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How to Use This Atlas
Each double-page spread in this atlas covers a particular type of habitat (the place where an animal lives). For example, the spread shown below is about European conifer forests. Habitats are arranged by continent, and there is a section in the book for each of
Where on Earth?
This globe shows you where in the world the habitat featured on the spread is situated and its rough extent. On this page, for example, the red color shows the area covered by the European conifer forests.
the continents—North America, South America, Europe, Africa, Asia, Australasia, and Antarctica. The heading at the top of each page tells you which section you are in. Below you can see what the maps and symbols on each spread show, and what the abbreviations stand for.
Latin names
Scientists have given each species of animal a Latin name, so that people all over the world can use the same name, no matter what language they speak. An animal’s Latin name is divided into two parts. The first part is a group name given to a number of similar animals. For example, Felis is the group name given to all small cats. The second part of the name identifies the particular species of animal and often describes one of its specific characteristics. The full name for the wild cat shown here is Felis silvestris, which means “cat of the woods.”
How big?
Labels next to each animal give the animal’s vital statistics: its height, length, or wingspan. Like people, animals of the same species vary in size, so the measurement can only be approximate. Individual animals may be bigger or smaller than this size.
of
and Scandinavia. There are smaller evergreen
farther south, such as the Black Forest in Germany and the Ardennes in Belgium. The most common trees in these forests are conifers (trees that have cones), such as pines, spruces, and firs. In recent years, acid rain, which is especially harmful to trees with needlelike leaves, has damaged many European conifer forests. Animals that live in these forests have to survive in a severe climate.
The winters are bitterly cold, but most conifer trees keep their leaves year round and provide some shelter. Some forest animals, such as the stoat, grow white coats in the winter so that they are camouflaged against the snow. Other animals, such as the wood ant, hibernate during the winter, while some birds, such as the osprey, migrate south to warmer places.
Scale
You can use this scale to figure out the size of the area shown on the map. The maps in the book have been drawn to different scales.
Animal symbols
The animal symbols on the map show the main area where the animals can be found, but some animals are widely distributed over the whole region. There is one symbol for each of the animals illustrated on the spread.
Map
The map shows the area of the habitat featured on the spread and surrounding regions. On these pages, for example, the map shows a large part of Europe, covering the conifer forests and the areas around them. The map also shows major geographic features in the region, and where the animals live. You can see the shape and position of the forests themselves on the globe in the top-left corner of the page.
Photos
The photographs around the map show you what the habitat looks like and what sort of vegetation can be found there.
Animal Groups
About a million different kinds of animals have been discovered and described so far, but there are probably three or four times as many that people have never studied or named. Animals have several features in common.
Invertebrates
Invertebrates (animals without backbones) were the first animals to evolve on Earth, between 600 and 1,000 million years ago. Hundreds of thousands of species are alive today, and they far outnumber the vertebrates (animals with backbones). Invertebrates come in many different shapes and sizes, including corals, jellyfish, insects, snails, spiders, crabs, centipedes, and worms.
Characteristic of invertebrates:
• do not have a backbone
Amphibians
Amphibians evolved from fishes more than 350 million years ago. There are more than 7,000 species alive today, including frogs, toads, and salamanders.
Characteristics of amphibians:
• adults live mainly on land, but breed in water
• cannot maintain a constant body temperature
• skin is usually soft with no scales
• life cycle is usually in three stages: egg, larva (or tadpole), and adult
• tadpoles breathe through gills at first; adults breathe through lungs
Birds
Birds evolved from reptiles about 140 million years ago. There are more than 10,000 species alive today, including parrots, eagles, penguins, kiwis, owls, and storks. Most birds can fly. They are adapted for flight by having wings instead of front legs, a light skeleton with hollow bones, and a covering of feathers.
Characteristics of birds:
• birds are the only living animals with feathers
• breathe with lungs
• can maintain a constant body temperature
• lay eggs with hard, waterproof shells; usually incubate eggs with the heat of their bodies
They move, breathe, feed, grow, have young, and respond to changes in their surroundings. To make animals easier to study, biologists divide them into a number of groups. The main groups are shown below.
Fish
Fish were the first group of vertebrates to evolve from invertebrates about 500 million years ago. There are more than 30,000 species alive today—about the same as all the mammals, birds, reptiles, and amphibians put together. Examples include butterflyfish and sharks.
Characteristics of fish:
• adapted to live in water
• absorb oxygen from the water through gills; a few have lungs as well
• have fins to help them swim
• bodies are usually covered with scales
Reptiles
Reptiles evolved from amphibians about 300 million years ago. More than 10,000 species are alive today, including lizards, snakes, tortoises, turtles, and crocodiles. The dinosaurs were also reptiles.
Characteristics of reptiles:
• cannot maintain a constant body temperature; may sleep through very hot or very cold weather
• have dry, scaly skin, sometimes with bony plates for protection
• most live and breed on land
• breathe with lungs
Mammals
Mammals evolved from reptiles about 200 million years ago, during the age of the dinosaurs. There are nearly 6,000 species alive today, including kangaroos, rats, cats, elephants, whales, bats, monkeys, and humans.
Characteristics of mammals:
• mother feeds her young on milk
• bodies are covered with fur or hair
• can maintain a constant body temperature and have sweat glands to cool their bodies
• intelligent, with large brains
• breathe with lungs
Desert tarantula
Green toad
Monarch butterfly
Scarlet macaw Kiwi
Kangaroo rat
Siberian tiger
Western diamondback rattlesnake
Butterflyfish
Blue shark
Collared lizard
Japanese giant salamander
Animal Habitats
Animals live all over the world, from the frozen Arctic to hot deserts. The place where an animal lives is called its habitat. Many species can live together in the same habitat because they eat different kinds of food or make their homes in different places. The animal life in any habitat is a finely balanced mixture of species, and this balance can easily be disturbed.
The map on these two pages shows the main types of habitats around the world. Animals have adapted to live in each of these habitats by developing characteristics that help them survive. Similar types of habitats can be found in different parts of the world, and the animals that live there have
adapted in similar ways. For instance, the kit fox that lives in the North American deserts looks very similar to the fennec fox that lives in the Sahara Desert.
Physical barriers, such as mountains and seas, prevent many animals from moving freely from one place to another. Some, however, can fly or swim, so they spread over large areas. Tortoises, for example, can swim or float great distances across the sea.
NORTH
Polar and tundra
The low temperatures, biting winds, and long, dark winters make the Arctic and Antarctic very harsh environments for animals. Yet many animals do survive there, especially in the seas or on the frozen lands around the Arctic, called the tundra. In the brief summer period, many animals migrate to the Arctic to breed and raise their young.
Find out more: pages 8–9, 42–43, 59.
Coniferous forests
The largest forests in the world stretch across the top of North America, Europe, and Asia. They are called the taiga. The trees are mostly conifers, such as fir and spruce, with needlelike leaves that stay on the trees year round. These forests provide food and shelter for many animals, especially during the cold winter months.
Find out more: pages 10–11, 28–29, 42–43.
Deciduous woodlands
Deciduous woodlands are found south of the conifer forests, where the climate is mild and rainfall is plentiful throughout the year. The trees are mostly broadleaved species, such as oak and beech, which drop their leaves in the fall and rest over the cooler winter months.
Find out more: pages 10–11, 30–31.
Grasslands
Grasslands grow in places where it is too dry for large areas of trees. The roots of the grasses bind the soil together and provide food for huge herds of grazing animals. There is tropical grassland, called savannah, in Africa, while the North American prairies, South American pampas, and Asian steppe are examples of cooler grasslands.
Find out more: pages 10–11, 26–27, 38–39, 44–45.
Scrubland
Dusty, dry land dotted with tough shrubs and small trees is found around the Mediterranean Sea, in Australia, and in California in the United States. Most rain falls in the winter months, and animals that live in these regions adapt to survive the dry, hot summers. Find out more: pages 32–33.
Deciduous woods once spread across large areas of North America and Europe, but many of them have now been cut down.
The pampas is a huge area of grassland in South America. Much of it is used by farmers for grazing cattle.
The Everglades in Florida is a vast marshland area covered with sawgrass.
Small, scrubby bushes are among the few plants that survive in the dry regions around the Mediterranean Sea.
