to inquire into the geological structure of the country around that
capital. He assumed M. Alexander Bronguiart as his associate, and the
result of their joint labours is contained in one of the volumes of the
work now under consideration, in an Essay on the Mineralogy of the
Environs of Paris. This essay formed a great epoch in geological
science, for it was then that the grand division of the tertiary
formations was first shown to form a distinct class. A new direction and
a fresh impulse was thus given to geological investigations; and many of
the most important general truths at which we have now arrived in this
science, have been established by discoveries to which the essay of
Cuvier and Bronguiart led the way.
In 1817 appeared the first edition of the ‘Règne Animal,’ in four octavo
volumes, one of which was written by the celebrated naturalist
Latreille. This work gives an account of the structure and history of
all existing and extinct races of animals: it has subsequently been
enlarged. Cuvier began, in conjunction with M. Valenciennes, an
extensive general work on fishes, which it was calculated would extend
to twenty volumes. Eight only have appeared; for the embarrassments
among the Parisian booksellers, in 1830, suspended the publication, and
it has thus been left incomplete; but a great mass of materials was
collected, and we may hope that they will yet be published. In addition
to these great undertakings, he had been for years collecting materials
for a stupendous work, a complete system of comparative anatomy, to be
illustrated by drawings from nature, and chiefly from objects in the
Museum at the Jardin des Plantes. Above a thousand drawings, many
executed by his own hand, are said to have been made. Looking back to
what he had already accomplished, and considering his health and age,
for he was only in his sixty-third year, it was not unreasonable in him
to hope to see the great edifice erected, of which he had laid the
foundation and collected the materials. But unfortunately for the cause
of science it was ordered otherwise, and there is something particularly
touching in the last words he uttered to his friend the Baron Pasquier,
and in sounds, too, scarcely articulate, from the malady which so
suddenly cut short his career—“_Vous le voyez, il y a loin de l’homme du
Mardi (nous nous étions rencontrés ce jour là) à l’homme du Dimanche: et
tant de choses, cependant, qui me restaient à faire! trois ouvrages
importans à mettre au jour, les matériaux préparés, tout était disposé
dans ma tête, il ne me restait plus qu’à écrire._” “You see how it is,
how different the man of Tuesday (we had met on that day) from the man
of Sunday: and so many things too that remained for me to do! three
important works to bring out, the materials prepared, all disposed in
order in my head, I had nothing left to do but to write.” In four hours
afterwards that wonderfully organized head had become a mere mass of
insensible matter.
Besides the works above enumerated, and many memoirs in the transactions
of the scientific bodies of Paris, he has given to the world, in four
octavo volumes, a History of the Progress of the Physical Sciences, from
1789 to 1827, which evince his genius and extensive erudition. The first
volume is a reprint of a report which he presented, as Perpetual
Secretary of the Institute, to Napoleon, in 1808, on the Progress of the
Physical Sciences from 1789 to 1807. In the same capacity, during
thirty-two years, he pronounced the customary Eloges upon deceased
members of the Institute. These are collected in three octavo volumes,
and bear witness to the versatility of his genius and the extent of his
attainments; for whether he is recording the merits of a mathematician,
a chemist, a botanist, a geologist, or the cultivator of any other
department of science, he shows himself equally conversant with his
subject.
