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to Regent Park. London streets we found excellent for cycling, and on this occasion I was particularly struck by the many practical uses which the citizens make of the wheel, bakers and venders of various small wares being frequently met peddling the round of their morning deliveries.
At noon a sixpence bought us an excellent dinner at a vegetarian restaurant. Then followed a visit to the New British Museum, a branch of the old one. It is one of the most extensive natural history collections in the world, and it fills one with delight, whose tastes lie in such directions, to see everything so nicely kept and arranged in such order. From the carefully labelled specimens a boy could get a practical knowledge of the natural history of the world by spending a few months there without an instructor. This is a sight that a visitor should not miss when seeing London. In the evening we went to see Henry Irving and Ellen Terry play “ Thomas d'Becket.”
Next day we rode down into the busy part of London. Having failed to get into the morning service at St. Paul's Cathedral, we went to see the Tower Bridge. Crossing the Thames by the bridge, we rode down to Greenwich Observatory, which is prettily located a few miles below London. We crossed the Thames by ferry near Greenwich, and rode up the river and visited the Tower of London, where we saw the crown and jewels of the Queen. After dinner we visited Toynbee Hall; also back of it we found Baliol Hall. These are college settlements and are located in the White Chapel district. We were very much surprised to see how clean everything was kept. Those two settlements are doing a helpful work in that notorious part of the city. My companion having business to attend to, we separated and I took the beautiful driveway up the Thames to the Houses of Parliament. A policeman kindly looked after my wheel while I went inside and explored those great buildings. The two important sights were the House of Commons and the House of Lords. Across the street was Westminster Abbey. Under its roof was an interesting sight to American eyes. In the poet's corner, among England's great celebrities, stood a white marble bust of our own dearly beloved Longfellow — loved not only by Americans but by England's best sons and daughters, who had put him among their own. On the day that I beheld that masterpiece of the sculptor's art, on one corner of the pedestal hung a fresh rose, and underneath it a wreath. As I placed my visiting-card on the pile of other cards below him, tears of joy could not be kept back, and my heart swelled with emotion at the honor and love shown to our New England poet.
At 4 P.M., at the National Gallery of Art, I met my friend. Over an hour was spent inside, after which we rode to Hyde Park. At that hour the élite of London society show themselves in their richest dress and finest turnouts. The young men were out for their promenades. They were dressed pretty much alike — high silk hats, frock-coats (very long), and the pantaloons turned up—“ it was a showery day in London.” A young American, interested in rescue work” in the slums, who was staying at Baliol Hall, in White Chapel, came to see us at our lodgings. After tea together at a vegetarian restaurant, he took us into a large theatre, the price of admission to which was placed at the very reasonable price of a sixpence (twelve cents.) Here we saw how the common English people enjoy themselves. We had to go out for fresh air often, for people are allowed to smoke in their seats, and very soon after the curtain rose a dense cloud of smoke from their pipes rendered the atmosphere intolerable to any except the initiated. It was a variety show very similar in character to those given in the cheaper theatres of Boston. The living pictures were new to us, and were well worth the entrance fee. Indeed, while two or three might be called immodest, there were some that showed all the sweetness and purity of domestic life, and were evidence that the tastes of those English workmen were far from depraved. Those living pictures surpassed all art. They presented beauty and truth in its reality. If we call them art, the figures were God's art, and the arrangement only could man claim as his art.
After the performance we went to Piccadilly to see the throngs of people that gather there as they pour from the theatres. The streets were crowded. Flashily dressed and highly painted women were there in scores, crowding and jostling the passers-by. There London life could be studied in one of its most forbidding aspects. Evil did not have full sway, however, for soldiers, active and earnest, and armed with an indomitable purpose, met it face to face. It was a gratifying sight to see the uniformed Salvation Army women working here and there among these stray sheep of their sex.
