sons can be very careless of their sight; can read in the steam-cars by night or day; in fact, neglect all the nice rules that I have given. But such individuals are not common.

All eyes, including such as are considered perfect, are, optically considered, far from perfect. These faults, unlike those already noticed, are irremediable, and are chiefly as follows:

(1.) There is a want of transparency in the cornea (C, Figure A) and the lens (L, Figure A), and fluorescence of both. Fluorescence is the property that certain substances have of becoming faintly luminous from blue or violet light. The bluish tint of a solution of quinine in water is an example of fluorescence. A blue light thrown into the eye shows a haziness of both cornea and lens. These parts of the eye are therefore inferior to the clear and transparent lenses used by opticians in the manufacture of optical instruments.

(2.) Spherical aberration, due to a lack of corresponding symmetry in the cornea and lens, or to a lack of correspondence in their axes. This makes the refractive power of the two inharmonious, creating a slight astigmatism. The traditional figure of a star has five points. The eye sees a star with more or less luminous points, when, if it were optically perfect, it would see it as it is; that is, without the points.

(3.) Achromatism, or chromatic dispersion of rays. The solar rays being made up of the different colors of the spectrum, and each color being refracted in a different degree by the same medium, they are not united by it in a single focus. Look at a street-lamp at a distance through a violet - colored glass. This stops the intermediate green and yellow rays, and allows the first and last rays the violet or blue and the redpass into the eye. The result is that the red is focused, but the violet and the blue are seen in a broad halo around the red gas-light. Optical instruments are free from this defect.

to

(4.) Slight color-blindness is common to all eyes. The eccentric portion of the

retina does not perceive red as soon as other colors. If we fix our eyes steadily on something in front of us, and then move a red object from the centre of the visual field towards either side, we shall find that the color is not recognizable as far away as the outline of the object. The eye also fails to distinguish a difference between a white produced by the union of scarlet and bluish-green light and a white made by yellowish-green and violet; yet the first comes out black in a photograph, the latter very bright.

(5.) There is a blind spot on the retina of every eye, due to the space occupied by the entrance of the optic nerve. If we make a small cross on a sheet of paper, and three inches at the right of this a black dot, then close the left eye, hold the paper at arms - length, and fix the right eye on the cross, it will be found, on bringing the paper nearer, that at about eleven inches from the eye the dot will not be seen. The blind spot is large enough to hide the face of a man at six or seven feet distance.

the centre and

(6.) The yellow spot most sensitive point of the retina — is by virtue of its yellow tint unable to recognize weak blue light. The smaller stars are seen better by astronomers if they look slightly at one side rather than directly towards them.

This formidable array of common optical defects is unnoticed chiefly because, having two eyes in almost constant motion, one makes up for the temporary visual disturbance in the other. Even with one eye, these faults are rarely noticed, owing to the great mobility of the eye and its continuous change in direction, and to the fact that the imperfections are mostly away from the centre of the field of vision. Habit, inattention, experience, the power of accommodation, may also be given as reasons why our natural visual defects are mostly unobserved. Nevertheless, these optical defects do exist in all eyes; and, as Professor Helmholtz observes, if an optician offered for sale an instrument with these faults, one would be justified in refusing to buy it.

H. C. Angell, M. D.

[The plot of the following tale is based upon that of a well-known Japanese novel. In offering this pathetic story to the readers of The Atlantic, the Editors feel that they could not recast the occasionally quaint English of their Japanese contributor without depriving it of a peculiar charm.]

