its prey,
fleeing from its enemy, chasing its mate (the fiercest of our passions
blazing in an invisible speck); to see it whirling in a mad dance, to
the sound of its own music, the music of its happiness, the exquisite
happiness of living--can any one, who has once enjoyed this sight, ever
turn from it to mere books and drawings, without the sense that he has
left all Fairyland behind him?"[49]

The study of Natural History has indeed the special advantage of
carrying us into the country and the open air.

Lakes are even more restful than rivers or the sea. Rivers are always
flowing, though it may be but slowly; the sea may rest awhile, now and
then, but is generally full of action and energy; while lakes seem to
sleep and dream. Lakes in a beautiful country are like silver ornaments
on a lovely dress, like liquid gems in a beautiful setting, or bright
eyes in a lovely face. Indeed as we gaze down on a lake from some hill
or cliff it almost looks solid, like some great blue crystal.

[Illustration: WINDERMERE. _To face page 254._]

It is not merely for purposes of commerce or convenience that men love
to live near rivers.

Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink
Of Trent or Avon have my dwelling-place;
Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink,
With eager bite of pike, or bleak, or dace;
And on the world and my Creator think:
While some men strive ill-gotten goods t' embrace:
And others spend their time in base excess
Of wine; or worse, in war, or wantonness.

Let them that will, these pastimes still pursue,
And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill:
So I the fields and meadows green may view
And daily by fresh rivers walk at will,
Among the daisies and the violets blue,
Red hyacinth and yellow daffodil.[50]

It is interesting and delightful to trace a river from its source to the
sea.

"Beginning at the hill-tops," says Geikie, "we first meet with the
spring or 'well-eye,' from which the river takes its rise. A patch of
bright green, mottling the brown heathy slope, shows where the water
comes to the surface, a treacherous covering of verdure often concealing
a deep pool beneath. From this source the rivulet trickles along the
grass and heath, which it soon cuts through, reaching the black, peaty
layer below, and running in it for a short way as in a gutter.
Excavating its channel in the peat, it comes down to the soil, often a