In a land even beyond far distant Cathay, according to Maundevile, “growethe a maner of Fruyt as thoughe it weren gowrdes, and whan thei ben rype men kutten hem a to and fynden with inne a lytylle Best in Flessche, in Bon and Blode, as though it were a lytylle Lamb with outen Wolle. And Men eten bothe the Fruyt and the Best, and that is a gret Marveylle. Of that Frut I have eten, alle thoughe it were wondirfulle, but that I knowe wel that God is marveyllous in his Werkes. And nathles I tolde hem that in oure Contree weren Trees that beren a Fruyt that becomen Briddes fleeynge, and tho that fellen in the Water lyven, and thei that fellen on the Erthe dyen anon, and thei ben righte gode to Mannes mete. And here of had thei als gret marvaylle that sume of hem trowed it were an impossible thing to be.” One would have thought that people who were quite familiar with the sight of a lamb-tree would have found no great difficulty in believing in a goose-tree. Anyone who can credit the one should feel no hesitation in accepting the other. Saxo Grammaticus, Lobel, Valcetro, and many other writers, refer to the barnacle-tree, some with full belief in it, others more dubiously, but it is, of course, needless to quote a multiplicity of authors. Should any of our readers themselves feel any doubt in the matter, they may very advantageously pay a visit to a good museum, where probably, even if they fail to find a goose-tree, they may see much else that will be almost equally a wonder and a delight to them. The ancients thoroughly believed that the eagle proved her young by forcing them to gaze upon the sun, discarding any that failed to face the test, and the belief survived well into the Middle Ages. “Before that her little ones bee feathered she will beat and strike them with her wings, and thereby force them to looke full against the sunne beames. Now if shee see any one of them to winke or their eies to water at the raies of the sunne shee turnes it with the head foremost out of the nest as a bastard and none of hers, but bringeth up and cherisheth that whose eie will abide the light of the sunne as she looketh directly upon him.” It will be remembered that Shakespeare, in King Henry VI., refers to this old belief when the Duke of Gloucester addresses the young prince in the words— “Nay, if thou be that princely eagle’s bird, Show thy descent[76] by gazing ’gainst the sun.” In Ariosto, again, we have the same reference, where he styles the eagle “The bird That dares with steadfast eyes Apollo’s light.” And Dryden exclaims in his “Britannia Rediviva,” “Truth, which is light itself, doth darkness shun, And the true eaglet safely dares the sun.”