104 NATURE NOTES 
Still memory is much, and reflection has a special beauty of its 
own . 
Indeed, how any one with eyes in his head can ever be dull is 
a mystery. The Emperor Akbar well said that “ Broad indeed 
is the carpet which God has spread, and beautiful the colours 
which He has given it.” 
Moreover, the parts of Nature which are most beautiful are 
just those in which she has been left to herself, which man has 
neither arranged nor deranged. My old friend, W. R. Greg, 
wrote one of his charming essays “ On the Special Beauty of 
Ruin and Decay.” It is not, however, the ruin or decay in 
themselves; it is that the touch of Nature embellishes and 
glorifies even the most noble productions of man. 
We of the Selborne Society pre-eminently recognise how 
intensely the reverent study of Nature has added, and will add, 
to the happiness of life. We are devoted to the country — to our 
country of course, but especially to the country. 
It appeals not only to our senses, but to our reason. One of 
the main charms of Nature is the great mystery of existence. 
Matter, it now seems, is not material after all, but movement. 
All is little, says Joubert, and nothing is much. “ La Matiere 
est un apparence, tout est peu, et rien est beaucGup.” 
And yet every stone is a problem, or rather a series of 
problems. Every flower is a marvel, every animal a miracle, 
and man himself the greatest of all : we know little about the 
body, still less about the mind ; and least of all what is the 
relation of the body to the mind; and yet they make you and me. 
“ L’homme,” says Pascal, “ est a lui meme le plus prodigieux 
object de la nature ; car il ne peut concevoir ce que c’est que 
corps, et encore moins ce que c’est qu’ esprit; et moins qu’aucune 
chose comment un corps peut etre uni avec un esprit ; c'est la le 
comble de ses difficultes, et cependant c’est son propre etre.” 
In this world of storm and stress, of wars, and rumours of 
wars, of Parliamentary elections and political excitement, the 
study of Nature brings peace to the heart. Thomas a Kempis 
tells us that he had sought everywhere for peace, but found it 
not, save in a little nook [ his cell) and a little book. He did not, 
however, try the study of Nature. 
“ Nature,” said Goethe, “ has placed me in this world, she will 
also lead me out of it. I trust myself to her. She may do with 
me as she pleases. She will not hate her work. I did not speak 
of her. No ! what is true and what is false, she has spoken it 
all. Everything is her fault, everything is her merit.”* 
Books afford us practically inexhaustible treasures of interest, 
which no doubt take some finding, but the splendid secrets of 
Nature, as Shelley tells us, she will not tell to those who can- 
not question well — still less to those who do not love her well. 
We do. 
* Goethe, “ Maxims,” p. 213. 
