358 NATHANIEL SOUTHGATE SHALER 



called "private moraine," and on the still farther uplands. On 

 these high places, in the vales and out-of-the-way nooks, he 

 found balm for his nerves and wisdom for his writings, as well 

 as the stillness his soul craved. 



Under his leadership the pursuit of the thistle became a family 

 occupation and each mind was fertile in warlike invention. It 

 was variously suggested that the flower be touched with some 

 blighting poison ; the plant be mowed and burned. Again there 

 were those who waited, to use Mr. Shaler's own phrase, "for a 

 critical point" in the life of the thistle the period in which 

 a new mode of action is suddenly introduced that will trans- 

 form it from a selfish cumberer of the soil into a life-sustaining 

 herb. The sight of one of these nuisances always provoked a 

 warm discussion. It was claimed that one had but to cut down 

 a full-grown specimen to evoke a circle of confident and lively 

 little ones equally voracious for earth, air, and sun. As evi- 

 dence of their possible subjugation, Mr. Shaler pointed to one 

 hill where with his own hands he had entirely routed them, 

 though they had strewn the ground as thick as autumn leaves. 

 In most places, however, they were simply held back, the will 

 to live baffling the will to destroy. The teaching value of the 

 thistle in patience became immense; its obstinate effort to per- 

 petuate itself the theme of acrid criticism. In love with all 

 nature, Mr. Shaler was opposed to this hostile attitude ; it was 

 well to destroy them, he thought, but not well to harbor 

 malice against them; they were, he claimed, expert runners in 

 the race of life and their monumental effort to propagate them- 

 selves was worthy of admiration. It was thus that he looked 

 off upon the universe with a sympathetic mind. 



When friends, wishing to enjoy the pleasure of his company, 

 would arm themselves with hoes and offer to go with him on his 

 walks, the suggestion was greeted with a twitch of the shoulder 

 and a peculiar light in his eyes, and forthwith he would start 

 off setting a pace which he felt sure few could follow ; and know- 

 ing as he did every sheep-path that led through swamps, 