Deserts
It hardly ever rains in the deserts, so the animals that live there have to survive without drinking for long periods or get all the water they need from their food. They also have to cope with boiling-hot days and freezing-cold nights. Many animals come out only at dawn and dusk when it is cooler and more humid.
Find out more: pages 14–15, 34–35, 44–45, 52–53.
Rainforests
Rainforests grow near the equator, where the weather is warm and humid year round. Most of the trees are evergreen with broad leaves. Rainforests contain the richest variety of wildlife to be found anywhere on Earth. More than 50 percent of all the different kinds of plants and animals in the world live in the rainforests.
Find out more: pages 24–25, 36–37, 54–55.
Marshes and swamp
Marshy, waterlogged places develop near lakes and rivers and along coasts. One of the largest marshland areas is the Everglades in Florida. Mangrove swamps often fringe the coasts in tropical areas. Both these habitats are rich in food supplies and places to breed, and provide homes for a wide variety of animals, especially birds and insects.
Find out more: pages 16–17.
Mountains
Mountains are found in both warm and cold regions of the world. They provide a wide range of habitats for wildlife, from forests on the lower slopes to grassland and tundra farther up. The higher up you go, the colder it becomes. Above a certain height— called the tree line—the temperature is too low for trees to survive. Even higher up is the snow line. Above this it is so cold that the ground is always covered in snow and ice. The climate in mountainous regions can be severe, with low temperatures, fierce winds, and low rainfall. Mountain animals also have to cope with steep, slippery slopes.
Find out more: pages 12–13, 22–23, 46–47.
EUROPE
ASIA
AFRICA
Coral reefs
Coral reefs are made of the skeletons of tiny creatures called corals. Over millions of years they build up on top of one another to form a reef. Reefs develop only in warm, shallow, salty water. A huge variety of fish, corals, sponges, and other animals lives on a reef.
Find out more: page 56.
The central part of Australia—called the outback—consists of dry, rocky deserts where few plants can grow.
A huge area of coniferous trees— the largest forest in the world— stretches across northern Asia.
The biggest coral reef on Earth is the Great Barrier Reef, off the coast of northeastern Australia.
Rainforests are packed with dense jungle vegetation and are home to a wide variety of animals.
Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa lies almost on the equator, but it is so high that its peak is covered in snow.
The Arctic
The arctic consists of the northernmost parts of North America, Europe, and Asia, which is tundra (frozen land), and a huge area of frozen ocean around the North Pole. It is one of the coldest places on Earth. The temperature rarely rises above 50°F (10°C), and in the winter it often drops to –40°F (–40°C). During the brief summer period, it is light for 24 hours a day. Light and warmth encourage the growth of tiny sea animals and plants called plankton, which are eaten by fish, seals, and birds. On land, flowers bloom, providing food for millions of insects. Many birds migrate to the Arctic to breed and raise their young. When the winter sets in again, these birds return to warmer climates.
Food store
During the summer the Arctic fox stores food, such as dead birds, under rocks. Thanks to the cold climate, this food keeps as well as it would in a refrigerator. The fox eats it in the winter months, when fresh food is hard to find. The fox’s thick fur coat helps it survive in temperatures as low as –58°F (–50°C).
in (2.9 m)
Wonderful
whiskers
The bearded seal lives in the seas around the edge of the ice cap. It has long, sensitive whiskers, which it uses to feel for shellfish on the sea bed. In spring, the female hauls herself onto the ice to give birth.
Fearsome fly
The reindeer warble-fly lays its eggs in the fur of caribou and reindeer, which migrate to the Arctic in summer. When the eggs hatch, the grubs burrow through the skin and live in the deer’s flesh. The grubs later fall off and grow into adults.
Lethal paws
The polar bear is a huge animal and can weigh as much as 10 adult people. It feeds mainly on seals, and often catches them at holes in the ice when they come up for air. One swipe from the bear’s massive paws can kill a seal, and its claws then grab and hold onto its prey.
Longest hair
The musk ox has the longest coat of almost any mammal. Some hairs in its outer coat are nearly 3 ft 3 in (1 m) long. If a group of musk oxen are attacked, they form a tight circle and defend themselves with their sharp horns, while the young stand in the middle for protection.
Balloon nose
The male hooded seal has a strange balloonlike structure on the end of his nose. In the breeding season, he blows air into this structure, which can become 12 in (30 cm) long. The air amplifies the loud calls he makes to warn off other males. The hooded seal spends most of its life at sea, searching for fish and squid. It only comes out onto the ice to mate, breed, and molt.
The narwhal is a mammal related to whales and dolphins. It has only two teeth. One of the male’s teeth grows into a long, spiraling tusk, which sticks out through a hole in his top lip. The tusks are used to display dominance, and males have been seen fighting one another with their tusks.
Arctic unicorn
Arctic fox (Alopex lagopus) Body length: up to 2 ft 5 in (75 cm) Tail: up to 16.7 in (42.5 cm )
Reindeer warble-fly (Hypoderma tarandi) Length: up to 0.7 in (1.8 cm)
Bearded seal (Erignathus barbatus) Length: up to 8 ft 2 in (2.5 m)
Hooded seal (Cystophora cristata) Length: up to 8 ft 10 in (2.7 m)
Polar bear (Ursus maritimus)
Height at shoulder: up to 4 ft 11 in (1.5 m)
Body length: up to 9 ft 7
Narwhal (Monodon monoceros)
Body length: up to 16 ft 9 in (5 m)
Tusk: up to 9 ft 10 in (3 m)
Musk ox (Ovibos moschatus) Height at shoulder: up to 5 ft (1.5 m)
Champion migrator
The Arctic tern raises its chicks in the Arctic during the brief summer period. Then it flies 8,000 miles (13,000 km) to Antarctica to take advantage of the summer months there when plenty of food is available. This is the longest migration route of any bird. An Arctic tern can live for 30 years or more, so it may travel more than 500,000 miles (800,000 km) in its lifetime.
Sea canary
Beluga or white whales communicate with each other using a variety of songs, leading 19th-century sailors to know them as “sea canaries.” They also make clicking noises that bounce off objects around them and help them find their way around. In winter, beluga whales gather together in huge herds and migrate south.
Changing color
The Mountain hare can change the color of its coat to match its surroundings. In the winter, its fur is white and gray. This makes it hard to see against the snow. In spring, when the snow melts, the hare sheds its white fur and grows a brown coat.
Island nests
The common eider duck breeds among clumps of grass on small islands in the Arctic Ocean. These remote nesting sites help protect the young. The female bird plucks soft down feathers from her breast and uses them to line the nest. If the parent birds have to leave the nest, they pull the down over the eggs. This keeps the eggs warm and helps hide them from enemies, such as gulls and foxes.
Digging teeth
The walrus has long tusks, which it uses to dig up shellfish and other small animals from the sea bed. Walruses live in large groups and spend much of the day sleeping. In the breeding season, walruses gather together and males compete against each other to win mates.
Beluga whale (Delphinapterus leucas) Length: up to 14 ft 9 in (4.5 m)
Arctic tern (Sterna paradisaea) Length: up to 14 in (36 cm)
Mountain hare (Lepus timidus)
Body
Walrus (Odobenus rosmarus) Length: up to 11 ft 5 in (3.5 m) Tusks: up to 39 in (100 cm)
Common eider (Somateria mollissima) Length: up to 2 ft 4 in (71 cm)
Much of the island of Greenland is covered in flowing rivers of ice, called glaciers.
Few animals live on the frozen polar ice cap, as there are no plants or insects to provide food.
Areas of the Arctic that are not permanently covered in ice are known as tundra, which is frozen under the surface.
Forests, Lakes, and Prairies
The evergreen forests of Canada consist of dense areas of spruce, pine, and fir trees. These forests are marshy underfoot, with many lakes. Farther south, forests of oak, hickory, and chestnut trees once spread across the eastern part of North America, but today, vast areas have been destroyed for lumber or farming. Some forest animals, such as the raccoon and the opossum, have adapted to this new environment, but many have declined in number or retreated to the hills. The prairies once formed a huge sea of grass. Millions of bison and pronghorn antelope once grazed there, but they were almost wiped out by hunters in the 19th century.
