M. C. COOKE ON BLACK MOULDS. 269 



merits — between the watch and the microscope ? Without personal 

 insinuation, may I not affirm that in the hands of hundreds the 

 microscope fulfills no higher purpose than the watch in the hands of 

 a child? Its marvels, its mysteries, fill with astonishment and 

 delight. There is the tick, and nothing more. Setting aside all pro- 

 fessional men who employ the microscope of a necessity in their 

 profession, what proportion of the rest ever go beyond the age of 

 childhood, the era of toys ? Because it is popular, because it fur- 

 nishes employment for leisure hours, because it is an amusement 

 amongst friends, or because some one else has purchased a micro- 

 scope, are amongst the reasons why many a one commences, and its 

 continuance is too often in the same spirit. Let us look amongst 

 ourselves, and enquire what are ive all doing with the microscope — 

 what work do we get out of it ? — and if compelled to the confession 

 that we get none, then it is only a toy. 



A person, for instance, has a microscope — he is fond of it — uses 

 it every evening after the toils of the day are over — can manipulate 

 it well — has a happy knack of controlling the light. He has also a 

 collection of objects, all of which he examines with pleasure, adding 

 to them occasionally, either by his own industry or the kindness of 

 a friend. In his family circle such an one is exemplary. His objects 

 are exhibited and explained to his family and his acquaintances, and 

 many an impromptu lecture is elicited on the marvels of minute life. 

 He goes out on Saturday with the excursion, and brings home 

 Volvox or Stephanoceros, or a red Hydrachne or Hydra viridis, and 

 thus year after year he pursues the same quiet course, trying to see 

 the Volvox roll over and over to the best advantage. Or it may be 

 that he is possessed of a more energetic temperament, and must 

 endeavour to mount thinner and cleaner sections of wood or muscular 

 fibre than any one else, or he will spend evening after evening in the 

 vain endeavour to mount something, which the experienced mounter 

 will sell him for a shilling, and much better done, simply because it 

 is a specialty. And thus, over the whole range of microscopical 

 research, he will flutter like a butterfly over a garden of roses, 

 alighting here and there, but finding no rest. I would not condemn 

 such a man, if what he is doing seems to be right in his own eyes, 

 but a friendly hint may be of avail, if it only induces him to ask of 

 himself the question, Am I using the microscope as a toy, or am I 

 flattering myself with the delusion that I am using it as an instru- 

 ment for the advancement of Science? 



