did my interlocutor fail to begin, and in nearly every case he ended as he had begun, with the word persuasiveness. Cobden made his way to men's hearts by the union which they saw in him of simplicity, earnestness, and conviction, with a singular facility of exposition. This facility consisted in a remarkable power of apt and homely illustration, and a curious ingenuity in framing the argument that happened to be wanted. Besides his skill in thus hitting on the right argument, Cobden had the oratorical art of presenting it in the way that made its admission to the understanding of a listener easy and undenied. He always seemed to have made exactly the right degree of allowance for the difficulty with which men follow a speech as compared with the ease of following the same argument on a printed page, which they may con and ponder until their apprehension is complete. Then men were attracted by his mental alacrity, by the instant readiness with which he turned round to grapple with a new objection. This is what Mr. Disraeli meant when he spoke of Cobden's "sauciness." It had an excellent effect, because everybody knew that it sprang, not from levity or presumption, but from a free mastery of his subject.

The Life of Richard Cobden (1881).

SONNET ON CHILLON.

["Bonnivard, a Genevese, was imprisoned by the Duke of Savoy in Chillon on the Lake of Geneva, for his courageous defence of his country against the tyranny with which Piedmont threatened it during the first half of the seventeenth century. This noble sonnet is worthy to stand near Milton's on the Vaudois massacre."-F. T. PALGRAVE. One of Byron's noblest and completest poems.”—A. C. SWINBURNE.]

Eternal spirit of the chainless mind!

Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art;
For there thy habitation is the heart-
The heart which love of thee alone can bind:
And when thy sons to fetters are consigned,

To fetters and the damp vault's dayless gloom,
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Chillon thy prison is a holy place,

And thy sad floor an altar; for 'twas trod
Until his very steps have left a trace

Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod,

By Bonnivard !-May none those marks efface!
For they appeal from tyranny to God.

BYRON (1816),

AUTUMNAL SONNET.

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM (b. 1828).

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast

Wails in the key-hole, telling how it passed
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,

Or grim, wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods

Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.
Dear friends, together in the glimmering eve,
Pensive and glad, with tones that recognize
The soft, invisible dew in each one's eyes,
It may be, somewhat thus we shall have leave
To walk with memory, when distant lies
Poor Earth, where we were wont to live and grieve.

THE WORK AND HABITS OF EARTH-WORMS.

CHARLES DARWIN, LL.D., F.R.S.

[The great naturalist's last book was a discourse on worms-as though, with his own death in full view, he had cheerily said, "Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs ;" and then he went on to tell of the burial of ancient monuments, and even ancient cities, by that universal sexton, the earthworm.]

1. Introduction.

As I was led to keep in my study during many months worms in pots filled with earth, I became interested in them, and wished to learn how far they acted consciously, and how much mental power they displayed. I was the more desirous to learn something on this head, as few observations of this kind have been made, as far as I know, on animals so low in the scale of organization and so poorly provided with senseorgans, as are earth-worms.

In the year 1837, a short paper was read by me before the Geological Society of London, "On the Formation of Mould;" in which it was shown that small fragments of burned marl, cinders, etc., which had been thickly strewed over the surface of several meadows, were found after a few years lying at the depth of some inches beneath the turf, but still forming a layer. This apparent sinking of superficial bodies is due, as was first suggested to me by Mr. Wedgwood of Maer Hall in Stafford

*

shire, to the large quantity of fine earth continually brought up to the surface by worms in the form of castings. These castings are sooner or later spread out, and cover up any object left on the surface. I was thus led to conclude that all the vegetable mould over the whole country has passed many times through, and will again pass many times through, the intestinal canals of worms. Hence the term "animal mould" would be in some respects more appropriate than that commonly used, 66 vegetable mould,"

2. Conclusion.

Worms are poorly provided with sense-organs; for they cannot be said to see, although they can just distinguish between light and darkness; they are completely deaf, and have only a feeble power of smell; the sense of touch alone is well developed. They can therefore learn little about the outside world, and it is surprising that they should exhibit some skill in lining their burrows with their castings and with leaves, and in the case of some species in piling up their castings into tower - like constructions. But it is far more surprising that they should apparently exhibit some degree of intelligence instead of a mere blind instinctive impulse, in their manner of plugging up the mouths of their burrows. They act in nearly the same manner as would a man, who had to close a cylindrical tube with different kinds of leaves, petioles, triangles of paper, etc., for they commonly seize such objects by their pointed ends. But with these objects a certain number are drawn in by their broader ends. They do not act in the same unvarying manner in all cases, as do most of the lower animals; for instance, they do not drag in leaves by their footstalks, unless the basal part of the blade is as narrow as the apex, or narrower than it.

When we behold a wide, turf-covered expanse, we should remember that its smoothness, on which so much of its beauty depends, is mainly due to all the inequalities having been slowly levelled by worms. It is a marvellous reflection that the whole of the superficial mould over any such expanse has passed, and will again pass, every few years through the bodies of worms. The plough is one of the most ancient and most valuable of man's inventions; but long before he existed the land was in fact regularly ploughed, and still continues to be thus ploughed

* Dr. Darwin's mother was a daughter of Josiah Wedgwood, the celebrated founder of the modern pottery manufacture in England.

by earth-worms. It may be doubted whether there are many animals which have played so important a part in the history of the world as have these lowly organized creatures. Some other animals, however, still more lowly organized-namely, corals-have done far more conspicuous work in having constructed innumerable reefs and islands in the great oceans; but these are almost confined to the tropical zones.

Formation of Vegetable Mould through the Action of Worms (1882).

A STUDY OF GEORGE ELIOT.

EDWARD DOWDEN, LL.D.

(Professor of English Literature in the University of Dublin.) When we have passed in review the works of that great writer who calls herself George Eliot,* and given for a time our use of sight to her portraitures of men and women, what form, as we move away, persists on the field of vision, and remains the chief centre of interest for the imagination? The form not of Tito, or Maggie, or Dinah, or Silas,† but of one who, if not the real George Eliot, is that second self who writes her books, and lives and speaks through them. Such a second self of an author is perhaps more substantial than any mere human personality encumbered with the accidents of flesh and blood and daily living. It stands at some distance from the primary self, and differs considerably from its fellow. presents its person to us with fewer reserves; it is independent of local and temporary motives of speech or of silence; it knows no man after the flesh; it is more than an individual; it utters secrets, but secrets which all men of all ages are to catch; while behind it lurks well pleased the veritable historical self secure from impertinent observation and criticism. With this

It

second self of George Eliot it is, not with the actual historical person, that we have to do. And when, having closed her books, we gaze outward with the mind's eye, the spectacle we see is that most impressive spectacle of a great nature, which has suffered and has now attained, which was perplexed and has now grasped the clue-standing before us not without tokens on lip and brow of the strife and the suffering, but resolute, and henceforth possessed of something which makes self-mastery * Marian Evans, successively Mrs. George Lewes and Mrs. Cross (1820-1880). +Tito, a character in Romola; Maggie, in The Mill on the Floss; Dinah, in Adam Bede; Silas, in Silas Marner.