CHAPTER XXIV. 



SEEN AND LOST. 



WE can imagine what the feelings of a lapidary 

 would be an enthusiast whose life is given to the 

 study of precious stones, and whose sole delight is 

 in the contemplation of their manifold beauty if a 

 stranger should come in to him, and, opening his 

 hand, exhibit a new unknown gem, splendid as ruby 

 or as sapphire, yet manifestly no mere variety of 

 any familiar stone, but differing as widely from all 

 others as diamond from opal or cat's-eye ; and then, 

 just when he is beginning to rejoice in that strange 

 exquisite loveliness, the hand should close and the 

 stranger, with a mocking smile on his lips, go forth 

 and disappear from sight in the crowd. A feeling 

 such as that would be is not unfrequently experi- 

 enced by the field naturalist whose favoured lot it 

 is to live in a country not yet " thoroughly worked 

 out," with its every wild inhabitant scientifically 

 named, accurately described, and skilfully figured in 

 some colossal monograph. One swift glance of the 

 practised eye, ever eagerly searching for some new 

 thing, and he knows that here at length is a form 

 never previously seen by him ; but his joy is per- 

 haps only for a few moments, and the prize is 

 snatched from sight for ever. The lapidary might 



