolved by a -small quantity of acetic acid, and as they do not always suffice to -render of no effect the contents of the upper part of the alimentary -canal, it is probable that the lime is aggregated into concretions, -in the anterior pair of glands, in order that some may be conveyed to -the posterior parts of the intestine, where these concretions would -be rolled about among the acid contents. The concretions found in the -intestines and in the castings often present a worn appearance, but -whether due to attrition or chemical corrosion it is impossible to -say. That they are formed for the sake of acting as mill stones, as -Claparède believed, and of thus assisting in the trituration of food, -is not at all likely, as this object is already attained by the stones -that are present in the gizzards and intestines. - -In dragging leaves into their burrows worms generally seize the thin -edge of a leaf with their mouths, between the projecting upper and -lower lip, the thick and strong pharynx at the same time being pushed -forwards within their bodies, so as to afford a _point de resistance_ -for the upper lip; but in the case of broad and flat objects the -pointed anterior extremity of the body, after being brought into -contact with an object of this kind, is drawn within the adjoining -rings, so that it becomes truncated and as thick as the rest of the -body. This part is then seen to swell a little, seemingly from the -pharynx being pushed a little forwards. By a slight withdrawal of -the pharynx, or by its expansion, a vacuum is produced beneath the -truncated, slimy end of the body whilst in contact with the object, -and by this means the two adhere firmly together. Worms can attach -themselves to an object in the same manner under the water. - -[Illustration: COMMON EARTH-WORMS. - -Out on a Foraging Excursion.] - -As worms have no teeth, and their mouths consist of very soft tissue, -it may be presumed that they consume by means of suction of the edges -and parenchyma of fresh leaves after they have been softened by the -digestive fluid. They cannot attack such strong leaves as those of -sea-kale or large and thick leaves of ivy. They not only seize leaves -and other objects for purposes of food, but for plugging up the mouths -of their burrows. Flower-peduncles, decayed twigs of trees, bits of -paper, feathers, tufts of wool and horse-hair are some of the many -things other than leaves that are dragged into their burrows for this -purpose. Many hundred leaves of the pine-tree have been found drawn by -their bases into burrows. Where fallen leaves are abundant, especially -ordinary dicotyledonous leaves, many more than can be used are -collected over the mouth of a burrow, so that a small pile of unused -leaves is left like a roof over those which have been partly dragged -in. A leaf in being dragged a little way into a cylindrical burrow -necessarily becomes much folded or crumpled, and when another is drawn -in, this is done exteriorly to the first, and so on with succeeding -leaves, till finally they all become closely folded and pressed -together. Sometimes the mouth of a burrow is enlarged, or a fresh one -is made close by, so that a larger number of leaves may be drawn in. -Generally the interstices between the drawn-in leaves are filled with -moist, viscid earth ejected from their bodies, thus rendering them -doubly secure. Hundreds of such plugged burrows may be seen during the -autumnal and early winter months. - -When leaves, petioles, sticks, etc., cannot be obtained for the mouths -of their burrows, heaps of stones, smooth, rounded pebbles, are -utilized for protection. When the stones are removed and the surface -of the ground is cleared for some inches round the burrow, the worms -may be seen with their tails fixed in their burrows dragging the -stones inward by the aid of their mouths, stones weighing as much as -two ounces often being found in the little heaps, which goes to show -how strong these apparently weak creatures are. Work of this kind -is usually performed during the night, although objects have been -occasionally known to be drawn into the burrows during the day. What -advantage worms derive from plugging up the mouths of their burrows, -or from piling stones over them, cannot be satisfactorily answered. -They do not act in this manner when they eject much earth from their -burrows, for then their castings serve to cover the mouth. Perhaps the -plugs serve to protect them from the attacks of scolopenders, their -most inveterate enemies, or to enable them to remain with safety with -their heads close to the mouths of their burrows, which they like so -well to do, but which, unless protected, costs many a fellow its life. -Besides, may not the plugs check the free ingress of the lowest stratum -of air, when chilled by radiation at night, from the surrounding ground -and herbage? The last view of the matter seems especially well taken, -because worms kept in pots where there is fire, having no cold air -with which to contend, plug up their burrows in a slovenly manner, and -because they often coat the upper part of their burrows with leaves, -apparently to prevent their bodies from coming into contact with the -cold, damp earth. But the plugging-up process may undoubtedly serve -for all these purposes. Whatever the motive may be, it seems that -worms much dislike leaving the mouths of their burrows open, yet, -nevertheless, they will reopen them at night, whether or not they are -able afterwards to close them. - -Considerable intelligence is shown by worms in their manner of plugging -up their burrows. If man had to plug up a cylindrical hole with such -objects as leaves, petioles or twigs, he would push them in by their -pointed ends, but if these were thin relatively to the size of the -hole, he would probably insert some by their broader ends. Intelligence -would certainly be his guide in such a case. But how worms would drag -leaves into their burrows, whether by their tips, bases, or middle -parts, has been a matter of interest to many. Darwin, who experimented -upon the subject, found it especially desirable to experiment with -plants not native to his country, for he conceived that although the -habit of dragging leaves into their burrows is undoubtedly instinctive -with worms, yet instinct could not teach them how to act in the case of -leaves about which their progenitors knew nothing. Did they act solely -through instinct, or an unvarying inherited impulse, they would draw -all kinds of leaves into their burrows in the same manner. Having no -such definite instinct, chance might be expected to determine whether -the tip, base, or middle might be seized. If the worm in each case -first tries many different methods, and follows that alone which proves -possible or the most easy, then both instinct and chance are ruled out -of the solution of the question. But to act in this manner, and to try -different methods, makes what in man would be called intelligent action. - -Three species of pine-leaves are mentioned by Darwin as being regularly -drawn into the mouths of worm-burrows on the gravel-walk in his garden. -These leaves consist of two needles, which are united to a common base, -and it is by this point that they are almost invariably drawn into -the burrows. As the sharply-pointed needles diverge somewhat, and -as several are drawn into the same burrow, each tuft forms a perfect -_chevaux-de-frise_. Many tufts were pulled up in the evening, but -by the ensuing morning fresh leaves had taken their places, and the -burrows again well protected. Impossible it would be to drag these -leaves to any depth into the burrows, except by their bases, as a -worm cannot seize hold of the two leaves at the same time, and if one -alone were seized by the apex, the other would be pressed against the -ground and resist the entry of the one that was seized. That the worms -should do their work well, it was very essential that they drag the -pine-leaves into their burrows by their bases, that is, where the two -needles are conjoined. But how they are guided in this work was at -first perplexing. The difficulty, however, was soon settled. With the -assistance of his son Francis, the elder Darwin set to work to observe -worms in confinement during several nights by the aid of a dim light, -while they dragged the leaves of the aforementioned kinds into their -burrows. They were seen to move the anterior extremities of their -bodies about the leaves, and on several occasions when they touched -the sharp end of the needle they suddenly withdrew as though they had -been pricked, but it is doubtful that they were hurt, for they are -indifferent to sharp objects, being known to swallow rose-thorns and -small splinters of glass. It may be doubted whether the sharp end of -the needle serves to tell them that is the wrong end to seize, for the -points of many were cut off for the length of an inch, and these leaves -were always drawn in by their bases and not by the cut-off ends. The -worms, it seemed, almost instantly perceived as soon as they had seized -a leaf in the proper manner. Many leaves were cemented together at the -top, or tied together by fine thread, and these in the majority of -instances were dragged in by their bases, which leads to the conclusion -that there must be something attractive to worms in the base of -pine-leaves, notwithstanding that few ordinary leaves are drawn in by -their base or footstalk. Leaves of other plants, and also the petioles -of some compound plants, as well as triangular bits of paper, dry and -damp, were experimented with, and the manner of seizing the objects and -bearing them into their burrows were as amusing as they were novel and -interesting. The leaves and stems used were such as the worms had not -been accustomed to in their respective haunts. - -When the several cases experimented on are considered, one can hardly -escape from the conclusion that some degree of intelligence is shown -by worms in plugging up their burrows. Each particular object is -seized in too uniform a manner, and from causes which we can generally -understand, for the result to be attributed to mere chance. That every -object has not been drawn in by its pointed end may be accounted for -by labor having been saved by some being carried in by their broader -ends. There is no doubt that worms are governed by instinct in plugging -up their burrows, and it might be expected that they would have been -taught in every particular instance how to act independently of -intelligence. It is very difficult to judge when intelligence comes -into play. The actions of animals, appearing due to intelligence, -may be performed through inherited habit without any intelligence, -although aboriginally acquired, or the habit may be acquired through -the preservation and inheritance of some other action, and in the -latter case the new habit will have been acquired independently of -intelligence throughout the entire course of its development. There is -no _à priori_ improbability in worms having acquired special instincts -through either of these two latter means. Nevertheless it is incredible -that instincts should have been developed in reference to objects, such -as the leaves and petioles of foreign plants, wholly unknown to the -progenitors of the worms which have acted in the manner just described. -Nor are their actions so unvarying or inevitable as are most true -instincts. - -As worms are not controlled by special instincts in each particular -case, though possessing a general instinct to plug up their burrows, -and as chance is excluded, the next most probable conclusion is that -they try in many ways to draw in objects and finally succeed in some -one way. It is surprising, however, that an animal so low in the scale -as a worm should have the capacity to act in this way, as many higher -animals have no such capacity, the instincts of the latter often being -followed in a senseless or purposeless manner. - -We can safely infer intelligence, as Mr. Romanes, who has specially -studied animals, says, only when we see an individual profiting by his -own experiences. That worms are able to judge either before or after -having drawn an object close to the mouths of their burrows how best -to drag it in, shows that they must have acquired some notion of its -general shape. This they probably acquire by touching it in many places -with the anterior extremity of their bodies, which serves them as a -tactile organ. Man, even when born blind and deaf, shows how perfect -the sense of touch may become, and if worms, which also come into being -in the same condition, have the power of acquiring some notion, however -rude, of the shape of an object and their burrows, they deserve, it -must seem to every sensible mind, to be called intelligent creatures, -for they act in such a case in nearly the same manner as a man would -under similar circumstances. That worms, which stand so low in the -scale of organization, should possess some degree of intelligence, -will doubtless strike everyone as very improbable. It may be doubted, -however, whether we know enough about the nervous system of the lower -animals to justify our natural distrust of such a conclusion. With -regard to the small size of the cerebral ganglia, we would do well -to remember what a mass of inherited knowledge, with some power of -adapting means to an end, is crowded into the minute brain of a worker -ant. - -Two ways are adopted by worms in excavating their burrows. Either the -earth is pushed away on all sides or it is swallowed by the animal. -In the former case the worm inserts the stretched-out and attenuated -anterior extremity of its body into any little crevice or hole, and the -pharynx is pushed forward into this part, which consequently swells -and pushes away the earth on all sides, the anterior extremity thus -acting as a wedge. When placed in loose mould a worm will bury itself -in between two and three minutes, but in earth that is moderately -pressed down it often requires as many as fifteen minutes for its -disappearance. But whenever a worm burrows to a depth of several feet -in undisturbed compact ground, it must form its passage by swallowing -the earth, for it is impossible that the ground could yield on all -sides to the pressure of the pharynx when pushed forward within the -worm’s body. Great depths are reached only during continued dry weather -and severe cold, the burrows sometimes attaining to a depth of from -seven to eight feet. The burrows run down perpendicularly, or, more -commonly, obliquely, and are sometimes said to branch. Generally, or -invariably as I think, they are lined with fine, dark-colored earth -voided by the worm, so that at first they must be made a little wider -than their ultimate diameter. Little globular pellets of voided earth, -still soft and viscid, often dot the walls of fresh burrows, and these -are spread out on all sides by the worm as it travels up or down its -burrow, the lining thus formed becoming very compact and smooth when -nearly dry and closely fitting the worm’s body. Excellent points of -support are thus afforded for the minute reflexed bristles which -project in rows on all sides from the body, thus rendering the burrow -well adapted for the rapid movement of the animal. The lining appears -also to strengthen the walls, and perhaps saves the worm’s body from -being scratched, which would assuredly be the case when the burrows, -as is occasionally observed, pass through a layer of sifted coal -cinders. The burrows are thus seen to be not mere excavations, but -may be compared with tunnels lined with cement. Those which run far -down into the ground generally, or at least frequently, terminate in -little chambers, where one or several worms pass the winter rolled up -into a ball. Small pebbles and seeds as large as grains of mustard are -carried down from the surface by being swallowed or within the mouths -of worms, as well as bits of glass and tile, whose only use in their -winter-quarters seems to be the prevention of their closely coiled-up -bodies from coming into contiguity with the surrounding cold soil, for -such contact would perhaps interfere with their respiration, which is -effected by the skin alone. - -After swallowing earth, whether for making its burrow or for food, the -earth-worm soon comes to the surface to empty its body. The rejected -matter is thoroughly mixed with the intestinal secretions, and is thus -rendered viscid. After becoming dried, it sets hard. When in a very -liquid state the earth is thrown out in little spurts, and when not so -liquid by a slow peristaltic movement of the intestine. It is not cast -indifferently on any side, but first on one and then on another, the -tail being used almost like a trowel. The little heap being formed the -worm seemingly avoids, for the sake of safety, the use of its tail, -the earthy matter being forced up through the previously deposited -soft mass. The mouth of the same burrow is used for this purpose for a -considerable time. When a worm comes to the surface to eject earth, the -tail protrudes, but when it collects leaves its head must protrude, and -thus worms must have the power of performing the difficult feat, as it -seems to us, of turning round in their closely-fitting burrows. Worms -do not always eject their castings upon the surface of the ground, -for when burrowing in newly turned-up earth, or between the stems of -banked-up plants, they deposit their castings in such places, and even -hollows beneath large stems lying on the surface of the ground are -filled up with their ejections. Old burrows collapse in time. The fine -earth voided by worms, if spread out uniformly, would form in many -places a layer of one-fifth of an inch in thickness. But this large -amount is not deposited within the old unused burrows. If the burrows -did not collapse, the whole ground would be first thickly riddled with -holes to the depth of ten inches or more, which in fifty years would -grow into a hollow, unsupported place ten inches deep. - -Hardly any animal is more universally distributed than worms. The -earth-worm is found in all parts of the world, and some of the genera -have an enormous range. They inhabit the most isolated islands, -abounding in Iceland, and also being known to exist in the West Indies, -St. Helena, Madagascar, New Caledonia and Tahiti. Worms from Kergulen -Land in the Antarctic regions have been described by Ray Lankester, -and Darwin has reported them as being found in the Falkland Islands. -How they reach such isolated islands is quite unknown. They are easily -killed by salt water, and it does not seem likely that young worms or -their egg-capsules could be carried in earth adhering to the feet or -beaks of land-birds, especially to Kergulen Land, for it is not now -inhabited by any terrestrial bird. - -We have seen that worms are found in nearly every part of the globe, -that they are very numerous, as many as 348,480 having been found in an -acre of rich ground in New Zealand, and that by the peculiar economy -of their nature they are fitted to accomplish a great deal of good -in the earth. They have played a more important part in the history -of the world than most persons would at first suppose. In many parts -of England, according to Darwin, a weight of more than ten tons of -dry earth annually passes through their bodies and is brought to the -surface in each acre of land, so that the entire superficial bed of -vegetable mould passes through their bodies in the course of every few -years; and in most parts of the forests and pasture-lands of Southern -Brazil, where several species of earth-worms abound, the whole soil to -a depth of a quarter of a metre looks as though it had passed through -the intestines of worms, even where scarcely any castings are to be -observed upon the surface. The upper crust is continually being eaten -and ejected by them, thus aiding the fertility of the soil, as well as -conveying water and air to the interior by the myriads of burrows which -they drill. The vast quantities of leaves that they drag into their -holes tend also to enrich the ground. Nor does their good end here. -They cover up seeds, undermine rocks, burying them up, and to their -labors is due the preservation of many ruins and ancient works of art. -Numerous old-time Roman villas have been discovered beneath the ground -in England, whose entombments were undoubtedly caused by the worms that -undermined them and deposited their castings upon the floors, till -finally, aided by other causes, they disappeared from sight. - -When a wide, turf-covered expanse of earth is beheld, we would do well -to remember that its smoothness, upon which so much of its beauty -depends, is largely due to all the inequalities having been slowly -levelled by worms. That all the surface-mould of any such expanse has -passed, and will again pass, every few years through the bodies of -worms is a marvellous reflection, and one which should not be lightly -dismissed from the mind. The most ancient, as well as one of the most -valuable of man’s inventions, is the plough. But long before man -existed the land was in fact regularly ploughed, and still continues -to be ploughed, by earth-worms. No other animal has played such a part -in history as have these lowly-organized creatures. True it is that -corals, which are still lower in the scale of animals, have performed -more conspicuous work in the innumerable reefs and islands they have -built in the great oceans, but their work is confined to the tropical -zones, while that of the earth-worm is well-nigh universal. Verily it -is by the little things in life that the Creator has erected the most -stupendous monuments to show forth His infinite power and wisdom. - - - - -FIDDLER- AND HERMIT-CRABS. - - -Among our first acquaintances of the sea-shore are sure to be a number -of merry little sprites which do not seem to have yet mastered the -lesson of walking straight ahead. Their movements will be seen to be -in a direction at right angles to that towards which the head points. -It is a very interesting sight to watch these apparently one-sided -creatures hurrying off in their lateral progression towards their -burrows in the sand or mud, or in quest of food. Pass them, and you -will be surprised to see how quickly some of them will reverse their -motion, seemingly without so much as pausing to glance at their -pursuer, their machinery appearing to have given out at one end, thus -compelling them to reverse and travel back over their old courses. - -These little Fiddler- or Calling-crabs, as they are termed, are the -most pronounced offenders against the commonly accepted rule of proper -walking. Scattered all over the salt marshes and mud-flats, at about -high-water mark, may be noted their burrows, which are about as large -as a thrust made by an umbrella point, and from which can be frequently -seen the little animal peeping forth, preparatory to making a sally. -At another part of the flat, where the noise of your footsteps has not -given signals of danger, hundreds of crabblings are busy with their -out-door occupations. Draw near to them, and away they scamper to their -dwellings, males and females intermingled promiscuously, the former -recognizable by the undue development of one of the claws, which is -carried transversely in front of the head. When the animal is provoked, -this claw is brandished in a somewhat menacing manner, which has been -likened by some to the pulling of a violin bow, and by others to the -action of beckoning or calling, and hence the names which have been -applied to these eccentric creatures. - -Have you a desire for a more intimate knowledge of the animal, take him -up by the big claw, and you can now examine him without the least fear -of incurring the proofs of his displeasure. Two bead-like, compound -eyes, supported on long stalks, which can be readily withdrawn into the -protecting shield of the carapace, will be observed. From the manner -of this support, which allows of vision in almost every direction, the -name of stalk-eyed crustaceans has been given to the group in which -this structure is found. The two pairs of feelers, which you see in -front of the eyes, are known as antennæ and antennules. They are of -peculiar interest, for, aside from acting as feelers, they subserve -the functions of smelling and hearing, the auditory apparatus being -lodged in the base of the smaller pair. There are ten feet, and this -is a character of importance, as it is a feature distinctive of the -ten-footed, or decapod, crustaceans. At first sight it appears that the -animal is devoid of a tail, but if you turn him over upon his back you -will find a very short one tucked safely under the body. A comparison -of our study of this crab with that of the lobster or cray-fish will -show that the tail, or, more properly, the abdomen, is stretched out -beyond the body proper, and that the elongation is in proportion to the -length of the animal. Two distinct groups of ten-legged, stalk-eyed -crustaceans are thus recognized, namely: the short-tailed forms, or -crabs, and the opposite, or long-tailed forms, to which the lobster and -shrimp belong, the hermit-crabs constituting an intermediate type. - -Two species of the Fiddler, considerably resembling each other in -color and ornamentation, are to be found upon our Atlantic Coast. The -more common form, _Gelasimus vocator_, has a smooth, shining carapace, -while that of _Gelasimus minax_ is finely granulated and in part -tuberculated, the back of both appearing impressed with a figure very -similar to the letter H. The latter, which appears to be a vegetable -feeder, is the larger, its burrows not infrequently measuring one and a -half inches in diameter. Estuarine regions, in close proximity to fresh -water, rather than the tidal flats, are its habitat, and, in truth, it -seems to be able to get along for weeks, and even months, without any -absolute need of salt water. - -[Illustration: FIDDLER-CRABS. - -Two Males Fighting for a Female.] - -In the excavation of their homes the Fiddlers throw up the pellets of -moist earth by means of their anterior walking legs, depositing their -burden usually at some little distance from the mouth of the burrow. -As winter approaches, the domiciliary apertures are closed up, and the -famine of winter is spent in a state of torpidity. - -With the advent of spring they come forth from their brumal retreats, -and soon concern themselves with the duties incident to the propagation -of their kind. Two males are often observed contending in the fiercest -manner for the possession of a female. They strike with the formidable -claw most powerful blows, and I have often seen an opponent so -completely claw-locked as to be unutterly unable to make any determined -resistance. These contests last a long while, and finally conclude -with the complete vanquishment of one or the other of the fighting -parties, one or both sustaining at times some severe injury as the loss -of an eye-peduncle or the joint of a limb. All the while the battle -is waging, the female is a silent, passive spectator, and generally -allies herself with the successful competitor for her affections. Even -during the summer season, when the cares of brood-raising no longer -command and enslave the attention of the female, these combats are -still indulged in by the males, growing out of, as it would seem, the -lingering smarts of old animosities festering in the memory. While -these carcinological lords of the sea-side are eminently fitted for -the sparring business, the whole physiognomy of their smaller, weaker -partners bespeaks a life in which broils can have no part, a life -devoted to peaceful and domestic pursuits. - -Differing widely in structure and habits from the Calling-crabs, -and affecting watery situations near the shore, are to be found the -Hermit-crabs. These sprightly little animals, which are usually of -small size, and have truly habits of their own, that stamp them at -once as being original and distinctive, are a source of never-failing -delight to the student of nature. They derive their name, as is well -known, from the seclusion into which they cast themselves as the -inhabitants of the shells of other animals, but it is probably not -generally known, however, that the rights of tenantry are oftentimes -exercised in the most arbitrary manner. Not always satisfied with -a dead shell, the Hermit-crab has been seen to raid upon a living -possessor and attempt to drag him from his home, in which operation the -assailant is often assisted by a number of his fellows, each bearing -with him his castle as defensive armor. True, the attack is probably -made in many instances for the purpose of getting possession of the -enemy as well as his belongings, and, however this may be, forcible -possession is by them considered no misdemeanor. - -The body of the Hermit-crab, in the greater number of species, is -unprovided with a carapace, and, being soft and liable to injury, -the animal is compelled to seek shelter usually in a snail-shell, -winding himself about the coils, to the inner extremity of which he -attaches himself by his modified posterior feet. So securely is he -now intrenched that it is only with difficulty he can be withdrawn, -retracting himself as he does further and further within cover of the -shell. A sudden fracture of the apex of the shell, under which appears -to be the most delicate part of the animal’s body, will generally -effect a speedy dislodgment, the frightened Crab dropping from the -aperture. - -With his progressive development in size the Hermit requires frequent -changes of abode. His methods in securing a new habitation are among -the most interesting of his life. He is very circumspect in his -movements, and will make several reconnoissances before he is fully -satisfied with the conditions of his prospective home, retiring after -each visit to the old shell. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -CRAB WAITING FOR FOOD UNDER A ROCK. - -From a photograph taken through water.] - -Like many bipeds, he has his first of May, and so he goes -house-hunting. He finds a shell. Will it do? He examines it within, -feelingly if not courteously, to see whether it is to let. Satisfied on -this point, he turns it over, then turns it round, to know if it will -suit, the weight of the house being quite an item in the reckoning to -one who is to carry it upon his back. All things being right, his mind -is made up to move, and quickly, too, at that, lest he miss his chance -through some more active fellow house-hunter who is on the alert. Out -comes the body from the old house, and pop it goes into the new. The -resolution to move, the surrender of the old house, and the occupancy -of the new, were all effected within a fraction of a second of time. - -[Illustration: WARTY HERMIT-CRABS. - -One at Home, the Other House-Hunting.] - -But the matter does not always go on pleasantly. Two house-hunters may -find the same tenement. Should they both desire it, then comes the tug -of war. Dwell together they neither can nor will. Recourse is had to -battle, in which the stronger proves his claim right by the rule of -might. In these encounters terrible mutilations quite often occur. - -As an offset to all this bad feeling and bloodshed, it is a sad sight -to see the little Hermit when his time comes to die. However droll -his career may have been, he is now very grave, for he knows he must -part with life and all its joys and pleasures. Who can explain the -strange fact? The poor little fellow comes out of his house to die. -Yes, to die. To us humans home is the only fit place to die in, but -to Eupagurus it has no attractions at this solemn time. Poor fellow! -With a sad look and a melancholy movement he quits of his own will the -house for which he fought so well. Those feelers that often stood out -so provokingly, and that were quite as often poked into everybody’s -business, now lie prone and harmless; the eyes have lost their -pertness, and dead, stone dead, the houseless Hermit lies upon that -moss-covered rock. - -There are two species of Hermit-crab occurring on our coast, which -are readily distinguishable from each other by their size and the -difference in the shape of the big claw. _Eupagurus pollicaris_, the -Warty Hermit, is the larger species. He inhabits the shells of the big -Naticas and the Fulgurs, and can be easily recognized by his coarse, -broad claws, which close up in great part the aperture of the shell -which he occupies. In the more common form, _Eupagurus longicarpus_, -which seldom attains a length exceeding an inch, the legs are all much -elongated, giving the animal a very slender appearance. - - - - -FUNNEL-WEB BUILDER. - - -Simple nests and tubes are all the majority of spiders construct for -their homes. The larger and better known webs for catching insects are -made by comparatively few species. He who is astir in the grass-fields -on damp summer mornings, will everywhere see innumerous flat webs, from -an inch or two to a foot in diameter, which weather-wise folks consider -prognostic of a fair day. These webs may always be found upon the grass -at the proper season, but only become visible from a distance when -the dew is upon them, making the earth appear as covered by an almost -continuous carpet of silk. - -By far the greater number of these nests is of the form which is termed -funnel-webs, which consist of a concave sheet of silk, constituted of -strong threads, crossed by finer ones, which the author spins with the -long hind-spinnerets, swinging them from side to side, and laying down -a band of threads at each stroke, the many hundred threads extending in -all directions to the supporting spears of grass. The web is so close -and tight that the footsteps of the spider can be distinctly heard by -the attentive, listening ear as she runs hither and thither over its -scarcely bending surface. At one side of the web is a tube, leading -down among the grass-stems, which serves as a hiding-place for the -owner of the web. Here, at the top, and just out of sight, the spider -ordinarily stands, waiting for something to light upon the web, when -she eagerly rushes out, seizing the prey unluckily caught and carrying -it into her tube to eat. If too formidable an insect comes upon the -web, she turns herself round, beating a precipitate retreat out of the -lower end of her funnel and soon is lost beneath the mesh of enveloping -and interlacing grasses. - -Where favorably located, these webs remain through the entire season, -and are enlarged, as the spider grows, by additions on the outer edges, -and are supported by threads running up into the neighboring plants. -Sometimes the webs are built in close proximity to a stone partially -imbedded in the earth, the bottom of the funnel opening slightly -underneath the stone, which secures to the spider a convenient harbor -in case of threatening danger. - -Agalenidæ, as our funnel-web weavers are called, are long-legged, brown -spiders, in which the head part of the cephalo-thorax is higher than -the thoracic part, and distinctly separated from it by grooves or marks -at the sides. The eyes are usually in two rows, but in Agalena the -middle eyes of both rows are much higher than the others. The feet have -three claws, and the posterior pairs of spinnerets are two-jointed and -usually longer than the others. _Agalena nævia_, the technical name of -our Common Grass Spider, abounds in all parts of the United States, but -its very commonness is the principal reason why it is so little known -except by the trained naturalist, its very familiarity leading the -average man and woman to look upon it with contempt. - -[Illustration: AGALENA AND HER FUNNEL-WEB. - -House-Fly, Caught in the Toils, Becomes a Victim.] - -Persons unfamiliar with spiders find it difficult to distinguish the -young from the old, and male from female. This is caused, in part, by -the great differences between different ages and sexes of the same -spider, on account of which they are supposed to belong to distinct -species. The adult males and females, however, are easily distinguished -from each other, and from the young, by the complete development of -organs peculiar to each sex, the palpal organs on the ends of the palpi -in the males, and the epigynum, a hard swollen place just in front -of the opening of the ovaries in the females. Usually the males are -smaller than their partners, and have, in proportion to their size, -smaller abdomens and longer legs. They are generally darker colored, -especially on the head and front part of the body, and markings which -are distinct in the female coalesce and become darker in the male. In -most species these differences are not very great, but in some, Argiope -and Nephila for examples, where the males are about one-tenth as large -as the females, one would hardly suppose, without other evidence, that -the males and females had any relationship to each other. The palpal -organs and the epigynum are sexual characters which do not attain their -functional value until after the last moult has been effected. - -Spiders are naturally very selfish creatures. Their chief concern in -life seems to be the gratification of their desires for food. They are -eminently unsocial, the sexes preferring to live solitary lives. It is -only when actuated by amatory influences that the females will tolerate -their weaker lords, and in some instances it is only by stratagem -and agility that the latter are able to accomplish the fulfilment of -the law of their being, the females by their ugly, vicious tempers -resisting to the utmost. In the case of Agalena the male is the -stronger of the two. He, at the proper time, when the reproductive -cells are matured, takes the female in his powerful mandibles, lays -her gently on one side, and inserts one of his palpi, whose little -sacs had previously been filled with the fecundating discharge, into -the epigynum underneath. After a time, necessarily brief, he rises on -tiptoe, turns her around and over, so that she comfortably lies on the -other side, her head being in the opposite direction, and inserts the -other palpus. All through the operation the female lies as though she -was dead. The ends of nature being served, the sexes separate, the male -returning to the solitary life he previously led, while the female -busies herself in providing for the duties of maternity. - -The eggs becoming mature, the latter proceeds to make a little web -and lays them in it, practising the utmost care. She now covers them -over with silk, which she weaves into a cocoon, where the young remain -some time after they are hatched. Seldom is the laying seen, for it -generally happens in the night-time, or in retired places. Often, in -confinement, the spider refuses to lay at all. An egg of a spider, like -that of any other animal, is a cell which separates from the body of -the female, and subsequently unites with one or more cells that have -separated from the body of the male. This process of union, termed -fertilization, doubtless takes place when the eggs have attained their -full size and are about to be laid. After being laid and hardened it is -a very easy matter to watch their development. All that is necessary -to be done is to cover the egg to be examined with oil, alcohol or any -liquid that will wet it, for this tends to make the shell transparent. -Eggs laid in summer are ready to hatch in a fortnight, while those -laid in autumn develop slowly all through the winter. A day or two are -occupied in hatching. When the time has arrived the shell, or more -properly the skin, cracks along the lines between the legs, and comes -off in rags, and the spider slowly stretches itself and creeps about. -Pale and soft it appears, and devoid of hairs or spines, but its feet -are armed with small claws. In two or three days it gets rid of another -skin, and begins to assume a spider-like appearance, the eyes becoming -dark-colored, the thoracic marks growing more distinct, and a dark -stripe appearing across the edge of each segment of the abdomen. The -hairs are now long, but few in number, and arranged in rows across the -abdomen and along the middle of the thorax. Before the next moult they -usually forsake the cocoon, and live together for a short time in a web -spun in common. Where larger broods of young spiders live together, -they soon show cannibal-like qualities, and if kept in confinement one -or two out of a cocoon-full may be raised without recourse to any other -food. - -As spiders grow larger, they must moult from time to time. This is an -interesting process. The spider hangs herself by a thread from the -spinnerets to the centre of the web. In a short time the skin cracks -around the thorax, just over the first joints of the legs, and the -top part falls forward, being held only at the front edge. The skin -of the abdomen now breaks irregularly along the sides and back, and -shrinks together in a bunch, leaving the spider suspended only by a -short thread from the spinnerets, her legs still being trammelled by -the old skin. Fifteen minutes of violent exertion releases her from the -encumbrance, when she drops down, hanging by her spinnerets like a wet -rag. She can do nothing in this condition, not even draw her legs away -from an approaching hand. In ten or twelve minutes the legs show signs -of strengthening, and she is able to draw them gradually towards her. A -few up-and-down movements, and she manages to get into the web again. - -That which, more than anything else, discriminates spiders from other -animals is their habit of spinning webs. Some of the mites spin -irregular threads upon plants, or cocoons for their eggs, and many -insects cocoons in which to undergo their changes from larva to imago, -but in the spiders the spinning-organs are much more complicated, and -used for a greater variety of purposes, for making egg-cocoons, silk -linings to their nests, and nets for catching insects. The spider’s -thread differs from that of insects, in being constituted of a great -number of finer threads laid together, while soft enough to coalesce -into one. Each spinneret is provided with a number of little tubes, -which convey the viscid liquid that forms the thread from glands in the -spider’s body. In Agalena the two hinder spinnerets are long, and have -spinning-tubes along the under side of the last joint. - -When about to produce a thread the spider presses the spinnerets -against some object and forces out from each tube enough of the -secretion to adhere to it, when the spinnerets are moved away, drawing -the viscid liquid out, which hardens at once into threads for each -tube. A band of threads is formed when the spinnerets are kept apart, -but when closed together the fine threads unite into one or more large -ones. Commonly the spinning is aided by the hinder feet, which guide -the thread, keeping it clear of surrounding objects, and even pulling -it from the spinnerets. - -Spiders are best known and hated as animals that bite. Their -biting-apparatus, the mandibles, are located in front of the head. -Partly in the basal joints of these organs and partly in the head, the -poison-glands are seated, from which is discharged through a tube the -venom, which makes spiders so much to be feared. This tube opens at the -point of the claw of the mandible. When the apparatus is not in use -the claws are closed up against the parts between the rows of teeth; -but when the jaws are opened to bite the claws are turned outward, so -that their points can be made to penetrate anything that comes between -the jaws. The ordinary function of the mandibles is the killing and -crushing of insects, so that the soft parts can be eaten by the spider, -and in this preparation they are substantially aided by the maxillæ. -Spiders will sometimes chew an insect for hours, until it becomes a -mere ball of skin, only swallowing such bits as may happen to be sucked -in with the blood. Let alone and unmolested, they bite nothing except -insects that are useful for food. But when attacked and cornered, -all species open their jaws and bite if they can, their ability to -do so depending upon their size and the strength of their jaws. -Notwithstanding the large number of pimples and stings ascribed to -spiders, undoubted cases of their biting the human skin are exceedingly -rare, and the stories of death, insanity and lameness from spider-bites -are probably all untrue. Many experiments have been made to test the -effect of the bites of spiders on animals. Insects succumb most readily -to their bites, some sooner than others, but birds, except when bitten -by the larger Mygale, recover after the lapse of a few hours. The -effect upon man, even when the bite is deep enough to draw blood, is -like the pricks of a needle, attended by little or no inflammation or -pain. Even in cases where death among insects and birds ensues it is -claimed by the authorities, men as eminent as Blackwall, Moggridge and -Dufour, that the secretion from spiders’ jaws is not poisonous, but -that the animals die, when bitten, from loss of blood and mechanical -injury. - -Such is the prejudice against the spider, that its presence, no matter -where found, whether in the open field or in a corner of the house, -is an inducement for its inveterate enemy, man, to sweep it to the -ground or floor and crush its frail life out with one blow of the foot. -Few know, or care to know, it would seem, the good it does for man. -He owes to it, in a large measure, the protection of his crops, and -no little of the comfort he enjoys in life. Spiders are carnivorous -creatures, and destroy vast number of insects, many of which are man’s -worst enemies. They merit, and deservingly, too, his kindness and -protection for the benefits they confer. - -Tarantulas have been supposed to produce epilepsy by their bites, -which could only be relieved by music of certain kinds. Such stories, -and they have been widely circulated and believed, are the veriest -nonsense, for tarantula-bites produce no such effects nowadays. These -spiders, which live in holes in sand, out of which they reach after -passing insects, are no more savage in their habits than other spiders, -for Dufour, a celebrated French naturalist, once kept one that soon -learned to take flies from his fingers without manifesting the least -disposition to bite. Different species quickly learn, when treated -with kindness, to regard man as their friend. I have seen Agalena take -food from the hand out of a pair of forceps, or water from a brush, -and even to reach on tiptoe after it from the mouth of a bottle placed -for her accommodation. Though naturally timid and shy, and prone -to flee to her funnel on man’s approach, yet she has been known to -permit the most unexpected familiarities without fear or resentment. -Many a female has taken from my hand the proffered fly, and submitted -to the gentle caresses of my finger down the back and abdomen with -the most pleasurable satisfaction. They have come at the sound of my -voice, dancing upon their sheeted web like one gone mad, so perfectly -carried away with delight. An interesting experience of last summer -during a brief stay in the country seems apropos at this time. While -sauntering carelessly along a forest-road I came unexpectedly upon a -rustic bridge, with a railing on one side, which overspanned a small -water-course. Leaning for rest and support against the railing, soon -my attention was arrested by a huge female spider, which I recognized -as _Epeira domiciliorum_. She was evidently in quest of something, -as I was led to suspect from her seemingly thoughtful and deliberate -movements. I watched her closely and criticisingly for a long while, -and in one of her contemplative moods, when she stood perfectly -motionless and fixed as it were to the railing, I reached out my -finger rather impulsively and began stroking her along the abdomen, -a familiarity which she did not resent, and which seemed to give her -the most intense delight. When the caressing had ceased, she would -turn round and confront her newly-made acquaintance, but the lifting -of the finger was always the signal for her to assume an attitude of -the most perfect quiescence. That she enjoyed these little attentions -there cannot be a shadow of doubt, or actions are no use in the -interpretation of feeling. Had they been painful, she would have sought -relief in flight, or in the manifestation of an untoward disposition -towards her unintentional persecutor. - - - - -BOOK-LOVERS. - - -Living in chinks and crannies of ranges in our homes, and occasionally -in bookcases and closets where glutinous and sugary matters abound, -but which has probably not been met with elsewhere, is a strange but -beautiful little creature which, as far as can be determined, goes -through the brief round of its existence without a name to distinguish -it from its fellows. - -Few entomologists have given any special attention to its family -relationships. The possession of certain bristle-like appendages which -terminate the abdomen, and which are no doubt comparable with the -abdominal legs of the Myriopods, or Thousand Legs, classes it with the -Bristle-tails, or Lepismas. In general form, a likeness to the larva -of Perla, a net-veined neuropterous insect, is manifest, or to the -narrow-bodied species of Blattariæ, or Cockroaches, when divested of -wings. - -_Lepisma saccharina_, of Europe, which is indistinguishable from our -ordinary American form, is far from uncommon in old, damp houses. Its -structure is less complicated than the heat-loving species to which I -have alluded, and there are likewise differences of habits which show -themselves to the close investigator of natural phenomena. - -Not unlike the cockroaches, which our little denizen of the hearth -somewhat vaguely resembles in form, it affects hot, dry localities, and -is always astir at nights in quest of its fare, for it disdains the -light of the day and the consequent publicity of its deeds of shame and -plunder. - -Many a housewife in the discharge of duty has unearthed, so to speak, -the miscreant from its hidden retreat, and sought by foot or hand to -crush the life that dares obtrude its uncleanly presence in her larder, -but the cunning, swift-footed Lepisma darts off, like a streak of -light, to some near-by crack or breach, where it manages to hide from -threatening danger. The bodies of these nimble, silent-moving creatures -being coated in a suit of shining mail, which the arrangement of the -scales so very much resembles, they have a weird and ghostly look. -This appearance, and the swiftness of their movement, which the eye -can hardly trace, have led the vivid mind of man, in country town and -village, to dub them “silver witches.” - -So fleet of foot are they, and so like a wave of blurred light they -cross the vision, that it is vain to try to figure what they are in -shape and look. In death they yield their all of earth to prying -science. Their body’s form is narrow, flattened; their legs in pairs of -threes, each of six joints consisting, the basal joints broad, flat, -triangular, the tarsal large, in number two, and armed at end with pair -of claws incurved. The three thoracic segments are very like in size, -and eight abdominals, of similar length and width. So weak it seems -the rather long abdomen is, that two pairs or six of bristles, simple, -unjointed, and freely movable, serve as support, and also, as in other -groups of insects, as organs locomotive. - -The mode of antenna-insertion--and the same prevails in the entire -family--is much like that of the Myriopods, the front of the head -being flattened and concealing, as in the Centipedes, the base of the -antennæ. Indeed, the head of any of the Bristle-tails, as seen from -above, bears a general resemblance in some of its features to that of -the Centipede and its allies, and so, in a less degree, does the head -of the larvæ of certain beetles and neuropters. The eyes are compound, -the individual facets constituting a sort of heap. The mouth-parts are -readily compared with those of the larva of Perla, the rather large, -stout mandibles being hid at their tips by the upper lip, which moves -freely up and down when the creature opens its mouth. In length the -mandible is three times its breadth, and furnished with three sharp -teeth on the outer edge, and with a broad cutting margin within, -and still further inwards with a number of straggling small spines. -The lower lip is broad and stout, with a distinct medium suture, -which indicates a former separation in embryonic life into a pair of -appendages. Its palpi are three-jointed, the joints being broad, and -directed backwards in life, and not forwards, as in the higher insecta. - -[Illustration: LEPISMAS AT WORK. - -How Books are Destroyed.] - -Perhaps not more than a half-dozen species of Lepisma are known to -exist in this country. Our commonest form is very abundant in the -Middle States under stones and leaves in forests, and northward in -damp houses, where it has much of the habits of the cockroach, eating -clothes, tapestry, silken trimmings of furniture, and doing great -mischief to libraries by devouring the paste and mutilating the leaves -and covers of books. Our heat-loving form, which is apparently allied -to the _Lepisma thermophila_ of Europe, and which may be an imported -species, is quite as destructive as its nearest of kin _Lepisma -saccharina_. It does not confine its ravages to closets and pantries, -and feed upon sugar and cake and pastry, but has latterly taken to -bookcases, where it leads an easy, comfortable life, without fear of -molestation. - -So delicately constructed are the Lepismas, and so seemingly feeble -the breath of life which animates their frail houses of clay, that -nature has endowed them with qualities of mind and body which eminently -fit them for the part they have to play in the world. She has made -them lovers of darkness rather than light, endowed them with keenness -of vision and hearing truly wonderful, and given them a celerity of -movement which enables them to outstrip in speed the fleetest of their -insect-enemies, and even to baffle the well-directed efforts of man -for their destruction. The silver-coated armor with which they are -invested is so glossy and smooth that they can slip into a crevice in -the wall or floor with the utmost ease and facility. From their actions -it would seem that they were always on the alert, for when peril is -imminent they do not run aimlessly about for a place of security, but -know just where to find it with the least possible expenditure of time -and physical strength. Every nook and cranny of their appropriated -domain is as well known to these very humble of God’s creatures as some -forest-tract of country to one skilled in wood-craft. Never have I -studied the behavior of Lepisma that I have not been deeply impressed -with the intelligence of its actions. There have always been displayed -a purpose and an aim, which showed as plainly as could be that no blind -instinct was the cause of a conduct so rational and human-like. - - - - -YOU-EE-UP. - - -Hardly a person living in a sandy country district can be found who -has not seen or heard of the queer little insect called You-ee-up, a -name which the books do not give, and of which writers on entomological -subjects seem to be ignorant. The learned call him Myrmeleon, or -Ant-lion, and very appropriately too, because, like the great king of -beasts, he never attacks his prey in the open field, but by stratagem -while lying in wait in some hidden retreat or secret covert. - -Should you chance, on a warm summer day, where sunny slopes abound on -the outskirts of a woods, or by the side of a frequented path or road, -look carefully about and soon will you descry a small funnel-like -opening, scarce two inches in depth and in width, upon a bare patch of -sand in the midst of an ocean of verdure. This little cavity is the -intentional work of the larva of the Ant-lion. A very close scrutiny -will show, by the presence of a pair of fierce jaws, the Ant-lion at -home. - -Would you know the ingenious builder? Lift him out tenderly from his -burrow of sand, and when you have placed him upon the palm of your wide -open hand, note with the most careful exactness the peculiar make-up of -his structure, so that in the future you may have little difficulty in -recognizing him should you again meet. - -His short, flat head, armed with powerful mandibles, heavy-set chest, -and large, soft, fleshy abdomen, amply protected on the sides with -stiff, bristly hairs, added to his compact, robust form, the forward -projection of his front and middle legs, and the backward prolongation -of the stronger and less movable hind ones, which eminently adapts -them to a backward manner of walking, are characters which so deeply -impress, that we cannot fail to call up, when occasion demands, the -possessor of so wonderful a mechanism. - -[Illustration: YOU-EE-UP IN HIS DEN. - -As He Appears in Youth and Old Age.] - -Now that you have become familiar with the odd creature in form and in -mien, set him once more upon his proud realm of sand, and seat yourself -on the bank close by to watch and enjoy his curious behavior. In a -minute or two his fears will have subsided, and he in control again of -his accustomed indifference. See, he moves. Round and round he turns in -the loose grey sand, burying himself deeper and deeper, and throwing -the grains out from the hole he has made by his twistings, using his -short, flat head for a shovel. The sand, as it is thrown over the side -of the burrow, forms quite a margin, and when all is completed the -Ant-lion sinks himself deep into the bottom of the trap he has digged, -leaving only the tips of his mandibles in sight, which are extended and -ready to seize any insect that is so luckless as to fall into their -reach. - -The unfortunate ant that ventures too close to the margin sets the sand -off rolling, and it immediately begins to struggle against falling -down, but the Ant-lion throws a few shovelfuls of sand against it, and -it soon comes tumbling down to the bottom of the funnel, when it is -instantly seized between the sharp mandibles in waiting, which, being -perforated by slender tubes, enable their blood-thirsty owner to suck -out its juices. - -Country children, and adults as well, manifest a deep interest in -these strange beings. They call them, as has been intimated before, -You-ee-ups. How the name originated, and when, I do not pretend to -know, nor have I been able upon inquiry to find out from the oldest -inhabitants of the regions they affect. Old men and old women in the -seventies and eighties knew these insects by this name when they were -children, and I have been informed that they were always so spoken of -by _their_ fathers and mothers. - -Even the insects themselves are believed to know the odd name by which -they are designated. So fixed is the belief in the minds of the many -that, to contradict it, is sure to subject the person so rash and -presumptuous to the grossest abuse from the friends of the strange -little creature. They have seen him in his sandy retreat, and have -called him by name, and he has never been known to decline a response. -“You-ee-up, you-ee-up,” cries one, with his mouth just over the -opening, and up comes the strange “crittur” as obedient as a lackey. -“You-ee-down, you-ee-down,” says the same childish voice, and down he -goes to his den to await, as is thought, the giving of further orders. - -That the Ant-lion does seem to respond when called, cannot be denied, -for I have tried the experiment myself, and others have tried it in -my presence, and always with the same successful results. But people -go through the world not only with their eyes closed and their ears -sealed, but also with their minds forever locked against thinking, -lest, by thinking, they might do themselves serious injury. Had but -a little of thinking been done, or some common sense exercised, the -solution of the insect’s strange actions could have been reached -without any great difficulty. - -Let me briefly explain. One cannot talk, as is well known, without some -motion being imparted to the outlying air. This moving air impinging -upon the loosely arranged sand piled up around the margin of the tiny -pitfall, dislodges some particles, and these, falling into the jaws -of the hidden Ant-lion, bring him to the surface, for he ascribes -the commotion to some ill-fated ant, or other such insect, that has, -in its anxious searching for food, tumbled unconsciously into his -artfully-laid trap. In a moment the mistake is discovered, and, with -all possible dispatch, he backs himself down into his den to await -further developments. His appearance on the occasion is greeted by -“you-ee-down, you-ee-down,” and as he goes down apparently in obedience -to the order, but really because it is a matter of business so to -do, it is claimed by the unlearned and unwise that his movements are -responsive to the command of the person by whom he is addressed. - -Two years of larval life, and the subject of our sketch is lost to -the sight of the rural folks. A new life, where feeding is no longer -necessary, awaits him, but one in which the most radical changes must -occur if he is to fulfil the existence which nature designed in her -grand scheme of creation. From a silk-gland, which, unlike those of the -butterflies and moths, is situated at the end of the body, he spins -a cocoon, but there being so little of silk to spare, he needs must -supply the deficiency by the utilization of a quantity of sand, which -he glues into the walls of his house. Here he dwells a comparatively -inactive pupa for three brief weeks, retaining his large, powerful -mandibles to the last, which he uses in cutting his way out of the -cocoon, when he is ready to emerge as a winged neuropter. In the -adult form he resembles the dragon-flies in flight, flapping wildly -and irregularly about, as if his muscles were too weak to wield his -great stretch of wings. But in repose his alar appendages are folded -above each other, forming an acute-angled roof above the long, slender -abdomen. The antennæ or feelers are short, stout and club-shaped, and -the wings long, narrow and densely veined. - -_Myrmeleon obsoletus_, a name given to this insect by Thomas Say, a -naturalist of repute, who lived in Philadelphia in the early half of -the present century, is by no means a rare species, if search is made -in the proper places. In the cut the larva is found to the right of -the burrow, while deep in the bottom, with the jaws only in view, is -another, prepared to receive the small ant just above should it lose -its foothold and tumble into the trap. On the wing, a little in the -background of the picture, may be seen the adult insect, represented in -hawking for prey over a meadowy expanse of country. - - - - -TOWER-BUILDING CICADA. - - -Closely allied to the bugs is a group of remarkable insects to which -naturalists now apply the name of Cicada, but which are generally, -though improperly, designated Locust by the common people. They are -readily distinguished by their broad heads, large prominent eyes, -with three eyelets triangularly placed between them, and delicately -transparent, veined wing-covers and wings. The abdomen is short and -pointed, and the legs are short, the anterior femora being much -thickened and toothed beneath. The hinder extremity of the body of -the female is conical, and the under-side has a longitudinal channel -for the reception of the ovipositor, or piercer, which is furthermore -protected by four short-grooved pieces which are immovably fixed to the -sides of the channel. The piercer itself consists of two outer parts -grooved on the inside and slightly enlarged and angular at the tips, -which are externally beset with small saw-like teeth, and a central -spear-pointed borer which plays between the other two, thus combining -the advantages of an awl and a double-edged saw, or rather of two -key-hole saws cutting opposite to each other. A hard, horny substance, -called chitine, the same as exists in the stings of bees and wasps, is -the material of its composition. It would be impossible to conceive -of anything more exactly fitted for its required uses than is this -beautiful complicated instrument. - -But the most peculiar characteristic of this family, however, consists -in the structure of the mechanism by which the males make the trilling -sound for which they have been so long famous. In the male of the -Seventeen-year Cicada the musical instrument consists of two stretched -membranes, one on each side of the body, which are plainly to be -seen immediately behind the wings. These membranes are gathered into -numerous fine plaits, and are played upon by muscles or cords fastened -to their under surfaces. When these muscles contract and relax, which -they do with great rapidity, the drum-heads, which the membranes -resemble, are alternately tightened and loosened, the effect of this -alternate tension and relaxation being the production of a rattling -sound very much like that caused by a succession of quick pressures -upon a slightly complex and elastic piece of tin-plate. Certain -cavities within the body of the insect, which may be seen on raising -two large valves beneath the abdomen, and which are separated from -each other by thin transparent partitions of the brilliancy of mica or -highly polished glass, tend to increase the intensity of the sound. - -In the winged state _Cicada septendecim_, as the subject of our -sketch was named by the immortal Linnæus, is of a black color, with -transparent wings and wing-covers, the thick anterior edge and veins of -which being orange-red. Near the tips of the latter there is a dusky -zig-zag line which resembles in shape the letter W. The eyes, when -living, are also red, while the legs are a dull orange, which color is -conspicuous along the edges of the rings of the body. The wings expand -from two and a half to three and a quarter inches. - -[Illustration: SEVENTEEN-YEAR CICADA. - -Adult, Chrysalis-Case, Pupa, Entrances to Burrows and Egg-Nests.] - -About the middle of June the perfect insects make their appearance, and -as they generally come in large numbers they do a great deal of damage. -In some localities they congregate to such an extent upon the trees as -to bend and even to break down the limbs by their weight. The din of -their discordant drums resounds in the woods and orchards from morning -to evening. As their life is of rather short duration, not lasting for -a longer period than a month, they soon begin to pair, and it is not -long afterwards that the females may be seen preparing nests for the -reception of their eggs. Branches of moderate size are selected for -this purpose. Their manner of perforation is curious and interesting. -Clasping the branch on both sides with their legs, and bending the -ovipositor at an angle of forty-five degrees, they repeatedly thrust it -into the bark and wood in the direction of the fibres, at the same time -setting the lateral saws at work, thereby detaching little splinters -of wood at one end, which are intended to serve as a kind of fibrous -cover for the nest. The hole is bored obliquely to the pith, and by a -repetition of the same operation is gradually enlarged until is formed -a longitudinal fissure of sufficient extent to receive from ten to -twenty eggs. The side-pieces of the piercer act as a groove to convey -the eggs to the nest, where they are deposited in pairs, but separated -from each other by a narrow strip of wood. When two eggs have been -thus placed, the piercer is withdrawn for a moment, and then inserted -till two more eggs are dropped in a line with the first, and thus the -operation is repeated until the fissure has been filled, when the -insect removes to a little distance and commences to make another nest -to contain two more rows of eggs. It takes about fifteen minutes to -prepare a groove and fill it with eggs. As many as twenty grooves are -sometimes made in a branch by a single insect, and when the limb has -been sufficiently stocked she goes from it to another, or from tree to -tree, until she has got rid of her complement of from five hundred to -seven hundred eggs. So weak does she at length become, in her continued -endeavor to provide for the succession of her race, as to fall, in an -attempt to fly, an almost lifeless lump to the earth, where her spirit -soon goes out never more to enliven its frail house of clay. - -Although Cicadas abound most upon the oaks, yet there seem to be no -trees or shrubs that are exempt from their attacks, unless it be the -various species of pines and firs. The punctured limbs languish and -die soon after the eggs are laid, and as often happens are broken off -by the winds; but when this is the case the eggs never hatch, for -the moisture of the living branch seems necessary for their proper -development. - -The eggs are one-twelfth of an inch in length, and one-sixteenth of -an inch through the middle, but taper to an obtuse point at each end. -They are of a pearl-white color. The shell is so thin and delicate that -the form of the inclosed insect can be seen before the egg is hatched. -One writer claims that fifty-two days, and others that fourteen days, -constitute the period required for the hatching of the egg. - -When it bursts the shell the young insect is one-sixteenth of an inch -long, and is of a yellowish-white color, excepting the eyes and -the claws of the fore-legs, which are reddish. It is clothed with -small hairs. In form it is grub-like, larger proportionally than the -parent, and provided with six legs, the first pair being very large, -shaped like lobster-claws, and armed beneath with strong spines. -Little prominences take the place of wings, and under the breast is -a long beak for suction. Its movements, after leaving the egg, are -very lively, and nearly as quick as some of the ants. But after a few -moments their instincts prompt them to reach the ground. They do not -attain this end by descending the body of the tree, nor by casting -themselves off precipitately, but, running to the side of the limb, -deliberately loosen their hold and drop to the ground, making the -perilous descent with the utmost safety. This seems almost incredible, -but it has been repeatedly observed by scores of honest witnesses. - -[Illustration: NEW-BORN CICADA. - -Line Below Shows Natural Size.] - -On reaching the ground the young insects immediately burrow their -way into the soil, using their broad and strong fore-feet pretty -much after the fashion of the mole. They apparently follow, in their -descent, the roots of plants, fastening their beaks into the most -tender and succulent, and thus imbibing their juices, which constitute -their sole aliment. They do not descend very deeply into the ground, -probably not more than ten or twelve inches, although accounts have -been published of their discovery at a depth of ten or twelve feet, but -their occurrence at such great distances from the top of the ground is -doubtless the result of accident. - -The only alteration to which the insects are subject during the -seventeen years of their subterranean confinement, is an increase in -size, and the more complete development of the four small scale-like -prominences of the back, which contain their future wings. - -When the time of its transformation draws near, the larva, in which -stage the insect passes the greater part of its existence, works its -way up towards the surface, oftentimes in a very circuitous manner, -for local changes make it necessary for it to bore through hard woods -and between stones well beaten down. The burrow which it thus produces -is cylindrical, about five-eighths of an inch in diameter, and firmly -cemented and varnished so as to be water-proof. The upper portion, to -the extent of five or six inches, is empty, and serves as a habitation -till the period of its exit arrives, while the lower is filled with -earthy matter removed by the insect in its progress. In this cell it -remains during several days, ascending to the top for the benefit of -the sunshine and air when the weather is auspicious, even venturing to -peep forth occasionally, but descending on the occurrence of cold or -wet weather. But when the favorable moment to leave their subterranean -retreats arrives, the Cicada-grubs, or more properly pupæ, for such -they are now to be considered, although they still retain something -of the grub-like form, issue from the ground in great numbers as -evening draws on, crawl up the trunks of trees, the stems of herbaceous -plants, or on to whatever is convenient, which they grasp securely -with their claws. After resting awhile, their skins, which have become -dry and of an amber color, are by repeated exertions rent along the -back, and through the slit formed the included Cicada pushes its -head and body, and withdraws its wings and legs from their separate -cases, and, crawling to a short distance, leaves its empty pupa-case -fastened to the tree. At first the wing-covers and wings are small and -opaque, but in a few hours they acquire their natural size and shape. -It is not, however, for three or four days that the muscles harden -sufficiently for them to assume their characteristic flight. The males -make their appearance some days in advance of the females, and also -disappear sooner. During several successive nights the pupæ continue -to issue from the ground, and in some places, as was the case in May -of 1868, when these insects appeared in great numbers in the vicinity -of Philadelphia, the whole surface of the soil was made by their -operations to assume a honey-combed appearance. - -[Illustration: DOME-LIKE HOUSE OF CICADA. - -Longitudinal Section Showing Pupa in Two Positions.] - -In localities where the soil is low and swampy, a remarkable chamber is -built up by the larva, where the pupa may be found awaiting the time -of its change to the winged state. These chambers were first noticed -by S. S. Rathvon, at Lancaster, Pa., and are from four to six inches -above the ground, and have a diameter of one inch and a quarter. When -ready to emerge the insect backs down to an opening which is left in -the side of the structure on a level with the surface of the ground, -issues forth and undergoes its transformation in the usual manner. -This peculiar habit of nest-building, which is so unlike what is -customary with the Cicadidæ, or with Hemiptera in general, points to a -high degree of intelligence among these insects, showing a remarkable -ability to adapt themselves to environing circumstances. Undue moisture -would be prejudicial to the pupa, as the larva seemed to know, through -the guidance of the same dumb and unerring instinct which teaches it to -cement its underground dwelling, but would that same instinct teach it -to construct so wonderful a dome-like house as the one described for -the preservation of its after-life, and one so eminently fitted by its -position, shape, size and entrance to secure the necessary shelter, -warmth and air for its protection and development? I apprehend not. -Nothing short of a reason, similar to that in man, but differing in -degree, would enable it to grasp the situation in which it found itself -to be placed when nearing its final change, and plan with the view of -carrying out the ultimate aim of its existence. - -Fortunately, these insects are appointed to return at periods so -distant that vegetation has a chance to recover from the injuries which -they inflict. Were they to appear at shorter intervals, our forest- and -fruit-trees would be entirely destroyed by them. They are, moreover, -subject to many accidents, and have many enemies, which contribute to -diminish their numbers. Their eggs are eaten by birds, and the young, -when they leave the egg, are preyed upon by ants, who mount the trees -for that purpose, or take them upon the ground as they are about to -enter upon their protracted larval career. Blackbirds eat them in the -spring when turned up by the plough, and hogs, when allowed to run at -large in the woods, root them up and devour large numbers, especially -just before the arrival of the period of their final transformation, -when they are lodged only a few inches below the surface of the soil. -Many perish in the egg by the closing up of the bark and wood that -constitute the walls of the perforations, thus burying the eggs before -they have hatched, and others, no doubt, are killed by their perilous -descent from the trees. - -As its name implies, this insect generally requires seventeen years -to complete its transformations, a fact that was first pointed out -many years ago by the botanist Kalm. The late Prof. Riley, who had -given this species a great deal of study, was the first to work -out the problem of its periodical returns. He found that there are -also thirteen-year broods, and that both sometimes occur in the same -locality, but that in general terms the thirteen-year brood might be -called the southern form, and the seventeen-year the northern form. At -the limits of their respective ranges these broods overlap each other. -The shorter-lived form he named provisionally _Cicada tredecim_. It -was the existence of this brood that led entomologists to doubt the -propriety of Linné’s name, because, in calculating each appearance -as occurring in any locality at the end of every seventeen years, -they could not make the dates of its periodical returns correct. But -it was Prof. Riley that cleared up the matter. It happened in the -summer of 1868 that one of the largest seventeen-year broods occurred -simultaneously with one of the largest thirteen-year broods. Such -an event, so far as these two particular broods are concerned, has -not taken place since 1647, nor will it take place again till the -year 2089. There are absolutely no specific differences between the -two broods other than in the time of maturing. There is, however, a -dimorphous form that appears with both these broods. It is smaller, -of a much darker color, has an entirely different voice, appears a -fortnight sooner, and is never known to pair with the ordinary form. -Dr. J. C. Fisher, in 1851, described it as _Cicada cassinii_, but the -specific differences are not sufficiently well defined to entitle it to -rank as a species. - - - - -HONEY-DEW. - - -That aphides secrete, or rather excrete, a saccharine fluid, called -honey-dew, which constitutes an important part of the food of ants, -is a fact well known to naturalists. It must not be supposed, -however, that this was its primitive use. But that it is in some way -connected with the preservation of the tender creatures by which it is -elaborated, there can exist not the slightest doubt. - -Concerning its origin and application, and the benefit which it secures -to its authors, various opinions have been hazarded, but they have all -been too unsatisfactory to merit more than a passing notice. That it -was of some advantage to young aphides was surmised by many, but the -proofs necessary to sustain such a surmise were unfortunately wanting. -It was left to the latter half of the nineteenth century to throw -correct light upon the subject. - -Whilst engaged some few years ago in the study of the species that -affects the blossoms of one of our gourds--the _Cucurbita ovifera_ of -botanists--certain phenomena were observed, which promised an easy and -speedy solution of the problem. - -Gathered in compact masses, like companies of soldiery preparing for -a foray, hundreds of aphides were seen, busily feeding, all over the -flowers. There were old and young, not an indiscriminate mingling of -ages and sizes, but an orderly arrangement of families, each family -preceded by its own appropriate head. First came the very young of -each family, only to be followed by those that were older, leaving the -oldest of all to lead up the rear. - -[Illustration: BLOSSOM OF CUCURBITA. - -Mother-Aphis and Her Army of Children on Tube.] - -Here, it was apparent, was a most wonderful manifestation of -intelligent design. The newly-born, needing the mother’s earliest -attention, were in closest proximity, while the almost mature were the -farthest removed from her essential presence. - -All this seemed to indicate the dearest relationship subsisting between -mother and offspring, but judging from outward appearances, little, -if any, love existed. It is true that maternal instinct, which is -seldom so far gone as to shut its ears to the beseechings of suffering -offspring for food, was far from being absent. Instances of its -presence were momentarily noted. - -But a stimulus seemed, in some cases, quite necessary to its -manifestation. There were times when the honey-glands acted without -any provocation. It was only, however, when the very tender were -a-hungry, that pressure was brought to bear upon the mothers. A few -gentle reminders served to arouse them from the apathetic indifference -which possessed them. The antennæ of the young were the means employed -for this purpose. Two or three caresses almost immediately brought -a discharge of honey. Again and again was the process observed, and -always with the same invariable result. - -Never for a longer period than two days were the very young dependent -upon this manner of feeding, for their digestive organs were too weak -and delicate to assimilate earlier, without injury, the powerful juices -of the food-plant. - -But what of the older offspring? That they were far from being -disregarded by parental provision, subsequent developments only too -plainly showed. The excretion, though less urgent in their case than -in that of the very young, was quite as indispensable. Were it not so, -what reason can be assigned for their very strict adherence to the -course over which the maternal head had already passed in feeding? - -From what has been said, there can be no doubt that the newly-born -aphis derives material advantage from the excretion. But as the supply -is clearly above the requirements, why the excess? It is evident -nature does not need it as a kind of compensation for losses sustained -through aphides. Then what purpose does it serve? It becomes in part -the pabulum of the stronger of the young, and this it accomplishes by -mixing with the natural juices of the plant, thereby rendering them fit -for use. - -To serve as food for the young is then the primary object of -aphis-excretion. That a secondary purpose, namely, the preservation of -the species, is also subserved, there can be no question. How this is -effected, it shall now be my endeavor to show. - -Ants, it is well known, are fond of sugar, gums and saccharine -solutions, as well as the rich juices and tender tissues of animals. -But their appetite for sweets is stronger than for all other diets. -To them aphis would prove quite as toothsome a morsel as it is to -Coccinella, and would be as eagerly hunted for by them were it not for -this matter of sweets. - -Way back in the history of time, things were perhaps different from -what they are now. Aphis was then a racy tidbit, and shared, no doubt, -the murderous assaults of Formica, as it did of other carnivores. - -For ages this may have been going on, but how long conjecture only can -tell. But there came a time when affairs were changed. A new order -of things was initiated. Earth was growing better and impressing new -features upon its life. An Ant, more wise than any of its fellows, or -any that had ever lived before, doubtless stepped upon the scene, and a -new era for Aphis inaugurated. - -Finding by accident, or otherwise, the delightful qualities of -aphis-excretion, it would not be slow to communicate the information to -its companions. And as news travels rapidly, and ants are by no means -reticent creatures, but a short time would be necessary to carry it -everywhere, till all the families, near and remote, of the great world -of the Formicidæ would be made acquainted with the important discovery. - -Now, as ants are endowed with a high degree of intelligence, -considering the position they occupy in the grand scale of created -existences, they would soon perceive that their highest good would be -attained by taking under their protection the little creatures which -are the authors of this excretion. From this time the ants would begin -to abandon their sanguinary propensities and manifest some regard for -the aphides. The latter, in return, perceiving the former’s friendly -disposition, would cease to fear them, and learn to cater to their -wants. Thus would be developed, in time, those amicable relations which -subsist between the two great, yet widely differentiated, families. - - - - -MILCH-COWS OF THE ANTS. - - -While much has been written upon the social relations subsisting -between ants and aphides, yet the subject never grows uninteresting or -threadbare. New facts are brought to light as observations widen and -extend, some tending to confirm, and others to subvert old notions. - -That aphides excrete a sweet, viscid, honey-like fluid, which affords -food for many species of ants, has been long known to naturalists. -Any one can convince himself of this truth if he will but put himself -to the trouble of examining the leaves or branchlets of any plant at -the proper season of the year. Scattered upon the foliage and tender -twigs thereof will be found millions of aphides, and close beside them -countless ants, that ever and anon will be seen to caress, by means of -their antennæ, the little creatures for the sweets within their bodies. -It has even been asserted that some species of ants keep aphides as -human beings do cows, but this by the many has been doubted, or deemed -imaginary. - -When a young man the writer was disposed to drift with the popular -opinion in this particular, but a few facts that fell under his notice -whilst searching for carabi and other beetles that live under stones -and decayed logs, changed the bias of his mind and established in him -the idea that with one species of ant this was at least the case. - -It was on an occasion while exploring a neighboring thicket for the -objects of his search, that he discovered, underneath a large flat -stone which he had raised, a nest of a small red ant, which he took -to be the _Lasius flavus_ of the books. The ground was covered all -over with pits, and divers communicating roads, and round about were -hundreds of ants, larvæ in various stages of development, pupæ and -eggs, and innumerous flocks of a white aphis, all of which were being -tenderly cared for by a large army of thoughtful nurses. - -[Illustration: NEST OF LASIUS. - -Neuters About Their Work.] - -No sooner did the intrusion occur than the colony was a scene of -busy activity. Interested in what was before him, the writer seated -himself upon a small mound overlooking the nest, where could be clearly -observed the minutest details of ant-life. The neuters were everywhere -to be noticed, but not a single male or female ant. All the work -devolved upon the neuters. These were divided into three sets, each set -having a definite part to perform in the unexpected drama before it. -Some neuters had the exclusive charge of the mature larvæ, others of -the pupæ and very young grubs, and the rest of their aphidian herds. - -But it is to those that had the care of the aphides that we shall -particularly invite attention. At the time of the disturbance, these -specialized neuters were busy milking their cows, which they did -by rubbing their long, pliant feelers against the anal nipples of -the latter, drawing therefrom, as it seemed, a drop of the coveted -fluid with each antennal stroke. No aphis was known to be visited in -this business twice in succession, but the ants would go from one to -another, and only return to the first when sufficient time had elapsed -for the replenishing of its store. So intent were they upon their task, -that several minutes must have passed before they took in the danger to -which they were exposed. - -You should then have seen their anxiety, and the presence of mind they -exhibited. Conscious as of attack, and knowing the peril that beset -them, they did not flee to their underground galleries, or to the -adjoining grasses, for shelter, and thus leave their flocks to the -mercy of the invader, but they manifested the deepest concern for the -little creatures, so unable to defend themselves, that had so willingly -catered to their temporal wants. Not an ant was seen to desert its -post, but all remained on duty till the last of their protegés was -carried to safe and comfortable apartments in the ground beneath. - -What clearer evidence is wanted to show the love these neuters bear the -tender objects of their care? It must be plain that man bestows not -half the attention upon his flocks than do these ants on theirs. It is -true they do not bring them food, but that they build their homes where -food, the roots of herbs and grasses, abound, there is no doubt. It -may be, too, that they are carried to their pasture-grounds, when that -necessity occurs, but this cannot with truth be said. When some would -stray, they were returned within the fold, which shows the watch these -ants do exercise. - -Concluding then, this much may be averred: food, wholesome, sweet, -nutritious food, the aphides supply to ants, the neuters and the young, -but specially the young. And that they lead most happy, prosperous -lives, the ants their masters, must surely be, or looks deceive. - - - - -LIVING ARTILLERY. - - -No more remarkable creature exists, perhaps, than the little _Brachinus -fumans_, which is so very common in the early spring. Damp situations -are affected by it, but it is seldom met with except by insect-hunters, -for it conceals itself generally under stones, as many as a half-dozen -individuals often being found in company in a single locality. Banks of -tidal rivers afford excellent hunting-grounds in England for Brachinus, -but in America low, dank woods and borders of streams are the places -where one must look to discover its presence. - -When once you have made the acquaintance of so remarkable a stranger -you can never afterwards fail to recognize him in your travels. He -is peculiar, but not at all distinguished in looks, as some of his -brethren. Picture a yellowish-red beetle, with a bluish frock-coat, -which his wing-covers resemble, and possessed of a short, narrow head, -a heart-shaped prothorax, as the front of the chest-segments is called, -and a long, broad abdomen, three times the size of the rest of his -body, and you have a tolerably fair idea of Brachinus. - -But it is not so much his odd shape as a most extraordinary property -he possesses, which is singularly unique in the animal kingdom, that -makes him an object of interest and curiosity. Deep down in his most -marvellous body a fluid, highly volatile in its nature, is elaborated, -which the little creature can retain or expel at his pleasure. It -is only, however, when alarmed that he utilizes this fluid in small -quantities in defense, but its effect is wonderful, for in coming -into contact with the atmosphere it immediately volatilizes and -explodes, looking very much like a discharge of powder from a miniature -artillery. In consequence of this phenomenon the insect which produces -it is popularly called the Bombardier Beetle. - -[Illustration: BRACHINUS PURSUED BY AN ENEMY. - -His Curious and Unique Method of Defence.] - -So small a coleopter, being scarcely one-fourth of an inch in length, -and so comparatively weak, is likely to be attacked by the larger -Geodephaga, or Earth Devourers, and especially by the Carabi, which -inhabit similar retreats. But for this curious defence the smaller -insect could have but the barest chance of living in the struggle for -existence. Often have I seen a Carabus in hot pursuit of Brachinus. The -chase is always an interesting one, and never fails, however frequently -it has been observed, of attracting attention and exciting admiration. -But the wide-awake, ever watchful Brachinus never loses his head for a -second when thus pursued, but like the clever artilleryman that he is, -awaits the opportune moment, and then pours a heavy discharge of his -fulminating fluid into the very face of the enemy. Baffled, alarmed, -Carabus desists from the attack, and backs slowly away from the tiny -blue smoke, while Brachinus, in the confusion that ensues, escapes to -some place of security for rest and protection. - -Most skilfully has the artist delineated the scene. _Carabus serratus_, -the pursuing beetle, is chasing the Bombardier, and has nearly effected -his capture, when, all of a sudden, a discharge of artillery has -stopped the pursuit, under cover of which the Bombardier will make off. -Meanwhile the Carabus, exchanging his rapid advance for a retreat quite -as rapid, throws back his antennæ, a sign of his defeat, and skulks -away to recover his wonted self-possession. - -The volatile fluid, which produces such curious effects, is secreted -in a small sac just within the end of the abdomen. Not only is it -capable of repelling the larger beetles by its explosion and cloud -of blue vapor, but it is also powerful enough to discolor the human -skin, as many who have captured Bombardier Beetles by the hand know -only too well. Should the fluid get within the eyelids, the pain and -irritation produced are very distressing. Some years ago the writer, -while searching for carabi underneath stones and in creviced rocks, met -for the first time with Brachinus, but was ignorant as a child of his -obnoxious property. Placing a little fellow upon his hand for close -examination, he soon experienced a burning and painful sensation of the -ball of the eye, but did not for a long while attribute the cause to a -discharge from the Beetle. Repeated investigations at very short ranges -by means of a microscope were attended with similar results, till -eventually an inflammation of the visual organs set in, accompanied by -a blurring of the sight, which debarred him from reading and study for -nearly a fortnight. One learns wisdom by experience, and the wisdom -thus acquired serves for a lifetime. - -Even Brachinus has learned by experience, doubtless, to be economical -in the use of his resources. The whole of the contents of his tiny -magazine are not ejected at one discharge, but there is sufficient -to produce a series of explosions, each explosion being perceptibly -fainter than its predecessor. By pressing the abdomen of the dead -Beetle between finger and thumb these explosions may even be produced. -In hot countries, where exceedingly large species abound, the -explosions are said to be very loud, and accompanied with quite a cloud -of blue vapor. - - - - -BRIGHT AND SHINING ONES. - - -Probably more than ninety thousand different species of beetles exist -in the world, first and foremost among them standing the Cicindelidæ, -or Tiger Beetles. From their high position in the coleopterous world -they may well demand our attention, but they have other claims upon our -consideration. They are beautiful, courageous little creatures, and -accomplish a vast amount of good to man. The name Cicindela, by which -they are known to scientific people, tells us that they are the “bright -and shining ones;” while the cognomen of Tiger Beetle reveals to all -English-speaking nations the story of the incessant warfare