Ill 



SCIENCE 



IN my excursions into nature, science plays a 

 part, but not the leading part; it is like a silent 

 monitor and friend who speaks when spoken to. 

 Or I may say that I carry it in the back of my head 

 and only now and then in the front. I do not go forth 

 as an ornithologist taking note of the birds, nor as a 

 botanist taking note of the flowers, nor as a zoologist 

 studying the wild creatures, nor as a biologist, peep- 

 ing and prying into the mysteries of life, but as a 

 nature-lover pure and simple, who gathers much 

 through sympathy and observation. 



I am committed to no specific object; my walk is 

 satisfactory if I fail to add a particle to my store 

 of nature knowledge. 



Oh, the wisdom that grows on trees, that mur- 

 murs in the streams, that floats in the wind, that 

 sings ui the birds, that is fragrant in the flowers, 

 that speaks in the storms — the wisdom that one 

 gathers on the shore, or when sauntering in the 

 fields, or in resting under a tree, the wisdom that 

 makes him forget his science, and exacts only his 

 love — how precious it all is ! 



Love of nature does not depend upon exact 

 knowledge, though exact knowledge has its value. 



252 