In the prosperous period of the Tycoon administration Yedo was considered as the centre of the Japanese civilization; thither flocked all classes of the people from every quarter; and the Tycoon was surrounded by the brilliancy of Oriental luxury and the splendor of the feudal system. Among his favorites there was a baronet by the name of Hidaka, who had two sons, the elder Bunzero, and the younger Kotaro. By the custom of primogeniture Bunzero was to inherit all the family property - title as well as estate -on his succeeding his father, who had thought of retiring from an act ive duty of baronetcy, which, according to the customary law, imposed upon a baronet an obligation to attend the Tycoon's court. Bunzero had been for some time attached to a maiden of inferior rank; he asked the baronet to permit him to marry her, but the father, being proud of his family name, was much displeased by this proposal, and told his son that he must either abandon the low marriage or forfeit the right of succession. In spite of his father Bunzero married the woman of his choice, left the paternal roof, and went to Osaka, the largest commercial city of that day, where he lived with his wife in a humble cottage, and made a livelihood by teaching the children of the district, soon becoming quite rich by his untiring industry. Although unfriended and cast out from home, they set forth on the journey of life with the brightest hopes. Soon after a son was born to them, whom they named Kenzero, and to whom they were attached by the strongest afVOL. XLII.NO. 249.

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fection, regarding him as the source of future happiness.

In their neighborhood there lived a poor tradesman who had just lost his wife, and could not support himself and his little girl, Sumie, on account of poverty and sickness. Bunzero, moved by pity towards this helpless girl, took her into his family and brought her up as if she were a child of his own. Although he had forfeited his rank, Bunzero did not stifle a feeling of ancient pride that he had been once the sole heir to nobility. He now hoped that his son Kenzero would some time or other distinguish himself and wipe off the disgrace that he had brought upon the family name; therefore he educated Kenzero with the utmost care. Kenzero, by his marvelous aptitude for learning, soon distinguished himself, and became the leading youth in the school. His noble and dignified countenance, which showed that he was descended from a noble family, and his easy grace of manner gained him many admirers. Sumie, though born of a peasant family, was endowed with unrivaled beauty, which well accorded with her gentle and charming manner; her natural talent for music was shown even in her infancy. Growing up under the same roof as brother and sister, they shared in each other's joy and grief; their fondness grew stronger and stronger as they advanced in years, and each vowed in heart and soul to be a life-partner of the other.

One morning, Bunzero, coming into Kenzero's study with a letter in his hand, said, "I have received joyful tidings from Yedo!"

"What is it, father?" asked Ken

the eye of the law, by my forfeiture; I cannot succeed to the family estate; but as you are a son of the true heir of the Hidaka family, you have some claim to the estate, if you can only be adopted by my father's house. What do you suppose is my father's intention? It is to adopt you in my brother's family, who succeeded me after my disappearance. There is a messenger coming from Yedo in a few days to receive our answer, and if we agree before he arrives you are to go to the capital at once. To obtain this was my ambition and my hope for you.

For this purpose I gave you the best education possible, and now the time has come for you to take off the disgrace from the name of your father." So delighted was Bunzero that his voice trembled with joy, and his face brightened with ecstasy.

Kenzero was surprised at this unexpected news, and said triumphantly, "Now, sir, the way to the world and honor is open to me." A flush came up immediately to his face, and his eyes glistened with delight. Suddenly he turned his face away from the father, and wrung his hands as if in grief; he thought that he must part with Sumie, his long-wished-for bride.

What is it, my dear boy? What ails you?" asked the father, bending over his son with anxious looks.

"No-nothing-sir," stammered the son; "but-but- I must leave you and " Here the name Sumie trembled on his lips, but he suppressed it with a sigh. "I must now renounce my duty toward you, and leave you alone with Sumie."

"Oh, do not think of me," said the father, "for I am legally dead, and have none but a moral claim on you. I am only too happy to make any sacrifice for the welfare of my only son." Kenzero, who had all the while remained silent, with downcast eyes, now looked up to his father's face with an expression of mingled joy and grief; and the father continued: "Now you are to be adopted in another family, and perhaps you know already the customary law of such adoption; but as this is our last inter

