themselves. "One or two specimens, a clutch or two for my own collection will make no difference," the collector argues, or, worse still: "The species is so near extinction that it is too late to save it." How can sense be driven into selfish heads?
Let ornithologists be fair; let them not wrestle with the mote while the beam blinds them. The sportsman will often listen sympathetically to argument, even sacrificing a few head of game for the sake of other species; but the collector, seldom a true naturalist, professes and does not act, a hypocrite at heart who wants the birds protected so that he may possess them, filling his miserly cabinets. Natural history specimens are of value in educational museums and in the hands of private scientific workers, but too easily does the collector persuade himself that he is making use of his collection. Most honest accumulators of specimens for genuine scientific work either give their collections after the special task is ended or leave them to some scientific institution for the benefit of those who will follow after. The true scientist is never selfish; his aim is to gain and spread knowledge. The collector for collecting's sake is a boarder, a miser, anxious to possess what others have not got; he will even boast that he possesses the "last" of any species.
Those of us who have more sympathy with the hunted than the hunter should not be blind to the fact that many sportsmen are more generous-minded than the pretended scientific collector. The aim of the scientist, as well as the man who is merely interested in the preservation of animals and plants for humanitarian or other reasons, should be to enlist the sympathies of land-owners and sportsmen rather than make enemies by calling them hard names. The preserver of game and the land-owner have opportunities of helping science; when he realises that there is interest in his vermin he often adds them to the
