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THE GUIDE TO NATURE 



prayed might not be of wood but of 

 such a nature as to give me a safe and 

 sure footing'. Remember that I must 

 be ready at any moment to lose my 

 life in your service. 



And finally, O my master, when 

 my useful strength is gone, do not 

 turn me out to starve or freeze, or sell 

 me to some cruel owner, to be slowly 

 tortured and starved to death ; but do 

 thou, my Master, take my life in the 

 kindest way, and your God will reward 

 you here and hereafter. You will not 

 consider me irreverent if I ask this in the 

 name of Him who was born in a stable. 

 Amen. — Connecticut Humane Society. 



A Heart View of Love of Life. 



Why is it that so few persons even 

 among the educated are genuinely and 

 broadly interested in and informed 

 about plants and animals? Of course 

 everybody cares for plants to the extent 

 of wanting good table vegetables and 

 fruits, and nearly everybody cares for 

 flowers. Everybody, too, is interested 

 in the domestic products of the animal 

 world ; and most of us have more or 

 less fondness for a few pet animals. 

 After this much has been said it will 

 be allowed, I think, that nine tenths 

 of all grown persons in Christian lands 

 are quite indifferent to the myriads of 

 plants and animals by which they are 

 surrounded. Why is this? Perhaps 

 some one asks what sense there is in 

 such a question. To justify the con- 

 tention that the great rank and file of 

 mortals ought not to be thus indif- 

 ferent, we must reflect a bit on the 

 state of being alive, on its nature and 

 scope. 



Are you fond of living? Are you 

 one of that great number of human be- 

 ings who assent to the saying that life 

 is the most interesting thing in the 

 world, the thing to be most sought 

 after, most watchfully tended? What 

 life is it which you thus appraise? 

 Human life, you say promptly ; and 

 that is well, so far. But what is human 

 life? Is it something wholly apart 

 from the living things round about 

 you? Surely you have noted some ele- 

 ments in common between the human 



life you love so dearly and the lowly 

 life you care so little for. And you 

 have heard something of what the 

 learned have made out about "Alan's 

 place in Nature." 



I ask you to summon the best 

 thought of which you are capable, and 

 tell me if you have no feeling of selfish- 

 ness, of smallness, of meanness, when 

 you assert your love of life and mean 

 by "life" nothing more than your own 

 life and that of your family and friends, 

 or even of humanity generally. On 

 the other hand, tell me with equal 

 candor, do you not have a sense of 

 largeness, of generosity, of outgoing to 

 all about you, when your love of life 

 encompasses everything that lives ? 



By asking the question, Why are 

 most persons so indifferent toward 

 most living things, we approach the 

 answer to the question : It is because 

 our theory of life does not include all 

 life, and because it is not made by our 

 whole selves. It is made by the intel- 

 lectual side of our natures ; the affec- 

 tive, the emotional side having almost 

 no part in the process. — Professor Wm. 

 B. Ritter in a remarkable and valuable 

 article, "Feeling in The Interpretation 

 of Nature" in "The Pofular Science 

 Monthly." 



"It is better to give than to receive," 

 — and some people seem generously 

 willing that others should have the 

 better! 



Vespers. 



BURNHAM W. KING, NEW YORK CITY. 



The curtain of the night rolls slowly down, 

 The strident voices of the day are stilled, 

 The distant clouds have lost their rosy heads, 

 The warm zephyrs of the air are chilled. 



The breezes waft the loons long laughing cry, 

 The sparrow softly pipes his evening lay, 

 The seagulls weary seek their distant home. 

 The stars peep through the curtain of the day. 



The lap of waves upon the rocky shore, 

 The whippoorwill's incessant mournful call, 

 The boom of night-hawks as they soar aloft, 

 Make discord in the silence over all. 



The silhouette of pines against the sky, 

 The purple shimmer when the day has past, 

 The dipper slowly moves in measured arc, 

 The curtain of the night is down at last. 



