1899] THE STUDY OF NATURAL HISTORY 



439 



problem of the shore-pool, the wayside pond, the open sea, the moorland 

 tarn, the bird-berg, in short, wild nature and its drama of life ? Unless 

 we get back to that we are forgetting the picture and the problem 

 with which we start, the outlook which our eyes afford us — in other 

 words, the facts of the case. It is this second note which I wish to 

 catch more precisely. To show its strength and clearness, and that we 

 may be encouraged in listening for it, I have ventured on a short 

 statement of the problems of the naturalist, freed as far as possible 

 from personal bias, a programme, as it were, which would be admitted 

 by all to be in no way one-sided and yet so disposed that the value of 

 the old naturalist's note may be made evident. I wish to suggest that 

 natural history or bionomics cannot be either stable or progressive if it 

 stand aloof from the results of the anatomical and physiological, 

 embryological and palaeontological disciplines ; and on the other hand, 

 that these disciplines are to be saved from losing perspective and interest 

 by being kept in touch with life as it is lived in nature. 



The First Question — What is This? 



The naturalist's first question — however learnedly he may phrase 

 it — is one of the child's first questions, asked long before it can speak 

 — " What is this ? " In how many different tones — of fear, of awe, of 

 wonder, of inquisitiveness — has this question been asked since man and 

 science began ! Was it not Aristotle's question when a new specimen 

 was brought to him ? was it not the question on the Challenger, when 

 the dredge came up ? is it not the question on the lips of every teacher 

 and student of natural history to-day ? — What is this ? It is a 

 " simple question," but how hard to answer, as we press it further and 

 further home, from external features to internal structure, from 

 organs to tissues, from tissues to cells, as we put one lens after 

 another in front of our own, as we call to our aid all sorts of devices 

 — scalpel and forceps, razor and microtome, fixative and stain. " What 

 is this," we say, " in itself and in all its parts ? what is this by itself and 

 when compared with its fellows and kindred ? " and our answer broadens 

 and deepens till it furnishes the raw materials of the science of Mor- 

 phology. Inquisitiveness is one of the prime movers of science, and 

 one of the diagnostic characters of the scientific mood is a dislike of 

 obscurities, of blurred vision, and of fogginess. The student who is 

 never sure whether he sees a thing or not, who is satisfied with the 

 ill-defined image seen through an imperfectly-focussed microscope, 

 whose dissection is invariably like a jungle, has not the scientific 

 rudiment in him. We must have the ideal of seeing clearly. The 

 mole has a sort of half-finished lens, which is physically incapable of 

 throwing a precise image on the retina. If there is any image it must 

 be a blurred tangle of lines. To press home the naturalist's first 



