shaped mass of corrosive sublimate seems to me
like the chemical "correspondence" of lions and
tigers, and all other noxious animals of the
jungle; while this huge crystallisation of calomel,
the offspring of corrosive sublimate, makes one
shudder at the remembrance of all the lives its
snaky deadliness has lost to the world. A case
of terrible medicines is at my elbow. Jalap,
and camomile, and henbane, and rhubarb, and
bark, and colocynth, and aconite, gentian, and
colchicum — brown and nasty — and belladonna of
a dull olive, and extract of cleavers, and sickly-
coloured hemlock got from the flowering plant,
all sticky-looking treacly masses, not fluid, but
bearing in their very look the ugly nature of
their action. And then there is a case of
unguents; one a sickly green, "unguentum conii,"
conium being the "volatile base" (!) of hemlock,
with very many others, unintelligible to me.
Some of the bottles are pretty; for instance, the
bluish phosphate of iron, and the purple-blue
litmus, and the golden-looking iodide of lead,
and the steel-bright crystals of iodin. precip.,
and the carnation-coloured hydrarg. biniodid;
but I have not the faintest conception of the
meaning of these last words, or what the bottles
really contain.

But the artists' colour-cases are still the most
beautiful! Has any one ever seen anything
like Winsor and Newton's cups of chromes,
and carnations, and scarlet lakes, and royal
blues, and paler azures, and insolent orange, and
purples, and greens, and snowy knubbles of
flake white, and primrose daintiness, and
crimsons loud and fierce as a war-cry, and pinks
tender and loving as a young girl? The gems
of colour lie in that case of the Rathbone-place
magicians; and if Linnell puts our eyes out
with his Surrey sunsets, it is here that we find
the cause.

And now I have done with all the scientific
chemicals, for my chemical friend is disgusted
with my ignorance; and I go wandering alone
about the wax-candles, coloured, painted, and
moulded, and fit only for the altars of monster
cathedrals; and up to the cases of wax-flowers,
where dreamy thoughts of bees and a summer's
day among the lanes, and hedge-roses, and honey-
suckles, and the sheep-dog barking on the fells
in the distance, hang like an atmosphere about
them; and I look at the dyed grass flowers; and
at the fishing flies; and at Pears' transparent
soap; and at that ugly looking block of primrose
soap, more like common brown than primrose;
and at the statuettes done in soap — our Queen
and the rest of them in mottled or curd, with red
and blue streaks across their faces; and at the
pink and yellow crystallised spermaceti, very
flaky, soft, and fairy-like. And near to them I
learn something of the purification of sperm oil,
and how it passes from the "crude or body oil"
through the conditions of "head matter" and
"bagged sperm" to finally culminate in that
clear golden fluid, bright and beautiful and fit
for home use. Then I taste Thorley's aromatic
compound, which he lets fall into a little trough,
like the trough of a bird-cage, and I do not
think it delicious, though cows and horses may;
and I smell the hops, which is a fresh and wholesome
perfume; and I admire the new method of
breeding wheat, and the lift which Darwin's theory
of selection seems to have got thereby; and I look
longingly at the biscuits, and the sugar-plums,
and the crystallised fruits, and the cut bride-
cake, with its luscious top of snow, and midland
of creamy loam, lying on the rich and solid basis
of its primitive formation; and I have a tender
interest in the chocolate cases, and I feel a cannibal
with respect to those little men and women in
soft brown, and would like to try that old shoe,
or even that miniature bird-cage; and then they
give me a dozen different perfumes at the perfumery
stands, each one of which neutralises the
other, until the effect of the whole is decidedly
unpleasant; and I wonder how those bottles of
jelly would turn out if my cook had one for a
gala day; and whether the coloured gelatine
would be good to eat; and what the fruit
essences are made of—knowing that they are not
made of fruit, but of some monstrous compound,
with a name no one can spell, and an origin
no one can fathom; and I have larcenious designs
on those oddly-cut pickles, and speculate on
their flavour with imaginary cold roast beef; for
the truth is I am getting hungry and tired, and
my thoughts are wandering in a low-bred and
unscientific manner to food and rest. And then
faint gushes of sickly soup come in from the
refreshment-room, and nearly drive me to
despair, they smell so appetising and suggestive;
and I do not dine till seven, and it is now only
half-past four. So I turn my attention to the
vegetable ivory and the shell-work, and try to
feel an interest in both — wherein I signally fail;
and I look at the seeds and the Indian corn,
and the long eatable-looking starch, and the
gums and the glues and the varnishes, and
wonder how they ever came out of trees, when
they look so like stones or crystallised pebbles;
and then I sit down before some coloured wools,
and wonder how much arsenic is in that
marvellously bright green rug overhead, till I find
myself nodding, and a policeman saying severely,
"Move on; move on."

And so I wander out and homeward, giving
one parting glance at all these wonders; and in
my parting glance I come upon a case, with these
things contained: dimethy parabanic acid — some
soft, silvery crystals; orcine — dark flesh-red
powder; kinate of calcium — like broken loaf-
sugar; and sparkling crystals and spangles of
deep salmon-coloured orcine; and purru—like
rhubarb powder; and silicate of soda — pale blue
crystals below and brown at the top, which I
believe is an unhealthy condition for silicate of
soda to be in; and another silicate of soda—a
bright yellow fluid; and santonin—also bright
yellow; and hypophosphate of quinine and iron—
a pale yellowish brown; and pyrophosphate of
iron — green and not bewitching. And, I ask
you candidly—of all those tired-looking trailing
women, carrying babies, or thumping lagging
children — of all those half-washed men, with
their mouths open, and their brains not over-