which they -wage upon their fellows. - -The Cicindelæ love the merry sunshine. On any bright summer day they -may be found running and flying about sunny banks, or revelling in -sandy places where the day-god smilingly rejoices. They mostly avoid -vegetation, as it checks their easy rapid movements, although some -kinds affect grassy spots among the trees. They are the most predaceous -of the coleoptera, and behave like the tigers among mammals, the hawks -among birds, the crocodiles among reptiles and the sharks among fishes. -In the tropics some few genera seek their food on the leaves of trees, -but in temperate and sub-tropical regions, where the species are more -abundant, they are terrestrial in habits. - -Let us now take our instruments of capture and go in quest of some -of the dozen or more species that have their home with us. The day -is auspicious. Here is a likely spot. See there upon the ground are -some specimens of our commonest species--the _Cicindela vulgaris_ of -naturalists. Go for that one. He sees you as quickly as you see him, -and is off for a few yards, but suddenly drops to the grass from his -flight, but always with his head towards the enemy. Again and again -you start him, but at last, tiring of the chase, he takes a longer -flight that usual. This is a _ruse_ of his, and knowing what it means, -you hurry back to where you first saw him in time to see him all -unsuspectingly alight, and you easily take him captive in your toils. -Now that you have him secure, examine him closely. Watch how savagely -he moves his mandibles and tries to pinch. You need not be afraid, -for his bite is inoffensive and not very painful. You measure with -the eye his size, and you rightly decide that he is not much over an -inch in length, and scarcely one-fourth in breadth. His head you will -find very large and brainy, his jaws powerful and long and curved, -two scimitar-like weapons, which are admirably fitted for cutting and -carving the quivering bodies of his prey. His eleven-jointed antennæ -are long, slender and graceful. In color his back is dull purple, but -beneath he is resplendent in a bright brassy green. Three whitish, -irregular bands adorn his wing-covers. His legs, long and slender, are -just the things on which to hunt the active insects upon which he feeds. - -His next of kin, the Purple Tiger Beetle, is nearly as large as he, and -often joins him in company. Beautifully robed in purple he usually is, -but sometimes in a greenish garb arrayed. From the outer almost to the -inner margin of each wing meanders a reddish line, while lower down a -dot, and still another at the farthest tip of the inner border, enhance -his beauty. Cold spring days delight him best, and he is often seen -when snow is yet upon the ground. - -More beautiful by far than either, and no less active, is _Cicindela -sex guttata_, or the Six-spotted Tiger Beetle, whose dress, a brilliant -metallic green, flecked with six small silver spots, renders him a -pretty sight when you flash the rays of light athwart his burnished -armor. Hot, June-like days and dusty road-sides suit him best, and -there, what time the sun looks down in all his burning ardor, our -little friend is met, his purpose bent on slaughter. Other species -might be instanced, for North America contains at least a hundred, but -enough have been given for our present object. - -[Illustration: COMMON TIGER BEETLE. - -Larvæ in Burrows. Two Other Species in Background.] - -Tiger Beetles may well be called beneficial insects. Although they -do not, like that brilliant murderess, the dragon-fly, clear the -atmosphere of the gnats and flies that torment mankind, but still, -with their powerful curved daggers, which serve them for jaws, they -accomplish a swift and almost incredible havoc among the smaller -insects. We should take care of them, and respect them, for they are an -invaluable auxiliary to the farmer. - -The ferocity of these insects is remarkable. No sooner have they taken -their prey, than they quickly strip it of wings and legs, and proceed -at once to suck out the contents of its abdomen. Often when they are -disturbed in this agreeable occupation, not wishing to leave their -victim, they fly away with it to a place of uninterrupted security, but -they are unable to carry a heavy burden to any great distance. - -They are true children of the earth. The eggs are laid in the earth, -and in the earth the grubs are hatched, and in the earth they spend -their days, and in the earth they prepare their shrouds, and, wrapped -therein, sleep their pupa-sleep through the long, dreary winter, and -with the returning warmth of spring crawl out of their earthy chambers -to run and sport on earth, seldom using their new-formed wings to fly -away from their beloved mother. - -The grubs are hideous hunchbacks, but possessed of brains and stomach. -They live in the same localities as their parents, the anxious mother, -with wise precision, having carefully deposited her eggs where food -would be readily attainable by her children. Have you a desire to -examine a larva? There is a hole that has been made by one of these -creatures. Place down into it a small straw or a bit of fine twig. The -cranky little hermit, who is always wide-awake, resists most fiercely -such unprovoked insolence, and instantly seeks, by the aid of his -broad, expansive head, to eject the intruding object. Now is your time. -When he shows himself, quickly seize him with your fingers. You will -find him a perfect Daniel Quilp, with head enormous, flat, metallic in -color and armed with long, curved jaws. His legs are six in number, -and on the back, half-way between the legs and tail, are two curious, -odd-looking tubercles, each terminating in a pair of recurved hooks. -The head and first body-division are horny, the rest of the creature -being soft and very sensitive. - -While the larval Cicindela has all the desire for slaughter which his -parents manifest, yet his delicate skin, long body and stubby legs -not only prevent him from chasing prey, but also from attempting a -struggle with an insect of any size; nevertheless this imperfectly -armed creature manages to secure his food without exposing himself -to any serious risk. With his short, thick spiny legs he loosens the -earth, and with his flat head, which he uses as a shovel, and turning -himself into a z-shaped figure, hoists up the clay and upsets it -around the mouth of his intended dwelling. With head and legs, and -with a perseverance that is truly surprising, he sinks in a very short -time a shaft a foot in length and as large in diameter as an ordinary -lead-pencil. - -Especial pains are taken to see that the tunnel is sufficiently wide, -so that the little creature can crawl in with ease. If he wishes to -remain set fast, he sticks the back of his body against the sides and -rests safely with the aid of his hooks. In this position he can poke -his head out of the ground, thus closing the entrance of his burrow, -while in patient waiting for some unsuspicious wayfarer to pass over. -As soon, however, as the luckless insect touches the top of his head, -he relinquishes his hold within the tunnel and descends with great -precipitation to the bottom, and thus his victim falls into the hole, -where it is seized by the powerful jaws and its juices absorbed in a -quiet, leisurely manner. The loose earth around the opening of the -tunnel gives way on the approach of an insect, and thus the success of -the cunning Cicindela is doubly insured. - -Sometimes in the construction of a burrow, after a certain depth has -been reached, the young Cicindela meets with a difficulty which he had -not expected. A flat stone is encountered, and thus further progress -in a vertical direction is prevented. If the obstacle, on account of -its size, cannot be gone round, and the shaft is not deep enough for -his purpose, it is not unusual for him to desert it and attempt the -tunnelling of a home in some more desirable spot. He does not undertake -a very long journey, for he knows too well the risk which he runs by -so doing, as he is in danger of being assaulted by secret foes in the -rear, an attack which the peculiar conformation of his hinder body ill -fits him to resist. On land he is timid and cowardly, and well might -he be, but within the protecting walls of his underground castle, -with a pair of powerful swords with which to defend himself, he is the -impersonation of fearlessness and courage. - -When fully grown the larva closes up the mouth of its abode, and in -quiet and solitude undergoes its metamorphosis, lying dormant during -the winter months. But when the breath of warm spring days has melted -the icy coldness of the earth, and filled the air with vivifying -influences, then comes it forth in all the pomp and splendor of its -nature--a winged existence. - -It has been seen what a beautiful adaptation of means to an end is -shown by the young Cicindela. Even the adult, or mature form, with its -long, slender legs, so admirably formed for silence and fleetness of -movement, which are alike necessary to pursuit of prey and escape from -enemies, displays the wisdom of Him who breathed into all animated -nature, no matter how small or how humble, the essence of His being, -and endowed one and all with qualities of mind and body which should -respond to environing conditions and thus prepare them to survive in -the struggle for existence. - - - - -QUEEN OF AMERICAN SILK-SPINNERS. - - -No insect affords a better proof of high art in nature, and of the -transcendent beauty of the Creator’s thoughts, than the Luna moth, -which is as preëminent above her fellows as her namesake, the fair -empress of the sky, above the lesser lights that dominate the night. -Her elegant robes of green, set off with trimmings of purple, and -jewelled with diamonds, added to her queenly grace and personal -charms, will always distinguish her from the _profanum vulgus_ of the -articulata. - -And now for a short biographical sketch of this remarkable beauty -from the cradle to the grave, and beyond, after she has assumed her -resurrection-attire, to the day when, her appointed work on earth being -ended, she quietly lays her body down to mingle with its native clay. - -In her childhood, or caterpillar state, her head is elliptical in -shape, of a light pearly color, the rest of the body being a clear -bluish-green. A faint yellow band stretches along each side, just below -the line of her breathing-organs, from the first to the tenth segment, -while the back, between the several body-rings, is crossed by narrow -transverse bars, similar in coloration. Each segment, after the fashion -of her kith and kin, is adorned with small pearly warts, tinged with -purple, some five or six in number, each tipped with a few simple -hairs. Three brown spots, bordered above with yellow, ornament the end -of the tail. An interesting variety, whose general color is a dull -reddish-brown, is sometimes met with, but the lateral and transverse -stripes of yellow have disappeared, and the pearl-colored warts with -edges of purple have assumed a richer hue and blaze like a coronet of -rubies. When at rest, with the rings all bunched and body shortened, -the infantile Luna is as thick as a man’s thumb, measuring but two -inches in linear direction; but when she sets out upon her travels, -feeling the dignity of her station in life, she stretches to her full -length of three inches. - -When have been completed her allotted days of feeding upon the leaves -of the hickory, oak, walnut or sweet gum, and she is seriously -contemplating the preparing of a shroud and casket in which to await -her resurrection-morn, she casts about for leaves, which, when they -are found, she securely draws together, and within the hollow space -there is soon spun a very close and strong oval cocoon of silk, one -and three-fourths inches in length, of chestnut-brown color, thin, and -covered with warts and excrescences, but seldom showing the imprints -of leaves. Cocoons of Luna so nearly resemble those of polyphemus, -that many an experienced collector is greatly chagrined, after getting -together a large supply of what he deems Luna cocoons, to find dusky, -one-eyed polyphemi to issue from the silken tombs rather than a goodly -throng, in delicate bridal attire, of proud empresses of the night. -Polyphemus cocoons are, however, somewhat smaller than Lunas, white -or dirty-white in color, rounded at each end, and sometimes angular, -because of the leaves being unevenly moulded into their surfaces, and -generally covered with a whitish meal-like powder. - -[Illustration: AMERICAN LUNA MOTH. - -Larva on Branch Below, and Cocoon on Twig Just Above.] - -In June the Lunas awake from their death-like slumber, burst asunder -their silken cerements, having at first made loose the compact threads -by a fluid-ejection, and come out into the world in all the freshness -and glory of a new and untried existence. Their wings, which expand -from four and three-fourths to five and one-half inches, are of a -delicate light-green color, the hinder ones being prolonged into a tail -of an inch and a half or more in length. Along the anterior margin -of the fore-wings is a broad purple-brown stripe, extending also -across the back, and sending downwards a little branch to a glittering -eye-like spot near the middle of the wing. These eyes, of which there -is one on each wing, are transparent in the centre, and encircled by -white, yellow, blue and black rings. The hinder borders are more or -less edged with purple-brown. All the nervures are very distinct, and -pale-brown in color. Near the body the wings are thickly invested with -long white hairs. The under sides, excepting that an indistinct line -runs along the margin of both wings, are like to the upper. As for the -body, the thorax is white, occasionally yellowish or greenish, and -coursed by the purple-brown stripe that traverses the entire length -of the upper edge of the wings; and the abdomen, similarly colored, -and clothed with white, wool-like hairs. The head is small and white, -and furnished with broad, flat and strongly pectinated antennæ, which -are very much wider in the male. The legs are purple-brown, and poorly -adapted for walking, but this defect is largely compensated for in -the wide stretch of wings, that fit their possessor for powerful and -long-sustained flight. - -Such is Luna in her various transformations. Notwithstanding her -great size and almost matchless loveliness, her habits are not -proportionally noteworthy. The gift of superior beauty, in the insect -as in the mammalian world, does not often carry with it a high order -of intelligence. It is true the young Luna knows pretty well the -secret of dissembling. How quickly she perceives the approach of an -enemy! And she knows how to deal with him, but her little trick of -simulating death, or an immobile twig, does not always succeed with -the wily spider, or artful ichneumon. That she is a tolerably good -connoisseur of the character of foods, there can be no question. You -cannot deceive her. Take from her the foods her ancestors have used -for centuries untold, and substitute others she knows nothing about, -and she is at once cognizant of the change. However hungry she may be, -and in her early growing years she is ever a voracious feeder, she -will starve rather than eat what the unwritten law of her race has -strictly interdicted. I have known cases where death has ensued, or -the caterpillar has pupated earlier than usual, when alien food has -been given it to eat. But in the beginning of life, just after the -first skin-moulting has been effected, ere the little creature has -attained its seventh day of age, no trouble is experienced in changing -the food, almost anything edible in the plant-line being eaten, though -some things with a more decided relish than others. In the matter of -cocoon-weaving, where the necessary leaves for a basis cannot be -obtained, as occurs in captivity, the inconvenience is overcome, but -not without difficulty. Leaves, you must know, are in Luna’s way of -thinking, as essential to cocoon-building as wooden or iron beams and -girders to man’s own constructing. Without a framework of some sort, -what a sorry attempt would we make at home-building, but Luna does -succeed, after a good deal of wise planning and no little worry, in -producing a house which is well worthy her effort. - -While the gaudy moth or butterfly, when contrasted in wisdom and sense -with the dingy-colored bee, may suffer in comparison, yet she is by -no means the dull, stupid creature she is pictured to be. She lives, -it is a fact, as has often been said, for the increase of her race, -but the interest she shows for the young she may never see, in laying -her eggs upon the plant that is to serve them as food and home, puts -her upon a rather high plane of intelligent existence. Luna’s life, in -the perfect state, is usually quite brief. It is one of the happiest -of honeymoons. Love conquers and destroys all other passions of her -being, while her gormandizing offspring are never troubled by the -ardent flame which consumes even the thought of sipping the nectar of -the flowers that rival in beauty the wings of the mother, who is the -perfect representation and embodiment of elegance and grace. While the -early insect lives and eats, the adult form, upon whom Dame Nature has -expended so much wealth of color and such symmetry of shape, which make -her a “thing of beauty and a joy forever,” lives and dies, for in her -seeming haste and forgetfulness the great mother of us all has made her -without the essential means of tasting food, a delight and an enjoyment -which the lords of creation are so wont to esteem the purpose and aim -of all human existence. - - - - -BASKET-CARRIERS. - - -You who have been to the country, in the summer, and who have kept your -eyes alive to the surroundings, have doubtless seen the Basket-worm -feeding upon the leaves of the quince, apple, peach, linden, and other -deciduous trees, as well as upon such evergreen as the arbor-vitæ, -Norway spruce, and red cedar. In Germany these worms are popularly -designated _Sack-träger_, or Sack-bearer, while the mature insect is -spoken of as the House-builder Moth. Scientifically speaking, the -latter is called _Thyridopteryx ephemeræformis_, a name which is nearly -twice the length of the caterpillar it represents. - -During the winter the curious weather-beaten bags of these worms may be -observed hanging from the tree-branches, apparently without a trace of -the odd-looking creatures that hung them there the autumn before. If a -number of these bags are gathered and cut open at this time, many of -them will be discovered to be empty, but the greater portion will be -found partly full of yellow eggs. Those which do not contain eggs are -male bags, and the empty chrysalis of the male will be found protruding -from the lower extremity. Upon close examination these eggs will be -observed to be obovate in form, soft and opaque, about one-twentieth of -an inch in length, and surrounded by more or less fawn-colored silky -down. If left to themselves, they hatch sometime in May, or early in -June. - -The young which come from these eggs are of a brown color, very active -in their movements, and begin at once to make for themselves coverings -of silk, to which they fasten bits of the leaves of the tree on which -they are feeding, forming small cones that are closely adherent to -the leaf-surfaces. As the larvæ grow, they augment the size of their -enclosures or bags from the bottom, until they become so large and -heavy that they hang instead of remaining upright, as they did at first. - -By the end of July the caterpillars become fully grown. They are now -exceedingly restless, and may be seen wandering from branch to branch -by means of their true legs which are projected from the mouths of -their baskets, to which they keep firm hold, or suspended from a branch -of a tree by a long silken thread of their own manufacture. When very -abundant, as they were in certain localities during the season just -ended, they become a great nuisance, as one can hardly walk beneath the -trees without being inconvenienced by a dozen or more dangling into his -face. - -Removed from the case at this stage of existence and closely examined, -that portion of the body which has been covered by the bag will be -seen to be soft, and of a dull brownish color, inclining to red at the -sides, while the three anterior segments, which are exposed when the -insect is feeding or travelling, will be found to be horny and mottled -with black and white. The pro-legs on the middle and hinder segments, -which are soft and fleshy, will show themselves fringed with numerous -hooks, by which the larva is enabled to cling to the silken lining of -its bag and drag it along wherever it goes. The external surface of the -bag is rough and irregular, often presenting a beautiful ruffle-like -appearance, which is due to the projecting portions of the stems and -leaves which are woven into it. During their growing-period these -caterpillars are slow travellers, seldom leaving the tree on which they -were hatched. When about to change into chrysalids, they fasten their -bags securely to the twigs on which they happen to be, and then undergo -their change, the male chrysalis being very much smaller than the -female, hardly one-third its size. - -When we examine the cases of the Basket-worm, hardly any two will be -seen to be alike in their ornamentation. So completely is the outside -covered, when made upon the arbor-vitæ, which seems to be a favorite -food-plant of the species, that the silken envelope is concealed from -view. The bits of twigs and leaves are probably protective, and yet one -would think that the extremely tough case which covers the caterpillar -would be quite sufficient to protect it against all assaults of foes -and stress of weather. Nevertheless, this leafy coat of mail, which -sometimes wholly covers the sac, must certainly add very much to the -protective value of the covering. The caterpillar has a soft, hairless -body, and is thus more exposed than many of its neighbors, and nature, -it would seem, has favored it far above all of its fellows. - -How the worm manages to trim its coat in this manner must seem, to the -uninitiated in such matters, wholly inexplicable. To enable the reader -to understand the manner of operation, it will be necessary first to -explain its mode of feeding. The larva has perfect control of its own -movements, notwithstanding the fact that it carries its house upon its -back. It can thus thrust its body out of the sac-mouth until nearly the -whole of it is exposed, and twist and bend itself in every direction. -Specimens have been met with that had dropped from the trees hanging -by a thread and squirming, bending and snapping their bodies in the -most grotesque ways, while the case spun around like an old-fashioned -distaff. Now, when the caterpillar wants to feed it stretches its head -and neck out of the case and moves them about until a satisfactory -place has been secured, which it clasps with its true legs, three pairs -of hard, conical organs armed with sharp claws, and pulls up its body -and commences to spin. The spinning-organs are near the mouth, and -after several movements of the head, as though smearing the liquid -viscid silk upon the leaf, the head is drawn back, drawing out with it -a short thread. A similar movement is then made against one side of -the mouth of the sac, the process being repeated several times until -a stout stay-line is spun by which the larva hangs securely. Now the -creature is ready to feed. The behavior, however, varies a great deal. -In feeding upon the white pine it secures itself to one leaf by its -stay-line, while it reaches to an adjoining leaf which it bites off, -and sitting erect, as it were, in its house, comfortably chews off the -end which is continually shored upward by the first and second pairs of -true legs that stand out free and untrammelled above the sac. - -[Illustration: HOUSE-BUILDER MOTH. - -Young in House, Winged Male, Young Suspended and Bag-like Female in -Longitudinally-Split Cocoon.] - -But more frequently the worm feeds without separating the leaf from the -point of suspension. By making itself fast to the under part of the -leaf it is thus enabled to reach the edge, which it gnaws round and -round until it has completed its destruction. - -So securely does the caterpillar hold on to its house, that one would -suppose that its body was lashed to the inside. But no, its body is -unhampered, for it can turn itself easily around in its case, and go -out at either end, although the head is generally directed upward. -It clings to the inside with the hooks upon its hinder feet, and so -tenaciously, too, that the writer has never been able to pull one -out, being checked by the fear of tearing the creature in two. And -now to the mode of attaching the leaf-cuttings to the case. This -is always done at or near the mouth of the sac. The Ephemeraform -larva is a growing creature, unlike the moth itself, which emerges -a perfect insect of full growth. It commences life as a small worm, -eats small quantities, and, as may be observed, down towards the -foot of the case sews on very small tags. But after it has fastened -on these pieces to the mouth, it grows itself, and so also does the -case, which it continually stretches and enlarges. Hence the mouth of -the case is continually changing, moving upward as the worm feeds, -so that the pieces sewed upon the cap of the case thus appear, in an -adult caterpillar, precisely as they are seen scattered along the -outside from top to bottom. And now, as to how the pieces are put into -the case, I shall endeavor to explain. That the worm cuts purposely -through the twig which it needs for the case, I feel certain. Of course -the outer or detached part drops down. But, while eating, the worm -frequently, quite constantly, indeed, spreads its viscid silk along the -leaf and so keeps it attached on both sides to the upper rim of the -sac, or to its own mouth-parts, and thus the tip of the twig or leaf, -instead of falling to the ground when it is severed from the stem, -simply drops alongside of the case, to which it is held by the slight -filament that attaches it to the sac, or, as happens in many instances, -remains attached to the caterpillar’s spinneret. In either case the -leaf, twig or stem remains, and, after being drawn up, adjusted and -tightened by the worm, adheres tightly. As the creature is forever -moving its spinning-tubes around the top of the sac, these fastenings -are being continually strengthened, and thus one piece after another is -added, and so the basket grows. - -While the case of the Basket-worm, and even that part of its body -which it chooses to expose to view, are known to the casual observer, -yet but few persons have ever seen the mature insect. The female moth -is wingless, and never leaves the bag, but makes her way to its lower -orifice, and there awaits the attendance of the male. She is not only -without wings, but is devoid of legs also, being, in short, nothing -more than a yellowish bag of eggs with a ring of soft, pale-brown, -silky hair near the tail. The male, on the other hand, has transparent -wings and a black body, and is very active on the wing during the -warmer portions of the day. After pairing the female deposits her -eggs, intermingled with fawn-colored down, within the empty pupa-case, -and when this task is completed works her way out of the case, drops -exhausted to the ground and dies. - -Though a Southern rather than a Northern insect, yet it is found as far -north as New Jersey and New York, and occasionally in Massachusetts. -It is extremely local in character, abounding in one particular -neighborhood and totally unknown a few miles away. Where they occur in -abundance they often almost entirely defoliate the trees they attack, -but this can be easily prevented by gathering the cases containing -the eggs for the next brood during the winter and destroying them. -Hand-picking the cases with the worms in them, where their ravages -are confined to small trees and shrubbery, will also help to hold -them in check. Nature has provided two species of ichneumon for their -destruction. One of them, _Cryptus inquisitor_, is about two-fifths of -an inch in length, and the other, _Hemiteles thyridopteryx_, is nearly -one-third of an inch. Five or six of this latter species will sometimes -occupy the body of a single caterpillar, and after destroying their -victim spin for themselves tough, white, silken cocoons within the bag. - - - - -HONEY-PRODUCING CATERPILLARS. - - -Late in June, growing abundantly in the edges of woods throughout this -region, may be seen the _Cimicifuga racemosa_ of botanists, popularly -called Rattleweed, or Black Snakeroot. It sends up a stalk, sometimes -branching, four or five feet, terminating in a spike or spikes, six to -ten inches long, of round, greenish-white buds, which stand upon short -stems, and are arranged in rows about the stalk, diminishing in size -till they reach the pointed top. The lower buds, when they are about -the size of an ordinary pea, open first, and the flowering proceeds -by degrees up the spike, so that buds are to be met with throughout a -period of from four to six weeks. The flowers emit an intensely sweet -odor, which renders them attractive to butterflies and bees. - -But should you examine these buds with care, you will find a number -of small caterpillars, the larva of the beautiful Azure Butterfly, -called _Lycæna pseudargiolus_, feeding thereon. During its younger -stages it is white, and so near the color of these buds that it is -well protected, and very difficult to find. Later on, it may be white -or greenish, and often diversified with a few black or brown patches, -irregularly diffused over the surface. - -When mature the larva is one-half of an inch in length, and, like all -Lycænid larvæ, is onisciform, or shaped like the little pill-bug, so -common under stones and logs. The head is very small, and is placed -on the end of a long, green neck, which at the junction is of the -thickness of the head, but gradually enlarges, and seems to be fixed at -the hinder part of the second segment, the latter being hollowed out -so as to form for it a sheath. In the final larval stages this segment -is elevated, transversely compressed, and inclines forward, thereby -shielding the head as the larva moves about. When quiescent the neck -and head are wholly retracted, and as the former, when fully extended, -is very much longer than the depth of the second segment, it must -possess considerable elasticity. - -The larva feeds on the heart of the bud, and to reach this cuts away -the surface on one side till an opening is made sufficiently large to -admit its head; and as it feeds the second segment is firmly pressed -against the bud so as to permit the utmost elongation of the neck. Thus -it is enabled to eat out the contents of the bud, and only desists -when there remains but the empty shell. When so engaged the anterior -segments are curved up and the others rest upon the stalk of the plant, -but very small larvæ repose wholly in the bud. Not a single instance -has been observed where an open flower has been attacked, but the -destruction of buds is very extensive. - -But now comes the most remarkable part of the larval history of -Pseudargiolus. The whole upper part of the larva is covered with small, -glassy, star-shaped processes, scarcely raised above the surrounding -surface, from the centre of which spring short, filamentous bodies, -bristling with feathery-looking tentacles, which the caterpillar has -the power of protruding at will. It throws them out like the tentacles -of Papilio or the horns of snails. More singular still is an opening -upon the eleventh segment, placed transversely and surrounded by a -raised cushion, about which the granulations that cover the body of the -caterpillar are particularly dense. From the middle of this opening, -which is shaped like a button-hole, issues, at the caterpillar’s will, -a sort of transparent, hemispherical vesicle, from which is emitted a -good-sized drop of fluid, which the animal is capable of reproducing -when absorbed. - -[Illustration: PSEUDARGIOLUS BUTTERFLY. - -Larva Feeding on Bud of Black Snakeroot, and Guarded by Ants.] - -Four species of ants may be seen attending, not the small larvæ, -but those that have attained the nearly mature condition. They are -invariably found on or near the larva. Their actions, as they run -over the body, caressing with antennæ, evidently persuading the larva -to emit a drop of the fluid, are alike curious and interesting. Most -of this caressing is done about the anterior segments, and while the -ants are thus occupied, or rather, while they are absent from the last -segments, the tubes of the twelfth seem expanded to their full extent, -and so remain, without retracting or throbbing, until the ants come -hurrying along with great excitement and set foot or antenna directly -on or close by the tubes, when they are instantly withdrawn. The ants -pay no heed to the tubes. They seek for nothing from them, and expect -nothing. But they turn at once to the eleventh, caress the back of that -segment, and, putting their mouths to its opening, exhibit an eager -desire and expectancy. Suddenly a dull green, fleshy, mammilloid organ -protrudes, and from the summit of which comes a tiny drop of clear -green fluid, which the ants, some two or three perhaps standing about -it, lap greedily up. As the drop disappears, this organ sinks in at -the apex, and is so withdrawn. The ants then run about, some in quest -of other larvæ upon the same stem, some with no definite object, but -presently return and pursue the caressings as before. The intervals -between the appearance of the globule vary with the condition of the -larva. Where exhaustion by long-continued solicitings occurs, some -minutes elapse before renewal is effected, the tubes in the meantime -remaining concealed. Fresh larvæ, however, require little or no urging, -and globule follows globule, as many as six emissions in seventy-five -seconds, without even a retracting of the organ. Often the presence -of the ant, when the larva is aware of it, evokes, all unsought, the -sugary fluid. - -Ordinarily the tubes expand when the ants are absent from the last -segments, and are certainly withdrawn when they come near. These tubes, -from all appearances, serve as signals to the ants. When the latter -discover them expanded, they know that a refection is ready, and rush -to the opening in the eleventh segment where it is to be found. The -tubes certainly serve no other purpose. No visible duct appears in the -dome of the tube when largely magnified, and the ants seek nothing -from it or the twelfth segment. They cannot be used to intimidate, -or to frighten away enemies, for in the younger stages, when the -larvæ have the most to dread, neither the tube nor the organ in the -eleventh segment is available. The outward openings, and the orifice -in the eleventh segment, exist in the youngest larval stages, but -are functionless until the larva has nearly attained maturity. Ants -seldom attempt to caress or solicit young larvæ, but pass them by with -indifference, seemingly knowing that they cannot emit the secretion. -When an ant approaches one of these immature larvæ, the larva manifests -considerable annoyance, throwing up the hinder segments, as though the -ant was an enemy which it was desirous to get rid of. If the tubes -could now be thrust out, the ant would be attracted, rather than -repelled. - -But when the period arrives that the tubes are free, and the secretion -is ready to be ejected, which is perhaps just after the third -skin-moulting, and it cannot be earlier, the larva grows now quiet and -submissive, inviting the attentions of the ants, and rewarding their -antennal caresses. - -Four species of parasites affect these larvæ. Two are dipterous. These, -which are of the size of the common house-fly, deposit their eggs, -during the second larval stage, on the back, and near the junction of -the second and third segments. In process of time the grubs hatch and -eat their way into the larva, to emerge when the latter has become -fully grown, thus destroying its life. Another of these enemies is a -minute hymenopterous insect, whose egg is placed in the very young -larva, probably in the first stage of its life. The grub, in this case, -eats its way out of the half-grown larva, spins a silken cocoon, from -which in a few days issues the newly-matured parasite. The destruction -of larvæ by these, and very likely by other similar parasites, is -doubtless immense. But no parasite attacks, it does seem, the mature -larva, for, if it did, the grub of the former would live within and -destroy the chrysalis, and instead of a butterfly emerging therefrom -would come forth the parasite. Multitudes of chrysalids of other -species of butterflies are thus destroyed, but Pseudargiolus, at this -stage, appears to enjoy a singular immunity from enemies. - -Why this species, and doubtless many others of its family, are thus -favored, will soon be apparent. Ants may be seen wherever these larvæ -may be found, ever ready to receive the honeyed secretion when it -pleases the little creatures to eject it, but all the while exercising -the closest vigilance lest some wary ichneumon may come along and deal -a thrust of its ovipositor, which means misery and ultimate death to -their helpless friends. So intent is the larva, with its head buried -in the flower, upon its feeding, and so quietly and stealthily does -the ichneumon approach its intended victim, that hardly a single -individual would be left to tell the story of its existence were it -not for the ants. The larvæ know their protectors, it would seem from -their actions, and are able and willing to reward their services. The -advantage is mutual, and the association friendly. No compelling by -rough means on the one part is noticeable, and no reluctant yielding -on the other. All demonstrations made by the ants are of the most -gentle character. They caress, entreat, and as they drink in the sweet -fluid, lifting their heads to prolong the swallowing, they manifest to -the utmost their satisfaction and delight. It is amusing to see them -lick away the last trace, caressing the back of the segment with their -antennæ as they do so, as though they were coaxing for a little more. - -In Pseudargiolus the tubes are white, cylindrical, nearly equal in -size, rounded at summit, and studded with little tuberculations -from which arise the tentacles. These last are tapering, armed with -small spurs set in whorls, and stand out straight, making a white -hemispherical dome over the cylinder, but none of them fall below the -plane of the base of the dome, nor do they ever hang limp or lie across -the dome, as is the case in a European species. When the tube comes up -the rays rise in a close pencil, and take position as the dome expands; -but, on the contrary, when the tube is withdrawn, the top of the dome -sinks first, the rays coming together in pencil again. - -[Illustration: VIOLACEA BUTTERFLY. - -Larva, Protected by Ants, Feeding on Flower-buds of Dogwood.] - -_Lycæna pseudargiolus_ is subject to great variation, and occurs under -many forms, most of which having been regarded as distinct species. In -the early spring Violacea appears, and is characterized by dimorphism -in the female, some of that sex being blue, others black. This form, -which may be called the winter form, deposits its eggs in the clusters -of flower-buds of the Dogwood, the young larvæ obtaining their first -food by boring into the buds, but later on eating their way into -the ovaries. The flies that come from these larvæ late in May are -Pseudargiolus, which, as stated before, lays its eggs on _Cimicifuga -racemosa_, most of the resulting butterflies over-wintering to produce -Violacea. A small percentage of the May chrysalids give butterflies as -late as September, which are smaller than the parent-form, and also -differ therefrom in the more decided character of the marginal crescent -discal spots on the under side of the wings. There does not seem to be -any regular second summer brood, that is, there are but two regular -annual broods, the Violacea of March and the Pseudargiolus of May, the -individuals happening to emerge in July, August and September being -irregular visitants, for which the name of Neglecta has been given. The -females of the last form lay their eggs upon _Actinomeris squarrosa_, -and the chrysalids, thence resulting, give Violacea the next spring. - -Larvæ feeding on Dogwood vary much in color from those that feed on the -Black Snakeroot, few being white in the last stages, but nearly all -dull-crimson or green, or a mingling of the two. Nevertheless, a small -percentage of the larvæ on _Cimicifuga racemosa_ are also green or -crimson, though the most of them white. Ants do not seem to visit the -larvæ on the Dogwood, and on being introduced to them in confinement -treat them with indifference. On rare occasions tubes have been -discovered in the eleventh segment, fully expanded, and accompanied by -a pulsating movement, but no teasing or irritating availed to make them -appear. Even severe pressure applied to the sides of the segment failed -to force out any fluid. As with the fall food-plant, _Actinomeris -squarrosa_, the Dogwood is neither sweet nor juicy, and it is possible -that the larvæ feeding on these plants do not secrete the fluid. - -Eggs of this polymorphic species are round, flat at base, the top -flattened and depressed, and have a diameter of one-fiftieth of an -inch. Their ground-color is a delicate green, the entire surface being -covered with a white lace-work, the meshes of which being mostly -lozenge-shaped, with a short rounded process at each angle. In from -four to eight days the egg hatches into a larva, which is scarcely -one-twenty-fifth of an inch long, and whose upper side is rounded, -the under being flat. On each side of the dorsal line is a row of -white clubbed hairs, with similar ones at the base and in front of the -second joint, making a fringe around the body. The head is very small, -obovoid, retractile and black; the legs retractile, and the color a -greenish-white or brownish-yellow. - -The first moult occurs in from three to five days, the larva having -increased to twice its former length, while very little difference is -manifest in the coloration. In from three to five days the caterpillar -has again changed its skin, doubled its length, assumed more pronounced -colors, which are diversified in some with mottlings upon back and -sides, and developed along the back, from the third to the tenth joint, -a low, broad, continuous, tuberculous ridge, cleft to the body at -the junction of the segments, the anterior edge of each joint being -depressed, the sides incurved. The third moult takes place in three or -four days more, but there is very little change from the former period. -Three or four days subsequent to this change occurs the fourth or final -moult, and in five or six days from this the larva is ready to pass -into the chrysalis state. - -In its mature form the larva is about one-half of an inch in length. -The body is onisciform, flattened at base, furnished with retractile -legs, and has the back elevated into a rounded ridge, which slopes -backwards from the sixth segment. The sides are rather deeply hollowed, -and in the middle of each segment, from the third to the eleventh, is -a vertical, narrow depression. The last segments are flattened, the -last of all terminating roundly, its sides being narrowed and slightly -incurved, while the second segment is flattened, arched and bent -nearly flat over the head. Standing on the body is a ridge, tubercular -in nature, which in each segment from the third to the eleventh is -distinct and cleft to the body. In color, specimens vary. Some examples -are white, others decidedly greenish, but many have the posterior slope -of the second segment black or dark brown, while a few have most of -the back a dark brown, irregularly mottling a light ground, or with -small brown patches diffused over the back, but mostly on the anterior -segments. The entire surface is velvety. This appearance is caused by -minute stellate glossy processes, scarcely raised above the surface, -mostly six-rayed, and sending from the centre a concolored filamentous -spine a little longer than the rays. These stars are arranged in nearly -regular rows, and are light, except in the brown patches, where both -star and spine are brown. This velvet-like condition of the skin only -reveals its true composition under a magnifying glass. - -On the eleventh segment, near the posterior edge of the back, is a -transverse slit, in a sub-oval spot, from which proceeds a membranous -process; and on the twelfth, on each side, is a mark like a stigma, but -a little larger, from which proceeds a membranous tube, ending in a -crown of feathery tentacles, these three special organs being exposed -or concealed at the will of the larva. The head is small, obovoid, dark -brown, and is placed at the end of a long, pale green, conical neck, -which is rectractile, both neck and head being covered by the second -segment. - -Before changing to a chrysalis, the summer larvæ sometimes turn pink, -and from pink to brown, or become brown without the pink stage, -although others remain white or change to rusty brown. The body -contracts to about three-tenths of an inch and takes on a rounded form. - -The chrysalis is dark-brown or yellow-brown, but varying in color, the -wing-cases being dark or green-tinted. Two sub-dorsal rows of blackish -dots are found on the abdomen, and sometimes a dark dorsal line. In -the few instances in which the butterfly emerges the same season -the duration of this stage is from thirty to sixty days, but most -chrysalids pass the winter and mature in the spring. - -[Illustration: NEGLECTA BUTTERFLY. - -Larva Feeding on Central Florets of Actinomeris, and Guarded by Ants.] - -Now for a description of the butterfly. In general terms, the upper -side of the wings of the male is a deep azure-blue, with a delicate -terminal black border. On the apical part of the fore-wings the fringes -are black, but white and barred with black on the rest of these wings -and on the hind-wings. In the female the fore-wings have a broad, -blackish outer border, in some examples extending along the costa, -while the hind-wings have a blackish costa and a row of dark spots -along the outer margin. Usually the ground-color is a lighter blue -in the females than in the males. A pale silvery gray, with a silky -lustre, is the color of the under side of the wings, which is relieved -by a row of spots along the outer margin, each preceded by a crescent, -a curved row of elongate spots across the disk of the fore-wings, and -several spots on the basal part of the hind-wings, all the markings -being of a pale brown color. Violacea, the so-called winter form, has -the dark parts and crescents on the under side of the wings quite -prominent, but they do not, either in the outer border or in the basal -portion, coalesce. Pseudargiolus, the largest of the series, there -being but three forms in Pennsylvania, expands one and four-tenths -inches. The upper surface of the male usually has a terminal border -to the hind-wings of the same shade of blue as is visible on the -fore-wings, the middle area of the hind-wings being a little paler -than this border on the fore-wings. On the under side of the wings the -spots are much smaller than on the preceding form. Neglecta, which -resembles Pseudargiolus, and has the spots on the under surface small, -is a smaller form, never expanding more than one and one-tenth inches. -It is a summer form when there is more than one generation in a season, -ranging from Canada, through New England to West Virginia and Georgia, -and occurring also in Montana and Nevada. Violacea has a more extended -limit, being found in Alaska, British America, Ontario, Quebec, New -England to West Virginia, and Colorado, while Pseudargiolus ranges from -Wisconsin south to Tennessee, and on the east from Pennsylvania to -Georgia. - - - - -HIBERNATING BUTTERFLIES. - - -Early in March, and often while the snow yet lingers upon the -landscape, may be seen flying in and out among the forest-trees, or -lazily meandering along some deserted road through a thicket, the -beautiful Antiopa. Her rich crimson dress, so dark that it almost -seems black, with its buff-colored, sky-dotted border, serves to -distinguish her from her no less interesting, but smaller, sisters of -the Vanessa family of butterflies. But the Antiopas you then see are -generally ragged and shabby, which is not to be wondered at, when it is -considered that it is their last year’s dresses they wear, for late in -the preceding August they had their being, and all through the autumn -had been exposed to a hundred misfortunes or more while seeking their -living. - -But with the coming of frost and of cold comes the blighting of -flowers. A feeling of torpor in consequence steals over their once -bouyant spirits, and into some crevice in a barn or a wood-pile or -stone-heap they creep, and there sleep the winter away, till the -warmth of the sun from his southward-bound journey returning sets the -brown buds a-swelling, when out of their hibernating retreats they -leisurely crawl for a flying stroll through the awakening trees. Slow -and deliberate their movements are, as though some grave and momentous -event were dependent thereon. - -Never have I watched such actions, so human-like have they seemed, -than the conviction has gone home to my mind that they plainly evinced -a thought and a purpose, which had their origin, if not in a brain, -at least in one of the several ganglions which largely make up their -wonderful and somewhat complicated nervous machinery. - -No matter how low in intelligence she may rank, Antiopa has -nevertheless, or all experience is at fault, some general ideas of the -time and fitness of things. From her gloomy abode in the wood-pile she -has emerged, while all the gay butterfly world, barring a few familiar -exceptions, is asleep, for a tour of investigation. Her venture is -seldom ill-timed, for the violets have preceded her, and from their -delicately curved flagons proffer her food and refreshment. - -Cool and unhealthful as the mornings are at first, it is not till -the sun is nearly overhead that she leaves her retreat, for what of -plant-life exists is then, under the full force of his beams, at its -very best. Three or four hours a day, with few intervals of rest, -she is actively on wing, regaling herself with exercise and food, -thus storing little by little her body with some of the strength and -vivacity which were hers when the famine of winter overtook her and -forced her to retirement, so as the better to prepare for that work, -the propagation of her kind, which is the principal, but not the only, -aim of her existence. After four in the afternoon her presence is -scarce, as she has sought her old, or some other, place of shelter and -security. - -But when the days have grown longer and warmer, and the trees are -arrayed in their livery of green, she is in the fields bright and -early, and often ere the dew has disappeared from the grass and the -flowers. The most restless of beings she now is. Anon alighting upon a -bush for a momentary rest, then off for a dozen or more rods, when the -presence of some favorite blossom meets her quick sight and invites her -to pause, which she does, but only for a second to quench her thirst. -Where willows, or elms, or poplars abound, she is more frequently seen -later on in May, but flying more slowly and sedately than ever before. -The flowers pass unheeded. She seems in a dream, in a reverie. But all -of a sudden she quickens her speed. You look for the cause. There, in -the distance, another is seen, just like her in mien, some would-be -suitor for her hand and affections. He enters his suit, he pleads his -great love, and awaits her sweet pleasure. The answer is brief, and -soon by their actions, as high up in the air they circle and circle, -caressing each other with strokes of the antennæ, the story is told -that his love has been requited. A brief honey-moon of two or three -days and the love-scene is over, and the two settle down to the prosy -realities of everyday life. The male goes back to his old-time pursuit -of rifling the flowers of their honeyed treasures, whilst the female, -upon whom devolves the duty of providing for the offspring whom she -is never likely to see, looks scrutinizingly about for her favorite -trees, the poplar, the elm, or the willow. In her selection of a tree -a wonderfully keen discernment is shown, for she seldom, if ever, -mistakes her plant-species. - -[Illustration: MOURNING-CLOAK BUTTERFLY. - -Larva Feeding on Willow Leaf, and Chrysalis Suspended from Twig.] - -When a choice has been made, no time is expended in fruitless endeavor. -She proceeds at once to deposit her eggs. They are laid in a cluster -round the twig, and near the petiole of a young leaf, upon which the -newly-hatched larvæ are to feed. The eggs hatch inside of a week into -small black spiny caterpillars which, in their early stages, are very -social in their habits. Just before the final skin-moulting they -separate, each caterpillar living alone, the necessity for food, which -their very vigorous appetites now demand, being the impelling motive. -In a state of maturity the larvæ are two inches in length. They are -black, and minutely dotted with white, which gives them a greyish look. -A row of brick-red spots are found down the back, and their body is -armed with many black, rather long and slightly branching spines. The -head is black, and roughened with small black tubercles. - -Having completed their period of feeding, which they do in about four -weeks, the caterpillars attach themselves by means of their tails to -a fence-rail, a window-ledge, or some such place, and pass into the -chrysalis state, which is accomplished in about four days. In this -condition they present an odd-looking appearance. The head will be -found to be deeply notched, or furnished with two ear-like prominences. -The sides are very angular. In the middle of the thorax there is a thin -projection, somewhat like a Roman nose in profile, while on the back -are two rows of very sharp tubercles of a tawny color, which contrast -very markedly in coloration with the dark-brown of the rest of the -chrysalis. Fifteen days, when the weather is favorable, are sufficient -for the development of the imago, or butterfly. As maturity approaches, -the chrysalis-shell becomes quite soft, and the efforts of the imago -to free itself from this covering are facilitated by the ejection of a -blood-red fluid, which rots the case, while it acts, at the same time, -as a lubricant to the emerging butterfly. - -When these caterpillars are very abundant, as was the case in the -vicinity of Germantown some twenty-five years ago, every fence-rail -was hung with chrysalids, as many as a dozen being found upon a -single rail. The caterpillars even climbed up the sides of the houses -and suspended themselves from the window-ledges and the edges of the -overhanging shingles. When the butterflies emerged, great blotches -of the fluid bespattered the fences and houses as though the clouds -had rained great drops of blood. The willows and poplars were alive -with the caterpillars, and even the maples were overrun when there -came a scarcity of the leaves of the natural food-plants. Green -caterpillar-hunters were everywhere plentiful, and the writer could -have taken hundreds of specimens, but these highly-useful beetles made -a very sorry attempt in holding the enemy in check. - -Two broods of the caterpillars are raised, one in June and the other -in August, but the agencies by nature employed for their destruction -so effectually accomplish their mission that hardly a season brings to -my notice a dozen full-grown larvæ. _Vanessa antiopa_, as this species -is called by the scientific student, or Mourning-Cloak by people and -amateurs, is generally found through the whole of North America. In -England, where it is popularly called the Camberwell Beauty, because -specimens were first taken near Camberwell, it is the rarest of -butterflies; while on the Continent, as in this country, it is a very -plentiful insect. - - - - -LEAF-CUTTER BEE. - - -Few hymenoptera of the family of bees are so little known as the -Megachilidæ, or Leaf-cutters. They are stout, thick-bodied insects, -with large, square heads, and armed with sharp, scissors-like jaws, -which admirably fit them for the work they have to do in preparing -materials for the building of their homes. - -Our commonest species, _Megachile centuncularis_, is about the size of -the hive-bee. In gardens and nurseries where shrubbery abounds, it is -very prevalent, especially the female, which is readily distinguished -by a thick mass of stout, dense hair on the under side of the tail, -which serves as a carrier of pollen. The honey- and bumble-bees differ -materially from them, for they have the hind tibiæ and basal joints of -the tarsi very much broadened for that purpose. - -Megachile is by no means a remarkable-looking insect. Judging from -its very humble exterior, one can hardly believe it possessed of the -wonderful intelligence, as shown in its wise provisions for its young, -which it is found to display. - -Ordinarily the female, who is entrusted with the discharge of this very -essential business, places her nest in the solid earth underneath some -species of shrub. A vertical hole, three inches in depth, is dug, and -this is enlarged into a horizontal gallery, some five or six inches in -length. - -You should see the little creature in her never-tiring work of -preparing material for her nest. In and out among the roses she goes, -examining each leaf with the most critical care, and only desisting -from her labor when a suitable one has been chosen. She scans it -over and over, and at last from a position on its upper or nether -surface proceeds to cut a piece just fitted for her work, which, -heavy as it seems, is seized between the legs and jaws and carried on -swiftly-agitated wings to her burrow. - -[Illustration: LEAF-CUTTER BEE AT WORK. - -Two Tunnels Being Filled With Leaf-Cells.] - -Ten pieces or more, each differing in shape, are cut and borne away, -which the ingenious insect tailor twists and folds, the one within the -other, until is formed a funnel-like cone, whose end is narrower than -its mouth. So perfectly joined are the parts, that even when dry they -have been found to retain their form and integrity. A cake of honey -and pollen, for the use of some yet unborn Leaf-cutter, is deposited -within, and on this, in due time, is laid a single small egg. Nought -now remains but to wall up the cell. A circle of leaf, of the size of -the opening, is cut, and this is closely adjusted within the wall of -rolled-up leaves. Sometimes as many as four pieces are thus utilized. -A second cell, similarly built, is fitted to the first, and this is -succeeded by eight or ten others. When all is completed, the eggs being -laid and the cells all victualled, the hole of the shaft is closed with -the earth that was thrown out, and so carefully, too, that not a trace -of her doings remains to tell us the story. - -Like other insects, Megachile is occasionally prone to change. Some -laborers while digging, one early spring-day, some thirteen years ago, -about a cluster of plants of _Spiræa corymbosa_, a species allied to -the roses and cinquefoils, came unexpectedly upon a dozen or more cells -of this insect, arranged horizontally in layers, some three or four -inches below the ground’s surface. These cells were three-fourths of -an inch in length, one-fourth in width, and formed of the leaves of -Spiræa. Six circles, of three pieces each, constituted the cell, and -these were so arranged that each succeeding circle was made to project -but slightly beyond its predecessor. Six circular pieces, larger than -seemed needful, closed up the opening of each cell. That there was a -purpose here manifested was very apparent. This purpose, as it appeared -to the writer, was the better accommodation by the hollow surface of -the cell that was to follow, and the giving of greater firmness and -security to the entire structure. - -More curious, however, were some cells that were found the ensuing -year, which, in looks, resembled very closely those of Pelopæus, a -species of wasp, familiarly designated the Mud-dauber. These cells, -in numbers of three, were adherent to the rafters of a hardly-used -garret. In form, and in the peculiar combination of their pellets of -clay, they were the exact counterpart of the Mud-dauber’s. But the -curious funnel-like arrangement of leaves on the inside, so strikingly -characteristic of the Megachilidæ, was evidence of the most positive -kind that Pelopæus had nothing whatever to do with their putting -together. It bespoke a piece of work that was entirely beyond the -highest capability of her being to execute. - -Each of the included leafy cells was one and one-eighth inches in -length, and just barely exceeding one-fourth in width. Elliptical -pieces of Spiræa, less in size than those previously described, but -arranged in a similar manner, composed the several structures. Within -each, a dead but perfectly-formed Megachile, encased in a cylindrical -bag of silk, was found, so that there could be no possible doubt of the -builder. That this inner fabric was the labor of some mother Megachile -admits not of a scruple, for no other bee is known to construct a nest -of like character. But what of the outer enveloping fabric of mud? -It was clearly impossible for the skill of a Megachile, who, while -certainly fitted for tunnelling the ground and for snipping circular -and elliptical pieces of suited dimensions from leaves with all a -tailor’s precision, would find herself wofully unadapted for the making -of mortar and the building of nests, in imitations of tunnels, out of -pellets of mud that had to be moulded into consistency and shape by the -jaws of the builder. Pelopæus alone, of all hymenopters, possesses the -ability and means of making such structures. Megachile, who is known -to occasionally build under the boards of the roof of a piazza, might -sometimes in her quest of a place appropriate the discarded cells of -some pre-existent Pelopæus for nesting purposes, but she runs a very -great risk in so doing, for the Mud-dauber does not always build a -fresh home for her treasures, save when there is a lack of the last -year’s structures. Old nests, when found, are put in speedy repair and -made to do as invaluable a service. - - - - -BATTLE BETWEEN ANTS. - - -Whilst reclining one beautiful May afternoon in the shade of an oak -that stood on the outskirts of a thicket, my attention was arrested by -the activity and bustle presented by a colony of yellow ants, which -proved to be the _Formica flava_, so common everywhere. - -Scattered indiscriminately about were numberless larvæ in various -stages of growth, and not a few immobile pupæ, that had been brought up -from subterranean domiciles by thoughtful nurses, while here and there -were a dozen or more ants, but recently escaped from their mummy-cases, -basking in the sun’s warmth, preparatory to entering upon the duties of -the formicarium. - -The very picture of restlessness and anxiety were these full-grown -neuters. That something was transpiring, or was about to transpire, -seemed not unlikely, for ovæ, larvæ and pupæ were being quickly carried -to places of concealment in the earth, or hustled away among the -entangling and interlacing grasses. - -Looking about for the cause of all this excitement, the truth at once -became painfully apparent. Three large, burly ants, representatives of -_Formica subterranea_, a black species that is everywhere abundant in -wooded regions, had intruded their obnoxious presence into the happy -colony, bent, as it was evident, on pillage or slaughter. - -Were plunder the inspiring motive, these giant invaders were not slow -to learn that their weaker kin, though lacking their strength, could -more than match them in cunning and stratagem. - -Not daring to attack the foe, and being unwilling that any of their -number should be led into slavery, or suffer aught at the hands of -others, they immediately set to work to destroy all whom it was -impossible to protect. - -[Illustration: BATTLE BETWEEN ANTS. - -Young Destroyed by Nurses.] - -Detailed as most of the neuters seemed to be in looking after the wants -of the immature, there were a few observed running hither and thither -and seizing in their jaws the newly-developed, not to bear them out of -the reach of danger, as was at first supposed, but to kill them so as -to prevent them from falling a living prey into the hands of the enemy. - -Knowing the sympathy and affection which the nurses are ever wont to -cherish towards the objects of their care, this act of cruelty struck -me as something very astonishing and peculiar. - -Prompted by curiosity to know the nature of the wounds thus inflicted, -I placed upon the palm of my hand one of the wounded ants, and made, by -means of a microscope, a careful examination of its injuries. Above -and below the abdomen, between the second and third segments, two deep -wounds, which met each other in the interior, were plainly to be seen. - -Several cases of the kind were afterwards noticed. These were not -accidental occurrences, made through efforts to carry the young to -places of shelter. Possibly, through inexperience, accidents might -happen once in a long time, but to suppose that insects, accustomed to -handling their young as the neuters assuredly are, would be likely to -make such blunders, is too unreasonable to be entertained. Admitting -for argument’s sake that such things might occasionally occur, would -successive repetitions be expected? I apprehend not. But on the -supposition that a purpose was thereby subserved, the object had in -view warrants, it would seem, the means employed for its accomplishment. - -What the purpose was it will now be my aim to show. That many animals, -tame as well as wild, are wont to destroy disabled and wounded -companions, is well established by history. In many instances the -destruction is justified to preserve the herd or pack from the close -pursuit of enemies. “Instinct or reason,” as Darwin says, “may suggest -the expelling an injured companion, lest beasts of prey, including man, -should be tempted to follow the troop.” - -Audubon, in writing of the wild turkey, so abundant in his day, -observes substantially that the old males in their marches often -destroy the young by picking the head, but do not venture to disturb -the full-grown and vigorous. The feeble and immature being an -encumbrance, it is obvious that the watchfulness and attention which -they would require, were sympathy and affection the emotions by which -the males are actuated, would necessarily retard progress, and lead to -the destruction of the entire flock. Instinct or reason here operates -for individual and family good. - -Granting that instinct or reason does sometimes act for individual and -family preservation in the manner described, I am not willing to admit -that in every case that may arise in which the weak and disabled are -sacrificed, that it is done for the material benefit of the physically -able and robust. How the destruction of the weak and nearly-developed -ant can result in good to the colony, in view of the fact that not the -slightest effort to escape the danger by flight is undertaken, the sole -object being the hiding of the young, it is most difficult to conceive. - -There seems to be one of two theories, in the writer’s judgment, that -will, in anything like a satisfactory manner, account for this strange, -abnormal habit upon the part of an insect that has been proverbially -distinguished for its kind and affectionate disposition towards the -tender beings committed to its trust; either to attribute it to an -unwillingness and dislike to see its offspring made the servants of -a hostile race or the subjects of ill-treatment and abuse, or to the -survival of a habit of the past when its ancestors were a migratory, or -nomadic, species. - -That a feeling of repugnance does sometimes take possession of animal -nature when the objects of parental care and solicitude are, or are -about to be, reduced to slavery or confinement, and impels to actions -of cruelty, will be patent from what follows:-- - - A friend, several summers ago, having procured a pair of young - robins, placed them in a cage, which he hung from a tree-branch close - to his dwelling, where the parent-birds could have an opportunity to - feed them. All went well for a few days, when the parents, who had - busied themselves in the intervals of feeding in attempts to secure - their release, finding their efforts unavailing, flew away, but - only to return with something green in their bills, most probably - poisonous caterpillars, which they fed to their offspring. A few - minutes later and they lay in the bottom of the cage dead, but the - parents, as if conscious of what would result, flew away, and never - came back. - -May it not be that the parents, finding all efforts to restore their -young to freedom ineffectual, sought this method of saving them from -a life to which death must assuredly be preferable? Instances of like -character might be adduced by the hundred, but enough has been written -to show that, in the case of _Formica flava_, an unwillingness to allow -the humblest of the colony to be taken into bondage was the motive -which prompted the sacrifice. - - - - -NEST-BUILDING FISHES. - - -Not alone in color do fishes resemble birds. In the home-life and love -of offspring a close resemblance obtains. Many are nest-builders, -erecting structures quite as complicated as those of some birds, and -hardly less elaborate in design and finish. - -Floating along some woodland stream, or strolling along its -grass-fringed margin, we have watched the domestic life of the -Sun-fish, the _Eupomotis vulgaris_ of writers, that mottled, bespangled -beauty that seems always on hand to be caught by the angler in default -of more noble game. - -Where delicate grasses grow, and floating lily-pads cast their shadows, -there among the winding stems the Sun-fish builds its home. Moving -in pairs in and out among the lilies near the shore, as if jointly -selecting a site for a nursery, they may be seen. The spot is generally -a gravelly one, and, once determined upon, no time is lost in pushing -the work to a speedy conclusion. For several inches around the space -is cleared of stems or roots, and these are carefully carried away. -The smaller roots are swept aside by well-directed blows of their -tails, or by mimic whirlpools which the fishes, standing over the nest, -create by their fins. The stones are next taken up, the smaller ones -in their mouths, the larger being pushed out bodily, or fanned away by -the sweeping process, until an oval depression, with a sandy bottom, -finally appears. About the sides the stems of aquatic verdure, which -seem to have been purposely left, may be seen standing, and these now -naturally fall over, oftentimes constituting the nest a perfect bower, -with walls bedecked with buds, while the roof is a mat of white lilies -floating upon the surface. Here the eggs are deposited, the male and -female alternately watching them. - -[Illustration: NEST OF COMMON SUN-FISH. - -Male and Female Defending It from Attack of Cat-fish.] - -While the Sun-fish is always recognized as the most peaceful of the -finny tribe, and only chasing in wanton playfulness its neighbors, -it is otherwise when the passions are wrought to a high pitch of -excitement through the play of amatory influences in the spring-time. -Let a stranger, a bewhiskered cat-fish, approach the bower, and war -is at once declared. The little creatures snap at the intruder with -anger and defiance. Their sharp dorsal fins stand erect, the pectorals -vibrate with repressed emotion, while the violent movements of their -powerful tails evince a readiness and determination to stand by their -home at all hazards. Indeed, so vigorous is their charge, that even -large fishes are forced to retreat, and, as the Sun-fishes build in -companies, the intruder often finds himself attacked by a whole colony -of them. - -Nearly all the Sun-fishes are nest-builders, some forming arbors, as we -have seen, others scooping out nests on sandy shoals, while one, the -Spotted Sun-fish, is more democratic, affecting muddy streams, where, -on the approach of cold weather, it makes a nest in the muddy bottom, -and there it lies dormant till the coming spring. - -Who has not made friends with the Dace--_Rhinichthys atronasus_? He is -a veritable finny jester. We have watched him in his watery retreat, -and, perhaps unseen, have played the spy upon his domestic proceedings. - -Life is a gala time to these little fishes. They have seemingly never a -care or a bother. In jest they join in the chase of some curious minnow -that intrudes upon their presence, suddenly changing their course to -dash at some resplendent dragon-fly that hovers over the leafy canopy -of their home, and as quickly darting off again to attack some bit of -floating leaf or imaginary insect. - -All is not play, however, even among the Dace. The warm days of June -usher in the sterner duties, the nesting-time. Male and female join -in the preparation, and a locality, perhaps in shallow water in some -running brook, is selected. Roots, snags and leaves are carried away, -both fishes sometimes found tugging away at a single piece, taking it -down-stream, and working faithfully and vigorously until, in a few -hours, a clearing over two feet in diameter is the result. - -There the first eggs are laid. The male, who has retired, soon appears -from up-stream, bearing in his mouth a pebble, which is placed in the -centre of the clearing. Now they both swim away, but soon returning, -each bearing a pebble, that is also dropped upon the eggs. Slowly the -work proceeds, until a layer of clean pebbles apparently covers the -eggs. A second layer of eggs is now deposited by the female, and these -are covered by pebbles as the others had been, the industrious little -workers scouring the neighborhood for them, seemingly piling up eggs -and stones alternately until the heap attains a height of eight inches -or more. These heaps vary in shape, some being pyramidal, and others -dome-shaped. - -Such patience as these finny housekeepers manifest is not appreciated -by man. The gleaners of the golden fields, in whose waters our little -friends are found, have not discovered their secret, and think the -curious piles the washes of the brook itself. But their purpose is -the protection of their eggs. In swift-running streams, which these -fish are so wont to affect, the eggs would be washed away, and, -driven against rocks and snags, would be destroyed, or, even escaping -destruction, would, by the undulating movement to which they would -become subjected, be rendered impossible of incubation. Besides, were -they not thus protected, even though there was no danger of being -washed away, they would become easy prey to the attacks of carnivorous -fishes. - -Unlike as the Lamprey-eels are in structure to the Dace, yet in their -habits of erecting a nest they are very similar. Upon our Eastern -sea-board they are a common species, inhabiting both salt and fresh -water. In the early spring they follow the shad up the rivers, -occasionally preceding them, and search about for suitable localities -in which to deposit their spawn. They clean away the stones as the -Dace were seen to do, bending their long bodies in coils, which they -use in pushing aside the accumulation on the bottom. To the unlearned -the appearance of two Eels, each three feet in length, twisting and -seemingly coiling about each other, would be indicative of war. But -having cleaned for themselves a smooth spot, the Lampreys proceed -to place stones. Irregularly-shaped stones of small size are easily -and quickly transported in their mouths, but when stones that weigh -several pounds are to be brought, the tactics they adopt are worthy of -an engineer. As the spots chosen for the rearing of their submarine -castles are ordinarily subjected to a swift current, the largest -stones, which it would be thought impossible for them to move, are -looked for up stream. A suitable one found, and a favorable position -presented, the sucking mouth is fastened to it, and by a convulsive -effort, the tail of the fish being raised aloft, the heavy stone is -lifted from its place, the current pushing against the fish and stone, -bearing them along several feet before they sink. Another effort of -the fish, and the rock is again raised and carried down stream, until -finally, by repeated liftings and struggles, the ingenious, persevering -nest-builder is swept down to the nest, where the load is deposited. -This laborious work is carried on until the pile has attained a height -of two or three feet, and a diameter of four. No special form seems -to be necessary. The nest is generally oval, compact and well devised -to contain the eggs, which are carefully deposited within, thus -affording protection in its numerous interstices for the young when -they hatch. When about six inches long, the young _Petromyzon marinus_, -which is a strange little fellow, is devoid of teeth, and blind, and -possesses so many characteristics distinct from the parent, that for -a long time he was considered a separate species, and even assigned a -place in a different genus. Enormous nests are sometimes built. John -M. Batchelder, Esq., describes one, which he saw in the Saco River, -Maine, that was about fifteen feet long, and from one to three feet in -height, its position and triangular shape in vertical section being -well adapted for securing a change of water, and a hiding-place for the -young. The operation of building was very methodical, a hundred and -more Eels being at work upon the structure. Water-worn stones, chips -of granites and fragments of bricks, sometimes weighing as much as two -pounds and transported by a single individual, were utilized in the -building. - -[Illustration: BLACK-NOSED DACE. - -Constructing Their Nest of Pebbles.] - -More remarkable, however, than any previously described, are the nests -of the Fresh-water Chub, _Semotilus bullaris_, which is known in some -localities as the Stone Toter. This fish attains a length of about -fifteen inches. The finest nests are on the shores of Westminster -Island, but they are common on nearly every island that has a sandy, -gravelly shore among the many that make up the Thousand Islands. The -nest is a pile of stones, sometimes measuring ten feet across at the -base, four feet in height, and containing a good-sized cart-load of -stones, weighing in all perhaps a ton. Stones from small pebbles -to some four inches in length were used, and as some of the nests -are placed at considerable distances from the gravel-beds, and each -stone represented a journey, the amount of labor performed, when it -is considered that tens of thousands of stones must have been used -in the building, certainly was incredible. Each stone is brought in -the mouth of the Chub and dropped over the piles, one or more fishes -working at the same heap. Some plan is evidently followed in the work, -the first deposit of stones being small, and dropped so as to form a -circle or semi-circle. The largest heaps are undoubtedly the work of -successive years, the nests being annually added to during the last -of May or June, when the Chubs are seen lying in the heaps, at which -time the eggs are probably deposited. All the labor of piling up is to -protect them from predatory fishes, a necessary and wise provision, as -cat-fish, rock-bass, perch and others prey upon the eggs. - -In gravelly beds the Trout excavates a simple nest, a mere depression -in the sand, that is not at all incomparable to the nest of some -species of gulls. A furrow in the gravelly bottom of a river, often ten -feet in length, the depression being made as fast as it is required, is -the nest of the Salmon. In Canadian rivers these nests can be easily -distinguished by the lighter marking in the bottom. - -Few persons of the many who delight to drift along our sea-shores are -unfamiliar with the Toad-fish. So closely does he in shape and color -resemble a moss-covered stone that his enemies are deceived. Intrenched -among the weeds and gravel, which the mother-fish carelessly throws -aside, after the fashion of some of the gulls, the young are reared, -their yolk-sacs enabling them to cling to the rocks of the nest soon -after birth. There, under the watchful eye of the parent, they remain -until old enough to swim away. - -But the most vigilant of all nest-builders is the Four-spined -Stickleback--_Apeltes quadracus_. In some neighboring stream, that -sooner or later finds its way to the ocean, he may be found. There -are different species of these fish, but their architectural ideas -are pretty much the same. They vary mainly in the locations they -select for nesting. Some place the nests upon the bottom, concealed -among the sea-weed found there, while others hang theirs from some -projecting ledge, or swing it in the tide from the sunken bough of -some overhanging tree. As is unusual, the work of nidification is -solely performed by the male Stickleback, the female taking no part in -the labor. The spawning season having arrived, he, assuming a bright -nuptial lustre, shows remarkable activity in selecting a site for an -edifice, and transporting the building material thither. Fragments of -all kinds of plants, gathered often at a distance, are brought home in -his mouth. These are arranged as a sort of a carpet, but as there is -danger of the light materials being carried away by the current, they -are weighted down by sand to keep them in their places. Having entwined -them with his mouth to his complete satisfaction, he then glides gently -over them on his belly, and glues them with the mucus that exudes from -his pores. More solid materials, sometimes bits of wood, sometimes bits -of straw, which he seizes with his mouth, are adjusted to the sides of -the floor to constitute the walls. He is now very particular. If the -piece cannot be properly adjusted to his building, and he does not lose -patience in his efforts to fit it in, he carries it to some distance -from the nest and leaves it. After the side walls are erected, a roof -of the same materials with the floor is laid over the chamber. Firmness -is given to the whole structure by passing over it with his body, the -light and useless particles being fanned away by the action of his fins -and the vibratory movements of his tail. In carrying on his building -operations care is taken to preserve a circular opening into the -chamber, his head and a great part of his body being thrust therein, -thus widening and consolidating it, and rendering it a fit receptacle -for the female. When choosing material, the fish has been seen testing -its specific gravity by letting it sink once or twice in the water, and -if the descent was not rapid enough finally abandoning it. - -Of the exact method used by the fish in binding the nest together we -are indebted to Prof. Ryder. The male fish spins from a pore or pores -a compound thread, using his body to insinuate himself through the -interstices through which he carries the thread. The thread is spun -fitfully, not continuously. He will go round and round the nest perhaps -a dozen times, when he will rest awhile and begin anew. Its shape is -somewhat conical before completion. The thread is wound round and -round the nest in a horizontal direction, and when freshly spun is -found to consist of six or eight very thin transparent fibres, which -have alternated tapering ends where they are broken off. Very soon -after the thread is spun, particles of dirt adhere to it, and render it -difficult to interpret its character. The nest measures one-half of an -inch in height, and three-eighths in diameter. - -The time occupied in collecting materials and constructing the nest -is about four hours, and when all is ready the male starts out to -seek a female, and, having found her, conducts her with many polite -attentions to the prepared home. The eggs being deposited, the male -establishes himself as a guardian of the precious treasures, not even -suffering the female to approach it again. Every fish that comes near, -no matter how large, is furiously assailed. He gives battle valiantly, -striking at their eyes and seizing their fins in his mouth. His sharp -dorsal and ventral spines are very effective weapons in his defence. -Constant watchfulness upon the part of the male is needed, for, if he -go away for only a few moments, the sticklebacks and other fish lurking -in the vicinity rush in and devour the eggs in an instant. A whole -month he is occupied in providing for the safety of his offspring. -About the tenth day he employs himself in tearing down the nest and -carrying the material to some little distance. The fry may now be -observed in motion. And these the male continually nurses, suffering no -encroachment, and if the young brood show a tendency to stray beyond -bounds, they are driven back within their precincts, until they are -strong enough to provide for their own living, when both old and young -disappear together. - -But nothing in the lives of all these little nest-builders is more -interesting than the intelligence they display and the facility with -which they adapt themselves to circumstances. They seem to be able to -grasp almost instantly the conditions of the environment, and to employ -a wise discrimination in suiting them to their wants. Hardly two nests -are alike. Marked differences in details of structure, configuration -and surroundings are apparent, which prove that these creatures are -controlled by reason, rather than instinct, in the elaboration of their -homes. That they have some means of communicating their desires to -each other cannot be doubted. When the male has laid hold of a stem, a -pebble or a stick that completely baffles all effort at removal, his -mate seems summoned to his assistance, and the united strength of the -pair accomplishes the object to be gained. There is ever noticeable -in whatever the sexes undertake some concert of action which would -put to shame the boasted intelligence of man himself. The Sun-fishes, -as has been said, nest in companies. When the combined effort of two -individuals is unable to expel an invader, the entire community, as by -a single mighty impulse, rises up against the foe. There is evidence -of some form of society, even though simple in its organization, where -individual members league themselves together for mutual protection -and defence. Other examples might be cited to give the reader a -common-sense estimate of the comparatively high order of intelligence -that characterizes the actions of many of our fishes. - - - - -SLIPPERY AS AN EEL. - - -Eels are found in almost all warm and temperate countries, and grow -to a very great size in tropical regions. They are impatient of cold, -and hence do not exist in the extreme northern and southern parts -of the world. In many islands of the Pacific Ocean they are held in -considerable estimation, being preserved in ponds and fed by hand, but -in many civilized communities a strong prejudice prevails against them, -probably from their similarity to snakes, which prevents even a hungry -man from caring to eat such wholesome and nutritious food. - -Not one of our river fishes is so mysterious as the Eel, and although -much is now known that was involved in obscurity, yet there is still -much to learn of its habits, especially the manner of its reproduction. -Difference of locality, it is likely, may influence the Eel and cause a -difference of habit, an opinion which seems warranted from the various -and perplexing accounts that have been given of its customs by numerous -practical observers. - -During the hot, still and sunny days of June they are chiefly seen on -top of the water, wherever masses of aquatic weeds may be found, either -in the calm enjoyment of a sun-bath, or for the purpose of feeding upon -the myriads of gnats, moths and flies that seek the plants for rest or -food, and which by unavoidably damping their wings become easy prey -to their ambushed enemies. At night, similar retreats are affected -for like purposes. Floating masses of detached weeds that the eddying -stream has wound and kept in one place are sought in warm, stilly -weather, but in blowing, cooler or rainy weather they forsake such -places for the still, deep ditches. If a flush of water comes, and a -little, shallow stream, running from or into the main river, becomes -fuller than usual, there they resort in vast numbers, evidently pleased -with the delicious change, only to remain as long as its freshness -continues. - -Like many other fishes, Eels are very tenacious of life, and can live a -long time when removed from the water, owing to a simple and beautiful -modification of structure, which permits them to retain a sufficient -amount of moisture to keep the gills damp and in a condition to perform -their natural functions. They have been seen crawling over considerable -distances, somewhat snake-like in their movements, evidently either in -pursuit of water, their own dwelling-place being nearly dried, or in -search of some running stream in whose waters they may reach the sea -after the customary manner of their race. Multitudes of Eels, both old -and young, some of the latter scarcely six inches in length, have been -seen crawling up the banks of a creek, apparently without any purpose, -and over the smooth surface of a projecting rock, with all the ease -of a fly moving over a ceiling. So active were the little ones as to -defy, unless the hand was moved with extreme rapidity, their capture. -Vast numbers of these little Eels are in the habit of proceeding up the -rivers in the spring-time. In some places in England they are called -Elvers. They are caught in immense quantities, and scalded and pressed -into masses termed Eel- or Elver-cake. When dressed these little Eels -afford a luxurious repast. Towards the latter part of summer these -fishes migrate towards the sea, being capable of living in fresh or -salt water with equal ease, the mouths of rivers constituting favorite -localities. Even in our seaport towns and marine watering-places the -common river Eel is caught by those who are angling in the sea for fish. - -Various modes of capturing Eels are adopted by man. Bobbing, or -clodding as it is sometimes called, is a very common and successful -method, consisting in bunching a number of earthworms upon a worsted -string, and lowering it near the place where the fishes are supposed -to be feeding. So eagerly do the voracious fish seize the bait, and so -fiercely do they bite, that they are pulled out of the water before -they have time to collect their thoughts and disengage their teeth from -the string. Night-lines, which are laid in the evening and taken up in -the morning, are another plan. But the most successful method is by -spearing. The spear used for the purpose is not unlike the conventional -trident of Neptune, except that the prongs are four in number, -flattened, slightly barbed on each edge, and spread rather widely from -their junction with the shaft. This is pushed at random into the muddy -banks where the Eels love to lie, and when one is caught, its long -snake-like body is wedged in between the jagged prongs and lifted into -the boat before it is able to extricate itself. Almost any kind of food -that it can master, whether aquatic or terrestrial, is eaten to satisfy -the creature’s most voracious appetite. Even mice and rats fall victims -to its hunger, and an Eel is recorded to have been found floating dead -on the water, having been choked to death by a rat which it had essayed -to swallow, but which proved too large a morsel for its throat. - -So remarkable is the tenacity of life which this fish possesses, -that after the creature has been cut up into lengths, each separate -piece will move as if alive, and at the touch of a pin’s point will -curve itself as though it felt the injury. When all irritability has -ceased, the portions will flounce vigorously about if placed in boiling -water, and even after its influence has ceased will, upon the addition -of salt, jump about as vigorously as before. There can be no real -sensation, let it be understood, as the spinal cord has been severed -and all connection with the brain, which is the seat of sensation, has -been cut off. - -How the Eel reproduces its kind has long been a subject of discussion. -Some held that the young is produced in a living condition, and others -that it is hatched from the egg. The matter has, however, been set at -rest by the microscope, which shows that the oily-looking substance, -generally called fat, which is found in the abdomen of the Eel, is -really an aggregation of eggs, and that these objects, minute as they -are, and which are not so large as the point of a pin, are quite as -perfect in their structure as the eggs of a moth or a bird are seen to -be to the naked, unaided vision. - -_Anguilla rostrata_, as the Common American Eel is technically known, -is abundant in the United States, living in fresh-water streams, but -depositing its eggs, often eight millions to a single fish, in the -ocean, the young ascending the rivers. Eels are devoid of ventral -fins. Their scales, which are very minute, are covered with a thick, -slime-like material. Under the microscope each scale is beautifully -ornamented, and the exquisite pattern formed by the scales on the skin -may be readily and effectively seen if a bit of it, when fresh, be -placed on the window-glass and allowed to dry. The sexes are difficult -to distinguish; the females have the highest dorsal fin, smaller eyes, -and a lighter color than the males, while the snout is generally -broader at the tip. - -When contiguous to the sea, as in a pond near Wells, on the coast of -Maine, the Eels invariably go down into salt water at night. As the -connecting stream is narrow, the sight is remarkable, thousands filling -the channel, many of whom, when alarmed, leaving the water and passing -over the dry rocks to the ocean. Eels are not the silent creatures -which many persons suppose them to be. They frequently utter a sound, -expressed by a single note, which is more distinctly musical than the -sounds made by other fishes, and which has a clear metallic resonance. -They are of slow growth, scarcely reaching the length of twelve inches -during the first year, but subsequently attaining to large dimensions, -the preserved skins of two Eels, which Mr. Yarrall saw at Cambridge, -England, weighing together fifty pounds, the heavier being twenty-seven -pounds in weight. - -[Illustration: COMMON AMERICAN EEL. - -How It Seeks New Feeding-Grounds.] - -Fish, as a rule, do not live more than a few