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THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE

[Illustration: _Frontispiece._

GROUP OF BEECHES, BURNHAM. _Page 167._]




THE

BEAUTIES OF NATURE

AND THE

WONDERS OF THE WORLD

WE LIVE IN

BY

THE RIGHT HON.

SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART., M.P.

F.R.S., D.C.L., LL.D.

New York

MACMILLAN AND CO.

AND LONDON

1892

_All rights reserved_


COPYRIGHT, 1892,

BY MACMILLAN AND CO.

TYPOGRAPHY BY J. S. CUSHING & CO., BOSTON, U.S.A.


PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH, BOSTON, U.S.A.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER I
                                      PAGE

INTRODUCTION                             1

Beauty and Happiness                     3
The Love of Nature                       5
Enjoyment of Scenery                    14
Scenery of England                      19
Foreign Scenery                         21
The Aurora                              33
The Seasons                             34


CHAPTER II

ON ANIMAL LIFE                          39

Love of Animals                         41
Growth and Metamorphoses                43
Rudimentary Organs                      45
Modifications                           48
Colour                                  50
Communities of Animals                  57
Ants                                    58


CHAPTER III

ON ANIMAL LIFE--_continued_             71

Freedom of Animals                      73
Sleep                                   78
Senses                                  84
Sense of Direction                      93
Number of Species                       96
Importance of the Smaller Animals       97
Size of Animals                        100
Complexity of Animal Structure         101
Length of Life                         102
On Individuality                       104
Animal Immortality                     112


CHAPTER IV

ON PLANT LIFE                          115

Structure of Flowers                   128
Insects and Flowers                    134
Past History of Flowers                136
Fruits and Seeds                       137
Leaves                                 138
Aquatic Plants                         144
On Hairs                               148
Influence of Soil                      151
On Seedlings                           152
Sleep of Plants                        152
Behaviour of Leaves in Rain            155
Mimicry                                156
Ants and Plants                        156
Insectivorous Plants                   158
Movements of Plants                    159
Imperfection of our Knowledge          163


CHAPTER V

WOODS AND FIELDS                       165

Fairy Land                             172
Tropical Forests                       179
Structure of Trees                     185
Ages of Trees                          188
Meadows                                192
Downs                                  194


CHAPTER VI

MOUNTAINS                              201

Alpine Flowers                         205
Mountain Scenery                       206
The Afterglow                          213
The Origin of Mountains                214
Glaciers                               227
Swiss Mountains                        232
Volcanoes                              236
Origin of Volcanoes                    243


CHAPTER VII

WATER                                  249
Rivers and Witchcraft                  251
Water Plants                           252
Water Animals                          253
Origin of Rivers                       255
The Course of Rivers                   256
Deltas                                 272


CHAPTER VIII

RIVERS AND LAKES                       277

On the Directions of Rivers            279
The Conflicts and Adventures of Rivers 301
On Lakes      312
On the Configuration of Valleys        323


CHAPTER IX

THE SEA                                335

The Sea Coast                          337
Sea Life                               344
The Ocean Depths                       351
Coral Islands                          358
The Southern Skies                     365
The Poles                              367


CHAPTER X

THE STARRY HEAVENS                     373

The Moon                               377
The Sun                                382
The Planets                            387
Mercury                                388
Venus                                  390
The Earth                              391
Mars                                   392
The Minor Planets                      393
Jupiter                                394
Saturn                                 395
Uranus                                 396
Neptune                                397
Origin of the Planetary System         398
Comets                                 401
Shooting Stars                         406
The Stars                              410
Nebulae                                 425




ILLUSTRATIONS


FIG.                                                                   PAGE

1. Larva of Choerocampa porcellus                                        53

2. Bougainvillea fruticosa; natural size. (After Allman)                107

3. Do.           do.        magnified                                   108

4. Do.           do.        Medusa-form                                 109

5. Medusa aurita, and progressive stages of development.
(After Steenstrup)                                                      110

6. White Dead-nettle                                                    124

7. Do.                                                                  125

8. Do.                                                                  125

9. Salvia                                                               127

10. Do.                                                                 127

11. Do.                                                                 127

12. Primrose                                                            131

13. Do.                                                                 131

14. Arum                                                                135

15. Twig of Beech                                                       140

16. Arrangement of leaves in Acer platanoides                           142

17. Diagram to illustrate the formation of Mountain Chains              216

18. Section across the Jura from Brenets to Neuchatel. (After Jaccard)  219

19. Section from the Spitzen across the Brunnialp, and the
Maderanerthal. (After Heim)                                             221

