August 14, 18S5.1 



SCIENCE. 



131 



union of these narrowed sepal-leaves in the 

 monopetalous calj'x is induced by the highl}- 

 refined sap circulating in a part of the plant so 

 distal, so remote. " In the calyx, Nature pro- 

 duces nothing new. She simpl}- unites and 

 changes parts alread}^ familiar, and so rises by 

 one step nearer her destination." 



Now, as the calyx owes its character to the 

 refinements of organs preceding it, so it in 

 turn becomes an organ of filtration ; and from 

 the crowded vessels of the sepal comes the 

 pure liquid which makes possible the petal. 

 Colored petals indicate that the nourishing 

 fluid has reached a high degree of refinement, 

 white, of absolute purity. The equivalenc}^ 

 of sepal and petal is shown by the usual com- 

 parison, Goethe adding onl}^ that as the sepal 

 evinces contraction, so does the petal expan- 

 sion, and we are thus prepared for the last 

 degree of contraction in the formation of the 

 stamen. The foliar nature of the latter organ, 

 as of the carpels, is shown in the familiar way. 

 The petaloid stjde of the iris is cited, as also 

 the reversion so common among crowfoots, 

 tulips, etc. 



But it is to the nectar}^ (a very comprehen- 

 sive term in Goethe's time) that the poet here 

 gives chief attention. Nectaries seem to occu- 

 P3^ an intermediate place between stamens and 

 petals, now partaking of the character of one 

 organ, now of the other. Goethe inclines to 

 the opinion that nectaries are undeveloped sta- 

 mens. He is certain, at least, that the nectar 

 itself is concerned in tlie fertilization of the 

 flower ; for, " after fertilization, the nectar dis- 

 appears, and no more is formed." He con- 

 ceived that the nectar might be an imperfect 

 fertilizing fluid ; that the pollen-grains are so 

 manv minute vesicles containing an exceeding- 

 ly delicate matter elaborated by the vessels of 

 the stamen, and destined to be absorbed by the 

 pistil. 



Think of all this in view of the modern doc- 

 trine of fertilization and cross-fertilization, and 

 3'ou begin to appreciate the inventive genius 

 of the man, hovering about his subject, and 

 almost divining that which he could not clearl}" 

 see, and then his conclusion: " The forms of 

 plants about us are not originally determined 

 and invariably fixed, but unite with some per- 

 sistence of generic, specific, and individual 

 character, a fortunate power to var}- and to 

 accommodate themselves to circumstances, so 

 as to be able to meet and adapt themselves to 

 the varying conditions which come upon the 

 earth." Darwin might have written it : Dar- 

 win could have said no more. 



Such is a brief outline of Goethe's contribu- 



tion to botanical science. The importance of 

 his discovery can scarce be over-estimated, 

 while its beauty can be appreciated onh' after 

 careful examination, not oi\\y of the discov- 

 ery itself, but likewise of the manner of its 

 attainment. As to the latter, we are happily 

 not left in doubt. The poet has himself given 

 us a concise account of every step of his prog- 

 ress. We may see the impassioned enthusi- 

 asm of Linne stimulating societ}^ universal, 

 so that Goethe sa3'S it fairly ' floated him 

 along.' What an era in wliich to live, — the 

 ver}^ springtime of science, the air redolent 

 of odors of the life to be ! Even petulant, 

 passionate Rousseau forgets for the nonce his 

 dreams of social compact, and, charmed with 

 the beauty of the living world, becomes bot- 

 anist, and even begins a botanical dictionary. 

 The spirit of investigation was abroad, and 

 Goethe entered his morphological studies with 

 all the energ}^ of his nature. His ideas took 

 possession of him. The voice of Nature cried : 

 he could not choose but hear. His work be- 

 came a passion, a leidenschaft he calls it, from 

 which even the marbles of Italy and the pal- 

 aces of the ' eternal city ' could not divert 

 him. He was a poet ; but he suddenly found 

 out that Nature, too, is poetic, and that even 

 her most gifted child has nothing that he has 

 not received, nor has so much that he may not 

 crave and receive the more. The facts of Na- 

 ture were before him : his thought responded 

 to the thought in Nature. It seemed as if it 

 were so. It must be so. It was so. 



It is said that each individual lives in epitome 

 the life-history of his race. May it not be 

 said that in this brief sketch of the rise of a 

 single scientific doctrine we have found those 

 agencies which make possible all and every 

 science, — the light of the e^^e, the light of the 

 intellect, and the vivid brilliancy of the imagi- 

 nation, — Linne, Wolff", Goethe, — the system- 

 atist, the student, and tlie poet? 



T. H. McBkide. 



AN ATTEMPT TO PHOTOGRAPH THE 

 SOLAR CORONA WITHOUT AN ECLIPSE. 



Since writing my last communication on this sub- 

 ject, I have made a series of investigations with the 

 object of improving my apparatus, if possible, and 

 of obtaining some quantitative measurements of the 

 light reflected by the atmosphere near the sun. To 

 avoid the reflection of the light from the surfaces of 

 the glass, I removed my achromatic lens, and sub- 

 stituted for it a simple spectacle-glass of one and 

 three-eighths inches diameter, and forty-nine inches 

 focus. As the diameter was relatively so small, the 



