Читать книгу The Beauties of Nature, and the Wonders of the World We Live In - Sir John Lubbock - Страница 3
ОглавлениеILLUSTRATIONS
FIG. PAGE
1. Larva of Chœrocampa 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 Neuchâtel. (After Jaccard) 219 19. Section from the Spitzen across the Brunnialp, and the Maderanerthal. (After Heim) 221 20. Glacier of the Blümlis 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 slope 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 slope 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 slope 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
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.
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, même la plus prospère, est toujours au fond plus triste que gaie, le ciel sombre nous est harmonieux. Le ciel éclatant 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,