20. Glacier of the Bluemlis Alp. (After Reclus)                          228

21. Cotopaxi. (After Judd)                                              237

22. Lava Stream. (After Judd)                                           239

23. Stromboli, viewed from the north-west, April 1874. (After Judd)     242

24. Upper Valley of St. Gotthard                                        257

25. Section of a river valley. The dotted line shows a <DW72> or
talus of debris                                                         260

26. Valley of the Rhone, with the waterfall of Sallenches, showing
a talus of debris                                                       261

27. Section across a valley. _A_, present river valley; _B_, old
river terrace                                                           262

28. Diagram of an Alpine valley, showing a river cone. Front view       263

29. Diagram of an Alpine valley, showing a river cone. Lateral view     265

30. Map of the Valais near Sion                                         266

31. View in the Rhone Valley, showing a lateral cone                    267

32. Do.                       showing the <DW72> of a river cone         268

33. Shore of the Lake of Geneva, near Vevey                             269

34. View in the district of the Broads, Norfolk                         271

35. Delta of the Po                                                     273

36. Do.          Mississippi                                            274

37. Map of the Lake District                                            281

38. Section of the Weald of Kent, _a, a_, Upper Cretaceous strata,
chiefly Chalk, forming the North and South Downs; _b, b_, Escarpment of
Lower Greensand, with a valley between it and the Chalk; _c, c_, Weald
Clay, forming plains; _d_, Hills formed of Hastings Sand and Clay. The
Chalk, etc., once spread across the country, as shown in the dotted
lines                                                                   283

39. Map of the Weald of Kent                                            284

40. Sketch Map of the Swiss Rivers                                      291

41. Diagram in illustration of mountain structure                       296

42. Sketch Map of the Aar and its tributaries                           299

43. River system round Chur, as it used to be                           308

44. River system round Chur, as it is                                   309

45. River system of the Maloya                                          311

46. Final <DW72> of a river                                              317

47. Do.         do.        with a lake                                  318

48. Diagrammatic section of a valley (exaggerated). _R R_, rocky basis of
a valley; _A A_, sedimentary strata; _B_, ordinary level of river;
_C_, flood level                                                        329

49. Whitsunday Island. (After Darwin)                                   359

50. A group of Lunar volcanoes; Maurolycus, Barocius, etc.
(After Judd)                                                            380

51. Orbits of the inner Planets. (After Ball)                           388

52. Relative distances of the Planets from the Sun. (After Ball)        389

53. Saturn, with the surrounding series of rings. (After Lockyer)       395

54. The Parallactic Ellipse. (After Ball)                               413

55. Displacement of the hydrogen line in the spectrum of Rigel.
(After Clarke)                                                          416




PLATES


BURNHAM BEECHES      _Frontispiece_

WINDSOR CASTLE. (From a drawing by J. Finnemore)      _To face page_ 13

AQUATIC VEGETATION, RIO. (Published by Spooner and Co.)             145

TROPICAL FOREST, WEST INDIES. (After Kingsley)                      179

SUMMIT OF MONT BLANC                                                203

THE MER DE GLACE, MONT BLANC                                        229

RYDAL WATER. (From a photograph by Frith and Co., published by
Spooner and Co.)                                                    247

WINDERMERE                                                          253

VIEW IN THE VALAIS BELOW ST. MAURICE                                264

VIEW UP THE VALAIS FROM THE LAKE OF GENEVA                          268

THE LAND'S END. (From a photograph by Frith and Co., published by
Spooner and Co.)                                                    334

VIEW OF THE MOON NEAR THE THIRD QUARTER. (From a photograph by Prof.
Draper)                                                             371




CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

     If any one gave you a few acres, you would say that you had
     received a benefit; can you deny that the boundless extent of
     the earth is a benefit? If any one gave you money, you would
     call that a benefit. God has buried countless masses of gold
     and silver in the earth. If a house were given you, bright with
     marble, its roof beautifully painted with colours and gilding,
     you would call it no small benefit. God has built for you a
     mansion that fears no fire or ruin... covered with a roof
     which glitters in one fashion by day, and in another by
     night.... Whence comes the breath you draw; the light by which
     you perform the actions of your life? the blood by which your
     life is maintained? the meat by which your hunger is
     appeased?... The true God has planted, not a few oxen, but all
     the herds on their pastures throughout the world, and furnished
     food to all the flocks; he has ordained the alternation of
     summer and winter... has invented so many arts and varieties
     of voice, so many notes to make music.... We have implanted in
     us the seed of all ages, of all arts; and God our Master brings
     forth our intellects from obscurity.--SENECA.




CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION


The world we live in is a fairyland of exquisite beauty, our very
existence is a miracle in itself, and yet few of us enjoy as we might,
and none as yet appreciate fully, the beauties and wonders which
surround us. The greatest traveller cannot hope even in a long life to
visit more than a very small part of our earth, and even of that which
is under our very eyes how little we see!

What we do see depends mainly on what we look for. When we turn our eyes
to the sky, it is in most cases merely to see whether it is likely to
rain. In the same field the farmer will notice the crop, geologists the
fossils, botanists the flowers, artists the colouring, sportsmen the
cover for game. Though we may all look at the same things, it does not
at all follow that we should see them.

It is good, as Keble says, "to have our thoughts lift up to that world
where all is beautiful and glorious,"--but it is well to realise also
how much of this world is beautiful. It has, I know, been maintained, as
for instance by Victor Hugo, that the general effect of beauty is to
sadden. "Comme la vie de l'homme, meme la plus prospere, est toujours au
fond plus triste que gaie, le ciel sombre nous est harmonieux. Le ciel
eclatant et joyeux nous est ironique. La Nature triste nous ressemble et
nous console; la Nature rayonnante, magnifique, superbe... a quelque
chose d'accablant."[1]

This seems to me, I confess, a morbid view. There are many no doubt on
whom the effect of natural beauty is to intensify feeling, to deepen
melancholy, as well as to raise the spirits. As Mrs. W. R. Greg in her
memoir of her husband tells us: "His passionate love for nature, so
amply fed by the beauty of the scenes around him, intensified the
emotions, as all keen perception of beauty does, but it did not add to
their joyousness. We speak of the pleasure which nature and art and
music give us; what we really mean is that our whole being is quickened
by the uplifting of the veil. Something passes into us which makes our
sorrows more sorrowful, our joys more joyful,--our whole life more
vivid. So it was with him. The long solitary wanderings over the hills,
and the beautiful moonlight nights on the lake served to make the
shadows seem darker that were brooding over his home."

But surely to most of us Nature when sombre, or even gloomy, is soothing
and consoling; when bright and beautiful, not only raises the spirits,
but inspires and elevates our whole being--

          Nature never did betray
    The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
    Through all the years of this our life, to lead
    From joy to joy: for she can so inform
    The mind that is within us, so impress
    With quietness and beauty, and so feed
    With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
    Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
    Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
    The dreary intercourse of daily life,
    Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
    Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
    Is full of blessings.[2]

Kingsley speaks with enthusiasm of the heaths and moors round his home,
"where I have so long enjoyed the wonders of nature; never, I can
honestly say, alone; because when man was not with me, I had companions
in every bee, and flower and pebble; and never idle, because I could not
pass a swamp, or a tuft of heather, without finding in it a fairy tale
of which I could but decipher here and there a line or two, and yet
found them more interesting than all the books, save one, which were
ever written upon earth."

Those who love Nature can never be dull. They may have other
temptations; but at least they will run no risk of being beguiled, by
ennui, idleness, or want of occupation, "to buy the merry madness of an
hour with the long penitence of after time." The love of Nature, again,
helps us greatly to keep ourselves free from those mean and petty cares
which interfere so much with calm and peace of mind. It turns "every
ordinary walk into a morning or evening sacrifice," and brightens life
until it becomes almost like a fairy tale.

In the romances of the Middle Ages we read of knights who loved, and
were loved by, Nature spirits,--of Sir Launfal and the Fairy Tryamour,
who furnished him with many good things, including a magic purse, in
which

    As oft as thou puttest thy hand therein
    A mark of gold thou shalt iwinne,

as well as protection from the main dangers of life. Such times have
passed away, but better ones have come. It is not now merely the few,
who are so favoured. All those who love Nature she loves in return, and
will richly reward, not perhaps with the good things, as they are
commonly called, but with the best things, of this world; not with money
and titles, horses and carriages, but with bright and happy thoughts,
contentment and peace of mind.

