m, THE HOSPITALITIES OF NATURE. 



55 



gregarious or social tendency. They crowd together 

 into tufts and colonies and clumps, for the sake of 

 mutual warmth and shelter ; and strive, by combination, 

 to ward off evils and achieve results which they could 

 not do individually. The heather, by reason of its 

 social habit, is enabled to live on the wild, desolate 

 moorland ; and the pine on the mountain-crest main- 

 tains itself by the sympathy of its congregated fellows. 

 Even the moss, which in mild and agreeable circum- 

 stances in the deep shade of the wood or on the 

 sheltered bank of the stream becomes individual, 

 in exposed situations forms large tufts and cushions, 

 and spreads itself over a wide, continuous area. 



A spring or stream of water is the most hospit- 

 able of all things. It is the heart of nature, from 

 which circulates the vital fluid that nourishes all 

 the verdure and life around. Without it there could 

 be no exercise of hospitality anywhere; and all 

 living things only pay to each other the debt which 

 they first of all owe to the spring or stream. The 

 complex civilization of man himself originates in it ; 

 and finding it, he finds in it the fountain head of much 

 that he is seeking in this world. 



But it is impossible to follow to the end this curious 

 chapter in the natural history of our world. We find 

 that, in the vast majority of cases, nature is open on 

 every side like a tree to the visits of all her living forms. 

 She is continually on hospitable thoughts intent, and 

 has so thoroughly imbued her offspring with her own 

 ideas that they readily fall in with her plans. She 



