which the poet lavished the wealth of his verse, Thus nature took him into her confidence. She loves the men of science well, and tells them all her family secrets-who is the father of this or that member of the group, who is brother, sister, cousin, and so on, through all the circle of rela- tionship. And there are others to whom she tells her dreams, not what species or genus her lily belongs to, but what vague thought it has when it dresses in white, or what memory of its birthplace that is which we call its fragrance."
I have felt reluctant and even almost ready to apologise for attempting to vindicate the high calling of men of science, and defend them against a widespread feeling as to the degrading pursuit of searching into the mysteries of the material world. I should not have ventured to do so did I not see our tables covered with magazines and high-class literature, as it is called, in which some of the greatest men in our country-men of European reputation, men whose names will be handed down to posterity as the pioneers of knowledge, men of the same stamp as our own immortal Harvey-are not only held up to contempt, but their teachings described as