Happy indeed is the naturalist: to him the seasons come round like old
friends; to him the birds sing: as he walks along, the flowers stretch
out from the hedges, or look up from the ground, and as each year fades
away, he looks back on a fresh store of happy memories.

Though we can never "remount the river of our years," he who loves
Nature is always young. But what is the love of Nature? Some seem to
think they show a love of flowers by gathering them. How often one finds
a bunch of withered blossoms on the roadside, plucked only to be thrown
away! Is this love of Nature? It is, on the contrary, a wicked waste,
for a waste of beauty is almost the worst waste of all.

If we could imagine a day prolonged for a lifetime, or nearly so, and
that sunrise and sunset were rare events which happened but a few times
to each of us, we should certainly be entranced by the beauty of the
morning and evening tints. The golden rays of the morning are a fortune
in themselves, but we too often overlook the loveliness of Nature,
because it is constantly before us. For "the senseless folk," says King
Alfred,

          is far more struck
    At things it seldom sees.

"Well," says Cicero, "did Aristotle observe, 'If there were men whose
habitations had been always underground, in great and commodious houses,
adorned with statues and pictures, furnished with everything which they
who are reputed happy abound with; and if, without stirring from thence,
they should be informed of a certain divine power and majesty, and,
after some time, the earth should open, and they should quit their dark
abode to come to us; where they should immediately behold the earth, the
seas, the heavens; should consider the vast extent of the clouds and
force of the winds; should see the sun, and observe his grandeur and
beauty, and also his creative power, inasmuch as day is occasioned by
the diffusion of his light through the sky; and when night has obscured
the earth, they should contemplate the heavens bespangled and adorned
with stars; the surprising variety of the moon, in her increase and
wane; the rising and setting of all the stars, and the inviolable
regularity of their courses; when,' says he, 'they should see these
things, they would undoubtedly conclude that there are Gods, and that
these are their mighty works.'"[3]

    Is my life vulgar, my fate mean,
    Which on such golden memories can lean?[4]

At the same time the change which has taken place in the character of
our religion has in one respect weakened the hold which Nature has upon
our feelings. To the Greeks--to our own ancestors,--every River or
Mountain or Forest had not only its own special Deity, but in some sense
was itself instinct with life. They were not only peopled by Nymphs and
Fauns, Elves and Kelpies, were not only the favourite abodes of Water,
Forest, or Mountain Spirits, but they had a conscious existence of their
own.

In the Middle Ages indeed, these spirits were regarded as often
mischievous, and apt to take offence; sometimes as essentially
malevolent--even the most beautiful, like the Venus of Tannhaeuser, being
often on that very account all the more dangerous; while the Mountains
and Forests, the Lakes and Seas, were the abodes of hideous ghosts and
horrible monsters, of Giants and Ogres, Sorcerers and Demons. These
fears, though vague, were none the less extreme, and the judicial
records of the Middle Ages furnish only too conclusive evidence that
they were a terrible reality. The light of Science has now happily
dispelled these fearful nightmares.

Unfortunately, however, as men have multiplied, their energies have
hitherto tended, not to beautify, but to mar. Forests have been cut
down, and replaced by flat fields in geometrical squares, or on the
continent by narrow strips. Here and there indeed we meet with oases, in
which beauty has not been sacrificed to profit, and it is then happily
found that not only is there no loss, but the earth seems to reward even
more richly those who treat her with love and respect.

Scarcely any part of the world affords so great a variety in so small an
area as our own island. Commencing in the south, we have first the blue
sea itself, the pebbly beaches, the white chalk cliffs of Kent, the
tinted sands of Alum Bay, the Red Sandstone of Devonshire, Granite and
Gneiss in Cornwall: inland we have the chalk Downs and clear streams,
the well-wooded weald and the rich hop gardens; farther westwards the
undulating gravelly hills, and still farther the granite tors: in the
centre of England we have to the east the Norfolk Broads and the Fens;
then the fertile Midlands, the cornfields, rich meadows, and large oxen;
and to the west the Welsh mountains; farther north the Yorkshire Wolds,
the Lancashire hills, the Lakes of Westmoreland; lastly, the swelling
hills, bleak moors, and picturesque castles of Northumberland and
Cumberland.