Rain on Sunday did not prevent us from going out to services. Spurgeon's great Tabernacle attracted me in the morning, where the son of the great preacher, Thomas Spurgeon, delivered a fine discourse. On the street I was informed by a gentleman that he is regarded as a greater pulpit orator than his father. There was neither choir nor organ. Services commenced at II A.M., and continued for about one and a half hours. After dinner I went early to Westminster Abbey, to get a good seat. At 3 P.M. the great abbey was filled to standing. Archdeacon Frederic W. Farrar preached an excellent sermon. He reminds one of our own preachers. He quoted a great deal, but did it with rare skill. The organ and choir made the old abbey's walls reverberate with sweet strains. The long nave and wings certainly aided much to produce the effect. One must go into the old cathedrals of England when service is being held, and on a summer's day, when all is cool and quiet within, hear the boy-choir and accompanying music fill the long nave and aisles. The sweetest melody raises one to another world for the moment, and then one can realize the attracting power of such places of worship. The organist at Westminster Abbey is spoken of as one of the finest in the world.
On Monday we were up early. I saw my chum start for Paris, but remained behind myself to revisit many places which had been hurried through before. At the museums and art galleries, and even on the streets, one can tell the sightseers by the guide-books they carry. For novelty's sake, I took the underground railroad in returning to my lodgings. Its tunnels extend for miles beneath the city.
July 17 was my last day in the great city of London. The British Museum took a great deal of my time, and I saw many things and had to leave many things unseen, for a person cannot see London in one week. In the afternoon I took my luggage to the station, and registered it through to Paris for a shilling (twenty-four cents). Bicycle and luggage being disposed of, I was free to take the next train to West Brighton. Brighton is a great wateringplace on the south coast of England. A few hours sufficed to explore that beautiful and clean-looking town, before a train arrived to carry me to New Haven. The steamship Normandy did not sail for France until 11 P.M., so the time was spent observing the wharves. To these wharves the produce from France was landed and then shipped to the greates market in the world. This business gave occupation to gangs of longshoremen. fireman employed on the railway conversed some with me. His salary was about six dollars per week, and he confidentially told me that he expected soon to get married; but six dollars in that part of England was equal to nine or ten in America.
The Atlantic Ocean may not sicken one who has had experience at sea before, but even old sailors succumb to seasickness in crossing the English Channel. The run from New Haven to Dieppe
takes only about five and one-half hours, but in that short run many suppers were lost, and try as hard as I could, mine had to hare the common fate before we reached shore.
FRANCE. We landed at a great, high wharf at daylight, and a train stood waiting to take us to Paris. We had just time enough to take a look at the town of Dieppe, and then we were off.
were off. My ticket permitting a stop-over at Rouen, I visited that old town. It is on the Seine, and its cathedrals attracted me most. Notre Dame is the largest, and looked very ancient. Its eastern spire is very tall, slender, and skeleton-like. One can see through it in many places. With my pocket full of centimes (five hundred equal about one dollar), I walked the streets, buying fruit and other eatables, which constituted my breakfast. It was amusing to listen to myself trying to speak French. At first French sounded all alike, but when one must speak one generally will, and on that morning I learned a great deal of French, some of which I shall never forget. The 9 A.M. train was taken for Paris. The ride was along the winding Seine River. The ripened grain-fields with scarlet poppies growing up among the stocks enriched the
No fences separated the fields of the different crops. Women were reaping in the fields, and it was surprising to see some, in this advanced age of reapers, still using the little sickle, cutting only a handful at a time. Shower after shower fell upon our train as we slowly traveled to Paris. The peasants talked in the apartments, and I, with conversation-book in my hand, listened attentively for easy words to add to my vocabulary.
PARIS. Paris was reached at 1.25 P.M. I was tired and hungry. I got my wheel out of the customs and rode to 4 Rue Scribe, and then started to hunt up my friend, but I met him coming down the avenue on an old solid-tyred safety, a regular bone-shaker. He was all excited, since he had to hurry to catch a boat down the Seine. I accompanied him to Versailles, where we saw the Palace and grounds. The streets from the boat-landing at Sabre were very poor in many places, but coming back we had some smooth roads, except in Paris, where we met more rough riding. The Boulevards are excellent in most places, but once off those and you suffer, even on a pneumatic.
My friend had lodgings at same apartment with Mr. Kelly, an American preacher, so I had to go to a hotel, where I got a comfortable room for a franc a night (twenty cents.) Rooms are very cheap in Paris, and next day I could have secured a room with a young English student for fifty cents a week. The breakfasts in Paris are made up usually of coffee and rolls and cost about five cents, but we had to have more rolls than the natives, and for a bowl of chocolate made with milk we paid eight cents. At the Young Men's Christian Association a jeton costing one franc (twenty cents) entitled you to a four-course dinner. At the American Club, composed of many artists, a person, through an introduction to the club, could get a dinner for about the same price.
