Everyday Objects

Book I.--Winter.

CHAP. PAGE

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS:--

The Number of the Stars, 4

The Great Bear and the Little Bear, 8

Orion, 13

Diurnal Movement, 15

Determination of the Cardinal Points, 17

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN UPON THE EARTH:--

The Snow, 32

Red Snow, 39

The Eternal Snow, 44

The Inhabitants of the Eternal Snows, 48

The Arvicola Leucurus, 49

The Marmot, 53

The Chamois, 56

The Eagle and the Wren, 57

The Snow Bunting, 66

The Red-billed Crow, 68

Reptiles, 70

Inferior Animals, 71

Herbaceous Plants which best endure the Cold of Winter, 75

The Dog Mercury, 77

The Garden Nightshade, 82

The Dog's-tooth Grass, 88

* * * * *

Book Ii.--Spring.

CHAP.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS:--

The Earth's Figure is seen in the Sky as in a Mirror, 102

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH:--

Causes of the Circulation of the Sap, 132

The Daisy, 138

The Tulip, 152

The Heliotrope, 156

The Anemones, 157

The Arum, 161

The Ranunculaceæ, 165

The Wood-louse, 169

The Dragon-flies, 174

* * * * *

Book Iii.--Summer.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS:--

The Adumbrated Sphere, 191

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH:--

The Perianth, 208

The Calyx, 208

The Corolla, 223

The Prunella, 230

The Scutellaria, 235

The Lilies, 241

The Gentians, 250

An Alpine Excursion, 256

The Pimpernel, 260

The Mole--The Staphylinus--The Mole Cricket, 265

The Earwig, 278

* * * * *

Book Iv.--Autumn.

CHAP.

I. WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS:--

The Circle, and the uniform Movement of the Stars (according to the Theory of the Ancients destroyed by Kepler), 289

The Solar Constitution, 292

Result of recent Astronomical Researches, 296

II. WHAT MAY BE SEEN ON THE EARTH:--

Chemical action of Light, 312

Action of Heat, 313

Arable Land, 318

Mushrooms or Agarics, 325

The Number of Vegetable Species distributed over the whole Surface of the Globe, 337

The Harvest Bug, 349

The Cheese Mite, 354

The Number of Animal Species distributed over the whole Surface of the Globe, 356

What is Chlorophyll? 366

Carnations and Pinks, 371

The Eglantine and the Convolvulus, 379

Metamorphosis: a Physico-philosophical Meditation, 384

* * * * *

APPENDIX, 405

BOOK I.. Winter.

WINTER.

Lastly, came Winter clothèd all in frieze, Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill; Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze, And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill As from a limbeck did adown distil: In his right hand a tippèd staff he held, With which his feeble steps he stayèd still; For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld; That scarce his loosèd limbs he able was to wield.

--SPENSER, The Faerie Queene, Canto vi. (Of Mutability).

* * * * *

You naked trees, whose shady leaves are lost, Wherein the birds were wont to build their bower, And now are clothed with moss and hoary frost, Instead of blossoms, wherewith your buds did flower; I see your tears that from your boughs do rain, Whose drops in dreary icicles remain.

--SPENSER, The Shepherd's Calendar, Eclogue I.

CHAPTER I.. _what May Be Seen in the Heavens._

WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THE HEAVENS.

Skies flower'd with stars, Violet, rose, or pearl-hued, or soft blue, Golden, or green, the light now blended, now Alternate.

--P. J. BAILEY, Festus.

Our observation of the celestial phenomena may most easily be made in the winter-time. Then the nights are long, and the vault of heaven is crowded with stars, and, unilluminated by the moon, exhibits all its splendours. In the other seasons of the year, and particularly in summer, the twilight gleam encroaches, so to speak, upon a portion of the nights, which are otherwise so brief, and precludes our vision from any exact estimate of the stars. Those demitints, those soft subdued reflections of light, scarcely permit the eye to distinguish even stars of the first and second magnitude, which shine like spots of dull gold on a background of pale silver.

THE NUMBER OF THE STARS.

How many are the stars?

To such a question comes the immediate answer, They are infinite in number.

But, after a little meditation, we begin to perceive that the question, apparently so simple, is, in reality, one of very great complexity. Let us endeavour to disentangle its various threads.

We must not forget that, in every scientific analysis, it is important we should, in the first place, separate two intimately united elements,--the individual who observes, and the product of the observation. The former, the "sensorial factor," is subject to every condition of space and time; the second, the "intellectual factor," tends, by its generalisations, to free itself from those very conditions which are the inseparable co-efficients of matter and movement. The individual passes; save from an outer standpoint, we know not whence he comes, nor whither he goes. The product of the observation remains; transmissible from generation to generation, it will gradually expand and increase, if it be founded upon truth; but, on the contrary, its splendour will wane, and will eventually disappear, if it be founded upon error. Eternal is this spectacle of actors and puppets succeeding one another uninterruptedly upon the same stage! As one falls, another steps forward into his place, and so the great army marches forward with unbroken ranks.

He who, "in cities pent," sees the sky only through a garret window, or in the narrow intervals between house and house, can form no accurate idea of the magnificence of the firmament. The peasant, the shepherd, or the labourer, spent with his daily work, prefers sleep to astronomical vigils; and even amongst those more favoured sons of fortune, who enjoy sufficient leisure, but few are found who feel a genuine pleasure in the study of the stars. Though they are the poetry of heaven, their music is inaudible to the majority of souls. We content ourselves with an occasional careless glance at their serene loveliness, and then turn again to the pleasures or avocations of commonplace life.

But, come; let us arouse ourselves! Let us quit the city for awhile; let us throw off all thought of its too-engrossing pursuits; let us find time to count the stars. Gentle readers, I ask you to follow me.

Ah, me! how small is the train of followers! How great my delusion in supposing that a complete phalanx of students of the celestial wonders would reply to my invitation!

We have now arrived in the open country; and here, on the summit of this gentle ascent, crowned with a clump of leafless trees, we pause. The sky glitters with a cold, keen light, which is reflected back by the snowy plains. While the eye ranges delightedly over the starry vault, the ear is struck by the distant sound of bells, which, at the midnight hour, ring in the infant year--ring in so many hopes and expected joys, and unexpected sorrows--ring out so many passing pleasures and rudely dissipated visions.

As the chime glides softly over the meadows, and along the resounding vales, and through the leafless woods, repeated by echo after echo, until its music dies away in the distance, like our recollections of the dreams of youth, we murmur to ourselves that solemn song of the poet, which so aptly blends the regrets of the past with the anticipations of the future; we exclaim--

"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

"Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good.

"Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the harrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.

"Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be."

The spectacle is majestic and impressive. Let us seek, in the first place, to ascertain our position in reference to the four points of the compass--the four cardinal points. But how is this to be done? By day it is easy enough. I have only to turn myself towards the sun when it has reached the highest point of its diurnal course, and there, in front of me, lies the south, in my rear the north, the east on my left, and on my right the west.

But is it possible to ascertain one's position during the absence of the "orb of day?"

Both possible and easy, provided the sky be clear and cloudless.

But this condition is as necessary by day as by night. How can we determine in which direction lies the south, if the sun be hidden from our gaze by an uniformly opaque atmosphere, and if objects, lit up by a diffuse light, project no shadow at any time of the day?

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