nner
of its action in particular localities, and under particular
circumstances, have retained the credence accorded to them when first
announced, although subsequent discoveries have shown their fallacy; some
new theory of _modification_ having been invented to reconcile the
discrepancies as soon as they appeared. Perhaps it is not too much to say
(however it may seem to one not thoroughly acquainted with the subject,
who does not know that the _primary_ and secondary modifying hypotheses
found in Kaemtz, may be counted by hundreds) that there is not remaining in
any other science, and possibly in all others, an equal amount of false
and absurd theory, and of forced and unnatural grouping of admitted facts
to sustain it, as in meteorology as at present taught and received.
Astronomy, as a science, is almost perfected--the nature, and size, and
orbits, of the distant worlds around us are known--while constant changes
and alternating atmospheric conditions, which all occur _within less than
six miles of us_, affecting all our important interests, and obvious to
our senses, although much talked off, and made the objects of many
theories, are but little understood."

"How, then, did you acquire the information you seem to possess?"

"By studying '_the countenance of the sky_,' for in no other way has such
information ever been, or can it ever be, acquired. By a long-continued,
daily, and sometimes hourly observation of the clouds and currents of the
atmosphere, in connection with such reports of the then state of the
weather elsewhere, as have fallen under my notice, and the effect of its
changes upon the animal creation--for very much can be learned from them.
Yonder flock of black ducks that sit on that inshore rock, above the
tide--the wildest and most suspicious of all their tribe--although the
air is calm about them, know well that a storm is at hand. They probably
both see and feel it. As twilight approaches they will fly away inland,
forty or fifty miles perhaps, and settle among the lilies or grass which
surround some fresh-water pond, certain of remaining while the storm
lasts, and for one day at least, out of danger, and undisturbed. Many a
time, in my boyhood, have I heard, in the stillness of evening, the
whistling of their wings, as they swept up the Connecticut valley, to
seek, on the borders of the coves, and in the creeks of the meadows, a
concealed and safe feeding-place during a coming storm. And many a t