Sage grouse (Centrocercus
Length: up to 30 in (76 cm)
Big cheeks
The least chipmunk has large cheek pouches, which it uses to carry food back to its underground burrow. Inside the burrow are chambers used for storing food, living, and nesting. During winter, the chipmunk hibernates in its home.
Sage smells
The sage grouse feeds on the leaves of the sagebrush plant. Eventually its flesh takes on a strong sage flavor. During the spring, the male puts on a special display to win a mate. He puffs out his chest feathers, opens and closes his tail, and inflates the air sacs on his neck, which make loud booming, popping noises.
Pest control
The two-spotted ladybug is common throughout North America and can be found in forests, fields, and gardens. It feeds on small insects and helps keep down the number of pests in gardens and fields. The ladybug’s hard, red wing cases protect its soft wings and body underneath.
Trash raider
The raccoon has long, sensitive fingers that it uses to search for food. It often comes into cities and raids trash cans for leftover food scraps. The raccoon’s thick fur coat keeps it warm during cold winter months.
Heavyweight deer
The moose is the largest deer in the world. In the fall, a male may weigh more than 1,000 lbs (450 kg). The moose’s broad hooves and long legs help it travel through deep snow, bogs, or lakes. Its overhanging top lip enables the moose to tear off leaves and branches. The male uses his antlers to fight other males and win mates.
Bugle bird
Named for its bugle-like call, the whooping crane nests only in a remote area of northwest Canada. By the 1940s it had been almost wiped out by hunting. It is now a protected species.
Raccoon (Procyon lotor
urophasianus)
Least chipmunk (Tamias minimus)
Body
Two-spotted ladybug (Adalia bipunctata) Length: up to 0.25 in (6 mm)
Whooping crane (Grus americana) Height: up to 5 ft 3 in (1.6 m)
Today the flat plains of the prairies are used for growing wheat.
The forest lakes are home to many water birds, including gulls, ducks, and swans. P
MOOSE
BALD EAGLE
Yukon
Barking burrower
The prairie dog is a type of squirrel that lives in networks of tunnels under the prairies. Its name comes from the barking noise it makes when it is alarmed. Before people started to farm the region, prairie dog colonies covered vast areas with millions of inhabitants.
Black-tailed prairie dog
(Cynomys ludovicianus)
Body length: up to 15 in (38 cm)
Tail: up to 3.5 in (9 cm)
White head
The bald eagle gets its name from its white head—an old meaning of the word “bald” is “white.” Bald eagles have spectacular courtship displays, in which the male and the female bird lock talons in flight and somersault through the air. Pairs build a huge nest of sticks, weeds, and soil and add to it each year.
Dam builder
The beaver has powerful jaws and strong front teeth, which it uses to gnaw through tree trunks. The beaver then builds a dam across a river, and a lodge of sticks and mud in the pond that forms.
Terrific traveler
In fall, the monarch butterfly migrates from Canada to California, Mexico, or the Caribbean—flying more than 2,000 miles (3,200 km). It travels north again in the spring, but stops on the way to mate and then die.
Crushing bite
Known to kill animals as large as a caribou, the fierce wolverine is strong for its size, with a powerful, crushing bite. Its widespread toes help it bound across snow chasing its prey. A wolverine can travel over 40 miles (65 km) without resting.
Tree planter
The blue jay often buries acorns and other tree seeds to eat later. Some survive to grow into new trees, helping the forest spread. In spring and fall, large flocks of blue jays migrate south to warmer climates.
Baby pouch
The opossum is North America’s only pouched mammal. The young climb into the mother’s pouch after birth and stay there for several months, feeding on her milk. To escape an enemy, opossums can “play dead,” and may stay in a trancelike state for hours.
North American beaver (Castor canadensis)
Body length: up to 2 ft 11 in (90 cm)
Tail: up to 12 in (30 cm)
Wolverine (Gulo gulo)
Height at shoulder: up to 17 in (43 cm) Body length: up to 3 ft 5 in (105 cm)
Virginia opossum (Didelphis virginiana)
Body length: up to 19.6 in (50 cm)
Tail: up to 18.5 in (47 cm)
Blue jay (Cyanocitta cristata) Length: 11.8 in (30 cm)
Bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) Length: up to 3 ft 2 in (96 cm)
Wingspan: up to 8 ft (2.4 m)
Monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus) Wingspan: up to 4.9 in (12.5 cm)
The Rockies
The rockies are a vast range of mountains that stretch down the western side of North America. The Rockies form a barrier to the moist winds that sweep toward the continent from the Pacific Ocean. As these winds rise up over the mountains and cool, the water they carry falls as rain or snow. On the mountain peaks, winds can reach 200 mph (320 kph) and temperatures may fall to –60°F (–51°C). The Rockies provide a refuge for animals that have been hunted or driven out of other habitats by people. Some species are specially adapted for climbing and jumping on the mountain slopes. Many animals have warm fur to protect them against the cold and the winds.
Grizzled giant
The huge grizzly bear gets its name from the whitish (grizzled) tips of its hair. It can kill an animal as large as a moose or caribou, but usually feeds on smaller animals, fish, and plants. A grizzly can run as fast as a horse for short distances and may stand up on its back legs to get a better view of its prey, which it kills with its long front claws. In fall, the grizzly eats as much as possible to build up stores of fat to last it through its winter hibernation.
Summer butterfly
Male phoebus butterflies appear in the Rockies in mid-summer. They fly across the meadows to find the females, which emerge eight to ten days later.
Spiky armor
The porcupine’s furry coat hides about 30,000 spiky hairs, called quills. When threatened, the porcupine turns its back, raises its quills, and lashes its tail. Its barbed tail quills stick into an enemy’s skin.
Nonskid feet
The bighorn sheep is good at climbing the steep mountain slopes. Each of its hooves is divided into two halves that separate to help the sheep grip the rocks. The male uses its curving horns to fight rivals in the breeding season.
Winter white
In summer the snowshoe hare has brown fur, but in winter it grows a white coat for camouflage against the snow. It also develops dense fur on its feet, which stop it from sinking into the snow.
Spotted camouflage
The bobcat’s spotted coat helps it blend in with its environment, so that it can creep up on its prey. It usually feeds on rabbits and hares, but will eat almost any reptile, mammal, or bird. It can even kill a deer, providing enough food for a week or more.
Grizzly bear (Ursus arctos horribilis) Total length: up to 9 ft 10 in (3 m)
Bighorn sheep (Ovis canadensis) Body length: up to 5 ft 6 in (1.7 m) Horns: up to 4 ft 1 in (126 cm)
Snowshoe hare (Lepus americanus) Length: up to 23 in (58 cm)
Bobcat (Lynx rufus) Height at shoulder: 22.8
Rocky Mountain parnassian (Parnassius sminthius) Wingspan: up to 2.6 in (6.8 cm)
North American porcupine (Erethizon dorsatum)
Tree glider
The northern flying squirrel glides from tree to tree using flaps of skin along the sides of its body that unfold like wings. It can glide up to 125 ft (38 m), moving its legs and using its tail to change direction.
Insect catcher
The mountain bluebird eats seeds, berries, and insects. It darts out from a perch to snatch any insects flying past or flies low to pounce on prey on the ground.
Height to
up to 3 ft 7 in (1.1 m)
Clinging toes
The Rocky Mountain goat has curved toes, which help it cling to steep slopes and rocky crags where it is safe from most enemies. A baby goat can stand minutes after birth, and can follow its mother over the steep slopes within days.
Prowling pouncer
The puma (also called the mountain lion or cougar) stalks its prey at night. It creeps up on its victim and then pounces on it from an overhanging tree or rock. Long, sharp claws help the mountain lion hold its prey, which it kills by biting through the neck.
Feathered feet
The ptarmigan’s feathered feet keep it warm and keep it from sinking into the snow. During the breeding season, the female’s striped feathers camouflage her on the nest. In winter both the male and female grow white feathers to hide them on the snow.
Amazing antlers
The wapiti is a type of deer. During the fall breeding season, the males fight one another with their huge antlers to win mates. A male’s antlers can weigh up to 25 lbs (11 kg). The name wapiti comes from the American Indian word for “white,” and refers to the white patch on the animal’s rear.
