of ruined castles in Switzerland. He carefully details the breeding stations, including one situated on the promontory of Pola, on the Adriatic, explaining how a man was lowered over the edge of the precipice with a rope, in order to take the young birds, which were esteemed great delicacies by epicures. He supplies precise particulars of the life-history of this little-known Ibis, and furnishes its provincial names. Young Ibises were taken from their nests before they could fly, in order that they might become tame and attractive pets. A dead Ibis, which Gesner had an opportunity of dissecting, proved to have been feeding upon certain insects that affect the roots of standing corn. Notwithstanding the heavy strain of his general literary labours, Gesner sustained his lively interest in ornithology to the close of his life. He tells us that "in the past year we first heard Cranes migrating on the 11th of September, one hour before nightfall; but in the year 1561 we heard Cranes passing through the air at four in the afternoon, and at nine at night, on the 17th of October, the weather being very mild."
It was the introduction of the plague into Europe which brought a great public sorrow to the Zurichers in the year 1565. The fatal carbuncle appeared on the left side of the victim, near the heart. It was in a dangerous position, but was not accompanied by fever. As many of those who were attacked by this terrible malady had already succumbed to its ravages, Gesner took leave of his acquaintances, confided his personal wishes to his most intimate friend, Henry Bullinger, and prepared for the worst. His chief anxiety was to give as little trouble as possible. "Sic qui in vita multis commodus, molestus fuit nemini." About eleven at night, when he felt that the end was near, he summoned his wife, and expressed a wish to be carried into his museum. His desire was gratified, and a little later he gently passed away—"atque paulo post illic in manibus uxoris, inter pias preces, leniter die decima tertia Decembris exspiravit."
Aldrovandi was a man of active habits, fond of field-work, and a careful observer. He was also the centre of a large circle of friends, who admired his enormous learning, and delighted to present him with rare or unexpected specimens. It is charming to read of the gifts which poured in on him—now a beautiful Greenland Falcon, which had died at Rome, and was considered
