Ray, in writing or speaking to his friend Willoughby, to tell him he had found Antirrhinum Elatine (the former being the generic, and the latter the trivial name), is obliged to go round to his point in this manner: "I have found that Linaria Elatine dicta folio acuminato;" and Haller, who was one of the neatest and most skilful definers, if he had communicated the same information, would have employed this periphrasis: "I have gathered the Antirrhinum foliis imis conjugatis, superioribus alternis, ad basin hamatis."

But the knowledge of the instrument, however requisite, is not the knowledge of the subject to which it is applied. Nomenclature is not the end, but the means, of our study; and if I have offered an excuse for the attention which has been paid to it in this country, I rejoice in any circumstance which is likely to enlarge the boundaries of science, and throw open still wider the temple of nature. The establishment of a Magazine of Natural History cannot fail to promote this object.

Without disparaging other pursuits, the subject has some advantages of a wider bearing than is generally acknowledged.

In the first place, it is admirably adapted to develope and strengthen the faculties of the mind; and this it does, not only by the system and order which are necessary to be observed, but by appealing to some of the higher powers with which we are endowed. Mankind are evidently divided into two great classes, those who particularise (composing the bulk), and those who generalise. No man was ever great, without possessing both faculties in an eminent degree; yet the greater part pass through life without ever discovering that they have this power of abridging and condensing thought by an operation of the mind alone. Even those who do possess the faculty to some extent, are apt to suffer it to run so wild, and to deal in such loose generalities, that they lose half its benefits. Nothing is more likely to develope this peculiarity of the intellect, or to keep it within legitimate bounds, than the systematic study of nature. She furnishes such an infinity of subjects, that no man could grasp the ten-thousandth part who should attempt to become acquainted with all the individuals, and he would be left immeasurably behind another who should employ generic and family distinctions. Nor can the student of natural history make a step in generalisation without a frequent recurrence to his particulars. He would soon find himself lost amidst the mazes of similar and related things, if he were not to examine and reexamine the individuals before him. Unlike many of the subjects of the present day, which seem to owe their attraction to the almost

licentiousness of their generalisation, this subject brings with it its own corrective; and to be a good naturalist, requires that the student should be a diligent observer of particulars, as well as a correct generaliser of them.

Another great inducement to adopt the study of natural history, is, that it is admirably suited to correct the tendency there is in our popular institutions to run into schemes of utility. Our mechanics, mathematics, amusements, politics, charities, are all tainted, more or less, with this defect. "The age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, calculators, and economists has succeeded." Now, besides this perpetual appeal to utility and reason, as the only, or chief foundation of happiness, there is another and higher appeal, felt by all, and occasionally bowed to by all, which goes to the heart and to the affections; more subtle in its nature, and less within con- trol, there are a thousand cases which yield to no other tribunal, and where man acts with greater safety, trusting to the dictates of his heart, than if he relied upon utility and reason. To bring the subject home more practically: our scheme of popular education attempts to improve man's moral condition almost entirely through the medium of his understanding. It seems to be adapted to make good artizans, skilful mechanics, industrious tradesmen; but it may be fairly doubted, whether it be suited, in a like degree, to cherish the higher virtues, and to make men better as well as wiser.

I wish to see natural history cultivated as a means of enlarging this contracted view of education, of opening to the little sentient new objects for his affections and sympathies, of awakening within his bosom a love for nature and nature's productions. It is the fashion with a cold and heartless portion of the world, to stigmatise these notions with the names of romance and sentiment. It might, perhaps, be happier for England, not forgetting Scotland, if the sinews of our strength were not wholly exhausted in our industry; if steam-engines, and power-looms, and economy, and profit, divided our attention only,―things which reason approves, but which the imagination forbids. They have a tendency to lower the standard of excellence to their own level, while the repudiated and now antiquated scheme of bettering men through the heart, always proposes a higher and nobler standard than he can reach.

I should, for instance, propose, that the peasantry of England should be improved by being taught that the kitchengarden does not comprehend the whole scope of horticulture; that there are such things as violets and roses to awaken sweet recollections; ranunculuses and anemones to ravish the eye; and some one or other particular flower, which every

man of imagination associates with tenderness and friendship. In passing along through the country, every man's garden may furnish a clue to his character, much better and safer, in our esteem, to trust to, than either physiognomy, phrenology, or autography. Do we see the kail bed of large and ample dimensions, encroaching upon every inch of cultivated soil, we pronounce the possessor to be a political economist, or radical, or voluptuary; on the other hand, if we witness flowers of all hues adorning the vicinity of his habitation, we know there is a spark of his better nature yet unextinguished. It unfolds to us the current of his thoughts and feelings; it tells, like the other also, of honesty and industry; but it tells, besides, of generosity and charity, love and fidelity, of brave sons and beautiful daughters.