Northern flying squirrel (Glaucomys sabrinus)
Wapiti (Cervus canadensis)
Height at shoulder: 5 ft 6 in
Mountain bluebird (Sialia currucoides) Length: up to 7.8 in (20 cm)
White-tailed ptarmigan (Lagopus leucura) Length: up to 13.4 in (34 cm)
Puma (Puma concolor)
Height at shoulder: up to 2 ft 3 in (70 cm)
Body length: up to 7 ft 10 in (2.4 m)
Rocky Mountain goat (Oreamnos americanus)
shoulder:
Up to 200 ft (60 m) of snow may fall on the Rockies each year.
The slopes of the Rockies are covered by fir and pine trees.
Many of North America’s great rivers, such as the Missouri, start in the Rockies.
SNOWSHOE HARE
Western Deserts
The stony deserts of north america cover large areas of the southwestern United States and northern Mexico. The largest is the Great Basin, which is sandwiched between two ranges of mountains—the Rockies to the east and the Sierras to the west. To the south, the Great Basin merges with the Mojave Desert. Between the two lies Death Valley, one of the hottest places on Earth. South of the Mojave is the Sonoran Desert, which is famous for its giant saguaro cacti.
The desert is a harsh environment, but many animals survive there, making the most of the little moisture available. Some survive without drinking at all. Many stay in burrows during the day, emerging only at night when the air is cooler and damper.
Antenna ears
The kit fox is the smallest fox in North America. It comes out at night to hunt, using its huge ears as antennae to track down its prey, which is mainly kangaroo rats, prairie dogs, and rabbits. The fox is able to run very swiftly to overtake and seize them before they disappear down their burrows.
Warning rattle
The western diamondback rattlesnake has a “rattle” on its tail, which scares away animals that might step on it. The rattle is made up of loose rings of hard skin, one of which is left behind when the snake sheds its skin. Rattlesnakes are venomous and kill small animals by striking them with their long fangs.
Spiny fortress
The cactus wren builds a large, domed nest among the spines of a cactus or a thorny bush to keep its young safe from enemies. The bird’s tough feathers and hard, scaly legs protect it from scratches. The wren may also build extra nests to roost in during the winter.
Smelly defense
A spotted skunk protects itself from its enemies by spraying them with a foulsmelling liquid. This comes from scent glands under its tail. The skunk can hit a target accurately from 3.6 m (12 ft) away. Before it sprays, the skunk stands on its hands to display its striking black and white fur as a warning. The skunk comes out mainly at night to hunt for small animals, eggs, insects, and fruit.
Trailing tails
The desert swallowtail butterfly is named after the long, trailing tails on its back wings, which resemble a swallow’s tail. It lives in the mountain canyons of the desert, and only breeds after it rains. The caterpillars of this butterfly give off a foul smell if they are disturbed. This helps frighten off enemies.
Speedy bird
The roadrunner lives on the ground and rarely flies. It has very powerful legs and can run at speeds of up to 15 mph (24 kph). Its long tail helps it swerve suddenly or come to a sharp halt. The roadrunner is very strong, and can kill a snake with one bite from its sharp beak.
Kit fox (Vulpes macrotis) Body length: up to 21 in (53.5 cm) Tail: up to 13 in (34 cm)
Cactus wren (Campylorhynchus brunneicapillus)
Length: up to 7.5 in (19 cm)
Western spotted skunk (Spilogale gracilis)
Body length: up to 14.5 in (37 cm) Tail: up to 8 in (21 cm)
Western diamondback rattlesnake (Crotalus atrox)
Length: up to 7 ft (2.1 m)
Desert swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes coloro) Wingspan: up to 3.5 in (9 cm)
Roadrunner (Geococcyx californianus)
Length: up to 1 ft 10 in (58 cm)
Armor plating
The desert tortoise has a hard shell that protects it from the harsh sun. If the tortoise draws its head and legs into the shell, it is hard for an enemy, such as a fox or a bobcat, to reach its soft body. The tortoise uses its flat front legs to dig its underground burrow.
Cool nest
The gila woodpecker hollows out a nest in the stem of a cactus, such as the giant saguaro. The temperature inside a cactus is much cooler than outside, and the sharp spines on the cactus protect the nest from enemies. If the woodpecker abandons its nest, another bird, such as the tiny elf owl, may take it over.
Sunbather
The common collared lizard hides in rock crevices at night and comes out in the early morning to bask in the sun. The male collared lizard, below, is more brightly colored than the female, but a female carrying fertilized eggs develops red patches on her body.
NORTH AMERICA
Desert spider
The desert tarantula is a type of spider. It hides away for most of the day under a stone or in a hole, and comes out at dawn or dusk to hunt for food or find a mate. Although the tarantula is poisonous, its venom is no stronger than a bee sting and it rarely attacks people.
Fatty tail
The gila monster stores fat in its tail. It uses this as a source of energy when other food is hard to find. The colors and patterns on a gila monster’s skin warn enemies that it is venomous. It produces venom in its lower jaw and passes this into its victims when it bites them.
Leaps and bounds
The black-tailed jackrabbit has powerful back legs and can bound across the desert at speeds of up to 35 mph (56 kph). This helps it escape from coyotes and other enemies. Its huge ears pick up sounds of danger and help it keep cool by giving off heat.
Agassiz’s desert tortoise (Gopherus agassizii) Total length: up to 15 in (38 cm)
Common collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris) Length: up to 14 in (36 cm)
Black-tailed jackrabbit (Lepus californicus) Body length: up to 24 in (61
Gila woodpecker (Melanerpes uropygialis) Length: up to 9.5 in (24 cm)
Gila monster (Heloderma suspectum) Length: up to 1 ft 10 in (55 cm)
Desert tarantula (Aphonopelma chalcodes) Length: up to 2.7 in (6.8 cm)
The saguaro cactus can be up to 50 ft (15 m) high and weigh more than an African elephant.
Creosote and sagebrush bushes are two of the most common desert plants.
The semitropical marshland of Everglades National Park covers 2,120 sq miles (5,490 sq km) of southern Florida in the United States. The Everglades is an enormous swamp with deeper channels of water running through it. Grass covers most of the swamp, broken only by islands of trees. There are two main seasons in the Everglades: the wet summer and the dry winter. The park provides a rich feeding and breeding ground for large numbers of insects, fish, reptiles, and birds. However, the Everglades is threatened by population increase, agriculture, pollution, and canal construction, which have all disrupted the natural flow of water. Only two percent of the habitat is intact.
Dangerous journey
The female loggerhead turtle comes ashore at night to lay her eggs on the beach. She digs a hole, lays more than a hundred eggs, covers them with sand, and returns to the sea. After about eight weeks, the baby turtles hatch out and make their way as quickly as they can to the safety of the water. Many of them are eaten by sea birds before they can get there.
Snail diet
The snail kite (also called an Everglade kite) is named for its diet: it mostly eats only one type of water snail, called Pomacea. The kite uses its slender, hooked beak to pry out the snail’s soft body without breaking its shell. Everglade kites nest in huge colonies and search for food in groups.
Poisonous butterfly
The caterpillar of the zebra butterfly feeds on passion flower vines, which are poisonous to most animals. Adult butterflies build up poison by feeding on pollens.
Hole maker
American alligators clean out large holes in the swamp floor. During the dry season, when the Everglades dry up, these holes stay filled with water. The alligators then feed on the turtles, garfish, and other animals that take refuge there.
Water snake
The cottonmouth snake, a pit viper, has pits (holes) on its face that can sense heat. It hunts at night, killing frogs and fish with its venomous fangs. This is the only viper that is equally at home in the water as it is on land, and is also known as the water moccasin.
Super diver
The brown pelican feeds on fish. It catches its prey by diving into the sea and scooping up a mouthful of fish and water in the huge pouch under its beak. Often this water weighs twice as much as the bird itself. A brown pelican can scoop up a fish in less than two seconds.
American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) Length: up to 14 ft 4 in (4.4 m)
Loggerhead turtle (Caretta caretta) Length: up to 7 ft (2.1 m)
Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus) Length: up to 6 ft (1.8 m)
Brown pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis) Length: up to 4
Everglade kite (Rostrhamus sociabilis) Length: up to 19 in (48 cm) Wingspan: 3 ft 9 in (1.1 m)
Zebra butterfly (Heliconius charithonia) Wingspan: up to 4 in (10 cm)
Islands of trees, called hammocks, stick up above the water level.