minutes out of the water. -An Eel, however, will remain alive for many hours, and even days, in -atmospheric air, provided it is laid in a damp place. Now, if one -be carefully watched when placed upon dry land, it will be observed -to pout out the cheeks on both sides of its face. Underneath this -puffed-out skin will be found the gills, and the skin which covers them -will be seen to be so arranged as to form a closed sac, which the Eel -fills with water, and so keeps the gill-fibres moist. This wonderful -contrivance enables the Eel to come out of the water, and to travel, so -to speak, by land. Thus Eels are often found in outlying ponds of human -construction, where they were never placed by the hand of man. Finding -old quarters uncomfortable, they take in a good supply of water, and -exchange them for the better, not by repeated leaps towards the water, -as some fish are known to do, but by a smooth, uniform snake-like -progression. - -That some fishes should leave the water and travel overland is, -perhaps, not more remarkable than that some birds, the ouzel for -example, should leave their natural element and fly into and under -the water. Whoever knows the hidden paths of the marsh has doubtless -watched the brown-hued Eels wriggling their way through the grass -from one pool to another, especially at night, leaving their home and -wandering about, seemingly unconscious whither their pilgrimage will -end. - -“Slippery as an Eel” is proverbial. Many a person has, by his slick, -cunning ways, succeeded in eluding the law and escaping justice, -affording an apt illustration of the character of the animal about -which we have been talking, but the slipperiness of the Eel is not -given to it that it may take some unlawful advantage of its neighbors, -but that it may the more readily slip from the grasp of a more powerful -enemy, or the more easily make its way into the muddy depths of the -pond or stream which it so very much affects. So it will be seen that -while this slippery character in the one is protective, in the economy -of nature, for a wise and laudable purpose, yet in the other it but -secures to the possessor the getting of an ignoble gain and the ruin of -a once proud name. - -While these agile denizens of aquatic life are selfish and voracious -almost beyond precedent, and apparently more concerned in feeding than -in anything else, there are certainly some traits in their character -which are redeeming features. Low as they are in the scale of piscine -existences, occupying the very lowest family of the Anguillidine -Apodes, they are none the less susceptible to the human influence of -kindness. They grow accustomed to man when good is at the basis of -his actions, and have been known to accept food from his hand. They -remember the face of a friend, and when it is presented at the door of -glass, so to speak, that opens the way to their home, they come without -fear or suspicion showing itself in their movements. Even the sound -of the voice of a benefactor awakens a sympathetic response in their -bosoms. - - - - -RANA AND BUFO. - - -Belonging to the lower vertebrates is a family of animals called -scientifically Ranidæ, but which are, popularly speaking, best known as -frogs. They are queer-looking creatures, scarcely met with in Australia -and South America, but reaching their highest state in the East Indies. -They are capable of enduring great changes of heat and cold, and can -live on land as well as in water, provided they have the amount of -moisture necessary to preserve the suppleness of their skins. Salt -water is fatal to the frog in any stage of its existence. - -_Rana clamata_, the lusty croaker of the summer pond, is our most -familiar species. He may be recognized by the colors of his dress, -in which green, bronze, gold and silver play important parts, and by -the ear-splitting character of his vocal intonations. The glandular -ridges down the skin of his back, together with his strange coloration, -singularly fit him for his home. Imitations of the stems of plants -are seen in the darker ridges, and their leafage in the green color -of his coat. The silver of his vest has the glimmer of the water in -which he bathes, and the moist earth seems to have left its stain upon -his brownish feet and markings, while the yellow of the several badges -that adorn his person in being like the stamens and pistils of the -surrounding flowers, and of the hue of many buds and blossoms, adds -largely to his protective display. Thus is the frog in his natural -haunts protected by his garments, and, unless he stirs or is betrayed -by his full, bright eyes or the palpitation of his breast, he is not -likely to be observed. - -Four fingers or toes are found upon the anterior extremities, while -those of the posterior are five in number and webbed. The front legs -are much shorter, smaller and weaker than the hind ones, which are -largely developed, and thus serviceable in swimming and leaping. - -Though the frog is possessed of a back-bone, yet he has no ribs. -Being ribless, he cannot expand and contract his chest in breathing, -but must swallow what air he requires. In swallowing the air he must -close the mouth and take the air in only by the nostrils; therefore, -oddly enough, if his mouth is forcibly kept open, he will smother. The -frog’s breathing, a fact not generally known, is partly through his -skin, which gives off carbonic acid gas; and moisture, therefore, is -just as essential to his skin as it is to the gills of a fish. Damp, -rainy weather is his extreme delight. When the rain falls, out come -the frogs. Their skin absorbs moisture, which is stored up in internal -reservoirs, and some of this water, when these timid creatures are -alarmed by being suddenly seized, is ejected, but I do not think that -it is purposely so done, as the water is not, as some people have -fancied, of a poisonous nature. Frogs have no poison-sacs, and in truth -no weapons of any kind. - -Open a frog’s mouth, and you will find but a few tiny teeth in the -upper jaw and palate, which are useful for the partial grinding up of -horny insects. His tongue you will discover to be a very odd affair, -which is fastened at the front end of the mouth, the hinder part being -free and hanging down the creature’s throat. This organ is covered with -a glue-like secretion. When an insect is to be captured, it is snapped -forward from the mouth, and, striking the insect, which it seldom fails -to do, causes it to adhere as to bird-lime. - -A few thoughts now about the life-history of the frog. From egg to egg -is the story. In roundish masses, upon sticks lying in water, or upon -the leaves and stems of submerged water-plants, are the eggs deposited. -The creature that comes from the egg is no more like a frog than a -caterpillar is like a butterfly. It has a large head, small tail, -branched gills, and is devoid of limbs, resembling, in this stage, more -a fish than a frog. This is its early childhood, or tadpole state. It -can only live in water now, and swims and feeds from the very moment it -leaves the egg. Change in form almost immediately begins, the branched -gills being drawn within the neck and hidden, a pair of fore-legs -beginning to bud, and subsequently a pair of hind-legs, which push out -much faster than the fore-legs. As the legs grow, the tail is gradually -absorbed and disappears. The interior of the body meanwhile changes, -the lungs and heart becoming reptilian. When the gills and tail are -gone, and the legs are fully formed, the once-swimming tadpole hops out -of the water a perfectly-formed frog. - -When first the tadpole emerged from the egg, it ate the jelly-like -cover. Then soft animal and vegetable matters, with the strengthening -of its pair of horny jaws, began to be devoured. Insects later on, and -even its own kith and kin, became its food. The fare of the adult frog -is almost exclusively insect in character, although necessity sometimes -drives him to make a meal out of some of his weaker brethren. - -Seated in cool, leafy shadows, not far from his favorite stream or -pool, the frog watches with his great, black, gold-ringed eyes for such -insects as good fortune shall bring to his retreat. As one hovers near, -out flies his limber, sticky, ribbon-like tongue, true to its mark, and -the hapless insect, adhering to the viscid projected ribbon, is gently -and cleverly deposited in the open throat, the frog maintaining all the -while an air of calm, superior self-satisfaction, as if he had not so -much satisfied an appetite as fulfilled the mission of ridding nature -of a superfluous insect. - -A most harmless, timid and interesting animal is the frog, and often -most unfortunate. He is the legitimate mark for all the missiles that -can be thrown at him by urchins wandering about his native pool. -Snakes make him their prey, and he is always in mental fear lest some -insidious serpent shall take him unawares, or his musings shall be -suddenly cut short by the stately progress of some swan or goose, -sailing over the limpid water, or searching the green herbage wherein -he sits concealed. - -[Illustration: RANA CLAMATA, OR GREEN FROG. - -Lusty Croaker of the Summer Pond.] - -That he is susceptible of being trained, there can be no question. Man -is not always viewed by him as an inveterate enemy, nor does he always -dive headlong into the pool when his presence is near. He has been -known to cultivate man’s acquaintance, and to live on friendly terms -with him. Some three years ago a tiny frog was taken from a swamp by a -friend and placed in a small stream of spring water that passed close -to the house where the writer was summering. A dozen times a day the -little frog was dipped up by the hand from the bottom of the stream, -and forced to endure down the head and back the tenderest caresses. A -few insects were then offered as food in conciliation for the liberty -taken, which the little frog was only induced to accept after a great -deal of persuasion, when he was carefully put back into his watery -bath. In the space of a week, the frog had become so attached to his -friend, that he would leap into his outstretched hand and take his food -without the least distrust or fear. Even the voice of the master was -recognized by the frog, and, when heard in the distance, was the signal -for the strangest behavior. Froggie would leap out of the water upon -a bare stretch of earth, peer off in the direction whence the sound -came, and there await his master’s arrival with restless anxiety. The -strongest bond of friendship seemed to unite the two. Not only was the -frog able to recognize the voice of his friend, but he knew him in -person as well. Repeated efforts were made by the writer to gain the -attention and good-will of the frog, but all his advances were received -with the utmost indifference. - -While the species which I have just described represents the aquatic -Ranidæ, the Wood-frog, its near kin, represents a branch of the family -which prefers dry situations, except in breeding times, when the eggs -must be deposited in water. The Wood-frog is somewhat smaller than -the Bull-frog, and is clad in olive-green and brown colors, which are -in perfect keeping with the coloration of dead leaves and dry twigs. -There is a large black patch on the side of the head around the big -ear-drum, which seems still further to distinguish him from his cousin. -He is a very shy and suspicious creature, and makes a prodigious jump -at the first intimation of danger, his leaps being so enormous that it -is very difficult to capture him. When upon the ground, he can hardly -be discerned from the dry vegetation around. By hiding in damp moss or -in decayed logs, and in little hollows in the ground, he is enabled to -maintain the moisture of his skin. He avoids the sunshine, and keeps -close to the earth. - -Another curious Rana is the Tree-frog. He is smaller than any of his -cousins, and may be known by his bright green dress, which is spotted -with black, and by a membrane stretched between his toes, which gives -him a broad, flat surface, while it helps to sustain him as he leaps, -somewhat after the fashion of a flying squirrel, from branch to branch. -In tropical regions, where many of the trees are bedecked with gorgeous -blossoms, Tree-frogs appear in the gayest of colors, the splendor of -their garb being protective in such surroundings. - -Dressed in black and light brown, and living in marshes in the -Eastern United States, is another species--the Swamp-frog. His voice -is a prolonged croak, which, to the practised ear, can be readily -distinguished from the bawl of Clamata, or the roar of the Bull-frog. - -Cats, geese, hawks, vultures, owls and other animals eat frogs, and the -luckless creatures can scarcely appear without finding an enemy. But -nature, who is a very wise and considerate mother, provides a means for -balancing this great destruction of their forces in endowing them with -wonderful reproductive organs. So prolific are frogs, that when the -little black tadpoles appear, so thickly are they huddled together that -the pond seems literally alive with their swimming forms. - -In the same class of animals to which the frogs belong, as well as to -the same order, but to a different sub-order, are placed the toads, -somewhat remote cousins of the frogs. As the frog is well-known about -our ponds, so the toad is a constant denizen of our groves and gardens. -The frog, you have been told, is a species of Rana, and now I shall -introduce to you the toad as a species of Bufo. In general anatomy they -are alike. Their eggs and young are closely similar, and the stages -of growth from egg to adult form are nearly identical. When the adult -stage is attained the frogs and toads are very tiny creatures, but, -small as they are, they are readily distinguishable from each other by -the conformation of the snout, and by the larger development of the -hind-legs of the frog. Their chief differences will now be enumerated. -The toad has no teeth, but the frog, as has been stated before, has -teeth in both the upper jaw and the palate. Similarly attached is the -tongue, but the free end of the frog’s tongue is forked, and the toad’s -entire. The skin of the toad is usually warty, while the frog’s is -smooth. A rounder body, shorter hind-legs, less fully webbed feet and -more rounded snout still further distinguish the toad from the frog. -Their soft moist skin shows them to be Amphibians. The absence of tails -places them among the Anuran, or Tailless Amphibians. Thus far they -agree well together, but differences loom up upon careful examination, -and we are compelled to say of the frog that he belongs to the Ranidæ, -and of the toad that he belongs to the Bufonidæ. Of the two animals, -the toad is by far the more interesting and useful. - -The toad is almost unrestricted in his territorial range. He hops -through the tropics and the temperate zones, and well up into the -polar regions. Everywhere he is the same inoffensive, gentle, humble, -useful and generally silent creature. But like his human brother he -has his faults. He has a great fondness for bees. Happy is he when, -brigand-like, he can stand by the highway of the bees and capture them -as they return to their waxen city. Their wealth of honey he does not -demand as a ransom, but swallows the little creatures themselves, alive -and whole, and digests them at leisure. Bee-eating seems his only -fault. Not only the hive-bee, but other insects as well, share his -attention. Millions of noxious beetles and bugs are devoured, and the -world is the richer by thousands of bushels of fruit and vegetables. -The good he accomplishes largely outweighs the mischief he commits. -So ceaselessly and swiftly he swallows his game, that a grasshopper’s -legs or a sphinx’s antennæ may often be seen sticking out of his mouth, -while the carcass itself is well down in his throat. French gardeners -so appreciate his utility that he is brought to market and sold for a -pittance to such as may need his services. - -[Illustration: COMMON AMERICAN TOAD. - -How He Manages a Difficulty.] - -Toads can be tamed and taught to eat from the hand. They are easily -beguiled with sugar and with bread that has been soaked in milk, but, -like a captious child, they eat only the middle out of the slice, and -leave the crust. We once saw a toad, a noble fellow he was, who, at a -certain hour of the closing day, would come from his gloomy retreat -to receive at the hands of man his supper of flies, which he had been -trained to catch on the throw. So unerringly would his tongue dart out -at the opportune moment, that he seldom, if ever, shot wide of his -mark. It is amusing to observe him when, in his greed and haste, he has -attempted to swallow a huge grasshopper whose legs will not accommodate -themselves to his peculiar gape of mouth. How he swallows and twists -and contracts the walls of his throat, but the legs seem unmanageable. -He does not give up, or endeavor to eject the half-swallowed body, -but ponders the matter over and over. A look of delight beams out of -his eyes, that shows he has managed the problem. Up goes to the mouth -the right fore-leg, and, in less time than it takes to chronicle the -event, the obstreperous insect is pushed into the stomach. - -Some curious myths are told of the toad. One says he can live for -hundreds of years encased in clay or in stone. No more true of Bufo -is this than of Rana, his cousin. Another asserts that his skin, -when handled, is productive of warts, and that the fluid he emits, -which serves but to moisten his body, for without moisture he could -certainly not live, and to protect him from enemies, is poisonous in -character. His power to produce warts, we cannot admit. But that the -fluid he exudes, if not poisonous to touch, is offensive to animals, -there can be no doubt. We are led to this conclusion from the following -considerations: Dogs, young animals especially, are prone to attack -the toad, but they never want to repeat their experience. The toad’s -exudation so affects the salivary glands of the dog as to cause him to -froth and foam like an animal with rabies. A case is recalled where -a dog, that had taken a toad in his mouth, became almost frantic. -This dog never afterwards was well. His whole system apparently -had become diseased, and, in less than a year, he had wasted to a -complete skeleton, when death relieved him of his sufferings. Another -allegation, that the toad has a jewel in his head, has been believed -from very ancient times. The story doubtlessly originated from the -beauty of the toad’s eyes, the irides being a rich flame-color, which, -in the dusk of the even, shine like burnished gems. - -When hatched the young of the toad are of a jet black color, and are -very active. Their changes are made very early and in the same manner -as those of the frog. They are quite small when arrived at the perfect -toad state. Their legs produced and their tails absorbed, they quit -the water and set out on long journeys. Unlike the frog, which is a -home-stayer, the toad is a born vagrant. They travel chiefly by night, -hiding under stones and herbage during the day. If clouds cover the -sky, they take heart and joyously hop forth upon their pilgrimage. -During a long drouth they mysteriously disappear, but if a rain comes -on they suddenly come out by hundreds, and this has given rise to the -tale of a “shower of toads.” - -Worms, as well as flies, etc., constitute a toad’s bill of fare. After -a rain toads and worms, it would seem, are mutually inspired to take -their walks abroad, and many an unfortunate worm makes its way into -the toad’s maw. Dead insects are at a discount with him, and he views -with suspicion anything that shows not the active wriggling principle -of life. When winter comes on the toad, like the frog, goes into -winter-quarters. Since the young toad reaches its adult size in the -autumn, it is forced to pass the first period of its grown-up life in a -sleep, or coma, in some hole or burrow which it has found or fashioned -in the earth. Sometimes toads creep into rock-crevices, or into hollows -in logs and trees, and being found in these places in the early spring -are hastily supposed to have been prisoners for many years. - -In the process of growth the skin of the toad, as well as that of the -frog, becomes too small, and hence is cast off. As the shedding-time -approaches, the white, green and brown colors become dull, and a -peculiar dryness appears. A new skin is now forming under the outgrown -one, and presently the latter splits half down the middle of the back -and along the under part of the body. By a series of violent twitchings -of the toad the old skin is made to wrinkle and fold along the sides. A -hind-leg is now tucked under a fore-arm, and by a good pull the animal -is soon out of that leg of his trousers. The other leg is removed in -similar fashion. Putting one hand in his mouth and giving a jerk, off -comes the covering of that hand and arm, like a discarded glove. He has -now but to take off the other, and he is free. Relieved of his dress he -neither sells nor gives it away, but rolls it up into a neat solid ball -and swallows it. The frog strips off and disposes of his outgrown skin -in a similar way. - -Strange to say, toads and frogs can change to some extent the color -of their skin to suit their homes. Kept in the dark with dark -surroundings, toads become darker in color, while those that are kept -in light with white accessories become lighter. The color of the toad -changes more slowly than that of the frog. It is not the arrangement of -the color that alters, but merely a change from light to dark. - -What has been said applies to our Common American Toad, the _Bufo -Americana_ of the books. Let us now look at some curious specimens -of the Bufonidæ. The Pipa, or Surinam Toad, does not lay her eggs -in water, but places them on her back. A fold of skin rises up and -encloses each egg in a separate cell, until the young have not only -been hatched, but have also passed through all their metamorphoses, and -come out fully formed. Another toad, abundant in Europe and Asia, is -largely colored with bright crimson, and the father-toad carries the -little ones in separate cells fastened to his hind-legs like chains. -The young change to their perfect shape in these cells, and with the -withering away of the cells the young toads hop out, able to take care -of themselves. - -Somewhere I have said that toads are generally silent. A little toad -about three inches long, called a Natter-jack, is common in England, -and is a noted singer. His “gluck-gluck, gluck-k-k,” can be heard any -night. The Green Toad, well known on the Continent, is not so noisy as -the Natter-jack, but has a low, moaning cry. - -All the Tree-toads, or Hylidæ, have clear, shrill voices, and are -fond of singing serenades. In the spring the Common Toad takes to the -water and there sings very loudly. The loud continuous trill that we -hear in swamps in spring-time is made by toads, and not by frogs, as -is generally believed. Another toad with a voice is the Spade-foot. -This Toad is rare, though widely distributed. It is remarkable for its -feet, formed for digging, its subterranean habits, and its queer way -of appearing and disappearing very suddenly. After a rainy season the -Spade-foot will emerge from its hiding-place, attract attention by its -loud cries, swarm by hundreds about the ponds, lay innumerable eggs, -and vanish. But while thousands of eggs are laid, scarcely any hatch, -for most of them perish from being laid so near to the water’s edge as -to become dried up on the subsidence of the water. - -Thus we find that toads have three different methods of life. Some live -on trees, but seldom appear upon the ground. Others are underground -dwellers, and hardly ever come to the surface. But the Common Toad, and -his numerous kin, are dwellers in the ground, hiding among grass and -other herbage when asleep, or when the sun is too intense for their -comfort. But all toads, excepting the two varieties mentioned above, -which carry their young on their bodies, repair to the water to drop -their eggs, and the young live in the water until they have attained -the adult state. - - - - -OUR NATURAL ENEMIES. - - -No animal, perhaps, is so little known and understood as the snake. -This is not because its study has been neglected or overlooked, as -our scientific institutions are replete with fine collections of most -of the reptiles, and exhaustive works upon their habits and customs. -Yet, notwithstanding this, the snake continues to be the subject of -ever-recurring stories, fabulous in the extreme, that seem handed down -from generation to generation. Strange to say, many of these stories -are current among those who, from the nature of their lives, would -be expected to be well and accurately informed on the habits of the -animals. Farmers and horticulturists are plentiful who religiously -believe that the Milk Snake, the beautiful _Ophibolus clericus_, -deprives milk-giving animals of their supply of milk. A statement often -seen, and that has many believers, is that the Whip-snake of the South -seizes its tail--which is supposed to have a sting--in its mouth, and -rolls away in the form of a wheel, stopping suddenly and striking the -enemy with the sting. Such fables are current by the score, and denial -only strengthens belief. - -More than a hundred species of snakes, nearly all having a wide -geographical range, are found in America, north of Mexico. They -constitute the first order, Ophidia, of reptiles, and have long, -cylindrical bodies, are footless, without a shoulder-girdle, and -invested with a coat of scales, which is shed in the summer months. -Snakes have no eyelids in the strict sense of the term. Their eyes are -permanently covered by a delicate membrane that takes the place of the -lid, and this explains the stony stare, so disagreeable to many, that -all snakes have. - -The skeleton of snakes is so arranged as to allow the greatest freedom -and flexibility. Numerous pieces of bone, hollow in front and convex -behind, make up the long tapering backbone, which literally works on -a ball-and-socket plan. Articular facets, that lock into each other, -are found upon the processes of the vertebræ, and these strengthen and -give to the backbone a greater degree of flexibility. A more remarkable -arrangement, however, is found in the head, which enables the snake -to prey upon animals that are larger than itself. The jaws seem a -combination of elastic springs, having no gauge to their tension, the -quadrate bones connecting the lower jaw with the skull being movable, -thus allowing that enormous gape with which all are familiar who have -seen a snake swallow its prey. Besides this, the bones of the jaw -itself and palate are more or less movable, also tending to the larger -distention of the throat. - -As snakes do not tear or mutilate their prey, their teeth are not -set in sockets, but serve merely to poison and stupefy the prey, or -to prevent its escape, acting as hooks by which the body is hauled -over the victim. The bones of the lower jaw, as we have seen, are not -fastened closely to each other; so in swallowing prey the teeth on one -side are advanced, and then those on the other side, and so on until -the victim is hauled, hand over hand, as it were, into the snake’s -throat. - -Poisonous snakes, such as the rattlers, have two long, sharp fangs, -each compressed and bent up, and forming a hollow tube, open at both -ends. The upper portion of the hollow fang is fastened to a bone in the -cheek, which moves with ease, so that, when not in use, the fangs can -be packed away until needed. - -All animals, man included, have doubtless in their saliva a deadly -poison, though in the latter it is extremely diluted, and essential -only to the digestion of food. In poisonous snakes, however, it is -stored up in sacs, modifications of the salivary glands, and placed in -each side of the upper jaw. From the poison-gland under the eye forward -to the edge of the jaw, a delicate canal, which opens into the fang -above the tube of the tooth, extends. Alongside of the latter may be -seen rudimentary fangs, all ready to grow out should the large one be -lost. To use the poison, the snake has merely to strike its prey, when -the muscles of the jaw, which are admirably fitted for the part they -have to play in the tragedy, press upon the glands, squeeze the poison -through the little canal down through the hollow fang, and the work is -accomplished. - -In their actions, snakes are most graceful. The gliding motion, so -characteristic, is effected by the movements of the large central -scales, that are successively pushed forward, the hinder edges resting -on the ground and constituting a support. These scales, or pushers, are -fastened to the ribs by muscles, and by holding a snake by the hand the -swelling movement can readily be felt. - -Snakes vary much in color. They are generally adapted to their -surroundings. Green Snakes are found in green grass and vegetation, -while grey snakes affect rocky districts, where they are alike -protected. Their skin is shed in one piece at various seasons of the -year, being forced off by the snake forming a ring with its tail and -squeezing the rest of the body through it, or by wriggling through -entangled bushes. Poisonous snakes may be always recognized by their -broad, flattened heads, generally short and thick bodies, and the -almost invariable possession of a vertical keel along the centre of -each scale. Long bodies, small heads devoid of distinct necks, and -scales not keeled, characterize non-poisonous species. - -Probably the best-known of our common kinds of poisonous snakes are the -rattlesnakes. They belong to the dangerous family Crotalidæ, to which -the copperheads and moccasins also belong, and are distinguished by -the large, ugly head, absence of teeth in the upper jaw excepting the -fangs, and the pit in the head. - -[Illustration: NORTHERN RATTLESNAKE. - -Prepared to Attack a Song Sparrow.] - -_Crotalus horridus_, our Northern Rattlesnake, has doubtless the widest -geographical distribution, being found in nearly every State in the -Union, from the Gulf of Mexico to Northern New England, and thence -west to the Rocky Mountains. It has a most forbidding appearance, and -when once seen with its enormous head, triangular in shape, and large -brilliant eyes, with fiery irides, it can never be mistaken. Between -the eye and the nostril is a deep pit, a character that is peculiar to -the family. - -All rattlers, as the name indicates, have a horny appendage to the -tail, formed of separate button-like objects, that rattle together when -the tail is vibrated. This rattle not only serves to warn human beings -of danger, but also to arouse in animals a curiosity that often proves -fatal. The popular belief that a rattle is added every year, and that -it is possible to determine the age of the animals by this means, is -not borne out by facts. Sometimes two rattles are known to appear -within a year, and other instances are recorded where four have been -attained in that period, and others still when several have been lost, -new ones taking their places. The number of rattles is also uncertain. -The greatest number, as observed by Dr. Holbrook, is twenty-one, but a -specimen is mentioned in the books that had forty-four. - -Mild and peaceful in disposition, the Rattlesnake has never been known, -unless provoked, to attack a human being, nor to follow him with -hostile intention. He preys upon small animals, as rats, squirrels, -rabbits and birds, and can always be approached when he is stretched -out, only striking when he is coiled. He is not a climber, seldom, -if ever, being found in trees. His alleged powers of fascination are -purely mythical. The horror his presence inspires often paralyzes -with fear his victim, who, incapable of flight, stupidly awaits his -fate. Men, women and children have been known, when attacked by -these animals, to become rooted to the spot, as it were, by fear and -surprise. All the so-called cases of fascination can be explained by -the fear which the snake’s unlooked-for presence inspires. - -Wonderful curative powers are imputed to the oil of the Rattlesnake. -Many snakes are killed during the summer months for this oil, but the -grand gathering of the crop is in the fall, when they have repaired to -their dens and wintering places. Sunny days in October and November -are chosen by snake-hunters for raiding them. The snakes, dull and -sluggish at that time of the year, crawl out of their dens upon the -rocks, huddling together by the score for the purpose of basking in the -sun. Armed with old-fashioned flails the hunters, when they come upon -a group of snakes, proceed at once to thresh them, but few making good -their escape. The Rattlesnakes, assorted from other species that are -frequently massed together with them, are carried home, when the oil is -simply tried out, bottled up and is then ready for the market and the -credulous patient. - -No subject connected with snakes, it would seem, has attracted so -much attention as the vexed one as to the care which they take of -their young. Snakes would hardly be expected to show any great amount -of maternal affection, but that they do, and in a most remarkable -manner, by taking their young into their mouths, if alarmed, is a -well-established fact. The mother, when danger is imminent, sounds her -rattle as a signal, opens her very large mouth, and receives in it her -little family. - -The bite of nearly all rattlesnakes is extremely dangerous, though not -necessarily fatal in the smaller kinds. Almost all animals succumb to -their bite, and even man himself, if the proper remedy is not at hand. -There is a general belief that the hog is exempt, and acting upon this -belief farmers have been known, where these reptiles are very abundant, -to turn in a few hogs upon them for their destruction. This animal, -though it has a fondness for the reptile, and exercises a great deal -of caution in its attack, has not infrequently been killed by the -reptile’s poisonous fangs. Large doses of whiskey have been successful -in neutralizing the effects of the poison, but it has been practically -and experimentally proved that permanganate of potash is the best -antidote. - -But of all the poisonous snakes of this country, the Copperhead, -_Ancistrodon contortrix_, is the most dreaded. In the South, he is -known as the Cotton-mouth, Moccasin and Red-eye, and is just as common -in the Gulf States as in the Atlantic and Middle States. He attains a -length of two feet, is of a hazel hue, the head having a bright coppery -lustre, and loves to conceal himself in shady spots in meadows of high -grass, where he feeds upon small animals, rarely, if ever, attacking -large ones unless trodden on. The mother Copperhead has also been -observed to shelter her young in her mouth when threatened by danger. - -_Ancistrodon piscivorus_, the Water Moccasin, that commands so much -respect from the negroes of the South, is, from the pugnacity of -his nature, equally to be feared. While the Rattlesnake will slink -away from danger, the Moccasin will attack man or brute with savage -ferocity. He is essentially a water-snake, chasing fishes and small -reptiles in the streams of his native haunts, and may be recognized -by the dark-brown colors on the upper portion of the head and the -yellowish line that passes from the snout to or over the nostril. His -length rarely exceeds twenty inches, and he is stout in proportion. -The Moccasins show the same curious care for their young already -mentioned. A low, blowing noise apprises them of danger, and into the -slightly-opened mouth of the mother, which is held close to the ground, -they hurriedly disappear. - -[Illustration: MOTHER BLACK SNAKE. - -Her Affection for Newly-Hatched Young.] - -One of the commonest of the non-poisonous snakes is the Striped Garter -Snake, ten species of which being known in the United States. Upon -the earliest appearance of spring they are almost the first to roll -out of their holes, where they have lain dormant in balls or clusters -during the cold winter months. Though easily excited, and striking -quickly, yet their bite is little more than a scratch. Their appetites -are now quite vigorous, and they have been seen to chase a toad for -more than fifty feet over a gravelly road, effecting its capture. They -are remarkably prolific, and their numbers about pools are sometimes -astonishing. It would seem that they are viviparous as well as -oviparous, from the fact that some young ones have been free and others -in sacs in the abdomen of the mother. With a brood of forty or fifty -young, which a single female has been known to produce, it would seem -that the Striped Snake would have a difficult time in protecting her -offspring by taking them into her mouth. They have this habit, however, -as abundance of evidence could be adduced to show. One witness observed -a Striped Snake upon a hillside, and noticed something moving about her -head, which proved to be young snakes. He counted twenty little ones -from one and a half to two inches long. Led by curiosity, he made a -move towards the spot, when the old one opened her mouth, and they went -in out of sight. He then stepped back and waited, and in a few minutes -they began to come out. Another witness came across a female with some -young ones near her, who, perceiving him, uttered a loud hiss, and the -young ones jumped down her throat, when she instantly glided away to a -place of concealment beneath a huge heap of stones. - -The Black Snake, _Bascanion constrictor_, the mortal enemy of the -Rattlesnake, is a familiar species, and one that is widely distributed. -As winter approaches, these snakes come from far and near to some -apparently appointed place of rendezvous, where, rolling themselves -up into a matted ball, they sleep the days and nights of winter away, -and come out in the spring-time, when the common mother of us all has -conditioned things to their habits and ways of life. In appearance, -from a decorative point of view, they are very attractive, being of -a uniform steel-blue color, with a rich tessellated arrangement of -scales. They are of wild and untamable natures, powerful and active as -foes, often engaging in encounters with other snakes, especially the -Rattlesnakes, whom they kill or force to disgorge their prey. In their -movements they are so rapid that they are often called the Racer. It -is in the breeding season that they manifest their greatest boldness, -and have often been known to go out of their way to attack a passer-by. -They will chase an intruder for a long distance, and will even descend -a tree to attack the one who is teasing them. - -It is the Black Snake that appears the most frequently in the guise -of a charmer. But, as has been remarked before, this power, so often -imputed, is merely imaginary. The reptile preys upon birds in their -nests, penetrating the thickets in quest of them, and often the -cat-bird and the red-winged blackbird, which are so prone to attack, -are seen acting strangely, crying and fluttering before the reptile in -fear and rage, while thus _charmed_, and frequently falling a victim -in their endeavors to protect their young. At such times the cries of -distress of the old birds bring birds of different genera together, -who join their forces against the common enemy, finally compelling him -to retreat. Like other snakes mentioned, the Black Snake has the same -remarkable habit of taking her young into her mouth for protection. - -Among the most attractive forms are the Green Snakes. _Leptophis -æstivus_, so common in the South, and occasionally to be met with in -Southern New Jersey, is of a brilliant green color, and so perfectly -mimicking a vine that it would rarely be taken for a living creature -when lying around the branches of a tree. They have a habit of coiling -in the nests of birds, often surprising the egg-hunter by bounding -swiftly away. Allied species, further to the South, have been observed, -when approached, to leap twenty feet in the air, falling to the ground -and making their escape. They are perfectly harmless creatures, and, -like the Green Snake of the North, can be handled with not the -slightest risk of danger. We once knew a gentleman who had one in -confinement, whom he had trained to eat from a dish and to come to his -hand at the sound of his voice. The beautiful creature, which was a -female, showed the most marked affection, and would often twine her -little form about his neck or glide her smooth head, lazily as it -seemed, along his face and forehead. - -[Illustration: SUMMER GREEN SNAKE. - -Manner of Mimicking a Vine.] - -An extremely common snake in the Eastern United States is the -Water Snake. _Nerodia sipedon_ is the name by which it is known to -the naturalist. There is in Michigan an allied form, known as the -Red-bellied Water Snake, which is quite as common, while several other -species abound in other localities. They are all inoffensive creatures -and prey upon small animals. The female shows the same regard for her -young as other kinds, suffering them, even when three or four inches -long, to take shelter in her throat, when she will clumsily turn in -search of some place of concealment. - -[Illustration: WATER SNAKE. - -Swallowing Her Young.] - -Water-snakes generally affect water-courses, often hanging from the -branches of trees over streams, into which they drop when disturbed. -Dr. Bell, an English naturalist of distinction, once tamed a European -species of this genus. This pet could distinguish him among a crowd, -and would crawl to him, passing into his sleeve, where it would curl up -for a nap. Every morning found it at the doctor’s table for its share -of milk. For strangers it had an aversion, flying and hissing at them -when any familiarities were attempted. - -Were these grovelling creatures better known, there would be found -much in them to admire and commend. They are not the hideous beings -they are represented to be. The feeling of hatred against them, an -instinctive and unappeasable enmity, is perfectly natural, and has -grown out of religious superstitions. Fear, disgust and aversion are -man’s experiences at the sight of a snake, and there is at once a -disposition to seize a stick or stone, or to make use of his heel, if -well protected, to deal a fatal stroke. War to the death seems to be -the cry between the highest of the mammals and the serpent tribe. It is -not at all surprising, therefore, that the snake, seeing a human enemy, -should either glide hastily off into the bushes, or, being thwarted, -should coil itself up and hiss or throw itself forward in attack. Man -would do well to protect the snakes about his domains, and treat them -as friends, for they do him invaluable service in the destruction of -vermin that make havoc with his crops. - -Ants, bees, spiders, and many fishes, animals that are lower down -in the scale than the snake, it is claimed, show far more forecast, -ingenuity and architectural ability than it, but asserters of such -an opinion forget that the snake is never studied under favorable -conditions. Long ages of persecution have made him fearful of man, -from whose presence he flees as from a pestilence or scourge, and -there is consequently no chance to learn his better nature. Even man, -until recently, has shown no inclination to make his acquaintance, -being controlled by a dread which it appears well nigh impossible -to overcome. Where the animal has been made to partake of the milk -of human kindness, and has learned to regard man as a friend and -not an enemy, he has shown remarkable susceptibility to culture and -enlightenment. Let it be hoped that a modicum of the wisdom which has -been attributed to him from the earliest of times, when he was made the -object of homage and the insignia of the physician, shall at least be -found to remain to the credit of science and truth. - - - - -HOUSE-BEARING REPTILES. - - -Turtles are four-legged reptiles, with short, stout, oval-shaped -bodies encased in bony boxes, from which they are able to protrude -their heads, legs and tails, and into which they can withdraw them, at -pleasure. Considerable diversity exists in the size and shape of the -box-like covering in the different species. The Box Tortoise can retire -into his shell or house, closing the under part or plastron into a -groove of the upper edge of the carapace, as the upper part is called, -thus constituting for his security an impregnable retreat. There are -species only partly enclosed by the shell, which cannot bring their -heads and feet under cover. - -With his house upon his back the turtle wanders about as the snail -does, and against his enemies can close its doors and be emphatically -not at home. He has acute sight and hearing, but is devoid of teeth, -the jaws being, like those of birds, simply cased in horn. Turtles -are not altogether silent creatures, for many of them are capable of -producing very loud sounds. - -Their eggs, which have a parchment-like covering, are buried in earth -or sand, and left to themselves to hatch. The sea-turtle, our largest -variety, is sometimes found to lay as many as two hundred eggs in a -heap, and in tropical regions has been known to attain a weight of -a thousand pounds. Even on the Atlantic Coast of the United States -individuals, weighing upwards of eight hundred pounds, have not -infrequently been captured. - -In the four species of sea-turtles, the feet are flat and -paddle-shaped, and the shell of one rather leathery than horny. Some -of these marine forms are carnivorous, living on fish, mollusks and -crustaceans, while others are strictly vegetarians, subsisting only -on roots and the various sea-weeds. The flesh of some is rich and -delicious, and a favorite and costly article of food, but of others -it is coarse and ill-flavored, and necessarily not edible. The eggs, -however, are always sweet, good and wholesome food. Valuable articles -of commerce, such as boxes, cases, knife-handles, jewelry and other -delicate ornaments, are made from the shell, for it is susceptible of a -very high polish, which brings out with surprising clearness its rich -brown and golden shades and markings. - -Next to the sea-living turtles, come the fresh-water species, which eat -both animal and vegetable foods. They enjoy much better than aught else -a bed of soft mud, their heads lifted above the surface of the stagnant -water, their long necks moving snake-like as they gulp in mouthful -after mouthful of air. They are generally gregarious in habits, large -numbers often being found huddled together in the sun on logs or banks, -close to the water, into which they quickly slide upon the first -intimation of danger. Timid as they are, yet they will snap and bite -most furiously when taken in the hand. - -Salt- and fresh-water terrapins are varieties of turtle, although some -scientists restrict the latter term to marine animals that do not -hibernate, and that cannot draw their head and feet inside the shell. -The tortoise never goes to sea they say, can draw himself within his -shell, although the Box Tortoise only can close the shell fast when -thus withdrawn, and finally, that the tortoise hibernates. Some of the -best and latest writers on the subject call all these animals turtles, -applying the name tortoise only to the familiar Box Tortoise of the -wood. - -Awkward as turtles appear in their box-like covering, yet they can walk -rapidly on land, are climbers of some note, and all are able to swim. -The head, neck, and legs of a turtle are of a bronze, blackish green, -or deep-brown color, and the shells are beautifully marked, glossy, -ridged, or carved, and made up of closely-united, many-sided plates, -arranged upon a thickened, lighter-colored and apparently uniform -bony plate, which is capable of being separated into many independent -pieces. The shell, or epidermic covering, is not brittle and lime-like, -as the shells of all mollusks are, but is of the nature of horn. In -general the plastron is of a lighter color than the carapace, being -light-brown, yellow or cream, with yellowish lines dividing the plates, -and with bordering bands of red, yellow and purple. The upper plate -is usually of a very dark color, marked and lined with darker and -lighter tints, and often displaying a bevelled yellow edge. _Chrysemys -picta_, the Painted Turtle, receives his name from the beauty of his -many-colored shell, while the Spotted Turtle, _Nanemys guttatus_, which -is often called the Wood Turtle, is distinguished by the round yellow -spots that are regularly distributed over his dark-colored carapace. - -But of all our turtles none is so well known or so interesting in his -ways as the Common Box Tortoise--_Cistudo clausa_. He affects dry -woods, and dislikes the water, and is a long-lived creature, some -individuals having been known to live more than a hundred years. Box -Tortoises in confinement have been found to eat meat, insects and bread -and milk from the hand, but if berries were put into their mouths they -wiped them out in a very funny manner with their front feet, which they -used after the fashion of a hand. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -BOX-TORTOISE FEEDING ON FUNGUS.] - -When foraging in the woods, especially during the rainy season, at -which time manifold varieties of fungi prevail, they make their meals -largely upon these plants. We have seen a huge toadstool that had been -gnawed off so evenly, the central pillar only being left intact, that -appeared as though it had been cut away by a knife. This had been the -work of the Box Tortoise, for on looking around we soon descried, -moving leisurely over the leaf-strewn earth, the creature himself -making a fresh attack upon another species in a little opening in the -woods. - -[Illustration: COMMON BOX TORTOISE. - -Breakfasting on a Toadstool.] - -Very amusing it was to watch him, as with praiseworthy deliberation -he ate round after round of the cap of the fungus. He would bite off -a mouthful of the toadstool, chew it carefully until he had extracted -the whole of the juice, then open his mouth and drop out the masticated -fibre, and take a fresh mouthful, not biting inward toward the stem, -but breaking off the morsel next beside that which he had just eaten. -He paced round and round the fungus as he took his bites, and as the -fungus decreased in regular circles, the chewed fragments increased. In -less than an hour he had eaten all the disk of the fungus to the stipe, -and then walked slowly away to seek for another. The discarded parts of -the fungus appeared quite dry when examined, nothing nutritious being -left in them. There must have been some very good reason for rejecting -the central part and the stem, which were left in every instance, -but what that reason was we could not imagine. If a decayed or wormy -portion of a toadstool was encountered in the feeding process, he did -not bite round it, but abandoned the plant altogether, and went off in -quest of a fresh specimen. - -Coming, in his travels, to a steep gully or ravine which he desires to -cross, he does not attempt the undertaking without counting his chances -of success. He seemingly revolves the matter over and over for some -time in his mind, and, when at last he has reached a conclusion, draws -his head and feet under cover, and by some quick, sudden jerk flings -himself down to the bottom, trusting to good fortune and his own wits -to making his way over the further incline. Observation teaches that -his deliberations are generally attended with the accomplishment of the -result to be attained. - -There is a very common turtle, quite abundant in the small lakes and -streams of our Western States, where he is trapped in great numbers for -the market, which country people dub the Snapping Turtle, or which, -from the resemblance which the head and neck, when stretched out, bear -to the same parts of the alligator, takes the name of Alligator Turtle, -or _Chelydra serpentina_, with the more learned naturalist. He has a -shell too small to close over him and hide him completely, but nature, -to make up for this deficiency of covering, has given him a bold and -hasty temper, which leads him to snap vigorously when disturbed. -Snapping Turtles live rather harmoniously together, even when confined -in the same pen, and only manifest their ugly dispositions towards each -other when excited by causes from without, with whose origin they have -nothing to do. Contests of a very vicious character are often thus -precipitated, which sooner or later end in the death of one or more of -the belligerent parties. - -Down in the pine countries of our Southern States lives a large, stout -animal, with a shell fifteen inches in length, which is denominated the -Gopher, or _Testudo Carolina_. These animals dwell in troops, several -families digging their dens or burrows near together, the entrance -thereto being about four feet long and expanding into a spacious -apartment. In each burrow resides a single pair of Gophers. By day -the Gophers keep close house, but by night they wander out in search -of food, devouring yams, melons, corn and other garden produce. They -dislike wet weather, and always go in-doors when it rains. Gophers’ -eggs, which are as large as pigeons’ eggs, and also their flesh, are -highly esteemed as articles of diet by the negroes. - -In Europe, a near cousin of the Gopher is kept about the house for -a pet. If allowed, in the autumn, to find his way into a garden, he -digs a hole and hibernates, coming out in the spring. An English lady -had one of these animals which lived in the kitchen. He was fond of -creeping into the fireplace and getting under the grate, where he would -contentedly lie until the hot coal and ashes dropped upon his back and -burnt his shell. When winter came this little creature wanted to take -his long sleep, and dug so persistently into baskets, drawers, boxes -and closets, that finally a box of earth was given to him, into which -he worked his way until out of sight, and there he remained until -April sun and showers called him from his winter retreat. His fare was -potatoes, carrots, turnips and bread and milk, which he especially -liked. - - - - -SUMMER DUCK. - - -Perhaps no species of North American water-bird is more highly esteemed -by lovers of the beautiful in nature than _Aix sponsa_--the Summer -Duck, or Wood Duck--and, when obtainable, is one of the first to find -room in the collection of amateur naturalists. With the epicure, -however, he is of rather inferior standing, lacking as he does the -delicacy of flesh which makes the green-winged teal and others of his -tribe of such immense gastronomic value. - -Though truly an American species, yet this bird is more generally found -throughout the United States than any other, nesting wherever suitable -localities present themselves. North of the Potomac River, and in the -various States situated above the parallel of latitude which cuts its -head-waters, at least so far as the country east of the Rocky Mountains -is concerned, it is chiefly a migrant, arriving towards the close of -March, or in the beginning of April. South of this line, from Maryland -to Florida, and thence south-westerly through the Gulf States into -Mexico, the birds are found in more or less abundance during the entire -year. - -Pairing commences in the South Atlantic and Gulf States, we are told, -about the first of March, but in New England and the Middle States in -favorable seasons from the first to the fifteenth of April, whereas -in the country bordering on the Great Lakes and in the Western States -generally, it does not take place till the last of May or the beginning -of June. - -Upon their arrival in our Northern States these birds, strange to say, -unlike many of their numerous family connections, seldom frequent the -sea-shore or the adjoining salt marshes, but manifest a predilection -for the ponds, mill-dams and deep muddy streams of the interior; and -the same is true in more southern latitudes, for they prefer to place -their nests along the creeks and bayous of the land where the orange -and palmetto charm the eye with perennial verdure. - -Between the time of their appearance in March and the plighting of -their vows at the accustomed trysting-places, the sexes consort -together in flocks of four or more, but never in very large numbers, -and fatten on acorns, the seeds of the wild oats, and such insects as -they can procure from the tree-branches or the muddy borders of the -streams and ponds which they so delight to visit. - -On each recurrence of the mating season there is reason to believe -that the same couple come together and pledge anew their fidelity -and affection, unless debarred by death, or some other of the many -vicissitudes to which life is prone. The troth-plight sealed, and a -union effected, the happy couple soon start off in quest of a spot -for a home. In the case of old birds the same locality, where no -interference has been experienced from beast or man, has been known -to be visited for four successive years. For obvious reasons, Wood -Ducks delight to live in close proximity to bodies of water, such -places affording conveniences to the young, when they are sufficiently -matured to betake themselves thither, for food and exercise. Situations -remote from water entail unnecessary labor upon the female, who is then -required, at considerable risk and peril, to carry them one by one to -the pond or stream in her bill. When the distance is not too great, -and the ground underneath the nesting-tree is amply covered with dry -leaves and grasses, the young scramble to the mouth of the nest, drop -themselves down, and under the maternal leadership wend their way to -the much-loved fluid. Often the tree or stub which contains their home -is found to overshadow the water. All that is necessary then is for the -tender little creatures, after reaching the entrance, to spread their -ill-feathered pinions and oar-like feet and fling themselves down, a -feat which can be performed without jeopardy to life or limb. - -[Illustration: SUMMER DUCKS AND YOUNG. - -Female Carrying Young in Her Bill from Nest in Hollow Tree.] - -Almost any tree, or tree-branch, containing the essential hollow, and -suitably located, is utilized. Broken branches of high sycamores, -seldom more than forty or fifty feet from water, are, according to -Audubon, favorite places, while Wilson claims to have met the home -of a pair of these birds in a fork composed of branches, and built -out of a few rude sticks. In the South, the forsaken retreat of the -gray squirrel and the hole of the ivory-billed woodpecker are common -nesting-places. Often the entrance to the nest is apparently so small -when compared with the bulk of the occupant that it is a matter of -surprise to many that she can manage to make her way into it without -suffering bodily injuries. But she does, nevertheless, which is an -evidence that she either knows how to conform to circumstances, or -is a better judge of dimensions than many of the would-be-wise lords -of creation. All nests of our finding have been wide enough at their -mouths to admit of easy passage, and have been from four to six feet in -vertical direction. Soft decayed wood, and a few feathers, doubtless -plucked from the breast of the builder, were their only contents. Dry -plants, down, and feathers of the wild turkey, wild goose and the -common barnyard fowl, have been observed, in addition to the foregoing -articles, by other writers. The height of the entrance above the ground -varies from fifteen to thirty feet, but probably a less, or even a -greater elevation, may sometimes be attained. - -Wilson speaks of a nest which he observed in an old grotesque white -oak, which stood on a slope of one of the banks of the Tuckahoe River, -in New Jersey, just twenty yards from the water’s edge, that had been -occupied for four consecutive years. At the time of his visit the nest -contained thirteen young birds, which the maternal head was engaged -in carrying down to the water to give them, perhaps, their first -experience in the art of swimming. So carefully, and yet so adroitly -and quickly, did she perform this seemingly difficult task, that she -was less than ten minutes in its accomplishment. Although the male -usually stands sentry while the processes of laying and sitting are -going on, and signals the approach of enemies by a peculiar cry which -has been likened to the crowing of a young cock--œ-ēēk! œ-ēēk!--yet -from the silence of one writer upon the subject we infer that the duty -of rearing the rather numerous family is left to the mother, while -he--her friend and consequential partner, as though disdaining such -ignoble and degrading work, because of its slavish character--is off -with his gay companions, disporting themselves in mid-air, or trimming, -while perched upon some sheltering bough, their rich and varied -plumage. So intent, however, was the mother-bird upon the faithful -discharge of her home-duties, that she heeded not the stately sloop, -then nearly completed, as it lay upon the stocks close-by, with its -hull looming up within twelve feet of her home, darkened with the -presence, and reverberating with the noise of workmen, but continued to -pass in and out as though utterly unconscious of the so near approach -of danger. Audubon claims that the male deserts the female when the -period of sitting commences, and joins his sterner brethren, who -unite into flocks of considerable numbers, and keep apart from their -partners until the young are fully matured, when young and old of -both sexes come together, and thus remain until the return of another -breeding-season. - -The female, it is evident from what has just been said, assumes the -entire charge of incubation. For more than twenty-one days she is thus -busied, with nothing, it would seem, to relieve the monotony of her -task. How often she despairs and bewails the hardship of her lot, none -can know. It is the inexorable decree of fate that she should perform -the duties alone and unassisted, and most willingly she submits. But -the _ennui_ of the labor is, in a measure, forgotten in the vision -that hope holds out to her patience, for her persistent assiduity is -ultimately rewarded by a whole nest-full of happy ducklings. While the -hatching process is going on the patient housewife only leaves the -nest when pressed by the pangs of hunger, and but for a short time. -Before leaving, however, she takes the precaution to see that her -creamy-white, elliptical treasures, to the number of ten or thirteen -eggs, are carefully covered with down. - -Like the young of our domesticated species, the little Wood Ducks -follow the mother almost as soon as they are hatched, and gather -whatever of vegetable and insect food they happen to encounter. They -are passionately fond of the water, and best show their real character -when gracefully floating upon its glassy bosom, or diving into its -azure depths. At an early age they respond to the parent’s call with -a soft and mellow _pee, pee, pee-e_, which is uttered quite rapidly, -and at repeated intervals. The call of the mother, when addressing the -young at such times, is rather low and soft, and resembles that of the -young, being only a little more prolonged. - -These beautiful birds have often been domesticated. They become at such -times so unsuspicious and familiar as to allow themselves to be stroked -by the hand. No handsomer bird could be chosen for introduction into -our yards. The male, some nineteen inches in length, and with a scope -of wing of two and one-third feet, is a being of no mean proportions. -But it is the richness and variety of his colors that render him an -object of admiration. A conspicuous green and purple crest adorns -his head, while the sides, which are iridescent purple, are relieved -of their monotony by a streak of white from base of bill to occiput, -and by another, back of the eye, of a pure white color, which is -continuous with that of the throat. The sides and front of the lower -neck and the forepart of the breast are a bright chestnut, with five -white spots, while the lower parts are generally white. Beautifully -iridescent metallic hues set off the upper surfaces of the wings, which -show most effectively in the blaze of the noonday sun. To the female -nature has not been, it would seem to the casual observer, quite so -propitious. Her grayish head, with lengthened hind-feathers, white -throat, brownish-yellow fore-neck, upper breast and sides, striped -with grayish and generally dark-brown upper parts, glossed chiefly -with purple, contrast most markedly with the rich, gorgeous attire -of her other half. While less showy in dress and lacking the dignity -of demeanor that characterizes her lord, she is none the less fitted -to perform her part in the drama of life. Her dress, sober in color, -and with just enough of ornament to relieve the oppressiveness of its -sameness, is so accordant with her home-surroundings as to afford her -the protection and security she requires in the trying and perilous -duties of brood-raising. - - - - -AMERICAN WOODCOCK. - - -Quite as interesting in habits is the American Woodcock, the _Philohela -minor_ of Gray, which belongs to the grallatorial, rather than to the -natatorial, family of birds. In distribution he is somewhat restricted, -differing in this respect from his numerous congeneric brethren, which -have a wide dispersion. He is chiefly a denizen of the eastern parts of -the United States, and of the British territory immediately adjacent. -Fort Rice, in north-western Dakota, and Kansas and Nebraska in the -West, appear to be the limits of his range in these directions. In the -Middle and Eastern States Woodcocks are found in greater abundance than -anywhere else. While the bulk pass North to breed, a few remain in the -South and raise their happy little families in spite of the ardor of -the climate. - -Few migrants arrive earlier at their breeding-grounds. They usually -appear from the fifth to the tenth of March in New England and the -Middle Atlantic States, although instances are recorded where they have -been observed as early as the twenty-fourth of February. These cases -are rare, however, and only happen, if at all, when the weather has -been remarkably auspicious for a lengthy spell. As a few birds have -been known to winter in the North, when the season has been unusually -mild, their emergence from sheltered localities so early might be -construed by persons not cognizant of their presence, or of their -occasional winter sojourn, as a case of recent arrival. In view of this -fact, it would be difficult to prove that a bird seen in winter had -just come from the South, unless discovered _in transitu_. - -Small companies, from four to six in number, start together upon -the migratory tour. Low, swampy thickets invite their presence upon -reaching their destination. Here they conceal themselves during the -day, but when night has gathered dark they come out of their grassy -retreats and wander about in quest of food. From the setting of the -sun behind the western hills to the appearance of the first streaks -of dawn in the east, they pursue their nocturnal rambles. Few persons -have visited these birds in their accustomed haunts while foraging. -Let me take the reader to some neighboring swamp, or by the side of -some lonely woodland, which these birds delight to frequent. The utmost -silence must be maintained, or they will be frightened away. While it -will be difficult to see the creatures that have called us hither, yet -we know they are not far away by the rustle they produce among the -dry leaves, and by the peculiar notes they emit. _Chipper, chip-per, -chip_ may be heard from the right, and almost at the next instant it -is varied to _bleat_ or _bleat ta bleat ta_, produced in the contrary -direction, or off in the distance, showing that the authors of these -sounds have changed their positions. While these birds have a habitual -fondness for humid thickets, they not infrequently betake themselves to -corn-fields and other cultivated tracts in close proximity, and even to -elevated woods. - -For more than a fortnight after their arrival the sexes, though feeding -in company, do not apparently manifest a disposition to assume conjugal -relationship. The desire for food seems to outweigh every other -consideration. The inclemency of the weather, and the coldness of the -earth, may have much to do with holding the amatory forces in check. -But when the opportune period arrives, which it does in the course -of events, the sexes desist in a measure from their riotous living -and give the nobler instincts of their being a chance to assert their -power. The males are the first to feel the changes which are being -wrought in their natures. For more than a week from the incipiency -of this feeling, in the early morning and evening hours, they may -be seen exercising themselves by means of “curious spiral gyrations” -in mid-air, and uttering, as earthwards they descend, a note which -has been likened to the word _kwank_. This note may be a call to the -female in the spring, but as it is often uttered in the fall after the -breeding-season is past, it may also be a summons for the gathering -together of the members of the same household. The production of these -sounds seems a labor of very great effort. But the movements of the -males at these times must be seen to be appreciated. The head and bill -are bent forward until the latter comes into contact with the ground, -and, just as the sound is being emitted, the body is urged violently -forward. These spasmodic exertions having ceased, the actor in this -drama twitches his abbreviated, half-spread tail, assumes an erect -attitude of listening, and, if no response is elicited, repeats his -characteristic cry with all its accompanying movements. If the call -awakes an answering note, the happy lover flies to the presence of -the one he seeks and lavishes upon her the most endearing caresses. -Sometimes, as Audubon affirms, the male awaits the arrival of the dear -one, and does not fly to meet her. The summons, according to the same -eminent authority, seem sometimes to be replied to by one of the same -sex, which is always the prelude to a fierce encounter between the -two, for, on such occasions, when the feelings are in a high state of -tension, the most intense enmity exists between the males. But these -contentions are ordinarily short-lived, and cease with the assumption -of matrimonial relations. - -The happiness of the male is now complete. With his homely but -prepossessing bride by his side, he soon journeys off in search of a -home. This is a matter of great consequence, and tasks the patience to -the utmost. But their labors are eventually crowned with success. The -most secluded resorts are visited, and in some low, dense and swampy -woods or brake, difficult of access, and one that none but the cruel -collector would be likely to find, they hide away their nest. The -structure is generally placed on the ground, at the foot of a bush or -tussock, in the midst of small birches or alders, or on a decayed stump -or prostrate log. In certain localities, it is snugly nestled in the -midst of a meadow. It is by no means an elaborate affair, but merely -consists of a few dried leaves or grasses which are scratched together -by the female, and the work of a few brief hours at the most. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -WOODCOCK ON NEST (Showing protective coloring)] - -Being ready for occupancy, the female soon commences to deposit her -eggs. These, to the number of three or four, are laid one at a time on -consecutive days. Oviposition, in the Southern States, commences in -February or March, while in the northern limits of the bird’s range -from the tenth to the fifteenth of April, seldom later. Both birds -perform the labor of incubation, and so attentive are they to the -business that it is an unusual occurrence to find both absent from -the nest at the same time. When the female is sitting the male busies -himself in attending to the demands of hunger; and when her turn has -come the care of the nest is resigned to her noble, conscientious lord. -So faithfully do they keep to the nest that nothing short of the most -menacing danger will compel them to leave. The approach of a team or -a pedestrian, even when within a few feet of its location, has not -been known to startle them. But when the danger is quite imminent the -sitting bird slips out of the nest and makes her way into the tall -grasses, where, hidden from view, she becomes a silent and sorrowful -witness of any disaster that may befall her home. Should no destruction -be perpetrated, and the intruder has gone his way, she cautiously comes -out of her place of concealment and resumes her labors. But she has -learned a very impressive lesson, for on a second visit to the nest no -bird is to be seen. Apprised of the coming of danger, she has slipped -out in time to escape detection. Thus, patiently, persistently and -unweariedly these faithful creatures apply themselves by turns to the -task of sitting until success has crowned their willing labors. The -time spent in hatching is, under the most favorable conditions, from -seventeen to eighteen days. - -[Illustration: AMERICAN WOODCOCK. - -Mother Flying Away With Young Between Her Feet.] - -The young are very timid creatures and keep close to their parents. -Considerable solicitude is shown by the latter for their well-being. -Their helpless infancy, so to speak, is watched over with all the -care that a human mother bestows upon her offspring, and when their -lives are endangered recourse is had to many a _ruse_ to deceive their -enemies and bring them into places of security. When severely pressed -by foes, the mother, by a peculiar alarm, warns them of the state of -things, and while they are scattering in different directions seeks -to attract attention to herself in many a well-feigned artifice. In -her anxiety for their safety, she has even been observed to seize -between her two feet a youngling and fly with it away--a behavior -whose purpose seemed to be the diversion of the enemy from the rest -of the brood, thus giving them a chance to flee from impending peril -to places of security in the surrounding verdure. After all danger -has disappeared, she summons them together again by a familiar call, -and doubtless relates to them the story of her adventures and the -dangers from which they were saved. Worms, animalcula, ants and other -soft-bodied insects, which the parents assist them in procuring from -the soft earth, and from beneath the grass and dead leaves that abound -in the places they frequent, constitute their food. Later on they are -able to obtain their subsistence, with all the address of older birds, -by thrusting their bills into the soil and in such other places as -would be likely to contain the objects desired. Their tongues, covered -with a viscid saliva, adhere to the food, and when drawn into the mouth -carry it with them without danger of being lost. All who have made -these birds a study have often discerned holes made in the soft mud -by their bills. The presence of these “borings,” as they are called, -is always an indication that game is not far distant, which a careful -exploration of the locality soon verifies. The young, when matured, -continue to occupy the same haunts with their parents, and, unless -brought to an untimely death by the merciless gun of the hunter, repair -to the warm, sunny, smiling South with the return of frost. In the -Middle States--and the same is doubtless true of other sections of our -great country--there is never more than a single brood raised, although -the early breeding of the species would certainly afford time for a -second hatching before the close of the season. Less pyriform are the -eggs of the Woodcock than waders’ mostly are, being, in some instances, -almost ovoidal. Their ground-color varies from a light clay to one -of buffy-brown, and the markings occur in the form of fine spots and -blotches of chocolate-brown, interspersed with others of obscure lilac, -more or less thickly scattered over the surface of the egg, their size -and intensity of color bearing, in general, a direct correspondence -with the depth of the background. Remarkable variations of size exist -throughout the species’ range, some being short and broad, while others -are long and narrow. A set of three from Pennsylvania, which the writer -carefully measured, showed an average measurement of 1.54 by 1.21 -inches. - -So familiar a bird as the Woodcock, which is sometimes termed the -Bog-sucker or Wood-snipe, hardly needs description. He has a thick, -heavily-set body, short and thick neck, and large head, bill and -eyes, and ears beneath the visual organs. His wings are short and -rounded, the first three primaries being very narrow and shorter than -the fourth, and the fourth and fifth the largest. The tarsi are about -one and one-fourth inches long and rather stout, the tibiæ feathered -to the joints, and the toes long and slender, and without marginal -membranes or basal webs. More than two and a half inches in length is -the bill, straight, tapering, and stout at base, with ridge at base of -maxilla high, and the upper mandible a little larger than the lower, -and knobbed at the end. Three long grooves, one on ridge above, and the -others on each side of maxilla, complete the structural details of the -bill. The sexes are alike, the female being larger than the male. Adult -specimens vary from ten to twelve inches in length, and have an expanse -of wings of from fifteen to eighteen inches, and a weight ranging from -four to nine ounces. The eyes are brown, legs and bill of the dried -skin pale-brownish, upper parts black, gray, russet and brown, chin -whitish, and rest of under parts different shades of brownish-red. - -So exquisitely sensible is the extremity of the bill, as in the -snipe, that these birds are enabled to collect their food by the mere -touch, without using their eyes, which are set at such a distance -and elevation in the back part of the head as to give them an aspect -of stupidity. The eyes being situated high up and far back is a wise -provision of nature, as, by this peculiarity, they escape many of -their enemies, their field of vision being greatly augmented by such an -arrangement. Obtaining their sustenance, as they largely do, by probing -with their bills, so amply endowed with nerves, they have comparatively -little use for their eyes, unless to keep watch for their numerous foes. - -Though well known to the sportsman, yet by the casual observer this -bird is frequently confounded with the Wilson’s snipe. But the error -can readily be avoided, if it is borne in mind that the Woodcock has -the entire lower parts, including the lining of wings, a reddish-brown -color, while the snipe has the abdomen white, the throat and upper -parts of the breast speckled, and the lining of the wings barred with -white and black. - - - - -PIPING PLOVER. - - -Have you ever been to the sea-shore? Then, of course, you have met the -Piping Plover, but, perhaps, not to know him. He is of the size of -the robin, not quite so robust, but stands much taller, being mounted -on rather long, stilt-like legs, which admirably fit him for the life -which he is designed to fill in the world. He belongs to the family -of wading birds, and seeks the principal part of his food in or by -the water, which could not possibly be were his walking appendages -curtailed the least bit of their fair proportions. But to be more -precise in my word-picture, let me describe him to you as of a pale -ashy-brown color, fading into grayish upon the under parts, and as -having his head set off with some narrow black bands, that on the neck -rarely, if ever, forming a perfect ring. His bill will be found to be -short and stout and blunt, and there will be an appreciable lack of -webbing between the middle and inner front toes. - -Now that it is plain what the bird looks like, you are certainly -prepared, more than ever, to take some interest in him in his brief -stay by the sea. So strongly is he attached to the scenes rendered dear -by past associations and memories that, from his winter home in the -sunny South, and even from over the waters beyond our southern borders, -he hails with delight the return of the vernal equinox, for he knows -full well that it brings with it the summer’s heat and all its varied, -priceless wealth of insect life. - -So with the first spring signs of open weather he quits his brumal -retreat, winds his way up along the trend of the Atlantic seaboard, -and at last reaches in the nights of early April the sandy beaches of -our Jersey coast. In flocks of a dozen individuals they run about the -sand in a most lively manner, and utter all the while a variety of -notes more or less pleasing, blending as they do with the deep-toned -bass of the ocean. When this sound, welling up from a dozen throats, is -heard in the dark it is particularly striking, as wild and weird as the -whistling of a wind at sea through the rigging of a ship. - -But these flocks soon disperse into pairs to breed. Slight depressions -in the dry sand, and always in the midst of groups of broken colored -shells, but out of the reach of the maddened waves, rather than in -muddy, marshy places back of the beach-line, serve them for nests. -This nesting among clustered shells seemingly points to a love for -the beautiful. But may it not be that the shells but mark the various -nest-positions in the unbroken waste of sand? We incline to this -opinion. There is so much diversity manifested in the size of the -groups and in the arrangement and coloration of the individual shells -that comprise them, that no very great difficulty should be experienced -by the several pairs nesting in the same locality in knowing each -other’s nest. - -While the birds are concerned with the cares of brood-raising, which -is usually towards the close of May or the beginning of June, they -confine their feeding to the damp, wet sand. Between it and the dry a -clear line of separation is plainly noticeable. It is only when they -are ready for the home duties that they are seen to resort to aerial -navigation. Even when on the very boundary-line of the two stretches -of sand, the wet and the dry, and with the nest almost in sight, they -are known to assume wing, taking due care, however, to alight before -they have fairly reached the spot. In flight an advantage, that of a -more commanding view, is acquired, which walking does not give. But in -leaving the nest for food, or for any other purpose, they, as before, -walk some distance away before they venture to fly. There is a seeming -purpose in so doing, the object to be gained being the deceiving of man -and other enemies as to the real location of the nest. - -[Illustration: FEMALE PIPING PLOVER. - -Nest in Midst of Broken Shells.] - -All these precautions are undertaken for the sake of the eggs, although -in color and markings these so closely resemble the dry sand and -intermingled bits of foreign substances, that such actions seem all -unnecessary. When birds have been flushed from the nest, and its exact -position has been noted with the greatest care, I have failed, after -several minutes of the closest searching, to detect the eggs, so true -has been the color-harmony between them and the surrounding sand. This -resemblance in coloration must be seen to be fully appreciated. In -ground the eggs are the palest possible creamy-brown, but marked all -over, quite sparingly, with small blackish-brown dots and specks, the -largest hardly exceeding a pin’s head. Four is the usual number, and -these, from their peculiar pear-shaped form, are placed with their -points together in the centre of the nest. They are objects of more -than ordinary solicitude, the little Plovers making most violent -demonstrations and pleading piteously when they are approached. -The mother employs all the well-known artifices, such as lameness, -inability to fly, to draw the intruder away from the nest. The young -run as soon as they leave the egg, and are great adepts at hiding, -squatting, and remaining motionless. Their downy plumage so assimilates -them to the sand that unless they reveal themselves by moving, it -requires a very keen eye to distinguish them from the numberless tufts -that are scattered about the higher reaches of the beach. - -Although so essentially a bird of the sea-shore, yet in August many -scores of these birds come up the Delaware River as far as tide-water -extends, feeding upon the mud-flats and gravel-bars, and occasionally -wending their way up along the courses of the creeks until they find -themselves well into the country. It is interesting to watch them as -they run in and out among the little hills and hollows of the mud in -quest of their prey. They are happy, light-hearted fellows, who do not -begrudge, when some racy tidbit has rewarded their hunting, to pipe a -few notes of thanks to Him who watches as tenderly over them as over -the mighty lords of the earth. - - - - -BOB WHITE. - - -Somewhat related to the grouse is the Quail, as he is called in -the Northern States, or “Bob White,” his universally recognized -appellation. His scientific name is _Ortyx Virginianus_. Differing -from the Old World partridges, he has been assigned a place in the -sub-family Odontophorinæ, of which five genera are said to exist, most -of them being restricted to the extreme south-west of our country. His -habits and history are full of interest to everybody. - -Quails are restless, uneasy birds, attached to one place while -rearing their family, but immediately upon the brood becoming able to -travel, commencing their wanderings. There is no accounting for these -movements, which sometimes deprive a whole district of their presence -for a time, to populate a neighboring region previously without them. -When such journeys are undertaken, a large number of birds participate, -travelling on foot, and passing steadily through districts where food -is plentiful, and seemingly without any definite destination in mind, -so loath are they to use their wings, that in attempting to cross wide -rivers and inlets immense numbers are said to perish. A limited and -partial migration, it is highly probable, takes place annually from -the more northern to warmer latitudes, influenced in its extent by the -comparative severity of the seasons, being more distinctly migrating -west than east of the Delaware River. - -About the middle of March the winter flocks break up, and the mating -begins. Although not indulging in the noisy and seemingly meaningless -antics of the grouse to call attention to his personal attractiveness, -Bob White, it would appear, becomes suddenly conscious of his comely -looks and excellent voice. In a dignified manner, with head erect, he -walks proudly about, inviting the opposite sex to view him at his best. -From the orchard gate he calls a saucy good morning to the farmer, -knowing that the law holds its _ægis_ over him at this time, but he -keeps an eye to hawks, cats and other predatory animals that respect -neither time, place nor season. He is polygamous, willing to assume any -amount of family responsibility, and will help to rear two, or even -three, broods a year, a successful pair often turning out twenty-five -young in a season. It is not an uncommon occurrence to find a covey of -little cheepers, scarcely able to fly, as late as November. - -Although paired so early, the Quails do not proceed to the business of -nidification in the central part of their range until about the middle -of May. The leeward side of some dense tussock of grass, a mouldering -stump in a wild, matted meadow, the woody margin of a clover field -or orchard, or an old pasture overgrown with bramble thickets, are -situations commonly chosen, the female, as is her undoubted right, -taking the lead in fixing upon the site. An artificial bed of grasses -and vegetable trash, filling a shallow depression, is the nest. -Sometimes it is placed so as to be concealed by overarching grasses, -through which a regular tunnel, several feet in length, conducts to the -sanctum; and, at other times, is only covered with leaves and straw, -which the birds themselves have rudely adjusted. The nest, which is -constructed solely by the females of the family, varies in dimensions -according to the number of this sex that anticipate using it, the male -in the meantime going about in quest of food, or sitting upon a low -twig close by, cheering his wives by his trisyllabic note, and very -faithfully warning them of the imminence of danger. - -The work is prosecuted with considerable zeal, three days at farthest -sufficing to make the nest ready for the first egg, which is -immediately laid, and which is followed by one on each consecutive day, -until seven or eight have been deposited. As many as thirty eggs are -sometimes found in a single nest, which is due to the polygamy of the -male. Two, and often three and four females, are taken by a male, and -two have been known to occupy simultaneously the same nest. - -When a pair of birds has established itself in a locality from the -first, and has been successful in rearing a family of young during the -ensuing spring, if the females are in the majority the unprovided ones -still continue, as a general thing, to linger with the parents after -their more specially favored companions have mated and moved elsewhere. -This is particularly noticeable in a new locality where the covey -consists entirely of members of a single family. In cases where several -families congregate in the fall, the chances are greatly in favor of -monogamy. Small flocks are more decidedly polygamous than larger ones. -We have never observed the converse--that is, more than one male to a -female--but where several pairs are found in the same field, at slight -distances from each other, there is sometimes a noticeable tendency to -associate. - -The eggs of the Quail are crystal white, sometimes slightly tinged with -yellow, and pyriform in shape. Eighteen days are required for their -hatching. Where the father is not fortunate enough to possess a harem, -a part of the work devolves upon him, while the mother seeks food and -recreation; but where there are several females, the work is divided -very amicably among them, each sitting about half a day at a stretch, -then calling her relief with a low note, if there be only two, the -male taking no part in the labor of incubation whatever. Should the -family be larger, two females will sit side by side on the eggs, there -being too many in number for one breast to cover. Meanwhile the husband -remains close by, chirping encouragement in a low tone, and betimes -making the field vocal with his loud, clear whistle. He is exceedingly -vigilant, and if a human being approaches the nest gives the alarm to -his partners, who secretly withdraw from the nest, while he, thoughtful -husband as he is, flings himself upon the ground in front of the -intruder, feigning lameness or injury, and seeking by every device -known to him to attract attention and pursuit, till having beguiled the -enemy far away from his home he seeks safety for himself in flight. The -experienced oölogist pays no regard to this deceit, seeing in it only a -sign of the nearness of the coveted prize, but patiently continues his -search until he has discovered its whereabouts. - -[Illustration: HOME OF BOB WHITE. - -Two Wives on Same Nest.] - -Two broods are invariably raised and often a third, but the last -appearing late in the summer, and scarcely attaining their growth -before the coming of snow. If unmolested, it is evident, therefore, -that the species would increase with great rapidity, as shown by -the celerity with which regions, where the birds had been well nigh -exterminated, have been replenished when a period of quiet for a season -or two has been allowed them. The young run about in a very lively -manner as soon as they have left the shell, and in a few days are given -over to the care of the father, whom they follow and obey as readily as -they did the mother, possibly because they do not recognize the change -of guardians, while she returns to the cares of rearing another family. - -During the spring and early summer both old and young find an -abundance of food for themselves in the larvæ of various insects, the -succulent shoots of growing plants and such seeds as abound. Later on, -strawberries, blueberries, huckleberries and other wild fruits supply -their demands. In August they grow fat upon grasshoppers, and as this -is the time when seeds ripen, acorns and beech-nuts fall, and the -stubble-fields are full of scattered wheat, rye, barley and maize, and -insects are plentiful upon the ground, they feast themselves to satiety -before the winter begins, until they have reached that delectable -plumpness so highly esteemed by _bon vivants_. Attaining their full -growth by the end of September, at least in the case of the earlier -broods, the season of play for the partridges and sport for the gunner -has come. Quail-shooting is regarded as a test of marksmanship in the -United States. So rare and wild have the birds become by reason of -incessant hunting, that it certainly requires skill and fine shooting -to make a bag. Bred in the open fields, and feeding early in the -morning and late in the evening, a man may beat a field all day, and -put up only one or two birds, when he is certain that twice as many -lay concealed, huddled up in little knots in out-of-the-way places, -which the best of dogs might easily pass without discovering. Their -inconspicuous colors, too, which are in keeping with the objects around -them, so conceal them from the vision of the hunter, that, trusting to -them, they will sit immovable until he has gone some distance beyond, -when they will spring up and away like so many arrows, requiring a -quick eye and a steady hand to turn and drop a brace. - -When ultimately flushed, they fly to some particular covert, and -so long as this thicket or fern-brake remains undiscovered, will -repeatedly repair to it for safety and security. A rather curious -circumstance, which has created no little discussion among American -sportsmen, materially aids their concealment. When alighting, after -being flushed, the Quail is said to give out no scent for some little -time. This is supposed to be a voluntary act of retention of odor on -the part of the bird, as a conscious method of protection. Some, while -admitting the fact, believe it to be a power belonging to particular -bevies, at least in a far greater degree than to others, like the -custom of alighting upon the branches of trees when frightened, while -others restrict the faculty to particular individuals rather than -bevies. Our earlier ornithologists do not mention the retention of -scent. It is probable, as claimed by a few, that Quails’ swift running -over the dry leaves of upland woods or meadows allows little time and a -poor surface for the transmission of the scent, and that when they drop -suddenly and remain quiet no effluvium escapes, but which only becomes -disseminated the very instant they move. - -The