Importance of a Knowledge of Natural History. 9jj 

 otherwise lie heavy on the hands of the young, or incite, per- 

 haps, to dangerous irregularities. It afFords exercise to the 

 mind, and frequently adds to the sum of human knowledge. 

 It has also over every other study, this pecuhar advantage, 

 that whithersoever fortune may direct our footsteps, materials 

 for it present themselves to our view. The pathless forest, the 

 arid plain, the alpine rock, the desert island, tender by turns 

 their varied and inexhaustible stores, and demand of us only 

 exercise of body as the price at which they will furnish us with 

 food for the mind. Even the boundless waste of ocean, which 

 the common traveller views with an eye of apathy or apprehen- 

 sion, yields to the naturalist a rich harvest of amusement and 

 instruction. A man possessed of a taste for natural history, has 

 It in his power to amass a store of subjects, wherewith he can 

 associate a train of agreeable recollections sufficient to afford him 

 amusement during the remainder of his life ; not to mention 

 the pleasure he must feel in sharing his discoveries with those 

 who have the same taste with himself, but who want the oppor- 

 tunity of indulging it, 



" There is no denying that this branch of education may en- 

 gender a host of unfledged philosophers, who will fancy, on 

 their outset in life, that every thing must be new to others 

 which appears so to ourselves ; and when such undertake to 

 visit remote countries, and communicate to the world the result 

 of their observations, we must be prepared to meet with a little 

 vanity and egotism, inflated language, extravagant theories, and 

 deductions not always the most legitimate. With these draw- 

 backs, however, the journal of a young traveller moderately 

 skilled in natural history, will prove infinitely more interesting 

 to the intelligent class of readers, than that of a person who is 

 totally ignorant of that branch of science." 



After taking his diploma as surgeon, in the University of 

 Edinburgh, Mr Carmichael returned to reside with his father 

 at Lismore, where, as may be imagined, he again applied to his 

 favourite pursuits. But his circle of observation was limited, 

 for this island does not abound in such productions as attract 

 the eye of a young botanist. It is but little elevated above the 

 level of the sea, and entirely formed of a bluish coloured lime- 

 stone, more or less crystallized, which is occasionally traversed 