Blood meal
The female mosquito bites a mammal and feeds on its blood before she lays her eggs in a pool. The larvae develop underwater and use the breathing tubes on the end of their abdomens to take in air from above the surface of the water.
FLORIDA
Attractive colors
The painted bunting is a winter visitor to the Everglades. The male has a blue head and bright red underparts to attract a mate, while the female’s green color provides camouflage while she sits on the nest. Painted buntings have strong beaks, which they use to crush seeds and remove the husks.
Spoon feeding
The roseate spoonbill is named for its spoonshaped bill, which it uses to find food in the muddy water of the Everglades. It sweeps its partly open bill from side to side and snaps it shut when it touches its prey—small fish, shrimp, and insects.
Sticky toes
The green tree frog has sticky suction pads on its toes that help it grip smooth or slippery surfaces. Most adult tree frogs can change their color or pattern in response to temperature, light, or moisture. The tree frog is so small and light that even a leaf can take its weight.
Power jaws
The gar looks like a drifting log as it lurks among the reeds, but it has powerful jaws and fearsome teeth, and can snatch fish and other animals from the water with a sideways slash of its snout. It has gills for breathing underwater, but it can also breathe air if the water dries up. The gar’s ancestors lived 150 million years ago, and it has hardly changed since.
Speedy swimmer
The manatee is a rare mammal, living entirely in the water. A strong swimmer, it uses its flat tail to push through the water at speeds of 15 mph (25 kph) or more. The manatee can stay underwater for up to 15 minutes, but has to come to the surface to breathe air. It can weigh nearly 2,200 lbs (1,000 kg) and needs to eat 65 lbs (30 kg) of plant food a day to live.
West Indian manatee (Trichechus manatus) Length: up to 12 ft 9 in (3.9 m)
Long-nosed gar (Lepisosteus osseus) Length: up to 6 ft 8 in (2 m)
Mosquito (Culex species) Length: up to 0.4 in (1 cm)
Roseate spoonbill (Platalea ajaja) Length: up to 2 ft 10 in (86.5 cm)
The American Indians called the Everglades area “Pahayokee,” which means “river of grass.”
Mangroves are one of the most common Everglade trees. They can grow to a height of 80 ft (24 m).
Painted bunting
Passerina ciris)
Green tree frog (Hyla cinerea) Length: up to 2.2 in (5.7 cm)
Central America
The varied wildlife of Central America and the islands of the Caribbean Sea reflects the different habitats in the region—from coastal mangrove swamps to grassland and rainforest inland. The climate is always warm, with storms and hurricanes in the summer and fall. In prehistoric times, animals passed between North and South America along the Central American land bridge. The sea prevented many animals from reaching the Caribbean islands, and several unusual animals, such as the solenodon, have evolved there, where they have few enemies or competitors.
Blood sucker
The vampire bat preys on large mammals, such as cattle. It uses its razor-sharp front teeth to puncture its victim’s skin, then laps up the blood that oozes from the wound. It does not take enough blood to kill its victims, but it can pass on diseases in its saliva.
Smallest bird
The tiny bee hummingbird is the smallest bird in the world. It beats its wings faster than the human eye can see, at 30–80 beats per second, making a sound like a bee. It feeds on nectar from flowers, but uses up energy quickly because it flies so fast.
Deadly snake
The fer-de-lance is one of the most aggressive snakes on Earth—it is quick to strike and injects its prey with a paralyzing venom. The patterns on the snake’s skin blend into the leaf litter on the forest floor. This makes the snake almost impossible to spot.
Aerial acrobat
The kinkajou spends most of its life in the tops of trees, often hanging by its tail from branches. The kinkajou is also known as the honey bear because it often laps up the honey from bees’ nests.
Golden wonder
This endangered frog is found in the Panama rainforests. It lives by streams and waterfalls. The gushing water is loud, so instead of croaking, they fend off other frogs by waving their feet at them. They lay their eggs on rocks in the fast-flowing current—each tadpole has a sucker on its belly to keep it from being washed away.
Trap jaws
The trap-jaw ant has huge jaws, which it uses for hunting or for carrying things. The ant in the picture is carrying a pupa, inside which an adult ant is developing.
Kinkajou (Potos flavus)
Body length: up to 30 in (76 cm)
Tail: up to 22 in (57 cm)
Vampire bat
Desmodus rotundus)
Fer-de-lance snake
Bee hummingbird
Panamanian golden frog (Atelopus zeteki) Length: up to 2.5 in (6.3 cm)
Trap-jaw ant
(Acanthognathus teledectus) Length: up to 0.06 in (1.5
GULF OF HONDURAS
KINKAJOU
BEE
HUMMINGBIRD
CUBAN SOLENODON
JAMAICA
Thick vegetation covers the highland areas on the island of Jamaica.
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LXVI
A person who is full of secrets is a knave or a fool, or both.
LXVII
The error of Mandeville, as well as of those opposed to him, is in concluding that man is a simple and not a compound being. The schoolmen and divines endeavour to prove that the gross and material part of his nature is a foreign admixture, distinct from and unworthy of the man himself. The misanthropes and sceptics, on the other hand, maintain the falsity of all human virtues, and that all that is not sensual and selfish is a mere theatrical deception. But in order that man should be a wholly and incorrigibly selfish being, he should be shut up like an oyster in its shell, without any possible conception of what passes beyond the wall of his senses; and the feelers of his mind should not extend their ramifications under any circumstance or in any manner, to the thoughts and sentiments of others. Shakspeare has expressed the matter better than the pedants on either side, who wish unreasonably to exalt or degrade human nature.—‘The web of our lives is as of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not, and our vices would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.’
LXVIII
People cry out against the preposterous absurdity of such representations as the German inventions of the Devil’s Elixir and the Bottle Imp. Is it then a fiction that we see? Or is it not rather a palpable reality that takes place every day and hour? Who is there that is not haunted by some heated phantom of his brain, some wizard spell, that clings to him in spite of his will, and hurries him on to absurdity or ruin? There is no machinery or phantasmagoria of a melo-drame, more extravagant than the workings of the passions. Mr. Farley may do his worst with scaly forms, with flames, and dragon’s wings: but after all, the true demon is within us. How many, whose senses are shocked at the outward spectacle, and who turn away startled or disgusted might say, pointing to their bosoms, ‘The moral is here!’
LXIX
Mr. L—— asked Sir Thomas —— who had been intimate with the Prince, if it was true that he was so fine a gentleman as he was generally represented? Sir Thomas —— made answer, that it was certainly true that the Prince was a very fine gentleman indeed: ‘but,’ added he, ‘if I am to speak my mind, the finest gentleman I ever saw, was Sadi Baba, the ambassador to Constantinople, from the Usbek Tartars.’
LXX
‘Man is in no haste to be venerable.’ At present, it seems as if there were no occasion to become so. People die as usual; but it is not the fashion to grow old. Formerly, men subsided and settled down into a respectable old age at forty, as they did into a bob-wig, and a brown coat and waistcoat of a certain cut. The father of a family no longer pretended to pass for a gay young fellow, after he had children grown up; and women dwindled, by regular and willing gradations, into mothers and grandmothers, transferring their charms and pretensions to a blooming posterity; but these things are never thought of now-a-days. A matron of sixty flaunts it in ‘La Belle Assemblée’s dresses for May:’ and certainly M. Stultz never inquires into the grand climacteric of his customers. Dress levels all ages as well as all ranks.
A CHAPTER ON EDITORS
The Monthly Magazine.]
‘Our withers are unwrung. ’
[November, 1830.
Editors are (to use an approved Scotch phrase—for what that is Scotch is not approved?) a ‘sort of tittle-tattle‘—difficult to deal with, dangerous to discuss. ‘A capital subject for an article, great scope, complete novelty, and ground never touched upon!’ Very true; for what Editor would insert an article against himself? Certainly none that did not feel himself free from and superior to the common foibles of his tribe. What might, therefore, be taken for a satire in manuscript, turns to a compliment in print—the exception in this, as in other cases, proves the rule—an inference we have endeavoured to express in our motto.
