INTRODUCTION. ix 



Now, supposing that you are full of ardour, and ready to 

 proceed, allow me to offer you a little advice. Leave nothing 

 to memory, but note down all your observations with ink, not 

 with a black-lead pencil; and keep in mind that the more par- 

 ticulars you write at the time, the more you will afterwards 

 recollect. Work not at night, but anticipate the morning 

 dawn, and never think for an instant about the difficulties of 

 ransacking the woods, the shores, or the barren-grounds, nor 

 be vexed when you have traversed a few hundred miles of 

 country without finding a single new species. It may, indeed 

 it not unfrequently does happen, that after days or even weeks 

 of fruitless search, one enters a grove, or comes upon a pond, 

 or forces his way through the tall grass of a prairie, and sud- 

 denly meets with several objects, all new, all beautiful, and 

 perhaps all suited to the palate. Then, how delightful will 

 be your feelings, and how marvellously all fatigue will va- 

 nish ! Think, for instance, that you are on one of the de- 

 clivities of the Rocky Mountains, with shaggy and abrupt banks 

 on each side of you, while the naked cliffs tower high over 

 head, as if with the wish to reach the sky. Your trusty gun 

 has brought to the ground a most splendid " American phea- 

 sant," weighing fully two pounds ! What a treat ! You have 

 been surprised at the length of its tail, you have taken the 

 precise measurement of all its parts, and given a brief descrip- 

 tion of it. Have you read this twice, corrected errors, and 

 supplied deficiencies ? " Yes," you say. Very well ; now you 

 have begun your drawing of this precious bird ! Ah ! you 

 have finished it. Now, then, you skin the beautiful creature, 

 and are pleased to find it plump and fat. You have, I find, 

 studied comparative anatomy under my friend Macgillivray, 



