3S 
NATURES APPEAL. 
to their favourite pursuit quite uninfluenced by any reasoning or 
any question of advantage to themselves or others. They are 
drawn to it by some strong inward tendency. Nature appeals to 
them, and they are almost bound to obey the summons. They 
hear the siren's voice, and follow her. They cannot explain the 
pleasure they feel in Nature because it is instinctive. It is this 
large class which I refer to to-night ; and I beg to offer a few 
remarks for your indulgent consideration as to the meaning of 
this strong impulse which impels many people to the study of 
Natural History. 
We may investigate the subject in various ways, such as the 
following : — 
(1) We may argue from our own experience and analyse our 
own feelings. 
(2) We may read the lives of great naturalists, and try to find 
why they took to the study of Natural History. 
(3) We may attempt to ascertain in what kind of character or 
mental endowment this innate love of Nature is most 
developed. 
(4) We can endeavour to trace its beginnings in young children. 
(5) We can study questions which bear upon the subject in 
savage uncivilized nations as representative of primitive 
man. This will mean, chiefly, the attitude of primitive 
man to the phenomena of Nature. 
(6) If this is a question of instinct, or of the survival of several 
primitive instincts, as I believe it to be, we may gain 
some light by looking at it from the point of view of 
development. 
Now, (1) can we gain any light on the subject from our own 
experience or that of our friends ? 
This cannot help us much. People can rarely describe their 
instincts. Personally, I feel convinced that the impulse I refer to 
was so strongly developed in me when a boy that it would be 
absurd to call it other than instinctive. It never took the course 
that leads a man to become a naturalist, but the initial impulse 
which I believe to be the origin of the naturalist's life was there. 
The very thought of wild animals — especially certain kinds of 
wild animals ; the longing for unknown, uninhabited, savage 
lands; the wish for some weapon such as a gun, or bow and arrow, 
or even a catapult, wherewith I could try to kill something was 
certainly as strong as any ordinary kind of religious fervour. 
The sarcastic remark, "It is a fine morning, let us go out to 
kill something," would not then have sounded sarcastic to me. 
When I ask my friends now about these early feelings they seem 
reticent, or don't quite understand what I mean. If I press the point, 
they are rude, and suggest a brain specialist ; so I can get little 
out of them. I shall incidentally refer to this again, perhaps ; 
but will now go on to No. 2, viz. : — What have the lives of great 
naturalists to teach us on the subject? 
