of the “face of the earth.” I believe
that all will one day feel, more or less, that to
know the earth
on which we live, and the laws
of it
by which we live, is a sacred duty to ourselves,
to our children after us, and to all whom we may have
to command and to influence; ay, and a duty to God
likewise. For is it not a duty of common reverence
and faith towards Him, if He has put us into a beautiful
and wonderful place, and given us faculties by which
we can see, and enjoy, and use that place—is
it not a duty of reverence and faith towards Him to
use these faculties, and to learn the lessons which
He has laid open for us? If you feel that, as
I think you all will some day feel, then you will
surely feel likewise that it will be a good deed—I
do not say a necessary duty, but still a good deed
and praiseworthy—to help physical science
forward; and to add your contributions, however small,
to our general knowledge of the earth. And how
much may be done for science by British officers, especially
on foreign stations, I need not point out. I
know that much has been done, chivalrously and well,
by officers; and that men of science owe them and
give them hearty thanks for their labours. But
I should like, I confess, to see more done still.
I should like to see every foreign station what one
or two highly-educated officers might easily make
it, an advanced post of physical science, in regular
communication with our scientific societies at home,
sending to them accurate and methodic details of the
natural history of each district—details
ninety-nine hundredths of which might seem worthless
in the eyes of the public, but which would all be precious
in the eyes of scientific men, who know that no fact
is really unimportant; and more, that while plodding
patiently through seemingly unimportant facts, you
may stumble on one of infinite importance, both scientific
and practical. For the student of nature, gentlemen,
if he will be but patient, diligent, methodical, is
liable at any moment to the same good fortune as befell
Saul of old, when he went out to seek his father’s
asses, and found a kingdom.
There are those, lastly, who have neither time nor
taste for the technicalities and nice distinctions
of formal Natural History; who enjoy Nature, but as
artists or as sportsmen, and not as men of science.
Let them follow their bent freely: but let them
not suppose that in following it they can do nothing
towards enlarging our knowledge of Nature, especially
when on foreign stations. So far from it, drawings
ought always to be valuable, whether of plants, animals,
or scenery, provided only they are accurate; and the
more spirited and full of genius they are, the more
accurate they are certain to be; for Nature being
alive, a lifeless copy of her is necessarily an untrue
copy. Most thankful to any officer for a mere
sight of sketches will be the closest botanist, who,
to his own sorrow, knows three-fourths of his plants