He lived at the Jardin des Plantes for nearly forty years, surrounded by
the objects which engrossed so great a portion of his thoughts, and
there received every Saturday the men of science of Paris, and all
others who visited that capital from any part of the world. Professors
and pupils met in his rooms to listen with instruction and delight to
his conversation, for he was accessible to all. Although compelled to be
a very rigid economist of his time, he was so goodnatured and
considerate, that if any person who had business to transact with him
called at an unexpected hour, he never sent him away; saying, that one
who lived so far off had no right to deny himself. Every thing in his
house was so arranged as to secure economy of time: his library
consisted of several apartments, and each great subject he attended to
had a separate room allotted to it; and he usually worked in the
apartment belonging to the subject he was at the moment engaged with, so
that he might be surrounded with his materials. His ordinary custom,
when he returned from attending public business in Paris, was to go at
once to his study, passing a few minutes by the way in the room where
his family sat; which latterly consisted of Madame Cuvier and her
daughter by a former marriage. He came back when dinner was announced,
usually with a book in his hand; and returned soon after dinner to his
study, where he remained till eleven. He then came to Madame Cuvier’s
room, and had generally some of the lighter literature of the day read
aloud to him. Sometimes the book selected was of a graver cast, for it
is said that during the last year of his life he had the greater part of
Cicero read to him. His manner was courteous, kind, and encouraging:
every one who took an interest in any subject with which Cuvier was
familiar, felt assured that he might approach him without fear of
meeting with a cold or discouraging reception.
He had four children, but lost them all. The last taken from him was a
daughter, who was suddenly carried off by consumption on the eve of her
marriage. He was most tenderly attached to her, and it required all the
efforts of his powerful mind to prevent his sinking under the blow. He
found distraction by intense thought on other subjects, but not
consolation, for the wound never healed.
On Tuesday, the 8th of May, 1832, he opened his usual course at the
College of France, with a particularly eloquent introductory lecture,
full of enthusiasm in his subject, to the delight of his numerous
audience. As he left the room he was attacked with the first symptoms of
the disease which was so soon to prove fatal: it was a paralytic
seizure. He was well enough, however, to preside the next day at the
Committee of the Council of State, but that was the last duty he
performed. He died on the following Sunday, leaving behind him an
imperishable name, which will be held in honour in the most advanced
state of human learning.
[Illustration: Skeleton of the Megatherium.]
[Illustration]
RAY.
John Ray, whom Haller describes as the greatest botanist in the memory
of man, and whose writings on animals are pronounced by Cuvier to be the
foundation of all modern zoology, was born on the 29th of November,
1628, at Black Notley, near Braintree, in Essex. His father was a
blacksmith, who availed himself of the advantages of a free grammar
school at Black Notley to bestow upon his son a liberal education. John
was designed for holy orders; and was accordingly entered at Catherine
Hall, Cambridge, in his sixteenth year. He subsequently removed to
Trinity, of which college he was elected a Fellow, in the same year with
the celebrated Isaac Barrow. In 1651 he was appointed Greek Lecturer of
his college; and afterwards Mathematical Lecturer and Humanity Reader.
In the midst of his professional occupations Ray appears to have devoted
himself to that course of observation of the works of nature, which was
afterwards to constitute the business and pleasure of his life, and upon
which his enduring reputation was to be built. In 1660 he published his
‘Catalogus Plantarum circa Cantabrigiam nascentium,’ which work he
states to be the result of ten years of research. He must, therefore,
have become a naturalist in the best sense of the word—he must have
observed as well as read—at the period when he was struggling for
university honours, and obtaining them in company with some of the most
eminent persons of his own day. Before the publication of his catalogue,
he had visited many parts of England and Wales, for the purpose chiefly
of collecting their native plants; and his Itineraries, which were first
published in 1760, under the title off ‘Select Remains of the learned
John Ray,’ show that he was a careful and diligent observer of every
matter that could enlarge his understanding and correct his taste. His
principal companion in his favourite studies was his friend and pupil,
Francis Willughby.
[Illustration:
_Engraved by H. Meyer._
RAY.
_From an original Picture
in the British Museum._
Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._
]
In December, 1660, Ray was ordained Deacon and Priest at the same time.
But the chances of preferment in the church of England, which his
admirable talents and learning, as well as the purity of his life and
the genuine warmth of his piety, would probably have won for him, were
at once destroyed by his honest and inflexible resolution not to
subscribe to the conditions required by the Act of Uniformity of 1662,
by which divines were called upon to swear that the oath entitled the
Solemn League and Covenant was not binding upon those who had taken it.