With one exception, then, Editors in general partake of the usual infirmity of human nature, and of persons placed in high and honorary situations. Like other individuals raised to authority, they are chosen to fill a certain post for qualities useful or ornamental to the reading public; but they soon fancy that the situation has been invented for their own honour and profit, and sink the use in the abuse. Kings are not the only servants of the public who imagine that they are the state. Editors are but men, and easily ‘lay the flattering unction to their souls’ that they are the Magazine, the Newspaper, or the Review they conduct. They have got a little power in their hands, and they wish to employ that power (as all power is employed) to increase the sense of self-importance; they borrow a certain dignity from their situation as arbiters and judges of taste and elegance, and they are determined to keep it to the detriment of their employers
and of every one else. They are dreadfully afraid there should be any thing behind the Editor’s chair, greater than the Editor’s chair. That is a scandal to be prevented at all risks. The publication they are entrusted with for the amusement and edification of the town, they convert, in theory and practice, into a stalking-horse of their own vanity, whims, and prejudices. They cannot write a whole work themselves, but they take care that the whole is such as they might have written: it is to have the Editor’s mark, like the broad R, on every page, or the N. N. at the Tuileries; it is to bear the same image and superscription—every line is to be upon oath: nothing is to be differently conceived or better expressed than the Editor could have done it. The whole begins in vanity, and ends too often in dulness and insipidity.
It is utterly impossible to persuade an Editor that he is nobody. As Mr. Horne Tooke said, on his trial for a libel before Lord Kenyon, ‘There are two parties in this cause—myself and the jury; the judge and the crier of the court attend in their respective places:’ so in every periodical miscellany, there are two essential parties—the writers and the public; the Editor and the printer’s-devil are merely the mechanical instruments to bring them together. There is a secret consciousness of this on the part of the Conductor of the Literary Diligence, that his place is one for shew and form rather than use; and as he cannot maintain his pretended superiority by what he does himself, he thinks to arrive at the same end by hindering others from doing their best. The ‘dog-in-the-manger’ principle comes into full play. If an article has nothing to recommend it, is one of no mark or likelihood, it goes in; there is no offence in it. If it is likely to strike, to draw attention, to make a noise, then every syllable is scanned, every objection is weighed: if grave, it is too grave; if witty, it is too witty. One way or other, it might be better; and while this nice point is pending, it gives place, as a matter of course, to something that there is no question about.
The responsibility, the delicacy, the nervous apprehension of the Editor, naturally increase with the probable effect and popularity of the contributions on which he has to pass judgment; and the nearer an effusion approaches to perfection, the more fatal is a single flaw, or its falling short of that superhuman standard by a hair’s-breadth difference, to its final reception. If people are likely to ask, ‘Who
wrote a certain paper in the last number of ——?’ the Editor is bound, as a point of honour, to baulk that impertinent curiosity on the part of the public. He would have it understood that all the articles are equally good, and may be equally his own. If he inserts a paper of more than the allowed average merit, his next care is to spoil by revising it. The sting, with the honey, is sure to be left out. If there is any thing that pleased you in the writing, you look in vain for it in the proof. What might electrify the reader, startles the Editor. With a paternal regard for the interests of the public, he takes care that their tastes should not be pampered, and their expectations raised too high, by a succession of fine passages, of which it is impossible to continue a supply. He interposes between the town and their vicious appetite for the piquant and high-seasoned, as we forbid children to indulge in sweetmeats. The trite and superficial are always to be had to order, and present a beautiful uniformity of appearance. There is no unexpected relief, no unwelcome inequality of style, to disorder the nerves or perplex the understanding: the reader may read, and smile, and sleep, without meeting a single idea to break his repose!
Some Editors, moreover, have a way of altering the first paragraph: they have then exercised their privileges, and let you alone for the rest of the chapter. This is like paying ‘a pepper-corn rent,’ or making one’s bow on entering a room: it is being let off cheap. Others add a pointless conclusion of their own: it is like signing their names to the article. Some have a passion for sticking in the word however at every opportunity, in order to impede the march of the style; and others are contented and take great pains (with Lindley Murray’s Grammar lying open before them) to alter ‘if it is’ into ‘if it be.’ An Editor abhors an ellipsis. If you fling your thoughts into continued passages, they set to work to cut them up into short paragraphs: if you make frequent breaks, they turn the tables on you that way, and throw the whole composition into masses. Any thing to preserve the form and appearance of power, to make the work their own by mental stratagem, to stamp it by some fiction of criticism with their personal identity, to enable them to run away with the credit, and look upon themselves as the master-spirits of the work and of the age! If there is any point they do not understand, they are sure to meddle with it, and mar the sense; for it piques their self-love, and they think they are bound ex-officio to know better than the writer. Thus they substitute (at a venture, and
merely for the sake of altering) one epithet for another, when perhaps the same word has occurred just before, and produces a cruel tautology, never considering the trouble you have taken to compare the context and vary the phraseology.
Editors have no misplaced confidence in the powers of their contributors: they think by the supposition they must be in the right from a single supercilious glance,—and you in the wrong, after poring over a subject for a month. There are Editors who, if you insert the name of a popular actor or artist, strike it out, and, in virtue of their authority, insert a favourite of their own,—as a dexterous attorney substitutes the name of a friend in a will. Some Editors will let you praise nobody; others will let you blame nobody. The first excites their jealousy of contemporary merit; the last excites their fears, and they do not like to make enemies. Some insist upon giving no opinion at all, and observe an unarmed neutrality as to all parties and persons;—it is no wonder the world think very little of them in return. Some Editors stand upon their characters for this; others for that. Some pique themselves upon being genteel and welldressed; others on being moral and immaculate, and do not perceive that the public never trouble their heads about the matter. We only know one Editor who openly discards all regard to character and decency, and who thrives by the dissolution of partnership, if indeed the articles were ever drawn up. We shall not mention names, as we would not advertise a work that ‘ought to lie on no gentleman’s table.’ Some Editors drink tea with a set of blue stockings and literary ladies: not a whisper, not a breath that might blow away those fine cobwebs of the brain—
‘More subtle web Arachne cannot spin; Nor those fine threads which oft we woven see Of scorched dew, do not in the air more lightly flee!’
Others dine with Lords and Academicians—for God’s sake, take care what you say! Would you strip the Editor’s mantel-piece of the cards of invitation that adorn it to select parties for the next six months? An Editor takes a turn in St. James’s-street, and is congratulated by the successive literary or political groups on all he does not write; and when the mistake is found out, the true Simon Pure is dismissed. We have heard that it was well said by the proprietor of a leading
journal, that he would take good care never to write a line in his own paper, as he had conflicting interests enough to manage, without adding literary jealousies to the number. On the other hand, a very good-natured and warm-hearted individual declared, ‘he would never have another man of talents for an Editor’ (the Editor, in this case, is to the proprietor as the author to the Editor), ‘for he was tired of having their good things thrust in his teeth.’ Some Editors are scrubs, mere drudges, newspaper-puffs: others are bullies or quacks: others are nothing at all—they have the name, and receive a salary for it! A literary sinecure is at once lucrative and highly respectable. At Lord’s-Ground there are some old hands that are famous for ‘blocking out and staying in:’ it would seem that some of our literary veterans had taken a lesson from their youthful exercises at Harrow or Eton.
All this is bad enough; but the worst is, that Editors, besides their own failings, have friends who aggravate and take advantage of them. These self-styled friends are the night-shade and hemlock clinging to the work, preventing its growth and circulation, and dropping a slumberous poison from its jaundiced leaves. They form a cordon, an opake mass round the Editor, and persuade him that they are the support, the prop, and pillar of his reputation. They get between him and the public, and shut out the light, and set aside common sense. They pretend anxiety for the interest of some established organ of opinion, while all they want is to make it the organ of their dogmas, prejudices, or party. They want to be the Magazine or the Review—to wield that power covertly, to warp that influence to their own purposes. If they cannot do this, they care not if it sinks or swims. They prejudge every question—fly-blow every writer who is not of their own set. A friend of theirs has three articles in the last number of ——; they strain every nerve and make pressing instances to throw a slur on a popular contribution by another hand, in order that he may write a fourth in the next number. The short articles which are read by the vulgar, are cut down to make room for the long ones, which are read by nobody but the writers and their friends. If an opinion is expressed contrary to the shibboleth of the party, it is represented as an outrage on decency and public opinion, when in truth the public are delighted with the candour and boldness displayed. They would convert the most valuable and spirited journal into a dull pamphleteer, stuffed with their own lucubrations on
certain heavy topics. The self-importance of these people is in proportion to their insignificance; and what they cannot do by an appeal to argument or sound policy, they effect by importunity and insinuation. They keep the Editor in continual alarm as to what will be said of him by the public, when in fact the public will think (in nine cases out of ten) just what he tells them.
