HOW I BECAME A NATURALIST 11 



engrossed with the wonders of the outdoor world. In process 

 of time this wonder grew to very joy, and, in after life, an im- 

 mense blessing. In 1911 it saved me from a permanent mental 

 breakdown. As G. K. Chesterton has written in " The Priest 

 of Spring " : " When I look across the sun-struck fields I know 

 in my inmost bones that my joy is not solely in the Spring ; for 

 Spring alone, being always returning, would be always sad. 

 There is somebody, or something, walking there, to be crowned 

 with flowers ; and my pleasure is in some promise yet possible, 

 and in the resurrection of the dead." 



*The country meant everything to me right from the beginning, 

 it was, as it remains, my Alpha and Omega, though (and perhaps 

 fortunately) all do not experience alike. Some of my neighbours 

 and acquaintances find the country a dull place indeed. Nature's 

 workshop is of little, if any, interest to them. 



At first, and for many years afterwards, birds made a great 

 appeal to me. I was fascinated with their winning ways and 

 passionate outbursts of song, by their wonderful homesteads 

 and callow fledglings. I yearned to be able to know them one 

 by one, and the more I came to love them so did my knowledge 

 extend. I had no place in my life for a colourless existence. 

 Learning, I soon realised, was the fruit of effort ; prosperity, I 

 discovered, only takes root in continuous and painstaking labour. 

 As Kaufman, in his witty, epigrammatic way, has pointed out, 

 efficiency isn't a birthright, but an education. This world is 

 our legacy. Our portion is only bounded by our own ability 

 and zeal. Our title is clear to anything which we can honestly 

 reach. Resolution is a mint. With a sound constitution, and 

 an alert mind, we may all become capitalists, and thus invest 

 ourselves ! 



The years rolled by. Season succeeded season. As Richard 

 Jefferies would say, I loved to watch the effect of the rising sap 

 up, up the living staircase of the Spring, towards the great gallery 

 of Summer, and the more I studied Nature in all her aspects, 

 under all conditions, even in the restricted domain of my own 

 parish, I was awed, amazed, electrified, bewildered, with the 

 immense scheme of existence. 



I started business at the age of fourteen in the greatest city of 

 the world, within earshot of Bow Bells, where my great-uncle, 

 Richard Westall, also spent his apprenticeship days as already 

 narrated. I used to spend my luncheon hour in the high-railed 

 garden of Finsbury Circus feeding the Sparrows and Pigeons, 



