Since then, I am glad to say, it has become a popular and common pursuit, owing, I doubt not, to the impulse given to it by the many authors whose works I then recommended. I recommend them still; though a swarm of other manuals and popular works have appeared since, excellent in their way, and almost beyond counting. But all honour to those, and above all to Mr. Gosse and Mr. Johns, who first opened people’s eyes to the wonders around them all day long. Now, we have, in addition to amusing books on special subjects, serials on Natural History more or less profound, and suited to every kind of student and every grade of knowledge. I mention the names of none. For first, they happily need no advertisement from me; and next, I fear to be unjust to any one of them by inadvertently omitting its name. Let me add, that in the advertising columns of those serials, will be found notices of all the new manuals, and of all apparatus, and other matters, needed by amateur naturalists, and of many who are more than amateurs. Microscopy, meanwhile, and the whole study of “The Wonders of the Little,” have made vast strides in the last twenty years; and I was equally surprised and pleased, to find, three years ago, in each of two towns of a few thousand inhabitants, perhaps a dozen good microscopes, all but hidden away from the public, worked by men who knew how to handle them, and who knew what they were looking at; but who modestly refrained from telling anybody what they were doing so well. And it was this very discovery of unsuspected microscopists which made me more desirous than ever to see—as I see now in many places—scientific societies, by means of which the few, who otherwise would work apart, may communicate their knowledge to each other, and to the many. These “Microscopic,” “Naturalist,” “Geological,” or other societies, and the “Field Clubs” for excursions into the country, which are usually connected with them, form a most pleasant and hopeful new feature in English Society; bringing together, as they do, almost all ranks, all shades of opinion; and it has given me deep pleasure to see, in the case at least of the Country Clubs with which I am acquainted, the clergy of the Church of England taking an active, and often a leading, interest in their practical work. The town clergy are, for the most part, too utterly overworked to follow the example of their country brethren. But I have reason to know that they regard such societies, and Natural History in general, with no unfriendly eyes; and that there is less fear than ever that the clergy of the Church of England should have to relinquish their ancient boast—that since the formation of the Royal Society in the seventeenth century, they have done more for sound physical science than any other priesthood or ministry in the world. Let me advise anyone who may do me the honour of reading these pages, to discover whether such a Club or Society exists in his neighbourhood, and to join it forthwith, certain that—if his experience be at all like mine—he will gain most pleasant information and most pleasant acquaintances, and pass most pleasant days and evenings, among people whom he will be glad to know, and whom he never would have known save for the new—and now, I hope, rapidly spreading—freemasonry of Natural History.
Meanwhile, I hope—though I dare not say I trust—to see the day when the boys of each of our large schools shall join—like those of Marlborough and Clifton—the same freemasonry; and have their own Naturalists’ Clubs; nay more; when our public schools and universities shall awake to the real needs of the age, and—even to the curtailing of the time usually spent in not learning Latin and Greek—teach boys the rudiments at least of botany, zoology, geology, and so forth; and when the public opinion, at least of the refined and educated, shall consider it as ludicrous—to use no stronger word—to be ignorant of the commonest facts and laws of this living planet, as to be ignorant of the rudiments of two dead languages. All honour to the said two languages. Ignorance of them is a serious weakness; for it implies ignorance of many things else; and indeed, without some knowledge of them, the nomenclature of the physical sciences cannot be mastered. But I have got to discover that a boy’s time is more usefully spent, and his intellect more methodically trained, by getting up Ovid’s Fasti with an ulterior hope of being able to write a few Latin verses, than in getting up Professor Rolleston’s “Forms of Animal Life,” or any other of the excellent Scientific Manuals for beginners, which are now, as I said, happily so numerous.
May that day soon come; and an old dream of mine, and of my scientific friends, be fulfilled at last.
And so I end this little book, hoping, even praying, that it may encourage a few more labourers to go forth into a vineyard, which those who have toiled in it know to be full of ever-fresh health, and wonder and simple joy, and the presence and the glory of Him whose name is Love.
APPENDIX.
PLATE I.
Zoophyta. Polyzoa.
The forms of animal life which are now united in an independent class, under the name Polyzoa, so nearly resemble the Hydroid Zoophytes in general form and appearance that a casual observer may suppose them to be nearly identical. In all but the more recent works, they are treated as distinct indeed, but still included under the general term “Zoophytes.” The animals of both groups are minute, polypiform creatures, mostly living in transparent cells, springing from the sides of a stem which unites a number of individuals in one common life, and grows in a shrub-like form upon any submarine body, such as a shell, a rock, a weed, or even another polypidom to which it is parasitically attached. Each polype, in both classes, protrudes from and retreats within its cell by an independent action, and when protruded puts forth a circle of tentacles whose motion round the mouth is the means of securing nourishment. There are, however, peculiarities in the structure of the Polyzoa which seem to remove them from Zoophytology to a place in the system of nature more nearly connected with Molluscan types. Some of them come so near to the compound ascidians that they have been termed, as an order, “Zoophyta ascidioida.”
The simplest form of polype is that of a fleshy bag open at one end, surmounted by a circle of contractile threads or fingers called tentacles. The plate shows, on a very minute scale, at figs. 1, 3, and 6, several of these little polypiform bodies protruding from their cells. But the Hydra or Fresh-water Polype has no cell, and is quite unconnected with any root thread, or with other individuals of the same species. It is perfectly free, and so simple in its structure, that when the sac which forms its body is turned inside out it will continue to perform the functions of life as before. The greater part, however, of these Hydraform Polypes, although equally simple as individuals, are connected in a compound life by means of their variously formed polypidom, as the branched system of cells is termed. The Hydroid Zoophytes are represented in the first plate by the following examples.