I lately was made acquainted with a rustic of this latter class, whose house botanists are wont to frequent for the beauty of the surrounding scenery, and the rare plants to be found in the neighbourhood, a house that Isaac Walton might have delighted in. One of the last acts of this honest vintner's life, was to call his daughter to his pillow, when he said, "Mary, it is a fine morning; go and see if Scilla vérna is come in flower." May the virtues of the father descend upon his children! Then may botanists continue to find at this humble inn *, cleanliness and civility, a trowel to dig up their plants, and even a vasculum to secure them. J. E. B. April 7. 1828.

ART. II. Observations on the Causes that have retarded the Progress of Natural History in this Country, and on the defective State of our Public Museums. The first of a Series of Essays, intended to comprise a succinct View of the System of Baron CUVIER, as contained in his Règne Animal, and of his Researches on Fossil Bones. By B.

THERE is no country that has the same facilities for procuring objects of natural history from every region of the globe as Great Britain; there is no country where larger sums of money have been expended to purchase them; and yet there is no country in the civilised world, where there are fewer facilities offered to the student of natural history than in England.

The truth of this remark cannot be denied. The two causes which have mainly contributed to impede the study of *The Running Horse, at Mickleham.

natural history in England may be briefly stated: the first is, the deplorably ineffective state of our public museums; the second is, the very expensive form in which works on natural history are generally published in this country. The total amount of the money expended in collecting objects of natural history for the British Museum, is, perhaps, one hundred times greater than the sum expended in forming the museum of natural history at the Jardin des Plantes, at Paris; and yet the utility of the latter, to the student of natural history, may be fairly said to exceed that of the former, in the ratio of a thousand to one. The British Museum is the property of the nation, having been bequeathed to the public, or purchased and supported with the public money; but, till recently, the public had great difficulty in obtaining access within its walls; and when it was at length opened on certain days, the admission was rather granted as a favour, than conceded as a right. The value of the admission to the student of natural history was greatly diminished from the want of a scientific arrangement of the objects; particularly in the zoological department. The defects were those of its original formation. The intention appears to have been to collect whatever was extraordinary or rare, without any view to arrangement: it was an assemblage of curiosities, some of which, as single objects, were highly interesting to the professed naturalist, but conveyed little instruction to the learner.

After the Greville collection had been purchased by the nation, at a considerable price, a part of the minerals were arranged and exhibited; and the mineralogical department, as far as regards simple minerals, is, perhaps, as well classed as the space allowed for it would admit of. Yet, as a useful collection, it is still defective. Many of the specimens are without labels, and they consist chiefly of the more rare crystallisations of each species, whereas to be really useful, a public collection ought to contain specimens of each mineral, in the most common form in which it usually occurs, as well as the rare crystalline forms, which are only to be found in particular situations.

It is more than twelve years since I was induced to expect that a scientific arrangement of the shells would be undertaken; but after visiting the museum for ten years, I could perceive no progress made in such a labour, and I discontinued my visits, as there appeared every probability that the present generation would pass away before it was accomplished. There were, indeed, some cases, with shells placed to amuse the spectator by the splendour of their colours, or the beauty of their forms; but there was no sys

tematic arrangement of them, nor were the shells labelled or described. This is the more to be regretted, as conchology has risen into importance, from its connection with geology. How different is the museum at the Jardin des Plantes at Paris, where each genus and species of shell is arranged and numbered according to a received system; and the student has only to examine the collection with his book in his hand, to render himself master of the science, as far as books and specimens can teach him! This defect in the department of conchology in the British Museum is to be lamented, as I know of no public collection in this country, from which the student can derive any assistance. Surely the curators of the British Museum, who superintend this department, would do well to recollect the maxim of Hippocrates, " Ars longa, vita brevis."

It has been too long supposed that the nation had nothing to do with the British Museum, but to furnish funds for its support. I hope, however, that the present liberal and enlightened president of the Royal Society, whose zeal for the promotion of science is well known, will feel that he is in trust for the benefit of the nation, and that he will make all the resources of the British Museum more available for the purpose of public information, than they have yet been. It is particularly desirable, as the London University will speedily be opened, that the collections in every department of natural history in the British Museum, should be well arranged, and scientific catalogues published at a reasonable price. If this were effected, it would be of greater benefit to the students than the establishment of lectureships on natural history in the university, as those who had a real desire to learn, would be able to instruct themselves as at Paris.

In offering these remarks, I can sincerely affirm that they are not dictated by any feeling of hostility, but by an ardent desire to see the scientific institutions of our own country rendered as respectable and efficient as those in various parts of Europe; and I am certain, that if they are not so at present, it is neither from want of talent or ability, but arises from a kind of national reluctance to disturb the slumbers of ancient establishments by innovation, even where innovation would be attended with the most favourable results.

The Ashmolean museum at Oxford offers an excellent illustration of what ancient museums were intended to be. Their founders never contemplated the formation of scientific arrangements of natural objects for the purpose of study; but they collected whatever was strange, curious, or rare in nature or art, to surprise or amuse the spectators. In doing so they