employment and wealth to thousands and tens of thousands, wasting for want of being known and worked—then you would see what a man who emigrates may do, by a little sound knowledge of botany alone.

And if not.  Suppose that any one of you, learning a little sound Natural History, should abide here in Britain to your life’s end, and observe nothing but the hedgerow plants, he would find that there is much more to be seen in those mere hedgerow plants than he fancies now.  The microscope will reveal to him in the tissues of any wood, of any seed, wonders which will first amuse him, then puzzle him, and at last (I hope) awe him, as he perceives that smallness of size interferes in no way with perfection of development, and that “Nature,” as has been well said, “is greatest in that which is least.”  And more.  Suppose that he went further still.  Suppose that he extended his researches somewhat to those minuter vegetable forms, the mosses, fungi, lichens; suppose that he went a little further still, and tried what the microscope would show him in any stagnant pool, whether fresh water or salt, of Desmidiæ, Diatoms, and all those wondrous atomies which seem as yet to defy our classification into plants or animals.  Suppose he learnt something of this, but nothing of aught else.  Would he have gained no solid wisdom?  He would be a stupider man than I have a right to believe any of my readers to be, if he had not gained thereby somewhat of the most valuable of treasures—namely, that inductive habit of mind, that power of judging fairly of facts, without which no good or lasting work will be done, whether in physical science, in social science, in politics, in philosophy, in philology, or in history.

But more: let me urge you to study Natural Science, on grounds which may be to you new and unexpected—on social, I had almost said on political, grounds.

We all know, and I trust we all love, the names of Liberty, Equality, and Brotherhood.  We feel, I trust, that these words are too beautiful not to represent true and just ideas; and that therefore they will come true, and be fulfilled, somewhen, somewhere, somehow.  It may be in a shape very different from that which you, or I, or any man expects; but still they will be fulfilled.

But if they are to come true, it is we, the individual men, who must help them to come true for the whole world, by practising them ourselves, when and where we can.  And I tell you—that in becoming scientific men, in studying science and acquiring the scientific habit of mind, you will find yourselves enjoying a freedom, an equality, a brotherhood, such as you will not find elsewhere just now.

Freedom: what do we want freedom for?  For this, at least; that we may be each and all able to think what we choose; and to say what we choose also, provided we do not say it rudely or violently, so as to provoke a breach of the peace.  That last was Mr. Buckle’s definition of freedom of speech.  That was the only limit to it which he would allow; and I think that that is Mr. John Stuart Mill’s limit also.  It is mine.  And I think we have that kind of freedom in these islands as perfectly as any men are likely to have it on this earth.

But what I complain of is, that when men have got the freedom, three out of four of them will not use it.  What?—someone will answer—Do you suppose that I will not say what I choose, and that I dare not speak my own mind to any man?  Doubtless.  But are you sure first, that you think what you choose, or only what someone else chooses for you?  Are you sure that you make up your own mind before you speak, or let someone else make it up for you?  Your speech may be free enough, my good friend; and Heaven forbid that it should be anything else: but are your thoughts free likewise?  Are you sure that, though you may hate bigotry in others, you are not somewhat of a bigot yourself?  That you do not look at only one side of a question, and that the one which pleases you?  That you do not take up your opinions at second hand, from some book or some newspaper, which after all only reflects your own feelings, your own opinions?  You should ask yourselves that question, seriously and often: “Are my thoughts really free?”  No one values more highly than I do the advantage of a free press.  But you must remember always that a newspaper editor, however honest or able, is no more infallible than the Pope; that he may, just as you may, only see one side of a question, while any question is sure to have two sides, or perhaps three or four; and if you only see the side which suits you, day after day, month after month, you must needs become bigoted to it.  Your thoughts must needs run in one groove.  They cannot (as Mr. Matthew Arnold would say) “play freely round” a question; and look it all over, boldly, patiently, rationally, charitably.

And I tell you that if you, or I, or any man, want to let our thoughts play freely round questions, and so escape from the tendency to become bigoted and narrow-minded which there is in every human being, then we must acquire something of that inductive habit of mind which the study of Natural Science gives.  It is, after all, as Professor Huxley says, only common sense well regulated.  But then it is well regulated; and how precious it is, if you can but get it.  The art of seeing, the art of knowing what you see; the art of comparing, of perceiving true likenesses and true differences, and so of classifying and arranging what you see: the art of connecting facts together in your own mind in chains of cause and effect, and that accurately, patiently, calmly, without prejudice, vanity, or temper—this is what is wanted for true freedom of mind.  But accuracy, patience, freedom from prejudice, carelessness for all except the truth, whatever the truth may be—are not these the virtues of a truly free spirit?  Then, as I said just now, I know no study so able to give that free habit of mind as the Study of Natural Science.

Equality, too: whatever equality may or may not be just, or possible; this at least, is just, and I hope possible; that every man, every child, of every rank, should have an equal chance of education; an equal chance of developing all that is in him by nature; an equal chance of acquiring a fair knowledge of those facts of the universe which specially concern him; and of having his reason trained to judge of them.  I say, whatever equal rights men may or may not have, they have this right.  Let every boy, every girl, have an equal and sound education.  If I had my way, I would give the same education to the child of the collier and to the child of a peer.  I would see that they were taught the same things, and by the same method.  Let them all begin alike, say I.  They will be handicapped heavily enough as they go on in life, without our handicapping them in their first race.  Whatever stable they come out of, whatever promise they show, let them all train alike, and start fair, and let the best colt win.

Well: but there is a branch of education in which, even now, the poor man can compete fairly against the rich; and that is, Natural Science.  In the first place, the rich, blind to their own interest, have neglected it hitherto in their schools; so that they have not the start of the poor man on that subject which they have on many.  In the next place, Natural Science is a subject which a man cannot learn by paying for teachers.  He must teach it himself, by patient observation, by patient common sense.  And if the poor man is not the rich man’s equal in those qualities, it must be his own fault, not his purse’s.  Many shops have I seen about the world, in which fools could buy articles more or less helpful to them; but never saw I yet an observation-shop, nor a common-sense shop either.  And if any man says, “We must buy books:” I answer, a poor man now can obtain better scientific books than a duke or a prince could sixty years ago, simply because then the books did not exist.  When I was a boy I would