W33 



7 



PREFACE. 



WATERTON once remarked to me that the naturalist, as well as the 

 poet, might be said to be born, not made. An examination of the 

 works on Natural History, and of the proceedings of zoological 

 societies, confirms this opinion. The number of writers is great, 

 but the permanent value of the productions is small, and bears 

 about the same proportion to their bulk that a phial of attar of 

 roses does to the bushels of flowers from which it is extracted. 

 Many pursue science as a means of accumulating wealth, more, 

 perhaps, as a ladder to notoriety. The former class cannot stop 

 to consider details and arguments which will not yield a pecuniary 

 return. The latter live in fear of being forestalled, and publish 

 half-made observations and crude theories, lest some other com- 

 petitor in the race of vanity should snatch from them the applause. 

 They frequently attain the riches or the celebrity for which they 

 strive. Their reputation is great for a time, but its decay is as 

 rapid as its growth, and a few years after their death their works 

 sleep like the authors in dust 



This is so usual a result, that some persons have supposed this 

 ephemeral quality to be an inherent disadvantage of scientific work. 

 But the conclusion is mistaken. Science, pursued for its own sake, 

 with patient research and prolonged thought, will always yield dis- 