July 18 I arose at 6 A.m., and a walk through Paris brought me to the customs, where a small fee secured me my luggage. On the way I walked through the Luxemborg Gardens and visited Notre Dame Cathedral, both fine structures filled with works of art. The markets were busy places to visit and were the most interesting sights of the morning. In taking a 'bus back to my hotel I had to change from one to another, and my French was too limited to tell where I wanted to go and to understand the conductors; but my eyes found the 'bus after a dozen mistakes. In such cases the deaf and dumb movement worked best, for you can write your French and you can have them write it down in return. At 2 P.M. I met my friend, and we visited the old jail where Marie Antoinette was imprisoned. The Louvre, with its halls full of the handiwork of the old masters, next attracted us. Ruben's and Murillo's work was represented by many large paintings, mostly historic.
Next day sightseeing on the streets of Paris with an English student was the pleasure of the morning. In the afternoon I joined my friend at Napoleon's tomb. The paintings in the Luxemborg claimed our attention before visiting the Pantheon, Jardin des Plantes, Morgue, and other lesser sights. After supper the Grand Opera gave us an excellent entertainment until near midnight.
July 21 was a fine day, but warm. My chum left for England, and I was left entirely alone to see something of European life. Business occupied me some of the day, but I managed to climb up on the Arch de Triomph; from that height I took a bird's-eye view of Paris. Getting other views from different parts of Paris was the work of the late afternoon. Some of the cemetaries were visited ; in one, the graves of Abelard and Heloise were hunted out. Sunday morning was pleasant. A ride through Paris brought me to the Bois de Boulogne. This is Paris's beautiful park. In no other city did I ever see such numbers of cyclers on a Sunday. The women dressed well, generally in knickerbockers to the knee and long stockings, with slippers or boots. What would excite surprise in one of our cities caused none there. Everybody seemed to go about his own business. Women cycling alone were numerous.
In the Bois I met a young Englishman, and he took me in charge for the rest of the day. I left him at dark to hurry to my hotel with my wheel, for I had no lamp. My generous companion proved to be William Gaze, whose father is one of the Gaze's of the well-known firm of Henry Gaze & Sons, the tourist agents, who have officers in all the principal cities of Europe. I had been told that the Seine water was bad to drink and that one ought to drink wine in its place. The Seine water was not very good, but in the Latin quarter near my hotel several artesian wells were found Aowing all the time, and the water was cold and sparkling.
After a visit to the Eiffel Tower and many other important sights, on July 23 I went to the Paris consul of the Cyclists' Touring Club to ascertain the best route through France to Switzerland, and received a promise that he would mail it to me. Next day I waited for it in vain until noon, when I was forced to lay out my route for myself by consulting the map of France at the American Club.
After a good dinner my journey commenced. It was difficult to get out of Paris, but by writing my request on a card, the right road to Melun was found, and Fontainebleau was reached just at supper-time. By resorting to the deaf and dumb method, lodgings were secured in a small inn.
Next day my journey through four hundred miles of France began in earnest. The country was park-like, the roads were hard and beautiful, and when it would rain, I would stop and talk to the peasants by the roadside, learning much French, and I soon saw that I was wrong in thinking that the ride through France would be the hardest of the tour. In fact, the French treated me so kindly and were so hospitable that not only did I love their country, but I learned to love the French people. The French rise very early, and by following their example, the roads being mostly excellent, I could cover about one hundred miles every day on the average. I rode through many pretty towns, stopping over night at Tonnerre and Dijon. On the third day I had to stop, after entering the Jural Mountains, at a small town named Levier, owing to a slight illness. Saturday I felt well, so I struggled all the morning with the Jural Mountains, and just before reaching Pontparlier I enjoyed a novel scene. On the outskirts of that town I saw the soldiers shelling the woods, and from a distance one could hear the screech of the shells flying through the air, and then see them burst a mile or so away. Soldiers were everywhere, and I realized that I was near the Swiss frontier. After leaving Pontparlier and winding through narrow defiles in the mountains, the grade began to descend. The roads were bad in some places, but rideable. On one winding hill I came through a little mountain hamlet, and a dog attacked me so savagely that I failed to see the French soldier until I had ridden by, but a command to halt brought me off my wheel in quick time. He led me to an office where I was examined and compelled to pay a fee. The ride down into Switzerland was delightful and exciting, but it was stopped at the Swiss customs, and before departing from their office eight dollars in gold had to be paid for duty. After shaking hands with the custom officers, I was soon spinning along some fine roads in the land of " crags and peaks.”
