NA TURE 



[November 7, 1895 



looked for would have been a new description of the 

 animal and vegetable world in their natural relations 

 under the observed conditions of their life, interpreted 

 in the light of the new principles which he himself had 

 gone so far to establish. And this, as it seems to me, 

 marks out the field of work of the naturalist of to-day 

 and to-morrow. He must have grasped the nature of 

 the great biological problems which the latter half of this 

 ■century has opened up ; he must retain the keenness of 

 eye and quickness of observation which characterised 

 the older naturalists ; he must deal chiefly in accurate 

 and graphic description, and not too much indulge in 

 speculation — keeping his more speculative work for other 

 modes of presentation ; but he must also be to us the 

 interpreter of the facts of animal and vegetable life as it 

 is lived m the open face of nature, in terms of recognised 

 principles of biology, and yet wholly without prejudice, 

 forcing no dogma upon nature, expecting daily to discover 

 new truths, and aware of the provisional character of so 

 many of the conclusions of the evolutionist. 



If then we attempt to define the naturalist, we may 

 say: first, that his subject-matter is animate nature 

 as it is ; the inter-relations of living things in the web 

 of life, the bionomics or higher physiology of organisms. 

 Secondly, that his method is primarily observational ; 

 but that, if the synthetic picture is to be achieved, he 

 must be aware to the full of the results of analysis in 

 physiology, psychology, and aetiology. And thirdly, that 

 his mood must be sympathetic, and that to be successful 

 in his presentation he must combine the qualities, not 

 •only of the man of science, but also of the artist. 



While much admirable and fascinating work has been 

 •done by traveller-naturalists in many parts of the world, 

 it must be remembered that there is abundant work for 

 the stay-at-home naturalists in the ponds and hedge- 

 rows, woods and shores, of our own country. The 

 members of our field-clubs may do excellent service to 

 the general cause of natural history. But, without deny- 

 ing the value of cataloguing the local faunas and floras, 

 we must recognise that many field-clubs and naturalists' 

 societies err in confining themselves too exclusively to 

 this. Precise observations as to the habits of animals, 

 and the environmental relations are needed even more 

 urgently than systematic work of this kind. 



And here a word or two may be said on " Natural 

 Histories." Most of the natural histories of animals 

 have not sufficiently shaken themselves free from the 

 bondage of the systematist. They are to a large extent 

 hybrid works with a foundation of more or less popularly 

 expressed systematic zoology, and sections or para- 

 graphs on habit and instinct. Brehm's " Tierleben " is, 

 however, a treasure-house of observations as to the life 

 and habits of animals to which Darwin and many others 

 have freely acknowledged their indebtedness, while 

 others have not. The " natural history," as such, should 

 have for its primary subject the inter-relation of animals 

 .and plants, the web of life as it is presented to our study ; 

 .and to this all reference to anatomical structure, system- 

 .atic position, and individual habit, should be made sub- 

 sidiary. In botany, Kerner's great work, a translation 

 ■of which by Prof. Oliver is now published, affords an 

 admirable example of what a natural history should be. 

 The bionomic note is here distinctly dominant. 



Of course under the new conditions of the present time 

 the preliminary training of the naturalist needs to be both 

 wider and fuller than was either possible or necessary for 

 the older naturalists. He must be not only well read in, 

 but must have real practical acquaintance with, physio- 

 logical and biological investigation. There is, moreover, 

 one point in connection with the preliminary training of 

 the naturalist which appears to me to be important. In 

 his description of animal life he will have to interpret 

 many of their actions in terms of the underlying mental 

 processes. To do this with any success he should have 



NO. 1358, VOL. 53] 



a training in psychological methods. Such training has 

 been too much neglected in the naturalists of the past ; 

 and even now it is often assumed, or so it would seem, 

 that whereas when biological problems are concerned, the 

 guidance of untrained mother-wit is, by itself, scarcely 

 adequate, yet, when psychological problems are con- 

 cerned, this is amply sufficient. 



That his work may be effectual, the naturalist should 

 be not only a man of science but a man of letters. This 

 will give to his interpretation a special value. But he 

 must be both in equal degree. He must not, as is too 

 often the case with magazine writers, regard natural his- 

 tory as merely a subject on which may be written a 

 certain number of bright and pleasing pages which shall 

 not require any undue amount of exercise of thought on 

 the part of his readers. Not that in saying this I would 

 utter one word in disparagement of such writers as 

 Kingsley, Jefferies, and Burroughs, of Mr. Warde Fowler, 

 and a number of keen observers who have made their 

 observations the subjects of delightful essays. Nay, 

 rather I would contend that these writers have done good 

 service m illustrating the value of the sympathetic mood, 

 in emphasising a healthy reaction against " mere necro- 

 logy," in vindicating the right of the amateur to con- 

 tribute towards the end all naturalists have in view. But 

 I still feel that, for the naturalist as such, his first and 

 foremost object must not be to give us pleasure by his 

 manner and method, by his delicacy of touch and his 

 imaginative treatment ; it must rather be to tell us some- 

 thing which in and for itself is worth knowing, since it 

 will give us a deeper and truer insight into the world of 

 living things. Literary finish, grace of style, imagination 

 and graphic power should be there ; but this should be 

 like the cutting and polishing of the gem which, though 

 it enhances its value, does not by any means constitute 

 the chief element thereof. 



The species naturalist, then, is not dead but liveth. 

 It includes not only the professional, but the so-called 

 amateur. The naturalist has been of late in La Plata, in 

 Borneo, in Celebes ; he has told us of the wonders of 

 animal life on the ocean surface ; he has watched the 

 struggle for existence in a tropical forest and on 

 the sea-shore ; he is at work among aquatic insects, 

 and learns the ways of birds and insects on Bindon 

 Hill ; he knows not only the zoology but the 

 natural history of rotifers, and can discourse delightfully 

 to the Royal Microscopical Society on the unnecessary 

 difficulties in the way of studying natural history ; and he 

 still looks out across the waters of Poole Harbour to 

 Corfe Castle, and tells us of the days of his youth in the 

 Malay Archipelago. 



In conclusion we may say that just as the early poets 

 were frankly and naively descriptive, so too were the 

 early naturalists. Neither dealt in deep and subtle 

 analysis. But the time of analysis came and flooded the 

 world. The modern poet profits by all this analysis, is 

 indeed a subtle analyst himself ; but, as poet, he keeps 

 his analysis out of sight, and gives us a new -presentation 

 of nature in descriptive and synthetic form. So too must 

 the modern naturalist profit to the full by all the biological 

 and psychological analysis of his times ; but, as 

 naturalist, he must keep all this out of sight, and give us 

 a new presentation of animal and vegetable life in de- 

 scriptive and synthetic form. And he must remember 

 that his picture will not be complete unless it include 

 man himself. For man is also in the web of life, 

 influencing and being influenced by all around him ; 

 nowise to be ignored, but to be taken account of to-day 

 as he was by Humboldt, and by the stronger naturalists 

 of the old school. And this new descriptive presentation 

 of nature, as it reveals itself to the eye and brain of the 

 modem naturalist, will differ chiefly from that of his 

 predecessor, first, in that it is no longer a piece of 

 amiable eccentricity, but is in close touch with the 