open fields being smitten by the wild winds of November, and the -reeds bruised and broken, the Quail retreats to the depths of the swamp -or the shelter of a dense thicket, where he keeps life in him as best -he can during the cold, stormy days, hunting the stubble and swamp -for soft-shelled nuts and seeds, torpid beetles, and the hard fruits -and seed-cases of grasses and weeds, some of which, the skunk cabbage -for example, tainting his flesh with their flavor. Huddled together -the forlorn covey allow the snow to cover them, trusting to shake it -off on the return of the morning, but occasionally a crust freezes -upon the surface, and the poor birds find themselves in a prison from -which they cannot break out before they starve to death. The habit of -huddling is peculiar to Quails the whole year round. They select at -evening some spot of low ground, where the long grass affords shelter -and warmth, and there they encamp, sleeping in a circle, shoulder to -shoulder, with heads turned out, keeping each other warm, and ready -to escape at a moment’s warning without stumbling over one another. -A suitable roosting-place once found, night after night they repair -thither, leaving it in the morning before sunrise to seek their -breakfast. - -Unless the winter be unusually mild, they may be seen associating in -the pasture with the cattle, and even following them home to glean -the grain that falls into the barnyard, and pick up the scraps that -are thrown to the chickens. This delightful confidence is not always -abused, for many persons take pains to foster the bevies they find -spending the winter in some brushy hillside near the house by daily -scattering grain or clover-seed upon the snow where the hungry birds -may come and get it. The pert air with which one of the cocks will -perch himself on a fence-rider or walk sedately along a stone wall in -the early sunlight of a glistening January morning is reward enough -to the benefactor, if he cares not to preserve them for the selfish -pleasure of shooting them the following autumn. - -As a delicate article of food the Quail is highly esteemed, and during -the time the law allows the markets are filled with bunches of them. -Various devices in the form of snares, nets and traps are called into -service to effect their capture, and in some parts of the country, New -England especially, fresh importations have been necessary to preserve -a sufficient number for sport. Bands of beaters in the Southern and -Western States cautiously drive immense flocks into nets, but there -is less danger of exterminating this than almost any other species of -game-bird, it would seem, on account of its sequestered habits and -prolificacy. - -Taming and domestication is an easy matter with these birds. In all -cases, however, where the eggs have been hatched under a hen at -liberty, the Quail chicks have run away to the woods as soon as the -leaves have turned sear in the fall and never come back. They sang -their “Ah, Bob White!” just as clearly before they had ever heard one -of their kin as any woodland-bred Quails could do. It is quite common -to re-colonize portions of the Eastern States when they have become -depopulated, and an effort made some years ago to introduce these birds -into the Salt Lake Valley of Utah was eminently successful. Within the -past few years some of the West India Islands have been colonized, but -attempts to acclimatize the birds in England and Ireland have proved -most signal failures. - - - - -RUFFED GROUSE. - - -Considerable misapprehension exists in relation to the popular -appellation of this species. In some parts of the country it is dubbed -the Partridge, while in others it goes by the name of Pheasant. It is -neither. All its affinities point away from these families, in the -direction of the True Grouse, of which it constitutes a useful and -interesting member. Pheasants are never found in the United States, but -are indigenous to Southern Asia. Their nearest representative here is -the Wild Turkey. Almost as much may be said of the Partridge, a group -of birds which are exclusive denizens of the Old World. - -But now to our subject. Few Grouse are so well known as the Ruffed -Grouse, the _Bonasa umbellus_ of Stephens. Everywhere throughout the -timbered regions of Eastern North America it is more or less plentiful, -ranging from the Atlantic seaboard to the Rocky Mountains, and from -Georgia to Nova Scotia. In all our Southern States, Louisiana excepted, -these birds exist to some extent, and are also to be found over limited -portions of the Missouri region, but, doubtless, more especially -about the mouth of the river, and in the contiguous country. In the -western parts of the region it is represented by a form which passes -with ornithologists as a well-defined, genuine variety. It seems to be -wanting in California, but in the wooded sections of the Cascade Range, -as well as in the valley of the Willamette in Oregon, where it exists -under a new varietal name, it is by no means an uncommon occupant. In -the New England, Middle Atlantic and Northern Central States it is that -these birds are to be seen to the best advantage, and in the greatest -numbers. West of the Mississippi, if we exclude Eastern Kansas, -Southern Iowa and the whole of Missouri, they occur, if at all, in -comparatively small and isolated parties. - -In regions which these Grouse inhabit, they are permanent residents, -and are never known to move southward with the retreat of warm weather. -They are capable of adapting themselves to climatic variations with -ease, but not so readily to surface irregularities and their natural -concomitants. Dense woods, craggy mountain-sides and the borders of -streams are noted places of resort. Lowlands, especially such as are -invested with thick growths of small bushes and tall, rank grasses, are -not infrequently chosen. When in search of food and gravel, they are -known to quit their favorite haunts and betake themselves to the open -road, where groups may be seen absorbed in feeding, but not to that -extent, however, when the rustle of a moving leaf or the crackling of -a twig would pass unnoticed. The slightest noise causes a temporary -suspension of labor and a momentary shudder of surprise. All of a -sudden, and in the most perfect harmony, all heads are raised and -pointing in the direction whence the noise emanated. The keen vision -of these birds is not slow in discerning, through the gloomy recesses, -the presence of danger; but should nothing of an alarming nature -manifest itself, a short parley ensues and business is resumed, though -not with the same earnestness and lack of care, however, as before. -Greater caution is now observable, and every effort taken to prevent an -ambuscade. But let the cause of the alarm, a dog or a man, be close at -hand, and the birds immediately strike for the cover, either on foot -or by means of flight, the latter method only being adopted in extreme -cases, when the other course would be attended by disaster and probable -ruin. In the exercise of their cursorial powers, they move with -remarkable swiftness, as with head depressed and tail expanded they run -for their lives. A pile of brushwood or an impenetrable jungle, when -near, is rendered subservient. There they manage to conceal themselves -for a time and thus recover breath. Closely pursued, and in danger -of being trampled upon by the foot of the huntsman or lacerated by -the fangs of his quadrupedal friend, they await the opportune moment, -when, with sudden whirring wings, they cleave the elastic ether and -vigorously press forward to some transitory haven of security, but only -to fall once more in the way of their relentless persecutors. These -flights are so well timed and so unexpected that many an experienced -gunner is thrown off his guard, and when, at last, he has recovered -from his surprise and collected his thoughts, feels vexed at himself -for allowing his equanimity to become unsettled by so familiar a -stratagem. He finds it useless to repine, but endeavors to choke down -the bitter sigh of disappointment that arises as he presses forward to -further adventures. - -Like the common barnyard fowl, these Grouse are strictly gregarious, -especially during the autumnal and winter months. The flocks they form -vary in numbers, and when disturbed, while feeding, scatter in all -directions, each member seeking only its own individual safety and -well-being. But after the lapse of a few minutes, becoming reassured, -they gather simultaneously about the same spot, travelling the entire -distance on foot. The utmost circumspection and vigilance are always -exercised in these backward movements. Scarcity of food occasionally -causes these birds, where very numerous in mountainous districts, to -migrate to other places. These journeys are usually undertaken about -the middle of October, they then being in excellent order and in -great demand for the table. Audubon witnessed, in the fall of 1820, -an immense number _in transitu_ from Ohio, Indiana and Illinois to -Kentucky, many of whom became a prey to man. This disposition to lead -a roving, migratory life is, as a general thing, not hereditary, and -consequently is seldom undertaken, plenty of food usually being found -in localities which these birds affect. - -Where there is a paucity of food-materials, such as acorns, the seeds -of the beech and of the various species of birch, they do not hesitate -to devour the buds of the mountain laurel, which impart a poisonous -character to their flesh. When severely hunger-pressed they feed upon -dry bark, the insects that harbor in the creviced trunks and branches -of trees, and even stray to the roads that wander through their gloomy -retreats and peck at the hard, frozen horse-droppings they chance to -encounter. But when spring returns and renews her bond of faith with -Mother Earth, they more than make up for their scanty winter fare and -feast with fastidious appetites upon the now tender and juicy buds -of the black birch, which give a peculiar and toothsome flavor to -their flesh that has acquired for them in some localities the name -of Birch Partridge. For a brief spell every other interest is now -absorbed in that of unrestrained feasting, to which the sexes submit -themselves with all the _abandon_ of civilized humanity. The middle -of March, or the close of the month dedicated by the ancient Romans -to purifications and fastings, when the weather is favorable, marks a -change in their life. This era is announced by a loud drumming noise, -which is everywhere heard. Standing upon a tall rock or a prostrate -log in some secluded woods or other locality, the author of this -noise may be found. His attitude and demeanor needs must be seen to -be appreciated. Once seen, he can never be forgotten. Arrayed in a -brand-new spring suit, he is a being not to be despised. But this is -not all. His beautifully-contracted neck, broad, expanded, fan-like -tail and elevated feather-tufts that ornament both sides of his neck, -as he struts about with all the grace and dignity of some pompous -lord or duke, render him of no mean importance and greatly add to his -attractions. - -But it is his final actions that impress the beholder with wonder -and admiration. The hitherto trailing wings now assume a condition -of rigidity, and commence a firm, but slow, downward and forward -movement, which steadily increases in power and rapidity, until the -swiftly-vibrating wings appear only as a semi-circular outline of mist -above the bird, thus giving rise to a sound which may be appropriately -likened to the reverberations of distant, muttering thunder. These -sounds are most generally heard during the cool hours of the morning, -when his spirits are buoyant after a night of refreshing slumber. But -as the day advances, they are less frequent, and irregular. So nicely -can they be imitated, that many a bird is drawn to his doom, when -advancing, as he supposed, to meet an antagonist. - -As the drumming is as often heard in the fall as in the spring, it has -long been a mooted question as to its significancy as the call-note -of the male during the period of breeding. But there can be no doubt -of the correctness of this interpretation, for incontestable proof -exists of it in the responsive actions of the female. Nuttall is -probably correct in ascribing the autumnal exhibition of the power to -self-gratification, and in affirming it to be, in many instances, “an -instinctive expression of hilarity and vigor.” - -Besides the peculiar drumming sound which the males produce during the -love-season, they give expression to other vocal utterances no less -remarkable. These are generally enunciated when about to arise from the -ground, and consist of two well-defined and characteristic notes. The -first may be described as a sort of cackle, repeated several times in -lively succession; and the other, which closely follows in its wake, -as a peculiar lisping whistle, which has not inaptly been compared to -the cry of a young bird. These notes doubtless play a considerable part -in the reconciliation and bringing together of the sexes after their -temporary separation. - -[Illustration: RUFFED GROUSE IN SPRING-TIME. - -Two Males Displaying Their Graces Before a Lone Female.] - -While the courting-season lasts, it is not an uncommon occurrence to -find a single male in the midst of several females before whom he is -engaged in showing off his many good qualities and graces, or two -males displaying, upon the same fallen log, the excellent beauties of -their person and movements. In the former dilemma, enamored of so -many, he is sometimes disposed to be gay and trifling, dallying with -the affections of some pure, simple-minded female. The most cruel -flirtations are often indulged in. But when he does bring himself -earnestly down to the business of choosing a partner, he does not go -about it in an uncertain, hesitating manner, but makes his selection -with promptness and dispatch. The successful female, proud of the honor -conferred, at the call of her lord, forsakes the group of her unmarried -sisters, and follows wheresoever he leadeth. The warmest tokens of -affection and regard are lavished upon the elected bride, and woe to -the rival who should appear upon the scene while these amours are being -enacted. Should this event occur, the intruder is instantly assailed, -and a long and bloody battle ensues, which results in the death of -one or other of the combatants, but never in the complete vanquishment -of the defensive party. Instances are known where males have treated -their first loves with cruel indifference, and subsequently deserted -them, but such things could not otherwise be, as will be seen when -the question of polygamy comes to be considered, for it is a fact, -not generally known, that both birds are slightly promiscuous, the -tendency being more pronounced, however, upon the part of the male. In -the case where a single female is courted by two males, the successful -competitor for the honor of her hand, so to speak, is he whose -movements are marked by the greatest elegance and grace. So intense -does the desire to please become, that the slightest disposition upon -the part of the lady to favor one of the rivals rather than the other, -leads to the most unhappy consequences, a quarrel being precipitated, -the contestants seeming determined to settle the result by the gage of -battle. - -The time of mating varies somewhat with climate and with the conditions -of the season. In the warm, sunny South it occurs late in March or -early in April. But further North, where winter still lingers with -frosty coldness, the latter month is well nigh verging to its close, or -gliding into the succeeding, before this essential business is thought -of. When, however, it does happen, the female, with but little waste -of time, withdraws from the society of her partner, and repairs to a -secluded spot in the midst of a woods, where, usually beneath a clump -of evergreen, or a pile of brush, or perhaps a fallen log or projecting -rock, she hastily scratches a few dry leaves together for a nest. There -she deposits, one by one, on as many consecutive days, her complement -of six to twelve eggs, and immediately enters upon the duties of -incubation. In this she is alone, the male lending no assistance, not -even indirectly by attending to her demands for food. While she is -thus occupied he seeks the company of others of his sex, with whom -he remains until the young are nearly full-grown, when he joins the -family, and dwells with it until spring. The period of incubation -ranges from nineteen to twenty days. - -When first hatched the young follow the mother, and soon learn to -comprehend her clucking call, as well as to act responsively thereto. -Few mothers are more devoted to their children, and it is rare to -find one more courageous and wily in their defence. Let the family -be surprised by friend or foe, a single note of alarm is all that is -necessary to cause the brood to scatter, and with the most clever -adroitness to hide themselves beneath a bunch of leaves or grass. -So successfully is the concealment accomplished, that a careful and -protracted search is often necessary to discover their whereabouts. -Often, when squatting by the roadside with her brood, the parent is -taken unawares. This is the trial which she of all others seems to -dread. To save her little ones she perils her own life by venturing -upon an assault. Her first impulse is to fly at the face of the -intruder, but sober thought comes to her rescue and teaches her the -folly of such a course. She yields to the thought and the very next -moment we find her tumbling over and over upon the ground, apparently -in the deepest distress, but soon to recover her self-possession in -time to carry out the final piece upon the programme, a _ruse_ in which -lameness is imitated with wonderful ingenuity. While the mother is -thus agitated, the birdlings are seen to scamper in every direction -to places of shelter. Having accomplished her part, the happy mother -now flies away, and by her well-known cluck soon gathers her brood -together. The cry of the young is a simple _peet_, which is heard -repeatedly during feeding, but only occasionally while nestling. -Their food consists of the seeds of various plants and berries. While -able to search for their own food, they derive, however, considerable -assistance from the mother. - -Such cunning, wee creatures, when first they leave the egg, can only -be compared with the young of the domestic hen. Dressed in a simple -garb, they look but little like their parents. Above they show a -reddish-brown or rufous coloring, which fades into a rusty-white below. -Excepting a dusky streak which starts from the posterior part of the -eye and crosses the auricular regions obliquely downward, and a whitish -bill, they have nothing to diversify the monotony of their plumage. But -when they have attained the age of four or five months, they show their -heredity so plainly that their identity cannot be disputed or mistaken. - -In the adult, the tail is reddish-brown or gray above, with narrow bars -of black. Terminally, it is crossed by a slender band of pale ash, -which is preceded by a broader one of black, and this by another of an -ashy color. The upper parts are ochraceous-brown, and finely mottled -with grayish markings. The lower parts are chiefly white, with broad -transverse bars of light brown, which are mostly hidden from view upon -the abdomen. Upon the shoulders the shafts of the feathers have pale -streaks, which also exist in those of the wing-coverts. The upper -tail-coverts and the wings are marked with pale, grayish cordate spots, -while the lower tail-coverts are pale ochraceous, each being provided -with a terminal delta-shaped spot of white, which is bordered with -dusky. The neck-tufts are brownish-black. The male measures eighteen -inches in length, and has a breadth of wings of seven and two-tenths -inches. The tail is about seven inches long. The female is smaller than -the latter, with similar colors, but has less prominent tufts upon the -sides of the neck. - -The eggs of this species are usually of a uniform dark-cream color, -but sometimes show a nearly pure-white ground. In most specimens there -are no markings at all, but when they do occur, are either quite -numerous and conspicuous, or few in number, and obscure. They are -usually ovoidal, but forms are occasionally met with which are nearly -spherical. Their average dimensions, as obtained from specimens from -the most diverse localities, are about 1.64 by 1.18 inches. As far as -known the species never produces more than a single brood annually, -usually nesting, as has been previously stated, on the ground, but -instances are recorded by Samuels, where the female has occupied a -crow’s nest, or the shelter of some tall broken trunk of a tree. - - - - -AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. - - -Little is known of the early history of the domestic Turkey. Writers -of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries seem to have been ignorant -about it, and to have regarded it as the guinea-fowl or pintado of the -ancients, a mistake which was not cleared up until the middle of the -last century. The name it now bears, and which it received in England, -where it is reputed to have been introduced in 1541, was given to it -from the supposition that it came originally from Turkey. As far back -as 1573 we read of it as having been the Christmas fare of sturdy -British yeomanry. - -Oviedo, a Spanish writer, speaks of it as a kind of peacock that was -once very abundant in New Spain, as Mexico was called in his day, and -which had already, in 1526, been transported in a domestic condition to -the West Indies and the Spanish Main, where it was maintained by the -Christian settlers. - -Among the luxuries possessed by Montezuma, the proud, dignified, -semi-cultured monarch of the Aztecs, was one of the most extensive -zoölogical gardens on record. Representatives of nearly all of the -animals of the country over which he reigned, as well as others, -brought at great expense from long distances, were to be found within -its walls. Turkeys, it is said, were daily supplied in large numbers to -the carnivores of his menagerie. - -Respecting the time when this bird was first reclaimed in Mexico from -its wild state, there can be no idea. Probably it has been domesticated -from remote antiquity. No doubt exists, however, as to its being reared -by the Mexicans at the period of the Spanish Conquest, and of its -subsequent introduction into Europe, either from New Spain, or from the -West India Islands, into which it had been previously carried. - -[Illustration: MEXICAN WILD TURKEY. - -Ancestor of the Domestic Bird.] - -Audubon, one of the early pioneers of American ornithology, supposed -our common barnyard Turkey to have originated in the wild bird so -prevalent in the eastern half of our great country. But it has always -been a matter of surprise to naturalists that the latter did not -assimilate, by interbreeding and reversion, more intimately in color -and habits to the domestic form. No suspicion, until recently, appears -to have been entertained that the two birds might belong to different -species. That such is the true _status_ of things, there is now no -reasonable doubt. - -Our common Wild Turkey, once so plentiful in Pennsylvania, is now -restricted to the more eastern and southern portions of the United -States, while in the parts of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado and Arizona -adjacent to the southern Rocky Mountains, and thence stretching -southward along the eastern slope of Mexico as far as Orizaba, -there exists another form, essentially different, which, by way of -distinction, has been popularly called the Mexican Turkey. It is from -this species, and not from the other, as has been erroneously supposed -and taught, that the domestic fowl has been derived. Even in this -enlightened age, with so many ornithological teachers on every hand, we -see this mistake propagated by such as know better, and whose business -it is, or ought to be, to have a care that truth shall prevail. - -Between the wild bird of Eastern North America and the Mexican and -typical barnyard fowls there are differences which must be apparent -even to the most superficial observer. The extremities of the -tail-feathers, as well as the feathers overlying the base of the tail, -are in the latter creamy or fulvous white, while in the former they are -of a decided chestnut-brown color. Other characteristics exist, but -these only become evident to the keen-sighted ornithologist. - -The difficulty experienced in establishing a cross between our wild -and tame birds, shows that they are not as closely related as was once -supposed. Did a near kinship subsist, interbreeding could most readily -be accomplished. With the Mexican Turkey, matters are otherwise. That a -relationship does obtain between the domestic bird and the latter--its -wild original--there can be no question, as specimens of the -naturalized species are often met with which are nearly the counterpart -of its Mexican progenitor, differing only in the greater development -of the fatty appendages of the head and neck, differences which may -be accounted for as the effects of the influences to which the birds -have been subjected by man. No well-authenticated instances of similar -reversions to our once familiar Eastern bird have been known to occur, -which would necessarily have been the case had they been so closely -related as was once maintained. - -_Meleagris Mexicana_ affects sparsely-overgrown savannas, and occupies -in Mexico the region of the oaks and the coast--the _tierra caliente_ -of geographers. It is a very wary bird, and lives in families. Insects -of divers kinds, but chiefly of a coleopterous character, as well as -the seeds of grasses, constitute its bill of fare. When searching for -food, especially in perilous localities, a sentinel is stationed on the -outskirts of the flock, whose duty it is to announce the presence of -danger. Flight is seldom resorted to at such times, for these birds, -being fleeter of foot than the swiftest dog, are able to escape their -enemies by running. - -Toward the close of March, or in the beginning of April, the hens -separate from the males, and seek for themselves nesting-places in -secluded localities. The nest is anything but an elaborate affair, -consisting of a few dry leaves or grasses scratched into a depression -by the side of a prostrate log. Here the eggs--twelve beautiful, oval, -speckled treasures--are laid, and for thirty long, weary days and -nights they are sat upon by their author in her efforts to warm them -into life. When she leaves them, which she does a short time each day -for food, she always takes the necessary precaution to cover them -with leaves, as a protection against cold and intrusion. Nothing will -tempt her to quit the nest when the young are about to be hatched. So -absorbed does she then become that she has been known to submit to -capture rather than endanger the lives of her offspring. - -No human mother manifests deeper affection for her children than does -this bird of the prairie for hers. She fondles and dries them after -they have escaped from their prison-houses, and tenderly helps them out -of the nest. It is now that her cares may be said to commence. Where -their interest and well-being are concerned, hardly any responsibility -is too great for her to assume. She leads them into pleasant pastures, -teaches them to know good from bad foods, and acquaints them with -all the devices and subterfuges practised for eluding man and other -enemies. But it is not long that they are thus subservient to maternal -wisdom and forethought, for in fourteen days they are old enough to -scratch for a living, and to seek shelter and security from lawlessness -and cruelty. Their _menu_ consists of wheat, berries, grasses, -earth-worms, and all kinds of terrestrial insects. - -When summer is over, the different families of the same neighborhood -come together, unite in one large flock, and travel over the country -for food. The males emerge from their meeting-places and join the -moving army, and parents and young have nothing to do but to feed -vigorously and grow fat. Late in October, or early in November, they -begin to attract the attention of gunners, and thousands are killed -for the market, where they are in eager demand by all lovers of good -living. - - - - -AMERICAN OSPREY. - - -_Pandion haliætus_, as the Fish Hawk or Osprey is called in -ornithological language, is found from the fur region surrounding -Hudson’s Bay to Central America, and from Labrador to Florida, -excepting Boston Harbor, on the Atlantic Coast, and almost from Alaska -to the southern extremity of the peninsula of Lower California on the -Pacific seaboard. Birds have been known to nest on the rocky islands -of California, and about Sitka, according to Bischoff, as well as -along the small streams in the vicinity of Nulato. From Long Island to -Chesapeake they breed in vast communities, which often number several -hundred pairs, but away from the sea-coast they are only occasionally -met with on the margins of rivers and lakes. Dr. Hayden found several -pairs nesting on the summit of high cottonwood trees in the Wind River -Mountains, and Mr. Allen observed the birds particularly abundant -about the lakes of the Upper St. John’s River in Florida, six nests -being noticeable within a single circle of vision. Salvin claims that -they nest on both coasts of Central America, but more especially about -Balize, although on the islands of Trinidad, St. Croix, Jamaica and -Cuba they are seen at all times except during the breeding-season. - -Below Philadelphia, and in the south-eastern counties of Pennsylvania -bordering on the Delaware, individuals have been occasionally observed. -Their arrival is about the beginning of March, often when the streams -which they frequent are fettered with icy bonds, and their departure -occurs about the twenty-fifth of September, and frequently, especially -when the weather is remarkably fine, as late as the fifteenth of -October. Well-established communities, numbering more than fifty pairs, -have been met within the swamps of Southern New Jersey, among whom the -best order and most perfect harmony prevailed. Few species display -less shyness and greater confidence, or are more eminently social, as -is particularly shown when these birds take up their quarters in close -proximity to occupied dwellings, or by the side of frequented by-paths -and highways. Where undisturbed, the same localities are visited year -after year. Their exclusive piscine habits secure for them free and -unlimited sway in their carefully chosen abodes, for the poultry has -nothing to fear, and the smaller birds are not intimidated by their -presence and sent screaming to their coverts as they do even when -pursued by the little sparrow hawk. Wilson cites a case where four -nests of the common purple grackle were built within the interstices -of an Osprey’s nest, and a fifth on an adjoining branch, and the -Osprey was quite tolerant of such intrusion and freedom. The writer -has observed a nest of the grackle built in a similar position, while -all around the great Hawk’s home, and scarcely five rods distant, were -nests of the robin, wood thrush, red-winged blackbird and others, and -no annoyance was known to occur, the Ospreys carefully attending to -their own business and scarcely noticing their more humble brethren. - -Their bitterest enemy is the white-headed eagle, against whom the -united attacks of many of these birds are concentrated when he has the -audacity to venture within their hunting-grounds or breeding-quarters, -for they are too familiar with his powerful muscularity and courageous -disposition to attempt a single attack. When an Osprey is pursued by -this king of the forest and hunting-ground, his loud, vociferous cries -of distress, resounding far and near, evoke an army of defenders, -who come with all possible speed to wreak vengeance upon the great -arch-enemy of their pleasures and happiness. These attacks are made -for the purpose of compelling the Osprey to drop his prey or disgorge, -which the superior bird, if his efforts have been successful, pounces -down upon and seizes before it has had time to reach the water or -ground. - -[Illustration: NEST OF AMERICAN OSPREY. - -Manner of Securing Food for Young.] - -Powerful as the flight of the Fish Hawk is, yet it is never very high, -nor much protracted. While skimming over the water’s surface, even at a -moderate elevation, his quick eye soon descries his quarry, and, in an -instant, he pounces down with tremendous force below the water’s level, -often to a great distance, but seldom missing his prey. Arising from -his watery bath, he moves off to a suitable perch to digest his meal at -leisure. But should the movement attract the keen vision of the bald -eagle, who is generally waiting in some secret covert, or sailing so -high up in the air as to be almost invisible, the Osprey swallows his -victim if small, or seeks to bear it away in his talons to a position -of shelter and safety, but, rather than endure the too near approach of -his more powerful relative, drops it to the infinite delight and great -satisfaction of the latter. Where a suitable tree, or a commanding -stump, presents itself by the side of his chosen fishing-grounds, he -may be seen perched thereon for hours together, gazing into the liquid -depths below for the finny tribes that sport therein, and ever and anon -swooping down with amazing velocity and bearing up in his resistless -talons the squirming victim. In shallow places his mode of capture -is regulated in conformity with their character, gliding over their -surface and clutching at his victims as they come within sight. - -The food of the Osprey consists mainly of fish, although the reptiles -and batrachians that inhabit the swamps and marshes wherein he builds -do not escape his vigilance. Almost all kinds of fish, except the -very largest, which would be more than a match for his strength, are -captured and devoured with avidity. We have watched with a great deal -of interest and pleasure his piscatorial pursuits on the shores of -Delaware Bay, and have often seen him bear from great depths fish much -larger than the common shad. The latter, together with the herring, -striped bass and black bass, are favorite articles of diet, while his -catchings from fresh-water streams, the larger cyprinidonts, cat-fish -and pumpkin-seed, are quite as great luxuries. - -When the nesting-time comes around, the last of April or the beginning -of May, these birds are not so engrossed with the thoughts of feeding -as to be utterly oblivious of the duties which it imposes. Generally -the same nest is selected year after year, but when a new one is to -be constructed it is not uncommon to find many pairs engaged in its -building, the friends of the destitute assembling and laboring with the -most determined energy till its completion. A more sociable disposition -could hardly be conceived. The spirit which would lead these birds -to fly to the assistance of a distressed companion would certainly -induce them to co-operate with their brethren in the difficult task of -nest-building, especially when such a bulky structure as the species -is known to construct would severely task both the time and patience -of the pair which is to occupy it. The vast amount of labor and time -expended in rearing such a fabric is a sufficient inducement for them -not to want to indulge in such employment any more than is absolutely -necessary. Hence these nests are constructed for durability. Unlike -his European congener, whose nest is placed upon a high cliff, the -Osprey almost invariably builds on trees. All nests taken by the writer -have seldom been at a greater elevation than fifteen feet, although -instances have been recorded where they were twice that height. It is a -remarkable fact that the trees supporting these nests are always dead -and generally placed in the midst of marshy ground, either completely -isolated or surrounded by a dense growth of bushes. At all events, they -occupy rather conspicuous positions. It is probable that the excrement -of the birds or the saline character of their food has much to do with -killing the nesting-trees. Trees which seem vigorous and thrifty at -first manifest after a year’s occupancy unmistakable signs of death. -Not always are trees selected for nesting purposes, for a Mr. W. H. -Edwards describes a nest built on a tall cliff on the banks of the -Hudson River, not very far from West Point. - -Externally the nest is composed of large sticks piled to a height -varying from two to five feet, and measuring fully three feet in -diameter. Corn-stalks, mullein-stocks and bark are occasionally -intermingled with the sticks, but within there is a rather profuse -lining of sea-weed and the long grasses which grow so luxuriantly in -salt-water marshes. The cavity ranges from fourteen to fifteen inches -in diameter, and is unusually shallow in proportion to the size of the -nest. - -Three eggs constitute the usual nest-complement, although two -are sometimes laid, and rarely four, and these are deposited -on consecutive or alternate days, at the rate of one egg a day. -They measure about two and one-half inches in length and one and -three-fourths in width, and are of a yellowish-white color, thickly -covered with large blotches of different shades of brown. Incubation -follows close upon the last deposit, the task being begun by the -female, and devolving principally upon her, although the male -occasionally relieves her for a brief spell each day. While she is -on the nest, he is a jealous husband and a most faithful provider. -The choicest catch of his piscatorial exploits is carried directly to -the nest and ungrudgingly administered to the patient sitter. When -not engaged in providing for their wants he stations himself upon an -adjoining tree, if such should happen to be present, or somewhere in -the immediate neighborhood, and exercises the closest surveillance over -the nest and its occupant. All attempts at intrusion are most summarily -punished. Dr. Brewer mentions a case where a lad essayed to reach the -nest in order to rob it of its eggs, when he was assailed with so much -violence that the male’s talons were driven through a cloth cap that he -wore and laid bare the scalp. Experience has proved the risk incurred -in visiting these nests with hostile intentions. You may pass and -repass underneath the nest, the authors criticising your every movement -the while, without calling forth the slightest opposition. When, -however, you attempt to mount the tree that contains their cherished -treasures, you virtually invite the full measure of their wrath. That -the male is affectionately devoted to his partner is shown by Wilson in -a case which he cites of a female who was prevented from fishing by a -broken leg and that was abundantly supplied with food by her mate. - -When the young appear they are objects of more than common parental -solicitude, the parents vying with each other in rendering them every -needed attention and in providing them with a plentiful supply of -suitable food. But one parent is absent from the nest at a time, the -other remaining at home to guard against danger. They are ravenous -feeders, and soon attain to full development, when they resemble -very closely in dress their parents, having the upper parts spotted -with pale reddish-brown or white. Adult birds are dark-brown or -grayish-brown above, with most of the head, neck and under parts white, -the chest in the female, and sometimes in the male, being spotted with -brown. The tail, usually paler than the back, has six or seven dusky -bars, and is tipped with white. - -That these birds may be fitted for powerful flight they are provided -with long and pointed wings, the second and third quills being the -longest. They have a stout bill, with a very long hook and sharp end. -Their feathers are oily to resist water, those of the head being -lengthened and pointed, and of the thighs and a little of the front -parts of the tarsi short and close together. The legs, tarsi and feet -are very strong and robust, and the claws all of the same length and -very large and sharp. Rough scales completely invest the tarsi, and -the toes are padded below and covered with numerous hard-pointed -projections to aid in holding their slippery prey. The iris in some -specimens is reddish, but mostly yellow; the bill and claws blue-black, -and the tarsi and toes grayish-blue. Male birds are not so large as the -females, the latter measuring twenty-five inches in length, and with an -extent of wings of fifty-two inches. - - - - -TURKEY BUZZARD. - - -Few species, if any, have a wider distribution in America than the -Turkey Buzzard. It is found more or less abundantly to the Saskatchewan -throughout North America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Coast, -and in all portions of South America as far south as the Strait of -Magellan. Individuals have been met with in Nova Scotia and New -Brunswick, though these birds are generally not common north of Central -New Jersey. From Eastern Maine, in the neighborhood of Calais, to -Connecticut, specimens have occasionally been captured. In a single -instance, Mr. Lawrence observed a small company of nine at Rockaway, -Long Island. West of the Alleghenies, from Central America nearly to -the Arctic regions, it occurs more abundantly. Without exception, it is -found in greater or less numbers in all the Middle, Western, Southern -and North-western States. From Lower California to Washington, along -the Pacific, numerous parties attest to its common occurrence. The West -Indies, the islands of Cuba, Jamaica and Trinidad, the last-named in -particular, include it within their faunæ. Honduras and Guatemala, as -well as the Falkland Islands, off the eastern coast of Patagonia, are -permanent residing-places. - -In Pennsylvania and New Jersey, where the writer has had abundant -opportunities for studying the species, these Vultures summer quite -plentifully. From their first appearance, in March, large numbers -may be seen high up in the air, moving in large circles, apparently -exploring the ground below for their favorite articles of food. In -rural districts they are, however, more frequently observed than -in the vicinity of densely-populated towns, the greater abundance -of carrion to be met with in the former places doubtless being the -cause of this preference. But in California and Oregon, according to -Dr. Newberry, they are quite as common near towns as about the large -rivers. In our Southern States they visit cities and large villages, -and play the part of scavengers in company with the black vulture. They -are said to be so tame and unsuspicious in Kingston, Jamaica, that they -roost upon the house-tops or prey upon offal in the streets. In country -places they are no less familiar and trustful, as is evidenced while -feeding. So intent upon their business are they at this time that the -presence of human beings is unnoticed, and even when forced to forsake -their booty they sullenly repair to a short distance, only to resume -their feeding when the annoyance has passed. The common crow has been -observed to gather around the same food, and the utmost good-feeling -prevailed. A small flock will often settle down upon a dead horse -around which several dogs have gathered. The snapping and snarling -of the dogs, when they approach them too closely, do not cause the -Vultures to retire, but only to step a few paces aside, when, nothing -daunted, they continue their feeding, apparently oblivious of their -whereabouts and surroundings. - -Although the sense of sight is rather keenly developed in these birds, -yet that of smell is none the less so. This is an advantage, for both -the visual and olfactory organs seem requisite in the determination of -the presence of decaying animal matters. As a proof that smell leads -to food-detection, Dr. Brewer cites an instance, on the authority of -Dr. Hill, where several of these birds were attracted to the house of a -German emigrant who was prostrated by fever, being drawn by the strong -odor escaping from his neglected food which had become putrid. Mr. G. -C. Taylor, whilst a resident of Kingston, sufficiently tested their -power of smell. He wrapped the carcass of a bird in a piece of paper, -and flung the parcel into the summit of a densely-leaved tree, that -stood in close proximity to his window. A moment or two only elapsed, -when the keen smell of these birds scented something edible, but they -were unable to find it, obviously for the reason that it was hidden -from view by the enveloping paper. - -Generally their food consists of all kinds of animal matter. They are -often accused of sucking eggs, and also of eating the young of herons, -as well as those of other birds. In Trinidad, they are said to live -on friendly terms with the poultry. As no breach of faith has been -reported to have occurred in this instance, it is not likely that -they would molest in any way our smaller birds, at least we are not -cognizant of any such cases of interference from our own observation, -nor do we find them in the recorded experiences of friends. They -are worse-disposed, it seems to us, to their own kith. When several -are feeding together, most violent wrangles occur over the booty. -Each strives to get the lion’s share. It is amusing to witness their -manœuvres. Some luckless fellow has just discovered a choice and racy -bit, which he is endeavoring to make off with in a somewhat hurried -manner, when instantly he is beset by a near companion, who has -scarcely swallowed his own morsel. A conflict ensues. The latter, being -the stronger, succeeds after a little in defrauding the other of his -rightful property. When gorged, these birds are stupid and indisposed -to exertion, the period of digestion ordinarily being passed in a -motionless, listless attitude, with half-opened wings. - -Recovered from their semi-stupid condition, they do not at once go to -feeding again, but spend a long time in the healthful exercise of their -volant appendages. Few birds are more graceful, easy and dignified -while on the wing. On the ground they may seem awkward, but it is -while soaring at a great height above the earth that they are seen in -all their glory. When prepared for lofty flights, they spring from -the ground with a single bound, and, after a few quick flappings of -wings, move heavenward. Attaining a great elevation, they cleave the -ether in ever-widening circles, or sail on nearly horizontal wings, the -tips being slightly raised, with steady, uniform motion. These aerial -diversions, for such they seem to be, are never performed singly, but -in small parties of a dozen or more, being more common in early spring, -and at the close of the breeding-season, than at any other time. It is -to be observed further that these movements are executed in silence, -the only sounds which the Buzzards are capable of producing being a -kind of hiss, which has not inaptly been compared to the seething noise -emitted by plunging a hot iron in a vessel of water. - -When ready to breed these birds look about for a hollow tree, or some -stump or log in a state of decay, either upon the ground, or slightly -above it. Generally, there are no indications of a nest. In occasional -instances a few rotten leaves, scratched into the hollow selected for -the deposition of the eggs, constitute the nest, these treasures being -laid without any previous care for their preservation and shelter -being taken. In Southern New Jersey the nest has been inadvertently -strayed upon in the midst of a deep and almost impenetrable morass, -where it was found placed upon a hollow stump. Within the rocky -caverns along the wide, shallow Susquehanna, as many as a dozen nests -have been counted in a few hundred yards of space, often as early as -the last week of March in favorable seasons, but generally not till -the middle of April. When the winters are not extremely rigorous, a -few individuals remain in the vicinity of their breeding-quarters -throughout the entire year. We have found the birds breeding in -Delaware County, Pa., towards the latter part of April or the beginning -of May, but in Philadelphia they rarely do, if they breed at all. In -Southern Ohio they are a common summer sojourner. Speaking of the birds -in Jamaica, Mr. Gosse says they nest in depressions in the rocks and in -the ledges thereof, in retired localities and also upon inaccessible -cliffs. On Galveston Island Audubon found the birds nesting in great -numbers, either under wide-spreading cactus branches or underneath low -bushes in the midst of tall grasses in level saline marshes. - -In the vicinity of Cheraw, S. C., Dr. C. Kollock met with the black -vulture and our present species in swamps and dense forests, where they -congregate in vast numbers throughout the entire year. These places -are commonly designated Buzzards’ roosts. Audubon once visited one of -these roosts in the vicinity of Charleston, which covered more than two -acres of ground, and which was completely denuded of vegetation. On the -banks of many of the rivers of Southern Texas, Mr. Dresser found them -nesting in large numbers, the timber along their borders constituting -comfortable and secure shelter; but, contrary to what has always been -entertained, he affirms that they build large and bulky nests of -sticks, which they place at great heights in an oak or cypress, close -by the river-banks. Captain C. C. Abbott says that in the Falkland -Islands the eggs are deposited in the midst of bushes beneath high -banks, or on the summits of decayed balsam logs, during the early -part of November. In certain localities, where the birds are not very -common, paired individuals are not infrequently found. - -Two eggs generally constitute a nest-full, although instances are known -where but a single egg was deposited. On the Falkland Islands they -are said to lay three occasionally. In the West Indies, especially -in the Bahamas, the complement is the same as in the United States, -and there does not seem to be any difference in the habits of the -birds in the two places. Specimens from New Jersey, Texas, Florida -and South Carolina are creamy-white in ground, and are variously -marked with shades of brown, intermingled with splashes of lavender -and purple, which are often so faint as to be perceptible only upon -close examination. Brewer mentions a variety from near Cheraw, S. C., -that was nearly pure white, and which showed but a few small red and -slightly purplish lines and dots about the larger extremity. Recently -we have met with some from Texas answering the same description. In -dimensions these eggs vary but little, and have, on the average, a -length of 2.78 inches, and a width of 2.00, or rather less. - -_Cathartes aura_, as the Turkey Buzzard is known by the scientific -naturalist, is far from being demonstrative in the expression of her -feelings. When her home is assailed, she makes no ado, but quietly -slips out, and seemingly contemplates its desecration with indifference. - -Though manifesting a passive disposition in the face of human -interference, yet she is not always the gentle being she would have us -believe, as shown by the spirit of dominancy she displays over her own -household. - -Unlike many of her neighbors, she does not entirely assume the -responsibilities of brood-raising, permitting her partner the happy -enjoyment of a life of luxurious ease, but, believing in the doctrine -of a proper division of labor, forces upon him his share of the work. - -Whilst she thus appears unduly exacting towards him, she is equally so -to her offspring. Few mothers know better than she the right training -of their children, so as to fit them to become useful and respectable -members of society. - -This is no figment of the imagination, as will presently be seen. It -was while exploring a section of Delaware County of this State for -minerals in the summer of 1894 that some interesting facts were learned -of the relation subsisting between her and the rest of her family. - -Having accidentally strayed upon a young ground hog which had but -recently been killed, the writer resolved to carry it home and place -it where it could be seen or scented by the Buzzards, so that he might -have an opportunity of making a more intimate acquaintance with these -birds than he had ever before been able to make. - -Accordingly the dead animal was transported to a meadow overlooked by -the house he was occupying. The resolution was well taken, for on the -fourth day after the deposit had been made several Buzzards were seen -circling high overhead, mere specks against the blue dome of the sky, -evidently scanning the earth beneath with their telescopic vision for -the presence of food, or endeavoring to scent it with their keen sense -of smell. - -Nearer and nearer the flock drew earthward, till finally, a full -hour being spent in graceful manœuvring, the birds settled down upon -the green-carpeted meadow, but a few yards from the carrion that lay -festering with vermin. - -Their feathers adjusted, and folded to rest their wide-spreading -pinions, the young, in obedience to orders, as it seemed, leaped on -to a huge pine log that lay near by, while the old folks surveyed, -wistfully and long, from their standpoint of observation on the ground, -the odorous carrion a few feet away, as if whetting their appetites for -the feast they were soon to enjoy. - -With a few quick steps, that were meant to be graceful, the female -drew near, but the male lingered doubtingly behind. In a trice she was -busy at work, tearing with claw and with bill the daintiest morsels. -Rendered mad by the smell of the food the male, no longer seeming -backward, pressed forward to her side, but only to retreat before her -savage assaults. Again he essayed the attempt, and was beaten back as -he had been before. Convinced that further effort would be useless, -he strode sulkily to a distance, where, in moody contemplation, he -nervously awaited her ladyship’s sweet pleasure. - -Being filled to the full the female now moved lazily away to a clean -patch of grass, where she immediately set to work to arranging her -toilet,--wiping her bill and her claws upon the green carpet before -her, craning her neck and stretching her pinions, yawning and gaping -and gaping and yawning,--and finally ending all by seeking the topmost -rail of a near-by fence for rest and composure. - -With nothing to fear, the male now stalked complacently forward, and -was soon hard at work at what was left of the carcass. His appetite -less capacious than that of his lady, his dinner was soon over, and -off strode he too to a fresh spot of grass, where he went through the -same process of wiping his mouth and stretching and yawning, which, -being finished, he mounted the rail by the side of his mistress. - -[Illustration: FEMALE TURKEY BUZZARD DINING. - -Male and Young Awaiting Her Ladyship’s Pleasure.] - -More interesting far than either the parents were the three black -creatures that stood upon the pine log. Fixed to the spot as though -they had grown there, with scarcely moving heads and downcast eyes they -eagerly watched the food disappearing, wondering, mayhap, as children -are prone to do, if it would all disappear before they had a chance of -testing its virtues, but maintaining their souls the while in perfect -serenity of repose. But their time had at length arrived, and down from -the log they cast themselves _instanter_, three lusty fellows as large -as the parents, but one of them, from his limping gait, proving to be -lame. Great consideration was shown the disabled one by the others, -who permitted him to feed first, while they stood aside until he had -satisfied his hunger, when, without the least bit of ceremony, or the -least indication of ill-nature or selfishness, they too set to work, -finishing in quick order whatever edible was left of the dead animal. -Their actions after feeding were exactly the counterpart of those of -the parents. Having finished their toilet, the three sought the rail -by the side of the father, where, like their illustrious heads, they -were soon occupied with the most self-satisfying thoughts, utterly -oblivious, as it seemed, of time and surroundings. - -More than an hour was thus spent in drowsy meditation, when, as by -common consent, they all, one after the other, leaped to the ground, -where they busied themselves preening their feathers and preparing -for departure. The time being ripe, the female set the example. With -a run of a half-dozen yards to gain a good start, she was soon on the -wing, and in fifteen minutes or more was lost in the ether. The male -followed suit, and when he had vanished from sight, the young, one -after another, mounted the atmosphere, and gradually circling their way -through its limitless depths, were also soon lost to the earth-chained -beholder. - -Concluding this brief chapter of bird-history, we have a few brief -comments to make. To the uninitiated in science matters, the -statements just made must seem well nigh incredible. But there were -other witnesses of the facts, just and reliable observers, too, -whose testimony could be appealed to, to settle all doubts of their -authenticity. From all that has been said, it cannot but be evident -that the female was the acknowledged head of the family, a sort of -feathered autocrat, whose will was the law by which the family was -governed. Even the male, who did not always respect her authority, -especially where her interests conflicted with his own, was made to -see that might makes right when confronted with her stronger and -more powerful nature. But it was the patience and orderly behavior -that characterized the nearly-grown young, and their sweetness and -gentleness of disposition under the most trying circumstances as well, -that impressed us as extremely wonderful, and led to the opinion that -man-born offspring might here learn a lesson of filial obedience and -respect that would greatly redound to the honor and glory of the race. - -When captured, these birds offer no active resistance, but very -effectually warn off their aggressor by vomiting up the half-putrid -contents of their crop. They will often simulate death at such times. -On one occasion an individual having been shot by Dr. Coues was picked -up for dead. While being carried to the Doctor’s tent, it was perfectly -limp. On reaching his quarters, he carelessly threw it upon the ground, -and went to work at something else. After a little, upon looking -around, he beheld to his great surprise that the bird had changed -position, and was furtively glancing around. On going up to it, its -eyes instantly closed, its body became relaxed, and it lay perfectly -motionless, and apparently lifeless. After compressing its chest for -several minutes until he fancied life extinct, he dropped the bird and -repaired to supper. Upon his return the bird was gone, it evidently -having scrambled into the bushes as soon as he had turned his back upon -it. - -The young, when first hatched, are covered with a whitish down, and are -fed upon half-digested matter which is disgorged by their parents. When -taken from the nest and kept in captivity until fully grown they become -exceedingly tame, and will feed on fresh meat, earthworms, crickets, -grasshoppers, and other large insects, which they apparently relish, -and oftentimes will also eat bits of bread, cake and particles of -apples or pears which are thrown before them. The benefits which these -scavengers render are too well known to need any comment. In the mature -state the plumage of the Buzzard is brownish-black, and more or less -glossy, the quills being paler on the under surface. The skin of the -head and neck is red and wrinkled, and with scattering bristle-like -feathers, the bill whitish, legs and feet pinkish, iris grayish-brown, -and nostrils large and oval. Their length is about thirty inches, -extent of wing seventy-two inches, wing being about twenty-five, and -tail twelve. - - - - -RARE AND CURIOUS NESTS. - - -From time immemorial it has been the current popular belief that -birds of the same species never varied their style of architecture, -but constructed the same form of nest, and out of the same materials, -as their remotest progenitors did, instinct being the principle by -which they were guided. This opinion, though long since exploded by -scientific research, is still, I am sorry to say, entertained by -persons who should know better. An examination of nests from different -and widely-separated localities affords evidence of the most convincing -character of its erroneousness. Most marked differences will always be -found to exist in composing materials, as these are sure to vary with -environment, and in a wider degree in the nests of some than in those -of other species; even configuration, which is less prone to change, is -often influenced by circumstances of position and latitude. - -Among the Thrushes, the nest of the Robin is the most addicted to -variation, and this is not wholly restricted to the constituents of -its usually mud-plastered domicile, but is quite frequently observed -to occur in the arrangement of materials, and in contour and position -as well. Where low marshy woods abound on the outskirts of towns and -villages, as is the case in Southern New Jersey, nests of this species -have been taken that contrasted in a most wonderful manner with those -one is accustomed to see in more northern localities. The great masses -of grayish-green fibrous lichen, which depend from shrub and tree in -sylvan marshes, are most freely used, and from its very nature to mat -when pressed together all necessity for mud is precluded. - -[Illustration: NEST OF THE ROBIN. - -Built Upon a Railroad Cutting.] - -But the most curious nest I have ever met with was built upon a -railroad cutting, where the ground had a slope of more than forty-five -degrees. Such a position for a dwelling of the kind the Robin is known -to build, to one not conversant with the facts, must appear incredible. -But that it was accomplished, the nest itself was the monument of the -builders’ thoughtful skill and labor. A semicircular wall of mud, -eight inches in diameter and five inches in height, constituted the -groundwork, and within the cavity thus formed was reared a coarse, -substantial, bulky fabric, that was entirely composed of the stems of -grasses, leaves and roots, loaded down and held in place by pellets of -mud. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. Dugmore. - -NEST FROM THE TOP. - -SECTION OF TWO-STORIED NEST. - -RED-EYED VIREO’S TWO-STORIED NEST WITH COW-BIRD’S EGG BENEATH] - -A more remarkable position, and one that seemed as difficult to manage, -I shall now relate. Few birds care so little for position as the common -House Wren. Almost any place answers its purpose. Near the little town -of Thornbury, in the State of Pennsylvania, a pair of these birds, in -the summer of 1882, took possession of a derrick, and, as a site for a -home, selected the space over a sheave in one of the stationary blocks, -where, in due time, was deposited their rude, yet comfortable, nest of -sticks and feathers. A similar structure occupied the spot the previous -year, and a brood of eight birds was raised. It was not the elements -of composition of these nests that excited interest and surprise, for -they are not materially different from the usual form, but the strange, -anomalous situation which they occupied. So dexterously were the -materials arranged within the space that the revolution of the wheel -was not in the least interfered with. The nest was approached on the -side facing the rope that moved the pulley. The opposite side could -have been used for this purpose, and doubtless with less danger to life -or limb, but preference seemed to be shown for the other. Why this was -so was for some time a mystery. But when the birds were seen to alight -upon the rope at the top of the derrick and ride down to the nest, the -explanation at once became apparent. - -Never did linnet enjoy the rocking twig, or bobolink the swaying -cat-tail, with half the zest than did these eccentric creatures their -ride down the rope. A hundred times a day, when necessity arose, they -treated themselves to the pleasure, the rope all the while moving at -the rate of thirty feet in a second. Six of the seven days, from early -morn till night, they availed themselves of this strange conveyance, -and never a danger occurred to mar their delight. In due time a family -of happy, rollicking children was raised, and the nest on the derrick -deserted. - -More beautiful are the nests which the Red-winged Blackbirds build. -These are the birds that affect our swamps and marshes, and make the -air ring with their loud, clear, resonant notes. Before me is a nest -that surpasses in beauty the average structure. It is a bulky affair -for the species, but so symmetrical in contour, and so quaintly, -deftly woven, that the eye never tires in looking at it, nor the mind -in contemplating its wonderful mechanism. Broad ribbons of grasses are -its composing materials, and eight of them are so woven into the nest -as to securely fasten it to the tall typhas in the summit of which it -was placed. - -[Illustration: RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD’S NEST. - -Located in a Field of Timothy.] - -But a more clever nest of these birds, and one that is as unique in -shape as it is in texture and composition, was found in the summer -of 1879 in the vicinity of Philadelphia. It was built in a field of -timothy, many of the stalks of which being wrought into the fabric. Its -shape is that of an inverted cone, and so beautifully, symmetrically -and compactly put together is it, that one could hardly credit the -builders with the possession of the skill necessary to the production -of so perfect a domicile. Externally the nest is formed of grasses -and rushes, neatly and intricately interwoven, with here and there a -head of the dry pappus of some species of hawkweed. Sedges and fine -grasses make for it a cosy and comfortable lining. This nest shows -quite conspicuously in the drawing, but in its natural position, in the -centre of a large field, the authors had spared no pains to have its -concealment as perfect as possible. - -Typical nests of these Blackbirds are somewhat irregular in outline, -and rather coarsely and rudely built of stubble and broad grasses, -variously intermingled, and lined with soft meadow grass. Usually -they are placed in clusters of weeds or in the tops of small bushes -alongside of streams of water. High positions are seldom chosen for -nesting purposes, as they offer poor facilities for food-collecting, -the aquatic larvæ, may-flies, dragon-flies and mosquitos, which -constitute a prominent part of the diet of these birds, being only -found in marshy situations. Small bushes along the margins of streams, -from the double advantage which they possess, are almost exclusively -adopted in certain localities. Being convenient to appropriate -food-stuffs, they are, at the same time, out of the reach of snakes, -especially water-snakes, which have a decided fondness for young birds. - -Of the sub-family of Orioles, to which the Red-wing belongs, no member, -unless it be the namesake of Maryland’s distinguished proprietor, -builds a more magnificent nest than the one that inhabits the orchard. -In the books it is known by the no means euphonious title of _Icterus -spurius_. Its nest is shaped like a pouch, and generally pensile. Soft, -flexible meadow grasses, neatly and compactly woven together, make up -the outer fabric, while within is a lining of vegetal or animal wool, -or one of fine grasses intermingled with horse-hair. But the handsomest -ever seen was one that was found in the vicinity of Nazareth, Pa., by -Richard Christ, in the summer of 1883. It is of the usual size, five -inches in height, three in external diameter, but differing from the -normal form only in materials of composition. The proverbial meadow -grasses are absent, and in lieu thereof are the headed stems of such as -grow by the roadside, notably conspicuous for their golden brightness -in a state of desiccation. - -[Illustration: DOUBLE NEST OF ORCHARD ORIOLE. - -Female Sitting, Male Standing Guard.] - -More noteworthy, however, than the Nazareth nest, is one that was -removed from a silver maple-tree. It is a double structure, composed -of long, flexible grasses, and is firmly bound by the same to several -small, slender branches. The larger nest, inversely sub-conical, is -joined to the smaller, somewhat similarly shaped, but less compact in -structure, by ribbons of the same kind of grass that composes the nest. -A circular opening, one inch in diameter, is a noticeable feature of -the smaller. That the additional structure served some useful purpose -there can be no doubt. I am inclined to believe that it was built for -the accommodation of either parent while the other was sitting. The -aperture was a convenient outlook for the non-sitting bird, who, from -this position, could with little difficulty, like a sentinel from an -outpost, detect the approach of an enemy. - -But nothing can exceed in beauty and skill the nest of a female -Baltimore Oriole in the writer’s possession. It was built under -peculiar circumstances, the builder being a prisoner, having been -taken from home when quite a fledgling. A male companion was brought -away at the same time. These birds, the property of Dr. Detwiler, of -Easton, Pa., in 1883, were a source of considerable pleasure to that -elderly gentleman in his leisure moments. Under his careful, kindly -management, they became quite tame, the female manifesting greater -familiarity than the male. That either would become so accustomed to -confinement as to evince a desire to build never entered the mind of -the Doctor. They had, when he was alone, the freedom of his studio. One -lovely June morning, the outside world brimming over with life and joy -and sunshine, the door of their cage was thrown open, and the Doctor -settled himself into a soft easy-chair to read. Hardly had he scanned a -dozen lines, when something pulling at his hair caused him to drop his -paper and look around. He was not slow to detect the offender in the -person of his female feathered friend who was seen flying towards the -most distant corner of the room with something, resembling hair, in her -bill. The reading was resumed, and again the culprit stole cautiously -to where he was sitting, and, seizing another hair, was off in a -twinkling. - -[Illustration: FEMALE BALTIMORE ORIOLE. - -Nest the Exclusive Work of Her Bill.] - -Permitting for a while these liberties, and noticing that bits of -strings were, when placed in positions to be seen, quite as much the -objects of interest as the hairs of his head, the Doctor was not -slow in divining the motive which led to this strange and unexpected -behavior. Convinced by actions, as significant as words themselves -could be, that his little friend was desirous to build a home, he -began to cast about for a corner where she could be free to carry out -her intentions without fear or interference. The attic furnished the -place, and after fitting it up with a large tree-branch for a perch, -and plenty of new white strings for building purposes, he bore his -favorite and her partner to their new quarters. Soon the female became -at home and entered into her voluntarily-imposed labor with alacrity, -and at the end of a week had constructed a domicile which her untamed -prototypes of field and roadside would strive in vain to excel. But -the male would have nothing at all to do with the matter, but remained -the same cold, indifferent being as I found him to be upon my first -introduction. - -Some nests are curious on account of shape. The birds often, it would -seem, try their very best to see how oddly they can build their homes. -The little Acadian Flycatcher, so common in Eastern Pennsylvania during -the breeding-season, sometimes appears to be controlled by cranky ideas -with regard to building. Dry blossoms of the hickory are the materials -it ordinarily uses, and they can always be obtained whenever needed, -but in a nest discovered by the writer in 1882, not a blossom was to -be found, but in place of them there were long, stringy fibres of the -inner bark of some species of herbaceous plant, which the birds had -modelled into a compactly-built, shallow, saucer-like cavity, and from -which they had caused to depend a gradually tapering train of the same -for nearly nine inches. - -[Illustration: ACADIAN FLYCATCHERS. - -Nest Curious on Account of Its Train.] - -The King Bird, a distant relative of the Flycatcher, often displays as -much eccentricity. Once upon a time a pair of King Birds took a fancy -to an old apple-tree that stood within a few yards of my Germantown -home. It was certainly not a place of quiet and retirement, for scores -of noisy, dirty children daily resorted to its leafy shelter for -coolness and pastime. But the birds were not the least disquieted. -They had fixed their minds upon the spot, and build they did. The -nest was posed between a forked branch, just out of the reach of the -urchins. It was a crazy affair. Black, slender roots, wrinkled and -knotted and tendrilled, made up the body of the fabric. As it was -nearing completion, the opportune discovery of a bunch of carpet rags -was hailed with delight. They were instantly appropriated, and promptly -adjusted to the outside, but in such a manner that long ends, some -fourteen inches in length, were made to project from the sides and -bottom. Whether all this was for ornament or protection, or for both, -I could not say, but I am inclined to think that safety was uppermost -in the minds of the builders, for, looking from below at the nest it -seemed but a mass of rags that had been thrown into a tree-crotch, -which, the birds perceiving, and its close resemblance to an entangled -bunch, had utilized. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -LONG BILLED MARSH WREN’S NEST.] - -Certainly no more beautiful nests in shape exist than the spherical -in form. The Long-billed Marsh Wren builds a nest of this type. Upon -its arrival in the spring it seeks the inland swamps, or the brackish -marshes of the sea-shore, where, amid the splatterdocks of the former -and reeds of the latter, it finds suitable shelter and protection. -There, day in and day out, during its entire summer stay, it pursues -the even tenor of its life, happy and contented, never caring, like -many of its remoter kin, for the charmed circle of man. Active, -energetic and buoyant with hope, it skips about the tall rank herbage, -in every direction, in quest of insects, making its presence known -and felt by the lively chattering song, which resembles more nearly -the sounds of an insect than those of a bird, which emanates from -its grassy haunts. As these birds reach their breeding-grounds early -in May, nest-building is soon begun, but so secret and mysterious -are their movements at first, that we hardly know anything of their -presence, except when they are colonized for the summer. The labor of -building is entered into with considerable alacrity, and is mainly the -result of the combined labor of both birds. Their nests are usually -placed in low bushes, a few feet above the ground, or woven into the -tops of sedges out of the reach of ordinary tides; but in very rare -instances upon the ground in the midst of a clump of grasses. Ground -nests are loosely-constructed affairs, which is not the case with -those that are elevated to the tops of tussocks, or to the branches of -shrubs and trees, which require more compactness and a better finish. -The most beautiful, as well as artistic, nest which I have ever seen -is the one shown in the cut. This nest was discovered in the vicinity -of Philadelphia in the summer of 1878. A willow-branch, some fifteen -feet above the ground, which was bifurcated, was made to do service. -No ordinary skill was that which surmounted the seemingly insuperable -difficulty of building a nest, not pensile in character, to such a -swaying branch. That the birds accomplished the feat the nest itself -was the evidence. In form this nest was nearly globular, four and a -half and five inches in the two diameters. It was woven of the broad -leaves of a species of scirpus, closely and evenly, and had its -interstices well seamed with brownish cottony down. A thin delicate -curtain of gauze, of the same material, hung around the opening, and -this was continued within, forming a thick bedding of the softest, -fluffiest nature, of which the most voluptuous sybarite might envy its -fortunate possessor. - -[Illustration: LONG-BILLED MARSH WRENS. - -Nest Placed Out of the Reach of Tides.] - -But the little Golden-crowned Kinglet, a mere mite of flesh and -feathers, but with a great deal of spirit, builds a much handsomer -nest. It is the perfection of symmetry. Man could not make with all -the appliances at his command any thing more nearly globular. But its -beauty! It looks like a ball of green moss, the delicate patches of -moss being so artfully arranged as to completely hide the dry stems of -grasses that constitute the walls. No moss ever spread itself over the -ground, or over a stump or tree-trunk, more evenly. When it is known -that this Kinglet builds its nest among the slender feathered branches -of the hemlock spruce, there is manifestly a reason for the fern-like -tracery upon the exterior, so necessary for the preservation of its -home. Such a handsome and imposing structure would be far from complete -were the inside not in keeping with the outside. But the birds have -left nothing to be desired in this particular. The softest and purest -of down lines the little bed-chamber, and even swells in its lightness -till ready to overflow the neat circular door-way. - -[Illustration: GOLDEN-CROWNED KINGLETS. - -Nest the Perfection of Beauty and Symmetry.] - -Perhaps the most graceful thing you may ever expect to find when on the -quest, fitted to be considered the work of the fairies, is the pretty -lace hammock of the Parula Warbler. You must search for it early in -June, in remote but thin woods, but never far from running water. Often -you will see it upon a branch overhanging a stream. The slender twig -of a birch is sometimes chosen for its suspension, the terminal spray -of a hemlock spruce, or a horizontal branch of a white oak. Like a -watch-pocket, with the opening in the side, it is lightly suspended. -It is made of a delicate lace-work, the grayish-green usnea moss, that -grows on old trees. The whole fabric is the work of two little birds -with slate-blue backs and yellow breasts. No other bird of our fauna -builds a nest akin to its swinging, eery nest. It is true much of the -material is found in position when the builders commence their labor, -but the exquisite outline and finish, as well as the cozy interior, -are due to the skill of the birds themselves. Even when the structure -is just so far completed that occupancy by the female is possible, the -male never wearies of its adornment by additional filaments of usnea -brought from a distance. He is the happiest of fellows, for his little -beak always finds something to do while his patient wife is busy with -the duties that lead to maternity. - -[Illustration: LACE HAMMOCK OF PARULA WARBLER. - -Female Entering Nest and Male Adding to Its Adornments.] - -Coming like whirling leaves, half autumn yellow, half green of spring, -their colors blending like the outer petals of grass-green daffodils, -no more sociable and confiding little creatures are to be found in our -midst than the Yellow Warblers. They are as much at home in the trees -by the house as in the fields and woods. Wherever they wander, the -glints of sunshine that flash from their backs should make the most -miserable complainer feel the summer’s charm. But in spite of their -seeming preference for man, they are prone to build in lonely fields -and by-ways. In such places it becomes one of the especial victims -which the Cow Bird selects to foster its random eggs. But the Warbler -puts its intelligence effectively to work, and builds a second story -to its nest, thus flooring over the unwelcome eggs. This expedient -is repeated as long as the Cow Bird continues her mischief, until -sometimes a three-story nest is achieved. The outside of the nest, -composed of glistening milkweed flax, is pressed into a felt-like case, -the fibres serving at the same time to lash the nest to its support. -Within, to the depth of an inch, is a soft sponge-like material, which -the birds have made from the wool they have gathered from the stems -of young ferns. A few horse-hairs, to give shape and stability to the -nest, are to be found in the inside of the felt-like lining. - -[Illustration: THREE-STORY NEST OF YELLOW WARBLER. - -Showing the Builder’s Manner of Out-witting the Cow Bird.] - -Hundreds of nests, quite as novel as any that have been described, -might be instanced, showing varieties from so-called normal forms, but -I shall content myself with only another example. Everyone is familiar -with the Ruby-throated Humming Bird, so common in the eastern half of -the United States. It is the smallest of all our birds. But its nest, -which is by no means scarce, is a rare sight to the average man and -woman. No nest can be compared with it. It is a thing of beauty and a -joy forever. A mass of cotton, with a hole in the top, and thatched all -round with blue-gray lichens, and just as big as a walnut, conveys a -good idea of its appearance. But all nests are not made of cotton. The -yellow wool that forms the dress of the undeveloped fern-frond, or the -red shoddy that is wind-swept into heaps outside some woollen factory, -is often made to take the place of the down of the seed of the poplar. -Not to be mentioned in the same breath with these, is the nest I am now -about to describe. It was saddled upon the horizontal bough of a small -white oak-tree that grew on the side of a thicket, and was peculiar -from the nature of the material that composed its inner fabric. This -substance resembled burnt umber in color, and was as soft as the finest -wool, or the fluffiest down, and proved, upon examination, to be the -mycelium of a fungus which the builders had gathered from decaying -stumps or mildewing tree-branch. - - - - -STRANGE FRIENDSHIP. - - -Somewhat widely distributed throughout temperate North America, but -nowhere very abundant, is the little Acadian Owl, or Saw-whet Owl, as -he is popularly designated. In Eastern Pennsylvania he seems notably -scarce, but this may be attributed to his pre-eminently nocturnal -and secluded habits. Being a denizen of dense pine forests, and only -venturing abroad in quest of food at the close of the day, his presence -and numbers remain to many a mystery. Hollow trees, and the dark -caverns of rocks, are his natural retreats, and as these are to be met -with largely in densely-timbered regions and sequestered localities, he -is seldom, if ever, seen in close proximity to human habitations. He -seemingly shuns rather than courts the society of man. When routed from -his burrow in the broad glare of day he becomes very much bewildered, -and is scarcely able to escape the approach of danger. - -The common appellation of Saw-whet Owl, which is applied to the -species, owes its origin to the close resemblance which the notes of -the bird bear to the noise produced by the filing of a saw. These -notes are so deceptive, that persons unacquainted with their source -have fancied themselves in the vicinity of a saw-mill, or in near -presence to a woodman occupied in whetting a saw. Audubon, hearing -these notes in a thicket for the first time, was thus deceived. The -same distinguished writer gives, on the authority of Mr. McCullock, an -interesting description not only of the notes of this Owl, but also -of his remarkable powers of ventriloquism. On a certain occasion his -informant was aroused by what appeared to be the feeble tones of a -distant bell. But in nearing the spot whence the sounds emanated, they -apparently shifted from point to point, being heard at one time close -by, and at the next moment in the distance, now on the left, then on -the right, and as often in the rear as in the front. Finally the author -of these sounds was discovered at the entrance of his burrow in a -birch-tree. Stationing himself at the base of the tree in full view of -the bird who was calling to his partner, Mr. McCullock had a splendid -opportunity of observing an exhibition of his singular and exceptional -ventriloquial powers. - -Smooth, gliding and noiseless is the flight of this Owl, and but -slightly elevated and protracted. When seeking for food he may be seen -sailing over low meadows in the neighborhood of his accustomed haunts, -or, perched upon a stump or fence-rail adjoining thereto, quietly -gazing in every direction for whatever of life may chance to manifest -itself, which he seizes with remarkable adroitness, even sometimes -venturing to assail prey larger than himself. The smaller birds, -awakened from their perch by his cries, fall ready victims to his -rapacity. - -Hollow trees, or the deserted nests of other species, are selected -for breeding-quarters. The eggs, varying from four to six in number, -are pure white, sub-spherical, of crystalline clearness, and measure -one and one-eighth by one and seven-eighths inches. The food of this -interesting little Owl, which is not so large as a robin, though -appearing bulkier, consists of small quadrupeds and birds, but chiefly -of various species of insects. - -When taken quite young, and held in confinement, this Owl becomes quite -tame, permitting strangers as well as his keeper to handle him with -the utmost freedom, without so much as resenting such familiarity. But -a greater attachment is manifested towards the master whom he is able -to recognize by the sound of his voice, and in whose presence he is -peculiarly fascinating and agreeable. - -Like _Scops asio_--the Red Owl--he leads a solitary existence, save on -the approach of warm weather, when the sexes are discovered together, -or are heard calling one to the other. Mating commences early in April, -and about the middle of the month the birds have located their nests -in the hollow of a tree, about twenty feet from the ground, where the -female lays her complement of eggs. The entrance to the hole is very -small, scarcely two inches in diameter. Upon the female devolves the -whole work of incubation, although the male takes a hand in raising the -young. The latter leave the nest about the first week of May, and when -disturbed make a noise that sounds like a dog sniffling the air, which, -when heard, especially at night in heavy timber, is quite certain to -startle one and make him fancy a bear or some such animal up a tree -near by. - -Some years ago there lived in the hollow of an oak tree, not far from -Germantown, a common Chickaree Squirrel--_Sciurus Hudsonius_--with -this little Owl as his sole companion. This association reminded me -of the connection of the burrowing owl of the West with the singular -settlements of the prairie dog, the life-relations of the two creatures -being really intimate in very many localities, although the owls are -simply attracted to the villages of the prairie-dogs as the most -suitable places for shelter and nidification, where they find eligible -ready-made burrows and are saved the trouble of digging for themselves. -Community of interest makes them gregarious to an extent unusual among -rapacious birds, while the exigencies of life on the plains cast their -lot with the rodents. That the owls live at ease in the settlements, -and on familiar terms with their four-footed neighbors, is an undoubted -fact, but that they have any intimate domestic relations is open to -question. That the quadruped and the birds are often seen to scuttle -at each other’s heels into the same hole when alarmed is no proof that -they live together, for in such a case the two merely seek the nearest -shelter, independently of each other. In the larger settlements there -are thousands upon thousands of burrows, many of them occupied by the -dogs, but more, perhaps, vacant. These latter are the homes of the -owls. It is possible that the respective retreats of a dog and an owl -may have one common vestibule, but this does not imply that they nest -together. There are fewest owls in the towns most densely populated by -the dogs and the greatest number in the deserted villages, and this -is strong evidence in point. But the owls are by no means confined to -the dog-towns, nor even to the similar communities of other gregarious -spermophiles. They sometimes occupy the underground dens of wolves, -foxes and badgers. When the subject has been carefully investigated, -the owls never appear to enter the same hole or burrow with a squirrel, -and a squirrel is never seen to enter a burrow that was occupied by -owls, however strongly he may be tempted by fear to enter the first -hole he should come to. The spermophile never likes to enter any burrow -but his own, and has been known to run past any number of inviting -entrances in order that he may hide himself in his own domicile. - -[Illustration: SAW-WHET OWL AND CHICKAREE SQUIRREL. - -Living Together in Perfect Harmony and Mutual Good-will.] - -In the case of the Chickaree Squirrel and the Saw-whet Owl, they -occupied the same hole together in perfect harmony and mutual -good-will. It was not an accidental occurrence, the Squirrel merely -seeking the cavity to escape a danger that impended, for the bird and -the Squirrel had been repeatedly observed to enter the hole together, -and in the most amicable manner possible, as though they had always -shared the apartment. Ordinarily the Chickaree is a very pugnacious -creature, attacking with the greatest fierceness the gray and black -squirrel whenever they had the temerity to cross his path. He seems to -be ever bent upon blood. Though strictly by nature a rodent, subsisting -principally upon nuts and the bark of trees, which his powerful -incisors enable him to manipulate effectively, yet he has not always -remained true to his instincts, for he has been frequently detected -in eating the eggs of birds, and also in the seizure of the feathered -denizens of our lawns and woods, which he will capture with all the -skill of the blood-thirsty weasel. His method of operation is peculiar. -He will lie in wait, concealed from view by the dense foliage of the -trees which he is wont to affect when in quest of game, and when some -unsuspecting bird hovers near pounces upon it with unerring precision, -and effecting its capture proceeds to suck, sitting up in true squirrel -fashion, the life-sustaining fluid through a wound inflicted in the -side of the neck. Having satiated his thirst, which may have been the -prime object of the capture, the dead body of the bird is dropped, and -the little monster, upon erect haunches, poses, the embodiment of -perfect contentment. - -But in the case of the Owl it was otherwise. Perhaps it was too large -for the monster to attack, or, knowing from rumor of gossiping friends -the reputation of the former for cruelty and murder, a conciliatory -spirit was thought the best to adopt. No one knows the bitter character -of the first interview, or whether a liking for each other sprang up -from the beginning. Be this as it may, there can be no denying the -fact that a friendship was cemented between the two animals, widely -divergent in structural peculiarities as they are known to be, that -gave hope of becoming long and enduring. - - - - -NATURE’S LITTLE STORE-KEEPER. - - -One of the most familiar of North American quadrupeds is the Hackee, or -Chipping Squirrel, as he is sometimes termed, from the strange, quaint -utterances which he emits while rollicking with his fellows or in quest -of something to eat. He is a beautiful little creature, notable alike -for the dainty elegance of his form and for the pleasing tints with -which his dress is arrayed. His general color is brownish-gray upon the -back, warming into orange-brown upon the forehead and hinder quarters. -Five longitudinal black stripes and two streaks of yellowish-white -adorn the dorsum and sides, which render him a most conspicuous being -and one readily distinguishable from any other animal. His abdomen -and throat are white. He is slightly variable in color according to -locality, and has been known to be so capricious of hue as to become -a pure white or a jetty black. But for the commonness of the species, -which is found in great numbers in almost every place, his fur, from -its extreme beauty, would long since have taken nearly as high rank as -sable or ermine. - -No quadruped is so brisk or so lively. His quick, rapid movements have -not inaptly compared him to the wren. As he whisks about the branches -of the brushwood and small timber among which he is chiefly met, or -shoots through their interstices with his peculiar jerking movements, -and his odd clicking cry, like the chip-chipping of newly-hatched -chickens, the analogy between himself and the bird is strikingly -apparent. Occurring in great plenty, and being a bold little creature, -he is much persecuted by small boys, who, with long sticks, and -well-directed blows, manage to fell to the earth many a luckless fellow -as he endeavors to escape his pursuers by running along the rail fences. - -Hackees delight in sequestered localities. There they tunnel their -homes, preferring some old tree, or a spot of earth sheltered by a -wall or a bank. Their burrows are rather complicated affairs, running -often to great lengths, so that the task of digging the animal out -of his retreat becomes one of no easy accomplishment. Sandy patches -of ground, on the outskirts of a woods, are not unusually chosen for -burrows. A hole, almost perpendicular, is drilled into the earth to a -depth of three feet, and is thence continued with one or more windings, -rising a little nearer the surface until it has advanced some nine or -ten feet, when it is made to terminate in a large circular nest, made -of oak leaves and dried grasses. Small lateral galleries branch off -from the main burrow, in which these provident little creatures lay up -their winter’s provisions. Wheat, Indian corn, buckwheat, hazel-nuts, -acorns and the seeds of grasses have been found in their underground -receptacles, a proof, were further evidence lacking, that they do not -pass the cold famine months in a sluggish and benumbed condition. -Several layers of leaves, aggregating nine inches in thickness, are -often found over the entrance, as a protection from frosts, which are -further prevented from intrusion by the sealing up of the mouth from -within. - -Everything is done by the Hackee in a business-like manner. In -gathering his food, lest the sharp beak of the nut may injure his -cheeks when he places the fruit in his pouch, he nips off the point, -and then by the aid of his fore-paws deliberately pushes the nut -into one of his pouches. Another and another are similarly treated, -and taking a fourth between his teeth, he dives into his burrow, -and, having packed them methodically away, returns to the surface -for a fresh cargo. Four nuts are his load at each journey. With his -check-pouches distended to their fullest capacity, and laboring most -truly under an embarrassment of riches, the little fellow presents a -most ludicrous appearance. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -CHIPPING SQUIRRELS FEEDING.] - -When menaced by foes, by which so defenceless and conspicuous an animal -is sure to be surrounded in great numbers, the Hackee makes at once for -his burrow, and is there secure from the attacks of nearly all enemies. -One foe there is, however, that cares naught for the burrow, but -follows the poor Hackee through all of its windings, and never fails -to attain his sanguinary object. This remorseless foe is the stoat, or -ermine, whose only _penchant_ is the blood, and not the flesh, of his -victim. - -[Illustration: HACKEE, OR CHIPPING SQUIRREL. - -Laying up Food for the Famine of Winter.] - -Early in November the Hackee moves into his winter-quarters, excepting -in occasional instances when the sun shines with peculiar warmth, and -is not seen again until the beginning of spring. The young, to the -number of four or five, are produced in May, and there is generally a -second brood some time in August. A rather pugnacious animal is the -male Hackee, and during the combats which are frequently waged when -several males meet, their tails have been known to snap asunder from -the violence of their movements, for these members, it is undoubtedly -true, are wonderfully brittle in their structure. - -Pretty as he is, and graceful as are his movements, it hardly pays -to keep the animal in a domesticated state, for his temper is very -uncertain, and he is generally sullen even towards his keeper. But -could he be induced to take to the life of a captive kindly and -pleasantly, he would, by his cunning little ways, prove a most -agreeable companion. - -Some years ago an American writer of note had a pair of these animals -which made their home in the foundation wall of her house. A row of -wild cherry trees stood near the lawn in the rear of the building, -which the little fellows were wont to visit many times daily, carrying -off in their pouches quite a number at a time of the numerous cherry -pits that lay scattered over the ground. - -The season being dry, one morning early the person to whom reference -has been made repaired to the lawn and poured a pitcher of water over -some plants that grew near her porch, when one of these squirrels was -observed to pass among them on his way to the trees. He paused from -his journey, sat up on his haunches, took one of the wet leaves in his -hands, pressed the sides together for a trough for the moisture, and -holding it to his mouth drank from it the water in the most comical -fashion imaginable. He then went to another and another, drinking -from five or six leaves in all, while she stood watching near by. A -large saucer filled with water was placed near the plants, which the -little fellows quickly discovered, and both thereafter drank and washed -regularly at the dish. - -A practice of testing their knowledge of nuts was then made. When -cracked hickory nuts were given them, they at once sat down and picked -out of them the meats, which they eagerly devoured. Cracked nuts, it -would seem, were deemed worthless for storage. But, on the contrary, -when whole nuts were given, they tested them, evidently by weight, to -see if they were sound. Sound nuts were promptly transported to their -burrow, but the poor ones were dropped. They were never known to be -mistaken in their judgment, for the rejected nuts on being cracked were -always found to be worthless. - -Although the food of the Hackee is mostly vegetal in character, yet, -like his English relative, he is occasionally carnivorous in his -appetite, for he has been detected in the cruel act of robbing birds’ -nests and devouring their callow young. - -Some Squirrels are remarkable for their extreme agility in climbing -trees, and in making extraordinary leaps from one bough to another or -from some elevated spot to the earth. The Ground Squirrels, however, -are intended to abide on the earth, and are seldom known to ascend -trees to any great height. As they possess cheek-pouches, they are -placed in a separate genus under the name of Tamias, which is a Greek -word, signifying a store-keeper, and are distinct from the others -in being furnished with these appendages. _Tamias striatus_ is the -appellation by which the subject of our sketch is known to the books. - - - - -CANINE SAGACITY. - - -Many years ago, two decades or more, the writer was the possessor of a -little dog--a French poodle by breed. A more knowing animal of his kind -never lived. He was a pretty creature, with hair as white as driven -snow, and manners the most agreeable. Great pride was taken in his -appearance. That his dress should maintain its natural purity, he was -weekly subjected to a warm-water bath. This task devolved upon a little -brunette, for whom the canine had contracted a strong affection. - -Frisky, for such was our pet’s name, had never before coming into -the family known what it was to receive a good washing. His first -experience was as uninteresting as it was novel and strange. It was -anything but pleasant to him, but the little fellow bore it like a -martyr. - -Such treatment, by the ordinary cur, would have been resented with -snaps and snarls, but his was a gentle nature that knew no such -untoward manifestations. But there was, all the same, an aversion to -the bath, as looks only too plainly indicated. So pronounced was the -dislike, that the very sight of water caused his delicate frame to -shake like a child’s with the cold. - -Had not the greatest care been taken in the preparation of the bath, -it might have been thought that the tremors that shook his by no -means robust frame were induced by the water’s chilliness or by its -undue warmth. But this could not be the case, as the fluid was always -tempered to the most sensitive touch. - -But there came a time, however, when Frisky was determined to evade -these kindnesses upon the part of his mistress. He had pleaded -immunity from them in pitying glances, but without avail. Something -must be done, his looks would seem to say, as he lay cuddled up by the -cosy kitchen fire. One could almost read the thoughts that were shaping -themselves in his mind. - -For three long years Frisky, who had been allowed to sleep at nights -in the sitting-room, was accustomed, when morning broke, to visit the -different members of the family in their respective dormitories, and -have a lively, rollicking time. These visits were always looked forward -to, and in no instance, during the whole of that period, were they -ever intermitted. To have missed one of these exciting romps, would -have been a keenly-felt deprivation. But that we were to be doomed to -such disappointment and affliction, subsequent events only too clearly -showed. - -One Saturday morning, for it was always on the Jewish Sabbath that the -bath was given, Frisky failed to make his accustomed calls. This was -noticed by everyone, and no amount of comment was provoked. Loudly -his name was spoken, but no response was elicited, and it soon became -evident that the cunning little elf was beyond the reach of calling. -Search was instituted, but to no effect. His absence was lamented, and -it was feared some calamity had befallen him. A silence, like unto -death, filled the house. There was weeping and wailing about, for -Frisky was not. - -But just as the shadows of night were deepening, and hope was dying -out of the bosoms of all, the patter of little feet was heard upon the -pavement leading to the back-door. The sounds were too familiar to -be those of a stranger. All listened with breathless silence. “’Tis -Frisky, ’tis Frisky,” went up a chorus of voices, and we all rushed -to the door to welcome the runaway back to the fold. Not a chiding -word was spoken, not a look of reproof given, as with outstretched -arms the culprit was received to our hearts. A more crestfallen, -conscience-stricken being, however, could hardly be conceived to exist. - -Things resumed their wonted sway. Happiness reigned once more in -the family. Frisky’s matutinal visits were as though they had not -been interrupted. His frolics had all their former vivacity. The sin -committed had been condoned, and he in splendid repute again. - -[Illustration: MY DOG FRISKY. - -How He Greeted His Master.] - -A week since his first wrong-doing had elapsed. Would he repeat his -plan of getting rid of the obnoxious bath?--had never entered our -minds. The day dawned bright and lovely. All was bustle outside, -and the slamming of shutters told that the servant was astir in the -kitchen. As was her usual custom, the entry door was left open for -Frisky. All ears were on the stretch. There were no familiar signs. -The sharp, glad bark that always heralded his coming was wanting, and -so, too, the timing of little feet upon the stairs. Not a sound of -breathing, not a rustle of counterpane, was heard. Still and motionless -we all lay, till the minutes seemed hours, and then came the thought -that it was Saturday and Frisky had again disappeared. Search was -everywhere made, but the missing one was nowhere to be found. That he -had slipped out when the door was opened, was now most obvious. No -effort was made to find his hiding-place, for we all knew that he would -come back with the shadows. - -His coming was later this time than before. The sun had long gone to -rest. It was pitch dark when the pawing of little feet against the door -announced his return. - -This second offence was passed over as the first had been, and Frisky -was his jolly, frolicsome self once more. A score of Saturdays was thus -managed and the hateful bath escaped, for well this cunning bit of -flesh and fur knew that the seventh was the only day of the week when -it was convenient for his mistress to attend to his ablutions. - -That Frisky was able to count, or had some means of determining the -coming of the day he so thoroughly detested, there can be no question. -But the exceeding cuteness of his nature not only showed itself in his -manner of getting rid of the hateful bath, but in various other ways. -He seemed equal to every emergency that could arise. Oftentimes I have -watched him, as he lay upon a rug by the kitchen-hearth, or upon the -pillow of a new-made bed, for he was at liberty to go where he pleased -about the house, and I have fancied that I could see him thinking, or -read the train of thoughts passing through his mind, so human-like -seemed he in these reflective moments. - -When scolded for some trifling misdoing, or threatened with denial of -some expected pleasure, no so-called brute could show more pitying -glances. His grief was often heart-rending to behold. Prostrate upon -the ground or carpet, or in what place soever he chanced to be, -he would moan and moan for hours together, and only consent to be -comforted when the burden was lifted from off his soul by a kind word -spoken, a smiling look given, or a quick, hearty shake of his delicate -paw. When happy, and it did not take much to make him happy, he was -full of life and vivacity, capering and prancing about with the utmost -_abandon_, and doing his very best to show off his happiness and -pleasure. His eyes seemed kindled with a holy affection, and a blaze of -heavenly sunshine would appear to play over his features. I have seen -him, when in such mental agony, to actually shed tears, a sight that -never could fail to reach and melt the flintiest hearts. He knew and -understood every word that was spoken to him, and responded by a shake -of the head, or a low, soft bark. A conscience within told him the -right from the wrong, and though he sometimes knowingly erred, yet he -was always truly sorrowful for his sins afterwards. - -There came a day, however, when the idol of the household went out -and never returned. Some unlucky event had doubtless befallen him, or -he had been spirited away to parts unknown. If living, I trust he is -being cared for as he richly deserves. He was a kind, gentle, loving -being, and I cannot help thinking that some day I shall meet him in the -beautiful world beyond the grave. - - - - -FELINE INTELLIGENCE. - - -Probably no creature has been more calumniated by man than the Domestic -Cat. While wonderful intellectual powers, as well as the most amiable -traits of character, have been accredited to the dog, and rightly so, -it seems rather strange that so little of good has been found to exist -in the subject of our sketch. She has been held up to reprobation as a -thoroughly selfish animal, seeking her own comfort rather than that of -others, and manifesting a stronger attachment to places than to owners. -Sly and treacherous as her untamed kindred of the forests and jungles -are known to be, she receives no higher commendation, and is even -accused of concealing her talons in her velvety paws when matters go -pleasantly with her, and ready to use them even upon her best friends -when crossed in her purposes. - -Whatever may have been the experience of those who have so grossly -libelled the Cat, my own large acquaintance with the animal has led -to different conclusions. Nearly all the Cats with which I have been -most familiar have been as docile, tractable and affectionate as any -dog could be, and have exhibited an amount of intellectual ability -unsurpassed by few dogs. There is as much to be said about the good -and bad temper of the Cat as of the dog, while, as to her mental -capacities, the advantage is not so decidedly upon the side of the -dog as is generally supposed. Nor is my own experience exceptional, -for in all instances where friends have possessed favorite Cats their -experiences have been similar to my own. - -Self is not always paramount to everything else with Cats. Some are -generous to a fault. Mothers have been known, whose devotion to their -young has been so strong that they have hunted all day for their -benefit, even when the latter were full-grown, scarcely taking any -nourishment for themselves. But such feelings are perfectly natural. -When, however, we see a Cat that is willing to share its food with a -stranger, one cannot resist the thought that here is a case of real -generosity. A friend once possessed a fine black Cat. He was dainty in -his eating, scrupulously exact in his dress, and well-mannered in his -deportment. No Cat ever received better training. Unlike the average -Cat, he could be trusted in the presence of tempting viands, and was -never known to abuse the confidence reposed in him. Beauty, for so -he was called, was a model fellow, and well deserved the name. The -education he received, while it made him gentle, kind and affectionate, -and gave him reliability of character, did still more, for it endowed -him with a soul that was not a stranger to the noblest impulses. Life -had few luxuries that he did not enjoy; but a sprig of catnip was more -to him than the choicest steak or raciest tidbit, and to this luxury he -was weekly treated. Notwithstanding his fondness for the herb, he was -never reluctant to share it with another, whom Fortune had less favored. - -Cats, at least such as are well circumstanced, possess some knowledge -of the uses of things. We once knew a Cat that would, when out of -doors, make its presence known by a few loud raps upon the closed door, -administered by its right front paw. If the call was not immediately -answered, a few more raps, louder than before, would be given, and then -the Cat, unable to restrain its impatience, would spring up to the -latch, striking it a downward blow, as though endeavoring, human-like, -to effect an entrance. - -But quite as interesting as any of the foregoing cases is that of a -female Cat that had run a spine into one of her hind feet. Limping upon -three legs she made her way to her mistress, and, raising her foot, -implored with a piteous look and sad, distressing cries the removal of -the offensive spine. A child could not have made its suffering better -understood, nor supplicated the needed relief more intelligently, than -did this poor creature, which thoughtless man in his self-glorification -is so prone to regard as a senseless, unintelligent and unreasoning -being, which has no existence beyond this sublunary sphere. - -[Illustration: TOM ON DUTY. - -Guarding His Master’s Cows.] - -While Cats are useful in the destruction of vermin, and afford man -no little amusement by their wonderful antics, yet they seldom put -themselves to any practical use. The Cat, about which we shall now have -something to say, is an exception to the rule, and quite a marvel in -his ways. He is a resident of a far-away town in New Jersey, and came -to his present quarters a long, gaunt, wild-eyed, unfed creature. But -something in his looks told of a soul within that fore-shadowed a great -deal of good, and so the Cat, which at first seemed an unwelcome guest, -began to be looked upon in an appreciative manner. And now Tom, as the -Cat is called, is a fixture in the household. - -Almost from his advent into the family Tom began to give an exhibition -of his common-sense. This first remarkable show of intelligence was on -the Sunday succeeding his adoption. The family had repaired to church, -leaving Tom contentedly snoozing in a corner of the kitchen. But their -surprise can hardly be pictured when in the midst of the sermon Tom -came flying down the aisle to the place where his master was seated, -and clawing the legs of the trousers of the latter, began yelling at -the top of his voice. The minister stopped in the midst of his talking, -and everybody got up to see what the trouble was, but Tom, utterly -oblivious of them all, continued his strange behavior. - -Convinced that the actions of the Cat were not the result of an -epileptic fit, but foreboded something wrong at the house, the male -portion of the congregation started thither, and when the house was -reached a dense column of smoke was seen pouring from the kitchen -window. The door was thrown open, and the carpet on the floor was -found burned to a cinder. A coal of fire had evidently fallen from the -stove-grate and started the fire. That Tom had understood the danger, -was shown by his actions. - -One day, a horse, belonging to a neighboring farmer, ran away, and tore -down the road past Tom’s home at a thundering gait. Tom was sauntering -around the yard, and his attention being drawn to the rattling of -the wagon, he was soon in the road to see what the trouble was, and -observing that the team was unaccompanied by a driver, he leaped upon -the head of the runaway horse and hung on with teeth and claws until -the animal was secured. On another occasion a tramp, happening along -the road, descried a bicycle that belonged to one of the inmates of the -house. He was soon astride the wheel, and might have made his escape -had not he fallen under the eyes of Tom, who, as quick as a flash, was -after the thief. Leaping into the air, he fell on the man’s shoulders -and set his teeth firmly into his neck. There was a howl and a crash -that brought the family to the yard, and there they found the tramp -rolling on the ground and making desperate efforts to get away from -Tom’s rigid jaws. Finally the Cat was induced to relax his hold, and -the wounds of the tramp being cared for, he was allowed to proceed on -his way. - -More wonderful still is what follows: When the master wants to bait -his cows and keep them within a certain area he instructs Tom to watch -them, and the allotted task is performed with all the faithfulness and -wisdom of a shepherd’s dog. Any disposition to stray outside the limits -is checked, the erring animal being hustled back by Tom, who, attaching -himself to her caudal extremity, remains there until she is brought -back to where she belongs. - -No animals seem to require human sympathy so much as Cats, or to be so -capable of giving sympathy in return. Where they have formed a strong -attachment to a person they are loath to be away from his society and -follow him wheresoever he goes, giving caresses and expecting a liberal -share of the same in return. I have been upon a bed of sickness and a -favorite Cat, which I always addressed as Puss, would, whenever the -opportunity occurred, make her way into my room, and, jumping upon the -bed, lay her head against my face in the most endearing manner, and -purr her sweetest and gentlest, ever and anon stopping to express her -sympathy by licking my forehead or uplifted hand. Even when Puss has -been suffering from maladies to which all flesh of her kind is heir, I -have sat by her side and stroked her head, and have read in the look -which she gave me that she felt my sympathy and appreciated it beyond -any power of expression of hers to declare. She seemed to think at all -times that I was wholly her own, and no other Cat, not even one of -her own offspring, would be allowed such familiarities, as any attempt -was sure to provoke the most intense jealousy. Nor was I permitted -to lavish attentions upon any of her kith, for she would soon become -wrought up to a high pitch of excitement, and instant vengeance would -be wreaked upon the recipient of my favors. - -Much more might be said about the Cat. It has its good qualities and -its bad qualities. There is hardly a trait of character which the human -animal possesses that it does not possess. Of course I now speak of -our Domestic Cat. In the long-past times, when the Egyptian nation was -at the head of the civilized world, _Felis maniculata_, which is the -reputed origin of our Domestic Cat, was universally domesticated in -their homes, and it is not unknown the very high position it held in -the love and esteem of the people, for it was deified and worshipped as -a god. Even in England, still later down in time, the Domestic Cat was -so scarce that royal edicts were issued for its preservation. Yet in -those days, A. D. 948, the wild Cat was rife in the British Islands and -was considered as a vicious animal, which must be destroyed, and not a -useful one to be protected by the law. How we came into the possession -of the Cat is a matter of conjecture, the current belief being that it -was imported from Egypt into Greece and Rome, and thence into England. - - - - -BRIGHT LITTLE CEBIDAE. - - -Next to man, in descending the scale of animal life, come the -Quadrumana, or Four-handed Animals. They are represented by the Apes, -Baboons, Monkeys and Lemurs. Excepting the last, and a few other -species, these animals are not very pleasing in aspect or habits, some -of them, the larger apes and baboons, being positively disgusting. -The air of grotesque humanity that characterizes them is horribly -suggestive of human idiocy, and we approach an imprisoned gorilla -or baboon with much the same repugnance that we do a debased and -brutal maniac. This aversion seems not to be produced so much by the -resemblance that the ape bears to man, as by the horror felt lest man -should degenerate to the condition, character and physiognomy of the -ape. But to the naturalist, who sees wonder or beauty in all things -animate, these creatures are no less pleasing than others that are not -so repugnant. - -Were we to take a survey of the varied forms which the Quadrumana -of the Old World assume, we would find that the forms would show -such diversification that there would hardly seem scope for further -modifications. Yet the prolific power of nature is so inexhaustible, -that the depth of our researches would only bring to light objects -of such infinite variety of form as to overwhelm the mind with -surprise and admiration. Thus it would be found to be with the -Cebidæ, or American Monkeys. While they would be shown to possess -the chief characteristics of the monkey nature, thus establishing -their close relationship with the Old World monkeys, yet they would -be seen to exhibit the strangest modification of details. Their four -hand-like paws, and other quadrumanous peculiarities, would indicate -their _status_ in the animal kingdom, while sundry differences -of conformation would show that they were intended to live under -conditions that would ill suit their relatives on the other side of the -globe. Curious it is to observe how the same idea of animal life is -repeated in various lands and climates, even though seas, impassable -to creatures unaided by the light of civilized reason, intervene. So -we have the Simiadæ of Asia and Africa represented by the Cebidæ of -America. Nor is this wonderful idea restricted exclusively to the -man-like animals. The lion, tiger and other feline races of the Eastern -Continent find Western representatives in the puma and jaguar, and -the same circumstance may be observed of nearly all the mammalia, the -birds, the reptiles, the fishes, and, in short, through the entire -animal kingdom. - -But of all the monkeys of the New World, and they are numbered by -hundreds included in several genera and species, there are none that -deserve more consideration than the Capuchin Monkeys. They are active, -little animals, lively and playful. So similar are all the species -in general habits, that a description of one will equally serve for -any other. Their youthfulness and sportive manners make them very -desirable companions, and hence we frequently find them domesticated -by the native Indians and European settlers. Like other small monkeys, -the Capuchin often strikes up a friendship for other animals that may -happen to live in or near its home, the cat being one of the most -favored of its allies. It is sometimes the case this familiarity is -carried so far that the cat is turned into a horse by the monkey, who, -seated upon her back, perambulates the premises. More unpromising -subjects, we are told, have been pressed into similar service. Humboldt -cites the case of one that was accustomed to catch a pig every morning, -and, mounted upon its back, was known to retain its seat during the -entire day. Even when the pig was feeding in the savannas its rider -remained firm, and bestrode the animal with as much pertinacity as one -skilled in equestrianism would the most rampant steed. - -No little difficulty is experienced in settling the species of -the Capuchins, for their fur is rather variable in tint, and some -individuals differing so greatly as to cause them to look like another -species. The general color of the Capuchin--_Cebus apella_--is a golden -olive, a white fur bordering the face in some, though not in all -individuals. _Cebus fatuellus_, commonly called the Horned Sapajou or -Capuchin, is much more conspicuous than the last, as the erect fringe -of hair that projects so prominently from the forehead indicates it -at once: hence from the front, the hair assumes the appearance of two -tufts or horns, from which peculiarity the animal derives its name. -These horns are not completely developed until the monkey has attained -maturity. There is also a manifest difference in color of hair, the -Sapajou having a constant tinge of red in its fur. It is usually of a -deep brown color, but in some individuals there is a marked resemblance -to that peculiar purple-black which is obtainable by diluting common -black ink with water, while in others the ruddy hue is so pronounced as -to impart a chestnut tint to the animal’s hair. The fringed crest is -tipped with gray. - -Perhaps no more interesting form of the Capuchins exists than the -Weeper Monkey, or Sai, or, as it is called in the books, _Cebus -capucinus_. As in the case of the two preceding species, it is an -inhabitant of Venezuela and Brazil, and as lively as any of its -congeners. Like its brethren, its tail is invested with a dense growth -of hair, but this does not interfere with its prehensile powers. The -Sai is possessed of a large amount of intelligence, and its quaint -little ways make it a great favorite with those who delight to watch -its quick and agile movements. While things of a vegetable character -constitute the chief part of its food, yet it manifests a fondness for -various kinds of insects, and is sometimes known to ascend to higher -prey, for it has been observed to feed upon birds, which it devours -with avidity, not even waiting to pluck off the feathers. Eggs are also -thought to form a no inconsiderable part of this Capuchin’s diet. - -Some few years ago, Prof. Cope had in his possession a tame Sai, which -was kept in a cage, or, rather, was supposed to be kept in it, for the -animal had a strong aversion to confinement, and was sure to break -loose therefrom sooner or later. When in durance vile, and wishing to -break prison, he always directed his attention to the hinges, and no -matter how firmly they were fixed, he was sure before long to extract -the staples, pull out the nails, and so open the door at the hinges, -and not at the latch. - -Finding that the cage could not hold him, his master had him confined -by a strap fastened around the waist, after the fashion of monkeys. -The strap, however, proved to be of no more use than the cage, for the -crafty animal soon contrived to open it, and this he did by ingeniously -picking out the threads by which the strap was sewn to the buckle, and -so rendering the fastenings useless. - -Again he was confined to the cage and carefully watched. Having rid -himself of the strap, he began to consider how he might apply it to -some useful purpose. So, having perceived that some food had fallen -beyond his reach, he took one end of the strap in his paw, flung the -other over the morsel of food, and so drew it toward him. In this feat -he displayed great accuracy of aim, seldom missing the object which he -desired. Once or twice, when he had to make a longer throw than usual, -he loosened his hold of the strap. The first time that this happened, -some one handed him the poker. He took it, drew the strap toward him, -and resumed its use as before. - -No intelligent person can deny that these acts were prompted by reason. -So far from even being aided by instinct, the animal was certainly -acting in direct opposition to it. The instinct of an animal when -confined or tethered in any way is to break loose by main strength, and -the instinct of the monkey would have impelled him to force his way -through the bars of the cage or to strain at the strap until he had -broken it in two. But it was his reason that taught him to look for the -weak part in both cage and strap, and, having found it, to devote his -energies to that part until he had succeeded in his object. - -[Illustration: JACK AT DINNER. - -Showing His Use of Table Implements.] - -Was it possible for instinct to teach him that the hinges were the weak -part of his cage, and that, if he could only remove the staples or -nails, the door would open and he would be free? Could instinct teach -him that the stitches of the strap-buckle were to the strap what the -staples and nails were to the hinges, and that if he could but pick -out the threads, the fastenings of the strap would be rendered of no -effect? Neither could instinct teach him to use the strap after the -manner of a lasso, nor to employ the poker in regaining his lost weapon. - -Not only did he thus show his ability to deal with the obstacles -that stood in the way of his freedom, and without even the slightest -suggestion from the mind of his master, but he also gave evidence that -he had the capacity to profit by many of the civilities by which he -found himself surrounded in the life in which he was placed. Monkeys -are remarkable for their power of imitation, and Jack, as this Capuchin -was called, proved himself to be no ordinary fellow in this respect. -He had seen his master eat out of a dish, using knife, fork and spoon -when occasion demanded, and nothing would do but an abandonment of his -old habits--the using of his fingers, which his ancestors were wont -to do--and the assumption of civilized practices. In time he became -quite skilful in the use of these table implements and showed greater -dexterity in handling them than many a man has shown. Accustomed to -their use, he would never have things any other way. The writer has -repeatedly been present when he was taking his meals. Seated upon the -ground, his head and body slightly bent forward, with his plate of -food before him, the ground serving him as a table, Jack would help -himself in a quiet, cool and deliberate manner, all the while evincing -in movement and look an air of the most consequential importance. To -say that he was proud of the success which he had achieved in the -correct use of table implements but tamely expresses the feeling which -would dominate his bosom at such times. No human individual who had -accomplished some wonderful discovery or striking feat at arms that had -caused the earth to resound with his praises, could have felt more of -the emotion than Jack. Indeed, it was a remarkable feat for Jack, and -he had a right to feel vain over its accomplishment. All the while he -was eating he would chatter in his uncouth guttural tongue, as though -he had learned, like his human brethren, that conversation gave relish -to a meal and was a powerful aid to digestion. - -While Jack was a very useful fellow to have about, especially where -cats without owners abounded, for he was a terror upon these feline -nuisances, yet he had a few faults which detracted very much from his -otherwise good character. Like some boys, he was addicted to the habit -of throwing stones, but I am more than half disposed to believe that -this was an acquired propensity, which he had learned by seeing his -master engaged in a similar diversion, or perhaps, which is not at -all unlikely, he had been trained to such exercise and pastime by his -master. Well, he could throw stones with considerable force, and with -as much precision as any well-trained lad of fourteen summers could -do. Let the master but give him a stone, and say, “Now, Jack, hit that -fellow,” and Jack needed no second telling. Throwing his right arm -back, just as a boy would do, in order to give the necessary impetus -to the missile, he would send the stone flying in the right direction. -It required no little skill and celerity of movement to dodge the -projectile, as the writer had more than once learned by painful -experience, for Jack’s wonderful and well-directed aim seldom went -astray of its purpose. - -Towards his master Jack showed great deference and attention, and was -ever ready to obey his slightest wish. No one’s society he enjoyed -better. It was always a pleasure to be near him, but strangers he -seemed to despise and treat as enemies. He would always eye them with -a suspicious look, and could never tolerate their presence for any -considerable length of time without giving vent to his annoyance by the -most angry vociferations and hideous grimaces. Should this not have the -effect of causing them to retire, he would emphasize his objection to -their presence by pelting them with stones and such other missiles as -were convenient to hand. That he had a considerable affection for his -master, and respected him, no stronger evidence could be given than -what has already been adduced. - -After all that has been said concerning Jack, yet the world is full of -people, educated and intelligent as they consider themselves to be, who -cannot see that this bit of flesh and spirit has been endowed by the -same wise Creator with the same traits of character, but differing in -degree, that they themselves possess. Going back to the ingenuity which -Jack displayed in the cases of the cage and the strap referred to, it -may be said to his credit that even Baron Trench himself could not have -shown greater skill in the discovery of the weak parts of his prison -and bonds than did this so-called brute, nor could he have exhibited -more patience and perseverance in working at them. Indeed, there are -many human beings that would not have been half so sensible as Jack, -but still we must believe that such high intelligence, comparatively -speaking, must inevitably perish with the body, through which as -a vehicle it was made to manifest itself. All intelligence is an -emanation from the Divine Intelligence, and, when the life has gone out -of the body from which it was made to shine forth, then it, instead of -perishing with the material, returns to the Source of all intelligence, -not to be re-absorbed, but, as I think, to continue as a separate -intelligence, drawing its life and light from the great Central Head, -like as the planets derive theirs from the centre of our material -universe--the Sun. - - - - -UNTUTORED MAN. - - -Strange and unique as are the plants and animals of Australia, yet -nothing definite can be affirmed of its native human inhabitants. They -are a peculiar people, separated by a wide remove from the Papuans, -the Malays and the Negro. Of a dark, coffee-brown complexion, rather -than actually black, the Australian is but little inferior to the -average European in height, but is altogether of a much slimmer and -feebler build, his limbs, particularly, being very lean and destitute -of calves, a defect which is a peculiarity of the darker races of man. -His head is long and narrow, dolichocephalic in type, with a low brow, -prominent just above the orbital regions, but receding thence in a very -marked degree. The nose, proceeding from a comparatively narrow base, -broadens outwardly to a somewhat squat end, the eyes on each side of -its attenuated root appearing drawn together. His face bulges into high -cheek bones; his mouth is large and grotesque, the jaw-bone contracted, -the upper jaw projecting over the lower, but with fine, white teeth; -the chin cut away, and his ears slightly pricked forward. Not only the -head and face, but the entire body as well, is covered with a profusion -of hair, which, when freed of its enclogging dirt and oil, is soft and -glossy. Like most savage peoples, the effluvium of his skin, offensive -as it naturally is, is very much exaggerated by the fish-oil he uses in -the anointment of his person. - -Almost exclusively directed on the means of procuring sustenance, the -intellect of the Australian operates wholly within the range of the -rudest bodily senses. But inside that simple, elementary sphere he -displays no little nimbleness and dexterity. In tracking and running -down his prey he is unsurpassed. His weapons, though of the most -primitive forms, are well adapted for the purposes of the chase. Rude -and uncouth as his culinary and domestic apparatus appear, yet they -serve equally well the objects for which they were designed. Some -imitative facility, or rude sense of elementary art, is possessed -by him, as is evidenced by the crude figures of sharks, lizards and -other animals that may be seen carved in caves in the north-east of -Australia, and on the rocks of New South Wales. That he has some -exuberance of rude sense is still further shown in his language, which, -within its very circumscribed sensuous sphere, is fairly expressive and -complete, and likewise in the ease with which he learns to chatter the -languages of peoples with whom he has been thrown into contact. - -Outside the circle described, all is blank to the Australian. He has no -architecture, no pottery and almost no weaving, and may be said to have -no religion. His sensations may scarcely, if at all, be said to have -attained the dignity of sentiments, much less that of sentimentalities. -The man domineers over the woman, who is as much his property as his -boomerang or dingo. Male offspring are held in considerable estimation, -and a father will bewail the death of a son for months, and even for -years. Old men and old, infirm women, on the other hand, are cruelly -abandoned, and left to starve to death, for they are considered -worthless and a burden, and consumers of the food that should go to the -support of the young and physically strong. During the summer they roam -about naked, utterly strangers to shame, which seems not to be innate -to their natures. Wives are accounted an item in a man’s chattels, -the stealing of which being met with some definite punishment. Caves, -where they abound, afford shelter and security for some of the tribes, -but where these are not found, screens of twigs and bushes covered -with leaves or turf, or logs of wood and turf, serve for protection -and cover for a few days or weeks, till the pursuit of food calls them -elsewhere. - -[Illustration: AUSTRALIAN AT HOME. - -Returned from the Chase with Kangaroo.] - -Thrift is unknown to the Australian. His life alternates between -satiety and semi-starvation. In summer he goes naked, but in winter -he wraps himself in kangaroo skins. A girdle of hair bound about his -loins holds his dowak, as his digging-stick is called, and an apron of -skins suspended from the girdle affords a protection from shrubs. His -food consists largely of animals, which he devours alive, and includes -lizards, snakes, the heads being rejected, frogs, white ants, larvæ and -moths. Other animals are roasted, showing that the Australian knows, -contrary to an opinion that once prevailed, the method of kindling a -fire. In seasons of dearth, when there is a paucity of food-material, -cannibalism is general. He then makes an attack upon a neighboring -tribe who is his enemy, and if he cannot obtain food in this manner, -he scruples not to fall back upon his wife and his children. One -obligation of the wife is to keep her husband supplied with vegetable -food, such as the roots of the wild yam, seeds of the acacia, sophoræ, -leaves of the grass-tree, etc. Failing to produce a sufficiency, she is -liberally treated with maulings and spearings, so that a wife generally -appears bruised and gashed all over her body. - -Among the different tribes of Australians, the boomerang is the -principal weapon. This is a flat stick, three feet in length, and -curves at the centre. It is thrown into the air among birds, jerks in a -zigzag, spiral or circular fashion, and when thrown by a person skilled -in its use is sure to bring down a few individuals at every throwing. -Besides this weapon they have the throwing-stick, flint-pointed spears, -shields, stone-hatchets, digging-sticks, netting-needles, nets of -sinews, fibres or hairs, water-skins and canoes. - -No government exists among this people outside that of the family, and -no laws except certain traditionary rules about property. As for their -religion, they have little save their terror of ghosts and demons, -and certain superstitious traditional rites applicable to epochs in a -man’s life, but more especially so at the time of his burial. At ten -years of age, a boy is covered with blood; at ten to fourteen, he is -circumcised in the north and south of Australia, but not in the west or -on the Murray River; and at twenty, he is tattooed or scarred. Felicity -after death is the reward of proper burial, but a man dying in battle -or rotting in a field becomes an evil genius. - -No more perfect example of tribal organization exists than that of -the tribes of Australasia. In a very large proportion of existing -tribes, the tribe is an aggregate of several stocks or distinct -bodies of kindred, the persons composing the tribes being included -in stocks which are, or are accounted, distinct from each other. Two -tribal customs, namely, the prohibition of marriage between persons -of the same stock, and the reckoning of kinship through females only, -so that children are accounted of the stock of their mother, sustain -this organization. Persons of the same stock, too, owe duties to each -other, and are to some extent participants in each other’s liabilities. -An injury done by a man is an injury done by his stock, which may be -avenged upon any member thereof; or an injury done to a man is an -injury done by his stock, for which every member of it is bound to -seek vengeance. As a consequence of these customs, a husband must be -of a different stock from his wife or wives, and therefore must be -accounted of a different stock from his children; and if he has wives -of different stocks, then their respective children are accounted of -different stocks. More than one stock, it will thus be perceived, is -represented in every household. And since a man owes duties to his -stock--the duties of acknowledged blood-relationship--while to those -of his family who are not of his stock, there being nothing but the -accident of birth to unite him, it necessarily follows that the family -among these tribes has very little cohesion. - -Wholly sensuous is the language of the Australian, their abstraction -tending only in the way of arithmetic as far as the number five, and -that itself being quite an unusual stretch. Polysyllabic as it is in -formation, and having the accent on the penultimate, it is not at all -inharmonious. Though it comprehends many divergent forms, yet they -seem to be all fundamentally connected, constituting a group entirely -isolated from any of the linguistic families of the other parts of the -world. Within its narrow confines the language is well developed and -sensuously copious and expressive. - -Like almost all other savages, the native Australians are rapidly -disappearing before the spread of civilization. The European settlers -crowd them out of all the more fertile and habitable lands, pressing -them more and more into the desert of the interior, where they find -it exceedingly hard to obtain in their roving, unsettled lives the -necessary means of subsistence. Great numbers are thus forced to -succumb to deprivations not of their own bringing, and not a few to the -diseases and vices brought among them by the new possessors of their -domains. The lowest estimate of their number, prior to the settlement -of Europeans among them, gives over 150,000, but the natives still -surviving scarcely figure one-half of that population. It is only a -question of a decade or two when the Australian, like the Tasmanian, -who was once his near neighbor, will have vanished from off the face of -the country, leaving behind him his implements of war and the chase, -his culinary and domestic apparatus, and the rude carvings of his -hands in caves and in rocks, as the principal evidences of his earthly -existence. - -By competent critics the Australian is pronounced to be the most -degraded of human beings, and the lowest type of man. In reason, love, -generosity, conscience and mere responsibility he is the inferior of -many of the lower animals, and in the erection of a house for comfort, -shelter and security he is surpassed by creatures even as low in the -scale as the worms and insects. It is true, when hunger has to be met, -that he has shown some skill in the manufacture of implements necessary -to the obtainment of his food, and also in resisting the attacks of his -own kind and of the natural enemies by which he is surrounded. There -is no doubt that he is well satisfied with his condition in life, and -could hardly be induced to exchange it for another. He has doubtless -fulfilled the purpose of his being in the world, and unable to cope in -the struggle for existence with a superior civilization must succumb -to the latter which is better fitted to endure, a sad but impressive -lesson which is the teaching of every chapter of the world’s geologic -story. - - - - -LIVING SOULS. - - -All things were made by the Word of God. In this Word was life, spirit -or energy. Without it was not anything made that was made. Hence, says -Elihu, “the _Spirit_ of God hath made me, and the _breath_ of the -Almighty hath given me _life_;” or, as Moses testifies, “the Lord God -formed man, the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the -breath of lives; and _man_ became _a_ LIVING SOUL.” - -Now, if it be asked what the Scriptures define a living soul to be, the -answer is a living natural, or animal body, whether of beasts, birds, -fish or men. The phrase living creature is the exact synonyme of living -soul. The words _nephesh chayiah_ are in Hebrew the signs of the ideas -expressed by Moses, _nephesh_ signifying _creature_, _life_, _soul_, or -_breathing frame_ from the verb _breathe_, and _chayiah_, a noun from -the verb _to live_, _of life_. _Nephesh chayiah_ is the genus which -includes all species of living creatures. In the common version of the -Scriptures, it is rendered _living soul_, and, therefore, under this -form of expression they speak of all flesh which breathes in air, earth -and sea. - -From the evidence adduced a man then is merely a body of life in the -sense of his being an animal or living creature--_nephesh chayiah -adam_. Therefore, as a natural man, he has no preëminence over the -creatures God has made. Moses makes no distinction between him and -them, for he calls them all living souls, breathing the breath of -lives. His language, literally rendered, says, “and God said, the -waters shall produce abundantly _sheretz chayiah nephesh_ the _reptile -living soul_;” and again, “_kal nephesh chayiah erameshat_ every -living soul creeping.” In another verse, “let the earth bring forth -_nephesh chayiah_ the living soul after its kind, cattle, and creeping -thing, and beast of the earth after its kind,” and “_lekol rumesh ol -earetz asher bu nephesh chayiah_ to everything creeping upon the earth -which has in it living breath,” that is, the breath of lives. And -lastly, “whatsoever Adam called _nephesh chayiah_ the living soul that -was the name thereof.” - -Not even are quadrupeds and men living souls, but they are vivified -by the same breath and spirit. _Neshemet chayim_, or the _breath of -lives_, and not the _breath_ of _life_ as the text of the common -version has it, is said to be in the inferior creatures as well as in -man. _Chayim_ in the Hebrew is in the plural number, and therefore -the words _neshemet chayim_ should be rendered as above. Thus, God -said, “I bring a flood of waters upon the earth to destroy _all flesh_ -wherein is _ruach chayim_ spirit of lives.” And in another place, “they -went in to Noah into the ark, two and two of _all flesh_, in which is -_ruach chayim_ spirit of lives.” And _all flesh_ died that moved upon -the earth, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every -creeping thing, and every man; all in whose nostrils was _neshemet -ruach chayim_, BREATH OF SPIRIT OF LIVES. Now, as has been previously -affirmed, it was the _neshemet chayim_ with which God, according to the -testimony of Moses, inflated the nostrils of Adam. If, therefore, this -were a particle of the divine essence, as it is declared, which became -the immortal soul in man, then all other animals have likewise immortal -souls, for they all received breath of spirit of lives in common -with him. Begotten of the same Invisible Power, and formed from the -substance of a common earth mother, man and beasts were animated by the -same spirit, and constituted to be _living breathing frames_, though -of different species, and in God they lived, and moved, and had their -continued being. - -Returning to the philology of our subject, it is to be remarked that -by a metonymy, or a figure of speech where the container is put for -the thing contained, and conversely, _nephesh_, _breathing frame_, -is put for _neshemet ruach chayim_, which, when in motion, causeth -the frame to respire. Hence _nephesh_ signifies not only _breath_ and -_soul_, but also _life_, or those mutually affective, positive and -negative principles in all living creatures, whose closed circuits -cause motion of and in their frames. By Moses these principles, or -qualities of the same thing, are apparently styled the _Ruach Elohim_, -or by Timothy the Spirit of Him “who only hath immortality, dwelling -in the light which no man can approach unto, whom no man hath seen, -nor can see,” and which, when the word was spoken, first moved upon -the face of the waters, and afterwards disengaged the light, evolved -the expanse, gathered the waters together, brought forth the green -vegetation, manifested the celestial universe, vitalized the breathing -frames of the dry land, the firmament and the seas, and formed man -in His own image and likeness. This _ruach_, or spirit, was the -instrumental principle commissioned by the glorious Increate for the -elaboration of the natural world, the erection of this earthly house, -and its equipment with living souls of every species; and it is this -same instrumentally formative power that, together with the _neshemeh_, -or breath, that keeps them from perishing, or returning to the dust. -“If God set his heart against man, He will withdraw to himself _ruachu -veneshemetu_, that is, _His spirit and His breath_; all flesh shall -“perish together, and man shall turn again to dust.” “By the _neshemet -el_,” or breath of God, “frost is given.” Speaking of reptiles and -beasts, David saith, “thou withdrawest _ruachem_--_their spirit_--they -die; and to their dust they return. Thou sendest forth _ruheck_--thy -spirit--they are created.” - -[Illustration: REPRESENTATIVE LIFE OF WESTERN ASIA. - -Illustrating the Scriptural Idea of Living Souls]. - -From this cumulative evidence it is manifest that the _ruach_ is -all-pervading. It is in heaven, in sheol, or in the dust of the deepest -hollow; in the uttermost depths of the sea; in the darkness as well as -in the light; in all things animate and inanimate. In the broadest, or -I may say, in an illimitable sense, it is an _universal_ principle. It -is the substratum of all motion, whether manifested in the revolutions -of the planets, in the ebb and flow of the sea, in winds and storms and -tempests, or in the organisms of plants and animals. The atmospheric -expanse is charged with it; but it is not the air. Animals and plants -breathe it, but it is not their breath; yet without it, though filled -with air, they would die. _Neshemet el_, or atmospheric air, is the -breath of God, as Job puts it, or the mighty expanse, as affirmed by -Moses. What the _ruach_, or spirit, is, none with certainty can say. -Extending from the centre of the earth, and thence in all directions -through the immensity of space, is the _Ruach Elohim_, whose existence -is demonstrable from the phenomena of the natural order of things. -It penetrates where _neshemet el_ cannot penetrate, but when speaking -of the motivity and sustentation of organized dust, or souls, they -co-exist with them, the _Ruach Elohim_ becoming the _ruach chayim_, or -spirit of lives; the _neshemet el_, the _neshemet chayim_, or breath -of lives, and both together in the elaboration and support of life, -the _neshemet ruach chayim_, or breath of the spirit of lives. Living -creatures, or souls, are not animated, as is erroneously supposed, by -a vital principle which is capable of disembodied existence. On the -contrary, souls are made living by the coetaneous operation of the -_ruach chayim_ and the _neshemet chayim_ upon their organized tissues -according to certain fixed laws, called natural laws. When the as yet -occult laws of the all-pervading _ruach_, or spirit, shall be made -known, men will be astonished at their ignorance respecting living -souls, as we are at the notion of the ancients that their immortal gods -resided in the stocks and the stones they so ignorantly worshipped. - -Though lent to the creatures of the natural world for the allotted -period of their living existence, yet the _ruach chayim_ and _neshemet -chayim_ are still God’s breath and God’s spirit, and to distinguish -them from the expanse of air and spirit in their totality, they are -sometimes specifically styled “the spirit of man” and “the spirit of -the beast,” or collectively “the spirits of all flesh,” and “their -breath.” Thus it is written in Ecclesiastes, “they have all _one -ruach_, or spirit, so that man hath no preëminence over a beast; for -all is vanity or vapor.” “All go to one place; all are of the dust, and -all turn to dust again.” And in the sense of supplying to every living -creature, or soul, spirit and breath, Jehovah is styled by Moses in the -book of Numbers,--“God of the _spirits_ of _all flesh_.” - -Enough has been advanced to show the Scriptural import of the text -already quoted, that “the Lord God formed man, the dust of the ground, -and breathed into his nostrils the breath of lives; and man became a -living soul.” The simple, obvious and undogmatic meaning of this is, -that the dust being animalized, and then organized, was next set in -motion by the inrush of the air through his nostrils into his lungs -according to natural laws. This phenomenon was the _neshemet el_, or -“breath of God,” breathing into him; and as it was the pabulum of life -to all creatures constituted of dust, it was very expressively styled -the “breath of _lives_,” and not the “breath of _life_.” God breathes -into every man at his birth the breath of lives to this day, and there -can be no reason, Scriptural or otherwise, why we should deny that -He breathed it into Adam as He hath done into the nostrils of his -posterity by the operation of natural laws. Man, as soon as he began to -respire, like the embryo passing from fœtal to infant life, “became a -_living soul_,” that is, _nephesh chayiah_, a living, breathing frame, -or _body of life_. All kinds of flesh, whether of man, beast, fowl and -creeping thing, are made alive by the same breath and spirit. They all -become, in consequence, living souls, so that, having a _oneness of -spirit_, a man hath no superiority over a beast. - -Having now proved, as we think, beyond the possibility of a doubt, -that men and beasts “have all one _ruach_, or spirit,” and hence are -all living souls, we now approach a form of life, termed vegetable -life, about which the Scriptures have little to say. _Neshemet el_, or -atmospheric air, is just as essential to plants as to animals. Deprived -of it they wither and die. No less necessary is the all-pervading -_ruach_, or spirit. It is in the air, though not of the air. Plants, -equally with animals, breathe it, but it is not their breath. Without -it, even though filled with air, they would perish. Perhaps it is the -base of each of the elementary constituents of the air. Uncombined, -may it not be that wonderful fluid whose explosions are heard in the -thunder, whose fiery bolts overthrow the loftiest towers and rive the -sturdy monarchs of the woods, and whose influence, though in less -intensity, gives polarity to light, the needle, and the brain? - -Living plants are a part and parcel of the life of our globe. They -preceded in the grand scheme of creation animal existences. Low down -in the scale of life are forms about which it cannot be predicated -these are plants and these are animals. Scientists are unable to say -where plant-life ends and animal-life begins. No hard-and-fast line -can be drawn between the two vast kingdoms of life, and it is often -wholly impossible to decide whether we are dealing with an animal or a -plant. There can be no question that the earliest life was vegetable -by nature, and that its habitat was the primeval ocean. This is no -less the teaching of science than that of the Scriptures. From some -such life, originating _de novo_ as the Spirit of God passed over the -waters, the two great branches of animate nature may have taken their -rise. What the form of this life may have been, whether cellular or a -mere mass of formless protoplasm, the mind of man cannot asseverate. -It is a mystery, and will doubtless ever remain as such to finite -intelligence. That this life, no matter how apparently insignificant -it must have been, breathed in its own simple fashion, that is, by the -coetaneous operation of the _ruach chayim_ and the _neshemet chayim_ -upon its simple substance in accordance with natural law, there can be -no dispute. Breathing is not always conditioned by the existence of -nostrils. Plants respire, or, in other words, take in carbonic acid -from the air through their stomata, or mouths, which they separate into -its components of carbon and oxygen, appropriating the former, which -they build into solid matter, but usually throwing off the latter into -the great receptacle of atmosphere from which it was extracted. Even -a moner, which has no distinction of parts, may be said to breathe, -but it breathes by means of its whole external surface, for _neshemeh_ -and _ruach_ are as necessary to it as to man himself. It will thus -be obvious that plants are living, breathing frames, or bodies of -life, and hence are as much entitled to be considered as living souls -as animals are. Let but God withdraw his _ruach_, or spirit, from -them, and they die and to their dust return. Surely no more could be -predicated of animals. - - - - -CONSCIOUSNESS IN PLANTS. - - -Plants, it has been vaguely asserted, differ from animals by not -having the power of movement. Rather should it be stated that plants -acquire and display this power when it is to their advantage. This -will be found to be of comparatively rare occurrence, as they are -affixed to the ground, and food is brought to them by the air and rain. -Evidence of the very high position a plant may attain in the scale -of organization may be seen when we look at one of the more perfect -tendril-bearers. As a polypus adjusts its tentacula for action, so a -plant places its tendrils. If the tendril be displaced, it sets to -work to right itself. Acted on by the light, it bends towards or from -it, or disregards it altogether, whichever course may be the most -advantageous. For several days the tendrils or internodes of the plant, -or both, spontaneously or otherwise revolve with a steady motion. But -should they strike some object, they curl quickly around it, grasp it -with wonderful firmness, and in the course of a few hours contract into -spirals, dragging up the stems, and forming most excellent springs. All -external movements now cease, and by growth the tissues soon become -surprisingly strong and durable. - -Such a movement, as has just been considered, is a widely prevalent -one in plants, and is essentially of the same nature as that of the -stem of a climbing plant, which successively bends to all points of -the compass, so that the tip is made to revolve. This movement has -been called _revolving nutation_ by some writers, and _circumnutation_ -by others. In the case of the circumnutating movement of the tip of -the radicle of some plants, there can be no doubt that it is it that -affords the radicle some slight assistance in penetrating the ground. -But whether or not a radicle, when surrounded by softened earth, is -aided in making a passage for itself by circumnutating, one thing is -certain, that is, that this movement, by guiding the radicle along a -line of least resistance, can hardly fail to be of high importance. -Should, however, a radicle in its downward growth break obliquely into -any crevice, or an opening left by a decayed root, or one made by the -larva of an insect, and more especially by worms, the circumnutating -movement of the tip will materially aid it in following such open -passages. Not only our own observation, but also those of such eminent -authorities as Darwin and Hensen, conclusively show that roots commonly -run down the old burrows of worms. - -But radicles of seedlings, as well as those of more vigorous plants, -would pass over stones, roots and other obstacles, which they must -necessarily encounter in the soil. This they are abundantly able to do, -for they are exceedingly sensitive just above their apices, and bend -like a tendril _towards_ the touching object. When, however, one side -of the apex is pressed by any object, the growing part bends _away_ -from that object, and this seems a beautiful adaptation for avoiding -obstacles in the soil, and for following the lines of least resistance. - -[Illustration: SEEDLING OF WINTER GRAPE. - -Earth Cut Away to Show Directions Taken by Tip of Radicle in Avoiding a -Stone.] - -So feeble is the circumnutating movement of the terminal growing part, -both of the primary and secondary radicles, that it can assist them -but little in penetrating the ground, excepting when the superficial -layer is very soft and moist. But it must aid them materially when -they chance to break obliquely into cracks, or into burrows that -have been made by earth-worms or larvæ. Moreover, combined as it is -with the sensitiveness of the tip of the radicle to contact, it can -hardly fail to be of the highest importance, for as the tip is always -endeavoring to bend to all sides, it will press on all sides, and will -thus be able to discriminate between the harder and softer adjoining -surfaces. Consequently, it will tend to bend from the harder soil, -and will thus take the directions of the least resistance. So it will -act if it meet with a stone or the root of another plant in the soil, -as must incessantly occur. If the tip were not sensitive, and did not -excite the upper part of the radicle to bend away, whenever obstacles -were encountered at right angles to its growing direction, it would -undoubtedly be liable to be doubled up into a contorted mass. But with -radicles growing down inclined plates of glass, as shown by experiment, -it has been observed that as soon as the tip merely touched a slip -of wood cemented across the plate, the entire terminal growing point -curved away, so that the tip soon stood at right angles to its former -direction; and thus, as far as the pressure of the surrounding soil -would permit, would it be with an obstacle encountered in the ground. -Thick and strong radicles, like those of the horse-chestnut, are -endowed with less sensitiveness than more delicate ones, and would -therefore be the better able by the force of their growth to overcome -any slight impediment to their progress. Further, as radicles perceive -an excess of moisture in the air on one side and bend towards this -side, it is reasonable to infer that they will act in a similar -manner with respect to moisture in the earth, for the sensitiveness -of moisture resides in the tip, which determines the bending of the -upper part. May not this capacity partly account for the extent to -which drain-pipes often become choked with roots? The direction which -the apex takes at each successive period of the growth of a root, -ultimately determines its whole course. It is therefore very important -that the apex should follow from the first the most advantageous -direction. We can thus understand why sensitiveness to geotropism, -contact and moisture should all reside in the tip, and why it should -determine the upper growing part to bend either from or to the exciting -cause. Darwin has compared a radicle with a burrowing animal, such as -a mole, which wishes to penetrate vertically into the ground. By a -process of circumnutation, or the movement of his head from side to -side, he is enabled to feel any stone or other obstacle, as well as -any difference in hardness of soil that may exist, and will therefore -turn from that side; but if damper on one side than on the other, will -turn thither as a more suitable hunting-ground. Nevertheless, after -each interruption, he, guided by the sense of gravity, will be able to -recover his downward direction and to reach to a greater depth. - -Destruction of the tip of a radicle does not prevent the adjoining -part from bending, if this part has already received some influence -from the tip. As with a horizontally extended radicle, whose tip has -been cut off or destroyed, the part which should bend most remains -motionless for many days or hours, even though exposed at right -angles to the full influence of gravity, we cannot do otherwise than -conclude that the tip alone is sensitive to this power, and transmits -some stimulus to the neighboring parts, thereby causing them to bend. -Direct evidence of such transmission has been obtained. When a radicle -was left extended horizontally for an hour or an hour and a half, by -which time the supposed influence will have travelled some distance -from the tip, and the tip was then cut off, the radicle subsequently -became bent, although it was placed in a perpendicular position. -Terminal portions of several radicles thus treated continued for some -time to grow in the direction of their newly-acquired curvature, for -being destitute of tips they were no longer acted upon by the power of -gravity. New vegetative points, however, appeared, and being acted on -by this influence coursed themselves perpendicularly downward as was -their custom. - -Investigation having shown that it is the tip of the radicle that is -sensitive to geotropism in the members of such distinct families as -the Leguminosæ, Malvaceæ, Cucurbitaceæ and Gramineæ, which may be -represented by the Clover, Mallow, Gourd and Rye, we may justly infer -that this character is common to the roots of most seedling-plants. -Whilst a root is penetrating the ground, the tip must take the -incipient step, as it has to determine the direction of the entire -root. When, however, it is deflected by any subterranean obstacle, it -is essential that a considerable length of the root should be able to -bend, particularly as the tip itself grows slowly and bends but little, -so that the proper downward course should be recovered. Immaterial as -it would seem whether the entire growing part should be so sensitive -to geotropism as to effect this movement, or that it should be brought -about by an influence transmitted exclusively from the tip, we should, -however, remember that it is the tip that is sensitive to the contact -of hard objects, causing the radicle to bend away from them, thus -directing it along certain lines in the soil where the least opposition -interposes. It is again the tip that is alone sensitive, at least in -some instances, to moisture, causing the radicle to bend towards its -source. These last two kinds of sensitiveness conquer for a time the -sensitiveness to geotropism, which, however, ultimately prevails. But -the three kinds most often come into antagonism, first one prevailing, -and then the other. It would, therefore, be an advantage, perhaps a -necessity, for the interweighing and reconciling of these different -kinds of sensitiveness, that they should all be localized in the same -group of cells which have to transmit the command to the adjoining -parts of the radicle, necessitating it to bend to or from the source of -the irritation. - -Though generally believed by authors that the modification of the upper -or lower surfaces of a radicle, whereby curvature is induced in the -proper direction, is the direct result of gravitation, yet there can be -no question from all that has been said that it is the tip alone that -is acted on and that transmits some influence to the adjoining parts, -causing them to curve in a downward manner. Gravity, it would seem, -does not act in a more direct way on a radicle than it does on any -lowly-organized animal, which moves away when it feels some weight or -pressure. - -When we consider what we have written, it is impossible not to be -impressed with the resemblance between the movements of plants and -many of the actions performed by the lower animals. With plants -an astonishingly small stimulus suffices. One plant may be highly -sensitive to the slightest continued pressure, while a closely-allied -form just as highly sensitive to a slight momentary touch. The habit -of moving at certain periods is inherited both by plants and animals; -and other points of similitude have been specified. But the most -striking resemblance is the localization of their sensitiveness, and -the transmission of a stimulus from the exciting point to another, -which consequently moves. Yet plants do not, of course, possess -nerves or a central nervous system. May we not therefore infer, and -wisely so, too, that with animals such structures but serve for the -more perfect transmission of impressions, and for the more complete -intercommunication of their several parts? - -No structure in plants seems more wonderful, as far as its functions -are concerned, than the tip of the radicle. Lightly pressed or burnt -or cut, it transmits an influence to the upper adjoining part, causing -it to bend away from the affected side. But more surprising, however, -is the fact that the tip can distinguish between a slightly harder -and softer object, by which it is simultaneously pressed on opposite -sides. Let the radicle be pressed by a similar object a little above -the tip, and it will be noticed that the pressed part does not transmit -any influence to the more distant parts, but bends abruptly towards -the object. Perceiving the air to be moister on one side than the -other, it likewise sends out an influence to the upper adjoining part, -which deflects towards the source of the moisture. When excited by -light, the neighboring part bends from the light; but when excited by -gravitation, the same part bends towards the centre of gravity. In -almost every instance the ultimate purpose or advantage of the several -movements can be clearly perceived. Two, or perhaps more, of the -exciting causes often act simultaneously on the tip, and one conquers -the other, doubtless in accordance with its importance for the life of -the plant. The course pursued by the radicle in penetrating the ground -being determined by the tip, has acquired for it the diverse kinds of -sensitiveness which it possesses; and it is hardly an exaggeration to -assert that the tip of the radicle thus endowed, and having the power -to direct the movements of the adjoining parts, acts like the brain of -one of the lower animals, which organ, seated within the anterior end -of the body, receives impressions from the sense-organs, and directs -their several movements. - -In animals possessed of a nervous system, contractions only follow -stimuli, which are carried to the contractile elements by nervous -threads, the internal energy representing the external stimulus being -called nervous energy or neurism. But where a nervous system does not -exist, as is the case in some low animals and in all plants, external -stimuli must be justly supposed to be converted into the same form of -energy, which in such organisms has a general circulation throughout -the contractile protoplasm. The attainment of some position, favorable -for the procurement of relief from some unpleasant sensation, or the -acquisition of some agreeable one, or for both, is the important thing -directly subserved by such movements in the generality of animals. -While we have the best of reasons for believing this to be true in -the vast majority of animals, because fundamentally their structure -is similar to our own, yet the inference that the same is true of the -lowest forms of life is justifiable until it is proved to be mistaken. - -Whatever be the nature of any movement, whether the projecting of -portions of its own body-substance as pseudopodia in the primitive -animal, the movement of flagella or cilia in more specialized forms, -or the turning of the radicle of a plant-seedling in overcoming some -obstacle, there is no resisting the conclusion that the functions of -these organs, when once called into existence, are due to stimuli -not unlike those which affect the motions of the limbs of the higher -animals, and that the preliminary to all such movements, which are -not automatic, is an effort. And as no adaptive movement is automatic -the first time it is performed, effort, therefore, may be regarded -as the immediate source of all movement. Now, effort is a conscious -state, and implies a sense of resistance to be overcome. But when an -act is performed without effort, resistance has been overcome, and the -mechanism requisite for its performance has been completed. Automatism -has now been reached. New movements, in their incipiency, necessarily -meet with resistance. How this resistance is overcome, there seems to -be some diversity of opinion among physiologists and metaphysicians, -but it is generally believed that some such mental state as a sensation -or a desire, which may or may not stimulate a natural process as an -intervening element in the circuit, is concerned in its subduement. -That sense-perceptions are stimuli to the immediate appearance -of structural changes or movements is shown by the production of -color-changes in animals through changes in the condition of the organs -of sight and in the bending of the radicle of a seedling-plant a short -distance above its tip in obedience to a communication from the tip of -a sensation of hardness, caused by contact with a stone experienced in -its downward progress in the ground. - -[Illustration: TIP OF RADICLE OF SEEDLING MAPLE. - -Lower Cells Show Where Consciousness is Supposed to Reside.] - -New conditions bring forth new acts in animals. No one can deny this -statement, as instances of its truth are too frequent to believe -otherwise. That such may be predicated of plants, which have not the -ability, as a rule, to meet with new conditions by reason of their -being affixed to the soil, very few persons are willing to admit; -but there is no getting away from the fact. The tip of the radicle of -a plant not only has the power, acting as a brain, as it would seem, -of guiding the root out of the reach of an obstacle that would be -injurious, or in the direction of water when it would be an advantage, -but a tendril has also the ability, in obedience to some inherent -force, of making its way to a support that has been purposely placed -in the near distance for its especial benefit. No external agencies, -which the materialistic naturalist has devised for accounting for the -movements of plants and low types of animal existences that are devoid -of a visible nervous system, can possibly explain these movements, -which are only explicable on the theory that nervous energy may be -elaborated and be distributed without such a system by and through the -general mass of the plant or animal, or by and through such parts as -may be necessary to its good. - -No one who has experimented with the Droseras or Sundews, can have -failed to observe the extreme sensitiveness which resides in their -leaves. That these plants manifest a comparatively high order of -consciousness, there can be no question. Try them with insects, or rare -bits of meat, as articles of diet, and in a few hours, if vigorous -leaves have been experimented with, the leaves will have folded around -the food and commenced their curious process of assimilation. Mineral -substances, such as bits of chalk, magnesia and small pebbles, have no -such effect. They seem to ignore these things, just as an intelligent -animal would if they were placed by its side. Some experiments made -by Mrs. Treat, several summers ago, go far to confirm the statement -that plants are endowed with some sort of consciousness. _Drosera -filiformis_ was the species used in her experiments. Some living flies -were pinned one-half an inch from the leaves, but near their apical -extremities. In forty minutes the leaves had perceptibly bent toward -the flies, and in little more than an hour had reached the prey, the -legs of the latter being entangled and held fast by the tentacles of -the leaves. Next, the flies were removed three-quarters of an inch -further from the leaves, but the latter, even though bent away from -the direction of the light, failed to reach them at this distance. -What was it that induced the leaves to stretch in the direction of the -flies? Had the sun been shining from that side, it might be said that -the movement of the leaves was influenced by its light and heat, for -plants as a general rule turn toward that part of the heavens where -these energies are the most effective. It cannot be that they were -produced by some emanation of moisture from the bodies of the flies, -or by any influence that might be exercised by the vibratory movements -of their wings. No vain imaginings of such character will suffice for -their explanation. The energy necessary to explain this phenomenon -must come from within the leaves themselves. There was felt within -them a desire for food, and it was this desire that led the leaves to -bend away from the light and in the direction of the objects whose -presence created in them that sensation. But how they were able, in the -absence of any visible sense-organs, to determine the presence of these -objects, is difficult to surmise. That they are sensitive to contact is -generally conceded. And in them, no doubt, the sense of touch is keenly -developed. Granting this to be the truth, then they see, as a blind -man sees, by the sense of feeling. Currents of air, established by the -vibration of the insect’s wings, impinging upon the epidermis of the -leaves, affect the cells beneath, and a nervous influence is started, -guided by some central agency, of which we know nothing, causing the -leaves to bend in the proper direction. But why the leaves do not -thus bend when impinged upon by currents other than those produced -by insects, I am unable to say. Even as a blind man, though deaf, is -able through the sense of touch to discriminate moving objects by the -currents of air they excite, so it may be presumed that the leaves of -Drosera are endowed with the same wonderful and intelligent capacity. -Such a feeling once experienced would be apt to be known again, for -it would become fixed in consciousness by a process of memory. That -Drosera, whose habits are more animal-like than plant-like, must occupy -a high position in the scale of vegetable life, there can be no reason -to doubt from what has been said, and this assumption receives a most -remarkable confirmation from the fact that there are evidences, not -apparent however, of a sort of nervous system in its make-up, as shown -by the discovery of Darwin that by pricking a certain point in a leaf -one-half of its substance becomes paralyzed. - -Wonderful as these facts are, yet they are not more so than some -recent discoveries made by Stahl while studying the simple movements -and physical conditions of certain low plants called Myxomycetes. In -their young stages these plants wander from the parts of the deposit -on which they are creeping, and which are gradually drying up, toward -those which are more moist. It is possible, by bringing moist bodies -in proximity to any ramifications, to produce pseudopodia, which lift -themselves from the deposit, and soon come into contact with the moist -object, so as to enable the whole mass of the plasmodium, that is, the -large, motile, membranous protoplasmic body formed by the coalescence -of the swarm-spores of the Myxomycetes, to migrate thereon. But on -the entrance of the plasmodia into the fructifying condition, the -Myxomycete quits the moist deposit, technically called the substratum, -and creeps upwards on to the surface of dry objects. Unequal -distribution of warmth in the substratum and unequal supplies of oxygen -and chemical substances soluble in water also cause locomotion in these -strange organisms. Let the plasmodia come into contact on one side -with solutions of saltpetre, carbonate of potash or common salt, and -they at once withdraw from the dangerous spot; but an infusion of tan, -or a dilute solution of sugar, causes a flow of the protoplasm and an -ultimate translocation of the entire plasmodial mass towards the source -of nourishment. Some solutions have an attractive or repulsive effect, -but this is in accordance with the degree of their concentration. -Unlike what is so natural to plants in general, the Myxomycetes seem to -have an aversion to light, as shown by their disposition to withdraw -from its presence. - -How such tender structures as the Myxomycetes, which are destitute -of every kind of external protection, are enabled to carry on their -existence, the knowledge of the remarkably delicate reaction of -their plasmodia under external influences prepares us to understand. -Plasmodia, which are not yet ripe for reproduction, are kept in the -moist substratum by their peculiar affection for moisture and utter -dislike of the light. But within the darkness and moisture of the -substratum the plasmodia do not necessarily remain in one place, -for the differences in the chemical composition of the substratum -cause continual migrations. Nothing more remarkable can be said of -the plasmodia than that they have a wonderful faculty of avoiding -harmful substances, and, traversing the substratum in all directions, -of taking up the materials they require for food and growth. When, -however, their internal changes have advanced so far that the plasmodia -are approaching the fructifying condition, they are brought by their -dislike for moisture, which now sets in, from the moist ground of -forest or wood which they affect to the surface, where they creep up -various upright objects, frequently not doing more than forming rigid -reproductive capsules at some height from the ground. If, however, the -substratum becomes gradually colder, as is the case in autumn, a change -which sets in at the surface moving downwards, then the plasmodia -migrate into deeper regions still having a higher temperature; but when -the cooling proceeds very gradually, which especially happens in large -tan-heaps, the plasmodia may in their migration attain considerable -depths, where they then change into sclerotia, which are hard tuberous -substances, resembling the tubers and bulbs of flowering plants. -If, however, the temperature begins to ascend, the sclerotia again -germinate, and movement takes place from the deeper and cooler parts -to the upper already named. - -Thus we see, in the locomotion of the Myxomycetes, extremely -interesting cases of movements due to stimulation. Light, heat, -moisture and gravitation are, in general, stimulus-movements, and -ultimately all growth depends on stimulus-movement, the most primitive -kind of protoplasmic movement. No causes other than those which -actuate higher organisms can be discerned to account for this lowest -type of organic movement. What form of inorganic energy can be cited -of sufficient potency to cause the organism to change, and without -regard to gravitation or any known form of attraction or repulsion, -its position in obedience to stimuli acting for its self-preservation? -There is none. In the Fuligo, or Tan Flower, a most remarkable example -of designed movement has been observed. This form will, according -to H. J. Carter, in its early amœbula stage, when isolated from the -sawdust and chips of wood among which it has been living, adapt itself -to the water of a watch-glass, or any other shallow vessel, in which -it may happen to be placed. But, if the watch-glass be placed upon the -sawdust, then it will make its way over the side of the glass to get to -the sawdust. Here is probably shown a sense-perception of the presence -and position of the tan-bark, as well as a feeling of desire to go to -it. May not this desire have been due to a sense of discomfort induced -by the surrounding water, or to the calling up in memory of some -superior comfort associated with the tan-bark? - -Man in his self-complacency thinks that he knows the plants about -him. It is true that he has noted their form, their anatomy, their -color and their resemblances and differences, but how few have studied -them in meadow and woods by the light of a lantern at night or by -the silver rays of the moon. One feels on such an occasion as though -he had stepped from his threshold upon a foreign soil. Folded leaves -and strange sleeping forms will be found to confront you in every -direction. Of the nature of the nocturnal movements of plants, as well -as their varied and curious attitudes, both in leaves and flowers, -much speculation has been rife among botanists. In many flowers the -night attitudes have been conclusively shown to have relation solely -to their fertilization by insects; but the drooping night attitudes -of the leaves were supposed to indicate an aversion to moisture, many -plants seemingly verifying the conjecture by the assumption of the -same position during rain as in the dew. But when the same pranks were -played on a cloudy day or a dewless night, the explanation had to be -abandoned. With the clovers, the nocturnal positions of the heads seem -to be assumed only in the darkness, and this invariably, dew or no dew, -while the leaves appear to revel in the rain, remaining freely open, -their chief concern being the protection of the young blossom-clusters. - -Were our eyes sharp enough we might discern a certain strangeness -in the nocturnal expression of every plant and tree. But in no tree -is this expression so remarkably emphasized as in the locust, a -member of the same leguminous order of plants with the clover. These -trees are especially noted for the pronounced irritability of their -leaves, and odd nocturnal capers, whose seeming vital consciousness -has induced some authorities to place them at the extremity of their -system, in contact with the limits of the animal kingdom. How strange -the pigweeds look at night! Their upper leaves, which during the day -had extended wide on their long stems, now incline upward against the -stalk, enclosing the tops of the younger branches, but still older -plants are seen with leaves extended much as at mid-day, but nearly all -turned edgewise by a twist in the stem. Circling in a close curve, the -creeping-mallow blossom now ignores her proud array of cheeses, and -the oxalis flower has forgotten her shooting pods to keep the vigil, -closed and nodding upon her stem, while her leaves masquerade in one -of the oddest disguises, their three heart-shaped leaflets being seen -reflexed and adjusting themselves back to back around the stem with -many contortions. Whatever the function of this strange nocturnal -movement may be, and it is still a matter of dispute with botanists, -one thing we are certain about, that is, its essential condition to the -life of the plant, careful experiment having demonstrated, according -to one authority, that “if the leaves are prevented from so regulating -their surface, they lose their color and die in a few days”--a fact -which Darwin has just as conclusively shown to be the case with other -plants. - -Flowers that bloom by night could hardly be suspected of that vanity -which Rhodora has been made to confess by Emerson in his beautiful -lines to this flower. Our evening primrose does not bloom in the -dark hours for mere sentiment or moonshine, but from a nature which -lies, figuratively speaking, much nearer her heart. “Often when the -nights are very dark,” says an old writer, “her petals emit a mild -phosphorescent light, and look as if illuminated for a holiday. And -he who does not fear to be out in her mild and lovely haunt may see a -variety of nocturnal ephemeræ hovering around the lighted petals, or -sipping at the flowery fountains, while others rest among the branches -or hurry up the stems as if fearing to be too late.” From the first -moment of her wooing welcome it would seem that our evening primrose -listens for murmuring wings, and awaits that supreme fulfilment -with joyous expectancy, for it will invariably be found that these -blossoms, which open in the twilight, have adapted themselves to -crepuscular moths and other nocturnal insects, a fact which finds a -striking illustration in the instances of very long tubular-shaped -night-blooming flowers, like the honeysuckle and divers orchids, whose -nectar is beyond the ability of any insect but a night-flying hawk-moth -to attain. True, it is, that in other less deep nocturnal flowers the -sweets could be reached by butterflies or bees if the blossoms were -left open. But the night-murmurers receive the first invitation, which, -if accepted, leaves but a wilted, half-hearted blossom to welcome the -sipper of the sunshine. This beautiful expectancy, somehow or other, -determines the limit of its bloom. However, in the event of rain or -other causes preventive of insect visits, the evening primrose will -remain open for the attention of the butterflies during the ensuing -day, when otherwise it would have perceptibly drooped, and extended -to them but a listless welcome. Most strikingly may this fact be seen -illustrated in a spray of mountain-laurel. For nearly a week have I -observed in my house these blossoms lingering in patient expectancy, -when the flowers on the parent shrub in the woods had fallen several -days before, their mission in life having been fulfilled. In the house -specimens the radiating stamens, which are naturally dependent upon -insects for their release, and the consequent discharge of the pollen, -remained in their pockets on the side of the blossom-cup, a support, -as it seemed, for the bracing up of the corolla upon its receptacle. -But when the operation of releasing the stamens was artificially -consummated, the flower-cup soon dropped off or withered upon the -peduncle. - -Not mainly has the writer, in attributing a phosphorescent quality -to the evening primrose, followed the license of fancy, for, if -scientists are to be believed, the regular luminous glow of this -and other nocturnal flowers has long attracted the attention of the -curious, and positive qualities of inherent light have been accorded -in many instances. It is true, as one authority asserts, that “the -evening primrose is perfectly visible in the darkest night,” from -which fact phosphorescent properties have been ascribed to it. Many -well-authenticated cases are on record of luminous, electrical, -lightning-like phosphorescence playing about flowers, the daughter -of Linnæus having been the first one to note such an interesting -phenomenon. Similar flashes or corona have been observed in -nasturtiums, double marigold, geraniums, red poppy, tuberose, sunflower -and evening primrose. According to various authorities, and it would be -a rash and presumptuous commentator who would dare to challenge such -an array of competence, many beautiful surprises await the traveller -among the dewy shadows. Whoever has made such a journey will not only -return with the consciousness that he has doubled his possessions, but -that he has also explored a new world--a realm which he can look in -the face on the morrow with an exchange of recognition that was truly -impossible yesterday. - -Whether or not all the facts that have been adduced show that plants -are conscious organisms in the particulars for which it is claimed, -it matters not, for enough have been set forth to demonstrate beyond -the shadow of a doubt the position that they are endowed with a -consciousness, no matter how infinitesimally small a part it plays -in nature. Everyday observation of the botanist teaches the fact. -Sensation, which is consciousness, has preceded in time and in history -the evolution of the greater part of plants and animals, unicellular -and multicellular, and, therefore, if kinetogenesis, or the doctrine of -the effects of molar motion, be true, “consciousness,” as Cope alleges, -“has been essential to a rising scale of organic evolution.” Animals -which do not perform simple acts of self-preservation must necessarily, -sooner or later, perish. Impossible it is to understand how the lowest -forms of life, wholly dependent as they are on physical conditions of -many kinds, should to-day exist if they were not possessed of some -degree of consciousness under stimuli at least. We have but