Ray was in consequence deprived of his fellowship. The affection of his
pupil, Willughby, relieved him from the embarrassment which might have
been a consequence of this misfortune. The two friends from this time
appear to have dedicated themselves almost wholly to the study of
natural history. They travelled upon the Continent for three years, from
1663 to 1666; and during the remainder of Willughby’s life, which
unfortunately was terminated in 1672, their time was principally
occupied in observations which had for their object to examine and to
register the various productions of nature, upon some method which
should obviate the difficulty of those arbitrary and fanciful
classifications which had prevailed up to their day. In the preface to
his first botanical attempt, the Catalogue of Cambridge Plants, Ray
describes the obstacles which he found in the execution of such a
work;—he had no guide to consult, and he had to form a method of
arrangement, solely by his own sagacity and patience. At that period, as
he says in his ‘Wisdom of God in the Creation,’ “different colour, or
multiplicity of leaves in the flower, and the like accidents, were
sufficient to constitute a specific difference.” From a conversation
with Ray a short time before his death, Derham has described the object
which the two friends had in their agreeable but laborious pursuits.
“These two gentlemen, finding the history of nature very imperfect, had
agreed between themselves, before their travels beyond sea, to reduce
the several tribes of things to a method; and to give accurate
descriptions of the several species, from a strict view of them.” That
Ray entered upon his task, however perplexing it might be, with the
enthusiastic energy of a man really in love with his subject, we cannot
doubt. “Willughby,” says Derham, “prosecuted his design with as great
application as if he had been to get his bread thereby.” The good sense
of Ray saw distinctly the right path in such an undertaking. There is a
passage in his ‘Wisdom of God,’ which beautifully exhibits his own
conception of the proper character of a naturalist: “Let it not suffice
us to be book-learned, to read what others have written, and to take
upon trust more falsehood than truth. But let us ourselves examine
things as we have opportunity, and converse with nature as well as
books. Let us endeavour to promote and increase this knowledge, and make
new discoveries; not so much distrusting our own parts or despairing of
our own abilities, as to think that our industry can add nothing to the
invention of our ancestors, or correct any of their mistakes. Let us not
think that the bounds of science are fixed like Hercules’ pillars, and
inscribed with a _ne plus ultra_. Let us not think we have done when we
have learnt what they have delivered to us. The treasures of nature are
inexhaustible. Here is employment enough for the vastest parts, the most
indefatigable industries, the happiest opportunities, the most prolix
and undisturbed vacancies.” It is not difficult to imagine the two
friends encouraging each other in their laborious career by sentiments
such as these; which are as worthy to be held in remembrance now that we
are reaping the full advantage of their labours, and those of their many
illustrious successors, as in the days when natural history was, for the
most part, a tissue of extravagant fables and puerile conceits.
In 1667 Ray was admitted a Fellow of the Royal Society; and he executed,
about that time, a translation into Latin of his friend Bishop Wilkins’
work, on a philosophical and universal language. In 1670 he published
the first edition of his ‘Catalogue of English Plants;’ and in 1672
appeared his ‘Collection of English Proverbs;’ which he probably took up
as a relaxation from his more systematic pursuits. In this year he
suffered the irreparable loss of his friend Willughby. The history of
letters presents us with few more striking examples of the advantages to
the world, as well as to the individuals themselves, of such a cordial
union for a great object. The affection of Ray for Willughby was of the
noblest kind. He became the guardian and tutor of his children; and he
prepared his posthumous works for publication, with additions from his
own pen, for which he claimed no credit, with a diligence and accuracy
which showed that he considered the reputation of his friend as the most
sacred of all trusts. In 1673, being in his forty-fifth year, Ray
married. Willughby had left him an annuity of £60. He had three
daughters. During the remainder of his long life, which reached to his
77th year, he resided in or near his native village, living contentedly,
as a layman, upon very humble means, but indefatigably contributing to
the advancement of natural history, and directing the study of it to the
highest end,—the proof of the wisdom and goodness of the great Author of
Nature.
