130 
NATURE NOTES. 
upon anything we “ should expect to find.” The most un- 
expected things often appear which may quite upset all a priori 
arguments. For example, from previous experience I might 
never have expected to find any varieties of Draba verna ; but 
M. Jordan who did, says he has cultivated about two hundred! 
Mr. Alder alludes to the constancy of the line of hairs in 
Veronica Clianuzdrys. I might have expected no change in the 
similar line of hairs in chickweed, having been familiar with it 
for some forty years. But, in plants growing in Malta, I found 
specimens with a transition from the line of hairs to a general 
diffusion of hairiness all round the stem. So much for 
expectations ! 
Mr. Alder uses the word “ created.” If he intimates by 
that word that he does not believe in evolution of any sort, I 
fear we must “agree to differ” as to the origin of species; 
except that I, too, do not accept “fortuitous variations,” but in 
variations of structure arising through the joint action of the 
environment on the responsive powers of the living protoplasm. 
George Henslow. 
THE IMPENDING DESTRUCTION OF KEW AIT. 
ULL, unvaried, and almost fen-like in character, are 
the willow-bordered reaches of the Thames between 
Barnes and Kew Bridge, and a feeling of disappoint- 
ment overtakes the pedestrian on the towing-path or 
the rower in mid-stream, making their way up the river for the 
first time, and looking in vain for the sylvan beauties which, 
they have heard, clothe its banks. At last the old grey stone 
bridge at Kew is neared, and through its arches are seen 
glimpses of bright green foliage. A moment more and the other 
side is gained, and there bursts upon the long-expectant eyes 
of the tourists a scene of magnificent woodland beauty. An ait, 
or river-islet, stretches up the stream for well-nigh half-a-mile, 
no mere meadow or osier swamp, but clad with noble elms, 
whose lace-work branches rear proudly aloft their leaves of soft 
green hue full seventy feet in mid air. Humbler, but no less 
beautiful, are the horse chestnuts, whose leaves grow darker as 
summer wears away, brightening the scene for, alas ! too short a 
time, with their masses of cream-coloured blossom. Nor must 
be forgotten the rugged hawthorn, from whose gnarled and 
twisted branches have long since been wafted the snow-white 
petals, and the sombre grey-green bush must wait till autumn 
clothes it with scarlet berries, that will cling there long after the 
last yellow leaf from elm and chestnut have turned brown amidst 
the herbage, or floated away on the tide. Such are the glories 
so amply provided by Nature — a foretaste of even greater beau- 
ties that our travellers will see further up the winding stream ; 
