And so, from the Pump at one extremity
to the Posts at the other, I have glanced
fitfully at Tattyboys  Rents. There are other
and queerer characters resident in its dingy
old houses; if you have any curiosity to
know further about them, I may gratify it in
good time.

NATURE'S CHANGES OF DRESS.

THE infinite variety of costume in which
Nature decks herself originate in ninety-two
thousand nine hundred and thirty chief
designs, and every one of these designs is
capable of countless variation. Her
numberless shades, her harmonious blendings of
colour, her rich treasury of shapes and
modes, are hardly glanced at by the languid
eye of Fashion. Fashion may, in common
with the rest of the world, have heard of the
"earth's apparel," but she scarcely knows
how the whole is arranged, or where each
of Nature's modes most prevails.

In every zone the earth wears a different
livery; in every country Nature bedecks
herself after a different fashion. But, everywhere
her garb is many-coloured and multi-form.
The turbaned Indian and the chimney-pot-
hatted Englishman, are not more widely
dissimilar in costume than Nature's dress
in India is unlike Nature's dress in England.
Her modes are more lasting than the
fashions of human kind, for Nature counts
life by centuries; we by seconds. They are less
capricious, although infinitely more numerous.
For, on a grand scale, Nature follows a
definite plan in the ordering and arrangement
of her apparel: not perhaps easily seen until
we glance with comprehensive eye from the
pole to the equator. We then perceive that
the method of Nature is directly opposed to
the method of man.

As the tribes of men approach the
broiling tropics, they divest themselves
of heavy and cumbrous clothing, and
resort to simple, thin attire. But it is
exactly where the tropical sun glows most
fiercely, that Nature clothes herself in a dense
tapestry of vegetation. In the north, where
we muffle our pinched forms in layers of
clothing, the earth hardily bares its breast
to winter. In the south, where to us even
the lightest jacket is oppressive, Nature
invests herself in a thick and gorgeous
mantle. Where moisture is a rare visitant,
and where, when it does visit the earth, it
comes either in torrents from the sky, or in
periodical overflows from rivers, the vegetation
is of massive spongy texture, with gaping
mouths and capacious organs, capable of
receiving and retaining large supplies of
water. A slow rate of evaporation from the
stores thus laid up, cools the surrounding
atmosphere; and descending in dew, refreshes
the parched soil; or, vivifying it, rescues it
from barrenness. Perhaps, tailors may take
a hint from Nature's arrangement of her
apparel in the tropics, and furnish us with
refrigerating coats for warm climates. Something
might perhaps be done in the way of
an evaporating coat—a delicious invention
which would have the effect of cooling the
wearer in proportion to the drought and heat
of the atmosphere without. Botanically
speaking, such an arrangement would, as we
have seen, be strictly natural. If, however,
any delighted Indian, who may chance to read
these pages, should feel inclined, in the fulness
of his trust in the wisdom of Nature, practically
to adopt her method, and, inducting
himself within a wet sheet, bask in the heat of
the sun, let him report his experience; but
first, let him consult his doctor.

The laws which regulate the distribution
of plants over the surface of the earth,
and the predominance of certain forms in
special localities,—the sumptuary laws of
nature, as we may well call them, since they
determine everywhere the nature of the
earth's apparel,—are peremptory and severe.
If we examine the separate elements of
the mass of vegetation which everywhere
adorns the earth, we are   not long before
we recognise, in every zone, forms with
which we do not meet elsewhere. In
every latitude we find plants to which that
special territory is assigned as their domain,
beyond which their passport will not carry
them, out of which they dare not travel,
unless the art and skill of man find them
artificial homes. The Gulf-stream may carry
the tropic seed to the coasts of Norway,—
the bird or insect may bear the vegetable
germ from Indian woods to plant it in a
northern soil; but offended Nature avenges
the transgression of her changeless laws.
The seed never germinates, but is blighted
by the asperities of a new and more
rigorous clime. Thus the grape does not
cheer the gloomy northmen; the vine being
forbidden to pass beyond the latitude of
Berlin. A line extended across Norway and
intersecting the east coast of Sweden, bounds
the northward travels of wheat. Beyond
the barrier which intersects Drontheim, cold
winds strike death on all wheaten crops. But,
farther north, even in climates which the
birch can no longer endure, hardy John
Barleycorn thrives, and gladdens the hearts
of men with honest cake and stout ale. Thus
his praises are sung in regions where the
more effeminate vheat is unknown.

The most potent viceroy whom Nature has
appointed to preside over the distribution of
plant-forms, and determine the fashion of the
earth's vegetable clothing in every zone, is
Heat. Heat rules the world of plants with
iron sway. Before his red-hot sceptre, all
vegetation bows. Accordingly, as he distributes
his bounteous rays the forms of vegetation
are developed. He marks out the earth in
regions, and in each he bids one general type
of forms to prevail; each has its own fashion.
Within these definite limits certain plants