to picture -to ourselves the condition of a vertebrate, without general or special -sensation, would we obtain a clear perception of the essentiality of -consciousness to its existence. If now use, as has been maintained, -has modified structure, and so, in coöperation with the environment, -has directed evolution, we can understand the origin and development -of useful organs, and also how, by parasitism, or some other mode -of gaining a livelihood without exertion, the adoption of new and -skilful movements would be unnecessary, and consciousness itself seldom -aroused, for continual repose would be followed by sub-consciousness, -and later by unconsciousness. Such appears to be largely the history -of degeneracy everywhere, and such is, perhaps, in a great measure -the history of the entire vegetable kingdom, for plants, from their -ability to manufacture protoplasm from inorganic substances, do not -bodily move about in quest of food as animals generally do, and -therefore require no conscious conditions, it would seem, to guide -their movements. They become fixed, and their entire organization, -except in specialized instances, becomes monopolized by the functions -of nutrition and reproduction. Their movements are mostly rhythmic or -rotary, but that they exhibit the quality of impromptu design more -frequently than scientists are willing to allow must be admitted, or -facts and the conclusions which naturally flow therefrom constitute -no criteria of judging. Too much stress, I fear, is placed in these -days upon the action of certain supposed forces that are resident in -the plant’s or animal’s environment in accounting for its behavior, to -the utter exclusion of any energy that may be acting from within the -organism itself. “That consciousness as well as life preceded organism, -and has been the _primum mobile_ in the creation of organic structure,” -as Cope assumes, there is no doubt; but that it early abandoned the -vegetable world, and also that all the energies of vegetable protoplasm -soon became automatic, causing plants in general to become sessile, -and therefore parasitic and in one sense degenerate, I cannot wholly -accept. That insects have, in the matter of evolution of plant-types, -exerted considerable influence on the conditions of almost all of their -organs, the forms of the organs of fructification and especially of the -flowers, through certain stimuli and strains to which they have become -subjected by reason of these insects and their occupancy of parts as -dwelling-places, there can be no doubt; and it is probable also, as has -been maintained, that we owe to insects, directly or indirectly, not -only the forms, but also the colors of the flowers, and their odors and -peculiar markings as well. And thus while degeneracy, as observed in -the abortion of ovules, carpels and perianth, may be seen everywhere, -which the influences that have acted upon them have induced, yet it is -the height of presumption to assert that consciousness has entirely -abandoned the members of the vegetable kingdom, and that they are -reduced to the condition of mere automata. It is true, as has been -claimed, that the permanent and the successful forms of organization -have ever been those in which motion and sensibility have been -preserved, as well as the most highly developed; and just as true it -is that plants, even though fixed to the soil and unable to effect a -change of environment in consequence, are not so incapable of conscious -actions as not to be able to meet any changes, and these changes do -very often occur, that climate, new conditions of soil, helps or -hindrances to growth and wear, may bring about. That they must adapt -themselves to such changes, or perish in their struggle to exist, none -can question. It is not enough to say that natural selection affords -an explanation of every phenomenon that they may exhibit. There is an -energy within the plant, think and write as we will, and it is this -that comes to its aid and directs the movement that will be productive -of the most good. - -Concluding, then, let me aver that no plant can exist or fulfil its -allotted part in the drama of life without the possession of some form -or degree of consciousness. If it be true that life and consciousness -preceded organization, and the statement can hardly be disputed, and -have been the _primum mobile_ in the creation of organic structure, -what reason, seeing that life necessarily persists in vegetable -organism, can be given for their dissociation in existing forms of -plants, as seems to be the tendency of modern scientific thought? -That plants once possessed consciousness, there can be no difference -of opinion. Well, then, what has become of this consciousness? It -could not have been destroyed, for energy or force, and consciousness -certainly must be placed under this category, can never be destroyed. -I repeat the question. What has become of it? Either it exists in the -plant in a dormant condition, awaiting opportunities to call it into -existence, or it has returned to the great Source of all consciousness, -whence each individual organism, whether of plant or animal, obtained -its _quantum_. It still exists, but how or under what conditions, -I cannot affirm, and is to plants what mind is to man and animals, -controlling their actions when such are for their well-being and good. -If mind persists in a future state, then consciousness, which may be -considered as mind in plants, must also persist, for it is not at all -likely that the Source of all consciousness, which we worship as God, -the Creator of all things, could be unmindful of the least of His -children. - - - - -MIND IN ANIMALS. - - -That the lower animals are in possession of all the characters of the -mind or soul that are either the inherited or acquired properties of -man, some evidence will now be adduced. Foremost among these qualities -is Reason. Much vagueness of idea exists as to what constitutes reason, -the general tendency being to confound it with instinct, and to wonder -where the one ends and the other begins. Hundreds of anecdotes, too -familiar for mention, might be instanced, which have been described as -wonderful examples of instinct, but which, upon careful examination, -have been shown to be undoubted proofs of reason. That disposition of -mind by which, independent of all instruction or experience, animals -are unerringly directed to do spontaneously whatever is necessary -for the preservation of the individual or the continuation of the -species, is instinct. It is instinct that teaches the newly-born child -to breathe, or to seek its mother’s breast and obtain its nourishment -by suction. Instinct teaches the bird how to make its nest after the -manner of its kind, but it is reason that leads it to construct a -fabric radically different from the typical form. Taking the case of -insects, there can be no doubt that it is instinct that teaches the -caterpillar to make its cocoon, to remain there until it has developed -into an imago, and then to force its entrance into the world. Ducks, -though hatched under a hen, instinctively make their way to the water, -while chickens, though hatched under a duck, instinctively keep away -from it. Man, as well as the lower animals, has his instincts, but very -few of them are apparent, for he is able to bring the most of them -under subjection by the power of his reason. Some, however, remain and -assert themselves throughout the entire period of his life. - -There is the widest possible difference between reason and instinct, -the former being an exercise of the will, while the latter is -independent thereof. Instinct comes in at birth, but reason is an -after-growth of the mind. No exercise of thought does instinct require, -but when the mind reasons some conclusion is deduced from the premises -which it has assumed. All animals, in common with ourselves, possess -the power of reasoning, although in a less degree. It is by the -superiority of our reason over theirs that we maintain our supremacy. -False premises often lead to wrong deductions, but their process is -still one of pure reason. With them, as well as with ourselves, reason, -especially in the case of domestic animals, often conquers instinct, -and so by contact with a higher order of reason, that of man’s, their -own is more fully developed. They, in a sense, become civilized. Let -a hungry dog and a cat be left in a room where food is unguarded, -and their instincts will urge them to jump upon the table and help -themselves. But if they have been trained, their reason restrains their -instinct, and, no matter how hungry they may be, they will not touch -the food until it is given to them. Some few years ago a matronly lady -and her dog, a beautiful pug, were accustomed to take their dinner at a -saloon which the writer daily visited. The dog was given a chair on the -side opposite his mistress. He was a well-mannered animal, and never -during his many visits to the place did he ever violate the laws of -good manners. Patiently he would wait until the food was put upon his -plate, and not even then would he take it, for he had been taught that -it was something that should not be hastily seized and eaten. The idea -that food cost money was distinctly impressed upon his mind, and this -the owner did by thrice repeating, “This cost money.” It was evident -that the dog understood what was said from the thoughtful look he gave -her. In a little while he was given the command to eat, but, like the -cultured he was, everything was done orderly and decently. Almost any -animal can be thus trained to subject its natural instincts to its -reason. - -Fishes are not known to possess much reason. There is not an angler, -nevertheless, that will not tell you that he has had the powers of his -mind taxed to the utmost in his efforts to induce an old and wary trout -to take the bait, and even when he has succeeded in hooking him, it has -greatly tried his genius for planning to prevent the fish from breaking -his line. Natural instinct teaches a fish to fly from man, and even -one’s shadow on the water will frighten away the fish and destroy an -angler’s hopes of success. Yet we have seen a pond full of gold-fish -which were quite tame, and which, when they saw a human being at the -side of the pond, would come forward instead of showing alarm. They -were so perfectly confiding that they would take a piece of bread or -biscuit out of his hand. Here, then, is an example of the instinct, -which urges them to flee from man, being overcome by the reason, which -tells them to approach him. - -Animals of burden may often be seen attending to prescribed work -without any supervision. Dray-horses, as is well known, sometimes take -pleasure in their work. I knew of a horse of the kind that was as much -interested, apparently, his work as his owner. He never had to be told -when to move, for all the while the dray was loading he was observant -of everything, and, knowing the capacity thereof, was ready when the -look from the master told him to proceed. Horses have sometimes shown a -knowledge of the amount of work they are supposed to perform in a day. -A case has been cited of a horse by Mr. Wood that was capable of doing -his work without a driver. He belonged to the owner of an American -mine. As soon as his cart was filled with ore, at a given signal he -went off to the spot where the ore was to be dumped, waited until the -cart was unloaded, and then returned for another load. So many loads -had to be carried daily, and, strange to relate, the animal knew when -his task was finished as well as any of the men. When the last load for -the day was deposited, he could be seen trotting off in the direction -of home, where he knew he would receive a kind reception from his -mistress. - -[Illustration: WONDERFUL EQUINE INTELLIGENCE. - -A Horse That Knew When His Day’s Work Was Done.] - -Enough has been said to show that animals have and do exercise powers -of reason. That they have the means of transmitting ideas to their -fellows is not to be questioned. Language is the means of transmission. -Not only are they able to interchange thoughts with each other, but -with man also when they are brought into contact with him. They must -possess a language of some kind, whereby they can understand each -other, can comprehend human language, and make themselves intelligible -to man. All these conditions are fulfilled in the lower animals, but -there is one distinction between the capability of understanding their -own language and that of man, and that is, that they are born with the -one and have to learn the other. Newly-hatched chickens, although they -have only entered the world an hour or so ago, understand perfectly -well their mother. They know what to do when she calls them to find -what food she has unearthed, and they know what to do when she warns -them of danger. Who has not heard them talk to her? But how different -are their tones under various circumstances. The little piping notes of -content when all is going on well can never be confounded with the cry -of alarm when they have lost their way or are otherwise frightened. - -Wasps, as everybody knows who has studied these insects, carry out one -of the first principles of military art. They always have the gate of -their fortress guarded by a sentinel. Should danger be imminent, the -alarm is given by the sentinel, and out rush the inhabitants to wreak -vengeance upon the offender. Out of a full-sized nest, consisting of -many hundred wasps, it is evident that the individual who is to act as -sentinel must be selected, and its task appointed. How the selection is -made, no one knows. But that such is done, there can be no question, -for the rest of the community acknowledge their sentinel, trust to it -for guarding the approaches of the nest, while they busy themselves -with the usual task of collecting food for the young and new material -for the nest. - -Nearly related to wasps are the ants. Some of their performances are -truly astonishing. They have armies commanded by officers, who issue -orders, insist on obedience, and will not permit, while on the march, -any of the privates to stray from the ranks. There are other ants -which till the ground, weed it, plant the particular grain on which -they feed, cut it when ripe, and store it in their subterranean -granaries. Arrant slaveholders are others, who make systematic raids -upon neighboring species, carry off their yet unhatched cocoons, and -rear them in their own nests to be their servants. Somewhat recent -discoveries show that there are ants which bury their dead. Two pairs -of bearers are chosen to carry the corpse, one pair relieving the other -when tired, while the main body, often several hundred in number, -follow behind. So much could be said about ants, so closely do their -performances resemble the customs of human civilization, that the -subject could never grow uninteresting, but we must, for the present, -forbear. All these various performances could not be possible were -there not some way by which communication, or interchange of ideas, -could be carried on among the individual members of the same community. -Sometimes one species of ant is capable of carrying on a conversation, -so to speak, with another. Bees, wasps and ants are the best linguists -of the insect race, their language being chiefly conducted by means of -their antennæ. - -Who has not often observed two dogs, members of the same household, -holding sweet converse with each other? Pug and Gyp were two animals -that belonged to the family where I spent a summer vacation. They -thought much of each other when romping together in the yard, or in -foraging the neighboring woods and fields for rabbits and ground-hogs. -Never would they start out on an expedition for game without having -previously laid their plans. It was interesting and amusing to watch -them. They would bring their heads into close contiguity, remaining -in this position for two or three minutes, when, by mutual consent, -they would separate, look each other in the eyes, and then start off -in different directions for the scene of their projected enterprise. -Times out of number I have observed such behavior and have always -discovered that they meant something of the kind. There were no audible -utterances, no visible gestures, yet there was an interchange of -ideas. Through the medium of the eye were the thoughts conveyed. It -was spirit speaking directly to spirit, conveying by a single glance of -the eye thoughts which whole volumes would fail to express. - -Each species of animal has its own dialect. Yet there is another -language, a sort of animal _lingua franca_, which is common to all. -A cry of warning, no matter from what bird or animal it emanates, is -understood by them all, as is well known to many a sportsman who has -lost his only chance of a shot by reason of an impertinent crow, jay or -magpie which has espied him, and has given its cry of alarm. There is -not a bird of garden or orchard, or a fowl of the barnyard or doorside, -that does not understand the peculiar cry of the rooster when a hawk is -seen careering overhead, or perched upon the summit of a near-by tree. -With one accord they flee to their coverts, and there remain until the -danger is past. - -No more quarrelsome and pugnacious species of bird exists than -the English sparrow. He appropriates every available locality for -nesting purposes, and our native species are driven to the necessity -of fighting for their rights, or of seeking quarters in the rural -districts which these birds do not infect. Thus it is that many a -useful robin, bluebird or martin is driven from our midst. Many have -witnessed encounters between these birds and the robins. The author -once saw a contest between a pair of sparrows and a pair of robins for -the possession of a certain tree that grew in his yard. Now the robin, -single-handed, is more than a match for a sparrow. In the engagement -referred to, the robins were getting the better of the sparrows, which -the latter were not slow in perceiving. Instantly the sparrows set up -the wild, ear-piercing harangue for which they are peculiarly noted, -when more than a score of friends from the immediate vicinity gathered -to their assistance. But the war-cry which they sounded not only -summoned help to their standard, but it was equally understood by all -the other birds of the neighborhood, who flocked to the defence of -their brethren against the alien. The battle waged warm and fiercely -for some minutes, when the sparrows were forced to seek safety in -retreat. - -Not only can crows and rooks assemble, hold council and agree to act on -the result of their deliberations, but other birds are known to do the -same things. Birds are able to communicate their thoughts to each other -by means of a language, but it is not likely that in their language, -or the language of animals in general, there are any principles of -construction such as are possessed by all human languages. But the -same effect may be produced by different means, and the reader will -see that in the above instance no human language, however perfect -its construction, could have served its purpose better than did the -inarticulate language of the sparrows. They told their friends that -their territory was usurped by an intruder too strong to be ejected -by them, and implored their assistance. But while it told them this, -it did still more, for it conveyed the report to their numerous foes, -who winged their way to the support of their opponents. In fact, -whenever animals of any kind form alliances and act simultaneously for -one common purpose, it is evident that language of some sort must be -employed. - -That beasts possess a language, which enables them to communicate -their ideas to each other, has been clearly shown. It is just as -apparent that they can act upon the ideas so conveyed. We have now to -see whether they can convey their ideas to man, and so bridge over -the gulf between the higher and the lower beings. Were there no means -of communicating ideas between man and animals, domestication, it is -true, would be impossible. Every one who has possessed and cared for -some favorite animal must have observed that they can do so. Their -own language becomes in many instances intelligible to man. Just as -a child, that is unable to pronounce words, can express its meaning -by intimation, so a dog can do the same by its different modes of -barking. There is the bark of joy or welcome, when the animal sees -its master, or anticipates a walk with him; the furious bark of anger, -if the dog suspects that anyone is likely to injure himself or his -master, and the bark of terror when the dog is suddenly frightened at -something which it cannot understand. Supposing, now, that its master -could not see the dog, but could only hear its bark, would he not -know perfectly well the ideas which were passing through the animal’s -mind? Most certainly he would. There is a difference between the mew -of distress and the ordinary conversation, the purr of pleasure, of a -cat. A pet canary always knows how to call its mistress, and when it -sees her will give a glad chirrup of recognition quite distinct from -its ordinary call. Bees and wasps have quite a different sound in their -wings when angry than when in the discharge of their ordinary work. Any -one conversant with their ways understands the expression of anger and -makes the best of his way off. - -All the foregoing are but examples of sound-language. The -gesture-language of animals, however, is wonderfully extensive and -expressive. A cat, could it say in plain words, “Please open the door -for me,” could not convey its ideas more intelligently than it does -by going to the door, uttering a plaintive mew to show that it wants -help, and then patting the door. Dogs, or, in fact, all animals that -are accustomed to live in the house, will act after a similar fashion. -There, then, we perceive that the lower animals can form connected -ideas, and can convey them to man, so that the same ideas are passing -at the same moment through the minds of man and beast, evidencing that -they possess the same faculties, though of different extent. - -[Illustration: PAPIER-MACHÉ PALACE OF THE HORNET. - -Sentinel Guarding the Entrance to the Palace.] - -Some few examples must suffice to show the power of gesture-language in -the lower animals. I once owned a dog, a variety of hound, which was -as companionable as any animal could possibly be. He was never happy -unless he was on the go. So fond was he of travel and sight-seeing, -that I gave him the name of Rover. My occupation calling me from home -every day of the week, except Saturday and Sunday, but giving me a few -hours of each day before the shadows began to settle round, Rover was -forced to spend his time during my absence as best he could. He was no -ordinary dog. Little he cared for the dogs of the neighborhood. His -was a superior nature, and rather than associate with his neighbors -when my companionship could not be had, he would perform his journeys -alone, sometimes being gone nearly the entire day. But he managed -to keep a pretty fair record of the time, for he was always on hand -to greet me on my return home. His joy at my coming knew no bounds. -He would rub up against my side, caper around me, assuming a hundred -different attitudes, leap up into my face, which he would caress with -his tongue. I shall never forget the barks of delight, nor the smile, -as I would call it, for it verily seemed a smile to me, which lit up -his intelligent face. Then he would slowly meander his way to the gate. -Reaching it, he would place his right front paw upon the latch, spring -it, and, taking hold of the top with his mouth, fling it wide open. He -was then a very happy fellow. That he appreciated the favor I was about -to show him, there could be no question, as he plainly showed it in his -look, gesture and speech. Sometimes it was not convenient for me to -take a walk with him, or I was not in the physical or mental condition -to do so. It was not necessary for me to tell him in so many words that -the pleasure would have to be foregone for the present, for his keen, -discerning mind could read it in my looks. I never liked to disappoint -him, for the grief which he manifested was piteous in the extreme. -He would prostrate himself to the ground, place his head between his -front paws, and look the very picture of inconsolable distress. The -low, sorrowful moan which he would emit, when the disappointment was -the keenest, was so heart-rending, that many a time I would reverse my -purpose and say, “Come, Rover, master will not deny so good a creature -the pleasure of his company for an hour or so in the woods.” Instantly -his whole expression would change, and there would be exhibited a joy -as intense as the grief which had depressed him to the earth. Rover -was no hypocrite. His sorrow was not assumed, but as real and poignant -a sorrow as ever possessed a human breast. I have known him to grieve -for hours, and even to refuse the daintiest food when he has been -disappointed. Were he dissembling, seeing that it availed him not, -he would not be likely to have kept it up so long, and to his sore -discomfort and detriment. Examples of animals making their language -intelligible to man could be multiplied _ad infinitum_, but we must -pass on to say something about their capability of understanding the -language of man. - -That many of the lower animals understand something of human language -is a familiar fact. All the domesticated animals, notably the dog and -the horse, can comprehend an order that is given to them, though, -perhaps, they may not be able in all instances to understand the -precise words which are used. There are many occasions, however, when -it is evident that the knowledge of human language does extend to the -signification of particular words. Parrots, as is well known, are well -acquainted with the meanings of the words which they speak. Examples -have been known to the writer of parrots that were able to speak in two -languages, and, when addressed, always replied in the language used by -their interlocutors, speaking English or Spanish, as the case might be. -“Go, bring up the cows,” was an order that was daily given to Lion, -a large black dog, with a shaggy head, that belonged to my maternal -grandfather, an old-time farmer who lived way back in the fifties. So -well did he understand the significance of these words, and the labor, -worry and responsibility which they implied, that he did not have to -be told a second time, nor have to have their import conveyed to him -by sign or by action of the farm lad whose business it was to see that -the animals were brought to the barn-yard at milking time. Obedient -to orders, he would trot to the pasture-ground, nearly a quarter-mile -distant, open the bars between the lane and the field with his mouth, -and then start on his business with a full sense of its requirements. -His coming was well known to the cattle. While the most of them would -take their way in a quiet, orderly manner to the lane, yet there were -some unruly ones among them who gave Lion a great deal of trouble, but -he always succeeded in overruling their contrary tendencies. When there -was a tumult in the hennery, accompanied by loud noises, the command, -“Go, see what the trouble is!” was performed to the very letter, and -the trouble, if any, was speedily announced by a series of loud, sharp, -quick barks, which soon brought some one or more members of the family -to the scene of disorder. If nothing unusual was happening, Lion would -return to the house in a slow, leisurely way, and by his looks convey, -as clearly as man could do it, the utter needlessness of the command. - -Not only is the dog capable of understanding many things that are said -to him, but is even capable of forestalling one’s wishes. Part of one -of the writer’s vacations was spent in a small country town not very -remote from Philadelphia. There was in the family with whom he boarded -a dog called Prince. He was a very great favorite, and was once noted -for his lively, vivacious disposition and jolly manners. But at the -time of my introduction to him, he seemed to be suffering from some -bodily affliction, which had not only taken away his appetite for food, -but the very _animus_ of his being. Upon inquiry I learned that the -master of the house, to whom Prince was so deeply attached, had died -the year before, and that the dog had taken his death so completely to -heart that he had lost all of his former vivacity. He refused all food, -often going for days without taking a single mouthful. Life seemed to -have lost for him all its charms. Sad and dejected he would lie upon -the porch-floor or ground, seemingly unconscious of everything and -everybody. That he was slowly dying seemed evident to all. But a change -from our first interview appeared to come over the animal. From some -cause or other, he had taken quite a fancy to me. He would greet me -with considerable friendliness when I would come down in the morning, -and always seemed glad to be in my presence. My first business, on -coming downstairs, was to go for the newspaper, which was always to be -found inside the yard, some thirty steps from the house. I would then -sit down upon the porch and read it, but Prince was always close-by, a -willing spectator. One morning, however, instead of going to the gate -for the paper as was my custom, I stood debating in my mind whether to -go or not, when, to my utmost surprise, the dog, after watching me for -a while, walked very soberly down to the gate, picked up the paper in -his mouth, and brought it to me, not laying it down at my feet, but -placing it in my hands. I thanked him for his kindness, gave him a few -gentle pats upon the head, and he walked away as pleased as a child -would have been who had received a few pennies for a similar service. -The dog had evidently read in my looks the debate that was going on in -my mind, and knowing that I always read the paper when I came down -from my room, anticipated my wishes by bringing it to me. - -[Illustration: UNSOLICITED AND UNLOOKED-FOR KINDNESS. - -How Prince Forestalled My Wishes by Bringing Me the Morning Newspaper.] - -There is in the two interesting stories just related a singular -aggregation of faculties which are held in man to belong to the -immortal, and not to the mortal part of his being. Reason, or the -deduction of a conclusion from premises, is strikingly exhibited. -Then there is the power of forming ideas and communicating them to -man, and the capability of understanding man’s language, and even of -anticipating the wishes of human friends. And lastly, there is the -intense love for the master, combined with the power of self-sacrifice, -which enabled Lion and Prince to act as they did, while instinct was -urging them to take their exercise in the open air, or in the enjoyment -of luxurious ease. - -No faculty of the mind gives greater trouble to materialists than -Memory. It is that which survives when every particle of the material -brain has been repeatedly changed. It is that which more or less deeply -receives impressions and retains them through a long series of years. -And even when they are apparently forgotten, hidden as it were behind -a temporary veil, a passing odor, a dimly-heard sound or a nodding -flower may rend the veil asunder in the twinkling of an eye, and scenes -long forgotten are reproduced before the memory as vividly as though -time had been annihilated. Nothing is omitted. There comes up to view -a minute and instantaneous insight into every detail, and for a moment -we break loose from our fleshy tabernacle, and see and hear with our -spiritual and not with our material eyes and ears. Man expects that -he shall retain his memory and carry it into the next world. He also -expects to recognize in the spiritual world those whom he has loved in -this temporal sphere. Memory, therefore, must be spiritual and eternal; -and wherever it can be found, there exists an immortal spirit. No -stronger evidence, apart from Revelation, exists of a future life of -man than memory. And if we apply this proof to ourselves, then, in pure -justice, we should apply it wherever memory is found. - -But some have claimed that memory is a mere emanation from the brain. -That an inferior brain is coupled with an inferior intellect, and that -if the brain be slightly or seriously injured, the powers of thought -will be weakened or utterly held in abeyance, are arguments that have -been made to prove that thought is the creation of the brain. The facts -in themselves are true, but the conclusion is false. The brain is but -the organ or instrument of the thought-power, and stands in the same -relation to it that a tool does to a carpenter. However good an artisan -a carpenter may be, it is but common-sense to say that he cannot turn -out good work with a blunt instrument, or any work at all with a broken -one. So it is with the brain. It is but the tool of the spirit, and, -if it be damaged in any way, the keenest intellect will not be able to -work with it. Memory, moreover, exists in creatures which are devoid of -brain. No real brain, but only a succession of nervous ganglia running -the entire length of the body, is found in insects, and indeed in many -of them the faculty of memory is very strongly developed. - -Then there is the moner, a mere speck of formless protoplasm, that has -not the slightest trace of a specialized nervous system, yet it has -the power of throwing out arms and of retracting them into the general -body-mass, of opening out mouths where a particle of food strikes -it, of digesting its food, and of circulating its fluid without the -necessity of canals. But how are these movements effected? Certainly a -nervous influence is the prime mover of all its actions. Nerve-matter, -mayhap, constitutes its entire body-mass, or it may be all brain as -well as all muscle. Though the lowest and simplest of all animal life, -yet it possesses an innate consciousness and intelligence. Memory is -not wanting as a faculty of the mind of this all-brain animal, which -I have thought fit to characterize it, as some actions of it already -described under the head of “Slime Animals” seem very clearly to -indicate. - -Some fifteen years ago I mentioned in an article, entitled “Insect -Pets,” a pair of flies, the common _Musca domestica_ of our houses, -which had been closely observed by Mr. Forestel, the gentleman who at -that time had charge of the distributing department of the Philadelphia -_Record_. This position necessitates nocturnal employment. While taking -his midnight lunch, Mr. Forestel’s attention was directed to a pair of -these insects that had located themselves upon his plate. Had it been -in the summer when flies were plentiful, the event would hardly have -been noticed; but being in the winter, a season notable for their great -scarcity, they could not but impress his mind with something out of -the ordinary. Night after night these self-invited and curious guests -presented themselves at the same place, and it was a long time before -he observed the regularity of their visits. At first he was disposed to -view the alighting of two flies upon his plate as a mere coincidence, -but he at length became so deeply interested in the affair, that he -resolved to watch their actions very closely. It was not long before he -became convinced that they always waited for the commencement of the -meal, when they would deliberately fly down for their regular lunch. -So closely did he watch them, that he was soon able to discriminate -between the two, and to discover beyond a doubt that it was not a -series of two flies, but always the same pair. As time progressed, Mr. -Forestel and the flies grew to be famous friends. They in time became -so friendly, that they would permit themselves to be handled. Although -at first they would only appear when Mr. Forestel was alone, yet they -soon became accustomed to strangers. On the nights when their friend -was not on duty, others have spread their lunches on the table used by -him, but the flies were not slow in making the discovery, and, instead -of alighting, would quickly hasten away without their accustomed meal. -Who can deny the possession of memory to these two flies? Had the -discovery of the food been an accidental occurrence the first time, -could it have been so the second and all the succeeding times? Then, -again, the flies always came at the right time, showing that they had -some idea of the passing moments. Even admitting that this latter -thought is out of the range of probability, there can be no doubt that -they were not observant creatures, else how would they know when to -come, or whether or not the man that sat at the table was the same that -had shown them so much kindness on their previous visits. That they did -know these things, there cannot be the slightest doubt. But how did -they know them? There is only one answer to the query. They knew them -through the exercise of memory, these creatures impressing on their -minds the appearance of the objects near the table, the form and color -of the table itself, the look, manner and dress of the man who sat by -it, and acting on the result of these impressions. Human beings act in -just the same way in traversing for the first time a locality through -which they will have to return. And yet, as has already been stated, -these insects have no true brains. - -Considerably removed from insects are the vermes, or worms. Man, in his -overweening opinion of self, would hardly credit the earth-worm with -the possession of any mental qualities; yet it has been shown that it -can reason, and can communicate after its fashion with its fellows. -It is now my intention to prove that it has the power of memory. Has -the reader ever seen an earth-worm trying to carry into its burrow a -pair of pine-needles joined at their bases? It knows just where to -seize the pair. This it determines by feeling, or moving its head along -the needles, the sense of touch being very acute in this portion of -its body. Hardly ever is a mistake made by seizing the free or apical -extremities. Once it has discovered where to act, this position is -fixed in memory, and the animal exercises the latter power in dealing -with objects of the kind in all subsequent operations. - -Almost any living being can by means of the faculty of memory be taught -by man. But were it absent, no teaching would be of the slightest -avail. In most cases where an animal is ferocious, I firmly believe -that fear, and not ill-temper, is the real cause of its conduct. Let -a little kindness be shown, and the animal will never forget it. -Such acts, repeatedly performed, assure it that your intentions are -well-meant, and it soon learns to recognize in you a friend. The -memory of your goodness will often be recollected after long years of -separation, and the most joyous feelings be manifested at the sight -of your presence upon returning home. Everyone who has had personal -experience of domesticated animals must have remarked the great -strength and endurance of their powers of memory. The dog, the cat, the -horse and the ass afford so many familiar anecdotes in point, that I -shall be obliged to pass them over and restrict my illustrations to a -few animals about which little has been said. - -For obstinacy of opinion no animal can excel the pig. He is a creature -whom few, on account of his uncleanly person and disgusting habits, -would care to caress. Yet there is no animal under man’s care that -enjoys such treatment better than he does. He will stand for hours -while you rub his head and back, the very impersonation of contentment, -never failing to express his thanks and appreciation by occasional -monosyllabic grunts. A friend of ours, living in Northern Indiana, -had a fine fellow, whom he had raised from infancy. When he was quite -young, he began to show him considerable attention, picking him up -in his arms, and fondling him in the most affectionate manner. The -choicest food was always reserved for him, and the cosiest bed of straw -provided for his nightly rest. In process of time the animal grew to -great size, but he never forgot these early attentions. He expected -them all the same. When denied what he deemed were his lawful rights, -he would set up an unearthly squealing, enough to split the ears of -the groundlings, and refuse to be comforted until his demands were -satisfied. Never was the master, when out of the house, safe from his -intrusions. He would besiege him in the presence of company, command -his attention, and cry in his own peculiar fashion if he thought -himself ignored. Many a rough-and-tumble game, which reminded me of -boys in my childhood days, would they have together, and it was really -amusing to see them. They enjoyed these tussles, which were always of -the most friendly character. - -Stupid as the life of a cow may seem to be, yet there has been known -to the writer some cows which were far from being dull and prosaic. -Our same Hoosier friend had such an animal, whom he called Daisy. She -was very docile and affectionate, and would come, even when grazing in -the most delightful pasture of clover, whenever her name happened to -be mentioned. Daisy was a pretty creature, and very exemplary in her -conduct. When her companions would break into a field of corn, where -they had no right to be, she would not follow their wicked example, -but remained where her master had placed her and the rest of the herd, -showing them, as it were, that she did not approve of such wilful -waywardness. No member of the bovine family of animals ever showed a -greater fondness for love than Daisy. The master could put his arms -around her neck, and lay his face against the side of her own. That she -approved of such familiarity was evident, for she would show that she -did by placing her lips against his in true lover-like fashion. But -there came a time when this attachment to the master became dissolved. -On account of the bad behavior of the herd in general, and to make it -a law-abiding community, it was resolved that each member should have -its horns sawn off close up to the skull. This, it was thought, would -improve the temper of the herd, and make it less troublesome to manage. -No fear was entertained, however, for Daisy, who was already as good as -she could be, but Daisy must undergo the same cruel punishment for the -sake of uniformity in this particular in the herd. It had, however, the -opposite effect upon Daisy from what it had upon the rest of the herd, -for it made her sullen and morose, and from that time she resented all -familiarity upon the part of the master. She seemed to view him as her -worst enemy. All attempts to settle her grievances were viewed in a -suspicious manner, and the matter of reconciliation had at length to be -abandoned. - -Beasts, there is no doubt, were intended to be the servants of man, and -there is nothing in his hands half so powerful in the accomplishment -of this end as thoughtful kindness. Inflexible decision, combined with -gentleness and sympathy, are irresistible weapons in his power, and no -animal exists, I firmly believe, which cannot be subdued if the right -man undertakes the task. By this mixture of firmness and kindness -many a wild beast of a horse has been in a half-hour rendered gentle -and subservient by Rarey, obeying the least sign of his conqueror, -and permitting himself to be freely handled without displaying the -slightest resentment. - -That there is something more in memory than a mere production of a -material brain must seem probable from the examples given. In several -cases the animals were without any brains at all, but in others, where -a brain did exist, its material particles must have been repeatedly -changed, while the ideas impressed upon the memory still remained in -full force. - -Perhaps no attribute of the mind is better fitted to follow that which -has just been treated than Generosity. But whether we accept it in -the sense of liberality or magnanimity, it is certainly a very lofty -quality, and one which infinitely ennobles the character of those who -possess it. Taken in the former sense, it is an attribute of Deity, -who gives us freely all that we have, and so sets us an example of -generosity to our fellow-creatures. Now, if it be admitted that the -possession of generosity ennobles man’s character, while the lack of -that quality debases it, then the inference is undeniable that when we -find a beast possessing generosity, and a man devoid of it, the beast -is in that particular the superior of the man. And that generosity, -being a divine attribute, belongs to the spirit and not to the body, -no believer in Christianity is likely to deny. Therefore, wherever we -find this characteristic developed, we must admit the presence of an -immortal spirit. - -That the lower animals do possess generosity in the sense of Liberality -will now be proved from circumstances that have occurred within my -own observation. My first proof is a very interesting one, and is -drawn from the life of a dog that was the companion of my school-boy -days. Sport was the name of the animal. He was not a greedy, selfish -creature, but a generous, noble fellow. Many an act of self-sacrifice -had he been known to perform, and he was never happier than when he -was doing some good to his fellows. It was not unlike him, when he -would meet a poor, strange and hungry animal of his own kind by the -roadway, to bring him to his master’s house, and at the meal-hour -divide with the unfortunate his noon-day allowance. Between him and -a certain cat, called Blackey, which was also a member of the same -household, there existed a very strong friendship. Any injury done the -cat was most summarily resented by Sport. He would share his meals -with her, and never seemed satisfied unless she would consent to take -the choicest bits. But the generosity was not all on his side, for the -cat certainly rivalled him in the exercise of this noble trait, which -all acknowledge to be one of the noblest characteristics of the human -mind. When Blackey was sick, and unable to be around, much of the time -of the dog would be spent in her presence. He would caress her with -his paw, smooth her silken, jet-black fur with his tongue, and seek by -every means in his power to raise her drooping spirits and alleviate -her miseries. No animal, not even man himself, could show more real -sympathy for a fellow in distress than Sport did for Blackey. - -No bird, it would seem, could be expected to manifest so little of -generosity as the sparrow. As a rule, sparrows are remarkable for -their ability to take care of themselves. Theirs is a nature which -is based upon self. They are an avaricious species, and little they -reck for their neighbors. As the eagle is known to treat the osprey, -and the skua-gull its weaker brethren, so the sparrow has been known -to act towards its neighbors. But exceptions exist to every rule, and -we are pleased to record an honorable one in the case of this most -detested species. Close by a maple-tree, which a pair of sparrows had -appropriated and made the support for their home, dwelt a sturdy robin -with his mate. Their home, a mud-lined domicile, was placed in the -crotch of a small tree. Three children appeared in process of time to -bless the happy couple. Everything went along smoothly and pleasantly -with the robins, the sparrows being too much engrossed with their -own affairs to think of giving them any trouble. But a tragedy soon -happened which, sad to relate, foreboded evil and consequent death to -the nest-full of young robins. Father and mother had, while searching -for food for the little ones, been cruelly killed by a conscienceless -sportsman. But the fledglings, which seemed doomed to die the death of -starvation, were spared by some good genius who put it into the heart -of the sparrows to pass that way, and thus was their sad and pitiable -condition brought to the light of day. Their heart-rending appeals for -food, combined with their orphaned situation, struck a sympathetic -chord in the breast of the sparrows, and day after day these birds, -whose chief concern naturally seems for self, might be seen acting the -part of the good Samaritan towards these unfortunate of God’s children. - -But let us now pass to that form of generosity which has been called -Magnanimity. Few qualities in human nature are more noble than the -capability of foregoing revenge when the offender is powerless to -resist. This unwillingness to resent an injury, even though the -power to do so is present in the individual, is what is implied by -magnanimity. When we find those beings whom we designate brutes rising -to a moral grandeur which few men can attain, disdaining to avail -themselves of the opportunity of vengeance, and even rewarding evil -with good, it does seem an utter absurdity to affirm that they are -not acting under the inspiration of Him who gave us the celestial -maxim, “Love your enemies.” By their actions they show themselves -worthy of everlasting life, and what they deserve they will assuredly -receive at the hands of Him who is Justice and Truth. Consciously, -or unconsciously, the feeling of magnanimity is acknowledged among -mankind. Even in the lowest stratum of society it is recognized. As -with man, so with the lower animals; and there are many instances on -record where the strong have disdained, no matter what the offence had -been, to make reprisals upon the weak. - -Bus and Jack are two dogs whose acquaintance I made three years ago. -The one is a beagle, and the other a pug. No one that has seen these -animals in their frolics and plays, would ever suspect that any -differences could arise between them. But when such disagreements do -occur, and there is hardly a day that does not witness a dozen or more, -it is always Bus that is the instigator. The most trifling act upon -the part of Jack will be made the cause of offence, and an excuse for -the precipitation of a quarrel. In a rage, Bus will fly into the face -of Jack, but the latter will coolly shake him off and walk leisurely -away. No provocation will induce him to resent an insult or an injury, -especially where Pug or a dog smaller than himself is concerned. It is -not that he is afraid of Pug, for, when once aroused in the presence -of equal or even superior strength, he becomes a terror. He is too -magnanimous to avenge a wrong done him by one less powerful than -himself. The look which he would give Pug, after one of these attacks -had been made, was one of pure contempt, and said, as plainly as words -could have said, “Your assaults are mere child’s play, and are unworthy -of recognition by one who is so much your superior in feats of valor.” -That Pug felt the meaning and force of the look was apparent, for he -would always slink away abashed to some corner, where he would remain -for an hour or two without showing himself. Over and over again has -Jack allowed little dogs to bite him without troubling himself to -retaliate; but if a big dog ventured upon an insult, that dog had to -run or pay the penalty for his temerity. No dog could give a more -disdainful look than Jack, and that look always gave him an easy and -uninterrupted passage wherever he chose to go. - -Other anecdotes of a similar nature might be given to show that -animals can act magnanimously towards each other. That they are as -capable of displaying the magnanimity of their nature towards men -whom they hated has frequently been observed. The manager of a mill -in Fifeshire, Scotland, was, according to Rev. J. G. Wood, very much -disliked by the watch-dog, probably from some harsh treatment which the -animal had received from his hands. One very dark night the manager -had strayed from his path and fell over the dog. Seeing the mistake -he had made, and finding that he could not recover himself, he gave -himself up as lost, for the dog was a very powerful animal. But the -dog was magnanimous enough to spare a helpless enemy, and to lay aside -old grievances. Instead of seizing the prostrate man by the throat, -as a brute would be expected to do, the dog only licked his face and -exhibited his sympathy. Ever afterward the man and the dog were fast -friends. - -Just as there are animals capable of exercising great self-denial by -giving to others what belongs to themselves, and even manifesting a -generosity which would put human nature to the blush, so there are -animals which can cheat like accomplished swindlers. As all Cheatery -requires the use of the intellect, it is therefore evident that the -most intellectual animals will be the most accomplished cheats. Dogs -have shown themselves to be considerable adepts in cheating, and -this we would naturally expect. Some curious and rather ludicrous -instances of cheatery upon the part of the dog are noticed. We once -knew a pair of dogs, a spaniel and a pug, that were inmates of the -same house. They were very jealous of each other so far as the master -was concerned, and neither could endure to see the other caressed. It -happened that the spaniel was taken quite ill, and was in consequence -very much cared for and petted. His companion, seeing the attention and -sympathy that were bestowed upon him, pretended to be sick herself, -and, going to a corner of the room, lay down upon the floor and looked -the very picture of misery and distress. A cat and a dog, that for many -years were members of the writer’s family, had taken a fancy to the -same spot, a soft cushion at the head of a sofa. While they were the -best of friends, yet a difference of opinion would occasionally arise, -and a slight loss of temper would be the result. When the cat would be -in the possession of the cushion, the dog would torment her in every -possible way with the view of causing her to abandon the pet spot. He -would pull at the cushion, seeking to drag it to the floor, or, seizing -the occupant by the ear or tail, endeavor to dislodge her by force. -But the cat, seemingly unmindful of what was going on, and the very -impersonation of patience all the while, would refuse to give up so -comfortable a couch. At last the dog hit upon a _ruse_ which he knew -would bring the cat down from the sofa. He rushed out into the kitchen, -and began acting as though in pursuit of a mouse. He and puss had often -engaged in such diverting business. This was more than the latter could -stand. She was down from her cozy bed in an instant, and was soon by -the side of the dog. But as soon as puss, all ablaze with excitement, -had her head in a corner and was straining her eyes to get a glimpse of -the supposed mouse, the dog ran to the sofa at full speed, jumped on -the cushion, curled himself round, and was happy. Poor puss, perceiving -that the dog had left her, was not slow to discern that she had been -imposed upon by the latter, and that it was only a trick that had been -played upon her by her shrewd companion, that he might get possession -of the soft spot upon the sofa. She, however, bore it good-naturedly -and decorously, and was ever afterward on the alert for these little -tricks of her canine friend. - -Birds can be as capable of cheating, not only each other, but other -animals. A crow, belonging to John Smedley, a resident of Lima, Pa., -was an adept in the business. When dinner was preparing, he would fly -around the corner of the house, set up a terrific cawing as though -in great distress, and when the mistress of the house, with whom he -was a great favorite, would come out on a tour of investigation, -the rascally bird would elude her and manage to steal round to the -table in the opposite direction and seize what food suited him the -best, which he would carry to the top of the house, where he would -eat it at his leisure. No persuasions would induce him to come down, -for he knew that such action was a breach of the peace, and he was -fearful of the punishment, that of confinement to a cage, which would -follow. When, however, he felt assured that his mistress had forgiven -the wrong-doing, he would fly down to the porch, and do his utmost -to convince her that he was a well-meaning bird, and that he was -thoroughly ashamed of his actions. But there was one member of the -family that utterly detested the bird. It was the dog Rover. Many a -trick had the bird practised upon the latter, especially at meal time. -Poor Rover was not allowed to eat in peace. When he would be wholly -absorbed in his dinner, the crow would approach him in the rear, -give him a severe twirl of the tail, and then in a twinkling fly to -one side, looking the very picture of innocence. But ere the dog had -recovered his self-possession and was ready to resume his feeding -again, the bird had captured the daintiest morsel, and was off to the -tree-top. Discomfited and outwitted, the dog would rush to the base of -the tree, bark his growls of anger and defiance, while the crow would -look quizzically down from above, and chuckle with delight. - -Many of my readers may, perhaps, remember the story of the two dogs -that used to hunt the hare in concert, the one starting the hare and -driving it toward the spot where his accomplice lay concealed. I recall -an instance where a somewhat similar arrangement was made, only the -two contracting parties, instead of being two dogs, were a dog and a -hawk, the latter making use of his wings in driving the prey out of the -copse into the open ground. Innumerous examples of such alliances are -known, and in all of them there is manifest the curious fact that two -animals can arrange a mode of cheating a third. One of the principal -stratagems used in war, that is the ambuscade, whereby the enemy is -induced to believe that danger is imminent in one direction, when it -really lies in the opposite and unsuspecting direction, is employed. -No one would admit that a general who contrived to draw the enemy into -an ambuscade acted by instinct. The act would be construed as proof of -the possession of reasoning powers surpassing those of the adversary. -And if this be the case with the man, why not with the dog, or with the -raven or hawk, when the deception is carried out by precisely the same -line of reasoning? - -Beasts possess, in common with man, the sense of Humor. This is -developed in many ways. Generally it assumes the phase of teasing or -annoying others, and thus deriving pleasure or amusement from their -discomfort. Sometimes, both with man and beast, it takes the form of -bodily torture, the struggles of the victim being highly amusing to -the torturer. Civilized man has now learned to regard the infliction -of pain upon a fellow as anything but an amusement, and would rather -suffer the agony than inflict it upon another. But with the savage -it is otherwise, for there is no entertainment so fascinating as -the infliction of bodily pain upon a human being. Among our Indian -tribes, torture is a solemn usage of war, which every warrior expects -for himself if captured, and which he is certain to inflict upon any -prisoner whom he may happen to take. The tortures which he inflicts -are absolutely fiendish, and yet a whole tribe will assemble around -the stake, and gloat upon the agonies which are being borne by a -fellow-creature. Similarly the African savage inflicts the most -excruciating sufferings upon the man or woman accused of witchcraft, -employing means too horrible to be mentioned. But in all these cases -the cruelty seems to be in a great measure owing to obtuseness of -perception. Yet the savage who binds his victim to a stake, and -perforates the sensitive parts of his body with burning pine-splinters, -behaves very much like a child who amuses itself by catching flies, -pulling off their wings and legs, and watching their unavailing efforts -to escape. - -Many years ago cockchafers were publicly sold in Paris for children -to torture to death. The amusement consisted in running a hooked pin -through the insect’s tail, fastening a thread thereto, and watching the -poor creature spin in the air. After the poor beetle was too enfeebled -to expand its wings, it was slowly dismembered, the child being greatly -amused at its endeavors to crawl, as leg after leg was pulled from the -body. A similar custom, though in a more cruel form, prevails in Italy, -the creatures which are tortured by way of sport being more capable of -feeling pain than are insects. Birds are employed in this country for -the amusement of children. A string is tied to the leg of the bird, and -the unfortunate creature, after its powers of flight are exhausted, -is generally plucked alive and dismembered. The idea of cruelty does -not seem to enter at all in these practices, but they are done from -the sheer incapacity of understanding that a bird or a beast can be -a fellow-creature. Italians are notorious for their cruel treatment -of animals, and if remonstrated with become very much astonished and -reply, “Non è Cristiano,” that is to say, “It is not a Christian.” -Englishmen have little to boast of on this score. Bear-baiting was -abolished by the Puritans, not because it gave pain to the bear, but -because it gave pleasure to the spectators. Even at the present day, -both in England and in this country, there is a latent hankering after -similar scenes, and dog-fighting, rat-killing and cock-fighting, even -though they are now contrary to law, are still practised in secret. -Similarly the sense of humor is developed in the lower animals by -causing pain or annoyance to some other creature, and the animal acts -in precisely the same manner as a savage or a child. - -Sparrows, as might be expected from their character, will gratify their -feelings of aversion by banding together for the purpose of mobbing -some creature to which they have an objection. In Hardwicke’s _Science -Gossip_ for December, 1872, there is a short account of a number of -sparrows mobbing a cat. Evidently the cat had intended making a meal -on one of the birds, but was greatly mistaken, for the sparrows dashed -upon him so fiercely, that he soon turned tail and ran into the house, -one of the sparrows actually pursuing him into the house. The poor cat -ran up-stairs, and was found crouching in terror under one of the beds. -This happened in London, where the sparrows are less numerous now than -they used to be. - -No bird of my knowledge possesses a larger amount of humor than the -crow. I have known him to feign an attack upon a distant part of a -field of newly-sprouted corn, which was being guarded by a farmer with -his gun. When the latter would be drawn to that part of the field where -the attack was to be made, the sagacious bird would manage to outwit -him, slip around to the other side, drop down into the field and obtain -a few tender sprouts before the farmer hardly knew what was going on. -But he was always up and away at the opportune moment, and, perched -upon a fence-rail, beyond the range of the gun, would enjoy one of his -rollicking cawing laughs at the farmer’s expense. Crows that are tame -have the sense of humor more keenly developed than their wild brethren -of the fields and the woods. I once knew a tame crow that took great -pleasure in annoying a dog that lived in the same family. Carlo, as the -dog was called, was never so contented as when allowed to sleep the -hours of the morning away, after a night’s carousal, in a quiet, sunny -spot in the backyard. When the dog had become fast wrapped in the arms -of the god of slumber, the crow would steal to his side, give his ear -a sharp pull, and when the dog would awake and look around the crow -would be busy in gleaning, the most unconcerned creature in the whole -yard. Again and again would she annoy the poor animal, and always with -the same evident sense of delight, which I could always read in the -mischievous twinkle that lurked in her eyes, till the dog, bewildered -and unable to account for such mysterious actions, would silently skulk -away to other parts, where he hoped to be free from all intrusion. Even -the mistress of the house was not exempt from her annoyance. She would -carry off everything she could lay hold of, and always hid them away in -one place, that is, in a large crevice on the top of the house between -the peak of the roof and the chimney. One day the mistress’s spectacles -disappeared. Search was instituted everywhere, but without effect. None -knew better than the bird what the trouble was. While the search was -going on, she busied herself in looking around, and seemed as desirous -of finding the missing glasses as any member of the household. The look -which the bird gave showed that she enjoyed the situation of affairs -immensely, and considered it a fine joke that she had played upon her -mistress. After a few days the lost spectacles were restored to their -accustomed place, but no one ever positively knew how they came thither. - -Domestic birds, as a rule, are remarkable for the generosity which the -master-bird shows to his inferiors. He will scratch the ground, unearth -some food, and then, instead of eating it himself, will call some of -his favorites, and give them the delicacy for which he labored. But I -have met with a few cases where the cock scratched as usual, called his -wives, and, when they had gathered round him, ate the morsel himself. -It was but a practical joke that he had perpetrated upon them, and -that they felt it as such their looks only too strongly testified. -There was a relish of delight in it for the cock, for the cackle, which -he immediately gave, assured me of this fact as much as the laugh of a -man could have done who had played such a joke upon one of his fellows. - -Parrots are much given to practical joking, after the ways of mankind. -A parrot, belonging to an aunt, had a bad habit of whistling for a dog, -and then enjoying the animal’s bewilderment and discomfiture. She would -call the cat, as her mistress was accustomed to do, and when puss would -come, expecting some dainty article of food, she would call out in her -severest tone, “Be off, you hussy!” and the cat would make all possible -speed for a place of security, greatly to the amusement of the parrot -from her perch in the cage. There have been known parrots that would -play practical jokes upon human beings, but dogs and cats seem to be -the principal victims of the parrot’s sense of humor. - -Animals not only show their playfulness in such tricks as have been -mentioned, but many of them are able to appreciate and take part in -the games played by children. When I was a boy I knew a dog, a species -of greyhound, which was an accomplished player at the well-known game -called tag, or touch. Quite as much enthusiasm was displayed by the -animal as by any of the human players. He would dart away from the -boy who happened to be “touch” with an anxiety that almost appeared -terror. It was an impossibility to touch the clever canine player; but -he was a generous creature, with a strong sense of justice, and so, -when he thought that his turn ought to come, he would stand still and -wait quietly to be touched. His manner of touching his play-fellows was -always by grasping the end of their trousers with his teeth, and as it -was impossible for the boy to stop when so seized in full course, the -dog was often jerked along the ground for some little distance. - -Hide-and-seek is a game which is often learned and enjoyed by many -animals. I have often been an interested spectator of the play in -which two dogs were the participants. It was as exciting as such a -diversion could possibly be between two children. For an hour at a time -I have watched the fun, and the players seemed not to abate the least -jot or tittle from their ardor and enthusiasm. They were apparently -as fresh then as at the beginning. In due time the game ceased as if -by mutual consent, but the animals did not seek some cool, quiet spot -for comfort and rest, but started off to the woods for some further -diversion, from which their voices were soon heard, telling that they -were in pursuit of a rabbit or the ignoble ground-hog. - -We have far from exhausted the list of examples at hand to show that -the lower animals possess a sense of humor. But what use, it may be -asked, can the capacity of humor subserve in the next world? Much the -same, I presume, that it subserves in this. There are some in this -world in whom the sense of humor is absolutely wanting. Estimable as -they may be in character, they are just solemn prigs, and I should be -very sorry to resemble them in the world, whither, it is hoped, all -life tendeth. - -Pride, Jealousy, Anger, Revenge and Tyranny, while not very pleasing -characteristics, belong, as such, to the immaterial, and not to the -material, part of man. That the lower animals possess these qualities -will be seen from what follows. Hence the inference to be drawn from -that fact must be quite obvious. - -Taking these characteristics in order, Pride, or Self-esteem, is -developed as fully in many animals as in the proudest of the human -race. Most conspicuously is this shown in animals which herd together. -There is always one leader at the head, who will not permit any -movement to be made without his order, and who resents the least -interference with his authority. This is particularly the case with the -deer, the horse and the ox. Even when these animals are domesticated, -and the habits of their feral life have materially changed, the feeling -of pride exists to the fullest extent. - -Whoever has carefully watched and studied the inhabitants of a -farm-yard cannot fail to have observed that the cows have their -laws of precedence and etiquette as clearly defined as those of any -European Court. Every cow knows her own place and keeps it. She will -never condescend to take a lower, nor would she be allowed to assume -a higher. A new-comer in a farm-yard has about as much chance of -approaching the rack at feeding-time as a new boy at school has of -getting near the fire on a cold winter day. But as the young calf -increases in growth, and is nearing maturity, she is allowed to mingle -with her companions on tolerably equal terms. Should, however, a -younger animal than herself be admitted, it is amusing to see with what -gratification she bullies the new-comer, and how much higher she ranks -in her own estimation when she finds she is no longer the junior. - -But should the fates be propitious, and she should arrive at the -dignity of being senior cow, she never fails to assert that dignity -on every occasion. When the cattle are taken out of the yard to their -pasture in the morning, and when they are returned to it in the -evening, she will not allow any except herself to take the lead. An -instance is recorded where the man in charge of a herd of cows would -not permit the “ganger,” as the head cow is often called, to go out -first. The result was that she refused to go out at all. Therefore, to -get her to go out of the yard, the man had to drive all the other cows -back again, so that she might take her proper place at the head of the -herd. - -Few people know much about the real disposition of the mule. Judging -from popular ideas respecting the animal, one would think that it had -no pride in its composition. It is in reality a very proud animal, -and fond of good society. One of his most striking characteristics is -his aversion to the ass, and the pride which he takes in his relation -to the horse. An ass would be hardly safe in a drove of mules, for he -would, in all probability, be kicked and lamed by his proud relatives; -whereas a horse, on the contrary, takes a distinguished position, the -mules not only crowding around him and following his movements, but -exhibiting a violent jealousy, each striving to get the nearest to -their distinguished relative. - -[Illustration: EXHIBITION OF GRANDEUR. - -Male Peacock in Presence of Some Barn-Yard Fowls.] - -We have seen the pride of rank and love of precedence in cows, and the -pride of ancestry in mules. There is, however, a pride that takes the -form of sensitiveness to ridicule. Nothing is so galling to a proud man -as to find himself the object of ridicule. The same trait of character -is to be found in many animals, and especially in those that have been -domesticated, for it is in these that we have the most opportunities -for observation. All high-bred dogs are exceedingly sensitive to -ridicule. We knew of a cat that was quite conscious if spoken of in a -disparaging manner, and testified his disapprobation by arching his -tail, holding himself very stiff indeed, and marching slowly out of the -room. - -There is, however, another form of pride which is often to be seen -among the lower animals, but more especially among birds notable for -gaudy or abundant plumage. This is the pride which manifests itself -in personal appearance. Vanity is the name which is currently applied -to this form of pride. Those who have observed a peacock in all the -glory of his starry train will recognize the intense pride he feels at -his own splendor. This display of his magnificent train is not for the -purpose of attracting the homage of his plainly-attired mates solely, -but seems to be intended to evoke the admiration of human beings as -well. Not even the homage of birds, whom he regards his inferiors, is -to be despised. - -We have seen him, with his train fully spread, displaying his grandeur -around a dozen or more barn-yard fowls, and apparently as satisfied -with the effect he produced, as he stalked majestically among them, -as if he had been surrounded by his own kith and kin. Then there is -the turkey. No movements are more grotesque than his. See him as he -struts about in his nuptial plumage, and yet no bird, notwithstanding -the ludicrousness of his behavior, surveys himself with greater -complacency. The whidah-bird, or widow-bird, as it is often called, -exhibits this trait of character in its highest development. He is -wonderfully proud of his beautiful tail, and, as long as he wears it, -loses no opportunity of displaying it to every person who visits his -cage. But when the moulting season has arrived, and he has taken on the -plain, tailless attire of his mate, a change as great has come over -his manner, and, instead of exhibiting himself in all his pride and -glory, he mopes listlessly and stupidly about, and seemingly ashamed of -his mean condition. In all these instances the character of pride in -personal appearance is as strongly developed as it is possible for it -to be in any human being. - -That peculiar uneasiness, which arises from the fear that a rival will -dispossess us of the affection of one whom we love, or the suspicion -that he has already done so, is termed jealousy. There are two forms -of this passion, one connected with the love of some other being, -and the other dependent on the love of self. But it is the former, -whose definition begins the present paragraph, with which we shall -exclusively deal. It is evident from the meaning of jealousy, as given -above, that the power of reasoning is implied, and that any creature -by which it is manifested must be able to deduce a conclusion from -premises. No matter if the conclusion drawn by the animal be wrong, -the process, however incorrect it may be, is, it cannot be denied, -still one of reasoning. All who have possessed pet animals must be -familiar with the exceeding jealousy displayed by most of them. Most -strongly is this feeling manifested when an animal has been the only -pet and another is introduced into the house. Where there are two or -more dogs in the same family, one is often amused at the boundless -jealousy displayed toward each other while engaged in the service of -the master, although at other times they were on the most excellent -terms. Bus is the name of a favorite dog belonging to a friend. No more -affectionate dog ever lived. Beagle was his companion. When they were -by themselves, life was a round of frolics and rambles. No matter how -rough and exciting their plays were, they never got cross, but endured -everything with patience and forgiveness of spirit. Beagle was a clever -animal, and very fond of the chase. Many a ground-hog would he dislodge -from its burrow and fight to the death, while Bus would look on with -wonder and admiration. But let the slightest attention be shown by the -master to Beagle, and Bus’s jealousy and anger became unbounded. He -would fly at his friend in the most infuriated manner, rending him with -tooth and claw, while Beagle would quietly slip around the corner of -the house to get out of the reach of his companion’s temper. Beagle, -being a large and powerful dog, had in him the ability to give Bus a -very sound whipping, but he was too noble and magnanimous a creature -to take advantage of one younger and smaller than himself. He would -always allow Bus to have his own way, knowing that the passion which -was lacerating the bosom of his young companion and playmate would -soon spend itself, and the latter, ashamed and abashed, would be soon -seeking forgiveness and reconciliation. - -Even in such rarely tamed animals as the common mouse the feeling of -jealousy has been known to be so intense as to lead to murder. A young -lady, one of Rev. J. G. Wood’s correspondents, had succeeded in taming -a common brown mouse so completely that it would eat out of her hand -and suffer itself to be taken off the floor. She had also a tame white -mouse in a cage. One morning when she went to feed the white mouse, -as was her usual custom, she found it lying dead on the bottom of -the cage, and beside it was its murderer, the brown mouse. The cage -being opened, the latter made its escape, as though fearful of the -consequences that might ensue, but how it had managed to gain admission -was always a mystery. - -Instances are on record where the jealousy of a rival has been -restrained for long years through fear, and has ultimately broken out -when the cause of the fear has been removed. A case of the kind came -under our notice some few years ago. There were two cocks, belonging to -different breeds, whom fate had placed as denizens of the same family. -One was a magnificent dunghill cock, and the other a Malay, a cowardly -caitiff, that was kept in fear and subjection by the former. In the -course of events the dunghill cock suddenly died. His rival, coming -by chance on his dead body, and perceiving that the time had come to -wreak out the mixture of hatred and revenge that had lain smouldering -in his bosom for years, instantly sprang upon it, kicked, spurred and -trampled upon the lifeless bird, and, standing upon the corpse, flapped -his wings in triumph, as it were, and crowed himself hoarse with the -most disgusting energy. He immediately took possession of the harem, -but he was far from being the noble, generous and unselfish creature -that his predecessor had been. Again, comparing man with beast, it is -at once apparent that the bird in this instance acted exactly as a -savage does when his enemy has fallen, for the savage not only exults -over the dead body of an enemy, especially if the latter has been very -formidable in life, but also mutilates in futile and silly revenge the -form which he feared when alive. - -Tyranny, or the oppression of the weak by the strong, is another of -the many traits of character common to man and the lower animals. -But whether or not that strength belongs to the body or the mind, it -is tyranny all the same. Taken in its most obvious form, it not only -manifests itself in many of the animals in the oppression of the weak -by the strong, but also in the killing and the eating of the same, even -though they be of the same species. Human cannibals act in just the -same manner, eating their enemies after they have killed them. There is -hardly an animal in which the milder forms of tyranny may not be found. -Insects, especially, manifest it in a light manner when they drive -away their fellows from some morsel of food which they desire to keep -to themselves. Among gregarious animals, the herd or flock is always -under the command of an individual who has fought his way to the front, -and who will rule with imperious sway until he has become old and in -turn has been supplanted by a younger and more vigorous rival. In the -poultry-yards the same form of tyranny is manifest, one cock invariably -assuming the leadership, no matter how many may be the number of birds. - -There is a curious analogy between these birds and human beings, -especially those of the East, whether at the present day or in more -ancient times. Many petty chieftains are found in Eastern countries, -but there is always to be met with one among them who is more mighty -than the rest, and who holds his place by superior force, either -of intellect or military power. Challenged by one of the inferior -chiefs and victorious, he retains his post, but if vanquished, his -conqueror takes his place, his property and his wives. But curious -to relate, with men as with birds, the members of the harem seem to -trouble themselves very little, if any, about the change of master. -The Scriptures are full of allusions to the invariable custom that -the conqueror takes the possession of the harem belonging to the -vanquished. David did so with regard to the women of Saul’s household, -and when Nabal died, who had defied the authority of David, so the -latter, as a matter of course, took possession of his wife, together -with the rest of his property. And when Absalom rebelled against David, -he publicly took possession of his father’s harem, which was a sign -that he had assumed the kingdom. - -Where a number of creatures are confined in the same place, a very -curious sort of tyranny is sometimes manifested. Mandarin ducks, -according to Mr. Bennett, when confined to an aviary, show a very -querulous disposition at feeding-time. The males of one and the same -kind of a different species endeavor to grasp all the nourishment -for themselves, unmindful of the wants of others, and will not even -permit their companions to perform their ablutions without molestation, -although they may themselves have completed what they required. Often -the mandarin ducks have been observed to excite the drakes to assail -other males or females of the same species, and other kinds of birds -in the aviary, against whom the ladies, from some cause or other, have -taken a dislike. One pair of these ducks are always to be noticed that -exercise a tyranny over the others, not allowing them to wash, eat or -drink, unless at their pleasure and approval. - -But, of all tyrants, none can be compared to a spoiled dog, who is -even worse than a spoiled child. Obedience is a stranger to his -nature. Does his master want him to go out for a walk, and he prefers -to stay at home, he stays at home, and his master is compelled to go -out without him. But if he wants to go for a walk, he makes his master -go with him, and even to take the direction he prefers. Duchie is the -name of a Skye terrier whose history is given in a work on the latter -breed of dogs by Dr. J. Brown. So completely had this little animal -domineered over her mistress, that the latter could not even choose her -own dinner, but was obliged to have whatever the dog preferred. It is -related that for a half of a winter’s night she was kept out of bed, -because Duchie had got into the middle and refused to move. Certainly, -no better example of tyranny could be adduced. - -That so-called brutes possess, in common with ourselves, a Conscience, -that is, a sense of Moral Responsibility, and a capability of -distinguishing between right and wrong, may seem a very strange -assertion to be made, especially to those who have never studied the -ways of the lower animals. Animals which are placed under the rule of -man, and those, like the dog, which belong to his household and are -made his companions more particularly, would naturally be expected to -show the strongest development of the principle. Conscience, in their -dealings with man, constitutes their religion, and they often exercise -it in a way which would put many a human being to the blush. This -feeling it is that induces the dog to make himself the guardian of his -master’s property, and often to defend that property at the risk of his -life. However hungry may be the dog that is placed in charge of his -master’s dinner, nothing would, as a rule, tempt him to touch a morsel -of the food, for he would rather die of starvation than eat the food -which belongs to his master. Often have we seen field-laborers at work -at one end of a large field, while their coats and their dinner were at -the other end, guarded by a dog. Not the least uneasiness did they seem -to manifest about the safety of their property, for well they knew -that the faithful animal would never allow any one to touch either the -clothes or the provisions. - -There could hardly be a stronger instance of moral responsibility than -the one which I shall now relate, which is substantially the same as -appears in Wood’s “Man and Beasts Here and Hereafter.” Living in an -unprotected part of Scotland was a poor woman, who unexpectedly became -possessed of a large sum of money. She would have taken it to the bank, -could she have left the house, but lack of bodily health prevented -her from so doing. At last she asked the advice of a butcher of her -acquaintance, telling him that she was afraid to live in the house -with so much money about her. “Never fear,” said the butcher, “I will -leave my dog with you, and I’ll warrant you that no one will dare to -enter your house.” Towards the close of the day the dog was brought, -and chained up close to the place where the money was deposited. That -very night a robber made his way into the house and was proceeding -to carry off the money, when he was seized by the dog, who held him -a prisoner until assistance arrived. The thief turned out to be the -butcher himself, who thought he had made sure of the money, but he had -not considered that his dog was a better moralist than himself, for who -would, rather than betray a defenceless woman, take her part against -his own master. Kindly pardoned by the woman, the intending robber made -his way home, and it is to be hoped that for the future he learned a -lesson from his own dog and amended the evil of his ways. - -Not only does the dog guard the property which is intrusted to its -charge, but frequently goes a little further and assumes a charge on -its own account. When the writer was a boy living in the country, where -much of the spring and summer of the year was spent in working upon a -farm, he became on very excellent terms with a little bull-terrier, -named Tip, that belonged to a certain farmer by whom he was employed. -Upon my first introduction to Tip, I felt a sort of aversion towards -him. This grew out of the mysterious actions of the animal. He was -always around when I was busy at work and seemed to be eying me in a -suspicious sort of manner, which at times made me feel very unpleasant. -After the lapse of a few days I discovered that I was not so closely -watched as before, and that I was treated by him as he was accustomed -to treat the other members of the family. Upon inquiry I learned -that he always acted in this way toward people whom he did not know -intimately, and that, after a time, he had confidence in their honesty -and left them alone. While in many instances Tip was entirely wrong -in his surmises, yet cases are recalled where the dog was right and -acted in a manner that would have been creditable to a human being. -One of the men employed upon the place, presuming upon the friendship -of the dog, sought to carry away under cover of darkness something -belonging to the farmer, but he was immediately beset by the animal, -who was an eye-witness of the proceeding, and compelled to desist -from the intended theft. From that time the man was under the closest -surveillance by the dog. Unable to effect a reconciliation, and chafing -under the look of suspicion with which he was always greeted, the man -soon took his departure, much to the delight and satisfaction of the -faithful canine, and was never afterwards seen. - -Quite a common form of conscience among the lower animals is that -which may be defined as a recognition of having done wrong, and -acknowledgment that punishment is deserved. Animals have in their way -very pronounced ideas as to right and wrong. When they have committed -an act which they know will offend their master, they display as keen -a conscience as any human being self-convicted of sin could exhibit. -In many instances, the offence in not merely acknowledged, but the -creature remains miserable until forgiveness has been granted. This -condition of mind, if manifested by man, is called Penitence, and, -assuredly, it cannot be known by any other name when manifested by -animals that are lower down in the scale of life. My little dog -Frisky, about whom mention has already been made, affords a very fine -illustration of this phase of conscience. Whenever he did wrong, the -severest punishment that could be meted out to him was to ignore his -presence and decline his offered paw. For hours the poor fellow would -moan and cry, and even refuse food, when he thought I was angry with -him. But a word or a look of forgiveness was sufficient to change his -sadness into joy. A shaking of hands, so to speak, would then follow, -and master and dog would be good friends again. No love could be more -intense than his, and this was especially shown when I would return -from a short absence, when the little fellow would almost overwhelm me -by his affectionate caresses. - -No loftier characteristic adorns humanity than Love. But how far it -is shared by the lower animals it is now our purpose to inquire. That -there are many phases of development cannot be doubted. Sympathy, or -that capacity of feeling for the sufferings of another, is the first -phase. Many, and perhaps all, living creatures possess the capacity -of sympathy. In the majority of cases it is not restricted to their -own species, but is extended to those beings which appear to have -very little in common with each other. Ordinarily, however, it is -exhibited between animals of the same species, and it is often seen in -the dog, as, for example, where a dog, having been cured of an injury, -has been observed to take a fellow-sufferer to his benefactor. Such -sympathy, it need hardly be remarked, could not be carried out unless -the animals possessed a language adequately defined to enable them -to transmit ideas from one to the other. Cats are often kind to each -other, sympathizing under difficulties, and helping their friends who -require assistance. A cat, belonging to a friend, has been known, when -oppressed with the cares of a family, to employ a half-grown kitten -to take charge of the young while she went for a ramble. Between the -cat and the dog an enmity exists that is hereditary, and yet, when in -good hands, they are sure to become very loving friends, and even to -show considerable sympathy towards each other. Such an exhibition of -good feeling was observed by the writer a few years ago. The dog, a -large black Newfoundland, had contracted a warm and devoted friendship -for a gray cat that was an inmate of the same family. When the cat was -assailed by one of her kind, or by a strange dog, the Newfoundland -would pick her up in his mouth and carry her to the house out of reach -of danger, the cat maintaining all the while the most perfect serenity -of composure, knowing that she was in the care of one who meant her no -ill. When the same cat would become sick, the Newfoundland would lie -down by her side, caress her with his tongue, and show in every way -possible that he was sorry that she was sick. - -Many examples are recorded of birds feeling sympathy with the lost or -deserted young of other species, and that have taken upon themselves -the task of feeding the starving children. A pair of robins had -constructed a nest near to the writer’s home in the country, where in -due season a family of four children was raised. Disaster soon came to -the little ones, for both parents were slain by some wicked boys of the -neighborhood. There dwelt in the same locality a pair of bluebirds, -but between the two families there had never been apparent the least -interchange of friendship. Each family kept to itself, and attended to -its own business. But when the cry of the young robins in their piteous -demands for food rent the air, the bluebirds came over to their home -to discover what the trouble was. They were not slow to perceive the -sad state of things. Their sympathies were at once aroused, and their -energies soon bent in the direction of relieving the sufferings of the -little orphaned robins. For the next two weeks they had all they could -do in providing meat for their own and the robins’ young. - -[Illustration: FOUR ORPHANED ROBINS. - -Kind-Hearted Bluebirds Assuming the Role of Parents.] - -While capable of showing sympathy for near as well as distant kin, -the lower animals have also the capacity to sympathize with human -beings in distress. Cats occasionally manifest a sympathy for suffering -humanity. As for sympathy displayed by dogs, there is no need to cite -examples. No human being, I am safe in saying, was ever free from -troubles of some kind, and I am equally sure that no one who had a -companionable dog felt that he was without sympathy. Full well does -the dog know when his master is suffering pain or sorrow, and his nose -pushed into his master’s hand, or laid affectionately upon his knee, -is a sign of sympathy worth possessing, even though it exists only in -the heart of a dog. From that moment there has been established a bond -between the soul of the master and the dog, and certainly no one can -believe that the bond can ever be severed by the death of the material -body, whether of the man or the animal. - -That Friendship, which is another branch of love, exists among animals, -is a well-known fact. But it is among the domesticated animals that it -most frequently exhibits itself. Horses, as every one knows, which have -been accustomed to draw the same carriage are usually sure to be great -friends, and if one be exchanged the other becomes quite miserable for -want of his companion and seems unable to throw any spirit into his -work. Dogs, too, are very apt to strike up friendships with each other. -Among animals it is not confined to one species, but is occasionally -found to exhibit itself in those which might be supposed to be -peculiarly incongruous in their nature. That cows and sheep live, as a -rule, on good terms with each other in the same pasture is a familiar -experience, though sometimes the former are a little prone to domineer -over the latter. But a very strong affection sometimes exists between -animals so different, and when once they have accustomed themselves to -each other’s society neither can be happy without the other. The goat -and the horse frequently become friends, and a peculiarly vicious horse -has been known to allow a goat to take undue liberties with him without -the least manifestation of resentment. In many places the stable-cat -is quite an institution. Its usual place of repose is upon the back of -the horse, and the latter has been known