view as father and son, let me say a few words. When you are adopted, you must renounce all your home duties and rights, and honor your adoptive parents more than your own; for the maxim tells us, The first is the adopted, and the second the natural.' Your natural father has no claim to your person after the adoption. When you go into my brother's family, regard him as a father, though an uncle in reality; obey his commands, and let me hear that you have shown yourself worthy of my affection.. As I shall live forever in retirement, and never be in the glare of worldly splendor, so I trust that you will remember my last words, and be a credit to the name of Hidaka. After you are gone, I shall give all my property to Sumie, who was, as you know, left helpless, and has been brought up as one of my family. I once thought of concluding your betrothal with her, but as you have a higher hope and brighter future her inferior birth might hinder your succession to a noble family; therefore I shall marry her to some tradesman, with the settlement of my property upon her." Kenzero's countenance suddenly turned ghastly pale, and he sat with folded arms, speechless and motionless. In his troubled mind duty and love struggled to conquer, and one could almost hear the beatings of his heart; but at last he sacrificed love to duty. He assented to his father's proposal, and returned to his room to prepare for his journey, sorrowful and reluctant.

Sumie received the tidings as sadly as Kenzero, but she concealed from the world the sufferings of her heart, and brooded constantly over her future destiny and her unfortunate life. She looked sad and gloomy. Her sleep was haunted by melancholy dreams. She soon became helpless and exhausted; she finally shut herself up in her own chamber, and refused to be either cheered or comforted. As soon as he had finished his preparations, Kenzero hastened to Sumie's room and opened the paper slide, and saw her leaning on her couch and supporting her head on her hand, as if utterly destitute of strength; her vacant

At the sound of his voice she looked up, and said, with a sad smile, "No, about the same as yesterday;" and she sank again into her former state of unconsciousness.

"If you shut yourself up in this close room you will only feel worse. Come out into the garden. The weather is mild and pleasant, and the cherry-trees are in full bloom; it will do you good to take the fresh air. Do not brood so, but try to look for some happier future," said Kenzero, in order to divert her thought.

"How can I cease to think of our cruel separation! When I learned the history of my misery and destitution, I wept bitterly at the thought that I was an orphan, and had nothing to depend upon except the mercy of others; but as you had always pitied my miserable lot, and sympathized with me in my sorrow, so I had in you a master, the light of life, and the source of future happiness. Now you are going away to Yedo, and such a long distance will lie between us; and perhaps we shall never more see each other again." As she finished the sentence, she covered her face with her hands and wept.

"Do not take it so sorely. If you could only know the anguish of my heart. Duty and love! The weight of duty always turns the scale in its favor. But my love for you shall know no change. After my arrival at Yedo I will at once send for you, and introduce you as one of the family; but if I cannot accomplish this, we can hope and wait for the time when I succeed to the family estate and everything is at my disposal; then our union will be happily consummated, and without fear we can brave the world together." He then persuaded her to take a walk around the garden. It was near twilight; the last rays of the setting sun were gleaming through the thick foliage and the blooming branches, beneath which slowly rambled the youth and maiden. Their thoughts

were wrapped in joy and happiness for the future; their sweet whispers were often interrupted by the enchanting melody of the nightingale; their forms were sometimes lost in the gloom of gathering night.

On the morning of his departure they all gathered around the gate to see Kenzero off. Sumie's heart was too full to admit of saying more than a simple "good-by;" she gave him an affectionate yet melancholy look, and lowered her head to conceal her tears. Kenzero could neither speak nor exchange a glance of parting with her, but only cast a farewell look on the little group clustered around the gate, and suddenly turned his face and proceeded on his journey. At the turn of the road he looked back toward the house, and saw

Sumie standing alone. When she per

ceived Kenzero turn, she waved her hand with cheering nods and mingled emotions of sorrow and despair.

She waited some time, but no letter came from Yedo. As the days rolled away in this dreadful suspense she grew anxious, impatient, and at last hopeless. Her anguish was uncontrollable; she gave way to her grief, and wept like a forsaken child.

