reached his fellow-lodgers, and his landlord thought him "a crazy herb-doctor." He died alone, and left no salable assets, and his landlord refused to allow his friends—such friends as he had—to enter the house to give him a decent burial. He wished to make good the unpaid rent by selling the body to a medical college. But at night, so the story goes, a physician who had studied botany with Rafinesque got a few friends together, and broke into the garret and carried away the body, which they buried in a little churchyard outside the town, now obliterated by the growth of Philadelphia.
American naturalists have greater honor now than forty years ago. Rafinesque died unnoticed and was buried only by stealth. A whole nation wept for Agassiz. But a difference was in the men as well as in the times. Both were great naturalists and learned men. Both had left high reputations in Europe to cast their lot with America. Agassiz's great heart went out toward every one with whom he came in contact. But Rafinesque loved no man or woman, and died, as he had lived, alone.
If some loving hand had followed him to the last, it might have been with Rafinesque as with Albrecht Dürer: "'Emigravit’ is the inscription on the headstone where he lies." But there was no such hand, and there is neither headstone nor inscription, and we know not even the place where he rests after his long journey.
OF THE UNIVERSITY OF JENA.
AT first sight the superscription, "counting unconsciously," seems to contain a contradiction. For, whoever counts from one to one hundred, realizes at each number, that he is counting; yet, in truth, there are so many instances where an educated person counts without realizing it, that he would feel utterly lost in this world should this faculty be suddenly taken from him.
Three coins being placed on a table, any one will, on being asked, "How many are there?" answer, after but a glance, "Three." Even when four or five coins are seen but for a moment, the answer as to their number will be correctly given. So quickly is the answer returned that no time can possibly have been taken for counting. Hence, it follows that counting unconsciously is really an every-day occurrence. The objection that this is no longer to be termed counting, is not valid; for if any one can positively state that there are lying before him three, or four, or five objects, he must be able to distinguish numbers; and it is certainly a fact that one who can not count, can also not answer such questions. Children, in order to dis-