to grow very uneasy if left -for any length of time without the companionship of his little friend. -A very singular instance of friendship occurred at the rural home of a -near relative. He had a fine mastiff which had taken a fancy to a brood -of young chickens, and which acted as their protector. They were not -at all unwilling to accept him in this capacity, as they followed him -about just as though he had been their mother. Quite an interesting -sight it was to watch the dog and the chickens as they would take -their _siesta_. The dog used to lie on his side, and the chickens would -nestle all about him, though one chicken in particular would invariably -scramble upon the dog’s head, and another just over his eye, but both -parties appeared equally satisfied with this remarkable arrangement. - -Already have we referred to the intense yearning which is felt by many -of the lower animals for human society. This yearning is indeed but the -aspiration of the lower spirit developed by contact with the higher in -domesticated animals or those which are in perpetual contact with man. -This feeling is a matter of no great surprise. But that it should be -exhibited in feral animals and birds, and even in insects, is a fact -well worth considering, as it furnishes a clew to some of the many -problems of life which are as yet unsolved. That power of attraction -exercised by the spirit of man upon that of the lower creation is well -exemplified in many wild animals, who are known to forsake the society -of their own kind for the companionship of the being whom they feel to -be higher than themselves. - -Perhaps one of the wariest of wild animals is the squirrel. He is -horribly afraid of human beings, and if a man, woman or child come to -the windward of him, the little animal is sure to scamper off at his -fleetest pace, scuttle up the nearest tree, and conceal himself behind -some branch. Yet, wild as he may be, he is peculiarly susceptible to -the influence of the human spirit, and for the sake of human society -will utterly abandon that of his own kind. I once knew a pet gray -squirrel by the name of Charley. He had been taken from the nest when -very young. His home for awhile was one of those whirl-about cages. -Charley did not like his cage, but preferred to be outside in the -unrestrained enjoyment of the dictates of his own free will. So it was -difficult to keep him behind the bars. When awake he loved to follow -his own devices; but when tired he usually slept on a soft cushion on -the sofa, or found his way into some bed-room where he would nestle -under a pillow. Nothing was more to his satisfaction and pleasure than -a share of the bed of his mistress, but he was always a troublesome -nest-fellow. Charley had, as must be obvious, perfect freedom. He was -allowed to go as he pleased. There was no coercion in his case. Had he -wished to escape, there was nothing to prevent, and nothing bound him -to his mistress but an “ever-lengthening chain” of love and aspirations -which none but a human being could satisfy. The sparrow, one of the -most independent and self-reliant of birds, has been known to abandon -its kind for the sake of human beings. Wood cites a case of a bird of -this species that had been rescued from some boys who had been robbing -the nest. The bird was brought home, but was never confined in a cage, -but was permitted to fly freely about the house. As there was a cat -about the house, she had to be closely watched lest she might do the -bird some injury. On Sundays, when the family went to church and no one -remained to keep an eye on the cat, the sparrow was turned into the -garden, where it flew about until the family’s return. The opening of -the dining-room window by its mistress, and the display of her ungloved -hands, was the signal for its entry. But if the mistress stood by the -window with her gloves on, then the bird showed not the slightest -disposition to enter. - -Such is the intensity of the love which the lower animals sometimes -entertain toward man that they have been known to grieve themselves to -death on account of his loss. A dog by the name of Prince, who lived -in the family where the writer spent a few weeks of a summer, is a -case in point. He had a good master, and one to whom he was strongly -attached. The year before the master sickened and died, and Prince -felt the loss so keenly that he refused to take any food, and even to -notice the surviving members of the family. He was pitiable to behold. -Life had lost all attractions to him, and he showed that he was slowly -but surely grieving his life away. Some few weeks after the writer’s -departure, the poor animal breathed his last, and his spirit, it is -to be hoped, went to join that of his master, while his ashes became -mingled with the dust of the earth as his master’s had been. - -What a wonderful power do some animals have of returning to their -beloved master, even though they have been conveyed to a considerable -distance. This is especially true of the dog. So many examples of such -feats are on record that I refrain from mentioning them, but will -give but a single example. Rover, a pet greyhound that belonged to -the writer, had become such an annoyance to the neighborhood where he -lived, that the master determined to provide him a home in the country -some fifty miles away. He was conveyed to his destination in a covered -wagon, and after his new master had reached home, the poor animal was -placed in a stable for several days, where he was daily visited and -fed, and every effort possible made to attach him to the place and -family. On the fourth day of his arrival he was given his freedom. With -a long, loud wail he saluted the neighborhood, and the next moment was -off at full speed across the country, all efforts to stop him being -unavailing. In less than a week from his leaving he was at home again, -hungry and jaded out with fatigue and travel, but not too tired nor too -hungry to express the great joy he felt for the old master. How he ever -accomplished the journey, and what vicissitudes and difficulties he -encountered on the way, no one will ever know. After this I had not the -heart to send him away again, but put up with his capers and tricks as -best I could, and when complaints were preferred against him endeavored -to excuse them as a parent is prone to do in the case of a spoiled and -wayward child. But a day arrived when Rover to me was no more. What -had become of him I was never able to discover, but I always blamed a -near-by neighbor, a man who had neither love nor charity in his soul, -for his sudden disappearance. - -That cats are selfish animals, attaching themselves to localities and -not to individuals, I do not believe. This idea has, perhaps, some -ground of truth, for the nature of a cat is not so easy to understand -as that of a dog. But when a cat is not understood, it is very probable -that she cares less for the inhabitants of the house than for the house -itself. Frequent instances are known by the writer where cats have -been in the habit of moving about with their owners, and have been as -much unconcerned as dogs would have been. True they have, like women, -a curious and prying disposition. I have seen them in new and strange -quarters go sniffing about every room of a house, and at last settle -down in some cozy, comfortable place, well satisfied with their tour -of investigation. Where the house fell short of their expectations, if -they have been cats that have received due consideration from their -mistresses or masters, they have tried to live down their objections -and to learn to be happy and contented with their lot. Only cats that -have not been much thought of are inclined to show their disapproval -to changes of residence which they deemed unsuitable by refusing to -stay with their masters. Blackie, a favorite cat of ours, never seemed -to care where her home was, so long as her friends were there to pet, -caress and pamper her with choice dainties. - -All animals, so far as can be learned, have not only a capacity for the -society of man, but an absolute yearning for it. This feeling may be in -abeyance, from not having received any development at the hands of man, -but it nevertheless exists, and only awaits to be educed by some one -capable of appreciating the character of the animal. Tigers, as is well -known, are not generally considered the friends of mankind, and yet the -Indian fakirs will travel over the country with tame tigers, which they -simply lead about with a slight string, and which will permit small -children to caress them with their hands without evincing the least -disposition to hurt them. - -When we survey the examples of love displayed by animals towards human -beings, which we have just detailed, and recall the hundreds that we -know and have read about, is it possible to believe that such love -can perish? We apprehend not. Unselfish love as this, which survives -ingratitude and ill-treatment, belongs to the spirit and not to the -body, and all beings capable of feeling such love must possess immortal -spirits. All may not have an opportunity of manifesting it, but all -possess the capacity and would, were the conditions favorable, manifest -it openly. - -Few animals, as may easily be imagined, manifest Conjugal Love. Most -species have no particular mates, but merely meet by chance, and -seemingly never trouble themselves about each other again. No real -conjugal love, therefore, can exist, and it is rather curious that in -such animals a durable friendship is frequently formed between two -individuals of the same sex. But when we come to polygamous animals, -such as the stag among mammals and the domestic poultry among birds, we -meet with a decided advance towards conjugal love, although as in the -case of polygamous man, that love must necessarily be of an inferior -character. There is seen, at all events, a sense of appropriation on -either side. Take the example of the barn-yard fowl, as has already -been mentioned in that part of the chapter which deals with jealousy, -where it is shown that the proprietor of the harem resents any attempt -on the part of another male to infringe on his privileges. - -This brings us to the consideration of birds, where the many are mated -for the nesting-season, but subsequently do not seem to care more -for each other than they do for their broods of children. If one of -the pair be killed at the nesting-time the survivor, after a brief -lamentation, consoles itself in a few hours or days with another -partner, for there really appears to be a supply of spare partners of -both sexes always at hand. And now we come to those creatures which are -mated for life, and often we find among them a conjugal love as strong -and as sincere as among monogamous mankind. Prominent among them are -the eagle, the raven and the dove. And while we praise the turtle-dove -for its conjugal fidelity, and credit it with the possession of all -that is sweet, and good, and gentle, how remarkable is it that we -forget to accredit with the same virtue the eagle and the raven, that -are the types of all that is violent, and dark, and cunning. There are -many examples in existence of the conjugal love among such birds, but -they are so well known that reference to them is unnecessary. The case -of the mandarin duck, already narrated, affords a strong instance of -conjugal love wherein the lady was faithful and the husband avenged -himself on the destruction of his domestic peace. - -[Illustration: MATED FOR LIFE. - -Conjugal Fidelity Shown by a Pair of Doves.] - -So numerous as are the instances of love shown by parents among the -lower animals towards their offspring, yet it is a very singular fact -that few, if any, trustworthy accounts of Filial Love, or the love -of children toward their parents, are to be found. But we must look -to man if we would understand the lower animals. Even human nature -must attain a high state of development before filial love can find -any place in the affections. In savages it barely exists at all, and -certainly does not survive into mature years. It is the glory of the -North American Indian boy, at as early an age as possible, to despise -his mother and defy his father. And the women are just as bad as the -men. Rejoicing in the pride of youth and strength, they utterly despise -the elder and feeble women, even though they be their own mothers, and -will tear from their hands the food they are about to eat, on the plea -that old women are of no use, and that the food would be much better -employed in giving nourishment to the young and strong. The Fijians -have not the least scruple in burying a father alive when he becomes -infirm, and assist in strangling a mother that she may keep him company -in the land of spirits. Both the Bosjesmen of South Africa and the -Australian seem to have not the least idea that any duty is owing to a -parent from a child, nor have they much notion of duty from a parent -toward the child. If the father be angry with any one for any reason, -he has a way of relieving his feelings by driving his spear through the -body of his wife or child, whichever one of the two happens to be the -nearer. Even the mother treats her child with less consideration than a -cow does her calf, and leaves the little creature to shift for itself -at an age when the children of civilized parents are hardly thought fit -to be left alone for a few minutes. This being the case with parental -love, it may be readily imagined that filial affection can have not the -slightest chance for development, and it is very much to be questioned -whether in the savage it can really be said to exist at all in the -sense understood by enlightened peoples. Therefore, as in the lower -human races, we find that filial love either is very trifling, or is -absolutely non-existent, need we wonder that in the lower animals such -few, if any, indications of its presence should be found? - -Now, as to the subject of Parental Love, and the various ways in which -it manifests itself. There are many writers who claim that parental -love in the lower animals is not identical with that of man. They -affirm that it is only a blind instinct, and, in order to mark more -strongly the distinction between man and beast, call the parental -love of the latter by the name of storgë. Speaking for myself, I must -declare that I am unable to perceive any distinction between the two, -save that in civilized man the parental love is better regulated than -among the lower animals. But, as has been seen, it is not regulated at -all among the uncivilized races, and, in truth, many of the beasts are -far better parents than most savages. Nor can I understand why the word -storgë should be applied to parental love among the lower animals and -not to the same feeling in man. Among Greek writers the word, together -with the verb from which it is derived, is applied to the love between -human parents and children. It is so applied by Plato, and in the -same sense by Sophocles and others. One argument adduced by those who -deny the identity of the feeling in both cases is that parental love -endures throughout life in man, while it expires with the adolescence -of the young in the lower animals. This is doubtless true, as a rule, -with civilized man, but in the case of the savage, as has previously -been shown, it does not last longer than that of a bird, a cat or a -dog, taking into consideration the relative duration of life. And the -reason is identical in both cases. Were this love to exist through life -in the savage, the beast or the bird, the race would become extinct, -for neither race is able to support its children longer than their -time of helplessness. The beast and the bird cannot, and the savage -will not, provide for the future. It is therefore evident that if the -young had to depend upon their parents for subsistence, they would soon -perish from lack of food. Exceptions there are to this general rule, -and always, as far as can be determined, in the case of domesticated -animals whose means of subsistence are already insured. - -Several of such cases have come to my notice. I shall instance but -one. A friend of mine has two terriers, a mother and a daughter. The -strongest bond of love and fellowship unites them. They always sit -close together, and the mother playfully pinches her daughter all over. -Should they by chance become separated, even for a very short time, -the daughter comes up wagging her tail, and then licks her mother’s -nose and mouth. When hunting together, they always act in concert, -each one taking a hole, and one keeping watch while the other scrapes -away the earth. The meaning of each other’s whine or bark is perfectly -understood, and no two persons could understand their own language -better than do these dogs theirs, nor be more comprehensible to each -other. - -Self-abnegation is perhaps one of the most beautiful characteristics -which parental love can give. This is particularly shown when the young -are in danger. A human mother in charge of her child will defy a danger -before which she would shrink if alone, and in its defence would dare -deeds of which most strong men would be incapable, for during the time -her selfhood is extinguished, and her being is sunk into that of her -child. Such abnegation becomes a true mother, for if she would not -consent to do and dare for the sake of her offspring, she would degrade -herself below the beasts and the birds, who hesitate not in performing -that duty to their children, though _savants_ do declare that they -possess only storgë, whatever they may mean by it, and not parental -love. - -[Illustration: EVIDENCE OF CONJUGAL AFFECTION. - -Male Humming-Bird Feeding His Partner, and Ready to Act in Her Defence.] - -Everyone who has paid even a passing attention to the habits of birds -must have noticed the vigilance a pair of catbirds exercise over their -nest when containing young birds. Neither parent, when the other is -absent, relaxes this vigilance, for they consider no labor, no care, no -watchfulness, too great or too exacting where their offspring are to be -benefited. Let an enemy approach, even if it be man himself, and they -are beside themselves with anger and resentment, flying into the very -face of the audacious intruder, as though they would pluck his eyes -out as a just punishment for his presumption and temerity. I have seen -the nest of a catbird attacked by a black snake, and crushed within -the folds of the hideous serpent the father-bird, but the disaster -did not cause the mother-bird to desist from the attack, for, utterly -oblivious of all else but her offspring and the snake, she fought on -until the latter was forced to glide away into the bushes to escape -her infuriated assaults. But no species of bird is more courageous in -defence of its nest than the little ruby-throated humming-bird. It is -really dangerous to visit the nest when with eggs or young. I would as -soon attempt to assail the dome-shaped nest of our common hornet as -that of this humming-bird. It is as much as one can do to protect his -eyes from the lightning-like attacks of these birds, so swiftly and so -unerringly do they direct their blows at these points. - -So great is the affection and solicitude of the red-eyed vireo for her -young, that she will scarcely leave the nest when the hand is stretched -out a few inches over the mouth of the structure. And then when she -does leave, it is not in a hurried, precipitate manner, but with a -quiet, deliberate movement that excites one’s admiration and makes -one vow never to abuse such simple, childlike confidence. I have even -placed my hand upon the sitting-bird without disturbing the current of -her brooding thoughts, or the peaceful serenity of her soul. A rough -dash at the nest tends to frighten her away _instanter_, but when the -hand is reached out to it slowly and silently the bird seems to act as -though it had nothing to fear, and remains calm and self-possessed. - -Who is not familiar with the proverbial skill of the Carolina dove in -feigning lameness when her nest is being approached? Without a cry, and -with scarcely a rustle of her feathers, she slips out of her nest upon -the ground, and by a series of manœuvres, as if desperately wounded, -grovels along on her belly in the dust till she has led her enemy a -long journey from the site of the nest, when she will take to wing and -fly away into a coppice or a clump of brushwood. - -That birds should manifest a love for the young which they hatch has -always seemed a strange problem to me. I can see how that, in the -case of a mammal, the mother should feel a love for the creature who -is absolutely a part of herself--whose very life-blood is drawn from -her veins. But this is not necessarily the case with birds. If, as -often happens with poultry, the eggs of several hens are placed under -one bird for hatching, the hen that hatches them knows no difference -between the chickens that come from her own eggs and those which -proceed from eggs laid by others. Even where the eggs belong to birds -of different species, as to the common Muscovy-duck for example, the -hen displays as much affection for the young ducklings, despite the -disparity of instinct and habit, as she does had they proceeded from -her own eggs. May it not be that parental love has different channels -of transmission, and that in such a case as this the emanation from -the sitting-hen may be the vehicle of parental love toward the young -which are to be hatched? Certain it is that a sitting-hen, as many -of us have observed, is altogether a changed being, both in attitude -and expression. She is entirely absorbed in the eggs when she is -incubating, and, though she may not have the intellect to distinguish -a mere lump of chalk from one of her own eggs, yet love is altogether -independent of intellect, and may exist in all its vigor, and yet may -be wasted on an unworthy object. - -Fishes, as is generally known, are not particularly emotional beings, -and are not likely to entertain a lasting love for anything. Indeed, in -some instances, parental love would be absolutely useless, as in the -case of the cod-fish, which could be hardly expected to entertain a -special love for each of the countless thousands of young it produces -every year. The life of the mother would be an unenviable one, if -her lot were to look after her young as soon as they are hatched, -especially when the varied foes that beset her eggs as soon as they -are produced, are considered. Just as there are fishes that possess -conjugal love, so there are fishes that possess parental love, and -prominent among these are the sticklebacks. But in the case of these -fishes the most curious part is that parental love is shown by the -father, and not by the mother, the latter having nothing to do but -to lay the eggs, and leaving to the former the exclusive labor of -providing for the young. - -[Illustration: Copyright 1900 by A. R. DUGMORE. - -WOOD-THRUSH SETTING.] - -Enough of instances of true parental love among the lower animals -could be given to fill this entire book, but a sufficient number have -been adduced to show that the feeling is the same in man as in them, -although, of course, the mode of manifesting it is different. We have -shown the fallacy of the theory that parental love is life-enduring in -man and very brief among the animals, and have seen that, in proportion -to the duration of life, it is quite as brief among the savages as -among the animals. And, again, we have seen where it has been lost and -then restored, and also where it was never lost; where in animals, as -in man, it has caused complete abnegation of self, the parents living -for their children, and not for themselves, and where it has given -strength to the weak and courage to the timid. Even the very fishes -have been shown to be amenable to the same influences as man, and -could we have carried our illustrations still lower down the scale we -would have found the same influences existing among much humbler forms -of animal existences. In conclusion, there is no resisting the fact -that parental love, one of the highest and holiest feelings of which a -loving and immortal soul can be capable, is shared equally by man and -beast, according to their respective capacities. - - - - -LIFE PROGRESSIVE. - - -No one can doubt that the earth’s crust, so far as it has been -deciphered by man, presents us with a record, imperfect though it be, -of the past. Whether, however, the known and admitted imperfections -of its records, geological and palæontological, are sufficiently -trustworthy to account satisfactorily for the lack of direct evidence -recognizable in some modern hypotheses, may be a matter of individual -opinion, but there can be little doubt that they are sufficiently -extensive to throw the balance of evidence decisively in favor of -some theory of continuity, as opposed to any theory of intermittent -and occasional action, which some writers have strenuously and -intelligently advocated. No marks of mighty and general convulsions of -nature exist, as the seeming breaks which divide the grand series of -stratified rocks into numerous isolated formations would indicate. They -are simply indications of the imperfection of our knowledge. Science -will never, in all probability, point to a complete series of deposits, -or to a complete succession of life, which shall link one geological -period to another. But that such deposits and such an unbroken -succession must have existed at one time we may well feel sure, and -stand ready to believe that nowhere in the long series of fossiliferous -rocks has there been a total break, but that there has inevitably been -a complete continuity of life, as well as a more or less complete -continuity of sedimentation from the Laurentian period to the present -day. One generation, speaking figuratively, hands on the lamp of -life to the next, and each system of rocks is the direct offspring -of its predecessor in time. Though it is apparent that there has not -been continuity in any given area, still the geological chain could -not have been snapped at one point and taken up again at a totally -different one. Hence we arrive at the conviction that in geology, as in -other sciences, continuity is the fundamental law, and that the lines -of demarcation between the great formations are but gaps in our own -knowledge. - -Through the study of fossils, as is well known, geologists have been -led to the all-important generalization that the vast series of -fossiliferous or sedimentary rocks may be separated into a number of -definite groups or formations, each of which being characterized by -its own organic remains, but not properly and strictly, it must be -understood, by the occurrence therein of any one particular fossil. -However, a formation may contain some particular fossil or fossils -not occurring outside of that formation, thus enabling an observer -to identify a given group with tolerable certainty; or, as very -often happens, some particular stratum or subgroup of a series, may -contain peculiar fossils, whereby its existence may be determined with -considerable readiness in divers localities. Each great formation, let -it be said, is properly characterized by the association of certain -fossils, the predominance of certain families or orders, or by an -assemblage of fossil remains that represent the life of the period -during which the formation was deposited. - -Fossils, then, not only enable us to determine the age of the deposits -in which they are found, but they also further enable us to arrive at -some very important conclusions respecting the manner in which the -fossiliferous bed was deposited, and, consequently, to the condition -of the particular region occupied by the bed at the period of its -formation. Beds that contain the remains of animals, such as now -inhabit rivers, we know to be fluviatile in their origin, and that -at one time they must have either constituted actual river-beds, or -been deposited by the overflowing of ancient streams. But if the beds -contain the remains of mollusks, minute crustaceans or fish, such as -are found to-day in lakes, then we conclude that they are lacustrine, -and were deposited beneath the waters of former lakes. And, lastly, -if the remains of animals such as now people the oceans are to be -met with in the beds, then we know that they are marine in origin, -and that they are fragments of an old sea-bottom. On the whole, the -conditions under which a bed was deposited, whether in a shallow sea, -in the immediate vicinity of a coast-line, or in deep water, can -often be determined with considerable accuracy from the nature of the -relics of the organisms which they contain. But we have thus far been -dealing with the remains of aquatic animals. When, however, we consider -the remains of aerial and terrestrial animals, or of plants, the -determination of the conditions of deposition is not made out with such -an absolute certainty. Remains of land-animals would, of course, occur -in sub-aerial deposits, that is, in beds, like blown sand, accumulated -upon the land, but the most of such remains of such animals are found -in deposits which have been laid down in water, and hence their present -position is due to the fact that their former owners were either -drowned in rivers or lakes, or borne out to sea by water-channels. -Animals possessed of the power of flight might also similarly find -their way into aqueous deposits, but, when it is remembered that many -birds and mammals habitually spent a great part of their time in the -water, it is not to be wondered at that they should present themselves -as fossils in sedimentary rocks. Even plants, such as have undoubtedly -grown upon land, do not prove that the bed in which they are found was -formed on land, for many of their remains are extraneous to the bed -in which they now occur, having reached their present site by falling -into lakes or rivers, or by being carried out to sea by floods or -gales of winds. Still, there are many cases which obviously show that -plants have grown on the very spot where we now find them. The great -coal-fields of the Carboniferous Age, it is now generally conceded, are -the result of the growth _in situ_ of the plants which compose coal, as -well as that they grew on vast marshy or partially submerged tracts of -level alluvial land. - -While fossils enable us in many cases to arrive at important -conclusions as to the climate of the period in which they lived, yet it -is only in the case of marine fossils, which constitute the majority -of such remains, that we acquire such knowledge, but it is mostly the -temperature of the sea which can thus be determined. However, let -it be remembered that, owing to the existence of heated currents, -the marine climate of a designated area does not necessarily imply a -correspondingly warm climate in the adjoining land, for land-climates -can only be determined by the relics of land-animals or land-plants, -and these are comparatively rare as fossils. But all conclusions on -this head are really based upon the existing distribution of vegetable -and animal life upon the globe, and are therefore liable to be vitiated -by the considerations that no certainty exists that the habits and -requirements of an extinct animal were exactly similar to those of its -nearest living relative; that far back in time groups of organisms, so -unlike anything we know at the present day, are met with, which render -all conjectures of climate based upon their supposed habits more or -less uncertain and unsafe; that in the case of marine animals we are -as yet very far from knowing the precise limits of distribution of -many species within our present seas as to render conclusions drawn -from living forms in relation to extinct species unsatisfactory and, -probably, incorrect; and, finally, that the distribution of animals -to-day, is certainly dependent on other conditions than climate alone, -the causes limiting the range of given animals being assuredly such as -belong to the existing order of things, and are different from what -they were in former times, not necessarily because the climate has -changed, but because of the alteration of other conditions that are -essential to the life of the species or conducive to its extension. But -notwithstanding the difficulties in the way, we are able in many cases -to deduce completely trustworthy conclusions concerning the climate -of a given geological period by an examination of its fossil remains. -In Eocene times, or at the beginning of the Tertiary Period, the -climate of what is now Western Europe was of a tropical or sub-tropical -character, the Eocene beds being found to contain the remains of -cowries and volutes, such shells as now inhabit tropical seas, together -with the fruits of palms and remains of other tropical plants. And -further, it has been shown that in Miocene times, or about the middle -of the same epoch, the central parts of Europe were peopled with a -luxuriant flora resembling that of the warmer parts of the United -States, and that Greenland, now buried for the most part beneath a vast -ice-shroud, was warm enough to support a large number of trees, shrubs -and other plants that are at present denizens of the temperate regions -of the globe. - -And lastly, from the study of fossils, geologists first learned to -comprehend a fact, that is, that the crust of the earth is liable to -local elevations and subsidences, which may be regarded as of cardinal -importance in all modern geological theories and speculations. Long -after the remains of shells and those of other marine animals were -first observed in the solid rocks constituting the dry land, and at -great elevations above the sea-level, attempts were made to explain -this unintelligible phenomenon upon the hypothesis that these remains -or fossils were mere _lusus naturæ_, due to some “plastic virtue latent -in the earth.” But the common-sense of science soon rejected this idea, -and it was universally agreed that these bodies were really the relics -of animals that once lived in the sea. When once this was admitted, -further steps in the right way of thinking became comparatively easy, -and at the present day no geological doctrine stands on a surer -foundation than that which teaches that our existing continents and -islands, fixed and immovable as they appear, have been repeatedly sunk -beneath the ocean and just as repeatedly been lifted above its waters. - -Not only have fossils an important bearing upon geology and -physiography as has been seen, but they have relations, most -complicated and weighty in character, with the science of biology, or -the study of living beings. No adequate understanding of zoölogy and -botany is possible without some acquaintance with the types of plants -and animals that have passed away, for there are numerous speculative -problems in the domain of vital science, which, if soluble at all, -can only hope to find their key in researches carried out on extinct -organisms. - -No attempt will be made by the writer to discuss fully the biological -relations of fossils. Such an undertaking would afford matter for a -separate volume. All that I purpose in this chapter is to indicate very -cursorily the principal points of palæontological teaching, so that my -readers can acquire some idea of the progression from lower to higher -types that life has made throughout the geological ages. Preliminary to -the purpose held in view, let it be understood that the vast majority -of fossil animals and plants are extinct, or, differently and perhaps -more intelligently expressed, belong to species that no longer exist. -So far from there being any truth in the old idea that there have -been periodic destructions of all the living beings in existence upon -the earth, followed by a corresponding number of new creations of -plants and animals, the actual facts indicate that the extinction of -old and introduction of new forms have been processes that have been -continually going on throughout the whole of geologic time. Every -species seems to come into existence at a definite point of time, and -to disappear finally at another definite period, though there are few, -if any, instances, in which the times of entrance and exit could be -fixed with any degree of certainty or precision. Marked differences -in the actual time during which different species have remained in -existence are noticeable, and therefore corresponding differences in -their vertical range, or in the actual amount and thickness of strata -through which they present themselves as fossils, some species being -found to extend through two or three formations, and even a few have -had a more prolonged existence. More commonly, however, the species -which begin in the commencement of a great formation die out at or -before its close, while those which are introduced for the first time -near its middle or end may either become extinct or pass into the next -succeeding formation, animals of the lowest and simplest organization -as a rule having the longest range in time. Microscopic or minute -dimensions seem to favor longevity, for some of the Foraminifera -appear to have survived, with little or no perceptible alteration, -from the Silurian Period to the present day, whereas largely and -highly-organized animals, though long-lived as individuals, rarely seem -to live long specifically, and consequently have a restricted vertical -range. Exceptions to this rule are, however, occasionally found in some -persistent types, the Lampshells of the genus Lingula being little -changed from the Lingulæ that swarmed in the Lower Silurian seas, while -the existing Pearly Nautilus is the last descendant of a clan nearly as -old. Some forms, on the other hand, the Ammonites, which are closely -related to the Nautilus, and mostly restricted to certain zones of -strata, seem to have enjoyed a comparatively brief lease of life. - -[Illustration: LIFE IN THE PRIMORDIAL SEA. - -Representing Mollusks, Sponges, Crustaceans, Worms and Sea-Weeds.] - -But of the causes that have led to the extinction of plants and -animals, little or nothing is known. All that can be affirmed, in our -present knowledge, is that the attributes constituting a species do -not seem to be intrinsically endowed with permanence, any more than -those constituting an individual, though the former may endure whilst -many successive generations of the latter have disappeared from the -earth. Each species, it would seem, has its own life-period--its -beginning, culmination and decay--the life-periods of different species -being of very different duration. From all that has been said, it -may be gathered that our existing plants and animals are for the -most part of modern origin, using the term modern in its geological -acceptation. Measured by human standards, many of our existing -animals, those which are capable of being preserved as fossils, are -known to have a high antiquity. Not a few of our shell-fish commenced -their existence at some time in the Tertiary, while one species of -Lampshell--_Terebratulina caput-serpentis_--is believed to have -survived since the Chalk, and a number of the Foraminifera date -from the Carboniferous Period. Thus, we learn the additional fact -that our existing flora and fauna do not constitute an aggregation -of organic forms which were introduced into the world collectively -and simultaneously, but that they commenced their existence at very -different times, some being extremely ancient, whilst others are of -comparatively recent origin. And this introduction of existing plants -and animals, as admirably shown by the study of the fossil shells of -the Tertiary Period, was a slow and gradual process. Ninety-five -per cent. of the known fossil shells in the earliest Tertiary are -found to be species no longer in existence, the remaining 5 per -cent. being forms that are known to live in our present seas. In the -Middle Tertiary, the extinct types are much fewer in number, while at -the close of the Period the proportion with which we started may be -reversed, not more than 5 per cent. being extinct types. - -[Illustration: CARBONIFEROUS TIMES. - -Animals and Plants That Prevailed.] - -All existing animals belong to some five or six primary divisions, -which are technically known as sub-kingdoms, each sub-kingdom to be -regarded as representing a certain plan of structure, each and every -animal embraced therein being merely a modified form of this common -type. Not only are all known living animals reducible to these five or -six fundamental plans, but also the vast series of fossil forms which -have come to light in investigations of the earth’s strata. While many -fossil groups have no closely-related group now in existence, but in -no case do we meet with a fossil animal whose peculiarities do not -entitle it to be placed in one or other of the grand structural types -already indicated. The old types differ in many respects from those now -upon the earth, and the further we go back in time the more pronounced -does the divergence become. A comparison of the animals that lived -in the old Silurian seas with those now occupying our oceans, would -indicate differences so great in many instances as almost to place us -in another world, this divergence being most marked in the Palæozoic -forms of life, less so in those of the Mesozoic, and still less so in -the Tertiary. Each successive formation has therefore presented us with -animals becoming gradually more and more like those now in existence. -Though there is, however, an immense and striking difference between -the Silurian animals and those of the present day, yet this difference -is considerably lessened when a comparison is instituted between the -Silurian and the Devonian, and this with the Carboniferous, and so on -down to the present period. - -Thus it follows that the animals of any given formation, and the plants -as well, where the records are preserved, are more like those of the -next formation below and of the next formation above, than they are -like any others. This fact of itself is an inexplicable one. But if -we believe that the animals and plants of any given formation are, in -part at any rate, the lineal descendants of those of the preceding, -and the progenitors, also in part at least, of those of the succeeding -formation, then the fact is readily comprehensible. So frequently -confronted is the palæontologist with the phenomenon of closely-related -forms, especially of animals, succeeding one another in point of time, -that he is compelled to believe that such forms have been developed -from some common ancestral type by some process of evolution. Upon -no other theory can we comprehend why the Post-Tertiary mammals of -South America should consist of edentates, llamas, tapirs, peccaries, -platyrhine monkeys and other forms now characterizing this continent, -while those of Australia should be exclusively referable to the -order of marsupials; and on no other view can we explain the common -occurrence of transitional forms of life, filling in the gaps between -groups now widely distinct. But, on the other hand, there are facts -which point clearly to the presence of some other law than that of -evolution, and probably of a deeper and more far-reaching character. -No theory of evolution can offer a satisfactory explanation for the -constant introduction throughout geological time of new forms of life, -which do not appear to be preceded by pre-existent allied types. The -graptolites and trilobites have no known predecessors, and leave no -known successors. Insects appear suddenly in the Devonian, and spiders -and myriopods in the Carboniferous, but all under well-differentiated -and highly-specialized forms. With equal apparent suddenness the -Dibranchiate Cephalopods show themselves in the older Mesozoic -deposits, and no known type of the Palæozoic period can be pointed to -as a possible ancestor. And so does the wonderful dicotyledonous flora -of the Upper Cretaceous similarly surprise us without any prophetic -annunciation from the older Jurassic. Many other instances might -be cited, but enough has been said to show that the problem is one -environed with profound difficulties. - -[Illustration: MESOZOIC FLORA AND FAUNA. - -Cycads, Pandanus, Deinosaurs, Birds and Pterodactyl.] - -As we pass from the older rocks into the newer, we not only find that -the animals of each successive formation become gradually more and -more like existing species upon the globe, but we also find that there -has been a gradual progression and development in the types of animal -life which characterize the geological ages. Taking the earliest-known -and oldest examples of any given group, it can sometimes be shown -that these primitive forms, even though they are highly organized -themselves, possessed certain characters such as are now only to be met -with in the young of their existing representatives. Such characters, -which are technically called embryonic characters, do not prevent the -frequent attainment by their possessors of sizes much more gigantic -than those of their nearest living relatives. Moreover, these ancient -forms of life represent what are called comprehensive types, or types -that possess characters in combination such as are nowadays found -separately developed in different groups of animals. Such permanent -retention of embryonic characters and comprehensiveness of structural -type are signs of what zoölogists consider to be comparatively low -grades of organization, and their prevalence in the earlier forms of -animals is a very astonishing phenomenon, though they are none the less -perfectly organized so far as their peculiar type is concerned. As we -ascend the geological scale, these features will be found to gradually -disappear, higher and even higher forms will be introduced, and -specialization of type take the place of the former comprehensiveness. -That there has been in the past a general progression of organic -types, and that the appearance of the lower forms of life has in -the main preceded that of the higher forms in point of time, is a -widely-accepted generalization of palæontology. - -Now that it has been seen that there has been a gradual progression -and development of animal types all through the ages up to the era of -man, the question naturally occurs whether or not the changes are still -going on which will result in a higher development. Man coexisted in -Western Europe with several remarkable mammals in the later portion -of the Post-Pliocene Period. While we do not know the causes which -led to the extinction of the mammoth, woolly rhinoceros, cave-lion -and others, yet we do know that scarcely any mammalian species have -become extinct during the historical period. The species with which man -coexisted are such that presumably required a very different climate to -that now prevailing in Western Europe. Some of the deposits in which -man’s remains have been found in association with the bones of extinct -mammals incontestably show that great changes in the physiography -and surface-configuration of the country had taken place since the -period of their accumulation, the human implements themselves bearing -evidence of an exceedingly barbarous condition of the human species. -Post-Pliocene, or Palæolithic man, was clearly unacquainted with the -use of the metals. Not only was this the case, but the workmanship of -these ancient races was much inferior to that of the later tribes, -who were also ignorant of the metals, and who also used nothing but -weapons and tools of stone, bone, etc., in war, chase and domestic -affairs. When first man spread over the earth, he had no domestic -animals, perhaps not even the dog, and had no knowledge of agriculture. -His weapons were of the rudest character, and his houses scarcely -worthy of the name. No doubt can exist that his food, habits and -entire manner of living have varied as he has passed from country to -country, for he must then have been far more subject to the influence -of external circumstances, and in all probability more susceptible of -change. Moreover, his form, which is now stereotyped by long ages of -repetition, may reasonably be presumed to have been more plastic than -is now the case. As long as man led a mere animal existence, he would -be subject to the same laws, and would vary in the same manner as the -rest of his fellow-creatures. But when at last he had acquired the -capacity of clothing himself, and of making weapons or tools, he has -taken away from nature, in a great measure, that power of changing the -external form and structure which she exercises over all other animals. -From the time, then, when his social and sympathetic feelings came -into active operation, and his intellectual and moral faculties became -fairly developed, man’s physical form and structure would not be so -much influenced by natural laws, and, therefore, as an animal, he would -become almost stationary, his environment ceasing to have upon him that -powerful modifying effect which it exercises over other parts of the -organic world. But from the moment that his body became less subject -to the changes of the surrounding universe, his mind would become -acted upon by the influences which the body had escaped. Every slight -variation in his mental and moral nature, which would consequently -be brought about, and which would enable him better to guard against -adverse circumstances, and league together for mutual comfort and -protection, would be preserved and accumulated. The better and higher -specimens of our race would therefore increase and diffuse themselves, -while the lower and more brutal would succumb and successively die out, -and that rapid advancement of mental organization would occur, which -has raised the very lowest races of men, whose mentality was scarcely -superior to the animal, to that high position which it has attained in -the Germanic races. It would be too bold an assertion to say that man’s -body has become stationary. Slow and gradual changes still take place, -although his mere bodily structure long ago became of less importance -to him than that subtle energy, which is termed mind. No one can doubt -that _this_ gave his naked and unprotected body clothing against the -varying inclemencies of the seasons and enabled him to compete with the -deer in swiftness and the wild bull in strength by giving him weapons -wherewith to capture or subdue them both. Though less capable than most -other animals of subsisting on the herbs and the fruits of unaided -nature, it was this wonderful faculty that taught him to govern and -direct nature to his own benefit, and compel her to produce food for -him when and where he pleased. From the moment, then, when the first -skin was used as a covering, the first rude spear fashioned to aid in -the chase, and the first seed sown or shoot planted, a grand revolution -was effected in nature, a revolution which had had no parallel in all -the previous cycles of the world’s history, for a being had arisen -who was no longer necessarily subject to a changing universe, a being -who was in some degree superior to nature, inasmuch as he knew how to -control and regulate her action, and could maintain himself in unison -with her, not by a change brought about in the body, but by a growth -and advance in mind. Therein are shadowed forth the true grandeur and -dignity of man. Not only has he achieved for himself a great victory -in this rising by the power of mind superior to nature in a sense, but -he has also gained a directing influence over other existences, in -that he has been able to grasp from nature some of that power which, -before his appearance, she universally exercised. From all that man has -accomplished in the past, it is easy to anticipate the time when only -cultivated plants and domestic animals will be produced by the earth, -and when the ocean, which, for countless cycles of ages ruled supreme -over the globe, will be the only domain in which that power can be -exercised. - -That man has improved under civilization there can be no question. -Statistics show that, since the introduction of civilization, the -population of the earth in general has increased. No one can fail -to observe that under its influence the means of subsistence have -increased even more rapidly than the population. Far from suffering for -lack of food, the most densely peopled countries are those in which it -is, not only absolutely but even relatively most abundant. A thousand -men live to-day in plenty upon an area of ground that would scarcely -afford a scanty and precarious subsistence to a single savage. There -is no denying the fact that happiness is increased by civilization. -To talk of the free and noble savage is folly. The true savage is -neither free nor noble. He is a slave to his own wants, his own -passions. Imperfectly protected as he is from the weather, he suffers -at night from the cold and by day from the heat of the sun. Ignorant of -agriculture, living by the chase, and improvident in success, hunger -ever stares him in the face, and often drives him to the dreadful -alternative of cannibalism or death. The life of all beasts in their -wild state is certainly an exceedingly anxious one. So it is with the -savage. He is always suspicious, always in danger, always on the watch. -He can depend on no one, and no one can depend upon him, for he expects -nothing from his neighbor, and does unto others as he believes that -they would do unto him. His life is one prolonged scene of selfishness -and fear. Even in his religion, if he has any, he creates for himself -a new source of terror, and peoples the world with invisible enemies. -More wretched is the position of the female savage than that of her -master, for she not only shares his sufferings, but has also to bear -his ill-humor and ill-usage, being little better than his dog, little -dearer than his horse. Few of them, it is believed, are so fortunate -as to die a natural death, being despatched ere they become old and -emaciated, that so much good food shall not be lost. Indeed, so -little importance is attached to women, either before or after death, -that it may be doubted whether the man does not esteem his dog, when -alive, quite as much as he does his woman, and think of both quite as -often and as lovingly after he has made a meal of them. Not content, -moreover, with the pleasures incident to their mode of life, savages -appear to take a melancholy delight in self-inflicted sufferings. They -not only tattoo their bodies, but practise the most extraordinary -methods of disfigurement and self-torture, some amputating the little -finger, while others drill immense holes in the under-lip, or pierce -the cartilage of the nose. These and many other curious practices, none -the less painful because they are voluntary, are in vogue among savage -people. Turning now to the bright side of the question, we cannot but -conclude that the pleasures of civilized man are greater than those of -the savage. While man will never be able to improve the organization -of the eye or the ear, yet, on the other hand, the invention of the -telescope and the microscope is equivalent in its results to an immense -improvement of the eyes, thus opening up to us new worlds, fresh -sources of interest and happiness, while the training of the ear will -enable us to invent new musical instruments and compose new melodies. -The savage, like a child, sees and hears only that which is brought -directly before him, but the civilized man questions nature, and by -the various processes of chemistry, electricity and magnetism, and a -thousand ingenious contrivances, forces nature to reveal herself, -thereby discovering hidden uses and unsuspected beauties, quite as -marvellously as though he were endowed with some entirely new organ of -sense. Through the discovery of printing, we are brought into communion -with the greatest minds, and thus the thoughts of a Shakespeare or a -Tennyson, or the discoveries of a Newton or a Darwin, become the common -property of mankind. Already the results of this all-important, though -simple, process have vastly improved our mental faculties, and day by -day, as books become cheaper, schools are established and education -more general, a greater and greater effect will be produced. - -Nor are all these new sources of happiness accompanied by any new -liability to suffering. On the contrary, while our pleasures are -increased, our pains are lessened. In a thousand ways we can avoid or -diminish evils which to our ancestors were great and unavoidable. No -one can estimate the misery which, for instance, the simple discovery -of chloroform has spared the human race. The capacity for pain, so -far as it can serve as a warning, remains all the same, but the -necessity for endurance has been greatly diminished. With increased -knowledge of the laws of health, and attention thereto, disease will -become less and less frequent, and those tendencies to disease which -we have inherited from our ancestors will gradually die out, and, if -fresh seeds are not sown, the race will one day enjoy the inestimable -advantages of a more vigorous and healthy existence. Thus, then, with -the increasing influence of science we may confidently look forward to -a great improvement in the condition of man. But it may be alleged that -our present sufferings and sorrows arise chiefly from sin, and that -any moral improvement must come from religion and not from science. -This separation of the two mighty agents of improvement, the great -misfortune of humanity, has done more than anything else to retard -the progress of civilization. But even if we admit for the nonce that -science will not render us more virtuous, it must certainly make us -more innocent, for in fact the most of our criminal population are -mere savages, persons who can rarely read and write, and whose crimes -are but injudicious and desperate attempts to live a savage life in -the midst, and at the expense, of a civilized community. Men do wrong -either from ignorance or in the hope, unexpressed perhaps even to -themselves, that they may enjoy the pleasure and yet avoid the penalty -of sin. All that they have to do they think, when they have committed -sin, is to repent. The religious teaching of the day has much to do -with this misapprehension. Repentance is too frequently regarded as a -substitute for punishment. Sin it is thought is followed either by the -one or the other. So far, therefore, as this world is concerned, this -is not the case; repentance may enable a man to avoid sin in future, -but has no effect on the consequences of the past. The laws of nature -are not only just and salutary, but they are also inexorable. While -all men admit that “the wages of sin is death,” yet they seem to think -that this is a general rule to which there may be many exceptions, -that some sins may possibly tend to happiness. That suffering is the -inevitable consequence of sin, as surely as an effect follows a cause, -is the stern yet salutary teaching of science. And certainly if this -lesson were thoroughly impressed upon our minds, that punishment and -not happiness is the consequence of sin, then temptation, which is -the very root of crime, would be cut away, and mankind must therefore -necessarily become more innocent. May we not go still further and -say that science will also render us more virtuous? He who studies -philosophy can only obtain a just idea of the great things for which -Providence has fitted his understanding. Such a study not only makes -our lives more agreeable, but it also makes them better, and every -motive of interest and duty should constrain a rational being to direct -his mind towards pursuits which all experience has shown to be the sure -path of virtue and happiness. - -Man is in reality but on the threshold of civilization. Far from -showing any indication of having reached the end, the tendency to -improvement seems laterally to have proceeded with augmented impetus -and accelerated rapidity. There is no reason to suppose that it must -now cease. Man has not attained the limits of intellectual development, -nor exhausted the infinite capabilities of nature. There are many -things not yet dreamt of in our philosophy which science must reveal, -many discoveries yet to be made which will confer upon the human race -advantages which as yet, perhaps, we are not in a condition to grasp -and appreciate. We seem, when we compare our present knowledge with -the great ocean of truth that lies all undiscovered before us, like -little children playing on the sea-shore, and picking up a smoother -pebble and prettier shell than any they had met with before. Thus, it -is obvious, that our most sanguine hopes for the future are justified -by the entire experience of the past. It is surely unreasonable to -presume that a process which has been going on for so many thousand -years should have now suddenly ceased; and he must indeed be blind -who thinks that our civilization is unsusceptible of improvement, or -that we ourselves are in the highest state possible for man to attain. -Theory, as well as experience, forces the same conclusion upon us. That -principle of Natural Selection, which in animals affects the body and -seems to have little influence on the mind, in man affects the mind and -has little influence on the body. In the former it leads mainly to the -preservation of life, and in the latter to the improvement of the mind, -and consequently to the increase of happiness. It ensures, in the words -of Spencer, “a constant progress towards a higher skill, intelligence, -and self-regulation--a better coördination of actions--a more complete -life.” Nearly all the evils under which we suffer, it will be conceded, -may be attributed either to ignorance or sin. That ignorance will be -diminished by the progress of science is, of course, self-evident; -and that the same will be the case with sin, seems little less so. -Thus, then, do both science and theory point to the same conclusion. -That which poets hardly dared to hope for, the future happiness of our -race, science boldly predicts. Even in our own time we trust to see -some wonderful improvement. But the unselfish mind, however, will find -its highest gratification in the belief that, whatever may be the case -with ourselves, our descendants will understand many things which are -mysterious to us now, will better appreciate the beautiful world in -which we live, avoid much of the suffering to which we are subject, -enjoy many blessings of which we are not yet worthy, and escape many of -those temptations which we deplore but cannot wholly resist. - -We have thus seen that all life has been progressive. There has been -through the ages a steadily growing upward tendency to higher life. -But the changes have mainly been in the line of physical form and -structure. And such, too, had been the case with man, until his social, -intellectual and moral faculties had begun to assert themselves, when -his body ceased in a great measure to be acted upon by physical laws, -and development began to manifest itself in a higher type of mental -organization. From the low, simple, childlike mind of palæolithic man -has come that wonderful intellect which now characterizes the Germanic -races, and which is destined to make itself felt in its contact -with all the earth. Those peoples that are able to embrace the new -civilization brought to their doors, so to speak, will survive, while -the others, unable to adapt themselves thereto, like the Tasmanian, -will succumb in the struggle with a superior being and go to the -wall. Animals and plants will be brought into new relations and new -conditions, and such as can meet the new requirements will, as certain -species have done before, endure. They will, in other words, have -partaken of an enlightened civilization. Thus things will go on until -all life, vegetal and animal, will be brought under the controlling -and elevating influence of man, and then will be inaugurated on earth -that condition when the lion and the kid shall lie down together, and -a little child shall be found in their midst. Nothing harmful will -anywhere exist. Heaven will then have been brought down to earth, and -peace and harmony will universally prevail. Then will have come the -complete triumph of mind over body. All growth and development of the -reformed and regenerated earth-man will be in the direction of mind, -and his accomplishments will he share with the inferior subjects of his -peaceful and happy domain. Progression, however, will not cease, but -will go on steadily advancing as the years increase. And if there is a -life beyond the earth-life, then the intellect or mind, or soul if you -please, shall, in some form or other, exist therein, and reach up into -higher and yet higher growth and development. - - - - -SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST. - - -Among organic beings in a state of nature there is some individual -variability. This is an admission about which there can be no dispute. -But the mere existence of individual variability and of a few -well-marked varieties, though necessary as the foundation for the work, -assists us but little in understanding how species originate in nature. -Those exquisite adaptations of one part of the organization to another -part, and to the conditions of life, and of one organic being to -another being, which we know to exist, seem as mysteries. We see them -in the humblest parasite that clings to the hairs of a quadruped or the -feathers of a bird, in the structure of the beetle that dives through -the water, and in the plumed seed that is wafted by the gentlest -breeze. In short, we see beautiful adaptations everywhere and in every -part of the organic world. And yet, how few have paused while admiring -these beautiful and wonderful co-adaptations to ask themselves the -question: How have these been perfected? - -If the existence of any well-marked varieties be admitted, how is it -that these varieties, which may be denominated incipient species, -become ultimately converted into good and distinct species, which -in the generality of cases obviously differ from each in a greater -degree than do the varieties of the same species? How do these groups -of species, which constitute what are authoritatively called genera, -and which differ from each other more than do the species of the same -genus, arise? All these results, as will presently be seen, follow from -the Struggle for Existence. Owing to this struggle, all variations, -no matter how slight they may be, or from what cause soever they may -proceed, will, if they be in any degree profitable to the individuals -of a species in their infinitely complex relations to other organic -beings and their physical conditions of life, unavoidably conduce to -the preservation of such individuals, and generally be inherited by -the offspring. The offspring, too, will thus have a better chance -of surviving, for, of the many individuals of a species that are -periodically born, but a very small number can survive. That principle, -by which each slight variation, if useful to the individual, is -preserved, has been termed Natural Selection by Darwin, in order to -distinguish it from the selection which is exercised by man over the -plants and animals which he has brought under subjection for his own -wants. But the expression--Survival of the Fittest--so frequently used -by Spencer, is more accurate, and sometimes equally convenient. Man can -certainly produce great results by this power, and can adapt, through -the accumulation of slight but useful variations given to him by the -hand of nature, organic beings to his own uses. But Natural Selection, -as is well known, is a power incessantly ready for action, and is as -infinitely superior to man’s feeble efforts as the works of nature are -to those of art. - -All organic beings are exposed to severe competition. Nothing is -easier than to admit in words the truth of the universal struggle -for life, or more difficult than constantly to bear this conclusion, -which has been reached through the investigations and researches of De -Candolle, Lyell, Herbert, Darwin and others, in mind. Unless, however, -it be thoroughly ingrained in the mind, the whole economy of nature, -with every fact on distribution, rarity, abundance, extinction and -variation, will be but dimly perceived or quite misunderstood. We -behold the face of nature radiant with gladness, and food everywhere -in excessive abundance, but we do not see that the birds which are -happily singing round us mostly live on insects or seeds, and are -thus constantly destroying life, or we fail to remember how largely -these songsters, or their eggs, or their nestlings, are destroyed by -birds and beasts of prey. Yes, we do not always bear in mind that, -though food may now be superabundant, it is not so at all seasons of -each recurring year. The term, Struggle for Existence, must be used in -a large and metaphorical sense. It must be construed to include the -dependence of one being on another, and also not only the life of the -individual but also its success in leaving offspring. Two carnivores, -in a time of scarcity of food, may be truly said to struggle with each -other for maintenance of life. But a plant on the edge of a desert -is said to struggle for life against the drought, though, properly -speaking, it is dependent for its existence upon the moisture. A plant, -however, that annually produces many thousand seeds of which on an -average only one comes to maturity, may in a much truer sense be said -to struggle with the plants of the same and other kinds which already -invest the ground. While the mistletoe is dependent on the apple and -some other trees, yet it cannot be said, unless in a far-fetched sense, -to struggle with these trees, for, if too many of these parasites are -found upon the same tree, it will certainly languish and die. Several -seedling mistletoes, however, growing close together upon the same -branch, may more truly be said to struggle with each other. - -From the high rate at which all organic beings tend to increase, there -must inevitably follow a Struggle for Existence. Every being which, -during its natural lifetime, produces several eggs or seeds, must -necessarily suffer destruction during some part of that period, and -during some season or occasional year, otherwise, on the principle -of Geometrical Increase, its numbers would become so inordinately -excessive that no country would be able to support its product. -Therefore, as more individuals are produced than can possibly -survive, there must be in every case a Struggle for Existence, either -one individual struggling with another of the same kind, or with -individuals of distinct kinds or species, or with the conditions of -the environment. This is the doctrine of Malthus applied with manifold -force to the entire vegetable and animal kingdoms. Although some -species may be now increasing at a very high rate in numbers, yet -all cannot do so, for the earth would not be able to contain them. -Slow-breeding man has doubled in twenty-five years, and should he go -on at this rate for a few thousand years, there would literally not -be standing room for his progeny. It has been calculated that, if an -annual plant produced only two seeds, and their seedlings next year -produced two, and the same rate of increase was kept up for twenty -years, there would be a million of plants as the result. Even the -elephant, which is reckoned the slowest breeder of all known animals, -would after a period of from seven hundred and forty to seven hundred -and fifty years leave nearly nineteen million elephants as descendants -from the first pair. - -Much better evidence than mere theoretical calculations are not wanting -on this subject. Instances are recorded of the astonishingly rapid -increase of various animals in a state of nature, when conditions have -been favorable to them, during two or three succeeding seasons. More -striking, however, is the evidence from domestic animals that have run -wild in several parts of the world. Were not the statements of the -rate of increase of cattle and horses in South America, and latterly -in Australia, where millions now abound, well authenticated, they -would have been incredible. Cases could be mentioned of introduced -plants that have become quite common throughout entire islands in a -period of less than twelve years. Several of these plants, the cardoon -and a rare thistle, which were introduced from Europe, clothe square -leagues of the surface of the wide plains of the La Plata almost to the -exclusion of all other plants; and there are plants which now range in -India, from Cape Comorin to the Himalaya, which have been imported from -America since its discovery. In all such cases, and endless instances -could be adduced, no intelligent person supposes that their fertility -has been increased in any sensible degree by change of habitat, the -obvious explanation being that the conditions of environment have been -very favorable, and that there has consequently been less destruction -of old and young, and that nearly all the latter have been enabled -to breed. The extraordinarily rapid increase and wide diffusion of -naturalized productions in new homes, a result which never fails -to evoke surprise, is only to be explained on the principle of the -Geometrical Ratio of Increase. As in nature almost every plant produces -seed, and there are very few animals that do not annually pair, -therefore we can confidently assert that all plants and animals are -tending to increase in a geometrical ratio; that all would most rapidly -stock every station in which they could in any way exist, and that the -tendency to increase must be checked by destruction at some period of -life. Among our larger domestic animals we see no great destruction -falling on them. We forget that thousands are annually slaughtered -for food, and that in a natural state an equal number would have to -be disposed of in some way or other. Between organisms which annually -produce seeds or eggs by the thousands, and those which produce -extremely few, the only difference is that the slow breeders would -require a few more years to people, under favorable conditions, a whole -district, let it be ever so large. But a couple of eggs are laid by the -condor, while the ostrich lays a score. Yet in the same country the -condor may be the more abundant of the two. The Fulmer petrel lays but -a single egg, yet it is believed to be the most numerous bird in the -world. A large number of eggs is of some importance to those species -which depend upon a rapidly-fluctuating quantity of food, for it -permits them to increase rapidly in number; but the real importance of -a large number of eggs or seeds is to make up for the great destruction -that goes on at some period of life, and this period in the vast -majority of cases is an early one. If an animal can in any way protect -its own eggs or young, a small number may be produced, and the average -stock be kept up; but if many eggs or young are destroyed, then many -must be produced or the species will become extinct. Therefore, the -average number of any animal or plant depends, though only indirectly, -upon the number of its eggs or seeds. We should never forget, in taking -a survey of nature, that every single organic being around us may be -said to be striving to the utmost to augment its members; that each -lives by a struggle at some period of its existence, and that heavy -destruction falls either on the young or old during each generation or -at recurrent intervals. Let any check be lightened, or the destruction -be mitigated ever so little, and the number of the species will almost -instantaneously increase to any extent. - -But of the nature of the checks to increase we know little, although -this subject has been very ably treated by writers of eminence. Eggs -or very young animals seem generally to suffer the most, but this is -not invariably the case. While there is a vast destruction of the -seeds of plants, but it is the seedlings which are believed to suffer -the greatest, from germinating in ground already thickly stocked with -other plants, and from being destroyed in large numbers by various -enemies. The amount of food for each species of course determines the -extreme limit to which each can increase, but very often it is not -the obtaining of food, but the serving as prey to other animals which -fixes the average number of a species. Thus there seems to be little -doubt that the stock of partridges, grouse and hares on any large -estate depends mainly on the destruction of vermin. Were not a single -head of game shot during the next twenty years in England, says Darwin -in substance, and no vermin were at the same time destroyed, there -would in all probability be less game than at present exists, although -hundreds of thousands of game animals are now annually killed for -the market. In some cases, on the other hand, as in the case of the -elephant, none are destroyed by beasts of prey, for even the tiger -in India, bold and venturesome as he is known to be, rarely dares to -attack a young elephant protected by its mother. Climate, also, plays -an important part in determining the average number of a species, and -periodical seasons of extreme cold or drought are seemingly the most -effective checks of all. The action of climate appears at first sight -to be altogether independent of the Struggle for Existence; but in -so far as it chiefly acts in the reduction of food, it brings on the -most severe struggle between the individuals, whether of the same or -different species, which subsist on the same kind of fare. Even when -climate, extreme cold for example, acts directly, it will be the least -vigorous animals, or those which have been the poorest fed through -the advancing winter, that will suffer the greatest. This will be -most readily seen from what we shall now relate. When we travel from -south to north, or from a damp region to a dry, we invariably see some -species getting rarer and rarer by degrees, and finally disappearing. -Change of climate being conspicuous, we are inclined to ascribe the -entire effect to its direct action, but this is a false interpretation -of the phenomenon, for we fail to remember that each species, even -where it most prevails, is constantly suffering enormous destruction -at some period of its existence, from enemies or competitors for the -same station and food; and if these enemies or competitors be the -least favored by any slight change of climate, they will necessarily -increase in numbers, while the other species, each area being already -stocked with inhabitants, will correspondingly decrease. And when we -travel southward and see a species decreasing in numbers, we may feel -reasonably sure that the cause lies quite as much in other species -being favored as in this being hurt. So it is when we travel northward, -though in a less degree. When we go northward, or when we ascend a -mountain, we far oftener meet with stunted forms, due to the directly -injurious action of climate, than we do when we go southward or descend -a mountain. When, however, we reach the Arctic regions, or explore -snow-capped summits, or absolute deserts, we perceive the struggle for -life to be almost exclusively with the elements. - -That climate operates mainly, but indirectly, in favoring other -species, may be clearly seen in the prodigious numbers of garden plants -that can thoroughly well endure our climate, but which can never become -naturalized, inasmuch as they cannot compete with native vegetation nor -resist destruction by native animals. - -When a species, owing to highly favorable conditions, increases -inordinately in numbers in a small tract of country, epidemics, -especially in game animals, often occur, and here we have a limiting -check independent of the Struggle for Existence. But some of these -so-called epidemics appear to be due to parasitic worms, which have -from some cause, possibly in part through ease of diffusion among the -crowded animals, been disproportionately favored, and here comes in a -sort of struggle between the parasite and its more illustrious prey. - -But, on the other hand, as is frequently the case, a large stock of -individuals of the same species, relatively to the number of its -enemies, is absolutely essential to its preservation. We thus see -how it is possible to raise with ease a plentiful supply of corn in -our fields, because the seeds are greatly in excess of the number -of birds which feed thereon. Nor can the birds, though blessed with -a superabundance of food at this one season, increase in number in -proportion to the supply of seed, as their numbers are checked during -the winter. Any one, however, who has made the experiment, knows how -troublesome it is to get seed from a few wheat or other such plants -sown broad-cast in a garden. Some singular facts in nature, such as -that of very rare plants being sometimes extremely abundant in the few -spots where they do occur, and that of some social plants being social, -or abounding in individuals, even on the extreme confines of their -range, are readily explainable by this view of the necessity of a -large stock of the same species for its preservation, for in such cases -we may believe that a plant could only exist where the conditions of -its life were so favorable that many could exist together and thus save -the species from extinction. - -Complex and varied are the checks and relations between organic beings -which have to struggle together in the same country. In the case -of every species, many different checks, some very complicated and -unintelligible to man at present, acting at different periods of life, -and during different seasons or years, come into play, some one check -or some few being generally the most powerful, but all concurring in -determining the average number or even the existence of the species. -Widely-different checks sometimes act on the same species in different -districts. Looking at the plants and bushes that clothe an entangled -bank, we are tempted to ascribe their proportional numbers and kinds -to what we call chance. But this is a very false view to take of the -matter. Chance has no part in such things. They follow in obedience to -laws of which we know comparatively little. When an American forest -is cut down a very different vegetation springs up. Ancient Indian -ruins have been observed in the southern parts of the United States, -which must in former times have been cleared of trees, but which now -display the same beautiful diversity and proportion of kinds as are -now found in the surrounding virgin forest. What a struggle must have -gone on during long centuries between the several kinds of trees, each -annually scattering its seeds by the thousand, and what a war between -insect and insect, and between insects, snails and other animals with -birds and beasts of prey, all striving to increase, all feeding on each -other, or on the trees, their seeds and their seedlings, or on the -other plants which once clothed the soil, and thus checked the growth -of the trees! It is easier to account for the fall of an apple from a -tree, or the descent of a stone to the earth when hurled into the air, -than to account for the action and reaction of the innumerable plants -and animals that have determined in the course of untold centuries the -proportional numbers and kinds of trees that are now found growing on -these old Indian ruins. But the struggle will almost invariably be the -severest between individuals of the same species, for they frequent -the same districts, require the same food and are exposed to the same -dangers. In the case of varieties of the same species, the struggle -will generally be almost equally severe. If several varieties of wheat -be sown together, and the mixed seed be re-sown, some of the varieties -which best suit the soil or climate, or are naturally the most fertile, -will beat the others and so yield more seed, and will consequently -in a few years supplant the others. Such extremely-close varieties -as the variously-colored sweet-peas must be separately harvested -each year, and the seed mixed in due proportion, or the weaker kinds -will steadily decrease in number and disappear. So, again, with the -varieties of sheep. Certain mountain-varieties will starve out other -mountain-varieties, so that they cannot be kept together. Similar -results have followed from keeping together different varieties of the -medicinal leech. In view of all that has been said, it is questionable -whether the varieties of any of our domestic plants and animals have -so exactly the same vigor, constitution and habits that the original -proportions of a mixed stock could be kept up for a half-dozen -generations if they were permitted to struggle together like beings in -a state of nature, if the seed or young were not annually assorted. - -Species of the same genus having usually, though not invariably, much -similarity in habits and constitution, and always in structure, the -struggle will be more severe between species of the same genus, where -they come into competition with each other, than between species of -distinct genera. One species of swallow has caused in certain parts -of the United States the decrease of another species, just as the -missel-thrush in parts of Scotland has caused the decrease of the -song-thrush. The small Asiatic cockroach has everywhere in Russia -driven before it its great congener, and the imported European -hive-bee is rapidly exterminating in Australia the small, stingless -bee, indigenous to the country. Hundreds of such cases might be cited, -but we forbear. We can clearly see why the competition should be most -severe between allied forms, which fill nearly the same place in the -economy of nature; but it is perhaps not possible to individualize a -case and say with preciseness why such species has been victorious over -another in the battle of life. That the structure of every organic -being is related, in the most essential yet often hidden manner to -that of all the other organisms with which it comes into competition -for food or residence, or from which it has to escape, or on which -it preys, is a corollary of the highest importance deducible from -the foregoing remarks. Very obvious is this in the structure of the -teeth and talons of the tiger, and in that of the legs and claws -of the parasite which clings to the hair on the tiger’s body. But -in the beautifully-plumed seed of the dandelion and the flattened -and fringed legs of the water-beetle the relation seems at first -restricted to the elements of air and water, yet the advantage of -plumed seeds undoubtedly stands in the most intimate relation to the -land, being already densely clothed with other plants, so that the -seeds may be widely diffused and fall on unoccupied ground, while in -the water-beetle, the structure of its legs, so admirably adapted for -diving, allows it to compete with other aquatic insects, to hunt for -its own prey and to escape destruction by other predaceous animals. All -organic beings, it will thus be seen, are not only striving to increase -in numbers, but are called upon some time in their lives to struggle -for existence or to suffer serious if not utter destruction. When we -reflect on this struggle, we can console ourselves with the full belief -that this war of nature is not incessant, that no fear is felt, that -death is generally sudden, and that the vigorous, healthy and happy -survive and multiply. - -Seeing what a potent influence the principle of Selection has in the -hands of man, in regard to variation, can it be applied in nature? -We can see that it can act most effectually. But in our domestic -productions the variability is not directly produced by man, for he -can neither originate varieties nor prevent their occurrence. All he -can do is to preserve and accumulate such as do occur. Unintentionally -he exposes organic beings to new and changing conditions of life, for -under domestication, plant and animal organizations become in some -degree plastic, and variability ensues. Similar changes, however, -do occur in nature. When it is borne in mind how infinitely complex -and close-fitting are the mutual relations of all organic beings -to each other, and to their environment, and consequently what -infinitely-varied diversities of structure may be of advantage to each -being under altered conditions, can it then be thought improbable, -seeing that variations useful to man have undoubtedly occurred, that -other variations useful in some way to each being in the great and -complex battle of life should sometimes occur in the course of tens -of thousands of generations? If such do occur, can we doubt, when it -is remembered that many more individuals are born than can possibly -survive, that individuals possessing any advantage, no matter how -slight, over their fellows would have the best chance of surviving and -of procreating their kind? Any variation, on the other hand, we may -feel sure if in the least degree injurious would be rigidly destroyed. -This preservation of useful and favorable variations, and the -destruction of those that are injurious, is called Natural Selection, -or the Survival of the Fittest. Variations neither advantageous nor -deleterious would not be affected by Natural Selection, and would be -left either a fluctuating element, as seen in certain polymorphic -species, or would alternately become fixed, owing to the nature both of -the organism and its conditions. - -We shall best understand the probable cause of Natural Selection by -taking a country undergoing some physical change, as of climate for -example. The proportional number of its inhabitants would almost -immediately undergo a change, and some of its species might become -extinct. From the complex and very intimate manner in which the -inhabitants of each country are bound together, we may conclude that -any change in the numerical proportion of some of its inhabitants, -independently of the change of climate itself, would seriously affect -the others. Were the country open on its borders, new forms would -certainly immigrate, and this, too, would often seriously disturb the -relations of some of its former inhabitants. In the case, however, -of an island, or a country hemmed in by barriers, into which new and -better-adapted forms could not readily enter, we would then meet with -places in the economy of nature which would assuredly be better filled -up, if some of the original occupants were in some manner modified, for -had the area been open to immigration, these same places would have -been seized by intruders. Thus, slight modifications, which any way -favored the individuals of a species, would by better adapting them -to changed conditions tend to become preserved, and Natural Selection -would there have free scope for the work of improvement. Changes in -the conditions of life cause or excite a tendency to vary. In the -foregoing case the conditions are supposed to have changed, and this -would manifestly be favorable, by giving a better chance of profitable -variations occurring, to Natural Selection, for unless such do occur, -Natural Selection can do nothing. As man, by adding up in any given -direction individual differences, can certainly produce a great result -with his domestic animals and plants, so could Natural Selection, -but far more easily from having an incomparably longer time for its -action. No great physical change, as of climate, nor any unusual degree -of isolation to check immigration, is actually necessary, it would -seem, to produce new and unoccupied places for Natural Selection to -fill up by modifying and improving some of the varying inhabitants, -for as all the inhabitants of a country are struggling together -with nicely-balanced forces, extremely-slight modifications in the -structure or habits of one species would often give it an advantage -over others; and still further modifications, so long as the species -continued under the same conditions of life and profited by similar -means of subsistence and defence, would often still further augment the -advantage. No country can be mentioned whose native inhabitants are now -so perfectly adapted to each other and to their environment that none -could be better adapted and improved, for in all countries the natives -have been so far conquered by naturalized productions as to have -allowed them to take firm possession of the land. And as foreigners -have thus in every country beaten some of the natives, it may be safely -concluded that the latter might have been modified with profit so as to -have better resisted the intruders. - -A man by his methodical and unconscious means of selection can produce -and has produced great results. What may not Natural Selection effect? -Man can only operate on external and visible characters, but nature -cares nothing for appearances, except in so far as they are beneficial -to any being. She can act on every internal organ, on every shade of -constitutional difference and, in fine, on the entire machinery of -life. Man selects exclusively for his own advantage, but nature solely -for that of the being she tends, and under her judicious selection -the slightest difference of structure or constitution may well turn -the nicely-balanced scale in the Struggle for Existence, and thus -be preserved. As fleeting as are the wishes and efforts of man, and -as short as is his earthly career, so poor, therefore, must be the -results which he accomplishes when compared with those accumulated by -nature during whole geological periods. Is it a wonder, then, that her -productions should be far _truer_ in character than man’s, and that -they should be infinitely better adapted to the most complex conditions -of life and should bear the stamp of far higher workmanship? -Metaphorically speaking, Natural Selection may be said to be daily and -hourly scrutinizing, throughout the world, the slightest variations, -rejecting the bad, preserving and adding up the good, and silently -and insensibly working, whenever and wherever opportunities occur, at -the betterment of each organic being in relation to its organic and -inorganic conditions of life. So slow is her work that we see nothing -of the changes in progress, and only when the hand of time has marked -the lapse of ages do we perceive that changes have been produced; but -then so imperfect is our view into long-past geological periods, that -we see only that the forms of life are now different from what they -formerly were. That any great amount of modification in any point -should be effected, a variety once formed must again, perhaps after -a long interval of time, present individual differences of the same -favorable character, and these must again be preserved, and so onward -step by step. As individual differences of all kinds perpetually -recur, this can hardly be considered as an unwarrantable assumption. -Judged by the extent the hypothesis accords with and explains the -general phenomena of nature, notwithstanding the ordinary belief that -the amount of possible variation is a strictly-limited quantity, we -are justified, it seems to us, in assuming that all this