"Have you changed so soon?" cried she, in agony. "Has your promise evaporated into nothing? Kenzero, O Kenzero, this is too unmerciful to bear!" She raised her head, flung back her disheveled hair, and shuddered at the changed appearance of her own face, once so fair and beautiful. As she sat alone by a dim, flickering lamp, which made her confused mind more despondent, she heard a voice from outside calling distinctly, "Sumie, Sumie!" She sprang up and opened the window, asking, in a trembling voice, "Who is there?" No answer came but the echo of her own words. She leaned exhausted on the window-sill, and looked up to the vast and peaceful firmament studded by myriads of brilliant stars, and she wondered why her life could be so sad and gloomy while everything around her was so calm and undisturbed. She sang in a plaintive tone; and the sorrowful

melody was wafted on the midnight air, and lost among the rustlings of the leaves. Again she starts from a profound melancholy, and looks out with a frightened gaze.

"Am I dreaming?" she wondered. "No; I heard it again distinctly. 'Tis the voice of a pleading angel calling me to the Blessed Isle. Yes, yes, anon I come." And she jumps from the window, holding in one hand her tangled hair, and in the other the fold of her long robe. She runs blindly toward the bank of the Yodo River, while a flock of ravens flap their wings and croak over her head as if to chant her funeral dirge. She now stands on a bridge, gazing on the furious stream below, and wondering whether beneath the frowning waves there lies the tranquil shore of a "land of rest." "O God, deliver me from sorrow!" she prayed tremblingly; "take me anywhere out of this unmerciful world." She then plunged headlong into the rushing current, and a midnight bell from a distant pagoda tolled forth, as if ringing the knell of one so young, so beautiful, so good. The moon had just waned behind the western hills, and a mysterious darkness dropped like a curtain over the scene of desolation.

This sudden disappearance of Sumie startled Bunzero and his neighbors. They at once began to search for her; they sent the detectives to every place of concealment, and they dragged the river, but no trace of her could be found. To the memory of this unfortunate girl he erected a tomb in the burying-ground of his ancestors, and fixing the day of her disappearance as the date of her death, he offered prayers for her departed soul.

Kenzero was cordially received by his uncle's family, which consisted of his grandfather, a retired noble, his adoptive parents, and their only daughter Eukie. The intention of the family was soon told: they wished to marry Kenzero to Eukie, and thus enable both the heirs of Bunzero and Kotaro to participate in the fortune and estate of the family, this being the general practice in the case of adoption.

Eukie is now on the verge of womanhood: she is gentle in manner and graceful in movement; her heart is free from selfishness and conceit; she has a certain air of inexperience and innocence which makes her extremely charming. In her personal beauty she was not surpassed by Sumie. The latter was sagacious and intellectual; the former was amiable and graceful. Kenzero was much troubled. If he did not follow the intention of his parents, he would violate filial duty toward the family. If he did, he would break his parting promise to Sumie, whose very existence depended on that one hope, and he might ruin forever the peace and happiness of that unfortunate maiden. But the adoption was already recorded in the office of the Tycoon's council, and there was no other way to avoid the difficulties except to wait for his succession to the family estate; until then he must refuse to marry Eukie on some ground. Should he tell them of Sumie? No; her inferior birth would be a decisive objection, and the very fact of his engagement with her might cause his disinheritance, and he might meet again the fate of his poor father. Once he thought of sending Sumie a letter, to acquaint her with his present circumstances. But he feared that the idea of the intended matrimony would be a fatal blow to her; so he decided not to write to her until he ascertained the time of his succession. Kenzero sat alone, careworn and exhausted, thinking of Sumie and her anxiety consequent upon his long silence, his uncle stepped into the room, and, delivering a dispatch, said with an air of coldness,

As

"It has a seal of mourning; open and see. The sight chilled Kenzero to his heart; he remained speechless for a moment, gazing upon the letter, which still lay unopened in his trembling hand.

"It is not your father?" persisted the baronet. By this time Kenzero, slowly recovering his strength, opened the letter; it was the announcement of Sumie's disappearance. He sank helpless into his seat, and turned deadly pale. Once or twice his lips moved as if to ut