EDITORIAL 



303 



most delightful publication I have ever 

 seen. I and my wife enjoy reading 

 every word of it and looking at your 

 wonderful photographs. You are in- 

 deed to be congratulated upon such 

 success." 



"May we have your dollar to enroll 

 you as a subscriber?" 



"Oh, no, no, no," he said. "Our 

 house is already crowded with maga- 

 zines and papers. We have no time to 

 do justice to half of them." 



My dear sir, you are a long way 

 from being a naturalist, or from the 

 proper appreciation of our "little mag- 

 azine," and you are still further astray 

 from the home of frankness. Your 

 remarks so completely disprove what 

 you intend your words to convey that 

 your remarks are painful. What you 

 really said is, "There are a large num- 

 ber of magazines and newspapers, and 

 of them all I regard your magazine as 

 the least important." 



A young man came into my home a 

 few years ago and requested me to 

 show him the microscope. I think that 

 he was really interested and I should 

 have been pleased if he had said so, 

 but because he knew my interest in the 

 subject he thought that nothing short 

 of the highest laudation would gratify 

 me. He said something like this : "I 

 have been longing for several months 

 to get a microscope. It is the height 

 of my ambition. I think that I could 

 get more satisfaction and pleasure out 

 of a microscope than out of anything 

 else in this whole world. I am going 

 to buy one just as soon as I can, be- 

 cause I know that there is nothing bet- 

 ter." 



"Well," I said, "why not? The cost 

 in these days is not great. Why not?" 



"The trouble is that I have not 

 money enough. What would a really 

 good microscope cost?" I replied that 

 almost any amount from forty dollars 

 to seventy-five dollars would get a 

 satisfactory equipment. He said, "I 

 have just sixty dollars." 



I congratulated him. "You are able 

 to realize your wish. Send in vour 

 order at once." 



"Oh, no, no, no," he replied. "I 

 could not think of doing it now. I am 

 saving my money to buy a bicycle." 

 This was when a good bicycle cost 

 one hundred dollars. About two weeks 

 later T saw him with a fine bicvcle, but 



for several years he continued to assert 

 that he knew of nothing in all the land 

 that would afford him so much enjoy- 

 ment as a microscope. So far as I 

 know, he has not yet obtained it. I 

 do not blame him for selecting the bicy- 

 cle if he liked it better, but I deplore 

 his lack of frankness. His courtesy 

 and appreciation would have pleased 

 me more, if he had been more truthful. 

 It is his habit of mind that I deplore. 



If I were a Salvation Army worker 

 and should meet a Congregationalist, 

 I should not expect him to say, "I think 

 that your association is the best in the 

 world. If there is anything that I de- 

 sire to become it is a worker in the 

 Salvation Army." 



If I were a Democrat, and a Pro- 

 gressive should meet me would he say 

 as a matter of courtesy, "If there is 

 anything in all this land that I desire 

 to become, it is a Democrat?" 



Then in the name of common sense 

 why does everybody because I am a 

 naturalist say, "I think there is noth- 

 ing more delightful in all this world 

 than the study of nature. W^e all know 

 that it is a wonderful subject. It must 

 be ideal to live among such wonder- 

 ful things. I envy you every minute 

 of your time !" As Shakespeare more 

 than once remarked, "Go to !" 



My friend, I am telling you imper- 

 sonally because it would not be court- 

 eous to say it individually. Before 

 you manifest an interest in anything, 

 study the good old-fashioned quality 

 of frankness. 



If you were to go to the home of a 

 musician, the greatest compliment you 

 could pay him would be, "Please let 

 me have some of your music. Please 

 play for me." Why do you not use 

 ordinary common sense when you visit 

 a naturalist? Why do you hurl your- 

 self through the doorway and say, as 

 you consult your watch, "I know that 

 you are a busy man. I would not 

 think of taking any of your valuable 

 time so I am going to stay just a few- 

 minutes. And, indeed, I have to catch 

 a train." Why come if you come only 

 to go? 



What is desired by a naturalist in 

 charge of an Institution like ArcAdiA 

 is to have a visitor show that he is re- 

 luctant to go away. We wind here the 

 great hunting horn of nature, and the 

 longer you stay to hear the music, and 