These people create much of the mischief. An Editor should have no friends—his only prompter should be the number of copies of the work that sell. It is superfluous to strike off a large impression of a work for those few squeamish persons who prefer lead to tinsel. Principle and good manners are barriers that are, in our estimate, inviolable: the rest is open to popular suffrage, and is not to be prejudged by a coterie with closed doors. Another difficulty lies here. An Editor should, in one sense, be a respectable man—a distinguished character; otherwise, he cannot lend his name and sanction to the work. The conductor of a periodical publication which is to circulate widely and give the tone to taste and opinion, ought to be of high standing, should have connections with society, should belong to some literary institution, should be courted by the great, be run after by the obscure. But ‘here’s the rub’—that one so graced and gifted can neither have his time nor his thoughts to himself. Our obligations are mutual; and those who owe much to others, become the slaves of their good opinion and good word. He who dines out loses his free agency. He may improve in politeness; he falls off in the pith and pungency of his style. A poem is dedicated to the son of the Muses:—can the critic do otherwise than praise it? A tragedy is brought out by a noble friend and patron:—the severe rules of the drama must yield in some measure to the amenities of private life. On the contrary, Mr. —— is a garretteer—a person that nobody knows; his work has nothing but the contents to recommend it; it sinks into obscurity, or addresses itself to the canaille. An Editor, then, should be an abstraction—a being in the clouds—a mind without a body—reason without passion.——But where find such a one?
THE LETTER-BELL
The Monthly Magazine.]
[March, 1831.
Complaints are frequently made of the vanity and shortness of human life, when, if we examine its smallest details, they present a world by themselves. The most trifling objects, retraced with the eye of memory, assume the vividness, the delicacy, and importance of insects seen through a magnifying glass. There is no end of the brilliancy or the variety. The habitual feeling of the love of life may be compared to ‘one entire and perfect chrysolite,’ which, if analysed, breaks into a thousand shining fragments. Ask the sum-total of the value of human life, and we are puzzled with the length of the account, and the multiplicity of items in it: take any one of them apart, and it is wonderful what matter for reflection will be found in it! As I write this, the Letter-Bell passes: it has a lively, pleasant sound with it, and not only fills the street with its importunate clamour, but rings clear through the length of many half-forgotten years. It strikes upon the ear, it vibrates to the brain, it wakes me from the dream of time, it flings me back upon my first entrance into life, the period of my first coming up to town, when all around was strange, uncertain, adverse—a hubbub of confused noises, a chaos of shifting objects—and when this sound alone, startling me with the recollection of a letter I had to send to the friends I had lately left, brought me as it were to myself, made me feel that I had links still connecting me with the universe, and gave me hope and patience to persevere. At that loud-tinkling, interrupted sound (now and then), the long line of blue hills near the place where I was brought up waves in the horizon, a golden sunset hovers over them, the dwarfoaks rustle their red leaves in the eveningbreeze, and the road from
—— to ——, by which I first set out on my journey through life, stares me in the face as plain, but from time and change not less visionary and mysterious, than the pictures in the Pilgrim’s Progress. I should notice, that at this time the light of the French Revolution circled my head like a glory, though dabbled with drops of crimson gore: I walked comfortable and cheerful by its side—
‘And by the vision splendid Was on my way attended.’
It rose then in the east: it has again risen in the west. Two suns in one day, two triumphs of liberty in one age, is a miracle which I hope the Laureate will hail in appropriate verse. Or may not Mr. Wordsworth give a different turn to the fine passage, beginning—
‘What, though the radiance which was once so bright, Be now for ever vanished from my sight; Though nothing can bring back the hour Of glory in the grass, of splendour in the flower?’
For is it not brought back, ‘like morn risen on mid-night‘; and may he not yet greet the yellow light shining on the evening bank with eyes of youth, of genius, and freedom, as of yore? No, never! But what would not these persons give for the unbroken integrity of their early opinions—for one unshackled, uncontaminated strain—one Io pæan to Liberty—one burst of indignation against tyrants and sycophants, who subject other countries to slavery by force, and prepare their own for it by servile sophistry, as we see the huge serpent lick over its trembling, helpless victim with its slime and poison, before it devours it! On every stanza so penned should be written the word R ! Every taunt, every reproach, every note of exultation at restored light and freedom, would recal to them how their hearts failed them in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. And what shall we say to him—the sleep-walker, the dreamer, the sophist, the word-hunter, the craver after sympathy, but still vulnerable to truth, accessible to opinion, because not sordid or mechanical? The Bourbons being no longer tied about his neck, he may perhaps recover his original liberty of speculating; so that we may apply to him the lines about his own Ancient Mariner—
‘And from his neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea. ’
This is the reason I can write an article on the Letter-Bell, and other such subjects; I have never given the lie to my own soul. If I have felt any impression once, I feel it more strongly a second time; and I have no wish to revile or discard my best thoughts. There is at least a thorough keeping in what I write—not a line that betrays a principle or disguises a feeling. If my wealth is small, it all goes to enrich the same heap; and trifles in this way accumulate to a tolerable sum. Or if the Letter-Bell does not lead me a dance into the country, it fixes me in the thick of my town recollections, I know not how long ago. It was a kind of alarm to break off from my work when there happened to be company to dinner or when I was going to the play. That was going to the play, indeed, when I went twice a year, and had not been more than half a dozen times in my life. Even the idea that any one else in the house was going, was a sort of reflected enjoyment, and conjured up a lively anticipation of the scene. I remember a Miss D ——, a maiden lady from Wales (who in her youth was to have been married to an earl), tantalised me greatly in this way, by talking all day of going to see Mrs. Siddons’ ‘airs and graces’ at night in some favourite part; and when the Letter-Bell announced that the time was approaching, and its last receding sound lingered on the ear, or was lost in silence, how anxious and uneasy I became, lest she and her companion should not be in time to get good places—lest the curtain should draw up before they arrived—and lest I should lose one line or look in the intelligent report which I should hear the next morning! The punctuating of time at that early period—every thing that gives it an articulate voice—seems of the utmost consequence; for we do not know what scenes in the ideal world may run out of them: a world of interest may hang upon every instant, and we can hardly sustain the weight of future years which are contained in embryo in the most minute and inconsiderable passing events. How often have I put off writing a letter till it was too late! How often had to run after the postman with it—now missing, now recovering the sound of his bell—breathless, angry with myself—then hearing the welcome sound come full round a corner—and seeing the scarlet costume which set all my fears and self-reproaches at rest! I do not recollect having ever repented giving a letter to the postman, or
wishing to retrieve it after he had once deposited it in his bag. What I have once set my hand to, I take the consequences of, and have been always pretty much of the same humour in this respect. I am not like the person who, having sent off a letter to his mistress, who resided a hundred and twenty miles in the country, and disapproving, on second thoughts, of some expressions contained in it, took a postchaise and four to follow and intercept it the next morning. At other times, I have sat and watched the decaying embers in a little back painting-room (just as the wintry day declined), and brooded over the half-finished copy of a Rembrandt, or a landscape by Vangoyen, placing it where it might catch a dim gleam of light from the fire; while the Letter-Bell was the only sound that drew my thoughts to the world without, and reminded me that I had a task to perform in it. As to that landscape, methinks I see it now—
‘The slow canal, the yellow-blossomed vale, The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail.’
There was a windmill, too, with a poor low clay-built cottage beside it:—how delighted I was when I had made the tremulous, undulating reflection in the water, and saw the dull canvas become a lucid mirror of the commonest features of nature! Certainly, painting gives one a strong interest in nature and humanity (it is not the dandy-school of morals or sentiment)—
‘While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.’