The most celebrated of Ray’s botanical publications is his ‘Synopsis
Methodica Stirpium Britannicarum.’ Sir James Smith, in a memoir of Ray,
in Rees’s Encyclopædia, declares that of all the systematical and
practical Floras of any country, the second edition of Ray’s Synopsis is
the most perfect. The same writer, in the Transactions of the Linnæan
Society, vol. iv., says of this Synopsis, “he examined every plant
recorded in his work, and even gathered most of them himself. He
investigated their synonyms with consummate accuracy; and if the
clearness and precision of other authors had equalled his, he would
scarcely have committed an error.” Ray’s ‘Methodus Plantarum Nova,’
first published in 1682, has been superseded by other systems; but the
accuracy of his observations, the precision of his language, and the
clearness of his general views, tended greatly to the advancement of
botanical science. His ‘Historia Plantarum,’ in three vols. folio, a
vast compilation, including all the botanical knowledge of his day, is
still in use, as a book of reference, by those who especially devote
themselves to this study.
The zoological works of Ray have had a more direct and permanent
influence upon the advancement of natural history, than his botanical.
Amongst his zoological productions, the best authorities are agreed that
we ought to include the greater part of those edited by him as the
posthumous works of his friend Willughby. They are conceived upon the
same principle as his own History of Plants, and are arranged upon a
nearly similar plan; whilst the style of each is undoubtedly the same.
In the original division of their great subject, Ray had chosen the
vegetable kingdom, and Willughby the animal; and Ray, therefore, may
have felt himself compelled to forego some of his own proper claims,
that he might raise a complete monument to the memory of his friend. The
Ornithology appeared in 1676; the History of Fishes in 1686. Ray,
however, prepared several very important zoological works, of his entire
claims to which there can be no doubt. The chief of these are, ‘Synopsis
methodica animalium quadrupedum et serpentini generis,’ 1693, which he
published during his life; ‘Synopsis methodica avium,’ and ‘Synopsis
methodica piscium,’ edited by Derham, and published in 1713; and
‘Historia insectorum,’ printed at the expense of the Royal Society, in
1710. “The peculiar character of the zoological works of Ray,” says
Cuvier, “consists in clearer and more rigorous methods than those of any
of his predecessors, and applied with more constancy and precision.” The
divisions which he has introduced into the classes of quadrupeds and
birds have been followed by the English naturalists, almost to our own
day; and one finds very evident traces of his system of birds in
Linnæus, in Brisson, in Buffon, and in all the authors who are occupied
with this class of animals. The Ornithology of Salerne is little more
than a translation from the Synopsis; and Buffon has extracted from
Willughby almost all the anatomical part of his History of Birds.
Daubenton and Hauy have translated the History of Fishes, in great part,
for their Dictionary of Ichthyology, in the ‘Encyclopédie Methodique.’
‘The Wisdom of God in the Creation’ is the work upon which the popular
fame of Ray most deservedly rests. It is a book which perhaps more than
any other in our language unites the precision of science to the warmth
of devotion. It is delightful to see the ardour with which this good man
dedicated himself to the observation of nature entering into his views
of another state of existence, when our knowledge shall be made perfect,
and the dim light with which we grope amidst the beautiful and wondrous
objects by which we are surrounded, shall brighten into complete day.