There are of course far larger rivers, but perhaps none lovelier than

    The crystal Thamis wont to glide
    In silver channel, down along the lee,[5]

[Illustration: WINDSOR CASTLE.

_To face page 13._]

by lawns and parks, meadows and wooded banks, dotted with country houses
and crowned by Windsor Castle itself (see Frontispiece). By many
Scotland is considered even more beautiful.

And yet too many of us see nothing in the fields but sacks of wheat, in
the meadows but trusses of hay, and in woods but planks for houses, or
cover for game. Even from this more prosaic point of view, how much
there is to wonder at and admire, in the wonderful chemistry which
changes grass and leaves, flowers and seeds, into bread and milk, eggs
and cream, butter and honey!

Almost everything, says Hamerton, "that the Peasant does, is lifted
above vulgarity by ancient, and often sacred, associations." There is,
indeed, hardly any business or occupation with reference to which the
same might not be said. The triviality or vulgarity does not depend on
what we do, but on the spirit in which it is done. Not only the regular
professions, but every useful occupation in life, however humble, is
honourable in itself, and may be pursued with dignity and peace.

Working in this spirit we have also the satisfaction of feeling that, as
in some mountain track every one who takes the right path, seems to make
the way clearer for those who follow; so may we also raise the
profession we adopt, and smooth the way for those who come after us.
But, even for those who are not Agriculturists, it must be admitted that
the country has special charms. One perhaps is the continual change.
Every week brings some fresh leaf or flower, bird or insect. Every month
again has its own charms and beauty. We sit quietly at home and Nature
decks herself for us.

In truth we all love change. Some think they do not care for it, but I
doubt if they know themselves.

"Not," said Jefferies, "for many years was I able to see why I went the
same round and did not care for change. I do not want change: I want the
same old and loved things, the same wild flowers, the same trees and
soft ash-green; the turtle-doves, the blackbirds, the 
yellow-hammer sing, sing, singing so long as there is light to cast a
shadow on the dial, for such is the measure of his song, and I want
them in the same place. Let me find them morning after morning, the
starry-white petals radiating, striving upwards up to their ideal. Let
me see the idle shadows resting on the white dust; let me hear the
humble-bees, and stay to look down on the yellow dandelion disk. Let me
see the very thistles opening their great crowns--I should miss the
thistles; the reed grasses hiding the moor-hen; the bryony bine, at
first crudely ambitious and lifted by force of youthful sap straight
above the hedgerow to sink of its weight presently and progress with
crafty tendrils; swifts shot through the air with outstretched wings
like crescent-headed shaftless arrows darted from the clouds; the
chaffinch with a feather in her bill; all the living staircase of the
spring, step by step, upwards to the great gallery of the summer, let me
watch the same succession year by year."

After all then he did enjoy the change and the succession.

Kingsley again in his charming prose idyll "My Winter Garden" tries to
persuade himself that he was glad he had never travelled, "having never
yet actually got to Paris." Monotony, he says, "is pleasant in itself;
morally pleasant, and morally useful. Marriage is monotonous; but there
is much, I trust, to be said in favour of holy wedlock. Living in the
same house is monotonous; but three removes, say the wise, are as bad as
a fire. Locomotion is regarded as an evil by our Litany. The Litany, as
usual, is right. 'Those who travel by land or sea' are to be objects of
our pity and our prayers; and I do pity them. I delight in that same
monotony. It saves curiosity, anxiety, excitement, disappointment, and a
host of bad passions."

But even as he writes one can see that he does not convince himself.
Possibly, he admits, "after all, the grapes are sour"; and when some
years after he did travel, how happy he was! At last, he says,
triumphantly, "At last we too are crossing the Atlantic. At last the
dream of forty years, please God, would be fulfilled, and I should see
(and happily not alone), the West Indies and the Spanish Main. From
childhood I had studied their Natural History, their Charts, their
Romances; and now, at last, I was about to compare books with facts, and
judge for myself of the reported wonders of the Earthly Paradise."

No doubt there is much to see everywhere. The Poet and the Naturalist
find "tropical forests in every square foot of turf." It may even be
better, and especially for the more sensitive natures, to live mostly in
quiet scenery, among fields and hedgerows, woods and downs;