Appendix No. 1. 
xxvn 
has cost a sum of money considerably exceeding a quarter of a million 
pounds sterling, and it will be generally admitted that this amount has 
been well, if not wisely, spent in the public cause. There are no doubt 
many who have suffered by their own cupidity, or by that of former 
manor lords, who still feel aggrieved at the action of the Corporation, 
and it must indeed be conceded that many whose estates have suffered 
curtailment have been the unconscious receivers of illegally acquired 
property, and are thus deserving of commiseration. The principles 
involved in the conflict between public rights on the one hand and 
manorial actions on the other are of the very deepest importance to the 
community at large, and it is therefore no matter of surprise that the 
“Forest Question” should have acquired a quasi-political aspect during 
the last few years in this neighbourhood. 
As far as I have been able to learn, the motives leading to the preserva¬ 
tion of our Forest at the great cost specified appear to have been purely 
philanthropic. The main object was to secure this splendid area for the 
“ recreation and enjoyment ” of Londoners generally, and more espe¬ 
cially for the East-end inhabitants, whose chances of holiday-making are 
only too often limited to an occasional day in the country. In one sense 
the latter class may now, thanks to the movement first set in action by 
Mr. J. T. Bedford, claim to have a decided advantage over them wealthier 
West-end brethren, for the total area of the West-end parks (including 
Regent’s) amounts only to about 1150 acres, as compared with the 5000 
to 6000 acres of open country so easily accessible to East-Londoners. In 
the face of such an obviously enormous gain to the country rambling 
holiday-folk, it may perhaps seem ill-advised to attempt to criticise the 
action of the Conservators in them dealings with the Forest. It is with 
great reluctance on my part that I forsake the peaceful paths of scientific 
study to take up a question which generally appears to lead to nothing 
more than a manifestation of angry controversy, and I only do so now on 
behalf of that numerous and ever-increasing scientific class of holiday¬ 
makers whose claims thus far appear to have been altogether put out of 
court. 
Long before the question of encroachment or of preservation had been 
brought into its present prominence, botanists, entomologists, micro- 
scopists, and students of Nature generally were in the habit of frequenting 
our Forest, and of rambling in quest of the objects of their study through 
this woodland expanse so conveniently situated with respect to the great 
scientific centre of this country. There are records which prove that 
Epping Forest has been for more than a century the hunting-ground of 
many who have gathered materials from its glades for the great store¬ 
house of human knowledge, and who have taken a true and purely 
intellectual delight in studying its animal and vegetable productions. 
The London naturalists of the present time should surely have something 
to say in connection with the fate of the favourite haunt made classic 
ground to them by the memories of such men as Richard Warner, the 
author of the ‘ Plantae Woodfordienses ’ (1771), Edward Forster, the 
Essex botanist, who wrote between the years 1784 and 1840, and Henry 
Doubleday, of Epping, our own grocer-naturalist, who died in 1877. It 
is time for the natural-history public, by no means such an insignificant 
body as is generally supposed, to raise their voice on behalf of these 
“ happy hunting-grounds.” The position to be taken up is not neces¬ 
sarily one of antagonism towards the Conservators, but it is certainly 
desirable that some understanding should be come to respecting the 
claims of those who, in pursuit of knowledge, have long been contented 
to bear with the pitying smile of the ignorant for “trilling away their 
time upon weeds, insects, and toadstools.” The numerous scientific 
