of the year in which the existence of public parks and recreation grounds would contribute very largely to the promotion of temperance by providing pleasant spots in which to pass the hours unabsorbed by labour. But, I am sorry to say that our old city of Norwich has sadly degenerated from the time of Pepys, and enjoys an unenviable pre-eminence in the entire absence of these most desirable public spaces within its boundaries. With the exception of Chapel Field, we have not a single open public space. There is not a spot where the lads can play at cricket or football, or where their seniors can lounge away an evening hour; while as to a public park, the chance of this appears to grow dimmer and dimmer as the population of the city spreads and increases. I have ventured on more than one occasion to call attention to the need of such places for Norwich, and I have pointed to Mousehold Heath as a place which should, at all costs, be preserved for the city. But time passes. Several available spots for public recreation grounds have, one by one, been absorbed for building purposes, and Mousehold Heath – a space which appears to have been specially provided for the health and salubrity of future Norwich, and whose beauties and capabilities must surely be unappreciated by our citizens – is being gradually devoted to gravel pits, to brick kilns, and – to destruction. And let it not be supposed that the temperance of a population has no relation to its health and its general welfare. Beyond the attractions of a fresh and open spot, as a counter attraction to the public-house, the growth of a strong and healthy population tends powerfully in the direction of temperate habits, for the feeble and weakly will naturally seek indoor resorts, whilst the strong and the muscular will equally surely seek the open air. I wish I could think that Norwich was not suffering from this cause. But whoever observed the generally puny appearance, the poor physique, and the frequently strumous aspect of many of the children and youth received into our schoolrooms during the late flood, and many of whom came from the most crowded parts of the city, must have been struck with the evidence they afforded of the want that existed for them of light, of air, and of healthy exercise.
Lest I should be thought to be dwelling too long on a subject of little importance, or little bearing upon this night’s proceedings, let me read over to you a list of those places in England (and I am not sure that it is a complete list) which, during the past two or three years, have either had presented to them or have felt it their duty to provide public parks and recreation grounds for the use of the residents: – Reading, Birmingham, Dublin, Wigan, Leicester, Limerick, Lancaster, Heywood, Derby, Wolverhampton, Leeds, Longton, Torquay, Sheffield, Swansea, Newcastle, Exeter, and Falmouth.
The only other aid to temperance, to which I will now allude, is that of public galleries of art and natural history, and so forth. These are but small aids, but still they are appreciable ones, and I would gladly see such in Norwich. I do not know how far the disused gaol would be convertible to such public purposes, but it has struck me that the site is an admirable one, and the space ample for the collection in one spot, of an art gallery, museum, free library, popular lecture rooms, and for any other purposes which might properly come under the heading of popular instruction. The former city gaol has long been used as a public library. It would be a happy change if the late one could now be devoted, not to the punishment but the prevention of crime; not to the expiation of the results of indulgence in drink, but to the better training of men’s minds, so as to teach them, by instinct and by culture, to avoid the destructive paths of vice and of excess.
I think, sir, I have said enough to show how large is this temperance question, in which we are all, in which, indeed, the whole community, is so greatly interested. In proof of its recognised importance, we may point to the fact that doctors, physiologists, ministers of religion, peers of the realm, and even a Prime Minister, have raised their voices in opposition to the progress of the crying evil of drunkenness. Many earnest men have striven, by the influence of their continued advice, and by the example of their personal abstention from intoxicating liquors, to help on the good work; and many others have done so in various indirect ways, and especially by efforts to ameliorate the condition of the people, and provide for them alternative means of harmless and rational occupation or amusement. These efforts are so persistent and now so general; they are founded upon such complete knowledge, and such recognised necessity, that they cannot fail rapidly to produce good fruit, and I believe they have already produced some good fruit in Norwich. But as social knowledge ripens, as acquaintance with the means of securing the general well-being increases, so we may hope that the difficulties attending the reformation of evil habits will lessen; and although we may not hope to see established a condition of houses, of streets, of towns, of food and drink, of labour, and of all those conditions which would render human life and surroundings ideally perfect, yet continuous efforts must be made to realise for the community such moral and physical surroundings as shall conduce to their welfare in the highest possible degree. And to this end, let us be sure that nothing will contribute so much as that soberness and temperance which it is the object of this Church of England Society to encourage and inculcate.
III.
ON TORTOISES. 2
I have almost to apologize for bringing before so learned and critical a Society as this, the few notes and observations I have made upon the “manners and customs” of my pair of common land Tortoises, partly because I feel that much of what I have observed must also have been observed by other members of this Society; and still more because (as is well known) that incomparable master both of observation and expression – White of Selborne – has already noted, and placed upon record, the most interesting of the habits of these creatures.
Mine is thus necessarily a “twice-told tale.” I can only hope that the never flagging interest which naturalists take in the observation or record of the habits of animals, will suffice to make them bear with me for the short time I shall detain them.
I have in my garden two of the common land Tortoises (Testudo Grœca), and these have been in my possession three and four years respectively.
I purchased them from the barrow of a hawker in Norwich streets, in two following years – one being a little larger than the other, and they are in consequence known by the names of the old gentleman and the young gentleman.
Although selected as the best from a number of others, I am sorry to say that they both appeared to be ill or greatly injured, and it was a considerable time before they recovered sufficiently either to begin to take food, or to move about with their proper freedom, or with the well-known liveliness of Tortoises!
Another Tortoise, which I purchased, did actually die a short time afterwards, having lived in a state of semi-stupor for the intervening period; and I fear that the capability of these creatures for suffering is not much recognised in the usual methods of their conveyance and treatment.
The two Tortoises which survived have, as I said, now lived on my premises and thriven for three and four years. They have become almost pets. They most evidently recognise the place as their home. They know the various localities of the garden perfectly. They know the sunny spots to which to go at suitable times to bask. They know where to find sun, and where to find this and shade combined, when they so desire it; and they return, afternoon after afternoon, to the same cosy, and dry, and sheltered spots, under the dry ivy of the wall, or elsewhere, which they have often previously selected as their night’s abode.
It is very plain that they have some recognition of individuals. For instance, if Lady Eade and myself are both preparing to feed them, they will constantly leave me and walk off to her – doubtless because she is more in the habit of bringing them their favourite kinds of food than I am.
They appear to be quick of sight, but show very little, if any, sign of having any impressions conveyed to them by the sense of hearing. They evidently possess a full sense of taste, for they discriminate instantly between food they like, and that which is less palatable to them.
The daily habits of these creatures are certainly very staid and methodical, and vary but little, except as the season of the year, and the warmth of the day, vary.
They are often, in the height of summer, quite early risers, and on sunny mornings will often be up, and perambulating the garden, and nibbling the little trefoil leaves found amongst the grass, by seven or six o’clock, or even