The sensitive plant, that shrinks from the touch, is rightly
regarded as occupying a high place in the vegetable world. When
its delicate leaves are seen drooping from contact with the
finger, we might fancy it gifted with a sort of consciousness,
by which it can not only feel and perhaps suffer, but also
visibly attempt to withdraw from suffering. It is an interesting
object to notice, whatever may be our speculations in regard
to it, and we naturally have strong interest in a plant so
curiously endowed. Some men and women in our most civilized
communities seem to be very much akin to this little shrub.
Their one distinguishing characteristic is sensitiveness.
They are easily hurt, easily irritated, easily offended. They
translate every touch, however innocent or even friendly, into
an intent to trouble or annoy them. They are constantly fancying
slights, suspecting insults, imagining ridicule, dreading
censure.--_Public Ledger._
(2901)
* * * * *
Moral shocks are communicated to the whole world as certainly as earth
tremors to the whole earth. No man can do a wrong deed or a right one
without affecting every other man.
That the earth is extremely sensitive even to the slightest
shocks, contractions, or alterations is shown by the tremendous
rapidity with which the indications of these are transmitted
to various parts of the globe. A few minutes after the first
shock was felt in San Francisco the seismographic instruments at
Washington recorded the tremor. (Text.)
(2902)
* * * * *
A most remarkable example of a peculiar sensitiveness has been
observed in certain moths of the family _Bombyces_--notably
the Oak Eggar, the Emperor, and the Kentish Glory. Take a
newly emerged female of either of these species, shut her up
in a small box, conceal the box in your pocket, and then walk
about in some country spot known to you as being one of the
haunts of that species of moth. Then, if any of the males of
the same species happen to be in the neighborhood, they will
settle or hover about close to the female which, altho still
concealed and quite out of their reach, has attracted them to
the spot.--W. FURNEAUX, “Butterflies and Moths.”
(2903)
* * * * *
“An Apology for My Twilight Rambles” was the original title
of the tender hymn: “I love to steal away a while,” by Phebe
Hinsdale Brown. The story in a word is this: Phebe was left
an orphan in her Canaan home (New York), and fell under the
cruel care of a relative who caused her to grow up timid and
retiring to a painful degree. Marrying Timothy H. Brown, she
made her home for some time in Ellington, Conn., caring for a
growing family. At sunset, one day, she stole away from her
cares for a little relief and for communion with God, in a
rich neighbor’s flower garden, which, indeed, was her favorite
resort. Her trespass was reported to the mistress of the house,
who accosted her with: “If you want anything, why don’t you come
in?” meaning, “Get out!” Next day, with a wounded spirit and
filled with tears, holding her baby to her bosom, she wrote the
lines above, nine stanzas in all, and sent them to the feminine
churl who was so little of a neighbor and belied the odor of the
flowers that blest her garden. (Text.)
(2904)
=Sensitiveness to Pain=--See PAIN IN ANIMALS.