CHAPTER IX. 



Ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee ; and the fowls of 

 the air, and they shall tell thee ; or speak to the earth, and it shall 

 teach thee ; and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee. Who 

 knoweth not in all these that the hand of the Lord hath wrought 

 this ?— Job xii. 7—9. 



The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shew- 

 eth his handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto 

 night showeth knowledge. — Psalm xix. 1, 2. 



THE EIGHT USE OF NATURAL HISTORY. 



On a briglit sunny morning in September, I found 

 myself on a lonely part of the shore about a mile 

 from the town. I had taken the gratification of a 

 bathe, and felt invigorated, but not wearied, with the 

 exertion of swimming. I had come down to this part 

 of the shore to search a particular ledge at the lowest 

 water of spring-tide, but I had somewhat anticipated 

 my time, as the tide had yet a full hour to recede. 

 Compelled therefore to involuntary idleness, I laid my 

 collecting basket on the white sand, and sat down on 

 one of the blocks of red conglomerate, immediately 

 under the ruins of Sandsfoot Castle, which crown the 

 edge of the cliff, abeady partly fallen, and threatening, 

 at no distant date, to descend, a mere heap of dis- 

 jointed stones, upon the beach. 



My thoughts began to run on the utility, the real 

 legitimate object, of Natural History ; the manner in 



