II94 LIFE : OUTLINES OF GENERAL BIOLOGY 



synthesis, which were young in Ufe in the days we now call 

 old, unnumbered millions of years ago. 



THE CULTURAL VALUE OF NATURAL HISTORY 



Much has been said, and well said, in recent years in regard to the 

 contributions which biological science is making to "the relief of 

 man's estate". Does it not help him in his exploitation of Nature, 

 to get more fish out of the sea, and to make two blades of grass 

 grow where one grew before? Does it not strengthen his hands 

 against his enemies, so that the serpent that bites his heel is 

 becoming more and more minute, and many diseases, like those 

 caused by hookworm and Bilharzia, the malaria organism and the 

 diphtheria microbe, are shrinking every year. 



Is not Biology enabling man to understand himself better, in the 

 light, for instance, of the hormones that regulate the life of the 

 body? Is not applied Biology bringing man nearer the attainment 

 of that positive health which is characteristic of Wild Nature? 

 More than that, has not Biology given man a new policy — the 

 betterment of organism, functioning and environment (Folk, Work, 

 and Place), more definite concrete ideals in the light of which he 

 can guide his own evolution. Biology has contributed to man's 

 wealth and health; new knowledge has given him new power. When 

 he cares enough, he has science enough to ameliorate the generations 

 yet unborn. 



But, passing from these practical gifts, let us think again of 

 another kind of value, not less important, the enrichment of 

 the mind, the development of the spirit of man. In other words, 

 let us inquire into the culture-value of Natural History, using that 

 old-fashioned term in its widest sense. 



If we may re-emphasise the ways in which Natural History 

 contributes to our mental culture, the first is in giving us pictures 

 that are treasures. No doubt the shepherd has his simple picture of 

 the countryside, but the eye sees what it brings with it the power 

 of seeing; and well-informed vision is richest and clearest. So the 

 Natural History picture-gallery is full of masterpieces. There, for 

 instance, in sombre colours, is the picture of life in the great abysses 

 of the ocean. The floor of the Deep Sea shows vast undulating plains 

 like sand-dunes, but covered with slimy mud. No scenery, no sound, 

 no vegetation, not even rottenness. But many animals have colonised 

 these inhospitable depths, some anchored, others slowly swimming, 

 as if half asleep, and others walking delicately with stilt-like legs on 

 the treacherous ooze. Sluggish existences there, devouring one 

 another in a grim sequence of reincarnations, the last link in the 

 chain depending on the ceaseless snow-shower of moribund minutiae 