J. HARNER WILSON. 20
Gloomy, gray rocks and sullen, threatening brine,
While myriad sails far in the distance shine,
And bidding mortals seek a safe retreat
With nought but Nature wroth the eye to greet.
For love so strong and true binds fast our souls,
That Cupid's song e'en in the billow rolls,
I. BIOLOGY, DURING the last three years of its history, Tufts College has made greater advancement in the department of biology than in that of any
other study in the catalogue. Before Professor Kingsley took charge of the department the work done was of minor importance and of little interest, but since he has
been connected with the museum there has gradually arisen a new interest in biological work, more especially in the line of original research. Papers have been introduced, under the head of “Tufts College Studies,” in which are published the theses of the men doing the research work; the library of the museum has grown quite noticeably; and the laboratories have been greatly improved.
The number of students also has increased very appreciably from a small half-dozen in the first year to almost fifty, who are now receiving instruction in the various classes which the department presents. But the purpose of this article is not to give a history so much as it is to offer a brief survey of the work for the ensuing year. The first of these classes is biology I., a class composed mostly of Freshmen and Sophomores to the number of nineteen, which is doing general biology work — the study and dissection of such forms as the grasshopper, cricket, seaurchin, star-fish, and plant forms. This work is for the full year and requires four hours of laboratory work and two lectures each week. Botany is offered with zoology for a continuation of biology I., and these two subjects attract a few of the students.
Biology III., or comparative anatomy, is the next course offered, and is a continuation of the study of the structure and physiology of animals begun in biology I. Six are at present taking this course, and the work done has been on such forms as the shark, frog, earth-worm, and batrachia in general. The subject of histology has three students, all of whom are taking biology as their major subject. Since this class has just started, little can be said of their work. They are taking up at present the structure of the epithelium cells, the work for the term being the study of the various tissues of the body. About twenty students from the medical department come out twice a week for instruction in histology, which they take in two divisions together with other undergraduate students.
In the line of original investigation there are a number of men, undergraduates and fellows, working under the direction of Professor Kingsley. These studies are mostly made in fields that have been very little worked upon, and the student is expected to make a complete diagnosis of the question upon which he is at work. One of these subjects is the study of the development of the skull, a study which is being followed out in detail in several forms. The theory has been held until recently that the cartilage which forms the embryonic skull was derived from the mesoderm or middle body-layer. About two years ago the very interesting discovery was made in the laboratory here by one of the students that this cartilage was derived not from the mesoderm but from the ectoderm or outer body-layer, i.e., the skin ; consequently the work in that line is being very rapidly pushed on and some further proofs may soon be looked for.
Another interesting problem is presented by the development of the circulation in batrachia. In these forms the general features of the circulatory system, especially those of the heart and gills, are known, but almost nothing is known of the details of the circulation in other parts. The derivation of the cell-layer lining the circulatory organs is also uncertain ; consequently the study of this topic is of great importance. The same student who made the above-mentioned discovery is also working out the relationship of the peculiar lung-fishes of South America, Africa, and Australia to other groups of somewhat similar structure. Whether they are near the ancestors of the frog, as some think, or whether they are related to the lower forms of fishes, as others maintain, is uncertain. A study of the African species of these forms is being made, accordingly, particularly as regards the nerves of the head.
It seems rather peculiar that in so well-known a form as the lobster the general arrangement of the muscles should not be known, and yet our knowledge is almost entirely limited to those which move the legs and some of those which bend the tail ; and even in these our information is for the greater part superficial. These muscles are being very carefully studied, and prove to be far more complicated in their structure and action than has been up to this time supposed.
Perhaps one of the most interesting studies is that of the forms of Pauropus and Scolopendrella, two minute animals which are closely allied to the centipedes and galley-worms, yet having many distinct features peculiar to themselves. Owing to their minute size, their internal structure was almost entirely unknown. This has been assiduously studied, however, and seems to show conclusively the proper position of these forms.
Another important and interesting problem is that which affects the frogs and salamanders.