affairs, will find that they have an interest which is perfectly safe amid the chances and changes of life. I do not for a moment maintain that intellectual pursuits can afford consolation in sorrow, for this we must look elsewhere; but they are undoubtedly capable of giving solace and diversion to the mind, which might otherwise dwell too long on the gloomy side of things; and of beguiling the tedium of enforced solitude, or of confinement to a sick-room. For an instance of this, we need look no further than to the experience of the illustrious naturalist who has honoured us by sending us a paper for this, our first meeting. Some of the curious and interesting observations, to which we shall presently listen, were made when he was a prisoner, night and day, to one room; and we cannot doubt that the occupation they afforded him, not only served to lighten the weary hours, but occasioned him an amount of positive enjoyment which one less gifted might have failed to secure, though at liberty to participate in the ordinary pleasures of social life.

Such an example should encourage us to go and do likewise. Many particulars respecting the commonest of our wild plants, animals, and insects, are yet imperfectly understood; and any one of us who might select one of these creatures, and begin a series of patient observations on its habits, manner of feeding, of taking care of its young, of communicating with its kind, of guarding against approaching danger; on its disposition and temper, and the difference in character between two individuals of the same species, would find such occupation, not only exceedingly entertaining, but if the observations were carefully and accurately recorded as they were noted, the result would be something of real, if not of great, scientific value. Gold is gold-whether our amount be an ingot or a spangle; and we need but to open our eyes, and carefully observe what is passing around us, to add perpetually to our store of the pure gold of knowledge.

No one should be deterred from either making or reporting original observations, by a feeling that they are trifling or unimportant. Nothing that is real is considered insignificant by the naturalist, and observations, apparently the most trifling, have led to results which have turned the whole current of scientific

thought. What could be a more trifling circumstance than the fall of an apple from a tree? yet the appearances presented contained the key that unlocked the mystery of the planetary movements. The law of gravitation maintains the stability of the universe, yet the fall of a pin to the ground is as truly a manifestation of this force as the movement of the earth in its orbit. With the sentiment of the poet in our hearts—

"That very law which moulds a tear,

And bids it trickle from its source,

That law preserves the earth a sphere,
And holds the planets in their course,"

we shall never regard any appearance as trifling, which the tremendous forces of nature concur to produce.

How seemingly unimportant are the movements of insects, creeping in and out of flowers in their search for the nectar on which they feed. If we saw a man spending his time in watching them, and in noting their flitting with curious eyes, we might be excused for imagining that he was amusing himself by idling an hour luxuriously in observing things which, though curious, were trifling. But how mistaken might we be in such an assumption! For these little winged messengers bear to the mind of the philosophical naturalist, tidings of mysteries hitherto unrevealed, and as Newton saw the law of gravitation in the fall of the apple, Darwin found, in the connection between flies and flowers, some of the most important facts which support the theory he has promulgated respecting the modification of specific forms in animated beings.

It is true we are not Darwins nor Newtons, and cannot expect to make surprising discoveries, but we may be sure that these, and all other philosophers, have found an exquisite pleasure in tracing the workings of nature, independently of searching to establish any theory; and this enjoyment may be had by all who follow, however humbly, in their footsteps. And if we wish to understand their theories, it is consoling to find our attention directed at the outset, not to seemingly dry disquisitions, full of hard words, but to loved and familiar natural objects; to humble bees sucking clover flowers, to beetles swimming with their wings, to primroses

and crimson flax, to grotesque orchids with their wild, weird beauty, setting traps for unwitting insects, and making them pay for their feast of honey by being the bearers of love tokens from one flower to another; to be sent, in fact, to the Book of Nature, and bidden to read its wondrous stories with our own eyes.

One of the special advantages that this society offers us, is that of being an arena for the communication of any interesting fact we may have observed, and a storehouse, in which will accumulate the results of our labours. Many curious facts in natural history are constantly coming under the notice, at least of such as reside or visit in the country, but the interest or curiosity roused at the moment is apt to pass away, if we have no persons to whom to communicate the facts we have observed. But they become a source of perpetual interest if we are united with others in the prosecution of such studies, if we are sure of a sympathizing audience to whom we may impart them, and if we know that they will be recorded and preserved as a contribution to the sum of what is known on the subject.

I have attempted to give a few of the considerations which seemed to render the formation of such an association as this desirable, and which have enabled us to bring it up to the present point. Our infant society is now fairly started in life, with every possible encouragement to hope for a prosperous career. We begin with a goodly number of members; we have funds in hand for our present requirements, and have been thereby enabled to lay the foundation of our proposed library by acquiring a title to the valuable publications for this year, of the Ray Society.

The Council of the Royal Institution has liberally accorded to us the gratuitous use of a most convenient room for our meetings; and several eminent men among the Manchester Literati have promised to come and read papers for our instruction, on which we shall have the opportunity of expressing our opinions, and of asking of the author any questions his communications may suggest to our minds.

We are met to-day to listen to a paper by one of the most eminent naturalists in the world,' sent to us with his good wishes 1 Mr. Charles Darwin.

for our success. Beginning under such favourable auspices, we may hope for a series of agreeable and instructive gatherings, to secure which end we shall, I am sure, all be desirous of contributing to the extent of our several abilities. Any of our members who may feel disposed so to do, will, we hope, favour us with original papers, which we shall always be most happy to receive, while those who are not desirous of being writers, will fill the no less useful and important office of listeners, and perhaps of critics of what is advanced. In one way or other, all can do good service, and it only needs a continuation of the support and goodwill hitherto displayed by its members, to render the Manchester Ladies' Literary Society an institution to which we shall feel it a pride and a pleasure to belong.

January 30th, 1867.

§ 9. Extracts from Correspondence.

Miss Becker never wrote anything in haste. A certain irritability of nature betrayed itself at times in a hasty word, her impatience of fussiness sometimes showed itself too plainly, but she never allowed herself to show hastiness or impatience in writing. Her letters were written with great care and consideration. They show her in her real strength, in her statesmanlike toleration and indifference to petty things. Her wealth of sympathy with suffering and wrong, gave her insight into character; her massive force of purpose made her strong to endure and made pettiness of thought an impossibility for her.

Her standard of work was very high, and she exacted the best work from herself and from those under her. She fully gauged their capacities for work, and knew

what should be expected of each. Her method was to leave each responsible for the work entrusted to her, and they knew they could rely absolutely on her justice and her appreciation of work well done. But if she met with anything like deceit or underhand dealing, she showed no toleration.

These were the qualities that drew the strong to her. The fussy and the self-opinionated shrank from her. The weak might feel overpowered in her presence, the over-zealous might be disconcerted by her cool reception of their zeal, but those who had power to appreciate power appreciated her, according to the measure of their own power.

From the day when she accepted the invitation of the Manchester Committee to become its Secretary, her life, so far as the public are concerned, became identified with the movement in which she thenceforth lived and moved and had her being, until the last fatal journey. Of the tragic close, so terrible for all who loved her, it will be best to speak when that time is reached, and let these reminiscences close with a few extracts from her correspondence illustrating the character of the writer and the then condition of public opinion.

The first extract gives a sort of confession of her political faith.

"I have never doubted which was the party of progress, but I certainly think that on our question the Tory and Liberal have been till very lately, if they are not now, so helplessly in the rear that there was not much to choose between them, and I do not believe that the Liberal party as a party care a straw