habit of free work has been well formed. The student who can afford
the help of a master, or, better, the assistance of many, such as some
of our universities offer, should by all means avail himself of this
resource. More than any other science, geology, because of the
complexity of the considerations with which it has to deal, depends
upon methods of labour which are to a great extent traditional, and
which can not, indeed, be well transmitted except in the personal way.
In the distinctly limited sciences, such as mathematics, physics, or
even those which deal with organic bodies, the methods of work can be
so far set forth in printed directions that the student may to a great
extent acquire sound ways of work without the help of a teacher.

Although there is a vast and important literature concerning geology,
the greater part of it is of a very special nature, and will convey to
the beginner no substantial information whatever. It is not until he
has become familiar with the field with which he is enabled to deal in
the actual way that he can transfer experience thus acquired to other
grounds. Therefore beyond the pleasing views which he may obtain by
reading certain general works on the science, the student should at
the outset of his inquiry limit his work as far as possible to his
field of practice, using a good text-book, such as Dana's Manual of
Geology, as a source of suggestions as to the problems which his field
may afford.

The main aim of the student in this, as in other branches of inquiry,
is to gain practice in following out the natural series of actions. To
the primitive man the phenomenal world presents itself as a mere
phantasmagoria, a vast show in which the things seen are only related
to each other by the fact that they come at once into view. The end of
science is to divine the order of this host, and the ways in which it
is marshalled in its onward movement and the ends to which its march
appears to be directed. So far as the student observes well, and thus
gains a clear notion of separated facts, he is in a fair way to
gather the data of knowledge which may be useful; but the real value
of these discernments is not gained until the observations go
together, so as to make something with a perspective. Until the store
of separate facts is thus arranged, it is merely crude material for
thought; it is not in the true meaning science, any more than a store
of stone and mortar is architecture. When t