202 MY LIFE AS A NATURALIST 



Taking cover from the noonday heat under a wide-spreading 

 Oak of massive grandeur, we begin to moralise upon the service 

 rendered by Nature study to this, the twentieth century, especi- 

 ally as we are inspired by the lyrical notes of a Goldfinch (Fig. 83) 

 in the tree overhead. It is a new bird for wilderness and garden, 

 and we are delighted to both see and hear it, because last year we 

 had strong suspicion that it was one of the rare bird tenants 

 hereabouts, but could not settle the point satisfactorily. 



Coming back to our moralising after this pleasant diversion, 

 we may interpolate that, apart from the delight which Nature 

 gives to every normal person, its study is capable of far-reaching 

 service in human development, and, once we realise this effect 

 on the individual, we can perhaps appraise its value collectively 

 in the education of the race. 



Training the eye and ear brightens the intelligence, for example, 

 when the children of the school gardening class, these little 

 planters and growers sowers and reapers begin to take an 

 interest in their work, and have to deal with proper names, as 

 well as keep correct details, as they are driven with increased 

 zest to consult their books for information. Thus these young 

 cultivators, led from careful attention to a few forms of life, 

 become observant of many, and a weekly ramble out-of-doors 

 such as all schools should encourage under the expert guidance 

 of a Field Naturalist would prove much more thought-provoking 

 than indoor cramming. 



These healthy lessons, systematically associated with practical 

 ground-work, soon establishes a love for Nature which leads 

 from the particular to the universal, and is indestructible in later 

 life. Besides this, I am convinced that Nature study tends to 

 foster accurate statement, candour of mind, and breadth of 

 outlook upon life. 



To the town-bred, dim-ev,ed childern of the cigarette blow- 

 ing their smoke between the field is a dull wilderness, and far 

 different to the wilderness among whose glories we are now 

 seated, whereas to those who were country-bred the landscape 

 is vivid with life, its seasonal and diurnal changes possessing an 

 inexhaustible charm. The true country-lover finds Mother Earth 

 abounding in pleasurable toils, and manifold endearments ! 



Not that these influences fail to break in everywhere, and 

 inundate all places, but in the city they find people preoccupied. 

 There, one is too busy with things which do not really matter to 

 take pleasure in them. As to the invasion of what is called Wild 