“It is not likely,” says he, “that eternal life shall be a torpid and
inactive state, or that it shall consist only in an uninterrupted and
endless act of love; the other faculties shall be employed as well as
the will, in actions suitable to, and perfective of their natures:
especially the understanding, the supreme faculty of the soul, which
chiefly differs in us from brute beasts, and makes us capable of virtue
and vice, of rewards and punishments, shall be busied and employed in
contemplating the works of God, and observing the divine art and wisdom
manifested in the structure and composition of them; and reflecting upon
their Great Architect the praise and glory due to him. Then shall we
clearly see, to our great satisfaction and admiration, the ends and uses
of those things, which here were either too subtle for us to penetrate
and discover, or too remote and unaccessible for us to come to any
distinct view of, viz. the planets and fixed stars; those illustrious
bodies, whose contents and inhabitants, whose stores and furniture we
have here so longing a desire to know, as also their mutual subserviency
to each other. Now the mind of man being not capable at once to advert
to more than one thing, a particular view and examination of such an
innumerable number of vast bodies, and the great multitude of species,
both of animate and inanimate beings, which each of them contains, will
afford matter enough to exercise and employ our minds, I do not say to
all eternity, but to many ages, should we do nothing else[10].”
Footnote 10:
Wisdom of God in the Creation, p. 199, fifth edition.
In addition to his ‘Wisdom of God,’ Ray published three
‘Physico-Theological Discourses, concerning the Chaos, Deluge, and
Dissolution of the World.’ “This last presents to us,” to use the words
of Cuvier, “a system of geology as plausible as any of those which had
appeared at this epoch, or for a long time afterwards.” He also printed
a work expressly of a theological character, ‘A Persuasive to a Holy
Life.’
Ray died on the 17th January, 1705, at his native place of Black Notley,
whither he had retired, at Midsummer, 1679, as he himself expressed,
“for the short pittance of time he had yet to live in this world.” His
memory has been done justice to by his countrymen. A most interesting
commemoration of him was held in London, on the 29th Nov., 1828, being
the two hundredth anniversary of his birth.
[Illustration:
_Engraved by E. Scriven._
CAPTAIN COOK.
_From an original Picture by Dance
in the Gallery of Greenwich Hospital._
Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._
]
[Illustration]
COOK.
James Cook was born October 27, 1728, at Marton, a village in the North
Riding of Yorkshire, near Stockton-upon-Tees. His parents, who were
farm-servants, of good esteem in their rank of life, apprenticed him
when not thirteen years of age to a haberdasher at the fishing town of
Staith, near Whitby. The employment proved ill suited to his taste; and
he soon quitted it, and bound himself to a ship-owner at Whitby. In
course of time he became mate of one of his master’s vessels in the coal
trade; that best of schools for practical seamanship.
In the spring of 1755 he was lying in the Thames, when war was declared
between England and France, and a hot press for seamen ensued. He
volunteered to serve on board the Eagle frigate, commanded by Captain,
afterwards Sir Hugh Palliser, and soon won the esteem of his officers by
his diligence and activity. In May, 1759, he was promoted to be master
of the Mercury, in which he was present at the celebrated siege of
Quebec. At the recommendation of Captain Palliser, he was employed to
take soundings of the river St. Lawrence, opposite to, and preparatory
to an attack on the French fortified camp; and in this hazardous service
he manifested so much sagacity and resolution, that he was afterwards
ordered to survey the river below Quebec. The accurate chart, which was
published as the result of his labours, furnishes a most satisfactory
proof of Cooke’s natural talents and steady industry; for he could have
derived little aid in such pursuits from the habits of his early life.
In the autumn he was removed into the Northumberland man-of-war,
stationed at Halifax, in Nova Scotia; and he employed his leisure during
the long winter in making up for the defects of his education, which had
been merely such as a village school could supply. He now read Euclid
for the first time, and applied himself to study those branches of
science, which promised to be most useful in his profession. Towards the
end of 1762 he returned to England, and married; but in 1763 he again
went out to make a survey of Newfoundland. In 1764, his steady friend,
Sir Hugh Palliser, being appointed Governor of Newfoundland, Cook was
made Marine Surveyor of Newfoundland and Labrador. He held this office
nearly four years, and his charts of those coasts remain in use up to
this day.