88 LOSING THE POINTS. 



experienced that; and, therefore, though our ob- 

 ject is only to cross a portion of country by the 

 shortest road, observation is the most certain 

 means by which we can attain that object ; and 

 thus, one of the earliest lessons that the observer 

 of nature requires is " how to keep his way." 

 Take the most intelligent friend that you have, in 

 or near London, who has lived within view of a 

 certain reach of the Thames, till he has associated 

 the direction of the river there with the other points 

 of the horizon, put a compass in your pocket and 

 walk with him along the bank of the river from 

 Vauxhall to Windsor, or for any other considerable 

 distance, and keep him engaged in conversation 

 all the while, so that he should take little notice 

 of the objects which he passes, then stopping at any 

 place you will, where there is only a small straight 

 portion of the river in view, ask him its direction 

 and get his answer. Then pull out your pocket 

 compass and learn the true direction by that; and 

 you will find that your friend's notion has little, 

 if any, reference to that, but that with him the 

 Thames always runs in the same direction as it does 

 within his own " reach." Even you yourself, al- 

 though you may try to guard against it, will find 

 that, as the river bends gently northward or south- 

 ward, your compass becomes false both ways by 

 turns, and that the very sun shifts about in the 

 heavens, gets sometimes very rapidly westward, 

 and at other times retrogrades eastward. 



Where there are pathways people can " keep 

 the rut," and hold on their journey and arrive at 

 the end of it with certainty, just as the dull plod 

 on in life by imitating others ; but in the new, 

 whether on a journey in life or in action, there 