Perhaps there is no part of a painter’s life (if we must tell ‘the secrets of the prison-house’) in which he has more enjoyment of himself and his art, than that in which after his work is over, and with furtive, sidelong glances at what he has done, he is employed in washing his brushes and cleaning his pallet for the day. Afterwards, when he gets a servant in livery to do this for him, he may have other and more ostensible sources of satisfaction—greater splendour, wealth, or fame; but he will not be so wholly in his art, nor will his art have such a hold on him as when he was too poor to transfer its meanest drudgery to others—too humble to despise aught that had to do with the object of his glory and his pride, with that on which all his
projects of ambition or pleasure were founded. ‘Entire affection scorneth nicer hands.’ When the professor is above this mechanical part of his business, it may have become a stalking-horse to other worldly schemes, but is no longer his hobby-horse and the delight of his inmost thoughts—
‘His shame in crowds, his solitary pride!’ I used sometimes to hurry through this part of my occupation, while the Letter-Bell (which was my dinner-bell) summoned me to the fraternal board, where youth and hope
‘Made good digestion wait on appetite And health on both ’
or oftener I put it off till after dinner, that I might loiter longer and with more luxurious indolence over it, and connect it with the thoughts of my next day’s labours.
The dustman’s bell, with its heavy, monotonous noise, and the brisk, lively tinkle of the muffin-bell, have something in them, but not much. They will bear dilating upon with the utmost licence of inventive prose. All things are not alike conductors to the imagination. A learned Scotch professor found fault with an ingenious friend and arch-critic for cultivating a rookery on his grounds: the professor declared ‘he would as soon think of encouraging a froggery.’ This was barbarous as it was senseless. Strange, that a country that has produced the Scotch novels and Gertrude of Wyoming should want sentiment!
The postman’s double knock at the door the next morning is ‘more germain to the matter.’ How that knock often goes to the heart! We distinguish to a nicety the arrival of the Two-penny or the General Post. The summons of the latter is louder and heavier, as bringing news from a greater distance, and as, the longer it has been delayed, fraught with a deeper interest. We catch the sound of what is to be paid—eight-pence, nine-pence, a shilling—and our hopes generally rise with the postage. How we are provoked at the delay in getting change—at the servant who does not hear the door! Then if the postman passes, and we do not hear the expected knock, what a pang is there! It is like the silence of death—of hope! We think he does it on purpose, and enjoys all the misery of our suspense. I have
sometimes walked out to see the Mail-Coach pass, by which I had sent a letter, or to meet it when I expected one. I never see a MailCoach, for this reason, but I look at it as the bearer of glad tidings— the messenger of fate. I have reason to say so. The finest sight in the metropolis is that of the Mail-Coaches setting off from Piccadilly. The horses paw the ground, and are impatient to be gone, as if conscious of the precious burden they convey. There is a peculiar secresy and despatch, significant and full of meaning, in all the proceedings concerning them. Even the outside passengers have an erect and supercilious air, as if proof against the accidents of the journey. In fact, it seems indifferent whether they are to encounter the summer’s heat or winter’s cold, since they are borne on through the air in a winged chariot. The Mail-Carts drive up; the transfer of packages is made; and, at a signal given, they start off, bearing the irrevocable scrolls that give wings to thought, and that bind or sever hearts for ever. How we hate the Putney and Brentford stages that draw up in a line after they are gone! Some persons think the sublimest object in nature is a ship launched on the bosom of the ocean: but give me, for my private satisfaction, the Mail-Coaches that pour down Piccadilly of an evening, tear up the pavement, and devour the way before them to the Land’s-End!
In Cowper’s time, Mail-Coaches were hardly set up; but he has beautifully described the coming in of the Post-Boy:—
‘Hark! ’tis the twanging horn o ’ er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length
Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright:
He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spattered boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks;
News from all nations lumbering at his back.
True to his charge, the close-packed load behind.
Yet careless what he brings, his one concern Is to conduct it to the destined inn;
And having dropped the expected bag, pass on.
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch!
Cold and yet cheerful; messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some;
To him indifferent whether grief or joy.
Houses in ashes and the fall of stocks, Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet
With tears that trickled down the writer’s cheeks Fast as the periods from his fluent quill, Or charged with amorous sighs of absent swains Or nymphs responsive, equally affect His horse and him, unconscious of them all.’
And yet, notwithstanding this, and so many other passages that seem like the very marrow of our being, Lord Byron denies that Cowper was a poet!—The Mail-Coach is an improvement on the Post-Boy; but I fear it will hardly bear so poetical a description. The picturesque and dramatic do not keep pace with the useful and mechanical. The telegraphs that lately communicated the intelligence of the new revolution to all France within a few hours, are a wonderful contrivance; but they are less striking and appalling than the beacon-fires (mentioned by Æschylus), which, lighted from hill-top to hill-top, announced the taking of Troy, and the return of Agamemnon.
ON THE SPIRIT OF MONARCHY
The Liberal.]
‘Strip it of its externals, and what is it but a jest?’
Charade on the word M .
[1822.
‘As for politics, I think poets are Tories by nature, supposing them to be by nature poets. The love of an individual person or family, that has worn a crown for many successions, is an inclination greatly adapted to the fanciful tribe. On the other hand, mathematicians, abstract reasoners, of no manner of attachment to persons, at least to the visible part of them, but prodigiously devoted to the ideas of virtue, liberty, and so forth, are generally Whigs. It happens agreeably enough to this maxim, that the Whigs are friends to that wise, plodding, unpoetical people, the Dutch.’ Skenstone’s Letters, 1746.
The Spirit of Monarchy then is nothing but the craving in the human mind after the Sensible and the One. It is not so much a matter of state-necessity or policy, as a natural infirmity, a disease, a false appetite in the popular feeling, which must be gratified. Man is an individual animal with narrow faculties, but infinite desires, which he is anxious to concentrate in some one object within the grasp of his imagination, and where, if he cannot be all that he wishes himself, he may at least contemplate his own pride, vanity, and passions, displayed in their most extravagant dimensions in a being no bigger and no better than himself. Each individual would (were it in his power) be a king, a God: but as he cannot, the next best thing is to see this reflex image of his self-love, the darling passion of his breast, realized, embodied out of himself in the first object he can lay his hands on for the purpose. The slave admires the tyrant, because the last is, what the first would be. He surveys himself all over in the glass of royalty. The swelling, bloated self-
importance of the one is the very counterpart and ultimate goal of the abject servility of the other. But both hate mankind for the same reason, because a respect for humanity is a diversion to their inordinate self-love, and the idea of the general good is a check to the gross intemperance of passion. The worthlessness of the object does not diminish but irritate the propensity to admire. It serves to pamper our imagination equally, and does not provoke our envy. All we want is to aggrandize our own vain-glory at second-hand; and the less of real superiority or excellence there is in the person we fix upon as our proxy in this dramatic exhibition, the more easily can we change places with him, and fancy ourselves as good as he. Nay, the descent favours the rise; and we heap our tribute of applause the higher, in proportion as it is a free gift. An idol is not the worse for being of coarse materials: a king should be a common-place man. Otherwise, he is superior in his own nature, and not dependent on our bounty or caprice. Man is a poetical animal, and delights in fiction. We like to have scope for the exercise of our mere will. We make kings of men, and Gods of stocks and stones: we are not jealous of the creatures of our own hands. We only want a peg or loop to hang our idle fancies on, a puppet to dress up, a lay-figure to paint from. It is ‘T Ferdinand, and not K Ferdinand,’ as it was wisely and wittily observed. We ask only for the stage effect; we do not go behind the scenes, or it would go hard with many of our prejudices! We see the symbols of majesty, we enjoy the pomp, we crouch before the power, we walk in the procession, and make part of the pageant, and we say in our secret hearts, there is nothing but accident that prevents us from being at the head of it. There is something in the mock-sublimity of thrones, wonderfully congenial to the human mind. Every man feels that he could sit there; every man feels that he could look big there; every man feels that he could bow there; every man feels that he could play the monarch there. The transition is so easy, and so delightful! The imagination keeps pace with royal state,
‘And by the vision splendid Is on its way attended.’
The Madman in Hogarth who fancies himself a king, is not a solitary instance of this species of hallucination. Almost every true and loyal subject holds such a barren sceptre in his hand; and the meanest of
