Ir is scarcely more than a century since the several sciences to which we apply the general name of Natural History, began to rouse themselves from a sleep into which they had fallen nearly two thousand years before. The middle ages of Natural History are peculiarly the dark ages, and the darkness was dense as it was long. Throughout this long period observers were scarce; theorisers and commentators, critics of subjects which they could not comprehend, were numerous; and the body of naturalists occupied themselves in specious dreams. Here and there, like the flashes which cheer the darkness of the polar winter, noble minds rose above their

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fellows to declare the truths which they had observed or discovered; but such lights were rare, and soon put aside they could not be extinguished-by the race over which a busy dulness reigned supreme.

The writers of the middle ages had built up in their own minds a perfect system, as it was supposed; and this they imagined to be the system of the universe. Instead, therefore, of seeking out, by patient observation, the facts of Nature, and reasoning upon them, they employed themselves in cutting down to their own notions of propriety every fact which seemed to contradict what the schoolmen considered a law of Nature. A glaring instance of such prejudiced explanation is found in the theories gravely put forward by learned men to explain the existence of organic fossils. Marine petrifactionsfishes, shells, corals-were found imbedded in rocks, or in the soil, in places far removed from the existing sea, and at a considerable height above its level,—in the upland country, and even on the tops of mountains. The wise men of those days (so lately as the year 1680) explained the phenomena by supposing a "plastic power" in nature, which was exerted in moulding the living rock into mimic representations of animals and plants, for no better purpose, seemingly, than to puzzle and amuse the vulgar. This was cutting the knot of difficulty after a strange fashion. It was contrary to their theory to believe that the sea had ever occupied the places in which the marine productions were found. If it had not, how could these have got there? There was no reply but the resolute denial that the fossils were really the relics of marine creatures; and this, in spite of the evidence of

their senses, or the deductions of sound reason, these pseudo-philosophers unblushingly asserted. It was thus that the facts of nature were habitually twisted to suit the requirings of a preconceived theory; and thus laborious lives were spent to no other purpose than in heaping up a mass of unreadable nonsense in our libraries.

The enunciation of the inductive philosophy was the first great blow to the fame of these writers. The perfect system of the universe was found to be no longer tenable; it fell almost at the first onset, and with it fell the charm which had embalmed every opinion handed down from classic times. The book of nature began to be studied with ardour, and in a new and unfettered spirit. No longer clogged with theories, naturalists found that, so far from its having been exhausted by the labours of their predecessors, Natural History was full, to overflowing, of novel interest. Facts were no longer tried by traditional authority; but tradition was subjected to the close inquisition of newly-observed facts. In every country observers were at work, and, instead of the somnambulism of the preceding ages, naturalists, like men newly risen, went forth in their morning strength and ardour to the labour of the day. The fair sun of science was already above the horizon, and it was their privilege to drink in his earliest beams.

So long as Natural History was encumbered with its pseudo-classical incubus its votaries were few in number. The more it grew into a science founded on observation, the more it attracted popular attention. The writings of LINNEUS, composed in a clear and elegant

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NATURAL SYSTEMS:

style, and offering a systematic arrangement such as all could readily understand, contributed more than those of any other naturalist to the spread of a taste for his favourite science. He was eminently a popular writer, and, no matter what criticism may now be passed on his system, it must be admitted that to it, is greatly owing the rapidity with which the natural sciences advanced in public favour in the early part of last century. Had his followers possessed a tithe of his comprehensive and singularly-penetrating mind, they would have saved his memory from many an undeserved reproach. No man ever had a truer eye for a natural group, or was more deeply impressed with the value of a natural system. He has indeed left us, in his Genera, especially of Insects and Shells, grand outlines of such a system, sketched by a master's hand. But he felt that the time for erecting the temple of nature had not come, and that his own province lay in preparing materials for the building, and to this task he devoted the chief energies of his mind.

We of the present generation are, perhaps, too apt to think that sufficient materials have already been amassed, and to set ourselves—often with but a very superficial knowledge of even a single department of a single science to work out a system which shall embrace a much wider field, perhaps one that shall attempt to be a system of nature. Hence the numerous systems, all called "natural," which have been proposed, both in Zoology and Botany, within the last fifty years. Hence, too, the still stranger systems and anti-systems which the history of Geology exhibits, where the same fact

is often adduced by different writers as the most convincing proof in favour of directly opposite views of the history of the world. These discrepancies are sufficient to prove to any unprejudiced mind that the requisite materials for constructing a perfectly natural system are not yet accumulated, and that in every department of natural history patient observers are still required, who will be contented to store up facts, and to work out such parts of a general system as they find to be within their legitimate reach, abstaining from all general views that are not warranted by the amount, either of their own knowledge, or of that of the scientific world in general. Bold minds will now and then run a-head of absolute discoveries, and by lucky anticipation will sometimes point in the right direction. Deeply informed and comprehensive intellects will discover glimpses through the haze, like the looming of distant land, where common observers can see no indications of a solution, and their "guesses at truth," being built partly on real induction, partly on skilfully-applied analogies, often open up to us correct views of the order of nature which subsequent discoveries only confirm and strengthen. Such minds will ever be cautious in advancing theories: but how many hasty observers, admiring the brilliant results attained by the skilful "guesser," ignorant of the liabilities to error, and therefore despising caution, rush forward on their course, and propose to the world their fanciful schemes as important discoveries. In the republic of science there is no longer a recognized head. Each panter after fame may set up a system of his own. There is no controlling power but the slow-working ver