has actually -taken place. But in looking at many small points of difference between -species, which in our ignorance seem quite unimportant, we must not -lose sight of the facts that climate, food and modes of life may have -produced some direct effect, and also of the truth that, owing to -the Law of Correlation, when one part varies, and the variations are -accumulated through the Survival of the Fittest, other modifications -often of the most unlooked-for nature will ensue. - -As under domestication these variations are known to appear at a -particular period of life, and tend to reappear in the offspring at the -same period, so, in a state of nature, it is reasonable to infer that -Natural Selection will be enabled to act on and modify organic beings -at any age, by the accumulation of variations useful at that age, and -by their inheritance at a corresponding age. Thus, if it be profitable -to a plant to have its seeds more and more widely disseminated by the -wind, there can be no greater difficulty in conceiving this to be -effected through Natural Selection than in conceiving the increasing -and improving of the down in the pods on his cotton-trees by a wise -selection upon the part of a cotton-planter. Natural Selection may -modify and adapt the larva of an insect to a score of contingencies, -wholly different from those which affect the mature insect, and these -modifications through Correlation may work changes in the structure of -the adult. On the other hand, modifications of the adult may affect the -structure of the larva, but in all such cases Natural Selection will -insure that these changes shall not be injurious, for, if they were so, -the extinction of the species would be the inevitable result. Thousands -of instances might be given to show the influence which Natural -Selection, or Sexual Selection, which is only a less vigorous phase -of the former, has had all through the ages in the adaptation of life -to the places in nature which it was intended to occupy in pursuance -of the plan formulated by the Great Originator and Designer of the -Universe. - -Despite the imperfection of the geological record, which has been urged -as a serious objection to the theory of descent with modification, -sensible, intelligent, educated men no longer doubt that species have -all changed, and that they have changed in the way required, for they -have changed slowly and in a graduated manner. This is clearly seen in -the fossil remains from consecutive formations being invariably much -more closely allied to each other than are those from widely-separated -formations. It is true geological research does not yield those -infinitely fine gradations between past and present species which the -theory of Natural Selection requires, but when it is remembered that -only a small portion of the world has been geologically explored; that -only organic beings of certain classes, at least in any great number, -can be preserved in a fossil condition; that many species when once -formed never undergo any further change, but become extinct without -leaving any modified descendants; that dominant and widely-ranging -species vary the most and the most frequently, and that varieties -are often at first only local, it is not at all surprising that the -discovery of intermediate links to any considerable extent should not -have been made. Local varieties, as is well known, will not diffuse -themselves into other and distant localities until they have become -very much modified and improved, and when they have thus diffused -themselves, and are discovered in a geological formation, they will -appear as if suddenly created there, and will simply be ranked as new -species. Besides, formations have often been intermittent in their -accumulation, and their duration has probably been shorter than the -average duration of specific forms. And as successive formations in -most cases are separated from each other by blank intervals of time -of considerable length, and as fossiliferous formations thick enough -to withstand future degradation can as a general rule be accumulated -only where much sediment is laid down in the subsiding bed of the -ocean, it follows that during the alternate periods of elevation and -of stationary level the record will generally be blank or devoid of -fossil remains. During these latter periods there will doubtless be -more variability in the forms of life, and during the periods of -subsidence a greater amount of extinction. Now, as geology plainly -declares that each land has undergone great physical changes, we have -a right to expect that organic beings have varied under nature in the -same manner as they have varied under domestication, and such have -scientific study and research found to be the case. And if there has -been any variability under nature, such a fact would seem unaccountable -unless Natural Selection, or the Survival of the Fittest, did not come -into play. Upon the view that variations have occurred in nature and -have been preserved and accumulated by Natural Selection, and not in -the ordinary view of independent creation, we can understand why the -specific characters, or those by which the species of the same genus -differ from each other, should be more variable than the generic -characters in which they all agree. Inexplicable as is the occasional -appearance of stripes on the shoulders and legs of the different -equine species and their hybrids on the theory of creation, yet how -simply is the fact explained if we believe that they are all descended -from a striped progenitor just as the different domestic breeds of -pigeons are descended from the blue and barred rock-pigeons. Why, for -example, should the color of a flower be more likely to vary in any -one species of a genus, if the other species, supposed to have been -created independently, have differently-colored flowers, than if all -the species of the genus have the same colored flowers? On the theory -that species are only well-marked varieties, of which the characters -have become in a high degree permanent, the fact is intelligible, for -they have already varied in certain characters since they branched off -from a common progenitor, and by these characters they have come to be -specifically distinct from each other. Therefore, these same characters -would be more likely again to vary than the generic characters which -have been inherited without change for an enormous period of time. - -Upon the theory of Natural Selection, or the Survival of the Fittest, -with its contingencies of extinction and divergence of character, -we can see how it is that all past and present organic beings can -be arranged within a few classes, in groups subordinate to groups, -and with the extinct groups often falling in between the recent -groups. We can see how it is that the mutual affinities of the forms -within each class are so complex and diversified, and only adaptive -characters, though of superior importance to the beings, are of -scarcely any significance in classification, while those derived from -rudimentary parts, though of no recognized service, are often of high -classificatory value, and only embryological characters are frequently -the most valuable of all. The real affinities of all organisms, in -contradistinction to their adaptive likenesses, are due to inheritance -or community of descent. Hence, a natural system of classification is -a genealogical arrangement, with the acquired grades of difference, -denoted by varieties, species, genera, families, etc., and their lines -of descent have to be discovered by the most permanent characters, -whatever they may be and how little of vital importance they may -possess. - -That species are immutable productions, which was until quite recently -the current belief by laymen and naturalists, was almost unavoidable -so long as the world was considered to be of short duration. But now -that some idea has been acquired of the time that has elapsed since -the beginning of earth-life, we are too apt to assume, without proof, -that the geologic record is so complete, that it would have afforded us -some plain evidence of the mutation of species, if they had undergone -mutation. But the principal cause of our unwillingness to admit that -one species has given birth to other and distinct species, is that -we are always slow in admitting any great change of which we do not -discern the intermediate steps. Just such a difficulty was felt by -many geologists when Lyell first insisted that long lines of inland -cliffs had been produced, and great valleys excavated, by the agencies -which are still at work in the earth. No effort of mind can adequately -grasp the meaning of even ten million of years, nor add up and perceive -the full effects of the many slight variations to which species have -been subjected during an almost infinite number of generations. The -day, however, is not distant, when mankind will have become just as -thoroughly convinced that species have been modified during a long -course of descent, mainly through the Natural Selection of innumerous -successive, slight and favorable variations as they are that the -attraction of gravitation is an important element in the maintenance of -the harmony that exists among the planetary spheres. That the law of -the attraction of gravity, which is perhaps the greatest discovery ever -made by man, is subversive of natural and revealed religion, which was -at one time maintained by a no more distinguished person than Leibnitz, -is now no longer objected to, even though its discoverer was unable -to explain what is the essence of the principle he had discovered. -No nobler conception of Deity could be entertained than that which -attributes to Him the creation of a few original forms capable of -self-development into other and needful forms, or the origination _de -novo_ of these simple forms from inorganic nature. It places a higher -estimate upon His Omnipotence than the belief that He required a fresh -act of creation to supply the voids caused by the action of His laws. -That science is as yet unable to throw any light on the far higher -problem of the essence or origin of life, should constitute no valid -objection to the theory of descent. - -When all beings are looked upon not as special creations, but as the -lineal descendants of some beings that existed long before the first -bed of ancient Siluria was deposited, they seem to become ennobled. -Judging from the past, we think it safe to conclude that no existing -species will transmit its unaltered likeness to a distant futurity. -Few, very few living species will transmit progeny of any kind, for the -manner in which all organisms are grouped shows that the majority of -species in each genus, and all the species in many genera, have left -no descendants, but have become utterly extinct. It will only be the -common and widely-spread species, belonging to the larger and dominant -groups within each class, that will ultimately prevail and procreate -new and dominant species. Since all the living forms of life are the -lineal descendants of forms that lived long anterior to the Silurian -epoch, it is reasonably certain that the ordinary succession by -generation has never once been broken, and that no cataclysmic disaster -has laid waste the entire world. Therefore, we may look into the future -with some confidence of an equally secure and inappreciably enduring -earth-life. And as Natural Selection operates solely by and for the -good of each being, all corporeal and mental endowments will tend to -progress toward perfection. - -When we contemplate a tangled bank, with innumerable plants of diverse -kinds, and many-voiced birds singing in concert, or waging destruction -on manifold insects that are flitting about, or the long, slimy -worm that has come up from its underground retreat, we are lost in -wonder and admiration, and can only reflect that these elaborately -constructed forms, so different from each other, and so strangely and -intricately dependent on each other, have all been evolved by laws that -act all around us. These are the laws of Growth with Reproduction; -Inheritance, which is almost implied by reproduction; Variability from -the action, direct and indirect, of the conditions of life, and from -use and disuse; a Ratio of Increase so high as to lead to a Struggle -for Existence, and as a consequence to Natural Selection, or Survival -of the Fittest, entailing thereby Divergence of Character and the -Extinction of less-improved forms. And thus, from the war of nature, -and from famine and death, have arisen the higher mammalia, in which -man, the _summa summarum_ of life, is included. He occupies the summit, -toward which the efforts of millions of buried ages seem to have been -tending. There is a grandeur in this view of life, with its several -powers, originally breathed, by the operation of the natural laws, into -one or a few forms of life, and that, while the earth, in obedience to -the fixed principle of gravitation, has gone cycling on, endless forms, -most beautiful and most wonderful, have been, and are being, evolved -from so simple a beginning. - -[Illustration: PALÆOLITHIC MEN ATTACKING CAVE BEAR. - -Mammoth, Woolly Rhinoceros, Musk-Sheep and Irish Stag in Background.] - -While thus it has been shown that life has been progressive, successive -forms of life being the result of modification through descent, those -faring the best in the Struggle for Existence surviving, by reason of -some advantage, physical or otherwise, gained over their competitors, -yet little, bearing specially upon man, has been expressed in this -chapter. After he had acquired those intellectual and moral faculties -which largely distinguish him from the lower animals in a state of -nature, he would have been but little liable to have his bodily -structure modified through Natural Selection or any other means, -for man is enabled, through his mental faculties, “to keep with an -unchanged body in harmony with the changing universe.” He has a most -wonderful power of adapting his habits to altered conditions of -life. Tools, weapons and various devices are invented by him for the -procurement of food and bodily defence. And when he migrates into a -colder climate, he uses clothes, builds sheds and makes fire, and by -its aid cooks food that would otherwise be indigestible. The lower -animals, however, must have their bodily structure modified in order -to survive under greatly changed conditions. They must be rendered -stronger, or acquire more effective teeth or claws, or both, if they -would successfully defend themselves from new enemies, or they must be -reduced in proportions, so as to escape detection and danger. When they -remove into colder climates they must become clothed in thicker fur, -or have their constitutions altered, for failure to be thus modified -must ultimately result in their ceasing to exist. But in the case of -man’s intellectual and moral faculties, as has been shown by Wallace, -it is widely different. These faculties are quite variable, and -there is reason to believe that the variations tend to be inherited. -Therefore, if they were formerly of high importance to palæolithic -man and his ape-like progenitors, they would have been perfected or -advanced through Natural Selection. But of the high importance of the -intellectual faculties there can be no question, for man owes to them -in a great measure his preëminent position in the world. It can be seen -that, in the rudest state of society, the individuals who were the most -sagacious, and who were the most skilful in the invention of weapons -or traps, and who were the best able to defend themselves, would rear -the greatest number of offspring, and that the tribes which included -the largest number of men possessed of such superior endowments would -increase in number and eventually supplant the other tribes. Numbers -depend primarily on the means of subsistence, and this on the physical -nature of the country, but in a much higher degree upon the arts -therein practised. As a tribe increases and is victorious, it is often -still further increased by the absorption of other tribes, and after -a time the tribes which are thus absorbed into another tribe assume, -as has been remarked by Mr. Maine in his “Ancient Law,” that they are -the co-descendants of the same ancestors. Stature and strength in the -men of a tribe are also of importance in its success, and these are -dependent in part upon the character and the quantity of food that can -be obtained. Men of the Bronze Period in Europe were supplanted by a -larger-handed and more powerful race, but their success was probably -due in a much higher degree to their superiority in the arts. All that -is known by savages, as inferred from their traditions and from old -monuments, shows that from the most remote times successful tribes -have supplanted others. Relics of extinct tribes have been found on -the wild plains of America and on the isolated islands in the Pacific -Ocean. Civilized nations are everywhere at the present time supplanting -barbarous peoples, excepting where climate opposes a fatal barrier, and -they thus succeed in a great measure, though not exclusively, through -the arts, which are the products of the intellect. With mankind, -then, it is highly probable that the intellectual faculties have been -gradually perfected through Natural Selection. Undoubtedly it would -have been interesting to have traced the development of each separate -faculty from the state in which it exists in the lower animals to -that in which it exists in man, but this would have been a task of -no easy accomplishment. As soon, however, as the progenitors of man -became social, and this probably occurred at a very early period, -the advancement of the intellectual faculties would have been aided -and modified in an important manner, for if one man in a tribe, more -sagacious than his fellows, had invented a new snare or a weapon, or -other means of attack or defence, the plainest self-interest, with no -great help of reasoning power, would have prompted the other members -to have imitated him, and thus all would have been profited. Habitual -practice of each new art must likewise in some slight degree strengthen -the intellect. If the new invention were an important one, the tribe -would increase in numbers, spread and supplant other tribes, and thus -rendered stronger numerically there would be a better chance of the -birth of other superior and inventive members. Should these last be so -fortunate as to leave children to inherit their mental superiority, the -chance of the birth of still more ingenious members would be somewhat -better, and in a very small tribe would be decidedly better. - -That primeval man, or his ape-like progenitors, should have become -social, they must have acquired the same instinctive feelings which -impel other animals to live in a body, and they doubtless exhibited -the same general disposition. When separated from their companions, -for whom they would have felt some degree of love, they would have -experienced a feeling of uneasiness. They would have warned each -other of danger, and have given mutual aid in attack or defence. All -this implies some degree of sympathy, fidelity and courage. Such -social qualities, whose paramount importance to the lower animals is -undisputed, were doubtless acquired by the progenitors of men in a -similar manner, namely, through Natural Selection, aided by inherited -habit. In the never-ceasing wars of savages, fidelity and courage are -all-important, and certainly when two tribes of primeval man, living -in the same country, came into competition, the one that contained -the greatest number of courageous, sympathetic and faithful members, -who were ever ready to warn each other of danger, and to assist and -defend each other, would without doubt succeed the best and conquer the -other. The advantage which disciplined soldiers have over undisciplined -hordes follows mainly from the confidence which each soldier has in -his comrades. Obedience is of the highest importance, for any form of -government is better than none. Selfish and contentious people will not -cohere, and without coherence nothing can be effected. Thus, a tribe -possessing these qualities in an eminent degree would spread and be -victorious over other tribes. But, in the course of events, or all past -history is a myth, this successful tribe would in its turn be overcome -by some other more highly-endowed tribe; and thus would the social and -moral qualities tend slowly to advance and be diffused throughout the -world. - -Praise and the blame of our fellow-men are much more powerful stimuli -to the development of the social qualities. These virtues are primarily -due to the instinct of sympathy, and this instinct, like all other -social instincts, was doubtlessly acquired through Natural Selection. -How early man’s progenitors, in the course of their development, became -capable of feeling and being impelled by the praise or blame of their -fellow-men, we are unable to say. Even dogs appreciate encouragement, -praise and blame, and it would be strange if such could not be -predicated of beings higher in the scale. The wildest savages feel the -sentiment of glory. This is clearly shown by their preservation of -the trophies of their bravery, by their habit of excessive boasting, -and even by the extreme care they take of their personal appearance -and adornments. Unless, however, they regarded the opinion of their -comrades, such habits would be without meaning and senseless. How far -the savage experiences remorse, is doubtful. He certainly feels shame -and contrition for the breach of some of the lesser rules of his tribe. -It is true that remorse is a deeply-hidden feeling, but it is hardly -credible that a being who will sacrifice his life rather than betray -his tribe, or give himself up as a prisoner rather than violate his -parole, would not feel remorse, though he might, if he failed in a duty -which he held sacred, hide it from view. - -Primeval man must have been, at a very remote time, influenced by -the praise and blame of his fellows. That the members of the same -tribe would approve of conduct that appeared for the general good, -and reprobate such as seemed to carry with it evil, there can be no -question. To do good unto others, or to do unto others as you would -that they should do unto you, is the foundation-stone of morality. -It is, therefore, hardly possible to place too high an estimate upon -the importance of the love of praise and fear of blame during rude, -barbaric times, for a man, who was not impelled by any profound -instinctive feeling to sacrifice his life for the good of others, but -who was raised to such a noble action by a sense of glory, would by his -example excite a similar wish for glory in the bosoms of other men, -and would thereby engender and strengthen by exercise the laudable -feeling of admiration. With increased experience and reason, those -more remote consequences of his actions, such as temperance, chastity, -etc., which during his very early times were utterly disregarded, would -come to be highly esteemed or even held sacred. And ultimately there -would have been developed from the social instincts a highly-complex -sentiment which, largely guided by the approbation of his fellow-men, -and ruled by reason, self-interest, and latterly by deep religious -feelings, confirmed by teaching and habit, would constitute his moral -sense or conscience. Although a high standard of morality gives but -little if any advantage to each individual man and his children over -the other men of the same tribe, yet it must be borne in mind that it -is an advancement in the standard of morality and an increase in the -number of well-endowed men that certainly give a telling advantage to a -tribe over another, for the tribe that includes many members who, from -possessing in an eminent degree the spirit of patriotism, fidelity, -obedience, courage and sympathy, and who were always prepared to give -aid to each other, and to sacrifice themselves for the common weal, -would be victorious over most other tribes. And this would be Natural -Selection. Tribes at all times throughout the world have supplanted -other tribes. Now, as morality is one element in their success, the -standard of morality and the number of well-endowed men will thus -everywhere tend to rise and increase. - -Very difficult it is to form any judgment why one particular tribe and -not another has been successful in the Struggle for Existence and has -risen in the scale of civilization. Many savages are still in the same -condition of degradation as when first discovered. The greatest part -of mankind has never evinced the slightest desire that their civil -institutions should be improved. Progress is not, as we are apt to -consider, the normal rule in human society. Many concurrent favorable -conditions, far too complex to be followed out, seem to determine -human progress. A cool climate, it has been remarked, by leading to -industry and the various arts, has been indispensable thereto, but if -the climate has been too severe, as in the Arctic regions, there is a -check to continual progress. Pressed by hard necessity, the Esquimaux -have succeeded in many ingenious inventions, but they can never attain, -for the reason already assigned, to any very great success. Nomadic -habits, whether along the shores of the sea, or over wide plains, or -through dense tropical forests, have in all cases proved detrimental. -Perhaps, the possession of some property, a fixed abode, and the union -of many families under a leader or chief, are indispensable requisites -for civilization, as such habits almost necessitate the cultivation -of the ground. From some such accident as the falling of the seeds -of a fruit-tree on a heap of refuse and producing an unusually fine -variety may probably have resulted the first steps in cultivation, -for if the fruit were profitable and good for food, it would be a -very dull intellect that could not readily perceive, especially among -a people that had given up a roving habit of life, the advantage -which would accrue from the planting of some more trees of a similar -kind. They would undoubtedly be led to cultivation for themselves by -a simple observation of the plan by which nature contrives in keeping -up a continuation of her many kinds of plants. Instead of dropping the -seeds upon the ground as nature is prone to do, and trusting to their -burial by accident or otherwise, seeing the advantage to be gained -by burying them out of the reach of noxious influences, whether of -climate or animal life, they would soon learn to take the matter of -planting under their own watchful care rather than leave it to the -seemingly thoughtless provision of nature. But the problem of the first -advance of palæolithic man toward civilization, is at present much too -difficult to be solved, for it involves the consideration of certain -elements which we know too little about, and their disentanglement -from others whose value is of recognized significance in the domain of -biological science. - -While it has been shown how it has been possible for primeval man -to have acquired a moral sense or conscience, yet it must not be -forgotten that the lower animals, at least such as have come under -the civilizing influence of man, have also come into possession of -the same highly complex sentiment which has been of such inestimable -service to man for his progressive advancement. Other faculties, such -as the powers of imagination, wonder, curiosity, an undefined sense of -beauty, a tendency to imitation, and the love of excitement or novelty, -have also been of immense importance in this direction, for they -could not fail to have led to the most capricious changes of customs -and fashions. Caprice, it has been rather oddly claimed by a recent -writer, is “one of the most remarkable and typical differences between -savages and brutes.” It is not only possible to perceive how it is -that man is capricious, but the lower animals, as has been previously -shown, are capricious in their affections, aversions and sense of -beauty. And there is good reason to suspect that they love novelty -for its own sake. Self-consciousness, individuality, abstraction, -general ideas, etc., which have been held by several recent writers -as making the sole and complete distinction between man and the -brutes, seem useless subjects for discussion, since hardly any two -authors agree in their definitions of these high faculties. In man, -such faculties could not have been fully developed until his mental -powers had advanced to a high state of perfection, and this implies -the use of a highly-developed language. No one supposes that one of -the lower animals reflects whence he comes or whither he goes, or what -is death or what is life, but can one feel sure that an old dog with -an excellent memory, and some power of imagination as shown by his -dreams, never reflects on his past pleasures in the chase? And this -would be a form of self-consciousness. On the contrary, as Büchner ably -remarks, how little can the hard-worked wife of an Australian savage -who scarcely uses any abstract words and whose ability to count does -not extend beyond four, exert her self-consciousness, or reflect on -the origin, nature and aim of her own existence. That animals retain -their mental individuality is unquestioned, for when any voice awakens -a train of old associations in the mind of some favorite dog, as in the -case of my dog Frisky, already referred to, he must have retained his -mental individuality, although every atom of his brain had probably -undergone change more than once during the five or six years he lived -in my family. Animals have some ideas of numbers. The crow has been -known to count as far as the number six, and a dog I once had knew as -well as I did when Saturday came. The sense of beauty, which has been -declared peculiar to man, is innate in birds. Certain bright colors and -certain sounds, when in harmony, excite in them pleasure as they do -in man. The taste for the beautiful, at least so far as female beauty -is concerned, is not of a special nature in the human mind, for it -differs widely in the different races of man, and is not quite the same -even in the different nations of the same race. If we are to judge -from the hideous ornaments and the equally hideous music admired by -most savages, it might be urged that their æsthetic faculty was less -highly developed than it is in some species of birds. No animal, it is -obvious, would be capable of admiring the nocturnal heaven, a beautiful -landscape, or refined music. And this should not be wondered at, for -such high tastes, dependent as they are upon culture and complex -associations, are not even enjoyed by barbarous or by uneducated -persons. - -Seeing that man in a state of nature has no preëminence above the -lower animals so far as his mental and moral qualities are concerned, -and in many instances ranks far below the so-called brute, let us -examine fora short time his religious nature. No evidence exists to -show that man was aboriginally endowed with the ennobling belief in the -existence of an Omnipotent God. On the contrary, ample evidence, not -from hasty travellers, but from men who have long resided with savages, -can be adduced to show that numerous races have existed, and still -exist, who have no idea of one or more gods, and who have no words in -their languages to express such an idea. If under the term religion -is included the belief in unseen or spiritual agencies, the case is -entirely different, for this belief seems to be almost universal -with the less civilized races. Nor is it difficult to understand how -it originated. With the development of the imagination, wonder and -curiosity, and of a moderate power of reasoning, man would naturally -have craved to understand what was going on around him, and even have -vaguely speculated on his own existence. According to McLennan man -must, in his efforts to arrive at some explanation of the phenomena -of life, feign for himself. Judging from the universality of this -life, the same author remarks that “the simplest hypothesis, and the -first to occur to men, seems to have been that natural phenomena are -ascribable to the presence in animals, plants and things, and in the -forces of nature, of such spirits prompting to action as men are -conscious they themselves possess.” Probably, as has been clearly shown -by Tyler, dreams may have first given rise to the notion of spirits. -Savages do not readily discriminate between subjective and objective -phenomena. When a savage dreams, the figures which appear in his vision -are believed to have come from a distance and to stand over him, or -the soul of the dreamer goes out on a journey and returns with a -remembrance of what has been seen. That tendency in savages to imagine -that natural objects and agencies are animated by living or spiritual -beings may be illustrated by a little fact which I have frequently -noticed. Standing on the corner of a street, waiting for a closed -snow-sweeper, which was driven by electricity, to pass, my attention -was directed to a young horse that was geared to a hansom. The horse -was at rest, and its driver, evidently awaiting some one, sat upon -the box. Upon the appearance of the sweeper the horse reared, turned -his face directly toward the object of his fear, pawed the pavement -in the most impatient manner possible, and then looked wistfully and -pleadingly at his master, as though imploring protection from some -fearful and gigantic monster. Another sweeper passed while I was -still in waiting, and the poor animal went through the same trying -and fearful ordeal as before. He must, I think, have reasoned in a -rapid and unconscious manner, that movement without any apparent cause -indicated the presence of some strange living agent, which was about -to do him some serious physical harm. Belief in spiritual agencies -would thus easily pass into a belief in the existence of one or more -gods, for savages would naturally ascribe to spirits the same passions, -the same line of vengeance or simple form of justice, and the same -affections which they themselves experienced. - -Religious devotion is a highly complex feeling. Love, complete -submission to an exalted and mysterious superior, a strong sense of -dependence, fear, reverence, gratitude, hope for the future and other -elements enter into its composition. No being could experience so -complex an emotion unless his intellectual and moral faculties had -attained a moderately high level. Some approach to this high state of -mind is visible in the profound love of a dog for his master, for it is -associated with complete submission, some fear, reverence, gratitude -and perhaps other feelings. A dog’s behavior towards his master, after -a long absence, is widely different from that which he shows towards -his fellows, for his transports of joy in the latter case are less -intense, and his every action savors of a mere sense of equality. But -upon his master, as Prof. Braubach goes so far as to maintain, he looks -as on a god. - -These high mental faculties, which first led man to believe in unseen -spiritual agencies, and subsequently in fetishism, polytheism and -monotheism, would infallibly lead him, as long as his reasoning powers -remained at a very low level, to various strange superstitions and -customs, many of which, such as the sacrifice of human beings to a -blood-loving god and the trial of innocent persons by the ordeal of -poison or fire, are too terrible to contemplate. It is well, however, -to reflect occasionally on these superstitions, for they show us what -an infinite debt of gratitude we owe to improved reason, science and -accumulated knowledge. How much better is the life of civilized man -than that of the savage, for as Lubbock has well remarked, “it is not -too much to say that the horrible dread of unknown evil hangs like a -thick cloud over savage life, and embitters every pleasure.” - -From the opinions advanced, it is evident that the belief in God has -been the ultimate outcome of belief in unseen spiritual agencies. -There has been a gradual leading up through fetishism and polytheism -to monotheism. If religion implies belief in unseen agencies, as -well as belief in a personal agency in the universe strong enough to -influence conduct in any degree, then it is obvious that there has been -a progressive advancement in religious thought, each succeeding form -of religion by its superior advantages over its predecessor tending -to supplant it wherever and whenever its beneficent influences are -felt. It is true that fetishism and polytheism still prevail among -rude, uncultured peoples, as well as the worship of false deities -and prophets, but with the spread of the civilizing and elevating -influence of Christianity these religions in the fitness of time -will disappear. Christianity, from its foundation in Judaism, has -throughout been a religion of sacrifice and sorrow. It has been a -religion of blood and tears, and yet one of profoundest happiness to -its votaries. While fakirs hang on hooks, and pagans cut themselves and -even their children, for the sake of propitiating diabolical deities, -yet Christianity, which has its roots in Judaism, has no need for such -practices. It is _par excellence_ the religion of sorrow, because -it reaches to truer and deeper levels of our spiritual nature, and -therefore has capabilities both of sorrow and joy which are presumably -non-existent except in civilized man. They are the sorrows and joys -which arise from the fully-developed consciousness of sin against a -God of Love, as distinguished from propitiation of malignant spirits. -These joys and sorrows are wholly spiritual, not merely physical. “Thou -desirest no sacrifice.” God’s only sacrifice at the hands of sinful man -is a troubled spirit. - -Estimated by the influence which He has exerted on mankind, there can -be no question, even from a secular point of view, that Christ is much -the greatest man who has ever lived. That the revolution which His -teachings have effected in human life is immeasurable and unparalleled -by any other movement in history is unquestioned. Though most nearly -approached by the religion of the Jews, of which it is a development, -so that it may be regarded as of a piece with it, it is evident that -this whole system of religion is so immeasurably in advance of all -others that it may be truthfully said, if it had not been for the -Jews, the human race would have had no religion worthy of serious -consideration. Had it not been for this religion man’s spiritual side -would not have been developed in civilized life. And although there are -numberless individuals who are all unconscious of its development in -themselves, yet these have been influenced to an enormous extent by the -religious atmosphere by which they are surrounded. - -Not only is Christianity so immeasurably in advance of all other -religions, but it is no less of every other system of thought that has -ever been promulgated in regard to what is moral and spiritual. Neither -philosophy, science nor poetry has ever produced results in thought, -conduct or beauty in any degree comparable with it. What has science -or philosophy done for the thought of mankind compared with what has -been done by the single doctrine, “God is love?” The Story of the -Cross, from its commencement in prophetic aspiration to its culmination -in the Gospel, is preëminently the most magnificent presentation in -literature. Only to a man wholly destitute of religious perception can -Christianity fail to appear the greatest exhibition of the beautiful, -the sublime, and of all else that appeals to our spiritual nature, -which has ever been known upon the earth. It is not only adapted to men -of the highest culture, but the most remarkable thing about it is its -perfect adaptation to all sorts and conditions of men. Its problems, -historical and philosophical, open up to you worlds of material, over -which you may spend your life with the same interminable interest as -the student meets in the fields of natural science. - -Whatever our theory of the origin of man, there can be no doubt that -we all feel that his intellectual part is higher than the animal; and -that the moral is higher than the intellectual, whatever our theory -of either may be; and that the spiritual is higher than the moral, -whatever our theory of religion may be. It is what is understood by his -moral, and still more by his spiritual qualities, that make up what is -called his character, and, astonishing to say, it is character that -tells in the long run. Morality and spirituality are two different -things, for a man may be highly moral in conduct without being in any -degree spiritual in nature, and the reverse, though to a less extent. -Objectively, the same distinction subsists between morals and religion. -Intellectual pleasures are more satisfying and enduring than sensual, -or even sensuous; and spiritual, to those who have experienced them, -than intellectual, an objective fact, abundantly testified to by those -who have had experience, which seems to indicate that the spiritual -nature of man is the highest part of man--the culminating point of his -being. That there will always be materialists and spiritualists, as -Renan says, is probably true, inasmuch as it will always be observable -on the one hand that there is no thought without brain, while, on the -other hand, the instincts of man will always aspire to higher beliefs. -If religion is true, and life is a state of probation, this is just -what ought to be. It is not probable that the materialistic position, -which is discredited even by philosophy, is due simply to custom and a -want of imagination. Else why the inextinguishable instincts which we -have thus shown to exist? - -[Illustration: ERA OF MIND AND HEART. - -Things as They Will Exist in a Future Earth-Life.] - -Evolution, not only of the earth, but of its organic machinery, by -natural causes, is now no longer doubted. That this has taken place -by degrees is equally unquestioned. Now, if there is a Deity, the -fact is certainly of the nature of a first principle, and it must be -first of all first principles. No one can dispute this, nor can any -one dispute the necessary conclusion that, if there be a Deity, he is -knowable, if knowable at all, by intuition and not by reason. From -its very nature, as a little thought is sufficient to show, reason is -utterly incapable of adjudicating on the subject, for it is a process -of inferring from the known to the unknown. It would be against -reason itself to suppose that Deity, even if He exists, can be known -by reason. He must be known, if knowable at all, by intuition. If -there is a Deity, then it seems to be in some indefinite degree more -probable that He should impart a Revelation than that He should not -have done so. As a mere matter of evidence, a sudden revelation might -be much more convincing than a gradual one, but it would be quite out -of analogy with causation in nature. Besides, a gradual one might be -given easily, and of demonstrative value, as by making prophecies of -historical events, scientific discoveries and other things so clear as -to be unmistakable. But a demonstrative revelation has not been made, -and there may well be good reasons why it should not have been made. -If there are such reasons, as, for example, our state of probation, we -can well see “that the gradual unfolding of a plan of revelation, from -earliest dawn of history to the end of the world, is much preferable -to a sudden manifestation sufficiently late in the world’s history to -be historically attested for all subsequent time.” Gradual evolution, -as has been said before, is in analogy with God’s other work. If -Revelation has been of a progressive character, then it follows that it -must have been so not only historically, but intellectually, morally -and spiritually, for in such sequence could it be always adapted to the -advancing conditions of the human race. - -Thus it will be seen that all through the ages some mighty influence -has been at work, directly or indirectly, in preparing this earth -by slow and gradual changes for a steadily progressive succession -of vegetable and animal life. That life best fitted to meet new and -changing conditions of environment being preserved by a process of -natural selection. And from a few primordial types, far simpler than -the lowest of existing structureless moners, or from some living -protoplasmic mass, elaborated by some form of energy acting upon -inorganic nature, there have been evolved in the millions of years of -earth-life our existing flora and fauna. Man, the pinnacle of animal -life, has come up through the life that preceded him, and bears in the -history of his development from the ovum to the adult state the line -of his descent. Not only has his physical nature been evolved through -the action of natural laws impressed upon living matter by Deity, but -that subtle principle, termed mind, which has attained such a wonderful -growth in his civilized condition, is but the outcome of the mind of -a long line of life antecedent to his appearance on the globe. His -moral nature was similarly acquired, and most probably in the manner -already explained. Palæolithic man, like the Australian of to-day, was, -as has been shown, but little superior in intelligence to some of the -animals with whom he was contemporaneous. He lived the life of the mere -animal, and as an animal could be said to have had no preëminence above -a beast. Like the latter, he was a living, breathing frame, or body of -life; a _living_, but not an _everliving_, soul. In time, as conditions -became favorable, he passed _into_ the moral stage of his being, but -not without increased intellectuality, and would thus have continued, -but going on and adding to his mental and moral possessions, had not -Deity, in the fitness of time, prepared the way through Christ, whereby -his corruptible nature should be made incorruptible and immortal. -Unless man is “born of the spirit” he cannot inherit the kingdom of -God. He must be “changed into spirit,” put on incorruptibility and -immortality of body, or he will be physically incapable of retaining -the honor, glory and power of the kingdom forever, or even during -Christ’s reign of a thousand years upon earth. - -That there is a distinction between _a living soul_ and a _spiritual -body_ cannot be questioned. Speaking about _body_, the apostle Paul -says, “there is _a natural body_, and there is _a spiritual body_, -but he does not content himself with simply declaring this truth, but -goes further and proves it by quoting the language of Moses, saying, -“for so it is written, the first man Adam was made into _a living -soul_;” and then adding, “the last Adam _into a spirit_ giving life.” -And in another place, speaking of the latter, he says of Him, “now -the Lord is the spirit. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding -as in a mirror, the glory of the Lord, are changed into His image -from glory into glory, as by _the Lord the Spirit_.” Therefore, the -proof of the apostle’s proposition, that there is a _natural body_ as -distinct from a _spiritual body_, lies in the testimony that “Adam was -made into _a living soul_,” showing that he considered a natural, or -animal body, and a living soul, as one and the same thing. If he did -not, then there was no proof in the quotation of what he affirmed. -Mortality, then, is life manifested through a corruptible body, and -immortality is life manifested through an incorruptible body. Hence, -the necessity laid down in the saying of the apostle, “this corruptible -body must put on incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality,” -before death can be “swallowed up in victory,”--a doctrine of “life -and incorruptibility” that was new to the Greeks and Romans, and -brought to light only through the gospel of the kingdom and name of -Jesus Christ. To them it was foolishness, and to many at the present -day incredible, because they do not understand the glad tidings of -the age to come. God could have created all things upon a spiritual -or incorruptible basis at once, but in that case the globe would have -been filled with men and women equal to the angels in nature, power -and intellect, and hence would have been without a history, and its -population characterless. And this would not have been according to -His plan, for in it the animal must precede the spiritual just as -surely as the acorn must precede the oak. The Bible has to do with -things and not with imaginations; with bodies and not phantasms; with -_living souls_ of every species; with _corporeal_ beings of other -worlds, and with incorruptible and undying men, but is as silent as -the grave about such _souls_ as men pretend to cure. For the sons of -Adam to become sons of God, they must be the subjects of an adoption, -which is attainable only by a divinely appointed means. It must be by a -process of selection. “Since by a man came death, by a man also came a -resurrection of dead persons. For as in the Adam they all die, so also -in the Christ shall they all be made alive. But every one in his order. -Christ the first fruits; afterward _they that are Christ’s_ at His -coming.” Here it is obvious that the apostle is not writing of all the -individuals of the human race, but only such that become the subject -of _a pardon of life_. It is true that all men do die, but it is not -true that they are all the subject of pardon. Those who are pardoned -are “the many,” who are sentenced to live forever. The sentence to -pardon of life is through Jesus Christ who in pouring out His blood -upon the cross, was made a sacrifice for sin. “He was delivered for our -offences, and raised again for our justification,” that is, for the -pardon of those _who believe the gospel_. As it is written, “he that -believeth the gospel, and is baptized, shall be saved.” Hence, “_the -obedience of faith_” is made the condition of righteousness, and this -obedience implies the existence of a “_law of faith_,” as attested -by that of Moses, which is “_the law of works_.” Having believed the -gospel and been baptized, such a person is required to “walk worthy of -the vocation,” or calling, “wherewith he has been called,” that by so -doing he may be “accounted worthy” of being “born of spirit,” that he -may become “spirit,” or a spiritual body, and so enter the kingdom of -God, crowned with “glory, honor, incorruptibility and life.” From all -the above, it must be obvious to the unbiassed mind, that all will not -arise to newness of life, “for as many of you, as have been _baptized -into Christ_ have put on Christ, and if ye be Christ’s, _then_ are -ye the seed of Abraham, and _heirs_ according to the promise.” When -they have been thus baptized, then they have received the spirit of -adoption, or have been elected into God’s family, and then they can -address God as their Father who is in heaven. - -Thus adopted into God’s family through faith in Jesus Christ, it must -not be supposed that they have attained to that perfect condition of -knowing all that is to be known. New glories will continually open -up to their admiring vision, and new facts be revealed through the -eternity of futurity. Man will carry his earth-acquired knowledge into -the other world, and little by little will he add to his fund. Those -who have made the best of their time in their probationary existence, -will rank as much above their fellows in the heaven-life as they -did in the earth-life, and like the others will reach up to higher -acquirements. There will be no equalization of talents, capacities -and possessions, but each will be satisfied with his own, and all -will endeavor to be as like unto Christ as the conditions of their -heavenly environment will permit. There will be grades of ability and -character in the new life, but all of the very highest standard when -measured by what prevails in the earth-life. This is the teaching of -the Scriptures. “_There is_ one glory of the sun, and another glory of -the moon, and another glory of the stars; for _one_ star differeth from -_another_ star in glory. So also _is_ the resurrection of the dead.” - -Now as to the part that animals and plants shall figure in the new -existence. Revelation, as has been seen, was given to man. This does -not imply that the lower forms of life were not made “partakers of -the divine nature.” When man was placed upon this earth, or rather -when in the sequence of events, which was brought about by the -prescribed scheme of Divinity, he appeared upon the earth, he was -given the control of all the creatures of God’s hands, to rule them -as his judgment seemed best. They were a necessary part of the plan -of creation. God gave the man directions concerning them, and what -they are, and we refer to the domesticated species especially, they -have thus been made through man’s wise, intelligent and thoughtful -selection. This has been the instrument through which God has worked -in building up a history and a character for the humbler works of His -hands. That they shall pass into the future life with him, at least -such as have shown their fitness to endure, there can be no doubt -in the mind of any one who pauses a few brief moments in the rush -and turmoil of everyday life and considers the matter with all due -seriousness. All existence, as we have elsewhere claimed, is a unit. -All life, like all love, is divine. There can nothing exist that does -not contain some sort of development of soul. There is no escape from -this assertion. Instead of isolating ourselves then from the humbler -creatures of God’s workmanship, let us recognize them as our kin and -include them in the grand scheme of redemption, and as partakers with -us in the future state of Divine Love and in higher and endlessly -higher development and progress. - - - - -MAN’S PREËMINENCE. - - -There is a popular tradition that somewhere in the Scriptures we are -taught that of all living denizens of the earth, man alone possesses -a spirit, and that he alone survives in spirit after the death of the -material body. Were this the truth, no room would exist for argument -to those who profess belief in a literal rendering of the Scriptures, -and who base their faith upon that literal belief. However much such a -statement might seem to controvert all ideas of benevolence, justice -and common-sense, such believers would feel bound to accept it on -trust, and to wait a future time for its full comprehension. - -Even the possession of reason is denied by many persons to animals, -their several actions being ascribed to the power of instinct, and it -is therefore not the least bit strange that all but a comparatively -few should believe that when an animal dies, its life-principle dies -too. The animating power, they claim, is annihilated, while the body -is resolved into its constituent elements so as to take form in other -bodies. - -Two passages of Scripture, one in the Psalms and the other in -Ecclesiastes, are almost entirely, if not wholly, responsible for -this belief. The former, which runs in the authorized version, -“Nevertheless, man being in honor, abideth not; he is like the beasts -that perish,” is that which is generally quoted as decisive of the -whole question. “Man, being in honor, hath no understanding, but is -compared to the beasts that perish” is another translation, but differs -not materially from the other. The second passage referred to from -Ecclesiastes, reads: “Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, -and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?” Now, -it is upon the strength of these two passages that we are called upon -to believe that when a beast dies its life, like that of an expired -lamp, goes out forever. Nothing is more dangerous in the exposition of -Scripture than attempting to explain a passage, however simple it may -seem to be, without reference to the original text, for the translator -may have mistaken the true sense of the words, or he may have -inadequately expressed their signification, or, owing to a change in -meaning, the words of a passage may now bear an exactly contrary sense -to that conveyed when they were first written. - -But laying aside this point for the present, and accepting the passage -as it stands, as well as the literal meaning of the words as generally -understood, there can be no doubt that we must believe that beasts are -not possessed of immortal life. If, however, we are to take the literal -sense of the Bible, and no other, we are equally forced to believe that -man has no life after death. The book of Psalms is full of examples. -Let us take a few from the many that might be given: “In death there -is no remembrance of thee: in the grave, who shall give thee thanks?” -“The dead praise not the Lord, neither any that go down into silence.” -“His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; in that very day -his thoughts perish.” Taken solely in their literal sense, there can -be no doubt of their meaning. Nothing more gloomy, dreary or more -despondent can be found in the entire range of heathen literature than -these passages, and others that might be quoted from the inspired -Psalmist, in the contemplation of death. In the very book from which -the single passage was taken, which is claimed to deny immortality to -the lower animals, there are five times as many passages that proclaim -the same sad end to the life of man. We are distinctly and definitely -told therein that those who have died have no remembrance of God, -and cannot praise Him. Death has been spoken of as the “land of -forgetfulness”--the place of darkness, where all man’s thoughts perish. -Certainly no more than this can be said of the “beasts that perish.” - -Other holy writers make similar affirmations. Speaking of mankind in -general, who “dwell in houses of clay,” Job says: “They are destroyed -from morning to evening; _they perish forever_, without any regarding -it.” Again he says, and the passage is more definite than the -preceding: “As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that -goeth down to the grave shall come up no more.” And still again: “Man -dieth, and wasteth away: yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is -he? As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth -up: so man lieth down, and riseth not.” Chapters III and X tell of the -piteous lamentations of Job over his life, wherein he complains that he -ever was born, that existence was ever given to him, that he was ever -taken from a state of absolute nonentity, and that even death itself -can bring no relief to his miseries except extinction. - -Turning to Ecclesiastes, in which book occurs the solitary passage -which is held to disprove a future existence to the lower animals, -there are passages which are even more emphatic as to the immortality -of man. Read what is declared: “I said in my heart concerning the -estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they -might see that they themselves are beasts. For that which befalleth the -sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them. As the -one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath, so that -a man has no preëminence over a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto -one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.” Further it -is said: “For the living know that they shall die, but the dead know -not anything, neither have they any more a reward, for the memory of -them is forgotten.” “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy -might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in -the grave whither thou goest.” Literally interpreted, no one can doubt -the import of these words from Ecclesiastes, for they definitely state -that, as regards a future life, there is no distinction between man and -beast, and that when they die they all go to the same place. It is also -distinctly stated that after death man can do no work, know nothing, -nor receive any reward. Were we to deduce our ideas of the condition -of man after death from the irrepressibly sad and gloomy passages from -Job and Ecclesiastes, most deplorable and hopeless would be the very -thought of dissolution. But we do not accept them in this light. They -are written symbolically, and there underlies them a spiritual sense. -It is not, however, the latter sense that concerns us at present, but -the literal meaning of the translation, and, according to that literal -meaning, if we take two texts to prove that beasts have no future life, -we are compelled by no less than fourteen passages to believe that man, -in common with beasts, has no better prospect. We have no right to say -which passages are to be taken literally, and which parabolically, -but must apply the same test to all alike, and treat all in a similar -manner. - -All classical readers are familiar with that wonderful eleventh book of -Homer’s Odyssey, called the Necyomanteia, or Invocation of the Dead, in -which Ulysses is depicted as descending into the regions of departed -spirits for the purpose of invoking them and obtaining advice as to his -future adventures. Dreary, and horrible indeed, are the revelations -which the whole of the strange history makes of the condition of the -future life. All is wild and dark, and hunger, thirst and discontent -prevail. Nothing is heard of elysian fields, where piety, wisdom and -virtue abound. Gloom, misery and vain regrets for earth pervade the -entire episode. When is considered this heathen poet’s ideas concerning -the future state of man, it is no wonder that sensual pleasures should -be held as the principal object of his life when he is to look forward -to such a future, a future from which neither wisdom, nor virtue, -nor piety could save him, and where there is nothing but an eternity -of gloom, remorse and hopeless despondency. Sad as this picture is, -yet it is far brighter than that of the Psalmist, the Preacher, or -Job. Those who have passed into the world of spirits still retain -their individuality after death, being distinguished in the spirit as -they had been in the flesh. Memory survives the body’s death. Naught -of their earthly career is forgotten. They still have an interest -in their friends that remain in the body whom they love, and over -whose well-being they unceasingly watch. No such consolation, as has -been described, exists in the future state of man if the passages of -Scripture that have been quoted are taken in a literal sense. Man, in -that event, passes at death into a place of darkness, forgetfulness and -silence, where there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, -and where even his very thoughts perish. No other interpretation, if -taken literally, can be put upon them, for the statements are too -explicit to be explained away or softened. - -In the outward sense of their writings the Psalmist, Job and the -Preacher are on an equality with Horace in their absolute unbelief in -a future existence, and in a consequent desire to snatch what fleeting -pleasures they can from earth before the inexorable law of fate -consigns them to dark oblivion. Startling as it may seem to compare the -teachings of a Greek idolater and of a Latin Epicurean heathen with -those of sacred writers, yet it is still more startling to show that -the teachings of the Epicurean sensualist are not a whit wiser than -those of the Scriptural writer, while those of the Greek poet are very -much better. Such, however, is the fact, and, if we are to be bound by -the literal interpretation of the Scriptures, there is no possibility -of denying it without doing violence to reason and common-sense. - -We are now brought face to face with the point previously mentioned. -Does the authorized version give a full and correct interpretation of -the original? It is claimed that it does not. The word “perish,” it is -said, does not occur at all in the Hebrew text, nor is even the idea -expressed. No such translation as “beasts that perish,” which appears -twice in our version, is justified by the Hebrew, the words of the -original implying “dumb beasts.” The idea of perishing, in the sense -of annihilation, does not seem to be implied. Let us take the Jewish -Bible, which is acknowledged to be the best and closest translation -in the English language, and examine it. Both in verses 12 and 20 of -Psalm XLIX, where the passage occurs, the rendering reads: “Man _that -is_ in honor, and understandeth _this_ not, is like the beasts _that -are_ irrational.” As an alternative reading for “irrational,” the word -“dumb” is given in a footnote. A somewhat similar reading is found in -the Septuagint, which, according to Brunton, runs as follows: “Man that -is in honor understands not; he is compared to the senseless cattle, -and is like them.” In Wycliffe’s Bible, which is a translation from -the Vulgate, the passage is rendered: “A man whanne he was in honour -understood not; he is comparisoned to unwise beestis, and is maad lijk -to tho.” The “Douay” Bible, made by the English Roman Catholic College -of Douay, and which is the version accepted by that branch of the -Church in England, renders the passage: “Man, when he was in honor, -did not understand; he hath been compared to senseless beasts and made -like to them.” Numerous other translations might be adduced, and it is -safe to say that scarcely any of them imply the idea of perishing in -the sense of being reduced to nothing. Even supposing that the word -“perish” is translated correctly, it does not therefore follow that -annihilation is meant. Take the tenth verse of the same Psalm in our -authorized version: “For he seeth that wise men die, and likewise the -fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others.” -Surely no sensible, intelligent person would construe this passage -into a declaration that the wise and fool and brutish had no existence -after the death of the body. - -That the last verse of the Psalm is a summary of the whole poem, -seems not improbable. A vivid picture of the true object of man’s -life in this world is drawn by the Psalmist, and also of his tendency -to lose sight thereof. In it he sets forth the shortness of human -existence, and shows that neither riches, station in life, nor fame, -which appertain to the mere earthly career of man, can endure after -his death. He, therefore, reasonably concludes that men who fix -their hearts upon these earthly vanities ignore the honor of their -manhood, and degrade themselves to the plane of the dumb beasts, whose -operations are, as far as we know, restricted to this present world. - -From what has been adduced it will at once be evident that the idea -that beasts are said by the Psalmist to have no future life may be -dismissed from our minds, and that the passage may be rejected as -totally irrelevant to the subject. This is of the greatest importance, -as the passage in question is the only one which even appears to make -any definite statement as to the condition of the lower animals after -death. Every reasonable person will now see how essential it is that -the true meaning of the Hebrew text should be known, and that the -Psalmist should not be charged with the introduction of a doctrine to -which, whether true or false, he makes not the slightest reference. - -Having settled beyond the possibility of refutation the true meaning -implied by the “beasts that perish,” we will now turn to the passage in -Ecclesiastes, which, as has been seen, is the only one which contains -any direct reference to the future of the lower orders of animal -existence: “Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the -spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?”--exclaimeth the -Preacher. Here we have an admission that, whether the spirit ascend or -descend, both man and beasts do have spirits, and these are undoubtedly -the same in essence, for the Hebrew word is identical is both cases. -In the Jewish Bible the rendering is _verbatim_ the same as that of -our authorized version. Read, instead of an isolated verse, the entire -passage:-- - -“I said in mine heart concerning the estate of the sons of men, that -God might manifest them, and that they might see that they themselves -are beasts. - -“For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even the -one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, -they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preëminence above a -beast: for all is vanity. - -“All go to one place; all are of the same dust, and all turn to dust -again. - -“Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the -beast that goeth downward to the earth? - -“Wherefore I perceive that _there_ is nothing better than that a man -should rejoice in his own works; for that _is_ his portion; for who -shall bring him to see what shall be after him?” - -Every page of Ecclesiastes breathes of the self-reproach of the -Preacher for a wasted life. Speaking from his own sad, bitter -experience, he shows that riches, glory, pleasure and even wisdom are -nothing but utter emptiness. The same theme pervades the forty-ninth -Psalm, but the Psalmist treats it with grave solemnity, admonishing -his hearers of the shortness of human life, and showing that if a -man forgets the glory of his manhood, made in the image of God, he -puts himself on the level of the dumb brutes. Though reaching the -same conclusion, yet the Preacher views the subject from a different -standpoint. Employing biting sarcasm rather than solemn warning, he -exposes the vanity of all worldly and selfish pleasures, and the -miserable fate that awaits the voluptuary, and then ironically advises -his readers to place in such their entire happiness. - -So palpable is the bitter irony of the author throughout the book, -and even in the twenty-first verse of the third chapter, yet by no -manner of interpretation can this specialized text be made to mean that -beasts are annihilated after death, while men rise again and soar above -earthly things to honor and glory. Ironically the writer assumes in -it that his readers do not know the difference between the spirit of -man and that of beast, and, reasoning from that position, advises them -that “_there is_ nothing better for a man _than that_ he should eat and -drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labor.” - -From what has been shown, it is evident that the passage from Psalms -does not even contain the idea of annihilation as regards beasts, and -that the one from Ecclesiastes is entirely misapprehended. That they -have no bearing upon the subject must now be manifest. We cannot, -therefore, resist the conclusion that the Scriptures do not deny future -life to the inferior animals. - -This admission gives courage for a step still further forward. Man’s -latest achievement is to conceive that all existence is a unit. One -spirit pervades the whole natural world, an emanation from the Spirit -of Him who sitteth enthroned in the Eternal Heavens, and who not only -is, as Moses declares, “God of the spirits of all flesh,” but God of -the spirits of all animate nature. We cannot divorce the two great -kingdoms of nature. If there is a futurity of existence for man, whom -we are told was “made a little lower than the angels,” but who in -these latter days seems to have deteriorated, and who in thousands -of instances displays a character far less noble and honorable than -that of the dog which he kennels and feeds, then there must be for -the so-called brute, the companion of his joys and his sorrows. If -for beast, bird, reptile, fish and insect, and none can be so foolish -in the face of the most indubitable evidence to deny it, then there -must be for tree, shrub and flower, for God, who is infinite in love, -mercy and charity, would not be God if solely concerned with the future -of the smallest fractional part of His children. Man is psychically -related to all life. There is soul, in some sort of development, in -everything; and certainly God meant in His grand scheme of redemption -to lift the world, not a portion of it, but the entire world, out of -its lower ideas into its higher beauties and realities. - - - - -FUTURE LIFE. - - -That the Scriptures, contrary to popular tradition, do not deny a -future life to the lower animals has already been conclusively shown. -But do they declare anything in favor of another world for beast as -well as for man? This is a question which we shall now endeavor to -answer. As to man’s immortality, the Old Testament Scriptures teach the -doctrine by inference rather than by direct assertion, for the reason, -as has been presumed, that the writers of the several books, which were -selected at a comparatively late period from among many others and -formed into the volume popularly designated the Bible, assumed as a -matter of course that man was immortal, and therefore did not concern -themselves about a matter which they supposed everybody knew. But as -far as the Old Testament goes, inference tells more strongly in favor -of the beast’s immortality than that of man. Although in either case -there does not appear to be any definite assertion of a futurity of -existence, yet there is no such denial of the immortality of the beast -as has already been shown in the case of the man. - -Beasts, as readers of the Old Testament only too well know, were -included in the merciful provision of the Sabbath, which, in its -essence, was a spiritual and not simply a physical ordinance. And, -again, we find many provisions in the ancient Scriptures against -maltreating the lower animals, or giving them unnecessary pain, and -these provisions stand side by side in the Divine Law with those which -apply to man. All are familiar with the prohibition of “seething a kid -in its mother’s milk,” and the non-muzzling of the ox in treading out -the corn lest he should suffer the pangs of hunger in the presence of -the food which he may not eat. Even bird’s nesting was regulated by -Divine Law. “If a bird’s nest chance to be before thee in the way in -any tree, or on the ground, _whether they_ be young ones, or eggs, -and the dam sitting upon the young, or upon the eggs, thou shalt not -take the dam with the young: _But_ thou shalt in any wise let the dam -go, and take the young to thee; that it may be well with thee, and -_that_ thou mayest prolong _thy_ days.” Moreover, as many animals must -be killed daily, some for sacrifice and others solely for food, the -strictest regulations were enjoined that their death should be sharp -and quick, and that the whole of their blood should be poured out upon -the ground lest they suffer lingering pain. - -In keeping with the same consideration felt by Deity towards the kid -and ox and bird, as expressed in the Law, we would refer to the few -concluding sentences of the Book of Jonah:-- - -“Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which thou hast not labored, -neither madest it grow; which came up in a night, and perished in a -night. - -“And should I not spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than -six score thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand -and their left hand; _and also much cattle_?” - -“Every beast of the forest is mine,” saith the Lord, “and the -cattle upon a thousand hills.” And again, “I know all the fowls of -the mountains: and the wild beasts of the field are mine.” Similar -passages, in which God announces himself as the protector of the beast -as well as of man, could be given, for the Scriptures are full of them. -Who does not recall the well-known saying of our Lord respecting the -lives of the sparrows: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and -one of them shall not fall on the ground without the notice of your -Father.” - -Cowper in his “Task,” makes allusion to this branch of our subject in -the following lines:-- - - “Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, - But God will never. When He charged the Jew - To assist his foe’s down-fallen beast to rise; - And when the bush-exploring boy, that seized - The young, to let the parent-bird go free; - Proved He not plainly that His meaner works, - Are yet His care, and have an interest all-- - All in the universal Father’s love?” - -One passage there is which certainly does point to a future for the -beast as well as for man, and which places them both on the very same -plane. It is found in Genesis, ninth chapter and fifth verse, and -constitutes a part of the law which was delivered to Noah, and which -was subsequently incorporated in the fuller law given through Moses. -“And surely your blood of your lives will I require,” said God to Noah -and his sons, “at the hand of every beast will I require it, and at the -hand of every man; at the hand of every man’s brother will I require -the life of man.” In Exodus, chapter twenty-one and twenty-eighth -verse, we read, “If an ox gore a man or a woman, that they die: then -the ox shall be surely stoned, and his flesh shall not be eaten; but -the owner of the ox _shall be_ quit.” - -While there are no passages of Scripture, as has been seen, which deny -immortality of life to the lower animals, yet there are certainly some -which tend to show it by inference. But the Scriptures were written for -human beings, and not for the lower animals, and therefore it could -hardly be expected that any information could be gained therefrom on -the subject. As we find so few direct references to the future state -of man, it is not at all to be expected that we should receive direct -instruction upon the after-life of the beast. - -But just as man has had within himself for untold ages an intuitive -witness to his own immortality, yet there are those, lovers and -friends of the so-called brute, who have an instinctive sense that -animals, some of whom surpass in love, unselfishness, generosity, -conscience and self-sacrifice many of their human brethren, must share -with him in addition to these virtues an immortal spirit in which they -take their rise. No more eminent personage than Bishop Butler was a -believer in this idea. Substantially he asserts that the Scriptures -give no reasons why the lower animals should not possess immortal -souls. Similar sentiments have been voiced by equally distinguished -writers. - -Southey, writing of the death of a favorite spaniel that had been the -companion of his boyhood, says:-- - - “Ah, poor companion! when thou followedst last - Thy master’s parting footsteps to the gate - Which closed forever on him, thou didst lose - Thy best friend, and none was left to plead - For the old age of brute fidelity. - But fare thee well. Mine is no narrowed creed; - And He who gave thee being did not frame - The mystery of Life to be the sport - Of merciless man. There is another world - For all that live and move--a better one! - Where the proud bipeds, who would fain confine - Infinite Goodness to the little bounds - Of their own charity, may envy thee.” - -Thus does Lamartine, in “Jocelyn’s Episode,” beautifully express -himself in addressing a faithful and affectionate canine by the name of -Fido:-- - - “I cannot, will not, deem thee a deceiving, - Illusive mockery of human feeling, - A body organized, by fond caress - Warmed into seeming tenderness; - A mere automaton, on which our love - Plays, as on puppets, when their wires we move. - No! when that feeling quits thy glazing eye, - ’Twill live in some blest world beyond the sky.” - -Not by man alone have these higher qualities been accorded to the -brute. Women have praised the good within the lower animals, and been -quite as willing to share with them the benefits of an immortal life. -Eugenie de Guérin, a woman distinguished for her devotional piety, -and an author of no mean repute, was, like the most of her sex, quite -passionately fond of pets. Hers was a turtle-dove. Its voice was -the first to greet her in the morning. There was a pleasure in its -soft, gentle cooings, as they fell upon her ear, that sent a sweet -consolation to her busy, thinking soul. But the time came at last when -she must part with her treasure. The morn dawned bright, an August -morning, and the bird was well and happy, but, with the falling of the -shadows at even-tide, its little life went out. A bitter trial it was -for the mistress, who loved with a perfect love her feathered friend. -While wrestling with her intense sorrow, and after she had sincerely -placed its mortal remains in a dainty cavity beneath the roses, it -was that she wrote: “I have a tolerably strong belief in the souls of -animals, and I should even like there to be a little paradise for the -good and gentle, like turtle-doves, dogs and lambs. But what to do with -wolves and other wicked animals? To damn them?--that embarrasses me.” - -Less devotional, perhaps, and looking rather to logic than to -intuition, was the mind of Mrs. Somerville. With such a difference -in constitution between the two women, we would naturally look for -the greatest divergence of opinion upon a matter of this kind, but, -astonishing to relate, there is noticeable a marked unanimity. Speaking -of death, and the accompanying change of environing objects, this -gifted writer, in her eighty-ninth year, says in her “Memoirs”:-- - -“I shall regret the sky, the sea, with all their beautiful coloring; -the earth, with its verdure and flowers; but far more shall I grieve to -leave animals that have followed our steps affectionately for years, -without knowing for certainty their ultimate fate, though I firmly -believe that the living principle is never extinguished. Since the -atoms of matter are indestructible, as far as we know, it is difficult -to believe that the span which gives to their union life, memory, -affection, intelligence and fidelity is evanescent. - -“Every atom in the human frame, as well as in that of animals, -undergoes a periodical change by continual waste and renovation: the -abode is changed, not its inhabitant. If animals have no future, the -existence of many is most wretched. Multitudes are starved, cruelly -beaten, and loaded during life; many die under a barbarous vivisection. - -“I cannot believe that any creature was created for uncompensated -misery: it would be contrary to the attributes of God’s mercy and -justice. I am sincerely happy to find that I am not the only believer -in the immortality of the lower animals.” - -To have given the many opinions that have been expressed by the good -and wise of the past in favor of the belief that animals received, in -common with man, a particle of the divine essence, and hence became -immortal, would have extended this chapter beyond intended limits. -We have room for just another witness. No one is better known for -his convictions upon this subject than the late Dr. Wood, whose -contributions to natural history are known the world over. Speaking of -the death of his dog Rory, a creature that manifested in the flesh the -strongest affection for his keeper, the Doctor says:-- - -“I could not believe that an animal which would die of grief, as he -died, for the absence of his master, would have his existence limited -to this present world, and that such intensity of love should terminate -at the same moment that the material heart ceased to beat.” - -When we think of the apparent inequality that is everywhere to be -seen in the lives both of man and beast, we cannot believe, as Mrs. -Somerville has remarked, that any being was “created for uncompensated -misery.” Some human beings are endowed with everything that a man can -desire--health, strength, riches, accomplishments and capacity for -enjoyment--while others are destitute of all these accessories to -happiness. Putting aside the fact that those whose lots seem to be the -most enviable are the least to be envied, we cannot help acknowledging -that this disparity does exist, and that the earthly lot of some is -very hard, while that of others is very easy. But we must remember -that there is taught in the New Testament the grand doctrine of -Compensation. Paul alludes to this when he remarks that the sufferings -of this world are not to be compared with the glories of the world to -come, and that the troubles, trials and tribulations of this life are -but the precursor of that glorified existence where all these things -will be utterly unknown. That some such arrangement would be nothing -more than justice there can be no question, and that some principle -of Divine Justice must exist was instinctively known long before it -was explicitly declared by the inspired apostle, for references to -such compensation are found throughout the Psalms. Even Job himself, -sunk as he was in the very depth of afflictions, could say: “Though -He slay me, yet will I trust in Him; but I will maintain my own ways -before Him. He also _shall be_ my salvation; for an hypocrite shall not -come before Him.” So far, then, as man is concerned, this problem of -apparent inequality is not so difficult of solution, for he knows only -too well that in spite of his hard and bitter earth-life that Divine -Justice will be more than vindicated in the life beyond the grave -to which he aspires. But in the case of the lower animals, granting -that they have no future existence, what, I ask, becomes of Divine -Justice? In this land of enlightenment we meet with many animals that -are treated with the greatest kindness by their masters, and others, -endowed with capacities that are not a whit inferior to their more -fortunate brethren, that are treated with the utmost cruelty. While one -is petted and pampered, another is abused and given over to the pangs -of hunger and starvation. If there is a future life for these animals, -it is simply impossible to recognize in their Maker that justice which -sensible, reasoning man should expect. Such an injustice, as shown by -the lives which we have contrasted, would be too flagrant for any human -being to perpetrate, unless such a being was wholly deficient in the -ideas of right and wrong. But on the supposition that these animals -possess immortal souls, and that there is for them a future life in -which these souls shall be developed to their fullest capacities, then -these apparent discrepancies can be reconciled with Absolute Justice -and Perfect Love. In His dealings with the lower animals, as with -ourselves, God looks to the spiritual rather than the material world, -and by the means of the one instructs and prepares his pupils for the -other. With Paul I firmly believe that suffering in the present world -has for its object a preparation for and an introduction to a future -life, and therefore am thoroughly convinced that any creature capable -of suffering has in that capacity its passport to an eternal world. - -Another step, that is, the possession of Individuality, as connected -with Immortality, now presses forward for consideration. As for man, -did he not possess Individuality, no diverseness of management would be -needed, for all would be treated in a similar manner. No two faces in -man are precisely alike, for the very simple reason that no two souls, -of which the countenance is an indication, are alike. The same rule, -no matter what may be affirmed to the contrary, holds good among the -lower animals. To the casual observer no apparent difference can be -detected between any two individuals of a flock of sheep, a portrait -of one equally resembling that of any other. But a shepherd, who -understands his business, will readily distinguish every sheep of his -flock, as well as describe the mental peculiarities of each individual. -One ordinary yellow canary looks just like another yellow canary to the -ordinary vision, while in reality the mental character of each bird is -impressed just as strongly upon its countenance as are human qualities -upon that of man. This quality it is, both in man and beast, that -implies a separate treatment for each individual, and becomes a plea -for an immortality of life. I am not alone in this idea. It is simply -astounding how Individuality in the lower animals is ignored by man. -The generality of grooms treat all horses as though they were just so -many machines turned out of the same mould, and to be treated just like -machines. There is in every species a double kind of Individuality. One -kind there is that is common to the entire species, and then there is -in addition to this common characteristic another that distinguishes -each separate being from its fellows. It is the former that makes a -species what it is, and there can be no doubt that each will exist in -the future life, and that both may be capable of development. The dog, -the horse, the lion and the elephant, and in truth all animals that may -be fitted to survive, will be in the other world what they are in this. -They will be better animals in that world, just as we hope to be better -men, but they will not approach us any nearer than they do in the -earth-life. - -Man does not, as some are foolish enough to claim, lower the condition -of humanity the least by granting immortality to the lower animals. If -they be immortal, as the evidence adduces most strongly shows, there -is not the slightest use of denial. We cannot shirk a fact, and even -if we could, we ought not to do it. Such an argument, which seeks to -elevate man by depreciating his lower fellow-creatures, is not very -creditable to humanity. In announcing the belief that the lower animals -share immortality with man in the higher world, as they share mortality -in this, does not claim for them the slightest equality. Man will be -man and beast will be beast, and insect will be insect, in the next -world as they are in this. They are living exponents of Divine Ideas, -as is evident from the Scriptures and the teachings of science, and -will be wanted to continue in the world of spirit the work which they -have begun in the world of matter. True it is, as has been asserted, -that because a man can transmit his ideas to the lower animals, there -is evidence that they possess a spirit which is able to communicate -with the spirit of man. When a man gives an order to his dog, and is -obeyed, there is proof that both possess spirits, similar in quality, -though differing in degree. We know that to give an order to a plant -would be useless and absurd, because the plant has not the spirit that -can respond to the spirit of the man in the same manner that a dog’s or -a horse’s spirit can, but the inability so to respond does not prove -that the plant is devoid of a spirit. That the spirit of the plant -does respond to the spirit of the man, when it adapts itself to the -conditions which the spirit of the man has imposed upon it, there can -be no question, or the many hundred plants which have been reclaimed -from a state of wildness by a judicious and careful management upon -the part of man would have been among the impossibilities of modern -civilization. The spirit of man must have entered into the spirit of -the plant, and held communion therewith, or the world to-day would not -have been blessed with its manifold cereals, fruits and vegetables, -all of which have been rendered possible for use by the spirit of man -entering into an understanding with the nature, wants and peculiar -dispositions of the plants about him. No less are plants living -exponents of Divine Ideas than worms, insects, beasts and men are, -and as such living exponents, they are as much needed in the future -existence, at least such as are fitted to continue in the spirit-world -the work begun in the world of matter, as are the higher forms of -animal beings. As plants go a great ways towards making this earth-life -a paradise of beauty and delight, and have ever been associated through -the ages with animal life, each of the two great kingdoms of life from -simple beginnings attaining to higher and still higher development up -to the present period--the Era of Mind--it cannot be possible that the -two will have become suddenly divorced when the temporal or earth-life -is about to pass into the eternal or spirit-life. Heaven would not -be Heaven without the plants that we have cultured, and tended, and -admired. - -Concluding, then, let me say, I claim not for the lower animals the -slightest equality with man. What I claim for them is a higher _status_ -in creation than is generally attributed to them. I claim for them -a future life, where they will receive a just compensation for the -sufferings which so many of them have to undergo in this world. Most -of the cruelties which are perpetrated upon animals are due to the -habit which man has, in his exalted opinion of self, of considering -them as mere automata, without susceptibilities, without reason and -without the capacity of a future. That I have achieved the purpose, -with which I set out, of proving that all life is immortal, or that -soul exists in plants and animals, I think must be admitted. If this -doctrine of immortality shall have the effect of bringing about a more -humane treatment of the animals over which man has been given dominion, -and thus contribute, be it ever so little, to their well-being and -happiness, even in this life, then the object attained will be felt to -be a just and worthy recompense for the thought and labor which have -been expended in its support and defence. Not alone are we of the upper -walks of being made the possessors of the inner life, but all nature -shares it in common with us, and love is its expression and the method -of its action. - - - THE END. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - - Inconsistent and unusual or archaic spelling, use of accents and - diacriticals, hyphenation and capitalisation have been retained, - except as mentioned below. - - Depending on the hard- and software used and their settings used to - read this text, not all elements may display as intended. - - Page 7, List of Illustrations: the portrait of the author is not the - frontispiece, and is not included in this edition of the book. - - Page 45, "a single red-eye speck": should probably read "a single red - eye-speck". - - Page 73, "unutterly unable": as printed in the source document. - - Page 99, Line Below Shows Natural Size: based on the size of the - physical book, this would make the insect’s natural size around 27 mm - (just over 1″). - - Page 317/318, paragraph starting "Returning to the philology ...": a - closing quote mark is missing. - - Page 464/465, paragraph starting "That there is a distinction ...": a - closing quote mark is missing. - - - Changes made - - Illustrations have been moved out of text paragraphs. - - Some obvious minor typographical and punctuation errors have been - corrected silently. - - Lists of illustrations: illustration numbers have been added. - - Page 44: "quiet unable" changed to "quite unable". - - Page 62: "plants not natives to this country" changed to "plants not - native to this country". - - Page 245: PANDION HALIÆTUS changed to _Pandion haliætus_ for - consistency. - - Page 264: caption "Red-eyed Vireo’s Two-Storied Nest With Cow-bird’s - egg beneath" added cf. list of full-page plates. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTELLIGENCE IN PLANTS AND -ANIMALS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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