"Now my mind was satisfied. I learned that what had troubled me was a widespread arrangement throughout nature to which even the quiet, beautiful growths of flowers were subject. Henceforth human and natural life, soul and flower existence, were inseparable in my eyes, and my hazel blossoms I see still, like angels that opened to me the great temple of nature.... Henceforth it seemed as if I had the clue of Ariadne, which would lead me through all the wrong and devious ways of life; and a life of more than thirty years with nature, often, it is true, falling back and clouded for great intervals, has taught me to know this, especially the plant and tree world, as a mirror—I might say, an emblem—of man's life in its highest spiritual relations; so that I look upon it as one of the greatest and deepest conceptions of human life and spirit when in holy Scripture the comparison of good and evil is drawn from a tree. Nature, as a whole,—even the realms of crystals and stones,—teaches us to discriminate good from evil; but, for me, not so powerfully, quietly, clearly, and openly as the plant and flower kingdom."
The stronger this feeling of the universality of sex, the more dispersive, as it were, is the thought of the subject. It would be difficult to connect personal and impure thoughts or feelings with a star whose distance in space was realized; and so with all other thoughts, the more they can be elevated into wide, general regions, the less disturbing they will be likely to become.
All the facts of sex-life can be learned in the flower, and the associations thus indelibly impressed cannot fail to leave at least a trace of fragrance and loveliness on even an obtuse nature. No matter what the later experiences or mistakes may be, the whole conception of this side of life cannot sink so low as might be the case if there were not this flower-sweet background. And that is worth something.
It is not difficult to pass at once from the flower life to human life, and there are cases where this may be advisable. When, however, the beginning-work has been done with young children, and when we consider all the stress laid upon nature-work these days in school and out, and all the books written and all the stories told of living creatures of all kinds, it is helpful and easy to linger in the delightful and impersonal realm of the lower life yet longer, with this distinct advantage, that the feeling of universality, which is very different from the thought of it, will be strengthened.
For several reasons, the step from plant life to animal life can well be taken by means of the fish, particularly with little children. There is nothing prettier than living fishes in water. The fascination they have for all conditions and ages is shown by the crowds always seen at exhibitions of live fish in aquaria.
The child can have his little aquarium at home, which may consist of a glass globe plentifully supplied with some pretty water weed and a goldfish or two. Fishes do not like the bright light all around them, and should be provided with some sort of refuge, like the water weed, or if the tank is large enough, with stones piled up to make a cave. For the same reason, the globe should not be set in the window or on the middle of a small table, but should be placed where at least one side of it may be shadowed by something. Pebbles should be put in the bottom of the tank and not too many fishes crowded together. They need room to move freely, and also plenty of fresh water for breathing. At the bird-stores small aquaria can usually be bought and fitted out with the proper amount of water plants to balance the breathing of the fishes. For the impurity breathed out by the fish is the same as that breathed out by all creatures, the carbon dioxide which it discharges into the water being just what the water plant needs to grow on. Also the water plant returns pure oxygen to the water, which is just what the fish needs to breathe. This story of the interdependence of the two, and the possibility of so balancing the plant and animal life in the tank that it is never necessary to change the water, can be made very interesting, and, needless to say, very illuminating. The fish cannot live out of the water, and yet it breathes air. There is always air in the water unless it has been artificially removed as by boiling, and this little bit of air is enough for the fish, which is cold-blooded and does not need so much fuel to keep its vital forces burning. But this little it must have, and it will suffer for the want of it, just as we suffer in a very close, unventilated room; and if the supply should become too small, the fish will die, just as we should die in a room where no fresh air could enter. So the fish must have the water changed unless there is enough plant life in its tank to keep the air pure. When suffering for air, the fish shows signs of distress, which should never be ignored. If it keeps close to the surface of the water with its mouth up and frequently swallows the outside air, that is a sign it needs fresh water. If it does not have it after a while it will die, as it cannot live on air undiluted by water.
Fishes need very little feeding, particularly if there are water plants in the tank; they find food from them. The best way is to follow the directions of the man who sells you the fishes. If too much food is given them it quickly fouls the aquarium, and then the water must be changed and everything cleaned up. In changing the water, care should be taken to have that which is put in about the same temperature as that taken out. A sudden application of too cold water is not good for the fishes. The children should take care of their pets themselves and see that they do not suffer.
The motions of the fish are what make it so attractive. How does it swim? Not with its fins to any extent. The whole back part of the body, including the tail, is moved from side to side as the fish swims. It moves its tail as a paddle is used at the stern of a boat, and so the fish paddles himself along. The fins are used more as balancers. They keep the fish upright in the water. As soon as it stops using them, it turns over on one side.
The fish opens and shuts its mouth constantly; it appears to be swallowing water. And so it is, so far as its mouth is concerned, but the water it takes in does not go down into the stomach. It is not really swallowed, but passes out at the gills, which are also constantly opening and shutting. The gills are red inside and are covered with a fine network of blood vessels. The air in the water moves against these delicate blood vessels, which are able to take what they need—the oxygen—from it. Thus the fish uses gills instead of lungs for breathing.
Sometimes, fishes pick up pebbles in their mouths and drop them again. Some fishes, but not goldfishes, make noises.